i made one just like this one but it got lost when i left

First Kisses

Their first kiss wasn’t spectacular. No one stood in the background, waiting to light off fireworks while hordes of people cheered and applauded. There was no performance at all, really.

The fact of the matter is that their first kiss was on a Tuesday night, and Draco was making Harry stay up with him to study for a Defense Against the Dark Arts exam they had the next morning. They were the only ones in the common room. But Harry looked at the clock and realized it wasn’t Tuesday night anymore, it was actually Wednesday morning, and somehow during their studying they’d slumped over onto each other, eyelids weighed down with sleep. The fire had all but burned out, the glowing coals casting a dim orange light across the two boys on the overstuffed sofa…

It wasn’t spectacular. They just sort of… fell together, I suppose, melting into each other, and Harry wasn’t sure where his mouth ended and Draco’s began anymore. He kept falling. Harry hoped he’d never hit the ground.


Their first kiss was in the rain after Harry and Draco were both shit-faced drunk, stumbling out of the bar while still swaying in time to the pumping music inside. Harry’s glasses were askew, and his cheeks were flushed, and god, his pupils were so dilated… Draco had intended on mapping out every corner of Harry’s face so he could remember it later when he went home alone like usual, but when he straightened Harry’s glasses for him, his hands lingered against his cheeks, thumbs tracing Harry’s lips. Their foreheads pressed together. He could feel Harry’s breath against his mouth and when he finally closed the remaining space between them, Harry’s wand shot out sparks and singed Draco’s coat. If you weren’t looking closely as you walked past them in the dark, you’d think it was one cloaked figure, standing very still outside the crowded bar.

Draco didn’t go home alone ever again after that night.


Their first kiss was in the eighth-year common room, surrounded by friends who had all had far too much firewhiskey to drink. It was Harry’s turn, and his face was already beet red. He wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or from what was about to happen, but he wasn’t sure that mattered right now. He spun the bottle as hard as it would go. Sweat was beading on his forehead, and the bottle just kept going… There was no way there wasn’t magic involved in how long it took it to stop spinning. Maybe he was so drunk, it had stopped spinning hours ago and he just hadn’t noticed.

The room went silent.

Harry was particularly aware of the fact that there was a floor beneath him, and something else underneath, and he felt entirely too heavy to hold up. He looked at who the bottle pointed towards and wished the floorboards would give way to send him plummeting into whatever room was beneath them.

And Ron was assuring him that no, if he really didn’t want to, he didn’t have to do it, but Pansy started chanting “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” and made everyone else join in. Hell, even Hermione was pumping her fists and chanting, and all of the blood in Harry’s body rushed to his head. He was most definitely a deep shade of scarlet now.

He looked up from his lap, though, and inches in front of him was the one person he never thought he’d touch in a way that wasn’t with malintent, and his eyes were already closed.

Draco tasted like peppermint and booze. The first time, at least.


Their first kiss was full of fire and anger and sweat, and they were seventeen. There was no one left in the showers after Slytherin lost another Quidditch match to Gryffindor, and Draco was convinced Harry had cheated. He’d almost had the snitch. He could have beat him for the first time in his life. Draco punched first, hitting the hard brick wall and bloodying his knuckles when Harry ducked out of the way. Harry’s face was covered in dirt and neither of them had much in the way of a hairstyle after playing out in a rainstorm for several hours. But Draco couldn’t think about Harry’s unkempt hair or muddy face right now, because somehow Harry had pinned him up against the wall, breathing hard and muttering something about how Draco should think very hard about what he did next…

Harry had hickeys landscaped across his chest for days.


Their first kiss was confusing for both of them. Of course Snape had paired them together for potions again, and Harry was prepared to sit back and let Draco do all the work again, but they were being watched so Draco thrust into Harry’s arms some things to chop up that had nothing to do with what they were brewing. Harry was getting a Dreadful in this class and he wasn’t sure how he was going to finish school if he flunked out.

“I’ll help you,” Draco mumbled, and Harry became aware that he had somehow managed to say all of this out loud.

“You’ll what?” asked Harry, dumbfounded.

“I said I’ll help you, you git,” Draco sneered, “McGonagall wants me to do something for the less fortunate because it might help me get a job when we get out of here.”

So Harry agreed, and for two hours on Saturday nights Harry and Draco had a scheduled slot of time to argue study. They’d never spent time alone together though, at least not for this long, and Harry began to notice little things about Draco. Like how when Draco was thinking hard about something, he flossed his hands through his hair, pulling it all off of his forehead and accentuating his widow’s peak. He looked like a blond vampire like that. It was a good look on him.

“What did you just say?” questioned Draco, one eyebrow raised. Harry had thought out loud again. Shit. He tried to think of something to cover up what he’d just said, but it was all out in the open now. He couldn’t backtrack on something like that. Draco looked beyond pleased with himself, and Harry felt his jaw clench. That git.

God, Draco got under his skin, but here, in the empty potions classroom, alone, he looked…

God.

He got under his skin so much that skin was all Harry could think about now. Draco’s skin. It was softer than he’d ever imagined. And his lips were another story.


And that’s what I love about fanfiction. The fact that we can write into existence hundreds of first kiss, each one unique in it’s own way, but each one dripping with more magic than anything you can cast with your wand. Each one the jumping off point for an infinite universe of stories, love, heartbreak, and laughter. So here’s to beginnings. Here’s to more first kisses.


Thank you @parkkate for reminding me of the post I made a few months ago that fell along this line! I figured I’d have at it once again like I did with the other post I made yesterday since I don’t really remember anything I wrote last time! 

Don’t Freak

Originally posted by kings-of-my-heart

Steve Harrington x Reader

Requests are OPEN

PART II | PART III | PART IV | PART V

PART I


“You’re really trying to tell me that Low is David Bowie’s best album to date?” Jonathan nodded, opening the brown paper bag that held his lunch.

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Y/N’s eyes widened, then shoved her lunch tray to the side. She leaned on her elbows, her hands in front of her.

“I could name five other Bowie albums, easily, that blow Low out of the water,” Jonathan took a bite of his sandwich, then motioned to Y/N.

“Go on then,”

Station to Station,” Y/N’s right index finger began to point to the fingers on her left hand to count. “Aladdin Sane, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars -obviously-, Diamond Dogs, and my number one favorite Bowie album of all time,” Jonathan mimed exactly what Y/N was saying with her, “Hunky Dory.” Y/N took a deep breath as she finished, then shoved a french fry in her mouth. “It’s like I don’t even know you sometimes,” She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders jokingly, “But, I mean, Low is still a great album,” That made Jonathan chuckle. A body suddenly appeared on the bench next to Y/N, scaring the life out of her. She had one hand on her mouth and the other over her heart to stop herself from screaming. Y/N turned her head and saw Steve Harrington with a dumb grin on his face.

“Tonight?” He looked at Y/N expectantly.

“What?” Her pupils were still wide from the shock, and the word sounded pretty dumb coming from her.

Keep reading

[All of this happened because I wanted to write something about Stiles not being able to sleep without his pillow. Spoiler alert: his pillow is Derek.]

-

Derek tries not to look too hurt when Stiles says he’s going back to Washington, but when the Sheriff claps his back and Scott offers him a friendly hug, he knows he failed. But after everything, after the other night - it just doesn’t feel fair.

-

“It was a nice road trip, wasn’t it?” Stiles had said after they’ve won, after everything was done, their friends were alive and fine and Derek finally got his loft back. “I mean, we had some fun, right?”

Derek smiled without looking away from the flowers the Sheriff got him as a housewarming gift. “Yeah.” He answered, finally turning around. “It was nice to spend time with you.” It was more than nice and he cursed himself for not being able to say it, still, after everything, after the nights spent driving and talking and fucking in deserted roads.

“Yeah.” Stiles agreed easily. He was the one who started it after all, always showing up to save Derek - despite Derek saving him back plenty of times - always being there, trusting him, smiling and laughing like Derek makes him happy. “What will you do now that you’re a free man again?”

Derek shrugged. “I always wanted to start a farm, maybe raise some sheep?” When Stiles blinked at him, surprised, Derek let out a snort.

“Fuck you, I almost believed it!” Stiles said, punching his shoulder.

“You’re ridiculous.” Derek shook his head, still smiling. 

You’re ridiculous.” Stiles stressed, his hand still on Derek’s shoulder, touching, teasing. “I’m -“ Derek didn’t let him finish then, turning around and just pressing their lips together.

He didn’t want to listen then - and in hindsight maybe he should’ve - but without the haste, the guilt of having a nice time whilst their friends could be dying, Derek couldn’t wait, he just wanted to worship Stiles’ body, just wanted to kiss all the places he couldn’t reach before when they were squeezed in the backseat of Stiles’ car. 

And so he did, he made Stiles moan his name the entire night and he moaned Stiles’ own just as louder. Just to have his heart crushed the morning after.

-

“I’m gonna miss you.” Stiles says, his Jeep packed and ready to go. To leave everything behind.

It’s unfair, Derek knows. Stiles didn’t make promises and neither did he, but he can’t help how he feels. He understands Stiles doesn’t want to be in Beacon Hills anymore and that’s his choice, but Derek made his own and he’s tired of running away.

He’s never felt closer to his family than when he’s here, he’s already lost enough and he doesn’t want to lose his home. But somehow, as Stiles drives away, he feels like he just did.

-

I miss you, Derek thinks every day, staring at the black screen of his phone and wondering if he should actually write those words and send them to Stiles. He decides against it and despite the fact he was joking before, on the third day after Stiles left, Derek buys a farm.

He tells Lydia first during lunch at her favorite restaurant - she was adamant they had to become best friends and Derek enjoys her company so he lets it happen easily - and she tells him he’s not allowed to wear plaid around her. Then he tells Scott and two days later, he shows up at Derek’s front door with all kinds of seeds - “We need pumpkins for Halloween, Derek. Make it happen!”.

It’s something to do with his hands, something to work on. Create life, instead of ending them, build things, instead of destroying. He feels good, better and healing. Cora says he’s calmer now and Derek smiles, despite knowing she won’t be able to see him, and tells her he is.

Some days Stiles texts him, others he doesn’t. Derek reads the ones he has every night before going to bed, but he never answers them.

Keep reading

Eight Months.

Even eight months after the break up, Harry still felt the overwhelming urge to check up on you and your life. He would check your social media accounts a few times a week, more so before going to bed when thoughts of you plagued his mind. It felt naughty, wrong in a way; after all, it was him who ended your two year relationship.

*

“It’s never going to change, Harry! Things will always be the same! You ‘forgot’ my birthday and you spent the day with Kendall. You ‘forgot’ our date night and you spent the evening with Cara. I know it’s what the media want and expect from you, and I know management want you to do this, but I think you want to as well” you sigh, the words you had held for so long in your mouth now finally spilling out.

“You’re joking, right? That was a joke? You seriously think I want to spend any spare time I have with Kendall or Cara over you? Management need me to do this, if I don’t, I can kiss goodbye to my pay cheque! Half the things I do in this job is for you! How the fuck else would you get the latest handbags and purses and shoes?! Who else is going to pay for your education? Because I don’t see you or your family offering to cough up!” he spits almost bitterly.

You gasp in shock at his words. He knew your financial situation at home and that your parent’s worked so bloody hard to provide for you, but it just wasn’t enough. Your future career depended on your qualifications, and those qualifications could only be acquired in higher education in which Harry had offered to pay for, before he knew anything about the money side of things.

“Really, Harry? That’s how you feel? You think I’m with you for the money? I don’t give a damn about the shoes or bags and purses or latest fashion trends. I love you because you’re my boyfriend and I see myself living the rest of my life with you. I don’t love you because you’re Harry Styles from One Direction!” you spit back, your words truthful.

“I’ve heard that one before” he tells you, his eyes averting to the floor.

“So now you’ve got trust issues with me? Other girls may have treated you like that in the past, but I’m not like other girls, Harry. Two years we’ve been together and you really think that of me? When you guys broke up as a band, and you didn’t know what was going to happen to your music career, who was the one sitting up with you every night holding you whilst you cried? Other girls would have run a mile because of the uncertainty of your future. I love you even if you have nothing!” you shout at him.

Harry shrugs his shoulders and bites his lip. “Look, it’s not even just this causing arguments. They’ve been going on for a while and maybe having Kendall and Cara as friends is something you can’t handle. But I can’t live my life like this anymore. I’m done arguing with you all the time” he tells you softly.

“You’re making it sound like I don’t want you having friends, which isn’t true. I want you to put me first, like you did at the start of our relationship. You would have done anything back then for me, Harry. I hate arguing with you too. Maybe if we arrange some sort of schedule and arrange dates in advance to see each other?” you suggest.

Harry shakes his head. “I think it’s too little too late, (Y/N).”

You frown, your bottom lip beginning to quiver as you ask the dreaded question. “Are you breaking up with me.”

Harry’s eyes avert to the floor once more and the silence between you both speaks more volumes than words ever could.

*

Your Instagram account had been almost inactive for the first month after the break up, with only the occasional bog-standard photos of new make-up purchases and Starbucks coffee. But no selfies and nothing that indicated any happiness in your life. After three months, your social media accounts portrayed some happiness returning to your life as you took selfies with friends on regular nights out, but Harry knew as well as anyone that social media is one massive cover up for reality. Were you really actually happy? Were you living or were you just alive?

It seemed to him that your life continued to appear happy, but after four months of opening the app, he noticed someone by your side. Photograph after photograph, upload after upload, this person would be stood next to you. You had a side when taking photos with Harry, but now somebody else was standing on Harry’s side, taking his place, standing where he should be standing. Then tagging each other on Twitter began taking place. Simple things such as “coffee dates” and memes.

Five months after the messy break up, Harry sighted a picture of the two of you kissing; you and your new beau, as it was publicised. Your lips on his, no doubt his tongue down your throat and he wanted to vomit. It didn’t make social media, but it made the headlines in the news. The media had left you alone a little while after the break up, but of course, a new relationship for you meant gossip amongst the public, especially One Direction fans and Harry girls, and the tabloids couldn’t resist the opportunity.

Upon reaching seven months, Harry noticed another change in you on social media. You were becoming more and more inactive by the day, rarely replying to tweets and the amount of photographs posted reduced. Anybody else would put it down to business in studying and spending time with loved ones, but Harry knew how much you had loved your interactions on social media, and something didn’t sit quite right with him. But then he remembered that he’s not yours and you’re not his, and you have someone else taking care of you now.

*

Eight months later, and Harry still had you on his mind almost every minute of the day. He would awake in the morning with the help of his alarm but your hair wasn’t sprawled across the pillows as he would expect; he no longer bothered eating breakfast in the mornings; gone are the days when he used keep something warm on the stove for you, for when you awoke, ensuring you had something warm for your hungry tummy in the mornings; he had nobody to send a morning text to. His routine was completely out of sync and nothing over the last few months made it any better.

He would come home every evening to an empty apartment. He had nobody to cook dinner for. He had nobody to talk to about his day. He had nobody to snuggle up to at night. He had nobody to kiss. He had nobody to love and he had nobody to love him.

Some nights would be simple; Harry would climb into bed and flick on the television, watching a favourite film in which he no longer got pleasure out of. He’d check his social media, and then check yours, before setting his alarm and falling asleep, his dreams of you haunting him throughout the night.

Other nights, he’d yearn for you. He loved you, still loves you, and wants nothing more than to hold you whilst you sleep and keep you safe in his embrace. But he would yearn for you in other ways too, awakening in the night from happy dreams of you, his cock hard for you. He would lay awake between the sheets, grinding his hips into them and rubbing himself vigorously as he imagined being inside of you. He would let himself go completely when he could imagine the moans that would leave your lips, the breathlessness you would encounter, and it was as though he could almost feel you come around him.

He hadn’t been in another relationship since the split, but there had been a couple of one night stands. In a way to get over you, ironically, he would fuck others that had similar traits to you. The same hair colour, the same laugh, the same smile. But neither of those girls were you. He didn’t really want them, they just happened along with the alcohol consumption of both parties involved. After two girls, he stopped. He wasn’t sure if it was the reality of the situation that made him stop, or if it was the slap he received one night.

*

The music was pounding against the speaker, the DJ’s were screaming out and giving shoutouts, mostly for people’s birthday’s and other celebrations, bartenders were leaning over the bar in an attempt to actually hear what the customers were ordering in the club, and everyone was like sardines, squashed together, but everyone seemed to be enjoying it and having a good time. Everyone except Harry.

He occasionally moved around and shuffled his feet in an attempt to dance, but he felt so lost without you there. He kept an eye out to see if you were around, almost forgetting that you didn’t go there together. He always used to keep an eye on you, making sure you were safe on the dance floor and that no drunken men took advantage of you. He was your protector. 

“What’s your name?” a young blonde asked. That was the only thing that was same about the two of you. You’re blonde and so was she. But she wasn’t you. Harry wasn’t too sure if she was just acting oblivious to the fact that he was the most famous, most well-known person in the club, or whether she was just so drunk that she barely knew her own name, let alone his.

“Harry” he told her, placing his hand on the small of her back and pulling her closer so as they could hear each other’s spoken words over the thumping music.

The girl nods. “Louise” she tells him. “Fancy getting out of here?” she asks. 

Harry nods. He realises she’s not as drunk as he thought she was, but taking in her features, she looked a few years older than him. Maybe she really didn’t know who he was.

“Mine or yours?” she asks as they stumble out of the nightclub and onto the streets of London. Louise quickly hails a taxi as Harry replies, “yours.”

Whilst his own place seemed more appealing as he wouldn’t have the awkward ‘leaving after a shag’ stage, he didn’t want to take her, or anyone, to his bed. Only you got the privilege to be in his bed. He didn’t fuck anyone else in his bed, only you. He didn’t want anyone else to come in the sheets besides the two of you together and for each other.

The taxi ride back to hers was soon over and they stumbled through her apartment, his lips pressed to hers. Their eyes remained closed as he thought about you. Undressing you. Running his hands up and down your body and caressing your breasts as you laid all bare for him, for his eyes only.

Harry breathlessly pulls aways as he lifts up the miniskirt. They both quickly realise this is nothing more than sex up against the wall. She’s not taking him to bed either, and Harry wonders if Louise is also getting over someone. Within the next thought, he doesn’t care. He does’t love Louise. He loves (Y/N).

The blonde grabs at his belt, unbuckling it and unzipping his trousers, his length exposed to her. He quickly reaches into his back pocket before letting his trousers drop and rips open the packaging. Covering himself with the latex, he soon pushes himself into her. She gasps, taking him in, before moving quickly against him.

They’ve both been drinking and he knows his performance will be affected greatly, so he’s not surprised when he quickly comes inside of her, moaning her name. She gasps and he withdraws from her quickly. Before even getting the chance to dress himself, her hand collides with his cheek.

“Louise! I told you my name is Louise!” she yells at him angrily.

And in that moment, he realises that he moaned your name when he came.

*

He arrived home from the studio and continued his evening rituals. No work the following day meant he could have a later night and whilst he was glad to be able to sleep in later and not have the demands of an alarm clock, he knew from experience that on a day off where he lacked a busy schedule, you would be on his mind more than ever.

The night passed with Harry doing nothing more than eating his evening meal and lounging around in front of the television, flicking through channels to find something to entertain him for a few hours. He occasionally reached for the bottle of whiskey, pouring himself small measures each time. Whilst the drinking had become a regular habit a few months back, Harry had realised that drowning his problems with alcohol helped nobody, not even himself, and he kicked the habit almost as quickly as it had started. No amount of alcohol got you out of his head.

The comedy shows provided some entertainment, and whilst there were a few forced laughs, Harry did find some of the jokes genuinely funny. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed properly.

Tapping his watch with a yawn, he checked the time. Flicking off the television set, he threw the remotes back on the sofa and picked his body up from the position he had been in for hours. A loud, repeated knock on the door made him jump slightly. The banging got harder and more frantic and he could only wonder who would be calling in on him at this hour. “Alright, I’m coming!” he yelled in frustration. Couldn’t his unwanted and unwelcome guest wait two minutes?!

Heading into the hallway, he unlocked the door, pouting his lips to express his emotion, making sure the person on the other side of it knew he was angry at the disturbance and the complete lack of respect for him and his property. As far as they were aware, he may well have had work the next morning. Swinging the door open,  he gasps, taking in the demeanour of the person standing in front of him, the sight almost killing him as bile rose in his stomach and a nauseous feeling took control of his body.

Mothers’ Weekend

Hello there! Long time, no see (my bad I know) but, here: an Alicia Zimmermann-centric piece as she goes to Parents’ Weekend during Jack’s freshmen year. [focus on Alicia, Jack, and Shitty] 6k


Somewhere, deep in her heart, Alicia Zimmermann knows she is a bad mother.

It started out as a worry, as maybe it does for all new mothers, that she will be a bad mother. That she won’t know what to do with a baby or a toddler that one day she will accidentally drop him or forget to feed him or feed him something he is actually allergic to or maybe she’ll scar him emotionally somehow and she worried but she survived his childhood okay. And then, after he was five or six, she stopped worrying about it. She thought she was doing pretty good. Jack had hockey and loved hockey and, sure, they didn’t have deep emotional talks but she didn’t exactly have any basis of comparison. Television families told her she was doing okay. No teenage boy wanted to have deep talks with his mother. And, look, if Jack didn’t talk to her all that much as he turned 12 and then 13, at least he was still talking to his father. Mostly still about hockey but she… she thought that had counted. Hockey was like French, to her. Another language she could understand but couldn’t quite speak. But Bob could. He was on top of it. Jack was taken care of.

She loved Jack. That was never the problem. The problem was that her love wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter. It didn’t alert her to any of the facts and maybe it even blinded her– She loved her son and her son loved hockey and so she loved hockey too. She loved her son and then her son seemed to love a boy named Kent and they never talked about it but she let Kent come over all the time and she figured they would discuss it at some point. She just… assumed everything was okay. Even after he was diagnosed with the anxiety disorder and given pills. It was always… well, that was a little problem but it’s handled and under control and everything is okay now.

See. Bad mother.

A good mother would have known somehow.

A good mother would have pushed and prodded or sensed it without even having to be told.

A good mother would have paid attention to how hard Jack was on himself. A good mother would have made sure her son had interests outside of hockey. A good mother would have known that Jack’s long silences after losses weren’t normal. A good mother would have preached balance and fostered friendships with different types of people and stopped the fucking hockey.

She didn’t though. Stop the hockey. No, not Alicia Zimmermann. She encouraged it. She went to the games and cheered the loudest and she even loved it a little bit because she thought it brought him joy, like his father. She bought into the vision: Jack playing hockey like Bob, the Zimmermann legacy continued throughout the ages…

God, she even used to tease Jack about how it took his father three years to win a Cup and she was sure Jack could manage it faster than his old man.

A good mother wouldn’t have done that. So, see, she’s always been a bad mother. Even now, now that she’s almost lost him, now that she’s promised to do better, now that she’s finally read all the books and online articles about anxiety and pressure and the danger of sports and hockey culture… now she’s still just as bad. Just for different reasons.

Now she is a bad mother because it’s Saturday afternoon and he’s been at Samwell for almost three months and she does not feel like mothers are supposed to feel in this moment.

She glances around. At the sea of other mothers and fathers crammed onto Samwell’s campus for Parents’ Weekend. They are not nervous. They are excited. Happy. Enthusiastic. Overjoyed to see the teenager they had left just a couple months ago again. To her right is a father almost (but not quite) breaking into a run to give his son a hug. To her left, a mother has burst into tears. Happy tears.

And then there’s her. She’s not excited to see Jack. Well, no. No, it’s not that she’s not excited. She is. She is. (She is. She repeats it once more just to remind herself). She is just…

She is nervous too. More nervous than she is excited.

Keep reading

On Allura and Keith.

Because not everyone notices his low self-worth.

I think we all noticed that the only person that even tried to talk to Keith in s4 and remind him of his importance to team Voltron was Allura. It then occurred to me that she was the only one on the team that suspects Keith greatly underestimates his own importance.

This is not to say that the others don’t care about Keith, but nobody else had any reason to believe that he felt this way. Shiro has paramount trust in Keith’s abilities, Lance thinks he’s got it made because he’s so talented, and Hunk and Pidge don’t even seem to know him all that well. 

But Allura was the one there with him in that pod in s2e6 when he talked about how the team needed Allura to pilot the castle ship while brushing off his own importance, and you can bet your life she noticed the stunned looked in his face when she implied the team needed him just as much. I believe it was then when she first realized that Keith’s opinion of himself is so low that he fails to see just how much she matters, even as a paladin.

From the look on Keith’s face, it was obvious that he’d never even stopped to consider it, and that’s something that the perceptive Allura didn’t miss.

She was also there later, s2ep12, when Keith volunteered himself to infiltrate the main galra ship to finish what Thace had started. You can see the shock and concern plainly on her face, especially considering how Kolivan had basically just called it a suicide mission. It affected her enough that she made the decision to approach him by the pods before he left. She took this moment not only to apologize to him for her unwarranted actions earlier but also to remind him that he was indeed cared for.

By this point, I think Allura realizes that Keith’s detachment does not stem from stoicism or lack of caring (she’s seen him care… she was the sole witness of Shiro and Keith’s hug in s2e9) but from his own lack of self-worth. This moment isn’t just about her getting over her personal issues and prejudice against the galra. It’s also about her trying to drive the point home that Keith is important to them, not just as a paladin or resource in this war, but as a person. 

And then we see this again in s4e1:

SHE IS THE ONLY ONE TO APPROACH HIM without the intention of scolding him. She probably didn’t know that Keith had almost died, but she did know that Keith lost a comrade. Just from the soft “thanks” that he manages after, you can tell that he hadn’t been expecting that kind of concern and I’m pretty sure she knew that and provided her support as best she could. 

She’s worried about the growing distance between him and the rest of the team and she tries to remind him that he’s important. The way she adds “WE cannot” at the end of her statement is deliberate. She wants him to understand that he matters to the team AS A PERSON, rather than just a resource. Sure, he’s important to the mission… but he’s more than that to them.

Keith seems to ponder over this, but the idea probably just seems too farfetched to him. The only person in his life that he thought for sure cared about him was Shiro and their relationship at this point in the series is so degraded that he just can’t fathom it. In his eyes, if Shiro doesn’t seem to care, why would anyone else? (This is not me saying Shiro doesn’t care, by the way. This is just how Keith probably sees it, especially after their last few encounters.) And of course, the distance keeps growing and Allura is the only one that seems visibly concerned and it breaks my heart.

After Keith confirms her worst suspicions.

And that’s when it fully hit her just how unworthy Keith considered himself of being the black paladin, the leader, and that HE WAS PLANNING ON LEAVING. She just looked like her heart dropped when it happened. But Keith’s made up his mind and Shiro gives him his blessing, so all she can do is support him and remind him again that they do care.

TLDR;

Allura was probably the only one aware of Keith’s low self-esteem since s2e6 and she tried her very best to make him see how far from the truth he really was, though Keith never realized this.

A side note, I think if Lotor hadn’t shown up at the end and stopped Keith from sacrificing himself for everyone else, she would have taken it the hardest because she knew exactly what would have been going on inside his head when he made his decision, and she couldn’t stop him.

Thanks to @australet789​ I just had an epiphany and I can’t believe I didn’t realize this sooner. 

It should go without saying but SPOILER ALERT

These are the main three topics I’m going to be discussing here:
  • Why Gabriel has the Butterfly and the Peacock Miraculous.
  • What happened to Mama Agreste
  • Why he wants the Cat/Ladybug Miraculous

It all comes back to the Temple of the Guardian’s Order. (or “The Miraculous Guardians” as Wayzz put it and yes I am loving that bit.)

Y’know, that place that was important enough for the show to give us multiple full-colored images of while getting some Fu backstory and important lore that manages to answer some questions and pose about 30000 more?

Yeah. That temple.

Keep reading

13.01 coda

YAY WE’RE BACK, EVERYONE!!! Did you miss me?? I missed you.

If you would like to be added to or taken off of the master tag list for the season 13 post-episode codas, please send me a message ASAP. Thanks, guys!

Anyway, this scene definitely should have been in the ep.

“Can he teleport?”

“What?”

“The kid!” Dean snaps. “Does he have wings?”

Sam stutters out that he doesn’t know, and, right. How would he? Dean wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and it comes away bloody - his lip stings where he’s touched it.

He closes his eyes and takes a slow breath in through his nose. He’s trying his absolute hardest to keep it together, but his hands shake regardless.

“We can check along the main roads,” Sam placates, mistaking his silence for frustration. “We’ll be faster in the car than he is on foot, assuming he doesn’t fly, and he can’t have gotten far.”

Dean opens his eyes, but he doesn’t reply. He keeps his back to his brother.

“It’s going to be ok, Dean,” Sam says, only a few feet behind him now, and damn it if that just doesn’t break Dean’s heart all over again.

Soon enough he hears the dirt start to crunch under Sam’s shoes. He has to swerve around Dean to get to the passenger side, his usual post in times of crisis, but Dean lets out a sigh just as he gets his hand on the door.

“Wait.”

Sam turns back to look at him, eyebrows raised expectantly.

Dean swallows. “I need you to help me with something first.”

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200 Reasons To Love Jikook

1) When Jimin made Jungkook comfortable on the couch by bringing him a pillow and a blanket. He tucked him in and they fell asleep together in the living room. (BV s1).

2) When Jimin said that Jungkook is the member he would like to travel with because he would protect him from others. (Fanaccount).

3) Jimin using every cute variation of Jungkook’s name in his tags - kook, kookoo, kookie.

4) Jimin using the paw emoji after Jungkook’s name, the same emoji he used in his calico cat tweet. (JM’s twt).

5) Jimin serenading Jungkook with his part in Boy In Luv, “can’t get you out of my head.”

6) When Jungkook pinched Jimin’s nipple when Jimin leaned in for a hug and also the time Jungkook pinched Jimin’s neck to get him to move over. (Fancafe content & Bangtan Bomb).(Extra)

7) When Jungkook lifted Jimin bridal style to clear the limbo game and their faces were this close.

8) When Jimin had a nip slip in the middle of a performance and Jungkook was the only one who noticed and asked him to cover up.

9) When Jungkook literally moaned ‘I want you’ to Jimin who was in the middle of a photoshoot times three. (Now 3)

10) When Jungkook scolded Namjoon off cam, “How can you call a person dirty?” after Joonie said that they can’t touch the trophy as Jimin had kissed it. (Bangtan Bomb)

11) When Jimin groped Jungkook during DNA rehearsal. (Fancam).

12) When Jimin repeatedly hit Jungkook with a rubber toy to get a reaction out of him while Jungkook was talking to a fan, only for Jungkook to snatch it out of his hand to hit him back. (Fancams).

13) When Jimin dressed up as a Bok Choy (Napa Cabbage) so that Jungkook (The bunny) could eat him. (His words not mine). (21st Century Girl Halloween vers.)

14) When Jimin said that his favourite solo after ‘Lie’ is ‘Begin’ (JK’s solo). (Fansign)

15) When Jimin asked Jungkook to ‘accept his love’, twice on Jungkook’s birthday. (Danger Chuseok Spl.).

16) When Jungkook went up to Jimin to ask what his plans for Valentine’s day were. (Bangtan Bomb).

17) When Jungkook got distracted by Jimin’s hip thrusts and turned the wrong way during I Like It Pt. 2 Choreo. (Fancam)

18) When Jungkook laid his head on Jimin’s thigh during Ma City even though Jin tried to make him get up. (Fancam).

19) The times Jungkook used Jimin’s arm as his pillow. (Prologue Bts & BV s2)

20) When Jungkook filmed Jimin’s dance even though his arms hurt from holding the camera for too long. (Bangtan Bomb).

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richie as things ive done

-maxed out my phone storage because i saved too many pictures of flags after deciding that i was going to text exclusively in semaphore

-walked up a 2-story railing because i was bored and then did it again because the first time my friend didnt get pictures

-crawled underneath a train because i dropped my flip flop

-spent too much money on thrift store knick knacks with cursed energy (puppets, garden gnomes, ceramic figurines, other peoples’ family photos, etc)

-spent too much money on awful thrift store clothes

-made a valiant attempt to bring silly bandz back

-ate over 100 rolls of smarties in a 48-hour period

-ignored the fact that i had the flu or something for a week. just genuinely did not realize until someone pointed it out

-locked myself in a school bathroom stall with my friends so i could draw sunglasses on her nipples with expo marker

-got in trouble for holding a baby doll like a real baby in english class

-filled said baby with chocolate milk and barbecue sauce “to feed it” and punted it across the bathroom

-bought my friend a custom life-sized body pillow of her fav actor for her birthday and hid it in her locker for a terrifying morning surprise

-bought a ball gag at goodwill

-gave a chemistry presentation to my entire class and forgot to remove the slide with a picture of a frog with a speech bubble that said “hnnng… i need… your spit”

-ate a lock of wig hair for a video that we were filming

-accidentally yelled “FUCK” in french class as soon as the room had gone silent

-kept loose cheese puffs in my desk drawer

-kept a dixie cup of chocolate chips in my desk drawer

-accidentally came into possession of 78 decorative gourds and didnt know where to put them so i left them in the top of my locker and they rotted

-got in trouble in sixth grade on valentines day for giving a boy a small potato instead of a paper valentine

-tried to wriggle my body through a saint patrick’s day wreath at a thrift store and got very, very, very stuck

-was the ringbearer for a wedding and said “oh, swag” on reflex when i dropped the rings

-challenged myself to write all my in-class essays so that they could be read to the tune of ‘two trucks’ and no one ever found out

-brought pot brownies to an anime convention

-stayed up for days on end until i was so tired that i fell asleep while writing an in-class essay and kept writing gibberish while fully asleep

-got an a in a class where i literally never turned in the homework

-changed my text tone to an audio recording of my best friend saying something embarrassing

-went through a phase where i would write several pages of notes on one page in different colors until it looked like just horrible scribbles “to save paper”

-bought parchment and a quill pen on amazon and used them to take notes

-had to leave a party early but i was eating fishsticks and i wasnt done so i put them all in my coat pocket

-kept loose dumplings in my hoodie pocket

-wore a fanny pack with a speaker in it and blasted ‘two trucks’ and also used the fanny pack to carry a bag of gummi worms and give them to people when they were upset that i called ‘emotional support worms’

-bought a whole-ass rocking horse and then took it home on the bus

-drank monster energy out of my parents’ wedding-gift wine glasses

-babysat some kids and helped them turn the entire first floor of their house into a fort for a brutal nerf gun war

-started a black market in third grade where the primary trade was colored pencils and cap erasers

-made direct eye contact with my teacher and said ‘because i am a dumbass’ when asked why i didnt have the homework

-went to a burger place where the workers yell out the order numbers and when they yelled “69!” muscle memory took over and i yelled back “NICE”

-tried to convince my friend to chug a glass of dairy free creamer until i got tired of waiting and grabbed it out of her hands and chugged it myself

-bought an animatronic bear at a thrift store and spent an hour trying to pry open the battery case to discover that it sings When I’m 64. like the whole song all the way through

-got lost in best buy for two hours and ended up leaving with a Dory backpack that was on sale

-kept a headless antique mannequin in my room at the foot of my bed to train myself out of feeling fear

-in fifth grade i attempted to physically fight another fifth grader over our minecraft fanfiction

-skipped swimming class for an entire trimester and somehow faced no repercussions

-stole a girl’s hair out of her hairbrush in fourth grade and used it for crafts

-pinned my friend to the floor and rubbed a gluestick on her face i don’t remember why

-got my friends to pool all our money at sky high so we could put cotton eyed joe into the jukebox as many times as possible

-started an uprising against our lunchtime therapist in fourth grade by convincing all of my friends to make warriors ocs with me instead of participating in the activities (this culminated in the four of us getting kicked out of lunchtime therapy)

-made my first friend in high school because she saw me secretly eating twizzlers out of my sleeve in english class

-found loose jelly beans in my school bag and ate them without question

love me, love me not (m)

Originally posted by mvssmedia

muses: taehyung x reader
genre: smut
type: soulmate au
word count: 1.4k


“Hey, love?” Taehyung stops, all movements and sounds coming to a halt.

There’s no helping the whine that falls out of your lips, hips rolling to get a move on if he verily insists on stopping dead in the middle of a good deed. To your dismay, however, a steel hand presses flat on your stomach, rendering you immobile as he whispers in your ears what he deems relevant enough to take five minutes of your time that could have taken you to reach an orgasm.

“If you met your soulmate on the street somewhere someday, could you do me a favor? Tell him sorry that I popped your cherry and fucked you a couple times after… for like a year.”

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English Assignment

Request: Can you do a imagine where the reader is a huge nerd and she’s Billy’s partner on a English project and well the both of them are at his place working she goes to his out to his car to grab a book she left in the backseat, passing his drunk dad on his way out of the house, and comes back to his room to see him crying and she knows because she’s been there (abused) and its just fluff of her comforting him and he wraps his arms around her frame holding on desperately and into cries her chest

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Warnings: Abuse, swearing, Billy’s asshole dad

Word Count: 1291

A/N: If anyone ever needs to talk please feel free to message me about anything. Thank you for the request. I have quite a few lined up to write over the next few days. Requests are open.

Prompt List

Masterlist

Originally posted by xananeedscoffee

English Literature was possibly Y/N’s favourite subject. She loved to read and write and was enthralled by the words which flowed on the page. Currently they were study Robert Louis Stevenson’s: The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. While it wasn’t one of her favourite books, Y/N loved the writing style and the narrative. Most of the class would disagree with her and would often call it boring or stupid. The only part of English that Y/N hated were the paired assignments. Teachers had a habit of pairing high achieving students with the kids who needed their grade to be pulled up somehow. While most of these kids were actually far from being dumb, they just lacked the motivation.

“Y/N L/N, you will be paired with Billy Hargrove.” The teacher read out and Y/N sighed.

She had never actually spoken to the newish boy but had heard all the gossip about him around school. A few girls at the back let out annoyed sighs as the teacher finished reading from the list and people began to get up to leave. Y/N took her time packing away; she was in no hurry to get to lunch.

“Hey.” Y/N looked up to find the source of the voice was her new English partner.

“Hey.” She replied as she finished packing away her books.

“I was wondering when you wanted to work on the project?” Billy asked with a small smile as he followed her out of the classroom. His voice was softer than the times she had heard him talking.

“Whenever is fine for you.” Y/N said with a small smile lifting the corners of her lips.

“You free tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, meet me outside after school and we can go to my place.” He smiled at her before walking off to meet his friends.

When the bell signalled the end of the day Y/N began to get really nervous. She packed up her biology books as quickly as she could and then made her way outside. Billy was already leaning up against the side of his Camaro with a cigarette between his lips. He dropped it, crushed it under the heel of his shoe and smiled as he saw her.

“Hey.” Y/N said as she walked over to him.

“Hey.” He smiled wider as he opened the door for her. She climbed in and he shut it for her. That was when Y/N noticed the younger redhead sat in the back.

“You must be Billy’s sister, I’m Y/N.”

“Step-sister. I’m Max.” The girl smiled. Billy climbed into the car and set off. “So, are you two…?” Max trailed off.

“Working on an English assignment.” Billy quickly shot back as Y/N started blushing. He shot a look over at her and smiled slightly as he put the radio on.

The rest of the drive was silent and they quickly reached the house. Y/N climbed out of the car and held the seat down for Max to climb out. The girl thanked her before quickly running inside the house. Y/N grabbed her backpack. She followed Billy up to the house and thanked him as he held the door open.

He showed her to his room. “You want anything to eat or drink?”

“Water please.” She smiled.

He left to get it and she surveyed his room. It was messy but not as much as she would have expected. There was a full ash tray on one of his sides and cologne and hair products on another. She perched herself on the edge of the bed before pulling out the assignment and her copy of Jekyll and Hyde.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” Billy said handing her the water as he came back into the room. The front door opened and then slammed shut and Y/N looked at him questionably. “It’s just my dad.”

They quickly set off working and Y/N was surprised with how much Billy actually contributed. They were making good progress but also talking about themselves in between. It actually turned out that the pair had quite a lot in common. Mainly their movie and music taste but they were becoming quick friends.

“Shit.” Y/N muttered looking through her bag.

“What?” Billy asked looking up at her from his position laying on the bed.

“I think my folder might have fallen out in your car.” Y/N explained.

“Here.” Billy smiled and threw her his keys. “Go look, I’ll finish this bit.”

She smiled back at him before quickly leaving to go to the car. She didn’t notice Billy’s dad sat in the living room as she walked past. The man quickly got to his feet and stumbled into his son’s room.

“You bringing your whores here now?” Neil Hargrove asked as his son shot of the bed.

“We’re doing an English assignment, sir.” Billy said.

In a flash Billy was pinned against his shelves; his father’s hands on his denim jackets sides. “You think I’m stupid.”

“Of course not.” Billy said before a fist connected with his cheek.

“Of course not, what?” Neil spat.

“Sir.” Billy muttered.

“That’s better.” Neil said before dropping Billy to the floor. Billy curled into himself.

Y/N passed Neil Hargrove in the hall and muttered a quick greeting that the man didn’t return. She walked into Billy’s room and dropped her folder to the floor as she saw Billy on the floor.

“Billy?” She muttered in shock.

“Shut the door and lock it.” Billy chocked out.

She did as he said before kneeling down in front of him on the floor. “Did… Did your dad…?” She stumbled over her words as she looked at the boy she had been laughing with minutes before, now crumbling on the floor.

Billy merely nodded. Like always the tears were beginning to run down his cheeks. Y/N moved closer to him and reached out her arms. He folded into her and buried his head in her chest; both his arms wrapped around her waist. She slid one arm around his back and threaded the other through his hair. She could feel his tears starting to dampen her shirt. She lost track of just how long they sat on the floor before he pulled away shakily.

“You should tell someone.” Y/N whispered.

“Like who? Who would actually care?” Billy chuckled humorously and brokenly.

“I would.” She murmured and his eyes shot up to meet hers. “You could tell Hopper.”

“I couldn’t.” He muttered before standing up and pulling her up with him. He started grabbing everything they had been using. “Let’s go someplace else.” He wiped a hand over his face as she helped him start to pick up books.

At the beginning of today, Billy Hargrove had been a stranger. Now she was determined to help him out of this living hell. 

You Absolute Dip -- Steve Harrington

Written by @rune-of-a-writer

Request: “can you do an imagine where steve has liked reader for a while but hasnt told her so, then when in his fight with billy she jumps on billys back to get him to stop hitting steve. then when they all go in the tunnels to burn it he confesses to her”

Warnings: Violence. Cussing.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve had liked you for a while, but there had never been a good chance to tell you. But now, seeing you on top of Billy Hargrove’s back like some kind of bull rider, now seems like his only chance.

Words: 2,225

Listen To: Nervous (Acoustic Version) by Gavin James

Gif Creds: @stevrogers

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13.04 coda

scream with me, children

and send me a message if you’d like to be added to or removed from the taglist!

This weird… feeling follows him around for the rest of the day. Just out of nowhere.

It’s probably left over from his talk with Sam. His guilt eases a bit. He feels impossibly lighter – even though their situation has not changed, everything is just as hopeless as it was yesterday, and yet, in the middle of the day and for no real reason at all, Dean feels better. Like something has just gone right with the world, even though that’s impossible.

He leaves Sam by the telescope and Jack in the kitchen, where the poor kid stood stock still until he was sure that Dean had left the room, and decides to go somewhere else, somewhere he knows he won’t be bothered.

The archives.

He looks around the corner behind him, and then down the hallway in front of him. He looks behind him one more time, and it’s with this weird feeling buzzing around in his chest and only when the coast is clear that he unzips his inner jacket pocket.

“Here,” Mia had said, holding out her hand.

Dean pursed his lips. “What’s that,” he grumbled, though the answer was obvious.

“My card.” Mia’s hand shook where she held out the small white business card, but she squared her shoulders and held her ground. “I know you don’t believe in it, but if you ever change your mind. If you ever get tired of being angry. You let me know.”

Keep reading

Once Upon A Flannel

Title: Once Upon A Flannel

Summary: Dean doesn’t know how or why he fell in love with her. But he does know one thing. It all started with a flannel

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer (mentioned), Castiel (mentioned)

Word count: 3977 (totally worth it, I promise)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Some language. Implied smut. Death of a loved one, mentions of blood and references to grief. 

Author’s Notes: This is my very late submission for @luci-in-trenchcoats‘ AU & Things Challenge. Michelle, I can’t even thank you enough for being so patient with me about this. I fell so in love with the story and wanted to do it justice. 

Special thank you to twin @ravengirl94 for reading parts of it over for me and listening to me whine, I don’t know what I’d do without her.

My prompt for this was flannel (obviously, lol) and you’ll see what I did with it in the text *winks* Also, this fic was loosely inspired by Ed Sheeran’s How Would You Feel (You need to listen to that, btw, his new album is amazeballs)

Thank you for all of your love and support. Enjoy <3


The first time Dean sees her in one of his flannels, it’s after a wendigo hunt.

Autumn’s slowly creeping its way into his life again, its tawny leaves and withered hedges painting the scene in golden colors and, even though he rarely takes the time to appreciate things like these anymore, he stops for a second and breathes it all in, the crispiness and the rustles and the shadows of change.

And then, she swims into view.

She’s sitting on the hood of a Bronco in Bobby’s scrap yard, fallen leaves dancing at her feet, as she stares straight ahead, at the sky that’s turning to orange, and smiles.

And he doesn’t notice at first, but there’s something familiar there, in the red and white fabric that wraps around her, in the way the garment dwarfs her, in the rolled-up sleeves and the hem that reaches her mid-thigh and he realizes that it’s his clothes she’s wearing.

She looks beautiful.

Keep reading

The Secret Book Club Part 4

Originally posted by the-lokis-queen

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Content/Warnings: FLUFF, DEATH BY FLUFFY FLUFFY BUNNIES

Words: 1518

Prompt: LOKI X READER WHO SHARE BOOKS AND READ TO EACHOTHER AND LOTS OF FLUFF HHH THAT WOULD BE SO CUTE PLEASE

Authors Note: THE FLUFFS HERE! Not the longest update cause I’ve been soooo tired pulling long shifts at work, but it’s here and I wanted to end it there before I got to the *wink* OTHER STUFF *wink*. So yeah, not the end! SO not the end!

@mrsethedreamqueen, @asometimestroubledmind, @undiscoveries, @ladydork, @thefallenbibliophilequote, @what-lies-within-us, @mymourningtea, @autistic-alien, @pixierox101, @whatsbetterthanfantasy, @sarcasmismysexuality, @allltheships, @mrsstarkpotter, @meunicorn, @weasley-parker, @constellationsolo, @graysonmalfoy, @prncesskte, @mi-draws, @trans-kid-trash, @thecaptainamerica16, @deafeninghighheels, @also-known-as-me, @riverdalerebel, @allyallyally-oh, @shahdaryu, @midnightsinger, @notthisthyme, @hiddlestoner3059, @daisydontforgetme, @say-my-name-assbut, @johnmurphys-sass, @scribbledoctopus

Part one
Part two
Part three
Part five
Part six
Part seven (NSFW)

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if the sky could dream 

[mike wheeler x reader]

author’s note: been wanting to write this but just didn’t know how to go about it, kinda happy w/ how it turned out tho. i love writing the boys so much, they’re the perfect practice for writing a conversation involving multiple people 

word count: 1,671

Keep reading

The Danger Of Red Lips // A Dylan O’Brien Smut

Relationship: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Warnings: *cracks knuckles in preparation because this is tHE DIRTIEST SMUT I HAVE WRITTENNSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Ice Play, Moan Play, Cum Play (Is that even a thing?) Oral (Both), “Creampie”, Facial Ejaculation, Titty Fucking, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Public-ish Sex, Unprotected Sex, So Much Teasing, Dom!Dylan but also Sub!Dylan, Swearing, and Dylan O’Brien is one kinky motherfucker.

Word Count: 8,835

Song: Drunk In Love by Beyoncé Ft. Jay-Z

A/N: I was in the mood to write something absolutely filthy without any real plot so … this happened. I really think it’s the dirtiest fic I have ever written, I did not hold back at all. Thank you to @stilinski-jpeg for proofreading. This is pure porn y’all, enjoy! And ladies never underestimate the power of red lipstick, put it on and conquer the world.

P.s. I couldn’t decide between these two gifs, so I just put both.

Chewing on my lips until they became swollen, I tried my hardest to concentrate on my work on the table front of me which soon became long forgotten as I felt a warm and comforting hand settling on my shoulder. Looking behind me, I see a smiling Dylan as one of his hands began beautifully massaging my shoulder and his other hand held something behind his back. My eyes were too focused on his skillful massage to care about what he was hiding. His long fingers rubbing at just the perfect amount of pressure, my chest involuntarily sighing in pure bliss. The veins on Dylan’s hand were what attracted me the most, my body feeling this sudden need to trace them with my tongue.

Without a single word pushing past his lips, Dylan pulls out what he’s hiding and hands it to me. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, but mostly intrigue, as I take the tube of lipstick he was holding and examine it in my own hand. His free one moves to my unattended shoulder and, now with both hands, he expertly massages my tense shoulders. I stare back up at him, my mind more confused than it’s ever been.

“Why did you just give me one of my lipsticks?” I asked, my head cocking to the side.

“Put it on.” Dylan nodded towards it.

“What?” I chuckled slightly. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

“Okay, but why?” I pressed.

“Don’t you trust me?” My husband shrugged, challenging me. “Just put on the lipstick, kitten.”

Keep reading

Originally posted by loptrlaufey

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2880

Warnings: Mentions of fight. THOR RAGNAROK SPOILER

Feedback is always appreciated!
If you want to be tagged in my stories, just ask me!


Ragnarok.
All the people of Asgard know the legend of this unique and catastrophic event. It’s the destruction of Asgard, and of his people.
No one, though, had ever really thought about it, until Asgard lost the King of the Gods.
Odin is dead.
In the last two years, while we thought that Odin sat on the throne, actually Loki was: he had made everyone believe that he was dead, and had taken his father’s place.
I cried Loki’s death. He and I are friends since childhood; along with Thor, we were inseparable. Although they were two princes, and I.. a normal person, they were very kind to me. The friendship between me and Loki is much stronger than that between me and Thor.
In fact, as in a children’s fairy tale, I fell in love with Loki. Too bad he doesn’t know; I decided not to say anything to him. His rejection would be too embarrassing, and my heart would break.
When Thor found out what Loki did, they started off in search of Odin; but now it was all over. The King of the Gods is dead, and this led to the release of Hela, the Goddess of Death. Thor and Loki’s sister.
The two Gods tried to stop her, but it was useless.
Thus, while Thor and Loki are dispersed, to Asgard chaos reigns. After completely destroying the army, Hela sat on the throne, ready to conquer the other kingdoms; but, coming to the Bifrost, she discovered that the Sword -the weapon to activate the Bifrost- had been stolen.
I know exactly who took the Sword: Heimdall, who was hiding in the mountains of Asgard. He, after he was able to find me, asked me to help him. In fact, we are trying to save more Asgardians as possible from Hela.
For now we are hidden, but time is running out, and soon the Goddess of Death will find us.
I’m sitting next to some kids, and I try to reassure them, telling them that everything will be fine, and that soon the God of Thunder will save us. Will it really happen? Thor can’t be dead, and even Loki.. I know that both are alive, and they will come back to help us.
“Y/n?”
I raise my eyes, and I see Heimdall quickly walking toward me; something is going to happen, I understand from his eyes.
His eyes are beautiful; every time I look at them, they always have a strange light, and their color, a shining gold, makes me feel like it’s all going to be fine in one way or the other. Behind  Heidmall, there’s the splendid Brifost Sword, which he protects with his own life.
“Heimdall, what happens?”
I know it’s a stupid question; only one thing can disturb Heimdall. The arrival of Hela. In fact, he warns me in a low voice that we must bring all the people away from where we are now, before the Goddess arrives. All of us, we head to Brifost; maybe, if Hela is distracted, Heimdall can use the Sword, and we can run away. But when we get to the Bridge, waiting for us is a huge monster with the appearance of a wolf: it’s Fenrir, Hela’s personal animal.
I scream to people to go back, but on the other side of the Bridge are coming Hela soldiers. We are trapped.
I look at Heimdall, and nodding toward him, I pull my daggers -Loki has given them to me so many years ago- and I prepare for the battle. Fenrir roars, and starts running toward us. I try to use my body as a shield, but the more he approaches, and the more I feel smaller than he is.
Suddenly, we hear noises in the distance; I look up, and I see a small ship coming towards us. From inside it falls something: a huge green creature, which immediately launches on Fenrir.
The ship from where the strange creature falls stops on the Bridge, and I see two people coming out from the inside. A woman, and Thor. I smile, and I run fast to him.
“Y/n!”
Thor embraces me, while he tells me he’s happy to see that I’m fine. My smile soon disappears, noticing the absence of someone. Loki is not together with his brother.
“Loki is alive, Y/n. But I don’t think we’ll see him.”
A huge hole is formed in my stomach; Loki is alive. But he preferred to be saved, to save his people. I nod, accepting the reality. Perhaps Thor has always been right: Loki only cares about himself.
Thor moves away from me, headed toward Hela, intending to fight her. Meanwhile, I help people walk to the entrance of the Bifrost, but again, we are trapped. Outside, there are other soldiers who run toward us.
I begin to attack them, together with the other Asgardians who want to defend their lives and that of others, even if they aren’t soldiers. I’ve got the cable to fight –in fact, Loki and Thor taught me many fighting techniques when we were little- but I’m just me against hundreds of warriors. When it seems that everything is lost, from the fog, a strange creature appears, which seems to be entirely made of stone. At first, he seems to rise, but then I realize he’s standing on a huge spaceship, which it is approached to the bridge.
Other creatures come out of the ship, flinging on the soldiers of Hela; finally, their leader comes out of the ship: Loki. I widened my eyes when I see him get off the ship’s ramp with a smile on his face.
“Please, feel free to come down.”
People start running to the spaceship to get safe, while some of them continue to fight. I keep staring at Loki, who finally notices my presence in the midst of all this chaos; I thought I would never see him again.
Suddenly, someone makes me back to reality: one of Hela’s soldiers strikes me behind, clenching his hands around my throat. I give him an elbow right in the stomach, and turning around, I stab him with my dagger. The soldier falls to the ground, lifeless.
“I note with pleasure that you’ve become stronger.”
I turn around, and I see Loki approaching me; the first thing I would do is hug him and squeeze strong to me, but I refrain. Not to let him understand the feelings that I feel, I’ve always tried to make him believe that jokingly I hate him.
“Glad to see you, Loki. I thought you were dead. Again.”
Loki smiles, but we don’t have much time to chat; many other soldiers are threatening us.
Meanwhile, the battle of Thor against Hela moves to the bridge; Thor seems to have become stronger, though, Hela is very powerful, and seems to have the best on his brother.
So, Thor comes up with an idea, a weird and crazy idea: to make the Ragnarok happen.
His plan is to awaken Surtur, and let him fight with Hela, until the complete destruction of Asgard.
However, Surtur’s crown is in the castle, where Odin preserved the most important and powerful relics.
It’ll be Loki to go to the castle, and take the crown, while Thor distracts Hela.
“I’m going with Loki.” I tell the two brothers, who they immediately beg me to get on the ship and save me, along with the other Asgardians.
“I can’t escape, Thor. I want to fight. And then someone has to check that Loki doesn’t do stupid things. Again.”
Me and Thor look at the God of Mischief, who pretending to be offended by my words, he rolls his eyes.
In recent years, Loki has done horrible things –he tried to conquer a world that it didn’t belong to him, and then he faked his death, and left Odin alone on Earth- but in spite of everything, I can’t hate him. He’s still Loki, my friend.
Thor tells me to be careful, and after hugging him, I follow Loki in the castle.


This is the craziest plan I ever heard, I think to myself as I walk silently through the corridors of the castle along with Loki.
We should try to save our home, and instead we are about to resurrect Surtur, who will destroy it. And if we can’t even stop Hela with him? We will all die.
“Are you all right?”
I turn to Loki, who looks at me worried. Even if it doesn’t seem, I can feel that he is also afraid of what might happen.
Before I didn’t have time to observe him well; his hair grew a little. Seeing Thor with short hair, I thought how Loki would be without his long hair. It would emphasize his face and pale skin. He’s wearing different clothes from those he always wears; this uniform is perfect for him. But I believe that whatever he wore, I would love it. Now that I think, if Loki and I die, he will never know that I’m in love with him.
“We’re about to destroy Asgard. Our people might die. Yeah, never been better.” I say sarcastically. Should I tell him? I’m so afraid..
Finally, I and Loki arrive in the relics room, and we walk quickly toward the crown of Surtur; suddenly, however, Loki stops. I turn to look at what has attracted his attention: the Tesseract.
“Loki.. don’t even think about it.”
Loki looks at me, and sighing, he begins to walk again
“I don’t want to steal the Tesseract. Again.”
A sad smile comes to my face; because of Tesseract, Loki killed innocent people, but eventually Thor managed to stop him.
“You don’t want to steal it again, I know. I feel it.”
“Really? And what do you feel? I betrayed my brother, more than once.”
As Loki says these words, he approaches the Surtur crown, and after taking it from his hands, I and he go away, ready to resurrect the creature.
“You betrayed Thor, but you’ve always come back to him to help him. When Thor came back, he told me I would never see you again. Yet you are here, to try to save your people. Our people.”
Loki looks at me while still holding Surtur’s crown. I approach to him, and as I recover the crown, our hands touch.
“Actually Loki, God of Mischief, you’re a good man.”
I try to say more; maybe this is the exact time I should tell Loki that I love him. Like in a fairy tale..
Instead, I lower my gaze, remaining in silence. Then, I approach the Fire of Life, and I put the Surtur crown inside. As soon as I walk away, everything around me and Loki begins to shake. Me and the God of Mischief exchange a look, and immediately we run as fast as possible towards the castle doors, to go out and reach safety. Surtur is about to arrive, and he will soon destroy the first thing he will be facing: the castle. The place where exactly we are now and Loki.
I’m running as fast as possible, while Loki is exactly in front of me. Suddenly, I see cracks forming on the walls, growing more and more up to the ceiling. I block when I see part of the walls fall straight to me. I cover my head with my arms, but I feel my body move; when I open my eyes, I see Loki’s face a few inches from mine, he’s obviously worried.
“Are you okay?” he asks me as I swallow deeply; it’s the first time that he’s so close to me, and despite everything around us is falling, I can’t help but think of his lips so close to mine.
Unable to say a word, all I do is nod.
Loki helps me to get up, and immediately we start to run away. On the corner of my eye, I look behind what’s going on; the castle is on fire.
Suddenly, I snatch myself against Loki’s back; I turn to find out why he stopped, and my body freezes. The fire has now surrounded us.
“What are we going to do?” I scream to Loki. He approaches me, and he tightens my body to his; I blush, and not because of the fire.
“Close your eyes.”


At my awakening, everything is confused.
The first thing I remember is the conversation between myself and Loki; then I threw Surtur’s crown into the fire, and then his awakening.
The castle was beginning to fall one piece at a time, due to Surtur growing more and more. Loki and I started to run, and then I remember anything else. Maybe something hit me, maybe I fainted.
I look around: surely we are no longer on Asgard. The room I am in isn’t very big, there is only one bed, where I’m relaxed, a small furniture with a large mirror, and a window. I get up quickly, and approaching the window, I’m breathless. Outside there’s.. nothing. It’s all dark, here and there are some rocks, some smaller, some bigger. They are asteroids. We are in the space.
The door behind me opens, and Thor enters in the room. He looks at the bed, but when he sees that it’s empty, he glances through the room until his eyes stand on me.
“Thor.”
He comes to me, and clutches me in his arms, whispering to be happy that finally I woke up.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. Surtur was born, the castle was destroyed, and before I got on the ship, I saw you lying on the Bridge, helpless. I took you in my arms, and then we escaped.”
“Where’s Loki?”
Thor low the gaze to avoid mine; he sits on the bed, and I follow him. His silence makes me feel uncomfortable; I’m afraid of what he will say.
“I think.. I don’t know, maybe.. Loki isn’t there. I didn’t find him.”
I froze; Thor only found me on the Bridge. But maybe Loki escaped alone, maybe he didn’t want to come with us. The God of Mischief is always saved.. right?
“He’s alive, Thor. I feel it. Sooner or later we’ll see him.”
Thor looks at me, and nodding at my words of hope, he smiles. He still loves his brother after all. He also hopes that Loki is fine.
About twenty minutes later, I sit next to the window of my room, watching the infinite darkness of space; from Asgard I saw the sky in a completely different way. Only now I understand his true beauty. I think back to Loki, and because he didn’t want to come with us on the ship. Why did he want to leave us again? Why did he abandon me again?
“Are you sad for something?”
I jump, and in front of me, just a few feet away, there’s Loki, with a brilliant smile on his face. I smile, and I step forward toward him to embrace him, but immediately I stop. Loki seems confused; is he really that in front of me, or is it just an illusion?
“Why every time something horrible happens, you make everybody believe that you are dead, and in fact you are alive?”
“It must be my nature.” Loki says, smiling; I roll my eyes, but his laughter makes me smile too. If he’s here, illusion or not, at least means he’s alive.
"What happened in the castle?”
“The fire enveloped us; I hold you to me, and we’re gone because of my powers. But you’re faint; don’t worry. It happens when you’re too close to a beautiful God like me.”
I make a hysterical laugh when I hear his words; the funny thing is that he’s right. Well, probably I’m fainted because the fire, and the sudden ’teleporter’. But a bit is also his fault.
“I’m glad you’re alive Loki. Even if you’re not really here.”
Loki furrows, and slowly he takes a few steps toward me; my body freezes as he gets closer and closer. I’m afraid if I try to touch him, he can disappear, and this time forever.
“Y/n, I’m really here.” Loki says as if he had read my thoughts. His hand is approaching my face, and a shiver runs through my back when Loki’s soft hand touches my cheek. I look up, and my eyes meet his; Loki is getting closer to me, and I’m breathless. Is he really doing what he is doing? Loki, the God of Mischief, my friend that I love since I was a child, and I never said anything to him.. he’s kissing me. I don’t move, and I feel my face blush at the same time when Loki turns away from me, a grin appears on his face.
“W-why did you do it?” I ask Loki with the few words I can say.
“You thought I was just an illusion.”
“Well, you could shake my hand, or hug me, or give me a slap, or shake my hand..”
I close my mouth, no longer knowing what to say. Loki stares at me with a grin on his face as I feel more embarrassed.
“I missed you Y/n. I really missed you.”


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