how was i supposed to colour this we just don't know

Best worst ideas and heat centers

Pairing: Sterek (Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski)

Warnings: Smut

Summary: The undertone of his own scent on top of the alpha stranger hits him. It makes the voice of his wolf go from a loud growl to a low whine. He swallows thickly. Stiles takes a couple of seconds more, adjusting to the idea that now it was too late to change his mind.

Notes: I wrote this for the @stereksummerexchange​ based on the prompts @sunshinexlollipops​ gave them. 

My first smut, my first A/O/B fic and my first exchange ever, so if this sucks you guys know why. You might want to take a seat guys ‘cause IT’S BETA’D - thank you, Cara mía @roseszain

Heat is inconvenient. That’s the first thing that parents and teachers tells you when you get of age. There are hormones that rocket to the sky. A fogging desire to hump everything near you. And of course you can’t forget the loss of rationality that makes you end up presenting for strangers just because your primal side tells you to. Your senses are too sharp; smells make your mouth water. Things start to overwhelm you. Suddenly smells cause your skin itch. Lights and shadows make your ears ring and feel dizzy. And that’s without mentioning how your genitalia reacts. Like clothes and chairs getting drenched. Or your dick pointing to things that you didn’t even know turned you on.

So heat is pretty discomforting.

But it also is pretty unfair. If you’re in luck of being an Alpha, it doesn’t strike you full force. You get the need to mark, to claim. And every little thing ends up being a territorial problem. But you get that every two months. And just under the length of two days. Lucky bastards.

Instead, an Omega heat is baring your throat and pumping out your ass to almost everyone around you. It’s whining because the scent of an alpha hypnotizes your mind. Shuddering because you need fangs over your neck and claws marking your body more than breathing. And the best thing of it all is that it happens every month, and rolls over you full force for four long days or longer. Sometimes even a week. Just peachy.

And yeah, you get time out of school, work, fighting crime under a mask or whatever duty you have with a ticket straight to Jack-Off-Ville. Really wonderful. Who doesn’t want to stay home and play Hand Solo, am I right? But the painful arousal numbing your mind takes away the fun.

There are some solutions that school and goverment are glad to inform new pups getting their first heat each year. Pretty much the usual: stay inside, in a locked room with enough food and water. Have someone you can trust to check up on you once in a while. Sexual toys can be really helpful, but the heat fever may or may not dissapear just with that.

There’s also the option of the social health centers.

Those places are like fucking five star hotels for your heat. As easy and expensive as one would dare to think. You just go, fill some papers with the usual information. Name, age, social security number. What kind of room would you prefer? Are you an alpha or an omega? At what age did you have your first heat? What are your usual symptoms? Are there usually complications? Do you want some specific toys? Would you like a partner? Will you pay with cash or a credit card? Y'know, the usual.

And after all that, you got a nice room that has an unique code to get in. Safe from people in heat running around. And inside you are welcomed with food, water, a private bathroom and lube. Probably more lube than food but hey, you can’t really complain.

And the thing is that there he was. For the first time in his life. Getting the full experience. Fidgeting on the bed. Twisting his hands on the bed sheets. Licking and biting his lips.


Because that’s exactly what Stiles is best at: overthinking.

He breathes deeply. In for three, out for three. Goosebumps travel across his naked body. It’s not cold nor fear. It’s anticipation. Anxiety. The good kind of anxiety. Or at least that’s what he expects. He sighs, closing his eyes trained at the ceiling.

His mind is starting to get fuzzy at the same time the door to his room opens. He can feel his eyes flare yellow for a couple of seconds even though they’re closed. Instinct kicking in, trying to warn him about an intruder in his den. The undertone of his own scent on top of the alpha stranger hits him. It makes the voice of his wolf go from a loud growl to a low whine. He swallows thickly. Stiles takes a couple of seconds more, adjusting to the idea that now it was too late to change his mind.

“You requested an alpha to knot you?,” says a low voice that sounds like a growl and makes his insides flip. He isn’t sure if it’s because of the heat or the guy actually has the voice of a sex god, but probably at this point it doesn’t matter. He nods slowly, acknowledging with a huff in exchange. “My name is Derek Hale. I have to check that you fully understand the gound rules which are no intimate touching, no foreplay, no feral activities, no marking besides the knot and scenting.”

“Basically a bunch of noes that– fuck,” he isn’t prepared for the sight that welcomes him once he opens his eyes and looks at the door. His voice is from a sex god. Damn, how good it is to be right. And he is going to tap that. Or get tapped by that. Semantics.

The alpha keeps standing awkwardly at the door, dressed in just black briefs and a t-shirt a couple sizes too small that Stiles recognizes as his. There’s muscles bulging under the layer of fabric. Muscles that he wants to lick and bite and do all kinds of things that were already on the not-to-do list. And if the frown that he has is anything to go by, Stiles isn’t being as subtle about it as he thinks.

The silence is getting dense in the room. The alpha - Derek - rakes his eyes all over Stiles’ body, who starts to wriggle, feeling suddenly exposed and utterly horny at the same time. Huh. He prays it’s just a side efect of the heat and not a new kink of his. Stiles averts his eyes to a point over Derek’s shoulder, trying to look more composed that what he feels.

“I’m Stiles Stilinski–”

“What the hell is a Stiles?”

That is a question that he hears quite often and always loves to answer with as much sarcasm as possible. But in this case, a sincere bubble of laughter burst through his throat. He wasn’t expecting it. And by Derek’s face of utter disbelief at that slip up, neither was he. It’s completely priceless. He thinks about how for a moment it doesn’t feel like a medical procedure with a patient but more like two guys alone in a room. More of a cheesy porn scene than a Doctor House rerun. He lets out another laugh, a bit high pitched. Perhaps he isn’t as composed as he wants to believe. He’s slowly going into hysterics. Just peachy.

“Me, I am a Stiles. But don’t worry about it,” he gets up in a sitting position on the bed and watches somewhat amused at how the alpha’s eyes never leave his body. “Shall we start?”

Derek snaps his head up to Stiles’ face. Like some sort of trained puppy. He almost laughs out loud in response, barely containing himself. A bold nod followed by clothes falling to the ground is the last missing piece before Stiles’ brain starts to melt. The pit of his stomach getting fuzzy. He feels like a teenager again, letting his heat take the best of him. Which is his mind. But he couldn’t care less. A greek god is sitting by his side in the bed, ready to knot him. Losing his mind is just a side effect. And he can live with it.

His mouth feels dry for a moment once their eyes locks. Stiles tries to figure out what to call Derek’s eye colour and how is it possible that with the green and the blue there is also grey and gold giving him the same effect as a kaleidoscope. Plumb pink lips swollen and parted from bitting and licking nerviously. Honey brown eyes scanning the alpha up and down like a predator behind heavy lidded eyes. Derek looks away, swallowing hard. And that, my friends, that’s something Stiles is going to have in mind for future reference.

He can feel his throat close and the voice of his wolf growling claim claim claim and mine mine mine over and over. The heat taking over almost completely. This is such a bad idea, he is so sure. He runs a hand down his face, trying to focus. His skin prickling with the need to touch and his gums trying to flash out his fangs, to claim and mark down what clearly isn’t his to do. He balls his hands into fists, trying to ground himself.

“How would you like to proceed?”, Derek’s eyes again lock with his. Stiles feels taken aback because it is almost like if he was about to devour him. You need to keep this proffesional, Stilinski. This time he is the one adverting his eyes away.

“Just… stay there”, said Stiles, his long and lean figure standing up and walking slowly towards Derek. Stiles’ dick is hard and red, a normal response to the heat, but he’s sure it would have happened even without it involved. He’s mesmerized to see that Derek’s is erect and pulsing too. How many times had Derek been professional knotting for him to be so casual about this? Casual and calm but also looking like he would pounce and fuck the shit out of someone at any moment? It makes his insides churn with a bit of jealousy. He’s definetely going insane because of the heat. He swallows hard again in an unsuccessful attempt to avoid thinking, trying to stay calm even with those kaleidoscopic eyes now scrutinizing his face up close. Stiles’ not sure when they got so close or if it was him or Derek the one who took it further. He bites down a moan when the alpha starts scenting his neck with little to none delicacy. He’s going to have beard burn for days. A small whimper escapes from his lips.


Stiles”, a voice hoarse and cracked says. Stiles can feel his knees tremble at how wrecked Derek sounds. Like Stiles was more than just a client. Was it supposed to be like this? Feel so personal? Something pulls inside his chest and makes him want to get on board with the crazy ideas on his mind and forget whatever fucking rules they should follow. Like biting every inch of skin and bruise the rest with kisses until his primal side feels satisfied. Like carving his back with blunt nails and make Derek smell like him for the rest of his life.

Derek let out a soft growl, making his wolf howl, loud completely restless. Insisting to claim this man, to make him his. Persistent to a point in wich it ached, his skin prickling with unstoppable desire. This is definitely one of the worst idea he ever had, but Derek’s already under his skin. It’s too late now. He can’t leave. He can’t stop it. He don’t want it to stop.

With his mind attune to his primal side, it was easy to stop thinking and get going. He wanted to howl out loud. Bracing his hands on Derek’s shoulders, Stiles put his legs around the alpha’s sides. The arousal written all over his face. He can see Derek clawing the matress to keep himself from touching Stiles and that won’t do. Moving his hips a bit for both of them to feel the lust pool down in their groins. Alpha red eyes flashing at the feel of his insides breaching. Stiles gives a mischievous half smile before starting to lower himself on Derek’s shaft; his hole damp, clenching in anticipation, needing to be fucked raw and hard, to take the heat away.

His mind trying to convey if it is something normal, but losing the train of thought at how good it starts to feel. Derek growls low, which makes him huff a small laugh that dies into a moan. He wants to provoke Derek, get under his skin too. If it is the only way he could get him to remember his awkward self, so be it. “You can’t touch, big guy; s'on the ground rules”

Derek growls even louder, which makes Stiles’ insides vibrate. Everything feels amplified, smells stronger. Would Derek’s taste get stronger too? A whine escapes from his lips, thinking about testing it out. He wants to lick, to kiss, to suck and bite.


Just great.

It was supposed to be something easy to do. That’s what pamphlets said about health centers. Lying liars who lie. It was supposed to be a big “fuck you” to his heat not plain torture. Not literally because he gets to fuck Derek at least. Sort of. Does it counts when you do it all yourself? The torture is the idea of not being able to touch or mark his skin. It’s driving him crazy. The rhythm of Stiles’ movements get quicker each time a new wave of heat crash over him. The frenzy that pushes his mind into wanting to just come and be knotted is another whole new level of mental distress. In Stiles’ perfect scenario, Derek would take things slowly, make Stiles babble and beg to be fucked and marked. He wants to cry his name out like a prayer and leave no place free of the smell of him and come and them together. But they’re being so impersonal that it’s slowly killing him.

Derek leans near to the pulse point on Stiles’ neck, supporting his forehead there. Stiles stills for a moment before resuming the movement of his hips. He tries to think of a loophole to get around the rules. Something. Anything. His eyes close tightly while his mind tries to break the fact of this just being something professional. They’re not patient and a knotting somewhat-doctor. They’re not. But it doesn’t matter how hard he wishes, they are. His heightened senses flooding with Derek’s everything makes Stiles’ insides twist in a mess of angst and deep desire. The one you can’t shake away. The smell and the sound of skin hitting skin. The moans and whimpers. He can’t handle it. Too much out of his control. Stiles wants to know how Derek does it. How does he stays focused and pretend like this is a nice day in the office with a coffee mug in hand? He wants to know and wants to yell at him for it. But before he can say anything, another growl slips out of Derek’s throat as his hips buck up, slamming in to Stiles. Followed quickly by a surprising, growled out “Mine”, making Stiles gasp and completely stop moving.

And he knows.

Stiles knows how fucked up this is but can’t find a fuck to give. The alpha teeth dragging across the sensitive skin of his collar bones. His tongue caressing the places roughly scraped. A constant rumble on his chest making everything inside Stiles’ vibrate with him. He’s clawing Derek’s shoulders and back while Derek’s hands are on Stiles’ hips, clawing back. A combined loud moan fills the room.

This is wrong and he knows he should stop.

But the sudden urge to make Derek fall apart the same way Stiles is and mark him up so he can’t forget he is his. It’s stronger than anything he ever felt before and it clouds his mind from all reasoning. He starts scenting Derek feverishly. Nosing along his neck, licking and nudging his jaw. Only to suddenly claim Derek’s mouth almost painfully. A clash of fangs, teeth and tongue. The movement of their hips stop, allowing their primal side go. Derek is clearly as intensely affected by all of this, touching every little piece of skin he can - running a hand down Stiles’ back, squeezing his ass, scraping his thighs, scratching his happy trail, pinching his nipples. But never his shaft. Just close enough to make Stiles beg for more. When Derek somehow seems satisfied, he sums up the movement of his hips into deep strokes that draw gasps and moans out of Stiles’ mouth. He can feel something inside himself melt. His wolf side’s ecstastic. Mine. Mine. Take. Mark. Bite. Mark. Scent. Give. Scent. Mine. Mine. He’s not sure when he started, but he can hear his own voice babbling the words out. Wrecked to the core.

A small whimper catches his attention and the next thing he knows, Stiles’ is pinned down on the bed with Derek biting down on his shoulder. Hips stuttering, Stiles feels the swelling of the knot forming in him just as both of them are coming. White lines now covering their bare chests. Stiles can feel joy and pride forming in his chest at the scene. Derek is his and he’s Derek’s. A strange purr comes out of him while scenting Derek’s neck, still holding onto him. He can feel the cloud of arousal dissapearing slowly. The calm and the afterglow turning in to sheer panic.

Oh shit.

How high was he on hormones? He can feel Derek tense slightly under his touch. Derek retracts his fangs looking at the bruise on Stiles’ shoulder. He looks at it too and yeah, that’s definitely a mark that’s never going to leave. Neither physically nor emotionally. Stiles’ face blushes, a small smile tugging at his lips. The same bruised, bitten and parted lips after kissing Derek senseless just moments before. They’re both breathing heavingly. And Derek keeps looking at him, probably in the same way that Stiles is. With awe and surprise. And something fond that make him feel all gooey.

He tentatevely takes one of his hands and cups Derek’s face, who nuzzles into it and relaxes completely. Stiles can feel his heart rate increasing and his insides flip. He wants this forever so much. The soft alpha wolf by his side, nuzzling and cuddling. His other hand slowly traces every feature on Derek’s face. From his eyebrow and the crinkles at the side of his eyes, to his lips and the stubble around it. Every little detail that makes him beautiful. Stiles’ is sure the memory of it all will never leave his mind.

“That wasn’t– We shouldn’t–,” he can hear Derek’s voice crack and go soft before he finishes the sentence. Words dying somewhere along the way between reason and feelings. Warm hands caress Stiles’ side slowly. Derek hides his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck and he can’t avoid the delightful smile that appears on his face.

Everything starts to fall in to place. The tugging in his chest. The jealousy. His wolf going nuts. Even how sappy he is feeling right in this moment. It finally makes sense. It wasn’t normal. That literally wasn’t supposed to happen. Not in such a big world, with so many chances. But what exactly in his life was ever normal? The answer is exactly nothing. And there they were. Making theirs a one in a million case.

He laughs out loud, shaking their bodies with it. Derek rumbles still tucked in Stiles’ neck, making Stiles grin. “Don’t be such a sourwolf.”

Unique and awkward but perfect in their own way.


This was definetely his best worst idea ever.

“Why are your hands purple?”

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time posting fics on here so hopefully it goes well. I wrote this cause I cause it wouldn’t leave me alone after i saw the idea online. These two are just so cute i felt like they needed more fics, all mistakes are mine and I hope you enjoy :)


“Babe are you ready yet?” Kat called out her voice echoing through the apartment.

After putting it off for a month, Adena was finally meeting Jane and Sutton. If Kat was being honest with herself she was incredibly nervous. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Adena to meet her best friends, it’s just that Kat had been extremely happy living in their little bubble. Ever since Adena had been allowed back in the country the two had been spending as much time with each other as possible, both desperate to make up for lost time.

“I’m coming, I’m coming” Adena assured sweeping quickly into the room. Kat turned around from where she was standing by the apartment door only to left speechless by her beautiful girlfriend.

“I…you…” Kat gulped chastising herself for acting like an inarticulate fool. “Babe you look stunning.” Adena blushed as Kat’s eyes continued to rove her body.

“You approve I take it?” She teased the blush fading slowly from her cheeks. Adena had been nervous all week as the evening grew closer. Although she knew that she didn’t need the approval of Kat’s best friends Adena desperately wanted it as it would make her relationship with Kat that much simpler. Her nerves had led to her changing her outfit at least four times in the past half hour as she stated at her closet in frustration as nothing seemed to be just right. She had finally settled on a pair of jeans that she knew Kat loved, something about how it made her legs look, and a cream coloured sweater with a slit up the side. She had decided to wear a pair of simple black flats and her maroon coloured hijab so act as a statement to the rest of the outfit. Adena had felt mildly confident with her choice when looking in the mirror earlier but Kat’s reaction had reassured her that her choices were good ones.

“Like it? Babe you look amazing” Kat assured leaning in to place a soft kiss on Adena’s lips. “You make me feel a little under dressed though” Kat teased, indicating to her own outfit. Adena took a step back and quickly scanned what her girlfriend was wearing, tight jeans with a white tank top and a black leather jacket. Kat smirked as she watched Adena take in her outfit, Kat knew she looked good even if she was a bit more casually dressed than her Girlfriend.

“Well, you’ll do I suppose,” the small smirk Adena wore let Kat know she was being teased.

“Hey!” Kat cried in mock indignation. “Don’t be mean or we’ll see if I do that thing you like when we get home.” Adena’s jaw dropped at the threat, her eyes narrowing in retaliation.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Adena grabbed Kat’s arm and pulled her in close, her hands migrating to Kat’s back pocket.

“I might you never know.” Kat shrugged with a small grin. “But I guess you’ll find out later if we don’t leave now we’re going to be late.” Kat pulled away taking Adena’s hands in her own and placing a soft kiss on her knuckles before pulling back in confusion.

“Babe? Why are your hands Purple?” Kat questioned, confusion evident in her words.

Adena looked at her hands to see the remains of what looked like purple paint dotting the back of her hands. “That’s a very good question” Adena mused, thinking back to what she had been working on earlier that day, chuckling when she figured out what had happened. “I was painting earlier to try and distract myself from obsessing about tonight. It worked for awhile,” Adena smiled “at least until you called. I was so startled that I ended up putting my hand in the paint. I thought I had gotten it all off but I must have missed some.” The light blush covering Adena’s cheeks made Kat swoon.

“Awww are you saying that I made my normally calm, put together girlfriend act like a total spaz?” Kat teased lightly, “Oh man and I wasn’t even there to see it.” The pout on Kat’s face made Adena laugh.

“I don’t know why you are so shocked by this. I’ve lost my composure around you many times, this is not the first.”

“True,” Kat admitted with a grin. “But this is the first time I had you lose composure over something not sex related.” Adena took in the shit eating grin on Kat’s face and decided to even the score.

“Who said it wasn’t? You don’t know what I was thinking about.” Kat’s face creased in confusion.

“I don’t understand.” Adena walked away from Kat grabbing her purse and keys as she opened the door of the apartment.

“I think you looked lovely in your purple lingerie last night and wanted to see if I could capture the look on canvas…I think I was pretty successful.” Kat’s jaw dropped.

“Wait babe, what were you painting?” she called out as Adena walked out the door only to be met with light laughter of her girlfriend as she made her way down the hall.

So hey guys, I’ve been thinking…what if White Diamond doesn’t exist? At least, without the (three) Diamonds we know…FUSED???

Here me out.

(This post turned out quite long, so I’ll put it under the cut)

Also, potential spoilers ahead!

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Coming out||Why don't we||Preference 5

Summary: You have a son and he’s gay



A/n: As someone who is bi, i understand how hard it is to come out sometimes and I also understand what its like to not be expected, Im here for anyone who needs help!

Daniel Seavey- You knew son was gay around the age of six, you and Daniel had been guessing since the age of four when he wanted to go out as a princess for halloween, he didn’t like to play sports with daddy but he liked to shop and go out with momma, he watched disney princess movies and not MTNTs, but it all became clear when he was 7 and you and him where driving in the car on the way home. He had told you that he thought Jonah’s son was pretty. Both you and Daniel had known since then. Your son never realized the two of you had caught on because at the age of 16 he came out to both of you and told you he had a boyfriend, it was Jonah’s son.

That night when you and Daniel crawled into bed you both had smiles on your face, your son was out, in love and happy and thats all you wanted for him.

“I won, you owe me 20 dollars” You said causing him to snort.

“I knew this day would come, a bet is a bet” You added with a small chuckle on the side.

“I can’t believe you bet on our son being gay” He laughed bringing you into his arms.

“I didnt! I bet that him and Ashton(Jonahs son) would get together"You said. After a ten year bet you finally won, but you would have won anyways knowing your son was happy.

Jack Avery- The day your son came out was the most shocking day of your life. Not because you cared that he was gay, but because you two never saw it coming. When you were a teenager you had a gay guy best friend and although you knew that not every gay guy acted the same way the way your son acted was nothing like now your best friend had acted. Your son was the star on the basketball team(Jack was always so proud of him), you had never expected this to happen but when he had told you that he had a boyfriend both you or Jack couldn’t have been happier for him and invited  him for dinner the next day.

"Mom, dad, this is Jake” Your son smiled as a coloured boy around your sons age(17) walked in with a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand and a smile on his face.

“Jake this is my mom y/n and my dad Jack"your son smiled as the boy hand you the flowers and stuck out his hand for Jack.

"Its nice to meet you Mr.Avery”

Jonah Marias- The day you found out your son was gay wasn’t the day you were supposed to find out. You and Jonah had gone out to a grown ups dinner out with the boys and their wives, leaving your 17 year old son at home alone. You hadn’t been feeling well so Jonah took you home early, when the two of you had gotten home you asked Jonah to make you some tea while you went to change and tell your son you were home. After changing into some pjs you you walked across the hall and opened the door to your sons room only to see him laying on top  and kissing his best friend Tanner.

“Oh my god I’m sorry” You said shocked before grabbing the door handle and running out of the room. You walked downstairs your eyes wide as you met Jonah back in the kitchen.

“Um Jonah, I think our son is gay” You chuckled walking over to him and laying your head on his chest.

“What makes you say that?” He laughed, kissing the top of your head.

“Well, I just walked in on him and-” You had started but were quickly cut off by tanner rushing out of your house, his cheeks red.

You sat your son down that night and talked to him about it all, you were both so supportive and extremely proud of your son.

Zach Herron- The day your son came out was hectic to say the least. You saw the fear in sons eyes as he sat you and Zach down in the dinning room, you could see him visibly shaking. You almost feared the words coming out of his his mouth, your son was eighteen and thats when you and Zach started having sex, had he gotten a girl pregnant?

“Mom, dad theres something I need to tell you” He whispered not meeting either of your eyes.

“No matter what you say it won’t change our love for you honey” you said reaching across the table and grabbing his hand causing him to look up while Zach just nodded in response.

“Im gay” he whispered, it took you a second but a smile fell on your face quickly.

“So no one’s pregnant?” you asked causing him to chuckle and shake his head but his smile dropped once he was met with his dads eyes. Turning your head to look at your husband of 20 years your face also turned into a frown when you saw the look of anger spread across his face.

“How do you know?” Zach spit out, causing both of you to be taken back.

“I -I have a boyfriend” He whispered, feeling ashamed of himself.

You and Zach had never had the conversation “what if our child is gay” talk, but you grew up with a gay brother and Zach had never said anything about it, you just assumed he was as opening and welcoming to the idea as you were. But Zach had been born and raised in Texas and you knew that not everyone there was as supportive as some other states were.

“Honey, why don’t you go and wash up before we go out to dinner” You smiled as you looked at your son, his head dropped but his frown still visible. Nodding his head without even looking up he leaves the dinner table, leaving you angry at your husband.

“Zach Dean Herron, I don’t know whats going on through your mind but our son just shared something huge with us and you hurt him. We are going out to dinner and when we get home you better have a different mind set or you can call Jonah for a place to sleep” You snapped, standing up and leaving Zach there alone, his fists still clenched and his face and his little less red.

Corbyn Besson- The day your 19 year old son came out to you had started off like any normal day. You and Corbyn were in the kitchen cooking and talking about old times with him and the band, you all were getting together at Jack’s tomorrow for a dinner, you hadn’t seen all the boys and their families in 3 weeks and you all missed them deeply.

You were chopping vegetables when your son walked through the door, a boy walking beside him, both with huge smiles on both their faces.

“Mom, dad, this is my boyfriend Thomas” He blurted out of the blue, intertwining his hands with the other boys. You dropped the knife as a huge smile spread on your face, rushing over to hug both boys in front of you, you had been waiting for this for 3 years now and the time had finally come. Smiling as you pulled away, both your son and you looked at Corbyn with a shocked face.

“I like your shoes” He smiled, walking over and shaking the boys hand causing you to laugh along with your son. Corbyn supported your son, but he was a little awkward about it and bringing up shoes was the only way he could show he supported your son without getting all mushy and gushy about it. All and all both of you were happy as long as your son was happy.

anonymous asked:

i was watching that ep with derek's mugshot and i think it says that his eye colour is brown. like ????? i mean the shot is very blurry and not clear but the letters match that of his "hair colour" which is brown. so i'm guessing it says brown. what even? have they not met tyler hoechlin or....? have i missed something? don't tell me tyler was wearing brown contacts and i just didn't notice?? O_O

I just went back and squinted at the image, and I’m pretty sure you’re right on both counts (his hair and eyes both being listed as brown). Hoech definitely doesn’t wear contacts for the show, but I’m not surprised the report says that. We know how bad the props/documents are in the show and how little effort the team puts into them.

But honestly… this might be a rare case where the bad props are kind of accurate to real life. Official documents can be really inaccurate about things like that –– especially if the person has hazel eyes. Try googling Hoechlin’s eye color and you’ll see a ton of sites saying they’re green (so much so that I have a feeling that’s what’s on his actual driver’s license/official info) even though they’re visibly multihued/hazel (potentially central heterochromia? [And if it is central heterochromia I suppose they could be considered green because I think people tend to refer to the eyes as the outer ring color in that case… but that’s another story]).

Hazel/multihued eyes just stump people. I can totally see an officer squinting at Derek’s eyes and thinking “they’re kinda greenish…blueish. Kinda… brownish? Sure, brownish, why not.” And just punching that in.

The more baffling thing is the hair color being listed as brown and not black. But for that we can just bounce right back to “bad props team” explanation.

spraain  asked:

I just wanted to say I love your writing! Do you think you could write a KageHina fan fiction based of your username? If you have time please do 😂

“Kageyama I swear, I fell asleep for like…two minutes, tops, and when I woke up they were just gone. Like that. Poof, into thin air.” 

Kageyama scrubs a hand over his face, and sighs.

“You’re telling me,” he says, and he’s trying to be calm about it all, he is, but his jaw is already aching from the grind of his teeth and his forehead hurts from all the frowning, “that someone stole your shoes, right off your feet, and you didn’t even notice?” 

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anonymous asked:

I don't know if you're taking prompts right now, but if you are could you please do something for "I've wanted this - I've wanted /you/ - for a long time now." I loooove your writing and I'd be excited to see how what you did with this!

 Thank you, anon! I hope this is what you wanted. :-)

Their first mission together after Harry’s return to Kingsman is a disaster from start to finish. The company jet develops mechanical issues, so they’re forced to take a commercial flight to Athens. That plane is delayed for two hours and they miss their connecting flight, and they’re both in a bad mood by the time they finally arrive at their hotel. 

For three weeks they do their best, but their target never shows. They bribe, cajole, wheedle, steal, and even threaten people, but in the end they have to accept the inevitable. Their chemical weapons engineer, the one who’s supposed to be here to sell his latest and greatest new product, simply isn’t coming. 

At least they get to go home in relative comfort. While they wait for the news that the Kingsman jet has arrived at the airport, they pack up in the hotel and get ready to check out. Harry takes care with his new suits, layering them in the garment bag he has draped across the bed. 

In front of the other bed, Eggsy zips up his suitcase with a little flourish. He sets it on the floor, drops the handle back into its slot, and says, “I know I’m supposed to be pissed off that we didn’t get our man, but honestly?” He looks up at Harry. “This has really been great.” He grins. 

A bit astonished by this, Harry doesn’t say anything. 

Fortunately, Eggsy doesn’t seem to have expected an answer. He goes on talking. “I mean, I’ve wanted this for a really long time.“ 

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#helpless (hamilton, a writeup)

okay so tl;dr? i cried. i frickin sat there with two teardrops rolling down my face and chin and neck and i couldn’t frickin wipe it away because i was so invested (and also i didn’t want to ruin my makeup) and it was just. it was so good guys. so good.

gushing about the staging under the cut

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Anders’s Manifesto

Fenris/f!Hawke, 1549 words, sfw. I know, I know, it’s been done to death, but I had to explore the ideological divide between those two. Bittersweet and funny, at least, or so I’d like to think.

“Is that—Anders’s manifesto? You of all people have read Anders’s manifesto?”

Fenris’s gaze is dark when Hawke looks up from the pamphlet. “Have you?”

“You know I don’t read anything unless there are dragons in it,” she answers, flipping through the pages. No need, really—she knows the gist of it well enough by now. The Maker-damned thing has been left lying around often enough for her to recognise it without even having to read the title, written in commanding type with Varric’s printing blocks. “Is it just to better counter his arguments the next time the topic of mage rights comes up?”

The set of his jaw hardens in answer to the amusement that seeps into her voice. “He’s possessed. He cannot be reasoned with.”

“Ah, so then it’s to reason with me.”

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Written for the bagginshield anniversary :)

“Do you remember the day we met?” Bilbo asks, propping himself up on one elbow, fond smile on his face as he looks down at his husband. There’s a rather becoming flush on Thorin’s cheeks still, though their breathing has finally returned to normal, and his bare chest looks so lovely in the firelight that Bilbo can’t help but trace absent patterns across it with reverent fingers.

Thorin smiles, and Bilbo kisses the crinkles by his eyes because he can.

“I do,” Thorin answers, large hand playing the knobs of Bilbo’s spine like a harp, “I was rather… frustrated by how lovely you were.”

Bilbo pulls back with a frown, “Lovely? Thorin, you do realise I was there, don’t you? You called me a grocer!”

Thorin does, at least, have the grace to look a little ashamed, “Yes. Dwalin still laughs at me about that.”

“Laughs at you?”

Thorin sighs, “I am not always so rude to respectable hobbits, you know. He was well aware of the effect you had on me, even if the others were not.”

The colour on his cheeks is brighter now than it was before, and it seeps down and across his chest in a way that Bilbo would find dangerously endearing if he weren’t busy blinking in surprise.

“I – effect? Thorin, I love you dearly, but even you cannot deny that our first few months of acquaintance were rocky at best.”

Thorin hums in acknowledgment, eyes falling to watch as his own free hand comes up to cover Bilbo’s, “I did not know you then as I do now, and I admittedly did not think you were suited to our quest,” Bilbo scoffs and Thorin’s eyes meet his again with a shy smile, “But I thought you a fine thing, even then.”

Sometimes, the way Thorin looks at him makes Bilbo’s breath catch in his throat and his heart feel like it could fly. He looks at Bilbo like he can’t believe he’s there, and Bilbo has to claim another kiss before he crumbles under the weight of it.

“I suppose I thought you quite handsome,” Bilbo smiles against the king’s lips, “For such a self-important, overly serious, arrogant – ”

Bilbo yelps out a surprised laugh as Thorin, grinning, pushes him back into the bed and leans over him until his dark hair trails across Bilbo’s shoulders like silk.

“Insolent hobbit,” he admonishes, kissing the laughter from Bilbo’s lips again and again and again.

They’re smiling like a pair of fauntlings by the time they finally pull away, Thorin letting his forehead rest against Bilbo’s.

“Why did you ask, ghivashel?” Thorin murmurs, leaning back just enough to see Bilbo’s face, “About the day we met. Did you think I could forget it?”

“No, it’s just…” Bilbo smiles, twisting the marriage braid in Thorin’s hair around his finger. It’s only a few hours old and Bilbo lifts the bead at the end to his lips, “Here we are.”

Thorin reaches down to press a kiss upon Bilbo’s own marriage bead and when their eyes meet again, Thorin looks as awed as Bilbo feels. “Yes,” he breathes, eyes shining with more than just firelight, “Here we are.”

so it’s no news that an infuriated debate is surrounding iron fist. i’m not gonna get into that here. i will, however, offer my pov on what makes it a better show than we’ve been reading in the past ten days or so. contains spoilers:

  • it’s a feel good show with a light-heartedness to it. daredevil, jessica jones and luke cage were pretty dark and socially/politically charged on a level, iron fist really isn’t asking to point you the way to anything. danny is extremely traumatized but the writing won’t allow it to weigh on your shoulders thanks to the innocence that’s also inherent to the character and often paints him as a most unlikely hero. you might feel for him (if you have a heart, i guess) but once you’ve closed your netflix tab you’ll probably just be as hopeful as he is or forget about his problems altogether. i’m not sure i’d have watched daredevil with my younger brother, but i’d surely watch this one with him.
  • danny rand’s story is one of loss, trauma and even rejection that i’m sure can resonate with many people even though they never punched a dragon. anyone danny’s age (or even not) can definitely feel like they don’t belong, and maybe i’m overreading but the fact that he can’t always control his titular fist feels like an allegory of how all of us often can’t or won’t find our own energy and strengths to get ourselves out of a bad place.
  • it’s been argued that danny lacks charisma and generally the quality of a hero. it’s true, but that’s because the narrative wants him to. he’s a boy who has no idea who he is or what he’s doing, although he might sometimes think he does. his naivete is the point of the character and while he can also be problematic those aspects of him are never celebrated. i don’t know how that’s going to evolve in other seasons/shows, but season 1 danny is no hero because he’s not supposed to be. to be quite honest, if critics didn’t get that i have no idea how to help them.
  • to offer some support to what i just said: there are scenes in which characters flat out tell danny he’s “the worst iron fist ever” and a pretty underwhelming fighter (i’m using kinder words than those that were actually uttered). he’s repeatedly called out on his shit and kept at arm’s length, his ability to be the iron fist is openly questioned and no one ever restrains from pointing out he really isn’t the sharpest pencil.
  • there are five women on the show, and they pretty much to various extent carry it by moving the plot forward. take joy: she could have been the good sister to the bad brother but she helped danny regain his place in the company because it was the right thing to do and then single-handedly kept three asses in it when they were voted out. jeri showed a more human side to her character while also being a boss ass bitch against the meachums, not to mention she took way less than half of new york combined to figure out whether danny was actually whom he claimed to be or not. now, the three women of colour then deserve a bullet point each. 
  • colleen is a wonderful character. resourceful and independent, like danny she’s long been a little detached from the world (namely left in japan with her grandfather) and can feel like a fish out of water. she’s young and idealistic but also way more experienced and mature than danny, which makes them both a sweet, even touching pair and a not-so-ideal match (claire’s words, more or less). with her great fighting skills and her complexity she’s rightly considered the highlight of this show. 
  • claire is too cool for me to describe so i’ll just say she keeps being wonderful and offering a refreshing, grounded point of view to the craziness that surrounds her. sweet christmas!
  • madame gao is a force of nature. she’ll just stand (or sit) there and offer serafic words of wisdom and even when put in a corner she’ll be the most powerful person in the room. her ability to mess with people’s head by simply spilling uncomfortable truth makes her frightening because really is there an enemy more dangerous than some part of us we don’t want to face? and, well, obviously she’s one hell of a criminal mastermind. i haven’t been this terrified since fisk and she barely raised an eyebrow this whole season.
  • when finn jones said this was the most diverse show in the marvel/netflix universe many might have laughed out loud, but turns out he was right. there are episodes in the back half of the season, especially towards the end, where he is pretty much the only white character around. 
  • i’m very excited about davos. his position and motivations are understandable and i like that he’s not a villain born but he’s coming from a place of love and loyalty. this, along with the fact that he wanted and felt more deserving to be the iron fist, really makes for a compelling opponent. i’m not sure where this alliance with joy is going, but i can’t wait to find out.
Special encounter II Pt. 1

very first fanfic. please be nice~

It happened how every impossibilty began. As the most beautiful lazy day. Warm weather, lots of people and the most special encounter you ever had inside a changing room. The idol you and your best friend had always dreamed about standing right beside you watching as you just changed into some black lace lingerie. Panic in his eyes as you decided to help him escape.

Originally posted by yoonmin

word count: 3.5k

genre: angst/fluff (???)

“Okay, y/n, this is absolutely horrible! If they see you in this they might just call the security”, Ann, your longest and naughtiest friend told you as you turned around showing her your choice for the upcoming event you were certainly nervous about. You both were running from one shop to the next in finding a matching outfit that would suit your taste. Unfortunately you haven’t found one piece of clothing to wear and with every new turn you took in the shop’s mirror the frustration in you grew. You was looking for new underwear but most importantly for an outfit to wear as you and your best friend was attending a fansign. Well as time flew by hopelessness found its way inside your head, too. Why would you even buy new clothes for such an event? You had plenty acceptable things that matched you even better than everything you had put on all day so why wasting your time?

“Ahh Ann it is impossible for me to fit in those little things you show me!”, your voice was a little gruff as you turned around to see how Ann waved just a small piece of black lingerie in front of her. She wiggled her eyebrows and winked as she pushed you back into the changing room.

“Honey”, she started as she began to close the curtain of your large booth, “If you don’t find anything today I’m going to chop your head off. We ran since this morning and to be honest I’m losing my patience.” You heard the exhausting exhale she took and felt a little sting in your chest.

“I’m sorry”, was all you said as you remembered that she should at least try to be a voluntary help.

You both had been friend for nearly ten years. Through thick and thin was just another level because this saying had other dimensions in your relationship. As you were always a loyal and caring friend of hers she often did things that could have ended your long-lasting relationship years ago. In school you two were inseparable, always looking for a little trouble that most certainly originated from her side. How often you were called in the principals office. You had lost count to be pretty honest. It was a funny time you had before Ann and you hit puberty. As she grew up to be more and more rebellious you tried to be the calm friend who always carried her out of her problems what seemed to be impossible. One night at the age of fifteen Ann forced you to your first party ever. So far so good until Ann told you her plans. She stole weed from her older sister and as she took it right at the party it escalated quickly. Not that you two were the only minors but the guys were way to into Ann especially after she was  baked like a cake. You lost sight of her as you made your way back to were you two had been after a quick call you gave your parents. The state you found her in was one you often had nightmares about. Ann laughing and crying like shit at the same time as she was fucked by a drunk guy on the balcony of the house. Blood ran down her legs but she did not mind. The only choice you had was to overwhelm the pervert so you grabbed an empty bottle that lay on the floor and hit him so hard he tumbled and lastly collapsed at your feet. After this incident Ann spoke no word to you for weeks. She was embarrassed of herself and about what she had done to her holy virginity. This information was presented to you nearly two years after what happened but the shivers never left you because she was so dear to you. Sure thing this was one of your most horrible evenings ever until you two were in your second year of High School. Love was just something you experienced. As you can predict it was Ann who your first boyfriend cheated with and after that your friendship was clearly ruined. Time flew by and after hours of discussions you two were as close as before. Ann´s antics grew with every year and today as you both were now twenty she had half of the boys´population of the college you visited together. But closing your eyes to such things became a habit of yours and right now you did not really care as long as you had your peace. And this is why you chose her to accompany you as you looked for sexy underwear and an outfit for the occasion tomorrow you and Ann would visit.

You inspected the little panties as well as the dessous Ann had chosen to put you in. The last hours you were the one to pick out the clothes. As these were just disappointments Ann took the sails in her own hand. They were beautiful yes but your mind was telling you that all the lace was just not you.

To your surprise it fit really well. From the black lace dessous to the garter belt. You felt quite nice in it and a little smile sneaked to your face. Maybe this was what you could compromise yourself about. Missing was just a cute pullover or top and your day was saved.

“Ann!”, you shouted.

No response. Wasn’t she at her place right in front of your changing room? Your eyebrows pulled up you discovered that she was not were she was a few minutes ago. Had it taken so long for you to put these on?, you thought. Eyes scanning the room you found her at the cashier´s side.

Was she for real?

You gesticulated for her to return but she shook her head. Her mouth formed a ‘Just change’, before she gave her full attention to the tall guy in front of her.

A small laugh escaped your mouth as you shook your head as well. She was unpredictable, seriously, she texted you right as you began to open your bra.

‘Guess it was a success, Honey. Now change and we look for the rest tomorrow. This cutie is buying drinks tonight so I have to go. Love ya, Honey’, was what she send you. One last look outside the booth you saw as she waved seductively at the guy behind the cash out. She was leaving for real. Sometimes you were annoyed but as you had what you wanted it was okay.

A short while you just stood there again contemplating if you would buy those or just leave it as you usually would. But you were torn out of your thoughts as a dark figure slipped into the small room of yours. A shriek got stuck in your throat as the stranger pressed a hand onto your mouth.

“Please just be quiet!”

Panic rushed over you. What was going on? Did nobody see that someone just came in your changing room? What was the guy behind the counter doing?

“Ahh please! I don´t want anything from you. I’m just fucking hiding”, he repeated.

Should you kick him in his weak spots? Or was the desperation in his voice holding you back? Why weren´t you moving?

Just then realisation took over your features as the man turned his head in your direction. Black hair framing a lightly tanned face with almond-shaped, dark eyes that you so knew like your own. Not even the black mask could hide that you knew were plump red lips.

It was not anybody who was holding you right at this moment. No, it was someone you admired for years. Someone who you were supposed to meet tomorrow. Nobody else but Park Jimin was standing next to you. The idol of one of your favourite groups. Park Jimin had his hand around your mouth standing so fucking close to you. Not anybody was just hiding in your changing room, no. It was Park Jimin. Your head started to spin so much that at that time you even forgot that you were only wearing a permissive and light bra and lace panties.

“God, I’m so freaking sorry!”

His voice. In your panic you did not recognize it but as you knew who you were standing next to it hit you again. How could you not hear the melodic tone of his angelic voice? You called yourself his admirer? Pathetic.

“This is so embarrassing. I just don’t want these freaks to find me”, Jimin’s voice trailed off as he looked at you for the first time. Just then he pulled away from you. “Sorry, so sorry!”

A whisper nothing more was heard as he tried to cover his eyes. His cheeks turned a shade darker than usually as he swallowed hard. How was this situation possible? Why was he the one hiding in a changing room with a girl who wore nothing more than underwear and looked so fucking good? He cursed himself for being so stupid to run into the next thing he might have a chance to hide from those ‘fans’ whom chased him for hours already.

Shook you also looked at him. What were you supposed to do in such a situation?

The first thing you thought about was covering yourself with something. The next one was just a quiet whisper. “I-it’s okay. I know who you are so it’s okay.”

In slow motion he lowered his hand and watched as colour flushed your cheeks as well.

“Please just let me hide for a bit. I will be gone in no time, I promise!”, his desperate voice trailed around in the now way too small booth.

A hasty nod was all you could bring yourself to. Flustered was not a word for how fast your heart was beating. You were afraid that he might hear it because of the small distance that separated the two of you. His smell ensnared around you like a bonfire. The sweet but virile fragrance of his cologne filled the booth at no time. You caught yourself getting a little closer to the idol next to you. How could someone smell so intoxicating? Closing your eyes was a good idea because now you had the chance to think straight for a short while.

Wasn’t it better for him if he stayed here and you looked for those ‘fans’? Was that too much? Or would it be better if-

“I’m feeling like a pervert for comig inside your booth”, the man next to you whispered again. He seemed to be even more bothered by this situation than you and at that time your thoughts clouded.

You inhaled deeply before speaking. “Listen. Turn around I will change. Then I’m going to look for a way to get out of here. Just stay put and don´t feel like a pervert.”

To your surprise your voice sounded calm and confident. Proud of yourself you turned around to grab your clothes. As you did Jimin looked in the opposite direction of you.

“If I say you can come out you should ready yourself to run, understand?”, you said now ready to leave. Putting on your shoes you heard as a group of people screamed outside your changing room.

“Fuck..”, Jimin exhaled. You could hear that it was not normal for a celebrity to be afraid of his fans.

Determined you got out of your comfort zone and put your hands on the mans shoulders to turn him around. He was one head taller than you why you had to look up to see that he also looked at you. At this non existing distance you could see that his eyes really had the colour of the darkest brown like the dark chocolate you so loved. His fragrance was surrounding you again and at that point you could not think straight. Had you ever been so attracted to someone? Because at this exact moment you thought about kissing him right then and there if he would have been a normal human. Someone who whose face was not present on TV or on posters everywhere. But then you would not be any better than the crazy freaks he tried to hide from.

He coughed slightly and avoided his gaze as time started to run again. Even more blood rushed to both of your cheeks as you stood there your hands still on the mans shoulders.

“Thank you.” A light shiver ran down your spine at the situation you brought yourself into.

Adjusting your clothes a last time you pushed Park Jimin a little more inside the room. A last short view on the beautiful most stunning man and the guy of your late night sessions you turned around to sneak a glance through an opening of the shop’s curtain.

A small amount of people stood at the entrance of the shop. Maybe eight or nine girls furiously looking around for the man you were hiding behind yourself.

Before you could step out a hand held you back.

“You shouldn’t do this. They are freaks. If they see that you actually helped me they will go wild”, Park Jimin said in a low tone. His furrowed brows showed that he was really worried. No wonder he was told to have one of the hugest hearts on earth.

An encouraging smile appeared on your face. “Just stay in there. I’m doing fine. So no worries and let me handle it.”

With that you stormed out.

The girls seemed not to notice as you walked around them to let out a loud scream: “Oh my god! Isn’t that Park Jimin?”

All heads turned in your direction a girl came rushing to you. Her small hands held your arms harder than you thought.

“Where? Where did you see him? Spit it!”

Inside you were shocked but on the outside you just pointed a finger in the opposite direction of the shop.

“He ran down this alley. We should hurry!” You used the word ‘we’ to seem not as suspicious as the girls watched you. With a final gaze in your way they began to jump and run.

You waited a second until you could not see them any more before you rushed into the store again.

“GO!”, you shouted as you pulled the curtain in one go.

Wide brown eyes starred at you. Just then Park Jimin realized that it was you and not one of these annoying ‘fans’ that stood in front of him. And he could swear he had never seen someone as beautiful as you were. Flushed cheeks, heavy breathing, eyes full of determination and care. Slowly he stood up from the seat he had taken to go to the edge of the booth. He looked around to find nobody else but you and a pretty distracted cashier.

“Park Jimin, if you don’t hurry they might realize that I lied and come back”, you reminded him and pulled his sleeve as he did not move.

But this moment seemed to be going too slow because you could hear them. The running steps of a group of even more furious girls than a while ago. How the hell were they so fast?

“Well you fuc-”

You ran. His hand closing around your own. His trained body in front of you running out of the shop to the right side. Surprised you sped up trying to catch up with his large steps. At a corner you took another turn and another till you heard as the loud steps got quieter until nothing was heard any more.

You looked around exhausted from running to see that you had lost orientation. Jimin was leaning against a brick wall next to you. It seemed to be an alleyway outside of the mass of people. The silence around you was disturbed by both your heavy breathing. Your eyes flew to the idol who had closed his eyes chest heaving fast. A while you just stood there looking at the guy you had just met. Right now you had the chance to see that his face was red and sweaty from all the running you had to do. His expansive clothes were drenched so that the dark long sleeve stuck to his chest. His light blue ripped jeans were tight around his thighs and his black boots completed the simple outfit that looked so fucking amazing on him.

“I couldn’t leave you as the wolves came”, he finally said as he opened his brown eyes to look straight into yours. The heat increased in your cheeks while you tried to hold his gaze.

“At least you are save now”, you answered in a heavy whisper.

If it was not for the jog you just did it had to be the man in front of you who set your heart racing.

The first time since you met his plump lips turned into a smile. His eyes crinkled and a nearly unnoticeable dimple appeared on his fluffy cheek. After all this he could look so stunning, you thought as you nervously adjusted your drenched pullover.

Jimin took a few steps in on you until he stood just a few centimetres away from you. Your head was turned at your shoes because your face heated as he was this close to you. Even now your head was spinning with questions and curses directed to your destiny.

“I should thank you properly so mind if my saviour would tell me her name?”, Jimin’s voice was heard so gentle it melted the last bit of your already damaged sanity around him.

You began to stutter: “Y-y/n..”

“Sounds beautiful, y/n”, he smiled as his left hand got lost inside his pocket. “Then I have to thank you, y/n! Alone I would have been gone crazy to be honest.” Jimin laughed a little nervous as he told you thinking that he was incompetent. He was so flustered and embarrassed not just as he thought about his situation but about the incident how he found you. Half naked looking so damn good. “I have lost sight of my manager and I just did not know what to do.. And I have to apologize that I disturbed you like the biggest pervert on earth.”

A grin sneaked at the corners of your mouth.

“To be honest I was so embarrassed but I totally understand what you meant as you said that they are crazy”, you slightly laughed.

“Yeah, well.. I guess I have to go. Practise and so on..”

Scratching his neck he pulled his hand out of his pocket to give you some money. Confused you stared at him then at the amount of money he offered you.

“Uhm.. I..”, he stuttered, “This is for a cab. We are pretty far from any public transportations so it is fair to give you at least this little money. Not just as thanks but for your safety.”

The slight laugh turned into a more loud one as you looked at his flushed face avoiding your stare.

“Thanks but I only take the money for the cab.”

Panic took over him. “N-no! You have to take it. I feel so bad for ruining your day!”

“I hope you get home save. And no problem for today. It was quiet some fun to be honest. Meeting an idol, escaping and being peeked on. All in one day is pretty awesome.” A sudden adrenalin boost let you say those things while taking a few steps back.

Jimin seemed a little shook but started to grin at you as you took the money for the cab and turned around.

“Guess this is goodbye, y/n. Maybe we see each other some other time and not in a rush like this”, he shouted after you.

“We’ll see”, you turned around before you reached the corner and found a cab that brought you back to your dorm.

This day, and that was for sure, began very slow but in the end you thanked Ann for dragging you in this shop and for forcing you to stay all alone. Because right now all other thoughts were clouded with the image of this ethereal man that you helped to escape from a horde of freaks. And, as you sat in that car back to your house, you were quiet proud that you had not fainted at the sight of Park Jimin.

Welp, @coldsaturn convinced me to post this… ;; It’s only a half thought-up ficlet, written for my friend. I wrote it on my phone, so there might be some autocorrect/swype/typing mistakes. It also ends abruptly because this wasn’t meant to be really read by anybody but my friend (though now my sister has read it too). I might add to it later, I don’t know. We shall see. DAV has my priority right now. This is just how the scene on the bus on the way to Baltimore played out in my head.

Characters: Wymack, the Foxes (except Neil), Abby (very briefly).

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anonymous asked:

If Ketch's new orders are to eliminate the Americans hunters, then she's going to have to kill Mary, and they have a thing even if they say they don't have a thing, Ketch it's, actually, the one who looked like he knew about the thing but was too insecure or oblivious about it to tell her anything. It'd be... i DONT know, if that's the case I hope Mary kills him before

I’m not really sure I understand what you mean there, but yes, I do agree that Ketch and Mary are having very different reactions to their (unforeseen) night of fun. I think that episode revealed a lot about who Ketch is and what he wants, but, since this is Buckleming, I’m not sure it was intentional, and how seriously should we take it. For instance, we now know with some certainty that Ketch is colour-blind, in a sense - that when we’ve seen him being rude to women, it wasn’t about them being women, per se - Ketch seems to operate in a world where the only people worthy of respect are those who do his job, and do it well. And, even more unusual, he doesn’t seem to mind if someone - even an outsider like Mary - is better than him. When she corrects him in front of Mick, who, after all, is supposed to be his boss, telling him they’ve killed eight shape-shifters, and not seven, Ketch is not annoyed in the least. Instead, he’s admirative. Considering he’s an alpha male who kills and tortures people for a living, this tells us a great deal about how his mind works.

(Mary’s attitude in that scene tells us a lot about her as well - here she is, the failed daughter, the failed wife and the failed mother, doing the only thing she knows how to do and doing it whit a proud smile on her face. I’d say there is a parallel with Dean in there somewhere, Daddy’s blunt instrument and all that, but I’m not sure it’d be appropriate - after all, we know Dean wants out, in some way; that he doesn’t want to be that person, never has. Mary, on the other hand - despite her insistence in pointing out she can ‘have it all’ is not, in fact, having it all. Whatever she says, she’s deliberately chosen hunting and killing over her sons, and she’s having a whale of a time. This is not a moral judgement: I’m simply trying to understand the character.)

Like - when Ketch was talking to Dean, he never showed his hand at all, in a way. But when Mary told him she once left hunting behind because she wanted a normal life, David does an excellent job to convey what would be pity on someone else’s face and is, instead, a kind of half empathy on Ketch’s. I have this feeling that while he was trying to make Dean his (if not sexually, than professionally, even if the subtext supported both readings), here Ketch is acknowledging he himself belongs to Mary. In that whole scene, he behaves like a subordinate - flattering without being unctuous, polite without being distant. And when he says out right that he understands and respects her unusual and ‘unwomanly’ choices (“Mrs Winchester, I believe you’re drawn to danger.”) - I believe that’s when something inside Mary woke up and decided that, after all, why not? They’re adults, and they’ve got a room, and look at this gorgeous man. In a way, he is to Mary what Crowley was to Dean - a bad influence, sure, but also genuinely attached to her within the limits of his capability to feel anything, and also non judgemental in any way and completely hers.

(In fact, I can see Drowley beginning in very much the same way during that ‘summer of love’ Dean and Crowley shared: I have no problem whatsoever in seeing this exact scene play out - Crowley offering Dean a drink in this same amused, friendly, slightly subservient way, and Dean suddenly ignoring the glass and catching Crowley’s tie in his hand instead; and pulling.)

The thing with men, though, is that - and it could be cultural, or biological - I really don’t know - very often they assume sex will change things. Since sex enpowers them but sullies you, you sometimes meet this power shifting attitude - as the old movies told us in greatest detail, women have control over men as long as they don’t sleep with them; but once the deed is done, the thing is reversed, because, as I said, sex makes men stronger and women weaker.

(Exposed to the dangers of gossip and pregnancy, that is; cheaper and dirty now their virginity is gone.)

As idiotic as this concept is, it somehow persists and lasts, and I think you could see it unfolding in this last episode as well: how Ketch’s careful politeness changes to a sort of cockiness - look at him, sitting up against the headboard, completely naked, his legs open, his penis (still this ever-important sign of masculinity and power and all things sacred) in full display. Contrast him with Mary, already dressing, as if hiding her own nudity, and slowly putting her wedding ring back on like some sinful adulteress. But next, and, okay, for once they wrote an interesting thing, the relationship between them is reversed. Ketch tries to be dominant and mark some kind of point, and Mary shoots him down every time. Having sex was her decision, not his; she’s now deciding it doesn’t mean anything, and he doesn’t have any say in that; and when Ketch confesses, with some regret, that he’s okay with it because he’s not ‘built’ for that and he’s not, in fact, capable to care for other people, just like her, Mary’s almost needlessly petty in pointing out that, again, he’s wrong, because she can, and she did - with someone else, that is, and certainly not him. At that point - and, again, I like how David played this, because he tried to cover himself at first, closing his arms across his chest, but then he sort of - manned up, so to say, and got all alpha again, choosing to remain there stark naked despite Mary’s word and even playing a card he knew would upset her: “I notice you took my advice. You had a choice to make - your work or family ties…”. Ketch doesn’t finish his sentence, but he doesn’t have to. Mary may be a strong woman, and also an unusual one, but she knows her relationship with her sons is far from perfect, and also that she’s a big part of the reason why. Hearing Ketch pointing it out - yeah, that must have smarted a bit - and, again, instead of being a ‘good’ woman and take the criticism, Mary lashes out and defends herself. And this is when Ketch finally takes a step back, because this is the kind of people he’s been trained (or trained himself) to respect: a bigger alpha.

So, really, I don’t know how to read this whole thing. I think it’s a big character shift for Ketch and almost invalidates the idea he’s a psychopath, but, then again, psychopaths are hard to write, so there’s that as well. I still don’t know what to make of Mary, and if I like her as a person (I do like her as a character, though - good choices all around). And, finally, I can’t help but feel that, if you took their relationship and that entire dialogue and gender-bended it, well, here you go - Buckleming did manage to insert their usual bit of dubcon, and yay, because look at it - Mary’s clearly superior to Ketch in most ways (professionally and, very clearly, emotionally), so if this was Mark Winchester seducing wide-eyed, damaged and vulnerable assassin Ms Ketch, who calls him Mr Winchester and hopes sex will lead to something more even if, sadly, she’s not sure she can ever love anyone - yep. They never disappoint, do they?

anonymous asked:

i'm curious what story of sana's people want telling? she is a norwegian teenager and yes she is muslim which is important to her identity but /i/ personally can't see how you should/ could make that part of the story line (i'm not saying it's not possible i just don't know) ?? i feel like skam is about seeing things through one persons eyes and we are seeing that? it's not about having a separate story for a character it's seeing one story through another perspective (cont.)

(cont.) i don’t agree that sana’s story is affected greatly by isak and even holding hands. i understand that a lot of ppl watching have concentrating a lot on that which is stupid but it seems like some ppl think julie did that on purpose to take away from sana??? wrong in my opinion. sana is a very selfless character and we see her getting hurt bc of her love for friends and her vulnerability bc of that and i think it’s being shown very well. (cont.)

(cont.) i hope you see this as healthy discussion/discourse not as hate or me trying to say anyone is wrong, i just want to understand if i’m missing something? and also i’m only sending /you/ these messages bc i saw you reblogged a post about fans glossing over sana’s story and similar

The thing is that it’s taking all the focus away from Sana. The evak holding hands scene for example. I mean there’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s the fact that it’s taking the focus away from Sana, who is the main character. It’s taking all the attention away from Sana’s pain, which (in this clip) should be the main focus. 

It’s like with Noorhelm. In season 3 it was a factor that moved the main characters plot forward, but now in season 4 it’s only taking up Sana’s storyline, and that’s so unfair, cause Noora and Noorhelm had more than a whole long ass season for themselves, and it’s sad and stupid that Noora should have to take away Sana’s “screen time”. 

Throughout the three first seasons we see Sana through the other girls eyes, but we mostly get to see the “norwegian girl” side of Sana. But I thought that season 4 was supposed to be about a muslim girl of colour. Because as we have seen, that isn’t something Sana has shared with the other girls. At least not a huge part of it. This season I wanted to learn about Islam, religion, what it’s like to be a muslim, a muslim in norway, a muslim girl in norway, a girl of colour in norway (and in general). But as an ask from an anon said (to @evenandsana i think), what we have learnt this season about Islam and religion, and how it’s like to be a muslim, is thorugh people in this fandom, here on tumblr. Skam has literally not taught me anything I didn’t already know about Islam this season. What I’ve learnt is thourgh these amazing people on tumblr, and even though they have been so amazing, and so helpful, and kind and so generous with sharing everything and teaching us so much, honestly, it shouldn’t have to be people here on tumblr teaching us about this, it should be Skam. 

Finally, Sana is one of the only muslim girls of colour characters IN THE WORLD. Honestly I can’t name one other character like her in main stream media. This was supposed to be a season where other muslim girls and/or girls of colour were going to be represented in a good and real and healthy way, and to finally see “themselves” on a popular tv show. And yet, Sana is pushed to the back, even in her own season. I can’t even imagine how that must feel. To see “yourself” represented in media maybe for the first time ever, and seeing that character being shoved aside just so people can see even more of Noora (a white girl who is represented absolutely everywhere) and evak who we literally just watched a whole season of.

Castiel woke with a start.

The room around him was bright and warm. A soft breeze blew the curtain gently in the air above his face. He sat up slowly and the duvet rustled against his skin. The curtain brushed against his neck, a soft touch there and gone.

He could hear someone whistling.

Castiel stepped carefully out into the kitchen and there was Dean, standing in front of the stove, spatula in hand. He was whistling as he poured another measure of batter into the pan. The mouth-watering smell of butter frying filled the room.

Through the widow he could see a manicured lawn and gardens bursting with colour. Somewhere over the hill somebody was flying a kite.

He breathed out, and Dean turned and gave him the brightest smile he’d ever seen.

‘Morning sunshine, some coffee?’

Dean pointed with the spatula at the table, where a steaming mug sat waiting for him. Castiel sat, still slightly in awe of the moment in which he found himself. Dean turned back to the stove and busied himself flipping pancakes onto the plate waiting beside it.

‘Sam’s coming around later with the kids, he wants us all to go to the water park.’

Dean licked butter off his fingers as he plonked the plate down onto the table. He picked up a fork and twirled it theatrically before he plucked two steaming pancakes from the top of the pile.

‘That sounds… wonderful. Thank you, Dean.’ Dean smiled brilliantly again and Castiel had to remind himself how to breathe. He looked down at the pancake on his plate, golden brown and crispy around the edges. It smelled like hot butter and sugar. Perfect.

‘Yeah, but he made me promise not to go looking for a case while we’re there. Apparently he thinks I still don’t know how to relax.’

‘Well… I suppose we can’t help it if a case were to find us.’

‘Exactly.’ Dean waved his fork for emphasis, and went back to happily stuffing his face with pancake.’

Their brief moment of peace was broken by someone banging violently on the door.

Castiel’s heart leapt up into his throat, but Dean didn’t seem to hear it, and carried right on eating.

The banging came again, and the brightness of the room seemed to fade a little.

Castiel cleared his throat, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest.

‘Come in.’

The front door burst open, and there was Dean. Another Dean. His Dean. Looking more real than anything else in the room.

Castiel’s heart broke a little at the sight.

Dean took in the scene before him with relief and a bit of confusion. He watched himself take another pancake off the pile and drench it in maple syrup. His eyes travelled across the table to Castiel, who was sitting half out of his chair, staring at him.

Neither of them said a word. Everything Dean thought he would say had vanished the moment he’d laid eyes on Castiel’s heaven.

‘Deano, we don’t have much time… the Angels are still out looking for us.’ Came a voice from somewhere outside.

‘Cas…’ Dean breathed, and held out his hand, silently begging Cas to take it.

Cas turned back to the table. He watched “almost Dean” carry on talking and laughing as if Castiel was still there in the moment with him. 

‘Only if you want to.’ Dean’s hand trembled, almost imperceptibly.

Cas turned back to meet his eye. ‘Will you still make me pancakes?’

Dean, still holding out his hand, nodded.

Without a backwards glance, Cas took his hand and let Dean lead him out through the door.

“Did I fall asleep on your shoulder?”

Based on this prompt: You fell asleep on my shoulder on the flight, but it’s okay because you smell really nice and I was cold anyway.“-AU(ish) Yousana prompt

Booking a flight that is supposed to leave at 6 in the morning just because you’ll arrive at your destination at an earlier time of the day and with that have more of the day sounded good while choosing the flight a month ago. Not anymore.

Sana walks through the airport like a zombie. She tried to go to bed early but whenever she closed her eyes she thought of something she might have forgotten to pack and had to get up and check.

Yousef almost runs through the airport. He snoozed his alarm one too many times. Usually he’s a very punctual person but today, today he apparently needed more sleep.
This is also the reason why he is one of the last people to board the plane and find their seats. If he had taken just two seconds longer looking for his passport he would have missed the flight which would honestly not be ideal at all.

Out of breath Yousef finds his seat and just plumps down on it. A stewardess helps him put his backpack away so it’s done as soon as possible. Only then, after putting his seatbelt on, Yousef can relax. He leans back and closes his eyes for a moment.

When he opens them again he looks out of the window. It’s raining which makes Yousef even happier to get to sunny Turkey. Because he was so hectic to catch his flight, he didn’t look at his seat neighbours as soon as he sat down.  He has a seat at the isle.

At the window an older lady is sitting. She has a book on her lap and seems to be reading, or just staring at the opened book. Yousef is not sure.

Then he turns to his immediate seating neighbour and his eyes widen, he can’t do anything about his initial reaction.

A girl is sitting next to him. Already asleep. The plane hasn’t even taken off yet.  She’s leaned back in her seat, her arms around a pillow she’s holding close to herself.

Yousef finds himself smiling at the sight in front of him. The girl has a small smile on her face, even while sleeping. She’s really pretty.  

But he makes himself look away quickly when he realizes how that must look.

The plane takes off just minutes later. Yousef slides down in his seat and closes his eyes. He’s not afraid of flying but he doesn’t enjoy the take-off too much anyway. Putting on his earphones he hopes to fall asleep like the girl next to him. It’s very early and not even ten minutes into the flight most people on the plane seem to have fallen asleep.

However, having slept longer than he should have ruins that plan of sleeping on the plane. Even with quiet, calming music Yousef can’t drift into sleep. He gives up, sighing, and turns his head to be able to look at least a little bit out of the window.

The older lady is definitely not reading, Yousef thinks. She looks like she fell asleep but she’s still awkwardly sitting.

There’s something about just watching the clouds that makes Yousef smile to himself. He likes flying. One of the reasons being exactly this. Being so high in the sky, being able to see the world from a different angle. Even if he doesn’t see that much.

Yousef’s brought out of his thoughts when something bumps against his shoulder. And rests there. The girl sitting next to him, who has been sleeping since he arrived on the plane, slid down in her seat a little and her head landed on Yousef’s shoulder.

Looking down at her Yousef doesn’t know what to do. Especially not when she moves a little, making her self really comfortable against his shoulder. Should he slightly push her off his shoulder? Not because he minds but because she might. Should he try moving a bit? But that would wake her and maybe she doesn’t want that. She seems to be very tired.

All the time he spends thinking about what to do goes to waste when he just ends up doing nothing. He lets the girl have her head resting on his shoulder. Turning the music over his earphones a bit louder Yousef also closes his eyes.

Yousef can’t sleep. Right when he gets really tired, he can’t sleep because he’s cold. His jacket is in his backpack that’s packed away safely and he can’t get up without waking the sleeping beauty. He contemplates if it’d be worth it but decides it’s not. Yousef is sure he’ll be fine; it’s not that cold anyway.

The second time on this four hour flight Yousef almost falls asleep, someone else wakes up. The girl sitting next to him. He only notices that because he feels the warmth at his shoulder vanish suddenly. He had gotten used to that in the past hour. It makes Yousef open his eyes.

The first thing he sees is the girl. She’s rubbing her eyes without moving away from him too much. She’s still getting awake but when she is, she lets her hands fall onto the pillow on her lap and looks around. Her gaze falling on Yousef. Her eyes wander from him to herself. Or rather on the way she’s sitting. Still leaned a little towards Yousef.

Suddenly her eyes widen slowly and she leans back a bit. Not that there is much space behind her, where the older lady is sitting.  

Yousef is not sure how he is supposed to react to this. He just observes the girl with an amused smile. Still a little hazy she looks back at him and smiles lightly. Yousef answers with a smile of his own.

“Did..”, the girl’s voice sound sore, she coughs and then continues, “Did I fall asleep on your shoulder?”

She looks like she’s about to laugh at this or like she’s embarrassed. Yousef can’t really decide which one it is.

He nods as an answer and sees how the girl with the pretty brown eyes and a purple hijab that complements her skin colour grimaces cutely.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t get too much in your personal space. I’m really sorry about that.”, the girl apologizes and can’t look at the boy sitting next to her for too long.

Sana feels herself blushing. She was so tired that she apparently fell asleep very quickly. She doesn’t even remember the boy next to her sitting down. She must have fallen asleep before he arrived. And then slept on his shoulder for a while.

“It’s fine, really.”, the boy answers with a smile. He looks at Sana as if he wants to say something else but he doesn’t.

Looking down at her hands bashfully Sana says: “I won’t fall asleep on your shoulder for the rest of the flight, I promise.” She feels like cursing herself. Why did she say that?

Yes, the boy sitting next to her is really cute. Yes, sleeping leaning on his shoulder was comfortable. But Sana didn’t realize she did that. She did realize the nice smell, though. Which she should never say out loud. Ever.

A short laugh makes her look up. The boy shakes his head.
“Really, it’s fine.”, leaning his head on the seat and turning it to look at Sana, he continues, “It’s early and everyone is tired.”

Yousef points around them. The older lady sitting on Sana’s other side is asleep, the people in the same row as them are all asleep. The plane is pretty quiet.

Sana follows his vague gestures and nods. He’s right. But there is one thing.

“You don’t seem tired.”, Sana comments and also leans back, turning her head to look at the boy.

His low chuckle makes Sana smile but she presses her lips together and just listens to his answer.

“I slept more than enough, believe me. Almost missed my flight because of that.”, Yousef says, rubbing his eye. Doesn’t mean he’s not a tiny bit tired anyway.

The girl nods and hugs her pillow closer. Yousef follows that movement and looks back up at her. She’s smiling lightly. She has dimples, Yousef realizes.

“I’m Yousef, by the way.”

Sana raises her eyebrows at him and weirdly thinks that that name fits to him. Even though she doesn’t know him at all.

She holds out her hand and introduces herself: “I’m Sana.”

“That’s a pretty name.”,Yousef blurts out without having the chance to catch himself. Why doesn’t he think before talking, he internally curses himself.

Until Sana laughs at that quietly.  “Thank you.”

Sana looks at him when he’s not looking at her.

Yousef looks at her when she’s not looking at him.

A few minutes go past like this. Comfortable silence.

“So, are you going on vacation?”, Yousef asks after a few minutes. When Sana turns to look at him in a quick move, Yousef shakes his head. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that of course.”

He doesn’t know Sana at all. And Small Talk on a plane is not something everyone likes.

But she smiles and nods.

“Yeah, I finished my exams for this semester and needed a break.”

Yousef raises his eyebrows in interest. “Really? Me too.”

Smiling, Sana asks: “What are you studying?”

Yousef leans back again, resting his head on his seat, turning to Sana.

She does the same. Leaning back, resting her head on the backrest of the seat, turning to Yousef.

“I’m studying to become a teacher. “ Sana sees how his face lights up at the mention of his studies which makes her smile.

“That’s so nice. Which subjects?”, Sana asks him, looking honestly interested and not only asking because it’s polite.

“Norwegian and P.E.”, Yousef answers, smiling. “What about you? What are you studying?”

“Medicine. I want to become a surgeon.”

Yousef’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wow, that’s impressive.” Sana just smiles at that. “I wish you the best for your studies then.”, Yousef adds.

“Right back at you.”, Sana says.

And with that they settle in silence again. This time not moving to look in different directions. They’re still both resting their heads on the backrest of their seats and facing each other.

Sana’s looking down at her pillow.

Yousef’s looking down on his hands.

“So, where are you going?” This time it’s Sana that breaks the silence. She’s talking quietly, seeing as many people around them are sleeping.

Yousef’s head snaps up to her and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Turkey?”, he says slowly.

Sana rolls her eyes smilingly which Yousef just finds endearingly. “I know.”, she laughs, “I mean, are you staying in Istanbul when we land or are you traveling further.”

“Oooh.”,  Yousef says, laughing. Yeah, he was confused by her question seeing as the plane lands only in one place. “Yeah, no… I mean, I’ll stay in Istanbul for a couple of days and travel further to go see some of my family.”

With that the two of them start talking. The topic of their conversation switching every once in a while. Their plans for the vacation. Random thoughts that go through their minds. Finding out they’re both from Oslo. TV shows they watch and types of music they listen to.

In between those topics there’s always that short silence, just a few minutes, later just a few moments.

After their last topic, in that short silence both of them don’t mind at all, they both close their eyes for a couple of seconds.

Sana just wants to rest her eyes.

Yousef just needs a second.

Well, that is how both of them fall asleep. Facing each other, although on far ends of their seats.
Having to be woken up by a stewardess when the plane lands.

anonymous asked:

For the drabble meme: 37(I had a dream about you) and 95(I never liked it, I lied) please. If you don't mind. Thank you

“A murder mystery weekend.”


“And you’re…? preventing an actual murder…?”

“No.”  Sherlock’s face screwed up like she’d just suggested he eat a mothball dipped in roofing tar and rolled in spider legs.  "Art theft.  You watch too much telly.“

“And John can’t go because he couldn’t find his bollocks in the bottom of Mary’s handbag?”


Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I NEED YOU. I just finished "You Don't Even Know Me" and "Half Blade and Half Silk", and "Whit love, from anonymous" only have one chapter left. So I really need more chaptered fics. Any recommendations? And as a plus: any chaptered solumates!AU? Thanks sweetie, I'm sending you all my love <3

Hello dear <3 Sure, if you’re looking for chaptered fics similiar to those you names (aka specifially au fics), check out this post

Chaptered soulmates!au fics will be listed below :)


  • Making shades of purple by rumpelsnorcack ✓
    Summary: His whole life, Isak had known his soulmark was different to those around him. Well, that was a lie; it hadn’t been his whole life. But it had definitely been something he was aware of for as long as he was aware that soulmarks and soulmates existed.

  • Living With the Uncertainty by kitsunechikyu
    Summary: “Despite Jonas’ insistence that finding your soulmate was all a part of the capitalist agenda, Isak secretly liked the possibility of having someone made especially for you; two halves of one whole searching for each other across time and space. It might have been a little sappy, and not usually his style — he was going to be a micro-biologist after all — but he couldn’t help but hope that he’d find his someday.” Or, Isak is just barely dragging through himself through life and Even is the cute barista that works at the local coffee shop. (+ coffee shop!au) 

  • twin reflections of kindred spirits by mickythesticky
    Summary: From the moment he was born, his mother had always kept him bundled all the way up to his neck, swaddled in just such a way that no one would ever see the bright blue triangle that sat below his jaw, emblazoned in gold lettering with the name of his soulmate.

  • Colours Speak Louder Than Words by BreeTaylor
    Summary“Colour changes the way we see the world, Isak.” He never asked for his world to change. He never wanted to be told who to love, who was his ‘meant-to-be.’ Isak liked his world the way it was, and this whole soulmate bullshit just complicated everything. How long could he run before he’d have to face what the universe had presented him with? How long would he want to?

  • It Was Always Supposed to Happen Like This by Darwig3
    Summary: Soulmates share marks and are able to feel each others emotions. And sometimes that can really suck.

  • You Make My Heart Soar by missmarymakeup93
    Summary: Soulmates have basically become extinct. But one chance encounter has Isak in a mess of emotions. Especially when magical marks start appearing on his body.

(✓ - completed fics)

anonymous asked:

OK so I'm in love with your Trans!Isak headcanons Do you have any that focus on him coming out as Trans to the boy Squad? I hc that Jonas already knows but how do you think Magnus and Mahdi found out?

hallaa! i’m so glad you like them 😍! here r some more, just cause you asked. 

  • isak is nervous
  • hell, when isak not nervous?
  • it’s become something of a common theme, he supposes
  • anxiety surges in his veins, plunges in his gut and claws at his throat
  • his binder is tight; almost too tight, constricting his lungs and blooming bruises along his ribcage
  • a warm, slender hand snaps him out of it
  • squeezes the nerve-endings out of him, makes him exhale into may air
  • it’s still chilly in oslo
  • chilly enough for a jacket and, if they’re lucky, a scarf 
  • nevertheless, even loves wearing layers; something the shorter had learned early on in their once-catastrophic relationship
  • he was kind of like a reptile
  • the duo are meeting with the rest of the boys today
  • they’re supposed to meet up at this dingy little bakery mahdi frequented since he was a kid, something about the promise of homeliness screaming inside isak’s guts and making him squirm
  • when they arrive, isak is hit with the smell of fresh dough and lavender
  • an odd combination, surely, but it fits the quaint shop
  • there’s cracks in the walls covered by colourful flora and long, thorny vines, and mold on the floorboards painted over with swirls of purples and whites
  • even must be going wild, the artist that he is
  • the boys are already here, voices loud against the clanking of china and the soft acoustic wafting through the speakers 
  • all in all, it’s one the most comfortable places isak’s ever been in, and he reckons, momentarily, that it could soften the blow; if only a little bit
  • navigating to the rather rowdy table, even clears his throat, playing with his boyfriend’s fingers comfortingly
  • ‘‘hey!’‘ mahdi and magnus chorus in unison, standing up abruptly so as to smother the two in much needed hugs
  • jonas stays back, presumably to give the younger blond space, a knowing look in warm eyes and a furrowed brow
  • ‘you okay?’ he mouths
  • ‘fine,’ isak responds, quite weakly, humming under his breath and taking his spot next to the aforementioned brunette 
  • ‘‘we already ordered for you guys. two bear claws for even, and a cupcake for isak,’‘ magnus announces proudly, grin big and wide and oh, isak wishes he could smile back, wishes there wasn’t a dull roar in his organs 
  • swallowing, the boy lets out a soft murmur of thanks, eyes glued to intertwined digits
  • ‘‘isak,’‘ jonas begins
  • the latter quirks a brow, gaze wandering to a corresponding concerned one, all thick eyelashes and pale skin
  • ‘‘isak,’’ he says, again, firmer this time, as though comforting him in that quiet way of his, to which the boy is grateful
  • ‘‘so, uh, i have–i have something to tell you all.’’
  • ‘‘okay, shoot,’‘ mahdi says around a mouthful of red velvet cake, lips covered in frosting
  • magnus lets out a noise of agreement
  • ‘‘right, um–well, i’m–i’m transgender. a transgender guy.’‘ 
  • swallowing the last mouthful of his treat, mahdi wipes his mouth, hesitates once, twice; smiles
  • ‘‘thanks for telling us, bro. anyway, did you do your lit homework last night? i couldn’t get past the first fucking question!’‘
  • raising a rather confused brow, the blond breathes, ‘’you’re not mad?’’
  • ‘‘mad? why would we be mad? sure, it’s gonna take a little getting used to, but you’re still a guy. sometimes, certain guys have to let people know they’re guys,’’ magnus pipes up this time, smiling a nice, magnus sort of smile, one that’s soft around the edges and quiet in the shadow
  • ‘‘yeah, true,’‘ mahdi hums
  • ‘‘like, we never doubted you were a real boy, ‘cause you are one, ‘course, but telling or reminding us doesn’t hurt, either. you’ve just got different parts, and that’s chill. just means no more dick jokes.’‘
  • isak’s eyelashes are wet at this point, throat numb as he swallows thick tears because holy shit, how did he get so lucky?
  • even presses a reassuring kiss to his temple, and rubs soothing circles into his knuckles as they wait for their order, conversation like white noise in his ears 
  • truthfully, he hadn’t expected this, especially from magnus, of all people
  • magnus who, when prompted, went off about how hot ‘’two girls in action’’ were
  • nevertheless, his friend was apparently lot more educated than he knew
  • the more you know, really
  • ‘‘good job choosing this place, mahds,’‘ even grins
  • isak agrees