edge-less

Ring Once

Story by reddit user Pippinacious

I’d never been good in storms, but I was even worse in hospitals, so when the choice came to go visit Nana, my ma’s mother, or stay home and brave the thunder and lightning on my own, I only hesitated for a moment before making my decision.

“You sure you don’t want to come, Hannah?” Ma asked, hovering uncertainly in the doorway leading to the garage.

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Bookmarks: DIY

A simple tutorial on how to make your very own bookmarks.

Materials:

  • Photoshop
  • Laser Printer Paper (preferably 28lb, but 24lb is also fine)
  • Pretty Poster Board or Scrapbooking Paper
  • Glue Stick
  • Scissors & Paper Trimmer
  • Laminator (if you don’t have one, you can buy one at WalMart for $20. They’re SUPER useful to have, especially if you make artsy stuff a lot.)
  • Bookmark Tassels (Optional)
  • 1/8 Inch Hole Punch (Optional)

Step One

First, determine the size of bookmarks you want to make. (Mine are typically 2″ x 6.5″.) When you’ve decided on a size that you like, create a new canvas in Photoshop with those dimensions, and make sure it is set to AT LEAST 300 DPI.

Step Two

Draw your bookmark design! Make sure all of your important stuff doesn’t get too close to your edges because you want to leave a tiiiiiny bit of room for error just in case you mess up when you cut them out.

Step Three

After your bookmark design(s) is done, create another new Photoshop canvas that is 8.5″ x 11″ and set to the same DPI as your bookmarks.

Drag and drop as many of your book mark designs as you can onto your new 8.5 x 11 canvas. Don’t put them very close together, though, as you want to leave enough room to comfortably cut them out later.

Step Four

Assuming you don’t have a laser printer, we’re gonna take a little trip to Staples/Office Depot/Office Max!

Save that canvas with all your bookmarks on it as a JPEG and put it on a flash drive. Grab a small stack of your own paper and put it in a folder (make sure you have a way to show the printer what type of paper it is. You may just wanna bring the whole pack with you, because I know some stores want to make sure you’re giving them laser printer paper to print on, as other paper types will mess up their machines)

Note: I’m not sure about Office Depot/Office Max, but I KNOW Staples will only charge around $0.50 per page to print your image out if you bring your own paper! ♥

Take the flash drive and your paper with you to your nearest office supply store.

Ask the printer there to print out however many copies you want. If you’re very particular about the size of the bookmarks, make sure to tell them to not have it set to “Fit to Size” and instead let it print at 100%.

Step Five

Once your bookmark copies are printed, it’s time to cut them out!

The best way to do this is to use a paper trimmer. You can get a cheap one from WalMart or Michaels for about $5. They’re SUPER useful to have and make cutting straight edges a million times easier.

The reason you want to cut them out before you glue them your poster board/decorative paper is because you want to be able to fit as many bookmarks as you can onto the posters so that you don’t waste any.

Step Six

Time to glue them to your poster(s)/scrap book paper!

I try to buy really unique posterboard that catches the eye and matches the colour schemes of my bookmarks. I usually end up getting metallic colours or holographic poster/paper because that’s what I personally like. I would advise staying away from anything that has textures, though, since you’re going to laminate these later.

Make sure you’re gluing your bookmarks to the BACK of the poster board.

Also, make sure you coat all edges and corners, as you don’t want anything to curl up. A good tip I find is lining any of your bookmark edges up to the edges of the poster board. That way it’s just one or two less edge(s) you have to cut off.


Step Seven

Time to cut out the bookmarks again!

Get as close to the bookmark’s edge as you can so you don’t leave any white poster board backing hanging off the edge. If you have to, it’s totally fine to cut off a millimeter of your bookmark design just to make sure you have a clean trim.


Step Eight

Laminate! Since I already have some Mettaton bookmarks laminated, I’ll use them for this example.

Make sure that when you slip your bookmarks into the lamination sheet, they have a decent amount of space between them. If they get too close, the lamination might not seal all of the way around each bookmark.

Step Nine

Once you get all of your bookmarks laminated, we once again have to cut them out.

It’s very important to leave about a third of a centimeter of lamination on the edge of your bookmarks. If you cut right along the edge of the bookmark, the lamination will eventually peal off, and we don’t want that. We want to keep it nice and sealed.

Be sure to trim the corners a little bit, since they can be kinda sharp and poke you pretty bad.

Step Ten

This part is completely optional, but I love to take an 1/8 inch hole punch and punch a little hole in the top of the bookmark and add a little tassel decoration.

You can find these tassels online from China on Ebay or Aliexpress for pretty cheap. The prices are all about the same no matter who you buy from, so I can’t really give a specific vendor who has the best prices. (Note: pretty obvious, but if you buy them within the US, you’re gonna pay a lot more.)

Bonus Info:

If none of my instructions have made any sense, this video does a wonderful job of explaining the process of bookmark making for artist alleys and whatnot.

anonymous asked:

Hi! I love your writing! Can you write an Andriel fic where someone (nathan's men, burglar, you decide!) breaks into Neil's apartment while he's face timing with Andrew and Andrew is all worried and stuff over the phone :)

thank you so so much, precious anon! ask and you shall receive. also on AO3.

send me prompts :)


“And if I move Davis to the left, then Salazar has way too much ground to cover. But if I don’t, then he’ll have to keep up with Rhodes, and we all know he can’t handle her…” Neil is going round and round with these ideas for new plays, mostly to himself. Andrew flicks his eyes away from the zucchini he is currently dicing to look at Neil on his computer screen, scribbling away in his notebook approximately 1,226 miles away.

He watches Neil stop writing. Tilt his head to left. Sigh. And draw a giant X over everything he’s been working on for the past hour and a half.

Andrew rolls his eyes and shakes his head, though he really doesn’t know why he is surprised. Neil’s new position as the leading striker on the Baton Rouge Pirates includes more responsibilities than he had on his first pro team. Neil will undoubtedly be up for several hours working on this one play, and Andrew will be a silent spectator, contributing the occasional snarky comment when asked for his opinion.

Finished with the zucchini, Andrew adds it in with the rest of the vegetables and tosses them into the pan with his already sizzling potatoes. He moves to the sink to rinse the knife he was using and return it to the knife block on the counter, a house-warming gift from Bee.

Neil is still thinking out loud, going on about Davis’s apparent lack of speed and general know-how. Truthfully, Andrew could not care less about any of it. But he finds that just the even sound of Neil’s voice makes him feel more relaxed, a little less on edge than usual. Even if he is just droning on about Exy, it’s almost like they aren’t on different sides of the country. They FaceTime at least twice a week, and it brings Andrew much more comfort than he will ever be willing to admit. He likes Denver, but not as much as he hates Neil.

“Ugh! I’m done. I’m so done. If I look at this for another second, I’ll light it on fire,” comes Neil’s exasperated complaint. Andrew is tending to his vegetables, but he can hear the shuffling of paper and what sounds like a pen hitting a wall.

“Luckily for you, I disabled your fire alarm,” Andrew says, purposefully ignoring Neil’s tantrum.

Andrew turns in time to witness Neil’s dramatic sigh, complete with his head rather forcefully meeting his folded arms on the table. Andrew rolls his eyes, yet again, and turns the stove off before plating his masterpiece. He walks over to where his laptop is sitting on the counter and picks it up, taking Neil with him to the table. Neil must notice all the noise because he finally sits back up and rests his chin in his hand.

They look at each other for a moment before Andrew drags his gaze away and settles his attention on something else, anything else. This is his least favorite part. The way they can see and hear each other, almost feel like they’re together, but then he can’t even make actual eye contact with Neil. It’s trivial, really. It shouldn’t bother him this much, but it does. The awkward cycle of looking at Neil, then looking at the tiny screen in the corner housing his own reflection, then attempting to look into the camera like maybe Neil will understand what Andrew won’t say.

“Staring,” Andrew says, mainly as a distraction from these unwelcome thoughts.

“Uh-huh,” Neil snorts in response, like he can see right through Andrew. He probably can.

Andrew looks back to see Neil look to his right and let a small smile creep onto his face. He vanishes from view for about thirty seconds, then reappears with an armful of Sir Fat Cat McCatterson.

“Oh look. It’s still alive. Joy.”

Neil laughs. “Shut up, you adore him and you know it.”

“I hate him slightly less than I hate most other things.”

Neil tosses Andrew a triumphant smile. “Exactly.”

Andrew offers only a noncommittal grunt in return.

“So what should we do when I’m off next week? I bought my ticket already, by the way. I get in at 9:45 Sunday night.”

“We could drive to the top of Mount Evans, and I could leave you there,” Andrew replies.

“Finally find a decent place to hide my body? I’m actually a little disappointed. You should at least cross state lines, getting rid of me a mere 65 miles away is too suspicious. You know they always suspect the boyfriend first.”

Andrew lets the term slide in favor of silently flipping Neil off.

Neil’s ensuing laughter is cut short when he turns his head sharply to the left, toward his front door.

“What?” Andrew asks.

Neil is quiet for several seconds, much too long for Andrew’s liking.

“I think someone just picked my lock.”

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We Could Be Gigantic

for @padfootdidntdoit , whomst i would be lost without 

word count: 4700

part i | AO3 | spotify playlist


November

When the kettle begins boiling in earnest, it drowns out the ticking of that awful clock that Sirius found in a train station, or at the bottom of the Thames, or in nineteen fifty-two. He installed it so far up the wall behind the fridge that Lily hasn’t a hope of reaching it unless she somehow manages to grow an extra three feet, and it drives her mad (especially considering he’s only eight inches taller than her). The point of this is that Lily spends as much time as possible per day boiling the kettle. Lately, her rate of tea consumption is just about levelling James’, which is – well, she sent him a crate of real tea last week so it must be just about time to post him another one.

The clock isn’t even on the right time, which is probably the worst part. Actually, no, the fact that Lily has started automatically adding an hour and six minutes on in her head is probably the worst part.

(She was at work last week when her co-worker Dorcas had asked the time and Lily had told her it was four fifty. Needless to say, their boss had not been pleased to discover Dorcas in the staff room packing up her things an hour before the end of her shift.)

Lily looks at the clock, and it reads two forty-five, which means that in nine minutes’ time, James will be seated in front of his laptop, ready to receive an incoming video call from her. She plugs her own computer into its charger, and waits for it to turn on (too slowly), and then she logs in to Skype.

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Cold air but warm fire. hot air but fresh breeze that’s how it feels around you. cuz you make winter warmer and summer fresher, the rain heavier but the hurricane calmer. you make my edges less sharp and my thorns less spiky. you touch me back to life and kiss my pain away making me wonder if it was really there in the first place.
—  warmsnow07 
This Woman

(spoilers for 3x02 ahead)

We all like to pile on Jenny. She can be a right witch, and suffers no fools. She’s a hardheaded Fraser, assertive, passionate - but given the responsibility she’s shouldered since she was a girl, the protection she’s had to extend to her brother and an entire estate of people who rely on her smarts, common sense, and survival extinct, I can’t say I blame her.

The biggest sticking point when it comes to Jenny is that whole upcoming business with Laoghaire. But to Jenny, Claire is dead. She’s not coming back. Jamie is broken, and Jenny thinks she can fix him with the right match. It’s an act of sibling loyalty, of responsibility. She knows the benefit of a partner in life, had Ellen and Brian Fraser as parents, has found love with Ian, and can see that Jamie is not a very good bachelor. Claire is dead, and Jamie is suffering, and Jenny does what she can to fix the problem.

Do I like it? No. But I can understand Jenny’s motivation.

I really like Laura Donnelly’s portrayal of Jenny Murray. I LOVED her portrayal in “Surrender.” We’ve reached a better place for the Fraser siblings this season - they are more mature and exposed; less knife edge, more comforting spoonfuls. Jenny and Ian and their brood and Fergus are all Jamie has left, and his dedication to them and Jenny’s reciprocal care and worry have brought the brother and sister closer, made them more open, softer with one another while the world falls to pieces around them.

And Laura does this with so much feeling. Her pain in the final scene with Jamie before he’s carted off to jail is palpable. She’ll never forgive him - not for being a traitor - but for making her a traitor to him.

I think there’s a reason this episode opens with Jenny’s stoic goodbyes to Ian as he’s taken away to the garrison by the Redcoats and ends with her anguished surrender of Jamie. One, to highlight the difference in the men’s fates - a few days at the garrison for Ian vs. the finality of what will likely be a lifetime behind bars for Jamie - and two, to show just how strong she is. The two most important men in her life are under the control of a malignant enemy, and still she cannot lose her head, has to think big picture, has to protect everyone as much as she can despite her own breaking heart. As it has always been, she is the rock. She holds everything together. She is the Laird.

Janet Flora Arabella Fraser Murray, I salute you.

I love any episode that fades out on Travis yelling at Matt, “oh, you bastard!”

The show is so good to begin with, but whenever Ashley’s around it just morphs into this whole new level of amazing. What a great little encounter. Matt’s awfully good at scaling the game to suit such a ridiculously strong party—when the smoke-monster-thing appeared, I immediately thought “what single creature is gonna be able to threaten seven characters who are practically demigods at this point?” and it’s like, yeah, of course, that’s a heckuva way to do it.

Dang good misdirection, too—I feel like if the cast had been a little less on-edge due to recent encounters, they could’ve easily been less suspicious than they were (Tary using the mind-reading spell on Ogden would’ve been great if the language thing had worked out). A lot of time was spent building up this idea that maybe part of the Trickfoots’ poor reputation was a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy because nobody trusted them, and everyone was starting to second-guess their own suspicions, which was so well done. In the end, Pike giving J.B. another shot felt like a good compromise between the two main things pulling at her in that resolution, namely “most of your family consists of terrible, manipulative people who are trying to use you and they do not deserve any part of you” versus “you are a cleric of a literal deity of redemption and second chances”. What a complicated mess of emotion. 

The thematic callbacks and running jokes on this show are frighteningly good sometimes. It’s just unreal that it’s all improvised.

Other good little things:

  • Many minutes spent crafting a perfect hat for Grog to wear, and Matt pulling in the chin-strap at the end was too good.
  • Loved the little exchange where Vax gets extremely solemn after handing the gun back to Percy. That realization felt really genuine, and I liked the little shoulder-bump later—they’re slowly starting to understand each other again, which is pretty great.
  • I still can’t get over the sheer cocky style behind making a lightning-zapping mechanical glove and calling it friggin’ Diplomacy.
  • The exchange with Kynan was great, and I love that Vax got Simon back after confirming that Kynan was doing better. I also love that Kynan just… had a belt for a year that turned into a snake one time and he never really questioned it.
  • Everyone’s (but especially Vex’s) indignant reactions to Wilhand not approving of their baked goods. Incredible.
  • Here’s something silly that I’ve been suspicious of since episode 86: it could very well just be excellent and consistent worldbuilding, but that’s the second time now that Matt has pointed out this area near the castle that used to be sort of a dumping-ground for the mining byproducts and has now been reclaimed into a field. In the grand scheme of things it’s probably just a phenomenal bit of detail in terms of terrain that evolves in real time with the plot, but now I’m so nervous waiting for the final arc of the show to kick in (not to mention that dang apocalypse ball that’s been under Whitestone for over sixty episodes) that I’m suspicious of everything. I’d like to roll an insight check on the grass, I guess is what I’m saying.

Mostly I love how much of the fun of this show comes from how much fun the players are clearly having—there was a moment where Sam just sort of laughed in disbelief and whispered, “Matt’s so fucking good.” That they’re still that enthusiastic about the show a couple years into filming three to five hours late on a work night every single week is just so contagious. What a cool phenomenon this show is.

The Hound and the Shadowcat

Originally posted by nalianova

I had a request for a tiny sworn guard of Dany’s catching the Hound’s eyes. I hope you like it


“Some say she was raised by the sigil of her house; that she is a shadowcat given human flesh.” Davos nodded to where you stood by Daenerys’s empty seat.

Sandor Clegane scoffed, “And some say I devour newborns every full moon.” His eyes betrayed his feigned disinterest as they fell upon the Queen’s Shadowcat. The Captain of her Queensguard.

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Try to Understand (pt. 5)

Characters: Alpha!Dean Smith, Omega!Reader, Omega!Charlie, Beta!Benny

Word Count: 3300-ish

Warnings: Language, drama with a bit of angst

A/N: This AU series was started for @dr-dean‘s A/B/O writing challenge, using the song “Magic Man” by Heart as a prompt. Many thanks as always to @roxy-davenport for being a great beta reader. This part picks up not long after part 4 left off. As always, I adore feedback and appreciate constructive criticism. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!

Reader’s thoughts are in italics

Part 4      Part 6

Originally posted by asharpisaflat



You snuggle into the pillow as you swing a leg out from under the covers, eager to feel the cool air. After a few seconds, you readjust the pillow again, trying to find a comfortable position with your sore muscles.

Another few minutes later, you roll over in the bed, kicking away the sheets. Your stomach aches with hunger, while the rest of you aches with a satisfied kind of soreness. You and Dean had barely left the bed for the last 36 hours as he helped you with your situation over and over again. A tiny groan slips from your throat as you stretch and turn, trying to find a new, cool spot to relax in. Eyes still closed, you pull one of your other pillows beneath your head, burying your nose in it and inhaling the strong Alpha scent that lingers.

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SnK Chapter 93 Poll Results

The chapter 93 poll closed with 1,143 entries. Can I start with a wow? With so many responses, this is going to be a long one.

RATE THE CHAPTER
(1024 responses)

The Marley Files continue to grow on us. 77% of respondents rated Chapter 93 very highly.

Best chapter I’ve ever reviewed in a while. I hope next month will deliver heavy stuff.

My Jaeger reunion hype was amplified by 3000 eggplants after this chapter

Loved the diversity in the new characters. Riener is so torn mentally & emotionally. I believe few more pages on the warrior are still needed before getting back to Paradise. I sense a glimpse of hope in escaping a doomed end. somebody will live & achieve freedom. who? hard to tell.

Everybody has different opinions about the plot, but I do not think anyone can argue about the art. Love this manga. Want to see Levi again!

I never imagined I could love these characters even more. Now I do. Bravo Isayama-sensei, I never felt so hyped for this chapter for the longest time!

Stop trying to make these new kids happen, Isayama. It’s not going to happen.

My interest in the manga is reaching an all time low with this focus on Marley. And it looks like we’ll still be there next month. I’m so done.

I haven’t minded these recent chapters, but I haven’t felt like I enjoyed them since its a virtually unknown cast. I did however enjoy chapter 93!

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10

Thanks for the +650 followers! love you guys, like alot! it makes my day read yours ask and tag uvu <3

Since this started it all, here is finally what happened… Bad kitty, you suppose to be friends, not scare them and scrath their faces. 

Fellwolve!Red by @sanspar / bunny!blue by @keksbela / kitty!sans by me

There’s a bonus in the keep reading…

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dating bakugo katsuki

Originally posted by jokers52re

dating katsuki bakugo?
let’s do it!


  • will struggle with the realization that he likes someone
  • won’t ever actually admit he likes them (at first) just says that he hates them the least
  • teases constantly, but it’s with less edge than when he picks on everyone else
  • won’t say anything if you call him Kacchan in private (will make him blush)
  • doesn’t really hold hands, instead he’ll sling his arm around his s/o’s shoulders or waist
  • makes sure that everyone knows they’re together
  • the public PDA is rare but when it’s just him and his s/o he actually likes to be close and snuggle, especially after a long day
  • someone messes with his s/o? they must have a death wish because he will find them, and he will kill them
  • he also blushes. a lot.

-Admin Ari

jealous | jughead jones x reader

Originally posted by beaniesxponytails

request

written by: rosie

edited by: rosie

anonymous said: could you write something where jughead’s jealous and by his anger start a fight with the reader. some possessive!jealous!jug😹 sorry, english isn’t my main language.

chapter song: candles / daughter

warnings: brushes on sexual assault

parties were never jugheads scene, like ever.

but tonight archie and the gang had dragged jughead away from his laptop and booth at pop’s long enough to convince him to attend one of cheryl’s infamous parties.

he was hard to convince until y/n’s name was brought into the conversation that she’d be in attendance tonight and he didn’t think twice before saying yes.

y/n was his best friend and he hadn’t seen her in awhile, she’d been arguing with betty & veronica so she had made herself vanish.

the argument stemmed from y/n spending an awful lot of time with cheryl blossom, and it didn’t sit well with anyone. everyone knew what cheryl was like, the wicked witch of riverdale.

so when her friends expressed their concern she snapped and well now this was the first time he’d hear her name come out of his friends mouth.

they all squished inside of archie’s truck and started the drive over to thornhill, their stomachs churning in both anticipation and caution.

the last party they attended one of the blossoms party was after homecoming and betty poured her heart out to archie only for him to be snatched up with a closet kiss.

it’s fair to say everyone was a bit on edge but none the less they were teenagers and they wanted every excuse to go out and drink.

he knew that y/n would already be inside

in cheryl’s room drinking wine coolers as the two of you try on outfit after outfit whilst the two of you had done each other’s makeup.

“juggie come on” the four of them clambered out of the small car and made their way up the stones steps and into the blossoms house.

music was pulsing through the house loud enough to feel your heart beating in your chest.

jughead searches the crowd for y/n as they group slide their way through the crowd and into the kitchen to get some beverages.

archie started to pour drinks and offered the brunette boy his own red solo cup.

he declined the offer not really big on the idea of drinking, he knew it clouded your judgement and he wasn’t big with parties anyway.

“c'mon jug!” they all whine

that’s when the music seemed to dim and loud wolf whistles and cheers seemed to echo through the house.

they all share glances before they turn and watch the two hottest girls in riverdale.

cheryl blossom & y/n y/l/n

but jughead wasn’t watching cheryl,

he watched as the girl moved down the stairs removing her linked arms with cheryl as she throws her hands up as the crowd cheers.

some of the contents from her solo cup spilling out, causing her to throw her head back a giggling senselessly.

“woah, y/n looks hot” kevin gawks at the group before shortly realising the others expressions.

jughead adverts his attention back to the girls and she skips a step the boy flinching as the girl trips.

only to be caught by mantle the magnificent.

“she’s wasted, again.” betty comments veronica shaking her head in response.

“what do you mean again?” jughead comments as he keeps his gaze on the drunken girl.

“apparently she’s been getting stupid drunk every weekend and fawning over the bull dogs” veronica says with disgust

“what has cheryl done to her” jughead mumbles under his breathe

y/n’s hands wrapping around reggie neck as he lifts her up carrying her down the remainder of the steps.

her dress riding up seemingly leaving nothing to the imagination. she’s was wasted at it wasn’t even nine o'clock.

reggie plants her down at the bottom of the stair case as she leans against him, placing a hot kisses on the jocks lips.

fury fuels the raven haired boy as he turns and takes the cup he’d turned down from archie and knocks it back in one swig.

the group grab a few more drinks before they head into the main room where the dance floor resides.

drunk horny kids grinding on top of each other as the music seems to grow louder and louder with each passing second.

“juggie!!!!!!”

the squeal of the y/h/c girl seemed to put every hair on his body on edge as she throws her arms around him tightly.

she smelt like tequila & strawberries

she pulls herself away from him to get a good look at his face before placing a kiss on his cheek.

he’s face heats up as she lets go wobbling her way over to the boys red headed best friend.

“archiebald!” she jumps on his waist and wraps her legs around him which causes veronica to shift uncomfortably.

“i missed you guys, sad breakfast club

she giggles and attempts to walk forward her feet failing her in the six inch heels she was sporting.

his reflects seemed to be more intact then the others as he catches the flailing girl.

the faces dangerously close

“you okay?” he whispers

the whole world seemed to slow as he stares into her beautiful eyes, her whole face lighting up with her smile.

he wanted her to kiss him to say those five little words that he’d imagined over and over

“there’s my little river vixen”

the jock stood tall, towering over jughead as he held y/n in his arms. worried about letting her go.

with one slight pull reggie snatches y/n up in his arms placing a sloppy kiss on her lips.

she moans in delight and wraps her hands around his neck, letting him lift her off the ground.

jughead reached for the girl knowing that whatever was happening with the two of them wouldn’t end well by the end of the night.

she shrivelled away like he was on fire, slapping at his wrist.

the alcohol over throwing her standards and seemingly her ability to say no, and mean it.

this made jughead furious, he grabbed betty’s hand and pulled her into the kitchen as he downed multiple of betty’s concoctions.

no longer than an hour later archie had given up beer pong and started to look for his friends.

managing to find all but his bestfriend.

he spots y/n on couch sandwiched between jason and reggie.

she was cradling her head and looked a little more sober than before but just as disoriented as before, maybe even worse.

he walks over and greets the boys

“andrews!” this causing the girl to look up, smiling foolishly.

“archiekins!” she mumbles almost incoherently, her head dropping back down like a dead weight.

he crouches down in front of the girl and places his hand under her chin lifting her head up.

“you want me to take you home?”

she shakes her head not uttering a word.

“andrews are you trying to steal my points?” he growls lifting up y/n’s long legs and drapes them over his lap.

sticking his tongue down her throat.

his attentions brought away from the dazed girl when a warm hand falls on his shoulder.

he turns to see his girlfriend looking down with concern. he stands upright and kisses her forehead.

“what’s wrong?” he questions worry in his voice.

“it’s jug” she turns and reveals betty and kevin struggling to hold up the brunette boy.

“jesus jug how much did you have to drink?!” he exclaims

“is he okay?” they four of the turn as y/n pushes herself out of reggie hold and off the couch.

her legs starting to wobble

“he’s fine” reggie moans pulling at her arm.

“reggie cut it out!” she snaps trying to listen to her bestfriend.

her head hammering and she felt sick creep up her throat as she notices reggie hands all over her body.

she was concerned for the boy she cared about. even if she couldn’t see straight.

“he’s fine y/n, im taking them home”

“im coming with you” she announces fixing her dresses before stepping toward jughead.

“yeah sure c'mon”

“no your not” reggie speaks

he grabs onto her arm but tries to pull herself free.

“im tired reggie im going with archie” she tries again to break free pleading for archie to say something

to help her

veronica looks up at her before likes she’s giving him the okay to bring their friend back where she belongs.

“reg c'mon ill take her home she needs sleep” archie moves away from the raven haired girl and over to y/n, taking the girls hand.

the boys stand from the couch moose on one side of y/n reggie on the other.

“what she needs a dose of vitamin me or maybe vitamin D?”

“c'mon arch just leave her”

the room falls quiet, turning as jughead stands on his own shaking his head at the girl shielded behind the almighty bulldogs.

“can we just leave?” he grumbles

the three friends glance at eachother before looking toward the boy in the beanie.

“sure jug let’s go y/n-” arch starts but jughead buts in, anger and alcohol coursing through his veins like wildfire.

“leave her, she wants to slut it up she can”

“jug-” she tries to push out of the boys grasp

“for fuck sake get your hands off me” she yells shoving out of their grasp and into archie’s.

but jughead had already left along with betty and kevin.

veronica pulls on archie’s arm and with a sad smile he disappears in the crowd.

ϟ

it didn’t take much long for y/n to get as drunk as she was before.

jughead’s words were echoing over & over in her head and she danced along the table top.

slut. slut. slut.

the music grows louder in her ears as her dress spins flaunting her body as the boys watch like hawks.

it didn’t take long for one of them to take the plunge, it was chuck.

he moved quickly and swiftly when y/n had slipped on some split vodka and landing into the boys strong arms.

he’d offered to take her up to one of the many bedrooms in thornhill to give her water and put her to bed.

call her naive to figure that what chuck had said was his word not that he was just trying to get her alone.

she’d fled from his arms and jumped face first onto the huge king sized bed.

groaning as the silk sheets cool her hot body, tossing as the lace of her dress lifts revealing her almost naked body.

chuck locks the door and licks his lips as he waltzes over to the girl, he’s fingers dancing on her burning skin.

she lets out a giggling allowing the boy to slip his hands up her skirt connecting his lips with hers.

until his fingers brush against her core, she grabs at his wrist and pulls his hand away.

“chuck no”

“baby it’s okay”

he moves his other hand toward her body but she smacks him away.

she goes to move from the bed but he pins her down kissing along her neck.

she squirms tears pricking her eyes as she realises she’s lost control.

she tries to call out but he slaps her causing her to fall into silence before she brings her knee into his crouch.

just as the door swings open revealing reggie and some random blonde.

it doesn’t take an idiot to read the situation and in less than an instant reggie ditches the bimbo and races to y/n’s aid.

she sobs uncontrollably as the jock tucks her under his arms hustling her out of the bedroom and into the driveway.

once outside so rushes from his embrace scrambling for her phone to call the one person she needed to see,

“y/n im just trying to help”

she shakes her heard praying he’ll pick up

“… y/n..”

jughead voice croaks through the speaker

her cries fill the phone as she stumbles with her words not being able to string together a sentence.

“i-i n-ee-d y-y-ou”

she drops to the floor and reggie rushes over taking the phone from her grasp as he fills the worried boy in.

and within 10 minutes archie’s truck headlights were shining onto y/n’s tear stained face as she leans against reggie, his coat draped over her cool body.

jughead flies out of the car before archie has the time to park.

his feet pounding on the pavement as he runs toward the girl, bending down to meet her gaze.

mascara staining her face.

guilt on his

reggie stands pulling her up with him as jughead slides his hand around her waist pulling her weight onto his.

and with that she’s hustled into the truck and into the andrews house, careful to not wake archie’s dad.

they two boys had carried her up and into archie’s room placing her down on the bed.

she looked like she’d seen a ghost and hadn’t utter a word about her cry for help.

they barley knew what had happened. only what reggie had told them briefly over the phone

“here’s some clothes and a towel- have a shower you’ll feel better”

archie offers hand over a shirt of jugheads and a bath towel, a sad smile on his pale face.

“thanks” she mutters lowly walking slowly toward the bathroom her hand hammering as the room seems to spin.

after a short lived steaming hot shower she dresses herself in the clothes provided and steps out of the small bathroom.

jumping as she notices jughead slumped against the wall, waiting for you.

he stands quickly burying his hands in his hair,

“you look good in my shirt”

she looks at him glumly

overwhelmingly sober.

she walks away but jughead rushes to stand infront of her placing a hand on her shoulder.

“jug-”

“im sorry”

she stops, allowing herself to stop and breathe for the first time tonight.

she lets the boy slide his hand down her arm and intertwine with hers, as he tugs her to face him.

“im so sorry y/n, for what a said, for leaving you at that party with those scum-”

she shakes her head placing a comforting hand on his chest

“it’s not your fault jug, i shouldn’t have gotten that drunk”

her voice seems to crack, tears stinging her e/c eyes.

“drunk or not he shouldn’t of taken advantage of you y/n"

tears fall from the girl’s eyes

“i know”

the boys heart clenches, as he wraps his arms around the shaking girl. letting her rest her head on his aching chest.

“i didn’t mean what i said- i was drunk and jealous-”

“jug everyone says stupid shit when they’re drunk- wait jealous? why would you be jealous?”

her eyes widen, pulling back from his embrace to study his face.

“you and reggie- i just” he stops running a hand through his knotted hair

“i wanted it to be me, not him” he concludes, a sadness dawning on his features.

“i wanted it to be you too-”

and with that she leans forward connecting her lips with his in one beautiful moment.

“let’s get you to bed” he whispers taking the girl’s hand as they walk into archie’s room.

she slides into the bed the flannelette sheets warming her bare skin.

he tucks her in, her eyes starting to droop as tiredness begins to kick in.

“goodnight” he mumbles placing a small kiss on the crown of her head.

he turns and heads toward the door when she shifts in the bed propping herself up on her elbows.

“stay.”

tag list: @hauntedcherryblossombanana-blog @sadbreakfastclb @jugandbettsdetectiveagency @kindfloweroflove @fragilefrances @mydelightfulcollectiontyphoon @onceuponagladerhead @natalieroseg @mhysaofdrxgons @hiimalyssawriter @riverdalemami

summerhlm  asked:

Help? I am looking for some long (40K+) Hermione/Severus fanfics, preferable complete. A slow burn that makes your heart yearn and stop, but they don't fall too far out of character. *BONUS* If you know some, one without a happy ending or one that leaves you to decide (complete though)

Sorry I took so long on getting to your ask.  I have been busy lately, but I am here with a list of goodies that I hope you enjoy.  With each title I have put down the author’s summary.

  • The Master, the Warden, the Headmaster and the Deputy By: mak5258
    • Snape and Dumbledore enact an old tradition in the castle, hoping to gain a much-needed edge. More-or-less AU starting at book 6.
  • Mutual healing By: Sybilla.Slytherin  (it’s 4k less than 40K)
    • The Second Wizarding War is over and everyone is getting on with their lives. Severus Snape finds himself lacking a physical voice due to the damage to his throat, yet gains a surprising friendship in a young woman half his age but very much his equal in intellect. A tale of friendship, understanding and intimacy between two people.
  • Pride of Time By: Anubis Ankh (First Story)
    • Hermione quite literally crashes her way back through time by roughly twenty years. There is no going back; the only way is to go forward. And when one unwittingly interferes with time, what one expects may not be what time finds…
  • Divide of Time By: Anubis Ankh (Second Story)
    • Begins at chapter 31 of Pride-of-Time. Hermione does not de-age herself- not everything can be fixed in time, and sometimes the only solution is to move forward with what you have…
  • Brave New World By: patriciatepes
    • Voldemort arrived at Malfoy Manor quicker than expected, and like that, the war was over.  Now, Hermione is Snape’s “assigned companion,” and as determined as ever to stop Voldemort and save her friends.  But that’s hard to do in Voldemort’s new world…
  • The Gilded Cage By: ApollinaV
    • Clever Miss Hermione Granger believes that by marrying Azkaban prisoner 11652 she can effectively skirt the new Ministry Marriage Law requirements.
  • World Enough and Time By: lena1987
    • Starting with a letter found in his bedside table when he assumes the role of Headmaster in 1997, Severus Snape and Hermione Granger begin a strange correspondence. The new Headmaster is glad for the comfort of a confidant, but Hermione has just one problem: it’s the end of 1998, and Professor Severus Snape has been dead for months. A story of time and second chances.
  • Forged in Flames By: MsWhich
    • In her last year at Hogwarts, Hermione and her Potions professor find themselves forced into a situation that neither of them wanted…but that will ultimately change not only the course of the war but their feelings for each other. AU.
A (bread)piece of Your Heart

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Fandom: Spider-Man: Homecoming

Wordcount: 2191

Warnings: None

Summary: You are working part time at Delmar’s Deli and developed a crush on Peter Parker who’s a regular customer. Mr. Delmar thinks it’s finally time that you stepped up your game and ask him out.

Notes: Okay, i have to confess something here. This story was on a different tumblr blog of mine, but only because I thought people would be annoyed if i posted something different then Uncharted or other video-games. So, now that I see that my last fanfic has so many notes (150+ in one day HOLY SHIT) I present to you my other one :-). Enjoy!

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Happy Birthday Jason Todd

This was requested for Jason Todd/Red Hood’s birthday (8/16). Enjoy y’all!

Summary: It’s Jason Todd’s birthday; having died and come back, he doesn’t celebrate it - despite teh wishes the every other friend and member of the Bat Family. While he’s on patrol, you set up a little something.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader 
Warning: none. All the fluff! 

 I Don’t Do Birthdays

Having died and come back, and nearly died a few dozen times for good measure, Jason had no intention of celebrating his birthday. It was just a day on the calendar. A hot, muggy, swampy day in Gotham. As far as he was concerned there wasn’t a god-damned thing that was special about August 16.  At least that was his plan.

Yours…not so much.

He’d gone out on patrol hours earlier. Not that you could’ve convinced him otherwise without resorting to drastic measures. He didn’t bat an eye when you kissed him on the cheek and said you were going to stay in - your combat suit needed some mending anyway. Or so you told him. Alfred was a practically the patron saint of the Batfamily.  

You weren’t entirely sure how much time had passed between when you baked the cake and when you realized the stove was still on. But grazing the side of your hand on a hot burner had slowed your progress slightly. “Bloody fecking…god…”you cursed under your breath, eyes full of fire as you wrapped your palm in silver-sulfadiazine cream and burn gauze. Might not have been bad but it hurt like hell.

He’d gone out at midnight and swore to be back by three - it was one thirty according to your oven clock. Burn aside, that left you with just enough time to set out the small gift you’d gotten him and frost the cake once it finished cooling. First, however, you made sure the rest of the appliances were off. Would do you no good to burn down the apartment building. You could practically hear Jason tease you about yet another kitchen injury. “You fight with knives, use kunai and shuriken. Not a scratch, slice bread, twenty stitches,” he’d said once.

“There,” you smiled, with thirty minutes left as you arranged the cake on the breakfast counter opposite the stove. “Perfect.” There was one candle for each year and one for good luck - your mother’s tradition.

“I hate all of you,” Jason growled at his adoptive siblings. They were supposed to be out on patrol, not half celebrating his birthday. There were no cakes, no big presents (thank god) but still cards and that godforsaken song! At least Barbara could carry a tune. The others…he was sure his ears were bleeding as they caterwauled through Happy Birthday.

He heavily regretted his decision to go on patrol tonight.

“You love us,” Dick practically taunted, smiling broadly at his younger brother.

“Up for debate,” he snapped back arms folded over his chest.

Damian asked, “You’re still a child Todd.” He was sure Barbara had threatened him or something to get the demon spawn to participate. “Age doesn’t make you a man,” the boy mocked him.

Jason repeated to himself: I will not kill the brat. I will not kill the brat. [Y/n] would not be pleased. After a moment he said aloud, through gritted teeth as Tim proceeded with the annual birthday punches, “Old enough to make your life a nightmare.”

“And one for good luck,” Tim said triumphantly, hitting his arm a final time. At least it had been Tim this year. Barbara and Dick had both left bruises. Then again, Barbara’s turn had been his first birthday back and he was sure she wanted to kill him a second time out of spite. And Dick’s had been the  subsequent year, they’d been fighting so he was probably getting some kind of revenge. [Y/n] had declined to be the assailant last year and he’d thanked god you stated as much. He was sure you’d have hit him hard just for shits and giggles.

And he’d have let you.

He groaned loudly, “Yay. I’m another year older. Whoopdey fucking doo.”

“Language,” Barbara shot, glaring at him. Damian shrugged. He really couldn’t have cared less. The others had all heard worse. “So what are your plans,” she asked after a moment.

Before he could answer Tim suggested, “Nothing. He never does anything.”

“A proud Todd - [Y/L/N] tradition for August 16,” he chuckled, sporting a thumbs up instead of the middle-finger he wanted to give them. He could see your face if he did - scrunched up even under the domino mask with your brow furrowed and eyes narrowed at him. It was a look he’d seen you give dozens of rogues and their thugs. You’d used it on him a few times, like on patrol, it frightened no one. In fact, he thought it was kinda cute.

Dick waved a hand in front of his face, well, the helmet. “Dude, hello, earth to Jason. Did you hear me?”

“No. Clearly.”

“Do you want to go back to the Manor and do something? Bruce is out on patrol, so’s Helena,” he said, “Not like we or Alfred couldn’t make you a cake and we could just…”

Cutting him off Jason countered, “Or, I can go home. You guys can do whatever. And we can all pretend this never happened. Yea, I’m good with that one.” As the other four started to argue, listing off the merits of celebrating his birthday - they did every year - he took off. 

They wouldn’t follow him, they knew better.This was one of a handful of days that egging on the Red Hood was a poorer choice than usual.

“Babe, what’s…what’s this,” Jason’s voice echoed. For a minute you thought it was you mind playing tricks, then you realized you’d fallen asleep on the couch.

Groggily, you sat up. Rubbing the sleep out of you eyes you could see him staring at the table. Helmet beside the cake, eyes narrowed - from the side you could tell he wasn’t pleased with the turn of events. “Cake,” you said.

“And this,” he held up the box next to it.

Waving him on you said, “For you. Open it.” There was no wrapping paper, no ribbon, it was a re-purposed jewelry store bracelet box. Simple.

Jason looked between you and the box, too exhausted to argue. If nothing else, you at least weren’t trying to celebrate his birthday for your own enjoyment. The same couldn’t have been said for his siblings – even Barbara. Sighing, he set the box down for a minute, “[Y/n] you know how I feel about this.”

“Humor me Jaybird,” you said, the soft smile that he could never refuse spreading across your face. He felt less on edge as he worked off his gloves and jacket.

“Only because it’s you,” he said tossing his jacket over the back of a chair and picking up the box. He almost dreaded opening it as he inspected the plain white box for a moment. He was relieved that you hadn’t wrapped it or done anything of things you’d done to Damian. 

Granted he did remember the most recent of the demon spawn’s birthdays. You’d wrapped his gift in not one but twelve layers of wrapping paper. It hadn’t even been all wrapping paper – most of it had been more substantial things like duct tape and heavy duty posters. Even Bruce had gotten a kick out of the kid’s reaction to each layer and the snarky messages on them.

Today, however, two small pieces of tape were all that held the box lid closed. Nothing complicated.

Slicing the tape with his thumb, he pushed off the box’s lid. Sitting on a piece of gauze was a note, roughly the dimensions of the box. “Who complains about cake? No one. Mmm…cake!” He laughed, picking up the paper. Underneath there were several small bags, like the ones jewelers put rings or earrings in after repairs, filled with glitter. On the back of the note, in glitter pen (because of course), you’d written, “And glitter bombs to send the others.” There was one for each Bat-kid and even one for Bruce. “PS. I love you.” Underneath the bags was also a flattened piece of metal, about the size of a military ID tag.

Lifting it out his eyes caught the engraving on it, stamping really – like one of those souvenir pennies. On one side was his name and date and place of birth. On the other, the date he returned to Gotham as the Red Hood; that side was done in a stronger, deeper engraving style than the other. “What’s this,” He asked, looking skeptically at you.

“Well,” you said, finally standing up from the couch. Crossing to him, you rested your hands on his shoulders. “You take on too much love, this is a reminder. A token to keep you in the present.” One of your hand wandered to his cheek. Thumbs stroking those cheekbones and the little bit of stubble starting to come in you added softy,  “I don’t want to lose you again.”  Referring back to the days and weeks surrounding his death was always touchy. 

He smiled, looking at the piece of metal in his hand then turned to you. “You do that every day beautiful,” the grin was practically ear to ear as he seized you up in a kiss.

A Olicity Historical Romance AU: Touch can be so much more than just, physical.

A/N: There are quite a few flashbacks of dialog and scenes in this final chapter so I have made them italicized and bold.

Thank you all so much for reading my story and caring for and loving my AU Olicity.  This version of them was especially poignant to write and are extra special to me.  And one last thank you to @quiveringbunny for the gorgeous cover art she made for it. xoxo

You can read previous chapters HERE and AO3.

~~~~~~~

Chapter 6

Oliver had taken his mother to London knowing she would enjoy the end of the season, to be around friends and society, instead of the isolation of their ancestral home in Devonshire, which is where he was headed next.

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Cassandra Pentaghast - Sneaking up on Cassandra Pentaghast, the Seeker, the woman of nails required a will of iron. And a death wish. She’d be training, as she usually is. Sword swinging, sweat dripping down in her face. Most questioned why she trained fully clothed, in her armor, when most would at least strip down a layer of armor. But she liked the challenge, the weight on her shoulders, back and chest. It was a game she used to play with Antony, seeing how fast you could move with metal weighing you down. Surely, if he were here, he would be proud to see that she hit almost as fast as a rouge. As previously mentioned, one would have a death wish if they planned on sneaking up on her. The Inquisitor moved fast, just barely dodging the sword that would swing around. Her eyes would be sharp, lips thin and taut. The expression would melt away, shock replacing it. Then distaste. “Inquisitor, please, announce when you are- Oh!” The shock of lifting her up and off her feet would bring that shock back to her face. Her eyes would be wide, feet dangling. She had received hugs before, but not one so…tight. Her armor kept her lungs safe though, and her feet would gently touch the ground. She’d be at a lost for words, cheeks slightly red, expression confused. “It is…good to see you to Inquisitor. But if you have time to waste, you can train with me.” Poor, poor Inquisitor.

Cassandra Pentaghast (Romanced) - She would be less on edge when training. Not so intense, training out of habit and not necessity now. She would not be so quick to whirl around, sword raised, but she would turn sharply, face curious at the approaching steps. And then she would smile, slowly and small, but a smile none the less. The Inquisitor visited more and more, exchanging small flirtations, or simply wanting to talk. Occasionally, he would manage to convince her to step away from her vigorous training regiment to gently press soft kisses on her face, lips and hands. By the look in there eyes, this would be one of those times. She was already setting her sword to the side, but squeaked when her feet were clearly no longer touching the ground. The woman was no common maiden but her cheeks would be red as she was held close to his warm chest, The Inquisitors chest. Shame would heat her ears. People could see! But the soft kiss on her lips would melt away her worries and she’d bury her face into his neck, whispering a soft half hearted insult.

Solas - Most did not linger in his room, the silent and intelligent elf occasionally intimidating, peculiar or odd. That, and no one felt so calm around him, the mysterious out of nowhere individual who had made his way into the Inquisitor’s inner circle with his intelligence and words alone. When he hears feet lingering, though, his eyes would slowly rise. The Inquisitor. A friend, someone he didn’t need to don a cold appearance to. He would rise, bare feet padding on the stone floor. “How may I be of assistance?” A simple one. one that did not warrant a hug. He would panic, for a moment, but he would soon relax as he was squeezed gently. He’d grunt softly, gently patting their chest until he was put down. His eyes would be curious, cautious as he raised an eye brow. “Inquisitor, I don’t need to point out how odd it would be if one of your staff saw you embracing the elf.” If an elf he would say ‘the apostate’, if an elven mage he’d simply continue looking on with curiosity. Once the Inquisitor left, he would smile ever so slightly, fondly, sitting back down at his seat.

Solas (Romanced) - The fade was a beautiful place. A place away from prying eyes and prying people. If a mage, it would be a simple thing to find her and pull her to the dream like Haven, suspended in a timeless and beautiful sunset, if not, he would tug her slowly out of her dreams, pulling her into his arms. The silence that would reign would be a warm one, eyes gently regarding each other, lips twinged ever so slightly. He would not be surprised as he felt the artificial gravity changing and shifting and he’d chuckle, happily going into her more than capable arms. She’d huff, coaxing his legs around her waist and arms around her neck and just like that she’d carry him around. He found it charming, really. And it was no negative that it kept them close and warm in this fake haven. He would close his eyes, pressing a soft kiss against her neck as she chattered on about stuffy nobles or annoyances in her travels or business as Inquisitor.

Varric - It had to be some sort of unspoken rule, don’t pick up a dwarf. It’s belittling. Hah, that one was good. But still, it was considered disrespectful. But did the Inquisitor care? Of course not. Breaking social laws when you make them came hand in hand. The hearth would be alight, warming his hands and toes. He was used to the clomp, patter and tap of feet as they passed by, his current station in the main hall made sure of that. But when he heard those feet coming towards him, it could only be Hawke or the Inquisitor. He turned on his heel, a smile curling on his lips. And then he’d see the arms. No. Oh no. The humanity. Being so far off the ground gave him a bit of vertigo, but the totally un-amused expression on his face hid it. “Haha. Very funny. Picking on the dwarf because of his height. That’s nice and all, but I enjoy the ground Inquisitor, and I’m sure you like having clean clothes. You should put me down before we both regret it.” With record pace he was set down. A smile would tug at his lips and a soft chuckle in his throat though , of course, as he waved the Inquisitor off.

Vivienne - Now if the Inquisitor didn’t have a death wish with Cassandra, they surely had a death wish now. It was easy to find the woman, sitting at her balcony, sipping on wine and talking to some Duchess of where ever and a Duke from how come, to the Inquisitor the only who that mattered was Vivienne. They’d probably loose their steam half way through, watching her eyes flick over to them. They’d slow their pace, lips going from their wide smile to a smaller, more nervous smile. “Hello Darling. There you are, I’ve been looking for you. Madame, Ser, if you do not mind.” She’d wave them both off, her polite smile turning into her sharp one, a chuckle leaving her lips. “The woman got her title from buying it, not earning it, and he is no nobleman. A merchant who knows how to primp himself, surely, but no nobleman. I wasn’t truly looking for you, just looking for an excuse. What do you need, Darling?” They’d hesitate, hands twitching. Well, it’s now or never. The Inquisitor would lunge forward, holding the woman to their chest. And then they’d lift her up, giving a small twirl. And then they’d slowly set her back down. Fear, anticipation and regret would thrum in their ears but then, oh. She was smiling. “Yes yes Darling I’m happy to see you too. But such affections should be saved for the private company of friends, not outside in the open for all to see. I trust you will not make this mistake again?” Her eyes would go hard, lips thinned and eyebrows raised. Just happy to be escaping with their lives, they would nod and be off on their way to their next hugging victim. Vivienne would watch, silent, eyes going warm before she returned to her wine.

Iron Bull - Truly the Inquisitors biggest challenge yet. Literally. The Iron Bull was a man who could surely weigh up to a druffalo, and being on the receiving end of bear hugs ends today. They would walk into the Tavern, a stride in their step and a thrill of anticipation would curl down their back. They’d stand their, arms crossed, gazing down at the Iron Bull. “Bull, I want a hug.” The Inquisitor would say, a smile curling on their lips. Who was the man to deny such a sweet request. He’d rise from his chair, chuckling deeply as he opened his arms, prepared to lift them off their feet. But then he would grunt, deep and breathless as he felt the most crushing hold on his chest. And then he gasped. The last time he had been off his feet was when a dragon had knocked him clear across a field. But this was not a dragon. His hands would fall to their shoulders, holding on tight, grinning wide as he watched their feet step back shakily. He expected to be dropped right on his ass. But their feet stood still. Their knees stopped shaking. And they stood perfectly still, nuzzling him. Nuzzling. The Tavern was dead silent. And then righteous applause, screams even. The shout he’d give as well would be the loudest, a deep and rumbling laugh would leave him. The Inquisitors red, yet proud face would be the most endearing thing he’s seen since Krem woke up with a cow lick.

Iron Bull (Romanced) - It was usually Bull in charge. The man was naturally dominant, what could he say? But the Inquisitor had something else in mind today. They would wander into the Tavern, eyes flitting around until they landed on the large grey mass. Weaving through the masses to his true goal was an easy task and they would smile. “Come with me?” They’d say softly, and Bull’s friendly exterior would melt, a warm chuckle on his lips. “Of course, Kadan.” From there most knew to get out of the way, and get the closest ear plugs they could. The trek to the Inquisitors room was one that was welcome, adding to the tension, to the silent foreplay of their eyes raking over one another. Once in the room, the Inquisitor would be quick, grabbing Bull’s thighs with a soft grunt and lifting him up, pressing him against the wall. The Iron Bull? His eyes would be wide, blinking slowly. And then he’d grin. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Alright. I’ll make you work for it, though.” The entirety of the Inquisition would weep, for no one got sleep that night,

Sera - She would be in her room, easy to find, mumbling softly as she fiddled with a jar. She’d snap to attention when she heard someone enter the room, throwing the jar out the window with a half innocent smile. Screeches could be heard and a faint buzzing. “Wasn’t me. Gravity done did it. Not me.” She’d say, predicting some sort of lecture. But all the Inquisitor could do was give a deep sigh and a fond smile. She’d then get suspicious. But her suspicious would turn into wheezing because she should not be so far off the ground. A wheezy chuckle would leave her lips and she would kick her feet back and forth, demanding to be put down. They do exactly that. Her bum hits the ground with a thump and she hisses, blinking. “Okay okay. Guess I deserved that.” Her smile would be contagious and warm and the Inquisitor would smile right back. 

Sera (Romanced) - Up to no good, as always. She wouldn’t be quick to react or jump. Most knew not to come into her room unless they wanted to get a prank or two. But Inky? Well, they were always welcome. She turned on her heel, shaking the jar of bees in her hand and a manic grin curled on her lips. “Ya up for som- Oh! Oh. Hehehe.” She’d let her feet dangle, and she would gently throw the jar onto a stack of pillows she ‘borrowed’. Thin arms would wrap around her neck and she’d press a soft kiss against the Inquisitors lips, sighing softly. “If ya wanted some sugar you could have just asked for some. Near got a face full a bees!” The Inquisitor would huff, showering her with kisses and dragging her off to the roof, where they could sit and cuddle. 

Blackwall - The man had claimed the barn as his own, his place of sleep, his place of wood work and his place of relaxation. He had somehow ended up having it all to himself, though that was not his intention. He wanted to make it clear that he was a soldier like any other. But of course, only special treatment for the Inquisitor’s inner circle. Speaking of the devil, the person in question would saunter in. He’d smile, dusting himself off as he walked over slowly. He’d open his mouth to address them, but well, he didn’t get much of a choice. He was a heavy man, muscle and body wise, but the Inquisitor proved to be more strong than that. He coughed softly, face going red as he dangled for a moment. “Well. Ehem. Hello to you too, Inquisitor.” His feet hit the floor, looking on with a half smile. The Inquisitor would be pleased with that, grinning.

Blackwall (Romanced) - The barn had become more than just his lodging. It had become a memory, a reminder of the night he did his biggest wish and largest regret. Now that he thinks about it, it was foolish. Anyone could have walked in. He shook his head at the thought, grunting softly. But he would be knocked out of his thoughts, eyes slowly turning as he heard the foot steps. Say her name, and she comes. “My lady.” He murmured, already heading over to lure her into a hug or a kiss. And he got exactly that. He blinked, though, because she had a hold of his wrists, he wasn’t able to take control. He watched curiously, his back hitting the wall. And she lifted him up. His face went red, a deep and hearty chuckle left his lips. His legs rested on her waist, an arm slung around her shoulder, and the kiss was soft and light. He’d have it no other way.

Cole -  “Warm, soft and safe, in your arms they can’t hurt, in your arms they are safe. They would have to bend and break your fingers, destroy and shatter the bone. You want to protect us, you want us to be happy, you love us. You want a hug. I would like one too.” The Inquisitor would smile, eyes slightly sad as they picked the boy up. He felt frail, thin. It worried them as they gently rocked on their feet. Cole’s ghostly arms slid around them, giving a warm hug. He said softly, eyes downcast. “You do not need to worry. We are safe. You keep us safe. You help. And we love you too.” The Inquisitor isn’t crying, your crying.

Dorian Pavus - Ah, the pursuit of knowledge. Truly a noble pursuit, really, one of the few out there that remained forever in the ambiguous grey area. You could read to learn how to fight, cook, to kill, to pray, to debate or to help you with a particularly troublesome blister on your arse. And where was Dorian? In the library, of course. His fingers skimmed over the titles, occasionally sighing or rolling his eyes. Truly, the Inquisitor didn’t read these? They were all so…dull. And uninformative. Really, they had to have their own special collection hidden away in that room of there’s because no one but a Free Marcher would pass this off as readable. He heard footsteps, but paid them no mind, continuing his browsing, fingers being wretched away and was that the ground with his feet not on it? Why, yes it was. He noticed the awful beige color of his kidnapper and he chuckled. “Oh my. A poorly dressed brute is carrying me off. Someone, help.” The Inquisitor chuckled, setting him back down. “Predictable. No one helped. My captor themselves had to set me free! Very predictable.” He shot Mother Giselle a look, turning back to his reading.  

Dorian Pavus (Romanced) - Reading had become a lot more complicated now a days. Not because he had lost his will to study, of course not, knowledge was power and he wanted that as much as he wanted gels for his hair and mustache. But, his mind had been on other things. Other someones. An other someone. The Inquisitor. The man was truly something to marvel at, muscle and charm. He sighed softly, holding a hand to his chin. He didn’t even notice, didn’t even hear his approach. The Inquisitor pressed against him and he chuckled, pressing right back. “Oh my. Is that a staff or are you happy to see me?” He would purr, head tipping back for the softest of kisses to the Inquisitors chin. He predicted the next part, feet being swept off the ground, an arm under his knees and one on his back. He laughed heartily, eyes twinkling. “Sweeping me off of my feet like a maiden? I’m already deflowered, you know, your fault of course.” Mother Giselle’s poor eyes. 

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Notes: @real-life-dragon-age-trash Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you! This was a pleasure to write. Took me an hour. loved this prompt. Love you.