but they acknowledge it and are fond of it and even indulge it

exchanges (m)

Summary: In which Jeon Jungkook is that friendly neighborhood superhero, you’re the face in the hallway that saved his high school career, and he can’t ever seem to get a grip around you. Even when he makes you scream after a fated accident—not for the reason you may be thinking; get the thought out of your head! 
Pairing: Jungkook | Reader 
Genre: Fluff/Smut; Spiderman AU 
Word Count: 14,838
Author’s Note: Honestly though, it was only a matter of time before I got around to writing a story like this. I am obsessed with Spiderman, so this might just be the foundational guideline for many future Jungkook Spiderman AU drabbles to come in the future. 

The story was also heavily inspired by this photo that made me cry for seven days and seven nights. +photo credit !!!!!!!

.

(the present)

If Jeon Jungkook is against anything in his life, it’s one’s ability to exaggerate certain situations or problems to make those things seem much bigger than they probably were. Well, actually, take that back. It’s not that he’s against it per say, it’s just that his peer’s daily struggles of pop quizzes and missing the morning bus aren’t exactly headliner news—especially in comparison to what he has to go through.

Jeon Jungkook is against exaggeration, probably because he can’t get away with it himself. It’s not that he doesn’t like to exchange his fair share of embellished stories or fabricated events weaved into true experiences, it’s that he can’t afford to do so. Sharing stories of his nightly routines and dashing superhero adventures may seem great, but only if he could manage the burden of a personal life and a masked life intertwining.

As an 18-year-old boy, he can probably say it’s safe to assume that he cannot. Manage the overwhelming, opposite pressure both of his lives take him, that is. It’s difficult enough being a college freshman, a tiny fish in an ocean of whales and sharks, but throw in his late night Spiderman facade would be too much of a tale to share with other people and peers who probably ask too many questions and know too much about him. He’s never liked the exposure that comes with being in the spotlight, and he can’t hide behind his mask if people knew who he was.

Oh. Right. Speaking of his Spiderman facade, that’s who is he. Haven’t heard of him? You know, the dashing hero of Seoul, red and blue spandex attire with a web shooter, fine tuned senses and amazingly quick reflexes? The boy who swings around the city, volunteering for trouble and always coming out right on top? The boy who constantly maintains that casual, slightly amused tone throughout a majority of his rescues?

Yeah, well, that’s Jungkook.

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anonymous asked:

I'm so glad that you also ship BakuDeku! Can you give us an insight as to why you love/ship them? I love reading why people love them! 💖

Oh, my God. 

First off, ah. I just. *Incoherent stuttering.* I’m very, very particular and choosy with ships. I either ship one specific couple per fandom or no one at all. So far I have only two OTPs and I adore both for entirely different reasons: KilluGon from Hunter X Hunter and BakuDeku from Boku No Hero Academia.

I’m. So. Excited. To. Talk. About. This.

This is gonna be long, Anon. I hope you’re ready for it. 

Alright. 

Why do I love BakuDeku? 

Or, why do I love the Katsuki/Izuku dynamic in general? 

Such a loaded question for quite a lot of reasons… 

I’ll do my best to articulate my scrambled thoughts and put them all down here and make sense with them. To start off with, when it comes to ships, I usually have to be drawn to both characters individually. I don’t really like the concept of one character feeling “incomplete” without the other, necessarily. 

In this case, I related to Izuku Midoriya almost instantly, and then, surprisingly, found very similar traits in Katsuki Bakugou that I couldn’t ignore or even want to ignore. I respect both characters individually and absolutely adore their dynamic; the creative potential in portraying them both together and apart is so vast and endless that it just spurs the creative mind with no limits.

To explain this better, I tend to theorize and analyze potential relationships in anime/movies/books/television shows based on their clear connection through flaws, personality compatibility, ambitions, strengths and weaknesses. 

I understand that this factor is applicable to every ship in existence, pretty much, but I firmly believe that, since each mind is unique with its own preference, that the actual conclusion one can come to when applying these principles to their chosen ships can yield multiple different results.

So, back to BakuDeku with this. 

Katsuki Bakugou and Izuku Midoriya are foils of each other. 

To clear some questions regarding the usage of the word “foil” here, I’m speaking of the traditional literary term. 

A foil in literature is a character that exhibits qualities that highlight and contrast with another character as means of highlighting the traits of that particular character through their personality, actions, etc. 

Usually this is the case with the rival of the protagonist, and so forth. 

Think Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, for example. They are a very typical example of character foils. 

Alright, so. With this in mind…

I value the complexities in character dynamics and the more introspective basis of relationships above everything else when deciding whether or not I ship two characters. So, the contrast between Izuku and Katsuki’s personalities and ambitions are fascinating to me, and as a result, I fell in love with their dynamic as characters outside of the realm of romantic potential.

I’ll get more into the “romantic potential” part later. But, honestly, that part of the context is only the footnote to what I love about these two.

Katsuki and Izuku, despite their differences, are essentially quite similar in what they wish to achieve as characters in their universe. 

I’ll go through both characters individually with their bullet point contrasts that I can think of at the moment.

Katsuki Bakugou is…

  • He is egotistical, yet insecure. 
  • He is reckless, yet he is methodical. 
  • He’s aggressive, yet he’s meticulous. 
  • He appears like a typical delinquent, but he’s undoubtedly very intelligent. 
  • He’s straightforward and brash, yet standoffish and focused. 
  • He is entitled, yet an extremely hard worker. 
  • He’s presumptuous and self-indulgent, and believes his skills and himself are all he needs.
  • He is, essentially, the most insecure when it comes to Izuku due to their connection and history. His pride is, ultimately, his downfall.

Now, by contrast, we have Izuku.

Izuku Midoriya is…

  • He is selfless, yet insecure. 
  • He is analytical, yet he, too, can be reckless. 
  • He lacks self-preservation, but sees it as a necessary strength, rather than a roadblock. 
  • He is emotional, yet also quite meticulous. 
  • He is an extremely hard worker, yet doesn’t believe he deserves anything worthy of praise. 
  • He believes his achievements are based on luck rather than skill, and that he can only achieve his dreams based on what others have done for him.
  • He is too damaging to his own self-confidence for his own good and far too willing to appraise the ego of characters like Katsuki to allow himself room to appreciate his own accomplishments.

Ah. There are many, many more to choose from than just these. I could go on about that particular listing for hours. But, I won’t.

With this all being said, Izuku is constantly chasing after Katsuki in the beginning. He yearns for his approval, for his attention, because of his intense admiration and fondness of his friend. Katsuki, however, could not care less and bullies Izuku on top of saying honestly the most horrible things.

There is one thing I want to make clear about this particular ship. I understand the concerns with the abusive context and I’m never going to defend Katsuki’s actions towards Izuku because they are, most definitely, extreme. 

It’s tragic, actually, how Izuku is willing to be patient with Katsuki and still consider him to be a valuable person in his life and even a close friend. Which, at this moment, they are not. 

That being said… I find it tragic, but all the more admirable of a character like Izuku to ultimately admit that what Katsuki has said and done is truly horrible (taken in context from both the manga and anime) and that he is willing to acknowledge Katsuki as a “jerk,” but also as someone who is, despite all of that, very talented and driven.

Izuku is, himself, driven and ambitious. His reasonings for becoming a hero and Katsuki wishing to become a hero are on polar opposite ends, yet their drives, their passion, their vigor are so incredibly similar in length that I can hardly see that matched in any way by other character dynamics in this series.

And that’s what I love the most about them in general, romantic context aside.

Now, still, the extremely damaged history is also what makes this ship so incredibly complicated. And I love that about it. 

What I want in this ship is to see growth, forgiveness, change, reluctant acceptance, and understanding between two characters who have always been on the same spectrum, but have never acquired the true level of insight to reach that same wavelength.

Katsuki and Izuku could never have a successful relationship at their current age, under their current circumstances, and without any forgiveness or acceptance taking place. 

The road to trusting and respecting one another is long, torturous, and riddled with pain and learning. It takes time, it takes energy, and by applying the romantic context to these two characters outside of their already marvelous and fascinating (albeit saddening) dynamic, it allows a new perspective to take place.

This, my friend, is a perspective that requires no easy path. 

I love that Izuku has such incredible faith in Katsuki and will always want to protect him or defend him at the drop of a hat. I love that we’re slowly seeing Katsuki’s growing respect and acceptance of Izuku as a person in the series, and the incredibly slow and (dare I say, explosive) build to their potential friendship. I love that we’re able to see the unfolding complexities and hurt and anger and passion that have driven them apart with blinded perspectives on both sides. 

I could go on for hours about this, Anon, but I think I kind of summed up most of what I can in one sitting without this going on for too long. 

I hope this satisfies you for now, Anon! Thank you so much for the ask. :)

Name Games

Pairing: Reader x Jeonghan
Genre: fluff??? friends-to-lovers
Summary: You and Jeonghan use nicknames for each other all the time. But recently, he’s been using one that you makes you feel a certain type of way. 
Word count: 1,971
A/N: This is just nonsense. Also sorry for the terrible title again I think I’m just doomed to shitty titles for the rest of my life

Jeonghan and you were very fond of nicknames. It had very quickly become a staple of your friendship. Light playfulness and excessive teasing just came in the package. There seemed to be a new one every month; sometimes they were witty observations about the other, or they were just dumb. Usually, it was the latter. More often than not, you were the one firing off at him; Fabio, Lucifer, and Sleeping Beauty had been a few of your favourites. Usually, he just called you his fool, or Pabo, or his muffinhead. They were always harmless.

This month, however, he had a new one for you. ‘Babe, can you come over today? I’m lonely.’ That’d be the first time. 'Babe, I’m bored, can we go to the park?’ You’d tried not to think about it too much. 'Babe, can you buy me an ice cream? I left my wallet at home'… 'Ah, babe, that’s not fair!'… 'Thank you, babe!'… You could’ve ignored it, if it didn’t happen so often. You didn’t exactly how why it bothered you so much. It shouldn’t. It was just another nickname. Right? It had started as a joke, after all. A mutual acquaintance had said that the two of you looked good together, and Jeonghan had never stopped teasing you for it. Hence, he’d started using that cursed nickname.It was just a stupid word, but it bothered you so much. That in itself annoyed you more than anything else.

“Jeonghan,” you moaned, snatching your phone off him. “You’re going to clog my camera roll.”
“Yes, but they’re pictures of me,” he drawled. “That’s far better than anything else that you could take a photo of.”
You snorted, swiping through the dozens of identical selfies of Jeonghan. “Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
“Oh, you wound me,” he grasped at his heart dramatically, giving you a pitiful look.
“Oh, shut up,” you laughed, knocking him with your shoulder. “You’ll survive.”
“You should be kinder to me,” he smirked. “I know too much.”
“Well, I guess that’s true,” you chuckled, pressing the ‘bin’ icon on your screen.
“Hey!” Jeonghan whined, trying to grab your phone.  
“They’re all the same!” You laughed, trying to push him away with your free hand.
“No they’re not! They’re all subtly different.”
“Jeonghan.”
“Yes?”
“Do I look like I care?”
“You truly are heartless.”
You smiled, leaning to rest your head on his shoulder. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
“You are on the offensive today,” he teased, wriggling the phone out of your hands. You let him have it. “Come now, let’s take a photo together.” He said, holding your phone up to get his ‘Best Angle’.  
“Why?”
“Because I enjoy indulging my vanity.”
“I don’t.”
“Shh, just take the photo.”
“I don’t look good today.”
“You look pretty, babe, don’t worry about it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. There was that word again. You didn’t have much time to think before smiling for the photo.

Jeonghan looked down at the photo with a smile on his face. “Ah, you’re so cute, babe.”

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anonymous asked:

prompt: they fight. big fight. the biggest fight. gimme angst :D

Wow you sadistic fuck come back when you have happier prompts. Just kidding. I will indulge you. Just not in the way you’re expecting.

What you are about to read is the biggest fight Andrew and Neil have in their entire relationship ever.

Some refer to it as “The Great Kitty Schism.” Others, specifically those who truly had to bear witness to the events, call it “The Cold Cat War Apocalypse.”

  • It began on a Tuesday in Columbia.
  • By this point in time, Andrew and Neil are both signed to the same professional Exy team.
  • For the better part of two years, they have been going between separate apartments, filling the small amounts of spare time they can get with each other.
  • But now it’s finally over. They can finally live together in their own space.
  • The decision to buy a house is easy. It’s learning to live with each other in a big space that’s a bit tricky.
  • Settling in takes the good part of two months but they are finally just beginning to figure it out.
  • That’s when “Cat 1″ enters into their lives.

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Hogwarts AU’s

‌• You Are The Blood by sarcasticfluentry

A seventh-year Hogwarts AU in which Niall gets all the girls, Liam goes on a journey of self-discovery, Zayn falls in love, Harry wants something more, and Louis tries to figure out once and for all why he, a Muggleborn, was sorted into Slytherin. (175k, 16/16)

‌• Follow Me Down This Time by @supernope

Harry first noticed Louis in his second term at Hogwarts, and despite three years of inventing ways to stumble across Louis, he’s never managed to actually work up the courage to speak to him. Also known as, self-indulgent Hogwarts AU, because every fandom needs Hogwarts AUs. (27k, part one of a series)

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cards on the table

He opened the door to find Spot already standing a few paces away, like he was deciding whether to stay or go, already a change from how the other boy usually stalked straight in.

‘Spot.’ He looked him up and down. He was dressed for cold and had a bottle of Jack clutched in his hand. ‘Coming in?’ Spot shook his head, shuffling his feet, glancing at the wall.

‘Nah. Not tonight. Come with me.’

Race eyed him cautiously. ‘You asking me or telling me?’

‘Depends how fast you do it.’ Spot finally looked up at him with agitated eyes. Race nodded and ducked back into his room to grab his keys. He managed a smile when, as he had started to close the bedroom door, Spot quietly spoke up. ‘Don’t forget your jacket.’

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Further Notes On Jon

Because I’m still having ideas.

  • I once read a description of Jon that described him as ‘the most bitter, full-of-himself atheist possible but he’s got a hellfire preacher’s soul’ and…yep, that sums up my version too. A background of pretty thorough religiously-justified abuse coupled with a flair for the dramatic is probably responsible for both.
  • Has never even made an effort to lose the Georgia accent, and will double down on it if people point it out/are in any way dicks about it.
  • Is really very fond of Harley Quinn. Part of this is a mentorly thing - she was one of his students, once, in undergrad, even if it was right in the run-up to his being fired and she’d only just started college - but also they just plain get along. Harley takes people as they are, she doesn’t judge, and she’s a wonderfully warm, fun, uplifting person to spend time with. Jon is…none of these things, but for some reason Harley likes him, and he’s not going to question his own good luck. Well, not out loud, anyway.
  • I am breaking with the tradition of most other Human Disaster Jons in that this version…still has some pretty massive issues around sexuality. Almost all of these can be blamed on Great-Granny Keeny, may she burn in hell, and the fact that Jon’s sexuality got him punished a lot. Add that to his dysphoria issues (he’s had top and bottom surgery since, but he’s still self-conscious about the scars) and really awful body image on account of all the bullying and…yeah, lots of sex-related anxieties and repressions there. He will, however, cheerfully talk about said repression and anxiety because by making other people feel awkward by talking about it, he automatically becomes the dominant party in any given conversation and thus wins.
  • Has got his pet raven Nightmare, and started trying to acclimatise himself to crows while still in college. By the time he was teaching, he’d more or less succeeded and could harness them himself.
  • I think I am going to steal the E24 idea that Jon wanted to start out as a vigilante, but ended up a supervillain…largely because he started by going after a student’s abusive boyfriend and went really, horrifyingly too far. As in ‘locked in the basement and used as a test subject’ too far. I’m sorry, it’s just too good an idea not to use. He does still tend to go after people he thinks deserves it when finding his targets. It’s just that that definition is…maybe a bit broader than most people would agree with.
  • Has suffered from panic attacks, night terrors, insomnia and serious anxiety issues pretty much since before he even got out of Georgia. Everything before he came to Gotham is one seething mass of Do Not Want that he, despite knowing better, just…does not acknowledge. Well, did not acknowledge while he was still teaching/had his life more-or-less together. These days he makes a lot of snarky remarks about it and gets combative when it’s brought up in therapy at Arkham. And he knows enough that it’s difficult to tell a very bleak joke from an informed diagnosis.
  • The first thing he did after his great-grandmother died was cut his hair, put on his great-grandfather’s clothes and burn the chapel/aviary to the ground. It was the most wonderfully freeing feeling in the world.
  • Is a complete thrill-seeking adrenaline-junkie and has been for years, to the point of having indulged in some pretty self-destructive behaviour even before he turned supervillain.
Attention pt. 2

Okeydoke, here’s Part 2 of Attention (part 1 here). The two parts have VASTLY different moods, and you don’t reeeeeeally have to read both parts to understand what’s going on, but… Just in case you wanna, y’know?

Words: 1619

Summary: Roman and Logan discover that they’re friends and decide they would like to be good ones.

Pairing: Logince, platonic but if anyone wants me to write a romantic part 3 I’m willing (I just agree with the sentiment that we should express appreciation for platonic relationships too, so that was a lot of the driving force behind this one). 

Warnings: Both of them get pretty stressed at some point, but I think that’s about it. Oh, and they like to disturb Virgil, but it’s only mentioned.

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Love (In Progress)

A Dean/Cas Fluff-fest fic by @pathsofpassion

January 24

The bed isn’t their bed, but Ellen keeps decent mattresses in her temporary rooms and he wakes comfortably, though no mattress is comfortable enough to make morning a bearable or humane time of day. Castiel blindly gestures at the coffeepot on the small desk, his eyes still squinted shut against the intrusion of daylight.

Obligingly, the coffee pot turns itself on and starts brewing. Being a witch has its perks.

He is not at all surprised that the largest and most beloved of those perks has left him to wake alone; rolling into the warm spot his familiar left in the covers, Castiel snuffles and mumbles incoherently. Undoubtedly Dean pushed for staying at the Roadhouse last night instead of returning to their cozy apartment across town purely for the chance to cadge Ellen into making him breakfast.

The other Roadhouse guests, renters, and temporary lodgers have long since risen by the time Cas drags himself from the bed and, coffee pot in hand, makes his way down to the kitchen.

Ellen is finishing up the last of the breakfast orders, surrounded by flour and biscuits and bacon. He leans in the kitchen doorjamb between the bar and the kitchen and watches, sipping his coffee straight from the carafe. At her feet, a large toffee-colored mutt is bounding around the kitchen floor, feathery tail wagging and fluffy ears relaxed and floppy against his head as he darts in to chomp at a bowl of scraps.

This is not the breakfast Cas anticipated Dean begging off of his near-aunt, but when his familiar is in canine form, leftover hamburger and steak trimmings are the very height of luxury.

“You’re going to spoil him,” he drawls, abandoning the half-empty carafe on a countertop in favor of bending down to snag his hand in the thick ruff at the back of Dean’s neck and drag him away from the bowl.

Ellen shrugs at him from where she is frying the last of the bacon, her wry smile tucking up the edges of her mouth. “It’s his birthday, s’far as I see it, that’s the point.”

The fond roll of his eyes precedes Cas down to crouching on the floor next to Dean, who is happily panting and alternates between lunging fruitlessly back toward the bowl of leftovers and licking Cas’s face.

“There are plans,” he informs Dean firmly, ignoring an excited yip and the tail hitting his side. “Plans made for your enjoyment, specific plans which are time-sensitive and depend upon you having two legs, not four.”

Read on AO3 or

Dean sits, miracle of miracles, and cocks his head at Cas. Mischievous moss-green eyes narrow, and three seconds later, he is facing not a maple-colored lab-retriever mix, but a stately and overly-large golden eagle. Dean launches himself up to perch on Cas’s shoulder, his beak and the talons of one foot raking affectionately through messy hair.

Ellen doesn’t even pretend not to bark out a laugh.

“I wish I could have seen your bird form when you first chose it,” Cas says, carefully rising to his feet. He knows that Dean picked a golden eagle after one too many viewings of Rescuers Down Under as a child. “You must have made an adorable eaglet. Maybe your mother has pictures.”

Unsurprisingly, Dean makes a horrified noise in protest and flaps off of his shoulder in a huff. There is absolutely not room for a fucking eagle to fly in Ellen’s kitchen, but Dean does manage to flutter to the floor without (much) awkwardness or errant clouds of flour. Cas snorts as Dean struts smugly around his feet, the reason for his familiar’s shift finally connecting from his earlier statement. “A form that has two legs and hands, you absolute menace. No feathers. No fur.”

Aw, Caaaaas. Deans voice in his head is all summer grass and sunshine, despite the whining.

He folds his arms, putting on his sternest expression. Today is a surprise, and he is going to spoil Dean whether Dean cooperates or not. The secrecy has been driving Dean crazy, and Cas would be a filthy rotten liar if he said he didn’t enjoy every minute.

At his feet, Dean takes two exaggeratedly-stealthy steps toward the bowl of leftover meat, his talons clicking on the hard tile. Cas merely cocks an eyebrow at him, waiting, and Dean steps again.

“You’re welcome to that breakfast, of course,” he says mildly as Dean hunches over to grasp a shred of meat with his beak. “Though it does mean I’ll have to cancel the pie-tasting at Gabriel’s for brunch.”

The eagle pauses in the midst of tipping his head back to gulp down his scrap, bright eyes peering over at Cas. …Pie?

“Strawberry, apple, rhubarb, pecan, coconut… something with maple.”

Dean drops the remaining shred of meat back into the bowl and takes off running toward the bar and the stairs that lead up to the Roadhouse showers. A couple of awkward, lunging steps in, he shifts from eagle to cat and becomes a lithe streak of ginger dashing away.

It’s… nice, to see Dean switching between forms so easily. To see him excited for his birthday for the first time Cas has known him. He cleans out the bowl of scraps for Ellen while he remembers last year’s January 24th, how Dean had gruffly requested that Cas ignore the day and – cautious with the newness of both their bond and their romantic relationship – he had reluctantly agreed.

It had been the right thing to do at the time. Cas respecting Dean’s wishes even in the face of his own desire to spoil his familiar and boyfriend had gone a long ways toward deepening Dean’s trust and their bond. This year, they’ve made enough progress in their relationship that Dean has cautiously allowed Cas to plan him a nice birthday, which is – meaningful. In ways he can’t yet express.

“As if I wouldn’t include pie on his birthday,” he mutters to Ellen as he sets the dirty bowl into the dishwasher.

She makes a considering sound. “Mary and John’ll be here with the rest of the gang at four to set up for the party. You sure you can keep him out ‘til five?”

Cas tilts his hand from side to side. It wouldn’t be the first time that they’ve had to head home early; with his ultra-sensitive shifter senses, Dean’s tolerance for crowds of strangers only goes so far. But most of the day he’s planned should be in private, intimate spaces where the press of humanity won’t constantly push at Dean. “If we have to change plans, I’ll let you know.”

And if he makes the pair of them later than intended by following Dean up into the shower, well. Dean certainly doesn’t protest.

When Dean – clean and finally human – pushes away from the table at Gabriel’s café, Cas can almost imagine that he can see the man’s stomach protruding with his pastry-related indulgences. He does not have to imagine the satisfaction radiating from his partner; he can feel it across their link, and closes his eyes for a moment to bask contentedly in the knowledge that he has made Dean happy.

His lids lift, and at his side Dean is smirking at him. The expression is a little wry, a little fond; “Dork,” Dean tells him, nudging Cas’s shin with his foot, but his eyes are surrounded by pleased crinkles. Dean reaches a hand out to ruffle at Cas’s hair, nearly identical to how he’d run his talons through it earlier. “What’s up next, sunshine?”

“You will see,” Cas hums, as Meg clears off their table. The pie sampling had really been Gabriel’s present for Dean, an awkward expression of fondness. With Gabriel, it is best not to acknowledge such things. Cas will never understand why his brother and his shifter-familiar get along so well, but he’s learned not to attempt comprehension of their fondly antagonistic relationship.

(They are both quick-witted, funny assholes who share a juvenile sense of humor. This is not difficult to understand; he simply refuses to acknowledge it. Undesirable behavior is best countered with a lack of attention, after all.)

Dragging Dean out of the café before Gabriel can appear and try to guess the rest of Dean’s surprise, Cas winds his fingers with his partner’s and tugs them toward the Impala, black and gleaming where she’s parked on the curb. This morning was Gabriel’s gift, and this evening will be consumed with all of their family and friends, but the rest of the afternoon is just for him and Dean. No one else knows where Cas is planning to take them, nor will they.

“Still not gonna tell me?” Dean’s settled behind the wheel, and Cas grins from his place in the passenger seat.

“Just drive. I’ll tell you where to turn.”

A gesture of Cas’s fingers brings up a floating green arrow in front of the windshield. Cas’s direction-spell leads them by back ways and circular routes, eventually coming into the chosen establishment from the rear so that Dean won’t have the chance to blanch and bolt until he’s out of the car.

They get out; Dean closes the Impala’s door behind him, and his nose wrinkles as he looks over the hood at Cas. His canine form was his first, and even in his human shape those are the heightened senses Dean can access most easily. “I smell water. And frou-frou bath shit. And Gilda.”

He keeps his gaze even, steady on Dean as his familiar’s eyes narrow. Like all skittish, wounded animals, Dean is ever ready to bite first and analyze intent later, but they have been building trust, and he will not falter in providing his heart’s mate with the best care he can.

If Dean truly doesn’t want this, beneath any macho posturing, Castiel does have back-up plans. But. Dean rarely allows his physical self to be cared for, to be pampered and tended and eased. Such things are labeled as frills, feminine, unmanly, un_necessary_. For someone who is so vibrantly present in their own body, so intimately connected to their physical being in any shape, Dean is almost violent in his opposition to actually caring for his corporeal self.

Cas lifts an eyebrow, refusing to be cowed by Dean’s initial grimace, and the subsequent, “You got me a spa day?” is far more neutral than he’d hoped.

“Us. I will be with you the entire time.”

Dean assesses him, and Cas can sense across their connection how manufactured protests bubble up in Dean’s throat and then falter into silence, one by one. Dean makes a considering hum, bottle-green eyes gaining a mellower shade. Inwardly, Cas allows himself a hint of a smile. It is in Dean’s nature to thrash against structure or guidance when it is first provided, just as it is equally in his nature to melt into a firm grip once he realizes it’s beneficial for him. Cas has learned this much, at least, though Dean finds new ways to test their relationship on a near-daily basis.

Though Dean’s gaze is still suspicious, and though across their bond he is still skeptical, he locks Baby behind them and lets Cas take his hand as they walk into the fairy-run day spa. Victories come one small moment at a time.

“Cas, I love you, I love you, I love you.” Two hours later, Dean’s chants are interspersed with moans as Gilda works her (figurative) magic on his feet. Cas’s own pedicure is finished, completed by the able hands of Gilda’s assistant, but Dean’s feet had been in such poor shape that the fairy was spending extra time working them into submission.

“Can you teach me that?” Cas requests, watching Gilda’s strong hands expertly rub at his partner’s feet. She smiles up at him and beckons; Cas rises from his pedicure chair and goes over to crouch down next to where she is sitting.

“This is the motion to start with.” Gilda’s accent is thick; someone unfamiliar with the supernatural would only identify her as foreign, but Cas knows her native tongue is not from this plane of existence. “See?” She starts over with broad motions, working from the top of Dean’s foot to his sole, and then from his heel up to his toes. Cas watches her fingers closely for technique, noting the different movements involved – pulling here, squeezing there.

He tunes out the sounds of pleasure from Dean; otherwise his ears would turn a nice red, given that usually Cas only hears these sounds in their bed. Or, granted, at Gabriel’s café. Or when Dean is eating one of Ellen’s burgers.

“You try.” Gilda smiles at him and shifts off her stool, beckoning Cas to take her place.

There is intimacy here.

Dean goes quiet, watching him from half-lidded eyes as Cas takes his right foot in both his hands. His thumbs start at Dean’s heel, working in opposite directions as he gently coaxed the muscle into relaxing. He moved up into the arch of Dean’s foot, now stroking outward from the center. Cas’s eyes are on Dean’s, not on his hands, as he works; he does not notice when Gilda tactfully withdraws.

His knuckles drum against the instep in soft, rolling strokes, and Dean can no longer keep his eyes open once Castiel’s fingers hit the ball of his foot, his toes. Each inch is given careful attention, each touch soaked in – not skill, perhaps, but. Love. All of the love and affection that Dean usually will only accept sideways, worked into each of his feet.

When he has finished with both, Cas leans forward, pressing a tender kiss to both Dean’s knees where they are exposed by his spa robe. His familiar makes a grabby-hands motion, reaching for Cas; he smiles as he stands, taking Dean’s hands and kissing each knuckle. This earns him a whine, and he chuckles as he bends over to brush a light, chaste kiss to his partner’s mouth.

“Gilda would kill us,” he says, squeezing Dean’s hands a last time before moving back to his own pedicure chair. Dean’s thought-projections of Cas ducking his head or his hands beneath that robe are not at all subtle.

Dean is pouting at him, but not seriously. His cheeks are pink, flushed, but across their bond he does not feel displeased. “No, Charlie and Dot would kill us for upsetting Gilda,” he corrects, stretching in the reclining chair and flexing his feet.

Gilda reappears as if summoned by her name, her hands beckoning them up. They already had the deep-tissue massage, which Dean approved of, and the body scrub and wrap, which Dean loudly disapproved of before sinking into relaxation with distinct murmurs of pleasure.

Their last treatment is a soothing hot stone massage, a procedure so relaxing that Dean actually falls into a contented doze halfway through. Closely as he’s been monitoring his familiar’s emotions and mental state for the past several hours, Cas smiles as he closes his own eyes. He’d refused to show it in the parking lot, but he had been nervous about this particular surprise. Dean’s utter pleasure and contentment with the massages and treatments are… validating. That he has provided something Dean needed, even if Dean wouldn’t admit it.

Castiel’s eyes narrow when Dean backs him up against the car door in the parking lot, but Dean presses their mouths together in a warm, lingering kiss that leaves little doubt as to his appreciation. Cas winds his arms around Dean’s neck, leaning back into the sturdy cold of Baby’s metal and nuzzling their mouths together in soft, small samples of touch.

“Thanks, Cas,” gets breathed out against his temple, and it’s damn cold in Wichita but Dean is a line of welcome heat all up the front of his body. Possibly even better than the physical connection is the psychic one, where Dean is pulsing out gratitude and happiness along their familiar bond.

Castiel smiles, small, and scrapes his fingernails gently at the back of Dean’s neck. “I did well, then.”

He’s answered with a wry snort, and “Y’did good,” accompanied by a crinkle of Dean’s eyes that is more genuine than their teasing. “Y’always do good, Cas. You know you spoil me.” His familiar’s eyes are serious now, if no less warm.

Shaking his head, Cas gives one more fond squeeze of his arms. “I give you what you deserve, and you deserve everything good.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but lightly colors at the implied praise; genuine appreciation is Dean’s deepest weakness, and one Cas exploits with ruthless love.

It is just past five, so they have nicely managed to fill the requisite hours before the party; Cas has one last surprise planned, but it will not be in place for some time yet. He kisses Dean’s nose and mouth, one after the other, before going around to the passenger side of the impala.

Castiel has been selfish, in the daylight hours; he has kept the majority of Dean’s birthday to the two of them. So now, at the Roadhouse party with most of their family and friends, Cas lets himself fade into the background.

He watches as Jo and Ellen tag-team Dean into a rousing defeat at pool; watches as Mary and John embrace their eldest son, comfortable and easy even in their complications. (Mary and John get along far better after the divorce than they ever did during their marriage; they still share a home on the outskirts of Wichita, having followed Ellen and therefore Dean when the Roadhouse relocated).

Charlie, Benny, Ash, and Kevin pull Dean into a rapid-fire game of Munchkin, while Aaron and Gabriel bicker good-naturedly over the proper way to cut the cake. Gordon even came up from the basement room he’s been renting from Ellen, and he may be drinking steadily at the bar but he is present. Lisa couldn’t make the party, but sent her warmest regards in the form of her homemade Oreos – one of Dean’s particular favorites. Bobby is stuck on a hunt in Idaho; he left a set of work gloves wrapped in newspaper for Dean to open.

Really, there is only one glaring gap on the guest list. Stanford is a long ways from Kansas, and Sam’s scholarship doesn’t cover airfare to attend his brother’s birthday party.

The presents are minor, mostly fond and silly, at Dean’s request – well. At Cas’s interpretation of Dean’s quiet discomfort toward being given Too Much or his birthday being a Big Deal. Donnie makes Dean the pinkest Cosmopolitan Cas has ever seen; Mary and John give him a detailing kit for the Impala and a new rope tug to play with in his dog form. Benny and Kevin give Dean a new set of gaming dice and a book of dirty jokes.

The cake has been cut and all the presents distributed to a laughing Dean by the time the doorbell rings. The Roadhouse was closed down for the evening; everyone stops talking and looks toward the entrance.

“I believe that’s for you, Dean.” Cas has to bite his cheeks in order to keep from smiling too hard. He gets a squinty, green-eyed look for his trouble, and then Dean is opening the door and being swamped by a hug from –

Sammy?” chokes out into a shoulder that is now the height of Dean’s head; Sam has grown since summer. The crowd of kith and kin flocks to the door, everyone exclaiming and reaching to claim their own hug from the youngest Winchester. Castiel stays back. It is enough, for now, to watch Dean’s disbelieving joy at being reunited with his brother.

You did this for me, whispers across their bond, awed and reverent. Dean is still half-wrapped around Sam, but his eyes have once again found his witch’s. Cas. Thank you.

He has to fly back Sunday morning, Cas cautions; he cannot help but send a wave of love and happiness across their bond. We wanted to surprise you.

He feels more than hears Dean’s snort of amusement. Believe me, buddy, I’m surprised.

Long hours later, it is only the actual Roadhouse crew left. Cas herds Dean upstairs with kisses and warm insistence; this once, Jo and Ash can finish the clean-up. Cas needs to lay Dean out in their bed and settle next to him, exchanging slow, slow touches of lips. Sam went home with John and Mary, but will be back for breakfast in the morning. Now, this, is just the two of them.

The both of them had too many drinks to drive back to their apartment when Ellen offered a cozy mattress upstairs. Dean will protest the lack of memory-foam in the morning, but he is the reason Castiel is too warm and fuzzy with alcohol to drive.

“Best birthday ever,” Dean slurs in between the grazing of their mouths; Cas draws back to smile at him, thumb tracing gently along Dean’s cheek. “S’rsly, Cas, tha’ was – “ Dean yawns, huge and sleepy. “Aw’some.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Cas kisses Dean’s forehead, soothing him. “Sleep now. Sam will be here early.”

His only response is a contented hum, as the man in his arms wriggles and turns, trying to find a position where he is completely curled up in Cas’s hold. Dean huffs softly, and within seconds Cas is holding a much smaller creature – Dean’s feline form, the ginger tabby. He strokes his hand down Dean’s head and back as the cat settles against his chest, curled up in a comfy, tight little ball. “Good night, Dean,” he murmurs before closing his eyes.

He falls asleep with Dean’s purrs rumbling against his heart; how he ever lived without this man in his life, he will never understand.

for the rest of my days

Summary: In which, yes, Mila does love Otabek. But she loves Yuri so much more. (otabek/yuri, one-sided otabek/mila. word count: 4418)



1. I’ll never forget the first time I saw your face

She doesn’t follow the Men’s Singles as much as the Women’s, to be honest. She only ever watches the competitions whenever her friends are in it - usually Yuri, Georgi and now, Yuuri Katsuki, ever since Viktor started coaching him.

Despite that, she thought she knew everyone competing in the Grand Prix Finals. There was Yuri and Katsuki, of course, and everyone knows who JJ, Christophe and Phichit are. She only knows the name Otabek Altin because Yuri had bragged to her that he is his first friend (that stung a bit to her, but she wasn’t surprised considering this is Yuri), but that’s all she knows about him.

And as he enters the rink, she thinks that she definitely did not know how drop dead gorgeous he is.

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Speaking of Akira from KiraPre, I want to verbalize something that bothers me.

The idea queer couples have to kiss onscreen or explicity say “we are girlfriends/boyfriends now” to be canon. Romantic couples being “canon” is such a nebulous thing, but I think we need to approach it this way: if a guy and a girl did it, would the fandom and writers consider it “canon”?

If so, it should be considered canon when two girls or two guys do it too.

The emphasis on kissing especially makes me uncomfortable bc I’m a lesbian with a girlfriend who isn’t very fond of kissing. I do it, but it’s more ritualistic goodbye hello deal than anything else. I enjoy cuddling. I enjoy dating her, I like cheek kisses and neck kisses and hand kisses, but the idea of having to smash your mouth against another person’s and swap spit is weird to me. The idea of stuffing your tongue down someone elses throat is really gross to me. More power to you if you enjoy it, but I don’t.

So the idea a queer couple isn’t real until we see them kissing in graphic detail is a little hurtful (and this is as someone who bought into it in the past).

And look, I get where it comes from. The homophobic straights will deny to their dying breath a queer ship is canon until they have sex on screen or whatever and we get desperate because of that, because we want so badly to be able to refute them. There’s also the fact the reason kissing doesn’t happen often with queer couples IS because of censors.But we need to stop indulging that. We need to stop holding queer ships to different standards than straight ships just because the homophobes do. We need to acknowledge that it’s not okay queer couples can’t kiss and call that out, but we also need to acknowledge that a relationship doesn’t need kissing to validate it and we shouldn’t cater to homophobes by saying queer couples who don’t kiss aren’t “confirmed”.

When we have girl A very hesistant to tell another girl B she loves her, to the point where it pisses the girl B off enough that she says she’s gonna get married to some guy to spite girl A and girl A has to compete with him.. then the episode culminates with girl a very dramatically declaring she LOVES girl B before using her power of love to break out of a monsters grip and collapse in girl B’s arms as girl B cries in happiness and girl A strokes her face affectionately…THAT SHOULD BE CANON CONFIRMATION. And “I love you” in a clearly romantically-framed context SHOULD BE ENOUGH. If it was a boy and girl there would be no doubt. So we shouldn’t be calling that baiting or empty pandering just because they didn’t kiss. Especially when it’s a kids show and we know censors wouldn’t allow it.

And yes, there’s always a chance with these shows will double back and say “lol just kidding here’s their male love interests they’re just friends”. Fuck, that can even happen if a couple DID kiss or say they were dating. But that doesn’t make the fans foolish if they considered it canon until then, it makes the show a cowardly backtracker. That’s when we call them out and rain down fury and hellfire and all that and call them out for changing their minds or being ridiculous. It’s shame on the writers if they do that, not shame on us. 

Until then though, saying it is just baiting unless they kiss or write an essay on how they love the other person romantically in romantic way is more harmful than helpful to queer people. Straight people don’t have to deal with that, so why are we accepting it? So by all means, be aware of the risk of shows backtracking or being baity, but please stop propping up a very limited expression of queer relationships as the only valid expression just because straight people are sucky.

Malec haven’t had sex yet

and here are all my reasons or guesses why. Warning: long post!

It was never explicitly acknowledged in 2x08 that they have had sex. Just little hints and assumptions by Jace and Izzy, which I think are meant to throw viewers off. In fact, the more I review and think about what’s happened in the past two episodes (2x07 and 2x08) the more I’m convinced the two haven’t been intimate - either because Magnus said no (offscreen, wtf) or it was a botched attempt.

1) The Talk between Magnus and Jace on the rooftop. We never hear either of them say out loud that Malec have indeed had sex, we just see Magnus’ reaction to “taking things to the next level” - and what does that mean to Jace? And to Magnus? It’s not clear, but it seems we’re just supposed to believe that means having sex, and now Alec’s happier because of it. But does Alec seem happier in this episode? (Look at his interactions with everybody in 2x08. He seems more on edge with Maryse, closed off to Izzy and cautious with Magnus, if anything. Alec being happier to Jace could be anything - being out and able to openly have a relationship with a man, perhaps?)

And Magnus’ reaction is also ambiguous. When Magnus says, “he told you”, he doesn’t sound or look like anything we’d expect him to be after having sex with the guy who “unlocked something in [him]”, no matter how the sex turned out. He’s not content, pleased or smug; fond or curious to know what Alec might have told Jace, or even exasperated that Alec would’ve shared something so private with Jace. Instead Magnus seems almost like he’s dreading talking about it at all, and knowing Jace’s reaction to whatever it was that Alec might have said - but then Jace quickly says, no, Alec never told him anything. Magnus assumes Alec told Jace what happened after the fade-to-black. At this point, neither Jace nor the viewer knows for sure what happened at the end of 2x07. So what made Magnus respond like that? Would Magnus Bane really show such furtive dejection if he’d just anticipated the shovel talk from Jace? I’m not convinced.

They start out talking about the nature of Magnus and Alec’s relationship. 

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Ambulon/Fort Max - 1,533 words!

In my endless quest to find Fort Max smut I started browsing through my old folders and found this. I have no idea if I’ve posted it before.. probably have, wouldn’t keep this to myself. Apparently the last time I opened this was November 2014.  


HORRAY OTP, 

They had barely begun and Ambulon’s chest was rising and falling hard, every breath through his nose was accompanied by a grunt. He already felt exhausted and sore, his groin was spread too wide to comfortably accommodate Fortress Maximus’s helm as he broadly lapped and nuzzled between Ambulon’s thighs, stretching Ambulon’s valve until it ached, but he’d been gentle.

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anonymous asked:

hi! i was wondering if you would mind giving some klance fic recs? i love klance but voltron fandom is vaguely terrifying to wade into AND you have really good taste & opinions & write awesome fanfic yourself so i feel like you would know some good ones!! (but obvs feel free to ignore this if you don't want to do it)

Oops this took way longer to make than I thought it would. I think most of the fics I rec will be fics most folks would’ve rec’d already, but here’s a small list! Canon-type stuff up top, AU stuff (what little there is) at the bottom.

Also, I marked fics as complete/incomplete, but most of these are oneshots, or they’re done. There’s only like four incomplete fics on this list.

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It Doesn't Mean Anything

JayTim week day one: Tattoo

(with beautiful art by the lovely @tanekore)

(AO3)

~

“Now, before you say anything, I want to put it on record that it was all Roy’s fault,” Jason mumbles into his coffee, not quite meeting Tim’s stare. The curtains over every window have been pulled back and the late morning light beams into the apartment, highlighting the dark bags under Jason’s eyes and his bare chest. Tim can’t look away from that chest.

“Jason, babe.” Tim leans his elbows hard on the kitchen table, rubs the stubble growing on his chin. “You are the Lord of the Idiots.”

Roy is the Lord of the Idiots. As I just put on record. Pay attention.”

“Roy isn’t the one with the Red Robin symbol tattooed on his chest.”

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Tim Drake: Power Outage

Imagine Mount Justice having a power cut and you and Tim go to fix it but end up getting distracted.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————–>

Though you were clarified as a geek or nerd by some, you preferred the term technical genius. You were in fact apart of Young Justice but instead of spending your time constantly out on the field, you focussed on computers and gadgets for the team simply because you excelled at it - being a former pro hacker was quite the change but these talents came in very handy on a mission and you were able to shut down the most advanced security systems in seconds, much to the appraisal of your team.

Often, they said you were the best at what you do but that wasn’t quite true. Robin was pretty good too as much as you’d hate to admit it, you considered him your rival since you never really spoke to one another at all and therefore had no idea what he was actually like. None the less, you loved technology for the most part and could often be found working on some new tech for the team which they all loved and came to ask about it quite often. Bart would often tell you about the future whilst you worked and Batgirl sought you out more often than not. Fortunately, today was peaceful despite the raging thunderstorm outside and you were fixing the stealth technology to keep yourself occupied. At least until disaster struck.

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title: 5 times they kissed (read on ao3)
pairing: Corvo Attano/The Outsider
summary: When they can take it no more, when all the peaks and valleys of pleasure have been passed for the night, Corvo holds the Outsider close and mouths his lips lazily, gifting him all the kisses he has been deprived of for millennia.

First time they kiss is a thrilling moment.

The Outsider and Corvo stand on a rooftop of the Tower, looking over the city which has fallen to a deep slumber of the night. Only the Outsider’s gaze is concentrated on the view, searching for escape from Corvo’s observation. The young man learns to breath in and out slowly as if savouring the air which he has to get used to. Corvo’s gaze is glued to the man beside him, admiring the sudden humanity touching his face.

He gives him time. Rids him of needless words, twining meaning into their hands held together. But then, overcome with feelings after his longest journey of thousands of years, the Outsider turns to Corvo and allows himself weakness that as a god he couldn’t have, allows himself to be held.

Full of reverence and impatience, Corvo takes the Outsider’s face in a cup of his rough hands which express fondness that surprises even him. He pauses for a second, lets his gaze flick from bright green eyes and down to lips which are open just a little, enough to give a hint of lively redness and warm flesh.

read more undercut or on ao3

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A Knight for a Swan - Chapter 6

Summary: Killian and Emma’s affection for one another grows as they await the return of Lord Jones and the expected summons from the king.

Notes: The entire chapter if from Killian’s POV, with the line break indicating a change of scene.

EDIT: A BIG thank you to @juliakaze for the incredible artwork she made to accompany my fic. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!

Teen and Up rating  / ~6400 word count / remember that if you like ti, you should reblog it, too ;o)

Also available on ao3 and ff.net; previous chapters can be found here:

Ch 1 / Ch 2 / Ch 3 / Ch 4 / Ch 5 


Chapter 6

Killian Jones was a bloody damned fool.

Why he ever thought he could keep his distance from Lady Emma, he’ll never know.

He’d been determined to maintain his resolve when he received her summons. It took him nearly an hour of mental preparation before he trusted his convictions enough to finally make his way to her chambers, as he had already been vacillating with his decision since early that morning when Robin had urged him to seek out her company, hoping it would alleviate the surly temperament he’d unleashed on the men during their training.

He’d prepared himself for her possible ire, or, perhaps, simple bewilderment over his sudden withdrawal. What he hadn’t prepared himself for was the depth of torment his actions had caused her, nor her admission and displayed vulnerability in reaction to his absence. He had meant to minimize her potential heartache with his retraction, only to now realize that, perhaps, his Swan had already began to fall for him, as he had for her.

Unwilling to deny himself the pleasure of her company any longer, and arguing that the damage may well have already been done, Killian vowed, that in case the king did reject his petition, he wouldn’t waste what precious time he and Lady Emma had together. If all that remained of one another after the king’s decree were memories, then he wanted those memories to be filled with affection, not regret.

Though he still had his duties to see to, Killian reserved time each afternoon to escort Lady Emma through the castle. He revelled in all her tales of childhood, and could almost picture her in each setting; the young, golden haired girl, who was adored by her parents, and met no end of trouble from the mischievous influence of a young August, who, apparently, had also been raised in the castle - his father having been the Duke’s Master Craftsman - and was still regarded with fraternal affection by Lady Emma.

Over the course of the week, Killian learned much about his Swan (and the castle) from their strolls through the various galleries and salons, but it was a solitary visit back to one of the galleries the morning after their reconciliation that Killian learned something very valuable.

His Swan had a secret.

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