did you say hands


“And who, I wonder, is Quill when she’s free?” - “I am war itself.”

little bad memory things :)
  • not knowing if you said something out loud or if you only thought it
  • “did i already ask you that?”
  • “what did you say”
  • raising your hand and putting it down multiple times in class because you can’t remember your question/comment
  • pausing in the middle of simple tasks because you can’t remember what you’re doing
  • “where is my [object i had in my hands literally 30 seconds ago]?”
  • not knowing someone’s name even though it’s the 5th time you’ve met them
  • rereading/rewatching books/movies because you can’t remember basic plot details
  • forgetting to look at the list of things you need to remember
  • forgetting the end of your sentence before you even start it/trailing off

♡(人⸝⸝⸝ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ◡ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀⸝⸝⸝)♡ heartthrob song minho ♡(⸝⸝⸝ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ◡ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀⸝⸝⸝人)

“If You Make One More Stupid Pun, I Will Literally Stab You”

Spencer Reid

“Why don’t some couples go to the gym together, Morgan?”

“I don’t know…I guess maybe they feel self conscious around each other or something.  Personally, I think couples that do that are awesome,” he says absent-mindlessly.

“Hm…I guess some relationships just don’t work out,” Spencer smirks as he walks out of Morgan’s office.

And after a brief pause, Morgan realized what he had done.

“Wait…Reid!  Hold up!” he yells as he gets up from his desk.

“Was that a pun?” Morgan asks.

“What?” Reid feigns innocence.

“You pun’d me!” Morgan smiles.

“I don’t believe the word ‘pun’ is an adjective.  Actually, the word is derivative of-”

“Yeah yeah yeah yeah.  You know exactly what you just did,” Derek says as he puts his hand on his shoulder.

“Ok…?” Spencer questions.

“But just to let you know, kid!” Morgan yells as he begins walking back up the steps, “if you make one more stupid pun, I will literally stab you.”

“You know, Morgan, I-I-I’ve never really trusted stairs,” Spencer begins as he swallows hard.

“You ok, Pretty Boy?” Morgan asks as he stops halfway up.

“Yeah.  Yeah.  I-I mean…their always up to something, you know?”

Even J.J. had to laugh at Derek’s reaction as Spencer took off for the elevator with Derek right on his heels.

“Fight Me for Him” - (Yuri!!! On Ice)

Yuri gets angry when people talk shit about his friend.

Yuri bristled. What did you say?

Yakov’s hand came immediately to his arm and squeezed it, a warning. He shoved it off and pointed his finger straight to the face of the journalist he had hissed against. The woman had straight brown hair and an anonymous face that forced him to think for a bit before recognizing her as the same who had asked Viktor if he wouldn’t prefer to face Yuuri as a competitor, at the Rostelecom Cup.

She looked taken aback and it made him furious. “What the fuck did you just say?!”

Keep reading

Paper Hearts

You sat at the piano sitting in Alexander’s ballroom.

You were to meet Lafayette here, and since having a few minutes till he arrives, you would spend the extra time playing the piano.

You fingers danced over the keys before they settled to a tune that matched your emotion.

“Goodbye love, you flew right by love,” you begun to sing.


“You’re absolutely gorgeous!”

When did he…

“You have no idea how much my Laffy talks about you!”

Did she say my Laffy?

Your hands were being squeezed by a tall, coffee skinned girl with dark green eyes and dark, wavy hair. When she arrived, you tried not to let jealousy control your emotions when she was hand in hand with Lafayette.

Key word is try.

“I hope can be the best of friends!”

You forced yourself too smile, a scowl wanting to form instead.

“I hope we can be, too.” Fucking lie.

Lafayette grabbed her hand again, a lovesick smile adorning his handsome face. “[F/Name] will be one friend you’ll never forget.”

Your heart twisted but you still kept that damned smile on to feign happiness.

He reached a hand out to ruffle your hair. “We’ll see you and the guys tonight for movie night right?”

You could only nod.


“Pictures I’m living through for now, Trying to remember all the good times.”


Your typical fun movie night was a nightmare for you. Lafayette’s girlfriend fit right in with Alexander and the others. Her presence pushed you to the outside, making you feel like the newcomer instead of her.

After two hours of hearing them joke and laugh with her, while completely ignoring your existence, you quietly excused yourself upstairs to your room.

You laid in bed, staring at a picture from earlier in the year. The five of you, Alexander, John, Hercules, Lafayette, and yourself at an amusement park laughing as you sat in a photo booth.

The corner of your lip curled into a tiny smile. How long have you been staring at this picture?

You heard muffled scraping of chairs being pushed back and heard Hercules asking “When did [F/Name] leave?”

Your eyes pricked with tears. Of course they forgot you. All those years of friendship down the drain when this-

You closed your eyes when the door to the room creaked open.

“[F/Name]?” Your heart stopped. Lafayette. Footsteps came closer to you, a hand breezing over your face to move stray hairs away.

Lafayette muttered your name, his hand laying on your cheek for a few seconds before it vanished and his footsteps retreated.

The door to your room slowly closed. And that’s when you let your tears roll.


“Everything is grey under these skies, Wet massacre, Hiding every cloud under a smile.”


The pain of that night festered in your heart. To be forgotten like that, like you were nothing…

Angelica invited you to go shopping with her a week after. She told you stories of Peggy and Eliza getting into football for the first time. You cracked a smile when she acted out how they shouted at the TV, screaming every other sports term like “Hole!” and “Volley!”

“Okay. Who did it?” Angelica turned to you with hands on waist after coming from a French boutique you both loved. You didn’t give the reaction she hoped for when your favorite designer came out with a horse design you’ve been waiting for. That warranted concern.

You smiled at her. “What do you mean? I’m absolutely fine.”

“Don’t you dare lie to me!” She stomped her foot, causing other shoppers to stare as they walked pass. “I know you like the back of my mind, [F/Name].”

You sighed at her unnerving stare, lowering your gaze to the floor. You told her the story and she became livid.

“Oh, they are going to get a piece of my mind. Especially Lafayette.”

You grabbed onto her arm, stopping her from heading to the car. You shook your head sadly at her.

She sighed in defeat, cupping your face in her hands. “You shouldn’t hold these feelings to yourself.”

“I won’t. I promise.”


“Our life was cutting through so loud, memories are playing in my dull mind.”


It’s been months since Lafayette’s girlfriend entered the mix. She was even enrolled in the same college. But it didn’t matter.

You spent less and less time with the Hamilton Squad. Your happy demeanor turned sour after a while of being blown off by them constantly. That’s when they begun to notice.

“You want to go with us bowling?” John asked catching up to you after your English class.

“Can’t. I have a horse class later in the evening.” Without a glance to him, you turned to cut through the square foot your next class.

Hercules sat down in front of you as you worked on a sketch. “I know you couldn’t make it to the bowling game yesterday, but how about we head out to the lake by Alex’s house. Yazmine has a few speedboats we can use to race one another.”

Ah,Yazmine. Lafayette’s girlfriend.

“No can do. Promised Eliza to look over her new design for her fashion class.”

You shut your sketchbook and gathered your things, leaving Hercules to sit staring after you.

Yazmine skipped up to you when you were leaving your biology class. She beamed at you, grabbing into your hands like the first time she met you. This time you didn’t even try to be polite. Her smile faltered before returning to full strength.

“My Laffy and I missed you at the lake. We would’ve have so much fun. I heard you’re quite competitive.”

You managed to smirk at this.

“So how about tonight we gather the guys and enjoy a night under the stars. Blankets, snacks, telling stories.”

You let out a huff of air, removing your hands from her grasp. “Sorry. I might get in your way.” She stood confused as she watched you walk away. She turned to Lafayette who stood behind her.

“I don’t know what your problem is-”

You turned to Alexander with a glare so fierce he stopped mid-sentence.

“I don’t know what you mean, Hamilton.” Your upper lip curled.

“So we’re on a last name basis, are we?” He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. You scoffed, returning to reading over a script for your musical theatre class. It was ripped out of your hands by Alexander.

You sat with mouth open before you stood up, fuming.

He held it up higher, using your shortness against you. “Not until you tell me why you refuse to spend time with us!”

The next thing you knew, Alexander was curled on the library’s floor, clutching onto his stomach. You punched him, seeing red. You crumpled the script in your hand, it shaking with adrenaline.

“You tell me. I’ve wanted that answer for a while. But I already know. She replaced me!”


“But you’ll be good without me and if I could just give it some time, I’ll be alright.”


You were being petty, you know this, but it stung. Tremendously.

You had stopped talking to the guys completely, ignoring crestfallen glances from them. Eliza was quite upset when she heard you punched Alexander in his stomach, but agreed he deserved it once hearing the story.

“You have to tell him your feelings.” Eliza placed a cup of tea in front of you. You took a sip. Honey Chamomile was your favorite.

You shook your head. “I… just need time.”

“You had almost a year once knowing your true feelings for this man. He would only recuperate those feelings.”

“If he would recuperate my feelings, why would he date someone else?!” You slammed your cup on the small table, making Eliza jump.

She put her own cup down. “I don’t think he knew you would feel the same.”

The disbelief in your eyes shown like fireworks.

“He would write these cute little letters,” she pulled out a brown heart shape box and opened it revealing many folded notes, “written to you but gave them to me to hold onto. Just in case he grew scared to tell you himself.”

She passed the box to you and you began to read them. You blushed when some became racy, details leaving nothing to the imagination. You shook your head, shoving them back inside.

“It’s too late. He seems completely happy with Yazmine. They’ll make a perfect couple.”


“And I’ll hold a piece of this, Don’t think I would just forget about it, Hoping that you won’t forget.”

The last note hung in the air as you finished playing.

“That was beautiful.”

You turned to see Lafayette standing on top of the staircase. How you missed hearing that thick French accent.

You stood up, dusting off invisible dirt off your clothes as he made his way down the stairs.

“Glad you could make it,” he said standing a few feet in front of you.

You looked away from his chocolate eyes, not wanting to be drawn into them. “So why do you need to talk to me? I have a musical I need to practice for.”

You heard him let out a disgruntled sigh. “I broke up with Yazmine.” He announced after a long pause.

You looked at him, eyebrows knitted together. “What?”

“I broke up with her,” he repeated.

You opened and closed your mouth, trying to find words to speak. Lafayette stepped closer to you. “It wasn’t a good match. And I saw how much it hurt you.“

“I don’t know what you mean.” You moved past him, heading to leave the room when he grabbed your hand.

“You don’t think I heard you crying that night.”

You looked back at him, eyes narrowed. “So what? You and Yazmine made an adorable couple. Go and fucking be with h-”

Lafayette’s lips crashed onto yours, his hands on the small of your back and your neck. You didn’t hesitate to melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him down to your height.

After a few minutes, you both parted for air, foreheads resting against each other.

“I heard from Eliza you read my letters.”

You smiled, nodding. His mouth went to your ear and he begun mumbling French phrases that sent shivers through your body. “I have apologizing to do,” you breathed.

Lafayette pulled you to the staircase. “After we finish what we should’ve done long ago.”


“Did you say you wanna dance with me?
Say you wanna put your hands on me
Did you say that there’s a chance for me?
Are you ready now?”

Takao always figured that getting sick when your mom was a nurse had its advantages and disadvantages. On the one hand, he was always taken care of quite nicely. On the other hand, she always made it seem like it was a personal affront to her honor when he caught a cold.

“Did you remember to wash your hands?”

“Yes, mom,” Takao says in between coughs.

“You take your vitamins, don’t you? Did you stand near someone with a cold?”

“No, but I was licking pigeons the other day, you don’t think that had something to do with it, do you?”

“No need to be sarcastic, Kazu-chan, I’m just wondering how this happened. I’ll make you some soup.”


His mom never hovered when Takao was sick, and now that he’s older she mostly leaves him to his own devices because she still has to work. Which is not really a problem, except that sometimes he feels lonely.

Ok, fine, usually he feels lonely. He hates it, but whenever he’s sick he feels especially needy. He tosses and turns in his bed feeling wretched and miserable and pathetic.

Being sick is the worst.


“This was very careless of you, Takao.”

Takao blinks at the apparition standing over his bed. “Shin-chan?”

He thinks, perhaps, that he’s dreaming. He’s not sure why else Midorima would be here, frowning at him in his disgruntled and gloriously Midorima fashion.

“I have brought your homework,” Midorima says. “Also, you should have taken better care of yourself. Do you wash your hands regularly?”

Well, it certainly sounds like Midorima. And also like his mother, and Jesus Christ, that is not a comparison Takao ever wants to make again.

“Shin-chaaaan,” Takao whines. “Your adorable and beloved boyfriend is sick. That means you have to be nice. And spoil me. And take care of me.”

He’s not sure what exactly he expects—Midorima is not the most demonstrative of boyfriends—but he is rather pleased when Midorima pushes up his glasses and says, “Very well.”


Midorima is very efficient with his care, and Takao dimly remembers that the other boy is studying to be a doctor. He monitors Takao’s temperature, makes sure he drinks a lot of water, and administers the next dosage of medicine in a timely fashion.

When he’s finished, he sits in Takao’s room, and begins studying.

“You can do that at your house,” Takao mumbles.

“I am fine where I am,” Midorima says curtly.


Midorima eats dinner in Takao’s room when Takao is too tired to get out of his bed to eat his soup.

It’s…nice having him around, but strangely off-putting. “Shin-chan, you don’t need to stay,” Takao says, when Midorima makes no indication he’s planning on leaving after finishing his meal.

“I know that,” Midorima says.


Takao wakes and sees Midorima’s silhouette at his bedside, draped in shadows. It’s clearly the middle of the night, and Midorima sits there, fully alert, staring off at the window.

“Shin—?” Takao can’t fully croak out the words, and he’s pretty sure he must still be dreaming, because there’s no reason for Midorima to still be here.

“Go back to sleep, Takao,” Midorima says, and his voice is a strange mixture of stern and gentle.


“I don’t need as much sleep as you,” Midorima explains, understanding Takao’s unfinished question. “I was designed to go up to a week without sleep, if need be.”

Takao still feels drowsy and heavy with sleep. Midorima reaches over and takes Takao’s hand in his and this surely can’t be real because Midorima almost never initiates contact. But his hand is warm against his, and tight too, like Midorima is scared to let go.

“Shin-chan,” Takao says, fully awake now, and almost a little frightened by Midorima’s gravity. In the darkness, reality feels just a little bit altered, and Midorima is acting so strange Takao thinks there must be something deeper going on. Maybe even something dangerous.

Midorima bends down to place his forehead against Takao’s. “Please get better soon, Takao,” Midorima says, his voice low and hoarse and desperate. “I don’t like seeing you like this. I hate that you’re so vulnerable. I hate that you break so easy, I hate—”

It’s just a cold, Takao wants to say. If he was healthier, he’d laugh it off (but, of course, if he was healthier he wouldn’t be in this situation). He would laugh and maybe slap Midorima on the back and tell him he’s being silly.

But everything seems so different, now in the dark.

“OK, Shin-chan,” Takao whispers. “I’ll get better.”

“Good,” Takao says, but he doesn’t pull away.

A/N: Thanks for the prompt, anon-friends! Sick Takao seemed like a popular request so I ran with it =D

The One With The Kissing Booth

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: When you’re working the kissing booth at the school carnival, Stiles sees an opportunity to finally kiss the girl of his dreams but things don’t go exactly as planned.

MASTERLIST, MOBILE MASTERLIST (you can like it and save it for later!)

“So, there are Dread Doctors and chimeras and the Beast running around and we’re going to a carnival?”

Scott frowns at Stiles, “Maybe if we’re all in one place when it strikes we’ll know who’s missing and be able to find out who it is.”

Stiles raises his brows and then furrows together, “D-did you just say ‘when it strikes’?” he throws his hands up, “Oh great, so we’re sitting ducks. You’re expecting it to attack!”

“On the plus side, there’s a kissing booth here and y/n is working it.”

Stiles rubs his palms together and presses his fingers to his lips, “Plus side? Dozens – maybe hundreds of guys get to kiss her. How is that a plus side?”

Scott presses a hand to Stiles’ chest, “Because you, my friend, could be one of them.”

Stiles’ eyes are distant for a moment –hopeful – before his gaze returns to Scott, “Oh sure, that’ll be special. Kissing the girl I’ve been in love with since first grade after lining up and then probably tasting the spit of a sweaty freshman.”

Scott frowns in disgusts, “Thanks for the visual,” he rubs at the stubble on his chin, “Maybe she doesn’t kiss hundreds of guys. Maybe just you.”

“And how do you propose we get her to do that?”

Scott gives Stiles a knowing look as he walks towards the kissing booth. It was still being set up and Lydia stood behind the counter, placing a jar on the table.

“I think you’ll need a jar bigger than that,” Scott scoffs. She looks thoughtful for a moment and then reaches for a bucket from under the counter and shakes it for them to see, “Trust me, I know,” she frowns, “I’m not looking forward to it.”

“How exactly did you get roped into this?”

Lydia grimaces, “Well, you know how all the girls on the cheerleading squad have to volunteer at the booth – oh by the way Stiles, y/n will be here,” she adds, “Well, I tried out for the squad.”

“YOU WHAT?!” Scott laughs. Lydia shoots him an annoyed look before continuing, “I tried out so I’d have a few more extracurricular activities, okay? Finding dead bodies, as helpful as it may be to the police, does not count as one.”

“So you’re on the squad?”

“Well, since we’re half way through senior year and I have literally no experience, they said they’d sign me on if I took on the… longer shift at the kissing booth.”

“That’s awful,” Scott frowns, “Who made you take the longer shift?”

“Y/N,” she sighs, “As captain, she can kind of do whatever she wants – you know, Stiles, she’s really not that nice.”

Stiles waves a hand, dismissing her comment, “Neither were you when I first met you. People can change,” his eyes drift to you, standing further across the field, “I’m sure she’s just misunderstood.”

“Trust me, she’s not. During tryouts, she made a freshman cry.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know, the poor girl came out sobbing with a red print on her face.”

“SHE SLAPPED HER?!” Scott exclaims. Lydia presses a finger to her lips, shooting her eyes sideway to remind him you weren’t far behind them.

“All I’m saying is, maybe find someone else to ask to Senior Prom Stiles.”

“Yeah, about that, I need to kiss y/n today at this booth – you need to make it happen,” Stiles whispers.

“How do you propose I do that?” she leers.

Stiles turns to Scott, “What’s your plan?”

Scott signals for them to lean in, “When is her shift?”

“Right after mine – she made me take most of hers so hers is only like 10 minutes.”

“That’s perfect. So Lydia, when Stiles comes over you switch with her and then immediately switch back and tell her you’ll take her shift.”

“Wha- NO! It’s already bad enough I’ll be sucking face for 30 minutes and you want me to make it 40?”

“37 if Stiles really gets in there,” Scott chuckles. Lydia slaps his arm, “No.”

“Lydia, pleaaaaase,” Stiles whines, “This could be my only chance.”

“You’ve had hundreds of chances since the first grade!”

“Yes but this is my only chance where she has no choice,” he mumbles, “Please?”

Lydia rolls her eyes, “Fine. But in return you take my shift at the dunk trunk.”

“You volunteered for that too?” Stiles asks in surprise.

“Extra-curriculars,” she growls. Stiles nods, shaking her hand in agreement.

“I didn’t think this through,” Stiles shakes his head and the water from his dripping hair showers Scott.


“Sorry,” Stiles mumbles, “I’m going to be sopping wet when I kiss her – my wet hair is going to leak into her eyes and then her mascara will run and she’ll go blind and then she’ll blame me and then-“

“STILES!” Scott interrupts his rant, “It’ll be fine,” he looks at Stiles in concern, “You’re shivering. Why don’t we get you dry?”

“No time,” Stiles mutters through chattering teeth, “Her shift is in a minute.” When they make their way over to the booth, most of the lacrosse team is waiting in line. One boy from the team, shoves a freshman in front of him whom Lydia kisses so abruptly, Scott wasn’t even sure their lips touched.

“Hey, why are you guys sending the freshman through first?” Scott asks him. The boy smirks, “We’re waiting for y/n.”

Stiles sniffles, “That’s not how it works! When it’s your turn, you go – your turn? You go!” he wiggles a finger in the boy’s face.

“Stiles, your heart is racing,” Scott whispers in concern.

“You don’t say?!” Stiles hisses back. Stiles reaches the front in no time after being let through by everyone waiting for you. Lydia gives Stiles a firm nod before turning to you.

“Hey y/n, do you mind switching for a sec? I just need to put some chap stick on.”

“Sure,” you smile. There’s a collective cheer as you assume her position. Stiles had his fists balled up by his side.

“You have to put the money in the jar first,” you nod towards the glass jar on the counter.

“Oh,” stiles mumbles, fishing through his pocket. He pulls out a twenty dollar bill and places it in.

“It’s only five dollars,” you remind him.

“You’re worth more than that,” he mumbles. You can’t help but smile, “You don’t have to compliment me first,” you laugh.

“For twenty dollars, you better kiss him good,” Lydia adds, leaning in toward you as she applies Chap Stick. Stiles stands frozen as you lean in. His lips were a pale shade of blue and felt icy when your lips touched them. He barely moves against you and you place a hand on his cheek, moving your lips slowly against his. When he doesn’t respond, you pull away, “Stiles?” you wave a hand in front of his face as he stands frozen, staring at you with wide eyes.

“He’s just really cold,” Scott explains, nudging Stiles.

“Was it not a good kiss?” you ask. Stiles shakes his head vigorously.

“Was it so good you can’t speak?”

He nods before shaking his head and then nodding again, his cheeks flushing pink. You smile to yourself, “You did pay twenty bucks so I’ll let you kiss me again or else you’ll have to move,” you nod behind him where people were growing impatient.

Stiles nods, stepping out of the way.

“I’ll finish up for you,” Lydia says looking displeased.

“Are you sure?”

She nods wearily. You pick up your wallet and walk from behind the counter, jogging towards Scott and Stiles who were making their way across the field.


He turns around in mild bewilderment, “She knows my name,” he hisses to Scott.

When you catch up to them, they both look at you curiously.

“Are you okay? You were really weird back there – you’re making me doubt my kissing abilities.”

“Oh no, don’t doubt them, they’re amazing – out of this world,” Stiles babbles before biting his lip, “I mean – I was just-“

“Really, really cold? Your lips are blue.”

He nods silently.

“I feel awful. I’m the one that got the shot that dunked you into the tank,” you sigh.

“Nice shot,” Scott chuckles. He looks between you and Stiles, “I’m gonna go grab a towel for Stiles,” he calls out over his shoulder, jogging toward the opposite side of the field. You and Stiles make your way to the bleachers.

“So, how do you know my name?”

You frown, “Stiles, we’ve been in the same classes since first grade. How could I not?”

“It’s just I’m- and you’re-“


“You’re – you’re just-“ he sighs, “You know what I mean.”

You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “Maybe you should join the squad - spend more time with me.”

Stiles shakes his head, “Me and stunts would not go well. I can’t even walk in a straight line without tripping over. Plus I hear the screening process is pretty rough.”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you hit a freshman at tryouts…”

“Wha – I didn’t hit anyone!”

“My friend said a freshman left crying without a red mark on her face.”

“Oh,” you laugh, “I didn’t hit her, Stiles, she kicked herself in the face. She was very enthusiastic – I let her on the team.”

Stiles looks at you in surprise and you roll your eyes, “I’m not a bad person. It hurts me that you’d think so.”

“What about making Lydia take your shift?”

“Oh. My friend has a huge crush on her. I got her to do it so he could kiss her. I was going to take over for her once he kissed her.”

“Oh,” Stiles hums to himself in embarrassment.

“Kind of like what she did for you, huh?”


“She switched with me right when you came over,” you raise a brow. Stiles stammers, looking around as if hoping someone would pick him up and carry him away so he wouldn’t have to finish the conversation.

You laugh, ruffling his wet hair, “Its fine. Though, for going to all that effort, you didn’t really… make use of it,” you nudge him. Stiles blushes, “I just – I’m – I was really cold!” he tries to explain. You place his hand in yours, rubbing them to warm him up, “Maybe we should try again.”

This time when you lean in, Stiles lean in so he fits against you, caressing your cheek with his hand and moving slowly against your lips. When you pull away, he has a grin plastered on his face that makes you feel embarrassed.

“I think you got your money’s worth now,” you mumble. He shakes his head, leaning in, “I think you owe me a little more.” This time you kiss longer and deeper until the sound of Scott’s voice makes you jump apart.

“Oh great, she said yes!” he cheers.

“Yes?” you ask.

“Yeah, to Senior Prom.”

Stiles buries his face in his hands and Scott’s jaw drops open, “Oh, you didn’t – you were both just-“

You move Stiles’ hands away, “You were going to ask me to senior prom?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “It’s stupid. You probably already have a date.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh,” Stiles looks at you hopefully before his eyes dim a little, “You probably won’t want to go with me either.”

“I just kissed you,” you chuckle.

“Yeah but that was because of the kissing booth-“

“It wasn’t,” you interject, “So either you ask me or we go back to not talking like the first grade.”

Stiles stares at you, sucking in a deep breath, “Will you go to prom with me?”

You pretend to consider it despite your heart trying to leap out of your chest and into Stiles’ arms, “I guess I could,” you wink. As you stand up, Scott tosses Stiles the towel.

“Stiles?” you call out as you go down a few levels.


“I mean it about you trying out for the squad,” you wink.

“You’re trying out to be a cheerleader?” Scott chuckles once you disappear, “You can’t even stand up without falling over.”

“Whatever man,” he waves a hand, “I’m taking y/n to the prom. The head cheerleader is going to the prom with me!” he cheers, pumping a fist in the air before wrapping his arms back around himself as a cold breeze spreads through the field.

“You won’t be taking anyone to the prom if you catch pneumonia,” Scott mumbles, wrapping the towel around Stiles tighter.

“What if we got a small tree?”

“What?” Lexa gasps.  “What did you just say?”  Clarke takes a step back and raises her hands up in front of her, palms out.

“It’s just that our apartment is very small this year,” she says.

“How small?”

“What?” Clarke says, looking around the tiny apartment they are standing in the middle of.

“The tree.  How small?”

“I don’t know,” Clarke shakes her head.  “The only space we’ve got is in the kitchen.”  Lexa folds her arms across her chest, but not like she’s angry, more like she is trying to pull her body back together.   Clarke knew this wouldn’t go over well.  She knew.  She hands her a mug of hot chocolate that she had prepared specifically for this conversation and leads her girlfriend gently to the couch.  “Maybe one of those three footers,” she says softly, like you would offer a consolation toy to a toddler.   “You can pick them up anywhere.”  Lexa balks.

“I know that the woman I love did not just suggest that I put a fake tree in my house.”

“Okay,” Clarke says.  “Okay, I get it, but you have to admit that a big tree just doesn’t make sense this year.”

“Christmas isn’t about sense,” Lexa pouts.  

“Okay,” Clarke says again.  “Yes, I know.”

“I don’t know if you do,” Lexa glares at her from under her eyelashes, tucking herself into a corner of the couch and holding the mug up to her chin with both hands.  Her thick Christmas themed socks are slipping off her toes, and she pushes her heel against the cushions a few times to fix them.  

“I know what Christmas is about, Lexa.”

“We need a real tree.”

“Okay,” Clarke concedes.  “Fine.  What about a small real tree?”

“How small?”

“How small would be acceptable?” Clarke perches herself on the couch next to Lexa, close, but careful to leave an inch or two of space between them while Lexa mulls it over.  She takes a few sips from her mug, brow furrowed.

“Six feet,” Lexa says, finally.

“Four feet,” Clarke counters.

“Six feet,” Lexa says again.

“Four and a half feet, and I let you put up tinsel this year.”  Lexa’s feet drop to the floor as leans forward, mug resting in her lap.


“That’s the offer,” Clarke says.

“Give me string lights in the bedroom, and you’ve got a deal.”

“Fine,” Clarke sighs.  Lexa holds her hand out, and Clarke shakes it firmly, trying to keep from grinning.   She tugs Lexa’s hand until she tips forward far enough to press her lips to hers.  “But you have to take them down before February.”

“I will not promise that.”

Adore You - Drabble

Originally posted by zahthu

A/N: Based on a list of random sentences, that inspired those drabbles.


People always had different opinions and you accepted that.

Unless they put someone else down.

Or, even worse, they put your boyfriend down.

The sweet, caring man that was tortured for years and transformed into a weapon.

So when you hear a stupid asshole saying Bucky is a murderer during a nice walk in the park, you had to stop and turn around to face the man.

What did you say?” you hissed. Bucky placed a hand on your arm.

“[Y/n], it’s not worthy.”

Your eyes met your boyfriend’s. “You’re not a murderer and I won’t let him talk about you like that.” You turned your attention back to the man. “Are you stupid? I asked you a question,” you squinted your eyes, “What did you say?”  

“That the Winter Soldier i-“

But, fortunately, he couldn’t finish his sentence. As a matter of fact, he would be doing much talking for the next weeks, since your punch broke his jaw.

“Talk about Bucky like that again and I will end you, do you hear me?”

The man nodded, fear was obvious in his features, and quickly walked away.

Bucky’s strong arms encircled your waist and brought you closer to him, a smile playing on his lips. “I fucking adore you.”

You laugh and it’s the best sound Bucky ever heard in his life.

“I know.”

Cullen Romance Jaws of Hakkon Rendition
  • Dorian: Cullen?
  • Cullen: Yes?
  • Dorian: I have some bad news.
  • Cullen: What is it now Pavus, have my furs offended you so much you've burnt them down?
  • Dorian: No. Your wife fell into a ravine...
  • Cullen: Maker no!
  • Dorian: Maker yes. I told her not to look but she did anyway; you have a minx on your hand. Or should I say a cat? She fell 40 feet and still landed on her feet.
  • Cullen: Wait what? She is okay?
  • Dorian: Naturally, wounded pride perhaps. It will teach her not to climb trees for "laughs".
  • Cullen: She fell out of a tree?
  • Dorian: In her defence it doubled up as a bridge.
  • Cullen: No, wait, let me commit this to memory. Her Worship Inquisitor Lady Trevelyan Of Ostwick, Saviour of Thedas, Hero of Adamant and Warrior of the Divine, climbed a tree for "laughs" and promptly fell out of it? Tell me Dorian, was there flailing? Don't spare any details, I will need to recall this at every party she drags me to from now on, so it has to be vivid.
  • Dorian: You are evil Rutherford, you know that right? No wonder Templars have a bad name in the South.

How do you write like you’re running out of time?

Bless Miranda for incorporating Hamilton’s speculated hypomania/bipolar disorder into the show–it’s not something they teach you in school, but when I heard the lyrics I recognized this feeling instantly and went to look it up.  It’s always nice to be reminded that people like me can and do live remarkable lives.

Credit: The text in the background is Hamilton’s writing, and is from the Library of Congress’s “Creating the United States” exhibition.

please enjoy my boring sansby headcanon:

after they first start dating, they continue to refer to each other as their “friend” instead of their “boyfriend” for quite a while, but it’s for very different reasons

sans is uncomfortable with the sudden change and is also protecting himself a little in case it ends early.  he figures grillby is doing it for the same reason.

grillby (my headcanon grillby) feels like the word “boyfriend” is for teenagers and people in their twenties.  he’s too old for boyfriends.  he figures sans must agree with him, on some level.

eventually, grillby has to clarify his relationship with sans (maybe to a relative) and he tells them that he is “in a relationship” with sans, and sans realizes that grillby doesn’t care at all that people know they’re dating.  and then he’s like “why did i ever think it’d be for the same reason he’s not like me at all” 

he kind of makes a joke about the “in a relationship” thing (he thinks it’s a little snooty) later and grillby clarifies where it came from and is suddenly like “why would someone like sans care that boyfriend is too immature a term for his age”

of course once sans realizes grillby’s reason, he’s suddenly entirely comfortable calling grillby his boyfriend.  because grillby finds it mildly obnoxious.  grillby is now “the boyfriend” or horrible abbreviations of the term whenever sans refers to him to other people.  

grillby adopts it very rarely.  basically, when he walks in and sans is like doing his horrible whoopee cushion intro or some other prank, and someone nearby is like “who is that guy” grillby responds, tired, “that’s my boyfriend.”  

Okay so I was asked to do 10.12 if they had not been interrupted. So I am starting with When they got back home after being Interupted and we'll work our way back.

Amy runs giggling into their apartment. Sheldon hot on her heels chasing her and pointing his wand. It had been a wonderful day. She can’t think of anything that will top this day for her.

“Stupefy!” He yells and Amy freezes in her tracks. Except maybe this Amy thinks as he walks around to face her. “I believe I put the hankiess pankiess spell on you,” He tells her as he places his hands on her hips. The way he is looking at her makes her heart pound so hard she’s surprised Sheldon can’t hear it. It’s unlike anyone has ever looked at her before. Like she is the most delicious thing in the world and he can’t wait to devour her whole.

“So you did,” She says placing her hands on his waist and looking up at him. “What are you going to do about it?” He bends down to kiss her but is stopped by the brim of her baseball cap. Which he pulls off and tosses on the couch.

“As adorable as you look in that, it’s getting in my way. Now where was I?” He asks bending down again and kissing her.

Softly at first, nibbling gently at her bottom lip. He always started out gentle, like he was afraid she might stop him or he might scare her away. Then slowly he would gain confidence, kissing her deeper. The first time he tentatively pressed his tongue against her bottom lip she almost passed out. The shock and the pleasure were so intense. It still sends a thrill of sensation through her every time he parts her lips to gain better access to her mouth.

Amy slips her hands inside his robes. She slides her hands up his back to feel his muscles flex as a pulls her closer to him. Their bodies are pressed together, she can feel the hard length of him pressed against her. Amy wonders if they will make love out here in the living room. Then he pulls away and takes her hand leading her to the bedroom. Suddenly she feels very shy and unsure of herself. The first time they made love it was planned. There was no undressing each other, they were already in their nightclothes. The logistics of who undresses whom is starting to make her panic. As if reading her mind Sheldon takes control. Tugging at the zipper of her hooded sweatshirt he bought for her at the park. Pulling it off her shoulders and tossing it on a chair. Then he looks at her intently asking silent permission to continue his task.

“It’s okay,” She says barely able to find her voice. As his nimble fingers make quick work of her sweater and blouse.

Gently he lies her down on the bed. Then he gently takes her wrist and softly kisses his way up her arm. Then across her collarbones and back down to her other wrist. Where he finally kisses her wrist and inhales deeply.

“You always smell so good. I think you’re my favorite scent in the world,“ He tells as he kisses her palm and moves back to her lips to kiss her deeply. “I know you’re my favorite flavor.”

“You’re my favorite scent, taste, thing in the world,” Amy agrees and he grins at her.

“It’s a wonderful thing, to be someone’s favorite,” He says seriously.

“It is,” Amy agrees, tears starting to form in her eyes. Prior to Sheldon she had never been anyone’s favorite anything. “I love you, Sheldon,” Amy tells him.

“I love you, too. I intend to show you how much,” He says softly as he leans down to kiss her tears away.

Then he moves from her cheeks to her lips leaving a small kiss before moving down her neck. Kissing across to her shoulders where he lowers the straps of her bra. Then moves to unhook the front clasp of her bra, pulling it off. Covering her breasts with his large hands and suckling them. He lavishes attention on each of her breasts before moving down her belly. Planting kisses on his way that leave her feeling hot and tingly. Slowly he works his way to the waistband of her skirt. Which he undoes and then pulls down along with her tights. Then he slides back up her body.

Sheldon is still fully dressed, and she longs to feel his bare flesh against her own. Amy pulls at his robes and he sits up and pulls them off. Then he pulls of his shirts and leans back over her body. Amy lets her hands roam his body. Rediscovering every inch of his skin with her fingertips. Stopping at the waistband of his pants where she eagerly unbuttons them and pulls them down. Grabbing his sturdy length and stroking him. He groans ininto her mouth as he kisses her.

“Are you ready?” He asks quietly. Amy shakes her head yes. She is more than ready, the attention he has lavished on her has left her feeling desperate and achy.

He moves between her legs and enters her slowly. Both of them overwhelmed at first by the intense pleasure and sensation. They move together, unsure at first. Then gaining confidence as they move with each other.

Amy is struck by the depth of emotion in the act. That is the part no one had prepared her for. How the meeting of their two bodies. Felt like so much more. When they were together she could feel how much he loved her. She knew he could feel it too. Looking into his eyes she felt like she could see his soul. See the parts of him he locked away from everyone else. Tears are threatening to prick her eyes again as she is overcome with her love for him.

“Sheldon… I…” She says searching for something to say that will express how she is feeling about him right now. Yet words can’t express everything she is feeling for him.

“Shh… I know…” He tells her softly.