i made this because the faces he makes are the best

Noct! Pleeeeeease!?

@sulkyprince

If you didn’t see this coming then you are banned! Also what is wrong with you? I promise I am not overworking myself either, I didn’t even leave my chair. I wanted to undress him (GIGGITY) but that’s too much effort right now. I’ll do something special for the next Prompto and Chocobo Pic, I promise. Also here, the original shots. I just cropped and tweaked them slightly on my phone.

I like the one above the best but I used the other one for Crack because the angle and the way it spoke to me made me feel like he’s RIGHT up in Noct’s face, so..

I had to save the draft and back out to crop this one. I love it so much. It looks like a pic of proud Mama and Baby lol!

My Story

After I posted my letter about starting a new job at Dreamworks I got a lot of messages and emails from people asking if I could talk about my journey more in detail and how I got here despite going to school in Pittsburgh for psychology and almost giving up on animation halfway through college. I know that I would have appreciated reading something like this a year and a half ago so I thought I’d share my story in the hopes that it might be able to help someone who is struggling. Plus: a detailed explanation of how social media has done so much for me as an artist.

Buckle in guys. Lots of text under the cut! 

Keep reading

okay. when you go invisible there’s pros and cons. for example, who is going to apologize when they bump into you. that sucks. on the other hand, you’ll never take an ugly picture again. so that’s good.

pupils, it turns out, are a pretty important part of the eye, and they are black for a reason. and when your eyes cannot take in light, they cannot see. so being invisible comes with blindness; a painful irony. everyone seems to want invisibility for spying, for watching unnoticed. but others are as invisible to you as you are to them. the world cannot see you and you cannot see the world.

you learn in the second year of invisibility how to move around. your hearing is better than good. truth be told, you’re still waiting for someone to notice you just disappeared one day. nobody really seems to. before it happened, once, on the last day of school the teacher took a poll. “flight or being invisible”. one girl said “you don’t need a superpower to be invisible” and that struck you in your bones.

okay. pros and cons. good news, no responsibilities. stealing is easy. bad news, it’s a lot harder to steal if you can’t see what you’re stealing. worse news, you’re naked. you tried clothes a few times but haven’t made the move north to justify all the layers. where’s edna mode when you need her? you sigh loudly on a train. the person next to you jumps. you feel bad about that.

pros and cons. pros: your landlord hasn’t noticed. he thinks you’re very busy. cons: you are not that busy.

you’re kind of used to people bumping into you - you’re getting good at navigating around them - when the first person navigates around you. it takes you a while to notice what happened because you were busy thinking about carmilla again. for a month you retrace your steps, wondering if you’ll rediscover this mystery person.

you’ve lost all hope of it reoccurring - maybe it was a fluke? - when it happens again. this time, carefully, you follow them. they pick up the pace. soon the two of you are almost-running.

“why are you doing this?” her voice is young and angry. you’re stopped at a street crossing. “why would you chase a blind woman?”

oh you’ve made a huge mistake. oh god you’re literally the worst. you’re out of breath. “I’m …” it’s been a while since you spoke, your voice comes out fringed and raw, “I’m sorry I just…” okay now it’s awkward. how are you supposed to say i’m invisible i was surprised you went around me.

actually, that’s what you say exactly. it kind of just slips out naturally.

she snorts, but she seems to calm down. maybe she takes it not-literally. “i can hear you. you’re practically stomping.” she smells good. like flowers and lemons.

“i’m sorry again,” you say, “just…” you clear your throat, “not a lot of people notice me.” yeah, that sounds better. phrased more… diplomatically.

“I did,” she says. “you could have just asked instead of chasing me.”

you cough. “yeah.” take a deep breath, “that was shitty of me. i’m sorry i just…” you’re just invisible, “you surprised me.” you’re sort of at a loss for words so you turn to leave. “anyway, thanks for seeing me.”

“i didn’t,” she reminds you, and you laugh. she lets out a little note. “can you… tell me when it’s safe to cross the street?”

actually. you can’t. whenever you cross, you mostly guess and hope and base it off of when other people go. how’s a car supposed to stop for someone it can’t see. 

“uhmmm,” you say. “i’m kind of…” you’re kind of also blind. 

but then you realize you hear people around you. “okay,” you say, praying you won’t accidentally kill the both of you, “um…” and you both stand there and wait.

for a while, this is your only interaction among the human species. you’re not really sure how much time passes - without the sun it’s always hard. you judge it by population density. have a bunch of clocks in your house that read out the time audibly. 

you find her again in a bakery. you almost bump into her. you sit in a table a few away from hers, even though you can’t eat in public. someone tries to sit on you. pros and cons: people try to sit on you, but you always get the meal for free.

the thing is, people often see blindness as some kind of disease they can catch. you hear them avoiding her. you feel their awkwardness as they serve her things, how they talk down to her or overexplain things. you want to explain it’s just a part of who she is. it doesn’t make her broken or untouchable. you feel a fire in you. a violence that has no outlet, only a rage at how unfair people are around those who are different.

“hey,” you don’t know when you made the choice to walk over, but you’re glad you did, “don’t i know you?”

you can hear her smile. “i don’t forget voices. you’re my stalker, correct?” i laugh. “go on,” she says, “go ahead and sit.” 

you fumble for the chair. you hear her motion for a waitress, but you clear your throat. “i already ate,” you say through a growling stomach, “just stopped to say hi.”

she’s quiet. you hear something, and then you’re struck in the face by an unidentified flying object. you eventually judge it to be a salt shaker.

“you’re blind,” she says.

“ouch,” you say.

it’s a beautiful friendship. you tell her you’re too shy to talk in public. you share books on tape and sculpture projects and you almost feel normal for a fraction of a second. you go to support groups where you talk about how the government systematically devours anyone on disability, how people treat you differently, how there are no disabled princesses coming out of disney. how all love stories about people like you are tragedies. you start to feel un-invisible. the others help you learn things like how to use technology that describes tv, how to read braille. you discover words are more beautiful in 3D. she’s by your side while you finally watch the carmilla movie in the quiet warmth of your apartment’s safety.

well. pros and cons, because that lasts for maybe two months before she finally realizes: “are you naked?”

yeah, you are. you had been wearing things every time you’d hung out, swinging it so you two were always alone, but then she wanted to go for a walk. now how are you supposed to explain left boob: out. “um,” you say. how do you phrase: i wasn’t joking about that invisible thing when we first met literally nobody can see me.

that’s exactly what you say. 

maybe you’re still learning the whole talking-to-people thing. 

at first, she laughs. then she sobers up. “but really,” she says. “have you been screwing with me?” 

your heart bangs oddly at the idea she thinks you’d hurt her like that. “no,” you promise, before she can get angry, “let me… show you,” your voice cracks, “please.”

she pauses. the silence is long. “okay,” she says at last. “but if you’ve been pretending this whole time, i’m never speaking to you again.”

so you hold her hand (why is your heart a million miles an hour? is it fear at telling the secret? is it fear at the idea she might not believe it?) and you show her as best as you’re able. you speak in public, levitate things. people scream or jump or leave the building. 

you take her back to the cafe where you met. you order a coffee. the boy behind the counter asks her how she ordered without moving her mouth. she says she’s an expert ventriloquist. you both sit down at a table. you fumble for the chair again. it feels very familiar.

“i’m sorry,” you choke out, keeping your voice low so it’s hidden under the cafe’s dull roar, “i didn’t mean to lie to you.”

“your entire body is sitting naked on a chair right now,” she replies, and then she can’t stop laughing. after a moment, you join in. something about her laughter is so incredibly infectious. 

once she’s calmed down, she orders a cocoa. there’s a long pause. “well, that’s a kick in the teeth,” she says, “talk about irony. nobody can see you, but you can see nobody.” she blows on her drink. “how have you not immediately used this for money.”

you laugh. then you both spend a day walking and planning while she pretends to talk into a bluetooth. she’s going to be a ventriloquist and you’ll pretend to be the dummy. she’s going to be a psychic and you’ll be the voice from the other side. she’ll get you both into the white house and you’ll follow certain people around whispering “tiny hands are the devil’s work”. you’ll be an international spy, but because you don’t have an unending fortune to get you out of treason, she’ll have to teach you how to be good at being quiet. you’ll both be an international blackmail syndicate that specifically targets those who are privatizing the education and medical systems. you’re going to expose big pharma. the whole time, her hand is in yours and your heart is beating loud, triumphant, she-must-hear-it.

you go home with her. you’ve both been listening to harry potter. you sit and drink margaritas and discuss your houses (you, hufflepuff, her, raven-dor) and “did you put your name in the goblet of fiya”. you talk about how malfoy deserved a better redemption arc and how snape deserves a swift kick to the balls. you get tipsy and laugh and dance and sing and wear clothes. 

there’s a sound and then you are hit in the face by an unidentified flying object which you eventually judge to be a pillow. “sorry” she says, “i was just checking.”

at two in the morning you’re lying on her bed and her head is on your lap. she asks you, finally, that question: “how did it happen?”

you clear your throat. “i don’t know,” you say. the truth is, you’d always been in the background. you have no idea how long you’d been fading for. how long before you just blipped on out of existence. just that you woke up blind and scared and eventually learned how to live with it.

you get choked up, talking about it. how some stuff didn’t even change a bit. how people you cared about didn’t even notice. how a lot of them never asked what happened. and then you say: “for a while i was fucked up about my last sunset.” you sigh. “i didn’t appreciate it.”

she wraps her hand into yours for comfort.

then you tell her: you learned about other things. how snow sounds when it’s falling, or the sound clean hair makes when shifting, or how people can feel happy, so much that they project it around them. 

you don’t say: and i met you. and it was all worth it.

for a long time - and now isn’t time moving so quickly - this is your nights, her at your place or the reverse, walking naked with her in the park and having conversations in public. you even put some of your crazy ideas in action. you never get good at spying, but you do scare the shit out of kids that try to harass your best friend (and she is, isn’t she, isn’t that what’s making your heart crazy and making it so you don’t stop thinking about her ever and making it so every time you’re near her or around her or reminded of her you end up smiling) and you do a great job during halloween when she paints your body so you can wear a costume and be seen - and you help her as best you’re able, always, your princess who saw you when you were invisible.

she’s laughing. it’s winter, so you’re wearing many layers for her, even though it makes you sweaty. you’re picking out a christmas tree, which she finds completely funny. the two of you are doing it by touch. she’s using words incorrectly to describe things. “this one is … robust,” she’s saying, “a tarpaulin sort.” 

you snort. you have finagled it so it looks like your hands are in your coat pockets when they’re really out in the open, fondling branches lovingly. “he’s a beauty,” you say, “gregarious.”

she’s laughing that infectious laugh when you hear it: the snow, gently falling.

you sneak the scarf just a little off your face so you can feel it, somehow shocked at the cold. you let one land on your tongue. her hands find yours, both of you cold. “it’s snowing,” she laughs, and then her free hand finds your exposed face, “it’ll land on you and turn you into the abominable snowman.” her voice is gentle, and the air smells like pine, and you realize for the first time: you are in love.

and for a moment, you are lost, but then her fingers are gently pulling you forwards, and an unidentified flying object very pleasantly meets you in the face, her warmth and her joy and that infectious spirit, her lips better than any sunsets you have missed, her heart a hearth you can always find warmth in.

pros and cons, you think, when she pulls back, but you can’t think of a single con to go with it. you kiss her and kiss her and kiss her and buy the gregarious tree and kiss her and stop for cocoa and coffee and kiss her and don’t care who sees.

that christmas, the two of you have your friends over (what a phrase, what a kind of idea, what a big soulful event of your friends) and you kiss her under mistletoe and hear others say ugh finally and laugh and hold hands and make new plans together and you never seem to stop finding reasons to touch her, and the wild experience of her, and the earth seems to forgive you for ever thinking you were happy when this, this is happy.

in three years, on that day, you’re married; and somehow, someway, she’s more lovely every day.

⇁ money shot (m)

Originally posted by sunkissedhao

pairing⇁Yoongi x Reader 

genre⇁smut || pornstar!au

⚬ warnings⇁dom!yoongi, submissive!reader, verbal humiliation, spanking, roleplay, rough sex, cum play, dirty talk, this is porn ok and everything is consensual

word count⇁10.6k pwp 

[money shot] in a pornographic movie, refers to the sequence in which the male actor ejaculates onto his partner’s body

“Don’t look so put off. Min Yoongi’s indisputably one of the best in the industry. He’s extremely professional and experienced—and handsome to boot. You’ll be in the very best hands. He rarely works with newbies, so consider yourself special.”

or ; the author just really wanted to write a pornstar!au but got carried away;;

Keep reading

BTS Reaction - when you refuse to make noise during sex

So I took liberties a little bit from the original request, just to make sure they weren’t all too samey.  Forgive me. 


Seokjin

“Jagiya, what’s wrong?”  Jin directs the question up to you from where his head is nestled between your breasts, and even though there’s concern in his eyes it doesn’t do anything to still the graze of his thumb across your swollen nipple.

You’re confused; nothing’s wrong.  It’s just the opposite, in fact, and when you lift your head from the pillow to look down at his painfully handsome face and he sees that befuddlement in your expression Jin smiles kindly, turning his head to briefly kiss your breast.  

“You’re so quiet,” he explains further, and suddenly you understand what it is he means.  

You and Jin have only very recently started having sex - in fact you could probably count all the occasions on just one hand - and the last time you had your boyfriend had very firmly planted his over your mouth to silence you.   With no explanation at the time, and none afterwards to speak of either, you’d taken it to mean that you were clearly too loud in bed and that this wasn’t something he liked nor appreciated.  So of course, in an effort to please him and save yourself the embarrassment, this time around you’d made a considered effort to bite your lip and keep all those usual moans in.  It wasn’t easy, by any means.  

Keep reading

[when you finally finish a fic after three months]

-

“Yo, grandma! Why does your yard look so nice?”

“Because it’s been watered.” She answers, opening her arms and silently asking for the hug Stiles will never deny her. She always smells like cookies and coffee.

“That was supposed to be my job!” Ever since she dislocated her shoulder and Stiles’ dad gave her a lecture about being more careful, Stiles was entrusted on taking care of her garden for her. He isn’t particularly good at it, though. The last time he visited, two months ago she threatened to fire him, even though he’s, you know, her grandson.

“Well, I just got someone to help you.” She smiles and pats his cheek. “Since you’ve been so busy being away.”

“You need to work on your sarcasm, Mrs. Stilinski.” Stiles mutters, narrowing his eyes. His grandma smirks.

Please.Who do you think taught your father?” She turns to the fridge and begins pulling ingredients for a cake. “Chocolate cake, honey?”

Stiles only mutters a ‘yes, please’ and turns to look out the window. If she was, in fact, capable of firing her own grandson (even though he’s supposed to be working for free), Stiles should meet the person who replaced him and managed to make the roses look pretty again.

“He should be by the fence.” His grandmother says, joining him by the window. “He’s tending to the tulips today. I hope he’s shirtless again.” She adds.

What.” Stiles squeaks, turning to stare at her. “Grandma, tell me you didn’t hire him just because he’s hot?” It has happened before, many times. The last guy she hired to fix the sink almost gave Stiles’ dad a heart attack.

“Not just because.” She smirks again.

“Oh my God.” Stiles face palms. His grandmother is a menace.

Before she can retort, the back door swings open and Derek steps into his grandmother’s kitchen. “Cecilia, could you get me a glass of water?”

His grandmother’s smile gets bigger.

“Oh my God.” Stiles repeats.

Keep reading

good.

Originally posted by kylemclachlan

(joe keery x reader) 

request: babes! can I have a joe keery one where y/n works on the set of stranger things and to him she’s like the coolest ever and the both have the same style and he falls pretty hard, and when season two comes around there’s a tearful reunion and confessions of love xxxx (also can y/n be british?)

summary: turns out joe doesn’t really cope well with his emotions and cries when he’s tired.

word count: 2,393

a/n: okay, so this is going out tonight (sunday), and i won’t be on much at all tomorrow BECAUSE MY AUNT IS HAVING A BABY, so i’m going to queue up a fic that somebody submitted to me, and that’ll go out tomorrow. that is all. there are no warnings in this fic. it’s just nice and fluffy and joe cries a lil. 


It had all started with the slapping.

Well, really, it had started when you’d been hired as a production assistant for some Netflix show. The premise had seemed interesting enough - you’d grown up being into sci-fi stuff - but what had really intrigued you was the fact that it was a paying job. You’d been trying your hardest to get a job in film, on top of trying to get someone to hire you while also providing you a work visa.

Eventually, your uncle had known this dude who’d known a woman who babysat for this person’s cousin who knew someone that worked at Netflix. Which meant that a couple of months later, you were working on the set of an actual tv show.

But the actual fun? That had started with the slapping.

It was day three of shooting, when you’d noticed it. Being a PA meant that you were relatively low on the list of important people, and that you were there to do what you were told and to keep your mouth shut. But you’d started to pick up on the fact that two of the actors, Gaten and Finn, had red cheeks. Not just red cheeks where they were a little excited for the scene at hand, but like… like they’d been hit. You had younger brothers. You knew how stupid kids could be. They’d already shot the scene twice, and a difference like that would be noticeable.

So you took a chance. You approached one of the Duffer brothers - you prayed you’d get the name right - and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Uh, Matt? Gaten and Finn’s cheeks look a little off. It might show up on camera.” You and Matt looked to the boys in question, watching as Finn reared his hand back and slapped Gaten across the cheek.

“What the fuck… Hey, you two! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Matt started towards them, scowling as you hesitated for a second before following behind him. “Are you kidding me? You can’t slap each other before a take. It’s going to ruin continuity.”

“We can’t help it! We’re excited!” Gaten piped up, grinning.

“Well, are you guys going to stop?” Finn and Gaten both looked towards each other before turning back to Matt, shaking their heads, grinning like a couple of idiots. “Jesus,” he muttered. He sighed, running a hand over his face as he turned around. His gaze settled on you. “You, you good with kids?”

“Uh, sure?”

“Cool. You’re being promoted to child wrangler.”

“Isn’t there already a wrangler?”

“Well, yeah, but… You’ll be the actual wrangler. They’re worried about the kids’ safety. You’ll be making sure they don’t do anything stupid.”

Don’t do anything stupid became the mantra for the entirety of filming.

There would be days where it felt like the only things that you said were:

“Finn, knock it off.”

“Gaten, I understood the joke. It wasn’t funny.”

“Caleb, please stop talking.”

“Finn, knock it off.”

“Noah’s my favorite.”

“Finn, knock it off!

There were more better days than worse days, though. Millie easily listened to you the best, although that was more because you’d both lived in England. But weirdly enough, your favorite person on set ended up being Joe.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

do you know why lance seems to be the fandom sweetheart for like a majority of people watching voltron? don't get me wrong, he has his great moments, but half of the time he's just plain annoying (so fucking annoying). maybe i'm just too old to like the kind of character lance is.

I’ve thought about this myself, and here’s what I found–relatability. Lance has, by all means, the most “normal” background. He’s intended to be the “everyman,” a character that’s typically easygoing and very much what you’d expect from an ordinary teen. For the pilot episode, our intro, he also feels like the main focus out of the ensemble cast. As such, he ends up being this slate that a lot of fans, teens especially, can project onto. They see themselves in his place. He has typical problems like homesickness, competitiveness, jealousy, inferiority. 

This is also why a lot of fans extrapolate those issues, I think. Particularly that last one. He’s no longer just someone who’s afraid of feeling left out or second-rate, suddenly he has depression or PTSD. Again, I think this is a result of fans seeing a bit of themselves in Lance and so projecting. It’s natural, and oftentimes people can find it sort of therapeutic. But still, there is something that’s always bothered me about fans insisting Lance in particular suffers from mental illness when we have a character in canon who does–and oftentimes, that part of Shiro’s life is pushed to the wayside in favor of adding those traits to Lance. 

Or, even worse, as I’ve said before, I’ve seen Lance focused k/l that covered Keith’s galra reveal. And Shiro was often shown as the most aggressively against Keith, either outright rejecting or even lashing out at him. A character who suddenly turns monstrous from his canon trauma, all so Lance could look better in comparison, and it’s…very upsetting to see. Anyway, I’m glad Shiro was the one in canon who showed Keith that unconditional love and support through his galra reveal, because so many fanworks believed the contrary. And therein lies something to consider–I’ve seen lots of fans either dismiss or demonize Shiro’s very real symptoms of mental illness, while simultaneously claiming Lance was good representation for it, and it was just…strange.

But again, I assume that’s because people are drawn to different characters. And for whatever reason, those few fans who erase Shiro’s mental illness and pass it off to Lance for the sake of “lang/st” find that “representation” from Lance to be more palatable. That is to say, someone without the very real symptoms Shiro shows. Which, you know, upsets me as someone with clinical depression and other mental health issues, but I digress. If that kind of projection helps other fans, then I guess I kind of understand. 

But I just raised a whole other topic there, so let’s talk about that–“lang/st.” Yeah. Putting Lance through lots of pain and suffering is so common, fandom coined a name. See also, the usually accompanying “klang/st.” So, yeah. If fans love Lance so much, why put their golden boy through so much suffering in a whole genre of fics? I think it’s because fans simultaneously love and hate the actual “everyman” aspect. Yes, Lance is like them. But they want him to be so much more!! They want him to have those deep, angsty backstories and heartbreaking character arcs like Shiro and Keith. 

And yet, suffering from trauma or having a bad childhood does not make a character inherently more intriguing or dimensional. It just doesn’t. People heard “he has a big family” and immediately went to middle child, he’s always left out, his family never loved him enough!! And then in canon the show runners told us he was the youngest of his family and spoiled, and fans were surprised. Personally, I think that’s very fitting for someone who behaves like him, but I digress. My point is, lots of fans wanted him to suffer because they either like angst or they assume it somehow builds development of character. 

But of course, the latter isn’t always true. And honestly? I think there are enough tragic origin stories in Voltron already. Like, at least we have this one guy who seems like he came from a loving family and had a relatively good life. Good for him!! I’m happy for him. And there’s nothing wrong with that, you know? Branching off that, I feel like a lot of klang/st is also to make k/l feel like it has more “substance.” Fans gave k/l the self-discovery arc of Keith’s galra reveal, even though sheith had that. They made Lance the loving and supportive one in the face of Keith’s galra blood, but in canon that’s Shiro. 

Similarly, I see prekerberos things where Keith and Lance were always together or pining. You know who were always side by side in prekerberos canon? Who had that kind of dynamic? Sheith. You know who Keith agonized over being separated from for that long year? Shiro, not Lance. He didn’t even remember Lance’s name. Of course, there are the edits where Lance is in Keith’s BOM trial, though those same fans will swear there was nothing romantic about those sheith scenes. 

Voltron’s twitter posts a video of the sheith hug followed by the group one, and fans just complain about the lack of a k/l hug. Altean Lance aus where Lance and Keith have a k/a dynamic is also common. Lance gushes about his love for Allura in his vlog? “Bad character developement”–should have made him talk about Keith instead. It’s like, fans expected certain things from k/l in canon. And when they didn’t get that, they borrowed the dynamic from other ships, while simultaneously hating those same ships. It’s very strange to me. 

I think part of what broke my heart the most though, was fans rejoicing about Shiro going missing because in their minds it meant Lance would “step up” and be that source of love and comfort in Keith’s life. And that just…I felt sick reading things like that. So yeah, Lance is the “everyman,” but a lot of fans want him to be so much more. There’s this oc quality of–give him everything he wants!! Make him an Altean prince! The Black Paladin! Bring in someone who’s going to be the love of his life!! People want Lance to “prove Keith wrong” and “be the best,” even though Black Paladin Lance significantly detracts from his canon character development. 

They pass onto him qualities of other characters because they think he “deserves” it. So, I’m going to say this–it’s probably because I can’t relate to Lance at all. I relate to Keith, with all his canon fear of feelings and abandonment, his deeply rooted attachment to those he loves, his introspective nature and inclination to act on instinct, his volatile intensity of emotion, his unbridled anger at injustice, his difficulty with letting go, his upsetting childhood, his fierce loyalty, his love of quiet but oppressive fear of isolation, his desire for found family, the way he values his beliefs over his life. So yeah, I really identify with Keith. Some of my meta? Probably projecting a little. It happens. So I understand why people do the same with Lance.

But just like Keith, Lance is still ultimately his own person. And the way he is in canon? He’s a good character all on his own. He’s not Keith or Shiro or Allura, but he’s himself. He’s someone who has a way of instigating important events–bringing all the paladins together for when they find the Blue Lion, following that mermaid and uncovering a whole nefarious plot, helping Allura realize her hidden potential and the very depth of her magic. He goes from a flighty playboy to someone actually shy and sincere, who develops very real feelings for Allura. He realizes being Black Paladin doesn’t make you suddenly better, understands the importance of working as a team and really grows into his role as a Red Paladin. Someone worthy of carrying on Alfor’s legacy, someone Allura can really be proud of. 

So yes, Lance has gotten lots of character development, and I think he’s a really intriguing person all on his own. No other character traits required. 

;dimple (m)

pairing—kim seokjin x reader
genre/warnings—smut, comedy, slight angst/drama, romance, slow burn, roommates/friends
words— 14,725

:: summary— What’s the rule again? How many dates does it take for you have sex with a guy? Three? Five? Ten?! What if all this waiting and you can’t remember how to do it? It’s been so long since the last time you swear you’ve forgotten! You’re desperate, and that’s how you end up asking your roommate for help. Only trouble is, you get much more than you bargained for…

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

could you maybe write something with deaf Derek? like maybe he is used to people trying to communicate by writing on paper or texting but then Stiles comes along and learns sign language so he can ask Derek out!!!!! and like he learns enough to converse and Derek is just !!!!!!!! I just need pining Stiles and soft Derek <3

Thank you for the prompt, I hope you like this little fic! (On AO3)


Stiles takes a deep breath. He’s been working on this for weeks, he’s got this.

He walks up to Derek’s table and stands in front of him, hoping to catch his attention. Derek’s already done eating, and has just started looking through his class notes, so Stiles doesn’t feel too bad about disturbing him.

When Derek glances up, Stiles points to the chair across from him questioningly. Derek gives him a little smile, nodding.

He takes the seat, then signs Hi, I’m Stiles, making sure to mouth the letters as he spells out his name.

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Avengers Facts:

  • everyone always makes a point to reiterate that Natasha could be wearing a full on ball gown and heels and not have a shred of tactical equipment or weaponry on her and still chase after and expertly assassinate u, but no one ever forgets that Clint has done the exact same thing to the tee. The teal made his eyes pop.
  • Tony is allowed to call Natasha, “Natashalie”.
  • Steve is wayyy smarter than people give him credit for and would totally fuck with people (read: tony) when they think he doesnt understand tech stuff, prank others using that tech knowledge, blame it on another avenger, and then get away with it and watch the chaos unfold like a soap opera.
  • Bruce has been caught reclining in the living room with tea while knitting and saying into a phone, “What do you mean she didn’t go for it? honestly, pepper, if u don’t start a lawsuit, i will.” No one has any idea to this day what they were talking about but they still tease him about it relentlessly.
  • Thor does something similar to the Steve thing where he’ll pretend he doesn’t know something so when someone tries to explain it, he makes them go into EXCRUCIATING detail about it no matter how awkward the subject is for like hours, mostly as a test to see how long his act can hold up. It’s been getting better with time.
  • Natasha Romanoff loves matchmaking but she’s not that smooth or completely sauve with her own love life when it really matters.
  • James “Rhodey” Rhodes is the absolute BEST FRIEND in the whole ENTIRE goddamn WORLD forEVER. everyone should aspire to be a Rhodey.
  • Bucky Barnes is a fantastic friend, but also an absolute SHITHEAD and will MERCILESSLY prank u or embarrass u in front of ur date or write on ur face while ur sleeping. the worst part is, unless u know him or ur Steve, u would never expect it.
  • Pepper Potts is the most capable, trustworthy woman in the world but when she’s drunk off her ass, she giggles a lot, embarrasses her friends (read: Tony) with hilarious stories about them, and voluntarily breaks into song if whatever ur saying is also a famous lyric.
  • Sam Wilson is fair, understanding, and supportive but if u eat his leftovers and leave the foil or takeaway box in the fridge afterward, all bets are off and u need to flee the country immediately.
  • For three weeks someone keeps anonymously sending emails and texts and tacking notes in places they’ll see with really dumb bird puns to both Sam and Clint. Immediately everyone assumes it was Tony. Who else could it possibly be?
  • It was not Tony. It was Steve.
  • Rhodey is always called when Tony has a Stupid And Potentially Dangerous Idea because everyone assumes he’ll talk him out of it. This is a mistake. Most of the time, he does, but sometimes you’ll catch Rhodey saying “it’s gonna WHAT? Hold on, I’ll be over in five do not start without me”
  • Steve once walked out of his room at 3am and when he was halfway to the living room and heard an intense screamo/electric pop music mashup playing, a thunderous crash that lasted for fifteen seconds, Clint groaning, Tony shrieking, and Thor laughing a touch too maniacally, he turned right back around in what he later describes as a tactical retreat.
  • Rhodey and Tony have a secret handshake they made up at MIT. when people find out, they assume they’ll be embarrassed or deny it. Not only are they wrong, they will be subjected to a demonstration of it and if they’re REALLY lucky, they’ll get to see the full version. I’m not saying it includes light shows and projectiles, but that is exactly what I’m saying.
  • Everyone helps out with team dinners at least once, but Bruce is always a constant. be careful not to piss him off though. he’ll get u back in such a way that if u confront him about it he’ll turn it on u until u start to believe u imagined the copious amounts of crushed ghost pepper in ur chicken.
  • The Avengers can sit through Titanic, The Notebook, and Up without crying, but they don’t stand a chance against Marley & Me. Thor and Clint will be openly sobbing, Steve will be curled in on himself with his face in his hands, Bruce will need to leave the room, Tony will have tears streaming down his face as he babbles about why no one should ever get a dog ever forever and why they’re getting one first thing in the morning, and Natasha will be clearing her throat and wiping at her eyes as subtly as possible.
Moved On

(Gif credit: allywantstofly)

Summary: After being rejected by her childhood crush, Steve Harrington, the reader looks for comfort in Billy Hargrove. 

It had been two months since Nancy and Steve broke up. And only a month since he stopped coming over to my house a couple times a week sobbing about her. Nancy… it was a shitty breakup. She led him on, told him she loved him, and then cheated on him. He was busted up, he was arranging his future around staying with her.

I always had feelings for Steve. The two of us grew up together, he was the neighbor across the street from me. He was my first kiss… when we were six years old. He lost his favorite tonka truck and when I found it for him, he planted a big ol’ kiss right on my lips.

We were attached at the hip throughout middle school, always doing our homework together, going to each other’s games and recitals. He and Nancy broke up, and I determined it was time to make my move.

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BTS / Drunk confessions

REQUEST: hi~~ can you do a bts reaction on their s/o drunk confessing their love to them when in reality they were already a couple and they have been dating for a while already. thanks!            

Thank you for this request! I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you enjoy!


Jin

Originally posted by blackandwhitebangtan

It was supposed to only be a couple of drinks with your best friends. You had no idea how you ended up so intoxicated, you could barely move. One of the bartenders ended up having to call Jin (because his number was called last on your phone) to take you home.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this drunk,” was the first thing Jin said when your equally as drunk best friends passed you over to your boyfriend.

“What do you know?” you replied, slurring your words. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

Jin stared at you for a good minute. “I kind of am, though.”

“You are? Really?” you squinted your eyes. “Jin?”

“Yes, Y/n,” Jin said, not hiding his amusement at your drunken behavior. “Let’s go home, okay?”

“Okay,” you said, not conscious enough to put up a fight.

As soon as he placed you in the passenger seat and tied a seatbelt on you, you leaned your head against the window, grinning happily. When Jin sat down behind the wheel, he glanced at you and, noticing your cheerful expression, smiled as well.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“You wouldn’t get it,” you said, trying to wave your hand to dismiss the topic, but you ended up hitting the dashboard in the process.

“Try me,” Jin said, starting the car.

“Okay, but don’t tell anyone,” you warned, leaning in to whisper to his ear as if it was a top secret. “I love my boyfriend very much. He’s the best boyfriend ever. He’s probably sleeping at home right now but I’ll tell him I love him when he wakes up.”

Shaking his head, Jin turned to look at you. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he loves you very much, too. Even when you don’t recognize him.”


Suga

Originally posted by seokjins-wings

You and Yoongi started to go out after spending three years of being just friends. In your opinion, it was only natural that sometimes you tended to forget that he was no longer just a best friend to you.

Sometimes, you woke up in the morning next to him and gasped in horror until you remembered that you weren’t just friends anymore. In fact, you’ve been in a relationship for almost six months now.

Other times, you got too drunk to remember your relationship status. And since you never drank alone, Yoongi was always there, enduring your drunken blabbering.

“What you don’t know, Yoongi,” you said one night after the two of you had gone clubbing. Yoongi may have looked away for just five minutes and you’ve already consumed five cocktails and were starting your sixth. “Is that I have a crush on you. That’s right.”

Although he’s seen you forget your relationship before, Yoongi still bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing as he listened to you. “Do you, now?”

“Yes,” you repeated, sighing dramatically. “It’s so sad to know you’ll never feel the same way. About me, I mean. Because I have a crush on you. I really do.”

“What if I told you we were actually dating?” he asked.

“I’d say you’re lying,” you replied with a hiccup, “And then I’d ask,” another hiccup, “why are you lying, Yoongi? Don’t play with my,” hiccup, “feelings.”

Biting his lip even harder, he got up from the bar stool to gather you in his arms.

“Come on, Y/n,” he said. “You’ve had too much to drink. Let me take you home.”

“Okay,” you said. “I love you, Yoongi.”

He finally laughed at this, kissing your cheek as the two of you made your way towards the exit of the club. “I love you, too, Y/n.”


J-Hope

Originally posted by jinful

Nor you, nor Hoseok liked to drink particularly much, which is why both of you were extremely lightweight. It seemed as if you’ve just taken a sip of champagne, and you were already so drunk, you could barely stand on your feet.

“You’re really beautiful,” you told Hoseok, drunkenly placing a hand on his face while he laughed loudly. “Are you single?”

“I don’t know,” Hoseok shrugged his shoulders. He was just as drunk as you were. “Probably not.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” you said, removing your hand from his face. “Will you go on a date with me sometime, though?”

“I’ll ask my girlfriend,” Hoseok said, deep in his mind realizing that he wasn’t single, but not being sober enough to remember that you were his girlfriend. “I love her a lot, you know.”

“Is she pretty?” you asked, leaning on the bar.

“I think so,” he nodded. “And she has this really nice… what’s it called when you talk?”

“Voice?”

“Yeah, that!” Hoseok said excitedly. “She has a nice voice. And she always finishes my sentences for me.”

“She sounds really nice,” you sighed.

Both of you took another sip of your drinks and then stared at each other for a moment.

“So,” you started, completely forgetting about the conversation you’ve just had with him. “Will you go on a date with me sometime?”


RM

Originally posted by jinkooks

“I would like to make a toast!” you announced to the group of your friends that have gathered at your house to celebrate your and Namjoon’s engagement.

“Babe, uh, aren’t the guests supposed to be making toasts?” Namjoon, considerably less drunk than you, asked you quietly.

“No, shh, hold on,” you shook your head at him and turned to look at your friends again. “I would like to make a toast to Namjoon! He’s the greatest man who has ever walked this Earth! I love him very much and don’t laugh at me when I say I’ll marry him one day because I will!”

Your friends exchanged glances, giggling quietly at your obvious intoxication, but then they clinked their glasses, toasting nevertheless.

“Y/n,” you heard Namjoon address you quietly. “How drunk are you right now?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged your shoulders, finishing your glass of champagne. “I only had one glass.”

“One bottle is more like it,” he said with a sigh.

“You know, Namjoon,” you said dreamily. “We’ll get married one day. Just you wait and see.”

He cleared his throat. “That’s kind of the point, Y/n. That’s why I gave you this ring.”

“What ring?”

“The engagement ring on your finger?”

“I’m engaged?!” you gasped, looking at your hand. “How will I get married to Namjoon if I’m engaged to someone?!”

“Oh, God,” Namjoon sighed, knowing that he was in for a long night until you sobered up enough to remember that he was the one that you were engaged to.


Jimin

Originally posted by parkjmzl

He was the ridiculous drunk in your relationship, not you. And yet, somehow, one night the tables turned. Jimin was still relatively sober, while you were drunk out of your mind. At first, he found this funny, but then you told the bartender you were going to flirt with the guy at the end of the bar, and made your way towards Jimin, while he watched you with confused eyes.

“Hi there,” you told him, trying to wink, but ending up just blinking both of your eyes.

“Hey,” Jimin replied awkwardly.

“You here alone?”

He decided to play along. “Yeah. Why?”

“I’m just wondering what a cute guy like you is doing at a bar alone…” you said, daring to place a hand on his thigh.

Jimin had never in his life heard you flirt like that, so needless to say, he was very amused, albeit a little scared.

“Well, believe it or not, I came to this bar to watch my own girlfriend flirt with me,” he confessed.

“I thought you said you were single,” you said.

“Are you?” Jimin countered.

You were about to reply but then stopped yourself. Your mind cleared a little.

“You know what?” you said. “I’m actually not. I came here with my boyfriend. He should be here somewhere. Light hair, big brown eyes, plump lips that I would really love to kiss right now.”

He bit his lip as he listened to you describe him, and then jumped off the barstool, taking your hand in his.

“Let’s go home, babe,” he said. “So you can kiss your boyfriend.”


V

Originally posted by berry852

Taehyung could hold liquor very well. You were the absolute opposite, which is why you didn’t enjoy drinking very much. However, tonight was a special night. The boys were hosting an award after-party, and you were invited along with their other friends.

A few hours into the party, you were already too drunk to walk properly, so you just settled on the armchair and listened to Yoongi drunkenly explain to you what the thought the real meaning of Go Go was.

“And that is why they sing “yolo yolo” in the chorus,” he concluded while you nodded enthusiastically.

“That makes so much sense, I—”

“Hey, babe,” Taehyung sat down on the handrest of the armchair next to you, distracting you from Yoongi, who stood up and walked away to share his deep insights with someone else. “How are you?”

“Um,” you scooted away from him. “Sorry, I have a boyfriend.”

Taehyung frowned. “Yeah, I know.”

“Okay,” you said, standing up. “So, I’m going to go.”

“Wait, what?” he stood up after you. “Where?”

“To find my boyfriend. He wouldn’t like me talking to other guys.”

Taehyung chose to put his confusion aside when he heard you say this. “He doesn’t? What would he do if he found out you were talking to some guy?”

“He would probably try to beat the guy up,” you admitted, almost losing your balance, and having to lean against a wall. “But he’s not violent. He’s just very jealous.”

“Very jealous, huh?” he smirked, suddenly starting to enjoy when you talked about him to him, without realizing.

“Yeah,” you shrugged your shoulders, smiling suddenly. “But I love him.”

“You love him.”

“Yes. So, excuse me, but I can’t be here. I need to find my boyfriend,” you said and began to stumble your way down the room

“Y/n!” Taehyung called out after you, smiling teasingly. “Tell your boyfriend I said hi!”


Jungkook

Originally posted by jkguks

You and Jungkook have arrived at the party together, but somehow, you got separated. You were drinking by the bar and chatting with a few of your friends, while Jungkook was playing pool at the other part of the house.

He came to find you a few hours later so the two of you could head home. What he hasn’t realized, however, that you got really drunk while he wasn’t with you.

“You know, Jook… I meant, Jungkook,” you hiccuped, “I have probably never told you this, but I’m honestly in love with you.”

He stopped walking. “Y/n, we’ve been in a relationship for two years now.”

You opened your eyes wider. “We have?! That’s incredible!”

A little concerned now, Jungkook placed a hand on your waist to guide you to the taxi that was waiting for you two outside.

“I spent the entire night trying to come up with a way to tell you I loved you,” you told him. “But it turns out we’re dating! How cool is that?”

“Yes, Y/n. It’s very cool.”

“Can you kiss me?” you asked, stopping to touch his face and almost poking his eye out. “To prove that you’re not lying to me.”

“I’ll do that when you’re sober, okay?” Jungkook said.

You pouted. “But I’m sober now.”

He almost laughed at this. “You’re the furthest thing from sober. Let’s go home.”

“Wait… we live together?”

“Yes,” Jungkook sighed. “I don’t know how you’d find home if I weren’t here. You’re never drinking alone.”

“This night is the best night ever!” you announced cheerfully, almost falling over, but Jungkook caught you. “What else is new? Do we have any pets?”

“Yeah. A dragon in your backyard,” he said half-jokingly to hide the fact that he was starting to get annoyed you didn’t remember him.

“A dragon?!” you squealed. “We’re the best couple on the planet! I’m so happy!”

He turned to look at your joyful face and couldn’t help but smile. “How did I get so lucky to fall in love with a girl who is capable of drinking so much, she forgets all about me?”

on-screen chemistry.

Originally posted by dacremontgomery

(dacre montgomery x reader) 

request: What about a dacre fic where he and the reader both work on Stranger Things (reader is an actor as well) and dacre is doing an interview and they ask about the reader and the relationship between their characters (whether it’s friendly, unfriendly, intimate or whatever is up to you) and if there’s any chemistry or feelings off set and dacre accidentally admits to liking the reader.

summary: turns out, dacre gets a little nervous when asked about you in interviews. and when he gets nervous, he word vomits. a lot.

word count: 2,144


“So, Dacre, how would you describe filming season three, compared to season two?”

You glanced up from your spot against the wall, watching as Dacre gave the interviewer a charming grin. You just let out the softest of snorts, earning a glare from the head of PR, Allison Hendrix. You just gave her a small shrug. They were using lav mics, for crying out loud. No lav mic was going to pick up a sound that quiet from across the room.

“Well, I, uh, I’d have to say that it’s been just as fun, if not more fun. I’m much more relaxed this time around, since I’m not the newest person on set.” He chuckled softly, hands flexing against his leg. He did that often, you’d noticed, whenever he’d want to look off camera. The entire cast had been sat down just after filming, everyone having to go through yet another meeting on interview tips and what you weren’t supposed to do. Everybody else had already been coached on such things, but you were the new one. Since you were the only one, and they didn’t want to single you out, they’d made everyone do mock interviews, and then pointed out each others flaws.

It had been a long day.

“Right, of course. Y/N Y/L/N is playing a new character this season, right? Anything you can give us on the character, or how she interacts with Billy?” With that question, Dacre did look off camera, a sly grin on his face as he cocked a brow to Allison.

“What exactly am I allowed to say?” He called back, gaze flickering to you and lingering for a moment. You knew exactly how this would play off on camera. The cheeky Australian wanting to spill the beans on season three. It had been all the rage in the media recently to pretend to leak things about upcoming projects. Dacre wasn’t stupid. It’d be easier to play along with that angle and actually not get in trouble for once on accidentally spoiling things.

“When is this being released?”

“Uh, lemme check,” the interviewer said, grabbing her phone and flicking through whatever apps to find the answer. Dacre looked to the interview for a moment, who was obviously having a little trouble finding the date, and looked back to you. He shot you a crooked grin, the sight making your heart do a little tap dance in your chest. “Two weeks after the season premiere.”

“Say whatever the hell you want that won’t give away anything for season four.”

Dacre gave a quick nod of his head, then winked in your general direction. It was easier for you to roll your eyes than read anything into it. The two of you had been flirting back and forth the entire time you’d been on set, and it was that that had made the PR department decide that you two would be paired up for interviews, despite the fact that the man had yet to make a single move on you. As far as you were concerned, he was just flirtatious.

“Right, so season three, me and Y/C/N, absolutely hate each other. Like, burning, passionate hate. It’s great. It’s a lot of fun to play around with, and she’s just, she’s incredible to work with. She’s absolutely brilliant.” Dacre wasn’t looking at you while he said those things, but then again, he didn’t have to be for your cheeks to burn red. The interviewer nodded her head slowly, most likely picking up on the almost - dare you say it - reverent  tone that he’d adopted.

“So you’d say that she’s great to work with?”

“Absolutely. I really believe that it’s going to translate so well onto the screen.”

“Well, from the trailer and few scenes that have been released, the chemistry between you two is palpable. How was it working on set?” The interviewer was speaking a little faster now, in a way that made you perk up. Maybe you were just being paranoid, but it seemed as though she was leading him somewhere.

“It’s the most fun that I’ve had in a long time. It’s waking up every day and going to work with your best g- friend.” He stumbled over the word friend, making you frown. In all the days that you’d been doing the interview circuit with him, you couldn’t remember once him stumbling over a word. And even if he had, his cheeks had never reddened like that before.

“I could see that. It’s like living the dream, right?” Dacre gave a nod of his head, hands clenching in his lap. He looked a little nervous now, his smile a little tense as he regarded the interviewer. You glanced over to the woman beside you, who probably should have suggested a short break for him to collect himself. But she seemed to be waiting for something, like she knew precisely where this was going. “Would you say that the chemistry between the two of you is the same off camera?”

“I’d say so, yeah,” he gave in and glanced towards the head of PR, just a brief little distraction, but a big show for his nerves. He looked back to the interviewer in the middle of her next question.

“Why would you say that is?”

He answered so fast it was obvious that his words were quicker than his brain in that moment.

“Probably because I really like her.”

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Jealous

Paring: Bucky x Reader 

Prompt: You have been spending more time in the Gym to try and upstage a woman you believe Bucky has a thing for.

Word Count: 4,104 I GOT SO CONSUMED BY THE BUCKY SMUT I’M SORRY I COULD NOT HELP IT

Warnings: Jealous!Reader, mentions of inadequacy, Angst, Gym Smut, SMUT, teasing, C**T rubbing  

A/N: This is my first real Angsty Smut one shot, I now understand what everyone meant when they say you get carried away. Anyway  please let me know what you think! Feedback is always appreciated. To be tagged , and for future tags let me know. Requests are open. Shoot me an ask! Happy Reading!  

“47…..48….49…50..” You counted allowed to yourself. You dropped down to the floor, using as much arm strength as you could to continue forcing your arms to push you up and back down again repeatedly, though you could feel your muscles burning in protest. 

You were actually quite proud of yourself. A few moths ago you could barley complete a simple ten push ups. You could fight like a soldier, shoot like a professional, and run like an athlete, but there were certain exercises you had always refused to do, and push ups were one of them. If you told your past self you would find making it to fifty push ups in less than three minutes easy, you would have laughed and thought you were being put on. 

You made a mental note to yourself to somehow thank Bucky when you had the chance, after all he was the reason you had the sudden urge to begin exercising in the first place. 

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play pretend || sebastian stan

Summary: What’s more humiliating than bumping into an old frenemy from the past at a grocery store, looking your worst? Luckily, someone comes to your rescue.
Warnings: None.
A/N: I found this laying around in my computer so I added some more to it and decided to post it. Hope you like it! Don’t forget to give me some feedback, much love xoxo

You weren’t pathetic. You were just like any normal adult, going grocery shopping on a Saturday night. It wasn’t like you were going back there just to get a glimpse of the hot guy that you saw roaming around occasionally. Really, if you just happened to see him then that would be a bonus.

That’s what you were trying to tell yourself as you were walking down the deserted cereal aisle. You couldn’t decide what kind of cereal you wanted, currently walking back and forth at a slow pace with a box of Captain Crunch in one hand while running a finger along the Cheerios box. You sighed, wondering why the hell it was so hard in the first place, to just pick a brand and move on with getting the ice cream that you’d been looking forward to all day.

You reached up to pick out the Cheerios, humming while contemplating what your pick would be.

“I’d pick the Captain Crunch if I was you.” An amused voice spoke up from behind, and you whirled around in fright.

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I Love You

Characters: Bucky x reader

Summary: ‘I love you’ isn’t a phrase you expect to hear from Bucky Barnes anytime soon, so when those three daunting words slip from your lips on a romantic getaway around Christmastime, your certain he won’t respond well, but he proves you very wrong…

Warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY), oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, ( so much fluff dear god, probs bad editing sorry

Words: 3353

A/N: So this is just a random one for everyone whilst I’m on my break until the 17th of December. It’s christmas and smut all in one go. enjoy.


The sight of a warm fireplace was something that comforted you deeply. The crackle accompanied by the soft light and warmth, it all just made you feel safe.

A blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you sat in front of the fireplace, sipping at a cup of coffee as the pale shine from the moon outside cast a shadow on the wall of the living room.

It was a calm night, the type that made you sleepy at 8 pm as you sipped at a piping cup of tea, the liquid warming you from the inside out. A muffled yawn passed your lips as you stared into fire that cascaded upon the wood in front of you.

It had been Steve’s idea. A romantic getaway around Christmastime to ‘escape’ as he’d put it. You didn’t need to escape, Bucky was enough of a safe haven as you needed, but you weren’t going to refuse an all expenses paid weekend to a cute little log cabin in the middle of the best season of the year.

“I hope you’re not passing out on me.”

You smiled at the sound of the voice coming from behind you, and without turning around you replied, “I’m bored to sleep without you here.”

You listened as the sound of heavy, sock covered footsteps echoed in your ears, approaching you from the side. A kiss was pressed to the top of your head as Bucky sat next to you, rubbing your covered shoulder gently to help heat you up even more with the friction he provided.

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Extra Credit (Part 1)

So here is the Teacher AU that I’ve been meaning to do for a while. Before I get any hate for this, it is a COLLEGE setting and the ages are 21 and 28. That out of the way I plan on making this a decently long Fic, so let me know if you have any prompts or anything you want to see in the future. 

Enjoy. 


Richie parked his old truck in his parking spot and flicked the ash off of the end of his cigarette out the window. He brought it back to his lips and leaned back against the headrest of his seat. Looking down at the clock he inhaled the smoke.

9:20 AM

He still had ten minutes before the start of class, he thought as he reached into the back seat to grab his messenger bag. Stan had tried to convince him to get a briefcase to look somewhat professional. Richie and Bev had both laughed at the thought of Richie parading around campus looking like one of the stuck up professors.

Richie definitely wasn’t one of those. He was the teacher that walked into class on the first day and could blend in with the students if he really wanted to.

Getting a teaching position right out of school was rare but thanks to the glowing recommendation letters that his advisors and Dean had written for him, it hadn’t been too hard.

Say what you want about Richie’s personality but he was a fantastic teacher.

The school board had watched him closely during his first year and were blown away by how well he took to the environment. His class had quickly became one of the more signed up for classes and he made sure that all of his students excelled.

The school didn’t hesitate to sign him on permanently after that first year.

Richie grabbed his coffee from the console and swung his door open, bumping it shut with his side once he was out.

His walk to the Fine Arts building was full of smiles and “Morning Mr Tozier.” He waved to each of them, occasionally calling something back to the students he knew.

Right as he was pulling the door to the building open a slender arm wrapped around his waist from behind him while another hand held a bagel in front of his face.

His eyes dropped down to the nails of the offender as he bit into the bagel and pulled it out of their hand. They were painted with every colour of the rainbow with bright neon paint. He only knew one person who pulled off something that matched his taste so exactly.

“Well, Ms Marsh, I really hope you didn’t just want to show me your breakfast because this bagel now belongs to me.” He stated as he bit out a large chunk and turned his head to look down at her.

“I’m all for sharing.” Bev said grabbing his wrist and pulling the bagel down to her mouth to take a bite. Keeping her arm around his waist she moved to walk beside him.

Beverly Marsh was one of Richie’s favourite parts of the school. She was a couple years older than him and one of the best artist he had ever met, as well as being one of the best people he had ever met. The two instantly clicked at the first department meeting during his first year and had basically been inseparable ever since.

“Are we still on for tonight.” She asked as they approached the door to Richie’s class, snatching Richie’s coffee and taking a sip.

“I’m never the one you have to convince to go out on Friday nights, Bev.” He replied, taking another large bite of bagel and grabbing his coffee back from her mouth.

She nodded as she turned to walk away.

“I’ll work on him. you need to add milk or something to that. It’s disgusting.” She called over her shoulder.

“It’s dark like my soul.” He yelled back as he watched her turn the corner laughing. He smiled after her and used his arm to pull open the door to his classroom.

The class was already full, most students talking among themselves. A few closer to the door had turned to listen to him and Beverly talking just outside.

Richie nodded and waved as he crossed the front of the room towards his desk. A few of the students responded with small smiles. He turned to look forward at his desk before he got halfway across the room, avoiding a certain set of eye’s that followed him as he walked.

As he sat at his desk he made the mistake of looking back into the crowd of students. As soon as he did his eyes were drawn to the front row, specifically to the student that sat directly in the center.

His name of Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie was pretty sure he had only taken the class to torture him.

As their eye’s met Richie saw the corner of Eddie’s lip rise into a smirk, his head tilting to the side as his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip.

Student crushes were nothing new to Richie. In fact, he started making a bet with Bev that a least one student in every one of his classes would develop one. So yeah he was pretty used to them.

Something about Eddie was completely different.

Most of the time they were wide-eyed freshmen who would turn away blushing as soon as Richie would look their way. Or they would say hi to him in the hallways and turn away giggling when he returned the greeting. Or stare at him dreamily while he taught at the front of the room.

Eddie did none of those things.

He would deliberately make eye contact whenever he could, and as soon as they would he would raise his eyebrow, almost like he was challenging Richie not to look away.

And most of the time, Richie didn’t want to.

Something about Eddie drew Richie to him. He had the deepest brown eyes and matching hair that was always perfectly in place. Honestly, that was a pretty good word to describe Eddie as a whole. Perfect. Everything from how he was always on time to class, to his basically perfect grades, to the soft sweaters he always wore and the shorts that most would consider too short but Richie couldn’t help but appreciate. Especially the way they showed off his-

No Richie. Bad. A voice that sounded uncannily like Stan’s rang through his head.

Richie shook his head, breaking the spell that always overtook him whenever he found himself staring at the younger boy and cleared his throat, standing as he addressed the class.

“Mornin’. Everyone get into your groups; you all know the drill.” He turned towards the computer on his desk and powered it on, while the students shuffled around and rearranged desks.

Friday’s were Richie’s favourite day for a few reasons.

Number one – weekends were awesome, duh.

Number two – Fridays were basically the only day that there was a chance that Stan would come out with him and Bev. Richie and Stan had been best friends since they were young, despite the three-year age difference and Richie loved him like a brother but he could be a pretty big stick in the mud sometimes.

And thirdly – he only taught three classes on Friday and all three of those were discussions classes where the students would get into groups and discuss the short film that they would watch the class before.

Not that Richie minded talking at the front of the class for nearly two hours. 

His mom had always said he had a gift for talking for long periods of time without shutting up. but with the discussion class, he found that that was when the students, as well as himself, learned the most. Students that would normally never talk bouncing idea’s and thoughts off of each other was one of Richie’s favourite things about teaching Film Studies.

He turned on the projector that was connected to his computer and walked to the front of the class as the sounds of moving students started to settle.

He reached up to pull the cord attached to the projector screen down as the projector blinked on. Turning to face the class he pointedly avoided looking at the front row as the discussion questions appeared behind him.

“For today, I want each of you to individually take notes on what your group talks about and hand them in at the end of class.” Richie shifted his eye’s around the room at the general look of displeasure that erupted on the faces of his students.

“I know it sucks, you can’t just rely on one person to do all the work today.” Richie pouted his lip exaggeratedly and saw some of the looks turn to half smiles.

“I just wanna try something different today. hell, I might not even like all the extra reading I just gave myself and scrap the idea after today.” Richie knew that wasn’t true. He loved reading the opinions of his students. it was amazing how many different versions of a main idea the students could come up with from a short film that one of Bev’s friends made about Apples.

“Now, let the discussions begin.” He threw his arms out exaggeratedly and yell like he was at some kind of car race. A couple of students let out small laughs and the majority had lost the displeased look in favour of smiles or the occasional eye roll.

As the groups started their discussions, Richie walked back to his desk and grabbed his half drank coffee and headed towards the back of the class to listen in on one of the groups.

He slowly moved from group to group, aware of the gaze that followed him as he made his way to the front.

He took a deep breath before heading towards the group closest to the front. He stood behind one of the students, something Denbrough, he thought as he listened to what one of the girls in the group as saying about plot points, trying his hardest to ignore the look currently being burned into the side of his face.

He made a few comments and the group turned to listen to him and a few scribbled down some notes. He went to leave the group as another one of the students took the lead and the rest shifted to look at them, all but one.

He stopped just past Eddie’s seat and dropped the volume of his voice.

“Shouldn’t you be paying attention Mr Kaspbrak.” He raised his eyebrow as he looked down and the two meet eyes for the first time since the begin on class.

“Sorry Professor Tozier, something just caught my eye.” He smiled up at him and pushed his paper more into Richie’s view. “Don’t worry, I still have plenty of notes for you.”

Richie’s eyes moved from Eddie’s to look at the page and it was full of impressively neat handwriting, which Richie honestly had no clue when he had found the time to write them through all the staring that he had been doing all class.

Richie nodded slowly without saying anything else and walked towards his desk, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He looked up at the clock above the door when he reached his desk. There were five minutes until the end of class and Richie decided to call it.

“Okay, so I want everyone to drop off their papers on my desk and then you can get out here. Have a good weekend.” He smiled and sat down, shifting around some of the papers already on the desk to make room.

By the time the clock read 11 Richie had a small stack of paper on the corner of his desk and only two students remained in the class. the Denbrough kid and of course, Eddie.

They were talking as they approached Richie’s desk. Bill, Richie was pretty sure that was his name, put his page down and continued talking, briefly smiling and waving at Richie as he turned towards the door.

Eddie stood in front of the desk for a few seconds more than strictly necessary. He smiled down at Richie as he carefully placed his page on top of Bill’s.

“Have a good weekend Professor.”  Eddie said in a low voice, his eyes dropping down from Richie’s eyes to his lips before turning and running after Bill, who hadn’t noticed Eddie wasn’t still right beside him.

Richie sighed and rubbed the side of his face, shifting in his seat and looking down at the pages.

Eddie’s writing really was something. He grabbed the paper and glanced over some of the things he had written. His eyes fell to the bottom of the page where a little note was written inside of a box.

‘Sorry about being distracted Sir. If you want me to come back after hours to make up for it, I’d be happy to.’

“Good lord.” Richie muttered to himself and swallowing a lump in his throat as he grabbed the rest of the papers, stuffed them into his bag and stood. He headed out of the room and down the hall towards the Visual Arts section of the building. He needed someone to remind him why sleeping with students was a bad idea because he was starting to forget.

And he knew exactly who to go to.


Tag List 

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Masterpost of Miraculous Ladybug Holiday/Christmas Fanfictions

TOP FICS:

As the Snow Fall, Falls by: @pisces-royalty
One-shot. Marichat. Ladynoir. FORMATTING DREAM. MUST READ ON COMPUTER.: He watches her in a midnight dream: twirling, twirling, a brilliant red star before the moon. A smile on her face, she dances along with the snow as it falls, falls.And he has to wonder, Why do you dance?

Secret Santa by: @thelastpilot
Multi-chapter. MAJOR Adrienette. Reveal. Best World Building Award: Adrien and Marinette get each others name in their class secret santa and the gifts have to be perfect.

OTHER RECS: 
Bring In The Bug
 by: @giggling-bubble
One-shot, Ladynoir: A night out in the cold takes a turn for the worst when Ladybug’s body shuts down in the extreme cold. What is a cat to do for his lady, but to take her to his favorite place in all the world. Sure, taking her there had it’s risk, but with the way the decor was this time of year, she’d never notice.

Late Night Health Check by: @the-bored-bookworm
One-shot, Marichat. Post-reveal. Relationship: Winter is a beautiful time to have fun. If you’re not sick that is.

A Lucky Decision by: @their-destinys-writer
One-shot, Ladrien. Fluff: He still wasn’t sure how they got there. Was it the result of the decisions made that day, or was it just miraculous luck? Either way, his brain barely processed it. All he knew was that ditching his bodyguard to go for a walk on his own around the streets of Paris was the best decision he made that day.

Christmas Run by: @their-destinys-writer
One-shot, DJWifi, fluff: Why did he let himself be dragged around the cold streets of Paris after an akuma? And on Christmas Eve to boot?! He could be home right now, eating a nice, warm Christmas Eve leftover. But nooo, Alya wanted to test the new microphone she got for her livestreams, and she needed help. And who was her go-to-guy for tech help? This guy right here.

The Sweetest Gift by: @wow-girl1244
One-shot, Adrienette. Sadrien: A cozy night might be just what these two teens need.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED: Something about December by: @adribug
One-shot, through the years, Adrienette: Five times Marinette gave Adrien a Christmas gift and one time she didn’t.

Shake Up Christmas
One-shot. Ladrien, Partial-Reveal: A belated gift delivery turns into midnight hot chocolate. Ladybug’s embarrassed, Adrien’s a smitten kitten, and the holiday season is a time for memories new and old.

The Perfect Gift by: @baneismydragon
One-shot. LoveSquare. Reveal. Mistletoe fic: It’s Adrien’s second christmas with his friends and he is determined to get them all the best Christmas gifts he can, but in and out of costume. Of course this is proving a little difficult as Chat Noir has yet to discover a gift that will impress his princess. However in his quest to find Marinette the perfect gift he might just discover a little more than he bargained for!

What To Expect From A Superhero Christmas
One-shot. Ladynoir. Reveal: It’s just two dorks having a nice Christmas Eve together, and a bit of a reveal. I’m sorry if there was meant to be a plot, you get this instead. Pure fluff.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED: It’s the Most Punderful Time of the Year by: @baneismydragon
One-shot, Ladynoir, Adrienette: “Come on my lady, give me a chance? One kiss. We can call it a Christmas Miracle.” He hoped his voice didn’t sound as desperately pathetic to her as it did to him.  “Ok, you want a Christmas Miracle?” she asked, giving him a serious once over, “If you can come up with one of your horrible puns that actually makes me laugh between now and Christmas eve, I will kiss you.”  “Are you serious?” he gasped.  “Yep.”  “That’s it? Just make you laugh?” he ask, waiting for some sort of impossible catch.
“With a pun.” Ah. There it was.

Here From The Beginning by: @ash-is-boss and @whateverwonder
One-shot, Aged Up!Adrienette. Post-Victory. Post-Kwami: Marinette is stuck in the dorms for Christmas break, but so is a certain blonde.

Everything and Nothing by: @adjit 
One-shot. Post-Reveal. Adrienette: Marinette and Adrien’s identity reveal has landed them in an awkward spot, but they’re far from avoiding one another, despite everything. Both are awkward and hesitant, but the snowy rooftops of Paris and Christmas might be just what they need.

Fermeture by: @karmahope
One-shot. Post-Superhero Life. Aged up!Adrienette. Sad Mari: The hardest part of being a superhero is no longer being a superhero. It’s been five years since Marinette last saw Tikki; since she last saw Chat Noir; and she can’t take it anymore. A reunion/reveal fic.

The Present by: @kidstealth
One-Shot, Christmas Mistletoe fic. Adrienette: It was the very smile that she had been hoping to see when she originally came up with the idea to make him a present on her birthday. Now she has finally seen it directed at her and she could help the grin the broke out on her face.

New Year’s Challenge: Sequel to The Present by: @kidstealth
One-shot. Can stand alone. Adrienette. NYE: The challenge was just the thing Adrien needed to give him the drive to do what needed to be done. He wasn’t going to leave his best friend hung out to dry just because he couldn’t ask a simple question.

Something about December by: @runningoutofink
One-shot. Aged Up!Adrienette. Post-Reveal.: The first steps into adulthood are difficult, especially if you consider all you left behind.

The Countdown to Christmas by: @ramenrulz8p
Multi-chapter. Love square: Marinette and Adrien decide to partake in a Christmas confessions event along with their friends. Chat asks Marinette to help him buy Ladybug a gift. When the vlogger who’s hosting it gets turned into an akuma, Chat Noir and Ladybug are asked play match maker. Adrien may or may not have just ruined his chances with Ladybug.