favourite-cup

🌹 ASKS FOR LITTLES 🌹

1. Do you have a Daddy/Mommy/Caregiver?

2. Do you have a favourite stuffie?

3. What’s the name of the first stuffie you got?

4. Who is your favourite Disney Character?

5. Do you have rules from your Daddy/Mommy/Caregiver?

6. What’s your least favourite rule?

7. What’s your favourite cartoon?

8. Do you have a paci?

9. Do you have any cute pets?

10. What’s your favourite colour?

11. Do you have a favourite blankie?

12. What’s your favourite Disney song?

13. What’s your favourite bedtime story?

14. What do you like most about being little?

15. What makes you go into little space?

16. Would you be little 24/7 if you could?

17. Do other people irl know you’re little?

18. What’s your favourite little space snack?

19. Do you have a favourite onesie?

20. What’s your thoughts about diapers?

21. Do you wear diapers?

22. Do you like superheroes?

23. Who is your favourite superhero?

24. What is your little age?

25. What things do you do in little space?

26. When did you know you was a little?

27. If daddies/mommies/caregivers had rules, what would they be?

28. Do you have a bedtime?

29. What’s your favourite thing your daddy/mommy/caregiver does for you in little space?

30. Do you have a little best friend?

31. Do you have any games/apps on your phone for when you’re in little space? What are they called?

32. Do you have a favourite sippy cup?

33. How many sippy cups do you have?

34. Have you ever been to Disney world?

35. Do you like Barbie movies?

36. What’s your favourite animal?

34. Do you have bath toys?

35. What’s your favourite thing about the cglre community?

36. Do you have a plate and cutlery set?

37. Do you have a divided plate?

38. What’s your favourite drink to have in little space?

39. Do you like dinosaurs?

40. What’s your favourite dinosaur?

41. Have you ever been to the zoo with your daddy/mommy/caregiver?

42. Do you dress little in public?

43. Have you ever called your partner daddy/mommy/caregiver in public?

44. What’s your favourite ice cream flavour?

45. What’s your favourite sweeties?

46. Do you like stickers?

47. What’re your favourite sticker?

48. Do you have a favourite colouring book?

49. Do you like to colour in crayons/felt pens or coloured pencils?

50. What advice would you give to new littles in the cglre community?

Arts inspired Asks!
  • Painting: If you could decorate a house, which colours would you paint the walls?
  • Sketch: When you doodle, what do you draw the most?
  • Sculpture: Do you have any figurines in your bedroom?
  • Film: When did you last go to the cinema? What did you see?
  • Photography: Do you use Instagram often?
  • Pigments: What did you wear today?
  • Literature: What's the last book you read?
  • Music: What's the last song you listened to?
  • Ceramics: Do you have a favourite cup/mug?
  • Theatre: Do you prefer plays or musicals?
  • Dance: Have you ever had dance lessons?
  • Architecture: If you could live in any kind of building, which would you pick?

date the being that waters your plants when you forget, that saves your documents before the 1% of battery finally fails, that pushes your favourite cup onto the surface away from the ledge
date the being who worries for and loves you as much as it cares for the things you love but are too reckless to look after.

what to do if you are feeling gross

so sometimes I’m just sitting around being lazy, watching tv or getting distracted by internet things, or I’ve eaten too much or I’ve just had a super long day. and sometimes I’m even aware of how much of a blob I am being, I’m sure this happens to other people, too. anyways I wanted to share this little list to motivate me/others to stop being a blob:

1. very very first thing. shut off your internet. put all the tv and stuff out of reach. this is really important, but you will feel 100% better afterwards.

3. uncover your windows, let natural light filter in. if you can/want to open them, that’s also fantastic. it really helps lighten your mood, always makes me feel more connected with the rest of the world.

2. put on some music. it’s ok to use your phone/computer for this, but remember to just keep it away from arm’s reach. also, you can use whatever music you’d like, but I suggest something soft, like Frank Sinatra or Beegie Adair or Jack Johnson.

3. take a walk. look at the colors and plants people surround themselves with. pick out houses/buildings you like. look at the sky, listen to what’s going on around you. I don’t generally listen to music for this because I like to feel grounded when I walk, but if you’re more of a song person that’s okay, too. it’s really easy to forget how long it’s been since you’ve had some fresh air.

4. take a bath. if it’s hot out, turn on a fan and cool down the room so you’re all cosy in the water, put in some bubbles and scents. grab a book or magazine. exfoliate, do your nails, put on a face mask. throw yourself a little spa day. when you get out, put on lotion, put on new underwear and soft, comfy clothing.

5. make your favourite cup of tea or coffee, or maybe pour yourself some lemonade or just cold water is fine too.

6. go sit in a common area of your house, like a living room or dining table. if you’re not home alone and don’t want to be bothered, gently voice it to the people around you or go sit somewhere else where you feel comfortable and relaxed. just get out of the same walls, find a change of scenery. you could even leave and go to a café or a park if you’d like.

7. do some writing/doodling. whenever this happens, I always like to use a spare piece of printer paper or something not connected to a notebook so I’m less attached to it and less likely to care about the way it looks. let the pen do its own thing, don’t worry about messing up. if you feel that you’re getting frustrated, step away and do something else.

8. make some lists. this is one of my favourite pastimes. list nice things that you’ve seen recently that you think you’ll forget later on. list little details of your dreams, list things you want to do in your favourite season, list recipes you’d like to try. the possibilities are endless.

9. cook/bake something. important reminders—if you don’t find this relaxing, don’t do it!! find another hobby that you love where you can enjoy doing something productive. also, even if you’re making something fantastic, be sure not to snack too much or overeat (I’m very prone to this). you could also make something for a friend or a neighbour!! people always enjoy a heartfelt craft made by someone who cares.

10. catch up with an old friend or family member. ask them out for coffee or something, it’s always nice to talk. trust me, they will very much appreciate you reaching out.

11. write a letter to someone. you do not have to send it.

12. go to a park and look at the flowers or sit in the grass. grab a sketchbook, some sudoku, a book, a puzzle, your thoughts, or anything else you could tinker with while enjoying the fresh air. something to make your brain work a little.


there’s more, of course, but this is all I can really come up with at the moment—I hope it works! now get off that web and have a good time!!

Seven Minutes In Heaven (With Seventeen)

Summary: A simple little party in someone’s basement while their parents weren’t home. A simple little game meant for horny preteens trying to get to second base. It’s not supposed to be make or break for your heart, right? Right? Fluff. Multi-chap. 

(A/N: Okay, so I don’t know if any of my followers remember Quizilla. But Quizilla was my first ever fanfiction website. And long before I was writing fanfiction and posting it there, I was reading. And obviously, with a name like Quizilla, the primary formatting of their website was quizzes. This meant that the fanfic writers there actually came up with something very creative - a choose your own adventure style fanfic, usually seven minutes in heaven. I saw these everywhere. If you were in a fandom at the time then there was a 99% chance that a seven minutes in heaven quiz existed for that fandom. Most of the ones I read at the time were about Harry Potter. So anyway I’ll probably explain more about this concept if asked, but I think you’ll get it as you go along. If you have read the Quizilla ones then you’ll get it right off the bat. I’ve always always always wanted to do one of these and I thought Seventeen was the perfect fandom to do it for. I’m gonna have so much fun with this. I think the only warnings are under aged drinking and light promiscuity?? Whatever have fun reading. This is just the prelude before all the individual members parts, but I do recommend reading for set up. -Tanisha<3)

You got invited to parties like this more often than you went to them. You found it more boring going out like this than anything. Your friend group had an odd mixture of people who were of the drinking age and just under, leaving you all with an odd conundrum - the older ones buying alcohol (never anything too heavy) and simply watching in amusement of how the younger ones couldn’t hold their illegal booze. This always gave these parties a distinctly ‘teenage’ vibe. Usually in someone’s basement, or in a dark backyard when parents weren’t home, with Top 40 music blasting in the background for people to embarrass themselves to.

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Dating would include – Assassin's Creed Syndicate

Originally posted by hellomikky

Jacob Frye 

  • Well, the two of you usually can be found in the fight club 
  • Eventually you patch up Jacob after his last fight 
  • Or Evie has to take care of both of you 
  • It really depends on your mood 
  • “Yes, Evie. That guy deserved every punch." 
  • But to be honest you two are always up to cause mischief 
  •  ”[Y/N], Jacob, what have you done this time?!“ 
  • "We did nothing! … Oh, that. Yeah, we did that." 
  • Giving each other nicknames … all the time 
  • "Love” - “Angel” - “Dear” - “Could you two stop?!" 
  • Jacob is a big fan of public display of affection 
  • The people need to know you are his better half 
  • … and he would be lost without your kisses 
  • Seriously every kind of kiss 
  • "I want all of them, love." 
  • After a hard mission he needs you wrapped up in his arms 
  • Jacob’s mixed scent of smoke, beer and himself lures you in 
  • "Why do I smell beer on you, Jacob?" 
  • … "I think Evie calls me!" 
  • He makes sure you keep up your training 
  • Driven by his fear to lose you forever 
  • Even if he knows you can handle yourself just fine 
  • Him not being able to take his eyes off of you when you plan your mission 
  • The satisfied smirk on your lips makes his knees weak 
  • "Stop drooling, brother dearest." 
  • Randomly he wraps you up in his arms to get his daily dose of cuddles 
  • The two of you get comfortable on his favourite but little settee 
  • Resting your head on his chest, while his arms hold you close 
  • The closer the better 
  • His steady breathing making you sleepy 
  • "God, you are adorable, love." 
  • The two of you are barely fighting 
  • And if you do, it will be solved in the fight club later 
  • "I’m not going to hit you!" 
  • "Good, then it is going to be easier for me!" 
  • Don’t worry neither of you gets harmed, because you end up in a heated kiss 
  • "I don’t think you know how much you mean to me, [Y/N]." 
  • Evie approves your relationship without a doubt 
  • You are good for Jacob and vice versa 
  • And foremost you make each other happy 
  • Jacob could never think of someone else taking your place 
  • You are the only one he will ever love the way he does right now 
  • And occasionally the Assassin tells you his feelings in an unknown serious tone 
  • "I truly love you with every fibre of my body, love. You accept every flaw I have. You adore every insecurity I have -" 
  • "Shut up and kiss me, Jacob." 
  • Your wish is his command 

Originally posted by diospyros-05

Evie Frye

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archiveofourown.org
Britain's Favourite Summer Cup | Archive of Our Own
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Sherlock clears his throat and widens his stance. The Belstaff hides the evidence, as it were, and he feels the heavy weight between his legs with a uniquely curious awareness, as though he’d been caught nicking sweets and is now forced to empty his pockets in public.

See, John? What do you to me? I’ve got proof.

_______________________________________________________________________

I made a thing after a long time of not making things! 

First chapter of short WIP (three chapters). Next chapter will be up in a day or so!

anonymous asked:

Hey! This might seem random, but can you write something where you become friends with your ex-boyfriend again. And slowly open up to him and he blows it and you get into a massive fight where he criticises your relationship with Harry, and you're like "well you could have had a family! You could have had me!"

omg i love this sm


“Maybe you should call him back.”

You look over at Harry, who stands in the corner of the living room with a bunch of envelopes in his hand. You frown and tilt your head, sighing, “Is it from Finn again?”

He nods and presses his lips into a thin mmhm, then he starts to carefully peel open an envelope. You turn your attention back to the television because Blair Waldorf’s life was way more interesting than whatever apology Finn had, no matter how elegantly his words seemed to flow on the page. But then Harry has your attention again and you find yourself standing up and walking towards your boyfriend of two years, snatching the envelopes out of his hand.

“What’s so funny?” But you don’t ask so much as state sarcastically and Harry chuckles deeply, shaking his wet curls in your face before pressing a kiss on the side of your neck.

“You should talk to him,” your boyfriend laughs. “Put the poor bloke out of his misery.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you wait until Harry crashes onto the couch to peer down curiously at the newest letter from Finn. Finn was your ex-boyfriend, who you had broken up with you over the phone…and left the country for six months and answered none of your calls and texts. It took you one whole year to heal and then you met Harry, who was so kind and patient and supportive.

It was only after paparazzi’s had leaked pictures of you and Harry that Finn contacted you again. But you did not contact him back. So he kept sending letters and gifts through the mail–for about five months now.

You have never opened one…until now.

The first line made you gag. 

Dear beloved,

You catch sight of Harry staring at you from your peripheral vision.

I don’t know why I keep sending you these letters when you clearly aren’t reading them, but I can’t help thinking that one day you will. So here goes–

I’m still in love with you. It was a mistake letting you go. I’m in town just a few more days until I’m moving to Paris…why? I need a new start, that’s all. And what’s a better place to go than the city of love?

Anyways, I hope you will meet me at the coffee place down at sixth street (the one where we first met). I’ll be there waiting all day, every day, for you.

I hope to see you.

Finn.

“You should go,” Harry tells you as soon as you climb onto the sofa and snuggle up by his side.

“Why should I?” You counter, although you gripped the letter in your hand tightly. No matter what he did, his words still fell through to you. After all, he was your first love. “I have you and that’s all that matters.”

Harry kisses your shoulder and murmurs, “I know. That’s why I feel very secure about you going to meet up with him and not go crawling back to him.” You roll your eyes playfully and he continues, “Plus, he’s moving away. What harm is there to meet him one last time.”

You frown, scrunching your nose up. Harry plants one last kiss on your cheek before announcing, “I’m gonna go make a cup of tea.” But before he can exit the room, he jokes, “And who knows? Maybe he won’t even be there.”

Yeah, you smile. Maybe he might’ve already moved away.


Nope.

He’s still here.

And he’s looking right at you through the coffee shop window, all your plans of running away vanishing.

“Y/N.” He breathes your name like it will grant him his greatest desire. Your heart is pounding so hard you’re scared it might fall out of your chest. You take the seat across from him, and you see he has already ordered your favourite cup of coffee–with no prior knowledge if you were coming.

The small gesture touched your heart.

Maybe Harry was right. It was good to have some closure.

“How are you?” You ask, and then immediately regret it. 

But he laughs, and you’re stunned for a second. You could never recall the sound of his laughter, but here he was, laughing in front of you. Like he never hurt you. Like you never hurt him.

Laughing, like lovers do.

“Better,” he answers after a beat. “Now that you’re here,” he clarifies.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat and sip your coffee to avoid making eye contact. You could sense his gaze on you like a pile of rocks barreling down a cliff. God, why am I here?

“How are you?” He counters, the skin beside his eyes crinkling as he forces his lips up into a smile.

“Good,” you blurt out quickly. You were trying to think of the most casual word you could throw out there without Finn wincing, but he did all the same.

He clears his throat, and if it wasn’t awkward before, it sure was awkward now. “You and Harry?” He says, but it’s more like a question. As if he’s asking why him? 

“Mmhm,” you continue to sip your coffee like nothing was wrong.

But Finn is not satisfied with your answer, or more specifically, lack of. “Does that pop star make you happy?” He asks, raising his voice a little louder, making you glance around the cafe. Luckily everyone was sucked into the morning crowd and didn’t notice the scene that was about to happen.

“He does make me happy,” you answer him truthfully. You pause, then add, “Please don’t be upset.”

Finn scoffs, “Upset? Why would I be upset? All I want is for you to be happy.” His hand slithers across the table until it’s firmly placed on top of yours. “All I want is for you to be happy.” He says those words slowly, as if trying to lure you back towards his heart.

But with one clean swipe you pull your hand from under his and say, “I am happy. With Harry. So–”

“Oh, cut this bullshit!” Finn throws his hands up in the air and his coffee mug is knocked onto the floor, where it shatters into a hundred pieces. You press your eyes shut, and the whole cafe is silent. “You’re not happy with him!”

Yes I am, Finn,” you spit out the words and he rises slowly out of his chair. You do the same. You are not going to be overpowered by him. Not anymore. “He’s my family.”

“No, his fans are his family!” Finn exclaims, and if it weren’t for the table between you two and the massive crowd of people staring, you think he might’ve started choking you. “His fans and his band members are his family! He doesn’t need you! I need you! I have no one!” 

“WELL, THAT’S YOUR OWN DOING, ISN’T IT?” You scream, tears running down your cheeks. You can feel yourself starting to shake. “That’s your own damn fault because you could’ve had a family. You could’ve had me.”

“Maybe…I still could?” Finn looks up at you with those baby blue eyes. And if he was standing in front of you six months ago, you might’ve fell for them.

But you fell for Harry instead.

“Go have a nice life, Finn,” you say as you bend down and retrieve your things. “And if you try to contact me again I’ll have a restraining order filed against you.”

as a huge thank you for 2k *internal screech* here is my first tumblr awards! (so if it flops, we roll with it idc) 

R U L E S :- 

  • mbf this coffee hater (dat me *finger guns*)
  • reblogs count as entries! 
  • (!!!) put the “optional” categories you wish to enter in the tags of your reblog! 
  • (opt.) check out my sideblog @versaillcs and also @flintwoods!
  • ends 7 march (36 days! yup i just plucked a date out of thin air oop)

C A T E G O R I E S :- 

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under my skin - one

one || the playful conversation starts

“Thank you.” She says and he grins. “I still hate you for saying I’m late and boring, though.”

“Haters gonna hate,” he sings, giving her finger guns as he rolls away from her desk and back to his.

read below || story page

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Not alone

John put their cups on the kitchen counter and poured the last drips of milk into their teas. “Anything I can get you from Tesco? Seems we ran out of um… Apparently everything.“ 
Sherlock didn’t respond, he just ended his quiet sonate. The whole night he had been playing his violin. All of John’s favourites. 
John placed the cups on the desk before he let himself fall into his chair, cupping his tea with both hands. 
"So, anything planned for today? A case, ruining Mrs. Hudson’s china or are you finally planning on getting rid of the ears?” John tried to get at least the hint of a smile out of Sherlock, who has been focusing on his cup, running his slender fingers over the notes on the desk. 
“Throw the ears away." 
"Are you sure? You’ve been working on this for weeks, you wouldn’t let me come near-”
“Garbage. Today.” Sherlock remained stone-faced.
“Fine, good. As you wish.” he threw his hands up in surrender.
Sherlock’s expression shifted, now showing worry, even sympathy. 
“John we-” he took a deep breath at the pure anticipation John offered him. “you need to stop this." 
John’s heart clenched, he kept on smiling. 
"Stop what?" 
"You know exactly what I’m talking about." 
He knew. "No, I- don’t" 
"For God’s sake John! Wake up. I’m not here.”
“You do this all the time, why can’t I-”
“Did." 
The flat went quiet. Just the steady noises from the busy street reached his ears. He couldn’t look at Sherlock, not now. 
"I think I should get ready. Appointment with Ella. I want to finish the groceries beforehand. Risotto for dinner? What you think?" 
A tremor forced him to clench his left hand as he stood up. 
He would buy mushrooms, Sherlock always liked that. And milk, he mustn’t forget about the milk. 
"John, please.” Sherlock’s voice was just a whisper.
And maybe a new bottle of scotch. 

John scooped the burned risotto into the bin, fully aware that Sherlock was surveying him, disapprovingly so.
“There’s still a can of beans behind the tea." 
"I think I’ll let it be for tonight. Sorry I’ll make up for it tomorrow.” John sounded defeated. He felt defeated, by goddamn risotto. 
“You shouldn’t be drinking." 
"Doesn’t mean I can’t.” he said raising his glass in Sherlock’s direction before taking a huge gulp. John edged past him, his glass in the left, the alarmingly light bottle of scotch in the right. 
Sherlock sat in his chair, hands folded in his lap, his eyes sharp as a knife observing John’s every move. 
“Could you- not do that” he mumbled casually. The alcohol was already paralyzing his tounge, making his skin warm and almost numb. Numb was good. Better than the alternative. Numb was bearable.
“Do what?" 
"Condemning every single decision I take." 
"I could. As soon as you stop condemning every single decision you take.”
Very funny. Hilarious indeed. Another gulp. 
“Touché” he ran lazy circles on the fabric of his chair. 
“So what your therapist said today…” Sherlock leaned forward.
“I don’t wanna talk about it." 
"Yeah, that’s what you told her." 
A bitter laugh escaped John’s throat. 
"You need to get it out." 
More Scotch. 
"What for?! It wouldn’t make a difference.”
“Right. Better keep up with the drinking. If you’re lucky you won’t even last two more weeks.” Sherlock has always been a righteous arse, but he has never been this- mean.  Not to him.
“Then I should probably try harder.” The faint of a broken smile played around his lips. 

Minutes passed without a word. Not a single sound would break the silence. His throat burned, the pattern on the wall was nothing more than a blurred puddle, made no sense. Nothing made sense. 
“Go to bed.” Sherlock’s voice was so calm, so quiet, as if he was afraid to scare John. 
He didn’t respond, just tried to get up, kicking over the bottle of Scotch at his feet. He needed to force himself not to reach for it and throw it against the next wall. 
Slow unsteady steps, clumsily hitting every piece of furniture in his way. 
Sherlock was in front of him, moving motionless, like a statue, slightly blurred maybe due to the alcohol, maybe because he began to- it must have been the scotch. It must.
He heard murmurs, voices, muffeled, far away. Cars and wind and-
“John. Call someone. You shouldn’t be alone right now." 
Silence.
"I…I’m, I’m not alone." 
"John.” Sherlock still didn’t move, a figure of marble, poorly lit by the kitchen lights. 
He felt panic creeping up, everything seemed distorted. The room, his voice, Sherlock. 
He kept hold of the table, resisting the urge of letting himself fall to the floor. 
“I’ll be fine. I’ll be. You’re here.” John’s voice cracked. “You won’t leave." 
"John!” Sherlock was pleading, almost screaming his name. 
“You can’t. Y-you won’t do this. Please.” Shivers ran down his spine, he could feel the cold breeze on his skin. Please. Distinct voices, alarmed, yelling. 
“Goodbye John.” Those very familiar words. Just centimetres separated them. But his voice, tinny and so far away. 
“No. No.” John closed his eyes. “Stop. Don’t! Stop!” He sobbed, his whole body was trembling.
A dull crack and then- nothing. Except for John’s short sobs. His nails were digging into the table, his last sense of reality. 
“John. John open your eyes." 
"No." 
"Look at me.” He felt so close, his tone so clear. 
His body was disobeying him, but eventually he opened his eyes, blinked away hot tears, still not daring to look up. Counting tiles around their feet to calm the fear. 
“Good. Now look at my face.” Sherlock paused for a second. “please." 
Ever so slowly he let his eyes move upwards, along the buttons of the Bellstaff, over the collar of his shirt, his pale neck and jaw. 
"Please” John begged. He didn’t want to.
Blood ran down Sherlock’s face, thick drops, creating the perfect contrast to his skin, coming from a deep wound on his forehead. His curls, dampened, glued together shimmering red in the light. Eyes wide open, staring into the void expressing the absence of everything. 
John’s lips began to quiver.
“Sher- please talk to me.” His voice broke.
Sherlock remained silent.
“Sherlock!” John cried out, drool running from his mouth. “Please. Please. Please. Please.” He reached out for Sherlock’s cheek, but before his fingers could touch his skin Sherlock laid on the floor, limps spread morbidly into all directions, his cold eyes still fixed on John.
John slipped on to his knees, bending forward, holding himself, sobbing. ‘It’s not real. It’s not real.’ He repeated it over and over. Almost choking on his own saliva. 
“It may not be real. But it’s reality.” The voice came from behind. Calm, steady, naturally cold. 
“I, this, this can’t be. What can I do?” It was still hard to talk. His throat burned, he felt like vomiting.
“Nothing." 
"Nothing.” He scoffed turning his head in the direction of Sherlock’s voice. 
“I- it needs to stop. Just make it go away. How can I make it stop?" 
"Accept it." 
John crawled over to the wall and sat down. His head fell back, beside him sat Sherlock, in his favorite dressing gown, perfectly fine, smiling sadly at him.
"How could I? I had to watch my best friend jump to his death right in front of my own eyes. How’s that acceptable?" 
"It’s not." 

John sighed, it’s been almost an hour since either of them said something. At least his mind stopped playing tricks on him.
"I’m sorry." 
Sherlock looked puzzled, just raised an eyebrow.
"I- I shouldn’t have said that. That ‘machine’ thing. It’s my fault." 
"John, stop it." 
"It’s true, isn’t it. I deserve this. It- you should haunt me for the rest of my life." 
Sherlock laid his hand on John’s and for the breath of a moment he imagined he could feel the weight, the warmth. 
"It’s not. And you know this." 
"It’s not fair.”
“No it’s not. Death is never-”
“That’s not what I meant. You know, holding a monologue, your 'note’, without even giving me the chance to say something, anything." 
Sherlock turned his head to the side, now looking directly into John’s eyes. "Then say it now.” His face was all edges, sharp lines and still it was the softest thing John ever laid his eyes on.
“It won’t change a thing.”
“It won’t." 
John smiled. Earnest. 
"I love you." 
Only a vaguely perceptible tremor in the corner of Sherlock’s mouth and wet eyes testified that he heard those three words.
John took a deep breath, saying it, out loud, hearing himself uttering these words. Making it real. He expected pain, despair, sorrow, instead he felt calm for the first time in weeks. 
"And now?” He asked facing away.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing.”


A little post Reichenbach fic that has been floating around in my drafts since tld.
Ankita’s little thread today reminded me of it, I hope you like it 😈 @love-in-mind-palace

anonymous asked:

Hc for Yukio and Ryuji helping their s/o who suffer from insomnia ?

Yukio:

Originally posted by yaoisex

  • Would  probably tell them to ‘just try sleep’
  • Would try support them but wouldn’t really know how too
  • He will monitor what you’ve been drinking and if that could effect your insomnia further
  • Urge you to talk to your doctor about some solutions to help you
  • Would try his own remedies he creates with herbs and such from Shiemi’s store 
  • Would rub your back to try relax you

Ryuji:

Originally posted by elliejoys

  • He would try be as supportive as possible
  • He would even attempt to stay awake with you as long as needed
  • Ends up falling asleep though, but you don't mind
  • He feels sheepish and apologies for it when he wakes up
  • Bon would make you hot chocolate before bed to try help you sleep
  • Konekomaru probably made it (but Bon helped a little, he fetched your favourite cup and poured in a ratchet, what a good boy!!)
  • He would hold you close and cuddle you all night long
Cutie Pie You Make Me Smile

To celebrate my 500 Followers I wrote this fluffy One-Shot for you. Enjoy and thank you all for supporting me ♥♥♥

Summary: You’re having a bad day and Bucky makes it his mission to cheer you up.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff

Word Count: 1729

★☆★ MASTERLIST ★☆★


You hate feeling this way. From time to time the depressions take the upper hand and you just felt like shit, but Bucky was the best boyfriend you could have wished for when you’re having one of those bad days. He was caring, understanding and did everything he could to make you feel comfortable, loved, and most of all not alone.

First when you started a relationship with him, you tried to hide your depressions from him, feeling ashamed of being weak and misunderstood. Bucky, as an ex-assassin, quickly found out about your condition and showered you with love and affection. Promised you he would always be there for you, not matter what. He told you he fell in love with you from the very first time he led eyes on you and he loved you wholeheartedly, all of you.

You woke up this morning feeling depressed, not even thinking of getting out to bed. You only wanted to hide under the blanket and stay in bed all day. You were just about to turn around, pressing your face into the soft pillow, when suddenly strong arms, one flesh, one metal, cuddled you against a firm chest. “Good morning, love.” Bucky’s still sleepy voice made a smile appear on your lips.

You only hummed, pressing your body more against the warmth of Bucky’s. He peppered your face with kisses, rubbing your back soothingly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

It was simply amazing that he always knew when you would have one of your bad days. He made sure to shower you with affection, making it his mission to bring a smile on your face. Last time he prepared a picnic in Central Park for you, took you out for a romantic dinner afterwards and lay with you under the night sky, on the roof of the Avengers Tower, for star-gazing.

“How about you sleep for a while longer, love. I’m gonna wake you up when breakfast is ready.” Bucky gave you a kiss on the lips. You gripped his shirt, kissing him a second time, before he could move out of the bed. “I love you, Bucky.” You mumbled against his soft lips. “I love you too, baby girl.”

☆☆☆

You were slightly shaken awake by Bucky placing a loving kiss on your forehead. “Time to wake up, sleepy head.” He gave you a cup of freshly brewed coffee, served in your favourite cup. The one he bought the first time you celebrated your anniversary as a couple. He actually bought two cups, because they were supposed to be for couples, two perfect fitting counterparts. Along with the cups, he even got you matching couple sweatshirts, because you always stole his and this way you would proudly wear your own all the time.

On your sweatshirt written was Bucky’s girlfriend, while on his was [Y/N]’s boyfriend. Bucky totally was into the whole matching couple stuff, which you found incredibly cute. Who would have thought the former Winter Soldier was in reality a giant big hearted teddy bear?!

“Come on, sweetheart. Breakfast is waiting in the kitchen. Aaaand…” Bucky smiled with glowing eyes, clearly happy and excited. “…after breakfast we’re gonna make some cupcakes!”

You almost choked on your coffee. “Bucky, you never made cupcakes before and me neither.” “I know!” He cheered. “This is gonna be so much fun!” You couldn’t help but smile at his good mood.

☆☆☆

Baking cupcakes with Bucky was indeed fun, but it all ended in a disaster. When you both finished decorating them all and were about to try each one of them, you spit everything out you had in your mouths. “Bucky! You mixed up salt and sugar!” You screamed, face twisted  in disgust, the taste still evident on your tongue. Bucky’s face was priceless. It was a mixture of a kicked puppy and a distasteful grimace. You bursted out laughing and Bucky followed your example straightaway.

“I’m sorry, doll. I really didn’t mean to screw up the cupcakes.” You kissed him on the cheek, putting your arms around his neck. “Don’t be. You distracted me and made me forget about my depression. You’re the sweetest boyfriend.”

“So, you’re not mad at me?” Bucky asked pouting like a little child. “I could never be mad at you, Bucky.” You responded sincerely. “Luckily for me, baking cupcakes wasn’t my only surprise for you today. Give me a few minutes.” Bucky was already walking hastily out of the kitchen. “Babe, you don’t need to.” You yelled after him.

“You know I would do it anyway, doll.” He hollered back. “Yeah, I know.” You muttered thankfully only for yourself to hear. You wondered everyday, what you did to deserve such an astounding man. You knew with all your being you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. You would be the luckiest, most happiest girl in the whole wide world, walking down the aisle to marry Bucky, starting a family with him, growing old together.

Before you got the chance to sink further into daydreams of your future with Bucky, he came back. He gripped your left hand with his metal one, blow a kiss onto the back and guided you through your shared bedroom into the bathroom.

The bathroom was only illuminated by candles, evenly distributed around the bathtub. Red rose petals were floating in the foamy water on the surface. The bathroom smelled like vanilla, making you instantly relax at the familiar scent.

Bucky kissed your neck and was just about to leave the bathroom, when you stopped him by grabbing his elbow. “Where do you think you’re going?” You asked curiously. “Well I thought I would leave you alone to unwind properly.” “Strip, dork. You’re getting in with me. No back talk!” You turned around, discarding your clothes in no time, not even looking behind you, if Bucky did the same. You stepped into the warm soothing water, sitting down, a pleasured sigh leaving your lips.

The water swashed slightly, as Bucky got into the tub behind you. He pushed your back close against his muscular chest, putting his arms around you and kissing your temple. You closed your eyes, releasing the tension in every one of your muscles. You intertwined your hands with Bucky’s in the front of your stomach, laying your head on his right shoulder, smiling satisfied.

You and Bucky didn’t exchange a word, you didn’t need to speak to understand the other. This peaceful moment between the two of you was too perfect to be disturbed with talking. You stayed in the bathtub until the water got cold. After you and Bucky dried off, he directed you only wrapped up in a towel to the bed.

“Lay down, [Y/N]. I’m gonna give you a massage.” Bucky whispered in your right ear, letting his lips wander down over your delicate neck, touching your skin only lightly with his lips.

“You don’t…” Bucky muted you with a kiss on your lips. “I want to. I know you can sleep better after I give you a massage. So come on, doll. You know there is no point in arguing with me anyway. I’m stubborn as a mule.” He chuckled.     
Another smile made itself evident on your face as you laid down on your stomach. You folded your arms under your head to use them as a pillow, while Bucky lathered massage oil on your back.

Moans left your lips, every time Bucky kneaded a particularly hard knot out. While Bucky continued the massage, you must have felt to sleep. You woke up when you felt him getting under the covers beside you, cuddling you tight against his side. “Bucky?” You whispered, sleep evident in your voice. “Yes, love?” “I love you so much. How can you still not be bugged by me and my mood swings? Every single time you do everything in your power to cheer me up. You have so much baggage already and still you bother to help me with my depressions. Why?”

Bucky lay his metal fingers under your chin, lifting it up to make you look right into his bright blue eyes. All you could see in them was love. “You know why I bother to help you with your depressions? Because I. love. you. I love you with all your mood swings. I love you on your good days. I love you on your bad days. And I will always do everything I can to make you smile. Because when you smile, [Y/N], you make me fall in love with you all over again. When you smile you make my day brighter. When you smile you push my nightmares a little bit further back. When you smile I know I did something right. That I am still, somewhere inside of me, a good man. The person I used to be. Because when someone as pure as yourself smiles because of me, then I believe there is still hope for me. And that’s why I will keep putting a smile on your beautiful face as often I can. And when it comes to me, I will continue making you smile for the rest of our lives.”

Out of nowhere Bucky held a black square box in his metal hand. My eyes already were full of tears as a loud gasp escaped me at the elegant golden ring in front of me. On top of the ring were three diamonds. A big one in the middle, surrounded by two smaller ones on either side of it. “[Y/N] [Y/M/N] [Y/L/N], I can’t imagine growing old with anyone else, nor do I want to. There are many ways to be happy in this life, but all I really need is you. When I look into your eyes, I can see a reflection of the two of us and the life I hope we’ll share together. And when I see your smile, I know my life will never be complete without you beside me to share it. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes, yes, yes! Thousand times yes! I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” You both kissed passionately, before falling to sleep in each other’s arms. Tomorrow beginning a brand new day with new challenges, but also starting a new life together as one.             


Well, I hope you all like it! Let me know what you think about it.
Feel free to message me anytime! I love to hear from you ♥♥♥

TAGS: @belleetlabeast

anonymous asked:

For the send me a ship ask I send you Gladnis cos I like the way you write them

Who is a night owl: Neither. Ignis will, however, stay up until he’s got everything done that he needs to, while Gladio will be getting ready for bed, showering, and will occasionally come out into the study wearing just a white towel around his waist, his hair dripping, and he’ll lean over Ignis while he’s working at his computer, and massage his shoulders. Gladio gets distracted from the massage and begins to leave kisses on Ignis’ neck and on the nape of his neck in particular. Ignis tries so hard to tell him off, but he loves it so much he can’t be stern with him. Gladio will occasionally distract him completely by sucking him off while he’s still at his desk. This reduces Ignis’ stress levels drastically, but also means he struggles to return to work to finish it afterwards. Usually, because this man has superhuman willpower, he will manage, and then he’ll shower, and go in to find Gladio fast asleep on the bed, covers drawn back, his glorious body on display (see below for sleeping positions)

Who is a morning person: Gladio has kind of programmed his internal clock to wake him up at around six so he can go for a relaxing morning jog – nothing too strenuous as he spends literally all day in the training centre at the citadel, but he likes to loosen up. Iggy wakes up at the same time, but literally cannot function without Gladio bringing him an espresso first. Gladio rises first, doesn’t shower because he’s going for that run, goes to the kitchen to the coffee machine, and grabs a bottle of water for himself while it’s whirring away. He takes Ignis’ favourite hand-made espresso cup to him along with the newspaper while Ignis is still in bed, possibly finding one of his daggers lancing through Ignis’ phone to shut the damned thing up. He chuckles, kisses Ignis’ forehead, and leaves him with the coffee and paper to become human again while he’s out on his run.

Are they cuddlers: Gladio is a huge cuddler. He can’t help it. He adores Ignis so much, and his way of showing his affection is through cuddles. Whether the advisor has just walked out of a meeting or through the front door of their apartment, Gladio will hug him. He hugs him when he’s exhausted, encircling him in his huge, gentle arms, stroking Ignis’ soft, greying hair, and taking his glasses tenderly off his face so he can run the pad of his thumb quietly over Ignis’ eyebrows and press his temples. He hugs him when he’s excited, when Iris graduates from highschool with amazing results, when he gets a new personal best at the gym, when Iggy manages to formulate the words ‘I love you too’ (he’s not very demonstrative with his love, but he loves Gladio dearly)

Who is the big spoon and who is the little spoon: Gladio is bigspoon. He loves nothing more than cuddling Ignis in bed, wrapping himself around Ignis and coaxing the tension out of his body, stroking his hair, playing with his hipbones, pressing his hard cock against Ignis just to hear him groan with pleasure…

What is their favourite sleeping position: Gladio usually starts off by spooning Ignis, but when the human furnace/behemoth becomes too much for Ignis, a delicate and well-placed dig in the ribs from Ignis will get Gladio to roll onto his back. Ignis always hopes that Gladio will roll all the way over onto his other side, but he never does. He just stops half way, one arm thrown back over his head, snoring like a garula with a cold.

Who steals all the blankets: Ignis. He’s coldblooded, and Gladio doesn’t need them anyway. He does a wonderful impression of a mummy, all bundled up in the bedclothes, sometimes leaving even Gladio shivering in the winter, unable to extricate his boyfriend from the folds of crisp white duvet, so he just spoons the whole bundle in the hopes of drawing some warmth from it. Ignis is utterly unapologetic about this behaviour.

What they wear to bed: Gladio – winter outfit: tight black boxers. Summer outfit: nothing. Ignis – winter outfit: dark coloured fleece pyjama bottoms and a black t-shirt. Summer outfit: silk pyjama bottoms and nothing on top, much to Gladio’s delight. He loves Ignis’ torso. It’s so lean and muscular, and he can’t restrain himself from touching him, pressing his body against Ignis’ and running his palm over Ignis’ marble chest and abs. This usually causes much trouble for Gladio…

Who likes seeing the other wearing their t-shirt: Ignis knows how low-key possessive Gladio is of him. It’s not that he’s controlling or anything, but he just loves Ignis so damned much, that when he sees him in a hoody or a shirt of his, especially if it’s a weekend and Ignis isn’t in his trademark suit and smart shirt combo, it makes Gladio weak at the knees. He usually ends up growling softly when he sees it and coming over to him and planting a soft kiss on his neck, running his hands up Ignis’ sculpted arms, and then pulling him in for a deeply passionate kiss. Words are often whispered by one or other of the boys, which invariably leads to sexy times then or later, depending on where they are when this happens. Ignis knows just how dangerous it is for Gladio to see him wearing one of his shirts, and he makes the most of it. He is a master strategist after all.

Who falls asleep mid-conversation: Ignis. Occasionally it will get too much for him, and he will neglect his own sleep in favour of work, and he’ll just keel over or drop off spontaneously when he’s at home, and when the caffeine has run out. One time he fell asleep at the dinner table and Gladio had to carry him to bed.

Who wakes up in the middle of the night with nightmares: Gladio. His greatest fear is not being able to protect his loved ones and fulfil his duty to Noctis. He will wake with a bellow, sweating, chest heaving at 2am with images of Noctis’ limp and bloody corpse on a spike or dangling from an MT’s hand or something, or, gods forbid, Iris being taken by the empire. Ignis will wake instantly and reach for him, running his hand over his shoulders, giving him time to breathe and to realise it was just a nightmare, before coaxing him to lie back down beside him. Gladio will lower his cheek onto Ignis’ chest, curled up against him, while Ignis strokes his long hair back, nails raking gently against the scalp and the shaved sides, while Gladio breathes in the scent of Ignis’ skin and eventually calms down.

Who accidentally punched the other in their sleep: Gladio. He has no idea how much he moves around in his sleep. Once he’s gone under, Ignis doesn’t move for the whole night, usually bundled up in about 90% of the duvet, but Gladio gets too hot and thrashes, and then has to roll over and retrieve the blankets from Ignis when he’s got a bit too chilly. He has a lot of very vivid dreams and he has been known to lash out in his sleep. Ignis spent a week with a gradually colour-changing bruise on his cheekbone which he had to say he got during a ‘training incident’ because Gladio punched him in the face one night. Gladio felt terrible and bought Ignis the best ground coffee Insomnia has to offer and bunches of flowers for the entirety of that week.

Who can’t keep their hands to themselves: Neither, depending on what mood they’re in. Ignis is sometimes hard to get going, but if Gladio has managed to work him up during the day by teasing him, perhaps Ignis has come to watch Noctis train so that he can report back to Regis on the prince’s progress, and Gladio has been shamelessly showing off for him, top naked, then Ignis finds it hard to keep his hands to himself that night. Ignis also love it when Gladio is reading on the sofa and he comes up and lies along the length of his body, pressing against him and nuzzling up underneath his book so that he has to set it down and attend to his partner. Gladio does not object to this happening. Ever. Ignis also has been known to cause problems for Gladio during formal events. He knows what will get Gladio hot under the collar, and will occasionally adjust his glasses, or take them off altogether (fatal move Ignis) and slowly and quietly drive Gladio insane from a distance. When Ignis is cooking, Gladio finds it incredibly difficult not to come up behind him and start running his tongue around Ignis’ ear, or sliding his big hands down the waistband of Ignis’ trousers. One time, when it was really hot in the summer, Ignis agreed to take his shirt off – but not the apron of course! – while he was cooking, and Gladio got such a raging hard-on that Ignis had to turn off the cooker and leave it all and take care of Gladio.

I hope you liked this! If you want more, send me a ship and I’ll give you my headcanons for it :D