his nose is glorious

3

96-line’s drawings + things they’ve said about Jun (in order from left-right).

Hoshi: Junhui is really a precious person~
Woozi: Junhui really is very kind, a person worth liking.
Wonwoo: Junnie is a very nice person, he’s just a little silly.

SUIT & TIE || dessert

◦ pairing: reader x taehyung

◦ rating: m

◦ word count: 1.9k

a/n: I am just really sad cause Kim Taehyung is not in my life to do these things…I don’t even have a proper comment for this. IM JUST REALLY UPSET ATM OKAY. (anyways i hope you love it)

jungkook | taehyung | jimin | namjoon | hoseok | yoongi | jin

suit & tie || m a s t e r l i s t


“You just wore that to tease me,” his voice scratched the back of his throat, coming out in a faint growl, but the wide grin spread across his face was anything but menacing. His eyes shrunk into crescent moons and his boxy smile smile pressed against your neck, his warm breath tickling the skin as he laughed and carefully placed light butterfly kisses. Your fingers were lost in the softness of his hair, stroking the base of his neck as he held you gently against the door. The feeling of his body up against yours like this was pure bliss.

“To be fair,” you started, but his lips were against yours again. Your fingers slipped under the fabric of his blazer, slipping it off down his arms and throwing it haphazardly towards the nearest piece of furniture. “I didn’t think it would work so fast,” you spoke between giggling kisses. You could hardly maintain a steady breath. You reached for his buckle, pulling his belt out of the loops of his pants and dropping it to the floor with a light clang. “We even skipped dessert!”

A breathy gasp left you as his fingers pulled the zipper down your back. The light touch of his skin trailed the cold metal grazing against your bare back. The mood changed instantly. You pinched your lips over one another, as though the damage had not already been done. Taehyung pulled back, cocking an eyebrow, his ego inflated. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Oh trust me, we’re not skipping dessert.”

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dipluxian-overlord  asked:

Hello! I wanted to say I love Buttons' design so much, not only because he looks like Tim Roth, who I love, but also because of that glorious nose of his. I have a character who sports a spectacular schnozz as well, but I was wondering--how in the world do you go about drawing a beak like that from the front? For the life of me I can't figure it out, and it haunts and vexes me.

Thank you, I’m so happy that people appreciate The Nose! Your profile pic adds a lot to this ask too :D
I used to struggle a lot with human nose stylization in general and it took me a good 3 years of continuous changes in my style to arrive to a point where I feel more or less comfortable with how I draw them. The top 2 here are what I usually draw for Butts at a head-on angle:

His nose is not as hooked as Tim Roth’s. I draw it either straight or with a slight curve. This is what it looks in-game (good refs!):

As a general rule I like to define it using as few lines as possible. I’d like to think that everyone goes through the “over-detailed nose phase” at one point or another. Either that or the no-nose anime nonsense where you only put down shadows or maybe a comma-size line :D Just gotta find that sweet spot in the middle and you’re set 👌

The Price 10/?

Summary: Killian and the Swan perform the location spell to find Liam.

Chapter List: One/Two/Three/Four/Five/Six/Seven/Eight/Nine

ao3


Chapter Ten

He blinks his eyes open blearily, confusion setting in as he feels the press of another’s skin against his own. The canopy above his head is deep red, the curtains of the four poster set in burgundy embroidered brocade. Ashen white wood makes up the headboard and the posts. He stares at it for a moment, trying to place the type of tree that might create such a strange thing, but it is otherworldly, as though it had once been normal, until the life had been sapped from it.

The curtains are drawn close around him, so all he knows is that he is not, currently, in his own bed, in his own part of the castle.

His strange bedfellow shifts, and he tilts his head to look at her. 

Pale blonde hair tumbles over the pillow beside him, hanging in a veil over a familiar face, and the thin coverlet barely keeps her modest as she rolls from stomach to back, green eyes flickering open to hold his gaze. 

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A Little Slow On Love

title : A Little Slow On Love

with : Hyungwon (Monsta X)

summary : Seeing as you’re failing your classes, your Mother hires you a private tutor. (fluff)

(Part 2 x |Part 3 x |Part 4 x |Part 5 x |Part 6 x)

Originally posted by kittyminhyuk

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anonymous asked:

10 reasons why you love your bias ~

10 reasons why I love Mr Jung Daehyun *^*

  1. His heart! He genuinely loves and cares for fans and the members. He does so much for us ;^; 
  2. His voice is silky smooth honey sent from the gods! It’s heaven to me, I float on a cloud (no joke his voice calms me down when I’m feeling panicky)
  3. His laugh, cutest giggle in the universe! His big ol smile when he’s happy and his cheeks! KITTYDAE! Lights up my world
  4. The wrinkles on his face when he hits a high note! #nosewrinkle
  5. The way he’s flirty/cheesy/greasy with fans. Treats us like we’re the loves of his life
  6. HIS TATTOOS!! the ‘hold’ tattoo for babyz and the ‘BAP’ tattoo because the group mean so much to him ;o; I had a dream of what it looks like, imma draw it
  7. the passion that emanates from him when he sings, the emotion he puts into his voice! He has so much charm and charisma on stage. I CRY
  8. He’s so beautiful. The boy is a true visual. He can pull off any hair style, his eyebrows are lovely caterpillars, he’s mr sparkly eyes *^*, I LOVE HIS NOSE, his lips are so glorious holy hell, I really like his jawline?? His tummy is so cuuute I wanna blow raspberries on it, he has the cutest uneven daebutt
  9. When he does aegyo and cringes at himself lol. lashglashdg
  10. The way he’s a soft floofy prince that often looks so cozy and huggable that I wanna tackle him with cuddles! it’s too much for my heart ;o;

I love everything about him. He means so much to me.
He was a massive source of happiness when I needed it the most.
He’ll forever have a place in my heart for that.
I genuinely love him very much.

Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 89: Asking Permission

Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 89: Asking Permission

Pairing:  Captain Swan (and Captain Charming)

Rating: T

Summary:  A series of unrelated, fluffy one shots featuring  Killian Jones and Emma Swan and the relationship that makes us all  swoon. Will contain both canon and AU stories. My contribution to  Operation Rainbow Kisses and Unicorn Stickers (aka, my attempt to drown  out the season 4 finale angst with ridiculous levels of fluff.)

Missed the beginning? ( 1) ( 2) ( 3) ( 4) ( 5) (6) ( 7) ( 8) ( 9) ( 10) ( 11) ( 12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31) (32) (33) (34) (35) (36) (37) (38) (39) (40) (41) (42) (43) (44) (45) (46) (47) (48) (49) (50) (51) (52) (53) (54) (55) (56) (57) (58) (59) (60) (61) (62) (63) (64) (65) (66) (67) (68) (69) (70) (71) (72) (73) (74) (75) (76) (77) (78) (79) (80) (81) (82) (83) (84) (85) (86) (87) (88)

Tagging a few people who may be interested: @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26@fleurreads @doracianstormrose @mermaidswans @bethacaciakay @ultraluckycatnd@allfangirlallthetime @effulgentcolors, @ilovemesomekillianjones @kat2609 @brooke-to-broch@missgymgirl @hellomommanerd @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich@jennjenn615 @laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 @lapi-lazuli@nickillian @a-rose-for-a-savior @in-spirational @gillie @manic-pixiefangirl @britishguyslover@ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst @nofeels @holmes-a-holic @kmomof4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Asking Permission

CS Genre: Future fic (follows Making a House a Home)

Killian woke with a smile on his lips, as he seemed to do nearly every morning anymore.  The sun shone brightly into their bedroom window, the smell of the sea heavy on the breeze that gently ruffled the gossamer curtains that hung before the slightly open French doors leading out to their balcony.  In the distance, Killian could hear the crash of the sea against the shore.  His bed was soft and warm, and he’d gotten an exemplary night’s sleep.

But nothing filled him with such joy as waking to Emma Swan in his arms, her fragrant, glorious hair tickling his nose, her soft body pressed against his, a gentle smile on her face.  It was overwhelming sometimes to remember that she was his, that she loved him, that she chose him as strongly and deeply as he chose her.

Life was good.  Life was near to perfect, and Killian had never been happier in his life.

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Sansukh Re-read Ch.5

“We are going home!” she cried in her ringing voice of diamond and mithril, and a mighty cheer rose up from every throat. Turning, Dís began to walk away from the worked-out mines and the crumbling halls of Belegost that had sheltered them in their poverty, and raised her face to the East. She did not look back. Wagons rumbled along in her wake as she began to march.

As much as I love Dain, can we take a minute to appreciate the awesomeness of Queen Dís, if she had taken the throne? It makes sense why she wouldn’t want to, that throne had cost the lives of her sons and brother, but it’s something I thought of after I finished reading The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings the first time. King Dain is just as awesome, though.

His reunion with Mizim, Gimrís and Gimli upon his arrival at Ered Luin had been nothing short of spectacular. Glóin had wrapped himself around his wife and held onto her tightly, burying his face in her pale hair. She put her hands either side of his head and drew it back, tracing the old scar over his brow with her thumb before kissing him deeply and gently. “Hello, you old bear,” she said softly, her hands slipping into his mane of wild red hair. “You’re late.”

“Jewel,” he said, and his eyes misted over. “More lovely than ever you are, Mizim, crown of my life, light of my heart.”

I wonder when Mizim started calling Glóin a bear. His nickname for her makes sense, since her name means jewel, but I wonder if it’s just something that she came up with randomly and liked, or if there’s a funny story behind the nickname. But also this, the two fo them reuniting? Adorable!

He took her hands and kissed them one after the other before turning to his children – and his mouth slowly formed the shape of an ‘O’.

Thorin privately thought his expression was hilarious. Frerin, of course, didn’t keep such things private. His brother keeled over backwards, laughing his head off.

I’m with Frerin. I probably wouldn’t have fallen over, but I’d have definitely been laughing.

Glóin had gawked for a moment longer before Gimrís was hurling herself at her 'adad and Gimli was doing likewise, and Glóin was buried beneath the bodies of two mostly-grown Dwarves and groaning.

“Oof! You are too heavy for me now, off with you!” he wheezed, and Thorin chuckled at the sight of the bristly and imposing old warrior spluttering and choking for breath.

Glóin survived trolls, goblins, orcs, spiders, stone giants, and elves, but it’s his kids that knock the breath out of him. I can’t help it, I laugh every time I read that.

Bombur’s reunion with his family had been far louder. Alrís didn’t even have a chance to greet her husband before a veritable horde of Dwarflings swarmed Bombur and Bofur, shouting at the top of their lungs. Bombur’s children buried themselves against his warm and hefty body, snuggling close, investigated his walking staff with curious and grubby fingers, pulled at 'Uncle Bofur’s’ hat and begged for a song and a sweet and a story. Bombur tried to kiss and tickle all of them at once, his seldom-heard booming laugh ringing out over the din. The oldest of the tribe patiently pulled the smaller ones away, and finally Alrís was able to give her husband a smacking kiss and show him the new baby, now two years old – a boy she had named Albur. He was a chubby, chuckling little thing with brown hair and eyes that danced like sunlight on water. Bombur gave the little one a whiskery buss on the top of the head, and then wrapped one arm around Alrís again and pulled her against him for another ringing kiss.

Everything about Bombur’s reunion with his family. Like, if I had to pick a family from Sansukh to visit, it would either be Orla and Dwalin’s or Bombur and Alrís’. Bombur’s love for his family is something I love about this interpretation of him (one of many things, really).

“What have you done to your leg?” she said breathlessly.

He shrugged. “Got poisoned. Don’t recommend it.”

“Poisoned, Daddy?” gasped one of his middle children, his eyes wide as saucers.

“Don’t get too close to orcs,” Bofur said succinctly, and a chorus of 'ooooh’s rose from the crowd of children.

“Hospital food,” Bombur said in disgust, and Alrís threw her head back and laughed and laughed.

Only Bombur could play off the fact that he got poisoned by talking about how horrible hospital food is. Another reason to love Bombur.

“That’s an Elf?” Gimli said, wrinkling his nose. “And here I thought they were supposed to be fair and glorious! Hmmph. They’re all stretched and faded.”

Bofur chuckled. “Don’t be fooled. They might look like skinny, insipid twigs, but they’re stronger than they appear and their eyesight is much better than ours in daylight. An Elf will put an arrow through your eye as soon as look at you.”

“No beards at all,” Gimli muttered under his breath, and shuddered.

But no, if Bofur remembers this and brings it up at some point to Legolas, I can see the both of them laughing about it and teasing Gimli who’s all embarrassed because he was just a kid then and it was the first time he’d seen elves.

“Is that a Hobbit?” whispered Gimrís to her brother.

“Again, no beard!” Gimli said, and shook his head in sympathy.

I love Gimli. 'Elf? No beard, not fair and glorious at all’, 'Hobbit? No beard at all, poor thing’.

“You should hear the ruckus down at the Green Dragon,” Bilbo was saying. “Poor old Odo is convinced it’s an invasion and has the whole pub in an uproar. Half of Brandy Hall – that’s the Brandybucks, by the way – want to come out and see for themselves. The other half want to sound the Horn-call of Buckland. The Bracegirdles are wringing their hands and fainting, the Grubbs are calling it none of our business, the Boffins are trying to organise a welcoming party, and the Tooks are giggling up their sleeves and egging everyone on indiscriminately.”

“And the Bagginses?” said Bombur, smiling.

Bilbo laughed gaily. “Are pretending they’ve never even heard of Dwarves, or dragons, or adventures, or rich mad cousins. Whenever someone brings it up they begin talking loudly about the weather or about pie-eating contests or Farmer Maggott’s dogs or some such. It’s terrifically funny.”

I love how the various groups of hobbits are reacting, especially the Tooks. And the fact that Bombur remembers enough about Bilbo’s family to know that his family would be the funniest group of the lot is amusing too.

“Here, Bilbo,” Bombur said into the ensuing silence. “You should meet my family! That’s Barís, my eldest, and over there’s Bomfur, Bolrur, and Bofrur, my terrible little trio of redheads, and the two big dark-haired lads there are Barum and Barur; then there’s Alfur and Alrur and Alfrís and Bomfrís tormenting that poor pony. Barum, stop that lot, would you, before the pony dies of nerves? And over there is my lovely wife Alrís, and our two littlest ones, Bibur and Albur.”

Alrís sketched a bow, her arms filled with squirming child. “At your service,” she called cheerfully.

Thorin was a little dizzy after all those names.

Bilbo seemed to have no trouble with such a crowd, and bowed to Alrís, smiling. “At yours and your family’s – although I may be a little pressed to accommodate so many. Good gracious me, Bombur! I’d think you were part-Hobbit!”

Changing the subject like a boss. Take notes, Bilbo. And Bilbo thinks the same thing I do, that Bombur and Alrís are part hobbit. Alrís being able to bow while still holding onto two squirming kids is cool, though. I love Thorin’s reaction to all of the names, though. I had the same reaction at first, I had to re-read that paragraph to make sure I’d gotten all of the names right.

Bilbo perked up. “Yes, yes, quite right! I brought a few little things for us to share, though now I hope they’ll stretch far enough…”

“We’ve seen how Hobbits eat,” said Glóin dryly. “I’m fairly sure we’ll do fine, laddie.”

“And just think, Bilbo! No washing up!” Bofur nudged him. Thorin wished everyone would stop touching the Hobbit.

Bilbo rolled his eyes theatrically. “Thank heavens!”

Now I’m imaginging 'Blunt the Knives’ only with dwarflings as well as four adult dwarves and dwarrowdams.

“Here now! First you have to meet my set,” said Glóin. “This is my lad Gimli, and my lass Gimrís. Over there tying down the cart is my darlin’ Mizim. Mizim, come here! Come meet our Burglar!”

“I’m a little busy, you daft old bugger,” she snapped, “in case you haven’t noticed!”

Glóin gave them a sheepish grin. “She’s the jewel o’ my life, she is.”

Have I mentioned how much I love Glóin and Mizim’s relationship? Because I do, so much.

“Doesn’t your face get cold?”

Bilbo burst into giggles.

Glóin tugged at his own beard to hide a smile. “Ah, Gimli m'boy, Hobbits don’t grow beards.”

“Oh, some do, but only those of Stoor families,” Bilbo said, still giggling. “Even then, it’s nothing for a Dwarf to boast of. I remember catching you all staring at me for the first couple of weeks when you thought I wasn’t watching. And for the record, not one of you is any good at being sneaky – well, except Nori, but the rest of you were not exactly subtle about it. Was it my poor naked chin, then?”

“That and your riding, laddie,” Glóin said, and then snorted at the Hobbit’s expression of half-amusement, half-exasperation.

“Were we that rude?” said Bofur, grinning.

“You barged into my house, pillaged my pantry, drafted me into an adventure and sang an extremely insulting song,” Bilbo said, poking Bofur in the side. “Staring was the politest thing any of you did!”

“Ah, my apologies?” mumbled Gimli, scratching at his head.

Poor Gimli, he’s so confused. Just let them bicker, they’ll sort themselves out and it’s a bit amusing to watch too.

“Here.” He pushed a bundle of papers into Bombur’s hands. “All my mother’s recipes. She was a Took, you know, and collected recipes from all over the Shire, all the way as far east as Midgewater.”

Bombur looked down with wide eyes at the crushed bundle and then pressed it protectively against his chest. “Bilbo!” he said, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish.

Perfect gift for Bombur. He’s already been working on hobbit style recipes, now he’s got recipes to do even more of them. If he wasn’t already king of the marketplace, this would seal it.

He handed Bofur a strange configuration of sheepskin and dyed leather, with neat little stitches in the Shire-fashion around the edges. “It’s your hat, do you see,” Bilbo said, anxiously wringing his hands. “I bought the skins from the Proudfeet, and I had it copied by Bell Gamgee. Yours was such a wreck, after all, and I thought you might like to have a new one. I do hope I haven’t upset you?”

Bofur slowly opened up the folded brim of the new hat, dyed a handsome red-brown, and suddenly smiled. He pulled it onto his head, lifting his chin and tugging at the flaps. “What do you think, lads?”

“Oh, thank Mahal, I was going to burn the old one in his sleep,” said Bombur with relief.

Again, I love Bombur. Him, Dori, and Bifur are my favorite canonical dwarves.

Thorin growled under his breath. Would nobody stop touching the Hobbit?

Thorin, your married is showing.

“Glóin, this is for you.” Bilbo handed him a polished wooden box, its lid and sides carved with leaves and grapes. Glóin admired the carving for a moment, and Bilbo huffed. “Well, woodworking is probably the only Hobbit craft that you fellows might appreciate. Still, it’s not empty. Open it.”

Glóin cracked it open, and Gimli peered over his father’s shoulder to look inside. “Pipe-weed?”

“Not just any pipe-weed, my dear Dwarf. That is Longbottom Leaf. It’s the year of '32 – a very good year indeed!”

“My dear Hobbit!” Glóin said, and eyed the box with new appreciation. “I am deeply in your debt!”

Bilbo knows what Glóin likes.

“Now,” Bilbo said, straightening his coat, “the inks are for Ori, and the bottles are delicate, so be careful! These herbs are for Óin. So are these notes. I translated a couple of healing texts from the Elvish - and it was a lot of work, so don’t you dare throw them away! Ah, this is for Dori. It’s an embroidery pattern-book from my Aunt Hildigard, and some of those patterns are old enough to impress even Dori, I dare say. I hope he can get some use out of it.”

Bofur opened the little book and smiled down at the curling designs with their friendly motifs of flowers, leaves and vegetables. “Who knows? Perhaps Hobbit stitching will become the new exotic fashion. You could start a trend!”

“I fervently hope my trend-setting days are done, thank you very much,” said Bilbo dryly.

I love how Bilbo knows well enough to tell them to not throw away the notes just because they came from Elvish healing texts. He knows them all so well. And Dori and Ori’s presents are perfect for them both. Granted, dwarves seem to favor geometric shapes and designs, but hobbit stitching would be exotic and a new challenge for Dori to master.

“Now, this is for Nori, from one Burglar to another.”

Bombur’s forehead creased as he took in the candlesticks, the cheese-knife and the little silver gravy-boat. “What’s this?”

Bilbo rubbed a hand through his hair and smiled a trifle wickedly. “I discovered after I got back that it wasn’t only my frightful relatives who were a little too free with my belongings. A certain light-fingered chap had made off with a few small things on the night of the party. I thought he might like the rest of the set, with my compliments.”

Nori’s going to be so irritable! But he’ll also be a bit proud, probably. Bilbo learned his lessons well, he knew when Nori stole versus when Lobelia did.

“Did he faint?” asked Bombur, leaning forward eagerly.

A wheezing little sound of glee came from under Bofur’s hat.

Bilbo paused, and then he sighed. “Yes.”

This is one of my favorite bits in this chapter. Conkers is a bit higher on the list, but this? Especially Bilbo’s little 'nope’ and them all laughing again? I laugh every time I read it.

“An’ being Hobbit and all, it’d seem pretty special and out of the ordinary,” Bofur said, smoothing down his ruffled moustache. “Wonder if we could make a model Bag End?”

“Oh no. Oh, no, no, no, no, no! If I have an entire generation of Dwarves trooping through my house, I will hunt you down and sting the pair of you!” Bilbo said sternly.

Bombur closed his mouth with a snap, but Bofur looked entirely too innocent to be believed.

Bifur’s going to love his toy, but I wouldn’t trust Bofur’s innocent look. That’s probably the same look that he had when he told Dwalin that he wouldn’t make a Dwalin warrior toy.

“Traditional Hobbit weaponry,” Bilbo said, a gleam in his eye. “I in particular have some skill at it. If you must know.”

“No,” said Bofur in disbelief.

“Not…?” said Glóin.

“Conkers?” Thorin said, utterly incredulous.

Traditional hobbit weaponry at it’s finest. Although I always wondered why, in canon, Bilbo never told the dwarves how good at throwing and aiming hobbits are. They would’ve taught him to use a bow, probably, he might have taken to it faster than he took to the sword…again, I need to stop before I give myself more ideas.

Bilbo leaned back, sighing with satisfaction and slapping his knees. “And that’s the game to me!”

“Are all Hobbits so good at throwing and aiming at things?” Bofur said, staring dismally at his halved horse-chestnut. He hadn’t won a single round.

Bilbo shrugged. “Bit of a hobby, really.”

Poor Bofur, you’ll get better with practice. Gimrís seems pretty good at the game, maybe she’ll help you out.

Many of the other Dwarves sent curious glances over to the Hobbit and his odd little game, his bare face and furry feet. Thorin bristled at their interest and barely restrained himself from barking at them to show their Burglar the proper respect.

Thorin, your married is showing again.

“Dís, daughter of Frís, I make known to you Bilbo Baggins of the Shire. He’s a Hobbit,” he added unnecessarily.

“I can see that, akhûnîth,” she said, her mithril-pure voice lilting with amusement, though her face barely moved. “Dís. At your service.”

Bilbo pulled himself upright and tried to look as dignified as a Hobbit can whilst holding a horse-chestnut painted bright yellow. “At yours and your family’s.”

Dís smiled at that, rather sadly. “You already have been.”

There was an awful silence, and then Bilbo burst out, “You look so much like him.”

She froze, and then she dropped her eyes.

This always kills me. If Thorin had lived, this meeting probably would have been a lot happier. As it is, Dís is meeting the little creature who left his comfortable home to help dwarves that he had never met before that night. It’d be worse if she knew how much Bilbo had loved Thorin, but I don’t think she knew that yet. But just…this whole bit right here is so sad and full of feels.

The young Dwarf shifted his weight between his feet for a moment, looking uncertain. Then he said, “Mister Baggins was showing us a Hobbit game, Aunt Dís.”

All heads turned to him, and he flushed as red as his hair, before ploughing on bravely. “It’s a mite tricky to get the hang of it, but I was starting to see how it was done. D'you want to try it?”

Bilbo can take notes from Gimli about how to change the subject, but Gimli needs to take notes from Bombur.

“Here,” said Glóin and handed Dís the red horse-chestnut, his hands gentle as he gave up his place. “Sit down, cousin. I’m going to see if I can find Bombur a chair.”

“Oh, don’t bother on my account!” Bombur protested, but tucked by his side, young Barís nodded vigorously. Bombur grunted and poked his daughter in the shoulder, and she wrinkled her nose.

“Your leg’s going to get all cramped sitting like that, Dad. Best to stretch it out.”

I love Barís. She’s not my favorite OC (that’s undoubtedly Orla), but she’s lovely, an amazing singer, apparently a good daughter and big sister, and she seems pretty witty too. There’s a lot to love about all of the OCs in this.

“Aunt Dís?” Gimli said softly, and she hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside her young cousin and patting his knee.

“Don’t fret about me, young one,” she said. “Time for your sister to watch her back.”

Where’s Nori when you need him? My money’s on Dís winning this round.

“Yes, well,” Bilbo sighed, straightening slightly and resting his head against his hand. “I should really trade in that 'lucky number’ title of mine, shouldn’t I? I had all the luck in the world, but it wasn’t enough.”

“Never is,” Bofur said in a voice that was nearly a whisper.

“You won’t need luck, I swear it,” Thorin vowed fiercely. “Mahal be my witness! You won’t need luck. You’ve got me.”

Thorin is 100x better than luck, apparently, because with his help, things end up mostly okay for Bilbo.

anonymous asked:

omega hux and super protective alpha kylo, hux gets hurt/lost or thought to be dead, and kylo loses it and tears through whatever is keeping him from his mate, willing to do anything to keep him safe.

I decided to go with ‘lost’, I hope that’s okay!

Kylo blames himself. 

Shore leave isn’t something he has ever bothered with. If he wanted vacation time away from the First Order then he’d take it, no questions asked, and disappear for a few days before returning as though he’s never been away. 

Hux, on the other hand, needs a schedule, needs to know what dates they’ll be away and where they’ll be going. Everything has to be ordered and precise because that way, Hux had said, there’s little room for mistakes or for interruptions. And Kylo had been his usual derivative self and mocked Hux’s need to organise everything, including their relationship. Any omega would leave things to their alpha to sort, but no, not Armitage Hux. 

But now, as Kylo tears apart another interrogation room, he promises he’ll never make fun of Hux again if it means getting him back. Swinging his lightsaber with as much strength as he can gather, Kylo lets out an agonised yell, throwing his head back and scrunching his eyes closed, feeling the hole inside his chest tear open a little more from being parted from his mate. 

But the corpse of an alpha that’s slumped over in the interrogation chair has managed to give Kylo the final pieces of information he needs to find Hux.

Outer Rim. Omega harem.

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Better Than Fighting

A Snowbaz Drabble

I look over at Baz sitting beside me. Crowley, sometimes i don’t think I’ll ever get used to us not fighting. I mean we do sometimes but it usually ends with us being soft with each other instead of him trying to kill me. Penny is staring from across the table, she still can’t believe we have a truce, or that we’re sitting at the same table for dinner. We got a lot of stares at first, and nobody even knows about the boyfriend thing. But it’s died down a bit.

Baz catches my eye and smirks at me, but doesn’t say anything. If we were alone in our room he’d probably say something about me staring, though he’s used to it. I hear a huff and look over. Agatha is still sitting alone, and she’s looking at us. Probably at Baz, actually. I don’t know why I decide to do this but I call out across the room to her.

“Agatha!” She’s surprised that I acknowledge her, even though she’d been staring. Fair enough, as I haven’t really spoken to her since we broke up. But she looks sad over there alone and I’m tired of dancing around each other so I wave my hand, motioning her over. She looks hesitant but she gets up and adjusts her skirt and long blonde hair before starting over. I move down the bench to make room at the already crowded table, pushing myself right up against Baz. He coughs a bit and I look over. He’s basically glaring towards Agatha. A thrill shoots through me. Could Baz really be jealous? I’m so used to him being cool and collected, while I’m always a bloody mess. But he can’t seem to control the strange look on his face. It makes me smirk. I move my hand underneath the table and squeeze his leg. His muscles move beneath his perfectly fitted trousers and I can feel him relax. I watch his face intently. I’m used to that at least. The familiar planes of his forehead, his high cheekbones and pale skin. The way his lips are almost always tilted upwards in a smirk. Only difference is I used to think he was always plotting against me. Now I just watch him to watch him. His grey eyes are hidden beneath his lashes. Which are fluttering at my touch.

I vaguely notice that Agatha has sat down beside me, leaving plenty of room between us. I’m no longer paying attention to her though. I smile and turn back towards my food, but I keep my hand on his knee, slowly moving it up towards his thigh. Gently brushing against his trousers, a teasing caress.  I can feel him twitch beneath me, shivering at my touch. One thing we’re good at is pushing each other. Even when we kiss it’s a battle. Just now it’s a battle of lips and hands instead of a battle to the death. And I like it. We wouldn’t be Simon and Baz if we weren’t fighting in some way. So I trail my hand upwards, purposely looking away and listening to Penny babble about a possible spell from Adele’s new song. I know I’m frustrating Baz. Crowley he’s practically vibrating beneath my palm right now. His other leg, the one my hand isn’t on, is bouncing beneath the table. My hand reaches his upper thigh, sliding along it before cool fingers snatch at mine beneath the table. I hear him breathe a sigh of relief beside me. I smile. I win. Instead of pulling my hand away I twist it, threading my fingers through his. He leans over and whispers one word into my ear, rubbing his thumb lightly across my hand.

“Later.”

The blush that blooms across Simon’s cheeks and nose is glorious. I watch his throat as he swallows thickly before I unfold my long legs and stand up, letting go of Simon’s hand. I want to stay. Actually I want to do more than stay. I want to tackle Snow where he sits, so I have to leave. I’m allowed to do things like that now. I can kiss the mole on his neck and run my hands through his hair. I can lick his collarbones and kiss along his jaw. But I think Bunce would have a heart attack if she knew about that. She can barely believe we have a truce.

I remember when she nearly walked in on us. Snow still has nightmares, figures after all he’s been through. But he whimpers and thrashes at night. It makes sleeping all together impossible so I finally got tired of it one night and moved to his bed. I wrapped my arms around him from behind, my chest flush against his bare back. He stilled and I looked down at him as his pouchy eyes blinked open slowly.

“Baz?” He murmured.

I normally would have responded with something like “No it’s a fucking numpty. Who do you think?”

But he looked so perfect with his hair crushed against his pillow and sleep lines on his cheek.

Instead I just softly replied, “here.”

He reached up and grabbed my hand, threading his fingers through mine and bringing them against his chest. His head resting in the crook of my other arm. I settled down against him and buried my nose in his neck, breathing in the smell of  bacon, homemade cinnamon buns and smoke that always follows him around.

Sometime in the night he turned around, and I woke up in the morning to him pushing my shirt up, pressing kisses against my stomach and up my chest. He had smiled his ridiculous smile when I pushed my fingers into his tangled curls and groaned before he was pushing up to meet my mouth. We kissed and kissed and Snow had just sucked my lower lip into his mouth when my fangs popped. Swearing I pushed him back, but he just grinned and moved to kiss my neck. I groaned again. “Fuck, Snow.”

He laughed and ran his tongue along my throat. He was so good at this.

That was when Bunce arrived, rapping on the door three times in quick succession.

“Simon? Simon, so help me you had better be awake!”

I moved faster than I ever had, and when she flung open the door I was back in my own cold bed, Snow on the other side of our room looking typically confused and wide-eyed but oh so adorable. My lips still tingled, stretched over my fangs and my body was warmer than I think it had ever been.

Now I just walk out of the commons. I know that if I look back, Snow will be glaring at me and twitching as if he wants to stand up and follow me. I know he will soon, he just can’t control himself, and it makes me grin like a fucking idiot. I go up to our room and grab the book I’ve been reading before wandering down the hill past the main Watford grounds and near the Wavering Wood. The druids in the Wood are nosy, so I sit in the shade of a maple tree in the scattering of trees just outside of it, my back against the trunk and start to read.

I’m not sure how much time has passed when he appears, walking down the hill looking bloody perfect in his Watford uniform. His hand brushes through his curls, making them even messier. I turn my eyes back to my book, but my whole body is attune to him. He doesn’t really bother with greetings or anything, he just throws himself across my lap like a cat. A flash of annoyance runs through me as my book gets jarred, but it’s Simon, so I don’t care. I set it down and feel Snow’s face burrowing itself against my jumper. He seems to like my stomach a lot. I’m not complaining. I lean my head back against the tree and close my eyes. He pushes up off the ground, off of me and I crack one eye open. He’s up on his knees, looking at me.

“Later, huh?”

I smirk in reply and he grabs my face, pushing his lips against mine as he moves himself over me, straddling my lap. I move my hands to his hips, gripping them as I push my face back at him. His fingers press into my cheeks and all I can hear are our breaths mixing together as his tongue moves against mine. I’m careful, my fangs can’t pop when we’re like this, but I think I’m okay for now. Deciding this I suck on his lower lip and he groans. I move my hands, deftly untucking his jumper from his trousers and slipping my hands up underneath. His body is smooth and firm. I can feel the moles on his back and the heat radiating off him, the ripples of his muscles as they respond to my touch. I’ve imagined this for so long. And it’s so much better than I could have imagined. His blunt nails rake my neck as he moves his hands into my hair.

“Simon,” I whisper against his lips.

He pulls back, his fingers still tangled in my hair, mine up his shirt resting against his lower back.

“Isn’t this better than fighting?” His eyelashes flutter.

I roll my eyes and pull him back towards me.

“Crowley, yes.”

His mouth meets mine.

“A thousand times yes.”

I kiss the mole on his neck, and then the one by his ear, and the one above his eye.

He laughs. Simon Snow’s laugh is golden, just like the rest of him. It ignites a flame in my stomach. It makes me want to do everything I can to make him laugh again. Fuck. I’m snogging Simon Snow, that doesn’t mean I have to go all soft about everything.

But it makes me want to.

Sleepless Nights (Request #23)

Originally posted by hopeless-hugger

PROMPT: “Hoseok! Hoseok! Open the door are you okay in there! Please let me in! Oh my god.“ "Y/n, y/n snap out of it. Are you okay? I’m right here what’s wrong? Did you have another nightmare? Ahhh. Stop crying. It’s okay. I’m right here.” J-hopeXReader. Fluff.

Song Inspiration/Reading Music: Stolen by Dashboard Confessional.

Sleepless Nights

“Hoseok! Hoseok!” Your fists pound over the door, the image of him falling from that cliff still vivid behind your eyelids. You had to be sure that he was still in his bed—that he was still breathing. “Open the door! Are you okay in there? Please let me in! Oh my God!”

Your voice was raw and squealing and hoarse with tears. You heard his pounding footsteps before the door swung open. Blinking through sleep, his cloudy eyes widened at the sight of your tears. “Y/N? Y/N snap out of it!”

But you couldn’t stop the trembling in your lips, and the choking sobs in your chest, even as he pulled you into his chest. All you kept seeing was his body plummeting down, down, down.

“Are you okay?” He asked, stroking your hair gently. You managed a nod, and he let out a breath of relief. Still your sobs continued to rack through you, straight into his own chest. “I’m right here. What’s wrong? Did you have another nightmare?”

Swallowing your sobs, you swiped the tears from your cheeks. “Yeah…it was the one with the cliff again.”

Smiling softly, he pressed his lips to the crown of your head, murmuring into the silky softness, “It’s ok, Y/N. I’m right here. I didn’t fall…well, not off a cliff anyway.”

Winking, he guided you into his cluttered bedroom, and although you rolled your eyes at his obvious cheesiness, you couldn’t help the laugh and comfort you felt as he tucked you both into his blankets, wrapping you in his warmth and smile and promises.

It was only in his bed that you ever truly found peaceful, dreamless sleep. Cuddled together beneath the streams of moonlight peeking through the window above his bed, he rubbed one foot idly against yours, kissing your lips, stealing your heart—your tears and fears—until all that was left were smiles and sighs.

Spooning you gently, he murmured over your ear, just as you dozed into a deep, beautiful slumber, “Sweet dreams, Y/N. Sleep well.”

Yawning, you said, “Goodnight, Hoseok. I love…”

But, you were gone. Floating through glorious dreams of his eyes, nose, and lips. Dreams where he so ardently stole your heart. 

Smiling sleepily, he whispered into your sleeping ears, “I love you, too, Y/N.”

Beside your boyfriend, you found kisses and love and safety. In his strong, protective arms you beat those pesky nightmares. Next to Hoseok, there would never be sleepless nights.

Preface: the DM is queer, incoming gayness

DM: as the party rolls up to a fort a bug bear chief at the gate hails you

DM as chief: “If you want to pass through here to your destination, you must give us a portion of your cargo.”

Rogue shouting from the wagon: “I vote we do! It would be hilarious!”

Maxwell, the muscle wizard: “As much as I’d enjoy getting through all this without bloodshet, we’ve been tasked to deliver this cargo safely to Point B. We can’t give you what isn’t ours. Is there anything else we can do for you? I could heal your sick.”

Maxwell OOC: through the power of punching, of course

Chief: “We have no sick! We are strong!! We are powerful!! You will follow our rules or you will not pass!!”

Maxwell: “I can help you become even stronger! I am an agent of the Muscle God! I will teach you secret exercises known only to a select few! Or if you refuse, I will punch you until you relent.

Chief: “Pah! The muscle god! The muscle god bends over and squeals in anguish at my fury! I roar and they FREEZE in pathetic terror.”

Maxwell: “Is that so? Come over here and say that to my biceps.”

Chief: “In my lands you follow my rules! You come over to ME.”

Dwarven Fighter from the wagon: “Ye biceps be tiny fer a bugbear my friend. Why don’t ye come over and arm wrestle him.” *rolls 17 on persuasion*

DM: The chief thinks for a moment, scratching his chin, “Very well!! Everyone but the big man stay there, you, come meet me in the middle of the bridge.” The chief picks up a nearby crate and places it in the middle of the bridge.

Maxwell: “Gladly” I flex and stretch,

DM: He removes his shirt and flexes, his bulging muscles already glistening

Maxwell: I am already not wearing a shirt

DM: The two place their powerful arms on the crate and prepare to wrestle

We decided that we would RP at each other, and whoever RP’d better as voted on by the other 3 players would earn advantage on the Strength checks, first to 3 victorious strength checks won

Maxwell: Maxwell and bugbear’s eyes narrow as the background goes all anime fast lines, glaring hard into each other’s eyes. “For the glory of the Muscle God.” Maxwell growls as they lock hands, “You’re going down.”

DM: The bugbear cannot help but laugh as he wrestles with his one arm, he rubs his other hand all over his pecs and chest and grins as he raises his eyebrows at Maxwell, he gives a little wink every time he pushes hard.

(DM won but Maxwell rolls a natural 20)

DM: “You’re going to have to be a lot gayer if you want to beat me puny muscle man!”

Maxwell: “Gayer? I fondle men for BREAKFAST”

DM: At that the bugbear grabs the table as his eyes bulge out of his head excitedly, he licks his lips in anticipation and squeezes the table with his other hand, his eyes trace all over your pecs and he whispers: “Ogdor has not faced such sublime beauty since the great muscle-off of 678YR”

Maxwell: As the two struggle, their faces move closer and closer until the only thing filling each’s vision is the other’s gaze. “Your muscles… ah. Ogdor, you are truly a work of art.”

(Maxwell was granted the advantage and won the exchange)

DM: Ogdor leans even closer, until you feel his nose brushing against your glorious mustache, time seems to slow as you stare into each other’s eyes. Ogdor realizes that he doesn’t need to win, in fact, it may be even better to lose, as the experience of wrestling with such a glistening specimen of man is all that really matters.”

Maxwell: Even with his muscles bulging to the utmost of their capacity. Maxwell still somehow finds the strength to bring his other hand up and gently stroke the side of Ogdor’s face. No words are needed; understanding passes between the two in an instant. This is truly the fusion of two pure souls.

(DM was granted advantage, but Maxwell takes it home with another natural 20)

Maxwell: In one perfect instant, their lips touch. Ogdor’s muscles go limp and the back of his hand bangs against the crate.

DM: Ogdor stands up, tears streaming down his cheeks. He points at the door and says “Let these people pass”

“Do you think she will forget me?”

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY (=

Sammy’s POV

We finally land and grab our luggages to find Big Mike picking us up. “What’s up man!” I yell, running to hug him with the rest of the boys following me. “So what’s the plan for today my man?” J asked. “Well, I was going to drop you guys off, then pick you up around lunchtime to go eat somewhere.” “I’m game!” G said, highfiving him.

Big Mike had picked us back up after seeing our family and we went out to this diner we always used to go to senior year. “Man, this place hasn’t changed one bit.” I said looking around, sitting in our usual booth. “What’s that place across the street?” J pointed out the window. We all turned and saw a cute little store. “That’s actually a new cupcake place. Their cupcakes are so bomb. We should go there after. Maybe my friend is working today. You guys should really meet her. She’s super sweet and down to earth.” Big Mike said, talking all good about her. “Wow, seems like someone’s head over heels for this girl!” I teased him. “Nah. She’s new in town. Moved in just a couple weeks ago. We don’t see each other like that and we even said it to each other. Maybe one of you guys will end up liking her!” He said wiggling his eyebrows. “Big Mike, I didn’t know you had friends…” G joked at him making us all laugh. 

After lunch, we drove across the street to get some dessert. G walked in first then the rest of us. Mike stood behind us, trying to hide his face. When we walked in, the aroma of cupcakes just flew in our nose and it smelt glorious. “Hi! Happy Valentine’s Day!” A girl behind the counter cheerful said, smiling so innocently. Big Mike popped out from behind us and she saw him, “Oh… Hi….” her tone of voice changed at him, face going emotionless. “Ha ha ha.” Big Mike went next to the register and hugged her. “Hi Mikey. You brought some more friends.” “What can I say. My friends love dessert.” “Hmm, you have friends Mikey?” She asked him, raising her eyebrow making us chuckle. “Hi, I’m Y/N.” She stuck out her hand for us to shake. Nate was the first to shake her hand, “I’m Nathan but you can call me Nate.” He winked at her. “I’m Jack, but you can call me J.” “I am Jack but you can call me G.” “I am John but you can call me Swazz.” “And I’m Samuel but you can call me tonight.” I said smirking at her. She just chuckled, “Cute. Mikey told me his friends were flirty but he didn’t mention them being cute. So, would you guys like some cupcakes?” 

“Hell yeah!” We all yelled in unison. We ordered some cupcakes, ready to pay for them, “On me.” She stuck out her hands, pushing our money away. We sat down, eating the cupcakes and talking. “Did you make these?” I said with a mouthful of red velvet cupcake in my mouth. “I did. Had to come in early to make them but I like to bake so it’s ok. Here,” She handed me a napkin. I started turning red, knowing I’m embarrassing myself in front of her. “So, why did you move her Y/N?” G asked. “I go to Creighton University for the nursing program.” “OOOO, nursing?! Okay girl, with ya bad self!” J sang and highfiving her. “I’ll be right back.” She went to the back of the store for a minute. Every single movement she made, since I’ve stepped foot in this store, I have been watching her. The gracefulness in her is so calm and precious. “Wow Sammy, be any more obvious.” Mike said, sitting on the counter. “What are you talking about?” “We all know you’re into her.” “No i’m not!” “Yeah you are.” They all said in unison. “No I’m not.” “You are literally FALLING for this girl right before our eyes Sam.” G said. “No idea what you guys are talking about.” 

Y/N came out with boxes stacked on top with each other. She each put down a box right in front of us that held half a dozen of cupcakes. “These are for your families because I love your families.” She said, smiling at us. “You know our families?” J questioned. “I know your parents, yeah. Johnsons, Gilinskys, Swazzs, Maloleys, and Wilkinsons. I met them 2 weeks after I moved here, after I met Mikey. He invited me to a dinner that happened to have all your parents there. They speak very highly of each of you.” I quickly stood up in front of her, “Hey, would you like to hang out with us or something? We’re about to go, I don’t know, do some hood rat shit I guess.” She looked up at me, “Haha, as fun as that sounds, I’m kind of stuck here.” Just then a lady, I’m guessing her boss, came out. “No you’re not. I’ll take over today. You go have fun with your friends. Hey Mikey.” “Hi Ms Jones.” “I guess i can hang out with you guys then. Let me go clock out.” She walked, dropping her phone. I immediately went to go pick it up, “Woah, you’re quick. haha thanks.” She went to the back and I turned to the guys, who were making whipping sounds. “Shut up.” 

She came back out, “Ok. Let’s go!” She smiled so big. I rushed to the door to pull it open for her. But little did I know, she was walking, her face turned to Mikey, that I hit her face with the door. She fell straight to the ground on her back. “OH SHIT!” Nate yelled trying to catch her. “I AM SO SORRY Y/N! OH MY GOODNESS! DOES YOUR NOSE HURT? ARE YOU OKAY? I AM SO SORRY!!! I DIDN’T MEAN TO-” “It’s okay Sammy. I’m fine.” She giggled, holding her nose. “Sweetie are you okay?” Her boss kneeled at her head. “Ah, a little nose bleed. I’ll grab you a towel. You’ll be fine.” “Way to go Sam.” J elbowed me. I helped Y/N get up and sat her on a chair, “I am so sorry!” “It’s okay Sammy, really. It’s not like you’re the first one to ever hit me in the face with something. Mikey over here threw a basketball at my face the day we met. Kev elbowed my nose one time trying to explain a fight to Mikey. I just happen to be at the wrong place wrong time every time. Haha. Don’t worry about it.” She said, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. Her boss came back out with a rag to wipe up the blood. She then stuck some tissues up her nose to stop the bleeding, and held an icepack on her nose to stop from bruising. 

“If there is ANYTHING I could do for you, i’ll do it!” I offered, desperately. “Now that you mention it. Can you drive my car to wherever we are going? I don’t think it’ll be safe if I drove like this.” She pointed to her icepack on her face, laughing at herself. “Yeah, totally.” I helped her get in the car and drove to Mikey’s place. “Y/N I’m really sorry,” I kept glancing back at her. “Can you stop apologizing? It’s okay, i promise. Stop worrying about it.” She put her hand on the back of my neck, stroking my hair lightly. “Is this calming your nerves from hitting me?” “Yeah, it actually is.” “Good. You are now my valentine. Happy Valentine’s day Sammy.” She smiled. “Happy Valentine’s day Y/N.” I chuckled, smiling at the road.


The weekend has come to an end and we are about to head back to LA. Mikey and Y/N drove us tot he airport. She was helping Swazz check in his luggage and I just stared at her. “Fuck man, I really like her. Do you think she’ll forget about me?” I asked, looking at the rest of the guys. “With the way you hit her face with that door? Who would forget you!” J said having all of them laugh at me. “Come on. I’m serious guys,” “Come on man. You’re Sammy Wilk!” G trying to hype me up. “So,” Y/N said walking back to us. “Everyone checked in their luggage? Got their boarding pass? You’re good to go! Have a safe flight boys!” She said hugging each of us. I hugged her last, “Don’t forget about me okay?” I said while hugging her. She pulled away looking at me with a funny look, “How could I forget this face?” She said grabbing my face and smiling. “I’ll see this face in 3 months!” I gave her a weird look. “Ohp.” She stepped back next to Big Mike. “Way to spill the beans Y/N.” He said to her, as she was looking down at her shoes. 

“What is she talking about?” I asked. “Surprise! We are going to LA for spring break to visit you guys!” “WHAT?!?!?!” We all yelled in excitement as I bro hugged Mikey and J twirled Y/N in the air. “I’ll see you guys in LA. Bye guys. Bye valentine.” She waved directly at me. “Come here!” I ran to her and hugged her tight. “I’ll see you in 3 months! BYE!” She tried pushing me off. We walked to security check and i turned back to look at her, “I’ll never forget this weekend.” “Neither will we. BOOM!” They tried reenacting me hitting Y/N’s face. 

Title: Mating season and awkward discussion

Fandom: Maleficent

Pairing: Aurora/Maleficent

Summary: Aurora gives Maleficent presents and Diaval is volunteered to explain a few things about the meaning the gesture can have.

Note: One-shot based on a headcanon I posted earlier. My writing and my English are not perfect, sorry!

 It is the third time this week, Diaval notices, perched on a branch. This time, it is a flower crown, made of colorful roses, he is sure he can see thorns. Are these lilies?

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4

Your eyes, nose, lips
Your touch that used to touch me,
to the ends of your fingertips.
I can still feel you