even uglier than the last one


so i basically locked myself in my room last weekend and ended up reading a copy of the no. 6 novels i found on my old laptop. then i spent the whole week watching the anime. what i’m trying to say is.. i dont think you can ever truly escape no. 6 hell.
second one is a redraw (ish) of some official art

internet suggestions ❖ sehun

anon one requested: can you do a sehun imagine where his S/o is on her period and she want to have sex because she thinks it will make the pain goes away?? (and they do sex)

anon two requested: I’m not sure if your requests are still open, but I’ve been waiting to request this from somebody for over a year now and I’m gonna go insane rn so. Can I please get a period sex with Sehun? Where her cramps are really really bad and as you know, orgasms cure the cramps and Sehun is worried about her and he does some research and finds out about this so he suggests it to her and at first she’s a little hesitant about it, but eventually sways and goes with it! Please, and thank you ❤️

(gif not mine, cr to the owner)

2234 words | smut as hell wow, this is nasty, on-period sex, slight mention of breast-feeding and cockwarming (but really, just talking about it, not doing anything) | velvet

✎ You’re on your period, but your boyfriend is horny and just wants you to feel better.

[Warning: If you’re uncomfortable with this, please don’t read it!]

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Brienne of Tarth...

Imagine Brienne of Tarth protecting you from a drunkard the night before she leaves to fight for Renly.

(Sooo an anon wanted a protective/fluff fem/fem Brienne and I really tried on this. I’m sorry if it kind of…lacks…I have never really written Brienne before so I don’t have her character down yet)

(Word Count: 1, 101)

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What to Expect (When You're Expecting the Wost)

Summary: Shepard never thought in a million years she’d get pregnant, and now that she is, she’s not sure how to handle it. After all, these sorts of things should be impossible, right? (Shakarian, Rated G)

This takes place in the same universe as Bloodlines but can be read on it’s own.


After nearly twenty years of pinprick accuracy in her menstrual cycles, she is late.

First a day, then two, then a week.

She doesn’t tell Garrus. It’s the stress of the move, she thinks; the injuries from the crucible; the medication.

She waits for disappointment.

It doesn’t come.

Then, excitement and terror fight a gut-churning battle.

After two weeks of uncertainty (and some awfully strange looks at the drug store), she buys two pregnancy tests: one dextro, one levo.

She takes levo first, then dextro.

When both come back blinking positive signs, she doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

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The gossip rag reads in blaring font.

“Um, bisexual lover, thank YOU.”  Sam mumbles, flipping through the flimsy pages, just to see.

“Any gems?”  Natasha asks, looking over his shoulder and popping her gum next to his ear.
“Yeah–” Sam scans the trashy text and badly edited candid photos-

 "Oh- Get this: “Ever since Steve Rogers confessed to his long-rumored homosexuality-" 

"Bisexuality” Natasha chimes.

“—He’s had a veritable array of rumored lovers, from billionare playboy Tony Stark to alien dreamboat Thor.”

“TONY STARK?” Natasha snorts and crowds in even closer to peer at the article.  
“I don’t know whether to frame this or burn it- and THOR?  ….What even?  The dude lives in space or something.”
Sam just looks at her.  She shrugs.
“I’m a little fuzzy on the details.”

Sam chuckles a little and continues reading-
“But the biggest mystery of all is why decorated hero and national icon would choose Sam Wilson, of all people, to hitch his cart to.”

“Of all people-”  Sam laughs.  "ALL people- Including Thor.  Good to know I’m the least eligible bachelor in this or any other universe.“

"What does that even mean?? Of ALL PEOPLE?”  
Natasha asks, “You’re HOT-
“And spoken for.” He grins at her, fluttering his eyelashes.  

She elbows him and goes on-
“Seriously, what the hell.  You and Steve are great together. …Tony Stark- THAT’D go well.  You gotta show that to Steve, he’ll die laughing.”
“Yeah, he’ll get a kick out of it.”

Sam does not show it to Steve.

 He was laughing with Natasha as he bought the magazine, and as he read the bizarre theories and wild speculations in it on the walk to Steve’s place.
But it seems a lot less funny when he’s not giggling over it with Natasha in a convenience store in front of a bunch of tabloids about Obama secretly dating Bat Boy,
-When it’s just an ugly story made of ugly words printed on ugly newsprint.

Sam Wilson wasn’t born yesterday- he knows it boils down to:
“Captain America is Dating Beneath Him,
And THAT he doesn’t need a Howling Commandos Decoder Ring to spell out means: 
“Captain America is dating a black man.”

It’s nothing he hasn’t had to deal with his whole life- he should be able to laugh it off.
But something about the phrase: “Sam Wilson, of all people,” sticks with him and he makes a special stop to buy a little bouquet of sunflowers on his way to Steve’s apartment.

Steve’s researching climate change on the internet when Sam comes in, but he stands up to kiss him hello and makes some noise about starting dinner soon.  
Steve teases him about the flowers, obviously pleased, as he finds something to put them in
“I guess this means you like me.”  He smiles flirtatiously and Sam hopes he does an okay job of forcing a little smile back, regretting the flowers a little- he kind of wishes he had cancelled their plans and gone back to his own place.

He can see himself picking a fight, but is unable to stop- stonewalling Steve’s attempts at conversation, contradicting him over little things-
it’s nothing, practically nothing, but it ends up with them getting in a fight about some pointless bullshit- they exchange heated words and Steve snaps at him and goes back to the internet-

Sam starts to wash the dishes, throat hot and tight, and when Steve comes back in to contritely offer to help dry them he tells him NO he does NOT need his help, without looking up, and Steve huffs back out of the room.

Sam’s drying the last pan when Steve comes back into the kitchen. 
“What is this?”  He asks.
 It’s the magazine- it looks uglier than it did before, and smaller.  

“Gossip rag- seems like most of America is rooting for you and billionaire Tony Stark’s turbulent romance to pull through-”  Sam says, aiming for flippant, and coming out strangled.
“I read it.” Steve says flatly. “I swear, you grab lunch with a Norse God one time and people talk." 

Sam can’t stand how nice Steve is being- he knows he’s been a jerk all evening- why can’t Steve just go away until he doesn’t feel like he can’t stand to look at him standing there, beautiful and patient and loving him.  Sam sighs harshly and scrubs his hands over his face.
"I’m sorry, I’ve been an asshole, I should go home-" 
"Hey- is this bothering you, because I-”

“Of all people, why-”  Sam fully intends to end the sentence with a light-hearted joke, and is mortified when he bursts into tears mid-thought.  

“Hey-” Steve’s there in a second, arms around him, and Sam uncurls and hugs him back, putting his face in Steve’s neck and hiccup-sobs the rest of the quote: “Why would you be (gasp) with me of all people?” Before collapsing back into embarassing but uncontrollable sobs.

“Shh, shhhh, hey-  I’m with you, Little Bird-” Steve holds him close, running his hands firmly up and down his back.  He rocks them soothingly side to side-
“Sorry, man-” Sam gasps.  "It’s stupid-“

"Hey, no- you’re my best friend, Sam.  
- You make me feel like I’m okay, like it doesn’t matter where or WHEN I am, cause I belong-
Like I’m good enough.
 Like I can be better.
Like it’s okay to wanna be happy.
 Like it’s worth it to try because I have you to catch me-”

Steve seems like he’s unburdening himself of thoughts he’s been holding on to-

“Sam, I was lost when I met you….. And you let me into your life when by all acounts you should have taken one look at my sorry ass on your doorstep and told me to take a hike.

I ask myself every day why, of all people, I’m lucky enough to have you in my life… It’s a miracle.”

“I’ll tell you, it’s not easy taking care of your ass.” Sam manages to crack, and feels Steve smile into his hair.
“I’m putting my heart out here and you’re makin jokes- typical.” Steve says, kissing the top if his head before going on- 

“You’re funny- you’re kind- you’re brave- you’re smart- you make amazing french toast-” Sam has started to laugh a little in spite of himself, and Steve swings him buoyantly from side to side as he talks- “you’re beautiful- noble– you’re unbelievably sexy-”

“You got anything I don’t already know?”  Sam’s laughing now, mouth salty from crying, but his smile is real, and he looks up into Steve’s eyes to see all the love and admiration there-

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Birdie.
 I love you.  I love you so much-”  Steve impulsively kisses Sam’s forehead once, twice and squeezes him tight.  
“My little bird…” His hands smooth down to clasp at Sam’s waist-

“And I get scared that it’s gonna go away any day, and I’ll be alone again without the one person who makes any of this make sense.  But I’m WITH you, okay?" 
"Affirmative, Cap-” Sam answers, wrapping his arms around Steve again snug and close.

An hour or so later, after they’ve decided to bring out the ice cream and are eating it together on the couch- and reminiscing about their first impressions of eachother for the umpteenth time—

Somehow they always remember new details, and Sam’s almost in tears again from laughing so hard at Steve’s embarassment at remembering his first approach at Sam–

“Ugggg "That’s how it is—” you must have thought I was SUCH a douchebag- “Hey, it’s me, Steve Rogers!” hurr hurr, look how fast I can run!  Ugggg what a fuckin MEATBALL-“

"Yeah– but you were a cute fuckin meatball- I wanted to throw you a line, you were sinking so hard, I just can’t let a guy crash like that.”  Sam grins up at Steve, because they both know full well that Sam had wanted him even then.

“Have I ever told you I’m nominating you for Sainthood?  I bet being Captain America gets me some pull with the Pope.”

“Lemme know how that turns out, I deserve a little appreciation around here.”  
Steve kisses him quick and easy on the mouth- still a lingering taste of salt, “That’s what I’m here for." 

The magazine gets thrown out the next day and all they hear about it after that is when Natasha will, appropos of nothing, have a laughing fit and the only words they can get out of her are "Mr and Mr Steven Stark pfttttttbbbbbhhhhhh hhahahahaha.”

THAT’S your celebrity crush? idk, he looks too young. you have another one? hmm he seems annoying. oh god the last one is even uglier than the first 2. i really don’t get what you see in them. what? oh no, i uh also have a bunch of male celebrity crushes! like um.. eh… well let me think about it…

I was 21. I was severely depressed. I’d just been released from the hospital after a suicide attempt had me committed for a good 2 weeks. My therapist recommended I get a pet.

I lived with my parents and our landlord vetoed anything that didn’t live in a cage. I settled on a cockatiel and mentioned to a coworker who owned birds that I was going to buy one. She told me if I didn’t mind a rescue I could have one of hers.

She’d rescued him and his cage mate from a severely neglectful situation. They’d both become feather pluckers from all the stress. They weren’t doing well in her busy home and she didn’t have the time or space to rehab them. She didn’t think the cage mate would live so she gave me the healthier bird.

His name was Baldwyn and he was so sweet and kind.

He wasn’t hand trained but he loved to be on people. He was so cheerful and he’d sing all day long. He could sing the star wars death march. He’d sit on your shoulder and give you kisses.

6 months later I asked how the cage mate was doing because I loved Balwdyn so much I wanted another one. She told me she’d scheduled to put him down because he was a hot mess of anxiety and the other birds kept attacking him. He had a benign tumor on his wing and he wasn’t eating. I said what the heck let me take him at least he’ll die a more peaceful death. She reluctantly agreed and gently warned me that she didn’t think he’d last the month.

He was also bald and I named him Beowulf. He was even uglier than Baldwyn and he had literally broken the end of his wing off at some point in his constant panic attacks. He did have the tumor but it didn’t cause him much pain. He fattened right up and sang all the time. He was just as sweet as Balwdyn and they were best friends.

They got me through a really hard time in my life. It’s hard to want to die when something so damaged and pathetic manages to find joy in existing, and that’s what those birds did for me. When my family talks about them, we talk about how happy they were.

Beowulf lived 3 more years. We had Balwdyn for 7 years. They were good boys and I miss them. They’re definitely in heaven somewhere, singing their pure little songs and making the angels smile.