but peruse as you will

Fandometrics in Depth: The Defenders

Early this morning, in the weeist of hours, Netflix (@netflix) released a miniseries two years in the making: The Defenders. The show features four major characters that each starred in their own Marvel (@marvelentertainment) show: Daredevil (@daredevil), Jessica Jones (@jessicajones), Luke Cage (@lukecage), and Iron Fist (@marvelsironfist). 

These four shows have had their time in the Fandometrics spotlight and the community around them is extremely dedicated. The excitement for the new series is nearly palpable. With all four characters on one show, The Defenders is set-up for success.

The Defenders, historically

The first series to debut was Daredevil on April 10, 2015, followed by Jessica Jones on November 20, 2015, Luke Cage on September 30, 2016, and Iron First on March 17, 2017.

With 16 appearances on our Television list, Daredevil has appeared on more lists than any other Defender, partially due to being the only series that had a second season run thus far. Jessica Jones has appeared eight times and Luke Cage twice. Iron Fist never made it onto a Fandometrics list. This could be attributed to the whitewashing controversy around the titular character’s casting. Y i k e s.

The stars have appeared on our Celebrities list a number of times as well. Charlie Cox and David Tennant are tied with each appearing four times. Though David Tennant is beloved for his time as the Tenth Doctor, most of his rankings took place in late 2015, correlating with the release of Jessica Jones.

Originally posted by sarcasmismy0nlydefense

The Defenders, currently

We parsed data and perused our lists from the last six months to bring you the hottest, freshest numbers. Though Iron Fist was the most searched (120% more search volume than the next highest Defenders show) and most posted about (9% more search volume), Jessica Jones wins for most reblogged (3% more reblog volume). Daredevil, which fell into the number two spot for searches, original posts, and reblogs, had the most likes; 4% more than Iron Fist.

Originally posted by akamatthewmurdock

For your consideration

If you want to take your time with the new episodes, there’s tons of stuff on Tumblr to sift through in between your binge-watching. May we suggest you start with:

And finally, don’t forget to tag your spoilers, pals.

Originally posted by stevenrogers

The Signs As Things I Love About Life

Aries: When you fall in love with someone over and over again.
Taurus: When you get to hold someone’s hand for the first time or receiving a really tight and warm hug.
Gemini: When you laugh so hard that your stomach begins to hurt, but you continue to laugh because of the amount of joy it brings you.
Cancer: Seeing a baby or small child smile at you or hearing the laughter of a baby.
Leo: When you unexpectedly have an amazing day and it leaves a permanent smile for the rest of the day.
Virgo: When you’re listening to certain music that makes you feel calm and gives you chills that causes your hair to stand up.
Libra: Having a strong interest in something and perusing it.
Scorpio: When you release all the emotions you’ve been repressing and you finally get an sense of relief.
Sagittarius: Going on adventures with your friends and having the time of your life.
Capricorn: When you watch a movie with a deep meaning and it gives you a different outlook on life.
Aquarius: Sitting down in a crowded area and watching people going on with their lives and wondering “who they are” and “what is their story”.
Pisces: Being alive.

anonymous asked:

Where do you find anatomy references? I can never find any good ones

I have a Pinterest just for this!! It’s open to public and I never go anywhere else to find references (because Pinterest is just too good to me ww) so feel free to peruse my whole account to find whatever you need! Here are the anatomy specific boards that I have:

(Potential nudity warning for almost all of them, pretty much!)

Female:

https://www.pinterest.com/arucelli/ref-anatomy-female/

Male:

https://www.pinterest.com/arucelli/ref-anatomy-male/

General Anatomy tips:

https://www.pinterest.com/arucelli/ref-anatomy/

https://www.pinterest.com/arucelli/ref-head/

https://www.pinterest.com/arucelli/ref-hands/

https://www.pinterest.com/arucelli/ref-torso-back/

https://www.pinterest.com/arucelli/ref-torso-front/

https://www.pinterest.com/arucelli/ref-legs/

https://www.pinterest.com/arucelli/ref-feet/

Poses:

https://www.pinterest.com/arucelli/ref-poses/

https://www.pinterest.com/arucelli/ref-couple-poses/

https://www.pinterest.com/arucelli/ref-fighting-poses/

Additionally, here’s some other stuff I’ve also done in regards to anatomy:

Posts I’ve made on anatomy:

http://arucelli.tumblr.com/post/149612264533/typically-when-people-are-taught-how-to-draw

http://arucelli.tumblr.com/post/152425562204/how-exactly-do-you-draw-the-shape-of-the-head-i

+ a masterpost I made with links to figure drawing websites:

http://arucelli.tumblr.com/post/142534306654/figure-drawinganatomy-link-reference


Have fun Anon!!

Sheriff Knows Best

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

(Credit for the title to @cobrilee!)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods. “Can I get you anything?”

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

“Your son?”

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

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

“Happy to help,” he says.

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

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

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

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he promises.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And who exactly is he?”

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

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

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

“No, Dad, don’t actually—”

Keep reading

10

Dear ‘Raffe (Short for giraffe),

It’s weird. Our relationship still excites me like brand new shoes although we’ve walked so far together already. I decided yesterday, amidst leaving subtle kisses along your neck and jaw as you snored your life away, that I’m going to give you all of me.

At this point, you may be wondering what I’ve been giving you all of this time if it isn’t all of me… and I can tell you… I’ve been giving all of what I thought I could. Something about last night, in the moments that I could feel your belly rise up and down, grazing my own ribs in rhythm, that I realized, with you, I’m not scared to be more, to be anything and everything. You revive, ignite, and create parts of me I killed, put to sleep or wasn’t aware of at all.

You make me proud to carry all of my identities. I feel pretty and handsome. I feel strong lifting you in the air or being bent over by you. You speak to every part of me.

You’ll stumble on this post  in a few minutes or weeks, depending on when you feel like perusing my Tumblr. I hope you understand how you make me feel in this moment.

Love,

~ Love

—-

Thank you to anyone who has supported our journey and our

Youtube Channel (Tae and Lou). The support has been so appreciated.

Solar System: Things to Know This Week

This week, we celebrate the fifth anniversary of the moment our Mars Science Laboratory mission landed the Curiosity rover in Gale Crater. 

In fact, this summer brings several red letter days in Red Planet exploration. Here are 10 things to know about the anniversary of the Curiosity landing—plus some other arrivals at Mars you may not know about.

This self-portrait of NASA’s Curiosity Mars rover shows the vehicle at a drilled sample site called “Okoruso,” on the “Naukluft Plateau” of lower Mount Sharp. The scene combines multiple images taken with the rover’s Mars Hand Lens Imager (MAHLI) on May 11, 2016. Credit: NASA/JPL-CALTECH/MSSS

1. Seven Minutes of Terror 

For Curiosity, landing on Mars meant slowing from about 13,000 MPH (21,000 KPH) to a full stop in just seven minutes. Engineers came up with an innovative–and bold–plan to make this happen, but no one could be 100% certain it would work. In this video, some of the Curiosity engineers who designed the entry, descent and landing system for the mission talk candidly about the challenges of Curiosity’s final moments before touchdown in August 2012.

2. Sweet Success 

Relive the tension, and the celebration, of the night Curiosity landed on Mars. You can also simulate the entire landing process in 3-D on your own computer using NASA’s free Eyes on the Solar System app.

3. Echoes of Ancient Waters 

What has Curiosity discovered during its roving so far? The key takeaway: the stark deserts of Gale Crater were once home to lakes and streams of liquid water, a place where life could potentially have thrived. Learn more about the mission’s scientific findings.

4. Pretty as a Postcard

Sometimes science can be beautiful, as pictures from Mars prove. You can peruse some of Curiosity’s best shots. What’s more, you can see the very latest images—often on the same day they’re downlinked from Mars.

5. Take It for a Spin

Have you ever wanted to try driving a Mars rover yourself? You can (virtually anyway). Try the Experience Curiosity app right in your web browser.

6. Mars Trekking 

Maybe someday you’ll be able to take a day hike across the Martian landscape. You can at least plan your route right now, using NASA’s Mars Trek site. This interactive mapping tool lets you explore important Red Planet locations using actual terrain imagery from orbiting satellites. You can even retrace the real locations on Mars where the fictional astronaut Mark Watney traveled in “The Martian.”

7. A First Time for Everything

Curiosity stands (well, rolls) on the shoulders of giants. Several NASA missions blazed the trail for the current crop of robotic explorers. The first was Mariner 4, which is also celebrating an anniversary this summer. Mariner 4 was the first spacecraft to return photos of another planet from deep space when it flew by Mars on July 15, 1965. Mariner engineers were so impatient to see the first pictures it sent back, that they hand-colored a printout of raw numeric data sent by the spacecraft, in order to construct one of the first color images of Mars.

8. Pathfinders and Panoramas 

Another important pathfinder on Mars was…Mars Pathfinder. This mission just marked its 20th anniversary. To commemorate the first successful Mars rover, NASA created a new 360-degree VR panorama of its landing site you can view right in your browser.

9. One Small Step for a Robot

The first spacecraft to make a successful landing on Mars was Viking 1, which touched down in the Chryse Planitia region on July 20, 1976. It worked for more than six years, performing the first Martian soil analysis using its robotic arm and an onbaord biological laboratory. While it found no conclusive evidence of life, Viking 1 did help us understand Mars as a planet with volcanic soil, a thin, dry carbon dioxide atmosphere and striking evidence for ancient river beds and vast flooding.

10. Mars Explorers Needed 

There is much more to come. The next Mars lander, InSight, is slated for launch next year. Ride along with NASA’s ongoing adventures on the Red Planet at: mars.nasa.gov/mars-exploration/

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com 

cvvtx  asked:

Hi! This is really random but I bumped into one of your posts and I've ALWAYS been interested in witchcraft since I was really young. Recently I keep thinking about it and stuff but idk where to begin. I was wondering if you could tell me?:)

Sure, I’ll try my best! I do have a beginner tag where you can find this original post, but I’m going to copy and paste the majority of it for the purpose of this ask.

“I’m going to start off with three things you should consider before deciding to be a witch. These are not necessary, but are suggestions.

One - What is your primary goal or what you want to achieve from becoming a witch? If you are just interested in it for the aesthetic, or because you think it will make you look cool, I would reconsider the reason behind your interest. This isn’t to say that people haven’t come to witchcraft this way and have been successful, but it may take you longer to grow into. Something else to consider is that having this identity can be dangerous depending on your location and situation. Those that dress as witches for the aesthetic are probably not trying to be harmful, but can sometimes cause a false sense of belonging to those that are practicing witches. (I asked a girl once if she was a witch because she wore a pentacle and I was looking for a local friend and she laughed at me.) Being a witch is often lonely and kept as a personal identification.

Two - Witchcraft can be happy and sunshine and rainbows, but at it’s base it is not something to laugh about. Witchcraft is about using the world around you and bending it to your will. That is a huge responsibility to have on your shoulders, as what you do can often affect others around you, whether you mean it or not. You have to be able to accept that witchcraft means work, responsibility and dedication. It is not a toy.

Three - Not everything you see is up for grabs when it comes to magical practices. There is (yes, there is) such a thing as Cultural Appropriation and it is a harmful thing to spread and practice. I’ll leave you more information on this later, but the point is that not all practices and paths are open for you to explore. You need to be able to look at everything objectively and do research and ask questions. Where does this practice come from? Who started it? What culture is it from? More often than not, when you engage in these types of practices, you are not even getting the original information. Why would you want to so something that is just a half-assed version? It’s disrespectful and harmful to the actual, living people of color (POC) that still practice the original forms of magic or ideology that so easily gets passed off as “ancient and mystical” when it is really just a white-washed version.

Some other tidbits to keep in mind.

Magic is not black and/or white. It is a neutral force that you bend to your intentions. Calling “good” magic white, and “bad” magic black only propagates racial inequality and the subliminal message that POC are evil.

You don’t have to be Wiccan to be a witch. Wicca is a religion/cult/practice where members worship the god and goddess, revere nature and often use magic in order to supplement worship. They follow The Rede and the Three-Fold Law. Most of what you will see on Tumblr is actually Neo-Wicca, which does not require a practitioner to be initiated into a group by way of a Priestess or otherwise. Wicca is an initiatory cult. Neo-Wicca is based off of Wiccan teachings, and often allows the practitioner to be solitary.

You can follow a religion (any) or you can not follow a religion. Witchcraft can be viewed as a religion on its own, but generally speaking it is a practice that can be blended with religion or not.

Witchcraft does not equal Satanism - as Satanism has many forms and ideologies it branches to as well, some not even involving magic.

You don’t have to be pagan or worship any deities to be a witch.

You don’t need to be white to be a witch. (I’ve been asked this!!!)

You don’t need to be straight to be a witch.

You don’t need to be able-bodied to be a witch.

You don’t need crystals.

You don’t need fancy tools.

You don’t need to read Tarot.

You don’t need an Ouija board.

You don’t need to communicate with spirits.

You don’t need a familiar.

You don’t have a spirit animal unless you are Native American and studying in a tribe. (Please read this post)

Smudging is also NA, see above. Please refer to it as smoke cleansing.

You can curse.

You can choose not to curse.

You don’t have to practice every day.

You can take extended breaks.

You don’t even have to call yourself a witch! Witch is a gender neutral term, but some feel uncomfortable using it because of its feminine history. You could use Wix, sorcerer(ess), magician, practitioner, cunning man/woman, etc. You don’t even need a title at all.

You don’t need a magical name unless you want one.

I’m sure I’m forgetting something along the way, but the bottom line is that whatever you choose to do, you are valid. All you need is yourself and the drive to learn and practice, whatever that may mean to you. There is no right or wrong way to be a witch, unless you are doing something that is harmful to oppressed cultures and people.”

Reading Material

Mostly, I’ll be using my tags for this, so that you can peruse as you wish!

Beginner Witch Masterpost - via @magic-for-the-masses

Witchy Masterposts - everything you’ll ever need, especially for beginner ideas like energy work and visualization.

Types of Witches Masterpost - to help you narrow down your focus on your path if you feel necessary!

Cultural Appropriation in Witchcraft - can get a bit heated, so take that into consideration.

Deities - offerings and masterposts of pantheons

Witch Tips - beginner friendly tips

Spoonie Witchcraft - beginner friendly and good for low energy work

Books - PDFs and book references for purchase

Astrology - fun stuff mostly and some informational posts

Herbs - associations and precautions

Tea - witchy essential

Coffee - also a witchy essential

Bath Magic - beginner friendly

Sigils - low energy and beginner friendly

Crystals - lots of pictures, some informational posts and precautions.

Curses - if you dare

Kitchen Witchcraft

Moon Magic

Storm Witchcraft

Tarot Tips - side blog

Other Divination

Anything else you are welcome to search on my blog by typing in torque-witch.tumblr.com/search/(enter word here) or you can visit my FAQ for more information.

Blog Recommendations

Witchcraft

@breelandwalker

@badoccultadvice

@belladonnaswitchblog

@cunningcelt

@cosmic-witch

@cxnnxr-slxan

@da-at-ass

@death-witch-envy

@frankiezaltar

@hellboundwitch

@hylianshrinemaiden

@herbalburbal

@ioqayin

@intuitive-witch

@littledoomwitch

@magic-for-the-masses

@magicianmew

@nightkunoichi

@nerdywitchmomma

@orriculum

@oldmotherredcap

@phoenix-fire-witchcraft

@potato-witch

@qedavathegrey

@recreationalwitchcraft

@rainy-day-witchcraft

@rootandrock

@stormbornwitch

@stormwaterwitch

@spellboundwitchcraft

@thewitchexchange

@themoonmysteries

@thekitchenapothecary

@upthewitchypunx

@unmaskingthedivine

@visardistofelphame

@witchy-words

@witchy-woman

@wheelchairwitch

Divination

@a-lavender-moon

@alethiomancer

@afoolsgrace

@coffeeandtarot

@deathandtarot

@followthewindreadings

@intuitive-rose

@limoniume

@loganscove

@moondusttarot

@queenofchalices

@ravenmagill

@swampseer

@tarot-dreams

@tarot-cards-and-tea


Some of these blogs do overlap with witchcraft and divination, but these are people I follow and respect. If you have any questions please feel free to send me and ask or message me! That goes for anyone :)

gaming antics [m]

summary: taeyong has been too distracted by his games lately so you decide to snap him out of it.

pairing: gamer!taeyong & reader insert

includes: smut (fingering, penetration, facial, oral)

wc: 6k

note: Im back! :’) With a new fic about my babe, Taeyong. Haha. I hope you guys like it!


Taeyong had always been an avid gamer.

He would spend hours on end smashing his thumbs all over the game controller while spitting curses to his frustrated friends through a small headset. Those hours sometimes ran into an entire day, and maybe he skipped out on catching a few winks of sleep—to put it short, he was in love with gaming. Since your friendship began with Taeyong you had known how much of a hardcore gamer he was—gaming was how the two of you bonded, so his love for the hobby never really bothered you to begin with.

Not until you started to date him a couple of months ago. He attempted to change his habits and shape himself into a decent boyfriend who could go on multiple dates with you whether they are small breakfast meetups or quick coffee runs. Those lasted for a good while, but he reverted to his original self soon afterwards, almost like the lively dates with you are not as fun as the silly shooter games he spends his life on. He reverted back to the game invested Taeyong—the one that spends more time staring at a flashing screen, furiously pressing on the loose buttons of his controler, than looking at his girlfriend.

You always attempted to talk to him while he took those short breaks. Usually he spent a good five to ten minutes getting water or catching a breath of fresh air outside, but he typically shrugged you off. This time you were going to take a different approach—a very distracting approach.

Keep reading

Would You Look At That

A/N: That photo of Shawn waiting in the check out line inspired this. Late night grocery store shopping + running into each other. 

Wow, I’m on a roll with fluff. Let’s see how long I keep this up. 

Feedback appreciated. Enjoy. 


You don’t know what possessed your roommate to drag you out of the comfort of your warm bed to go grocery shopping, yet there you are. The bright neon sign glares at you as you park and you can’t help but turn your head to do the same.

“Sonya, tell me again why we’re here at…11 o’clock at night?” You pull your phone out to check the time. Whatever she needed could wait until the morning.

“We literally have nothing for breakfast,” Sonya retorts. “We’re also out of toilet paper,” she confesses. You groan in annoyance, letting your head fall back onto the headrest.

“Alright, alright. I guess that couldn’t wait.” You can’t say you’re surprised, though. Both of you have been busy with school and work, so it’s simple to overlook necessities like food and toilet paper.

Sonya hustles towards the carts  to wrangle one. You can barely keep your eyes open until you step into the store and the the harsh florescent lights invade your vision.

Keep reading

Hufflepuff Headcanon #4

There is a magical cabinet in the Hufflepuff common room filled with all sorts of comfort food. Tomato soup, warm mac and cheese, cups of warm melted chocolate with shredded wheat, you name it. No one knows when this cabinet came to existence, but everyone just assumes it was quite long ago because over the years, the cabinet has become a mini-supermarket with multiple floors. You will probably find Hufflepuffs perusing the shelves or, if they’re in a rush, making food fly to them with their wands, at any time of day, especially late at night.

Every year it grows bigger and bigger because new students are constantly introducing new comfort foods. The creators of this cabinet made it so that the cabinet restocks magically by itself so that students don’t have to sneak to the kitchen during late night study sessions and risk getting caught. They can simply walk across the room and find exactly what they want in that cabinet. 

| Scars | Tadashi Hamada

“Gotcha!”

Hiro jolted, nearly jumping out of his own skin as hands covered his eyes from behind.

“Haha, very funny,” He mumbled, ignoring his aunt’s laugh in the back of his ears. His mind was already running a mile a minute, going over possible deductions of who could be holding him hostage.

Hand texture, usual smell, height advantage, time of the day, others are at the lab-

In only ten seconds he had a pretty good idea.

“Get off Y/N,” he wiggled in your hold. You squawked in indignation at how quickly he had figured it out. What in the world?

“Who’s that?” You lowered your voice exponentially, trying to keep him still.

He jabbed an elbow lightly in your side, distracting you enough to loosen your hold. His palms came up to skillfully push yours from his face, slinking out like a snake.

“Nice try,” He turned to peer up at you through a thick mess of tussled brown locks, wide almond eyes perusing your form.

You huffed. “Not fair, you mini prodigy.”

Hiro’s lips curved upwards into a smirk as he raised an eyebrow, but it was instantly wiped off when you took the opportunity to roughly ruffle his tussles of hair.

“Quit it!” He whined and you laughed.

“Yeah, yeah,” you let him go for now, glancing up the stairs. He caught your fast look and crossed his arms over his chest, giving you a knowing stare.

“What?” You broke his eye contact, unnerved. How a kid managed to do that to you was a mystery in of itself.

“He’s up there,” Hiro mused, starting to walk away. “How about you stop gawking and actually go say hi?”

Your mouth dropped open. “You little!”

You went to give him a lesson but he was already running away, snickers trailing through the air with him. You playfully shook your fist at his back, ignoring the slight pink tint to your cheeks.

“Brat,” you muttered with no bite in your tone, starting to head up the stairs.

He was indeed up there, you thought as you heard the familiar mumblings of his voice.

You paused, taking in a deep breath before continuing, lightly tiptoeing so that you could surprise him as well.

Your head peeked around the corner when you reached the top of the stairs-

And you nearly choked.

(In your defense, it was totally their fault their room didn’t have a freaking door.)

For a couple seconds your mind couldn’t process what it was seeing as you watched Tadashi Hamada lightly stretch, pulling his shirt up and over his head. Heat exploded across your face and you ogled helplessly, eyes fixed on the firm muscles of his back rolling underneath the skin, his pants dangerously low on his hips.

It was only when you saw his hands stray to his waist, probably to dispose of his lower article of clothing as well, that the choked noise escaped the back of your throat.

He stiffened, twisting around, confusion making his eyebrows furrow. When he saw your tense form he brightened for a second, just a second, before he went even more rigid, a shadow falling over his face.

As he was now faced towards you, you saw something you didn’t before, something that made any sense of a blush leave your cheeks.

Light patches of skin, lighter than the rest of his body crossed over his chest and splotched parts of his arms.

It was only a glimpse because Tadashi was shoving his shirt back on in no time, eyes darkened. However, it took only that glimpse to fill you with worry, especially now that he wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“Tada-” you began, only to be cut off when he turned away.

“Not right now,” he mumbled, shoulders trembling a bit. You stepped closer, concerned he may have taken your worry at his scars for disgust.

“But-”

“I said not right now, Y/N,” He repeated, firmer, a bitter tone to his words. They struck right through you and you pursed your lips together to keep them from wobbling.

Then your embarrassment, worry and shame all changed to anger.

“Fine then!” You narrowed your eyes. He met your gaze to see you walking towards him with purpose in your steps, eyes ablaze.

Tadashi backed up but stopped when you pushed a finger into his chest, teeth gritted.

“Try to push me away as much as you can,” you growled. “But don’t ever get the wrong idea about yourself mister.”

You slammed a fist onto the dresser beside you. “My house. Three hours. Come. Or else.”

Then you were swishing away, storming out the room and down the staircase again.

Tadashi stared after you blankly, your frustrated expression at the forefront of his mind. He didn’t know how long he was in space when he heard the footfalls of feet coming back up the stairs.

His mouth opened, ready to apologize but closed when he saw his brother round the corner.

“Oh,” he muttered.

Hiro blinked but gave it no mind, yawning as he walked past him to sit by his computer.

“Y/N told me to tell you to wear clothes you wouldn’t mind getting messy,” he drawled, starting up the monitor. Tadashi frowned and Hiro shrugged.

“No idea what that means, but I’m guessing you do,” he said.

Tadashi sighed, looking up at the ceiling. You would be the death of him one day.

He was knocked out of his thoughts when a fist connected with his gut, knocking the wind out of him.

He gawked at his brother, face an unmistakable expression of what the hell?

Hiro just smiled innocently. “She also told me to do that.”


Knock knock

Tadashi stood outside your door, nervously running his hand through his hair before pulling on his cap. When nothing happened after that fifth set of knocks, he contemplated just heading back.

Why had you asked him to come if you weren’t even home?

Before he could even consider leaving any further, frantic footfalls echoed beyond the door. You opened it with such vigour the hinge slammed against the door. You panted, staring up at your friend.

“Sorry!” You all but squeaked, trying to appear casual as you leant against the door, and failing. “Some of the paint spilt on me and I had to wash it off.”

You didn’t do much of a good job, Tadashi wanted to say but held his tongue, looking at the bright yellow stain of paint in your hair and streaking your chin.

Wait, paint?

“Come in,” you made a beckoning motion. He shuffled in, barely keeping up with you as you dragged him to your living room.

There were pillows placed strategically on the floor, a large, old white cloth lying on the tile. Bottles of paint and brushes speckled in between the pillows and around the blanket.

You plopped down with as much grace as a bear, rearranging your legs Indian style and patting the floor next to you. Tadashi hesitantly followed your suggestion and sat beside you, maintaining a little distance.

“Wha-”

You interrupted him by slowly reaching over to one of his hands. When he didn’t object, you swallowed and gathered your courage, holding the other and squeezing his weathered palms with your own, warmth traveling into your own.

You returned your gaze to Tadashi’s, who was staring back at you with something unrecognizable in those fragmented eyes.

Oh, Tadashi.

Intense distress settled at the bottom of your stomach. What had happened to him?

That was a stupid question, you chastised yourself. Of course you knew what had happened to him.

A memory of the same man before you flickered before your eyes, but this time he was in a bed, in a stark white room, gaunt, unconscious and barely breathing on life support. His locks spread around his face like a halo, a few gray hairs where there weren’t before, the equally white sheets about his form making him appear as an angel.

Six months. Six months he had been in a coma after the fire. He had barely survived, sustaining horrible injuries and leaving him unresponsive in a hospital bed for half a year.

At the time even the doctors where saying that they might have to pull the plug, it really didn’t seem that Tadashi was going to make it. Hiro had been devastated.

You didn’t like to think back to those dark days, the ones where the kid had become lost in his anger, hellbent on getting revenge. The debacle with Professor Robert Callaghan, where he had nearly destroyed half of the town when the portal gates had collapsed. Thankfully due to Hiro, Baymax and the rest of his friends from the robotics department, they had practically saved the day.

(You were the only one to know of their “secret identities” as Hiro could never ever lie successfully in front of you to save his life.)

But then soon after a miracle took place, the doctors detected brain activity that shouldn’t have been there.

Tadashi woke up.

It was only for five minutes, and afterwards he slipped back into his coma, but it was hope. Over the course of the next months he went in and out of full consciousness. Eventually your prayers were answered and he made a full recovery.

If you thought your heart had burst from joy, you couldn’t imagine to replace the emotion that passed onto Hiro’s face when he heard the news.

You smiled fondly down at your interlocked hands with said person, before it melted away.

Tadashi was different. Gone was the dork that annoyed you with his constant rambling of scientific discoveries, the kind soul who would drop anything to help a kid crying on the street, the cheeky grin that dimpled his handsome face when he stole your art supplies from under your nose.

He had come back broken.

Burn marks blemished places all over his body, the discolouration causing him to wear extra coverage at all times, the life sucked right of those honey brown eyes. The fire had not only caused trauma to his mental state, but it had also left its permanent stamp physically.

“I want to show you that you’re still beautiful,” you mumbled as an answer to his inquisitive scrutiny on you. Your thumb brushed lightly over a scar that peeked above the gloves on his hands that he now wore, a flush rising up your neck at your blatant words.

When you gathered enough courage to bring your eyes back to his you were blown away by the utter emotion that had rekindled on his face, slowly cracking away the mask he had built to block away the rest of the world.

He smiled, just barely, but a smile nonetheless. His hand squeezed yours back as he raised a brush at his side.

“Go ahead.”

You grinned.

“Thank you,” you breathed, inspecting his body in a way only an artist could, any lewd thoughts completely wiped from your mind. Then you scratched the back of your neck as you realized you didn’t have much to work with. “You’ll have to…”

Tadashi blinked before realizing what you were asking him to do. He grimaced, looking as if he had been stung, before taking in a deep breath and pushing away his fears. He rolled up his pants till they were at his knees, ignoring your protests as he shrugged off his jacket and unbuttoned his long sleeved shirt, putting that to the side as well. His gloves were thrown behind him to land somewhere on the couch.

The rest of the hour was filled with the whirring of the fan above your heads and a comfortable silence, interrupted only by your asks of what designs he would prefer you use. With every stroke of the paintbrush along his disfigurements and burns, it was as if you were healing a part of his very soul.

You created skies on his limbs, stars dotting the horizons of his chest, worlds in oceans on his wounds and heaven in a wildflower on his gashes. Entire universes were at the subject of your dexterous fingers as you dipped the brush in paint once more.

Eventually you took to flowers when you reached his shoulders, swirling the tip of your brush in water to remove the turquoise hue, dipping it in pink afterwards.

“Careful,” you mused as you returned the brush to the curve of his neck. “Pink might make you look girly.”

He chuckled, and you both gave wry smiles as you caught each others eyes. You knew he could care less, and that that was also a ridiculous stereotype.

Petals unfolded along his jaw, bending and curling up around his ears, expanding its beauty as you traced a blossom underneath a rather horrible burn splattering his left eye.

When you finally finished you exhaled a cool breath, observing your work and nodding in satisfaction.

“Stay right here!” You said, getting up in a hurry and rushing to your room, limping a bit from a dead leg, the blood rushing to it in pins and needles. When you returned, sitting back down, you held a handheld mirror.

“Here,” You offered him. He took it tentatively from you, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

He inhaled deeply once more, a motion you recognized as something he did to give himself courage, before lifting it up and from him so that he could see his reflection.

The clock ticked.

Both of you were reflected in the smooth of the silver, and you could see yourself peering curiously over his shoulder at his own expression. You grew anxious when he only stared, not reacting.

“Do you not like it?” You bit your lip anxiously. “I’m sorry, we can wash it off-”

“Y/N,” He interrupted you, facing you with his eyes glazed with something that looked suspiciously like moisture. “I love it.”

“Y-You do?” Your eyebrows went up before you laughed nervously, pushing his shoulder. “Ah I mean of course you do! I did it of course!”

He raised an eyebrow and you bit your lip again to restrain your utter joy.

“Thank you,” He said, and something must have really been wrong with you because simple words should not be able to have your heart doing flips. “I mean it.”

“You’re welcome,” You puffed out your chest ridiculously, and was gifted with the sound of his contagious chuckle again. Your pride switched to perplexity when he picked up a brush himself, plunging it in the red.

“What? Did I miss a spot?” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to see any blank space you may have overlooked. He shook his head, and your heart jumped again when he scooted closer, lifting your arm.

“I just wanted to return the favour,” He mumbled.

“Oh? You don’t have-” You grew even more confused when all he did was swipe a small stripe of paint onto your forearm before putting the brush back down. “-to?”

When he was sure you were going to burst with questions, his lips tilted.

“I don’t need to add anything else. You’re already beautiful.”

You were one hundred percent sure you had died and gone to heaven.

Your face burned horribly and you pursed your lips when he lifted his hand to cover a smile.

Oh, funny was it?

“Wait,” You mock grimaced, peering at his face and pausing his laughter. “I think I painted this wrong. Verbena flowers have four petals right?”

“Actually,” he piped up. “They have five. And they’re not always pink. Some are shades of blue, white, or purple.” He licked his dry lips. “The genus was split somewhere along the European lineage-”

You just put your chin in your palm, watching fondly as he trailed off into scientific terms and ideologies you had no ability keeping up with.

As he did, the fire and passion returned to his eyes just as they had before his tragedy, and his voice became animated in the way only his could. His hands couldn’t keep still as he gestured and his body language told the story. It would have been better if you had baited him to talk about some kind of engineering or robotics, but this was just as good - he was a nerd in everything it seemed.

As he talked you saw a man without the pain in his eyes, without the burns, a genius of his own right making his mark on the world. Then you stopped seeing the past and saw the same man, now only hardened by life, the same generosity and cold cut intelligence in his voice, this time covered in scars and flowers.

And you realized you loved both.

“- had longstanding use in herbalism and folk medicine, usually as - ”

Tadashi paused, coming back down to earth when he noticed the look on your face. His lips pursed in a pout. “You’re not listening at all are you?”

“Nope,” you didn’t even try to argue, smirking. When he registered that you had tricked him, his eyebrows came together in frustration before a smirk curled his lips.

“I was wrong,” Tadashi said. “Actually, you do need a bit more paint.”

Before you could weave through the intentions of that statement he had dipped his entire hand in the paint and smacked you right in the face.

It didn’t hurt of course, but you were left stunned, his snickers in the background as you no doubt had a great red handprint on your visage.

You leaped forward in retaliation slamming both your hands in the paint and having every goal of giving him a new makeover.

He laughed loudly as you attacked him like a rabid animal, trying to escape. In your movements, you knocked off his cap and it went tumbling to the floor.

“Ha!” You said, straddling him as you reached to push your fingers in his face. You froze when his melted chocolate eyes crinkled in happiness, entirely more noticeable now that the hat was gone, his disheveled strands of hair accentuating them even more.

Tadashi stopped only a little after you did, and you realized too late your position.

You blushed and went to remove yourself. “Ah, sorry, so sorry-”

Your voice trailed off when he placed a hand on your hip, preventing you from moving.

Your breath hitched.

“I u-uh-” you stuttered, uselessly struggling further as he leant forward, nose touching yours and when had he reached so close? “What a-are you-?”

“You talk too much,” He murmured, ending your prattle successfully by closing the distance between your mouths.

Your raised hands dropped, going limp.

They regained life later only to clutch at his shoulders when your back hit the floor, paint spilling all around the two of you.

[MasterList]

midnight drive [m]

summary: the waiter at a new restaurant is more than dashing and he catches every fragment of your attention. good thing you decide to stay after hours, to which he gladly offers a late night drive to you that only escalates into something more.

pairing: waiter!johnny & reader insert

includes: fluff, smut (car sex, fingering, oral, penetration)

wc: 12.2k

note: I know the cover picture is a sunset, but I couldn’t find a good photo of a midnight drive ;~; Anyway i hope you guys like my new fic! I used johnnys korean name by the way—i was really torn on which of his name to use… haha


It had been a monotonous day.

Ever since you woke early dawn for your morning run with your close friend and roommate, Yuju, you had been nothing but drained; your energy was gone like the wind. You did not get enough sleep to begin with and dealing with the drone-like strangers on the streets, a grumbling stomach—everything—was an arduous chore. She proposed the idea of going out for dinner again at her favorite local restaurant—one of the few places you actually despised because you found the food quite distasteful. But due to the many times you resisted ensconcing yourself within the confinements of the dim, fancy restaurant you finally complied with Yuju to eat there once.

You spent your day pacing the apartment as Yuju ran errands; you sometimes wasted hours by staring at the flickering television. Then, once she arrived back to the apartment on the dot of seven o’clock, she pestered you to get ready and kept the angry question of why you were lounging on the couch locked in her chest. You responded with a groan and pulled yourself from the sofa to drag yourself into the restroom.

You freshened up with a quick shower and minimal makeup, tossing on a dress nicer than usual and giving you the pop of spendthrift. You waited patiently in the kitchen for Yuju, who was taking her sweet time in perfecting the minor particulars of her makeup and hair. You were leaning on the counter, lips pursed into a pout as you dreaded the upcoming dinner. The food at Yuju’s favorite restaurant was nothing but bland to you, and you groaned at the thought of the given sustenance.

Yuju finally waltzed out of the bedroom appearing resplendent than most normal patrons, a bright smile sheening her face more than the diamond necklace that looms from her neck. Her shoulder length hair curved perfectly inwards, providing the appearance of a black sea of silk. “We’re just going out to dinner,” you commented with an eye roll.

“And I gotta look my best!” she responded while grabbing onto her keys. “Come on, I want to beat the line.”

You stepped out of the apartment and began walking to her vehicle. “If you spent half the time you did on your makeup, we would have skipped the line.”

Yuju only smiled. Inside her lean black vehicle she prepared to drive; the engine purred and she turned up the pop tunes of her fresh radio. She stirred up mindless conversations amidst the transport, rapidly jumping from topic to topic—probably from excitement of eating at her favorite restaurant. After all, it was not everyday for you to agree to an annoying event.

She parked close to the curb messily, moving slow and careful as her head turned to peer back, then to the front. Your fingers were drumming on your thighs as she steadied the car, and when she finally parked it close to flawlessness you felt as if you found a solace.

You and Yuju exited the lean black vehicle with a scenic smile, feet meeting the sidewalk as heads turn your way. You were gawking at the familiar sights, taking in the known scenery and recognizable architecture, and amidst the moment something different caught your eye—no, someone.

There was a waiter in Yuju’s favorite restaurant across the street serving drinks to a table outdoors, a shining beam gracing his expression. His hair swept over his forehead in a handsome manner, and the uniform he adorned seemed as if it was immaculately tailored for him specifically—because he looked that perfect. You felt your face get hot, a hopeless grin painting on your face and it matched his own.

“Are you ready to go?” Yuju asked you, shattering your reverie.

“Huh?” Your body jolted from her words and you flashed your attention back to her. “Ah, y-yeah.”

Yuju looked to where your attention was directed: right at her premier restaurant—the one that you found distasteful. She raised an eyebrow, piecing together two and two because you were never interested in what her loveable restaurant had to offer to eat. Then, it hit her. It was not the food—nothing like the outstanding drinks that came in an array of colors—it was a man, the waiter, that caught your eye.

And in that very moment, eating at the once despised restaurant did not appear all-too-bad.

Keep reading

friendly-neighborhood-hufflepuff  asked:

Hi! I'm very curious as to what Hunger Pains actually is. I know it's a book but as far as I know it's Hunky Dory here's some very nice plot, let's get down to business TO DEFEAT.. THE HU- I mean- ANYWAYS I know next to nothing about your book and I have a Need To Know Things.

Hunger Pangs (don’t worry, my husband calls it Pains all the time and I have the draft manuscript On. My. Wall.) was a shit post written just over a year ago after @jeneelestrange goaded me into it.

(source)

If you go through my tags #Hunger Pangs and #the vampire werewolf thing, you will finds lots and lots of meta and the occasional snippet of fiction. Some of it is very NSFW, and has been marked as such. I hope to get most of that archived on Ao3 at some point for easier perusal, I just haven’t had the time yet.

I will request that you be careful when typing #Hunger Pangs into the tumblr search function, as the tag is unfortunately used predominantly by eating disorder blogs, often ones not aimed towards recovery. This is something I was not aware of at the time when I started tagging the book and I’ve since started using HPangs (also Phangs) more often and am working my way back through the tags to fix this. If you wish to look at things pertaining only to my work through that tag, the url link is here: https://thebibliosphere.tumblr.com/tagged/hunger%20pangs

By request there is going to be two versions of the book, one with kink, and one without for those who prefer more fluff than smut in their reading repertoire. This is something I plan to do for all my future novels as well for those who are interested in my work, but don’t necessarily want to read about kink. 

The whole thing was supposed to be me just flipping tropes on their head for funsies, with the original draft intended to be a short 10k satire of the paranormal romance trope where Totally-Average-Girl gets sucked into a magical world and becomes the heated love interest of two usually “dominant” supernatural males and a toxic love triangle ensues (among other things). It was a trope I had to work with a lot in the industry as an editor, and became somewhat of a pet peeve of mine. So much so that somewhere along the line this fun little satire turned into a full 60k+ manuscript with happy, healthy polyamory instead, where nobody dies. Because that is also a trope in bi poly romance novels that can fuck right the fuck off as well. I mean, one of them’s already kinda technically dead?? But he’s fine with it.

The focus is on three main characters, a vampire called Vlad, a werewolf Nathan, and a being of as of yet undisclosed species who goes by the name of Ursula, and how they are brought together in a fantasy AU regency styled world torn apart by war and prejudice. If Game of Thrones ascribes to the idea that the world is dark and full of terrors, Hunger Pangs is the weird cryptid fancier asking where you can find them and are they looking to date anyone right now.

It’s ultimately a story of struggle, betrayal and power. But above all else Hunger Pangs is about love, romantic or otherwise, and the lengths people will go to in order to protect what is good and right in the world. It’s love as an act of bravery and defiance. And also punching fascists with your werewolf boyfriend, but that was honestly just a happy narrative coincidence that happened to coincide with the absolute shit show 2017 has turned out to be. 

It’s heavy on puns, satirical commentary and at times, moments of outright defiance.

Author friends who have read the raw manuscript have described it as being, “like reading the queer-goth-punk love child of Terry Pratchett and the Addams Family filled with hope and rage” and honestly I’ve never been more proud or terrified of anything I’ve ever done in my entire life.

I’m hoping to have the pre-order on Amazon up by the end of October, with full release planned for sometime around Christmas, provided my health holds out and I don’t end up needing more emergency surgery. So far the odds are looking good :)

The artwork for the covers has been designed by our very own @whales-and-witchcraft/ @umicorms and is just, I have no words for how much I love it. I can’t wait to share it with all of you. I’m so excited.

Terrified. 

But excited.

anonymous asked:

do you have any tips for feeling less down about ace discourse? ive just been seeing a lot of hate and its been making me feel like i dont belong in the community. i have really bad intimacy issues which made me feel like im aro, but im more or less demi-panromantic ace. i went to pride today and everyone was super loving and inclucive, but ive just seen a lot of hate recently and it makes me feel like ive been faking it the whole time or am broken in some way. Any advice?

oh man, anon, i am right there with you. the most i can say is: blacklist what you can, unfollow who you have to unfollow, block who you need to block (if you know someone who regularly starts shit, you can blacklist their url as well as block them, then any post with their url on it won’t show up on your dash). try to find blogs that post positive things like @splend-aros or @affirm-ace-ions (this blog hasn’t updated in a while, but you can still peruse it, whenever you’re feeling down). read stuff with ace characters

if you come across something that looks ace-negative, just close your eyes and scroll past; don’t linger, don’t entertain, don’t engage. distract yourself with something else if you have to. it sucks knowing that people like that exist, but you can’t change all of their minds and you aren’t obligated to spend the emotional energy trying, and it’s not worth the sacrifice to your mental health to agonize over every ace-negative post you see

i know sometimes it feels like you have to do something, but sometimes what you have to do is take care of yourself. i wish you well, anon

~Mod Q

Roses - Fred Weasley

Prompt: Ravenclaw reader has been receiving gifts from an anonymous sender and after her friend drags her to the second match of the Triwizard Tournament, their identity is revealed.

Word count: 7,305 (sorry I got carried away)

Warnings: Maybe two swear words, other than that nothing


A bouquet of luscious red rose tied together rested against the door frame. Your breath hitched in your throat as your school work fell from your hands. They collided with the floor in an instant creating an echoing crash to follow.

Most cases you would have rushed to pick them up but the gift contained all your attention. Your fingers pressed to the side of your jaw, the palm of your hand covering your mouth to mask the gasp.

You scanned the hallway searching for any form of life. The empty corridor suggested no lead on as to who dropped the surprise off. Although there was a note attached to the clear plastic outer layer.

Bending down at the knees you plucked the thick card from the envelope and flipped it open. Excitement flooded you like a schoolgirl receiving a valentine. Not that this was too far from reality.

You unfolded the card gleefully yearning to see who the sender was. The tilted black cursive reflected opposite to the chicken scratch you had been gifted with the week before. This was neat, almost as if it had come fresh from a typewriter.

Keep reading

Douchebag Part Two (Anthony Ramos x Reader)

My Masterlist 

Ant’s Masterlist 

Request Queue

Warnings: Sex baby lez talk about gettin freaky 

Happy Sequel Sunday! This is a collab with the wonderful and beautiful and calzone-loving @adothoe :D She’s the bomb and don’t listen to a word she says in her author note below she’s a liar 

Ant’s A/N- “hi this is ant and all the sarcastic and witty lines are from me yw”

Words- 4,485

Song- Shh–Raye

“I can’t believe you’re actually making me do this.” Anthony sighed and fisted a hand in his hair. He parked the car in a lot and got out, quickly walking up to the mall entrance.

“Look,” You jogged to catch up to him. “You promised me you’d get me a new bra. And since it’s been about a week since you so rudely ripped mine, it’s about time. How many bras do you think I own anyway?”

Anthony groaned. “I’d buy you every bra in the world if it would make you shut up.”

“Classy.”

“My job is to buy you a new bra. Not to be happy about it.”

You stepped into the entrance of the black and pink store, pausing when you realized that Anthony wasn’t following you anymore. You turned around and gave him a look.

“You’re not actually making me go in, right?”

“That depends. Would you rather me run rampant in a lingerie store with your credit card?” you teased.

“Alright fine. I’m coming.”

“You act like it’s a punishment, Ramos,” you said when he caught up with you. “Here’s an entire store filled with beautiful women trying on cute underwear.” You hit his chest and grinned at him. “Make the most of it.”

Leaving him in the middle of the store, you made your way to the demi bra display. You looked through the drawers to find your size, weighing each color and pattern.

“These aren’t very sexy.”

You didn’t look up from your perusal. “The main function of a bra is to hold your tatas up, not to look nice.”

“I liked the one you were wearing in the supply closet.”

You looked up at him. Your pulse picked up slightly as his words brought memories to the surface of your mind, but you quickly tried to hide it. “Fine, Ramos, what would you pick?”

Smirking, he immediately made his way to the lingerie section. Rolling your eyes, you followed.

Anthony picked up several different bras that left very little to the imagination. He handed them to you. “How about these?”

“How do you know my size?”

“I figured if you were gonna make me buy you a new bra, I’d better know which ones would fit. So, I went back to the supply closet and found the size on that bra. Why are there numbers and letters?”

“It’s just…nevermind. Ask the hot size lady to explain it to you.”

“So….are you gonna try these or what?”

You looked down at what was essentially a pile of lace pooled in your hand. “I guess if you’re the one buying it,” you mumbled. You walked over to a sales lady and she showed you to a fitting room but stopped Anthony before he could walk in with you.

“You can wait for your girlfriend on the couch over there.”

“What? She’s not my…fine.”

You walked into the room you were directed to. The lady asked if you needed help but you said you were fine.

Once safely locked inside, you stripped off your shirt and current bra. You tried on a few of the ones Anthony had picked out. They were nice, but you still felt unsure. You looked at yourself through different angles in the mirror, trying to decide if it even looked normal on you. It seemed so fancy; what if you got far with someone and it looked like you were trying too hard? Did it make your back look weird? You encountered the same issue with every bra, and by the time you got to the last one, a low cut, nude bra with navy blue lace running over it, you were on the fence and feeling more than a little insecure.

“Hey Ant?” you asked tentatively. No response. “Ramos?” you said a bit louder.

“Yeah?”

“You’re a guy right?”

You could barely hear a sigh of disappointment. “Yeah Y/N….I’m pretty sure you know I’m a guy.”

You pursed your lips. “I just…” You cracked the door of the dressing room open slightly, peeking only your head out. “I need your opinion,” you whispered. You looked around for the sales woman.

“What?” Anthony stood off the couch and slid his phone into his back pocket. You motioned for him to come over.  “What do you need?”

“I…can you just-” you sighed and grabbed him by the middle of his shirt, pulling him into the room with you.  You locked the door and leaned against it. Knowing Anthony was standing behind you, watching with careful eyes, you felt your body start to heat up. You took a deep breath and turned around to face him. “Does this look okay? Like is it…hot?”

Anthony stared at you for what felt like forever. You couldn’t read his expression, but his mouth hung open slightly.  “Ant?” you asked meekly. You felt the desperate need to cover up and wrapped your arms around your stomach.

Anthony cleared his throat. “It’s um, it’s good.”

“Are you sure?” you looked down at yourself.

“Trust me. You wanted a guy’s opinion and I’m giving it. You look really, really sexy right now.” he said breathlessly.

“Do I actually?” You walked past him and looked in the mirror.

“Yeah, I uh…yeah.”

You smirked and turned around to face him. “Is the great Anthony Ramos having some issues right now?” you teased.

“Yeah, actually.”

You were slightly taken aback by his response. “Dude, I was kidding.”  You walked over and reached up to pull a hair off his shirt. He grabbed your wrist quickly.

“I’m not.” Your eyes widened slightly, and your heart started to hammer. “And you’re moving into seriously dangerous territory right now.”

“Honestly, Ramos. You’re not scary at all. You’re a teddy bear.”

He stepped closer to you and you were suddenly very aware that you were half naked. “Was I a teddy bear when I fucked you against a wall?”

“You didn’t fuck me against a wall, you fucked me on a couch in your dressing room.”

He smirked. “The intention was there.”

You pressed against him. “But your dick wasn’t.”

“You know what’s better than fucking you against a wall?”

You sighed. “I don’t know, Ramos. What?” He grabbed your biceps and pushed you until you felt cool glass hit your back.

“Fucking you against a mirror.” He dipped his head down and started to kiss your neck. You let out a shaky breath and put your hand through his hair, arching into him.

“Ant?” Your voice was small and shaky. “Here?”

He smirked against your skin. “Sounds kinda fun, doesn’t it?”

“It sounds, um, risky.” You swallowed hard.

“Let me get this straight, you’ll fuck in your place of work but not in a Victoria’s Secret?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away. “Pro tip, Ramos. If you wanna have sex with a girl, maybe you should be nice to her.”

“I’ve never been nice to you and that didn’t stop you before.”

You smiled widely. “Thanks for admitting that you’re a total asshole.” Anthony rolled his eyes. “You know I don’t need to stay here. I can walk home.” You reached back and started to unhook the bra. You paused before pulling it off.

“If you’re waiting for me to ask you to stop taking your clothes off, you’re bra shopping with the wrong guy.”

You took the bra off and shoved it against his chest. “Go pay for this, douchebag,” you said, raising your eyebrows at how he obviously moved his gaze to your bare chest.

Anthony smirked and grabbed the bra. “Sure thing, princess.”

You sighed and fell back against the door. What was that about? The first time had been in the heat of the moment, maybe a mistake even, but this was calculated. He wanted you, and part of you hated to admit it, but you knew that you wanted him too. It was something in the way he kissed you. It made your knees go weak.

You quickly got dressed and walked out to see him waiting for you.

“That’s a big bag for one bra, Ramos.”

“I picked up a few things on my way out.” You moved to take the bag from him but he pulled back before you could. “Know the meaning of the word surprise?”

“You say that like you’re going to see me in these.” You reached for the bag again.

“I fully intend to, princess.” You crossed your arms and glared at him. “Don’t get pouty.” he teased. “Come on let’s go.”

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“I bought them, you model. It’s an easy deal.”

“Can’t get girls to undress for you by yourself, Ramos,” you teased.

“I think we both know what I can do to a girl. Right, Y/L/N?”

“Whatever. It was just work stress. And it happened one time so you can’t keep bringing it up like it meant something.”

“It meant that no matter what you say, you think I’m attractive, and that’s all that matters.”

“Well I could say the same for you Mister ‘Parade-around-in-your-underwear-for-me.’”

“Hey, I never denied thinking you’re hot. I just said you’re bossy and annoying and sooo uptight and-”

“Yeah we get it!” You snapped. You could hear Anthony laughing, but you were too distracted looking at yourself in the mirror. He had chosen a black lacy bra with a sheer corset hanging down, complete with matching lace panties and garter hook to attach to the black stockings. It was…intense, but you didn’t hate it.

“Relax, Y/L/N. You really need to unwind.” His mouth dropped open when you walked out of his bedroom wearing the complicated piece of lingerie.

“I really don’t think this counts as a bra, Ramos.”

He regained his composure and smirked at you. “It holds the tatas up, doesn’t it?”

You frowned and crossed your arms over your chest. “Don’t use my words against me.”

“You know, there’s one way that it wouldn’t count as a bra.”

“What’s that?”

“If you took it off.” You rolled your eyes at him but he grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “It wouldn’t be holding up the tatas anymore, would it? In fact, I can think of something much better to hold them.”

“Oh really?”

“Oh yes.” He wiggled his fingers at you.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re not complaining.”

You leaned against his doorframe and smiled. “You know it really is amazing how much I seem to turn you on, Ramos.”

“Is it a crime to get a boner by looking at an attractive woman in lingerie?”

“If it was, you’d have to be punished.”

“Really?” Anthony raised an eyebrow at you. Your eyes widened in horror.

“No! Not like-that’s it I’m leaving.” You went back into the bedroom to change.

“Suit yourself but I was ready to have some fun.”  You rolled your eyes and didn’t respond, opting to pull your pants and shirt on instead. “C’mon Y/N.” You sighed at the way he said your name, your first name. “It’s been a week since it happened and we haven’t talked about it outside of the jokes everyone makes.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft and you could tell he was leaning against the door.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You pulled the door open and he stood up quickly, looking over your now clothed figure. You grabbed your jacket and purse off his table. “It was a mistake. We were stressed. It’s not gonna happen again, and it didn’t mean anything.” You said firmly. Anthony’s eyes met yours briefly before they darted to the ground. “Consider it talked about.” You moved towards his door.

“Wait! Let me take you back.” Anthony grabbed the edge of the door.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s New York City, Ramos. I’ll catch a cab.”  You tried to pull the door open further but he stopped you again.

“Just let me be nice, Y/L/N.”

You searched his eyes for an ulterior motive, but he seemed to be, for once in his life, serious. So you let him drive you home.


Two show days were becoming your worst nightmare. Not only did they take up the entire day so that there was no possibility of getting anything else done, but you spent the entire day with Anthony. You had been avoiding him semi-successfully since your modeling career had abruptly ended, but you two were co-workers and it was getting harder and harder to avoid run-ins with him, especially when the rest of the cast was always speculating about your lives.

“So they’re not together,” you heard Pippa ask Renee in a stage whisper.

Renee shook her head. “They were finally starting to get along too.”

“I think it’s only a matter of time,” said the third Schuyler sister. “Do you see the way he looks at her?”

The girls shuffled away to take their marks for A Winter’s Ball and you sighed, thinking about what they said. Did he really look at you a certain way?

As if your thoughts of him conjured him up, Anthony brushed past you to make his way to the stage, not apologizing in the slightest, and hey-ing across the stage with Lin and Leslie.

You clenched your fists and took a deep breath, trying not to lose it. Maybe it was an honest mistake.

But it was Anthony. It was never an honest mistake with him.

Jon witnessed your anger and started to snicker lightly. You glared at him and he held his hands up innocently. You huffed and sat down on the stairs. You just wanted to go home. Two show days really were the worst.

You put your head between your hands. Everything was just so confusing. You went from hating him, to sleeping with him, to some weird and awkward friendship, and apparently back to hating him again all in one month. You preferred it back when he was nothing more to you than an annoying bug buzzing in your ear, but somehow everything felt bigger than that now.

“Maybe you should just fuck him again. Seemed to work last time.”

You sighed and rubbed your face. “Or I could quit and not have to deal with him ever again.”

Anthony chose that fantastic moment to come back from the stage, waiting for his Helpless cue. “You’re quitting?” You couldn’t read his face.

“I never said-”

“Wow, Y/N. That seems like something you’d tell your friends.”

You crossed your arms. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ramos. I wasn’t aware we were friends.”

He glared at you then looked back at the stage. It was time for him to go back. “Whatever. I have to go.”

And he did, without looking back.


You were on edge for the rest of the night. You were stuck in a limbo between wanting to scream and punch and wall and wanting to sit down and just give up. You couldn’t understand how Ramos had such an effect on you. He was pissed at you, so what? It wasn’t the first time. You couldn’t figure out why, though. As far as you were concerned he was the one who decided to act like a dick out of nowhere again. You had been trying to reach him somehow but no matter what things were tense and awkward, and you were convinced that had to be his fault.

You were packing up your things after the show when he came up to you again. You thought it was Alex Lacamoire coming to ask you about a tech problem again. “Alex, I’m really tired. Can we talk about the orchestra thing tomorrow?”

“Not Alex.”

You turned around and sighed again when you saw him. Crossing your arms, you stared at him tiredly. “What do you want, Ramos?”

“You’re actually quitting.” His voice sincere, but there was still an edge to it.

“I told you. I never said I was quitting. I was just having a conversation when you decided to come in and twist things,” you said defensively.

He smirked. A calm, over-confident, Ramos type smirk. “Hostile.”

“I can’t deal with this right now.” You turned back around and stuffed your phone charger in your purse. “I think you should leave.”

“I like how you think you can tell me what to do,” he said. You refused to respond. You weren’t gonna give him the satisfaction. “I’m not gonna leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have to talk to you, and it would be decent of you to listen.” You faced him. He didn’t look like he was kidding.

“Fine.” You leaned against the table your purse and coat were sitting on and stared him down. “Speak.”

“I’m not a dog, Y/L/N.”

“Maybe not in the physical definition,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Hey, at least I’m not a bitch,” he shot back.

You slammed your hands on the table behind you. “You said you had something to tell me. So tell me and then just leave.” You were starting to shake.

“I just wanna know why the fuck you’ve been little Miss Heartless and acting like I stepped on your pet or something. Why are you avoiding me like the plague? What did I do?”

Your brow creased. That was not what you were expecting. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“Bullshit. You’ve barely spoken to me in weeks.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you two months ago. You need to stop pretending, Ramos.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that!” you cut him off before he could speak. “You are pretending and you know it! You keep acting there’s something between us, and there’s not! So we fucked one time and we had to deal with that! Whatever! It doesn’t change anything! Doesn’t change that you hate me and that I-” Words caught in your throat. You felt like you were choking. You- you what? What could you say?

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, but you couldn’t say that you hated him. It just wasn’t true anymore. “And I just really can’t work with you so…so yeah maybe quitting isn’t the worst idea.”  

“No.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry? Who are you to tell me what I’m doing with my life?”

“I said no! You’re way too fucking good at your job to quit because of me-”

“I don’t care! You can’t tell me what to do!”

Anthony crossed the room. “You can’t quit, okay! I can’t…you..you just can’t-” You stared up at him while he fumbled for words. Something ignited inside you. You grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward, reaching up to attach your lips to his in a heated kiss.


Anthony made a noise of surprise, but it didn’t take him long to respond. He pressed a hand roughly against the small of your back, forcing you to arch into his chest. Everything was starting to click. You didn’t care about figuring stuff out anymore you just needed his hands on you this whole time. You tipped your head back and opened your mouth slightly, letting his tongue slip in. The hand that wasn’t holding you moved to tangle in your hair, which he tugged on lightly. A small sound escaped your lips. He smiled. You practically feel the awkwardness of the past weeks melting off your shoulders.

Anthony backed up until your thighs pressed against the edge of the table. You sat on it and wrapped your legs around his waist. He tugged your hair again, forcing you to throw your head back. He started to kiss your neck, and you bit your lip.

You moaned and the sound prompted him to suck on your neck as one of his hands reached between you to unzip your jeans.

“Fuck…” you whispered.

“I know.”

“Are we really?”

“I think so.”

“Okay.”

“Here?”

“We did it before-”

“In a dressing room-”

“No one is here, Ramos.”

Anthony started to pull down your jeans. The second they were off, he smirked.

“What?”

“So you did like the present.”

You looked down at your bare legs and saw that today you’d decided to wear one of the extra things Anthony had bought you. A nice little pair of lacy panties.

“If you rip them I’ll kill you.”

“I promise to be gentle.” he said teasingly, leaning down to kiss you again.

“Fuck that. I want you to rail me. Just don’t ruin my clothes.” His eyes widened and you ripped open his shirt, grinning at him. “An eye for an eye?”

Anthony surged forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to the edge of the table to press his erection against you.

You smiled as you kissed him, and leaned back so Anthony could tower over you. You pushed his shirt down off his shoulders, and he shrugged it off the rest of the way. He pulled away and you lifted your arms up so he could take your own shirt off. Anthony started to reach his hands towards you again but you stopped him.

You reached around your back and unhooked your bra yourself, throwing it over his shoulder onto the floor. “I don’t trust you, sorry.”

“Fine by me,” he mumbled and started sucking on the soft skin of your breast. You moaned and threaded your fingers through his curls, pulling softly.

Anthony pulled you off the table and you stumbled slightly as he pulled the lace panties down gently. You helped him out by pulling down his boxers and he immediately placed you back on the table, sliding into you all the way.

“God dammit!” Your body froze for a second with shock, but you quickly adjusted.

“You told me not to be gentle.”

You caught your breath. “I…did…”

“Then shut up.” Anthony started to thrust roughly into you. You gripped tightly onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin.

“Douchebag,” you moaned into his neck.

“Bitch,” he moaned back.

You tried to come up with a response, but your mind was starting to go blank as the feelings in your body took over. Anthony pounded into you, the table banging against the wall loudly in the empty theatre. You pulled his hair to bring his mouth back to yours and slid a hand down his chest to rest between you as you massaged his balls.

Anthony groaned and caressed his hand over your face. His fingers came to rest on your lips and you sucked them lightly, making direct eye contact with him. Anthony’s eyes glinted mischievously. He brought his now wet fingers from your mouth down to you clit and started to rub there while he thrust into you.

You moaned and arched your back, pressing your chest against his. You kissed him and pulled on his hair and he moaned into your mouth, all the stimulation making him come.

He hung his head and panted heavily into your neck. When he caught his breath, he stood up and pulled out of you gently.

“Are you serious?” you asked. “Already?”

“I’m sorry, I…you were…”

“Whatever, I’m not mad,” you said, obviously a little ticked off.

Anthony ran and hand through his hair, still breathing heavily. You had to admit that you liked the look of it, but you were feeling unsatisfied. “What?” he asked, “You thought I was gonna leave you hanging?”

“You’re not exactly a gentleman, Ramos.”

“You don’t think so?” He put his hands on his hips.

You scoffed and sat up completely, “No, I don’t.”

“Really?” He walked towards you and stood between your legs, running his hand up and down your bare thigh. You crossed your arms and shook your head. Anthony moved his hand from your thigh to in between your legs. He ran his middle finger over your slit. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Y/L/N.”

You let out a shaky breath and gripped the edge of the table. He smirked and started to kiss your chest simultaneously sliding his finger inside of you. You whimpered and pushed yourself against him. Anthony slowly moved down onto his knees and you closed your eyes in anticipation.

You felt small licks on the area around your clit and you moaned, pulling his hair to remind him not to be a tease. You could feel his lips pull into a smile and then instantly attach to your clit where he circled his tongue. He curled his finger inside of you, drawing several moans from your mouth.

You gasped when he added another finger and fisted his hair tightly. Anthony added a third finger and started to move them faster. Your toes started to curl, and you thought you were about to fall off the table.

“Fuck- Ant!”

He sucked on your clit, curling each of his fingers simultaneously. Your legs started to shake uncontrollably. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt your whole body tense for a moment before releasing.


You took several deep breaths and all but collapsed back onto the table. Anthony stood and grinned at you. “See? I can play nice.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah don’t get too confident. You still came in like 0.3 seconds.”

“I’m a guy. It happens.”

“To thirteen-year-olds masturbating for the first time-”

“You’re so-” Anthony held his hands up and sighed. “We are literally about to kill each other the second we’re done having sex. What’s wrong with us?” he said while pulling his boxers back on. You could tell why he was trying to cover up so quickly, and you almost laughed at how easy it was to turn him on.

“We don’t have to stop having sex,” you offered.

Anthony turned around and locked eyes with you. “Are you being serious?”

You shrugged, not making any move to get dressed. “We’re single. Obviously attracted to one another. It works.”

Anthony’s eyes roamed over your body. “I’m not against the idea.”

You smiled. “Why not? At the very least it’ll keep us from tearing each other’s throats out. At least in public…”

He nodded. “And you won’t quit?”

“I was kidding. You never gave me a chance to explain.”

“Sooo… friends with benefits?” He looked up at you.

“I still wouldn’t call us friends but yeah the benefits part works.”

Anthony rolled his eyes and piled your clothes next to you on the table. “Get dressed, then. We’re going back to my place.”

You stood and nodded. “I’ll meet you outside.” He took one last look over your figure before leaving the room.

You got dressed quickly and rushed down the stairs. Anthony was waiting by the door of the theater. “Ready?” he asked. You nodded and walked out of the theatre. Anthony caught up with you, and took your hand in his as you both walked out into the cool night air.

Work From Home - Smut

Originally posted by fandcm-world

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stuart Twombly/Reader
Words: 2,656
AN: A little birdie told me there’s going to be a couple of Stuart fics coming out in the next week….here’s one for ya. I love you guys, I hope you like!


Your boyfriend Stuart worked long hours a lot, and it could get pretty lonely. He loved his job, and you knew it he was good at it. He was incredibly smart, and he’d been chosen out of hundreds of applicants for the internship that got him started with Google, and you were so, so proud of him. You just missed him.

He texted you whenever he had a free moment, asking you about your day, and making plans with you for dinner, telling you stories about his co-workers, or jokes that made you laugh. But sometimes you wished he could stay in bed with you all day, putting those fingers to better use on your body, instead of on his phone or computer.

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→ a saint in her halo (m)

pairing → Seokjin x Reader

☆ genre/warnings   college!au, sunbae!jin (i’m not sure how to tag this but there are scenes of public indecency bc i am a bad person) 
↳  drabble; 2.2k

beneath his immaculate appearance and flowery words, no one would expect such filth to spew from his lips

or; kim seokjin is simultaneously the best and worst kind of distraction

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