i can't be the only one who made this connection right

Someone else on tumblr pointed out that PASSENGERS might have been a more meaningful movie if it was about just THE ONE person dealing with being alone on the ship for the rest of their life.  And if, to cope, they go through and make it a point to learn everything they can about all of the other people on the ship.

And I just keep thinking about this idea.

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This is a story BASED ON the Lost Lance AU which BELONGS TO @kaxpha
which is AMAZING and everyone should check it out. This particular one-shot which is longer than I thought it’d be is based on this post and this animatic.

This is one of my favorite klance AUs ever, because you can just tell the sheer amount of thought and effort that went into it. I hope I was able to do it justice.

aNYWAY here it is. Sorry, I’m posting this later than I originally planned.

Lance’s leg was bent at an awkward angle, and every time he got the nerve to look at it just made him feel worse than before. 

Hunk had suffered a few bruised ribs at the very least, and it was likely Pidge received a minor concussion. One of Shiro’s legs had been grazed by a laser, and Keith seemed to be the only one of the five of them who could still stand on two feet.

But Lance couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever felt happier. Because they’d finally done it.

They’d taken down Prince Lotor, heir to the all-powerful Galra empire. He kneeled on the ground, hands clutching his stomach. Lance couldn’t help but feel a bit smug at that— he was the one to land a shot there.

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anonymous asked:

I'm saying this from the perspective of a shipper I guess but looking at all these Sheith moments got me thinking.. Would it be possible that the creators themselves are actually planning for them to be canon at some point? But because of some complications..(not gonna name it) they decided to scrap it off? Do you think this is possible? Although Keith telling Shiro he is like a brother to him kinda made me sad? lol I have got so many questions so I can't wait to see more of this amazing series!

Hi anon! The thing is, writing and animation for shows like this are done way in advance. When season 1 came out, I imagine the plot up until seasons 3 or 4 was already set in stone. And Voltron, like most shows, works off a “TV Bible” that had all the major plot points outlined right when the series was first pitched so,, once you plan things out like that I think it’s difficult to make big changes to characters’ relationships.   

I think the writers have also made it clear that they are going to go ahead with their narrative rather than catering to popular fannon, particularly when they’ve told certain fans they don’t agree with their mentality at all. Even with things like how they mentioned Allura was a teenager like all the other paladins, a lot of people didn’t headcannon that, but the writers stood by it. It’s their own story after all, and I don’t see why they should change it. As for sheith, we know the writers have outright told people that harassing shippers isn’t okay and they’re completely against it. 

There are also plenty of writers, animators, and VAs who have liked clearly romantic sheith fanart, cosplay, or pro-sheith posts (and gotten backlash for it). So we know they’re certainly not opposed to shipping it. And I mean, whether it’s romantic or not, we know that the cast certainly seems invested in their dynamic. The fact that their relationship and character development is by far the most fleshed out is certainly apparent. Here’s also some stuff staff has drawn that shows they at least like Shiro and Keith’s bond: 

So anyway, despite how the fandom can be, I don’t think it would necessarily deter the writers or dissuade them from following through with major writing decisions. And given how supportive the staff has been of sheith, I don’t think they would suddenly just abandon whatever plans they had for their character development together. Under the hypothetical that they did make sheith canon, I think they would just maybe adjust how they went about it so that the fandom could kind of like, ease into it, and hopefully not be too mad about it. Though I have no doubt people would still harass the staff if sheith happened, which just…makes me feel really bad to be honest…

On the BOM line though anon, I don’t think it goes against sheith at all and here’s why:

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anonymous asked:

Wow! Can't believe Ben's dad bought him a Tony! So impressive!

Okay. *Deep breath*. Here we go. I knew someone was going to bring this up eventually and I’m going to take a few moments to prove how wholly and completely wrong you are.

First of all, I assume this accusation is based off of the fact that Ben’s father, Marc Platt, is a producer.

First and foremost, I will remind you that Ben Platt’s father has no role in the production of Dear Evan Hansen. Here is a list of the shows he has produced:

Notice: Dear Evan Hansen is not on this list.

Secondly, here are the actual producers of Dear Evan Hansen:

Again, no where in this list is Marc Platt. He did not play any role in the making/production/casting of Dear Evan Hansen. He did not have a say in his son getting that role. The two people that did, though, are casting directors Tara Rubin and Lindsay Levine, both of whom have absolutely no connections to Ben.

If you already knew that Marc Platt has no role in the production of Dear Evan Hansen and are merely implying that having a father who is part of show business helps one’s career (which I don’t think you did because of your use of the word “bought”), I will remind you of one thing: There is no one but you and the casting directors in an audition room. 

Sometimes, people can earn roles in shows/movies/etc. based on other factors, but they cannot and will not keep those roles because of those factors. Ben Platt would not have been part of Dear Evan Hansen for 4 years if it weren’t for the fact that he earned his spot there, that he deserved to be there. 

Children of people involved in the arts are more likely to be involved in the arts themselves. That’s just a fact, and that happens because people involved in the arts are more likely to actually value the arts and expose their children to the arts from a young age, not because their children are magically blessed with more talent than anyone else.

The list of people whose parents are involved in acting/music/producing/directing who have made a name for themselves in those fields is astronomical. (It includes people like Liza Minnelli, Angelina Jolie, Blake Lively, Rashida Jones, Chris Pine, Ben Stiller, Zoë Kravitz, Emma Roberts, Michael Douglas, and more). That is because increased exposure to something at a young age leads to increased interest in that field, which leads to, “Hey, maybe I could make a career out of this as well!” 

You cannot have a career based solely upon your parent’s achievements; you have to make new achievements yourself. You have to work really hard and for a very long time and be passionate. 

And that’s just what Ben did. He won a Tony based on his incredible talent and only his incredibly talent. You can’t buy someone a Tony. Those awards are based off of merit. He did not win a Tony because his dad produced a few musicals (none of which had anything to do with Ben himself). That logic isn’t sound.

Ben’s dad being a producer (of projects that have nothing do with Ben himself and have no effect on any of Ben’s shows, I will reiterate) did not land Ben a role in Dear Evan Hansen. Ben’s dad being a producer did not make Ben win a Tony. Ben’s dad being a producer did not magically make Ben himself incredibly talented. 

Ben earned his role in Dear Evan Hansen because he auditioned for Pasek, Paul, and Michael Greif and was the best person for that role. He was cast because of his pure talent. Ben earned that Tony because of years and years and years of hard work. He earned that Tony because he put the time in, worked hard, is an incredible singer and actor, and because he is the best performer on Broadway right now. Not for any other reason.

Attacking someone anonymously for something that is completely untrue is not only fucking ridiculous but also really shows just what kind of person you are.

That’s all. 

Farmer’s Market Hot

It’s been a few months, so forgive me if this is rusty. Here’s 3000 words of Farmer’s Market flirty fun and farmhouse sexy times. Modern AU, rated M - AO3.

To her left, her neighbor is providing a constant and delicious kettle corn flavored breeze, a welcome fragrant addition to her favorite day of the week. Saturday, Farmer’s Market day, a day filled with flannel shirts, leaves crunching beneath her boots and a good chunk of money in her pocket. The bushels of apples on her table are filled to the brim, collected from David’s orchard, a small pocket of trees she’s sure he only keeps tended because he knows how much she loves them. She sells the apples and gets to pocket half the proceeds, which she’s been squirreling away so she can eventually buy a place of her own. David and Mary Margaret’s guest house on the farm is nice and all, but she could really use some privacy. 

It’s an unconscious thing, she tells herself, as her eyes drift across the walkway to Killian and those stupid blue eyes and friendly smile she just knows will be directed at her. This happens entirely too often, the two of them catching each other looking, his obvious interest raising goosebumps along her skin. He’s entirely too attractive, with that carelessly tousled dark hair, ginger-tinged scruff and wiry frame. The fact that he bakes the best damn pies she’s ever tasted doesn’t help, either. He’s like her own personal dessert on display if she’d only just forget her diet and allow herself to indulge.

It’s been a long time, too long if you ask her body, since she’s let a man get close enough to touch her (both physically and emotionally). And she’s hungry…for both. So, Killian is scary, because despite her feigned protests, she’s past the point of curious and veering straight into potentially Bad Decision Central.

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anonymous asked:

I just read through your tags on that yin-yang ml thing you just reblogged, and have you noticed how devilish Chat's facial expressions can be (most prominent throughout the Copycat episode)? It's like, dark isn't inherently evil, but you can't ignore that it's still dark, y'know?

damn straight

(that one’s not from Copycat but I had to add it cause look at that expression, man, god damn)

Out of context, without Ladybug, it’s honestly pretty easy to mistake Chat Noir for a bad guy. Just looking at the above pictures I have to admit even I’d probably think he was a villain if I hadn’t seen the show.

That could be why practically all of Paris is quick to accept Chat as a serious thief in Copycat. Maybe they don’t hold Chat to the same regards as Ladybug. Maybe they aren’t sure he’s as much of a good guy as Ladybug is. I doubt the public would be so quick to judge Ladybug if it was Ladybug’s imposter caught stealing something.

But, where Copycat does have some great expressions, I definitely think Chat’s wicked side is even more prominent in Jackady, when his father has been threatened.

Chat Noir says, zip it!

like holy fuck is that a sadistic look. Adrien looks like he’s thinking about torturing Jackady for fun, before Jackady’s even reached Gabriel.

The most telling part of this episode is how serious Chat is the entire time though. Unlike usual, there’s no joking or playful banter coming from him. Gabriel is in danger, and suddenly Adrien is all business, becoming cold, focused, and incredibly controlled to keep the only parent he has left alive and safe.

He’s downright ruthless fighting his bodyguard, to the point where he lies about Ladybug being there so he can use Cataclysm to push the Gorilla down an elevator shaft. Granted, Chat had to get the Gorilla out of the way, but its still a pretty harsh way of going about it, especially when the Gorilla is someone Adrien knows firsthand.

Oh! Hey there, Ladybug.

(Yo Adrien, I know you’re proud of yourself and imma let ya finish, but I don’t think smiling is the proper response to sending your bodyguard down an elevator shaft you broke, mmkay my guy.)

I very much implore you to compare English Adrien’s shout of Cataclysm here to the one near the end of the episode btw. There’s a significant difference of tone. You can hear the raw


literally echoing in Adrien’s voice later when he destroys Jackady’s pack of cards.

At the mansion, Chat remains incredibly tense and serious, constructing a plan and giving orders to the others in a matter of seconds. And later, when Chat and Ladybug face Jackady together, Chat again doesn’t miss a beat. He’s right on target, deflecting attacks and holding his own when Ladybug’s yo-yo is temporarily made useless. He kicks some serious ass.

(even LB is like jfc who are you and where is my silly kitty partner)

Nobody really takes Chat all that seriously, but when it comes down to it he’s a darker character than Ladybug is. Adrien himself has the potential to be a terrifying villain.

He’s got the tragic backstory complete with his missing mother and emotionally abusive father. He’s rich and famous which means he has all kinds of connections and social control. His homeschooling and strict upbringing indicate he must be really intelligent and get excellent grades. Chat’s proven how sly and cunning he can be in and outside of battle. Adrien’s even the one that comes up with the idea to be in Nino’s ear during Animan–the exact same idea unbeknownst to both parties that Alya comes up with for Marinette. Hell, even Chat’s power, the ability to destroy anything (or anyone), is something a typical super-villain would have. (Not to mention, his daddy might be the show’s big bad, Hawk Moth.)

But I guess that’s what I think is so interesting and beautiful about Adrien/Chat’s character? That he has every reason to fight for the wrong side and use his powers for the wrong reasons, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t try to hurt the world for hurting him. Instead, he helps and protects others. He’s not happy and he’s not flawless, but he has a good heart in a life that’s trying constantly to blacken it, and that’s just so touching and inspiring. I digress.

Yes, nonnie, Chat Noir is a great embodiment of the idea that darkness isn’t inherently evil, but you can’t deny that darkness is still dark.

anonymous asked:

Hello! May I request a Dick x reader imagine where reader is his best friend (and is in love with him to the point they're willing to sacrifice themselves to save him) One day, on a mission they get kidnapped and brainwashed to become a weapon for the villains to manipulate and use against the heroes. In the middle of the fight, they're commanded to take down Nightwing but they can't do it. Good ending but extra angsty <33

Can I request a story where Dick’s friend is in love with him but he always has a girlfriend, maybe a happy ending? Pretty please

So my friends, I combined these two requests and created a MONSTER of a one shot. I hope you both like it!!!!! This was totally inspired by TS’s “Look What You Made Me DO” and I’m not even sorry lol. This imagine has a whole FREAKIN PLAYLIST omg.

Side note: This takes place when Dick  returns to Gotham for the Robin Wars. It’s edited to fit and for time but if your lost tl;dr: Dickie dies, goes on undercover super secret mission, comes back to Gotham for Robin wars, fucks with the Court of Owls

title: Hurt Tonight

themes: ANGST, unrequited to requited love, obtained powers, creepy Court of Owls, somewhat happy ok ending

warnings: mentions of torture and cognitive dissonance

The phone hit the wall so hard the glass screen shattered, and your hands went to your head, fingers gripping your hair as you screamed bloody murder in complete anguish. Dick was gone, Tim had just called to give you the news, voice as heartbroken as you were. You didn’t know how to feel; furious, vindictive, destroyed.

Destroyed was a good one.

The next few months you kept to yourself unless you were on missions with your team. You lost weight, you weren’t sleeping, you were throwing yourself into situations that could kill you. Your team all steered clear of you; when they had tried to coax you into discussing your feelings you had clammed right up, disappearing for a few days. After that, they decided having you here was better than having lost you. You built up a tough outer shell that nobody except Dick could crack, and your source of a rescue was long gone.

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Okay, but I saw Wonder Woman yesterday for the first time and I keep thinking about the development of Diana’s team of ragtag WWI misfits. I wish the Howling Commandos had gotten the same depth and attention in The First Avenger. The Howlies had a montage and a few very forgettable side scenes that were eclipsed by the larger story. Diana’s team all had very distinct, memorable personalities and they were all given at least one meaningful conversation with Diana to make their connection to her that much more personal and grounded and real. 

Seeing her with her team showed me we could have had so much more with Steve (Rogers) and his own band of misfits. 

Just imagine how much more personal it would have made Captain America’s bond with his team if we’d had: a campfire conversation where Gabe talked about how hard it was to give up his education to fight in the war (especially since he’d fought tooth and nail just to be able to take classes). Or Steve learning French (and explosives) from Dernier (sometimes at the same time, and sometimes with near-disastrous consequences (Hydra found them more than once due to accidental explosions)). What if Falsworth and Steve bantered back and forth about their taste in art (Van Gogh is the only one they both agree is any good)? Or what if Dum-Dum cooked them all something awful and Steve tried to choke it down for the sake of morale (only to find out Dum-Dum knew it was bad and just wanted to see how far Steve would go)? What if Steve found out Morita had family back at home who were in internment camps (also known as the night Steve almost called off the assault on Hydra to go back home and tear down the US internment camps with his bare hands (that’s also when he starts to realize the government of the good ol’ US of A can’t always be trusted)? Imagine if we saw the team relieved to find out Bucky was still alive after Zola took him away in Azzano—and imagine if we saw them grieving with Steve after Bucky’s fall from the train. 

Wonder Woman showed us you don’t need much—just a brief exchange here and there. A spark, a glimpse, a suggestion. If Captain America had that depth of connection to his first team, imagine how much more powerful it would be seeing him having to adapt to a new team in the future. Maybe it would be difficult for him, or maybe it would explain why Steve is actually so good at falling into a leadership position with the Avengers. We’d have seen how capable he is at uniting his first team.

I don’t know. In either case, I can’t stop thinking about what we missed. 

anonymous asked:

Fremione! "I can't believe you talked me into this"

Everything was ready. The plan was flawless and they’d been going over it for weeks. Today was the day, today it was finally going to happen.

And then, hopefully, George would shut his big fat mouth.

Fred’s face couldn’t help but contort into a blissful grin as he envisioned a future where his brother and Angelina finally got together, meaning that Fred finally got to go ten seconds without hearing his twin talking about how amazing Angelina was or having him ask Fred if he too had noticed the confidence she carried now as their team captain.

Ugh …

Instead, Fred held out hope that the two of them getting together would mean less talk and more snog, strange as that might sound. But if it was for the greater good! Even Lee, who never shied away from expressing admiration for any lady, was growing tired of the rambles of a lovesick idiot.

It was near Christmas and mistletoes existed in abundance, but the one Fred had designed was engineered to nail down anyone who stepped underneath and wouldn’t let go until they’d kissed properly—as in none of that friendly peck on the cheeks nonsense. There would be no room for misinterpretation. All that remained was for Lee to steer the lovebirds to stand beneath the archway on the fourth floor. It was secluded and quite romantic with its view of the snow-covered grounds and the looming sunset. It was the perfect setting for his plan …


Fred startled, flying up from his crouched position where he’d been peeking around the corner to where the archway was, and turned around meeting Hermione Granger’s suspicious gaze. She raised an eyebrow. “What are you up to?”

Recovering from the surprise, Fred plastered on the most innocent smile available in his repertoire. “Hermione,” he said, “good evening.”

She wasn’t fooled and crossed her arms, making her robes move and call attention to the shining Prefect badge on her chest. “What are you up to?”

“I—“ There was a tingling sensation and Fred stopped in horror. He looked to the side, with Hermione following his move, and as he’d predicted, there was his brother. But he wasn’t alone.

“Angelina?” Hermione’s frown from before let up and was replaced with a look of surprise. “I thought you were on your way to the Quidditch pitch?”

Angelina grimaced. Fred could hear the gears in Hermione’s brain working next to him, attempting to discern the cause of Angelina’s guilt-ridden face.

Fred addressed his brother, “George, tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.”

George—who unlike Angelina bore no signs of feeling bad—smirked. “I did nothing that you hadn’t already planned on doing to me, Freddie.”

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” grumbled Angelina as the twins were fighting a battle with their eyes. “I’m so sorry, Hermione.”

Hermione’s eyes bulged. “What? What is happening, Angelina? Why can’t I move?”

Fred broke away from glaring at his brother and pointed up, sighing, “Mistletoe.”

Hermione groaned. “Merlin …”

“Now, we’re merciful enough to not gather you an audience, but hopefully this’ll remind you to not meddle,” said George, catching Fred’s attention again.


Fred ignored Hermione’s questioning eyes, knowing that she wanted to know how much he was to blame for their situation. He instead busied himself shouting obscenities at his brother, who did nothing but wave unconcernedly whilst walking away, Angelina trailing behind him and sending a last ‘sorry’ Hermione’s way.  

Once they were around the corner and out of sight, Fred stopped his shouting but continued cursing his twin in his mind. If they had the connection everyone always claimed they had, then George would be hearing him loud and clear.

“What do we do now?” Hermione asked after a moment of silence.

“There’s nothing to do,” admitted Fred, facing her at last. “This thing isn’t going to let up until we’ve done as told.”

“I can’t believe someone with your genius didn’t build in a failsafe.”

“Failsafe?” asked Fred, hint of a smile growing wider, “And excuse me, did you say genius?”

Hermione ignored him, “Failsafe, as in a code word in case you wanted to abort the mission.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know—perhaps for situations like this one!”

Fred grinned, “You know, we could really use brains like yours developing products.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, which did nothing to hide the fact that the flattery had got to her, “This is not the time to try and recruit me. Honestly, what are we going to do?”

Fred took some time to think, going over the various precautions he’d taken to ensure that whoever ended up beneath the mistletoe wouldn’t be able to get out. There really was nothing else to do but … He swallowed at the thought. This was not how he’d imagined this would go. He’d built up this image of what he was going to do for so long now that the fact that reality had caught up with him made him question everything. Surely, Hermione couldn’t be looking at him with those gorgeous and clever brown eyes of hers, asking him for a solution. Surely, she wasn’t standing so close that he could feel the warmth of her against his front (he forgot that this was because of the gravitation spell he’d cast on the mistletoe) and that he could count the freckles on her nose that were infinitely fewer than his. Surely, she wasn’t there for him to kiss. It was insane. It was preposterous. But somehow, it was reality.

Hermione spoke then, her eyes taking on an amused glint, “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you speechless.”

Fred couldn’t help it, he chuckled. “You do have that effect on me.” He summoned some courage and willed his hand to move a lock of hair behind her ear.

To his delight, a furious blush appeared on the witch’s face. “I …erm, that is …”

“Look,” said Fred, “there really only is one way to get away from this mistletoe and …I’m  afraid that—“

“Fred, I’d rather give you a small kiss than stand here any longer, so perhaps we should just get it over with.” Hermione’s face remained red, but she looked determined. Fred felt sorry as soon as he told her it wouldn’t be that easy, and watched her determination faltered.

“Bloody hell, I need to build one of those failsafes next time.”

Hermione bit her lip and nodded in agreement. “All right, we should …we should just go ahead. And do it. I mean, do the kissing. That.”

Fred let out a long breath. “All right. Try to not fall in love with me after this, Granger,” he added with a wink to cover up how nervous he was.

To his surprise this made Hermione’s eyes widen in horror. Something inside Fred stirred at the look. “Granger?” he asked. “…Hermione?”

“I …” Hermione avoided looking at him now. She shook her head. “Nevermind, it’s nothing. Let’s just do this and you can leave to do your pranks.”

Something wasn’t quite right, but before Fred could ask what was wrong, Hermione had grabbed him by his tie and crushed her lips against him.

At first, there was surprise. Then, amazement at the feel of her soft mouth caressing his and the way her body molded itself against him, making him clutch her tighter at the waist with one hand and tangling into her hair with the other. And after that, Fred’s sense made a slow return and he noticed the desperation emanating from the girl he was kissing. The only girl he’d wanted to kiss for months now. But somehow, he didn’t think she knew that. So he made sure she knew.

Hermione made a startled noise as his kiss deepened, but he could feel confusion gradually replace the emotions from before. After a while, the two of them broke apart gasping for air and Hermione’s eyes searched frantically over his face.

“Fred,” she asked, her eyebrows pulling close together, “are you …?”

“Yes,” he said, determined to meet her uncertain gaze as steadily as he could. “For a long time now.”

“Bloody hell,” she breathed. And then she pulled him close again, neither of them noticing that the mistletoe above them had burst into colours before disappearing.


“It’s worse than I imagined,” Lee groaned, watching Fred and Hermione. He righted himself and looked back at Angelina and George standing next to him behind the wall. “But hopefully this’ll put a stop to his ramblings, the lovesick idiot that he is.”

I need to know (you) [BTS Smut/angst?]

Originally posted by jinmini



COUNT → 5408

GENRE → Smut/Angst/Fluff

PAIRING → Taehyung/Jimin

SUMMARY:   Taehyung heard his best friend masturbating and now he can’t stop thinking about him. He feels that something just woke inside of him, but don’t know how to express it. He just know that Jimin is responsible, because now he can’t stop thinking about kissing him. But that is a normal thought to have, right?

N/A: Basically Taehyung realizes he’s in love with Jimin but don’t know how to cope with that.

A noise woke Taehyung up.

Tae was confused because he never woke up unless someone was waking him up, and by waking him up he meant someone screaming at his ear for fifteen seconds straight. So of course he was confused. It was still night, if the darkness of the room was any indicator, and no one was asking him to wake if the lack of screams were a pointer too. So Taehyung was confused, to say the least.

Then he heard the noise again.

It was low, almost imperceptible. But it was there. Like a grunt, joined by a noise Taehyung couldn’t interpret although he knew he must’ve heard it somewhere else. His brain was still trying to function and the only way he could describe it was wet. It was a wet noise. If only he had been more awake he could’ve avoided all the events that followed that night. But no, his brain was still half asleep and his curiosity got the best of him. Carefully he turned his head towards the sound and what he saw woke him completely.

Jimin was laying on his bed, next to Taehyung’s, with his shirt tugged up halfway. He had his eyes closed and small gasps were leaving his lips, although he was biting them, and Tae suspected he was doing so to avoid making noise. But that wasn’t what struck Tae’s the most. He found Jimin stroking himself furiously with one hand, his movements frantic and desperate. And his other hand was between his open legs, and Taehyung almost gasped when he saw two fingers steadily moving inside and out of Jimin’s entrance.

That was the moment when Taehyung’s brain finally awoke, and now it was telling him to turn the fuck over and forget what he just watched. His brain was urging him to stop watching, pretend to sleep and go back to dreamland. But for some reason his body didn’t listen to the command, because he never moved and his eyes never left Jimin’s figure.

His friend was unaware of him, luckily, because he kept his desperate rhythm. The wet noises were louder now, or that’s how they sounded to Taehyung. Wet and vulgar. ‘Turn around’, his brain commanded but he was too impressed to do so.

It wasn’t the first time he had seen other members jerking off. Living together for so long, in such a small place was impossible to not walk in someone else’s doing it. He couldn’t count how many times he walked inside his room to see Namjoon with his pants down, or the amount of times he forgot to knock on the bathroom to find Hoseok or Jin jerking in front of the mirror. He even could recall the time he found Jungkook under a blanket in the middle of the night jerking himself while watching Overwatch porn.

And he had been found too. Not just by his members, he had to admit, but by some of the staff too. But who could blame him? He was in need of privacy and if they walked on him with his hand on his cock, they were the guilty ones.

So he had seen a lot from his friends. But why this night was different? Why he couldn’t take his eyes from the sinful view? Oh yeah, those fingers. It was the first time he saw something like that and he was thinking to himself if Jimin didn’t feel pain, because that must hurt right? But Jimin’s face wasn’t agonizing, but all the contrary, he looked as if he was experiencing the most pleasurable feeling of the world. And the noises he was making, although quiet, were carnal. Taehyung was overwhelmed.

His body started to react to the scene, which was normal, right? How can you see something like that and don’t feel anything? Jimin looked so wrong, for some reason Taehyung imagined him like an angel being corrupted. Maybe because he had blond hair again and that only made him look more angelic, or maybe because he had his eyes closed and that made him look younger, but it was such a contrast to think of his sweet friend doing something like that. Fingering himself open.

Jimin ran his thumb against the tip of his dick and let a guttural sound, which traveled directly to Tae’s dick. Fuck, he thought.

Without thinking too much Tae moved his hand towards his dick, needing the sweet contact. He melted when he finally took himself and started stroking cautiously, too aware of the sounds he could be doing. But Jimin was in his own world, and Taehyung’s silent sounds were almost imperceptible. Tae couldn’t stop staring at Jimin’s fingers disappearing underneath him, and couldn’t avoid his mind to wander what would Jimin feel if instead of his fingers were Taehyung’s doing that. His were so much longer, wouldn’t that feel better? Was it wrong to think that? His mind was too fuzzy to even answer his own question, and a noise made by Jimin saved him from trying to answer.

Jimin purred when he inserted a third finger and Tae’s mouth went slack. How could he fit three fingers there? It had to be really tight, right? And probably warm, his mind informed him and he almost moaned imagining it, but now it wasn’t his fingers what he was thinking about, but his dick. How would it feel to be buried inside of Jimin? To be the one making him gasp like that?

“Fuck, yes, harder.” Jimin murmured and his rough voice traveled directly towards Taehyung. His blood was now buzzing, roaring in his ears.

What was Jimin thinking? Did he imagine someone doing that to him? Who?

For some reason Taehyung got jealous of whatever girl was on Jimin’s head, not because he was imagining someone but because he didn’t know who it was. He was supposed to know everything about his best friend, so why he couldn’t come up with a name? Jimin hadn’t showed interest in someone recently. He used to talk about this or that girl, but his crushes always ended abruptly. So who could she be? Maybe a new idol, since they were at an awards ceremony tonight maybe Jimin’s eyes were caught by a new girl. Or maybe one of their make-up artists? Taehyung himself was feeling attracted by one of them right now, so it wouldn’t be too wrong to think that.

“Mhmm, more.” The blond purred and Taehyung felt as if he was being struck by lightning.

He wasn’t thinking about a girl. But a boy. Why he didn’t made the connection before? And why was he making it now? He blamed his sleepy head for that, but it made sense. And also pissed him off more, because now not only he didn’t know who his friend was thinking of but he also didn’t know he liked boys.

In his stupor he was about to get his friend attention and demand him to know, but luckily Jimin used that exact moment to make the neediest sound Taehyung had ever heard. The sound was too loud and that was enough to alert Jimin of his surrounding, because in an instant his eyes were open and turned towards Taehyung. But Tae was faster and his eyes closed before getting discovered.

He had his heart on his throat, not just by his arousal but the panic of being caught staring at his best friend. He was waiting to be shouted at, or even hit for being a pervert. But none of that happened. He counted to five, his hand still wrapped around his erection and Jimin didn’t say a thing. Instead, he let another gasp, making Taehyung more aroused. He couldn’t dare to open his eyes in fear of being discovered but couldn’t stop touching himself.

He heard what appeared to be Jimin spitting on his hand, and then he could hear how his movements went faster, if that was possible. Jimin wasn’t trying to be quiet anymore, probably thinking that Taehyung was way too asleep too hear him. Taehyung speed his movements too, biting on his lip to hide his quiet moans.

“You feel so fucking good.” The blond moaned and Tae bit his own moan back.

Jimin’s breathing turned shaky and Taehyung had to resist the urge to watch him come. What was he thinking? Was he imagining someone opening him with his fingers? Or better yet, fucking him? Because God forgive him, Taehyung was imagining just that. He could picture himself over his small friend, his cock entering him frantically just as Jimin seemed to need.

“Fuck, shit.” His best friend cried out and Taehyung felt himself getting tense.

His orgasm was a blessing. His whole body tensed but he didn’t stop not even when Jimin stopped his litany of curses. He couldn’t stop. He had fire in his abdomen and Jimin’s dirty words were making him feel light-headed. He came all over his abdomen and hand. But he didn’t mind that he got all sticky. His body felt completely pleasured for thinking about those things. He stroked himself a couple more of times and then dared to open his eyes.

Jimin was breathing hard, his now flaccid cock over his naked abs, which were covered in cum. Taehyung licked his lips instinctively and then Jimin started to caress his abdomen with the hand he was using to jerk himself. He had his eyes closed and Tae’s went wide when he collected his cum and licked his fingers clean.

Fuck. He thought.

Or said because Jimin’s eyes went open and Taehyung cursed himself closing his eyes again, praying not to be caught. Someone on heaven must have really liked him, he thought, because Jimin didn’t discover him again. Instead he left his bed and went to lock himself on the bathroom, probably to clean himself. Taehyung opened his eyes and let a huge exhalation.

“Fuck.” He said to the night too tired to think of something smarter.

Quietly he cleaned himself with some tissues he found on the night stand, regretting now having come over himself like a teen, not just over his abdomen but over his shirt. He couldn’t go to the bathroom to change it, and had to sleep with it. Fuck. He rolled on his left side and tried to conjure sleep, even if his head was buzzing with the picture of Jimin pleasuring himself joined by needy sounds.

He must have fallen asleep somewhere between his recounts of the success because when he opened his eyes again it was morning and Hoseok was moving his shoulders, too aggressive to have been the first time he was trying to wake him up. Tae turned to the bed next to his, and found it empty.

“Where’s Jimin?” he asked to Hoseok, his voice roughed by sleep and he cringed at the sound.

“Good morning to you too sunshine.” His friend rolled his eyes. “He is having breakfast with Jin. I can’t believe you woke up so late, we all tried to wake you, you know? It’s almost as if…”

Hoseok stopped his phrase and Tae raise his eyebrow at him. The dancer shook his head and smiled at him sheepishly.

“Just something that Yoongi said. That you were sleeping as if you had fucked yesterday.”

Hoseok probably was expecting him to laugh, but Taehyung was too concentrated remembering yesterday’s events. No, he didn’t fucked. But he had wanted.

He found Jimin later that day after he took a shower (and throw his shirt to the trash can) and was almost expecting him to act different. Maybe more gay, or something. But Jimin was the same as always, he saluted him and even mocked him about how weird he looked sleeping. It was as if he and the boy fucking his fingers yesterday were two different people. But they weren’t, and Taehyung was mesmerized by the differences.

He wanted. No. He needed to approach his friend and talk about what happened yesterday. Or more specifically about Jimin’s sexual preferences. That was something he needed to know as his best friend, he was sure. Maybe Jimin was scared to reveal it, and Tae was just being kind to approach the subject first. Right?

But even if he wanted to do it, their day was too busy to try anything.

They had an interview first and Tae got seated between Jungkook and Jimin. Jimin was wearing the sweater he gifted him on his last birthday and for some reason that struck Taehyung. He looked good. He always did, but he looked better now.

“I didn’t know you bring that sweater.” He found himself saying between takes.

“Uh? Oh yes, I wanted to wear it. It’s really comfortable.” The boy smiled.

“It looks good on you.” Tae mumbled and Jimin said thank you.

They went back to the interview but Tae couldn’t stop staring at him now. It wasn’t as if he had changed, not really, but something did change. His hands seemed smaller inside the big sleeves, Taehyung thought. And he remembered how his small fingers had looked yesterday getting inside and out of his entrance.

“Is there something wrong?” Jimin asked and Tae answered almost in a haze.

“Your hands are so small.”

“Are you trying to make fun of me?”

“No. I just. I mean, it’s more noticeable with that sweater.”

Jimin stared at his hands wondering and Taehyung couldn’t resist to grab his hand. It was nothing he haven’t done before, but an electric shock went through his arm doing so. His breath hitched and Jimin locked his eyes with Tae’s.

“S-See. Mine look so long now.” Tate stuttered looking at the hands instead.

“Yes they are.” Jimin agreed but his voice was different from before, maybe he was thinking how they would feel down below? No, no. He didn’t sound different, it was just on Tae’s imagination. Right? “You sure you’re okay Tae? You look distracted. Something happened?”

Just that I watched you masturbate yesterday and it might had woken something inside of me. He thought. But instead he said something else.

“Did something happened to you yesterday? I thought I heard something, but it must have been my dreams.”

Jimin got all red and immediately separated his hand with Tae’s.

“You must have dream it.”

Why was he so cute blushing? Tae wanted to know.

“Did you call me cute?” Jimin asked and now it was Tae’s turn to get red in the face.

“I-I did, didn’t I?” he laughed trying to come up with something, but his mind was blank. Or instead, it was filled with the memories of Jimin moaning while jerking himself off. Was he blushing yesterday like today? It was too dark to know. “You look cute. With my sweater. I- I already say that.”

“Yeah you did.” Jimin exhaled and Tae licked his lips slowly, noticing now how big and puffy his friend’s lips were. Were they always like that?


The voice of Namjoon stirred them from their conversation, and Jimin even jumped on his seat eyes wide open. All of the members were watching them, waiting for an answer to a question not Jimin or Tae had heard.

“Sorry, you were saying?”

“You two are always on your own world.” Hoseok reprimanded them, but his tone of voice was sweet.

And that had Tae thinking, because yes, they had their own world. Didn’t they? They talked about everything and forgot about the rest of the world.

“I was asking what you are going to say if they ask about your relationship with Taemin.” Namjoon continued and Jimin blushed again.


“Yes, I think everyone will be curious after watching both of you perform last year. They might wonder if you’re still on contact.”

“Oh right.” Jimin mumbled too quickly. “I’ll tell them the true. That we text sometimes.”

Taehyung stared at him. Did they? Why he didn’t know that? Was he thinking about Taemin yesterday?

Yes, he was attractive, and knew how to dance, but he wasn’t for Jimin. Jimin needed someone more funny, someone who knew how to make him laugh. Someone bigger, he decided too. Someone with longer fingers to…Stop! He reprimanded himself hitting his cheeks twice. He had to stop thinking about that. Yesterday was acceptable because it was late, and he was tired and it happened too fast. Now it wasn’t the time.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked him, and Tae found everyone’s eyes on him. Even Jimin’s.

“Yes! Why are you asking? I’m really good!”

Thankfully it wasn’t the first time Taehyung acted that way and the rest just let him be.

Next it was a photoshoot. Jimin was paired with Yoongi, and Taehyung sat on the floor watching them pose together. They looked good, as always, but now Tae couldn’t stop thinking that they looked too comfortable around each other. Jimin was laying his head on yoongi’s lap, and between takes the older stroked Jimin’s hair. Jimin seemed to melt to the touch, closing his eyes every time the fingers of his friend brushed his scalp. Taehyung heard small gasps coming from Jimin’s lips, and weren’t they like the ones he had heard yesterday?

“Are you tired?” Yoongi asked to Jimin and the latter one nodded.

“I went to bed late.”

“It wasn’t my fault, right?”

“No! No! I was playing with my phone.”

Yoongi’s fault? Why it could be Yoongi’s fault? Was he missing something?

“What did you do Yoongi?” he asked trying to sound uninterested, but his voice came too aggressive, even for his ears. “I mean, why it had to be your fault?”

The older shrugged. “I was texting Jimin in the night.”

“About what?”

“Not your business boy. Now go to do your make up.”

But it was his business. Jimin was his business, especially if he was blushing when Yoongi mentioned the texts. What were they texting about? Maybe Yoongi said something to Jimin and that made him feel aroused. Maybe he was thinking about Yoongi while he was fingering himself yesterday. Jimin had mentioned before that Yoongi’s fingers were good, he was referring that he knew how to play the piano well, but it could be the same thing.

“I won’t bother you.” Tae spitted, and went away letting the couple alone.

Why was he angry? Because his friend was keeping secrets to him? Because he was thinking about Yoongi instead of…? Instead of who? Him? No, he wasn’t mad about that, he could think about whoever he liked! He could think about Jungkook or Jin, and it didn’t matter to him.


“Ugh.” He groaned when he found his seat in front of the mirror. Namjoon was on the chair next to him. His photos were going to be taken with their leader, and that’s why he was getting ready too.

“Okay, spit it. What’s going on with you today? And don’t say nothing because it’s clear that there’s something. It’s almost as if you were a bomb ready to explode.”

“I don’t know. I’m confused.”

“That’s good. At least you know that there is something. What are you confused about?”

He couldn’t tell him. It was impossible to him say that he had seen Jimin jerking himself in the most lustful way possible, and now he was thinking about who Jimin was thinking while doing it.

“I can’t. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Is this about a girl?”

Tae opened his eyes and Namjoon smiled embarrassedly.

“Love affairs are usually confusing.”

“I’m not. It’s not that.” Tae rushed to say, because it was nothing like that. “It’s just that I found something, and because of that now I can’t look at someone as I used to.”

“Something bad?”

Not really. It was a big surprise to know that his friend liked to do that to himself, but it wasn’t bad.

“No. But it made me notice more things about this person.”

“So, now you feel different for this person.”

“No?” he said but thought about how he had felt when he touched Jimin’s hand. “Yes? I don’t know!”

“I’m sorry I can’t help you without knowing the whole story.” Tae just blinked at him and Namjoon laughed. “I know you don’t want to tell me, and I respect you, it’s private. My advice is to talk with that person. If you can’t tell them what is on your mind ,at least that can put your mind at rest, knowing that no matter what happened you can still talk with that someone.”

Tae nodded. He had already thought of talking to Jimin. Namjoon patted him on the head and then they were rushed to get their hair and make-up done, and that was all for the talk.

He posed with Namjoon. Their concept was sexy, they were supposed to be these friends checking a girl out, trying to seduce her, and the girl had to be confused about which boy she liked better. But for some reason Tae couldn’t make a good expression, his mind still stuffed with thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated when the photograph told him he looked distracted.

“You still thinking about that don’t you?” Namjoon asked and Tae nodded. He was doomed. “You can think about a girl you like. That helps. It can help you with your dilemma and also with the photos. Just think about a girl with good legs, or nice ass.”

“Namjoon!” Tae whimpered flustered.

“Is not like you don’t think about that! I’m just trying to help.”

Taehyung had to agree and asked the photograph to start again. He tried to focus on what Namjoon suggested, conjuring a girl on his mind. Some unnamed girl with good ass and pretty legs. There was a girl he liked to see dance on YouTube, and he focused on her, on the way she moved her hips. He tried to imagine himself at her dance studio, trying to seduce her with his eyes.

That must’ve work because the photograph was now taking the photos without difficulty. Tae continued with his fantasy, and now the girl was dancing a different song, one that had her moving more frantically, a dance cover he had seen a while ago. In his head she was dancing Lie. And then the girl turned into Jimin and he was adding stuff to the choreography, his hands were touching his legs and chest sensually, just like he was doing yesterday.

Jimin chose exactly that moment to appear on the photoshoot behind the photographer and Tae couldn’t tear his eyes from him. He took a shower and his hair was damped sticking to his forehead. Jimin licked his lips and the Jimin on his imagination did the same, but slower, inviting Tae to get closer and taste him.

“That’s a wrap!” The photograph announced and Namjoon clapped along other staff members. “You did amazing at the end Taehyung. Your fans are going to faint.”

He was barely listening now. Jimin was still looking at him, playing with the ends of his sweater, Tae’s gift.  The Jimin on his mind faded.

“I heard you were having trouble with the photos.” Jimin told him getting closer. “I came to help, but you seemed more in focus than never.”

“I didn’t need your help.” He brushed him walking away from him.

“Hey! Are you mad at me? Is because of what Yoongi said? We didn’t talk about anything exciting if that’s what have you angry.”

“That’s not it!” Why was he mad? Because he had imagined Jimin wanted to kiss him? “That’s not it.” He repeated, more to himself than to Jimin.

“Then what is it?” Jimin asked and Tae had enough of it.

He walked the distance that was separating them and grabbed his friend by the shoulders.

“When were you going to tell me that you still talk with Taemin?”

He didn’t know why he was saying that, he didn’t care about Taemin. But he did, or else, why was he thinking about him when his mind was screaming at him that he had wanted to kiss Jimin for a split of second? He was so confused, and it was because of that stupid night, how he wanted to return to that moment and force himself to go back to sleep.

“What does Taemin have to do with this?” Jimin asked and Taehyung exhaled frustrated.

“Everything! You’re keeping things from me.” That you’re gay for example, he thought. “First Taemin, then Yoongi. We’re supposed to be friends!”

“I don’t have to tell you everything.”

“Why not? I tell you everything!”

“You don’t, you keep secrets as well, and we all do Tae.”

“I don’t. Not with you. I love you.” He shut his mouth at that, watching Jimin get blush, even if it wasn’t the first time Tae had said those words. But now they felt different. Did they? “I love you Jimin, you’re my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend too Tae. And don’t worry, not Taemin nor Yoongi are replacing you.”

Hearing those words filled Taehyung with relief. Maybe he wasn’t angry at Jimin, or at those other persons. Maybe he wasn’t even confused about his feelings towards his best friend, maybe he was just scared to be replaced. That had to be. Right?

“Now come on, let’s go to the hotel. I stayed waiting for you and now I’m starving.”

Jimin stretched his arm and Tae took it, feeling relaxed for the first time since they started the photoshoot.

Later that night Taehyung couldn’t sleep. The rest of the day went normal, or as normal as it could be after having a mini emotional attack. Jimin stood at his side during the whole time, they eat on their room and Jimin told him that Yoongi had asked his opinion about a new song he was writing. He also showed him some of his conversations with Taemin, and Taehyung was glad to know they only talked about dancing, and sometimes about music. Nothing more, they didn’t talk about their dreams and insecurities, like Tae did with Jimin.

Still there was an elephant in the room with them. He felt different around Jimin, as if every move Jimin did now required his attention. He felt that in any second his friend would become someone different.

“What do you think about Jackson?” he found himself asking and Jimin turned to him confused.

“Jackson who?”

“Wang. From GOT7”

“I don’t know him that well.” He replied, busy staring at his napkins. “He’s funny, I guess.”

“And hot.” Taehyung said and Jimin’s breathe hitched.

“I never thought about that.”

“And G. Dragon? You think him attractive?”

“What are you trying to say Tae?” Jimin asked, but Tae noticed that he was decidedly not looking at him at the eyes, and his ears were red.

I want you to tell me you find guys attractive. He wanted to say, but how could he? He waved the conversation with a hand and that was it. They finished their food and went to sleep. Just that Taehyung couldn’t sleep.

So many things had happened in less than 24 hours and his mind was slowly trying to recapitulate. Starting with those damn fingers and ending with the way Jimin had licked his lips while watching Taehyung’s photoshoot. Now he wasn’t just thinking about how his finger would feel inside of Jimin, but also about how his lips would taste like. He let his mind wonder, safe by the night and the silence. He could allow himself think about all of this during the night and that didn’t mean anything, right?

His friend had woken something inside of him, and now it was impossible to shut the little voice asking what ifs. What if he tried the same Jimin did? What if he stripped now and fingered himself? Will he like that?

What if he told Jimin he saw him? What if he asked him to let him watch again?

That last surprised him. But realized that he actually wanted that. Had been thinking about it subconsciously all day.

And the last one. What if he kissed Jimin?

“Yes?” a sleepy voice startled him and he found Jimin squinting his eyes at him. His friend found his glasses and was staring at Taehyung. “You called my name.”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was doing so.”

“Did you have a nightmare?”

Maybe it was the night, or the ‘what ifs’ still swimming on his head. Or maybe it was that Jimin looked so puffy and angelic after being asleep, but Taehyung found himself asking something he had wanted to ask since yesterday.

“Have you kissed a boy?”

That woke him up. Coughing. Jimin searched for his glass of water over the night stand, and after drinking he looked at Taehyung, surprise written on his face.

“I-I. Not. Why are you asking?”

“I wonder what it feels like.”

Jimin was seating now, his knees too close to Tae’s who had been seating since the beginning of the conversation. They were so close, he thought, that he could stretch his arm and touch his knee.

“That’s why you had been so weird?” Jimin asked and Tae nodded. “You kissed Hoseok.”

Tae cringed at the memory. “That wasn’t real. It was a game. I mean, what it feels to actually kiss. Like a real kiss.”

“I don’t know.” Jimin exhaled and Tae noticed his friend was leaning towards him. Involuntary. Right? “I never done it.”

Good. Tae thought and allowed the thought to flood his mind. Jimin had never kissed a boy. Not Taemin. Not Yoongi.

“Do you want to…?” Tae found himself stuttering. But Jimin was still listening, and his eyes seemed so puffy behind his eyes, and his lips looked bigger on the night. And Tae found the courage to ask. “Do you want to try?”

“It won’t be awkward, isn’t?” he asked but he was leaning closer.

“No. We’re friends. That’s what friends are for. Right?”

“Right.” Jimin answered and then got closer.

In a second they were kissing. Jimin’s lips were wet. That was the first thing Taehyung’s noticed. The second one was that he was soft, and warm. He let himself melt over the kiss, caressing his lips with his own. Jimin then sucked his lower lip and Taehyung almost cried at the sensation. Jimin was too good at this, he decided. He thanked God he was seating or else, he would’ve fallen a while ago. Timidly he licked his friend’s lips, asking something he couldn’t express on his head, but Jimin understood because he was opening his mouth letting him in. Taehyung licked the roof of his friend’s mouth and Jimin moaned.

Taehyung felt intoxicated. Jimin’s moans were traveling directly to his member and he found himself smiling, because he was the one responsible for those sounds. No one else. Jimin breathed on the kiss, and Tae shivered. His friend played with his tongue for a couple of seconds and Taehyung wasn’t sure who was making the sounds now, but they were needy and heavy.

How long had it been? He wondered when they separated. Five seconds. Five hours. Forever and too damn fast, he thought.

Jimin was puffier than before, and was smiling at him. Taehyung could swear his own smile was going to break his face in half. Was it possible to feel this good?

“That was…” the blond breathed and Tae nodded.

“It was.”

How was he able to breath? Or to put together a coherent phrase? He felt drunk.

“We should go to sleep.” Jimin interrupted Tae’s fuzzy mind.

“I don’t think I can.”

Jimin laughed at that and Tae wanted nothing more than kiss him again, and feel his laugh on his mouth.

“We have to try. Let’s talk in the morning. Okay?”

Tae nodded, he could do that. Or he could kiss Jimin in the morning again. Yes. He decided. He would do that. Jimin laughed again and dived on his bed, burying his head on his pillow. Taehyung thought he was the cutest boy he had seen. Reluctantly he rested his head over his own pillow, his lips still tingling.

“Goodnight Tae.” Jimin murmured.


And then Jimin closed his eyes. But Taehyung couldn’t. What was going on inside of his friend’s head? He could only hope he was thinking at least half of what he was thinking. He wouldn’t survive a heart broken.

anonymous asked:

Can you do an alpha!doomfist x omega!reader, where he gets out of prison and finds her and she can't believe he's finally back with her and it's just very fluffy with a lot of holding please?

((I may have absolutely butchered some of the terms of endearment. I searched for Yoruba terms of endearment and came up with these. If this is incorrect or if the usage is wrong, please reach out to me, always ready to correct any errors I make!))

There was someone in the room with you.

You mentally cursed as you became acutely aware of the presence of another within the room, the muted scent of Alpha barely tickling your nose. It should not have been easy to get into your home. There were supposed to be safeguards in place; a security system installed by one of Talon’s finest security firms, the dog Akande had gifted your mere months before he had been imprisoned. The house itself was away from the bustling city of Numbani, existing close enough to the city for the residence to be registered there but far enough away that you had a kilometer of land in all directions.

It was implied that you were no longer welcomed within the confines of the city and you had almost prefered it that way. While no crimes had been pinned onto you, you were the mate to an international ‘criminal’. You had been Akande Ogundimu’s mate long before he had become Doomfist, before he had lost his arm and before his ‘fall from the world’s grace’. While it had once gained you the envy of any that laid eyes on the multi-talented business man, it had now earned you the ire of those that resented his tactics for the betterment of humankind. While some were fine with words, others thought they should hit him where they know it could truly hurt especially when they knew he could do nothing about it. You, however, were not the helpless omega they often believed you to be. They thought you a wilting flower, a ‘typical’ submissive, domestic Omega who attracted Akande to you with your meek nature. And this was the image you preferred to uphold. But one did not become the mate of one of the greatest tacticians and martial artists without learning some of his ways.

You shifted as slightly as you could, your hand inching upwards cautiously, fingers wrapping tight around the thin telescopic baton beneath your pillow. You kept your breathing even, steady, listening as the near silent footsteps made their way closer and closer to you. With a hard snap of the wrist you extended the baton to its full length before twisting in your bed, letting out a low grunt as you arced the weapon towards the intruder. They caught your wrist effortlessly, their grip snug but not painful, a low threatening growl leaving your throat as you tried to yank away.

“Ìfẹ́-ọkàn mi… is this any way to welcome me home?”

It felt as if your heart stopped and drummed all at once, your eyes going round as the sound of that voice–his voice–poured over you. Slowly your gaze drifted upwards until your eyes locked with warm brown eyes. For the first time in years, it felt as if you could truly breathe, your hands releasing the baton as you clumsily surged forward. Akande’s rich laugh poured over you as he smoothly pulled you up into his arms, a choked sob wresting its way from your lips as your arms tightened about his neck. Your hands shook as they danced over him; his face, his shoulders, grazing against his mark in unbelieving astonishment.

Pressing your face into his shoulder you took a deep breath and practically whimpered. His scent was contained and dampened, but beneath the layers of obvious suppressants, it was there; smelling of ube fruit and anise, rippling undertones of rich earth and ozone. You had wanted this for so long, it felt as if you were still in a dream, the only thing tethering you to the fact that it was reality was the solid feel of him beneath your touch. You could hear, could feel the low rumble of contentment that vibrated through his chest, your hands tightening around the edge of his tank top before your eyes lifted back up to his.

“Olùfẹ́ mi”, you stated breathlessly, tears rolling down your face as a wide grin creased your lips. “Welcome home…what took you so long?”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you watched a smile crease his face before a bark of a laugh left his lips as he stood with you and did a small spin. You laughed for the first time in ages, your legs kicking back, his hold about your waist tightening as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours.

“You know oyin mi I do not move until the time is right”, he stated matter-of-factly before dipping his head down and pressing a long kiss against you mark. “I have missed you, my joy.”

You purred, nails gently scratching at his shoulder as he nuzzled, unable to mark you yet but allowing your scent to mark him. You whined when he pulled back before sighing as he pressed a hard kiss to your lips. You melted under his show of affection, your body going lax against his. Life had been breathed into you, warmth coursing through you as your weakened connection re-established itself, settling the discourse that had wracked you all the years he had been away. Reluctantly, you pulled away from one another when oxygen demanded it, Akande warily lowering you down to the ground. Your brow pinched together in confusion, wanting to disregard the obvious notion that he couldn’t stay, wanting to steal several more moments with the man, your Alpha. But the risk was too high and you would never forgive yourself if you were the reason why he ended up back in jail.

Akande gently cupped your face, your hand instantly lifting up and holding it there as you twisted your face to press hard kisses into his palm. Your eyes were wet again, an arc of sadness tinging the reunion, the tall man smiling down at your affectionately.

“I will send for you when it is safe”, he stated, answering the silent question of ‘when’ that was written all over your face. He paused for a moment, tearing his gaze away as a small device in his pocket began to beep incessantly. A frown tinged his features before his eyes returned to you, a torn smile on his full lips. “I have to leave now if I am going to make it out of Numabni.”

“Then I will wait for you onítèmi.”

“I love you, my omega.”

“I love you too, my Alpha. Be safe.”

He pressed one last kiss to your lips before dashing out of the room and down the stairs. Dropping back onto your bed, you sighed, a swell of happiness filling your chest as you ran your hand down the back of your neck. There would be no more sleeping this evening.

((Ìfẹ́-ọkàn mi-desire of my heart

Olùfẹ́ mi-my (male) lover

oyin mi-my honey

onítèmi-Owner of mine (my love) ))

I Can't Believe I'm-No, We're Doing This (Cisco Ramon X Reader)

NSFW! SMUT! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT MENTALLY MATURE! (I’m not gonna judge you 13 year olds who want some of Cisco.) Christ my future jobs are gonna find this. And this isn’t even good smut, it’s the first time I’ve posted smut. Damn me and my sexual frustration. I hope you all are satisfied.

“Stop teasing him (Y/N). All the low tops and short skirts are driving that man crazy.” Barry laughed, shaking his head.

I giggled, glancing at Cisco from the left side of the cortex. He tried to hide that he was staring, but failed, quite badly.

“I’m not even wearing anything that bad Barry. Just a tank top and leggings.” I said innocently, flicking my gaze back to Cisco’s flustered form.

“Leggings two sizes too small, and a tank top that literally has everything hanging out. Class, not sass (Y/N).”

Caitlin walked to stand next to us, a tray of samples in her hand. Her comment had me in a fit of giggles,
Nearly knocking myself over. Suddenly, a thought came to my head.

“If I stole him away for maybe 20-30 minutes, do you guys promise to try and not find us.” I whispered, my grin widening at their nods. Barry nodded at me, before dragging Caitlin away.
I ruffled my hair, getting quite giddy at the prospects.

Alright, I’ve only done this a few times, so I was still rusty. But hey, I can be sexy if I want too. And if my boyfriend didn’t find me sexy, we were gonna have a problem.

I walked towards the computers, leaning my body against the back so I was looking down at Cisco. The rail just presented my boobs even more.

“Ciscoooo.” I sang, watching with a loving smile as he flicked his eyes up and caught my figure.

“You sing like that again and I’ll fuck you till you can’t stand.”

My heart sped at his words, watching as he began to rub his temples in an attempt to concentrate. So loyal to his work, one of the many more reasons to love him.

My inner self was practically drooling at what he said, wanting him to have at it right now, not caring about who saw. I had to calm myself, clearing my throat to catch his attention. His looked at me again, practically daring me to try anything.

“Ciscoooo please don’t ignore me.” I purred, letting the notes role off of my tongue. I was shocked when he stood out of his chair suddenly, walking around the computers to grab my hand.

“I warned you.” He said, dragging me out of the cortex. As we left, I caught sight of Barry throwing a thumbs up.

As we entered the hallway, he slammed me against the wall, the lust dancing in his eyes as he scanned my body hungrily. This side of him drove me wild. The silly side had basically just jumped into a bush to watch as the more hungry side too over. He leaned forward slowly, just to tease me more.

“Did you seriously do all of that this week just to rile me up?” He asked, the more inquisitive voice of his returning. I nodded, biting my lip to suppress a grin. He shook his head, grinning, before finally slamming his lips to mine.

This was not other kiss he’d ever given. This was lust filled, hungry, and powerful. And I sure as hell wanted to know what else he could do. I moaned softly into the contact, trying to press my body further up against his. His movements were calculated, precise, like he knew every trigger that would make me lose it.

The slight grinding, the growling, the hand placement. It was as if he just watched me, trying to see what would get a reaction from me. Damn, was he right about it all.

After five minutes of just pulling at the rubber band that connected our two primal instincts, waiting for it to snap, I pulled back.

“Let’s go back to your lab.” I suggested with a whisper. The smile that appeared on his face clearly indicated his thoughts.

“Lead the way Princess.”

I slipped out from underneath him, sprinting down the hallway towards his office. I heard his footsteps following close behind, and the feeling of excitement that was building in my core was insane. The less rational side of me wanted him to fuck me senseless in the hallway, but we both knew that was a horrible idea.

Just as I stepped through his door, I felt him run in, slamming the door. Before I could turn around, he had his arms around his waist, and he sat me hungrily down on one of his tables. He just swiped stuff off of the desk, letting it crash to the floor.

“So when Harry does it, you get ticked. But when it’s me, you don’t care?” I teased, tangling one of my hands in his hair.

“If it means I can do this every time, I will break every object in this room.”

I giggled, bringing his head back to mine, pressing kisses from his forehead, down his nose, and along his jaw. When I got to his ear, I bit down gently, causing his to moan my name quietly.

He started tugging at my shirt, and I finally allowed him to pull it off. Nothing too fancy, just a soft pink bra laid under my shirt. Suddenly, my head traveled to my imperfections, leaving Cisco alone with my shell.

“Princess?” He asked, recognizing the look in my eyes. He used to get this way, judging the many things that made up him. He hated that point in his life, and to see his girlfriend’s expression hold the same sadness, it crushed him.

“(Y/N), hey, look at me.” He said finally, pulling the my head into his hands. I snapped out of my gaze, finally falling back to earth.

“Stop it. I know that gaze anywhere. Judgment. Regret. Just stop. Everything about you is absolutely perfect. No one can tell you otherwise.” He said, rubbing his thumb in circles on my side, in a calming gesture.

“You are the most incredibly perfect woman I have ever met, and I should say something. I’m the guy about to make you scream my name.”

The loving grin that followed after almost immediately had my spirits lifted. I just giggled, shaking my head before bringing myself back close to him.

(Christ on a Bike, it’s my first smut. End me.)

The feeling of soft, yet calloused hands making there way into the hem of the leggings I wore, catching on the edge of the underwear I currently had on caused me to hum in excitement. Cisco’s kisses gave me the extra boost, not wanting to wait much longer.

Go big or go home, I guess.

I suddenly kicked off my shoes, before pulling the leggings I had on swiftly off. I was now left in nothing but my bra and underwear, while Cisco, the little cheater, still had everything on. I grinned, moving to try and unbuckle his pants, but I was stopped by him literally bending me backwards until I laid flat against the desk.

He had my heart rate through the roof from his smile alone, but the feeling of something pressing to the space in between my legs had me breathless. Cisco moved his hand slowly, trying to make sure every inch of me was explored beneath his grasp.

I was putty in his hands, moaning his name increasingly more and more with each movement of his fingers that he made. I hadn’t even seen him unbuckle his belt, for my core had made my vision go hazy from the stimulation. Suddenly, he ripped my panties off of my legs, leaving me exposed to the cold air of the room.

“I can’t believe I’m- no, we’re doing this.” He whispered, laying against me. I felt a completely different appendage brush against my entrance, causing me to moan slightly.

“Dammit Cisco.” I mumbled, trying to slow my heart so I didn’t give myself a heart attack. I curled my hands into his t-shirt, smiling as I read the words ‘Han Shot First’. He just grinned, pressing himself further into me. My core was practically begging me to just slide down, that’s all it took to have him inside of me, but I waited.

“Impatient are we?” He asked, the smugness returning to his grin. His eyes were lust filled, but something else danced beneath the surface. Meant for only me. Complete and utter adoration. I rolled my eyes, sliding down on the table, feeling the tip of him enter me slightly.

I moaned again, stifling a laugh before commenting.

“Sorry if I tear any of your p-papers.”

Of course I was stuttering, this incredible man chose me, out of all the girls in central city, he chose me, and I was going to enjoy this.

“It’s not problem.” He mumbled, before fully sliding into me. The gasp that escaped my lips was audible, and I immediately found myself winding my fingers into Cisco’s hair.

He groaned softly, the vibrations of it fluttering through me. We locked eyes, before nodding to each other at the same time. In sync, like any good couple should be.

His pace was slow and deliberate, pushing me more and more towards my edge, before dragging me back at the last second. He was practically torturing me.

He tried to keep his moans at a minimum, but I had completely lost it. I was constantly begging him to go faster, screaming his name. He did say he would have me at that point, but not this slow. This was more loving that his original actions, but I knew what he was doing. He knew what he was doing.

At some point, he hit a specific area in me, causing my moan to be louder, and I tugged at his hair. The loud moan that escaped him had me feeling stupid at my forgetfulness. He had told me he was really into his hair being messed with. Especially pulling, and I think I would have to use that to my advantage.

I tugged, and he moaned again, this time, slamming into me faster. Way harder also.

Hell yeah, I found the trigger. Good job (Y/N), putting that brain to good use. Good use being fucking your boyfriend, but still.

I pulled harder, causing him to slam into me again. Oh hell yes. the moan that escaped my mouth was not as loud as his, as he became the one to beg.

“Oh my god (Y/N) why are you s-stoAHH”

Mid sentence, I tugged his hair, half giggling and half moaning as he slammed into me again.

“Trade. You keep up this pace, I’ll keep up mine.” I purred, pulling lightly at his hair. He nodded vigorously, before suddenly, he quickened. I didn’t even have time to adjust before I was a moaning, needy mess. I did keep up my end of the bargain, pulling at his hair with each thrust he took.

It didn’t take long for my core to tighten, and the urge to just let go was getting stronger and stronger. But I didn’t want this to end. I wanted to keep my boyfriend this close and carefree for as long as possible.

He locked eyes with me, and we both shared the same expression. We’re close.

I mumbled an 'I love you’ as I kissed him again, tugging as hard as I ever had at his hair. That’s when he lost it. He quickened again, throwing me over the edge almost instantly, following me not long behind. We stayed connected, trying to calm our tremoring bodies from our high.

Cisco pulled out softly, just gazing down at me.

“Thanks for the pick me up Princess.” He chuckled, gazing lovingly down at me. I pressed a kiss to his nose, suddenly feeling tired from the extremes we had both been at. I could see the weakness in Cisco’s eyes, but he was a lot more determined to stay awake than I.

“Can I sleep on your couch in here for a little bit?” I asked, gazing half lidded up at him. He nodded, finally getting off of me. He buckled up his pants one more, and picked me up bridal style from the table. I had no idea where my underwear went in the ordeal, but Cisco, being the amazing man he was, always kept spare clothes in the labs for me, in case I stayed on a late night with him.

I pulled the new pair of underwear on tiredly, along with a pair of sweatpants and one of Cisco’s meme shirts. I spread out on his couch, smiling sweetly as he laid a blanket across me.

“Alright, I’m gonna head back up to the cortex to try and get some work done, just come up if you need me.” He said gently, leaning down to kiss my forehead. I groggily smiled, nodding.

“That was fun. We should do it again some time.”

“Most definitely.”

Holy fuck. HOLY FUCK I DID IT! I WROTE SMUT! I HOPE YOU SINNERS ARE HAPPY! YOU THIRSTY CHILDREN! It was very artsy tbh, but I like I how I wrote it. Watch out 50 Shades Of Grey, I’m coming to kick your ass.
Sorry if this sucks guys, I wrote it on my iPod.

anonymous asked:

Can you please do an extremely bratty/witty reader with yoongi "I'm going to tie you up so you can't move and you won't be able to stop me from doing whatever I want."

Hi, anon! Thanks for dropping by! For this request, I decided to make it connected to the other smut request I got for Yoongi hihi :> This was un-edited, by the way HAHA so, I’ll apologize if there are any mistakes.

warnings/au: degradation, bondage, cursing, lawyer!reader au
word count: 1.9k

Sunny weather. The smell of the sea. White sand beaches.

The view in your hotel balcony was very ideal, but you were stuck in your room, instead of appreciating the world-class view the beaches of Boracay were offering. Your boyfriend was on his laptop, even if the two of you were in a three-day vacation outside Korea.

Beside you was your boyfriend who was busy editing some songs on his laptop. You could make out some music bars on the screen of his laptop, but you respected his privacy and chose to turn back to blowing bubbles into your iced Americano that was practically just water already. The ice already melted since it had been more than two hours since you called for room service. 

In other words, it’s already been two hours since he promised you that he was ‘going to finish this real quick that you wouldn’t be able to notice it.’

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The rebellion members, paladins and symbolism

I can’t believe my first post EVER is going to be an analysis inspired by an edit.

(sorry in advance for any grammar errors, this isn’t my first language)

So, has anyone noticed how each alien race that joined the resistance so far kind of represent each paladin minus Shiro?

  • Galra (rebel)s: Keith
  • Mermaids: Lance
  • Balmeras: Hunk
  • Olkarins: Pidge

(Idk if Arusians are actually countable since they’re really primitives)

And then there’s Shiro. That poor guy doesn’t even have an alien race who represents him.

…or does he?

Before we go further, let’s point out how each of those alien races represent not only The paladins, but also their elements (and their Lions, kinda):

  • Galras, who are connected to Keith were in posses of the Red lion in ep1, and I can’t remember where, but I’m sure at one point in an episode there were both fire and the Galra empire in the same place, I think it was when they destroyed Altea I guess?
  • Mermaids, Lance, Water, Blue being op in the water and unlocking her power-up there. Need something else?
  • Balmeras, again, Hunk, earth, maybe no power-up here but he unlocked it when he was saving those guys in s2 trying to hold the earth in its place while they were waiting for emo and princess
  • Olkarins, Pidge, forest, unlocked power. I think you understood the point

Shiro Is The Black Paladin, whom we Can all agree that represents space, and he’s without doubts the team leader (S2 final doesn’t fool me, I know he’ll be back), and which is that one race whose only survivors are travelling across space and are the leaders of the rebellion?

Yep. You got it. Alteans.

And it fits, doesn’t it? The leader of the team who use the only weapon that Can defeat the Galra Empire being represented by the alien race leader of the rebellion.Besides, a parallelism:

Both Shiro and Altea were “destroyed” by Galras, and now they’re both fighting against it (Altea intended as Coran, Allura and the Castle), recovering from their loss, but still kind of connected trought something to those purple furries (Shiro and his arm, Alteans and Zarkon as exBPaladin and Haggar or Lotor maybe? I hope they get a good background). Besides, it’s not really new this symbolism kinda thing on Voltron (S1e6 bg, Shiro’s right arm being Galra and Keith being the right arm of Voltron, and so goes on. I know these are seen more like jokes, but someone can wish)

One more thing: I’ve seen an Altean!Shiro / Druid!Shiro theory and I’m 90% sure that I reblogged it (I’ll put the link later but right now I can’t due to pc problems but it was made by @smolsarcasticraspberry) so this ramble sort of connects to that? Kinda? Because if him, who we said that represents Altea, whom is permanently damaged by Galras but is fighting back, turns out as Altean, then his heritage, his arm and his PTSD and his fight against it would form a giant-ass physical representation of the twisted story of these poor humanoid, pointy-ears and shapeshifting aliens.

Sorry if I made some grammar mistakes, but english isn’t my first language and I’m not that old to be super-fluent, but I wanted to express my thoughts on this since I’ve never seen a post mentioning this.

booksgivemelifeiswear  asked:

Congrats on the 1k!! I love your writing so much (I can't believe we are mutuals!!) I love the dynamic between Andrew and Wymack so can you write Wymack helping Andrew through some bad days before Neil got into Palmetto?

I’m so, so, so sorry. Tumblr’s notifications come in one every three in a lucky day, apparently ^^” That said, I loved this prompt! Wymack’s the best and his relationship with Andrew is freaking adorable!
I took a page out of Nora’s books, quite literally, where Andrew says coach sold the gun after he kept breaking in…

As far as signing season went, Wymack was used to shit going down. With the kids he recruited it was no surprise, and since he actively searched for them willingly he wasn’t even allowed to complain. Which sucked some serious balls, just to say.

So Wymack pulled another late night discussing with the board about how he left to recruit a player and came back having offered a full scholarship to three. Who cared? It’s not like he had an overabundance of players. He could do with a couple back-liners, Minyard was good and even if Hemmick was rusty Matt could hold his ground like a pro. It would work, so fuck everybody.

He was so tired he didn’t even notice anything wrong until he was already in his bedroom to get changed into something less stuffy than shirt and necktie. There was a rustling sound from his kitchen, a thud and the tingling of some bottles, and David was no idiot enough to believe it was the wind.

There was a gun in his bedside table. He’d had it since he left his mother’s hospital bed, when there was a talk about his father getting out of jail and maybe coming after him. The asshole lost a prison fight before he could make true to his threats, but David had already started building on his dream of second chances and Exy and he kept the weapon, just in case.

Now, he held it in his hands, steady, finger off the trigger until he was sure about what was going on, and he walked slowly down the corridor of his minuscule flat. The sound seemed to come from the living room and after a moment he located it at his liquors cabin.

What a fucker.

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anonymous asked:

Do you have any medieval fics or like fantasy medieval fics I can read? I can't find any :(

Yes! We also have a tag. - Anastasia

Originally posted by ourbeautywilldie

Eyes Like Stars by InTheArmsofaThief

(4/4 I 10,889 I General I Sterek)

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said indignantly. “And don’t think you can try anything on me. It won’t work.” Stiles had been attacked by his own kind before. Stiles wasn’t necessarily strong, but unbridled. And nothing ever seemed to really hurt him.

When the Okami stepped out, it wasn’t what Stiles had been expecting. The wolf was an actual wolf. His sleek black fur was hit by rays of the setting sun, his eyes glistened like rubies and his teeth were sharp. Sharp enough Stiles wondered if they could actually damage him.

“Kira said the village lost all its protectors,” Stiles mused. “Yet here you are.” The wolf growled again. Stiles scoffed. “I don’t blame you for abandoning them. Wouldn’t want to protect them either.”

an exaltation of larks by llassah

(1/1 I 25,370 I Explicit I Sterek)

There are times when he feels as if they could fall into bed together, easy as breathing. If Stiles were not highborn, if he were an omega without connections, Derek would be sorely tempted. As it is, he resists. Derek wants, he yearns, but he resists. Still, the sight of Stiles in his cot is enough to test him, even now that it is familiar. At the end of each lambing season, he sleeps for a week, worn down by months of hard work, of relentless struggle. He doesn’t know how he’ll feel by the time Stiles leaves, how he’ll feel after long days and longer nights spent resisting the insistent tug of Stiles’s scent and the inclinations of his own foolish heart.

All Derek wants is to get through the lambing season with his body and spirit intact. He had thought that the blizzards would be the main danger, not a highborn omega with beautiful eyes and a stubborn streak.

Stardust and Sparks by tomcatgirl

(8/? I 37,866 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles, his father, and his cousins Isaac and Erica must flee from their home country, where magic users are being hunted down and murdered by the mad king Gerard and his murderous beasts. They settle in the neighboring country of Beacon, where Stiles struggles to hide his magic while doing what’s best for his family.

And while the Hales seem like a generous and kind royal family, their silence on topics of magic and monsters that howl in the night don’t endear them to Stiles. And if his magic ties him more closely to the royal family than he realizes, that’s no one’s business but his own.

Fur & Steel by TobyRosetta, xxdeejadoodlexx

(11/21 I 98,669 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek is the last of the Hale bloodline, his kingdom burned to the ground from the witch he mistakenly believed to be an angel. Years later he hears many tales of the Crucible and all its violent, fatal glory. He seeks it in hopes that it’ll aid him in ending his lonely existence. Only, he’s really good at it.

A chance meeting has the handsome and alluring Prince Stiles bantering for his attention when no one else dares to venture near him.

Why can’t Derek seem to turn him away? Why can’t Stiles stop himself from trying?

As their relationship deepens, and their lives twist together, they will come to face immeasurable trials and tribulations. At least they can face them together.

This Was How Legends Were Made by Delta_Immortal

(8/8 I 108,501 I Explicit I Sterek)

Caught between the Hales and the Argents in their war, Stiles finds himself a slave of the great Hale pack. Stiles spends each day working hard, hoping to earn his freedom and see his sick father. It also seems each day he’s capturing more and more attention from Derek, the young Hale lord. Stiles tells himself it’s mostly because Derek is merely trying to figure out how to send the annoying, useless slave away- not because of affection, despite the tales coming from the rumor mill.

It doesn’t matter what Derek’s intentions are. Stiles can’t bother with love right now. He’s got to keep his head down and survive long enough to keep his promise to Kate Argent. After all, she’s promised to keep his father safe.

Dangerous Things by rallamajoop

(18/18 I 143,768 I Explicit I Sterek)

“You want me to hold you down while we do this, Stiles?” says the incubus. In one sudden movement it has Stiles’ arm wrenched over his head and pinned it by the wrist below the headboard. “Would that make this easier for you?”

Stiles swallows. “Maybe?” This whole thing where he gets the chance to opt out of having mindblowing sex with a demon of questionable intentions is causing him more unnecessary stress than he wants to deal with. Can’t it just get on with ravishing him already?

“You really think that’s what we do? You think we need to? Ever?” The incubus’ breath ghosts warm against his neck. (Actually, Stiles has half an idea that ‘thinking’ isn’t much of good description of anything that’s gone through his head for a good few minutes. It’s so unfair of it to pick on him for that.)

Son of Saur and Syn by Reena

(8/8 I 148,081 I Explicit I Sterek I MCD)

In the year 995 AN Queen Claudia Stilinski rules in Sylune, the capital of the Holy Kingdom. That year she gives birth to twins, Princes Stuart and Stiles Stilinski, two golden-eyed boys whose fates were bound from the very first second. Queen Claudia is famous for being a just monarch who hatched a very old dragon egg in her youth, thus pushed the extinction of dragons at least a century.

Time passes and in 1013 AN, the Northerners, represented by the Hales; and the southerners, represented by the Argents, compete for influence in court now that the Princes are coming of age. Their rivalry is at its peak in this era, since the dragon’s presence brought the Argent family back to Sylune.

anonymous asked:

Your Keith study is lovely! If you don't mind a further question, I was wondering what you think of what some call cruel or inconsistent: that he said "I'm just thinking like a paladin" about the Allura rescue mission being risky, but also "We're paladins of Voltron, we can't just leave people to die even if they are Galra" about Weblum Galra. I never saw the first as Keith not caring, just stating the risk of delivering Voltron to Zarkon (and Allura agreed), but would love to know your take!

That can be summarized as several traits I stated within the analysis.

First: as mentioned, Keith can have a case of tunnel vision. When he sets himself to a goal, he wants to stick to that as efficiently as possible and this can make him not really consider other elements.

I think that it’s also a matter of, in general, he tends to be cynical about how situations are going to pan out-

Shiro sends him to find Red alone? “By myself?” he says, clearly unconvinced.

Hunk urges Keith to tell the Balmerans they can do this. “Can we?”

Faced with the prospect of going after Allura, his point is not “we don’t need Allura” it’s “If we go, we’ll lose and Zarkon will get Voltron.” To me, it reads less as “we shouldn’t save Allura” and more as “I don’t think we can, and trying is just going to make things worse.”

What a lot of people don’t seem to consider here is that first, when the team makes the decision to go, Keith goes along with it, and he’s the one during that mission to personally throw himself into close combat with Zarkon knowing he’s outmatched to try and make sure everyone gets out of there. As much as Keith doesn’t like the idea, he commits to it regardless.

People also don’t seem to consider that an entire season passes between that, and the Weblum. What people are calling inconsistency or hypocrisy, I’m much more inclined to call character development.

Everybody’s getting more into the swing of the hero thing. An episode later we see how far Pidge has come from her attitude of “nothing can compromise my personal mission even if that means Shiro and I are stuck here with something dangerous barreling towards us” to in Beta Traz, where she does everything for her team first- and then sets up the search afterwards and leaves it to run in the background.

Of course Keith is going to feel more optimistic about helping people now, because all the times the team has ultimately overridden his concerns and chosen to bash in and save everyone anyway… it worked out. The Balmera, the answer to “can we?” was a resounding yes. Fighting Zarkon’s main fleet, everyone made it away with all their limbs and Lions intact.

I also really don’t think we’ve seen any indication Keith hates Allura. People have tried to judge things like his facial expressions or body language and I feel the need to just hold up a sign like- Keith reads heavily as autistic, and in practice, he’s super awkward with people. What stays with me a lot more than the blank expression he catches Allura with in the pods is that he spent the entirety of s2e6 opening to and connecting with Allura, that if the fleet had come after them, Keith had every intention of staying with Allura.

And with the Weblum Galra, we see that in general, Keith feels more willing to make a gamble on it. Furthermore, WG isn’t really a comparable situation because Keith isn’t faced with the prospect of potentially going through hell to save them- he’s already in the Weblum for a different reason. Of course he’s going to be more blase about a situation that has a lot less mortal peril involved.

Also, it strikes me as odd to suggest Keith doesn’t care as a virtue of they don’t think he’s that close to Allura when… hey remember Arus? Remember how Keith was one of the people who wanted to stay on Arus and fight Sendak head on because he didn’t want to risk Sendak destroying Arus and coming after them? Or how he was quietly but overtly on board with helping Rolo and Nyma? 

TL;DR: It’s a lot of factors, nothing about how Keith approaches the situation afterwards suggests he doesn’t think it was worth it, the Weblum Galra is not the only person Keith’s ever been nice to outside the team. Instead it’s evidence that he’s becoming more optimistic about actually being able to help people. His voting against going after Allura in season 1 wasn’t fitting a pattern of being callous, it was fitting a pattern where he tends to be more cynical than the rest of the team about potential outcomes.

It doesn’t really matter if he wants to save Allura if his point is “Allura is smack in the middle of a death zone, and if we go there, we will be very dead, and I’m sure Allura will deeply appreciate that we flung our corpses at her.” To the rest of the team, it seems cold- because to the rest of the team (and they’re ultimately right) there’s a good chance they can actually make it and Keith’s suggestion throws away that chance.

I just find it very hard to believe a read on Keith that features him just not caring about someone where it’s shown her opinion means a huge deal to him, and also like… this is Keith the flagrant abandonment issues guy. Things were afoot in that interaction but “screw Allura, actually, she got herself into that situation” was not one of them, I think.

headsindreams  asked:

*breaks in* What if, when Percival dies after Grindelwald, he can't move on (because he doesn't want to yet, not because he can't), and he waits by this doorway connecting life and death. Whenever one of his people come through that door, they're somewhat happy to see him, because dying is fucking terrifying, and he's a steady presence, taking them by the hand and calmly explaining what to expect, and when they finally reach Death, they're no longer afraid.

This gave me intense “The Guardian” vibes, like whaaaaaaa? 

“There’s a legend of a man who lives beneath the sea. He is a fisher of men, the last hope of all those who have been left behind. Many survivors claim to have felt his gripping hands beneath them, pushing them up to the surface, whispering strength until help could arrive. He’s known as the guardian.”

He would DEFINITELY be there to ease them through death’s door, no doubt, but I could also see:

Grindelwald’s words haunted her.

“If you’re lucky, maybe he isn’t rigid yet.”

They spurned Tina faster. But her bones felt cold and hollow, as though she were racing toward an inevitable end. In her heart, anything was possible. But the Auror in her was certain he was dead.

That knowledge didn’t make the sight of him any easier to bear. Ashen as he was, she thought surely she had come too late. Blood haloed him in a perfect circle, as though Newt had not panicked at all, and she could feel its tacky greeting the moment she slid to her knees at his side. Her hands shook as she grabbed for him. Nails digging at his wrist and throat, searching for a beat she didn’t expect to find.

And yet… it was there. Surprising her as Newt always seemed to do.

Laughter and tears bubbled up from within her even as she called for a healer, her hands already working through the motions of fierce stabilization spells. Time stopped around the oozing wound, and slowly, color grew in Newt’s cheeks. His lashes fluttered, and with a whisper, life passed through his lips again.

He looked up at her, eyes blind for a long moment, then blinked.


“Yes, Newt. I have you. I have you.”

She grabbed his hand, and that made his brows furrow. A worried frown began to weigh down her smile, only to bleed into confusion as Newt asked, “Wha– where is he?” As though someone else was supposed to be holding his hand.

Tina shook her head, eyes casting around briefly to confirm what she already knew - no one was here.


“He was here. He was–”

“Newt, no one else is here. Just me.”

And when next he looked at her, right in the eyes, her breath halted. Because for starters, she could count on one hand how many times Newt Scamander had met her gaze, let alone held it and secondly, feverish stories from bedside visits began to rise between her ears.

“No! He was here. He was with me the whole time,” Newt urged, and Tina felt her breath still in her lungs like fog clearing from a mountain in the morning dawn. “He said he would stay with me until help arrived. Un-until you came. He said you’d come. He held my hand the whole time… He said he’d stay.”

Something like spring bloomed life into the parts of Tina she hadn’t realized had fallen dead. Hope blazing in a burst as her hands slowly fell to cup Newt’s face, thumbs brushing back his tears, stilling the frantic searching of his eyes.

“Who did you see, Newt?”

Newt swallowed, and in the earthiness of his eyes, she saw only honesty.

“Percival Graves. I- I know I never met him… but you and Theseus… he was just like you described him. It was him. He was here, Tina. I promise.”

She leaned down to brush her lips to his forehead in thanks, the tears she forbade herself to shed finally spilling like melted winter ice. Grateful she had found him. Grateful for his story. Grateful he was alive.

And grateful to the man who continued to protect them all, evidently just as bullheaded about resting in the afterlife as he had been during the brief time she had known him on earth.

She cried, but it was a happy affair, because there was a story building among the Aurors at MACUSA. First from one, then another and another. Stories from Aurors who had fallen during battle, but miraculously lived. Stories of a man who had found them and held their hands until help could arrive.

Stories of a guardian in a familiar suit, telling them to hold on just a little longer. That he would stay until help arrived. Hand tight and reassuring, voice calm and soothing. Nothing but forgiveness and conviction in his eyes.

Urging them to hang on.

And for a moment, she felt a familiar hand cup the back of her neck. Warm like sunshine through a window, and it was gone. But the feeling lingered.

Good work, Goldstein.

anonymous asked:

I ship sansan but I have to disagree with you. Forcing someone to sing with at a dagger point can't be downplayed as being "too uncompromising and overly harsh". She was scared for her life. Yes, he walked away but I don't want to imagine what would have happened if it wasn't for the Mother's hymn. Sandor is verbally and physically abusive to Sansa. She tries to justify his action and she understands his motives, but that's not an excuse.

Hi, anon.  When I said “too uncompromising and overly harsh” I really was speaking more in general to their verbal interactions.  For the purpose of answering an ask about why I ship Sansan, if I got really specific into every nuance of every interaction it would be a ridiculously long post.  I already have a penchant for the long-winded as you can see.  I was trying to summarize, not minimize.

The Blackwater was an entirely different animal, which I’ll get into later.  I don’t excuse or minimize his bad behavior, but I do put it into context.   I do look at his intention behind his words and actions as a factor in deciding whether or not he is redeemable or worthy of a future relationship with her.  That doesn’t negate his responsibility, but it does make me consider him more carefully than I would Joffrey or Cersei who truly intend to cause Sansa pain and want to see her suffer.      

He is uncompromising in his demand to drop the courtesy and speak plainly with him.  He goads her to drop the mask with him and demands she always look him in the face.  He cannot abide any fakeness.  He’s frustrated with her idealism and wants to crush it for her own good.  At the same time, he identifies with it and he deep down wants to believe she’s right.  It’s part of that craving of a connection with another person, but going about it by being nasty and demanding.  He has no reference of how to people and how to ask for things from another person the right way.  His whole life has been spent trying to avoid vulnerability because the last time that happened his brother held his face in a fire.  She is a person who is willing to give him compassion, but he needs to learn the concept of asking nicely with respect.  And thank GRRM that he made it Elder Brother’s job to fix him, not Sansa’s.    

Now on Sansa’s side of things, she is at times superficially averse to him and courtesy can be taken to the point of fakeness.  I can understand his frustration, especially after he risked his life to save her in the bread riots and she neglected to thank him until she just happened to run into him some days later.  She didn’t seek him out and she knows she fucked up.  Her gratitude came off as lukewarm.  Think she would’ve hesitated if it was Ser Loras that had saved her?  Hell no.  Sandor knows that and he has the right to be pissy, but not to the level of meanness.  Unlike Joffrey, Cersei, and LF, Sansa does feel she can call him out on his bad behavior.  She does flat out call him awful, as she should.  The fact that she instinctively knows that most of his behavior is posturing and bullshit allows her to challenge him without fear that he would truly hurt her.  She even wishes Dontos had some of his ferocity.  There’s still things she likes about his bite, so long as it doesn’t go too far into disrespect.   

I do understand courtesy is her only shield to mitigate her abuse and I fully support her using whatever tools she has.  The thing is Sansa has been positively reinforced to conform to a perfect lady on a pedestal.  How well a person can sew or play the bells does not make a real flesh and blood human.  That’s not her personality, it’s a performance.  She has always tried to win people’s approval by performing and conforming.  Sandor is the first person to challenge her on that conception of herself.  Does Sansa even know herself beyond the superficial?  She says she wants to be loved for herself and Sandor is the only one that tried to get at and bring out the authentic Sansa (in his fucked up way).  Yes, he called her a stupid talking bird which counts as abusive language she really didn’t need, but if we’re being honest, she is a willfully tough nut to crack as much as he is.  But that’s the very interesting push and pull of their dynamic.  The dynamic is difficult, unpleasant at times, and problematic, but also punctuated with moments of gentleness and compassion.  Their issues are very significant, but not insurmountable and not irredeemable.  So while Sandor has said and done things that we would rate as abusive, we can still say he’s not part and parcel an abuser without excusing or minimizing anything.          

Okay, as for the Blackwater I did say his behavior was very scary and wildly inappropriate.  She was justified in fearing for her life because he was so drunk and unstable.  Here’s the thing and I swear to you I am not minimizing or excusing his actions, but the Blackwater was not his normal self. If he was normally explosively volatile there is no way that he would ever be allowed so close to the royal family, especially the children.  He is usually very in control of himself, despite his anger and posturing.  I do put it into the context that he was having a PTSD meltdown, was called craven and humiliated, and his sense of self had been shattered.  BUT he had no right to dump any of that on a traumatized child.  He was 100% wrong in scaring the shit out of her or demanding anything of her, especially at knife point.  You are right that it is the hymn that snapped him out of it.  Made him see that what he was doing could have crossed the line into doing permanent harm, something he truly does not want to do.  He was rightly and deeply ashamed of himself, hence why he cast off the white cloak.  He wasn’t worthy of it.  I don’t think there’s anyone harder on Sandor than Sandor.  If he had even knicked her skin I think he would have just let the BwB kill him or drink himself to death, which it looked like he was already doing before they captured him.

Sansa forgives him as soon as she has the space to do so, but I don’t see her as excusing or justifying.  The two aren’t the same thing.  The latter implies that she thinks what he did wasn’t that bad or was somehow okay.  She has a very brief pause over her decision not to go, but there’s no sense of regret over her decision.  She knows he fucked up too and she’s not soft on what he actually did.  She’s just looking at the whole picture from a less emotionally charged place and considering everything she knows about him.  With time and space, she can put those events into context and understand why that event was singular.  It’s why she can forgive and continue to think about him, even eroticize him.  If it truly wasn’t a unique event, there’s no way I could ship it.     

Whew!  Sorry, I am the queen of over explaining.  Hope that clears things up.