i spent the most time on the first one and it was good practice

Bon Voyage S2 Ep.8 - BTS’ letters to each other

YOONGI → SEOKJIN

“To. Jinjinjara, Seokjin-hyung!!

It’s your forever roommate, Suga.

Can you believe I have known you for 7 years… I remember when I met you for the first time. I’m surprised and amazed that the one who used to look so upright and kind… has become very bright and cheerful these days. I believe it’s because you’re with us. It seems like just yesterday you were nervous and not confident when you had to sing and perform on stage, but seeing your performance these days makes me think you sing really well. It’s no doubt the result of working hard for a long time. Even though I have been watching you for a long time, it still touched me how you secretly work hard to make up what you lack in. I thought of you as a hyung whom I have a lot to learn from. Let’s keep going together for a long time in the future too.

P.S: But I hope you can act your age.”

SEOKJIN → JUNGKOOK

“To. JK

Hi JK, it’s hyung.

I’m always thankful to you. Thanks for having the same mental age as this 26-year-old hyung. And traveling with you this time made me feel this once again. Your fists are really strong. I will be good to you, don’t hit me, got it? And your face got tanned a lot. As I’m your hyung I’ll give you facial masks when we get back to Korea. Calm your skin and yourself as well, stop lying on my bed. You keep lying on my bed when I’m not there and send me your selfies. If you do that one more time, your face may have got tanned in Hawaii, but I’ll throw you into the fire pit in Korea. And by “fire pit” I mean my firey heart. You can come into my big embrace. Thanks for always becoming our team’s teacher and energizer. To Jungkook who’s kind and handsome and strong and has nice body and big eyes and sings well and dances well, I love you.”

JUNGKOOK → NAMJOON

“To. Namjoonie-hyung

Hi hyung, it’s our team’s maknae, Jungkook.

I’m not the type to write letters often so I don’t know where to start, but I’ll try this time. This is something I always think about every day, but I really am inspired a lot by our team. Although I’m inspired by all 7 members, but I’m especially inspired the most by you. I always want to do a lot of things but can’t stick to them long, like how you guys always joke with me. But gradually, it feels like I really became that kind of person. When you work, talk about music, compose or speak in English, I feel like I grew a sense of confidence and passion. I know it must be tired for you, but please keep showing me your that cool side of yours in the future. I will keep following you from behind. You are a really awesome person.”

TAEHYUNG → JIMIN

“To Jimin.

Hi Jimin.

It cringes me a little to write a serious letter to you like this, but I’ll try. Hope you understand. When we were trainees, we came to Seoul without knowing anything. We would wake up, put on uniforms, go to school together, eating together after school ends, go to the practice room together, go back to the dorm together, and chat together at night. 6 years passed and unknowingly, you have become my dearest precious friend. There was a time before we debuted when you were anxious because of the debut. I had a meeting with the company at that time. They asked me “What would it be if Jimin was on the team?”. After thinking for a while, I said, “There’s no one who’s by my side when I’m tired or happy to laugh and cry with me but Jimin. I hope such a friend could be by my side. I want us to debut together.” It felt good to say that. I’m happy that we was able debut together and make lots of good memories. And sorry, because I’m always the one who take. Even know, you still cry with me when I cry in the bathroom, laugh with me when we sneak out at dawn, care about me and think of me, work hard because of me and understand me, listen to my worries, liking someone who’s lacking so much like me. Let’s keep walking together on the flower path for a long time. I love you, my friend.”

NAMJOON → TAEHYUNG

“Taehyung-ah.

So my first letter is to you. I have mixed emotions. Like the pebbles on the beach we saw in Hawaii, it’s hard to pick out what I want to say to you. Maybe it’s because we’re cherishing so many memories and so many moments like the sea we saw? I thought of the time when I first met you. Seeing you following your father, roaming around the dorm with big eyes and pouty lips, I already felt it from first sight. “This kid will be a rascal”. I remember how anxious you were before we debuted. Your unique and strange character is so vague that I sometimes questioned what’s in you that helped you endure all the way here. But as time passes and I mature more, I learned that even I, who I myself thought was the most normal, am quite strange and unique like an alien. I was drawn by your strangeness. Sometimes I really envy you. Because you can get close easily to anyone and everyone likes you. Your strangeness proved to be your unique charm. It may sound cringeworthy, but as a friend, a hyung who have been with you from the beginning of your trainee journey to now, I wanted to say thank you to you. Thank you for not becoming a farmer, not playing saxophone and came to Big Hit instead. Let’s keep up the good work. Fighting.”

HOSEOK → YOONGI

“To. My bro Suga
From. J-hope

Hi hyung? It’s Hoseok.

Without realizing, we have been together for 7 years, including our trainee days. When I first moved to the dorm, I was awkward and unfamiliar with everything, so I only stayed in the living room, but you came and talk to me first, helped me relax. I still can’t forget that time. You were like the savior to me, a Gwangju kid. Always by my side when I’m hurt, always by my side when I’m sad. You’re always there to support me and become my strength when I’m tired or exhausted. When I was tired from seasickness in Bon Voyage 2 this time, the first one I saw after opening my eyes was you. I couldn’t say then but I was really grateful to you. Through this letter and this chance, I want to tell you again that my gratitude to you is as great as the time we spent together. Hyung, thank you for becoming a member of BTS, thank you for becoming my dependable brother. Please keep staying by my side forever. I love my bro.”

JIMIN → HOSEOK

“To. Hoseokie-hyung

This wasn’t my first letter to you so I thought it wouldn’t be hard, but it was indeed not easy. I’m nervous. You’re the one whom I talk and share a lot with so think you’ll know well what I think and what I want to say. What do I think when I see you? “This person is really truthful and sincere”, “This person is really upright and kind”. You are probably the first one that made me understand a person can become this cool just by being truthful and sincere. As your brother and fellow member, I have a lot to learn from you. I wanted to tell you that I know you are always working hard to take care of us and I’m always sincerely thankful to you. Thank you, hyung. I hope you can take care of your body and stop worrying too much. To my hyung who I’m always thankful for, I love you.”

hey guys! i’ve noticed lately that a lot of gifsets/edits of moana, especially pastel ones, have been whitewashing her skin, and i know that this isn’t just a problem in moana gifs, so i thought it might be a good idea to make a comprehensive guide on how to avoid whitewashing poc/color poc in general. this guide will be split into three parts: vibrant gifs, pastel gifs, and dark gifs (any of the tips i give for gifs can be applied to edits as well – it’s even easier to avoid whitewashing poc in edits, because you can color it normally and then erase the lightening layers over the person’s skin).

so, without any further ado, here we go!

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A cage of golden glass

Synopsis: There was you. An ordinary human girl, wrong place, wrong time. Then there was Loki. God of Mischief, war criminal. When Thor brings you to Asgard to ensure your safety, there is nobody else you come to hate more passionately than his evil foster brother. Then Odin finally decides on a new and much more effective kind of punishment for Loki, causing your whole world to fall apart. He would simply marry him off to a mortal, someone who is, by all means, “beneath” him. You.

Pairing: Loki x Reader
Rating: M
Chapter: 1/1 (Oneshot)
Words: 7217
Warnings: smut, forced marriage

Read it on AO3!

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Nothing More [ I ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst

Length: 6.8k

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Summary: Watching the man you love love someone else was the most painful feeling in the world.

Nothing More Masterlist

Originally posted by progamerbyun

The rain fell just loud enough for you to hear, the skies a beautiful but somber grey and the world feeling otherwise silent. The birds weren’t chirping. The neighborhood seemed empty. It was just you. You and your empty apartment and your thoughts. The all consuming thoughts that made the silence seem so loud. His voice just kept replaying in your head, like the soundtrack to the otherwise quiet moment.

“I think she’s the one.”

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How to learn a new language FAST!

Hi guys! Recently people have been asking me how come I am fluent in so many languages. And although I find this compliment to be very flattering, I do feel the urge to share my best tips with you guys. So I speak around 6 languages, but I am completely fluent in English, Croatian and Italian which always seem to interest people the most. Learning a new language does take time, but hopefully with these tips, you will be able to do it a lot faster!

1. START OUT BY LEARNING A LANGUAGE CLOSE TO YOUR OWN

For instance, if you are from Spanish speaking area, you might want to start off by learning Portuguese or Italian since all those languages have a similar sound and sentence structure. This way learning process might go a bit faster.

2. BE CONSISTENT

For best results, try leaving out at least 10 minutes or so every day to do something in that language. It can be something as simple as listening a song, even listening someone speak. Just be consistent and I promise you, you will find yourself understanding the language algorithm in no time.

3. LISTEN TO OTHER PEOPLE SPEAK

It literally doesn’t matter if you understand or have no idea what the heck are they talking about. When I first started learning Italian, I just spent hours watching one Italian movie after the other and God knows I didn’t understand a thing, but I begin to understand the way they formed the sentences and noticed the way they repeated same words but in different context. This is a very important tip because every language has that part that can not be translated, nor explained, only understood by Italian speakers. So just find youtubers, movies or podcasts in language you want to learn and take our dictionary with you and listen.

4. LEARN A FEW WORDS EVERY DAY

It’s not that hard, really. There are also app to help you (such as Duolingo). Pick a few words and think of a way to make a sentence out of that word. Then try turning that word in an adverb and then try using that in a sentence. For instance, if you were to learn English and your word of choice was ‘beautiful’ use it first as an adjective: “This apple is beautiful.” Then use it as an adverb: “She drew his portrait beautifully.” This way you will learn a few words that go together and be closer to understanding the language structure. Also, start simple. start off by learning the most common and the simplest everyday sentences.

5. SPEAK

It doesn’t matter if you’re bad or lacking words, just speak. It is important to use what you’ve learned and practice it. Find someone to speak with. Internet is a huge place and you will find someone to speak with you. Even better if you find a native speaker (who knows, maybe they come to your town as a tourist?) since they will probably be willing to correct your mistakes and you will learn something from them.

6. WRITE

This goes with the previous one. If you don’t have anyone to speak with, then write. You will practice your vocabulary and challenge yourself to learn the words that are missing to form a good sentence.

7. DO NOT FOCUS ON GRAMMAR

Grammar will come, focus on vocabulary first. Grammar will come as you begin understanding the language itself. So it takes time, but listen to songs, watch movies and try reading books in that language.

8. HAVE FUN

Enjoy yourself. Learning a new language is such a noble thing to do. You will have your mind so much more open and you will be richer for another experience.

Also, if you need help with anything, I will be more than glad to help you. My askbox is always open. 

Good luck.

BTS replaced you. - pt.2

[pt.1] [pt.2] [pt.3] [pt.END]


Originally posted by fairybcby

After the conversation we shared I muted the conversation, there was nothing I wanted to hear anymore and nothing I wanted to do but sleep. I was curious of what they had to say, if anything at all but at the same time I didn’t want to know because they probably don’t think it’s a big deal they’ve missed my birthday three years in a row. I sat at my dining room table, staring at the candlelit cake in front of me. It was their favourite, strawberry flavour and just looking at it reminded me of them and how they won’t be here again to share this too large cake for one with me.

For so long I believed that we were best friends, that we were inseparable and nothing or no one could come between the friendship we shared because we had been through so much with one another. But I was wrong. They let her get between us. I don’t want to be a selfish brat that I’m seeming to be, but they just forgot me so easily after spending a week with her, wouldn’t that hurt you? They used to be the first people to say happy birthday to me, even if they were away they’d never forget to FaceTime me at 12am - but this year, even though we were supposed to celebrate, they didn’t call at 12, they didn’t send me a text. Because they forgot, and they left me waiting for them like a fool standing outside the restaurant in the winter cold holding my own birthday cake. They promised. They promised that they were going to celebrate with me this year for sure, they even made sure they had no schedule clashes today so that we could celebrate, but just like that they forgot and I was replaced with someone new, someone better.

People looked at me funny, people who walked into the restaurant, had their meal and came back out to see me still standing there alone - they all looked at me with pity in their eyes. ‘That girl must’ve got stood up’ must be what they were all thinking. Yeah I was stood up by my seven best friends. The entire week they’ve been hanging out, the entire week they’ve dismissed me. ‘If it was important we would have remembered’ ‘Clearly wasn’t all that important’, that hurt to say the least, it only told me how much I didn’t mean to them, making it clear to me that they don’t need me in their lives anymore because they have someone new, someone that let’s them have the personal space that they needed and I understood now. I was only ever thinking of myself and what I wanted. Maybe they didn’t forget, maybe this was their way to tell me that our friendship is over. 

I blew out the candle without making a wish, wishes don’t come true. I’ve wished for the same thing the last two years and each following year I end up getting disappointed. I crawled into bed and went to sleep, eyes slightly wet from crying. But a few hours later, I heard my phone ring; I picked up without even checking the caller ID. 

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anonymous asked:

If you wanna write a ficlet based on the tags you put about Derek not being good at receiving compliments so stiles compliments him always I can guarantee you that I will 100% read it and reblog it and comment about how much I love it :D

Well how can I resist that??


The first time it happened, Stiles didn’t think anything of it. Standing over the smoldering remains of the creature that just tried to kill them, he said “nice job”, gave Derek a friendly slap on the back, and suggested they go out for celebratory we didn’t die today milkshakes. He was pleasantly surprised when Derek both agreed and paid, and he dipped fries in both to see if they went better with his strawberry or Derek’s chocolate.

(The answer was chocolate, and Derek didn’t even get mad when three of Stiles’ fries were lost in his shake.)

The second time, he was marveling at the obscure text Derek managed to track down and said, “dude, you are literally the best, I’m buying you pizza!” And shockingly, Derek let him, and even told him what toppings he wanted. That might not seem like much in the grand scheme of things, but Stiles had spent years watching in silent judgment as Derek picked off half the toppings from the pizzas he ordered for the pack, as if he couldn’t get another for himself that he actually liked.

Stiles told him he liked the way he rearranged the loft, and Derek sat through the entire extended edition of The Fellowship of the Ring on his new flat screen.

When he mentioned liking the fancy pasta dish Derek made and asked for a lesson to make it, Derek agreed. He showered compliments on Derek’s meticulous overhaul of the bestiary and Derek let him borrow three books.

Derek never let anyone borrow his books, they never left the loft.

These events were all spread out enough that it took a while to click, but when it did, it was both a revelation and incredibly depressing: Derek had no idea what to do with even the most casual of compliments.

Sarcasm was no issue, Stiles knew that much—he’d personally thrown out enough nice martyr complex, jackass and the like to figure that out—but anything that was even remotely sincere?

He started paying attention after that, to the way Derek would stiffen and his eyes would widen a bit before his face closed off again. He would go quiet, maybe nod, and quickly agree to pretty much anything just to get the focus back off himself.

Because Derek was actually embarrassed by compliments.

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anonymous asked:

so, um. if you have any particular feelings about labyrinth--specifically Sarah--uh, go wild.

WILD PEACHES  [AO3]

.

The morning after Sarah Williams defeats the Goblin King, she gets up and makes toast. She has to brush some glitter off the toaster—it withers and vanishes at the brush of her fingertips, and she stares at her hand for a long time. 

It mostly just looks like her hand. Even when she turns it over, and sees where she scraped her knuckles against the oubliette, where the shattered mirror cut the back of her wrist. It looks like she fell, or was playing in the street. That’s all.

The toast comes out burned, and Sarah stares at that too. Eventually, she slumps down against the cabinets and cries, wracking sobs that send her dad and Karen rushing into kitchen. They check her forehead for a fever, put their hands on her, and keep asking, “Are you okay? Sarah, please, tell us what’s wrong…”

Eventually, her dad drags her into his lap and cradles her against his chest, like he did when she was little. Her legs are too long to really fit anymore, but Sarah hugs him around the neck anyway. “It’ll be okay,” he says, keeps saying. “You’ll be okay.” And Sarah—doesn’t laugh, because she can’t, and doesn’t have the words to express what—how—

(None of her stories ever talked about this. What did Sir George do, the morning after he slayed the last dragon in England? Did Tam Lin eat breakfast, or did he sit there, shivering, wondering if his hands were different, having been claws and wings and scales?)

Afterwards, she leaves the burnt toast outside on the back porch. Not an offering. Maybe a reminder.

.

It’s Didymus she sees the most often, mostly because he’s the one who invites himself rather than waiting for an invitation. He comes for tea, but even if there’s no tea—which there isn’t, usually—he comes to tell Sarah stories. She learns to love poetry because there’s no escaping it with him. (She won’t read Idylls of the King until Brit Lit in college, but she ends up scrawling a lot in the margins; Didymus’ telling of events had been much more interesting.)

Once, she falls asleep like that, her hands tucked behind her head with Didymus curled up and sleepily reciting from the crook of her elbow. “So tender was her voice, so fair her face—though I don’t think he was looking at her face, my lady, pardon me for saying so—”

Sarah buries her nose in his fur. Didymus always smells of rosewater, and a crispness she thinks is just…the Labyrinth. She falls asleep trying to place it.

She wakes up with a wild fox in her bed, animal-black eyes frightened and flat, teeth bared. The fox is whining, and she’s tempted to throw herself across the room, to get away from this wild thing and its teeth. It takes a monumental will to keep herself still and her breathing slow, even; like she’s still asleep and unafraid. 

It takes her longer to swallow, and start humming one of the songs he taught her—a knight’s round, he’d said. She’s shaky at first, but the fox’s ears flick forward. It cocks its head, and slowly, the teeth disappear behind its lips. 

She almost laughs when noses at her throat curiously, butting its head against her jaw like a cat might.

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Oh Sehun//For Her

Summary: The first words you’ll hear your soulmate say are tattooed onto your skin from birth. You hear the words, but in the worst possible situation - he’s in love with your close friend. 
Scenario: Soulmate AU, angst, fluff
Word Count: 5,746

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know it all — p.p.

summary : may parker can’t fathom that you and her nephew aren’t dating yet- she can’t wait forever, you know, and she knows it’s going to happen eventually. when has may ever been wrong?

word count : 3k

author’s note : long time no see?? LOL sophomore year is successfully kicking my ass but i wrote this and it’s semi long so?? 

   May Parker prides herself on a lot of things- namely, her stunning resilience in the face of immense adversity, and the way she just seems to know things. She can’t help it, it’s her not so lame superpower and she uses it on Peter all the time, much to his annoyance. She earns a roll of the eyes whenever she says something out of the blue, so profound Peter can’t help but contemplate its credibility for the hours that follow their interactions. She knows things, she does, and she knows that you and her nephew are as meant to be as her and Ben were- are, she chastises herself sometimes- and she knows it so truly in the deepest recesses of her heart that the fact that you and Peter aren’t together is something that goes right over her head. 

   “Peter, hon, when’s your girl coming over? I miss having other ladies in the house,” she says one day, interrupting the silence that had settled upon the pair  as Peter recited the periodic table of elements so naturally in his head in preparation for a quiz the following day. Peter loses track somewhere between lithium and beryllium or maybe it was phosphorus, he doesn’t know anymore, when he hears May call you that, his girl, and he shakes his head at her wildly. “What? What’d I say?” May points her wooden spoon at him, and Peter’s reminded that she’s Italian for the fifth time that day. 

   “May, she’s not- she’s not my, like, girlfriend,” he stresses each syllable the word carries, practically throwing his pencil across the table when he turns his chair to get a better view of his aunt as she prepares dinner- pasta, again, because she claims it’s the only thing she can’t possibly mess up. “You know that! Y/N’s been my best friend forever.” 

    “You realize you can be best friends with your girlfriend, don’t you?” Peter can sense May’s eyes rolling even though he can’t see her since she’s facing the stove with her back turned. “You two have definitely kissed. You can’t tell me you haven’t.” 

    Peter’s entire face feels hot when she says that, his hands clammy when he presses them together against his cheeks, placing his elbows on the table to prop his head up. “That’s embarrassing, May. Why would you ever ask me that?” He runs his hands through his hair and the gel is so terribly packed on it that the carefully prepared hairstyle comes undone with one swift movement. “We haven’t, in case you’re wondering, which I know you are because you’re nosy.” Peter feels the spoon lightly poke into his back, a playful warning. 

   “Anyways,” May continues loudly, “as I was saying before, your girlfriend should come over for dinner sometime this week. I’m making pasta.” She grins before placing a bowl of penne in front of Peter, his least favorite pasta shape. Peter scowls at the penne but picks up his fork anyway and shoves some in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully for a moment before giving May a thumbs up. At least she was proud of it. “I won’t make penne if you get her to come over.” 

    She knows she’s got him when she sees the slow, unsure nod start. He sticks his hand out, and May shakes it happily. “Only because of the penne. I want bowties. Please,” he gives his aunt his best, brightest, sweetest smile he can form, much like the ones that come so naturally when he turns his gaze to look at you- but May won’t bring that up just yet. “And don’t make girlfriend jokes in front of her.” His utensil stabs into the pasta as he thinks to himself, ‘cause if you keep it up in front of her, she’ll think I’m a weirdo and I’ll never genuinely get to call Y/N that, ever. Honestly, he’d much rather launch himself headfirst off of the Empire State Building than never get to experience kissing you, holding your hand, being with you in all those sorts of hopelessly romantic ways that he daydreams about regularly. He’s doing it again, slipping into that endless reverie he always seems to find himself lost in. But it’s okay. His mind is a chasm of soft loves and sweet words shared between the two of you. It’s a beautiful, long mess of a dream. 

   “You lost, Pete?” May snaps her fingers in front of his face, bemused. 

    “A little,” he sighs in that dreamy tone she recalls her own self indulging in so fondly in her younger years. His gaze becomes hazy again, like he’s on another plane entirely, but she lets him be. For now. 


    Peter knows he’s dressing up a little too much for just a friend. He’s spraying too much strong cologne and gelling his hair excessively and praying you won’t notice the fact that it’ll be dryer than the leaves in the wintertime, but it’s all too much for someone he insists is his best friend and his best friend alone, nothing more and nothing less, certainly not his girlfriend. Never that, right? Peter frowns at his reflection and tilts his head down, rubbing his head in attempt to remove most of the gel that had been a serious mistake in the first place. You preferred his hair curly, anyway. Not that he cared. Not in the slightest. He puts on the sweater that you once said looked lovely on him and he wears his nice jeans, the ones without that stupid hole near the butt cheek that you can’t really see unless you’re trying

   His cheeks flush when May gives a tiny, satisfied smirk upon seeing his perfectly put together outfit. He acts as if no time at all was spent on his appearance, but she knows him, like she knows everything else, and she knows that he’s been holed up in the bathroom for over twenty minutes now trying to see which shirt matched his eyes best and debating the chances of you realizing that this was the sweater you liked the most on him before he put it on and beamed at himself in the mirror. Maybe it was the color or the stitching or the fabric but he was starting to like this one much more, too. 

   “You look very handsome, sweets,” May says to him, squeezing his shoulder as she brushes past him to place a salad on the table. Peter surveys the salad with a strange look on his face. 

   “Why’d you make a salad? Since when does Y/N eat salad?” He raises his eyebrows at her, before adding with haste, “not that I don’t love your salad, Aunt May, ‘cause I do. I promise.”  

   Aunt May places her hands on her hips, peering at him through the tops of her glasses in a way that makes her look too wise for someone as young as she was. “I’m making a good impression, obviously.” 

   “You’ve known her for like ten years now, the time for good impressions is over, May. You missed your chance.”

   “This is the first time I’m seeing Y/N as your girlfriend, though!” Peter lets out the loudest groan imaginable, running his hands over his cheeks and slapping his forehead with great vexation. 

   “Still not my girlfriend,” he insists on insisting, taking the extra plates out of her busy hands and helping to set the small kitchen table. 

   May smooths back a loose strand of hair from his forehead with a kind, teasing grin on her face. “Doesn’t mean you don’t want her to be, kiddo.” 

   He can’t possibly argue with that sort of logic, especially not when his aunt hits the nail right on the head in that peculiar way she has a habit of doing, so he just smiles and kisses May on the cheek. There’s a knock on the door less than a second later, and the pair scramble for the upper hand before Peter beats her to it and nearly flies to grab the handle of it and yank it open so he can greet you accordingly, slightly out of breath with his hair flopping to one quite nicely and a joyous smile making its way across his mouth when he sees you for the first time that day. May hovers earnestly behind him, hands fluttering over her nephew’s shoulders so she can push past him to wrap you in a hug if need be. Sometimes Peter has the impression that May adores you even more than he does; he wasn’t sure if he should be glad for that, or a bit offended that you seemed to return the blatant favoritism with ardency. 

   There was a brief second where your eyes raked over your best friend’s face with soft admiration, hidden as carefully as you could manage. When you met his appreciative gaze you felt the palms of your hands clam up and so you cast your look back to his aunt and playfully pushed past him to give her a hug. 

   Peter, offense overriding his previously somewhat moonstruck expression, backed away from you when you finally turned toward him with your arms outstretched. “Oh, now I get a hug? Interesting,” he rolls his eyes in a teasing manner, unable and unwilling to conceal his little, loving smile that appeared when you pried his arms off his chest and defiantly wrapped them around yourself as you hugged him. “Didn’t seem so interested in hugging me when you were shoving me away to get to May,” he says, craning his neck to stare at you whilst continuing to drag the embrace out for as long as possible. 

   “You’re still my favorite Parker,” you reply, poking his chest lightly. Then you turn away before you can say anything else that could be considered too revealing of certain, carefully concealed feelings that had the possibility of being detrimental to a beautiful friendship that had manifested over the years into something more, but not quite, not yet. “Sort of,” you put as an afterthought, lest he get any ideas about you feeling… something for him. “Anyways, what’s for dinner, May?” You anticipate pasta, and when May announces the dish with a great flourishing of her hand, you grin. Typical, yes, but nothing if not welcomed. 

  Peter, gentleman that he is, pulls out your chair for you, and you let yourself imagine that he’s doing it as a chivalrous boyfriend and not simply a polite friend. He imagines the same, though. Imagines that he’s on a date with you and he pulls out your chair and smiles kindly and lovingly- and he basks in this image for as long as he can. May calls you over then, and the daydream is shattered. You make your way over to her in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. 

   May lowers her voice before speaking, “Y/N, I’m gonna need you to explain something to me,” she starts. You nod, raising your eyebrows at her. “Explain why you and Peter aren’t together yet. Honestly, honey, I just can’t understand it.” She talks with her hands the way Peter does. 

   “Uh- what? I, um, I don’t… understand?” Your voice cracks a little, as if having May practically shove your less than friendly feelings for Peter back in your face wasn’t embarrassing enough. “We’re, um, you know, like, friends.” 

   Her hand waves dismissively, pushing that sentence away. “No, no, see that’s what he said, too! I have to disagree. I know everything, kiddo, and I know that you two are going to make it as a couple, so if that’s what your afraid of, don’t be. Go for it. I see the same thing in him that I see in you right now, and that thing is love. So, I’m going to need you to go make my nephew the happiest kid on Earth and tell him you’re falling in love with him, and you’ll see that he’s going to say the same thing to you. Trust me. Aunt May knows all,” she shrugs in a casual manner, brushing her confidence off, before she steers you around and gently pushes you back toward the tiny dining room table where Peter sits awkwardly fiddling with his thumbs with his lip caught between his teeth. 

   “Hi,” you almost whisper, settling down in your seat across from him. 

   He glances up. “Hey,” he says, smiling again. A reflex, in your presence. He clears his throat, then asks, “So, what’d you and May talk about?” He knows May loves him as if he were her son, which for all intents and purposes he is, but he can’t be sure of her secrecy. He wouldn’t put it past his aunt to let slip “accidentally” that he liked you, loved you, cared for you. 

   You take a sip of your glass of water that Peter must have filled in your absence from the table. You had a tendency to take sips of your drink when in uncomfortable conversations, or conversations you felt nervous in. He notes that. “Oh, um, nothing really… but if were gonna talk about it, I’d wanna do it in, like, private?” You twirl your straw around your drink, mixing the ice in the glass. Peter abruptly stands from his chair. You watch him sling a jacket around his shoulders and throw one of his sweaters at you, which you catch easily. “You wanna go now?” 

   He nods, licking his lips anxiously. “No better time than the present, right?” If you’re going to confront him and crush his heart with a single sentence that stands along the lines of I see you as a friend, he wants it done sooner rather than later. He wants it over with, so he can go back to his suffering in comfortable silence and start an attempt to move past this crush the way he had easily drifted away from his crush on Liz Allan. You fumble with the sweater as you stand. “May, we’re gonna step out for a bit!” Peter announces, opening the front door of his apartment and letting you slip out first. He doesn’t wait for her response before he disappears, too. May watches the two of you leave and feels her heart grow twice its size. 

  You’re standing outside the apartment building ten minutes later in the chilly autumn breeze, thankful for the cologne scented sweater that rests over your body like a warm blanket. Peter’s hands are never cold, and so they linger outside of his pockets as opposed to yours, shoved inside the front pocket of the sweater he’s given you. He reaches for your hands wordlessly and rubs them over his. “You’re always freezing,” he laughs quietly, lacing his fingers through yours with a new burst of confidence that you find endearing as you squeeze his hands. “Hey, wanna know something? You might know it already but, I figure I should tell you myself, if you wanna know.” He swings his hands back and forth, and yours swing along with his. 

   “Yeah, please,” you insist, twisting your head to the side to sweep the windswept hair out of your face. One of Peter’s hands comes up to brush it out of the way, typical and cliche and an overplayed move but none of that matters when the action is being carried out, because it makes your stomach constrict in that funny way and your heart melt into a puddle on the dirty sidewalk. His fingers linger over the softness of your cheek, and he keeps his hand there to see what you’ll say about it. You say nothing, let remain there. “You gonna tell me or not?” 

  “Should I- I could maybe…” he sucks on the bottom of his lip. “Forget it, I don’t know how to speak properly around you like this.” You start to protest, demand he tell you because you won’t be able to stop thinking about this if he doesn’t, but every word dies before it can touch the edge of your lips. Peter has his head lowered down toward you and he’s kissing you, a thought that’s crossed your mind more times than you were able to count but now, it’s happening. Real lips pressed against yours feverishly, shyness forgotten in the heat of the moment. When he pulls away first, it returns and collides with him as if he’s hit a brick wall, and his cheeks burn red. He makes no move to back away, still. “D-Did I step out of line? Was that okay? Do you hate me? ‘Cause if you do we can go back upstairs or you can leave and then on Monday we can pretend that this never happened because you’re still my best friend no matter what even if it’s awkward-” 

   Your hands clasp together around the back of his neck as you yank him down toward you again, and this time you kiss him back. You can feel him smiling so hard it makes it difficult to kiss him, but when you break away to tell him that, he just laughs and smiles harder and keeps kissing you. He doesn’t know how to stop now that’s he had the opportunity. You’re both laughing hysterically and trying to kiss properly and his nose bumps against yours repeatedly, and it’s the most perfect first kiss in the world. 

   He keeps his hand firmly grasped in yours when you go back upstairs to his seventh floor apartment, opens the door for you and everything. May is sitting at the table, turns her head to the both of you and peers at you from the top of her glasses. Peter raises his hand and yours, triumphant. May claps her hands together as he, your boyfriend, declares proudly, “Aunt May, I would like to formally introduce you to my girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, who I hope will be sticking around?” He looks to you for reassurance, and gets what he needs from the happy kiss you bestow upon the side of his face. 

   “I told you two I know everything!” Is what breaks the joyous silence, and then the laughter starts again; a perfectly lovely family. 

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naptime [loki]

you just want to nap with your favorite asgardian.

tagging: @redgillan, @mattymattymerduck, @avengerofyourheart, @wakandasoldier, @darlingbuchanan, @bemystucky, @idorkish, @iwillbeinmynest, @aubzylynn, @angryschnauzer, @almondbuttercup, @ipaintmelodies

warnings: just FLUFF

additional notes: god, i love loki. anyway. here’s a lil drabble for him. my favorite snake. my daisy. my cinnamon apple.

Originally posted by hiddlescheekbones

“A what?”

“A catnap,” you repeated. The elevator doors opened, and you stepped out, Loki at your heels. “You know, short sleeping sessions during the day to relax and recharge. But to be honest I’m usually more tired afterward.”

Loki wrinkled his nose. “Sounds useless.” He could admit that he was like a cat in many ways; he would sleep seventeen hours daily if it weren’t for you or the rest of the team urging for him to make the most of his day. He didn’t see any point in dozing for a short while, falling into a deep sleep, and having to drag himself out of it again.

“I told Thor about them a week ago. I thought he might tell you. He loves them! Wakes up feeling refreshed. Maybe you’ll like them too.”

His scowl deepened. “I suppose you bring that up to make me jealous, hm?”

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Might I just say @mortemistrata that I was a little unsure about this prompt at first, but I had so much fun writing this! 

“Good morning, Keith.”

Keith froze with one eyebrow arched. He slowly studied the brunet in front of him. “No ‘mullet’ this morning?”

“That would be rude,” Lance said, lips curled into a frown.

Keith’s face fell until he was matching the brunet’s expression. “Are you okay?” He zeroed in on small details, like the way Lance’s normally tan skin looked slightly washed out or the dark, bruised circles under Lance’s almost lifeless eyes.

“Of course.” Lance replied, tone even. “We should go before we are late to breakfast.”

Keith absently nodded, brows furrowed deeply, as he followed the brunet into the dining hall.

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inspired by this video (sfw, but a sex toy is being used as car repair, so take that as you will)

“Laura’s gonna flip,” Derek says in dismay, looking at the huge dent in the driver’s side door of the Camaro. Her most precious possession, the car she’d been saving up for forever, the car she waxes and washes every weekend, the car that she let Derek borrow to go to the Mathletes competition in San Francisco because Derek had a basketball game on Friday and couldn’t make the official school bus, the car that Laura made him swear his life on, is now forever ruined.

“Damn, if there ever was a good place to curse, that would have been it,” Stiles says, crossing his arms and looking far more attractive than he had the right to. “C’mon, Derek. Just say it. Fuck.”

Derek blushes, watching the word tumble out of Stiles’ pink mouth. “No, I… there’s gotta be a way to fix it. But if I call her insurance people she’s gonna know…”

“It’s totally my fault,” Stiles says. “I was the one who wanted to go to Tastee Freeze on the way back, and let some dingbat hit you in the parking lot. Actually, it’s their fault, whoever can’t drive.”

Derek shakes his head. It’s his fault. He’d been having too much fun this weekend; he’d spent practically all of it with Stiles. He’d had a crush on him forever— in fact, joined Mathletes at his request, and the whole year of practice, of spending afternoons with Stiles poring over math problems, watching Stiles lick Cheeto dust off his fingers— it’s been too much. Coupled with the fact that Stiles actually just plain forgot to catch the bus on Friday, and then caught a ride with Derek, meant hours in the car listening to him sing along to Hamilton and muddle through the rap bits, and sleeping next to him in the four-to-a-room motel Saturday night, and waking up with Stiles’ face smashed into his shoulder.

Derek had been too overwhelmed by it all, too overwhelmed by Stiles. Getting the chance to spend time with his friend this weekend had just intensified his feelings, and he knows there’s no chance that Stiles will ever feel the same, so he’s just drinking it all in, savoring these moments when he can.

It had been a terrible parking job, the Camaro was at a weird angle, that’s why the person rounding the turn had hit him. Derek sighs. He guesses it’s for the best. He’ll just have to pay Laura back. For forever.

Stiles is studying the door, eyes narrowed in concentration. “Actually, it’s not that bad. They didn’t even scratch it. It’s just a dent. With the right amount of leverage…”

“I’m sorry, do you happen to have a magical car-door fixer in your overnight bag?”

Somehow, this causes Stiles to turn bright red. “Okay. I have an idea. But you have to promise not to laugh.”

“Okay…?”

Derek watches, perplexed, as Stiles pulls his duffle bag out of the back seat, and then rummages around in it.

“Promise not to laugh,” Stiles repeats.

“I promise.” Derek is confused, but sincere.

Stiles pulls a bright blue dildo out of the bag. It’s springy, and jiggles a little with the movement. There’s a thick vein running along the side, and the base even has… balls.

Derek’s brain short circuits, an image of Stiles, naked, working himself on the girth of the toy, his mouth open, panting, as he tries to get the right angle, skin flushed pink from pleasure…

“Fuck,” Derek says.

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The Preacher’s Daughter // A Mitch Rapp Smut

Author: @minhosmeanhoe

Series Masterlist

A/N: This is mine and @stilinski-jpeg ‘s first series together and I’m so fucking excited for y’all to see what we have planned. Love you Nia and thank you for being my best friend. 

Relationship: Mitch Rapp x Reader / Mitch Rapp x OFC

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Fingering, Oral (Male on Female), Sinning, Underage Drinking, and Swearing.

Word Count: 6,176

Song: Shape of You by Ed Sheeran

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked, my nervous voice ringing with the sound of my heels clicking against the pavement.

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anonymous asked:

So I have a character who learned how to use a longbow when she was a child to hunt. My question is two-tiered: one, in what ways would that impact her physical development; and two, would this help her if she needed to use a bow against people?

Strong shoulders, strong arms.

In all honesty, the bow is a weapon you build to as a hunter. The first weapon she’d have learned was the sling. More useful for small game, and you can be deadly accurate with it. The David versus Goliath story in the Bible isn’t actually a joke or overblown. A child taking down a grown adult with a rock and a sling is entirely plausible if said adult isn’t wearing a helmet. The sling is the weapon of children everywhere, shepherds and hunters. In many parts of the world, they still use it. It’s also better for small game. Katniss would’ve done better braining the squirrels with a sling rather than a bow, like children do.

As a child, she’d be trained on a child’s training bow and work her way up the different types of bows practicing on a single target. The longbow is a weapon that requires a fairly hefty amount of upper body strength to wield, and she’d have to work and train up into her early teens before she was allowed to use it for hunting. The amount of strength you can draw dictates how far the arrow flies and how deep it penetrates. Depth of penetration is important, as is how far the arrow flies. Both define how close you need to be to your target in order to be successful. Herbivores don’t stand around waiting for a predator to kill them, and carnivores might just decide turnabout is fair play.

So, most of her childhood was spent on dummy duty with her bow as she learned to clean and care for it. Learning to stand, and that’s a whole series of lessons. Learning how to string the bow, learning how to hold it, learning to draw before she was ever allowed to shoot.

What whoever was training her would set her on before that is the other skills, and she’d act as a gopher for them the way all apprentices do. Following behind the older hunter, carrying their equipment, watching them and acting under their direction. You can’t hunt if you can’t find game, and you can’t eat it if you can’t clean it.

Hunting comes with a necessary subset of skills which allow the hunter to work. They don’t just go out into the woods and kill shit then come back. It requires patience. It involves waiting in one place for an animal to come by, sometimes for days. Traps, tracking, reading sign, learning to move through the underbrush without disturbing it, hiding your scent, etc.

Your hunter will catch more food that they eat on the regular with snare traps set for rabbits and other small game than they will with the bigger game like deer. Bigger game takes more investment, more energy, and a lot more luck. There’s also a higher chance of injury.

There are plenty of herbivores that won’t go down quiet, deer included. If your hunter hits wrong and they sense/smell them, there’s always the chance they won’t run and will come right in after the hunter. Animals have “fight or flight” too, and a doe can gore you just as well with her hooves as a buck can with his antlers. Any poor soul chased up a tree by a moose or just gut checked by a horse can tell you, herbivores are assholes. On an unlucky day, they’ll kill you just as well as a carnivore and that’s if you can find them at all.

The chances of managing a “one hit kill” with an animal like a deer are low and, even if you land a killing blow, they’re not just going to fall over dead. You’ve got to be able to follow it, recover the body, and kill it as it lies there bleeding out on the ground if necessary. You’ve also got to have some way to carry it back. Then, there’s the risk you run with whether the herd animals will return to the same place or move somewhere else if too many of their number die. If they do, and they’re your primary source of food, then you’ve got to move with them. Nevermind that there are quite a few animals a bow is simply no good for, like bears and boars. Where you need other tools like dogs and spears.

Hunting is a complicated business, and it doesn’t come with any guarantees.

Now, those skills do translate over well on a certain level to dealing with humans. Though, it’s not the weapon skills so much as the other less flashy ones. Many scouts in medieval armies, for example, were hunters of one sort or another. As were the foragers tasked with feeding them. The ability to tell how many people passed, where they passed, and what they brought with them from the tracks left on the roads or in the hills was a valuable ability. The ability to move through the woods without being seen, to hide your passing, to tell who is breaking trail, and to find their camps was also helpful.

The Ranger class in DnD is built on the hunter. You want a character who has more in common with Aragorn than Katniss. Aragorn uses a bow, but it’s not his only weapon.

The reason for this is that the bow isn’t a great weapon for close quarters. More importantly, it takes time to prepare. You don’t travel with it strung, as that wears out the string. If the string is no longer taut when strung then you can’t fire the bow. You don’t travel with the wood left to the elements. It needs to be wrapped, and packed away. Constantly be oiled to maintain its elasticity/limberness so it can be drawn. A dried bow is a bow you can’t pull, no matter how strong you are. You also can’t get it wet. It’s a weapon which takes a lot of prep in order to be used, a lot of care, a lot of maintenance, more than average, and a lot of hard work.

When you’re in, say, a military or part of a raiding force that knows its attacking then that’s great. Or someone who is on watch for certain periods during the day and will be relieved by another, that also works. Or when you’re sitting alone in the woods waiting for an animal to come by. However, the necessary prep time a bow requires is a lot less helpful when you’re taken by surprise.

By the time you’ve taken it out, unwrapped it, strung it, you’re dead. The enemy was also probably too close for the bow to really be of help anyway. Its a weapon which requires distance. Awesome when you’re pegging people from the ramparts, halfway up a tree, or fifty to a hundred feet off. Less so when they’re standing over you, axe in hand. The traditional role of archers in a military structure is artillery, and not that different from how we use the modern one. Their purpose is bombardment, they soften up the enemy so the vanguard can break their lines and kill them.

There is one kind of single combat the bow is useful for: stalking.

The bow is a silent weapon, and when used in a hunter-stalker mode, can be terrifyingly effective. It’s a stealth weapon, meant for ghosting in and ghosting out as you pick your enemies off. However, this kind of combat requires a proactive mindset and a willingness to get your hands dirty.

It’s also vindictive and, from the perspective of most modern morals, it’s cruel.

Humans are no more lucky than animals when it comes to hunting. The bow is the slow death. No character, no matter their skill level, is going to be guaranteed clean kills. However, what they do get is debilitating blows. An arrow through an arm, a leg, or better a lung, is going to take enemies out of the fight and if they’re not dead yet then potentially another one with them. Harassment is the order of the day. The slow path of carving off opponents, damaging them so they can’t fight back, following as they try to run, before moving in for the kill.

It’s a predatory style of combat, it is (really) just hunting. Hunting humans instead of animals. The terrifying form of combat that haunts so many horror movies. It’s psychological warfare.

However, it’s the kind of combat that takes time, patience, and a strong stomach. It’s up to you to decide if that’s the kind of combat you envisioned for this character to participate in. Or the kind of story you want to tell.

People embrace the Predator and Lara Croft from Tomb Raider (2013), and countless others that have this particular combat style.

It might, however, behoove you to consider coming up with other weapons this character has familiarity with. From knives, to traps, to fishing lines, to other more improvised weapons built on the fly. This character has a range of options within their skillset, and there’s no need to stick to just one.

Also we have a bow tag, and an archery tag for past discussion on this subject.

-Michi

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