even though it's a little long

4

@justlikecpparadise asked:

plz draw our fav boyz in yoga poses thank, also looking out for that hc you said you’d be making ;) lol

MERCEDES MY GIRL U GAVE ME SOME GOOD INSPO

bitty’s SUPER limber bc of the whole figure skating/hockey league thing, and sometimes jack thinks it’s going to be the death of him

7

2000+ Followers Gift - Part 1

Ok, ok. I won’t make this too long because I suck at being sentimental and stuff, but thank you so so much for 2000 followers. Even though I don’t deserve it, it means the world to me that people actually like this blog and its inconsistent content. <3

Info

DOWNLOAD (Simfileshare)

Meshes

Sleek Puff Pony - @femmeonamissionsims

Braid Updo - @shespeakssimlish

Charlie - @wildlyminiaturesandwich

Estelle - @grimcookies

Thank you to all of the creators!

3

a lock yourself out drabble inspired by these tfln

“Baaaabyyyyy,” Harry whined.

“One second!” Paulie called out to her very impatient boyfriend.

“What’s taking you so long?” he whined again.

“I wanna make sure everything’s in place. Now shush.”

The other day, Harry had ordered three sets of lingerie for Paulie and as soon as the package had arrived he knew he had to see her wearing them sooner rather than later.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

🌷📚🐝

Sunlight lights the freckles on Dean Winchester’s nose. They always get more obvious in spring, and Castiel loves it. He likes the little brown sprinkles covering Dean’s nose and cheeks, going perfect with the bright green of his eyes. Dean doesn’t see him staring, he’s focusing on his homework.

Castiel, who is normally the one to be concentrated, keeps looking at Dean next to him. It was a perfect day to sit outside, so they decided to get their boring work out and lay on the grass in Castiel’s garden.

It smells like spring; flowers and warm sunlight, just warm enough so they don’t have to wear jackets. Dean’s barefoot, his toes playing with the soft grass. Cas smiles when he sees it, then quickly returns to his work.

“They think we can like… stop time or something,” Dean complains and nods at the pile of books with him. “How are we going to finish this in one weekend?”

“We don’t,” Cas huffs. “And then we fail all our classes, get kicked out of school and go live out on the street.”
Dean’s laugh is as bright as the sun that’s currently creating speckles of light peaking through the leaves of the trees.

“Oh man, y’know what?” Dean softly pokes Cas’ bare arm. “As long as we’re homeless together, I’m cool.”

Cas smiles and quickly turns to his work so Dean doesn’t see him blush.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

They work for a while, exchanging questions and answers as time passed.

“Ugh,” Dean groans and rolls on his back, leaving his work next to him. “I’m dead.”

“Condolences.” Cas says and smiles as well when he hears Dean’s happy laughter. He puts his pen down again, too. He lays on his stomach and starts picking daisies, carefully, and begins to thread them together.

“Whatcha doin’, Chuckles?” Dean asks. He’s closed his eyes and lets the sun warm his skin.

“Surprise.” Cas smiles.

“If you’re trying to feed a bee again, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Bees are very important creatures, Dean, and I wasn’t feeding it.” Castiel continues his thread of flowers, making it longer until he can create a crown.

“You were guiding it to the biggest flowers. I call that feeding.”

Cas finished of the crown and shifted over to Dean.

“Don’t move.” He gently places the crown on Dean’s hair. “There.”
Dean opens his eyes, smiles when he sees Cas above him.
Cas moves away so Dean can sit up, gently feeling his hair.

“You made me a flower crown?” He asks with surprise. “Dork.”

“It looks great on you, Dean. Very natural.” Castiel says half-joking, half serious.

Dean looks like a fairy, or one of those aesthetic models.

“Yeah, y’know what’s very natural too? Walking around naked with a leaf hiding your dick.”

“Would go great with that crown.” Cas laughs, rolling on his back. Dean chuckles and flops down next to him.

“Oh, you know you wanna see that.” He turns his head and gives Cas a lopsided grin. He grins back.
“Totally. I’ll make sure to take pictures, for later blackmailing.”

Dean playfully pushes against his arm and smiles, turning his face back to the sun.

They lay together in the grass, happily ignoring the books and essays unfinished at their side.
“Cas- have you ever stolen something?”

They always play this game. One of them asks a ‘have you ever’ question, the other answers, then asks a question. The only rule: be honest. It sounds like a lame thing, but it has been helpful to both of them during difficult times, cheering them up.

“No,” Cas says after thinking. “Well… maybe a pen, at school- but never intentional.” He thinks. “Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?”

He could see Dean smile from the corner of his eyes.
“Well- Miss Talbot was pretty hot, but I didn’t have a crush.”

Castiel remembers the teacher they had last year, that got all the guys in awe- except for Cas, who had always been more interested in the handsome science teacher’s biceps.

“Did you ever think about kissing a teacher?”

“Nope,” Cas says proudly, “Did you ever think about… kissing a guy?”

He makes it sound so light, but his throat is closed and itchy.
Dean’s answer takes a while.

“Yeah,” He says softly. “Did you?”

“Yes, plenty.“

Castiel doesn’t know what to ask, but Dean goes first.

“Did you ever think about kissing me?”

When Cas looks to his side, Dean is looking at him. He can’t help but smile because of the flower crown in Dean’s hair and the expecting, nervous look on his sun kissed face.

“Yes.” Cas admits.

“Okay.” Dean seems happy, proud even. “I- uh, kinda thought about that too. Few times.”
He doesn’t look away from Cas, who feels frozen in place. Dean sits up and leans in, a little unsure as he places his hand besides Castiel’s head. “Should we, uh-”

“Yes.” Castiel repeats, but he feels out of breath as Dean’s freckled nose moves closer and Dean lightly bumps it against his.

His lips taste as sweet as the air of spring, filling Cas with colorful butterflies, saturating him with warm happiness. He expectantly leans in and pulls himself closer to Dean, to savor more of those plump lips. Dean’s hand is still next to his head in the grass, his other tracing an invisible line over Cas’ arm.

Castiel’s own hands find a place on his lower back, and Dean smiles against his lips. They pull away. breaths full of each other.

“This okay?” Cas asks, though Dean’s smile says everything.

“Very okay.” Dean hums, already leaning back in.

Castiel now pulls himself up and turns them around, carefully rolling Dean onto his back in the grass and flowers. Dean’s crown is still somehow on his head.

Cas kisses him again and realizes Dean even tastes like nature. Fresh and new and delicate, yet anciently rough and strong. The perfect balance, having Castiel amazed with every new second he kisses and tastes.

He gently takes Dean’s bottom lip before Dean makes a soft sound and takes Cas’ lip in his own, glad to pull him closer, deeper into that feeling they’re so new to.

Maybe spring fever got them both hypnotized, but they forgot about their schoolwork, everything they had to do.
Dean is running his fingers through Castiel’s hair, pulls him close until they’re both completely out of breath. One moment Castiel is on top, testing and trying Dean out, the other moment Dean is hovering over Castiel, careful and hesitant though knowing how to make him surrender.

The spots of sunlight through those leafs create a magical feeling, as if they did stop time and are all alone, with no one else in the world.

Maybe both of them have waited too long for this to end already, maybe they only now realize how much they wanted, they needed this.

It could’ve been hours before Dean softly pulls way one last time, rolling on the grass next to him.

For a moment, he’s quiet, then his fingers reach for Castiel’s.

“I meant it.” He says.

“What?” Cas frowns.

“As long as you’re with me, I wouldn’t mind being homeless.”

Castiel smiles and squeezes Dean’s fingers.
“Even though I agree, I think doing some more homework is a better idea.”
It takes them a little more time to get back to work, but after a while, the books are reopened and they try to focus.
But with their new experiences of each other, the rest of the afternoon isn’t that bad after all.

send me 3-5 emojis and I’ll write a fic based on them

2

Geez, what a difference a year makes! Especially if you’re drawing the same character nearly every day.

I still remember the first time I drew him and being so jazzed and proud about how he was designed, and thinking about how he took way too long to draw, haha. Luckily I’ve gotten faster at it, or else updates would take even longer than they do now :P

Happy Birthday, Fatal_Error :’)

And thanks to everyone for being here to celebrate it <3 I’ve got a little surprise planned, but it’d take a miracle to have it done before the end of today. I’ll do my best though ;)

And if you’re curious, the first image was a part of this, and the second image was from here!

Taking Action

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: “Could u do a bucky x reader where he flirts with you and you blush like hell but then one time u flirt back and he’s a blushing mess. THANKS <3″ - @reyofscarlet

Warnings: Sexual innuendos. That’s it (I think???) 

A/N: MY FIRST ONE SNDJSNFJSF YASSS THANKS FOR REQUESTING!! LOVE U. PS: Raise your hand if you love Confident!Bucky, because I know I do. 

You paced around Nat’s room, listening to her rant about Bruce. 

“I just can’t believe him. One minute, we’re alone in the lab and I think he’s going to make a move, and then the next, it’s like I have a huge pimple on my forehead and he can’t stand to look at me,” she rambled. 

You nodded your head, chiming in when necessary, when she asked you about you and the infamous Bucky Barnes. 

“Well,” you started. “We’re fine, I guess. He’s been pretty flirty the past few weeks but he’s never taken it any farther. It’s like we’re moving in circles: he flirts,  I stumble over my words, he laughs, and it repeats.”

You thought back to the week before, when you sat in the kitchen and ate your breakfast. 

“Hey, Y/N,” you heard Bucky say from the doorway. “What are you up to?” 

You motioned down to your bowl of Lucky Charmes. “What does it look like, Barnes?” you laughed slightly. 

He walked up to you and sat beside you, eyeing your bowl. “Is there something you want?” you asked. 

He chuckled to himself, biting back his tongue. His blue eyes scanned yours, a smirk evident on his face. 

“You.”

And just as quickly as he appeared in the kitchen, he was gone, leaving you flustered with a bowl of soggy cereal. 

Your mind wandered to another time, several weeks before, when you trained with Steve. 

“Come on, Y/N, focus,” Steve said, sweat dripping from his blonde hair. 

You swallowed and nodded, almost immediately going back to sparring with him. Within seconds, he was on the floor with his waist between your legs and his arm in your hands. 

Just then, the door opened and Steve tapped out. As you released Steve’s arm, you heard clapping behind you. 

“Good job, Y/N” Steve said, turning to Bucky, who stood in the back of the room, his eyes watching you. 

“Buck?” he asked. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’m just here to watch my favorite girl do what she does best,” he smiled sweetly at you. 

“And what is that?” Steve asked, not giving you a chance to respond. 

“Taking men down, one at a time,” Bucky smirked. “I just wish she could do the same to me. Only, it would be better if she did it in the bedroom,” he winked in my direction. 

What?

I felt the color in my face drain as his words dawned on me. 

“That’s enough, Buck,” Steve sighed. 

Bucky only laughed, though. “Close your mouth, Y/N, you’ll catch flies.” 

***

Nat laughed as you told her the memory. 

“You know what it sounds like, Y/N? It sounds like it’s time for you to take action and even the score,” she said, getting up from the bed. 

“How?” you asked, already having a feeling about what she would say next. 

“What you need to do is go down to the main room right now and do what he’s been doing to you. Here,” she said, walking into my closet and picking out a sports bra and a pair of skinny jeans. “Put these on and meet me down stairs in 10 minutes. I have a plan.”

You slipped on the clothes and in no time, you were in the elevator making your way down to where you knew Natalia would be. 

Sure enough, there she was, sitting between Steve and Bucky. You cleared your throat, half-uncomfortable and half-confident with the amount of skin you were showing. The three of them turned around, the two boys with their jaws on the ground and Natasha with a smile on her face. 

“Oh hey, Y/N,” Natasha smiled. “Nice outfit.”

“Thanks,” you said, still confused about what the plan was.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky said, getting up and making his way toward you. “What’s up with the new outfit?” he asked, his eyes raking up and down your body. 

You glanced behind him to see Natasha nodding, urging you to continue. 

You smiled and raised your eyebrows, “What do you think of it?” 

He smirked and leaned on the side of the table between you two. “You look great, doll. I do think you’d look ten times better without it, though.”

You saw your friends leaving the room and a surge of confidence began to flow through your veins. 

You walked around the table and stood closer to him. “Well, Buck. Are you going to do anything about it?” 

You saw him do a double take. 

This is the plan? To flirt with him until he feels the way I’ve been feeling for months?

He stumbled over his words, never expecting you to take part in his flirting. “Uh- you can, uh-” he began, a crimson tone making its way to his cheeks. 

“What’s wrong, Buck? And close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” 


A/N: UM IM SUPER SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. AND IM SORRY THE ENDING IS KINDA WEIRD BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT EVEN THOUGH IT’S A LITTLE DIFFERENT THAN WHAT YOU ASKED FOR. 

butterflygon  asked:

I think the reason people ask about a soulless Frisk scenario is because of the Soulless Pacifist ending... conveniently forgetting that Frisk's soul still resides in their body even then, it's just that Chara has gained dominant control of said body.

Yes, “Soulless Pacifist” is somewhat misleading. That route should be called “Pacifist Route Except You Bartered Your Soul to Chara.”

Your Move

The nine times Simon and Baz prank each other and the one time they don’t

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

March 31

Simon

In hindsight, I probably should have expected a trap right away, from the moment I heard the voice. High and light and familiar, and shrill with fear.  Agatha.

           I’m running towards the Wavering Wood before I can take too much time to think about when I’ve last seen Agatha.  If I’d been thinking, I would have remembered seeing her at lunch and in classes, and that she’d only gone back to her room after lunch to grab a book or something, not into the Wood.  But here I am, following her voice, summoning the Sword of Mages as I run.  Because what if?

           “Agatha, where are you?”

           “Simon!”

           “Where are you?”

           “Here!”

           I always thought that monster attacks only happened deep in the Wood, if you stumbled into a lair or something, not that they would seek people out, and not this close to the edge of the Wood.

           But apparently I’m wrong.  

           Because before I’m even four trees into the shadows, something explodes against the back of my head and I drop like a stone.

***

           When I come to I’m face-down in the dirt and something with deft fingers is securing the knots in the ropes around my wrists. I start to thrash and find my ankles bound as well, and I receive another smack in the head, which almost has me losing consciousness again.  I wait for the stars to pass from my vision and go still, even though every part of me wants to kick, fight, escape.  Instead I listen.

           Whatever has its foot on my back (at least I think it’s a foot) is human-shaped, but that is not to say that it is human.  It has long, spindly fingers that seem to shake as they tie.  It breathes loudly and quickly, like it’s in a hurry.  I hear a twig crack to my left, a little way off.  Something else is here.      

           “There you have it, then.”

           The voice is cool and familiar, and my heart sinks like a stone.

           “As you said,” comes another voice, this time from the creature on my back.  It’s gravelly and high like nails on glass.

           “I didn’t lie.”

           “You did.”

           “When?”

           “You said you required no payment,” the higher voice hisses like it’s smiling.

           “I stand by the statement.”

           “Then you’re either lying, or you’re a fool.”

           “A fool how?”

           “A fool to come here.”

           There’s a dull thud, and then the crunch of the leaves as the body hits the forest floor.  I want to turn my head and look, but I can’t reveal that I’m conscious.

           The harsh, loud breathing continues, this time scuttling around to my left, no doubt tying another set of wrists and ankles.

           Something crawls across my hands, maybe a spider, and I shake it off without thinking.

           I can actually feel it when the creature catches me moving.

           “Nighty-night,” it sings in Agatha’s voice before its foot connects with my head and everything goes black.

Baz

I don’t open my eyes right away when I wake up, my head aches too much.  Like there’s a needle from one temple through to the other.

           I feel something shift against my back there’s the stink of sweat and long-dead meat.  The air is cold and damp and for a minute I think I’m in the catacombs.

           Then I remember.

           I open my eyes slowly and to my relief there’s no blinding light to aggravate my headache.  I’m staring at my navel, and I’m in a sitting position, my back against something warm and solid.  Rope stings my wrists and when I lift my head I see it wrapped around my torso and ankles as well.  The ground around me is cold stone and scattered with bones and tiny, sharp rocks. Moisture trickles down the stone walls, patchy with moss and spider webs.

           A cave.  It’s brought me to its cave.

           And not just me.

           Snow shifts against my back again and I have to roll my eyes, even though it burns.  It tied us together.  Figures.

           “Waking up, are we?” comes the goblin’s rasping voice from behind me.  I don’t turn my head to look at it, I already know what it looks like.  Short, pale, gaunt and wide-eyed, with graying brown hair in a mess on the top of its head.  An old-looking suit that’s covered in mud and bits of dried-on… well, let’s just say that goblins aren’t elegant diners.

           “Let us go,” Snow growls at it, and I can picture his defiant glare.  It’s been directed at me more than once.  It’s actually kind of cute, if I weren’t so often on the receiving end, I’d turn to mush inside.  As it is, I can’t help but smile a little.  Stupid, brave Snow.  No wonder he’s the Mage’s Heir.

           “Why in the name of magic would I do that?” the goblin laughs.  “Look at me. Look at you.  You’re not just any old snack, are you?  You’re the Mage’s Heir.”

           “Which is exactly why you should let us go before you get hurt.”

           “You’re not going to kill me.”

           “That so?  Why not?”

           “Because I’m not going to kill you.”

           I can almost feel Snow balk in confusion.

           “Not yet, anyway.  I’ll say it again: you’re the Mage’s Heir,” the goblin goes on, “and do you know what happens to the lucky goblin who kills the Mage’s Heir?”

           Snow doesn’t say it out loud, but he knows.  I know.

           “So why wait until now to attack?” Snow questions.

           “Unfortunately, your little school has some pretty strong magical defenses.  I couldn’t get close enough until someone let me through.  You can thank your little friend for that.”

           I grit my teeth and don’t say anything.

           “Why not just kill us now, then?” Snow spits. “You’ve got us where you want us.”

           “Ah, but who would that convince?” the goblin chuckles.  “Anyone could claim to have killed you, and believe me, many have tried.  No, a simple claim won’t do.  You’re coming with me to the goblin court, where I will kill you, and your meddling friend, in front of many witnesses, and no one will be able to deny that I have killed the Mage’s Heir.”

           “And you’ll become the Goblin King,” Snow finishes.

           “As is my right.”

           “You won’t get away with it.”  I roll my eyes again at the cliché.

           “Spare me the theatrics,” the goblin groans and I hear the flick of a switchblade.  Snow cries out in pain and jerks back, his head hitting mine and my eyes explode again. A scent fills the air, familiar and terrifying.  Blood. His blood.

           It’s a good thing he can’t see me because my fangs pop instantly at the smell.

           Snow yells again and I don’t know what the goblin is doing to him but it’s making my stomach sick.

           “Stop,” I growl.

           Snow gives a gasp of pain and the smell of his blood grows stronger.

           “I said, stop.”  This time I shout.

Simon

The goblin stops, leaving me to pant away the sting of its knife in my shin.  My head is pounding from the many blows in the past half-hour (maybe more, I don’t know how long I was out after the kick) and blood trickles down my cheek to my neck.

           I don’t know if Baz is trembling against my back, or if it’s me doing the trembling.

           The goblin pockets the switchblade and turns its attentions on Baz, kneeling beside him and speaking close to his ear.

           “What’s wrong?” it sneers.  “Don’t like the smell?”  It drags a grimy finger across the cut on my cheek and waves my blood in Baz’s face.  I feel him go tense and still, like he’s holding his breath.

           “I’m surprised at you, boy,” the goblin continues, “weren’t you the one who set all this up?  And now you don’t want me to hurt him?”

           “Just leave him alone,” Baz seethes.

           “Make up your mind,” the goblin tells him.  “Or would you rather I paid you more attention?” There’s a crackle and I turn my head to see the tiny fireball the goblin has conjured in its hand.

           I’m feeling more and more sure that Baz is a vampire by the minute, because even though he’s obviously trying not to react, he shrinks back from the flame automatically.  If so much as a spark hits his skin…

           “Get away from him,” I spit at the creature, “it’s me you want.”

           “And it always has to be about you,” Baz pipes up, sarcastic to the last.

           The goblin stares at me for a long second before extinguishing the fireball in its fist and standing up again.

           “You boys will want to get some rest,” it says, “we’ll be leaving at sundown.”

Baz

Goblins are nocturnal creatures, and this one has been up pretty late in the day, so it doesn’t take long for the wretched thing to fall asleep.  Somehow it doesn’t look as peaceful in its sleep as Snow always does.

           “Alright Baz?” Snow whispers to me.

           “What the fuck are you asking me that for?”

           “Thought I’d try some compassion, since we’re in the same situation, but clearly it’s a waste of my time.  Fuck you.”

           “Likewise.”

           Silence.

           “Snow.”

           “What?”

           “Your move.”

           I feel him whip his head around.  “You have got to be joking.”

           “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

           “This is your idea of a practical joke?” he asks incredulously.  “Selling me out to a goblin?  And where does your own capture play into this brilliant plan?”

           “It doesn’t,” I admit, “I was going to kill it before it could do you any real harm.”    

           “Brilliant.”

           “I thought so.”

           “It’s not even your turn, you twat.”    

           “Thought I’d go for the element of surprise. Besides, you haven’t made your move yet today.”

           “Clearly you haven’t checked your closet yet.”

           My head drops forward and I sigh.  “Great.”

           “Don’t mention it.”

           “Seriously though, you’ve been slacking off.  Where were you on Monday?”

           He doesn’t answer.

           “Snow?”

           “I heard you.”

           “Well, then?”

           A defeated sigh.

           “You know those terrible nightmares you had that night?”

Simon

It takes a second for the penny to drop, but when it does it’s louder than a bomb.

           “Unbelievable.”

           “It wasn’t supposed to go that far.”

           “You cursed me into having nightmares?”  He sounds angry enough to burst into flames, which I’m not convinced he couldn’t actually do if he lost control.

           “It was an accident.”

           “So you just accidentally formulated a curse to attack me in my sleep.”

           “You were only supposed to have minor nightmares,” I insist, “not start yelling in terror.”

           “Sorry,” he snarls, “did I keep you up?”

           “That’s not what I mean.”

           “I cannot fucking believe you.”

           “You took my voice,” I shoot back, unable to keep the childish defensiveness out of my whisper.  “That’s practically unforgiveable.  And now you’ve almost gotten both of us killed, and you didn’t even know that I was responsible for the nightmares.”

           “The moment we’re out of this cave, you are dead.”

           “Shocking.”

           “So if you wanted me to have nightmares, why did you wake me up?  Why not just let me suffer?”

           “Because you were terrified, Baz,” I say like it should be obvious.  “You were crying out for your mum and it was awful.”

           He’s quiet for a second before replying. “What else was I calling out for?”

           Me.

           “Nothing.  You just kept saying ‘no’ a lot.”

           Baz lets out a long, shuddering sigh like everything he dreamt about is rushing back.  They must have been some of the worst nightmares of his life the way he’s reacting.

           I should have held him.  I should have comforted him.  I wanted to comfort him.  But I didn’t.  Because I was too proud.  I was too scared.

           I want to comfort him now, but we’re tied up. That and he’d probably vaporize me if I tried.

           “I’m sorry.”

           “What?”

           I take a deep breath.  “It was wrong of me to give you nightmares.  I should have known better, or I should have told you that it was me, I…” I’m almost too afraid to say it in a register that he’ll hear. “I’m sorry, Baz.”

           He’s quiet for a long time.

           “Baz?”

           “Don’t expect me to forgive you.”

           “I don’t.”

           Pause.

           “But thank you.”

           “For?”

           “Apologizing.”

           I breathe a sigh of relief.

Baz

“So,” Simon ventures after a heavy moment, “what now?”

           “We wait for the goblin to kill us.”

           “Yeah, right.”  I can practically hear his eye-roll.  “We need to get out of here.”

           “Any ideas?”

           “One.”

           “Let’s hear it.”

           “We’ll need to work together.”

           Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes.  “How inspiring, Snow, I thought you said you had a plan.”

           “Any plan we come up with is going to require teamwork,” he explains in a whisper.  “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re literally tied to each other.”

           “I had noticed, thanks.”

           “So, we’ll have to work together to get out.”

           “You have a sword,” I reason, “can’t you use it to cut us free?”

           “I can’t summon it without spearing you,” he says, “it would appear in my hand, the blade would probably end up in your stomach.”

           Two birds with one stone, my mind supplies darkly, but I push the thought away. “Maybe I could burn through the ropes.”

           “Yeah, and send us both up in flame.  Great idea.”

           “Got anything better?”

           “Where’s your wand?”

           “Back pocket.”

           “Can you reach it?”

           “If I could, we’d already be out of here.”

           “If I can get it to you, could you spell the ropes off?”

           “Any chance to get your hands on my arse, eh Snow?”

           “Fuck off.”

           “Yes, I could spell the ropes off.”

           “Alright, what then?  Sneak out?”

           I cast a glance at the sleeping goblin. “Not until we deal with Goblin King over here.”

           “You have a plan?”

           A grin spreads across my face.  “Oh, I have a plan.”

Simon

Baz insists that I make a noisy show of escaping, to wake the goblin.  Why he would want to do that, I can’t imagine (he hasn’t told me all of the plan, which should probably make me suspicious), but he seems to be getting more excited about whatever he’s going to do by the second.  The smirk I’m so familiar with is glued to his face, but instead of making me feel sick, I’m buzzing like I’ve had too much sugar. Maybe because he’s not directing it at me this time, but sharing it with me.

           I have to wonder why we’ve never teamed up before.  Granted, we’re usually at each other’s throats, but something about this, the working together, the shaky alliance, is making me giddy.  I’m almost giggling as I throw the ropes to the cave floor.

           Baz has already disappeared from view as the goblin wakes up, turning to find me frozen on my way to the cave entrance.

           “Where do you think you’re going?” it sneers.

           “Goblins,” I shake my head, “you really are as stupid as they say.”

           The goblin pulls its blade from its pocket again, but doesn’t respond with any more than a growl.

           “You see,” I go on, “you were smart to take us both.”

           I can’t help but watch Baz as he appears behind the creature, silent as a wraith.

           “But you were a fool,” I grin, “to leave us both alive.”

           A flame appears in Baz’s hand.  In a flash he wraps an arm around the creature’s neck and shoves the fireball into its open mouth.

           Its eyes widen and steam pours out of its ears as the fireball takes the path of least resistance: right down the throat. The human illusion starts to disintegrate and I see flashes of the goblin’s true face, gray and leathery with red eyes and sagging, pointed ears.  It struggles but Baz holds on tight, until the thrashing stops and the goblin droops in his arms, and he drops it, limp and smoking, to the ground.

           He hasn’t looked away from me the entire time.

           I haven’t looked away from him.

Baz

It’s still light outside when we emerge from the cave, but we’re clearly much deeper into the Wood than before.  I don’t recognize anything.

           “Hang on, I’ll climb a tree and get our bearings,” I tell Simon.

           He gives me a quizzical look and unfurls his wings without a word.

           I shrug and take my place at the bottom of a tree.  “I bet I could still beat you.”

           “Come off it.”

           “You haven’t seen me climb a tree.”

           “And you haven’t seen me fly.”

           We stare each other down for a second, tasting this new dynamic.  Still rivalry, but different.  Less hateful, more fun.

           I leap into the tree without warning.

           I can see his eyes widen as he takes in my speed, and he kicks off the ground an instant later, but we reach the halfway point around the same time.  He beats me by seconds, perching at the top like a bird while I scramble to the branch below him.

           “See anything?” I ask, catching my breath.

           He scans for a moment before pointing behind us. “There’s Watford.  Not a bad view from here,” he says as I climb up a branch to meet his level, “we should climb trees more often.”

           I peer the few inches up at him, a strange expression on my face.  “We?”

           Simon meets my gaze suddenly, like he’s realized what he’s said.  “I, um… well, whatever,” he stammers.

           Is his face going red from flying?  Or from…

           I’m not used to looking up to meet his eyes, and he’s not usually framed by the pure white sky and the smell of pine and mountain air.

           I’m not used to him looking at me the way he is now.

Simon

I’m not used to being this close to Baz, or holding his gaze for this long, or letting down my guard with him, or seeing him framed by pine branches and treetops, or wanting to touch his hair…

Baz

There’s a fresh scar on his cheek from the goblin’s blade.

Simon

His hair is black again, and I still want to touch it.

Baz

His lips part slightly, and my heart stops entirely.

Simon

I don’t know what I’m doing.

But I lean in…

Baz

I’m just closing my eyes as the bough breaks beneath me and I fall through the branches.

Simon

He only falls about halfway down, but he hits just about every branch on the way.  I jump from my perch and dive after him, grabbing onto a limb where he stops his descent, groaning.

           “You alright?”

           “Perfect, thanks Snow.”

           We both climb the rest of the way down and head back towards the castle.  We don’t speak, and my head is still spinning with everything that’s just happened, not to mention what’s almost happened.

           “So,” I venture, “who’s turn is it again?”

           Baz shrugs.  “Tomorrow’s the first of April.”

           “I know.”

           We look at each other for a moment.

           “Fair game?” I suggest.

           He nods.  “Fair game.”

           We walk another few minutes in silence.

           “So, you’re not going to kill me for the nightmares then?”

           Baz shoots me a sideways glance, but he’s smiling. A real smile, not a sneer. Genuine.

           “Not today.”

re·al·i·za·tion

noun

The moment of sudden clarity when feelings are finally recognized, or are made aware for the first time.

Originally posted by bangtannoonas


It hit you one Friday night when you received and drunkenly read a text message while leaving the bar at the wee hours of the morning. It was Valentine’s Day, more affectionately known as Single Awareness Day, and your friends had dragged you to go out with them because sitting alone in your apartment doing nothing just seemed “too pathetic.” You, on the other hand, didn’t mind the idea of treating yourself to some wine and Netflix at home, but they obviously thought otherwise. 

“Even Yoongi’s going out tonight,” One of your friend’s stressed, hoping that bringing up your older brother would help convince you in some way, “He and Jimin and the others are single but you don’t see them staying at home tonight doing nothing.”

That did the trick.

Keep reading

Fights.

Request: Requested by @neverabandonthejeep: One shot pls :) where some other guy at school is trying to hit on you and stiles gets really mad and picks a fight with them even though he knows he’s gonna lose thanks 😘.

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader.

Warnings: Violence, language, and mentions of blood (not too graphic though).

Fandom: Teen Wolf.

A/N: Sorry this took me so long to post and forgive if it’s bad, I had a serious writer block till now. Also I changed the request a little bit, hope you don’t mind.

(Not my gif, credit to its owner).

The lacrosse team dressing room was packed. There were boys showering, others changing to head out of the school and others were talking about who knows what.

Stiles and Scott were discussing quietly some supernatural issues while gathering their things to finally go home. Everything was fine until Andrew Jones, one of the team Golden Boys and full-time jerk entered the room.

“Damn it, how can someone with just their presence bother everyone’s existence,” Stiles grunted at the sight of Andrew laughing with his gang of brainless friends. Scott turned his head a little to catch what his friend was observing.

“I don’t know why you hate him so much, I mean yeah, he’s a complete idiot but apart from that, he has never done something bad to you,” Stiles let out a fake chuckle to put on a serious face after. “You, my friend are too good to see that he is a complete asshole with a ridiculous personality, and don’t for-” Scott’s laugh interrupted his best friend rambling. To say the Stilinski boy didn’t like Andrew was an understatement, but this whole exposition of reasons just lead to one main argument: Jones had a thing for you, Stiles girlfriend.

“Are you sure, this has nothing to be with the fact that Andrew likes (Y/N)?”

“Maaaybeee, but after all he’s insufferable,” The two mates felt silent as they stared at the boy in question getting closer to them with his group of friends.

“Look what we have here, the athlete and his loser best friend,” Andrew commented earning a killer glare from Stiles and an eye roll from Scott.

“What do you want, Jones?” Stiles fumed, he honestly didn’t have time for this or anything that involved Andrew Jones.

“Nothing, really. Annoying you just gives me satisfaction,” Scott scoffed, this asshole was being beyond ridiculous and yes, he understood why his best friend hated him.

“Oh yeah? You know what causes me satisfaction? Not facing jerks like you who can’t even understand a proper phrase” And with that Stiles turned around to leave, followed by Scott.

“Alright Stilinski, leave but please say hi to (Y/N) for me and don’t forget to mention that I wish I could see that body of hers,” Oh no, that went way too far. Nobody made that kind of comments about you, not if he was there. His body shifted so now he could face the jerk in front of him.

“What did you say little fucker?” Stiles voice came out low and threatening and his eyes were blind by the anger. The smirk Andrew had just got bigger at this reaction.

“I said, that I wish to see your girl in all her magnificence,” That was it. Stiles curled his hands into fists and punched Andrew with a strength he didn’t even know he had. The boy fell from the force, and everyone looked at Stiles amazed; usually he would attack someone verbally, he never punched and kicked his way out of situations, but this time something really took him to the limit.

“Son of a bitch!” Andrew shouted; now the big bad guy was angry. This wasn’t going to end well. Rapidly recomposing himself from the blow, he pushed Stiles making him fall and started to punch him repeatedly. The blood was starting to drip from Stiles‘ nose and he was sure that his face would be dark purple in certain places.

“What the hell is happening here?” Someone gasped, all the boys in the room getting out of their daze to see a feminine figure standing shocked at the view of the other two guys wrestling on the floor.

“Scott! Do something!” You shouted, was he really watching his friend being beaten and doing nothing to stop it?

“Shit! Right,” The werewolf used his muscles to throw Andrew to the other side of the room, probably leaving him unconscious, and his group of friends flew off after witnessing Scott’s strength.

“My gosh, Stiles!” The boy tried to sit straight but his body was in pain, you rushed to his side and helped him. There were bruises starting to form in his beautiful skin and his nose was bleeding, that sure hurt.

“I’m fine (Y/N). It’s alright,” The comment didn’t make things better, this situation was not fine at all.

“No, it’s not alright you dumbass. What were you thinking? I mean look at you!” You stressed. He stared at your face that even with a frown of worry looked beautiful. By now, Scott was helping you to put him on his feet so you could go to the infirmary.

“(Y/N). Love. Calm down, please. It doesn’t hurt because it was for a good reason” Stiles half smiled at you, but hell, you were angry at him for getting himself in this situations.

“And what was that good reason?” You asked, scanning his features.

“I was defending you. He was saying bad things about you. And I-” He was interrupted by the feeling of your hand on his sore cheek.

“Look Stilinski, I love that you wanted to stand up for me, but a bump fight isn’t the solution,” And it was true, you’d rather being called things that watching him get severely hurt.

“She’s right man” Scott agreed with you. Stiles smiled lightly, knowing you cared deeply about him.

“Okay, Okay. Now, you two fools take me to the infirmary. This hurts like hell” You and his werewolf friend laughed at his sass.

“Alright, princess” You responded jokingly.

Dating Jungkook would be like

-always having a good laugh when you remember how he confessed and how you two got together

-actually…you’re not 100% sure if almost breaking your phone while he was taking a selfie of you two because he was way to nervous from being only a few inches from you, suddenly blurting out that he likes you, denying it and trying to play it off as a joke only a few seconds after, only to accidentally tell you he likes you again, actually counts as a…confession

-but you got together after spending half an hour and using some drastic measures to convince him you like him to so who are you to questions his methods

-getting too handsy way too fast like..two days into your relationship but it doesn’t take you a while to realize he actually has no idea what he’s supposed to do

-being way to shy in some other aspects, like almost passing out after your first kiss and you’re like ‘’Your hand wasn’t that shy earlier…’’…your comment obviously doesn’t help

-you find that gap incredibly cute and don’t waist any opportunity to tell him that

-adjective ‘’cute’’ is not exactly the one he wants to hear so he’ll take his revenge by using it against you

-you stopped calling him cute in front of him after your new lingerie for a special occasion was classified as ‘’cute’’ 

-he’s a little devil in disguise 

-despite that, he’s the biggest fan of cuddles

-even though his awkward self has no idea how to start them

-so you’re either being ambushed and suddenly being pulled into a hug while you’re walking to the kitchen

-or facing a century long journey of Jungkook’s hand from its place on his thigh to your waist when you’re watching a movie on the couch

-exercising together and him checking you out when you’re not looking

-almost earning a few broken bones from the struggle of pretending he wasn’t doing anything after you notice him

-blurting out unexpected compliments an the most unexpected times and taking a whole day to stop blushing

-reading comic books together, you sitting between his legs and him hugging you from behind

-having to deal with his constant and loud fanboying when his favorite character appears and constant neck kisses that really don’t help you concentrate on the plot

-him being determined to go on a trip with you as soon as he can and is coming up with with a different destination every day

-you’re pretty sure he doesn’t care where he’s going as long as you’re with him

-waking you up at 5 in the morning to ask you if you want to go take a walk at the beach and you’re like ‘’is this supposed to be romantic and if it is it’s too early for that’’

-still going with him because it’s Jungkook and you can’t say no to him and he knows it and because he gave you one of his shirts to wear

-sharing headphones which is just another excuse to be as close to you as possible without actually asking for it out loud

-responding to his messages with Jungkook memes

-leaving his shirts everywhere in sneaky plan of tempting you to take them

-realizing a huge mistake he made when you show up wearing one and you two are not alone

-when you’re surrounded by other people his eyes are constantly looking for you and somehow he always ends up by your side again, even if it’s uncounsciously 

-finding him in the middle of the room just staring into space after a tiring day and just bumping into him, making him smile and just silently leading him into your bedroom and in those moments no words are needed because you both know exactly how the other one feels

-chasing him through the house after he ate all your cookies, ‘’You can’t eat your own kind, Jeon Jungkook!’’

-him finding you watching their dance practices and admiring his legs

-him enjoying the show

-also him trying to look fierce af whenever a guy lays a look on you even if it’s a cashier guy around 30 years older than you asking you if you want a bag 

-’He was eyeing you in a weird way!’’, ‘’He was probably trying to signal me that help is on the way since the guy I was with was trying to double his size…’’

-clumsy lover in the beginning

-destroying the bed headboard after a few months

-almost unnoticeable first ‘’i love you’’ but you know, whispered in the dark when both of you were half asleep

-it’s not something he would say often just for the sake of saying it, just like he’s afraid it will lose its meaning…but still a day wouldn’t go by without him showing you how much he loves you even if it’s just an action that goes unnoticed by the other and sometimes even by him

anonymous asked:

(for a sec I thought that was Xiaolin Showdown and got really excited) (it's still good tho)

Ah man, Xiaolin Showdown is one of those cartoons I’d rly like to watch, I only saw a few episodes on tv long ago… I liked Omi and Jack!

I completely forgot there was a dragon! and it’s even green… I can see why it’d be confused for the show! I’m glad you still liked it though! [Here’s a little sketch for you]

anonymous asked:

prompt: hanzo not wanting to admit that he likes the way mccree smells

Hanzo thinks he should hate it, and he does, at the beginning: the cloying aroma of tobacco, the bitter undercurrent of smoke that make up the bulk of McCree’s scent. There’s more to it, though, the spicy scent of shampoo-and-body-wash gel (because McCree doesn’t understand the point of having them be separate) and whatever natural scent that is McCree’s own, which level out the tobacco a little and makes it a little more bearable. Still, he dislikes it overall, because even though cigarillos are a touch more fragrant than the typical cigarette, they’re still overwhelmingly strong. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” McCree had laughed when Hanzo first complained, “but I can’t do much about it.”

But when the serape McCree gave him before his long mission finally begins to lose its scent, fading away until Hanzo can no longer detect even the stink of tobacco, Hanzo’s stomach turns cold.

Flutter - Ch.2

Oh Sehun/Reader
Genre: Fluff/Romance/Smut (eventually)
Word Count: 1737


Previous Chapter


As soon as you stepped outside the cafe you moved to let go of Sehun, but he grabbed your hand pulling it to rest back around his elbow.

“You can keep holding on to me,” he said quietly.

“I’d rather not,” you mumbled in return, shuffling away again.

“It’s either this or holding hands, which one will it be, sweetheart?” He had turned his head to you know, looking at you darkly, a teasing smile on his lips.

Keep reading

Cold; reidxreader

Originally posted by imaybeobsessed94

A/N: The gif killed me.

Enjoy!!!


You laid next to your boyfriend in your shared bed. It’d been a long day and you just wanted to sleep now, but you were freezing. Your feet were cold despite the fuzzy socks covering them. You whined.

“What?” Spencer asked you without looking up from his book.

“My feet are so cold even though I’m wearing socks.” You frowned.

“Well, supposedly women’s feet and hands get colder than men’s because their body heat goes to their core, around their heart and uterus. Its so that they can protect developing fetuses.” he replied, smiling a little.

“That would make perfect sense, except for the fact that I don’t have a developing fetus in my uterus.” You complained. Spencer sighed and removed his glasses, then put his book on the bedside table.

“C’mere,” he muttered with open arms. Gladly, you cuddled up closely to him. Your head was on his shoulder and he wrapped both arms around you. He kissed your head, “Love you.”

“Love you more.” 

“No you don’t,” he said, “there’s no way that you love me more than I love you.”

You didn’t respond, just leaned up and kissed his jaw, sighing contently. No matter what he said, you knew that you’d always love him more than anyone else.


masterlist

reminder that isak and even have their own sides of the bed. aside from when theyre laying wrapped around each other in a tangled mess, as close to one another as possible. and lets be real: thats 85% of the time. but even’s side is still the left, and isak’s the right. since the very first night together after the pool kiss. and even always sleeps on isak’s favorite pillow. anyway, it doesnt really matter to isak what pillow he has anymore, as long as he can bury his nose into evens fluffy hair each night. or feel even’s deep breaths against his neck.
reminder that isak gets woken up by evens soft kisses on his neck and shoulder almost every morning they sleep together. isak is REALLY bad at mornings, its an everlasting struggle to open his eyes before 1pm, but it got a little bit less horrible after meeting even. no he even (its funny everytime) likes it now. dont get me wrong though. even still has to struggle for at least 40 minutes to get isak out of the bed. if its a school day. an hour if its the weekend.
but he loves it nonetheless. and isak does too. because they love each other more than they ever thought they could love anyone. and nothing involving the other person can ever be unbearable.

moodiful819  asked:

Kylo and Rey are fighting on yet another planet. At the most inopportune moment, an animal decides these two are now its parents.

this is so fucking weird it’s like part crack part serious. tw for some violence and discussion of killing an animal.


The Millennium Falcon had a stowaway. But it wasn’t R2 or Chewie or even Finn, miraculously recovered from his wound. That would have been reasonable.

No, it was a kriffing. Baby. Rathtar.

The little monster flopped out of a damaged access port of the Falcon’s access port as Kylo and Rey dueled against the side of the hull. Neither of them noticed it at first, but they would come to wonder how it survived as long as it did before inspecting the damage more closely and seeing it had eaten a whole host of ancient wiring with its semi-acidic saliva.

There was a sort of weird nostalgia to battling him in snow again, though this time she was better dressed and the snow was much thicker thanks to Hoth’s climate. Rey’s less than graceful landing of the ship after overshooting the ancient rebel base’s hangar had left her an eyesore on the snowy landscape, easy prey for her pursuer. They drew their lightsabers and fought mindlessly the minute Kylo landed.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

This is really random but what do you think Richonne's first petty argument as a couple was about??? I can't even imagine Michonne getting mad at Rick over some dumb shit like him leavin them dusty jeans on the floor lol

Lmao. Yeah, I can’t really imagine them arguing over something like that. I feel like Michonne just has a certain standard, and Rick makes sure he meets it, whether subconsciously or deliberately. So he’s not leaving his drawers on the floor all day. Unless hers are down there, too. 😄He keeps the toilet seat down and the kitchen clean. He takes out the garbage without her having to ask. (Where? I don’t know, but he takes it, dammit, lol.) He’s an equal partner in their relationship and in their lives, so I think it’d be rare for her to have anything to complain about.

If anything, it’d probably involve Rick being jealous of someone flirting with Michonne. And not mad at her of course, but I can see him doing that murder twitch and Michonne thinking it’s silly for him to be jealous (although on a deeper level, she kinda likes it). So it’s not a serious argument, but maybe it takes up a drive home. Or maybe they argue over Rick shaving. 🤔 Though I like to believe Michonne has come to her senses and enjoys his face losing that war at this point. So maybe the tables have turned and he wants shave, but she doesn’t want him to. Or… I could see them having a difference of opinion on how to ground Carl for something. (For sneaking to the Sanctuary, for example.) Like Michonne thinks Rick is too soft on him. Or vice versa.

Whatever it is, I wish we could see it? Even though that’s not the show we’re watching, I’m dying for more of Grimes family life – the domestic moments; the parenthood; the little nothing fights. But I guess that’s what fanfiction is for. 🤗

Fic: What You Need

Skank!Kurt/pocket!Blaine, inspired by this picture. ~1670 words, PG-13, fluff.

“Oh, goddammit,” Kurt said, staring down at the narrow yet surprisingly deep crack in the pavement below the bleachers. He had fumbled his lighter while pulling it out of his pants and dropped it, and from the looks of it, that lighter was going to be gone forever. “Great. Amazing. Just what I needed.”

He took a seat on the low concrete divider that helped support the metal seats, wondering what would be the fastest way to get his cigarette lit. Most of the Skanks were off in Columbus for what they were calling “Senior Ditch Day,” like they needed an excuse to ditch class, while the few that hadn’t gone were nowhere in sight. Kurt was mentally debating whether he should go buy a new lighter from the closest 7/11 or try to hunt down Quinn when a bright flash and a loud crack startled him from his thoughts.

“What the-”

“You need help?” A warm voice asked. Kurt whipped his head around trying to determine where it was coming from. “Down here!”

Kurt nearly fell off the wall and cracked his head open.

Keep reading