i honestly went out of my comfort zone in coloring this

Dream Team

pairing: jikook

length: oneshot, 2.3k

genre: domestic fluff, subunit!jikook, implied sexual content

summary: “Jikook would be that couple that would 100% un-ironically high five after sex”


Jimin and Jungkook are quite literally the definition of a perfect team, in all aspects of the word.

based on this post

[Crossposted to Ao3]

“You’re doing it again.”

Nimble fingers freeze where they had been so avidly typing away on the black plastic keys of a laptop. The buttons feel heated under his fingers, and now that he had noticed it, under his palms too—the computer was overheated. Had been for sometime now. But of course his brain never processed that information until someone else had brought his attention to the fact.

He spares a glance at the clock.

12:23 AM. Shit.

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I wrote this for Taylor who knows how long ago and just completely forgot about it. While at work today I went through my old notes and found it and told myself that I had to post this today. I don’t even remember what the request was I think it was shklance were Lance is sick during a presentation. I hope this is OK I don’t know I just… I don’t know. Here ya go @taylor-tut

Lance knew he was sick. Normally he wasn’t one to admit to others, or to himself, that he wasn’t feeling well. He usually just powers through his colds, working until he can’t anymore and then he has to take a day off to recuperate if needed. But this time his breaking point was on the day of his presentation with Keith AND SHIRO.

The presentation he honest to God forgot about until the night before.

Staying up all night doing a presentation, for his personal most difficult class wasn’t a good move on Lance’s part, but there wasn’t anything he could do, other than just not doing it all.

And that’s how he got into this mess. The world spinning, in his micro biology class, sitting down in the front waiting for his turn to speak. Every bone in his body ached, it was so freaking cold, and his jacket was doing nothing to aid his shivers. Sitting was the only relief at the moment but just knowing that once Shiro was done his slide, he was going to have to stand AND READ.

Lance felt someone shake his shoulder, and he could hear his name being called in an aggravated tone. He sat up straight so fast Lance got whiplash. His world was a blue of color as he tried to reassess where he was. When did he fall asleep?

Then Keith came into focus. Keith was wearing a scowl as he looked down at Lance.

“Goddammit Lance, it’s your turn.” Keith scolded.

Lance’s didn’t say a thing as he stood up and stumbled to the front of the class, while Keith and Shiro shared a look of concern. And as Lance’s slides came on screen, their hearts dropped.

Aesthetic wise the slides were done, but the information about the experiment was all wrong. The data looked like Lance hadn’t comprehended what he had been reading the least bit. And Lance was stuttering as he spoke. His eyes squinted as he tried to read off the slides.

They didn’t know if they should step in and help, but soon Lance was done. His face was red, and not just from embarrassment. Lance mumbled out and apology and he ran out of the room, too embarrassed to look at Keith and Shiro’s faces.

Shiro and Keith haven’t heard anything from Lance for at least 10 minutes now. It was obvious Lance wasn’t on his A game and they were both extremely worried about him. They’ve called and texted, but he wasn’t answering. They’ve been wandering the school, trying every classroom they’ve come across, until they stumbled e across a locked janitors closet. The one that isn’t normally locked.

It’s Shiro that knocks on the door. "Lance, buddy are you in there?”

“No” was his only response. Keith couldn’t help the snort that came out.

“Why don’t you come on out? We have to answer questions and then we’ll be done.” Shiro tried. “You don’t even need to answer any.”

“Then you can go back to the dorms and get some rest.” Keith cut in. They didn’t really have time for this. Their grade already wasn’t looking too good.

The lock clicked and the door opened.

Everything was going well for the few minutes, until Lance started swaying on his feet. It was clear to both Keith and Shiro that Lance was much worse than they had anticipated.

“I need to sit.” Lance mumbled so quietly, Shiro almost hadn’t heard it.

“Just another minute Lance, your doing great.” Shiro tried for soothing, but it was clear it wasn’t doing much.

But then their professor had a question.
“Lance, why was the data presented on your slide different then the one Keith and Shiro had on theirs?”

Lance took a moment to process the question, and honestly he couldn’t have repeated what their professor just said.

“I–I don’t know.” Lance stuttered.

Their professor wasn’t pleased by this answer whatsoever.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t know’? That’s not an acceptable reason.” They spoke in a stern voice.

Lance face seemed to have paled even more than before and his eyes darted around the room, as if he was trying to find the acceptable answer somewhere hidden.

Before either Keith or Shiro could step in, Lance kinda just… broke. His eyes watered, and he shakily tried to give a response. His mind was so muddled and he was just so tired. It was Shiro that stepped in first. With a gentle hand to his back, he guided Lance out of the room, before he could embarrass himself. Keith waited in the hall as Shiro went to speak with the professor. Lance was still crying, slumped against Keith’s chest as he sobbed.

Keith was very out of his comfort zone. He rubbed small circles into the others back and shushed him whenever he made a choked sound. “Sorry"s and "I didn’t mean to"s were mixed in and Keith tried his best to reassure Lance, that neither of them were angry at him. They were both just extremely worried.

Getting Lance back to the dorms was a lot more difficult than they expected. The poor boy could barely walk, even though he put all his weight onto Keith. When his legs gave out, It was decided that he had to be carried and that is how Lance ended up being carried on Shiro’s back. It wasn’t exactly ideal either since Lance was pretty tall and lanky. But they eventually got there. Lance was asleep when they entered the dorm. His room was a mess, clothes and papers thrown about. Food containers littered his desk and it was odd to see the oh so tidy Lance to keep his BEDROOM of all places so… disorganized.

Shiro maneuvered Lance and set him on the bed. He placed the back of his hand to the others forehead and curse under his breath.

"What is it?” Keith asked worried

“His fevers really high.” Shiro mumbled
“You stay here with him, I’m gonna go grave some things.” Shiro said.
Keith made a worried face, and shiro knew just how anxious he felt. he placed a comforting hand on Keith’s shoulder.
“It’ll be alright. I’m just in the other room.”

Keith relaxed and nodded his head.

Keith sat down on the bed next to Lance. The others face looked uncomfortable and Keith felt powerless. It was almost on instinct that Keith’s hand found its way into Lance’s hair, combing through it in a way Keith hoped was comforting. His face instantly relaxed and he mumbled something that sorta sounded spanish. After a few minutes of petting, Lance opened his bleary eyes, and tried to blink away the fuzziness.

Shiro came in then. “Oh he’s awake.” He said as he placed a damp cloth on his forehead. Lance mumbled more words that didn’t sound English and then a very clear “I love you guys.” Made Keith and Shiro share a look of pure surprise.

But that could wait till later. Shiro still needed to get Lance to take the medicine he brought and to take his temperature.
They would definitely talk to Lance after this. They didn’t exactly want to get their hopes up, even though it was too late. They were already pretty smitten with the boy.

Private Lives Chapter Eleven

Title: Private Lives Chapter Eleven

Author:  Kat

Reader Gender:  Female (Y/N Hastings)

Word Count: 1889

Series Summary: Jensen Ackles is an incredible actor. You’re taking a break from being a doctor to figure out what to do with your life. When your worlds crash together, what secrets will be revealed?

Warnings:   This fic will have feels, okay? It’s going to be a drama.

Chapter Warnings: Little bit of blood, nothing too descriptive, bullying

Catch Up HERE

A/N: OMG FINALLY. I am so sorry to everyone for how long this took and also I’m sorry it’s a tad short. I ran into some writer’s block that has finally seemed to have cleared up. I hope you like this chapter. The wait was soooooo long. I’m so excited with it’s following and where it’s going. I just hope you all don’t kill me for it. Enjoy!! 

Character: Jensen Ackles

Tags:  @deans-princess-crybaby  @space-cats-in-purgatory  @bloodysideofhell  @thing-you-do-with-that-thing    @mrswhozeewhatsis  @mamaimpala  @timewoundsallheals1210  @the-mrs-deanwinchester  @aprofoundbondwithdean  @queenofhellisafangirl  @anastasiarosez  @ackleholic96  @mama-impala  @mamapeterson  @redlittlefox  @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki  @beautiful-disaster143  @sleepywinchester  @adaisinwonderland  @theweirdymcweirderson  @mysaintsasinner  @oh-jesus-sammy  @jencharlan  @blacktithe7  @winchesterforever12  @iamflanneltrash  @blushingsamgirl  @deandoesthingstome  @mrsjohnsmith  @samtomydeanwinchester  @sis-tafics  @ackleslaugh  @fangirling-instead-of-working  @eyes-of-a-disney-princess  @for-the-love-of-dean  @lipstickandwhiskey  @skybinx-blog  @loveitsallineed @purgatoan  @shipping-people-writing-things  @spectaculacular-sammy  @superbluhoo2  @winchesterswoonathon  @iwantthedean  @crzcorgi  @ilostmyshoe-79  @torn-and-frayed  @supernatural-jackles  @impalapossible  @jotink78  @hillface89  @kittenofdoomage  @nichelle-my-belle  @percywinchester27  @whit85-blog  @rizlow1  @bringmesomepie56  @atc74  @cici0507  @gemini75eeyore  @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish  @kristaparadowski  @mayasmedberg   @prncss-nefelibata  @smoothdogsgirl  @beachy2014  @freaksforthewin  @jensen-gal  @theoriginalvicki  @missieb76  @vougebandit  @raeganr99  @your-not-invisible-to-me  @vaisabu  @bakabozza  @britt-spn  @fernandasvaldi  @silver-and-green  @yaya-snowflakes  @imnotalosechester  @motleymoose  @ruprecht0420  @iamnotsaneatall  @gecko9596  @anokhi07  @tiffanycaruso  @spnolivia  @the-jette  @boredoutofmymindstuff  @lovin-ackles  @dancingalone21  @laurenw1025  @tas898 @extreme-supernatural-lover  @jayankles  @supernatural-fan-123   @moonstonemystyk  @perpetualabsurdity  @frenchybell  @allthatsupernaturallife  @irishdoll80  @walkercauff  @nerdwholikesword  @supernatural508  @ledzeppelinrules  @rattyretro-blog-blog  @fandomsneverdie14  @anxuanpham  @mysteriouslyme81  @felly-pepper  @sleep-silent-angel  @caityrice  @ezauraemmaline  @steampunkd16  @fullmetalkassie  @sandlee44  @cemmia  @wwecrazed2010  @winchesterhunters67  @symphony25  @oceanblue-and-forestgreen  @dorky-and-i-know-it  @trustnobodyshootfirst  @ria132love  @grace-for-sale


“Well, what do you think about the house that Marta showed Y/N?” Jared asked, sipping his beer.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s not a huge house, but the yard is big and the neighborhood is great. I think I’ll make an offer tomorrow,” I said back, taking a drink from my beer.

“Oh, good, Y/N still on the fence about it?”

“A little,” I replied, pondering. Y/N was worried she wouldn’t be around enough for Gen if she lived with me, but I had assured her multiple times that everything would work itself out.

My phone began to ring from the coffee table. As I reached forward to silence it, I saw that it was Y/N. She was at work at the moment, which meant it must have been important for her to be calling during her shift. I answered the phone instead.

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Library boy (Namjoon || Hogwarts AU)

 ⌲ Description: The seventh year Ravenclaw boy, by the name of Namjoon was someone that interested you more than anyone else. 

♢ Pairing: Namjoon x reader -> Hogwarts AU

♢ Word count: 3.1k

♢ Genre: fluff, suggestive content

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RFA+V+Saeran Reacts to MC’s Strange Music Tastes

AKA Mc has complete and utter shit taste in music and they must suffer along with her (*゜▽゜ノノ゛☆ (This is so silly I’m so sorry)


- While you were cleaning, you had decided to put on your favorite musical (sans Zen) and wash the dishes.

- I mean, there wasn’t a lot, but it gave you an excuse for being so slow with them

- Of course, as cheesy as the musical was, you found yourself singing along the best you could, despite the language barriers

- And of course, while you were attempting to belt out both lines to the duet, Zen decided to come home

- At first he was extremely confused. Was that English? Did you know English? Why didn’t you ever mention that! That was so impressive!

- But once he notices you have no idea he’s there, and you’re singing your heart out, he slowly steps up behind you, peering at the….weird musical on your laptop.

- “Babe, if you wanted to sing a duet, you could have told me.”

- You jumped, having water and suds splash back at you, as Zen chuckled and apologizes.

- “Ah, sorry babe, I didn’t mean to scare you. What are you watching though?”

- With a very red (and soapy face) you explain your love of this musical’s soundtrack, even though it’s… Not on the great side.

- But the moment you admit its a favorite of yours, he’s talking about a movie night and that the two of you could probably watch it tonight.

- (God, Zen, Please no)

- Honestly, when the two of you did manage to watch it, he didn’t tease you too much for loving the songs due to how embarrassed you were

- I mean…He’s definitely sung worse.


- After a long and annoying workday, he often found it comforting to see you and Elizabeth 3rd bonding.

- But coming home to a speaker system blaring god awful noise, and Elizabeth 3rd in your arms as you rocked your hips in time with the music, was not exactly what he found comforting.

- After taking a moment to find the stereo remote and quickly turning it down, he took a deep breath before speaking.

- “Mc. What are you doing to Elizabeth 3rd.” His voice was so monotone you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

- “I, uh, was just dancing with her to some music. She’s okay, see?”

- You turned to face him, showing how lazily Elizabeth 3rd was curled in your arms.

- It didn’t stop him from slowly taking her out of your grasp and holding her close.

- “That was music?”

- “Uhm….Yes…Electro kinda swing music.” Embarrassed already, you turned to go cut the stereo off completely, trying to avoid his gaze.

- Of course that didn’t stop his questions

- He went on and on. What was Electric Swing? Why did it sound like his phone was dropping a call with someone in an old records store? What was the weird slang?

- After spending around an hour showing him examples, why you were listening to it, explaining to him how he could use urban dictionary for most slang questions, he finally let the subject drop for a bit.

- “Do a lot of people listen to this type of music?”

- “Not really, I just have shit taste in music, honestly.”

- Catching on that you feel a bit embarrassed, he decided to clear his throat.

- “Well, I rather….Like it.” (He did not) “It’s….unique.”

- “Jumin, you don’t have to lie-”

- “No, no, teach me how to dance in tune with this. You were dancing with Elizabeth 3rd, and I will admit I was a bit jealous.”

- This dork. But… At least he was willing to at least pretend he liked it, and not tease you.


- So, Seven was busy working. Usually when he was in so deep into his work, you could literally say or do anything and he wouldn’t notice. And hey, you had listened to music before when he was like this. Why not listen to the one song that had been stuck in your head all day?

- You loaded up your playlist, took another look at him as you started up your music. When he didn’t react whatsoever, you popped up your internet browser and started to goof around offline, enjoying your music.

- You zoned out pretty quickly, not paying attention as it switched to a very perverse song, and Seven finally perking up from his own computer screen.”

- “….Mc, what are you listening to?”

- “Hm?” You refocused on the lyrics, recognizing one of your japanese songs playing. You cringed a bit, not realising the language change to hide from Seven, but, oh well. “It’s just a silly song.”

- “….A silly song about prostitutes?”

- You felt the color drain from your face. “You know what it was saying?”

- “You really think out of all the languages I’ve learned, japanese wouldn’t be on that list?” He smirked as you groaned and covered your face. “So, uh, were you in the mood? Were you wanting to try those things she was saying? Like makin-”

- “Don’tyoufuckingdare.”

- He busted out laughing, getting out of his computer chair to walk over and ruffle your hair. 

- “But I mean, seriously, are you in the mood because…”

- “…Okay, fine.”


- Okay, so Yoosung probably has the same amount of shit taste of music as you do. At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you finally bring over some of your games to play at his house.

- You told him you loved shooters, scary games, or just basically anything with a good story plot.

- But…You hadn’t told him about your love for a certain music game yet.

- Once you two were all settled in his room with gaming drinks and snacks, you let out a deep breath.

- “Yoosung….Please don’t judge me for this.”

- ???

- You turned on the game, a certain popular computer idol filling the screen in such a cute pose. You expected him to laugh at you, to wiggle around uncomfortably trying to figure out if you were a ‘real’ gamer or not.

- But he just let out a little chuckle.

- “Mc, why would I judge you for that? A lot of my friends play some of her games. They like her music, too! I guess that goes without saying…”

- You looked at him in shock. “What!?”

- “Yeah, I kinda wanted to play it too. Will you show me?”

- Oh my god, you loved this man.


- When you two closed the cafe down at night, you would start a playlist the two for you set up filled with your favorite chore songs and start cleaning. It helped speed things up, and helped the two of you have a few cute moments.

- She would hum along with some of Zen’s songs, or other songs from musicals. If you starting signing along, she would slowly join you, both of you giggling afterwards.

- It wasn’t often a song of yours popped up, mainly due to the fact you wanted to try and hear her sing as much as possible, but tonight one of your favorites popped on and you didn’t have the heart to skip it.

- So soon, as the slow music started playing, you steadily stopped sweeping, swaying side to side with the broom in your hand.

- Jaehee tried to hide her laugh as she watched, failing a bit. “Mc, what are you doing?”

- “I love this song soo much, it’s so relaxing.”

- She listened to the lyrics, some strange japanese tinted broken english, and was lucky she was able to understand it. Lingering affects of working with such a huge business, even though she hadn’t had to use english in a while.

- But you put your broom aside and held your arms out to her.

- “I know it’s silly, but dance with me, please? I’ve always wanted to dance with someone to this song.”

- Aaaaa, you were making her face so red.

- She walked over, letting you wrap your arms around her and sway to the music. Slowly she did the same, resting her head on yours and letting her shoulders drop a bit.

- Even though it was a strange song…. It was nice being able to do this with you, especially if it made you happy.


- Usually when he came home, he was used to you being somewhere in the living room, since it was connected to the front door. 

- I mean it’s not like he absolutely needed your help, but it was always sweet walking up and hearing you hop off the couch to hug him and subtly try to guide him where he needed to go

- Instead, he was greeted by some solemn sounding music coming from the bedroom. After a bit of of navigating, he made it in, the music nearly blasting.

- As the crescendo lowered, he spoke up a bit.

- “Mc?”

- “I’m laying on the bed.”

- He nodded, finding a spot where the bed didn’t dip too much and sat down, happy he managed to sit beside you but a safe distance.

- He listened to the music pick up again, a male voice sounding low and grief stricken. Due to being overseas and picking up some english, he recognized some words, but not all.

- “Mc, what is this?”

- “It’s like…A novel, but an album? Each song tells a continuous story, but it’s so… I don’t know. Sad, but good?”

- “Are you feeling okay?”

- “…A bit. I don’t know.”

-  He took off his glasses, placing them in his shirt pocket and carefully laying down. Once his hand found yours, he managed to pull you to him, encouraging you to snuggle up.

- “Do you want me to listen to this with you?”

- “…Yeah.”

- He didn’t understand the lyrics fully, or why you were wanting to listen to something sad, but he just kissed your forehead and let you zone out to the music.

- Later on, when he found out that album helped you become more creative, he was wanting you to explain and translate a bit of it for him on the off chance it would inspire him as well.


- You were a bit ashamed of your music tastes around him, especially since he wasn’t afraid to tell you if something you liked was ridiculous or not (to him, at least), but he managed to find out anyway.

- You were just picking up a bit since the two of you still lived with Seven and the house was horrible, and you were humming along with your music blasting from your headphones. Since it was loud, and you were more focused on cleaning in time with the music, you didn’t notice Saeran had been trying to talk to you.

- Until he yanked out your earbud.

- You yelped, even though it didn’t hurt too much, and turned to scold at him, but he spoke before you could.

- “How many times do I have to tell you to let him clean up his own mess? He won’t learn otherwise,” He paused for a moment, hearing the music coming from the earbud in his hand. “What kind of emo shit is this?”

- You frowned, yanking the earbud back away from him. “Don’t try to act like you don’t listen to this kind of music!”

- “I did when I was younger, and now I’m an adult, Mc. Something you’re apparently not.”

- Ooooho! That jerk. You cut off your mp3, bringing out your phone instead.

- “Don’t try to hide it!”

- “I’m not hiding anything, Mc.”

- Your fingers typed away on your phone, searching for a song you knew he couldn’t argue against.

- “…What are you doing?”

- You smiled as you found good audio of the song, pressing play and turning the volume up. He looked confused, until a certain G note rang out, and he instantly looked furious.

- “Don’t you play that shit, cut it off. “

- “Nope~!”

- “Mc, I swear to fucking god-”

- The vocals started, and you sang along with them, causing him to start stomping out of the room. But, you followed him anyway, making him yell at you more.

- “I will ruin your phone if you keep this up!”

- “Apologize, then I’ll cut it off!”

- The only thing stopping your argument was Seven coming home, and him even laughing at your music choices.

- You just couldn’t win with either of them.

100 Reasons to Live

I know that your life may be hard, but there are so many things to live for, like:

~the warm feeling of sun on your skin
~the little crinkle of people’s noses when you make them laugh
~the feeling of your bare toes sinking into mud during a heavy rain
~the little twinkle in people’s eyes when you make their day
~that feeling you get right after you take a REALLY necessary trip to the bathroom (ahhh…sweet relief)
~the obnoxious, yet totally adorable snort thing that people do when they laugh really hard
~the crunch of leaves under your feet
~the refreshing feel of a warm rain that brings the scent of dew
~the sound of packing snow
~the fuzzy feeling when someone thanks you for something you’ve done
~the burn of a good workout that shows your commitment to progress
~a good fart joke (because honestly, I have the humor of a 12 year old)
~a good song that plays through your head and takes you back to a time when life was great
~the tingles you get when someone caresses your skin or slides their fingers down your scalp or through your hair
~the feeling of wind on your back that encourages you to keep moving forward
~the laugh of a young child who only sees the good in everything
~the slow meaningful breaths of a person who is deep in sleep
~people who can wiggle their ears (definitely one of my favs)
~the gratification of guessing something correctly (even if it was a total guess)
~appreciation from others on something you did well, even if it was something as menial as taking to do something extra to your morning routine
~the feeling of accomplishment when you finally achieve a goal that you have put time and energy towards
~the way your heart pounds when you do something extraordinary or venture slightly out of your comfort zone
~the comfort and safety of a tight hug
~the rush of relief when you yell at the sky
~the responsibility when you play a role in someone else’s life
~the loss of time when you get enraptured in a good story
~the loud clapping noise when you finally are part of the world’s greatest high five
~the mix of fear and freedom that you get when you roll down a hill
~the gust of wind that trail behind you when you run as fast as you can
~the pitter-patter of rain drops falling on a roof, or an umbrella, or your car
~the warm glow of a campfire
~the many faces that people make that are naturally funny
~the smell of freshly baked goods (like fresh cookies, mmmmmmm)
~the connection when you gently tease a friend and you place your trust in them
~the way hiccups jolt your body, and while can be annoying, it is accompanied by little chirps
~the satisfaction from organizing things
~the mystic nature of talking with people who have accents, or eccentric pronunciations, or even speak an entirely different language
~the way you can communicate with someone without even saying a single word
~the idea of reinventing yourself by getting a new wardrobe or doing something to alter people’s perception of you
~the swaying of a boat on smooth waters
~the orange/red/yellow/pink hues that accompany every dawn and every dusk
~the crackle of a candle or a fire
~the feeling of sand swallowing your feet as you walk along a beach
~the moment of amazement when you are puzzled over a magic trick
~the sense of wonder when mankind does some significant task, like fly to the moon
~the energy of letting go and dancing like no one is watching
~the relaxation that hits you when you finally lay down after a long day
~the whooshing of the waves as the lap against a cliff or a beach
~the warmth of human contact
~the taste of your favorite food
~the sounds of birds singing in the woods
~the bubbling noises of a babbling creek
~the swish of a basketball that went in nothing-but-net (this might just be a personal one)
~the vivid colors all around us that add more to our lives
~the feeling when you are completely honest and open with someone
~the light from the moon that creates a sense of wonder
~the flickering of lightning bugs (or fireflies, whatever)
~the concept of a vast universe all around us (it just amazes me)
~the connection when you succeed as part of a group or team
~the thing that people’s mouths and throats do when the laugh
~the feeling when music has great chords
~the way that goosebumps heighten your sense of touch and make you more aware of your senses
~dogs, that’s all I need to say on that one
~the feeling when you reconnect with someone you haven’t seen in a while
~the many colors of people’s eyes
~that hopeful feeling when you make a wish in a wishing well, or for 11:11, or on a shooting star
~the confidence boost when you finally understand something that you had struggled with (I’m looking at you, AP Calculus)
~the excitement of waiting for something important
~the electricity that shoots through your body when you touch something with a strange texture (i.e. Oobleck)
~when you sit completely still and become hyper-aware of your heartbeat and your breathing and the countless other functions your body does without you realizing
~the gratification of blowing a puff dandelion (way to support our ecosystem)
~the pounding of the bass in a song that rattles your chest
~the internet
~the serenity of just sitting on a swing and escaping from reality
~the release of emotions from belting out a song as loud as you can
~the popping/cracking of your knuckles/back/neck/etc
~the feeling of significance when someone remembers your name or who you are
~the feeling when you wear your favorite clothes (or lack thereof) and just feel completely confident in yourself
~the joy when someone does small favors, such as holding the door open for you
~the stomach-burning, ab-forming, breath-reducing feeling of laughing uncontrollably straight from the gut
~the happiness that comes with a compliment
~the sparkle that reflects off of water/ice from the sun
~the feeling of wading/swimming
~the earthy taste of fresh fruits/vegetables
~the quenching power of cold water
~the aroma of flowers, or burning things, or gasoline (if you’re weird and into that)
~the comfort of snuggling up and going to sleep
~the many incredible things the human mind and body can accomplish
~and the fact that you still haven’t tapped your full potential

~the adventure of going somewhere new for the first time
~the feeling of going atop a hill and just looking out over everything
~the tranquility of coloring/drawing/painting
~the raw innocence of wild animals
~the ability to pursue whatever you choose (there are over 7 billion humans on Earth, don’t be afraid to be you)
~the feeling of sharing a bond with someone, whether through a friendship or through a romantic relationship
~the many shapes we see in the clouds that hover overhead
~the success you find by exploiting your talent (everyone has at least one talent)
~the acceptance when someone agrees with your opinions (but don’t be afraid to have opinions that differ from someone else’s)
~the sense of security and safety day-to-day

And most importantly:
~you are wanted. I want you to exist. I want to be your friend. I love you. Whether you are a stranger to me, or my closest friend, or my “enemy”, I want you in my life. You play a big role in my life. Please, don’t ever doubt yourself.

I will always be here to help whoever may need it. Even if I am just a shoulder to cry on, I will do whatever it takes to help.

Feel free to message me anytime on Tumblr @saxophonehero
Or, you can Snapchat me @saxxophonehero

I love you guys!!

anonymous asked:

i want there to be a hc about possibly anonymous designer! adrien who designs to escape but doesn't want it to seem his father is helping and anonymous fashion blogger! marinette starting to talk and they send letters to one another and their pen names are chat noir and ladybug and on her blog you know it's something by her because of a little ladybug symbol next to what she wrote and you know he's designed something because of the little paw always on it. or possibly those roles are reversed?

i know you said headcanons but i couldnt help myself im so sorry

man no one should encourage me to do aaaanything. although this did bump me a bit out of my writing funk so thank you for that this is kind of like…..a how this situation would happen fic? sorta?

honestly i wrote most of this after 1am so no promises on quality of literally anything. i haven’t sewn in y e a r s. enjoy?

[on ao3 in case of problems opening]

Adrien knows that there’s a bit more than just a hint of irony in this situation. The son of a world famous designer, one of the top designers in the industry, hiding his designs. Adrien could easily announce that he’s going into fashion and be given not only all the supplies he could ever need but also all the publicity in the world in a matter of seconds.

But he won’t do that. He never will.

Being the son of Gabriel Agreste means two things:

  1. He’s expected to be perfect in every way.
  2. If he went into fashion, no one would believe he got there with his talent and hard work alone.

If people didn’t think his father got him a job directly, they’d think it was the name. The name Agreste is synonymous with high end fashion. The name and the designer are impossible to separate, even with Gabriel’s line being called Gabriel.

It doesn’t help that Adrien’s been modeling since he was born.

It’s kind of…cliche? that Adrien wants to go into fashion. You’d think that after so many years of being surrounded by it and smothered in it he’d stay far far away. But it’s the opposite. Adrien is expected to inherit the Gabriel fashion empire. He’s expected to possibly handle the business side but mostly just be the face. He doesn’t want that. He wants to be hands on, he wants to be creating. He wants to be like his father. There are very few times he is able to say that.

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Ari’s 2 Year Re-Birthday a.k.a Halloween 2016

As I mentioned in my last post, I have hit my 2-year mark of being on Hormone Replacement Therapy. I celebrate this day as a second birthday. It marks the beginning of the period in my life when gender dysphoria no longer had its horrific grip on me. (I still deal with it at times of course, but HRT is a life saving treatment. This is truly my Re-Birthday :)

A year ago, I was in a situation where I was still getting used to living on my own and I was just starting to be able to be in public while letting the walls down and just being myself. That year, I spent my Re-Birthday alone and posted some costume pics on Tumblr about it. While I was grateful to have the outlet of Tumblr at the time and you all sent me encouraging messages of support.. I also vowed to myself that next year would be different. I promised myself that I would have a group of friends that knew only the real me to celebrate this special day with me. This year that happened. It did take effort on my part. I had to be intentional about being more social. If you followed me for a long time, you know that I started going to meetup groups. I went to a Dungeons and Dragons meetup first and there I made two amazing new friends who I visit with weekly now. I also joined a women’s group on meetup. This meetup in particular is just incredible. They accepted me into their fold and I have made several friendships through that group. The events are always a blast even though some of them take me out of my “comfort” zone :)

I am so grateful to be in the position I am in now, where I have new friends that just know Ari and accept her and like her for who she is. I am actually crying a little while writing this because I remember how I felt last year and how worried I was that I would be feeling alone for a very, very long time. Sure I have family members that still love me but they struggle greatly to accept me for who I am.

But.. on to the pics of the celebration! This is a happy occasion!

My friends are amazing when it comes to costumes. I was at first planning on going as Counselor Troi from Star Trek TNG. However, there is a serious lack of costumes out there for her. There is an off-color short dress that really does not come close to matching her outfits. There is the standard TNG uniforms but I did not want to look androgynous in any way for this outing ;)

So, I went with a Dr. Carol Marcus costume that I found online. I also got a blond wig, but ultimately I decided not to use the wig. I was worried it would be too hot as this was going to be a bar crawl and long night. Also, the wig framed my face poorly and reminded me of the time when I was desperately trying to grow my hair out. I was able to snap a few cute pictures with the wig, but trust me it only looked cute in those pics as that camera angle worked the best for the look. Pics from the side view and such made me look like I was wearing a child’s wig. I decided I could just be a Science Crew Member from the reboot universe :) Science Officer Ari reporting for duty, Sir!

Also, after shopping at several stores with my daughter I found some futuristic looking earrings at Charming Charlie that I thought were perfect. You can see those in one of the pics.

Anyway, here are photos both with the wig and without, followed by pictures from one of the most fun nights I have had in recent memory :)

I could not find a “phaser” so I bought a mini, but very loud toy laser gun from World Market..

My purse almost looks like that side bag that Dr. McCoy used to carry, doesn’t it??

Lens flare pic! :) lol

One last note about this night, I had some real fear leading up to it. As a transgender woman, despite my best efforts, I still fear being called out by someone in public. In particular I still have that uneasy feeling when I need to use the restroom. Being Halloween, with many non-transgender men dressing as women.. it amplified this fear. Once again all of my fears were unwarranted. In fact, as I was about to leave the restroom at one of our many stops on our pub crawl, a random young woman said to me, “Hey are you..” she paused and I took in a breath.. “Star Trek??” Lol! Her wording was funny, but she was just trying to confirm that she “got” my costume. I said, “Yes!” She responded, “I LLLove it!” As you can imagine that was great for me to hear ;) I simply smiled and told her thank you because I honestly was not sure what her costume was supposed to be so I said nothing about it! 

I hope you all have an amazing Halloween. If you are in a place where you wish you could make some new friends please make a direct effort to do so. You will find them!


My goal in sharing my transition is to represent transgender people in the positive light that we all deserve. Re-blogs are always okay if they are for this purpose, but if you are a fetish blog or fetish website then I want nothing to do with you and you do not have my permission to use my images.


Imagine #53 || Request #32

Another imagine!!! Hope you guys like this one :) I kind of changed it, hope you don’t mind and so sorry it took so long I had difficulty on how it would go and we’ve been really busy renovating a part of the house so it was too noisy to concentrate. 

PS… i love Scott and Stiles always excusing themselves here idk why =))

Part 2


You could still feel his arms wrapped around you, your cheek on his chest as he softy snored beside you without a care in the world nor the strength to face the fact that he was leaving the next day to go to France with the Argents. He held you ‘til morning, never wanting to let go and would always keep you in arm’s reach as much as possible. He promised you at the airport that he won’t be gone for too long, that he’d return as soon as. But you tried not to get your hopes up by believing Isaac’s words, because you knew that that was impossible-especially now.

You were currently helping at the animal clinic to earn at least a little to help yourself and your parents, Scott was kind enough to be there to aid you with it. He texted you earlier that he’ll pick you up from your house on his way to the clinic, mentioning that Stiles would also be joining the two of you.

“Y/N?” You suddenly heard Scott call from downstairs, a tone of caution lacing his voice as you heard his heavy footsteps going up the stairs followed by Stiles’.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, immediately opening the door to find the two boys looking worried and alert.

“You need to leave. Now.” Scott said almost hurriedly, Stiles agreeing with his best friend while confusing you at the same time. The werewolf went in your room and immediately opened the door to your bathroom before opening the door to your closet, seemingly looking for something.

“Wait, why?” You immediately took your phone, wallet and keys from your nightstand and shoved them in your pockets before following them down the stairs. “What’s going on?”

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Fuck Like A Kennedy

Request: So, if you’re too backed up with requests, or don’t wanna do it, that’s fine, but can I get some Dom Fun Ghoul smut thats really kinky? I love your blog so much! im sorry if this sounds rude!

(TW: Suicide. Angst angst angst angst)

According to the junkies in the ones and the bums living in the slums of Battery City, killjoys were heroes. “They have it all” they would say,”Freedom, adventure, color, they are truly living”. And we were. For the most part. It was days like today that no one told drunken stories about or whispered behind closed doors about. The days where I attended another burial. The days were I awoke to Kobra screaming, and spent half the night trying to comfort him from his night terrors. The days were Party would give in and we all sat emotionless as he screamed and sobbed in his room, cursing himself for drinking that bottle and cursing his fucking government for driving him to this. The days when Jet and I would attempt to drown out a bad day by fixing up that god damn leaking radiator, but would sit in silence as Dr. D’s traffic report rattled another list of names that was way too fucking long. “The world’s so fucked up Y/n,” he would say, clenching onto the steering wheel with bruised knuckles,”so fucked up”. Bad days are inevitable, no matter how beautiful yesterday was. Like today, the day were we finally got blessed with rain. It was a good day, we cranked up Mad Gear and Missile Kid and had the biggest mud war in the zones. It’s been far too long since I’ve heard Party let out his cackle laugh. It was a good day. Was. I should’ve known really, nothing as beautiful as seeing the Fabulous Four act like the kids they truly, not the ones who grew up to fast, could last too long in ts shit world. It was bitter cold, it always was at night, but the rain intensified it. I could barely see with how hard it was coming down, the only light source was the moan and the millions of stars that provided a dim glow against the sand. I could see Ghoul though, a few feet in front of me. My mind flashed to merely hours ago, Ghoul completely covered in mud, tackling Kobra and Party into a puddle with a cheer of victory. I looked at him now, blood shot eyes as he stood on the very edge of the roof. I shuddered at the though of him falling backwards, letting himself go. “They have it all,” they say. “Ghoul?” My voice was strained and sounded like I’ve been screaming for hours. For once, that wasn’t the case. He looked at me blankly, as if the words went right through him. His eyes suddenly flicked up at me, I took a startled step back. I always admired Ghoul’s eyes, they were warm and full of life. Looking into them felt like a combination of a roaring engine and tight hug. They were dead now. Figuratively, not literally. Or yet, anyway.

“What are you doing up here?” His voice was smooth and calm, reminding me of how he S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W units would yell “Hault!” at the Trans Am when we drive by. It was scary how much he reminded me of Battery City citizen at the moment. 

“What are you doing here?” I replied, keeping my voice as genuine and concerning as I could muster. 

“I…I…I can’t feel anything,” he rasped out, his voice cracking with a broken sob. “Why can’t I feel anything?!” I took a step forward, testing his reaction. He didn’t seemed bothered, looking back down at the shimmering puddles below. In a way, I didn’t feel anything either. It almost shocked me how calm I was. Instead of pleading, begging for him to get off the fucking roof and talk to me, my mind was playing an old song, from an old band before this B.L.I. mess. Hey Ho, let’s go

“Ghoul…talk to me,” I reached, a small flicker of hope sparking in me when he made eye contact. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Why not? Honestly, why the fuck not. The world is dying Y/n, fucking dying. We’re dying. We’re chasing a broken dream, running from anything and everything. I’m tired of running.” I’m tired of running. The sentenced replayed over and over in my head. I’m tired of running. Weren’t we all? Hey ho, let’s go.

“There’s nothing wrong with running, Ghoul. Nothing. We’re changing lives. Whether you can see it or not, we are. Hope is back, the people have hope because of you. Because of us.”

“It’s not easy out here…”he murmured, I could tell he was no longer talking to me. ”We all though it would be better out here, better on our own. It’s fucking hell. Fucking. Hell. I can’t do it anymore.”

“Remember today Ghoul? The rain? The mud war? We have one shot at living Ghoul, and were doing it. Were alive. We need you alive. I need you.”

“What did you say?”

“I. Need. You. I can’t spend a day in this wasteland without seeing your eyes or hearing your laugh. I need you here. So get off that roof and kiss me you animal.” I croaked out, offering a hand. He smiled for the first time that night, a broken one, but still a smile. He took my hand and collided our lips together. Hey ho, let’s go. The kiss was messy, teeth grinding against teeth and tongues sloppily swirling together. His nails dug into my waist, definitely leaving marks. He was taking all of his built up rage out on me and I was more than happy to take it. Anything to get him off this damn roof. It wasn’t until he moved to my shirt that I stopped him. “Not here, inside.” He nodded, speed walking next to me as we finally got off the roof and headed to his room. Hey ho, let’s go. The boys were gone, thank God, responding to a supply drop transmission. We collapsed onto his bed, completely disregarding how wet we were from the rain. We practically ripped each others clothes off, using as much force as it took to strip down the fastest. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so god, kitten. Make you fucking scream.” He growls, quickly kneeling in front of me, draping one leg over his shoulder. He chuckles darkly as he pulls my panties to the side with his teeth. He kissed my clit earning a shaky breath from me. He glances up at me, smirking with that fucking smirk that makes my knees wobble. He takes a long, slow lick between my folds. I moan, fisting his raven hair in my hands as he sucks on my clit. His teeth lightly graze it before plunging his tongue deep into my core 

“Oh my god” I moan, tilting my head back into the pillow. He chuckles, sending vibrations through my body, causing my orgasm to quickly build up. Fuck, it’s been way too long. Hey ho, let’s go. I cross my ankles behind his upper back, pulling him closer to me by his hair.

“Now baby, no need for that” he chuckles, sounding more like a growl. He grabs both of my hands in his, pushing them against my sides. He pushes his face deeper, sending his tongue inside me deeper then before.

Fuck i’m cumming!” I scream, arching my back. Ghoul continues to lick and suck, pushing me over the edge releasing on to his tongue. I rolled my hips against his mouth, softly moaning. He releases my arms, bringing two fingers between the two of us, running them up my dripping folds before holding them up to me. I take them in your mouth, swirling your tongue around, enjoying how his eyes darkened at the sight.

“So sweet baby, sweetest cum I’ve ever tasted” he says cleaning me up.

“Ghoul, I want to suck your cock” I say breathlessly under him. He removes my legs from his shoulder, flipping us over. I automatically lick a trail down his stomach, admiring his tone figure and all of his tattoos. I stared at his dick in slight awe, long and thick. I lightly gripped his base, giving him a soft pump.

“Don’t tease me baby, I want to see how good you are with that pretty little mouth” he says, leaning down to get level with me. He runs his thumb over my bottom lip before connecting his lips with mine. He shoves his tongue between my lips, exploring every inch of my mouth. I continue to pump his shaft, causing his eyebrows to furrow with pleasure. I pull away and take his dick in my mouth. He moans, fisting my hair into a makeshift ponytail to have more control. I looked up at him and hollowed my cheeks, swirling my tongue around his thick length, and massage what I can’t fit in my mouth and his balls all at the same time. “You’re so sexy sucking my dick baby, giving me the best blowjob I’ve ever had” he says as I deep throat his length, I close my eyes and focus on taking all of him, which I quickly learn to be impossible. I gag pulling him completely out of my mouth to catch my breath. Admiring how gorgeous he looks like this.

“Do you like it when I suck your dick? Do you like having my lips around you?”

“Oh fuck yes Y/n, you’re so good with your mouth” He grunts, my confidence soaring. He continues to thrust into my mouth, moaning every time I would gag on him, He pulls out of my mouth, letting me catch my breath. I take one breath and take him back into my mouth.

“Oh you’re a little cock slut huh, you like having my cock in your mouth” He growls, his grip tightening in my hair. His dirty talk was intoxicating and became my second favorite thing he could do with his mouth. “Fuck baby, you’re gonna make me cum” He warns, causing me to pick up the speed and take him deeper. He roughly pulls me up to my feet.

“If I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum in that tight little pussy of yours.” I moan at his words, smashing our lips together.

“Talk dirty to me baby” I moan as he pushes inside of me. Neither of us were gonna last long, we both knew that. It’s been way too fucking long.

“You have the tightest pussy I’ve ever felt around my dick baby. God you’re so fucking hot. I can feel how close you are already, cum on me Y/n, cum for me kitten” he says in my ear. That was enough to send me over the edge alone.

“Frank!” I scream, using his real name. I open my eyes to stare into his as I released, whimpering his name over and over again as my nails fasten into his shoulders.

“We aren’t done yet sugar” he says slapping your ass signaling for me to get up. I stumble slightly, legs wobbly after two orgasms. “Let’s see, how do I want to fuck you on my desk” He smirks, pushing everything off his desk before bending me over it,. He spreads my legs slightly before thrusting into me as hard as he possibly could. I cry out, the new angle giving him deeper access.

“Oh fuck” I moan, gripping the edge of the desk. My nails dug into the hardwood, probably leaving marks.

“So tight,” he growled into my ear. “So tight and warm around my throbbing cock” he says pounding into me without mercy. I could feel all of his rage, all of his hatred at everything. He needed this, we needed this. “Oh god Y/n” he says grabbing my ass cheeks in his large hands, kneading them and slapping them playfully. “Y/n baby I’m going to cum” Ghoul groans, closing his eyes and trying to steady his breathing. 

“Me too…” I barley rasped out the words, struggling to speak at how good everything felt. My breaths became short as he thrust at top speed, making my vision go blurry. I knew my thighs would be bruised in the morning from his intense fucking, but I could really care less about tomorrow. My third orgasm builds up quickly this time with more pressure, the pleasure becoming far too much. Ghoul’s thrust began to get sloppy, and he reached down with the hand that wasn’t grabbing my breast to rub my swollen clit fiercely. I arched my back, throwing my head back in pleasure, “I’m cumming” I say weakly, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Wait,” he demands, speeding up his thrusts.

“Ghoul, I can’t hold it much longer” I pant, feeling his thrust get sloppy. 

“Okay baby, on three” he grunts. “1….2….3!” I scream his name as my orgasm washed through my body, my blood running hot. Ghoul releases deep inside of me, my orgasm sending him over the edge. He waits a few minutes before pulling out of me, picking up bridal style and back over to his bed. I curl up into his chest once he lays down, stroking his soppy wet hair. He smiles and cups my cheek, kissing my gently. The kiss was soft and gentle, everything the sex wasn’t. There’s a beautiful irony in that. “I didn’t mean to be that rough,”he frowned, running his thumb over one of the many bruises on my waist.

“It was great, you were great,” I reassured, and it was true. The rough side of him was hypnotizing and I couldn’t get enough of it. 

“Did you mean what you said? About needing me?”

“Of course I did, I honestly couldn’t live without you. I will always need you.”

“I need you too, in every way possible.” He said quietly, running a hand through my hair.

“We have a good life Ghoul, we do. It’s not perfect, bu it’s something worth fighting for.”

“You’re worth fighting for.”

Kay im gonna post this here too bc im just proud. (also pls dont judge old me, old me didnt knew better)

hey I’m pretty satisfied that i improved these past 3 years, like damn i went through a lot of art styles, like 50+ i kid you not, i even made a post about it lol, anywayyyy I’m glad i underwent that phase because you know I got where i want to be, I found the way I want to draw (it might change over time but heyyy at least people kinda recognize my style now?), I am really happy that I wasn’t afraid to try new things, like coloring and linearting and painting because I discovered a whole lot of things? Seriously, one layer painting is the bomb?? I discovered that i can do lineless art which is fuckin rad as hell bc lineart fucking sucks tbh. I discovered that I really like making comics? Even though theyre fucking torturous. I also discovered that anime (the super anime with big eyes and whatnot) isnt really my style? That i’m really comfortable with my semi realistic shits like these? Anyway wow this got really sappy lmao lemme end this shit here.

Idk if it’s my place to say this but to anyone who’s having trouble finding their own style, do not be afraid to try new things, who cares if no one recognizes your art now? In time, they will. You need to build yourself up first. Experiment, get out of your comfort zone and one day you’ll have your own unique style where people will go “Ah, this was made by (name)!!” when they see your art. Honestly, it’s so fulfilling. It takes time ok? Like, we all experience the self doubt, the comparing and shit, and that’s normal. That happens, it can’t be helped, but after you’re done with it, don’t stop drawing,  don’t ever stop, because once you do, you will never achieve the things that you envy from other people. I always fucking compare myself with others and it fucking sucks, i cant help it but I try hard, I draw and draw and draw so that someday I’ll be able to draw like the ones I adore, maybe even better! I know that I’m only gonna improve from here, and you guys will too! Art is a one way road, once you drive, there’s no other way but to move in that direction, move forward. Keep on drawing!

squares, triangles, and other shapes; ch1: definitely dating. definitely not lying about it.

alternate title: the most convoluted fake dating au of all time

on Ao3 | on ffnet

(that’s one hell of a title) 

i was lucky enough to hear about @chatuoir​’s incredibl(y messy) double fake dating au a month or two ago! we did a lot of screaming about it, which was always fun. anyway, lucia was awesome enough to let me try my hand at it, so here we are.

this is definitely the most complex thing i’ve written for the fandom, purely because of all the things that are happening in it. the basics of it aren’t exactly…basic. double fake dating in a love square. always fun!! also: rated t because they’re teenagers and there’s a lot of swearing.

i’ve only got the first chapter written, so updates for this fic might be a bit more spaced out! buckle up everyone, this is one hell of a rollercoaster.

Chat kicks his legs over the side of the Tower. It’s been a long patrol of mostly nothing, it’s rare that much comes up during these anyway. Usually it’s small things like robberies and assholes, almost never anything close to the size of an akuma.

Besides, it’s nice to hang out with Ladybug outside of akuma fights. When they were first starting out, patrols were mostly quiet and serious, despite his relentless attempts to crack jokes. But now he’s able to drop onto the Eiffel Tower with a greeting of, “Evening, My Lady. You look radiant as the moon tonight,” and she’ll just smile. They’re able to let conversation flow freely or sit in comfortable silence.

Chat adores having this relationship with Ladybug. He’s never had anything like this before. He never wants to lose it.

“…you’re not such a bad guy.”

He blinks. Okay, if he doesn’t want to lose her friendship, he should probably start paying more attention. “Yes,” he says, because that seems like a good response. Yeah, he’s not a bad guy. That’s true.

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anonymous asked:

I have prompst if you still do them :) Kara is jealous over Cat's attraction to Clark but it's actually her lighthouse technique to get Kara... Second prompt: Kara constantly sits on the balcony as Supergirl when Cat's away. Cat finds her there one night when she comes back.

two??? how about both in the same fic hell yeah lets go (got a bit long/?? almost 3k words lol)

“…Everything just falls away.” Cat turned on her heel, strutting back into the office, Kara following her close behind.

She huffed, trying to hide the frown stuck on her face at the open display of interest Cat gave over her cousin. She was hopeless, she had had a crush on Cat for so long, and seeing her interest laid on someone other than her was… annoying.

“I organised a few interviews for tomorrow, here’s the list of all the candidates each with pros and cons.” Kara placed the manila folder on Cat’s desk, folding her arms across her chest as Cat took up her throne behind the desk.

Cat put the folder aside for the moment, clasping her hands together. “Do you think Clark Kent would be interested in dinner?”


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anonymous asked:

Prompt: Dottie Underwood: Wedding Crasher

This one is long enough it’ll probably end up on AO3 soon, but here’s the fresh, lightly edited version.

The Carter-Sousa wedding was held at Howard Stark’s Los Angeles property. Howard had tried to talk Peggy into holding the ceremony in the Caribbean, but Peggy flatly refused to be married on a private island, and was unswayed by Howard’s argument that he only owned half the island. (“And it’s a very small island!” “Howard, I said no.”)

Howard had managed to get her to take his counter-offer, however. He was covering the costs of flying both Peggy and Daniel’s families to L.A., and also had offered them a five-day honeymoon up the coast at a very exclusive resort – the owner was a friend – which Peggy accepted only because she was afraid if she didn’t, he’d come up with something worse.

Apparently (and Peggy knew exactly who to blame) there was now a betting pool in the New York office to guess how long it would take before the Carter-Sousa honeymoon was derailed by crime-solving shenanigans. Jack, from all accounts, had put his money on six hours. Peggy was very tempted to place a bet herself, if she could only have figured out a way to do it anonymously from three time zones away.

Mostly, in the run-up to the event, she tried not to think about it. There was very little preparation to do. She didn’t want to be married in a creamy confection of lace and tulle, like the one she’d almost married Fred in; instead, she took a half-day to visit L.A. shops and had Ana help her pick out a simple ivory-colored sheath. She turned Rose loose on the decorations, because otherwise it was going to be either a) her mother, or b) Howard, and neither of those options bore thinking about, while she trusted that Rose would enjoy the endeavor and would come up with something tasteful and appropriate.

She started to rethink that plan when workmen arrived early on the morning of the wedding to deck the mansion in flowers, crepe, and bunting.

“Howard is paying for it,” Rose reported cheerily, having shown up early herself.

“Of course he is,” Peggy sighed.

Both families were now being hosted at the mansion – Peggy’s parents and great-aunts and several cousins (together with their families) that she hadn’t seen in years, and Daniel’s father and grandfather and several more cousins. It was strange to see so many people wandering about the grounds: elderly British ladies making discreetly shocked comments about the heat, young men from Brooklyn affecting a casual city-kid attitude about their opulent surroundings, children trying to pull the flamingo’s tail … and quite a number of young ladies that Peggy had never seen before, and was fairly sure were not relatives of Daniel’s.


“They’re my friends,” he said with wounded innocence. “You invited your friends.”

“Howard. I am the bride.”

“It’s good to know that you haven’t forgotten,” he said, casting a eye down at her light blue pantsuit.

“Oh please, the ceremony isn’t until one. How long can it take to put on a dress?”

She found Daniel out in the gazebo where the ceremony was going to take place, sitting on a bench and supervising Jack, who was up on a stepladder, hanging up bunting.

“I flew all the way out to L.A. and you didn’t ask me to be your best man,” Jack was saying as she wandered up. “I’m feeling very unappreciated right now.”

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anonymous asked:

Fic where Stiles is supposed to be meeting someone for a blind date and he sees Derek and assumes (wrongly) that he's his date. :)

Derek takes his credit card back from the cashier and moves down the counter to wait for his coffee.  While he waits, he sticks his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and zones out reading a pamphlet on the wall next to him.

Suddenly, he’s startled back into reality by a voice behind him.

“Hey, nice jacket.”

Derek turns around to see a guy standing behind him, huge smile plastered on his face and brown eyes bright in the dim lighting.  He looks the guy up and down quickly, appraising him.  The guy isn’t classically attractive, but there’s something about his angular face and the smattering of moles on it that Derek likes.  He’s not buff, but he clearly has some muscle definition beneath the layers he’s wearing-a plaid shirt with a brown Game of Thrones t-shirt underneath.

“Nice shirt,” Derek responds.

The guy’s grin gets even wider. “Thanks, man. Are you a fan?”

“Duh,” Derek responds, “I have HBO.”

The guy laughs at this and sticks his hand out. He has impossibly long fingers. “I’m Stiles,” he says.

A little reluctantly, Derek pulls his own hand out of his jacket pocket and shakes the guy-Stiles’ hand. “Derek.”

Stiles drops his hand and gestures at the interior of the coffee shop. “So, should I get us a seat?”

Derek stares. That was a bold move.

Stiles’ grin falters and he runs a hand across the back of his neck. “Or…not?”

Derek wonders how a guy who seemed so confident one second could look so tragically insecure in the next.  Something about how his face had just dropped so suddenly makes Derek say, “No, I mean…yeah. Grab us a seat.”

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Mali-Koa's Little Brother

A/N: your best friend Mali introduces you to her baby brother, Calum Hood 😉 (requested) enjoy humans ✌️

Mali was just the best time ever. You were both the most carefree girls when you were in a loose and loud environment. If you guys got wasted you would hop on tables and start to dance like a stripper while Mali throws dollar bills at you. Eventually you’d be getting kicked out of the every place you went into but it was okay because you would both just stroll the night along the city being silly and causing more chaos. Summer nights were the best as long as you had her by your side. She had invited you to a small lunch at her family’s house. You loved hanging with her parents because they were just such laidback and funny people. She’s always mentioned having a younger brother who was in a rock band but was almost never home. You expected to see a preteen boy with his group of friends, in their own little world. But were up for quite a rude awakening.
You knocked at her front door and she smiled really wide trying to say something really excited. “Y/N! You will never guess who came home last week!” “Haha I don’t know, your grandparents?” “No you muppet, it’s my brother Calum! You finally get to meet my baby brother. You’re going to love him trust me.” “Oh nice! Did he just get back from like summer camp or something?” She shook her head and took your hand, leading you to the living room. “I’m going to get us some drinks yeah?” You smiled nodding your head and thanking her. You heard someone come down the stairs calling Mali’s name. “Mali was that Luke at the door!” He froze to find you sitting on the couch such glaring off into space which just happened to be his face. He smirked almost immediately and slowly walked towards you, as you felt you face heating up in shock because he was pretty hot. In that moment, Mali had walked in with two glasses. “Oh Cal good! There you are.” She then grabbed your hand and pulled you next to her, snapping you from your daze. “This is my brother Calum. Calum this is Y/N.” You mouth gaped a little and tried to say something. “Oh my god. You said he was your little brother.” “He is?” You smiled a little flustered as he held out his hand to you. “Trust me there is an exaggeration on the little. I dare anyone to tell me any part of me is little.” “Oh god Calum seriously?” She groaned hitting his shoulder and walking into the kitchen. “It was nice meeting you Calum.” You smiled lightly, following Mali into the kitchen. “I’m sorry he’s just weird. He gets way too comfortable with saying anything that crosses his mind. I’m telling you, he’ll do anything to try and woo a girl. But generally he’ll keep to himself. If tries anything, just let me know.” She winked punching you playfully on the shoulder. “Nah, it’s ok. That’s a little brother for ya. I just I didn’t except him to look… Like that. Mali I’m sorry I’m not gonna lie, but your brother is kind’ve… hot?” She scrunched her nose and smiled, shaking her head. “Ew Y/N. No way. But to tell you the truth, you aren’t the first one to think so.” Your face dropped a little. If you were one of many, what was the point? “Don’t let it get to you. It takes a lot to impress him. He’s a picky bastard, that explains why he hasn’t had too many girlfriends. But it doesn’t seem like it’ll be too much work for you.” She smirked, wagging her eyebrows. “Oh god Mal, why?” You buried your face in your hands while she started laughing. You then heard Joy calling Mali to help her in the backyard. “Hey Y/N, maybe you should wait in the living room. I think you may have left something in there.” She smirked. “Actually I did, my drink.” You responded cleverly, sticking your tongue out at her. You cautiously opened the swing door and peeked to see if he was still in there. Vacant. You sighed, reaching down to grab your drink. “Looking for me?” Someone whispered in your ear. You gasped turning to see the dark haired boy biting the inside of his lip. You nervously giggled. “Ah no. I just forgot my drink.” You said walking forward while he walked backwards, still in your way. “Where you going?” He smiled widely asked spreading his arms out. “Outside Calum.” You muttered. “Do I make you nervous?” He raised his eyebrows at you. Before you had a chance to answer, he slowly attempted to hold your wrist, pulling you the opposite direction. You didn’t know what was going on but you felt almost vulnerable and let him have his way. He lead you up the stairs and to his room. “Sit down babe.” You awkwardly took a seat on the bed and stared at him with no sense of what was going to happen next. He walked towards you and brought his face way too close for people who had literally just met like ten minutes ago. “I need your help.” You tilted you head, asking why with your eyes. “I’m going to the club tomorrow with some mates and I’m having trouble choosing a shirt.” You panicked a little inside, knowing exactly where this was going. He held up two button up shirts. “Uh I don’t know, the black one?” You stammered, wanting to get through the fact that this was actually happening. “Maybe you should see it on me just to be sure.” He winked at you. He stripped his tee off and you felt like your drink was going to slip out of your hand. You shifted your position a little too much. His lean and structured body was so perfect. It was not to reach out and stroke his body right there but you were in too much shock. “What do you think?” He asked walking back towards you. “Think of what? You’re not even wearing a top…” You breathed out, trying not to look for too long. He sat next to you, scanning your body. He hovered above you. “I know you want me.” He whispered to you. You then heard Mali’s voice calling your name up the stairs. Calum quickly got off of you and immediately threw on a top and tried to act casual. She sighed giving you a devious smile as she entered the room. “I had a feeling you’d be up here. I hope he didn’t freak the hell out of you.” She said taking your hand and giving him an annoyed look. “Honestly Calum, you just met her. Give it a rest.” You looked back as he winked at you slowly following after you guys. You couldn’t help but smile back. You knew this wasn’t over. After lunch, you spent the rest of the day up in Mali’s old room. “So… What were you doing up in my brother’s room?” She just had to ask. “Believe it or not. He needed help picking out a shirt for his night out.” “Oh that reminds me, we’re going to a club tomorrow for my old co-worker’s birthday so pick something sexy to wear.” You froze and hoped it wasn’t the same place Calum had planned on going.
“How do I look?” You asked as you stepped out of the bathroom in a maroon colored body felt dress. The lace sleeves covering your arm and trailing back on your low back side. “Oh hot as fuck… Geez. Turn around.” You spinned a 360 circle, giving her a full view. “It’s not really my taste Mal, I don’t know about this.” “No, trust me. You look amazing. I knew this was it for you.” “You look beautiful too babe.” “Let’s get the hell out of here before we lose good seats at the back booth.” Your one wish was that you could defeat against the odds that you would find Calum at the same club; but sadly fate wasn’t too kind in your circle tonight.
You walked into the club to find the biggest party you’ve been to in a while. You were no party animal but it was nice to cut loose and look/feel hot for one night once again. You greeted many of yours and Mali’s friends who turned out. You were about four drinks in and already were all over the place; not in a typsy way but just having the best time ever and talking to everyone; meeting new people and stepping out your comfort zone. You went to the bathroom and fixed your brick red lipstick. You came out trying to find Mali when someone grabbed your waist. “Hey sexy.” You heard that familiar voice in your ear. “Oh god… You’re here too. I knew it.” Your breath hitched. He was wearing that black top you picked out with a dog tag around his neck. He smelled insanely good. He pulled you closer to his body and start moving against you. He eventually started taking your waist back further and further until you pressed against an iscolated wall corner. He inhaled and stroked your hair away from your shoulders. “Have you been drinking babe?” You shrugged your shoulders and tried to break free. He leaned in and lightly brushed his lips against your neck. “Calum?” “Hm?” He hummed from your neck, trailing kisses on your shoulder. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look so fucking good.” You said feeling his sides in an up and downward motion. But also surprised at your sudden confidence. “How can I not though? You’re technically leading me on.” He said smirking at you. “I’m sorry Calum but I can’t. It’s just wrong.” “It doesn’t feel wrong does it?” He said trailing his hand down to your butt. He got you there. You gulped. One kiss wouldn’t hurt. You leaned in and layed one on him. It did feel pretty fucking good, his lips felt so plump and it was hard to stop. You pulled away with your eyes widened. His hooded (HA) eyes fascinated at how you couldn’t help yourself. After a second of realizing how good it felt, you smiled yourself and teasingly felt him up. You started to kiss under his ear and across his jaw. Your hands trailed down his body while you never left eye contact with his. You brought your lips back to his and wrapped your right leg around his waist. He brushed his hand down your body and held it up against him; also grinding up on you. He slowly pulled the top area of your dress to expose a little more of your chest and kneaded it, moaning on your mouth. He was smooth and you hated it yet loved it too. Your open mouth make out session had gotten interrupted when a tall blonde guy had lightly shoved his shoulder. You both pulled away, yourself feeling flustered at what just happened. “We have to go man, Paul’s waiting in the car outside!” He shouted over the loud music and pulling on his shoulder. Calum groaned and lightly smacked your butt as he walked past you. You looked back and saw he bit his lip and winked, mouthing ‘later’ while being dragged away. You felt almost angry that you couldn’t go any further. He was so good and you couldn’t have craved anything more than his touch and affection. You fixed your bra and stood up to hopefully find Mali. Your thoughts immediately vanished when she sneaked up behind you. “BOO!” You closed your eyes, dreading having to turn around and face her after what just happened. “I saw that. You TOTALLY just hooked up with my brother,” you looked at your feet and blushed pretty damn bad. “you must really like to gross me out. No scratch that, you must really WANT him.” She said puckering her lips at you. “If you guys weren’t related, you’d totally understand,” she fake gagged and shook her head. “where have you been all night? I’ve been looking for you.” “Oh yeah clearly. I just don’t think we’re talking about the same Hood here.” She smiled as she pointed her chin towards the door where Calum had left. “Oh shut up.” You said swatting her arm laughing. “Is it bad that I really want to see him again?” “No I don’t think so but I’d rather not think about the reason why.” She raised her eyebrows gesturing you to fix your bra a little more. “Just say the word and he’s all yours.” She said leaning in and waiting for you to respond. “FINE. I like Calum. Happy now?” She giggled, nodding her head and clapped her hands, texting him all your information. “Y'all are so cute.” She said wrapping an arm around you; you burying your face in your hands again. Not long after, your phone vibrated and he invited you to see him the next day at his place for “coffee ;)”. Oh he’s good.

Part 2: http://chilledoutdirectioner.tumblr.com/post/122294638419/mali-koas-little-brother-part-2
Girl Meets Popular Farkle [Riarkle Fanfic] Final Chapter!

Fast forward to GMW’s junior year. Farkle is officially THE popular guy at Abigail Adams, it was bound to happen with his brains, looks and charm, but Riley’s having a difficult time sharing her best friend with the Farkle fanatics. Multi-fic story exploring what it’s like for Riley to be on the other side of this predicament. Did she miss her chance?


Chapter 1: THE Farkle and the best friend [x]

Chapter 2: #1 Homecoming Draft Pick [x]

Chapter 3: The Purple Astronaut and Pluto [x]

Chapter 4: Maya, Smackle Time [x]

Chapter 5: Mr. Matthews’ Daughter [x]

THANK YOU for keeping up with the story! I hope you enjoy the final chapter! 

Chapter 6 | Final: Princess Anne & Joe 

Topanga let the guys tire themselves out, it was Cory who surrendered first and hunched over catching his breath as Farkle ran around the lot. He took it as his opportunity to make a break for it and offered Auggie a piggyback ride and told Mrs. Matthews she’d treat her son to some ice cream for all his help.

They jumped in the jeep and took off. Riley stood on the steps with her arm around Ava, “Should I be upset that my boyfriend took my brother out for ice cream before me?”

Ava chuckled and Topanga shook her head, “No sweetie, if anything it makes him even more of a keeper. Your brother and I are fans and your father, well he’ll learn to love the boyfriend Farkle. Speaking of, let’s help your dad before he melts into the parking lot.”

They all made their way to Cory and assisted him to the car. Topanga dropped Riley and Ava off at the café, then brought Cory home to rest.

Ava ran over to Auggie and gave him a high-five for the awesome chase earlier. They settled in their usual seats by the bookcase while Riley and Farkle sauntered to the counter.

Without thinking about it, he reached for her hand and they intertwined their fingers, “Mrs. Hunter could I please…”

Katy had her back turned to them finishing up a pie when she spun around and immediately took notice of their handhold.

“Oh my…AHH!” She yelped with excitement and ran around the counter to hug the both of them. “I knew it! I win, my husband loses!”

“Aunt Katy, what are you talking about?” Katy sheepishly wiped her hands on her apron, “Oh well Shawn didn’t think a Minkus could end up with a Matthews but I know my kids…” She grabbed both of their chins and thanked the both of them.

“I’m going to make you a milkshake! And a red velvet cake! And…whatever else you want! Oh baby girl I am so happy for you.” She hugged Riley warmly again and returned to the kitchen to get to work.

Farkle chuckled and led Riley to the group’s café spot.

They sat in the double chairs facing each other. Riley had her elbow on the back of the chair staring up at Farkle who had one of his ankle’s crossed onto his knee.

“Quite an eventful couple of hours…” Riley commented as she gazed into his eyes. He nodded his head, “Best day of my life so far.”

“Ugh get a room!” The pair turned around as Maya waltzed in with Smackle following behind, the two girls holding empty cups and a smoothie drenched Thomas trailed after them.

“This is your fault!” He pointed at the couple and they burst into laughter as soon as they saw him. Katy walked over and handed him a towel, “Maya, Isadora…show this poor boy to the sink to clean up.”

Maya reluctantly led them but stopped and went to Farkle. She leaned over and whispered something in his ear. He nodded obediently and she smirked to herself and the three walked away.

“What was that about?” Riley could see the frightened look on his face.

“Typical scary Maya I know all too well.” He casually brushed it off even though internally he was alarmed.

She squeezed his hand supportively and the two steered the subject to tomorrow night. Riley tried to pepper Farkle with questions but he was not revealing any clues or hints except it was going to be a memorable night.

The following afternoon Riley sat in the bay window excited and anxious for what was to come. It was about 4 PM and Farkle instructed her to be in her room ready for the works at this time.

The clock struck exactly and a knock came from her door. Her mom entered the room along with a stylist, makeup artist and assistant.

One rolled in a trunk of goodies, while another began to put clothes on her bed and the other set up a full styling station. Riley and Topanga stood in front of the dress, it was perfection – a complete identical lace dress Audrey Hepburn’s character Princess Anne wore at the end of the movie.

She noticed the little purple envelope with her name on it and picked it up. She opened it and noticed the familiar writing:

“Let’s have the happily ever after Princess Anne and Joe Bradley should have had at the end of their story. –Love, Farkle”

The stylist stood behind Riley and introduced himself as Dylan, Mrs. Minkus’ personal stylist. “Farkle selected this ensemble himself. Thanks to your beautiful mom here we got your measurements and custom-made this piece just for you. Farkle wanted you to really be the princess of homecoming and thought this was the perfect look. We made the exact accompanying headpiece she wore in the movie, Mrs. Minkus made sure it was just perfect.”  

Riley’s eyes were wide, her mouth had been ajar, “This is too much.”

“Farkle and his parents thought you would probably say that but hope you accept this gift from them.”

Topanga encouraged Riley to enjoy herself for the night, reminding her of her many accomplishments and how much Farkle and his parents really prepared to ensure she had the time of her life.

“Let’s do it!” Riley agreed but asked if two of her best girl friends could share this very generous gift.

On cue, Smackle and Maya walked into the room. The girls all got their hair and makeup done by Dylan’s team.

While Maya and Riley waited for Smackle to finish up they sat at the bay window.

“You’re so beautiful Peaches!” Riley was in complete awe of her best friend and Maya pulled her in for a hug.

“You too, honey. By the way, I got you something.” Maya made her way to the side of the room and held a large canvas toward her so Riley couldn’t see what was painted on it.

Maya sat back down and reached for Riley’s hand, “Riley, I am so proud of you for doing something that was incredibly difficult and out of your comfort zone, and I am even more excited that you found a man who I could honestly say is worthy of your love because no one deserves better than you.”

Riley broke out in a wide grin and did her best to repress her tears, “Maya.” She wrapped her arms around her for a hug. “You’re the best friend I could ever have.” The two let go of each other and Maya turned over the canvas.

“The piece I finished is for you – it started off differently but I wanted to give you a keepsake of your moment, it’s your astronaut hugging Pluto because you made it Riley. You reached what you thought was your ‘unattainable’ thing. Even though he was never unattainable, he was always in your grasp waiting for you.” Riley really couldn’t hold back her tears and even though the makeup artist had to fix it, everyone in the room agreed it was worth the precious moment.

Once everyone was set the girls all went outside where a limousine was waiting for them. Maya decked out in her pink dress inspired by Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Smackle was in a striking white and black ensemble very similar to the extravagant outfit with matching hat from My Fair Lady.  They all piled in and made their way to the café with their parents to take photos.

The guys were there including Zay and his date Alyssa, Riley’s fellow cheerleader was picture perfect in a gorgeous red dress modeled after Funny Face.

As everyone gathered Riley couldn’t find Farkle but she spotted his parents who eagerly met her with excitement.

“Oh my goodness, you’re a dead ringer for Audrey’s Princess Anne!” Mrs. Minkus enveloped her in a hug. “So gorgeous! I am so happy you and Farkle are finally dating Riley, I’ve been telling him for years to tell you but…”

Mr. Minkus chuckled, “Dear, try not to embarrass Farkle, I mean the two of them just got together yesterday. We are very happy for you and Farkle, Riley. And we’re one step closer to uniting Matthews-Minkus.” He playfully poked fun as Cory walked up with Topanga.

“Eggghkk!” Cory squealed but followed up with a laugh.

“Oh no pressure Riley.” Topanga added and Riley shook her head, it was just yesterday her and her best friend finally shared how they felt. Now it was like her parents and Farkle’s parents’ happiness depended on their relationship’s success.

Sure they were joking but deep down inside she had a feeling it was a smidge of the truth. After all Mr. Minkus had been in love with Topanga growing up, Mrs. Minkus and her dad had really forged a friendship that had been the complete opposite in their youth, and her mom had joked that if Riley and Farkle ever did get together their future kids would get A’s for days.

No pressure. She reminded herself with a roll of her eyes.

She took out her phone and called Farkle.

He didn’t answer but as she stood by the front door looking for him she could hear something coming from up the staircase.

She ascended the stairs and continued to search for him til she got to the street and he was standing there in a dark grey pinstriped suit and burgundy tie. She stood in front of him in her white lace dress. He leant against a vintage metallic mint green colored Vespa, reminiscent from the movie.

“You’re stunning.” She couldn’t help but blush, he took out his Polaroid camera and took a photo of her and she scoffed.

“I wasn’t ready.” She lightly shoved his shoulder and the two laughed. Standing at the top of the stairs their friends took photos of the pair.

Zay rolled his eyes, “Let me guess, they win cutest couple tonight?”

Everyone else nodded. Smackle sighed dreamily, “The Prince and the Princess. I still wanna know which one of you campaigned for Riley for homecoming princess?”

The group was silent until the girl in the red dress hesitantly raised her hand.

“Alyssa?” Zay asked his date, the two had a couple of classes together and she had a crush on him for a while. She built up the courage and asked him at last week’s baseball game.

She giggled, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been a Riarkle fan since second semester of freshman year. They were always so cute during PE, running the mile together and pairing up for badminton. It needed to happen.”

Thomas held his arm around Smackle’s shoulder. Smackle bobbed her head, “You and me both sister…they’re made for each other. It has been my conclusion that feelings are much stronger than science.”

They watched as Riley surprised Farkle with the astronaut cufflinks and Farkle hugged Riley close to him and she leaned forward to share a kiss.

Maya made a noise of disgust, “Ugh get a room Riarkle!”

She pulled out her phone and took a photo of them. “Alright maximum cuteness overload surpassed, let’s take some group photos to appease the parents and get this show on the road!”

As the ringleader she managed to get everyone in place for a number of group photos, couple photos, family photos, father-daughter photos, just girls photos, just guys photos, singles photos.

Shawn was in the midst of taking another photo of her when she took his camera. “Dad enough already! At this rate your family photo wall at the house is going to be covered in a second layer of frames.” She handed her mom the camera and as Zay posed in front of the Vespa and was making Farkle take a second ‘sophisticated’ photo of him with the Polaroid camera she grabbed it and handed it to Mrs. Minkus.

“I think that’s all of the photo taking devices that aren’t also a phone. Okay everyone let’s go!” Everyone dutifully listened to the girl in pink and made their way to the limo.

Farkle offered his hand and helped Riley onto the back of the Vespa. She removed her headpiece and traded it for a helmet. Maya strolled over to the pair of them and offered to take Riley’s headpiece and clutch.

Maya helped her buckle her helmet then helped Farkle with his, Riley watched as Maya whispered something to him and then very tightly buckled his helmet on to the point he made a squeal and had to loosen it to comfortably rest around his head.

“Do I want to know?” Riley asked with concern.

Farkle peeked around and gave her a reassuring peck on the cheek. “Just Maya being her usually scary and protective over Riley self. Gotta respect that.” He gazed over a little longer, “You look really cute in your helmet.”

She scrunched up her face humorously and he chuckled. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and Topanga walked over with Farkle’s mom to wish them a lot of fun and took a few more photos.

“Where’s dad?” Riley asked and right behind her she saw the headlights of her father’s car shine on them.

Topanga glanced at the car behind them, “Your dad, Stuart, and Shawn are going to trail behind…you know because this isn’t Rome it’s New York and Cory’s probably more protective than Maya.”

The two moms wished them luck and waved them off. The café wasn’t that far from the hotel ballroom the homecoming dance was located but Farkle drove especially careful with Riley holding on and their dads right behind them.

At first the limo was in front of them but Maya wanted a better view of this romantic-comedy co-starring Matthews and Minkus with a special guest appearance by Shawn, so she asked the limo driver to stay beside the Vespa.

Riley couldn’t help herself and laughed giddily at the situation, but all the while she thoroughly enjoyed the New York view at night from where she was seated.

She pointed at things and buried the side of her face into Farkle’s back when she wanted to relax and soak in the moment.

Maya, Smackle and Zay poked their heads out from the sunroof to take photos of the couple and get an even better view. Alyssa had to pull Zay back down so she could have a turn at the rooftop view.

Finally they all reached the dance and the valet took Farkle’s Vespa to park. Seeing that the kids made it to the dance safely, the dads let the kids enjoy themselves without them. They promised as soon as the dance was over they were coming back to accompany them home.

Cory gave Farkle an extra stare down as he hugged his daughter.

When they were guardian-free Maya led everyone to the ballroom for an eventful evening. The ballroom was decorated encompassing elements of Audrey Hepburn’s famous movies including the tiffany box blue tablecloths, the dance floor dreamily decorated to resemble the dance floor on the boat of Roman Holiday, balloon arrangements mirroring Funny Face, attendees could take a photo in front of a sports car like the one from Sabrina. It was simply perfection.

The group enjoyed themselves on the dance floor for awhile everyone danced in a large group, then when a slow song came on for the first time Farkle asked Riley to dance.

He suavely spun her into him and she let out a content sigh, “Pinch me I’m dreaming.”

He opted to kiss her instead and she nodded, “That’ll do.”

They continued to sway, Riley rested the side of her face into his chest, when she looked up she noticed him staring down at her.

“Farkle?” She asked studying his concerned gaze.

He shut his eyes briefly, “Sorry I had a moment myself where I was wondering if this was real. I’ve wanted to do this for a really long time. I almost can’t believe it, that I’m at the dance with the most amazing, gorgeous girl I have ever met.”

Her smile grew widely and she tugged on his blazer collar, “Even before you were seen as this popular guy, to me you were always on an exceedingly high level compared to most if not all guys. Come to think of it, most guys I ‘dated’ I’d ask myself if they were anywhere close to Farkle’s level?”

He playfully pushed, “And?”

She shook her head, “Obviously no one came close.”

Maya and Lucas appeared beside them also swaying along, “Except for me, right Riley?” Lucas asked with a joking tone.

“Mom and dad were you spying on me?” Riley inquired with a suspicious look.

Maya peered at them sternly, “Farkle keep those hands where I can see them!”

Farkle rolled his eyes.

“Lucas!” He begged.

Lucas shook his head, “Not til Riley says I am on the same level as you my friend…” He teasingly commented.

Maya laughed, “I’ll settle this, Lucas honey, you’re in a league of your own.”

He aww’ed, “Thanks love.”

She let out a chuckle, “No one said it was an exceptional league…”

Maya waved to Riley and Farkle and began to dance away with Lucas. They could hear the two bickering humorously until they disappeared to the other side of the dance floor.

“Hey Matthews,” Riley turned her attention toward him as they danced. “Thanks for picking me.” Farkle playfully said but internally was completely serious.

Riley pressed a kiss to his lips and rested the side of her face into his chest, “Every time.”

anonymous asked:

What happened at your old barn?

Warning: I am going to answer this in full so that you (and whoever is willing to read this) can understand my struggle with riding and how it has affected me today. Also, because it’s super important to learn to recognize signs of psychological abuse. Coaches/trainers are a huge part of our lives and they imprint on us.

AAES in Northern VA was my first real barn. I had learned to w/t and some canter on a friends pony in their backyard, previously, but it was very on and off, and I wanted consistency. I just started middle school and I wanted to get serious about riding.

When we went to check the AAES out, it was so beautifully deceptive: tons of stalls filled with all sorts of horses, a huge indoor arena, a fancy viewing room for parents, pictures of the trainer on the wall, etc. It’s supposed to be a dressage barn, and my mom thought that would be a good foundation for me, but we never really did dressage there.

It was required for new riders of AAES to go on the lunge line for 3 months (no matter if you just started or you you’ve been riding all your life. EVERYBODY. Mind you we never did no-stirrup or other balance exercises. Just regular riding in a tight circle) before being moved into a group lesson. For 2 whole years, I did w/t around the arena in a “follow the leader” type line assembly (except that we were told to be in a certain order, and that we could not pass each other. Sometimes we would have ponies in the front and big warmbloods in the back. Never made sense). Cantering was a privilege. We were in dressage saddles with long stirrups, not the best for beginners, and we always had to hold the reins at the buckle. If we even slightly picked up the reins, we would get a huge lecture about pulling on the horses face, being unfair to the horse, and being awful, careless riders. If you did it again after the lecture, you were immediately taken off the horse, no refund. Now imagine how spoiled and bratty these horses were, because we had no control over them as beginners. I had to ride this little mare that would lunge to bite other horses and I would get yelled at for letting her attack them or for pulling on the reins to prevent her from doing so. Also crops were completely out of the question, no matter what, and honestly some of those lesson horses needed them. They got away with everything. Spoiled rotten.

My mom had asked for jumping lessons because she wanted me to do something other than endless circles of w/t , so the trainer had her and other parents pay extra $, and all we ended up doing was trotting over poles. I trotted over a cross-rail twice out of 6 ”jumping” lessons (and mind you, all the horses have side-reins that the trainer would never take off. I hated those damn things. We had to tie them ourselves and she would check them before we mounted. I never got them right. Looking back, I think she always redid them to make us feel inferior).

Marina, the owner/head trainer, used to compete prix saint george. She’s from Germany, which is why we used to call her “the nazi” outside of the barn (and also because I had a sneaky feeling she was racist. She didn’t treat anybody well, but I always felt she was particularly harsh with me. I’m half indian btw). She taught most of our lessons, especially since she kept hiring and firing assistant trainers left and right. She never kept any employee for more than a month; she would fire them or they would quit. She was all about money and didn’t care about us. Sometimes we would have the odd lesson with a random assistant and their style of riding would be completely different, so we would get yelled at for using the inside rein to turn with the head trainer, even though it was perfectly fine with the assistant. Very confusing, and it was always our fault for not knowing better.

Us lesson kids were terrified of Marina…if we had problems tacking up (can’t find something, horse won’t take the bit, etc.) we would team up and help each other, because we knew that Marina would berate them if they asked her for help or if she found something wrong with the grooming/tack (which she always did anyways). She was demeaning and condescending. She was always composed. It was never “you stupid fuckin idiot why the hell do you even try?”, but just this cold, disappointed, “you will never be as good as me, or anything for that matter” attitude towards us. l don’t ever remember her complimenting me. The only positive thing I remember is that during a lesson, I told her I was going to miss my next lesson because my family was going skiing. She smiled and told me that skiing would make me a better rider. Thats it. Everything else was constant negativity, which was ironic since we were barely doing anything but w/t around the arena with loose reins. I especially remember her slogan, which was her saying “You’ll never be an olympic rider” with disdain every time I made a mistake. It was embarrassing when I went to France and my cousin who started riding later than me was a much better rider and mocked me. Trainers at the French camp thought it was ridiculous how little I could ride. I felt attacked on all fronts, nothing I did was right, and I never improved.

We were forced to attend weekly theory lessons, where we sat in this room and learned about anatomy/feed/dressage/etc. Marina, I swear she had a six sense, would always call on people when they clearly didn’t know the answer. The few times I raised my hand, I was never called. The many times I tried to avoid eye-contact because I didn’t know the answer, I was called on and humiliated.
We had these half-year assessments that she would make a big deal of. We started of with a color based on riding ability, and if you passed your assessment, you went up a color in ability. Those assessments were hell in 3 parts. 1st part was oral. You had to groom and tack up a horse while somebody asked questions about anatomy/breed. 2nd part was written, based on the theory classes. 3rd part was a dressage test. That was a joke, because none of us knew more than going around the arena and the occasional serpentine (and most of it was follow the leader). 60% was passing. Myself, and most others, would receive something just around 60-63%. AKA it was implied that we were useless shit and that we should be grateful/feel lucky that Marina pitied us enough to advance us.

The car ride home after a lesson was awful. All our parents carpooled, and it was awkward, because there was always someone who would cry on the way home. We all would comfort her or just stay silent, because quite frankly it was a usual occurrence. There was one girl, who was a bit on the chubby side but not extremely heavy, that Marina used to harass all the time. She would tell her that she couldn’t ride because she was hurting the horses’ backs. She would discuss a diet and exercise plan…all of this was said out loud in the middle of a group lesson. She would also tell parents how to raise there kids and point out flaws that weren’t even relevant to riding. Marina was an awful human being.

It came to the point where I was becoming very emotionally fragile. I hated being scolded. I just couldn’t answer her anymore, I didn’t know what to say. Instead of constantly apologizing, I just nodded my head or gave no response. Even during our rides, I would zone out (which was not hard to do since I was never line leader). It was to the point where she would be criticizing me and I wouldn’t notice for awhile until she asked a question and then I’d snap back to reality. Almost like a Dissociative disorder. Except that’s not what Marina thought of it. This woman had the nerve to go to my mother and tell her that she thought I should get “checked out,” because she believed that I was mentally retarded.
I have always been an honors/AP student, top of my class. And I consistently got the best scores on the theory part of her dumb assessments. That was when my mother and I planned on leaving. Except we couldn’t, because the contract we had signed at my very first lesson dictated that we stayed for 2 years. If we left early, we would have lost a lot of money. Several painful months later, the very day my contract ran out, I said quiet goodbyes to my fellow riders after my last lesson and left without a word to Marina. My mom emailed her later, saying that we were never returning. I have not encountered her since. I don’t know what I would do in that situation. My biggest fear is seeing her again and crumbling in front of her.

I was at another barn for half a year, but it didn’t work out, and now I’m at my 3rd barn, my forever home. I cried uncontrollably the first time my current trainer critiqued me, but it’s now been 4 years and she hasn’t given up on me.
I still feel very affected by what happened at AAES. I am very hesitant/cautious/passive; It’s hard for me to approach people and ask questions. I still zone out when I’m in uncomfortable situations. My riding stalled for a while, because of confidence issues. I was never scared of horses or falling, but of failure. Competing has been, and still is a process for me. I have yet to come out of the arena/course and feel like I did my best. I have thrown really embarrassing hissy fits and had panic attacks at shows because of my anxiety. But the main effect of my experience is that I am extremely intimidated by authority figures. Teachers, choral directors, coaches…I always want to please them (and my perfectionism will make me go above and beyond regardless of my health) but I feel like I can’t or its not good enough. I don’t know how to act around them. A bad grade destroys me. Getting reprimanded by a teacher, even for something like talking during class, leaves me feeling sick for a week. I can’t look them in the eyes. I’m still a bit weird with my current trainer, but she gets it. I don’t want to go to the Olympics, I never did. I’m happy just riding.

I definitely have gotten better from when I first left AAES, but it is still a process. I know people who still ride there…some sort of sick Stockholm syndrome. I don’t wish for anyone to go through what I did.
Don’t sign binding contracts. Looks are deceiving; fancy means nothing. Obviously this is a trainer’s livelihood, but if they care more about the $, you are wasting your time and resources. Trainers should be direct, but if you end up crying half of the time, it is not worth the pain. Your trainer is not God, they are not perfect, they are not always right, they do not know everything. If you feel stuck in your riding, move on to somewhere else. I could go on.

Sorry this was so long…I even took out bits to shorten it. I just have so much to say about this and so many individual examples as to why Marina Genn and her facility, AAES, is a complete nightmare.

noboysandnobras  asked:

okay but imagine Spencer helping paint the baby’s room for JJ and then painting S.R+D.M in a heart because hey he never had a teenage crush. He never got to be a stupid boy drooling over the football players they were too old and gross and mean honestly But not Derek and now he has a teenage crush so let him be stupid dammit. And then imagine Derek walking in and seeing it and laughing but not meaning to and then feeling the same way and kissing Reid even though he is covered in paint and sweaty

“You’re a lifesaver Spence,” JJ thanked once again, walking into the nursery with a large glass of water.

“Oh, it’s really my pleasure. I mean, what’s a godfather for right?” Reid smiled as he took the dripping cup from her hands. He gulped down half of the drink before finishing with an audible ‘ah.’

“Well, Will and I are going to pick up some other baby things at the store before Henry here decides to pop, which should be any day now really. You gonna be okay for a while?”

“Yup. I got 10.43/17ths of this wall to cover with primer and then two more color coats to do, so I’ll probably be here when you get back,” Reid explained, waving his paint roller around and dropping little spots of paint around the tarp under their feet. JJ stood smiling at him. It sometimes astounded her just how much her coworkers actually felt like her real family. Reid tucked a loose, sweaty, strand of hair behind his ear and simply smiled back.

“Alright, I’ll see you then. Call me if you need anything while we’re out. Thanks again,” JJ felt the need to reiterate, waddling a little closer to give Reid a hug over her belly. Reid returned the gesture, something he was finally comfortable doing with the other members of the team. He then laughed as he watched her slowly turn around and shuffle her way out of the room, muttering something under her breath about wanting her body back already.

Reid refocused his energy on the task at hand. He spun the roller around in the paint tray, coating the foam completely before swinging the tool over to the spot on the wall he had yet to cover. The gray base smoothly gripped the surface as Reid continuously repeated the up and down motion Will had showed him how to perfect. It wasn’t long before there was no longer any white to be seen, the room slathered in the lifeless, silvery tone.

Reid couldn’t start putting the actual color on until the entirety of the walls were dry, so he ended up sitting down on the small chair in the corner, a small paintbrush he had found lying on the floor twirling between his fingers. The mindless motion allowed Reid’s thoughts to drift and daydream to places that seemed more vivid than they should’ve. It was all too easy to zone out and feel Morgan’s hand ruffle his hair as he walked by. His chest expanded with butterflies imagining the way Morgan flashed his dazzling smile; or when the hint of a grin would tug at the crook of his mouth whenever Reid would correct someone. And god, that thing he did when he looked down at the ground and back up suddenly like he knew just what Reid was thinking. The already sweaty boy let out a breath, shaking his head and chocking the overly lucid fantasies up to the paint fumes in the poorly ventilated space.

Reasoning that the primer was probably dry at this point, and desperately needing to do something now, Reid went to crack open the baby blue pastel color can that little Henry’s walls would soon be adorning. He stuck the paintbrush in his back pocket and went to retrieve the roller. The chemical smell of the paint once again invaded the room as he slapped the much cheerier pigment onto the walls. He wasn’t painting for long when he had to set the roller down, not realizing just how exhausted he had been from doing the primer.

He stared at a still mostly grey wall longingly. Still partially lost in his reverie, he retrieved the paintbrush and dipped the tip of  it in the paint. A smile forced itself onto his face as he carefully drew a large heart across the wall, extending the edges so wide he had to get up on his tippy toes to successfully reach all the way. His own version of a tree carving spread itself out against the surface as he filled in the shape with the characters “S.R. + D.M.”.

He felt kind of silly when he stepped back to look at it, but hey he never got to have a teenage crush. Granted, he wasn’t necessarily a teenager anymore, but he didn’t really get to be one either. High school had been its own nightmare. His ten to twelve year old self never got to be a normal kid drooling over the football players. They were all too big and old and dumb and gross. And sure, maybe Derek Morgan wasn’t the most appropriate crush to have, but he wasn’t going to yet again deny himself of feeling like somebody who actually belonged, and felt things that normal, human people felt. He was just going to paint over it with the same color anyway, so it didn’t really matter. It was his own little secret thing. No harm, no foul.

“I get a whole wall? Wow Reid, I feel quite special.”

Reid was snapped out of the pleasant fantasia in an instant, feeling frozen in his spot. He didn’t dare turn around to face the voice that he could’ve recognized from about a million miles away, never mind the complete inaccuracy of the expression. This had to be some sort of fume induced dream because there was no way Morgan was actually standing behind him and looking at the approximately four by seven foot cartoon that was practically professing Reid’s stupid emotions like a giant, unwanted speech bubble.

“I mean, I’d say it’s a tad much for a newborn’s room, but I’m assuming you were gonna paint over it,” Morgan spoke again. Reid forced himself to see the horrifying truth, in that Morgan really was standing right behind him. He obsessively began tucking his hair behind his right ear, the other hand gripping the back of his neck and scratching along it nervously. He couldn’t seem to focus his eyes in a certain place, the only general vicinity being the ground.

Morgan looked as cool and collected as ever, maybe even a little amused. No scratch that, definitely amused. Reid honestly couldn’t think of a single goddamn thing to say, so he went with a diversion of subject.

“What are you doing here?” he inquired, attempting to sound casual. His voice ended up coming out shaky and he knew it, but at least the job of word provider had now been tossed back to Morgan.

“JJ called me on her way out. Said you could probably use some help if I wasn’t too busy doing anything else.”

“Oh. Cool,” Reid responded meekly.

Although his back was toward the mural, he could practically feel it glowing up behind him in the silence that followed. Morgan’s entertained eyes kept flicking from Reid’s face to the wall. Reid was almost surprised the neither one of them had run out screaming yet. The elephant in the room was pretty much prancing around in a tutu on fire though and Reid finally couldn’t stand not addressing it.

“Ok, so maybe I have a crush on you. It’s no big deal,” he tried to play off the situation nonchalantly, grabbing the roller from its leaning position and going to resume his non-sappy painting related activities. It was probably quite idiotic to think that Morgan would let him glaze over the situation like that.

“I’ve managed to capture the heart of the good doctor? I’m impressed. Tell me, was it my charming personality? Or perhaps my dashing good looks?” Morgan joked, walking across the room so he was once again in Reid’s sights.

The embarrassed man continued to move the roller up and down the wall, attempting to ignore the comments. Morgan’s increasing lack of personal space consideration was gradually making the task harder however. Reid remained focused, almost like he was trying to prove that Morgan couldn’t control him like he’d probably like to think he could.

“I’m kidding kid,” Morgan admitted with a laugh when Reid refused to acknowledge his presence.

It wasn’t that Reid was even really annoyed at Morgan like he was pretending to be. He was humiliated if anything. Still the two feelings seemed to show themselves in the same way. Reid had yet to say a word since his confession and he wasn’t sure he could if he wanted to. The repetitive motion of painting had managed to calm Reid to an extent. Recognizing this, Morgan saw his way to get Reid’s attention. Moving to the left of Reid, Morgan lifted his arms and placed two big hands on a spot that had just been painted over. Turning his head to meet Morgan’s, Reid finally gave in.

“Come on I just painted-” he began, but the complaint was speedily interrupted when Morgan’s hands changed their position from the wall to both sides of Reid’s face, pulling the stubborn man in for the most unexpected kiss he’d ever received.

The paint stuck to Reid’s burning cheeks as the butterflies in his sternum tried to force themselves out through his crazily beating heart. Morgan smelled of cologne and chemical fumes, all of which were making Reid rather dizzy. Thankfully the firm hands cupping his face were doing a good job of keeping him on his feet. Morgan’s lips had to be the softest things in existence, and Reid couldn’t help himself as pressed his own harder against them.

He felt Morgan smile slightly at the reaction, moving his arm to wrap around Reid’s lower back before swiftly shifting the smaller man’s body so that it was pressed up to the freshly painted wall. Reid was about to protest, feeling the goopy mess cling onto his hair and clothes, when Morgan did something with his tongue that rendered any argumentative statements Reid could formulate utterly useless. He felt himself involuntarily sighing into Morgan’s mouth, which only made Morgan’s grip tighten with satisfaction. He emitted a sort of growl when he felt the velvet of Reid’s tongue against his own and couldn’t help but pin the other man against the wall harder so that they were flush together.

Never in a million years did Reid think that this would be happening. The possibility of his silly little crush actually panning out seemed so improbable, considering it never had before. He almost didn’t know how to handle himself, instead letting Morgan guide the situation and take it as far as he thought appropriate. Well technically, none of this was “appropriate,” but Morgan was the one with the unrevealed feelings so Reid thought it best to just go with his flow and give up control.  

It wasn’t long before the combination of twisted tongues and the warmth of Reid’s thin body against him had Morgan’s pants getting uncomfortably tight. He felt Reid’s own obvious arousal against his hip and Morgan couldn’t help but marvel at the gentle sounds that were continuously escaping Reid’s plush lips.

“Jesus, kid,” Morgan mumbled against the soft, pale skin of Reid’s neck. “You’re killin’ me.”

Reid’s throat was closed up so he let his involuntarily bucking hips do the talking. Eventually he was able to form a quiet, “Derek,”, voice husky. The sudden change of tone sent Morgan’s self control further toward a quickly forming downward spiral.

“Oh, so I’m ‘Derek’ now?” he teased in an attempt to not lose it right then and there.

Reid’s face flushed and he swallowed, clearly too embarrassed to say anything else that was on his busy mind. Morgan smirked and slipped a hand under Reid’s shirt, chuckling when the genius seemed torn between letting out a moan or sucking in a nervous breath.

“Please, I–Morgan,” Reid breathed, squirming underneath the warm touch.

“Little impatient are we?” Morgan asked, leaving a trail of agonizingly slow kisses down Reid’s porcelain neck while continuing to run his fingers lightly across Reid’s torso. The helpless man made a frustrated sound and once again desperately pressed his slender hips against Morgan’s. Morgan swore he’d never been so turned on in his entire life. This was like all of his wet dreams coming to life. He knew when he walked in and saw the painting on the wall that there was no better opportunity to do what he’s been wanting to do for over a year now. What he really wanted, however, was to make Spencer get on his hands and knees and fuck his freakishly-intelligent brains out. Assuming that the younger man probably wasn’t that sexually experienced though, Morgan decided to keep it a little simpler for now.

He cupped his hand over Reid’s clothed bulge, squeezing gently and eliciting what had to be the hottest whine to ever be heard by human ears. Morgan had always imagined that Reid would be a noisy lover and his was very glad to know that his fantasies lined up with reality.

“You like that, Pretty Boy?”

Reid nodded and Morgan pulled farther away for a moment to just take in his beauty. His pale cheeks were flushed, slightly pink, and his already-plump lips were swollen from their makeout session. Reid shyly looked at the ground, a small smile touching the corners of his mouth as Morgan examined him. Morgan wanted more than anything to see what Reid looked like as he came. He wanted, practically needed, to see Reid fall apart in his arms.

He unzipped the already trembling man’s fly slowly, beginning to gently rub him through his boxers. Morgan could feel the outline of Reid’s cock and he groaned, nibbling on Reid’s bottom lip with his teeth. Reid gasped audibly when Morgan finally took the leap of slipping his hand under the fabric and grabbing his cock. Reid shuddered as Morgan began moving his hand up and down at a painfully slow pace, jacking Reid off just as he would to do himself. He traced his thumb around the tip, barely touching it, yet still making Reid a complete mess underneath him, just like he wanted. Reid found himself feebly writhing with each tender stroke of Morgan’s hand. Without warning, Morgan suddenly sped up the pace and Reid’s breathing instantly quickened in unison. He inadvertently fucked into Morgan’s fist and looked up at him with glossy eyes, almost as if he was in another world.

Reasonably, Reid didn’t last very long. After all, who would upon having one of their most longed for daydreams fulfilled? It only took a few more quick strokes and Reid was coming with bucking hips and pleasure coursing through him. He bit his lips to keep from making any more loud noises as he tensed and shook under Morgan, gripping onto his muscular forearms for what felt like dear life as he rode out the feeling. Morgan was patient, continuing to move his hand up and down until Reid was truly finished and had left a sticky coat all over his fingers.

Reid slumped against the wall when Morgan loosened his grip on his hips, breathing heavily as he did so. Morgan was painfully hard in jeans but didn’t expect or want Reid to do anything about it. Not now. Not here.

“Fuck,” Morgan panted, capturing Reid’s lips in another passionate kiss. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Yeah, and covered in paint,” Reid grumbled, leaning his head forward slightly to fidget with the already hardened dry chunks of his hair. “I’m gonna have to do this whole wall again.” Morgan couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the current event Reid had decided to focus on.

“I’ll help you don’t worry. You should probably put your dick away before we get to it though.”

“Shut up,” Reid chuckled, smacking Morgan’s arm before reaching his hands in between their still close proximity to reacquaint his junk with the inside of his pants/boxers. “You know,” he began whilst buttoning up his jeans, “When paint dries the solvent evaporates away, leaving behind the pigment and oil binding medium. This oil then hardens to form a continuous layer of dry paint and is often the reason why, shit-” Reid practically shouted as he interrupted himself and pushed Morgan’s body away from his.

The slightly confused man turned around to see an even more bamboozled looking JJ standing in the doorway of the nursery. Morgan laughed, not only at JJ’s reaction but Reid’s as well. He was shakily tucking his shirt back into his jeans, giving Morgan a worried glance and pretty much refusing to meet eyes with JJ. Morgan opened his mouth to try to explain, but JJ held up her hand. The room remained silent as she looked around, rubbing her belly in contemplation before finally revealing her one true concern.

“You guys are going to paint over that right?” she asked, pointing toward the big heart and the space next to it where Reid’s back had smudged the color.

“Yes ma'am,” Morgan jokingly saluted her. Reid meekly stood beside him and nodded furiously.

“Good,” JJ replied seeming satisfied and turning on her heel to leave the room. “Oh and Reid,” she suddenly paused on her way out, turning back around to face the two. “You’ve got a little something, uh, there,” she said with the hint of a laugh as she gestured to the general locality of his face.

Reid instinctively reached a hand up to feel the slightly flaked pieces of dried paint sticking to his cheeks. He looked over Morgan’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of himself in one of the window’s reflection and couldn’t help but chuckle at the two giant, baby blue handprints that covered both sides of his face. At least the paint was masking how badly he was blushing.

“S-sorry,” he managed to stammer out, wringing his hands with embarrased nerves.

“It’s not my problem. You’re the one who’s gonna have to scrub that shit off later. And by later I mean after you guys are done which should be much sooner now that there’s two of you, right?”

“Of course,” Morgan answered with a beaming smile. JJ rolled her eyes in amusement, finally exiting the room and leaving the two men alone.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Reid let out an exasperated breath.

“Oh believe it baby,” Morgan grinned, wrapping an arm back around Reid’s waist and pulling him close again.

“Oh, so I’m baby now?” Reid asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Only if you wanna be.”

“Won’t Garcia be jealous?”

“Eh, she’ll get over it,” Morgan assured him.

“I hope so. Because I,” Reid paused, leaning in to connect their lips with a gentle and lingering kiss, “could definitely get used to this.”