he looks beautiful in that waistcoat!!!!!

Suits, volleyball, and all the headcanon in between.

[Terushima, Futakuchi, Noya, Tanaka, Ushijima and Tendou here]
[Akiteru, Kei, Kageyama and Hinata here]
[Ladies of Karasuno here]

Kuroo.

  • Black on black. No tie, open two-buttoned suit jacket that hugs his waist, the top two buttons of his shirt are undone. Tailored wingtip derbies, black and matte- polished to perfection.
    • He’s actually the one who dislikes wearing suits the most (I mean, have you seen the guy, he literally looks like he throws on whatever he has lying on his bed).
    • Oh, but if you challenge him, or if the need arises- he’s going to be the sexiest guy in the room because he sure as hell isn’t going to lose at anything.
      • Hours of research and a lot of changing rooms is not going to be for nothing. If he’s going to suffer, he’s going to do some real damage before he goes (namely to your short-circuited brain and perhaps severe blood loss via nosebleed).
    • He tried the red and black combination once, until a girl actually came up to him and asked him which host club he worked at, and he’s stuck to black from then on.
    • Those undone buttons on his shirt? Collarbones. They’re so sharp that they can slice through paper, and it makes his neck slimmer and his smirk all the sexier.
    • Everything’s been absolutely tailored at least twice, and it’s so on purpose. Can you imagine those legs- miles and miles of slim height and oh, he knows you’re staring. He’ll wink right back.
      • Now that he thinks about it, he’s never had to buy his own drink before, and thus Kuroo’s legendary alcohol tolerance was born.

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it was late, sometime after dinner and the sun had long since set leaving the loft bathed in warm tones, the city outside was a mix of purple and blue, run through with sparkling lights. the curtains were shifting, a soft rustling sound that was mixing with the quiet flicker of candles and the sounds of the city wafting in with the slight breeze. but those weren’t the sounds that alec was fixated on. no, he was fixated on the sounds behind him as he lay there on the couch, his eyes closed, and his breathing slow and even. he was focused on the sounds of magnus working.

glass jars were clinking together, put back in their rightful places and rearranged, and every so often there would be a pause, a deep hum or a small whisper. he could hear magnus moving, his feet shifting on the rugs. he could hear a pen on a page, the quiet scribble of magnus’s handwriting, and the wet sound of a potion being absently stirred. it was comforting, listening to the busy sound of magnus moving. these were all sounds he had grown so accustomed to, so much so that they were sending him off to sleep as he lay there, body exhausted from a long day of putting out proverbial fires at the institute.

it was a funny thing, the way it seemed to hit him every so often. the soft hum of the loft was wrapped around him, every quiet noise pressing in on him and making him feel so safe. the smell of this place, their home had settled in around him, a smell that had been so distinctly magnus, but had become so distinctly them. it registered again, for the thousandth time, that this was his home. this was his place of comfort and safety, his space he shared with a man who he loved and who loved him. this was where he belonged.

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rainsweet

for  @elias21babybull as part of the #BabyBullFest. 

ao3

Elias loses his virginity in the back of a car that smells like pencil shavings and fresh rain to a boy with chocolate curls and a cherry blossom mouth.

Elias meets Adam for the first time at the library, and immediately puts his foot in his mouth.

“I’m only waiting for my brother, I’ve read most of the books in here already,” Elias insists to the boy, the strange teenager dressed in a pale pink sweater with a pretty white bow on the collar. Elias thinks he’s doing the boy a favor at first, because no one must speak to the boy very often. He dresses very strange and looks more like a girl than a boy. Elias is doing the boy a favor, yes.

But the boy just blinks up at him with long, curling lashes that flutter without him even trying, and Elias thinks he must have a lot of friends, he’s so pretty. “Are you Gabriel’s older brother?” His voice is high and sweet, like liquorice candy and melted caramel. “The one who fought Sven Irlin in the courtyard last week?”

Elias’s chest puffs out, ready to set the record straight. “He hit me first, he’s a horrible boy. I won easily, even though he had three friends. No, it was five. No, ten! I beat them all!”

“Well, Gabriel certainly is lucky,” says the boy. “He must be very proud to have a strong brother like you.” Those lashes swoop down, shy and sweet, and Elias would’ve been flattered had he not seen the boy’s smile.

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(Gif not mine but writing is)

Newt has the Giggles

“How do I look?” Newt asked as he gestured at himself. You adjusted the strap on your deep purple coloured dress before walking into the room to see. Newt stood in the centre of the room. You immediately saw his freckled face that framed his green eyes which were partially covered by his reddish brown hair.  He was wearing a mustard coloured waistcoat, white shirt, dark trousers and bow tie. Though it was pretty much what he usually wore daily, the big difference was that it was impeccably clean. 
“You look great.” you reply smiling. Newt’s eyes widen and his mouth opens slightly as he sees you.  “You look beautiful.“ he tells you, a light blush filling his cheeks. Smiling, you look back at him as you also blush. 

Looking at him with that goofy smile he sure was cute but it was always clear that your friendship was platonic. He never seemed to be particularly interested in anyone in that way and you were no exception. You’d been best friends for a couple of years and friends since Hogwarts. You travelled over to New York with him from the UK. It was one of the best decisions the pair of you had made as you had become friends with fellow witches Tina and her sister Queenie in addition to a muggle called Jacob. 

Excitedly, all five of you enter the bar and sat at a table, you all start congratulating Newt. The special occasion was to celebrate the completion of his book draft of ‘Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them’. You were so proud of his accomplishment. So everyone insisted that they bought him a drink each. Though you only had the one glass. You didn’t really drink alcohol much, so one glass was enough. Newt initially protested having so many glasses of giggle water but Queenie encouraged him, pointing out that it was rude to refuse gifts. 

Slowly the drinks went down as you talked about anything and everything, the contents of the book, plans for the future and how glad that you were all celebrating with everyone. It felt fantastic just to relax in each other’s company. 


“And that’s why you should never stand behind an erumpent for too long.” Newt chuckled. Everybody laughed in response to his funny story. Completely encouraged he excitedly asked “Shall I tell you the story about the murtlap in the toilet?” knowing that disgusting story, you collectively answered ‘no’ before everyone started to burst out laughing again. You stared at Newt’s smiling face as one of your fingers traced the rim of your empty glass.
He was being rediculous. The giggle water had definitely made him more confident, that was for sure. He was suddenly the head of the conversation rather than saying the odd comment like he usually did. 

Catching your gaze, Newt looked at you with a playful grin. "Look at (Y/N). Isn’t she amazing.“ he said proudly to everyone whilst pointing one of his empty glasses at you. His kind words causing a collective “Aww” from the Goldstein sisters.
“I was so lucky to find her. She makes me happier than a niffler counting its gold collection.” he continued enthusiastically.

“Newt please, you’re embarrassing me in front of everyone.” you smile whilst blushing. Not to be discouraged as you nervously fidget in your chair, he continues. 
“Just look at her.” Newt said as he nudged Jacob’s arm with his elbow. Jacob looked at you with an ‘I’m sorry’ smile. A serious expression flashes on Newt’s face. 
“Hey, hey Jacob don’t look at her that much.” he said playfully waving his arms. 
You giggled, which was quickly joined by everyone’s laughter. 

Despite Tina attempting to change the subject, Newt’s eyes were glued on you as he said loudly with glee “She’s so smart. Helping me out with all my creatures every single day. I won big with her didn’t I? Didn’t I? Got brains and beauty. She’s like the gleaming stars that brighten the night sky. Look at how she sits there, effortlessly gorgeous.”
The conversation went quiet. You gazed at him in surprise as he looked at you with sparkling eyes and a wide stupid grin.  He had never spoken about you like this, not even in private. You could tell that Queenie was reading Newt’s mind as she was staring at him with a huge smile on her face. His thoughts must be hilarious as she quietly giggled. Newt looked at you with intensity in his eyes and a mischievous smirk. Still staring at Newt, Queenie’s eyes widened and she almost choked on her drink. You wonder what thought he had to give her such a reaction. 

“Ooook it’s pretty late, maybe we should start heading home. You can all crash at our place, right Tina? It’s the closest home from here and I don’t think that some people are in any state to apparate anywhere.” Queenie said as Tina nodded in agreement. 
Newt shakily stood up, staggering forward as he tripped over the legs of chairs as he walked. Darting forward, you reach for his hand and quickly grabbed it to stop him from falling over. 
“Thank you” he yelled as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders for extra support, unintentionally putting all of his weight on you. Seeing you wince in discomfort Newt whispered “sorry” whilst removing his arm and settling for gripping your hand firmly instead. 

The walk to the Goldstein apartment was hilarious. Newt had created a song made of the names of all the creatures in his book. He kept asking the gang to join in, despite none of you knowing the words. Gently he’d squeezed your hand signalling to you that it was your turn to sing. Which you reluctantly did. 

After fumbling around in her bag for the keys, you all finally entered their apartment. "I think I’m going to go to bed. Thank you for a great evening. There’s tea and coffee in the kitchen if anyone wants it.“ yawned Tina as she made her way down the hallway. After kissing Queenie, Jacob led her into another room. Which left you and Newt alone in the living room. You looked around, eyeing up the kitchen. A mug of tea is just what you needed. Before you you start walking there, Newt strutted to the centre of the room. 
“I know what this celebration needs.” he said whilst grinning. He leant forward and started to produce a low and loud snorting sound. ‘Oh no’ you thought to yourself, he is totally going to do the full erumpent mating dance.

“Umm Newt… Perhaps we should just sit down and drink some tea or coffee” you say, quickly grabbing his jacket and pulling him onto the sofa. You sit next to him to make sure that he doesn’t get up and start dancing again. You both sit there staring at each other and giggling. Newt raises one of his hands and gently brushes your cheek and then carefully tucked a loose hair behind your ear. His eyes were intense as they focused on yours. His face looked as if he was concentrating, slowly memorising every detail of you. You unintentionally bite your bottom lip a little and tremble slightly because of how close he was to you with those beautiful gazing eyes. 

“I’m such an idiot.” he says in a serious tone. 
“Why?” you asked with a confused giggle.
“For never doing this.” he answered. In one swift movement he wrapped one arm around your waist to bring you closer to him, whilst the other gently lifted your head up. Hesitating for a second before he gave in to himself and started to cover your neck in soft kisses.
Suddenly your breath hitched and you could feel your face growing warmer as you blushed. This quick and unexpected action took you by surprise and it all felt like the most wonderful dream.  You didn’t know how much of this was Newt or how much of it was the giggle water that he had drank but honestly you did not care. 
Shyly he pulled away. “Sorry I just could not resist.”
You chuckled at his words. 

“Maybe I should make us both a nice strong cup of tea.” you say, about to stand up.
“No!” Newt yells as he pulls his arm closer around you with such force that you both fall backwards, so you are now both laying side by side on the sofa. You both giggle. Judging by his firm grip it looks like you are now not going to be going anywhere. So you nuzzle your face into his chest as he starts to gently stroke your hair.
Exhausted from the eventful evening, Newt yawns and begins to close his eyes. 

“Can I tell you a secret? But you must promise not to tell (Y/N).” Newt asks in a mumble as he slowly starts to drift off to sleep. 
“Of course.” you answer whilst trying to stifle a laugh. 
“I love (Y/N). I really, really do.”

anonymous asked:

48% (I'm on mobile so it doesn't show the decimal) Magnus taking Alec clothes shopping for a formal event?

between the warm wood, the soft glow of spotlights, the bustle and murmur of the store outside these walls dampened by a heavy curtain across the doorway, alec couldn’t put a finger on how he felt. all he knew was that as he stood there slowly buttoning one of the shirts magnus picked out for him, he couldn’t stop staring at him in the mirror.

magnus was leaning up against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his pants and he had a pensive look on his face. his lips were pursed, his dark brown eyes catching some of the light, lit up at the sides showing just how rich that brown was. he was so stately always, he fit right into a place like this, with his fitted waistcoats and his beautiful button up shirts. he looked like a gentleman, like a tailors dream and he knew so much about all of this.

alec could remember the last time he had gotten fitted for a suit and the memory turned his stomach. the dread that had twisted his insides as he stood like this, but instead was staring at the impassive calm of his mother in the mirror, knowing that when this suit was done he was going to wear it to an event that might as well have been his funeral.

which was why when magnus brought it up, he hadn’t been too keen. 

but this day had been nothing like that. this day had been warm and full of laughter. this day had been magnus pulling him in to show him fabric and pressing cufflinks into his palm. this day had been magnus circling him as they took his measurements and winking, laughing so big and bright every time alec beat him to an innuendo. this day had been nothing like any of the other suit fittings he had ever been through in his life.

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anonymous asked:

Stony- one tries to cook the other's favorite meal.

There’s flour… everywhere.


Tony doesn’t even know where to begin. It’s like something you’d see if a grenade exploded in a bakery.

Just… so much flour.


“I… what?” Tony tries with, dropping his briefcase by the door and taking off his sunglasses as he observes the… well, mess seems like an understatement, really.

There’s a lid somewhere it really shouldn’t be, and Tony can’t quite manage to take his eyes off it (the roof.The answer is the roof. It’s been jammed in between the tiles at what looks like intense speeds).

Steve looks over to him, a little overwhelmed. Tony can’t really make out many of his features- too much flour. “I don’t know? I don’t? I don’t know? I just tried to make you something I knew you’d like but this is really not the intended outcome? I… I set our dinner table on fire. I don’t even know how it started. I think I just thought about it for too long and it spontaneously combusted. Also I think I accidentally boiled Clint’s underwear”

Tony blinks a few times. Debates whether or not he is just having a rather surreal dream. “I… suppose they did need boiling at some point. Just for the sake of hygiene, if anything,” he agrees, watching Steve nod vaguely in agreement.

Tony opens his mouth, and then decides against it. He’s just caught sight of the oven, which somehow managed to concave in on itself whilst Tony was gone. He gestures to it, and Steve giggles a little, before slipping forward- caught off guard by the flour. There’s just so much flour.

“I’m never going to cook ever again,” Steve declares desolately from the floor. He looks like a puppy who just got caught chewing furniture.

Tony sighs. Mourns for his beautiful Armani waistcoat for a moment. Then sits down in the pile of flour right next to Steve’s ass. “Usually you know I would be all for trying to rid you of that negative behavior- but you know what? Agreed. Lets leave the cooking to me, babe.”

“I don’t even know how the lid got there,” Steve mumbles, letting his head drop on to Tony’s shoulder.

“Hmm- I think, perhaps you should also never go within five feet of the pressure cooker ever again?” Tony asks; closing his eyes and wondering if it’s possible to get high from snorting too much flour.

“I think perhaps I should never go within five feet of the kitchen for the rest of my life,” Steve grumbles.

Tony doesn’t even try and argue with it. “It’s for the best,” he says, kissing Steve’s floury hair.

Happy Accidents

I started this story for a fandom friend who has her birthday in October, but as usual I’m so slow that I’m posting this weeks too late… So I’m going to dedicate this to all the October Gleeks. Here’s a fluffy coffee shop AU for you. Enjoy!

Prompt: Blaine, who is going to the same coffee shop every morning, at the same time for his morning fuel, is confused. At the coffee shop, he often sees the same faces - of the other regulars. There is one particular face he looks forward to seeing though, but Blaine is just not sure if the face belongs to one or two men (twins). Kurt has shared custody of his kid. The weeks when he is dad he dresses one way, the other weeks he is more sharply dressed.

“A Venti Freshly Brewed Coffee for… Blaine?”

Blaine looked away from the gorgeous man he’d been admiring the profile of and hastened to the counter for his drink. “Thank you, Carmen!”

Carmen looked surprised that he’d made the effort to check her name tag and address her by her name, but as soon as it sank in, she beamed at him and wished him a good day.

“Same to you, Carmen!”

Blaine smiled at her and turned around, nearly bumping into Mr. Gorgeous. “Oops, sorry!”

Oh, would you look at those eyes!

“No harm done,” Mr Gorgeous chuckled. “And even if it had, what I’m wearing is stain-proof.”

He pointed to his black windbreaker and dark blue jeans.

“True,” Blaine answered absently, trying not to ogle the man too much – wow, he was stunning!

The man chuckled again, winked at him and moved out of his way.

Blaine looked over his shoulder, noting that the back view was just as nice. He took a sip of his coffee, checked his watch and then hurried to his dance class.

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Catch Me If You Can

Hook catches Emma sunbathing on the Jolly Roger.

A quick one shot, set in a time of peace but Emma and Killian aren’t a thing.

My laptop was updating, so I decided to write this whilst I waited to write my other stuff. Just a bit of a fluffy thing, hope ya like it!

Ao3




   Emma was sweating. It was a peaceful time in Storybrooke. For once. The sun was glaring down over the town, everyone was wearing shorts and t-shirts, the beach was packed like sardines, kids were running around throwing water balloons and shooting water guns at each other, which even some of the adults joined in playing. The ice cream parlour would probably be making a fortune, especially as new recipes and flavours had been released that week.

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Hurricane (Alexander Hamilton x Reader)

Originally posted by girlwithlandscape

Pairing: Alexander Hamilton x Way-Finder!Reader

Requested?: Day Two for my write-a-thon!

Prompt: Reader is a way-finder from Nevis and decides to take her best friend with her on a journey.

Words: 3000+

Warnings: Loosely Based on Moana, Storms, Adventure, Angst, Death

Masterlist

~~~

You weren’t always home.

Alexander knew how independent and adventurous you were. You lost your parents at a young age like he did. You two became the best of friends. You did everything together; eat, play, read, write, even go down to the harbor and mess with the fishermen and merchants. You were very tomboyish so Alexander didn’t have to worry about being too gentle with you. You were his best friend and he was yours.

But, he knew something was pulling you away.

You always loved the ocean. The waves crashing on the shore, the muddy sand between your toes, and the salty ocean breeze filled you with adventure and contentment. You wanted to travel and discover new places across the sea. Hell, you even crafted a Polynesian sailboat like the ones ancient voyagers once had. You had your heart set on the sea while Alexander had his set on the New World. He was leaving Nevis and making his island proud by going to New York and getting an education. You were happy for him, but you wanted him to come with you. You wanted Alexander to experience the sea and discovery with you. He was all you had.

It was three days after a horrible hurricane when you decided to leave.

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Obliviate

Pairing : Newt Scamander x Reader

Rating : PG

Word Count : 955

Warnings : N/A

Request : Reader is obliviated, but she sees a cat that is following her. I mean, as Newt as an Animagus. May be some form of fluff and reunion. Thank You!

Four months, he’s watched you. Four months, he’s waited for you to remember something, anything at all, but you never did, you always remained oblivious to him and to his world. Four months and he was willing to give up, he was never going to get you back.

You were sitting in your rather small kitchen making yourself a hot coco, you were confused because you had never made a hot coco before and somehow your brain knew what to do even if you didn’t.

“Meow!” a cat sounded from the window in the living room.

“Hello there” you said as you let the rusty coloured cat into your house.

“Would you like something to drink” the cat seemingly nodded. Weird, you thought to yourself as you placed a dish of milk in front of him. He was a beautiful rusty orange with what seems to look like a slightly dark waistcoat markings.

“What a peculiar cat” you said more to yourself than anyone else. And yet the cat looked up and almost grinned. How can that be? You thought. Your clock chimed from the kitchen.

“Crap I’m going to be late!” You hurried to gather your things and get to work your hot coco abandoned on the kitchen bench. As you were leaving you turned back to the cat that had disappeared, you shook your head and left thinking that he probably exited through the window.

~Later that day~

Your job wasn’t exactly hard, you worked in a small coffee shop, but man was it tiring. Your shift was almost over when a tall lanky man came stumbling through the door.

“How may I help you sir?” You asked him politely. He seemed to jump at the sound of your voice and his eyes looked up to your own. It seemed as time had almost frozen when you looked into his sea blue eyes that seemed so familiar.

“Do I know you?” You asked and the man broke eye contact and looked down sadly.

“No, no you don’t” he whispered.

“Oh sorry, you just seemed…familiar. Anyway what can I get for you today, Mr…?” You questioned.

“Scamander, Newt Scamander, and just a coffee please”

“Sure thing!”

Over the course of the next month Newt had come in for his coffee every day just as you were getting off work and the two of you would sit together and talk. He told you of a Y/H/C haired girl, his girlfriend who had forgotten who he was and she doesn’t remember anything about him, his stories always made you sad. Over the course of the month the cat also visited more frequently often coming in to lie on your lap as you read.

“Hi Newt! The usual?” You exclaimed.

“Yes thank you Y/N” Newt said as he came and sat down on a stool.

“So what’s been happening in the big wide world of Newt Scamander?” You asked as you made his coffee.

“Oh nothing much” he said dropping his head; the truth was he was working on a spell to bring back your memory but he hasn’t had any luck.

“What’s wrong? Is it your girlfriend?” You asked as you handed the man his coffee.

“Yeah she still doesn’t remember me” he sighed.

“Have you tried kissing her yet? If you two were as close as you were it might help” you placed your hand on the sorrowful man’s shoulder.

He sighed again, “I don’t she would appreciate it Y/N.”

“Nonsense who wouldn’t love a man like you?” the truth was you had indeed fell in love with Newt over the past month and as much as it pained you, you wanted to see him happy.

“But what if she doesn’t remember?” Newt whimpered and it broke your heart.

“I’m off in five we can take a walk then” you said walking towards the back of the coffee shop to let your boss know you were leaving.

“Okay let’s go” you took Newt’s hand and lead him out of the shop but you didn’t notice the blush spreading across his cheeks.

~A few hours later~

Newt had gone home and you were sitting in Central Park thinking things over when the rusty coloured cat showed up.

“Why hello again” you greeted reaching out to pat the cat who had jumped up on the bench beside you.

“Meow” it simply greeted back while rubbing its head against your leg.

“Do you have an owner or are you a stray” you whispered as you continued petting the cat with the same fur colour as…Newt? You quickly but gently nudged the cat’s head to look at you and its eyes were as blue as the sea.

“Newt!” you exclaimed, the memories flooding back to you. You tightly gripped the arm of the bench as your memories played like a film in front of you.

“N-Newt?” you turned to where the cat was only to find the man of your memories there instead.

“H-Hey love” he said sheepishly.

“I-What-How” you struggled to string words together.

“It’s a long story” he whispered reaching out for your hand and you let him take it.

“I thought I had lost you” he said as he rubbed your hand.

“I’m so sorry Newt” tears started falling down your face.

“No don’t be sorry it wasn’t your fault” he embraced your sobbing form.

You sat there in silence until Newt spoke. “Come back to England with me. Please, they can’t separate us there. I can’t lose you again, I just can’t!”

“Of course I’ll go with you. I love you Newt.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

Please Like and reblog this story if you found enjoyment in it (in the off chance considering this is horrible) to get this blog recognised. Thank you!!!

Tag List - @carmineofmidgard @dumbleshook @fantastico-beasts @padampatil @abirosebrowne @cherryskies13

Blue Flames Part 1

Part 1

A/N: Okay, I know, I know I have plenty of stuff to pay attention to *side-eyes college papers and exams* buuuuuuuuuuut… I just couldn’t help myself. So here is my next series!!

None of the pics are mine, all are taken from Pinterest.

Words: 3275

Pairing: Jaebum/Reader

Genre: Magic AU/Witch Hunters AU/Early 1900′s

Summary: When you return to your home to find only remains from what your life used to be, some unwelcome visitors knock on your door…

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archiveofourown.org
Toss the beginning, try to live it down - skoosiepants - Whatever - SJ Goslee [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

There are speeches, and Mike stares dumbly up at Wallace, fingers clenched around his glass stem, because Wallace is beautiful. Wallace has aged like a champ. Wallace has premature flecks of gray at his temples and his eyes crinkle up when he smiles. He’s wearing a waistcoat and a watch fob and he should’ve looked like a complete tool, but Mike just wants to dig his fingers up under it and press his mouth along his jaw. He’s so screwed.

Or –

Serge Wallace gets married, and Rook Wallace is the goddamn love of Mike’s life.


So if you’re itching for a sequel to WHATEVER, here’s a short story that takes place ten years later. Canon only in the sense that I’m in charge of the source material - it feels super odd writing fanfic for my own book, but, uh *hands*.

Let’s all blame @inkandowl for being amazing and enabling. I can probably point fingers at @lissadiane too :)

anonymous asked:

Ianto used to be REALLY insecure about his tum.

I’m so glad that we’re going back to my roots and talking about Ianto’s tum. His tum is…extremely important to me.

One of the best things about suits and waistcoats is that they’re very restrictive. They create sharp lines and angles that can work like a corset and subtly hide any so-called “imperfections” that Ianto might not like about his looks. But, luckily, Jack loves Ianto both in and out of the suit, and tells him so quite frequently. He also reminds Ianto that, even though tums might not be considered the standard of 21st century beauty (which is bullshit anyways), Ianto’s tum means that he’s eating more and taking care of himself. Not using his work or taking care of Lisa as an excuse to skip a meal or two. And that is beautiful and worth being proud of, much more so than a flat stomach and a slim waist.

quinninthenorth  asked:

"This was the biggest mistake of her life."

This was the biggest mistake of her life.

But when Mr Gold - (her) powerful, intimidating, (broken, lonely, beautiful), landlord Mr Gold - had arrived on her doorstep dripping wet and seeking shelter from the storm, Belle had let him inside. When he had stumbled, soaked to the skin and frozen, his ankle failing him, she had helped him into a chair and out of his soaked jacket, waistcoat and tie, then eased his shoes and socks from his feet and massaged warmth and soothing balm into his swollen, twisted foot.

She was kind and empathetic by nature, but what she had felt looking up at him then, his weakness in her hands and his eyes so rich, deep, dark and more open than she’d ever seen them hadn’t felt like simple kindness or empathy.

It was a moment of weakness, kissing the broken joint, murmuring her sympathy into his skin; it was madness itself to allow his shaking hands to draw her up and into his lap; It was unthinkable to kiss his trembling mouth, this man who could destroy her with a snap of his fingers.

His mouth tasted like rainwater and whiskey, and if it was wrong to kiss him then Belle never wanted to be right again.

Send me a sentence and I’ll write the next five!

Becoming Mrs Scamander

Hi there! If it’s okay with you, can you make a one shot about newt and reader’s wedding? Before, during and after? I apologize if it’s too much to ask but it would be wonderful if you did :) thanks a bunch!

I’ve been super excited to write this, I did some research into 1920’s fashion and wedding and what have you so I’m hoping that it’s time accurate. it gets a little bit saucy  towards the end, but not too much.

Originally posted by bethereinagiphy


“it’s just for one night, sweetheart ’ you soothed as you pushed the curly mess of hair out of newts eyes. He enveloped you into a cuddle burying his face into the crook of your neck, so your parents wouldn’t be able to hear what he was saying, from where they were sitting in the plush living room ‘I know but the bed will be so cold and empty without you’  you giggled slightly, he placed a quick kiss to your shoulder before he straightened to his full height, you were pleased that you had decided to wear higher heels tomorrow, the height difference was a little ridiculous.

Your parents said their goodbyes and you got one last quick kiss as miss y/l/n.

‘come on dear, I’ll run you a bath and do your hair’ your mother ushered you into the familiar bathroom, and turned the taps on the claw foot bath, adding a dash of lavender, to help you sleep.
You chatted as you waited for the large bath to fill, 'i couldn’t be more happy for you my lovely girl, I’ve been hoping that this day would come ever since you met newt, all those years ago, on the train. you’re so good for each other, and the way he looks at you, like you mean more to him than all of the treasures in the world’ Your mother admired, causing your cheeks to flush slightly. you had often joked that your mum should be dating newt, for how much she gushed  about him.
With the bath now filled, your mother left you in peace. You striped down and tested the water, it was perfect, you slid into the warm water, bubbles up to your chin.
You sighed utterly content, and allowed your mind wander to the first time you had met your future husband.
~
Utter panic ran rampant around your stomach, how could you have lost your cat already? You had been on the Hogwarts Express for all of thirty minutes, and he had wandered off.
You peered in every compartment window, your heart would lift with every cat that you saw but would soon plummet once more, when you realised that it wasn’t your ball of smokey grey fluff.
You were beginning to lose hope, he wouldn’t jump out of one of the windows would he? Could he? You were running out of compartments to check. you reached the door third from the end and looked forlornly through the glass. A boy sat, maybe a year or so older than you, with a pile of grey fluff on his lap, ‘excuse me, is that your cat?’ your voice small and a little dejected, the boy looked slightly startled by your presence, ‘no, no he just jumped onto my lap, I’m hoping that somebody will come to collect him, it would be awful if he lost his friend so early’ you smiled at the boy as you encouraged the cat to look up, so you could make sure that he was yours.

You let out a sigh of relief, ‘oh thank goodness, thank you so much for looking after him, it was very kind, I hope he hasn’t shed too much on your robes’ you rambled as the boy’s freckled face flushed a little pink, and you scooped up your cat from his knee.

“it was no trouble, really, he’s lovely and I’m usually covered in animal hair anyway, so I really wouldn’t worry too much about it’  he said with a lopsided smile.

 

~

You pulled yourself out of the welcoming bath and wrapped yourself in a large white fluffy towel, a fond smile on your face, from the happy memories, as you pulled your pyjamas on.

You padded into the living room and plopped yourself down in front of your mothers feet. She gently ran her fingers through your damp hair, and began wrapping sections up in rags and pinning them place. “do you remember me doing this when you were a little girl? We would end up on the other side of room because you thought I was pulling your hair.’ She said with a chuckle, you smirked and rolled your eyes ever so slightly.

The three of you chatted, as you sat at your mothers feet as you had so many times before.

Once your hair was securely pinned in place, your mother shepherded you to bed, insisting that you had a big day ahead of you and you should get some beauty sleep.

When you reached your bed, on your pillow lay a primrose, bluebell and a carnation along with a note that read in Newts spidery handwriting ‘I can’t wait to marry you, all my heart newt’ your heart fluttered, you held the beautiful flowers to your nose. Your eyes watered, you couldn’t quite believe how lucky you were to have newt, as you sniffled you placed the lovely flowers in the little vase that held the baby’s breath that would be wound into your hair tomorrow.

You crawled into bed and snuggled into your blankets, after some excited tossing and turning, you settled down and drifted off to sleep.

~

You grasped your fathers arm, as he lead you down the aisle towards newt, who looked fetching as ever, his smile grew even wider as you approached him. Your father clasped yours and newts hands together, he placed a kiss on your cheek and gave newt a smile, ‘you look after her now, I wouldn’t let her go for anyone less worthy’ his voice cracked, newt nodded, utterly serious. Your father gave you a watery smile filled with love, before he took his seat next to your mother.

You turned to newt, still hand in hand, ‘you are breath taking my darling’ you blushed behind your lace vale as the vicar began to speak.

It all seemed to go by in a blur, before you knew it, you were saying I do, picket standing proudly on newts shoulder, handing him your simple gold wedding band. He slipped it onto your finger, a giddy smile on his handsome face.

With the blessing of the vicar he flipped your vale of lace, he took a steadying breath, as he looked down at you. He gently tilted your head back ever so slightly, and placed a gentle kiss to your lips. You both broke out into goofy grins, as you pressed your foreheads together, as your friends and family cheered.

~

Newt found your hand under the table, where it was resting on your lap, ‘first dance love’ your face paled slightly, you had been dreading this. Dancing with newt in your living room was all well and good, but in front of people. The thought alone made you feel queasy.  

Newt sensing your unease leant into you, ‘give your mum your shoes’ he murmured ‘pardon?’ you were utterly bewildered, why would you need to give your shoes to your mum? Newt guided you to the dance floor, and gestured to your mother, still completely befuddled, you took off your shoes, your feet breathing a sigh of relief, and handed them to your mum, giving her a puzzled look. You shuffled back to newt, painfully aware of all of the sets of eyes on you. Newt took your waist, your heart thumping in your ears, before he picked you up and placed you back down on his feet. You looked down and back up at your husbands face, brow furrowed, he only smiled in reply, as he began to dance with you.

You moved your hand from his shoulder to cup his slightly stubbled jaw, he leaned in to your touch and placed a quick kiss to your palm.

You rested your head against his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat, as he rested his chin on the top of your head. You simply swayed, revelling in the moment of peace.

~

Finally newt managed to steal you away, you had said most of your goodbyes and thank yous. with just a hand full of stragglers, newt intertwined his fingers with yours and placed a kiss to the back of your hand. He lead you out of the reception hall and back into the house, you were followed with a wolf whistle, which newt elected to ignore.

You made it to your room, hands intertwined. Newt pushed the door open and locked it quietly behind you. He ran his large hands up your sides, ‘are you alright, Mrs Scamander?’ a broad smile spread across your face, placing your hands on his shoulders, ‘l have never been happier, Mr Scamander’, newt cupped your cheek, and brought his lips to yours, in a warm deep kiss. You knotted your fingers into his chestnut curls, he moaned into the kiss, as he grasped at your waist.

Newt turned you, so that you stood with your back to him, he ever so gently undid every fiddley satin button up the back of your beautiful dress, making sure to kiss every inch of newly exposed skin. He was on one knee by the time he reached the last button, he could see the tops of your ivory silky undergarments through the shear slip that you wore. With a calming breath he turned you around to face him, he looked up at you as you helped him back to his feet, you kissed each of his fingers before unbuttoning his waistcoat and sliding it off of his shoulders. You placed kisses at the base of his throat, where he had undone his bowtie and top button.

Newt slipped the silky dress down your body and it pooled at your feet, you stepped out of it as newt lead you to the bed, he lay you down gently on the soft sheets.

You fiddled with the buttons of newts shirt with shaking hands, you managed to undo them and pushed the shirt off of his freckled back.

Newt gohsted his slender fingers along the underside of your leg, bending it when he reached your knee, placing barely there kisses as he went. You sighed in utter bliss at the affection he was lavishing you with. He hummed at your response to his actions, a slightly smug smirk on his lips, as he looked at you with hungry eyes.

 

 

Bluebell - constancy and everlasting love

Carnation - betrothal, love and fertility

Primrose - first love

Have a great day and be safe

DBM 5.2 post-ep fic

My brain came up with what I think we all hope happened after that dance. I promised @marcuskaen and myself that I would post this before 5.3 aired. And since I still don’t have access to my laptop, I wrote and posted this on my ipad, so apologies on formatting (I’ll put it on ff.net soon)


“Dance with me. Life’s too short not to.”

Lucien took his fiancée by the hand and led her in a swaying dance to the music. He knew she was initially reticent to partake in his romantic whim. She usually was. But he also knew that she appreciated the little things he liked to do, like this. Dancing in the parlor for no reason other than the joy of dancing together.

He did his best to keep a respectful distance, but he couldn’t help continuously readjusting his hand on her back. He wanted to pull her closer. Or let his hand slide lower down her body. Or any number of things that would surely lead her to awkwardly stop him before they got carried away. Like last night when he’d kissed her in the kitchen, suggesting that perhaps they do a bit more. That had been foolish, he knew now. He knew it then, too, but it hadn’t stopped him.

Jean looked up into his eyes, so impossibly and beautifully blue. She felt the almost fidgeting quality of his hand on her back and smirked. He was trying very hard to restrain himself, which she found very sweet. Last night, she’d rebuffed him. As usual. But she hadn’t wanted to. She never really wanted to. When he held her and touched her and kissed her, all she wanted was more. She’d even put on the nightgown she was saving for him with every intention of going to his bedroom and having him take it off her. But Rose and Charlie and…she’d lost her nerve. Even more so after church today. She had always tried to live a good life, do as she was told, follow the rules, and she’d done rather well.

But here in Lucien’s arms, dancing in the parlor of the house they shared, Jean found she’d found her nerve again. She began to rub her hand up and down his shoulder as they danced.

“Charlie won’t be home for hours,” she noted quietly.

“Oh?”

Jean just smiled in response. Taking the hint, Lucien stepped a bit closer to her. Jean allowed him to hold her tighter against him until they were dancing cheek to cheek, flush against one another. She breathed in deeply, inhaling the gorgeous, comforting scent. Safe and secure and exciting and intoxicating. Everything Lucien always made her feel.

With a smirk, she rubbed her hips against him, feeling a slight twitch.

“Is that the pine bark taking effect?” she asked teasingly.

He chuckled and growled, “I think you’ll find that I don’t need any of that with you. We can wait until we’re old and tired and we’ve been married for thirty years before I need any kind of…enhancement.”

Jean began to laugh and tilted her head up to kiss him. Very quickly, they forgot all about dancing.

Lucien was waiting for Jean to stop him, as she always did. He could usually guess when she would pull away. But she never did. They continued kissing deeply for far longer than they ever had before. Many minutes went by.

Eventually, Jean did pull away. But not for the purpose Lucien was expecting. “I’m going to go change. I’ll meet you in your bedroom.”

His eyes went very wide with surprise. “Are…are you sure?”

She just smiled. “I won’t be a moment.”

Lucien stared after her as she hurried up to her room for whatever purpose she had in mind. When he heard the door to her bedroom open and close behind her, he regained motor function and went into his own room. He left the door open, as he assumed he was to expect her to join him. As she said she would.

He couldn’t quite believe that this was real, that she would be…would she? She said she would meet him in his bedroom. But that didn’t necessarily mean…did it?

Pacing back and forth in front of the bed, Lucien grew increasingly anxious. And increasingly excited. Whatever was to come, he knew he wouldn’t do a single thing she didn’t want. Not that he ever would in any other situation with Jean. But this was different. Especially before they were married.

Jean tiptoed down the stairs and into Lucien’s room, despite the fact that no one was in the house to overhear her footsteps. She entered and closed the door behind her, turning the key to lock it. When she turned back around, she found Lucien staring at her slack-jawed. She had put her special nightgown on again. This time she had made her way into his room with it. This time he saw her wearing it.

“I bought the nightgown for you,” she blurted, suddenly feeling extremely awkward and nervous.

“It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful,” he breathed.

His words calmed her. “Thank you,” she mumbled in reply.

“Jean, are you really absolutely sure you want to be here, now? We don’t have to do this. I was prepared to wait until we were married. However long that takes. We can wait. I promise I don’t mind.”

She shook her head. “We’ve waited long enough. And just as you said earlier, life’s too short not to.”

The look of pure love and adoration on his face was enough for Jean to know she was making the correct decision.

Jean left her place at the door and walked into the room to meet him.

He trailed his fingers up and down her bare arms, tracing the lace neckline. “Absolutely beautiful.”

Placing her hands on his chest, Jean suddenly realized the number of times they had given each other these small touches before. The way he would put a comforting hand on her arm, a squeeze of her shoulder. The way she would straighten his tie, let her fingers linger on the fabric of his waistcoat. But now, these little gestures of affection were so much more. Every touch made her heart beat fast and made her skin feel on fire. Jean clutched at his clothes and pulled him into a kiss, moaning into his mouth as she felt his hands on her waist, only the thin white silk between their skin.

Lucien felt dizzy. After months, even years, of dreaming of making love to Jean, it was somehow a reality. The haze of lust that overtook him needed to be quelled. This needed to be done right. He balled the fabric of the nightgown in his hands against her hips, lifting it ever so slightly as he pulled away. “Alright?” he asked, checking to be sure he wasn’t going too fast.

Jean nodded. Instead of giving him a verbal answer, she began unbuttoning his waistcoat.

He was transfixed by her movements, barely registering that she’d loosened his tie and was now going to work on his shirt.

“Lucien, you’ll need to let go of me if I’m going to get these things off you,” she murmured. His hands were still firmly on her hips, which precluded removing the various layers off his arms.

“Sorry,” he muttered, shrugging off the jacket, waistcoat, and shirt, and removing his tie. And before she could do anything else, he began kissing her again. This time, he led her to the bed, stumbling along the way as he tried to take off his shoes and socks without breaking the kiss. They tumbled onto the top of the comforter that Jean had meticulously made up that morning. “Is everything alright?” he told her, trying not to hate himself for allowing any break in their foreplay. “Jean, we don’t have to do this.”

“Oh yes we do!” Jean’s emphatic tone was match by her actions. She rolled over on the bed to lay on top of him, resuming their kiss. Hopefully Lucien would get the hint that she was doing exactly what she wanted to do, and he didn’t need to keep checking on her!

Apparently this time he got the message, because his hands found the hem of the nightgown and began their tactile journey underneath it, caressing her body.

They were a mess of limbs as remaining clothing got tossed aside with little thought beyond eliminating the barriers between their bodies.

“Oh Jean, my sweet Jean, my love…” Lucien murmured as his mouth and hands explored her flesh. He tried to use the words to ground himself, to remain present with her and to prevent himself from losing all control.

Jean couldn’t seem to form words. She emitted moans and breaths and cries of pleasure. Eventually she did say one coherent word, when she screamed his name in ecstasy.

Afterward, they lay side by side, panting heavily as they stared at the ceiling. Lucien was eventually able to get his breathing under control enough to quip, “I told you I don’t have any use for that pine bark.”

Jean laughed, “Yes, I think I’ll be needing it long before you will!”

He grinned proudly.

She rolled over and kissed his cheek. “I should go wash up back in my room. Might be best to get a move before Charlie gets home.”

Lucien reached out and grabbed her arm, preventing her from leaving. “Please don’t go. Stay through the night.”

Jean did hate to refuse him anything, especially now that they’d made love so beautifully and perfectly. But she gently pulled her arm away. “That will be something we should save for married life.” In truth, she desperately wanted to fall asleep in his arms and be woken by his kisses. Those were things for a husband and wife, in her mind, and as much as she loved him and now loved making love to him, some things should be reserved for after their wedding.

Lucien watched as she found her nightgown on the floor and put it back on for her short journey upstairs.

“Goodnight,” she said, giving him one last kiss before going.

“Jean?”

“Yes?”

“That is a really lovely nightgown. I do hope I’ll get to see you wear it again,” he said.

She gave a curt nod and a smile, saying, “Something to look forward to. Goodnight, Lucien.”

“Goodnight, my love.”

And with that, Jean went up to her room, and Lucien leaned back onto his rumpled bed and fell asleep with the sweetest dreams.

There was a gentle rustling as the suspended leaves dropped back to the ground. Where they had been, there was a man standing.

He seemed utterly bewildered. His first act was to put his hands up and smooth his hair, which was a thing that hardly needed doing, since the wind had not disturbed even the merest wisp of it. It was smooth and black and shiny as new tar. Having smoothed his hair, this man rearranged his starched white shirt cuffs and straightened his already straight pale gray cravat. After that, he carefully pulled down his dove-mauve waistcoat and, equally carefully, brushed some imaginary dust off his beautiful dove-gray suit. All the while he was doing this, he was looking from one to the other of the five of them in increasing perplexity. His eyebrows rose higher with everything he saw.

[…]

“Would one of you tell me where we are now?” he said

“Just outside Larwood Forest,” Nan said. “Hertfordshire.”

“In England, the British Isles, the world, the solar system, the Milky Way, the Universe,” Brian said scornfully.

“Ah yes,” said the man. “But which one?” Brian stared. “I mean,” the man said patiently, “do you happen to know which world, galaxy, universe, et cetera? There happen to be infinite numbers of them, and unless I know which this one is, I shall not find it very easy to help you.”

-Witch Week (Diana Wynne Jones)

I took a break from the fanbook and did a sketch that got a little out of hand… Christopher Chant, the 9 lifed asshole enchanter of my heart. I’ve always imagined that adult Christopher would look just like he came right out of a Leyendecker painting, like a slightly more old fashioned Arrow Collar Man, so here is a quick attempt at a Leyendecker rip off, haha. This was fun!!

montparnassee  asked:

Patron minette on CHRISTMAS MORNING because finally they have enough money/family for christmas

YES! This has a read more because it’s 1.6k and I can cannot be trusted with holiday prompts


Montparnasse opens his eyes and tries to decide if being awake is worth it. Wait, why is he in his living room? He sits up, his duvet sliding off him. He has apparently fallen asleep on his couch. There is snoring below him and when he looks down he sees Gueulemer sleeping on the floor. Curled up in a corner, in a mess of blankets that might almost be described as a nest, is Claquesous. Oh, right, Christmas. Montparnasse rubs his eyes. Babet had insisted on celebrating Christmas and since Montparnasse’s apartment is the biggest (due to Babet and Claquesous packing their floor full of unnecessary furniture), he finally relented and agreed to host. So for Christmas Eve they had all piled into his living room, watched some dumb movie and eating too many sweets and cookies. Montparnasse had lit some candles, because even though Babet had draped everything in Christmas lights it wasn’t really Christmas without candles, that much he was sure of.

Speaking of Babet, Montparnasse doesn’t see him anywhere. And he’s the one responsible for everyone sleeping on his floor, while having only to go up or down a flight of stairs to reach their own beds. He had insisted that Christmas morning means waking up together and staying in your pyjamas.

There is a shuffling noise behind him and Montparnasse turns around to see Babet coming out of his bedroom.

“The fuck?” he hisses.

Babet looks caught, but holds up Montparnasse’s laundry basket in defence. “For the presents,” he says quietly.

“Why do they need to be in a basket?” Montparnasse grumbles.

“Cause we don’t have a tree,” Babet says impatiently. “Now come on. You’ve got them right?”

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For Rent - Part 9

Mr. Gold/Belle,  G

Summary: Movies, popcorn, and communication.

Notes: And here we are, the home stretch. I anticipate one more chapter to close this out.

[AO3]

Gold was standing at the bar, eyeing the bottle of scotch he’d been drinking earlier when Belle came back down. “I know how you take your tea, but not what you prefer to drink,” he said, turning with the bottle in his hand.

She flopped down on the sofa, folding her legs under her, and smiled. “Whatever you’re having is fine.”

Gold moved around the small coffee table and held out one of the glasses for her to take, then sat himself at the other end of the sofa. Belle took a small sip of the scotch, shivering a little at the unfamiliar burn.

“I have wine if that’s too strong,” he offered, setting his own glass on the side table. He’d already had two earlier and he wasn’t about to get completely pissed with her around.

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