her calf muscle

title: assembly required

rating: t

ship: nalu

summary: “natsu you fuck, I sent you to build a wardrobe not marry my fucking sister” - they probably have the movie rights to this one

notes: AHHH @rivendell101 I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME FIFTEEN  YEARS TO DO alisha won second place (1.5K words) in my 2.2K follower giveaway and requested a nalu soulmate au involving writing on their person and while I had one written and ready to go like two weeks ago I went to IKEA and bought a wardrobe and while I was dismantling the stupid thing for the second time I had an idea and rewrote it.  this went over 1.5K words but oh well lmao 

notes p2: ok so in this au you’re born with half a word on your wrist, and your soulmate has the other half.  the word isn’t necessarily the first word your soulmate says to you, and you’ll know it’s them because it will flash a colour when one of you says it.  

From: Sparkypire

Time: 8:47 AM

Natsu(5) + {[Any situation(the amount of people)(proximity to Gray Fullbuster(5) OR Gajeel Redfox(3))] - Presence of Erza Scarlet(2)} + Access to pyrotechnics of any sort + Access to his phone = total level of destruction possible, plus-or-minus 2.

To: Sparkypire

Time: 8:48 AM

What the fuck?

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anonymous asked:

Have you ever written fic where the Harpies are talking/comparing their s.o or even brag about guys they have *been* with and Ginny kinda want to join them but what she and Harry share are for them only so she always give a non comittal response?

A/N: pretty short, combined with another prompt, and title courtesy of @annikaleigh24 woo!  I am working on tempus part 2 and still brainstorming for the follower celebration fics AH!.  Please believe me when I say teh delay is no reflection on how much I celebrate all of you, and more a product of my brain being a little buttface and not being creative.

Also available on FF and Ao3!


When Ginny wakes up to Harry nuzzling her belly button, green eyes twinkling, she’s optimistic it will be a good morning.  And when his lips start working their way down her abdomen, beard prickling against her skin, she knows this could make her week.

Which is why the locker room chitchat after practice that afternoon is so grating.  Without any input from Harry, Ginny had decided early on – like Fifth year early – that their relationship would remain private between them.  Largely because of Harry’s inescapable fame, but her decision became even firmer as her own fame rose.  If Harry Potter’s bedroom habits with some scrappy little red head drew in readers, his bedroom habits with one of the first string chasers for the Holyhead Harpies - and the World Cup team, fingers crossed - would be a hot commodity.  So when the usual Thursday, pre bar crawl night chatter is going on and Ginny realizes she’s one snide comment or pitying glance away from beginning a graphic speech about just how not boring her marriage bed is, she begins disrobing faster and shoving her robes into her bag.  Rank smelling or not.

One of the beaters – Sandra – saunters around the corner, toweling her pale hair dry and frowning at Ginny as she’s heading toward the door.  “Leaving Weasley?  Should be a fun night before you go back to dull married life.”

Despite the initial prick of offense, Ginny swallows down her retort in the name of team harmony and smiles lightly.  “I think I’ll just have a quiet night in,” she shrugs her bag further up her shoulder, “Harry’s been away almost two weeks and I barely had a chance to see him.”  But when I did it was very impactful, Ginny thought privately.

After wishing them a good night and promising to come out next time – they really aren’t a bad bunch, when you haven’t been deprived of your scandalously attractive husband for a fortnight – Ginny trots toward the apparition point and appears in the front entrance of their flat seconds later.

It’s quiet, when she gets there.  The faint, enticing scent of some sort of savory pie wafting through the flat, buttery and warm, draws Ginny toward the kitchen where she finds a partially empty bottle of Guinness on the counter and takes a swig.  Wandering closer to the stove, Ginny takes a big sniff and sets her mouth watering at the heady aroma of one of Harry’s signature pies.

He’s made a habit of it, cooking something a bit extravagant when he comes home from any extended work trip and they have a cozy night in, gorging themselves and getting reacquainted.  

So she’s pretty sure that given the late hour of his arrival last night, Ginny’s early morning wake up session, and the entirely homemade dinner waiting, Harry’s likely passed out on some flat surface, dead to the world.  Except, there was that one time he fell asleep in the shower, so she really can’t limit it to horizontal locations.

After padding through the flat on tiptoes with no luck in her search, Ginny presses the door to their bedroom open with a single finger, cursing herself for neglecting to oil the squeaking hinge as it squeals in the heavy silence.

Still, the lump of a husband that’s sprawled across the bed doesn’t move beyond a childish smacking of his lips, snuffling adorably as he burrows further into the mussed pillows.

Smiling softly to herself, Ginny disrobes as she makes her way toward the ensuite, letting the bathroom fill with warm air to ease her body aches before she steps under the sharp heat of the spray.  

By the time she’s exiting the loo in a cloud of steam, yellow light cutting a wedge across the darkened room. As the floorboards creak beneath her damp toes, Ginny turns abruptly toward the bed where Harry’s now open eyes glow in the dim lighting.  Her towel slips a bit and Harry’s smile flashes in the dark.  “No need to cover up for me, Mrs. Potter.”

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Olicity One Shot~ My cure to writer’s block

So this will make no sense but a friend named Matty or as many know her @supersillyanddorky06 suggested I cure my writer’s block by doing a free write. The shot might be odd, or disorganized but that’s what it’s meant to be. I needed to free my mind and by doing this I did just that. Thank you my friend and thank you to everyone who has ever read a word that I’ve typed. It means more than you could possibly know. 

His eyes looked frozen, that she could clearly remember as his gaze carefully scanned over the her painstaking words. His parted lips and quivering fingers made her own body tremble with unspoken fear. She watched him carefully through the security cameras that lined the walls of now heavily guarded building. His downcast eyes and fallen chin made her softly touch the flickering screen. His lips moved soundlessly before his knees gave way; she watched in silent torment as he slowly slipped to the cold ground. The letter fell beside him limply as she whispered into her self made darkness, “I’m sorry Oliver…I’m sorry…” 

5 Years Later…

“Are you sure about this?” the quiet voice beside him beckoned somberly. 

Oliver’s heavy, light-less blue eyes raced upwards toward the tower’s glowing tip. He felt her supportive touch near the small of his back; her soft perfume floated around him like a warm blanket as his body shuddered from his own internal cold. He croaked with tears forever frozen in his raw throat, “I’ll be fine Dinah, but I need to do this, I need to say goodbye…” 

He felt her gloved fingers pressing firmly over his spine. Her hiccuped reply made his chest burn, “Did she know?” 

His chin fell instantly to his cavernous chest, “What that I loved her and still do?” he mused tiredly. 

“You’re never going to move on are you?” she asked as her hand raced up his chilled spine. 

“I tried and she left…” he snapped quietly with not even a small note of hidden remorse. 

Dinah’s sighs over the nape of his neck warmed him momentarily before the chill of her words made his blood run cold. “She left because you betrayed her trust by trusting Susan over her.” 

His automatic nod seemed rehearsed when he seethed with repressed anger, “She left me long before that day Dinah…” 

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Learning, a Philinda Reunion Fic

Title: Learning

Summary: They’ve been best friends over half their lives. They know how they deal with trauma, what makes them happy, who they trust. They can recognize when someone is impersonating their partner. But they don’t know each other physically.

Rating: NC-17. There was only one reunion smut fic out there and that needed to be fixed.

Notes: Major spoilers to 4x12. Really not my usual writing style, the language is more colorful and gentle, but I wanted to experiment. [AO3 Link]


She never wanted to stop kissing him. 

Kissing Phil Coulson was like nothing else. They had kissed once or twice on undercover ops, but it had never been like this. Those kisses had been more withdrawn and far less intense. 

Intense was the only word to describe the way he was kissing her now.

Once hand cupped the back of her head, stroking her hair, while the other held onto her just beneath her ribs. His mouth pressed to hers, overlapping her bottom lip and not afraid to take control. She’d never found herself to like kissing so much until now, but kissing him was all she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

Although, now that she thought about it, there were more interesting things they could be doing than kissing right now.

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believe-that-you-can-my-friend  asked:

I'm probably terribly late to the party so if you're not doing the make-up titles anymore is totally fine, but in case you still do here's two for you (I cheated I couldn't send just one lol): Lust for Life, Red High Heels. :)))

Anything for you, Vera! <3

Lust for Life

It’s like Betty has just shut down. Someone flicked her off switch and the fire in her eyes had died. Jughead couldn’t do anything but panic until he took a breath and decided to show her why life was worth living again. 

I’m thinking this could turn into a road trip fic, getting out of Riverdale to explore some of the places they’ve always wanted to say, leaving the turf war behind because outside the town’s borders none of that matters. Joy rides on motorbikes and dining and dashing, sunset beach walks and overly indulgent milkshakes.

They end up at the top of waterfall, watching the rushing water below their feet as Jughead grips her hand in his. He looks at her, asking her silently if he’s done enough to keep her barrelling head first into unknown depths. She smiles at him, taking in a deep breath from the sweet air before turning her back on the abyss, pulling him with her as they start the trip home. 

Red High Heels

I tried to think of something not smutty but I literally couldn’t?

I feel like Juggie has a kink, and that kink is Betty Cooper in her red heels. She’d worn them to a town function, dragging him along against his will, and he couldn’t focus on anything else all night. 

The graceful arch of her foot, the way her calf muscles tense as she stood on tip toes, the way the straps encased her delicate ankles. He wants her in nothing but those heels, hooked round his thighs, pressing into the small of his back. Hell, he wants them thrown over his shoulders, locking behind his neck. 

Needless to say, Betty’s red high heels suddenly become a well worn pair of shoes. 

Thank you, my love!

anonymous asked:

1 Supercat

Raindrops held to the trees like Christmas lights, clinging to each branch as the fog settled over the busy National City street. The steady hum of taxis and people shouting in the distance couldn’t hold a candle to the noise Kara felt inside her head. She and Cat had walked six city blocks together. It was the farthest she’d ever known her former boss to travel on foot, especially in heels that lifted her well off the ground, making her calf muscles flex and hips sway against the tight fabric of her skirt. Kara tried not to notice, but it had always been impossible.

They were almost back to the hotel. Neither wanted the night to end, that much was clear.

“Are you coming up?” Cat twirled, letting her purse swing a bit before planting her free hand on her waist. She was a few bourbons in, just enough to take the edge off, but not so far gone that she didn’t know exactly what she was doing.

“Cat…” Kara sighed, running her hand through her hair, pushing her glasses up on her nose before sliding her hands into her coat pockets. “I don’t know if that’s…”

“What?” she squinted, challenging. “You think my intentions aren’t pure? I’m not that drunk…”

“Yes,” Kara laughed a little. “You are.”

Cat shrugged, both of them blushing at the truth.

“Fine,” she breathed, stepping an inch forward, reaching out, tracing her finger along the edge of Kara’s lapel. “Are you saying…you weren’t hoping things would end differently this time?”

“I…” the younger woman faltered. “…don’t really know…what I was hoping.”

“Hmm,” Cat mused. “Care to hear what I think?

“Always,” Kara nodded slowly.

“I think…” she began, leaning back against the wall. “…we’ve been doing this dance for far too long, you and I. Too many years, too many missed opportunities and…secrets…left unspoken. Too many other paths…other people…”

Kara swallowed, cringing at all the wrong turns and redirections, the silence, so much unforgivable silence, that had kept them apart. It nearly broke her back then, and it was doing a good number on her now. That, and the way Cat kept talking, making a speech to end all speeches, even as her beautiful green eyes began to water, her skin flushed, fingers playing with the loose ends of her leather jacket, the way she always did when she was trying to look more confident than she was.

“Cat?” Kara finally interrupted, taking one small, very important step forward.

“What?” Cat whispered.

“Please,” she pleaded, biting her lip hard. “Just…stop.”

“Why?” Cat glared. “So you can run away again? Is that what this is…”

“Me?” Kara gawked. “I’m not the one who…”

“Come on, Kara,” Cat dared. “We’ve been together all night and you’re still wearing those ridiculous glasses, talking to me like I don’t know exactly who you are and what you stand for and how absolutely brilliant and brave and incredible you are and have always been, instead choosing to play small, pretending like you aren’t just as riled up, like you don’t want exactly the same thing I…”

Kara stepped closer now, a bit more forcefully, taking a deep breath as she defiantly pulled her glasses from her face.

“Is this what you want?” she exhaled. “Honestly? Because…I’ve wanted do this so many times…so many times…and it kills me to think…to know…it’s never going to be enough to make you stay.”

Cat’s lips fell open, eyebrows crinkling as she faced her own part in all of this, that she too had caused them both pain, that she was ready now to fix it.

“Yes,” she admitted. “It is enough. It always…always has been.”

“Fine,” Kara sighed, licking her lips as she took another step forward. “Then…stay.”

Cat swallowed, tears stinging her eyes as she clenched her teeth.

“Come over here and make me,“ she breathed.

Kara was on her then, taking her in, pouring every bit of truth and forgiveness and longing into Cat’s full lips, pushing her back against the wall, sucking and lapping against her pout until Cat allowed her inside, tongues slipping and speaking, saying more than words ever could.

What Friends are For: Pietro/Reader

Rating: NC17

Word Count:1977

Summary: You come home from a stressful week of working, unable to complete the mission Fury has sent you on. Being the good friend he is, Pietro helps relieve some stress. 

Author Notes: I’ve wanted to write Pietro smut so badly so I wrote this in about two hours. I got it from a post I saw my prompt was ‘eating you out as a friend’ Printessa means princess. 

(Y/N) fell onto one of the couches in Avenger tower with a satisfying thump. Her head hit the pillow perfectly and she wanted nothing more than to let herself drift to sleep on the couch after a long day. A migraine soon began to kick in. When her body relaxed, the soreness of her muscles became apparent. She let out a groan rolling to her side. This week was really kicking her ass. Fury had the spy looking high and low for a very specific Hydra agent, and he was extremely elusive. She was beginning to expect he knew he was being spied on by how well he evaded her. The stress was hitting hard this time around.

               “Tough day?” Came the beautiful Russian accent of the most attractive man in the Avengers. Captain American be damned, Pietro Maximoff won (Y/N)’s heart any day of the week.

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Nesta decides to return to Illyrian after Cassian promises her that he will help her train and that they keep professional during their sessions. Nesta doesn’t want things to get personal with Cassian, but Cassian wants to understand the woman that has ensnared his thoughts.

Modern Nessian: Chapter 5

 Nesta was running late. The restaurant’s large lunch crowd today made it impossible for Nesta to abandon her fellow staff. It was getting to be that time of year when more company groups visited Prythian, which meant more business at the restaurant.  And ultimately the start of living hell at work.

When Nesta was finally able to leave work she was 40 minutes behind schedule. She clocked out and grabbed her bag from the staff room. Pulling out her gym shorts, t-shirt and tennis shoes, she swapped them for her work uniform. A sigh escaped her body as she pulled off the low inch heels that had been driving her insane. After shoving her uniform in the bag Nesta walked swiftly out the restaurant through the back exit and to the subway station. If she was lucky she could catch the next train on the northern line.

She almost missed the train, but a woman was nice enough to hold the door as Nesta rushed inside. There were no empty seats so Nesta had to hold onto one of the long handrails as the subway cars jolted forward.

Her phone read 4:40 p.m. and it was evident that she was going to be late.

Cassian will probably be ranting about it once I get there.

Nesta was still a few minutes late after jogging from the station. If she had gotten here by 5:10 like she did last time then she could have already stretched and been ready by 5:30 p.m. Now she was walking into the gym at 5:35 p.m. Her breaths came out in little pants to suck air back into her lungs after her jog.

“I thought you had chickened out on me Nesta,” Cassian leaned against the welcome desk. He wore blue shorts and a black sleeveless compression shirt. All which showed off his muscles and darkly tanned skin. Nesta also noticed something she had never seen before. Black inked tattoo lines interwove each other on his shoulders and disappeared under the tight black fabric of his shirt.

Nesta averted her stare not wanting to seem too curious about the markings. “I told you I would come train wouldn’t I?” She walked toward the locker room and Cassian followed.

“Last I checked we were supposed to start at 5:30,” Cassian said. “And now we are running 30 minutes behind schedule.”

“I’m here now aren’t I?” Nesta shoved her bag on an open bench.

“Considering you’re all into manners I would have thought you would be more punctual Nesta.” Cassian opened a free locker allowing Nesta to put her bag inside. She rolled her eyes at his punctuality comment, but didn’t reply. She couldn’t help it if work was hectic today and she couldn’t leave on time. He handed her the locker key hanging from a thin lanyard. “That is your copy, but if you lose it you’ll have to pay for another. If you misplace your key we also have a spare at the front desk to use.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Nesta shoved the lanyard in her shorts pocket not wanting to wear it during their training in case it got caught on something.

“Now remember how I told you I would train you vigorously?” Cassian’s smirking expression didn’t bode well for Nesta. “You’re going to see what happens to students when they arrive late.”

Nesta had to run sprints across the room for twenty minutes followed by box jump squats that had Nesta’s leg muscles burning in pain. She never claimed to be an expert in physical exercise, but she managed to keep up some sense of shape by running around constantly on campus to class, walking around Prythian and also busting herself at work.

Despite the pain in her legs she kept going. She leapt up onto the wooden box that almost reached her waist. If she could manage walking around in heels for seven-hour shifts while carrying dishes of food to customers who tested her patience, then she could handle this.

Nesta could see Cassian in the midst of his own routine that involved lifting dumbbells in each hand. It was difficult to watch him though as she had to focus her attention on not tripping over the step each time she jumped onto it.

Any moment she did spare him was quick as she kept looking back to those tattoos that would move with the muscles on his shoulders. The dark ink had a mixture of thick and thin lines that curved and coiled in an intricate design. It looked almost tribal from what Nesta could tell from fleeting glances.

Cassian continued to lift the dumbbells acting as though he didn’t notice Nesta’s eyes peering at him. Let her believe he didn’t catch her from the corner of his eye. When she did finally turn away her attention he would sneak in his own.

It was easier to keep an eye on her as he simply lifted the dumbbells. They didn’t require much effort, which was fine with Cassian since his focus was on the woman jumping nearby.

 He wasn’t going to let her off easy with her tardiness. He thought for sure she had gone back on her word and decided against returning to the gym. Returning to him. Worry settled in at the thought of Nesta abandoning her will to learn self-defense.

Luckily she finally showed up, but that still didn’t mean he couldn’t get a message across. Tardiness meant punishment. Every student was dealt with some sort of punishment if they disobeyed the rules of the gym. And Cassian was known for enforcing them. If he didn’t then others would see him as a pushover.

Years ago other trainers tried to force him into submission, because they saw him as an easy target. Now he was the best trainer here and had earned the respect of most of his peers and students. Of course Devlon and a few others were the exceptions.

He just hoped Nesta wouldn’t be one of those that hated his guts after she finished her jumping squats.

That’s if she doesn’t hate me already. And from the way her eyes were rigid and accompanied by a firm frown, Cassian wondered if they had went beyond the point of hate.

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SHAMY fanfic for The Fluff Crawlspace. Ep 9x24: The aftermath.

(This is the fluffiest piece of fluff in the history of fluffstuff. It’s also my first ever fic, so be kind. Enjoy, shippers.)

It was late, after midnight, and she was so, so tired, but Amy switched on the iron, and carefully laid out the yards of purple satin on the ironing board. The dress had been dry cleaned, but had gotten a little crushed in the car ride home, and she wanted it to be perfect for Penny and Leonard’s re-wedding tomorrow. Although Penny hadn’t made her the official maid-of-honour, she knew this was her chance. Amy Farrah Fowler had an inner princess that had been stifled long enough; she was NOT going to settle for less than perfection.

While she waited for the iron to warm up, Amy fiddled with the other things she had laid out - heels, stockings, bracelet… Her hand hovered over the velvet case that held her prized possession; the tiara that Sheldon had given her as an apology gift. She smiled, remembering, but couldn’t bring herself to open the case. It was Penny’s day, and some gut instinct told Amy that the tiara would be too much, like trying to upstage Penny in some way. Not that it was possible to upstage Penny. Amy had always felt like a bit of a wallflower next to her gorgeous friend, who didn’t need tiaras or satin to look beautiful. All the same, Amy decided - no tiara.

She was pleased that, for now at least, she had her feelings of jealousy tightly under control. When Penny had announced their plans to hold a second wedding, Amy had tried not to think about the fact that her own wedding was likely years away. Sheldon had shown no sign that he was planning a proposal - other than that odd business with the ring. Maybe Meemaw had gotten to him after all. There had been no talk about it, and Amy was quite sure that had Sheldon started drafting a contract for their engagement, she would have been able to tell. He always had that odd, energetic glow when he had been working on a contract. Sheldon had seemed so comfortingly, irritatingly normal lately, that Amy knew it simply wasn’t on his mind.

As she often did when distracted and thinking of Sheldon, Amy subconsciously reached for the kettle and switched it on. Immediately, her whole apartment plunged into darkness.

‘What the..?!’

She sighed and rolled her eyes. Most probably she had blown a fuse, overloading the circuit by trying to run iron and kettle simultaneously. Amy was annoyed at herself for not thinking of it. For someone with a PhD, I can be pretty stupid, she thought wryly. That’s what thinking about boys will do to you. Now she would have to go out and find the fuse box in the hall. Amy fumbled in the cupboard for a flashlight, and not finding one, groped her way around the kitchen towards the door, bumping into the ironing board as she went. ‘Ouch! Damn it!’.

She slid the chain across and unbolted the door lock. As the door swung towards her, Amy shrieked and leaped back. Someone was standing right outside her door! The light from the hall silhouetted a tall figure, poised with one arm up, ready to strike. Amy yelled and stumbled backwards, grabbing for something, anything she could use to defend herself against the intruder. Even as she yelled, she knew it was late - likely no-one would hear her cries. She was on her own. Her legs crashed into the table by the couch, and she toppled over, landing ungracefully on the floor. Amy lay still and screwed her eyes shut, hoping that it was too dark for the intruder to find her. For a long moment, all was silent. Then came a tentative sound…

Knock-knock-knock. “Amy-in-the-dark?”
Knock-knock-knock. “Amy-in-the-da—“

“SHELDON!!” Amy exclaimed, struggling to her feet. “What are you doing here?!!”

There was a pause. After a moment, another set of three knocks, followed by a sheepish, “Amy-in-the-dark?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Amy was so relieved to not be fighting off a burglar, even the unnecessary knocking didn’t bother her. She limped towards Sheldon and threw both arms around him. Sheldon returned the hug, and then pushed her back by the shoulders. “What are you doing with all the lights off, Amy? Are you playing a game?”

Her eyes rapidly adjusting to the dim light, Amy smiled patiently up at Sheldon, his face a mask of confusion and curiosity. “Negative. I blew a fuse, and was on my way out to reset it. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be outside my door,” she gestured tiredly.

“Oh.” Sheldon brightened. “Well, I can help you with that.” He bounced back out to the hallway, locating the fuse box. “You know, you shouldn’t run so many appliances at once, it overloads the circuit and trips the fuse.” Amy rolled her eyes at his back, but let it go.

“Thanks, Sheldon.” She rubbed her bruised calf muscles. “You still didn’t answer my question. Why are you at my house in the middle of the night?” Belatedly, she noticed the small overnight bag that he had carried, lying where he had dropped it just inside the door. “Is everything okay?” She felt a wave of concern - Sheldon hated being out after midnight.

“I’m not sure,” Sheldon replied, as the lights flickered back on and the apartment came back to life. He stood in the doorway, shoulders squared. “I need you to drive me to the Weston Hotel. Then I’ll be able to tell you.”

“Sheldon, whats going on?”. Belatedly, Amy realised that the Weston was where his mother was staying. And Leonard’s father. The events of the evening’s dinner party came back to her, and she realised where this was heading. “Oh…”

“I can’t get hold of my mother. I just need to make sure that she made it back to the hotel, make sure that she is safe, and make very sure that she is fast asleep in her own room in a bed all by herself. It shouldn’t take long. Be a peach and grab your keys, hmm?” He raised his eyebrows, hopeful.

“Sheldon.” Amy sighed. This was not going to end well. “We are not going to the Weston. It’s after midnight. We have the wedding tomorrow. Your mom is fine. If she is with Leonard’s dad, there’s nothing you can do about it. You just have to accept it.”

Sheldon stared at her, seeming shocked at her disobedience. “Amy! This is serious! It’s important! Clearly it’s very important - how often do I ask you to drive me somewhere in the middle of the night? Hmm?”

“More often than you’d think,” Amy retorted with an edge of sarcasm.

“Well, I can’t sleep while I’m wondering about my mom. C’mon, lets go.” Sheldon held the door open for her.

“No, Sheldon. I’m not taking you. If you won’t listen to me, then get a taxi. But your mom has a right to her privacy. Even YOU have to respect that. Case closed.” Amy turned and walked over to the kitchen. She needed to finish ironing the dress and then get some beauty sleep. Sheldon could deal with this without her.

Sheldon hovered by the door for a moment. Then, realising Amy was not going to be swayed by his arguing, he stepped inside and closed it gently. He reached down to pick up his overnight bag again, and carried it over to Amy’s couch. Amy watched this with a good measure of interest, before glancing down at the ironing board. The iron had fallen over when she had bumped into it in the dark, and as she lifted it up, she moaned in horror.

The beautiful purple satin was marred by a huge dark burn, the shape of the iron. Her dress, her perfect princess gown, was spoiled. Amy couldn’t help it, her eyes filled with tears and she let out a sob, quickly followed by another.

“What’s wrong?” Sheldon looked up at her. “Amy? Are you upset about my mother, too?” he asked hopefully.

“My dress! It’s ruined!!!” Amy held the dress up to her chest. The burn mark was three inches from the bottom hem, and completely obvious. She could never wear it now.

Sheldon casually regarded the dress. “Oh. Is that all? Well, that’s not so bad.” He made no move towards her.

She glared at Sheldon through tears. “You know Sheldon, just ONCE, just ONE TIME in your life, it would be nice if you could think about someone other than yourself!!! I know you’re upset about your mother. I get it. But you are NOT the only person in the world with problems, with FEELINGS!” Sheldon’s eyes widened. But Amy wasn’t finished. The tiredness, the frustration with Sheldon, the envy of Penny and her wedding all welled up and spilled over. She knew she was being horrible, and she didn’t care. “I’ve had it! If you can’t show the slightest bit of empathy, after all this time, then just go. I don’t want to see you. GO!”

“But, Amy-“ Sheldon stepped towards her; Amy couldn’t bear it. “NO!” she roared, throwing the armful of ruined satin at Sheldon. She whirled around, stormed to her bedroom, and - refusing to think about the last time Sheldon had been in here - she slammed the door shut.

All was quiet. After a few moments, Amy heard Sheldon’s footsteps moving around the kitchen. Then she heard the jangle of keys - HER keys, he actually had the hide to think he could just drive off to the hotel in HER car!! - and then the gentle clunk of the front door closing behind him. Amy rolled over on the bed and let tears roll down her face until she drifted off to sleep.

* * * *

Her dreams were full of strange and awful things - apartment intruders and strange whirring noises, and weddings and yelling and acres of purple satin that she could never quite get her hands on. When she woke, the sun streaming under her curtain, she was surprised to realise it was because her bedroom door was being pushed open. Amy brushed her hair back from her face with her palms, and sat up quickly. Sheldon poked his head around the door. “Amy? Oh good, you’re awake. I made you a beverage.”

Amy rubbed her eyes. “Uh, thanks?” she offered, as Sheldon walked into her room carrying a cup of tea, made just how she liked it. She accepted the cup.

“Drink up,” Sheldon commanded. “We have to start getting ready for the wedding.” He backed out of the room.

Amy felt stupidly self conscious; Sheldon had seen her a lot more disheveled than this before, but she knew she must look dreadful. Besides, had he not listened to a word she said last night? How can he think that I am going to show up to the wedding? She felt a wave of anger surging up again, and stalked out to the lounge to make her displeasure known.

The sight that greeted her stopped her right in her tracks. Sheldon - shirtless - looked startled that she had interrupted him in the middle of changing, and reached quickly for his tuxedo shirt. But that wasn’t what had her attention. The purple dress - now several inches shorter, and hemmed to perfection - was hanging up on the back of the door. An ancient sewing machine was set up on her table, and had clearly been in recent use. The burned scrap of fabric lay on the floor between where Sheldon and Amy stood. Absently, she reached down to pick it up.

“Sheldon…” Amy was speechless. She fumbled for her words. “What did you do?” Belatedly, she noticed his bloodshot eyes and wary expression. He looked as though he had been awake all night.

Sheldon ducked his head awkwardly, and waved at the sewing machine. “It was Meemaw’s. She taught me to sew.” He paused, uncertain. “I’m sorry I took your car without asking. I had to go get it from my storage shed. I didn’t drive faster than ten miles per hour…” He shuddered at the memory - Amy knew Sheldon found all driving traumatic.

Amy walked slowly over to the dress, as Sheldon shrugged into his shirt. “Sheldon, this is amazing. It looks…perfect.” Amy meant it. Somehow, the purple satin gown was even better, although quite daring for her. It looked as though it would barely cover her knees. “You stayed up all night to fix it.” It was a statement, not a question.

Sheldon looked over his shoulder at her. “Mmmm. I couldn’t sleep anyway, not with thinking about my mom and, well.” He stopped, looking forlorn. Amy marched over to him and grabbed him from behind, slinging her arms about his waist. She pressed her cheek to his back.

“I’m sorry, Sheldon.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t care, Amy.” Sheldon looked frustrated with himself. “I knew it would be simple to fix the dress. I’m sorry for … well. I’m sorry for being the way I am. I don’t like it when you’re sad.” He swivelled in her arms and returned the hug. Amy gazed up at him, and he touched his lips quickly to her forehead. Amy felt her knees wobble.

Sheldon dropped his arms and stepped back. “Time to get dressed. We don’t want to be late. Besides, I may need to stop on the way to storm the Weston and free my mother from a possible hostage situation.” He grimaced.

Amy laughed. Sheldon tossed his head at her, and threw up his hands.


Amy stepped out of the bedroom wearing the purple satin gown. Her legs bare, she felt self-conscious, but not altogether awkward. In fact, she felt… pretty. Sheldon looked up from his spot on the couch, and stood, wiping his palms on his tuxedo trousers.

“Help me with the zipper?” Amy’s voice sounded shakier than she intended, as she turned her back to him.

Sheldon swallowed, and gently swept Amy’s dark hair aside to fasten the zip. “There,” he said softly.

She did a playful pirouette for him. “How does it look?”

Sheldon looked her up and down, his gaze coming to rest somewhere around her knees. “I could have taken an extra inch off, and evened the back a little more, but the stitching is passable.”

Amy rolled her eyes again. This time, Sheldon caught on.

“You look beautiful,” he told her, with certainty, and sparkles erupted somewhere inside Amy’s chest. “I’ll have to keep a close eye on you today.” He looked solemn, but a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth.

“Did you just wink at me, Sheldon Cooper?” Amy couldn’t help the grin that burst across her face.

“I guess we’ll never know,” replied Sheldon, with an answering grin. Sheldon? Flirting?

“Well, you look pretty good yourself.” Sheldon, dressed smartly in his tuxedo, did cut a fine figure. Once again, Amy counted her blessings. I love you, too. “Hey. You had all your stuff with you?” Amy realised that in all her misery about the dress, she had never asked about the overnight bag. Sheldon had never stayed the night before. “You weren’t planning to go home last night?”

Sheldon looked sheepish. “I didn’t know what to do, so I came here. You see - “ Sheldon stopped and huffed a sigh, as if unsure how to go on. Amy waited. “Well, after we got home from the restaurant last night, Leonard and Penny and I stayed up talking a while. They decided to each sleep in their own rooms, as per the custom of not seeing one’s intended spouse on the morning of the wedding.” After seeing Amy’s nod - she knew the custom to which he referred - he went on. “I went to bed, but before I could get to sleep, Leonard’s mother arrived, and uh, she was suffering the effects of intoxication. Oh boy, that woman is persistent when fuelled by ethanol.”

Amy’s eyebrows shot up. “Sheldon! What did you do?”

Sheldon was pragmatic. “Nothing impolite. She wanted comfort, I declined to give it to her. But once she had actually gotten into my bed, there didn’t seem like much point in trying to get her back out of it. So I left, instead. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

Amy reached for his hand. “No, I wouldn’t mind.” She grinned up at him. “You can stay over whenever you like,” she added suggestively.

“That’s all very well, but someone has to keep an eye out for Leonard. He gets lonely without me. Besides, if I’m away too long, he gets very relaxed about the bathroom schedule, which can’t be a good thing for any of us.”

Amy sighed ruefully and reached for her purse. “Should we go, then?”

“Wait.” Sheldon stopped. He picked up the black velvet case from the table, and held it out to her. “Aren’t you going to wear your tiara?”.

Amy shook her head.

“But you wore it when Bernadette and Howard got married.”

“You remember that?” Amy was touched.

“Of course. I have an-“

“…eidetic memory. I know,” she finished for him. “But I don’t think a tiara is socially acceptable headwear for a maid-of-honour. I think they’re more of a bridal thing.”

“Oh,” Sheldon said. "Good idea. Save it, and you can wear it when we get married, instead.”

“Sheldon…” Amy was astonished at his casual mention of matrimony. She beamed as Sheldon held the door open for her.

“By the way,” added Sheldon darkly, "Leonard’s father will NOT be invited to our wedding.”

Amy laughed as she closed the door on Apartment 314. As she followed Sheldon down the hall, she noticed a scrap of purple fabric poking out of the pocket of his pants. She gave it a gentle tug, and out came the slice of fabric with the burn mark. Sheldon whirled around and whipped it out of her hand.

"Sorry, but I need that.” Sheldon tucked the scrap safely into his pocket.

Amy smiled. “You’re going to run out of room in that shed, you know.”

“I don’t care. I’m keeping it because it reminds me of you.” Sheldon held out a hand, and Amy took it, her face bright with possibility.

SWIMSUIT CRACK @farnese-de-vandimion cont. from here!

“Kee-hee!” Soleil giggled at Farnese’s embarrassment, blushing herself. “Like whatcha see, Farny?”

Soleil turned her back to Farnese so that she was facing the water, and then bent over, stretching so that she touched her toes with her fingertips, giving Farnese a nice view of her rear as her shorts hiked themselves up it. After she felt Farnese was sure to have taken notice, she straightened up and raised her arms above and behind her head, holding one arm with the other in a big stretch as she twisted her waist one way, and then the other, showing off her muscular figure. Then she began doing lunges, showing off her toned calf and thigh muscles, making a big show of doing so. Finally, she rolled her shoulders and dove into the water.

Soleil surfaced and turned to face her commander. “Come on in Farny, the water’s fine!”

thievinghippo  asked:

Caught in a storm for Garrus and Olivia, please!

Thank you for the prompt! Here is some snowed in shakarian fluff! 

Nirvana for Shepard would be a refreshing drink in her hand filled to the brim with tiny umbrellas on some remote, untouched beach with Garrus at her side. Not on some icy shithole planet, named Nirvana.  

The planet, once under Alliance authority, had now become one the many fueling stations for the growing pirating parties of the Exodus Cluster.  And it had become her job to scout out the once automated ice cracking facility and report back on measures to take it back.  

Instead of successfully getting intel on the base, a newly reinstated model of the Mako was now head first into a snowbank from the thousands of meters it fell from beneath the facility, with Shepard at the wheel.  

Shepard’s side pressed into Garrus’ with her left leg bent awkwardly to the side. Pain shot up from the leg, causing her to bite back a cry.  Her leg may have been successfully replaced almost two years ago with cloned tissue, put it still ached and throbbed when put to the test. The cold weather that seeped into her skin wasn’t helping matters either.  

She pushed herself up from Garrus as panicking alarms called out at her. Thrashing winds and sleeted ice crashed against the Mako as they tried to gain their composer.  The view from the windows was completely blocked and filled with snow.  

“Well, shit.”  Shepard cursed as she hit the boosters, but it was not enough to free them from the snow bank.  Shepard pushed back her cropped hair and let out a frustrated sigh. “I hate the Mako.”

“Oh, but how I’ve missed it.” Garrus coughed out as he almost routinely began shutting off and powering down the needed systems.  “Shields are fried, cannon and machine gun are unresponsive, and I think we may have lost the back axis about a third of the way through the fall.”

He reached out to pull the onboard computer towards him and looked over the damages.  “This is actually quite impressive, if she were on fire, I’d say this would be your best work yet, Shepard.”

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[Cool Mermaid Title Here]

Author Note: So the tag looked starved of actual SasuHina.


Sasuke narrowed his eyes and in pure curiosity asked, “And these are…”

Hinata twisted with laughter as the merman took ahold of her feet. “T-toes! Their called toes!” She yanked back.

Sasuke stared at them and then back at her. “And they make you laugh?”

Hinata took a calming breath before dipping her feet back in the water. “Well, I r-really don’t know why they are so ticklish.”

He hummed and grabbed her ankle, then calf muscle and traced her kneecap. “You are created…oddly, you know?”

Hinata smiled and tucked a strand of navy behind her ear. “I could say the same.”

Sasuke pushed himself up until his arms comfortably crossed on the wooden port. Hinata watched him with amazement. If it weren’t for the bluish-black scales on his forearm, he could pass for human at her angle.

“Sasuke?” Hinata started slowly. “W-won’t you get in trouble with your people for being here?”

“As if I care,” he told her honestly. “I am not apart their a school of little fishes.”

Hinata gasped playfully. “Was that a fish joke?”

He smirked. “It’s only alright if I do it,” the merman moved over until his arms were crossed over Hinata’s lap. “I’m drying out now. Join me.”

Before Hinata could say a word, he pulled her in the water. When Hinata broke the surface, inky navy hair clung to her face. “S-Sasuke, it’s f-freezing!” Her teeth chattered.

He swam around her in slow circles. “Your hair reminds me of octopus ink.”

Hinata splashed water in his face. “I’m…I’m pret-pretty sure that’s a-an insult on l-land or in…the…the sea.”

That was true. He frowned at the sight of her still attempting to warm her arms up. “Why aren’t you adapting to the temperature?”

Opal eyes closed. “I…its n-not that simple.”

He took her shoulders. “I don’t understand. Stop the shaking.” She couldn’t help but laugh. Sasuke pulled back a bit. “What is so funny?”

“You’re c-cold too.”

Sasuke panicked and put the girl back on the port. She trembled but sighed softly. “I’ve replaced you. End the shaking.”

“I’m fine,” she told him.

“You are not fine. I hurt you… I apologize.”

Hinata rung out her hair and peeled off her jacket. She was less conscious about showing her body concerning Sasuke’s people didn’t have “private parts.”

“I’m f-fine, I promise. I’ll warm up,” she looked towards the peeking sun. “Don’t worry.”

“How do your people gather warmth when the sun has set and there is no fire?”

Hinata really loved the way Sasuke spoke. He seemed so interested in land. She motioned to the jacket. “Wrap up,” she extended her hands to him. “Oh and hold hands or hug…s-some times…” Her cheeks glowed and he didn’t miss it.

“Are you embarrassed? What else?”

Hinata cupped her hands together. “Sometimes we, um, kiss.”

“Hn,” he floated on his back for a bit. An onyx tail lifted out the water. “Seems barbaric, no?”

“No.” Hinata countered.

“No?” He swam forward. “To keep you with me in the sea all I would have to do is kiss you?”

Her face turned bright red. “S-Sasuke, it d-doesn’t work that way!”

The Uchiha’s face soured. “Pity.” He pondered for a bit. “Is kissing that symbolic to you?”

Hinata pushed her dripping bangs away and nodded shyly. “I m-mean, to some people…it can be friendly, r-romantic, to say hello or goodbye.”

Sasuke shook his head. “Humans are very strange,” he sighed and looked towards the sky. The clouds were moving out of the Sun’s way. He was relieved. Hinata’s strength came from the sun apparently.

“Hinata!” Her sister’s voice echoed behind her. Sasuke ducked under water as the younger sister approached. “Hinata, why are you soaking?”

Hinata laughed nervously. “I was a little hot so…”

Hanabi rolled her eyes. “Weird. Anyway, father wants you to be at least on time for dinner.”

“Yes. I will.”

Hanabi huffed. “Alright, don’t just have your feet in the water like that. Something could grab you.”

Hinata nodded. “Of course.” She waved as Hanabi ran back. Hinata sighed as Sasuke rose. “I’m sorry…I h-have to go.”

“Then you’re saying goodbye?” She nodded and squeaked when the merman pushed himself out the water and cupped her cheeks. “Until next time,” he placed a kiss on her chin.

Her chin.

Hinata’s mouth gaped a bit as Sasuke gave a curt nod and began to swim home. The Hyuuga stood and grabbed her jacket. “No, Sasuke, you’re so strange.”


Sasuke swam faster in the water and clasped his head. “You fool,” he said to himself. “Her chin? She’ll think that’s a Merfolk thing.” He was beyond flustered.

Of all the fish in the sea, he floated into love with a human.

anonymous asked:

What if the kiss in 3x13 (knockdown) had escalated into more?

She’s sucking on his tongue and using every ounce of diminishing willpower that she has not to grind down on the thigh pushed between her legs. The guard by the door isn’t moving, still glancing to them from time to time, but she saw him waver when she and Castle were kissing, an eyebrow of intrigue arching, and she thinks if they can just gain a little more attention, go a little too far-

“Kate,” he gasps, groaning when she abandons his mouth and turns to his neck, laving her tongue over the pulsing skin beneath his jaw. She hates to admit it, but god does he taste good, he feels good, better than she ever imagined. “Gotta stop.”

“No,” she growls, nipping hard at his jugular. They’re up against the nearest wall she could push him into and she gasps when he spins her, presses her flat against the chilled concrete and grunts when her spine automatically arches for him. “We’re close. He’ll stop us soon.”

“He better,” Castle warns her as he leans in again, punishing the skin of her neck just as she did to his, marking the column of her throat with the heat of his tongue and the drag of his teeth, and she can’t help but squirm and mewl against the drugging sensation of his mouth on her. 

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I own nothing except this prompt. This was always meant as a challenge to myself to see if I could commit to writing a story that could be somewhat consistent. I’m not a fic writer and english isn’t my first language; I also didn’t have a beta besides my dear good friends letting me know I got a tense wrong and to change this or that, so please forgive any mistakes. 

Prompt: “You got my name on ’share a coke with…’”

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First Time Fumbling

Pairing: Ten x Rose AU     |     Rating: Explicit
Summary: 18-year-old John is completely head over heels in love with his girlfriend Rose Tyler, and after three months together John is wondering how to take the next step with her.
A/N: Prompted by @lastbluetardis​. This one’s NSFW because the second half of the prompt amused me greatly. Also want to note that Ten is apologetically ridiculous in this.  

Part of my Fourteen Days of Ficlets special. Tune in every day between July 4 - 17 at 6:30 pm EST. Find out what will be posted here.

“So how’re things working out between you and Rose lately?” Jack asked while smashing buttons on his controller, roaring with pride when he overtook John in Mario Kart.

“Brilliant! Aww Jack she’s so perfect. Did I tell you she aced her A-levels?”

He didn’t bloody care about the eye roll he received. Rose had worked hard, and she was proud of herself. So of course John doubly proud of her, and happy for her. Anything for her smile.

“Yes, only about a dozen times.” How was last night?” He nudged John’s shoulder. “Anything?”

“Any what?”

Jack’s kart wrecked and John cheered like a toddler (and as a result wrecked his kart too, oh well).

“You know.” Jack cleared his throat. “Get lucky yet?”

John felt the blood retreat from his face as Jack hit him with a koopa shell, crashing his kart, again. “What?” he croaked but recovered quickly. “I’m always lucky with Rose. I dunno what I’d do without her, Jack. She’s my whole world. Being with her, holding her hand, it’s like the whole universe is spinning around us.”

“Ugh, stop stop you’ll give me cavities. I meant sex, John. Can’t keep your virginity forever.”

Aghast, “I’m only 18!”

They both set their controllers down at the end of the race with Jack as the winner. “With a girlfriend that’s crazy about you.”

“Doesn’t mean we’re ready. And I don’t know what I’m doing or even how to approach that with her.”

“But you want to.”

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