can you tell love actually is one of my favourite films

The Wedding Night

Ok so @omgkatsudonplease was streaming Pride and Prejudice tonight and lots of Rivals jokes were made as we have established that umfb&mha is actually an accidental Pride and Prejudice AU. And then suddenly we found out that apparently there is an extra scene in the American version that I had never seen before and let me tell you, that Fucked Me Up because I love that film and this new scene kills me. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zg7YhN-I2M0

So what did I do with this new, groundbreaking information? Wrote a Rivals version of this scene of course.

So without further ado may I present to you The Wedding Night scene, otherwise known as my 1am fic rambling and a snippet of what Rivals - Past, Present and Future might be like 



                                       The Wedding Night 


Walking slowly into the room, Viktor finished pulling his shirt off over his head and looked to see where Yuuri was stretched out on the bed before him. Unlike Viktor, Yuuri was still wearing the formal white shirt of the day’s celebrations but his trousers were gone and the shirt was half unbuttoned, giving Viktor a tantalising glimpse of sharp collarbones and smooth, perfect skin. At the sound of his approach, Yuuri turned to face him, eyes softening and face breaking out into a smile as he looked at his once fiancé and now husband.

“Come here,” he murmured and Viktor obeyed, climbing onto the bed to where Yuuri was lying with a slight smirk on his face and arms open invitingly.

“Of course solnyshko,” Viktor breathed, planting a light kiss on Yuuri’s forehead and then laughing a little when Yuuri made a soft noise of protest before reaching down to capture his lips in a much deeper kiss. After a few seconds he pulled away and Yuuri smiled up at him, eyes bright in the darkness of the room.

“You always call me solnyshko,” he teased, running one hand down Viktor’s side and sliding the other up to tangle lightly in his hair. “People might think you’re getting…predictable.”

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Open To Interpretation: Negan x Reader

Originally posted by jdm-negan-mcnaughty

A/N: Ya’ll. I’m so fuckin’ swamped in responsibility. I feel a lil guilty about coming back with something non-Rami but fuck it. Some other things I wanna say: Send me anything. Send me asks. I wanna answer you guys’ questions. Be nosy as hell. Also, I have something you might be interested in coming up after my birthday which is in like 2 weeks. Please feel free to request more Negan stuff, I’m branching out bitches.

Masterlist 

Warnings: Inappropriate teacher/student relationship (student is of legal age in the US and UK), smut, the usual. Also, I wrote the character a little more like myself bc I feel like I keep writing the same kind of reader and its getting tedious. Hit my inbox if this is you af. ALSO HIT MY INBOX IF YOU’VE EVER HAD ANY KIND OF TEACHER/STUDENT RELATIONSHIP? SPILL THE TEA I’M NOSY.

Word count: 4448  


“Preserving innocent life, orderly living in society, worshipping god, educating children, and reproducing.” His deep, gravelly voice fills the lecture hall. All his students are enraptured, a rare thing for many teachers. He pauses before continuing. “What are the issues with these precepts that Aquinas put forward?”

You bite your lip anxiously. Answering questions in class isn’t an issue for you, in fact your teachers often tell you to give the other students a chance, but your Philosophy and Ethics professor makes you somewhat nervous. Tall, late forties, gorgeous black beard with silver streaks and piercing hazel eyes. The recipe for a crippling medley of anxiety and attraction.

Despite this, impressing him and getting your grade is often the reason you manage to pluck up the courage to respond to his queries, his opinion of you is something you are very conscious of. You glance around the room to see no one has raised their hand. You decide to take one for the team, slowly lifting your arm from the desk.

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mamma bakkoush and even though.

  • every time she sees him, she can’t help commenting on how tall he’s getting. you’ve grown again, even, you’re head’s going to touch the ceiling soon!
  • she doesn’t have favourites - really, she doesn’t; she loves all her son’s friends - but she always gives even an extra spoonful of food, winking at him as she does it, and even just smiles fondly at her and tucks in
  • sometimes, even will detach himself from elias and the boys and go to the kitchen, to help mamma bakkoush with the cooking. they would talk and talk and talk, about nothing and everything, and she teaches him all these little tricks, like how adding a splash of sour cream makes your eggs taste better
  • occasionally, she’ll find even awake at ridiculous times at night. 3am, 4am. she’ll be downstairs getting a drink, and she finds him, sat at the table or in the living room, restless, wide awake. “can’t sleep?” she’ll ask quietly, and even will look at her and shake his head. and so she makes them both a hot chocolate, and settles on the sofa with him. she’ll watch a film with him and listen as even tells her about the camera angles and directional choices and, ok, she’s really, really tired, but she takes comfort in knowing even isn’t awake alone
  • another evening, she finds him downstairs reading one of their qur’ans. when he sees her, he shuts it quickly and apologises, standing up awkwardly, and she just sits next to him and asks what he was doing, voice kind and quiet and gentle. “i was just interested, that’s all, i’m sorry,” he says. but mamma bakkoush tells him there’s nothing to apologise for, nothing at all. and she proceeds to tell him to read it if he wants to, and to let her know if he has any questions, or wants to talk about it with someone. and the little sparkle he gets in his eyes when she says it, and the smile that won’t really go away, makes her so so happy. 
  • but soon, everyone can’t help noticing that even isn’t…isn’t well. mamma bakkoush notices this. even’s mother notices this; has phoned about it in tears. he won’t get help. can’t see anything different about his behaviour. and mamma bakkoush tries to talk to elias about it, but he doesn’t want to believe it. says it’s just even, mamma, this is what he’s like
  • there’s a night though, where even shows up at their house unexpectedly and asks for elias. but elias is out, so he ends up talking to mamma bakkoush. and he tells her he just needed to get away. he doesn’t say it, but she knows his parents have been pushing him to see doctors recently. she knows he’s been refusing, that he’s found being at home….it’s a lot for him. she knows it’s tiring and terrifying and she can just see the exhaustion radiating off him. 
    • she rings even’s parents to let them know he’s safe and with her, and then she makes some hot chocolate and settles in the living room with him. even is quiet and subdued and just…not there, really. at all. but then even asks her if she can read something - anything - from the qur’an to him. his voice is quiet and husky and so, so soft, but almost desperate, too. desperate and somewhere between hopeless and hopeful
    • mamma bakkoush smiles and nods, reading a passage that she hopes will calm him. and sure enough, she’s barely been reading for five minutes before even stops fighting sleep and lets it wash over him, snoring softly, and she smiles and takes the hot chocolate away, popping a blanket over him to keep him warm
    • she’s about to go upstairs when she hears his voice again. he’s barely conscious - still asleep, really, but he says, “mrs. bakkoush?”
    • and she turns to him and yes, his eyes are closed, he really is just sleep talking, but she says, “yes, even?’ anyway
    • and then he opens his eyes. tired, heavy, teary. and he says, voice barely above a whisper and so, so vulnerable;  “can you pray for me?”
    • mamma bakkoush simply smiles, walking over to him and crouching so their eyes meet. she places a hand over his, pushing his hair away for his eyes and smiling quietly at him before saying, “my darling, i pray for you every day”
    • even falls asleep again after that, and it’s the first time in a while, mamma bakkoush thinks, that he’s actually slept through the night
  • then, one day, even stops coming over. the boys no longer talk to him. and she knows he isn’t her son, and that teenagers are teenagers and friendships can come and go, but she can’t help this ache in her chest. she just misses him. and she tries to encourage elias to patch things up between them, but it doesn’t work. eventually, they don’t talk about him much anymore, but it doesn’t stop her thinking about him, praying for him, hoping he’s ok
  • and oh, when even comes back. he looks terrified, like he’s anticipating the worst, all wide eyed and chewed lips, and she knows even, knows he will have worried about not being wanted here, worried that she’d hate him for what happened between him and elias. she knows all this, which is why, when she sees him, she smiles wide, arms open, and says, “come here.” and she pulls him into a hug, squeezing him tightly, then she pulls away and cups his cheeks, making their eyes meet as she says, “i’m so happy to have you back, even.” and she says it with such force, such sincerity, such meaning, that even really can’t do anything but believe her.
Hoseok

BOYFRIEND BANGTAN | HOSEOK VERSION 

WORD COUNT: 1,534

FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF with the lightest most PG mention of sex

Originally posted by syubto

masterlist | ask

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EVAK FANFICTION RECS / PART 10

Halla! So, as time comes and goes, I’m here with another masterpost of some of my favorite Evak fanfics for you guys. As you can see, I’m trying to be a bit more creative and make these posts look at least somewhat more appealing, so I hope you like this little header I made (even though I suck at Photoshop).

As always, the list is divided into oneshots and chaptered fics.
My personal favorites are tagged with a “ ★ ”.
Completed chaptered fics are tagged with a “ ✓ ”

Without further ado, all the fanfics can be found under the cut. Enjoy!

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skam-fest (balloon squad livestream): TRANSLATION, part 2

part 1 here :)

Q: Kosegruppa dk wonders: What is it like to work together with Iman?

Cengiz: *Repeats the question* I can put it like this: we were a lot alike. We laugh all the time, mess around like hell, and were not afraid to touch each other, there doesn’t need to be limits to touching, but that we know. She’s a very good lady, or girl. And really fun to work with, and easy to get to know, and so am I, so we clicked pretty fast, and thats what was important to me, who was completely new this season and was supposed to take on that role and had never done acting before and I knew already from the beginning that I was supposed to kiss Josefine and I was really stressed about that. And i spoke with her (Iman) about how I should do all that and she helped me through all of it and it was her getting sad right so… That was really strange. I was thinking okay so now I’m in the acting world, and it’s actually just like this. It’s fake, all of it, you play it real. There was a time where my girlfriend came to me and said “this is really sad to say Cengiz, but I got really jealous when I watched you in that one scene, and you have to be allowed to do it but I think it’s kinda sad, but you have to hear that you (act like you’re really) in love and it’s really good. Because all the fans believe in it.” But it wasn’t easy either. It was harder playing emotional scenes with Iman than playing the kissing scene, actually, because it’s about looking this person in the eyes, and it’s Iman and you’re like what the fuck am I looking at, you know! It’s been like ten minute staring contests without  laughing, but its that moment when you started to laugh it became sweet, you know.  Julie just gets it, she knows what to do, like, so it wasn’t so hard to play it either. Because Julie got it, she pressed, she played us really, tricked Iman and me into playing a romantic scene in a fun way so it became romantic on screen. It was fun then and there, my god. But it is really easy to act with her, at least, she’s really talented and really positive all the time, all the time yes. I’ve never seen her mad or anything. Yeah, really fun all the time. The whole team. Thank you to the whole team for being there for me and supporting me, I was totally lost, like I’m kissing Josefine, fuck, and the first time I met her I just (was like) “hi.” And in my mind I was like “I’m kissing you later” like in front of camera. Not before or after, it’s so strange you don’t get to try before either, because then it’s wrong because it’s private, but in front of the camera it’s not private and then you can do it, that’s like, I think it was weird, but everyone on the team helped me a lot with it, so that I really appreciate.

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Anatomy 101 - Anthony Ramos x Reader

Summary: Anthony is an art student who needs someone to model nude. He chooses the reader, who happens to have an unadvisable, annoying crush on the sunshine-y boy. 

Warnings: Swearing!

Word Count: 2,966

A/N: It is officially the first day of the Write-A-Thon! I may have stayed up until 12 just for this, oops. But I’m super excited because I love Anthony Ramos and I love this AU and there is just a LOT of love to give, okay??

askbox | masterlist


Really, when it came down to it, Anthony Ramos had asked you to be naked for him three times in total.

Let’s get some context in here.

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Old Friends [j.j]

Originally posted by alinok

Title: Old Friends
Fandom: Riverdale
Characters: Jughead Jones x reader, Archie Andrews, mentions of Betty Cooper, mentions of Veronica Lodge, mentions of Jason Blossom
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2,237
Requested: Yes, by anonymous.
Short Description: After an argument regarding all the time Jughead spends on his writing, you want nothing more than to go to your ex-best friend Archie for advice.
A/N: Thanks for your request! I’m glad you enjoy my other story and hope that you like this one too x

Disclaimer: not my gif

[Y/N] = your first name
[Y/L/N] = your last name
[Y/F/M] = your favourite movie

The first time that Jughead brought his laptop to your Pop’s date, you didn’t object. Jughead was, in his own way, an artist. He had a visible impulse to create, which you could undoubtedly understand. So when the both of you ordered your food, you were okay with Jughead typing away on his laptop, humming in agreement every few minutes as you talked. It was evident that he wasn’t paying attention; that he was enticed by his own thoughts as he attempted to put them to paper. And that was tolerable.

But it had been a few weeks since Jason Blossom went missing at Sweetwater River on July 4th, and Jughead had yet to spend some real time with you. Everywhere he went, that laptop was beside him and he whipped it out whenever he could sit down.

“Hey Jug,” you instigated as you were both sitting in the projection booth of the Twilight Drive-In. It was your one year anniversary with Jughead and you had resolved that you were equipped to tell him that you were in love with him. Of course, it was somewhat noticeable to anybody who knew you that you were completely smitten with Jughead. But the both of you were still young and so saying those three words could theoretically alarm Jughead. So, you had picked out your loveliest dress and styled your hair in neat, loose waves for the special occasion, letting Betty and Veronica help you with your choices, and put your big girl attitude on. You could do this. But your confidence had completely wavered when you arrived at the drive-in, only to see Jughead already on that laptop of his. “Why don’t you pick another movie if you don’t like this one?” you suggested, as he had devoted the entire time writing instead of watching Y/F/M with you.

Jughead neglected to glance up from his screen as he replied. “No, this is fine.” You frowned at how nonchalant he was being. He clearly didn’t care at all that the occasion seemed special to you.

 “Fine,” you echoed inaudibly to yourself. “I’m glad that it’s… fine.” Of course, Jughead neglected to hear you mumbling to yourself so he just hummed in agreement before going back to typing, eyes narrowed at the laptop in front of him.

So, you sought to converge on the movie. Y/F/M was a film that could continually put you in a good mood, but it seemed that its charm had worn off, as your enthusiastic mood was reduced to ashes. You glanced down at the bucket of popcorn that had been utterly untouched between you and Jughead, hoping that it might interest you now, but the buttery goodness still didn’t feel very appetising. “Jughead, we really don’t have to watch a movie.” You tried, feeling terribly secluded despite how romantic and intimate the setting was. Your boyfriend said nothing, so you shifted your body to face him and placed your hand on his shoulder. 

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Yoongi

BOYFRIEND BANGTAN | YOONGI VERSION

WORD COUNT: 1,210

FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF with the lightest most PG mention of sex

Originally posted by sugasuite

masterlist | ask

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Surprises

Originally posted by diltons

A/N: Second time posting my writing, I had the idea at work and i wanted to write something so here we are. If you want to request anything for me to write, please do, i have nothing else to do. 

Part 2 / Part 3

Summary: Usually Jughead hates surprises, but you’re hoping this one might be different.

Word Count: 1,710

Warnings: none, you are safe 

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Matty’s Interview with The Sunday Times Style

I wish I had a teenage daughter. Why? Because here I am with Matt Healy, the frontman of the 1975, who has just offered to take his shirt off in order to give me a tattoo tour. There’s the one dedicated to his nana; his mum, Denise “Loose Women” Welch, is on his foot; his dad, Tim “Auf Wiedersehen, Pet” Healy, is on his arm; and his brother, Louis, on the back of a calf; there’s the one dedicated to William Burroughs, the author of his favourite ever book, Queer; then there’s the one on the inside of his left wrist… of his passport number. “I got bored of being constantly woken up by a woman offering me a landing card while my tour manager, who always carries my passport, is conked out somewhere behind me. I thought it would be useful. It’s really all I need on a plane.

Welcome to the world of the 1975, whose second album, I Like It When You Sleep, for You Are So Beautiful yet So Unaware of It (yes, really), went straight to No 1 in both America and the UK last year, and who won the best band award at the Brits in February. They have just announced that their third album, Music for Cars, will be out next year, and when we meet they are about to go on tour, kicking off in Mexico and ending in July at Latitude Festival in Suffolk, where they will headline alongside Fleet Foxes and Mumford & Sons. If you’re not familiar with their music — think Pete Doherty mixed with One Direction, maybe — it’s probably because, like me, you’re too old. That said, Mick Jagger, whom the band supported when the Stones played Hyde Park in 2013, is a huge fan — so fond of their hit single Chocolate, he has been known to put it on after dinner for guests.

Yeah, I remember that gig,” says the 28-year-old Healy, with a faint Northern accent. “It was before I had my eyes lasered and I wasn’t wearing my glasses. Pointless. There were 50,000 people there and I could only see about four of them, but out of the corner of my eye I could just make out this gyrating figure and it was Jagger dancing to Chocolate. Mick Jagger — can you f****** believe it?

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Operation Happy Jeff™ - Jeff Atkins x Reader

Request - “Can I request an angsty/cute Jeff x Reader where he’s having a relly really crappy day and nothing seems to cheer him up so they do all these cute things to make him feel better. Can you also add the promt “There’s that smile” to it?”

A/N: Beware the grumpy Jeff. Sulky and adorable.

The room was so dimly lit that you were struggling to see. In fact, it took you a good few minutes to make out Jeff’s cocooned figure in the corner. You sighed. You knew something was up. He’d been acting strange over text and refused to let you call him when you asked. So, you did what any good friend would do and risked a speeding ticket driving over to his place as soon as you could. You did what any best friend helplessly in love would do.

The first step in what you were now calling; ‘Operation Happy Jeff™’, was to get some sunlight in. Jeff still hadn’t acknowledged your presence, but you swaggered over to the windows and violently pulled the curtains nevertheless.

“Ow fuck!” He squinted. “Y/N, what the fuck are you doing here?” He remained curled in the corner shielding his eyes.

“I’m taking you to Disney-world.” You crossed your arms earnestly.

“Fuck off are you taking me to Disney-world.”

“Well, no. You know my monthly income wouldn’t even cover a day trip for one person, but that’s not the point! It’s metaphorical. The point is that by the end of the day you are going to be so ecstatic that you’ll feel like you’re in Disney-world.”

“I don’t think that’s-”

“Come on! Get up!” You yanked up the complaining Jeff and coaxed him downstairs.

“Your piece of shit car couldn’t get us to Disney-world anyway.” He muttered under his breath. You hit him round the head.

“Talk shit about Herman again and i’ll leave.” You crossed your arms, watching as he sat at the kitchen counter. Despite his protests, he didn’t really want his best friend to leave, he was grateful when you’d turned up.

“I’m not going to make you talk to me about it until you’re ready.” Your tone had softened now. Step two of  ‘Operation Happy Jeff™’  was now ready to be set in motion. Wildlife Watching.

—–

“No. No?” He protested after you’d told him the plan.

“Why not. It’s a great way to relax and the sun will release your endorphins.” You stomped out into Jeff’s garden, him dragging his heels behind you.

He rolled his eyes. “But it’s so boring!”

“That’s what a boring person would say.”

“We’re not going to see anything from my garden anyway.”

Half an hour later, you’d seen a few birds, and a worm- but Jeff was still not impressed. ‘Did you know the brown stuff in their bodies is their poop?’ he’d said with disgust. Time for Step Three you guessed.

—–

“How is giving you a piggy back meant to make me feel better again?” Jeff grumbled, walking you around his coffee table.

“You’re helping others!”

“But you can walk.”

“GALLOP TRUSTY STEED!”

“No way-”

“GALLOP.” You pulled at his t shirt slightly as though it were reins.

He gritted his teeth and galloped lacklustredly round the table, warranting a loud cackle from you.

He put you down and turned to you. “You’re just making me feel like an idiot.”

“My favourite idiot.” You placed a hand on his cheek and wobbled it slightly. He rolled his eyes again.

“Look, Y/N, it’s pointless. You might as well give up now.” He threw your hand off of him.

“I’m not giving up on you Jeff.” Your eyes bore into his, more serious now.

“I wish you wouldn’t say crap like that.” He slumped on to the couch.

“Why? You know how much I care about you and how I hate seeing you like this?”

He shook his head, trying to prevent himself from saying something stupid. Sensing his discomfort, you flopped down on the couch next to him. Step Four.

“Guess it’s time to watch Mulan then.”

Mulan was Jeff’s favourite, he could never not sing along, and the funny bits sent him into fits of laughter. Not this time, though. You were growing more and more concerned the more stuff you tried that would usually cheer him straight up. Nothing was working. You stopped the film halfway through, it was useless.

‘Operation Happy Jeff™’  Step Five really had to pull it out of the bag. Making Cookies.

—–

“Now, is the butter at room temperature?” You asked, mindlessly playing with the whisk.

“Uh, I don’t have a temperature stick thing…you know the…”

“Thermometer? You don’t need one, silly.” You chuckled. “Just tell me if it looks kind of soft.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jeff shrugged, handing you the tub of butter. He didn’t seem much happier, but he’d definitely put his focus into baking these cookies.

“Measure 125g on the scales.”

He scrunched his face up watching the numbers on the scales, causing your heart to lurch and uncontrollably smile. He was too cute.

“Okay.” He nodded, handing you the bowl. You poured the butter into the sugar.

“Hold the whisk at the top here.” You pointed to the spot above your own hand. “We’re whisking this bitch together.”

You thought you may have caught him in a small smile, but it was so fleeting you weren’t sure.

The whisk buzzed on and you and Jeff moved your hands together in circles, making sure the butter and sugar were creamed. Jeff was so close you could smell him, in all his minty-vanilla glory, and his big hand overlapped yours slightly. You added the eggs and vanilla with your spare hand, and continued to swirl the mixture. Jeff readjusted his grip, brushing your hand slightly.

“That’s done.” You stated, realising that had been a bad idea. “I’ll measure the flour, you can do the chocolate chips.”

He nodded, moving to the other counter to do the chocolate chips.

You poured the flour into the bowl. “Jeff?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to whisk it while i grease the trays?”

“Uh, yeah.” He nodded again.

It all happened pretty quick. The whisk was on full blast and you’d forgotten to tell Jeff to fold the flour in first, and he ended up spraying flour all over the room. All over himself. All over you.

“Oh my god!” You squealed, laughing. Jeff looked shell-shocked. You lobbed the lump of butter in your hand at him, hitting him in the nose.

“Fuck off.” He growled, wiping the butter from his face and lobbing it back at you. Your mouth fell open as the cool substance hit your neck. You shook your head in disbelief, immersing your hand in the bag of flour before running toward him and coating him in another handful. He blew through his mouth, creating a flour cloud, which hit you in the face. And, seeing you coated in flour and grinning at him, his mouth twisted up into a gorgeous beam, his teeth standing out white even against the flour.

“There’s that smile.” You bit through a grin. He looked down at you warmly.

“You did it, you cracked me.” You were so close that his voice was soft and quiet, but still audible. “It should be illegal for you to look so cute covered in flour.”

You scoffed. “I can’t believe Mulan didn’t work but throwing flour at me did.”

“It wasn’t just the flour, really. It was the whole day. I know I complained but I can’t believe you really did all this for me.” He shrugged.

“You know I would do anything for you, Jeff.” You urged.

“That’s part of the problem.” He backed away and leaned against the kitchen counter, wiping his hand down his face. The smile had gone.

“What? I’m sorry I’m… confused.”

“Well part of the reason I’ve been in such a funk today was that for some reason my baseball game was completely off, I really could not play. Realising why was the other reason.” He sighed.

“Why?” You edged closer to him.

“It’s been ever since I saw you and Zach yesterday, I can’t get it out of my head.” Admitted Jeff.

“What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t stand the thought of my best mate with the girl I love.”

You froze. What? What? Were you hearing this correctly?

“Fuck.” He muttered, kicking the counter.

“Jeff I really don’t-”

“I’m gonna regret this.” He inhaled, swiftly moving over to you and cupping your face in his hands. Dry, floury lips were pressed to yours in an instant, shocking you. It took a few beats to register that this was actually Jeff, and press your hands against his warm chest. His heartbeat was fast against your hands, and his own hands warming your cheeks. The way flour met your tongue was kind of gross, but you couldn’t care in the slightest. His right hand moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him. His mouth opened hungrily providing room for your tongue, but instead you bit down on his bottom lip sensually.

He breathed what resembled fuck, and you smiled into his mouth.

“I concur.” You whispered, breaking off and resting your forehead against his. Both of you were breathing roughly and heavily, holding on to the other for stability.

“I guess this is better than Disney-world.”

—–

The morning found Jeff’s arm slung over you, and the success of ‘Operation Happy Jeff™’ .

Do you guys remember the dream that Chris had about Layne? It just totally breaks my heart 😢

Posted on 10/13/2008
The essence of a dream can follow you all day long. Sometimes two or three days. I have had dreams as a little kid that I remember like they were yesterday, though as time goes on these dream are sometimes hard to tell from actual events as they survive in my memory.
I am fascinated with the essence factor of dreams, period. They are as real as the essence felt from the ambience of an actual place, like a house you grew up in. Your favourite bar, or your school. The first Christmas tree you see every year, the smell of it, and especially songs. Some feelings these environments evoke are awful, some magical. All of them completely real.
Real enough that numerous cultures throughout history have believed that the dream world is every bit as important and substantial and a vital part of human life as the conscious state. Some mysticisms actually look at the world of dreams as being the “true and only world” and everything else an illusion. For my money, if you put an ice pick through your hand, I think it will prove to be a pretty fucking good illusion.
Last night I had a dream that has been following me all day like a sick dog. I was in a hotel near the house I grew up in. I was in a cafe that happened to be the lunch court of my elementary school. Various friends from my past were walking up and talking to me. In the middle of this scene walks Layne Staley. He looked much like he did the first time I met him. Shoulder length hair, clean shaved. Clear eyed and looking about 20 years old. I was so happy. Confused a little, but in a dream like this, I just wanted to accept the idea that there was some mistake and he was alive and well. He seemed happy and said was working on some new music project.
I woke up not long after that with the feeling that I had really just talked to him and he was somewhere doing just fine.
My next thought was one that has plagued me for years. Sitting in Kelly Curtis’ living room with about 30 people, all sobbing. We had just come from Andy Wood’s extra weird funeral-wake thing at the Paramount Theatre. It had these new age overtones that didn’t fit Andy’s life at all. There was an amazing film of Andy with Mother Love Bone band mates. All of Andy’s friends and family were there, mixed with a bunch of fans who I didn’t like but knew Andy would have loved. The fans went home. His friends went to Kelly’s.
We were crammed in a smallish living room with people sitting on every available surface. Couch arms, end tables, the floor. I was leaning on the back of one of the couches that face away from the rest of the room and toward the front door. I remember Andy’s girlfriend looking at everyone and saying “This is just like La Bamba” then suddenly I heard slapping footsteps growing louder and louder as they reached the front door and Layne flew in, completely breaking down and crying so deeply that he looked truly frightened and lost. Very child like. He looked up at everyone at once and I had this sudden urge to run over and grab him and give him a big hug and tell him everything was going to be OK. Kelly has always had a way of making everyone feel like everything will turn out great. That the world isn’t ending. That’s why we were at his place. I wanted to be that person for Layne, maybe just because he needed it so bad. I wasn’t. I didn’t get up in front of the room and offer that and I still regret it. No one else did either. I don’t know why.
Years later, at Layne’s funeral, I was angry. I kept hearing the “twice as bright, half as long” speech and the “he was just too special for this world” nonsense that I had heard at so many other funerals for so many other friends that were so young and talented. I’m not sure why I was that angry. Angry at Layne? Angry at all my other friends for leaving me? Angry at the people running around in circles saying “I knew him best” or “I was the only one he really trusted”, angry at all of them for squandering what I thought of as brilliant futures that would make the world feel to me like a place worth living? Or maybe I was just mad at myself because he was dead, and one time I had a chance to pick him up, dust him off and let him know that there was a person who cared about how much pain he was in and I didn’t do it.
If I ever run into him in a dream again, I hope I remember to apologise.
Night all. Sweet dreams.
C

Mercy

Reader x Stiles Stilinski

(NOT MY GIF)

Imagine: being in love with Stiles for ages but he never notices, until one day, after a run away from a party, he tells you how he feels about you and things get heated.

Warnings: SMUTTY (oh yeah) SIN, oral sex (female receiving), dirty talk, swearing and sex. Little bits of fluff.

Word Count: 3336

A dose of neat whiskey lied half empty in front of me as I tapped carelessly at the wooden table, observing the crowd dancing in front of me like there was no tomorrow. This whole thing was so not me! I had no idea why I let Lydia convince me it was going to be good to leave my beloved bed and the Star Wars marathon I was about to start to go to a party.

Oh, damn, who was I trying to fool? I knew why I had come. My dear best friend used the two magic words that could get me anywhere she wanted: Stiles Stilinski. Martin had said he would be there, meaning there was no slight hesitation on the loud yes I gave as a response.

Although it was embarrassing to admit, the pale, clumsy boy had been my crush, and one of my best friends, ever since we met, a few years back. It was not actually my fault that he had mesmerising honey brown eyes that seemed capable of burning my entire soul to the ground. Or that his weird personality matched mine somehow. However, despite my tiring attempts, Stiles just could not see how much I wanted to be more than his friend. Ultimately, that made me despise the feelings I had inside, hiding them away.

“Y/N?” A deep, masculine voice snapped me out of the trance I was in. Then, right after it, Stiles’ hand brushed my left shoulder, which made me look back, partially scared, partially confused. Seeing my sudden messy state, he gave me a cheeky smile and I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t.” I shrugged, looking away from him as I finally gulped down the rest of my drink. It was my very subtle way to disguise the nervousness he caused on me. “What are you doing here, Stiles?”

“Uh, you had this awful boredom on your eyes and I thought I might be your saviour tonight.” His warm laugh made my heart skip a beat. Fuck. Definitely not a fair game, Stilinski. “Are you going to keep staring or are you going to say something? Because it’s kind of creepy. Not that I mind, though, I’m into creepy stuff, so-”

“For God’s sake, can’t you shut up?” The brown haired boy gazed at me in disbelief, his eyes wide whilst his bottom lip puckered up and formed an adorable pout. I was not able to hold the genuine smile that slipped at such sight. “That’s much better.”

“I was just trying to be helpful!”

“Okay, if you really, really, want to help me, then I guess you could give me a ride home? I’m done with this party.”

“Tell you what, I have a better idea.”

“I don’t trust your ideas, Stiles.” He scrunched his brows together, earning a soft chuckle from me. “They always lead straight to trouble.”

“I’m truly hurt by your lack of trust in me.” Both of us shared a giggle. “Come. Let me take you to my favourite place.”

“Can’t say I’m not scared.”

“Don’t be such a wuss, Y/N/N.” Stilinski muttered while I went back to my feet, feeling more ready than ever to leave that sweaty, filled with inconvenient people, room. “I promise you there won’t be any regrets.”

“I’m betting on it.”

Without any further words, he grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers, and dragged me out of that dreadful celebration. While running to escape, we bumped into a whole bunch of people who were making out at the dance floor, which got us several angry yells. Not that we cared, though.

Outside, the night seemed to be outstandingly beautiful. A shy, pale moon cut through the greyish clouds, shining dots scattered across the sky, the tall trees swung lightly to the cold breeze, crickets cricked happily… Simply the perfect scenario for the ending of a romantic film.

“Don’t you love this?” The question crawled out of my lips as I contemplated the complexity standing before me. “I mean… It’s so astonishing! So beautiful!”

“You are so cheesy!” Stiles joked, squeezing my hand, that still lied on his tepid one, and giving me a playful wink. “But I have to admit, it is indeed a gorgeous view.”

We stayed there for a minute, maybe two, just enjoying each other’s presence and the landscape. Our entire friendship was based on these moments, where he and I could just shut up and feel comfortable in the silence. It’s those times you just know you found someone special.

Clamping my bottom lip between my teeth, I dared to direct my eyesight to him, catching his blissful state. The eyes I loved so much seemed to be lost in thoughts, whilst his mouth hung open, somewhat curled into a smirk. I knew that face very well: his mind was working on something. A mischief.

“Oh no, Stiles.”

“What?” Now the naughty smile was wide on his face. That man could not disguise anything even if he wanted to. “Come on, we’ve stayed here for too long already. I want to show you something.”

That said, he walked towards his old blue jeep. Considering I moved in a much slower pace than him, Stiles got there before me and calmly leant against the passenger’s door, waiting patiently. Man, is it weird that I found it incredibly sexy? Because I did. All I wanted to do was rip his clothes off and hump his brains out against that bloody car of his until we both had lost our voices.

“Where are we going?” I quizzed, a while later, glancing over the window. The cold wind stung my cheeks, which should be, by now, red as a pair of tomatoes. “If you’re taking me to the woods, forget it. I want to go home.”

“Chill.” Stilinski laughed, his right hand landing sneaky on my thigh. “I sensed you needed a romantic date, so I’m taking you to a special place.”

“A date? Are you insane?” Stifling a chuckle, I pierced my eyes on him, investigating if this was some sort of joke. “And since when do you do romantic dates?”

“OK, this was Lydia’s idea.” He exhaled, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. “She said you were sad because some guy had blown you off.”

“She did?”

“Yep.” Nodding, Stiles glanced at you, his irises carrying a hint of anger. “I was stunned when she told me. I mean, how could a guy do that? It’s you, for fuck’s sake.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly a big deal, Stiles.”

“What are you talking about? You are beautiful! No sane guy would be able to resist you.”

“Really?” My chest was suddenly heavy with hope for what was to come. “So, in that subject, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you one of those guys? The ones who wouldn’t be able to resist me?”

“Yes.” The brown haired boy stated, fiercely, stopping the car and locking his gaze on me, eating me alive with it. “Even I wouldn’t be able to fight against you. Especially me, actually.”

In a second, he shortened the space between us, crashing his soft pink lips on mine in a loving kiss without thinking twice. And if I were to be honest, I did not want him to.

Moving carefully through the solid rocks, we found a spot that permitted us to observe the entire city, a remarkable sight. Stiles was not wrong when he said it was going to be a memorable night; the place was completely perfect, so was the declaration Stilinski performed earlier. 

I sat down, my legs bouncing back and forth, and watched him take a seat by my side, a goofy grin etched to his face. Surely I had the same one enlightening my traits, for I still could not bring myself to believe he had actually confessed to have feelings for me. Shoot, I would never forget this moment. Not ever.

“This is what you call a romantic date, Stiles? Bringing me to an old, dead end place?”

“Come on, Y/N, you have to admit it is unique! And lovely as well.”

“I’m just kidding.” The younger Stilinski snaked an arm around my shoulders, pulling me towards his chest, which I did happily. “This is wonderful. Just what I needed.”

“You should have told me sooner.” He whispered, a little later, stroking my hair smoothly.

“That I liked you? Yeah, I know. I should’ve, but I was so scared I was going to lose your friendship…”

“Listen to me: there’s no chance in hell you’re going to lose me. I’m the one who might not handle such a powerful woman like yourself.”

“My ego is skyrocketing right now.” A soft giggle fell from my lips as he squeezed me even tighter. It felt good to feel his skin’s warmth on mine. “I’m still surprised, though. I never saw this coming.”

“You didn’t? Come on! The signs were all over the place.”

“I was always with Lydia, so I thought it was because of her. Not me.”

Stiles, out the blue, pushed me away from him. Afterwards, he swiftly grasped my chin, raising it so we could look at each other properly. I was not going to deny: I did not stand a chance against the sinful brown that was staring at me soaked in tenderness. It broke down my every defense, leaving me completely vulnerable to him. However, there was no need for hiding any more: our feelings were a hundred percent mutual.

“Lydia was a huge part of my life, that’s true, but everything changed when I met you, this Y/E/C eyed beauty who came out nowhere and won me over.”

“Damn.” I muttered, wetting my lips as they curved into a shy grin. “I don’t know what to say, really.”

“Why don’t you just kiss me?” Stilinski had a naughty beam enlightening his traits once he placed both of his hands on each side of my neck, bringing us closer together. “The whisky taste on your mouth was incredibly delicious earlier.”

“That’s such a cheesy line!”

“Oh yeah?” Hesitantly chewing my bottom lip, I confirmed what I had said and his eyes darkened. “I’m going to show you who’s cheesy.”

“What?”

Not bothering to reply, Stiles abruptly picked me up, put me on his shoulder and took me back to where he had parked his car. Once there, I was placed on the car hood, my legs wide so he could stand in between them. His mint scented breath fanned over my face, making me gasp, curling my toes. It was a mix of sensations I had barely experimented before.

“Ever since I met you” Stiles’ murmured hoarsely close to my ear. His digits slided down my belly until they reached the waist of my trousers, popping the button open, which provoked a surprised pant to escape from me. “I’ve been imagining what would you taste like. I bet you’re sweet.”

I groaned, blindingly trying to grasp any inch of his body and pull him to me. He chuckled at my attempts, pinning my hands up against the cold metal while stealing a quick peck. Thereafter warning me to stay still, Stilinski went back to my pants, getting them off alongside my panties in one pull.

“Look at that!” His fingers slithered through my inner thigh, dangerously near to my core. “Such a nice pussy you have.”

“S-Stiles.”

“Yes?” He hummed, now bent over me. It was hard to concentrate with fucking Stiles Stilinski’s face only inches away from the centre of my legs. Urgh, I wanted him to dive in on me once and for all so badly. “So wet, gorgeous.”

With those words floating in the air, a thumb glided across my entrance, earning a mellow moan from me due to the intimate contact. I never would have imagined that Stiles was this huge teaser, but there he was, licking his fingers clean from my arousal. Glueing my thighs together, I tried to create friction in order for me to ease the ache on my core.

“Easy, kitten. I don’t want us to rush things.”

“Are you trying to torture me?” I blurted out and, probably as way to punish me, he savoured a patch of bare skin awfully close to where I wanted his God damned mouth to be. “Because that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

“Fine.” Exhaling loudly, the boy shrugged and agreed. “If you want it so desperately, I guess I can give you a treat.”

“I do want it!”

Giggling, Stiles clutched my hips, bringing them towards his face and finally consumed the act, skilfully swirling his tongue on my throbbing clit, gaining a surprised heave. As the man worked his magic, I could not help the series of girlish groans that broke the established silence. Yet, he appeared to be enjoying them, for I could literally feel the smile against my slit as he pounded in and out of me.

A tension started to form on my lower stomach, making me gasp desperately. Without thinking straight, I gave my breasts, which were still covered by the black shirt I was wearing, rough squeezes, increasing considerably the blissful sensation. Everything was pushing me towards an intoxicating release. However, forbidding me to archive it, the boy simply stopped moving and I whined, thwarted.

“Why?”

“You see, gorgeous, I want you to cum around my cock, not my tongue.”

“Shit.” I cursed, gazing at him whilst wetting my lips; he grunted at the sight and I smirked, satisfied. “What are you waiting for?”

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so beautiful! So delicious. I wish I would have done this sooner.”

“It’s lovely. It really is, but I need your precious dick buried deep in my pussy.” Upon hearing my request, Stiles choked on his breath. “Uh, did I make the big bad teaser nervous?”

“Not at all, beautiful.”

“Then come on, do it already!”

Sighing, he pushed down his khakis, allowing me to finally see how excited he was. His length was hard underneath his black briefs, which got my mouth watering to have a taste. Although, by the looks of it, I would not have that chance. Not now at least. Ultimately, my beloved friend got rid of the last clothe piece keeping us from giving into the desire we both had within. A second later, Stilinski yanked my ankles, bringing my bottom half towards him, causing my back to fall on the cold hood. This sent jitters across my whole form.

“Beg.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want you to beg for it, my dear.”

“Haven’t I begged enough, Stiles?”

“No.” A smug grin ghosted on his face and I grunted, sexually frustrated. To have my orgasm denied was a plainly awful feeling, because it made me crave his touch even more. “I decide when you have done it enough.”

“Pretty please? Urgh, I don’t know. Just fuck me. Hard. The kind of way it will leave me unable to walk for days.”  

“Is it what you want?” He stirred, sucking a purple mark on my YSC neck.

“Yes, I do. Make me yours!”

“And that’s what I wanted to hear.”

Incapable of holding it back any further minute, he pushed his shaft inside of me and we groaned together at the raw contact. It was even more pleasurable than I had imagined; Stiles completed me. Fulfilled me. He was the very thing I lacked this entire time.

Considering the boy did not move, I had to take the first step, so I buckled my hips forwards, trying to get his attention and create a slight movement. In reality, moving was not that hard, taking into account that my pussy was slick from my arousal. The fidgety Stilinski grunted, pinning me down and starting to pound in a quick stride.

I wounded my legs around his waist, deepening the penetration and eliciting a mix of throaty moans. Never interrupting his bruising pace, his hands started to wander throughout my frame, stopping at my covered breasts and giving them a gentle clasp. At last, he, all of a sudden, ripped open my shirt, the small buttons flying everywhere, and revealed the pink mesh bra I had on. Albeit the destruction of my favourite top should have made me mad, the only effect it had was to leave me even honier.

Stiles tittered, lowering the pink piece and pinching your left peak, which, by the time, was already turgid. The pleasure was so fervent, I reached a point that I was not be sure if this was a blossom of my dreams or indeed reality; nevertheless, I did not care.

I guided my fervorous digits to my throbbing clit, swiftly uniting the unbelievable high tempo to the circling of figure eights on my bundle of nerves. Things started to get blurry as my body began to shake. It was getting harder and harder to control the spasms.

“F-fuck, babe.” I slurred, my voice hoarse and shaky. “I’m almost there.”

“Cum to me, gorgeous. I wanna’ see you come undone because of me.”

His raspy voice, alongside a deep thrust, had done it for me, urging me straight to an overwhelming orgasm. My toes curled while I arched my back, crying out his name over and over, the blissful sensation invading me in constant waves. I could not control the shaking nor the noises, the climax had won me over and all I could do was enjoy it.

“Such a nice little girl.” The brown haired Stilinski murmured, pulling my fingers into his mouth and sucking on them whilst he banged my brains out, not even offering me a chance to recover from my high. I yelled at the overstimulation and he smiled, circling the tiny bundle of nerves in between my legs. “Cum one more time for me?”

“S-Stiles, oh my God, please! I-It’s, shit, I’m going to…”

The man kept his wet hand working on me as he pulled out, breaking down and spilling his warm seed all across my belly and breasts. Despite the fact he was still grunting heavily from his ambrosial frenzy, he managed to get me off one last time. However, the second peak brought with it a pleasant surprise: a transparent liquid flow out of me, dripping frenetically down my thighs, dirtying him, his car… Everything close to me!

“Fuck, Y/N/N, did you just… Squirt?”

“I think I did.” My response fell from my lips breathlessly. “Shit.”

“Who’s cheesy now, huh? I made you fucking squirt!”

“Shut up! This has never happened before to me.”

“I’m glad I was your first, then.” Stiles laughed while helping me to stand up on my feet again, even though it was completely useless: my legs seemed to have turned into jelly. “Want me to pick you up?”

“I’d be happy if you did.”

In the meantime the honey brown eyed man collected my limp body, carefully placing me inside the car on the passenger’s seat, a phone rang at its fullest, startling both of us. He picked it up and I used the time to clean myself, using the shreds of my long lost shirt.

“Uh, yes, she’s with me. Alright, we’re on our way. Five minutes, tops. OK, bye.”

“Let me guess: Scott? Pack trouble related?”

“Yeah, he apparently discovered some clue on who the benefactor is, so…”

“I know, we have to go.”

“Tonight was wonderful, Y/N. I want you to know that.”

“It was for me too, Stiles. Luckily for us, we can have plenty of those.”

“I hope so.”

“I promise you so.”

With a goofy grin plastered on his face, Stiles ignited his car, ready to drive us back to reality. I could not help but think that, no matter what happened from now on, we would still have each other and, for me, that was more than enough.

The Secret (e)

prologue; part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight; part nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve; part thirteen; epilogue.


[a/n: if you click on the lyrics, the song will play]


The credits rolled on the second Disney movie of the evening, signalling the bedtime of Baekhyun’s own little princess.

“I think that was my favourite,” Baekhyun exclaimed enthusiastically, stretching out his arms and legs before hugging his daughter against his side. In truth, all the princess films he had been made to watch since finding out he had a daughter were starting to blur together into handsome princes, catchy singing and good triumphing over evil. However, the Disney torture was bearable because of the smile it put on Zoe’s face.

Like the one she was beaming at him right now.

“Really Daddy?” she asked brightly, turning on the spot to face him properly and curl up like a little puppy.

Baekhyun ran his delicate fingers down her rosy cheek, smoothing her hair back off her face. “Definitely in the top ten,” he replied, beaming down at her with an ecstatic smile.

Zoe looked down at her hands, nibbling on her bottom lip like she was nervous about something. Like she had something to say.

Keep reading

The more I think about it, the more I think the main thing that ‘went wrong’ with Andromeda is that it plays everything so safe. I still like the game, but that is the one overarching issue that stopped me from enjoying it as much as I wanted to.

This is a new galaxy; they could have done anything, but it all feels so utterly familiar.

The story starts at the wrong point in the time line

The biggest mistake they made, story wise, was making us come into the galaxy at the point that we did. I will never for the life of me understand why they took a game that was going to be about exploration and how ‘we’re the aliens now’ and not let us be the first humans to arrive in Andromeda.

Just start the game at that point. Before the uprising, before the outposts, before the Nexus is half-built. Have us truly be the first humans the Angara meet. Have us struggle to understand each other, and slowly win their trust, only to lose it when the Uprising happens and they see a darker side to humans.

How devastating would it be to have worked to gain their trust, gain Jaal’s trust, and then see it all get swept away by events out of our control?


This way we also get more chances to bond to Alec, as he’ll be around for longer than 2 minutes. Think about establishing those first outposts on Eos with Alec, only to see them fail disastrously with us, the pathfinder team, carrying that guilt with them.

This also means we’ll see the Nexus fail, see Garson murdered (not entirely clear on the timeline for that tbh). And eventually we will have to see characters we know turn against us during the Uprising itself!

And if they have to get rid of the dad, he could die during the Uprising (adding a personal touch to having to deal with the Exiles), or hell, maybe he joins them. 


As it is now, it just feels like we missed a large part of interesting narrative in Andromeda. We’re made pathfinder in 2 seconds and succeed from the word go. There are obstacles to getting the outposts up and running, but no real struggle. Another consequence of setting the story 18 months (I think it’s 18) from when the first people arrived is that it robs us of being the first.

(I’m also not entirely clear on why the Nexus had to be there first, because it can’t function without Outposts, they need a pathfinder to find outposts, but the arc’s had the pathfinders and they were meant to arrive later on? Also, no one on the Hyperion says they arrived too late, but on the Nexus they say they thought everyone was dead, which seems to indicate they were waiting for longer than they thought they had to? I might be missing something here.)

Planets are not inviting to explore

As it stands, it just adds more familiarity into a game that already suffers from taking too few risks.

Everything from the planets to the wild life to who we encounter feels so safe. Storybeats are repeated from the original trilogy, enemies as well. On four of the planets we already see a lot of milky way equipment/ milky way species. And even Kandara Port (though I like the design), which was built by the Angara feels like it wouldn’t be out of place in me2.

All the planets are a bit of a let down when it comes to how not-alien they feel, excepting Havarl and arguably habitat 7, they don’t feel that alien. And the frustrating thing is, this isn’t filmed on location, they’re not constrained by planet Earth; they could have gone all out. 

Besides not feeling alien the planets also feel so… dead. I know there is a bit of an in game reason for this, but 1. they created the reason 2. I don’t think that’s the reason.

Every planet gets one or two pieces of plant life, looking only slightly alien from what we see on earth. The rest is desert, snow desert, almost barren ground. Throw in a lot of rocks. And 4 different animals, all just reskins of that same set from other planets. (Even those acidic lakes are things we can find right here.) And why do we still not have a weather or day/ night cycle? It’s one thing if you just work with smaller hubs, but bragging about your huge maps and then have them be utterly static seems a bit weird.

We also only get one alien city. One, and it’s tiny. At least it feels more like a city than Val Royeaux, but not by much. I do like Aya’s design though. We do see some smaller camps? settlements? of the Angara, but if they were such a presence in the cluster until 80 years back when the Kett arrived, where are the ruins to their civilization? The abandoned cities of the Angara?

The Jardaan certainly piqued my interest, but what do we really see of them? The vaults, that one giant starship, not-Meridian, and Meridian itself, which is one of the few places that was inviting to explore so of course we couldn’t. Did they just not leave any other marks on the planets except those things and the ‘points of interest’ (that are not interesting)?

All we really have to interrupt these huge boring maps, clearly designed to only rush through with your Nomad, is some random fights (the same two variations I think) and ‘points of interest’, except there’s never anything of interest except some remnant to kill and a container? After a while I just gave up checking them out tbh, so please point out any great ones you found.

There are of course a lot of sidequests thrown in, some of them I found pretty fun and a huge improvement on da:i, but they don’t invite you to explore. The planet itself isn’t worth exploring so when doing a sidequest you just rush to the point you have to get. In other games, games that do this concept well, you set your quest and then while going there get distracted by things you find out in the world. Here that happened maybe a few times, and usually it was because I came across a point for another quest and someone hailed me. It was never because I saw something that piqued my interest and I went over there and it had something fun to do.

A lack of new species, and disappointing returning aliens

They never showed a lot of the milky way species and the ones we did see lacked diversity. The just picked one head morph - or two in the case of Turians where the females have different facial structure - and slapped on some paint. I expect more not less from a newer game. The Asari were the most jarring - to the point I avoided Kerri because she has Lexi’s face and it’s just ridiculous. But the Salarians have just as little diversity. Google salarians in mass effect and you’ll see they did so much more with them in the original trilogy. And I have to say, there were too many Turians with white faces,  a few of them important characters as well, I still mix up Kandros and Avitus.

And what do we get in exchange for all the species we don’t see return and the diversity that’s gone? One new species. One. I love the Angara, but I can’t help but be disappointed that we travel to a new galaxy only to discover one new race. Unless we count throw away enemy the collectors .2 the Kett. But really, they only brought back 4 of the original trilogy’s races and still didn’t have enough resources to add some diversity to Andromeda? Really? We just get the Angara…

Finally…

I would just have scrapped the giant maps, and gone for smaller but denser packed ones, like Havarl and Habitat 7. Add much more plant life and animal life and real diversity in those two, to all the planets. And make them more alien.

Have no more than one desert planet, I vote Elaaden as it was the best desert, and stick more sunken ruins in it that have actual things to discover about the Jardaan. And make that the only planet so huge that you absolutely have to use the Nomad.

Make Kadara much smaller, with much more lakes so it looks more like a deadly lake planet.

If we have to have a snow planet, make it more original than a white reskin of a desert planet. Maybe we have to drive in giant ice caves, maybe we don’t even get to walk on the surface, maybe the Angara have buried themselves underground in ruins of a old Jardaan city.

And this is just sticking to the planets in game, but they should just have scrapped all of them except Havarl and gone much more alien than they have.

I still like the game, I just think there was a lot of potential there they never bothered to explore. All in all it just feels like they played it safe. Maybe that’s a reaction to the backlash after me3′s endings, but I think it’s where they failed the game the most, and for me it leaves the game in ‘if only’ limbo.
Softly, My Love

Or; a relationship told through its softest moments; from firsts to lasts and everything in between.

For Enjoltaire week 2017, day #3: soft.


Their first date is what can only be described as soft. 

They meet for dinner inside of a small Thai cafe, and Grantaire’s heart does somersaults all the way through his meal. Enjolras keeps smiling at him, warmly, tentatively, and Grantaire feels himself blushing every time. 

They hold hands on the walk home; what started off as Enjolras’ fingertips lightly grazing Grantaire’s wrist gradually evolved until their hands were linked, fingers intertwined. Enjolras swings their hands lightly as they walk in tandem and Grantaire thinks his jaw is going to break from all the smiling he’s been doing. 

There’s no kissing before Enjolras walks up  the steps to his apartment and waves a small goodbye to Grantaire; instead they hug loosely for a few moments, promising to have dinner again sometime. Enjolras breaks contact with a smile and Grantaire lets himself wonder how he ever got so lucky as to have that smile bestowed upon him.


It’s snowing, the first time they kiss. 

Grantaire remembers it vividly, because Enjolras was wearing that scarf that he got last Christmas- the red, white, and blue one that Courfeyrac bought him as a joke, yet Enjolras treasures with every fibre of his being. 

He’s also wearing mittens, like, honest to God, actual red fluffy mittens that tickle the sides of Grantaire’s face when Enjolras cups it between his palms. 

“I’d really like to kiss you.” Enjolras says, tracing the outline of Grantaire’s lips with one mitten-clad thumb. “Your lips look very kissable right now.”

“It’s probably the cold.” Grantaire says, stupidly, because Enjolras just asked to kiss him and sure, they’ve gone on a few dates at this point, but still.

Enjolras smiles, his eyes creasing around the edges. “Probably.” he agrees, moving one hand down to Grantaire’s neck. “Can I?”

Grantaire can’t find the words to express just how much Enjolras can, so instead he nods, feeling the ghost of Enjolras’ lips upon his almost as soon as he moves his head. 

Enjolras’ lips are soft, which is unsurprising. His kisses are short, fleeting things, a warm mouth pressing against Grantaire’s for the barest of seconds before pulling away again. Grantaire brings his own hand up to Enjolras’ face, coaxes his lips into staying a little longer, makes the kisses slower, more languid. 

It’s almost perfect, and Enjolras smiles when their lips part, eyes still closed, as if he’s taking time to immortalise the memory behind his eyelids. 

Grantaire’s never felt happier.


Perhaps Grantaire’s favourite fact that he’s learnt about Enjolras is the way he kisses. Or, more specifically, the way he reacts to being kissed. 

Lying side by side after a busy evening of studying together and watching cat videos on YouTube, Grantaire leans over to press a single kiss to Enjolras’ temple, letting his lips linger against Enjolras’ skin a moment longer than necessary. 

As expected, Enjolras’ eyelids flutter closed. Grantaire smiles warmly. They re-open as Grantaire pulls away, tracing his movement through dark lashes. 

“You’re cute, you know that?” Grantaire asks quietly.

Enjolras scrunches up his nose, which, as Grantaire said, cute.

“You’re doing nothing to disprove my point there, Enj.”

Enjolras simply gives him an affectionate roll of the eyes before leaning in closer to Grantaire’s side. “You’re cuter.” he mumbles into the fabric of Grantaire’s sweatshirt. 

Grantaire kisses his forehead again.


Sometimes love is a big thing; a grand gesture or large announcement, the penultimate confession scene in a movie or dramatic chase for the protagonist to follow their heart.

Othertimes, it’s a smaller entity; late night conversations or shared feelings, the soft touches of natural intimacy or the simple comfort of another tangible being. 

The first time Enjolras tells Grantaire that he loves him, they’re on the couch in Grantaire’s apartment, watching the best of the best cheesy rom-com films Netflix has to offer. 

The credits are rolling, but instead of getting up, Enjolras and Grantaire stay cocooned on the couch, too content to move. 

Grantaire is debating whether it would be a good idea to turn the autoplay on, when Enjolras laces their fingers together. 

“Hey,” he says quietly. “I love you.”

Grantaire’s heart does a funny dive within his chest and he smiles before he’s even processed the full meaning of Enjolras’ words. Enjolras is staring at him intently, as if he’s trying to convey the extent of his love through his eyes alone. It’s almost enough to make Grantaire teary-eyed.

“I love you too.” Grantaire says back, even quieter, delighting in the way Enjolras seems to practically glow with the newfound knowledge. 

He smiles, and Enjolras smiles back, like they’ve just shared some sort of secret. 


“Soft.” Grantaire mumbles, running his fingers through Enjolras’ hair gently. Enjolras makes a small sound and buries himself further into the duvet. He’s never been a morning person and Grantaire chuckles to himself at all the memories he has of trying to coax a sleepy Enjolras into wakefulness with coffee and kisses.

“C’mon, sleepyhead, time to wake up. Bright and early.” Grantaire says, despite the fact that it’s eight ‘o clock on a Sunday.

“You wake up.” retorts Enjolras- not his best work, but Grantaire supposes he can be forgiven on account of how his brain still has a little longer to go before it’s functioning properly.

“I am awake, love.”

Enjolras grumbles, but maneuvers himself so that he’s half-laying across Grantaire’s chest, giving Grantaire better access to his curls. Enjolras sighs as Grantaire strokes his hair out of his face, one hand curled up against his hip and the other splayed out against Grantaire’s shoulder. Grantaire smiles as he brings Enjolras’ hand to his mouth to lay a kiss against his knuckles. “Coffee?” Grantaire asks quietly.

“God, yes. Please.” 

Grantaire hums. “Alright. Be right back.” 

Enjolras’ hand wraps around Grantaire’s wrist as he makes a sound of protest. “Stay.” he semi-whines. 

Grantaire laughs. “Enj, if you want the coffee I have to go and fetch it.”

“Stay,” Enjolras repeats, tugging Grantaire back down to lay with him. “I’d rather have you. Coffee later, cuddling now.”

Grantaire is only too happy to oblige.


Grantaire is systematically working the tension out of his boyfriend’s shoulders and upper back, cherishing the little contented hums Enjolras makes whenever he rubs a particular spot. 

“You’re always so tense.” Grantaire mutters, leaning down to press kisses against Enjolras’ shoulders.

“Mmmm, I wonder why.” mumbles back Enjolras, though the corners of his mouth are turned up ever so slightly.

They both know why; it’s a combination of stress, wearing a binder for eight hours a day, and the weight of a messenger bag that somehow always ends up heavier than it started off. (Grantaire has tried to convince Enjolras to stop making so many trips to the library to no avail; Enjolras devours books almost as quickly as Combeferre- which is saying something, given the man’s infamous reputation for reading the entirety of War and Peace in two nights.)

Grantaire’s glad he can be of help- even if it is only in this small way. It’s easily intimate, being with Enjolras like this, and Grantaire’s beyond grateful that it’s normal for them to share moments like this together- a few years ago he wouldn’t have believed it to be possible. 

Enjolras hums as Grantaire rubs his shoulders, and then Grantaire’s hands are being gently swatted away as Enjolras moves to sit up, a contented smile sitting on his face. “Thank you.” he says, trailing light fingers down Grantaire’s jawline before moving to bring their mouths together. The kiss is slow and languid and Grantaire smiles onto Enjolras’ lips, feeling Enjolras do the same. 

“Mmmmmm,” Enjolras murmurs as they break apart, “Your turn now, c’mon, roll over.”

“Enj, you don’t have to-”

“Oh, hush you; you know I do, now roll over.”

“Bossy.” Grantaire chides, yet obliging all the same. It’s practically routine by now, anyway- no matter how much he protests, Enjolras will always insist on returning the favour, probably in the interests of equality or something similar. (It’s not like Grantaire’s complaining; Enjolras gives quite satisfactory backrubs.)

“Enj?” 

“Mhmm?”

“I love you.”

Grantaire doesn’t need to turn around to know that Enjolras is smiling when he replies, “I love you too.”


They get married on a Wednesday. Everything is hectic and everybody is stressing out and Grantaire almost works himself into a panic attack which he hasn’t done since he was eighteen, thank you very much.

Despite this, the ceremony is wonderful. There’s laughter and smiles and Grantaire feels so spectacularly happy he could shout it from the top of the Eiffel Tower and still the grin would not be swept off his face.

Now it’s late, and Enjolras stands in the doorway to their room, shirt untucked and tie hanging haphazardly around his neck. Grantaire doesn’t think he’s ever looked more beautiful.

“Come here, you.” he says, patting the side of the bed next to him. Enjolras huffs and rolls his eyes, although he’s clearly just as giddy as Grantaire.

“Yes, husband.” Enjolras replies dutifully, grinning as he walks over. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Enjolras immediately pulls Grantaire in for a kiss. It’s soft and delicate and so, so lovely that Grantaire has to break away for smiling too much.

“Husband.” Grantaire says, fitting his mouth around the word. “I’m going to enjoy getting used to that.”

Enjolras beams at him.

Milkshake | A Valentine’s Day One Shot

I know it’s a day early but here we have one in which Harry fucks up because I hate Valentine’s Day and we don’t need any extra sappy-ness, ok? It’s hard enough being permanently single without having a special day to rub it in my face.

“Date night Tuesday, yeah? For Valentine’s Day?” Harry says as you lie your head on his chest. There’s a show on the telly at the end of the bed but neither of you are really paying attention, more interested in the whispered conversation you’re having. He’s been home for a while but soon he’ll be gone again and you wish you could keep him by your side like this forever so he could never leave. But Gucci clothes don’t buy themselves, do they? Oh but yes they do, you reason, when they’re sent to him for free.

“Gotta be seen to be wearing ‘em, makes everyone money,” he justifies with a small giggle.

“Yeah but I still don’t understand why they give the free stuff to the very people who can afford to pay for it? This is how rich people stay rich, you know? They don’t have to buy anything for themselves. I read that Lady GaGa got given a £10k place to stay for the Super Bowl for free by Air BnB, I mean, what the fuck?”

“Are you saying you don’t like the dress YSL sent you?”

“That is completely beside the point, Harry. Entirely. I can’t afford it, you can.”

“Oh, of course, sorry, I forgot you can’t afford anything with your multi-millionaire fiancé,” he rolls his eyes.

“Nope. What’s yours is yours until you get that ring on my finger,” you tease.

“Still think we should skip the big wedding and jus’ go t’ Vegas.”

“Your mother would kill us both,” you laugh. “And why Vegas, of all places? Could go anywhere in the world on our own and you choose Vegas?”

“When we’re in LA sometime…quick flight to Vegas, married an hour later, done.”

“Gosh, remember when I thought you were romantic?”

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Obsessed // KJ Apa

18 and 33 with kj please xx

[“You’re jealous over my celebrity crush?” + “I want you. Only you”]

Warnings: None

Word Count: 606

Characters: KJ Apa, Scott Patterson (mentioned)

A/N: Hello, my lovelies! So, I still have a few requests to go through. I try and do the one’s from the bottom of my inbox, but sometimes, I read a request, and I do get inspiration to write that specific one, but here you are. I still have a few prompt requests to do, so they will be coming along soon. X

—- —-

You and KJ were both sat up in his bed, a bowl of homemade mac and cheese in front of you both and Netflix playing on the TV. KJ had come home for a few days to see you and spend time with you before he went to see his family and then fly back out to start filming season 2 of Riverdale. So you had about five days to cram in as much time together as you could, so here you both were, sitting together and watching Gilmore Girls.

Gilmore Girls had been a favourite of yours when you grew up, and you did indeed have your liking to once specific male character, but you wanted KJ to experience the adventure of watching this specific show (which he loved, but wouldn’t actually admit it to anyone) and that’s what your next conversation came up to.

“You like him?” KJ looked at you, eyebrows furrowed as he ate another mouthful of the pasta, chewing and swallowing slowly as he tried to comprehend why you liked such an ‘old’ character. “You were how old when you first watched this show?”

“I was 15. Mum had it recorded on tapes and I decided to watch it. And he isn’t old. It’s just like how some of the fans of Riverdale love Skeet or Luke!” You argued, putting the bowl of pasta on the bedside table and pausing the show, turning slightly to look at him. “Are you… You’re jealous over my celebrity crush?” You raised an eyebrow, seeing KJ bite his lip, getting off the bed and taking his empty cup, starting to walk towards the kitchen. “You’re jealous of Scott Patterson! Oh my gosh!” You giggled, following him into the kitchen and opening the fridge, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and placing it on the counter, pouring yourself and KJ a drink.

“I’m not jealous! I’m just… not too fond of your loving towards other males.” KJ sulked, grabbing the glass you had just refilled for him and sipped from it. You put the bottle of orange juice back in the fridge and turning to look at the brunette in front of you. You smiled slightly, flicking one of your braids back over your shoulder and shaking your head. “You’re cute.” You nodded, taking a sip from the glass and placing the counter.

“KJ, my darling boyfriend. I would just like to tell you this now, and you can record it if you wish to keep it for future reference, but I love you. And I’m not sure what that means to you, but it means that I want you. Only you.” You looked up at KJ, who was now grinning. He had put his glass down next to yours and brought you into a hug, his arms wrapped around your shoulders. He gently kissed your forehead, lips lingering for a few seconds, until you placed your hands on his cheeks, bringing him down for a gentle kiss.

“Wanna know something? Every time you let your beard grow out, I like to think you’re Scott Patterson.” You giggle, looking up to see his face scrunch up. KJ took a deep breath and started to mumble something. “I can’t hear you.” You trailed your fingers up and down his chest, looking up at him.

“I said,” KJ started, looking down at you, a small smirk on his face. “I said that sometimes I question my love for you.” He leant down, leaving a small kiss on your lips.

“Wanna go back to watching Gilmore Girls?”

“Only if you’re not going to obsess over the old guy again.”

12x11 Episode Review - What a Ride That Was!

Having just completed my second watch of this episode I have to say I am slightly stunned. I guess the best way to put it is ‘not what I expected’. But then what did I really expect? I was expecting pain, heartbreak, drama, interspersed with some humour and a big “no homo” scene to counteract last episode. I was expecting some dudebro Dean to appease certain types of viewer, along with a nice helping of deep subtext into Dean analysis for us to eat up that would go straight over that type of viewers head. I was certainly not expecting… Larry.

I haven’t looked at tumblr yet, except to glance at my askbox. I assume that you are all suitably going mad over Larry. Over the implications of Larry. Over the sheer insanity of the episodes biggest innuendo fuelled moments and probably laughing about it. I expect a hundred gifsets. I want to reblog those gifsets. I am also sure that Larry has already been meta’d to death… But what’s the harm in a little more meta to add to the massive pile gonna do? Because I wanna meta the FUCK out of Larry.

But there is a lot more to this episode than just Larry. We did get heartbreak. We did get drama and we did get some really nice character moments. Rowena particularly was amazing this episode (who am I kidding though she is always amazing) and I loved learning more about her thoughts. Overall I think it was entertaining, though not one of the best episodes, but that could be because the writing was a bit sloppy and sometimes the story didn’t make sense. I’ll get to why in a bit. Let’s just say that Meredith Glynn isn’t my favourite of the new writers by any means. I didn’t even review The One You’ve Been Waiting For because I didn’t feel particularly inspired by it at all.

But having said that she gave us Larry, and for that I will forever be thankful… even if she didn’t intend for us to take it the way I have (and I am guessing most of you reading this have too).

Anyway, main points to take away under the cut:

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