anonymous asked:

Rosehip and strawberry??

Rosehip tea: Which book did you love when you were younger?

I grew up on a steady diet of fantasy novels.  My favorite was probably Magic’s Pawn by Mercedes Lackey.  I loved that whole trilogy honestly (The Last Herald Mage).  Though I also love The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C. Wrede– at least the first three – with my favorite of those being the second one, Searching for Dragons.

Strawberry tea: Tell me about your first kiss, if you had one.

I don’t actually remember my first first kiss.  I remember all the other first kisses, but not the first first one… probably because he was a BAD kisser in general.

My second first kiss was with a university baseball player while I was in high school.  Pushed up against the wall of a movie theater for a movie that we weren’t going to watch (we snuck in).  He was an incredibly good kisser.  He also just wanted to get me into bed, so, yeah, that was about the extent of it.

My third first kiss… there were legit fireworks that started going off.  Never take fireworks during a kiss as evidence of forever because yeah.  Dated for years, we were practically engaged and then he cheated on me with a girl about to enter the convent.  So…. yeah.

My fourth first kiss…. a little awkward, but very sweet.  I had realized halfway through dinner that I was on a date with this guy.  We were friends.  He asked me to go get Italian food with him.  My roommate made me change because “that is not what you wear on a date.” My response: “it’s not a date, he just wants to eat some pasta because the poor thing can’t ever have gluten” (his roommate had Celiac).   But yeah.  Totally a date.  Texted my sister when he excused himself and was all “o.O I’m on a date?”  “With who?”  “HOW AM I ON A DATE?”
Anyway, he walked me home and was so so so intense and sweet… It’s my favorite first kiss story… because that was Io.

Imagine the first time John and Sherlock hug romantically.

John’s arms slowly wrapping around Sherlock’s waist, tightening as he draws Sherlock closer.

Sherlock’s arms draped over John’s shoulders, clinging to him.

Eyes closed, foreheads together, just breathing each other in, until finally they move simultaneously, and lips finally meet.

anonymous asked:

how about heaven telling Cas he will have to stay with Kelly and raise the child together and when Dean finds out, well you can guess he will no take the news really great??

“Since when did you start taking orders again?” Dean asked. He was sitting, planted at a table, half turned in his chair, elbow propped up on the back of it.

Cas shook his head. There was a lump in his throat, but he couldn’t seem to swallow it. “It’s not an order, Dean, it’s a request. If I do it, the slate’ll be wiped clean. I’ll be right with heaven again. I won’t have to run. It’s a good thing.”

“Yeah, sounds real good.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, you get the little hellspawn on your hip, and then what? What do you even know about raising a baby?”

“I’ll learn,” he said without conviction.

“You’ll learn… how to raise the devil’s baby… all by yourself.”

“Not raise, protect. And I’ll only be by myself if Kelly doesn’t make it through the birth.”

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whatismodernart  asked:

Can you please do this valentines day prompt? ❤ "You should be kissed and kissed often and by someone who knows how."

This was such a fun prompt to work with, Hannah! Also on ao3!

Stiles had a less than amazing dating history. To be completely honest, it was actually rather horrible.

Since he had started college, no longer stuck in classes with the same people who had condemned him to being the weird nerdy kid who couldn’t shut up to save his life, Stiles had blossomed. He was more confident, more outgoing, more self-assured. He was less self-conscious, comfortable enough to voice his opinions and flaunt his interests without fear of being ridiculed.

His newfound confidence even translated to his more romantic endeavors. He was no longer petrified of rejection, learning to hope for the best instead of anticipating for the the absolute worst.

When he met someone he found attractive or interesting, instead of convincing himself that they were way out of his league, he would focus on all of the potential possibilities. He would contemplate how nice a potential relationship, all the fun new things he could experience.

But while he was living college life to the fullest, partying with his classmates every weekend and going out on dates with anyone who asked or whoever Erica set him up with, he learned a very harsh truth. He had a habit of going out with complete assholes.

First, there had been Rob, a guy from his AP History class who had dreams of becoming a pro baseball player. He had been a charmer, constantly flirting with Stiles in the days leading up to their first date, always greeting him in class with a smirk and a wink.

He was a nice enough guy, that Stiles could concede, but he was also kind of a dick. With a wandering eye to boot. Every time they went out, without fail, he would end up paying more attention to their waiter’s ass than Stiles’ stories.

Stiles had finally broken things off when he caught Rob red-handed, shamelessly ogling Boyd while he and Stiles were on a double date with Erica and Boyd. He had nearly emptied his illegally gotten beer over Rob’s head in the middle of the restaurant. It was only because he didn’t want to make a scene that he managed to refrain, though later Erica advised him that he really should have just done it anyway.

After Rob, Stiles started dating a girl that Erica set him up with, a pretty brunette from another college name Ashlee whose biggest pet peeve was when spelled her name wrong. As someone who could relate, his nickname Stiles only a necessity because his first name was a nightmare to spell or even simply pronounce for most English speakers, Stiles hit it off with her from the get-go.

She was a philosophy major, a big fan of the Hobbesian theory of government, and absolutely adored playing the new Fallout game. They went on several dates, mostly to parties where they both danced terribly and got shitfaced on cheap whiskey that someone had bought with their obviously fake ID.

She gave him his first handjob, in the Jeep in front of her dorm building while Stiles dropped her off from one of their dates. She had slipped her hand down his pants after dinner at a local diner as they clumsily kissed. He came in his pants after just a few light strokes, face flushing as he apologized for coming so fast, a jolt of embarrassment shooting through him.

She had shut him up with a kiss and promised that next time he could get her off, winking seductively as she climbed out of the Jeep to jog up the walk to her building. But Stiles never got the chance. He found out a few days later that she was seeing two other guys in addition to himself. He had ended things on the spot.

After taking a few weeks to get over Ashlee, he had gone out with a guy from his English 101 class, the one he had fantasized about sleeping with a few times. His name was Andrew, spelled the usual way, and he was very easily one of the most seductive people Stiles had ever met in his nineteen years of life, with his easy grins and gorgeous blue eyes.

They dated for a couple weeks, Stiles performing his first blow job on him in his dorm, relying on years of watching porn to influence his technique, moaning obnoxiously a few times the way he had seen in pornos too many times. Andrew seemed to appreciate it, fisting a hand in Stiles’ hair to buck up into his mouth as he grunted, loud and crude, before finally coming.

He got dumped the following day. Andrew had claimed he just wanted a quick fuck, not some clingy boyfriend. Stiles had been pissed, drowning his woes in a bottle of booze and flooding the pack group chat with rants about how much of a jackass Andrew was.

It all dissolved into a series of half-assed dates after that, Stiles no longer caring enough to remember all of their names. Almost all of them turned out to be jerks in the end, anyway.

But there was a silver lining in the midst of all his dating sorrows. Derek.

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