he actually gardens so this is perfect

Facts about Damien:

1.  writes narusasu bdsm fanfiction

2. likes to write actual letters

3.  is way into being goth and has a special interest in it

4.  thinks about death a lot and has great opinions about it

5.  is canonically trans

6.  eats vegetarian burgers

7.  volunteers at an animal shelter and wears glasses, loves dogs too

8.  enjoys gardening and flowers

9.  is very well spoken and has a wide vocabulary

10.  is a really good dad to lucien

11.  puts work into his home and making it look a certain way even if no one gets it, and is proud of his home

12.  likes tiny cakes and tea

13.  likes oil paintings

14.  is scared of horror movies

15.  is a tad socially awkward

16.  works as an IT nerd

17.  is very good friends with Mary

18.  is overall passionate about everything he does

Midsummer Queen - Thor x Reader

@audreythetealovingcat, There was indeed a few request for the batboys, but surprisingly enough, Thor was also up there…So here, I’m giving you some Thor dude, hope you guys’ll like it (mehmehmeh) : 

Summary : Reader is in an established relationship with Thor, and he decides to finally take her to Asgard. She’s not sure she likes the idea…

(My masterlist blog here : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com)


You almost threw up. 

You weren’t really expecting the travel from Earth to Asgard to be this…special. Your entire reality warped, extended, everything went so fast and was so bright and oh my god why so many different colors…and then all of a sudden, it stopped, leaving you wanting to vomit your guts everywhere. 

You didn’t though. Thank God (or Gods ?). You held a bit tighter Thor’s hand though, and wished really hard that the world would stop spinning. He misinterpreted your clinginess with excitement, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. Great, more support. You let your body slumped on his side, glad that sometimes, your boyfriend was so oblivious to things. If he knew you felt ill, he would have freaked out and you’d have been ridiculous in front of the little audience that was there…

A few people were waiting. You didn’t know most of them but you recognize Thor’s friends, Volstagg, Fandral, Hogun and…Sif. Damn, she was beautiful. Thor told you about her when you asked about previous girlfriends, apparently, they had a thing, but it never really worked out…She was staring at you coldly. Great. A new friend already…

-Welcome to my home, my love. This is Heimdall, the gate keeper. Good friend of mine. You already know those four, and that’s my mother, Frigga, and my father, Odin. Everyone, may I present to you Lady Y/N, my woman.

You couldn’t help but smile at how he called you. “My woman”. On Earth, most people would think it was a bit rude to call one’s girlfriend like that. But Asgard wasn’t Earth, and obviously, it was totally normal. But as soon as you realized you were actually in front of Thor’s parents, you started to get extremely nervous again. You knew it was a bad idea to come here…

Keep reading

The RFA reacting to the MC being 4'10


- this just makes you 1000x cuter

- because he’s like 5'10 or whatever, you compliment him more


- head pats. VERY OFTEN.

- whenever y'all get into small little fights, he goes all “okay but what are you gonna do tho? you’re literally a garden gnome.”

- but tbh he cherishes you so much more bc of it, your shortness just adds to your charm.

- your struggle to reach the top of the fridge for cookies is hilarious to him

- but he doesn’t really tease you TOO about it bc he keeps reiterating the fact that your height is a perk, not a flaw


- the height gap isn’t OUTRAGEOUSLY big so he doesn’t have much to say about it

- it actually makes him happy bc a lot of women consider him to be too short for a man so you’re perfect for him

- but bc you’re so short, you start to feel like the younger one in the relationship bc most people who see you guys together assume that he’s older

- which isn’t bad, it actually makes yoosung feel good about himself bc people always treat him like a child

- basically he’s just really comfortable having you around bc most people treat him like a kid and being w you feels like he’s w somebody on his level… or below it

- “you’re not short, you’re fun sized!”


- you’re so mature and handle yourself in such a good manner in the chats… that she almost didn’t take you seriously when she had to slightly look down at you the first time you guys meet

- it doesn’t bother her at all though, it just took time to adjust to bc in her head she pictured you as a grown woman but you’re literally bite sized

- when you guys go out on dates, people ask if you’re her little sister

- it’s never really a big deal tho bc it’s literally just height and at the end of the day jaehee fell for you for you

- she lends you her heels so that you can finally be as tall as her

- “seriously, you’re as petite as a child.”


- yo this man TOWERS over you

- the first time you guys met, he deadass could not see you in front of his desk and it took him a few seconds to look down and go “… so you’re her.”

- literally, anything he buys you, 9 times out of 10 you’re gonna have to get it tailored bc everything is too long and sometimes slightly big for you to wear

- when you fall asleep on the couch and he picks you up, he cradles you a little bit before placing you onto the bed

- dance lessons are kinda hella awkward but y'all make it work

- sometimes you get a bit insecure bc the women that throws themselves at him are all tall and sophisticated supermodels, they just seem to suit him more. while you’re so tiny and very awkward when trying to fit into his world

- but then he reassures you, that like everything else about you, Jumin loves your shortness and believes it makes you more perfect, more beautiful, more desirable than any other woman who throws themselves at him

- he noticed the height supplement pills in his cabinet when you moved in, took them, walked up to you and said “you won’t need these any more when you’re with me.”

- it’s NOT FUN when he loses you in a crowd of reporters

- and when he finds you again he practically glares at them and hugs you very tightly, “Next time, hold onto me so I’ll never lose you in a crowd again. You had me so worried. I’m never letting you out of my sight.”

- your height makes it that much easier for him to dominate you

- he’s very careful and delicate when he’s touching you bc you being so small just makes you seem that much more fragile in his eyes

- jokingly considers putting you on a leash to avoid losing you again, but would never actually do that

- whenever someone tries to make a short joke or roast you for your height in the messenger, it’s like the perfect way to summon Jumin bc he comes in all like “Her height is perfect. Haven’t you heard? Good things come in small packages. And you lot would be lucky if she’d be interested in any one of you.”


- short jokes are the fucking HIGHLIGHT of the RFA chats

- he knew what you looked like, but seeing you in person had him SHOOK bc even tho he knew adult human beings could be under 5 feet, it made it even more fascinating to see you in person

- but the truth is he thinks it’s so fucking adorable

- it also makes him want to protect you even more

- when you guys are together he always tosses you around the bed bc you’re just such a petite little thing


- “Can I tell you a secret…? You’re not a normal sized human being, but your height was actually my ideal size for a woman.” Not sure about men tho 👀👀👀

- he’s mad childish about it tho like when y'all are talking he bends his knees and gets down your level to talk to you when y'all are having a small disagreement


- he’s not really surprised at your height bc of how he’s stalked the hell out of you and all but he finds it quite amusing

- but boy is this man the devil incarnate when y'all are roasting each other bc your height is THE FIRST thing that pops up and he does not hold back

- he doesn’t say it out loud but he actually really likes the fact that you’re short as hell, it’s cute

- puts the cookies on the top shelf and hides the ladders bc he’s literally Satan

- but he also really loves you so when he holds you, he’s afraid he could crush you right in his arms

- “I haven’t been 4'10 since my mother died.”

- sometimes you repeat whatever he says about your height in a mocking tone bc CHOI BOYS ARE CHILDISH AS HELL

- but honestly, if anyone else were to tease you for your height he would deck them bc ONLY HE gets to roast your santa’s elf looking ass

V (ho boy here we go)

- cracks a short joke once a blue moon

- otherwise he NEVER makes fun of your height

- he honestly loves that you’re so short bc when he holds your head close to his chest, you can hear his heart beat and he’s all “that’s how I feel with you in my life.”

- always tilting your chin up to look at him like, “come on, let me look at those beautiful eyes. I never get to see them since you look down all the time.”

- you might only be 4'10, but to him, you’re so much bigger than that

- he’s literally so in love w you that the reason why he doesn’t mention your height isn’t bc he doesn’t notice, rather he notices it a lot. but he finds it so beautiful that the sun isn’t just a star– the sun is a 4'10 angel.

- one day he even actually asks you, “How do you do it?” you’re confused, and he says, “How do you find a way to store so much light in that small but perfect body of yours?” you’re blushing like crazy but he’s actually being serious.

- you respond with, “well, the sun shines for a reason. and my light just so happens to shine the brightest when I’m with you.”

- v is so honored by what you said bc no matter how many short jokes you get, you’re seriously the biggest thing in the world to him, to the point where he associates you with light sources like fire, stars, the moons glow– y'all get it

- this boys is literally convinced that you’re a human version of what light looks like

- y'all V thinks the light is 4'10

- V is just so perfect, why did Cheritz do my mans wrong I’m fucking crying give me my V route

[SCENARIO] GardenFairy!Wonwoo

Just because I toooOoOoOtally don’t have 104398234 other works in progress……… :) I’m sorry this ended up way longer than I’d intended for it to be AHH the idea stemmed from a small talk between Hoshit and I, what the hell happened??

((((Also heavily featuring Mingyu because Meanie is life))))


Originally posted by jihanmeanietrash

  • okay so lets just say
  • Wonwoo’s a garden fairy that’s only five inches tall
  • With wings
  • He can shapeshift himself into a human-sized entity, but that kind of drains his powers a lot, so he tries his best to stay fairy-sized for as long as necessary
  • This tiny winged boi has been guarding this patch of grass at the back of a small single-story terrace house for the longest time. 
  • His calling is to care for the gardens of the one that lives in the house
  • But the house has been left uninhabited for almost a dozen years
  • Wonwoo’s just left to wander about the fields
  • Yunno, just to make sure they stay healthy and green
  • He can’t really leave too, since it’s basically the sole purpose of his existence
  • Eventually gets too lazy and/or tired to tend to the weeds that are overwhelming the plot
  • Potential tenants enter the house with the landlord, but most of the time they leave without any promise to return
  • He even gets disdainful glares from the women when they glance out at the untended garden
  • But it’s not his fault…
  • It gets really lonely sometime and he gets unmotivated to carry out his job especially since there’s no one there to help him
  • Anyway

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hey cutie! I just saw the video you posted of Chris with his dog and I had a fic idea. Actually I wanted to do it by myself but I just love your writing so much so: could you please do a fic with chris working out in the garden and then his girlfriend comes back from the walk with Dodger and he just keeps jumping around Chris. His girlfriend just laughs and then Chris is chasing her around the garden and they fall down and make out. I love your writing!!! 💕💕

It was a perfect fall day in California so I decided to take Dodger for a run after work. Staying busy while Chris is out of town is always important. The run eventually turned into more of a walk and we got back a little over an hour later. Dodger didn’t want to be inside even after our walk so I decided to go outside to lay around for a bit before dinner. Dodger ran out into the yard ahead of me, dashing to the back of the yard where he started jumping around and barking.

“Dodger, what are you barking at?” I follow him around a corner and am about to tell him to stop when I hear the unmistakable sound of Chris laughing. I peek around the corning and find Dodger jumping in circles around Chris, who’s getting licked in the face while he tries to pet Dodger.

“What are you doing home?” Dodger runs over to me when he hears me and allows Chris to stand back up.

“You sound like you’re not happy to see me” he teases while crossing to reach me.

“Shut up, of course I’m happy to see you” he gives me a kiss that would’ve deepened if it weren’t for Dodger licking Chris’ leg.

“Dodger stop” he whines and tries to push Dodger away. Dodger just gets excited all over again and starts jumping up on Chris. I step back so I don’t get hit while I watch them wrestle in the grass. I can’t contain my laughter for very long and once Chris realizes he stops and looks at me, his face suddenly turning serious. “You think this is funny?” he quirks his eyebrow at me. I shrug and smirk my response expecting him to let it go and keep playing with Dodger. Instead he stands up, a mix of a smirk and a glare taking over his features.

“Chris?” I automatically prep myself to run, waiting for his move. He doesn’t say anything else, just smiles and takes off towards me. I squeal as I bolt in the opposite direction. I’m able to jump out of his grasp a few times before he catches me. Maybe catch is the wrong word, it’s more like I get tackled. Chris has his arms wrapped around my waist as we both fall to the ground. My laughter turns hysterical as he tickles up my sides to make me squirm underneath him.

“Stop, stop!” I do my best to push his hands away and wiggle out from under him but fail as his hold on me tightens.

“Are you done being sassy?” he taunts as his fingers slow their movement against my sides.

“I was never sassy!” I shout incredulously.

“Oh really then what would you call it?”

“The laughing? I’m sorry I couldn’t contain my happiness from seeing my two favorite beings together again” I deadpan and glare at him. A smile takes over his face and I can’t help but smile along with him.

“I missed you” he tells me, accompanied with a quick peck. One of his hands moves up to cup my cheek while the other rests under my lower back. I move my hands up his sides and bring them behind his neck and in his hair.

“I missed you too” I whisper before pulling him back down. His tongue slips easily into my mouth and brushes past mine. His hand moves from my cheek to my hair, holding me in place as he nips down my neck. When he gets to the top of my breasts he starts kissing back up my neck, teasing kisses at the corners of my mouth before finally pressing against my lips again. I bite at his bottom lip and he lets out a low growl. I move so my knees are hooked around his hips and use my legs to pull him closer. He starts moving his hands up under my shirt and teasing around the bottom of my bra. One of his hands moves to squeeze my breast and I let out a moan, but it quickly turns into a squeal when Dodger came out of nowhere and started licking both of our faces. Chris immediately pushed him away but Dodger keeps coming right back.

“Come on Dodger” Chris whines when Dodger comes back and starts pawing at his arm. Chris buries his face in my neck and tries to cover my head with his arms. I can’t help but laugh at Chris’ failing attempts to cover me, but the laughter just gets Dodger going even more.

“I have a plan” he whispers in my ear before he stands up. As soon as he’s up Dodger starts running in circles and doing play bows. Chris pretends to chase Dodger which causes him to run a big lap around the whole yard. As soon as Dodger takes off Chris grabs my hand and pulls me along with him towards the house. He closes the door quickly behind us and looks out to see Dodger has stopped in the middle of the yard to look around.

“He looks so sad and confused” I coo at Chris.

“He’ll be fine. Now, where were we?”

A/N: I hope you like this! Being told that you like my writing enough to ask me to write something instead of writing it yourself is like the best compliment so thank you! 

Permanent Tag List: @amistillmyself @megandrawsspace @giftofdreams @wildestdreamsrps @iamwarrenspeace @castellandiangelo

When Tiana finds herself house-sitting a mansion, she thinks her life is taking a turn for the better.
Little does she know the house is not what it seems… and neither are the two occupants who both wish to lay claim to her heart.

Contested ownership barely covers what’s happening at The Crossroads

The Crossroads is my NaNoReNo entry this year. It’s a light, romance-focused, supernatural visual novel.

I’m hoping to make it a bit lighter and fluffier than I normally do :D

It will be quite a linear visual novel, with really only the romance scenes and endings differing throughout- hopefully it will mean I can actually finish the project in the month!

            Warnings: Suggestive adult content (but it’s hardly anything!)

> Two love interests
> Personality choices all the way through
> Three possible endings for each love interest
(Love Ending, True Love Ending, and Bad Ending- Bad ending will vary only slightly for each)
> Just general fun and romantic lightness
> Unique Sprites, BGs, CGs, GUI

                               (Concept sketches only at the moment!)

Main Character

Tiana- Name Changeable
After losing her job, her apartment, and pretty much everything else, Tiana finds herself at a crossroads in life and has to decide where to go next.
Luckily, a job offer to house-sit a mansion in the middle of nowhere sounds like the perfect opportunity to take some time for herself.
(A very simple character customisation will hopefully be available- hair colour, skin colour, and eye colour)

Love Interests

The steward of The Crossroads. The man seems to bypass flirting and go straight into… well, full on suggestions! Quite the man to figure out…

Works as the handyman of the house. Sweet and caring, he suits the gentle gardens he spends most of his time in.


So, I really wanted to do NaNo again this year, though definitely wanted something I can actually finish within the month 

I will be soloing this as usual, so progress will be steady, if a bit slower.

I’ll probably be starting on GUI and backgrounds as they are my least favourite things, but I might slip into the sprites sooner because, well, that’s the fun stuff!

Hope you guys like my entry! I’m looking forward to progressing on it :D


Originally posted by nctinfo

· His cloak color is Boysenberry ( check our color reference page )
· His crest is on his left shoulder blade
· The cleanest prince
·  His room is the most organized room in the castle
·  It’s even more organized than the kitchen
· Actually he organized the kitchen himself
· Constantly checks on the servants
·  Because he’s afraid they will misplace something
· Or he’s afraid they won’t clean something well enough
· Looks scary and mean
· But is actually a softie
· Wouldn’t hurt anyone
· Except yuta
· Yuta asks for it tbh
· “If you touch my crown one more time-“ – Him
· “What? What are you gonna do? Hit me in the face with your invisible fist? You won’t hit me” – Yuta
· Actually ends up hitting yuta In the face with a book
· “This is why you shouldn’t underestimate me” – Him
· Likes to be alone
· Because being alone helps him think
· Is always overwhelmed with things
· Passionate about dancing and teaching the local civilians how to dance
· Has his own dance class
· Often feels misunderstood
· Confident when it comes to his looks
· Very nice and caring towards everyone
· Likes to take pictures of nature
· Which is why his room has the best view of the landscape
· Perfectionist
· Hates germs with a passions
· Washes his hands 8 to 10 times a day
· Bites his nails out of habit
· Likes to lay out in the grass and star up at the stars when everyone else Is asleep
· It gives him time to truly appreciate everything he has

· You were a servant
· You misplaced one spoon
· And never heard the end of it
· He watched you like a hawk
· Over time noticed how sweet
· Beautiful
· Charming-
· “Gah, stop it Tae..you’re a prince- you need a princess” - himself to himself
· Constantly biting his lips around you because
· Damn she’s so perfect
· Gives you the cold shoulder
· But only because he doesn’t want to have feelings for you
· So he tries to ignore his feelings
· You soon notice that he started to ignore you And you were actually quite upset
· You soon were able to get him alone in the royal garden
· “Why are you avoiding me? And for a minute I thought you actually cared about me” - you
· And at that moment
· Taeyongs walls fell down and he turned into a puddle
· Because he saw a single tear fall down your cheek
· “Wait don’t cry..” - him
· He cupped your cheeks, wiping the tears away
· “You do care about me after all..” - You
· Taeyong sighed playfully
· “I care about you But not THAT much” - him
· Which resulted in you laughing your ass off
· Because you knew that was complete bull
· You then started laughing and poking him
· “Yeah sure, I literally feel you stare at me” - You
· He tried to stop smiling but he couldn’t seem to
· “It’s not my fault you’re so precious” - Him

What’s Your Number (USA, 2011)

Predictions: Nothing to predict! We predict our delight at this Chris Evans romp that takes place in Boston!

Plot: One day, Anna Faris, a typical mess of a human being, reads in some magazine for ladies that ladies have an average of 10.5 sexual partners in their lifetimes. If a lady has more than 20, she will die alone. THAT’S RIGHT, LADIES!!!! As soon as that 20th penis crosses the finish line into your vagina, you will perish/no one will marry you/all your eggs will dry up, etc.

At the time that Anna Faris reads this extremely scientific finding, she has only slept with 19 people, phew; so the next guy will surely be Mr. Right! But then, when he isn’t, she embarks on a desperate quest to track down all her exes, figuring that the only available solution is to marry one of them. A completely reasonable course of action, of course. How would Anna Faris or any other ladies get through the day without the solid advice of lady magazines??

Unfortunately, Anna Faris is not as good a Google-stalker as us some other people, nobody we know, might be. So she enlists the help of her hot naked neighbor Chris Evans, a stereotypically commitment-phobic musician, whom she pays for his assistance in food and the service of helping him get rid of one-night stands. Chris Evans helps her track down a motley array of ex-boyfriends, including psycho puppeteer Andy Samberg, formerly-fat Chris Pratt, and Martin Freeman, with whom Anna Faris APPARENTLY PRETENDED TO BE BRITISH, AND IT’S SO FUNNY, YOU GUYS, SO FUNNY.

Eventually, of course, as we all knew would happen, Chris Evans and Anna Faris catch feelings. They are spending all their time together, living in each other’s homes, having a grand old time, so, you know, it’s not like anyone saw that coming. But Anna Faris, obsessed with lady magazines as she is, doesn’t think Chris Evans is marriage material, so she COULDN’T POSSIBLY BE WITH HIM, even though his everything is amazing and they, like, are clearly in love. Instead, she throws him over for the annoyingly successful ex who’s been her #1 obsession since the search began (and whose phone number Chris Evans pretended not to have; shame on you, Chris Evans, but then again, you did catch feelings…TSK).

Long story short, Anna Faris eventually sees the error of her ways, ditches Annoyingly Successful Ex at her sister’s wedding, and rushes to find Chris Evans at a different wedding, where his band is playing. She crashes the joint, they confess their love, and later they bang. Further good news for Anna Faris: apparently she didn’t actually sleep with Aziz Ansari, so she IS within the 20-or-fewer-penises limit! Lucky her, she will not be burned at the stake. 

In conclusion, lady magazines know where it’s at, and nary a lady could ever find love without adhering to their instructions.

Best Scene: OBVIOUSLY THE SCENE where they play strip Horse in the Garden. Fucking amazing. Nothing has ever been so perfect. Runner-up: Chris Evans’s face when he realizes that Anna Faris spent her entire relationship with Martin Freeman speaking in a fake British accent. 

Worst Scene: Joel McHale, why so gross???? Don’t shake his hand, Chris Evans!!!!

Best Line: “I broke it. If you were on Twitter, you would know that already.” – Chris Evans, when Anna Faris asks where his coffeepot is, because apparently she’s some kind of social-media-less alien, and he’s in the midst of making her a Facebook???? In 2011?!?!

Worst Line: If, by “worst line,” you mean “totally bizarre attitude towards sex in the modern age,” how about that conversation where Annoyingly Successful Ex weirdly seems to think that, because they lost their virginities to each other, Anna Faris literally won’t have slept with anyone else in the intervening 10-15 years???? Run, Anna Faris. He is a weird dude. Could be a Duggar in disguise. STEALTH DUGGARS!!!!!!!! (…Do we make too many Duggar jokes?)

Highlights of the Watching Experience: EVERYTHING!!!!!!!! First of all, let us issue a disclaimer that when anything takes place in Boston, we’re wildly biased. Second of all, Chris Evans is a gem from heaven, and by that we mean, Sudbury. Third of all, this is a very funny and delightful movie, guest-starring every comedian you’ve ever known, and the relationship between Chris Evans and Anna Faris is incredibly charming, and their love confession doesn’t seem super weird, because we’ve actually seen them getting to know each other pretty well, and EVERYTHING IS AMAZING…except for the premise, which is like a terrible Victorian throwback. Kthxbye.

How Many POC in the Film: A fair number of black people, though not in major roles – Anna Faris’s sister’s friend, Chris Pratt’s new fiancée, Anna Faris’s gay politician ex, that singer at the wedding… No Asians, though. (Really? No Asians in Cambridge?? No Asians in scrubs in line for a sandwich at the deli????) Clearly this entire film somehow takes place in the one block of Boston that doesn’t feature a hospital or major university. #perpetuating stereotypes of ourselves sorryyyy #home sweet home

Alternate Scenes: Well… Assuming we’ve gone ahead and accepted this premise, this movie could pretty much stay exactly as it is, minus that last twist where we find out that she’s only at 20 after all. We would love for Chris Evans to be #21 and for Anna Faris to not care if he were #4785947389654. (Except, you know, if he were #4785947389654, practically one would wonder how she ever got anything else done in her life besides having sex. Shocking that she was holding down a job, really, before Joel McHale fired her.)

Also, maybe a scene that explained how Anna Faris was supporting herself through what seems to be possibly months of unemployment.

Was the Poster Better or Worse than the Film: …Worse? Minus the tagline, the poster is the story of local businesswoman Anna Faris trying to pick up Chris Evans, a townie bartender. “What’s your number?” she slurs, sloshing her vodka cranberry. “It’s time for you to go,” he says, patiently. “Let me give you my number!” she insists, and scrawls down an illegible collection of digits. (Spoiler alert: he never calls her, because he cannot read her napkin. The end.) 

Score: 8.5 out of 10 lady-magazine-unsanctioned smooches. Tsk.

Ranking: 7, out of the 85 movies we’ve seen so far.

Golden Ghosts (20/20)

Summary: After months of planning and preparation, the five kings finally embark on their quest to the Nether to retrieve Geoff’s soul. At the same time, worlds are beginning to collide as Midas sets about his mission to return from the End.

A developing relationship promises peace between the kingdoms - but when old fears return to haunt them, it threatens to set the kings in conflict with each other once again.

Part 1  Part 19  AO3


Ray stepped through the portal into the Plains with practiced ease. His stomach no longer lurched at the transition - he moved as easily as if he was stepping into another room rather than travelling thousands of kilometres into an instant.

He emerged into the throne room of the Plains castle just as Gavin arrived through the Wild portal opposite him. Their eyes met as they appeared at the same time, and they shared a smile.

“Hey,” Ray called out, “I wondered when you were gonna come. You know what Geoff wants us here for?”

Keep reading

The Crumbling Kingdom Ch. 8

AN: I’m sorry in advance

Genre: Mafia!Jeonghan, Mafia!Soonyoung, Angst, Romance, Violence

Word Count: 6,170

CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8 CH 9

Originally posted by gyuhan-17

You hated perfect things. You hated even numbers, clear skies, and even the perfect symmetry of snow flakes. Maybe you didn’t hate perfect things themselves, snow was pretty, but you hated the idea of perfection itself. It reminded you of how the idea of “no one is perfect” was a lie. You always ended up destroying perfection when you touched it. Perfection reminded you of how utterly flawed you were.

The sky was a perfect blue today, and the garden you were strolling through was disgustingly perfect. You tightened your grip on the picnic basket, for any normal person, this would be a beautiful date, but of course you had to make it some complicated mess. But were you the actual reason this whole marriage issue?

You stared at your boyfriend’s hand that held yours, leading you down the flowery path. Soonyoung had a goofy smile painted on his face, he was always got so excited for dates like this–perfect dates. He liked to plan them out and make every aspect of outings beautiful. Unlike you, he could admire perfection. How he loved a flawed being like you, you had no idea.

Keep reading

Three Little Words, a Ryan Haywood x Reader Fic

Summary: Despite having been together for over 2 years, Ryan has never uttered the words “I Love You” to you. But when he does, he does it with fervor.
W/C: 1,568
Notes: WOW look at that a prompt from January finally getting filled…in April. I’m so sorry wow. Also I married this prompt with the one where the reader is Geoff’s little sister, sorry they didn’t each get their own fic.

“So, how are things going with Ryan? Any signs of the big question yet?”

Keep reading

iwanthoosier  asked:

Alia... Look, I could preface this with some excuse or justification, but honestly??? what's the point? Can ur girl get some romantic H Co. headcanons please? I don't mind if they're sfw or nsfw, or y'know, both? ;)

jsyk I wrote these while I was at the pizza joint, alone and it was raining and I was kinda feel lonely lmao so I’m sorry for the sappiness.

  • Runner
  • actual nerd when it comes to courting you.
  • watches 80s romcom to get all of his ideas of how to woo his future partner.
  • will definitely be a good, caring boyfriend. funny too and always making you laugh with his puns.
  • will give you assorted nicknames just to annoy you but you can’t help but smile when he smiles at you and calls you baby.
  • likes kissing you as if he’s teasing you; just a slow peck once, twice; before he pulls back slowly, watching your pretty face with your eyes closed until you whine low in your throat.
  • then he will cup your face all real gentle and murmuring your name real slow before he kisses you until you’re breathless and gripping his shoulders to pull him closer bc his tongue is doing wickedly sinful thing that makes you want him to kiss you between your legs.
  • the type of boyfriend that will throw pebbles on your window and serenade you with his guitar.
  • will drop everything if you tell him that you need him now. will definitely run to get to you bc you’re the most important person in his life.

  • Sidney
  • actual gentleman. He will agree with whatever you’re saying 99% of the time even when you’re being ridiculous. He doesn’t like confrontation. And the rare time you fight with him it’s usually over something really serious.
  • (like the fact that he wants to marry you but you feel like you’re not ready yet, and he gets offended bc he thinks you’re still searching for someone better even though that’s not true. He’s already so perfect and that’s what scare you the most bc you think you’re not perfect for him which is wrong. You both are meant for each other)
  • but you know he will apologize first, no matter whose fault it is bc he doesn’t like going to bed with angry heart and waking up feeling numb.
  • and you know he will kiss you real soft when you tell him the real reason why you’re afraid of marrying him. He will show you how much he thinks you’re so perfect for him, kissing your body as if he is worshiping you; making you gasp out his name in breathy moan because it feels good and he’s gentle when he’s handling your body.
  • will definitely bring you flowers and  not just the one he picks from someone else’s garden but actual bouquets.
  • and if you’re allergic to flowers, he will bring you sweets bc “sweets for my sweet.”
  • he’s corny like that.

  • Chuckler
  • the sweetest boyfriend in the whole wide world.
  • your personal cheerleader when you’re feeling shitty. Gives pep talk like a pro and combine with his sunshiny smile, you will feel like you can push yourself a lil bit more as long as he’s there right beside you, holding your hand.
  • will do anything for you without complaining bc he wants to make you happy.
  • the kind of boyfriend that will snap your photos and upload them on his instagram with cheesy captions like “so blessed to have this person in my life.”
  • your name in his phone is 5 heart eyes emojis.
  • will bring you food instead of flowers bc “you can’t get full from flowers so I brought you chicken nuggets and fries instead.”
  • gives the best cuddle ever when you can’t fall asleep. Kissing you so sweetly until you feel like you’re drowning.
  • he is so hot all over that you get restless when he’s slow sliding his leg between your thighs; grinning down at you when you whimper his name.
  • let’s be real here, he loves giving head what with that big damn mouth he has.
  • put your pleasure first before his.
  • will still respect you even when you’re sweaty and looking so debauched; his eyes bright when he looks at you like you’re his sun.

  • Leckie
  • the most romantic guy ever.
  • or so he claims.
  • writes poetry for you just bc he can plus he really loves to watch your face turns a shade redder from embarrassment.
  • actually loves you with all of his heart but doesn’t wanna show it much bc he is afraid you will hurt him.
  • oh god he will be the kind of boyfriend that loves drama and will draw it out until you two are arguing and shouting at each other’s faces.
  • until you push him against the wall and call him an asshole and kiss him hard bc “goddamnit i only love you, you fucking poetry nerd!”
  • lots of make up sex that starts as angry sex but in the end it will be soft bc he is a very attentive guy, even when he’s gripping your arms tightly or pulling your hair hard; he will make sure you will come before him.
  • loves dirty talking and will always make some kind of sexual innuendos when you two are in public.
  • can be a supporting boyfriend even when he complains a lot but he loves you and he is slowly trusting that you love him back too.

  • Hoosier
  • the kind of boyfriend that makes you crazy and sometimes not in a good way.
  • rarely tells you that he loves you.
  • sometimes you wonder if you’re truly in a relationship with him or maybe you’re hallucinating bc he doesn’t like to talk about feelings.
  • but he will show it to you instead.
  • he will be the kind of boyfriend that will stay even when you push him away.
  • he will be the kind of boyfriend that will let you slap him or punch him when you’re angry and he will never retaliate back.
  • he will fuckin stay even when you lock him outside of your door.
  • he will wait outside, humming an old song because he knows you’re there at the other side of the door.
  • he will whisper to you that he will always be here for you and he ain’t going nowhere.
  • “because you’re too precious for me, because you’re the most important person in my life.”
  • he doesn’t say i love you to you. but those words are enough of confirmation that he is indeed yours as much as you’re his.
  • and you know he will show it to you with his body.
  • how much he always wants you, even on days when you feel like you’re not beautiful.
  • kissing you, caressing you, murmuring to you how beautiful you look writhing underneath him, how you fit him so snugly, and when he thrust, his name will spill out from your mouth like a prayer.
  • and though he never tell you that he loves you, in that intimate moment, you swear you can feel the love pouring out from his very pores into your very skin, traveling through your bloodstreams, making you feel alive.

anonymous asked:

Dialogue 8 matsuiwa !!

“Come here.”


“Just come here.”

“No, you’re gonna hit me.”

In all his life, Matsukawa has never done anything wrong. Never. Well… Except maybe a few times back in high school. And a few in middle school. And more than that in university-

But that was back in education! He’s a changed man! He’s 45 years old and finally gotten his life together. He got a full time job last week - The one he worked his whole life towards! - with a comfortable paycheck, moved in with his partner about a month ago, and today… Today is the biggest day of his life so far.

With the money saved up from his part time jobs, a box in his back pocket burns against his leg with a soothing warmth that feels light as air. It’s heavy, but he’s so happy. He stops at Hanamaki and Oikawa’s since it’s only a few doors away and they give him all the encouragement he needs, complementing his choice of what’s in the box, and forcing him to accept ‘sprucing up’.

With his hair as naturally curly as ever, it looks a hell of a lot different when it’s been intentionally permed. Hanamaki passes him a suit with a thumbs up and grin. Where he managed to get Matsukawa’s measurements, the man has to wonder. Oikawa douses him with a couple of spritz of cologne, combining about three or four brands with the explanation that they balance each other out.

Shoved out the house with a bunch of flowers fresh from Hanamaki and Oikawa’s garden, Matsukawa takes a deep breath and confidently walks up to his own front door just a couple of minutes away. If he looked down the street, he’d probably still see Hanamaki and Oikawa eagerly watching him from behind the hedge in their front garden.

Keep reading


For my birthday last week my parents gave me my own baby herb garden, and honestly what’s better than fresh herbs in the kitchen? And so last night I decided to use them to make a delicious garlic, herb and butter chicken which turned out perfectly. This was my first time roasting a whole chicken in my new place, (actually my first time ever) and I was so happy with how juicy it turned out. Even my boyfriend commented on how he doesn’t normally like chicken because it’s usually dry but he loved this meal. I paired it with a simple pasta salad, perfect for these warm summer nights.

The best thing about a whole chicken is that you can get so many meals out of it. The leftovers will last a while and the bones can be used to make a delicious stock for homemade soup. Especially when you’re trying to be thrifty when it comes to how much you’re spending on food, you don’t have to always sacrifice taste and a chicken is a great way to get more bang for your buck.

Now, it’s time for me to get some leftovers!

Ten Things I Have Learned (by Milton Glaser)
  1. You can only work for people that you like. This is a curious rule and it took me a long time to learn because in fact at the beginning of my practice I felt the opposite. Professionalism required that you didn’t particularly like the people that you worked for or at least maintained an arms length relationship to them, which meant that I never had lunch with a client or saw them socially. Then some years ago I realised that the opposite was true. I discovered that all the work I had done that was meaningful and significant came out of an affectionate relationship with a client. And I am not talking about professionalism; I am talking about affection. I am talking about a client and you sharing some common ground. That in fact your view of life is someway congruent with the client, otherwise it is a bitter and hopeless struggle.

  2. If you have a choice never have a job. One night I was sitting in my car outside Columbia University where my wife Shirley was studying Anthropology. While I was waiting I was listening to the radio and heard an interviewer ask “Now that you have reached 75 have you any advice for our audience about how to prepare for your old age?” An irritated voice said “Why is everyone asking me about old age these days?” I recognised the voice as John Cage. I am sure that many of you know who he was—the composer and philosopher who influenced people like Jasper Johns and Merce Cunningham as well as the music world in general. I knew him slightly and admired his contribution to our times. “You know, I do know how to prepare for old age” he said. “Never have a job, because if you have a job someday someone will take it away from you and then you will be unprepared for your old age. For me, it has always been the same every since the age of 12. I wake up in the morning and I try to figure out how am I going to put bread on the table today? It is the same at 75, I wake up every morning and I think how am I going to put bread on the table today? I am exceedingly well prepared for my old age” he said.

  3. Some people are toxic, avoid them. This is a subtext of number one. There was in the sixties a man named Fritz Perls who was a gestalt therapist. Gestalt therapy derives from art history, it proposes you must understand the ‘whole’ before you can understand the details. What you have to look at is the entire culture, the entire family and community and so on. Perls proposed that in all relationships people could be either toxic or nourishing towards one another. It is not necessarily true that the same person will be toxic or nourishing in every relationship, but the combination of any two people in a relationship produces toxic or nourishing consequences. And the important thing that I can tell you is that there is a test to determine whether someone is toxic or nourishing in your relationship with them. Here is the test: you have spent some time with this person, either you have a drink or go for dinner or you go to a ball game. It doesn’t matter very much but at the end of that time you observe whether you are more energised or less energised. Whether you are tired or whether you are exhilarated. If you are more tired then you have been poisoned. If you have more energy you have been nourished. The test is almost infallible and I suggest that you use it for the rest of your life.

  4. Professionalism is not enough or the good is the enemy of the great. Early in my career I wanted to be professional, that was my complete aspiration in my early life because professionals seemed to know everything —not to mention they got paid for it. Later I discovered after working for a while that professionalism itself was a limitation. After all, what professionalism means in most cases is diminishing risks. So if you want to get your car fixed you go to a mechanic who knows how to deal with transmission problems in the same way each time. I suppose if you needed brain surgery you wouldn’t want the doctor to fool around and invent a new way of connecting your nerve endings. Please do it in the way that has worked in the past.

    Unfortunately in our field, in the so–called creative—I hate that word because it is misused so often. I also hate the fact that it is used as a noun. Can you imagine calling someone a creative? Anyhow, when you are doing something in a recurring way to diminish risk or doing it in the same way as you have done it before, it is clear why professionalism is not enough. After all, what is required in our field, more than anything else, is the continuous transgression. Professionalism does not allow for that because transgression has to encompass the possibility of failure and if you are professional your instinct is not to fail, it is to repeat success. So professionalism as a lifetime aspiration is a limited goal.

  5. Less is not necessarily more. Being a child of modernism I have heard this mantra all my life. Less is more. One morning upon awakening I realised that it was total nonsense, it is an absurd proposition and also fairly meaningless. But it sounds great because it contains within it a paradox that is resistant to understanding. But it simply does not obtain when you think about the visual of the history of the world. If you look at a Persian rug, you cannot say that less is more because you realise that every part of that rug, every change of colour, every shift in form is absolutely essential for its aesthetic success. You cannot prove to me that a solid blue rug is in any way superior. That also goes for the work of Gaudi, Persian miniatures, art nouveau and everything else. However, I have an alternative to the proposition that I believe is more appropriate. “Just enough is more.”

  6. Style is not to be trusted. I think this idea first occurred to me when I was looking at a marvellous etching of a bull by Picasso. It was an illustration for a story by Balzac called “The Hidden Masterpiece”. I am sure that you all know it. It is a bull that is expressed in 12 different styles going from very naturalistic version of a bull to an absolutely reductive single line abstraction and everything else along the way. What is clear just from looking at this single print is that style is irrelevant. In every one of these cases, from extreme abstraction to acute naturalism they are extraordinary regardless of the style. It’s absurd to be loyal to a style. It does not deserve your loyalty. I must say that for old design professionals it is a problem because the field is driven by economic consideration more than anything else. Style change is usually linked to economic factors, as all of you know who have read Marx. Also fatigue occurs when people see too much of the same thing too often. So every ten years or so there is a stylistic shift and things are made to look different.

    Typefaces go in and out of style and the visual system shifts a little bit. If you are around for a long time as a designer, you have an essential problem of what to do. I mean, after all, you have developed a vocabulary, a form that is your own. It is one of the ways that you distinguish yourself from your peers, and establish your identity in the field. How you maintain your own belief system and preferences becomes a real balancing act. The question of whether you pursue change or whether you maintain your own distinct form becomes difficult. We have all seen the work of illustrious practitioners that suddenly look old–fashioned or, more precisely, belonging to another moment in time. And there are sad stories such as the one about Cassandre, arguably the greatest graphic designer of the twentieth century, who couldn’t make a living at the end of his life and committed suicide.

    But the point is that anybody who is in this for the long haul has to decide how to respond to change in the zeitgeist. What is it that people now expect that they formerly didn’t want? And how to respond to that desire in a way that doesn’t change your sense of integrity and purpose.

  7. How you live changes your brain. The brain is the most responsive organ of the body. Actually it is the organ that is most susceptible to change and regeneration of all the organs in the body. I have a friend named Gerald Edelman who was a great scholar of brain studies and he says that the analogy of the brain to a computer is pathetic. The brain is actually more like an overgrown garden that is constantly growing and throwing off seeds, regenerating and so on. And he believes that the brain is susceptible, in a way that we are not fully conscious of, to almost every experience of our life and every encounter we have. I was fascinated by a story in a newspaper a few years ago about the search for perfect pitch. A group of scientists decided that they were going to find out why certain people have perfect pitch. You know certain people hear a note precisely and are able to replicate it at exactly the right pitch. Some people have relevant pitch; perfect pitch is rare even among musicians. The scientists discovered—I don’t know how—that among people with perfect pitch the brain was different. Certain lobes of the brain had undergone some change or deformation that was always present with those who had perfect pitch. This was interesting enough in itself. But then they discovered something even more fascinating. If you took a bunch of kids and taught them to play the violin at the age of 4 or 5 after a couple of years some of them developed perfect pitch, and in all of those cases their brain structure had changed. Well what could that mean for the rest of us? We tend to believe that the mind affects the body and the body affects the mind, although we do not generally believe that everything we do affects the brain. I am convinced that if someone was to yell at me from across the street my brain could be affected and my life might changed. That is why your mother always said, “Don’t hang out with those bad kids.” Mama was right. Thought changes our life and our behaviour. I also believe that drawing works in the same way. I am a great advocate of drawing, not in order to become an illustrator, but because I believe drawing changes the brain in the same way as the search to create the right note changes the brain of a violinist. Drawing also makes you attentive. It makes you pay attention to what you are looking at, which is not so easy.

  8. Doubt is better than certainty. Everyone always talks about confidence in believing what you do. I remember once going to a class in yoga where the teacher said that, spirituality speaking, if you believed that you had achieved enlightenment you have merely arrived at your limitation. I think that is also true in a practical sense.

    Deeply held beliefs of any kind prevent you from being open to experience, which is why I find all firmly held ideological positions questionable. It makes me nervous when someone believes too deeply or too much. I think that being sceptical and questioning all deeply held beliefs is essential. Of course we must know the difference between scepticism and cynicism because cynicism is as much a restriction of one’s openness to the world as passionate belief is. They are sort of twins. And then in a very real way, solving any problem is more important than being right.

    There is a significant sense of self–righteousness in both the art and design world. Perhaps it begins at school. Art school often begins with the Ayn Rand model of the single personality resisting the ideas of the surrounding culture. The theory of the avant garde is that as an individual you can transform the world, which is true up to a point. One of the signs of a damaged ego is absolute certainty.

    Schools encourage the idea of not compromising and defending your work at all costs. Well, the issue at work is usually all about the nature of compromise. You just have to know what to compromise. Blind pursuit of your own ends which excludes the possibility that others may be right does not allow for the fact that in design we are always dealing with a triad—the client, the audience and you.

    Ideally, making everyone win through acts of accommodation is desirable. But self–righteousness is often the enemy. Self–righteousness and narcissism generally come out of some sort of childhood trauma, which we do not have to go into. It is a consistently difficult thing in human affairs. Some years ago I read a most remarkable thing about love, that also applies to the nature of co–existing with others. It was a quotation from Iris Murdoch in her obituary. It read “Love is the extremely difficult realisation that something other than oneself is real.” Isn’t that fantastic! The best insight on the subject of love that one can imagine.

  9. On aging. Last year someone gave me a charming book by Roger Rosenblatt called “Ageing Gracefully” I got it on my birthday. I did not appreciate the title at the time but it contains a series of rules for ageing gracefully. The first rule is the best. Rule number one is that “it doesn’t matter.” “It doesn’t matter what you think. Follow this rule and it will add decades to your life. It does not matter if you are late or early, if you are here or there, if you said it or didn’t say it, if you are clever or if you were stupid. If you were having a bad hair day or a no hair day or if your boss looks at you cockeyed or your boyfriend or girlfriend looks at you cockeyed, if you are cockeyed. If you don’t get that promotion or prize or house or if you do—it doesn’t matter.” Wisdom at last.

    Then I heard a marvellous joke that seemed related to rule number 10. A butcher was opening his market one morning and as he did a rabbit popped his head through the door. The butcher was surprised when the rabbit inquired “Got any cabbage?” The butcher said “This is a meat market—we sell meat, not vegetables.” The rabbit hopped off. The next day the butcher is opening the shop and sure enough the rabbit pops his head round and says “You got any cabbage?” The butcher now irritated says “Listen you little rodent I told you yesterday we sell meat, we do not sell vegetables and the next time you come here I am going to grab you by the throat and nail those floppy ears to the floor.” The rabbit disappeared hastily and nothing happened for a week. Then one morning the rabbit popped his head around the corner and said “Got any nails?” The butcher said “No.” The rabbit said “Ok. Got any cabbage?”

  10. Tell the truth. The rabbit joke is relevant because it occurred to me that looking for a cabbage in a butcher’s shop might be like looking for ethics in the design field. It may not be the most obvious place to find either. It’s interesting to observe that in the new AIGA’s code of ethics there is a significant amount of useful information about appropriate behaviour towards clients and other designers, but not a word about a designer’s relationship to the public.

    We expect a butcher to sell us eatable meat and that he doesn’t misrepresent his wares. I remember reading that during the Stalin years in Russia that everything labelled veal was actually chicken. I can’t imagine what everything labelled chicken was.

    We can accept certain kinds of misrepresentation, such as fudging about the amount of fat in his hamburger but once a butcher knowingly sells us spoiled meat we go elsewhere. As a designer, do we have less responsibility to our public than a butcher?

    Everyone interested in licensing our field might note that the reason licensing has been invented is to protect the public not designers or clients. ‘Do no harm’ is an admonition to doctors concerning their relationship to their patients, not to their fellow practitioners or the drug companies. If we were licensed, telling the truth might become more central to what we do.

Please take a moment to imagine Enjolras and Marius as best men at the Courferre wedding  

  • Enjolras is scandalized when Courf tells him first because what, he can totally handle this on his own, he can do that, he doesn’t need help but he agrees because Courf says it’s really important to him and Enjolras promises to be ‘nice’ because it’s not about him, it’s about his friends and yeah, also he is going to be the BEST BEST MAN OF ALL TIME, JUST YOU WAIT
  • and Marius is just …. sooooo happy and moved when Courf tells him
  •  then he’s mortified
  • so the first time Enjolras and Marius meet to talk about the whole thing Enjolras pulls it off to look extremely terrifying sitting on the floor in the living room between stacks of wedding catalogues
  • there are a lot of long silences, glares from Enjolras and polite (nervous) throat-clearing from Marius who knows surprisingly much about flowers (gardening with Mabeauf), cakes (baking with Cosette) and music (living with Courf)
  • and Enjolras begrudgingly admits to Courf then that alright, Pontmercy might possibly, actually be quite useful
  • alright maybe more than useful because he had no idea there even was a different between powder blue and light blue
  • so eventually, after more silences and more throat clearing, they form this really strange yet effective sort of co-operating where Marius makes the creative choices and Enjolras does all the phone calling and talking to people to get them exactly what they want
  • and in the end the wedding is just positively perfect
  • and they’re supposed to make their best man speeches but they’re both like really emotional and Enjolras who was supposed to go first but has a really hard time keeping it together right then is like, ‘No, no, you go first’
  • and Marius is like, ‘What no, you should go first’ because he wants to be confident and witty and make a great speech and he really is about to cry okay
  • so they go on like ‘No, without you none of this would have never worked so well’, ‘No, really, you did all the actual work’, ‘but you spend ages working out that colour scheme’, ‘but you’ve been so great arranging the seating plan’ and continue saying what an amazing best man the other one is while getting louder and more chocked with every sentence
  • (everyone starts to get really amused/confused)
  • and in the end Marius is like, ‘but you’ve known them for longer, you’re really more important’ and Enjolras just cuts him off like, ‘Shut the fuck up Pontmercy, you’re an amazing, DEVOTED, LOYAL FRIEND AND I’M SO FUCKING GLAD MY BEST FRIEND HAS A FRIEND LIKE YOU’
  • and Marius just stares at him for a moment until he says, ‘me too’
  • and Enjolras is like, ‘good’ while he’s not so discretely sniffling and Marius is not much better and then Courf is like, ‘boys’ and hugs them both and in the end all three of them are crying and Ferre is crying because Courf is so happy and he’s so happy
  • and in the end Chetta has to read the speeches because she’s the only one who can actually keep it together for five minutes

maplelantern  asked:

Oh dear, my geography is awful, I actually just had to googlemap where Liverpool actually was.... A kylux day out sounds like a fabulous idea! Probably food and flailing about foxes? (holy shit we used to have one living at the end of the garden, it was such a scruffy thing.... like Hux had been dragged backwards through a puddle.... whilst yelling)

North-West England! The scruffy part of the country 😂 Oh my god, yes! Kylux and foxes are all I need to be happy so that sounds like a perfect day!!!! 😘 (oh my, that poor little fox! Imagine Kylo’s frustration when he’s spent all day cleaning their apartment and fox hux comes home covered in mud and just waltzes right in with his filthy paws!!!)

anonymous asked:

12 Rusame please! Btw your writing is amazing!

Thank you anon~!  :)

Prompt Fill- “I know they say that violence isn’t the answer, but I’d really like to test that theory out right now.”

America’s got his fist clenched and he’s staring at the back of the man who’s just spoken to him. He’s lucky he has England next to him to put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from striding forward and slugging the man. He still wants to, but lets his fist fizzle out and stretches out his long fingers. His hand still shakes in anger.

“Calm down,” England chastises him, eyeing him carefully. “You’ll make a scene.”

“I know.” America turns away sharply. He stalks over to the windows by the garden and stands next to the curtains. It’s hot even with the sun slipping under the covers of the horizon. The air smells like jasmine and it’s almost enough to calm him down.

“Now,” England says as he joins him by the window, and hands him a glass of wine he’s swiped away from one of the numerous waiters flittering through the crowd, “What the hell was that?”

America mutters into the glass of Malbec. It makes his throat feel tight and he fidgets under England’s green gaze. He pulls at the suit cuffs. “He insulted someone.”

“Someone,” England says dryly. He looks over the crowd of the well-dressed women and men. Surprisingly, it’s not a diplomatic party. Rather, it’s a wedding of a daughter of someone they both know and have worked with in the past. America’s waiting for his plus one still, whose plane was delayed due to thunderstorms. England’s going stag. He has a plane to catch in four hours anyway, as he uses as his excuse whenever anyone asks.

America looks out at the dark gardens. Topiaries are strung with globes of light and they line a white gravel path through colorful flowers and elegantly trimmed shrubs. The phone in his pocket feels hot against his leg and he itches to check and see if his plus one has landed.

“Someone.” America confirms.

“Someone Russian?” England asks.

America frowns and folds his arm, looking dourly into the dark wine. “Maybe.”

“Truly, how did you end up talking politics with these people? I’m sure Yvette even wrote not to do that as rule number one on the invitation.” England huffs in exasperated laughter. He looks away from the party and back at America. He frowns at the dark look in the other’s eyes.

“I didn’t” America says. When England pushes him slightly with his elbow, America sighs. “We were talking about travel plans.”

“Ah,” England takes another sip. “Going off to see Ivan soon then?”

“Nope.” Alfred puts the empty glass on the windowsill. “Bermuda, actually.”

“Oh?” He furrows his brows together in thought. “Then what did they say to make you so angry? I thought you were about to start a row.”

America taps his fingers against his folded arm. There’s a quartet playing although it looks like there’s DJ getting ready to start. It might liven up the party a bit. “He insulted Ivan.” America mutters.

“Well, it isn’t exactly uncommon to hear anti-Russian sentiments around here.” A lot of the people they know in attendance tonight were active in the Cold War. Sometimes sentiments died hard. “Shouldn’t exactly rile you up like that.”

America shakes his head. “No, I didn’t say Russia. I said Ivan.”

England glances up at the American in confusion. “What?”

“He insulted Ivan as a person.” America’s lips curl down in anger and he tenses his jaw before muttering, “Lloyd’s a finance guy. Apparently they’ve met twice before.” Cobalt eyes drift down to the floor. “Never really liked him before. Now I really don’t.”

England squints at the offending man’s back. He’s talking loudly to someone at a table, explaining something while using his fork, knife and water glass as props. “Wasn’t he nominated for a Nobel Prize once?”

“What, they can’t be assholes?” Alfred says and leans against the wall. He puts his hands in his pant’s pocket and chuckles. “Good to know.” A waiter comes by during their lull in conversation and Alfred takes another glass of wine. England abstains. The taller man is still staring out at the crowd, eyes dark and intense. Its like looking into a storm and searching for the spear point of soft blue daylight.

“Stop trying to imagine how you’d murder him.” England says.

“What?” America laughs and turns to England. “Why would you think I’m doing that?”

“Old habits?” England says and smiles at America’s exasperated glance. “Alright. Maybe not. How about replaying the conversation for the perfect comeuppance?” 

“Ding, ding! We have a winner,” Alfred chuckles. 

“So how does your version go?” England turns and looks out at the garden now. He leans on the windowsill and takes a deep breath of the jasmine laced air. 

“Well after he tells me that he surprised how well I seem to like Ivan, do not give me that look Arthur– and no I didn’t say we were together–anyway, he says how ‘surprised he is that the man doesn’t realize how everyone just tolerates him. No one actually likes him’.” America pauses and looks at England with a sheepish glance. “Sorry I gave him your accent. It’s kind of automatic when I mock people.”

“I’m going to ignore that, for now.”

“Thanks. So then he goes on with how much of an ‘obstinate moron’ he is and I think he way have said something about how he was obviously built for brute force and not brains? I’m not sure on that last one. I kind of was focusing on not decking him. Which of course, in my head, I’d go ‘I know they say that violence isn’t the answer, but I’d really like to test that theory out right now.’ and if he didn’t back down I’d deck him.”

“Isn’t he in his 80s?” England asks and pulls off a white flower from the climbing vine near the window. 

America snorts. “He’s younger than me.”


“If ‘ya got frail bones you shouldn’t throw around insults.”

England hums. He looks at the garden path and shakes his head. “I think you should go take a walk to cool off.”

America frowns and finishes off the second glass of Malbec. “I’m not going to actually deck him.”

“Alfred,” England says and looks at him pointedly. There’s a moment of silence between him before America puts down the glass with a sharp rapt and stalks out of the ballroom, stowing his hands in his pocket. England waits for him to leave the room and pass through the doors. He watches his form curve around the path and salutes him when Alfred passes by the window with a scowl.

“Have a good night,” England says. America looks confused until the crunch of gravel further down the path can be heard and he looks to see Russia walking through the dimly lit garden, distress at being late clear on his face. 

America’s face lights up and he walks over to Russia. They should be far enough away that England can’t hear him, but the American is naturally loud.
“I thought you weren’t going to make it at this point.”

Russia says something that makes America laugh and he pulls at the other’s arm. They’re walking away from the party. Apparently Russia questions this because England can hear America faintly say. “Forget the party, it’s been really fucking dull anyway. The stars are really bright tonight, anyway.” He can hear America laugh once again and the two turn around on the gravel path and slip out of sight between the topiaries. 

England turns and pockets the flower he’s been bruising under his thumb and forefinger. He goes back to the party, knowing he only has an hour more before he has to leave to catch his plane so he can go home and maybe look at the stars with someone. 

They really are bright tonight. 

I used a poor choice of words by saying white people and generalizing because I know not all “white people” do this but Because when my mom came here she was told NOT to dress like this because ppl would think she’s “chola”, implying that it’s a bad thing, because people at school would say my dad is a gardener when he actually worked at a five star restaurant, because if I speak Spanish it doesn’t mean I’m from Mexico, because people love our culture but hate our people, because growing up girls would hate on our skin color yet go to tanning salon like it’s their business, having pride in your culture and people isn’t racist. America isn’t perfect but it has given me and my family so many opportunities that I’m grateful for always. #HispanicGirlsUnited

anonymous asked:

"I am afraid. Terrified, actually."

Music-verse. See earlier pieces: 


Music Part 2 

Breakfast to go 


In a public place (M)

Regina wakes in the morning to the whistle of a boiling kettle, and the quiet clink of pottery.

A smile forms on her lips as she stretches out her bare limbs, a bend of her arm reminding her of twining those limbs around Robin’s neck last night, the clench of her fingers recalling the way they had twisted into his hair, a deep breath echoing their gasps, the shift of her legs, the fullness and friction, warmth and bliss of him inside her.

She revels for a moment, and then pushes back the last edges of the sheets and searches out her panties on the carpet.

She snatches Robin’s T-shirt on her way out of the room, tugging it over her head with a fond smile for the deep green color she used to tease him for wearing constantly when they were children.

“Still dressing like a forest, then?” she asks as she enters her flat’s open kitchen and living room.

He turns to smile softly at her, an expression in his eyes and on his lips that melts her heart in a way it hasn’t been melted for nearly a decade. But it’s new, as well—there’s a fire that speaks of an adult who is even more certain of what he feels them to be.

He raises an eyebrow at her. “And if I were to open that closet, your clothes wouldn’t be almost entirely black?”

Her eyes spark at the challenge. “I am a musician.”

She glances at the counter and frowns, then, noticing the minute he picks up on it, because his lips fall to mirror hers.

“What is it?” he asks.

She fights the dampness pooling in her eyes, shaking her head gently. “You’re making tea?”

“With whole milk and one scoop of brown sugar,” he confirms confidently, faltering a second later, “Why, do you prefer coffee now? I could-“

She shakes her head quickly, a hundred beautiful memories blurring into the present, “it’s perfect.”

His brow furrows in confusion. “Then, what—“

Regina sighs, walking to him and stepping into his waiting arms, hers tight around his waist.

“Aren’t you afraid that we’re going to screw this up? It’s been so long, and we were so young…”

He presses a kiss to the top of her head, his fingers threading through her hair.

“I was afraid,” he confesses, “Terrified, actually. You’re this—loving, talented, intelligent, gorgeous violin player, and I’m just a humble gardener who’s been in love with you since we were fifteen.”

She pulls back to smile at him, more radiant even than he remembered in his dreams. “And now?”

He swoops her up into his arms suddenly, spinning them around once, drawing a surprised shriek and a fondly scolding Robin from her lips.

He sets her back on her feet, her giddy, dizzy stumble nearly pulling them both to the ground before he rights them.

“And now, I’m making you tea in your kitchen, and your hair’s all tousled from spending the night in bed with me,” he reaches to touch it again, then trails his hand down to tug at the sleeve of her borrowed T-shirt, “and you stole my shirt and to be honest, I can’t remember what I was so afraid of.” He cradles her face, his callused finger pads against her soft skin.

Regina blinks once, twice, and when she owns her eyes again, he’s even closer, his mouth maybe six inches from her own.

“Fifteen, hm?” she asks, a grin spreading across her face as she cups his jaw and closes the distance between them.

“Mhm,” he confirms against her lips, before slanting his lips over hers, their kiss clumsy for the way they’re both smiling into it.

Her eyes flutter closed as his palm slides under her T-shirt and onto her back to tug her closer.

“When we were fourteen,” she challenges, backing him into the counter and nipping along his jaw until a quiet moan escapes his lips, “you left a bouquet of flowers in my room once a week.”

“Yes, well, I–did have a lot of them,” he manages between kisses. 

She chuckles at him, even as her fingers thread into his hair and his tongue traces the seam of her lips. “Robin?”


She pulls back for a moment, dropping her forehead to his as they catch their breaths, his stubble prickling her palms. Affection coils warm in her belly for the boy who left her a bouquet of wildflowers after every recital, the man who brought flowers to her concert and worried he somehow wasn’t sophisticated enough for her, and yet was brave enough to show up on her doorstep anyway,  “I’ve been in love with you since we were fourteen, too.”