best i can do left handed

Eurovision 2K17: Graham Norton's Best Bits

“It’s a grey, damp night outside so there’s a faint smell of wet dog in the arena.”

“So, the theme this year is celebrating diversity, so let’s see who they’ve got to host… Oh, it’s three white men. Well done.”

“I can’t mock the jacket because… I’ve worn worse.”

“Timur is a personality powerhouse.”

“They’re excellent at speaking at the same time, they’ve cracked that.”

“Her brother will be fiddling with her on stage tonight.”

“Nathan Trent is actually his stage name. His real name is… Very difficult.”

“If you think my job’s hard, check out the guy pretending to play the saxophone for three minutes.”

“I should tell you, the Union Jack just fell off the wall in the commentary room. Hope it’s not an omen.”

“Nothing’s gone wrong. This was planned.”

“By the way, don’t worry, he hasn’t bought his mother’s ashes onstage with him. It’s actually a mini milk churn, which- who knew- could double as a musical instrument. Well, I say musical.”

“By the way, there hasn’t been a stage invasion. The woman is a professionally trained dancer. She is meant to be there.”

“The dancer trying to hide there. Who can blame her?”

“Inside that gorilla is Italy’s leading choreographer.”

“If you’re going to dress someone as a gorilla, at least get a decent costume. It looks like two carseat covers sewn together.”

“She was born and raised there (Australia). Moved to Denmark… Suspiciously recently.”

“There is so much love in this room.”
“Not for you, Alex.”

“Stop.”

“And you keep thinking, ‘oh, this will make sense in a moment’ and… No…”

“She very kindly gave us some promotional chalk. I’ll be taking that home.”

“Ironically, for a man singing a song called ‘My Friend’, he doesn’t seem to have any.”

“Song 14 is Australia. Let’s not get into it.”

“My only piece of advice would be don’t start looking at his eyebrows unless you don’t want to stop”

“Does he advertise car insurance?”

“It’s got lots of things euro fans will enjoy: a beautiful woman, a stonking disco beat, and two half-naked men splashing around in a paddling pool.”

“Ooo. Some dodgy notes in there. I wonder if something’s gone wrong technically… Or maybe he’s just not great.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be singing but he stepped into the breach when the original singer… Came to his senses.”

“Comedy alert, ladies and gentleman.”

“Now… If I say this song is rap meets yodelling…”

“She claims to be the only yodeller in Romania. Probably because the others don’t talk about it. It’s the first rule of Yodel Club.”

“She splits her time between Berlin and London, so if you think you know her, you’ve probably seen her waiting for a bus or something.”

“Eurovision fans know it’s a long wait for the competition.” “A year. It’s a year, Timur.”

“The next thing you’ll ask is… How can three minutes be this long?”

“I just hope she enjoys it (performing) a bit more than she appears to.”

“This boy is a boy.”

“He’s literally just turned 17. He was born in this century.”

“We’ve done it, ladies and gentleman. This is song 26.”

“Terrific graphics, though. Mind you, if we’re looking at the graphics, something’s gone terribly wrong, hasn’t it.”

“Verka and her mother. I think it’s the same mother she had in 2008, we can’t be sure.”

“She (Verka) has already started drinking tonight.”
“Oh, I can believe that.”

“If zombies did aerobics, it’d look a bit like this.”

“Two hundred million people… Are watching this.”

“This is quite torturous. A very long minute.”

*gasp* “I smell charisma.”

“I shared a urinal with John Ola Sand earlier. I didn’t talk to him…. Thought best not to.”

“Look at us, on the left hand side of the scoreboard.”

“Do you think she gave the other half of her jacket to the man from Croatia?”

“This is like an international version of First Dates.”

“They’re like the muppets with accents.”

sentence prompts
  1. “What if I say no?”
  2. “Get out.”
  3. “I dreamed of you last night.”
  4. “I don’t know if you noticed… but we’re in a party”
  5. “You can dance with me… if you want!”
  6. “DON’T LOOK!!”
  7. “I think people hug at this point.”
  8. “I’ll take you.”
  9. “Why didn’t you call me?”
  10. “Would you stop that?!”
  11. “I loved you.”
  12. “Yeah I was there.”
  13. “Don’t say that.”
  14. “I’ll take the couch.”
  15. “You lied to me.”
  16. “Maybe you didn’t love me after all.”
  17. “Take my hand.”
  18. “SO… you think I’m hot?”
  19. “What are you doing?””Hiding.”
  20. “Let’s run. Together.”
  21. “Wow! you’re good at this!”
  22. “I think we should stop seeing each other.”
  23. “You have a picture of me? On your fridge?” 
  24. “Do I know you?”
  25. “I thought we could go back to whatever the hell we were!”
  26. “Did I just say that?”
  27. “Breathe, okay? Just breathe.”
  28. “Stand behind me.”
  29. “But I don’t want to leave.”
  30. “Tell me a secret.”
  31. “DON’T PRetend with me!!”
  32. “I saw you, right there.”
  33. “I-I just wanted to say that I uh, I missed you.”
  34. “I’m not lying.”
  35. “You look… okay. I MEAN-”
  36. “I knew I’d find you here.”
  37. “You still remember?”
  38. “I guess I just wanted to know if you missed me.”
  39. “All I needed was my friend.”
  40. “I like your new place.”
  41. “You left!”
  42. “Do you know any jokes?”
  43. “Are you hungry?”
  44. “I’m not supposed to be here.”
  45. “Do I even wanna know?!”
  46. “Take me home… please?”
  47. “Hey just be cool.”
  48. “You have pretty hands.”
  49. “I’m sorry.”
  50. “Sorry I woke you up.”
  51. “It’s about to rain, get inside.”
  52. “So… friends?”
  53. “I’m his/her best friend.”
  54. “I got you, it’s okay. It’s okay.”
  55. “We can leave, you know?”
  56. “Did I interrupt something?”
  57. “I’m trying, okay?”
  58. “OH MY GOD YOUR EYES!!!”
  59. “Why didn’t you ask me instead?”
  60. “Sing to me.”
  61. “What’s my prize?”
  62. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”
  63. “You’re so cute!!!”
  64. “I was trying to protect you.”
  65. “I’ll kill you.”
  66. “And then you laughed.”
  67. “I didn’t know where to go to.”
  68. “I was having a nightmare.” 
  69. “I know this song.”
  70. “I need someone to hear me.”

“Who wants donutsssssss?” came a voice from the doorway.

In walked Chris, dressed in a dirty sweatshirt and a soaking wet red bandana. 

“Sorry I was late.  I biked here.  Trying to save the environment and stuff.”

Chris took a seat at the table and plopped down the donuts on top of the stack of spreadsheets.  Everyone at the table jumped at them.

“Um, Chris,” I motioned, “Our team is presenting now.  Do you have the graphs you were supposed to make?" 

I knew the answer before he even opened his mouth.  “No, sorry, I was getting the donuts.  And I biked here.  I’m trying to save the environment and stuff.”

I rolled my eyes.  Hank, the other man in our trio, went in for a donut. 

I tried to continue from where I left off.  “…and if you look at this chart you can see our eastern sector sales have fallen 12 percent…”

Chris raised his hand.  “Yes, Chris, what is it?”

"Is this going to take long?  I wanted to go try to see if I could break the vending machine in the break room.”

“What?!  Why would you even want to do that?”

“It’s a measure of strength.  Only a true man can break a vending machine.”

I tried to ignore him.  Everyone else in the room thought Chris was the best.  I could see it in their stupid donut-eating smiles.  Hank and I finished our presentation and then we all filed out of the boardroom.

I caught our boss, Mr. O’Leary, and asked if I could have a word.

“Sure, Charlie, what is it?”

“It’s about Chris.  He really didn’t pull his weight on this project, and sir, he never does.  I always have to pick up his slack.”

“What are you trying to say, Charlie?"  O’Leary glared.

I knew if any action would be taken I would have to be brutally honest.  “Sir, I don’t think he should be working here.”

"Sorry, son, but I like Chris,” said O’Leary assuredly. “Plus, he’s trying to save the environment and stuff.  Also, I want to see if he can break that vending machine.”

Just Friends

Requests: (1) Could you do a Draco imagine that consists of Cedric Diggory, Draco getting jealous, feels, conflict, and a load of jealousy?;

(2) Could you do an imagine where Draco and the reader are best friends and lowkey in love with each other but refuse to admit it, and progressively Draco starts making, erm, suggestive, comments to the reader and there’s just lots of sexual tension and eventually they get together?

⇢  A Draco x Reader work featuring a very jealous and steamy Draco.


Draco took a sip from his goblet, peering over the rim as you walked into The Great Hall with a handsome Hufflepuff by your side. Not that it bothered him, of course. In fact, Draco would say he hardly even noticed.

“You alright, mate?”

“Just fine. Why do you ask?”

Zabini shrugged. “Your nose has been inside your goblet for some time now. Trying to drown yourself, Malfoy?”

“Of course not.” Draco lowered the goblet from his face, never once taking his eyes off you. You were still talking to that boy.

Blaise followed Draco’s gaze and smirked. “Tell me, Draco, where’s that best friend of yours? She usually would have dropped by for her daily chat by now.” He watched as Draco’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. “Oh– I see her. She’s preoccupied by that Hufflepuff. Diggory, is it?”

“I don’t know. And I couldn’t care less, really.”

“Didn’t you two agree to attend the Yule Ball together?” A look of mock realization dawned on Zabini’s face. “Oh, that’s right. You two agreed to go only as friends. And now she’s chatting up the Triwizard Champion while you’re here dateless.”

“Appears so.” Draco remained impassive. “But at least I have an excuse for not bringing a date. Can you say the same?”

Zabini sobered as he took in Draco’s expressionless tone. Zabini may have been a tosser, but he knew when to stop. “You really like her, don’t you?”

Draco heaved a sigh, rubbing his temple and finally turning to face Blaise. “Is it obvious?”

“Only to someone with a brain.” Blaise paused. “Which explains why Y/N hasn’t caught on yet.”

Keep reading

Bill shows the reader how pleasure can be punishment.

Warning: SMUT.

This is my first piece of writing and I hope you enjoy. Although I am using Bill Skarsgård; this does not represent him personally. Only his looks are being used, the rest is just from my imagination. 

Enjoy! 


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A Lesson in Love (Emergency)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,048

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - thank you, as always, for editing this for me.

Originally posted by charlestonchewbacca

The thought of what it must feel like to be an astronaut has crossed your mind on countless occasions, thanks to the astronomy class you’re currently taking. How does it feel to be that detached from the place you call home? To see the earth floating in the never-ending expanse that is space? To know that there’s a whole world of people residing on that large green and blue planet, but having no way to reach out to them?

Unexpected circumstances have transformed you into the astronaut that you never thought you’d have the chance to be. The news that Bucky is in the hospital, his condition unknown, has acted like a spaceship, catapulting you out of the atmosphere. It’s left you hurdling through space, unable to reach out to anyone, no matter how hard you try. T’Challa and Sam are calling out to you, but you can’t hear them. They’re far away, too far away, waiting on earth while you continue your journey. One without any gravity to keep you from floating away.

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Dinner Party

Summary: After Bucky returns home from a mission all you want to do is stay in bed (naked) all day with him. But you two have to go to a friend’s birthday to make things fun he proposes a little game.

Paring: Bucky x Reader.

Words: 2575

Warnings:  There is a lot in fuffly in this, but also SMUT and loats of teasing.

This is a one-shot

Thank you to @drinkfantasy, for being my beta you are the best.

Originally posted by sebstanslaugh

You look at yourself in the mirror, felling happy about your appearance. You are wearing one of your favorites dresses, it is navy blue with a modest cleavage in the front and another masive one in the back.

You look cute for your friend’s birthday, your make up it’s done in a very simple away, just some mascara and lip gloss. You turn around and see Bucky who is lying on your bed almost sleeping. You sit by his side and he hides his face on your lap. You start playing with his hair, making him moan at your gentle actions.

“Are you sure you want to come along? You can stay here and sleep a little. I won’t hold against you if you don’t come with me.” You know that he is tired, Bucky came back home around 4 a.m. from a two weeks mission and he only slept a few hours.

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GROUPCHAT - Xmen x Reader

I decided to try something new. This is going to be trash! I’m sorry for it being on your dash. I didn’t actually plan this, I just kept going. You can request a group chat, and be sure to tell me who you want in the group chat. -Thai💖
___________________________________________

Jubes💖:
Hey guys! We should go to the mall.

Scotty😎:
Again?!? Jubilee no.

Jean:
This is the 6th time this week!

Y/N👑:
And this will be the 6th time getting kicked out…hmm I wonder why?

Warren:
It was an accident! Not my fault my wings are huge. But you know what else is huge, ladies 😉

Bamf💙:
My love for god?

Jubilee💖:
Kurt, never change.

Wanda🔮:
Leave it Warren or Peter to make it inappropriate

Speedy:
You shouldn’t even get that reference! You’re a baby!

Wanda🔮:
I’M YOU’RE YOUNGER TWIN SISTER! I AM NOT A BABY!

Jubilee💖:
Anymore, back on a more important topic. Mall?

Ro⛈:
How about we just stay in and watch a movie? I like watching American films!

Bamf💙:
Me too! They are very interesting!

Alex💥:
They are very boring, especially the romantic ones. They are so predictable!

Scotty😎:
I gotta agree with my bro. Romcoms are boring.

Speedy:
Now action movies on the other hand. Very fun to watch. There’s always a hot girl.

Scotty😎:
That’s true. May I add that the hot girls body is always amazing.

Jean:
So is that why you have so many action movies? To watch the hot girls, Scott?

Speedy:
Damn Scott. Now be careful with your answer.

Y/N👑:
Well there goes the movie idea…how about camping?

Ro⛈:
Camping sounds fun.

Jubes💖:
Gross! Bugs everywhere! You’re sleeping on the ground! Bad wifi! May I add NO BATHROOMS!

Wanda🔮:
I agree with Jubilee. Camping is a no.

Bamf💙:
I have never been camping before. Y/N we can go camping 😄

Jubes💖:
On second thought. I’ll go.

Alex💥:
Someone’s jealous

Warren:
👀

Speedy:
👀

Wanda🔮:
👀

Y/N👑:
👀

Ro⛈:
Question is of tho☕️👌🏼

Jubes💖:
I hate all of you.

Jean:
Minus one of us buts that none of my business

Speedy:
Ooo burn! Get it..because she’s all hot and firey and stuff?

Scotty😎:
Did you just call my girlfriend hot😡

Speedy:
At least I didn’t say she has an amazing body☕️👌🏼 She totally does though. Jean, you got some nice legs.

Jubes💖:
GROSS! PETER!

Warren:
He’s not wrong.

Y/N👑:
He is not.

Alex💥:
Not at all. If you think of it. All the females on the team have amazing bodies.

Wanda🔮:
Not I, but all my team mates look amazing.

Warren:
You have a nice ass🍑

Speedy:
What you say bird boy?

Warren:
What? She has an amazing ass. All the girls do.

Warren had been removed by Speedy.

Speedy has left the chat.

Wanda🔮:
I got to go save a team mate.

Wanda🔮 had left the chat.

Alex💥:
He’s not wrong about Wanda’s ass but Y/N’s has the best ass. Hands down.

Ro⛈:
Why do you look upon our asses?

Alex💥:
No one here can say they haven’t looked at Y/N ass. Maybe Kurt but I highly doubt it.

Jubes💖:
As much as I hate the fact we jumped off topic and is now talking about asses, Alex has a solid point.

Scotty😎:
Y/N, I’m not admitting that I look at your ass but you have a nice ass.

Y/N👑:
Thank you butterscott, you have…nice lips and hair.

Jean:
I just want to state the fact that I can read thoughts. @Scott

Jean has left the chat

Scotty😎:
Jean!

Scotty😎 has left the chat

Ro⛈:
Poor kid. So movie or camping?
___________________________________________

And I’m going to end it right there. This was messy and sloppy but oh well.

Don’t get caught

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, oral

Word count: 936 

Summary: Tom, Y/N and Harrison are watching a movie. Harrison falls asleep and Tom gets bored. 

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first imagine I’ve written in a year so I’m a little rusty. Please feel free to send in requests or give feedback. Or if you just wanna chat, I’m always happy to. Hope you enjoy


The way his eyes were stuck on you, staring like you were the most beautiful thing in the entire world, but let’s face it, you are the most beautiful thing in his world. You were trying to keep your eyes fixed on the television screen in front of you, but his gaze was becoming quite the distraction. You, your boyfriend Tom and his best friend Harrison were sat watching a movie, as you do every Friday night, but this time it was your turn to choose the film, but neither boy was very happy with your decision.

“Tom, can you watch the movie please? I know you’re not particularly interested in what I’ve chosen but can you at least pretend that you’re somewhat enjoying it?” He gave a slight nod and turned his head to face the screen once more. His hand found its way to your thigh, but it fell lazily against your skin, so you let it be.

About five minutes pass, and Tom’s face nuzzles into your neck, his hot breath making small goosebumps rise across the small patch of exposed skin that wasn’t tucked under the fluffy blanket you had wrapped around you. “Y/N please”, he whispers. You don’t even look at him, but say “If Haz can watch the movie, then so can you.”

“But he’s asleep!” He whisper yells. You look over at Harrison, his body lay flat on the carpet with his face pressed into a cushion. Small breathy snores left his lips every few seconds. Okay, so he was asleep. “Well what do you want me to do about it? I can’t wake him up.” You question your boyfriend, he obviously was not willing to suffer through this movie without the support of his friend. Despite his pleas, you return your focus to the screen and try your best to ignore his hand wandering from your thigh up further to waistband of your pyjama pants.

You could tell from the short puffs of breath and small sighs coming from Tom that he was very frustrated, and just as a kissing scene came on the screen, he groaned, clearly annoyed that was not happening between the two of you at that very moment. Giving in, you grab the remote and pause the movie, and then turn the tv off. Tom takes this action as an indication for him to finally slip his hand down past the waistband of your pants and rest his hand firmly on your clothed heat, a faint spot of wetness seeping through, as the thought of what was going to happen crossed your mind. His lips attacked the bare skin on your neck, leaving a combination of open mouth kisses and short sucks on the skin. “T-Tom” you say, trying to get up from your position on the couch, to make your way to your room. “Where are you going baby?” he asks, keeping an arm around you so you can’t move. You nod your head towards your room but he shakes his head.

“I want to take you right here, darling.” You suck in a sharp breath, shocked. “But what about Haz?”

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Wolfstar First Date Headcanons:

 So it’s their first date after Remus, as a stuttering mess and completely red in the face, manages to ask Sirius out on a date. They’ve been dancing around each other for so long now and their friends are just about ready to pull their hairs out from so much sexual tension and flirting and oh my god we know you’re not together yet but please get a room!

 But they get there eventually. Eventually. It only took them six bloody years. They get to the first date. Okay. The first date. Nothing to panic about. They’ve known each other for so long and it’s just a first date. It’s not that big of a change. Nothing to worry about, right?

 Right?

  • Remus ends up getting flowers. He’s not really one for overtly large signs of affection but this is Sirius and overtly large signs of affection is practically his middle name. So he gets flowers; a dozen roses all arranged in a beautiful bouquet that probably costs way more than it should. And a candlelit dinner for two at a fancy restaurant. And tickets to that muggle movie that’s Sirius adores. It’s going to be perfect. It is. He’s planned every little detail.
  • Sirius, on the other hand, is panicking. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t even know what to wear. It’s their first date and he doesn’t know what to wear. Remus refuses to tell him where they’re even going and oh god, what if he’s horribly underdressed? What if he embarrasses Remus and it ends up in a horrible disaster and everything becomes awkward after that? Okay, no. He manages to calm himself down enough to fix his hair and look presentable. (Smart Casual’s a good idea. A button down shirt and some jeans. Definitely not robes. Remus seems partial to muggle establishments. And smart casual works anywhere. Not too formal and not too… casual). He decides to get flowers, a dozen roses in a perfect bouquet, because what kind of date would he be if he didn’t get flowers?
  • Remus turns up at 6 o’clock on the dot. Well, turns up is a strong word considering that they already live together, but he knocks at the door to Sirius’ room exactly on time. Sirius opens the door, hair slicked back with a black leather jacket, jeans that are much too tight (and definitely not the ones that makes Remus blush brighter than a tomato), and a nice-ish shirt. Remus has to fight to keep a straight face and not look like the lovesick idiot that he is. His heart is beating madly in his chest.
  • (What he doesn’t know is the solid two hours Sirius spent as an absolute whirlwind in his room, frantically trying on and subsequently throwing away articles of clothing. Sirius purposefully opened his door in the smallest way possible because his room looks as if a tornado ran through it and danced the salsa and hell if he even lets Remus see that)
  • ‘So what do you plan to do with me, Lupin,’ he asks. Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic, screams a voice in his head in a distinctly panicky voice.
  •  Remus almost forgets what he’s going to say for a moment because Sirius looks… well, he looks like Sirius Black, hottest man alive and he thought he was prepared for this but man, but he is most definitely very not prepared for this. ‘Uhmm,’ he says.
  • Sirius smiles because Remus is blushing and he’d always adored that particular shade of red he turns to. He resists the urge to kiss the tip of his nose and chase the blush away. On impulse, he takes Remus’ hand with his. It’s a first date, right? Hand holding is good for a first date, right? Hand holding he can do, at any rate.
  • Remus relaxes under Sirius’ touch. He can do this. He is doing this. This will be the best date of his life and it already is because this is Sirius and how can there be anyone better than him?
  •  ‘I’m going to give you the best time of your life,’ he says.

Bonus:

They’re well into dessert, hands entwined on the table while the other struggles with the spoon, when they realize what’s missing.

‘I got you flowers,’ they blurt out at the same time.

‘It’s in my room,’ Sirius tells Remus. ‘I was throwing around so much stuff that I’m afraid I buried it under my clothes or something.’

‘I think I left it on my dresser,’ Remus says. And they both laugh.

‘I’m sure they’re very lovely,’ Sirius says.

‘The best,’ Remus says. ‘They’re the best flowers you’re ever going to see.’

They haven’t let go of each other’s hands yet. Sirius smiles, and his eyes are shining.

True affection (Robb Stark x Female!Reader)

Prompt: Hi :) Can you do a Robb Stark x Reader please? Maybe we see the stages of their relationship as their meeting, their love, their betrothal, their marriage, the pregnancy of the reader, the birth of their child? It’s just an idea and I’m sorry if there are mistakes, I’m French :)

Note: @tiiffanym I really loved this request, so i hope i did it justice!

Robb Stark x reader

When your Parents told you that the carriage was nearing Winterfell, you felt sick. The closer you got to Winterfell, the closer you were to your life changing forever. It had been Ned Stark who had proposed the marriage, and your parents had been delighted. House Stark and House Y/L/N had been allies for centuries – It made sense to strengthen that tie.

You were less thrilled about the idea. You had only ever met Robb once, when you were young, and had no idea as to what kind of man he might be now. Your mother reassured you that Ned was an honourable man, and that his son would be to, but it was little help.

As you approached the gates of Winterfell, you couldn’t deny how beautiful it was; and as Robb Stark took your arm and helped you out of the carriage, you couldn’t deny that he was beautiful too.

When you were both on solid ground, Robb kneeled in front of you, and kissed your hand “Lady Y/n, you are as beautiful I remember.”

You blushed at the compliment, and hoped he was as kind a man as his words suggested.


You quickly got used to not only the North, but to the Stark family. Arya and Rickon were little wolves, constantly exploring the surrounding forests, returning caked in mud (much to Catelyn’s chagrin). Sansa had the voice of an angel, Bran was a genius with a bow, and Robb – well he was just perfect.

The two of you had connected quickly, and you complemented each other well. Where he was hot headed, you were cool, he was proud, and you were logical, and you both adored each other.

It had been a month since you had first arrived in the North, and you had spent most days with Robb, with him showing you around the castle or riding together around the surrounding grounds of the castle.

You were sat together in the Gods wood when he first told you that he was in love with you.

You looked up at him in slight shock before he continued “Y/N, I had always accepted that when I married it would be out of duty, to create an alliance but…” he paused for a moment “You are like no one I have ever met. I love you.”

You weren’t sure that you would ever be able to stop smiling. Your eyes met at you both leaned in to the kiss. When your lips met his you were certain that Winterfell was where you belonged. That he was where you belonged.

When you pulled away he let out a sigh at the lack of contact, so you moved to sit closer to him. Without having to think he wrapped his arm around your waist. You leaned it his touch.

“I love you too Robb.”


The day you married Robb was one of the best days of your life. You, like Robb, had never expected to be able to marry someone that you truly loved. You waited anxiously in the chapels door way. Arya was fidgeting, pulling at her dress trying to get comfortable.

You were shocked when Arya acquiesced to being one your bridesmaids, and you suspected that this would be the last time you ever saw her in a ball gown until her own wedding. Sansa looked like a Queen, in her bridesmaid dress. You were suddenly overwhelming proud of the two girls.

When you heard the Organ begin to play, your father took your arm and you began to walk down the aisle. The night before you had been so nervous that something would go wrong, that you would trip and fall or something would happen to your dress.

Those fears quickly exited your mind as soon as you saw Robb. His jaw dropped when he first saw you, and his eyes filled with tears. You looked stunning. The dress was simple, and fitted you perfectly, hugging your body in all of the right places.

Your house colours had been sewn intricately into the hem, and it was better then you could have ever hoped for. All of the great Northern houses were in attendance, but you barley even acknowledged them, with all of your attention on Robb.

Robb was grinning besides you as you both stood in front of the septon. Your soon to be husband slipped his hand into yours as you exchanged your vows. You squeezed his hand, as you promised to love him until the day that you died.

The cloak Robb wrapped around you was beautiful, it had the Stark crest embroidered onto a deep blue background, and the lining of the cloak was pure white wool. You wondered how many hours it had taken to craft something so beautiful.

“You many now kiss the bride” called out the septon, once Robb had wrapped the cloak around you.

Robb cupped your face gently with his hands and leaned down to kiss you, you flung your arms around his neck and pressed your body close to his.

When Robb pulled away from you, he looked like he was so full of love that he might burst. “I Love you so much Y/n Stark.” When he pulled you into another kiss, the room let out a cheer.


It had been four months since you last moons blood, and five months since you and Robb got married. Maester Luwin had confirmed your suspicions. You were pregnant.

You knew Robb would be happy, you were carrying the air to Winterfell inside of you, but you were still nervous to tell him. You said a quick prayer to both the Old Gods and the seven that he would be as pleased as you were.

Robb was out hunting when you found out that you were pregnant, he would be back early the next morning. You let out a groan. You were desperate to tell someone. When you saw Catelyn, you couldn’t contain yourself.

“Lady Stark, there is something I must tell you, Robb is not here and I have to tell someone.” You gushed, and Catelyn gave you a knowing smile.

“Y/n please, you must call me Catelyn” she insisted “What is It you must tell me?”

“I’m with child” you whispered excitedly, relieved to finally share the secret.

Your mother in law pulled you into a tight hug “I have had my suspicions, you have been absolutely glowing this past few weeks.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to be a mother” you muttered, slightly in shock.

Catelyn let out a laugh “I can’t believe I’m going to be a grandmother.”


Robbs reaction to your pregnancy had been even better then you could have hoped. As soon as the words had left your mouth he had lifted you up into his arms. You buried your head into the crook of his neck. You couldn’t tell if he was crying or laughing, but you knew he was overjoyed.

Throughout the pregnancy Robb had been extremely protective of you, worrying about everything you did. You couldn’t even go on a ride without him insisting to come with you. Arya had told you that he was obsessed, but you found his care endearing.

The bump had started to show just after you broke then news to Robb, and the Starks were constantly crowding around you, trying to see if the baby was kicking yet.

You were lying in bed curled up with Robb the first time that you felt the baby kick. Robb was snoring softly when you woke him.

“Robb! The baby’s kicking!” you elbowed him lightly and he groggily began to wake up.

He quickly came to his senses when he heard the word baby “Wait Y/n is everything okay?” he said, shooting up quickly.

He quickly placed his hand against your bump, a smile spreading across his face. You couldn’t wait to start your family with the man you loved.


Giving birth was the hardest thing that you had ever done, but Robb got you through it. Despite the midwifes insistence that Robb needed to leave, he remained stuck to your side, holding your hand the whole time.

“Come of Y/n one more push. You can do this.”

“I-I I Can’t do this Robb…” you said exhausted “Please I can’t”

Robb squeezed you hand tight “You can do this love.”

It took the last of the energy you had left, but you gave one final push. You didn’t immediately hear the baby cry, and panic rose in your chest. Was there something wrong, was your baby safe?

Then you heard the baby cry. Your baby. It was the best sound you had ever heard.

Robb was silent as the midwife place the baby in his arms, totally in awe of the tiny person you had both created. He looked on the edge of tears.

“Y-y/n… we’ve got a daughter Y/n. Our little girl.”

You let out a sob when you saw your child. Suddenly all of the hours of pain and discomfort were forgotten, as Robb handed you your daughter. Her eyes were closed as she grabbed onto your little finger with her hand. You hadn’t known you could love someone so much.

Robb kissed you on the forehead, then kissed the top of your baby’s head “She’s perfect, you’re perfect. Gods I love you both – more than I know how to say.”

You looked up at your husband, the man you loved “Lyanna. She’s called Lyanna.” The look on his face told you that it was perfect.

Shitty and Tater stared at each other while Jack ordered three coffees and some banana bread from the bakery.

“Hey guys, coffee’ll be here in a bit. That was some workout, right? Shits, you gotta work on your core more,” Jack said as he returned to the table.

“Yes, yes, very interesting gym conversation,” said Tater impatiently. “Now I’m congratulate you on proposal with B.”

“I have the whole thing on tape and I think I’m going to cry for the fifth time just thinking about it,” Shitty said. “I’ve replayed it three times already.” 

Jack laughed, “This way you won’t cry when we show it again at the wedding, eh?”

“Jack you beautiful bastard, you know I’m going to be sobbing my ass off, especially when I’m giving my speech.”

“Speech? What speech?” Tater asked. “Jack not choose best man yet. Who know if you make speech? Maybe I’m best man and make speech.” 

Jack glanced at the way the two men are glaring at each other. He gingerly got up from their table.

“I think our coffee orders are up. Imma go and get them.” 


“Ransom, Holster,” Bitty sat in front of the two of them in his Sunday best, the sun catching on his golden hair and an innocuous golden band on his hand. “I have a very important favor to ask you two.”

Ransom glanced at the ring on Bitty’s finger. “We’ve talked about this and neither of us can be your best man, bro.”

“Yeah, we can’t cheat on each other like this. Bros don’t let bros be best men and feel left out,” Holster added. 

Bitty was almost vibrating. “I know! That’s why I’m asking the both of you to be my co bestmen!! Ransom, Holster, will you two do me the honor of making me the happiest groom on earth?” 

“BRAHH!”

“YES YES YES, A THOUSAND TIMES YES!!!”

Work it Out •P1•

Bucky x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: after pulling a muscle on a mission, you need to stretch out your leg while working out. But you need help to do so. There’s only one person around to help.

Word Count: 2595 (I got carried away!)

Warnings: language + references to smut + angst

A/N: I have so much unfinished hw and I’m writing a fanfic. honestly I should just drop out I can’t anymore w school. anyway, enjoy 💛


“That bad?” Wanda says, chuckling breathlessly. I shake my head. A familiar pain strikes through my thigh and I wince. Wanda looks at me in concern. “Stop.” she says. I look at her for a moment, almost limping on the treadmill, before pressing the “Stop” button and letting the conveyer belt slow to a halt. She finishes her own as well, wiping the sheet of sweat off her forehead.

“He literally ate his rice with his hands.” I sigh. Wanda raises her eyebrows. “I don’t know when the dating pool shrunk to all the losers.” I shake my head.

Keep reading

“do you ever think of him?”, his best friend asked me.

“it doesn’t matter”, i said, trying to shrug him off.

he looked at me and then at his fumbling hands.

“it’s just…”, he stopped and looked at me.

i looked at him too, quizzically. “what?”

“he talks about you a lot. he…he’s still in love with you, i can tell.”

“he left me, not the other way around. he is responsible for this, not me. he made a choice and now he has to live with it. when he broke up with me all that time ago, i was broken and every part of me ached for him. i wanted him back so badly, but i don’t anymore. i’ve finally put all my pieces back together and i don’t need him coming back into my life and crushing everything again. he made a choice, and he has to live with it, just like i had to survive it.”

—  e.s. // his choice.
Then Vs. Now

Things I didn’t know back then, but I do now:

  1. To draw hair is not to draw all the different strands of hair. Hair is ONE entity, to be drawn as one shape.
  2. If you don’t get the proportions in your basic drawing right, no matter what you do, your final output is going to be awful (see left.)
  3. Smudge sticks are your best friend, USE THEM MORE THAN YOU USE PENCILS!
  4. Cheeks have shapes too.
  5. Draw shadows, not objects.
  6. Use the darkest, softest pencil you can get your hands on.
  7. 70 GSM printer paper DOES NOT last.
  8. Use a camera which doesn’t add a red coloured time stamp to the picture.

Hopefully, I’ll keep learning more :)

TURTLE SOUP

“You’re a very odd man, Jamie Fraser.”

He laughed at that, and swallowed the rest of his orange.

“Oh, I am, aye? And what d’ye mean by that?”

“Frank loved me,” I said slowly. “But there were…pieces of me, that he didn’t know what to do with. Things about me that he didn’t understand, or maybe that frightened him.” I glanced at Jamie. “Not you.”

His head was bent over a second orange, hands moving swiftly as he scored it with his dirk, but I could see the faint smile in the corner of his mouth.

“No, Sassenach, ye dinna frighten me. Or rather ye do, but only when I think ye may kill yourself from carelessness.”

I snorted briefly.

“You scare me, for the same reason, but I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do about it.”

His chuckle was deep and easy.

“And ye think I canna do anything about it, either, so I shouldna be worrit?”

“I didn’t say you shouldn’t worry—do you think I don’t worry? But no, you probably can’t do anything about me.”

I saw him opening his mouth to disagree. Then he changed his mind, and laughed again. He reached out and popped an orange segment into my mouth.

“Well, maybe no, Sassenach, and maybe so. But I’ve lived a long enough time now to think it maybe doesna matter so much—so long as I can love you.”

Speechless with orange juice, I stared at him in surprise.

“And I do,” he said softly. He leaned into the berth and kissed me, his mouth warm and sweet. Then he drew back, and gently touched my cheek.

“Rest now,” he said firmly. “I’ll bring ye some broth, in a bit.”

I slept for several hours, and woke up still feverish, but hungry. Jamie brought me some of Murphy’s broth—a rich green concoction, swimming in butter and reeking with sherry—and insisted, despite my protests, on feeding it to me with a spoon.

“I have a perfectly good hand,” I said crossly.

“Aye, and I’ve seen ye use it, too,” he replied, deftly gagging me with the spoon. “If ye’re clumsy with a spoon as wi’ that needle, you’ll have this all spilt down your bosom and wasted, and Murphy will brain me wi’ the ladle. Here, open up.”

I did, my resentment gradually melting into a sort of warm and glowing stupor as I ate. I hadn’t taken anything for the pain in my arm, but as my empty stomach expanded in grateful relief, I more or less quit noticing it.

“Will ye have another bowl?” Jamie asked, as I swallowed the last spoonful. “Ye’ll need your strength kept up.” Not waiting for an answer, he uncovered the small tureen Murphy had sent, and refilled the bowl.

“Where’s Ishmael?” I asked, during the brief hiatus.

“On the after deck. He didna seem comfortable belowdecks—and I canna say I blame him, having seen the slavers at Bridgetown. I had Maitland sling him a hammock.”

“Do you think it’s safe to leave him loose like that? What kind of soup is this?” The last spoonful had left a delightful, lingering taste on my tongue; the next revived the full flavor.

“Turtle; Stern took a big hawksbill last night. He sent word he’s saving ye the shell to make combs of, for your hair.” Jamie frowned slightly, whether at the thought of Lawrence Stern’s gallantry or Ishmael’s presence, I couldn’t tell. “As for the black, he’s not loose—Fergus is watching him.”

“Fergus is on his honeymoon,” I protested. “You shouldn’t make him do it. Is this really turtle soup? I’ve never had it before. It’s marvelous.”

Jamie was unmoved by contemplation of Fergus’s tender state.

“Aye, well, he’ll be wed a long time,” he said callously. “Do him no harm to keep his breeches on for one night. And they do say that abstinence makes the heart grow firmer, no?”

“Absence,” I said, dodging the spoon for a moment. “And fonder. If anything’s growing firmer from abstinence, it wouldn’t be his heart.”

“That’s verra bawdy talk for a respectable marrit woman,” Jamie said reprovingly, sticking the spoon in my mouth. “And inconsiderate, forbye.”

I swallowed. “Inconsiderate?”

“I’m a wee bit firm myself at the moment,” he replied evenly, dipping and spooning. “What wi’ you sitting there wi’ your hair loose and your nipples starin’ me in the eye, the size of cherries.”

I glanced down involuntarily, and the next spoonful bumped my nose. Jamie clicked his tongue, and picking up a cloth, briskly blotted my bosom with it. It was quite true that my shift was made of thin cotton, and even when dry, reasonably easy to see through.

“It’s not as though you haven’t seen them before,” I said, amused.

He laid down the cloth and raised his brows.

“I have drunk water every day since I was weaned,” he pointed out. “It doesna mean I canna be thirsty, still.” He picked up the spoon. “You’ll have a wee bit more?”

“No, thanks,” I said, dodging the oncoming spoon. “I want to hear more about this firmness of yours.”

“No, ye don’t; you’re ill.”

“I feel much better,” I assured him. “Shall I have a look at it?” He was wearing the loose petticoat breeches the sailors wore, in which he could easily have concealed three or four dead mullet, let alone a fugitive firmness.

“You shall not,” he said, looking slightly shocked. “Someone might come in. And I canna think your looking at it would help a bit.”

“Well, you can’t tell that until I have looked at it, can you?” I said. “Besides, you can bolt the door.”

“Bolt the door? What d’ye think I’m going to do? Do I look the sort of man would take advantage of a woman who’s not only wounded and boiling wi’ fever, but drunk as well?” he demanded. He stood up, nonetheless.

“I am not drunk,” I said indignantly. “You can’t get drunk on turtle soup!” Nonetheless, I was conscious that the glowing warmth in my stomach seemed to have migrated somewhat lower, taking up residence between my thighs, and there was undeniably a slight lightness of head not strictly attributable to fever.

“You can if ye’ve been drinking turtle soup as made by Aloysius O’Shaughnessy Murphy,” he said. “By the smell of it, he’s put at least a full bottle o’ the sherry in it. A verra intemperate race, the Irish.”

“Well, I’m still not drunk.” I straightened up against the pillows as best I could. “You told me once that if you could still stand up, you weren’t drunk.”

“You aren’t standing up,” he pointed out.

“You are. And I could if I wanted to. Stop trying to change the subject. We were talking about your firmness.”

“Well, ye can just stop talking about it, because—” He broke off with a small yelp, as I made a fortunate grab with my left hand.

“Clumsy, am I?” I said, with considerable satisfaction. “Oh, my. Heavens, you do have a problem, don’t you?”

“Will ye leave go of me?” he hissed, looking frantically over his shoulder at the door. “Someone could come in any moment!”

“I told you you should have bolted the door,” I said, not letting go. Far from being a dead mullet, the object in my hand was exhibiting considerable liveliness.

He eyed me narrowly, breathing through his nose.

“I wouldna use force on a sick woman,” he said through his teeth, “but you’ve a damn healthy grip for someone with a fever, Sassenach. If you—”

“I told you I felt better,” I interrupted, “but I’ll make you a bargain; you bolt the door and I’ll prove I’m not drunk.” I rather regretfully let go, to indicate good faith. He stood staring at me for a moment, absentmindedly rubbing the site of my recent assault on his virtue. Then he lifted one ruddy eyebrow, turned, and went to bolt the door.

By the time he turned back, I had made it out of the berth and was standing—a trifle shakily, but still upright—against the frame. He eyed me critically.

“It’s no going to work, Sassenach,” he said, shaking his head. He looked rather regretful, himself. “We’ll never stay upright, wi’ a swell like there is underfoot tonight, and ye know I’ll not fit in that berth by myself, let alone wi’ you.”

There was a considerable swell; the lantern on its swivel-bracket hung steady and level, but the shelf above it tilted visibly back and forth as the Artemis rode the waves. I could feel the faint shudder of the boards under my bare feet, and knew Jamie was right. At least he was too absorbed in the discussion to be seasick.

“There’s always the floor,” I suggested hopefully. He glanced down at the limited floor space and frowned. “Aye, well. There is, but we’d have to do it like snakes, Sassenach, all twined round each other amongst the table legs.”

“I don’t mind.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, “it would hurt your arm.” He rubbed a knuckle across his lower lip, thinking. His eyes passed absently across my body at about hip level, returned, fixed, and lost their focus. I thought the bloody shift must be more transparent than I realized.

Deciding to take matters into my own hands, I let go my hold on the frame of the berth and lurched the two paces necessary to reach him. The roll of the ship threw me into his arms, and he barely managed to keep his own balance, clutching me tightly round the waist.

“Jesus!” he said, staggered, and then, as much from reflex as from desire, bent his head and kissed me.

It was startling. I was accustomed to be surrounded by the warmth of his embrace; now it was I who was hot to the touch and he who was cool. From his reaction, he was enjoying the novelty as much as I was.

Light-headed, and reckless with it, I nipped the side of his neck with my teeth, feeling the waves of heat from my face pulsate against the column of his throat. He felt it, too.

“God, you’re like holding a hot coal!” His hands dropped lower and pressed me hard against him.

“Firm is it? Ha,” I said, getting my mouth free for a moment. “Take those baggy things off.” I slid down his length and onto my knees in front of him, fumbling mazily at his flies. He freed the laces with a quick jerk, and the petticoat breeches ballooned to the floor with a whiff of wind.

I didn’t wait for him to remove his shirt; just lifted it and took him. He made a strangled sound and his hands came down on my head as though he wanted to restrain me, but hadn’t the strength.

“Oh, Lord!” he said. His hands tightened in my hair, but he wasn’t trying to push me away. “This must be what it’s like to make love in Hell,” he whispered. “With a burning she-devil.”

I laughed, which was extremely difficult under the circumstances. I choked, and pulled back a moment, breathless.

“Is this what a succubus does, do you think?”

“I wouldna doubt it for a moment,” he assured me. His hands were still in my hair, urging me back.

A knock sounded on the door, and he froze. Confident that the door was indeed bolted, I didn’t.

“Aye? What is it?” he said, with a calmness rather remarkable for a man in his position.

“Fraser?” Lawrence Stern’s voice came through the door. “The Frenchman says the black is asleep, and may he have leave to go to bed now?”

“No,” said Jamie shortly. “Tell him to stay where he is; I’ll come along and relieve him in a bit.”

“Oh.” Stern’s voice sounded a little hesitant. “Surely. His…um, his wife seems…eager for him to come now.”

Jamie inhaled sharply.

“Tell her,” he said, a small note of strain becoming evident in his voice, “that he’ll be there…presently.”

“I will say so.” Stern sounded dubious about Marsali’s reception of this news, but then his voice brightened. “Ah…is Mrs. Fraser feeling somewhat improved?”

“Verra much,” said Jamie, with feeling.

“She enjoyed the turtle soup?”

“Greatly. I thank ye.” His hands on my head were trembling.

“Did you tell her that I’ve put aside the shell for her? It was a fine hawksbill turtle; a most elegant beast.”

“Aye. Aye, I did.” With an audible gasp, Jamie pulled away and reaching down, lifted me to my feet.

“Good night, Mr. Stern!” he called. He pulled me toward the berth; we struggled four-legged to keep from crashing into tables and chairs as the floor rose and fell beneath us.

“Oh.” Lawrence sounded faintly disappointed. “I suppose Mrs. Fraser is asleep, then?”

“Laugh, and I’ll throttle ye,” Jamie whispered fiercely in my ear. “She is, Mr. Stern,” he called through the door. “I shall give her your respects in the morning, aye?”

“I trust she will rest well. There seems to be a certain roughness to the sea this evening.”

“I…have noticed, Mr. Stern.” Pushing me to my knees in front of the berth, he knelt behind me, groping for the hem of my shift. A cool breeze from the open stern window blew over my naked buttocks, and a shiver ran down the backs of my thighs.

“Should you or Mrs. Fraser find yourselves discommoded by the motion, I have a most capital remedy to hand—a compound of mugwort, bat dung, and the fruit of the mangrove. You have only to ask, you know.”

Jamie didn’t answer for a moment.

“Oh, Christ!” he whispered. I took a sizable bite of the bedclothes.

“Mr. Fraser?”

“I said, ‘Thank you’!” Jamie replied, raising his voice.

“Well, I shall bid you a good evening, then.”

Jamie let out his breath in a long shudder that was not quite a moan.

“Mr. Fraser?”

“Good evening, Mr. Stern!” Jamie bellowed.

“Oh! Er…good evening.”

Stern’s footsteps receded down the companionway, lost in the sound of the waves that were now crashing loudly against the hull. I spit out the mouthful of quilt.

“Oh…my…God!”

His hands were large and hard and cool on my heated flesh.

“You’ve the roundest arse I’ve ever seen!”

A lurch by the Artemis here aiding his efforts to an untoward degree, I uttered a loud shriek.

“Shh!” He clasped a hand over my mouth, bending over me so that he lay over my back, the billowing linen of his shirt falling around me and the weight of him pressing me to the bed. My skin, crazed with fever, was sensitive to the slightest touch, and I shook in his arms, the heat inside me rushing outward as he moved within me.

His hands were under me then, clutching my breasts, the only anchor as I lost my boundaries and dissolved, conscious thought a displaced element in the chaos of sensations—the warm damp of tangled quilts beneath me, the cold sea wind and misty spray that wafted over us from the rough sea outside, the gasp and brush of Jamie’s warm breath on the back of my neck, and the sudden prickle and flood of cold and heat, as my fever broke in a dew of satisfied desire.

Jamie’s weight rested on my back, his thighs behind mine. It was warm, and comforting. After a long time, his breathing eased, and he rose off me. The thin cotton of my shift was damp, and the wind plucked it away from my skin, making me shiver.

Jamie closed the window with a snap, then bent and picked me up like a rag doll. He lowered me into the berth, and pulled the quilt up over me.

“How is your arm?” he said.

“What arm?” I murmured drowsily. I felt as though I had been melted and poured into a mold to set.

“Good,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Can ye stand up?”

“Not for all the tea in China.”

“I’ll tell Murphy ye liked the soup.” His hand rested for a moment on my cool forehead, passed down the curve of my cheek in a light caress, and then was gone. I didn’t hear him leave.

The types as “The Lord of the Rings” quotes - Part. 1: GANDALF

ENFJ - “Only a small part is played in great deeds by any hero.”

INFJ - “Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them?” 

ESTP - “The burned hand teaches best.”

ISTP - “A treacherous weapon is ever a danger to the hand.”

ENFP - “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

INFP - “I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.”

ENTP - “Three hundred lives of men I have walked this earth and now I have no time.”

INTP - “He that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom.” 

ENTJ - “It is wisdom to recognize necessity, when all other courses have been weighed, though as folly it may appear to those who cling to false hope.”

INTJ - “The wise speak only of what they know.”

ESTJ - “He cannot be both tyrant and counsellor.”

ISTJ - “The treacherous are ever distrustful.”

ESFP - “A traitor may betray himself and do good that he does not intend.”

ISFP - “It is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay.”

ESFJ - “It is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set.”

ISFJ - “Often does hatred hurt itself!”


The types as quotes from Elves.