i'm sorry but your face is my favorite of all faces

I was inspired by @lazulisong‘s utter brilliance.

The moment Takeshi learned of Yuuri’s ginormous crush on Victor Nikiforov, he lifted Yuuri’s sweatshirt, took a big handful of belly, and shouted loud enough to wake Yuuri’s dead grandmother, “Keep dreaming, round boy! Victor would never want a tubbo like you!”

Oh, but if only Takeshi knew that Victor Nikiforov not only wants a tubbo like Yuuri but that he cried when Yuuri announced that it was time to drop the weight in preparation for the new season. Cried actual tears. The kind of tears usually reserved for deaths in the family or losing everything in a fire. The kind he shed when he thought Yuuri was breaking up with him. Bitter, heart-wrenching tears that leave him red-faced and heaving, then stumbling around hours later, wrung completely dry.

To be fair, Victor cries like that about literally everything—Yuuri landing a quad, surprise candlelight dinners, children in oversized parkas, murals that feature the color cerulean, dogs in movies (not just when they die, but when they’re there at all), the fourth ringtone on his new phone, daffodils, the word ‘sorbet’, and aerosol deodorant—but what Takeshi doesn’t know won’t prove him right, so.

“Maybe you can postpone it another week,” Victor mumbles into the kitchen table, where he fell into a chair and just sort of… deflated everywhere. He’s lying on top of the newspaper. Yuuri really wants to read it.

“You told Yurio he should’ve started training two weeks ago.”

Victor gives a despondent shrug. “He should’ve. Instead he’s been spending all his time Skyping with that degenerate.”

“You love Otabek. You hugged him and said you were proud to welcome him to the family, then you dumped a bag of condoms in his lap and cried because—and I quote—you were trusting him to take care of your most precious child.” And then a mortified, blushing Yurio slammed the airport shuttle door on Victor’s fingers.

Victor’s bandaged hand lifts and cuts through the air as though it were a tiny boat sailing on a choppy sea. Yuuri isn’t entirely sure what it means, but whatever it is? It’s suitably dramatic. “Yurio’s different.”

“Except not really.” Across the table, Yuuri studies the part in his hair, which looks a little… wider than usual. And sadder. It looks like a frown. He wants to lean forward to touch it, but that would do nothing except set Victor off again, and at the moment there isn’t enough fluid in Victor’s body to sustain him as it is. Instead, he pushes his own glass of orange juice toward him. “Vitya, please, drink something and replenish, would you? I don’t want to even think about what the headlines would say tomorrow if I let you pass out while we’re running this evening.”

At that, Victor lifts his head. Yuuri could skate an entire program based on the sheer betrayal on Victor’s face. “We’re running already? But we can’t! Not yet! I'm—You’re not ready. Another week. I’m putting my foot down, as your coach.”

“You’re a terrible coach,” Yuuri says. “I mean that. I want that on record. I can’t believe I’ve put my career in your hands. Can I fire you?”

“I’m a good husband, though, so it all cancels out,” Victor points out, which, okay, fair point. And he proves it by sliding both of his hands across the table and making grabby motions with his fingers. Well, one hand does. The bandaged one looks like a mummified sock puppet. “Don’t leave meeeeee.”

“I’m not leav—” Yuuri pauses, then rolls his eyes so hard he’s almost positive that he sprains something. “Oh. You were talking to my—”

“Squishyyyyyy.”

It comes out on the back of a long, sinuous whine. At Yuuri’s feet, Makkachin stirs, and he places his foot gently on her back and rubs until she settles. “I’m not going to bust my ass twice as hard just so you can manhandle me whenever you want.”

Victor’s head thunks back onto the table between his outstretched arms. “But you’re so soft and squishy, and it’s my favorite, and soon you’re going to be all bony and hard.”

“You’ve never once complained about me being hard,” Yuuri deadpans, then hides his face in his hands, because honestly. Victor cackles dementedly. “Look, I know you like my… well. I appreciate it, but I really need to start training yesterday if we’re going for the gold.”

Victor throws himself off of the table and drapes himself backward over his chair with a groan that honestly deserves an award. “Fine! Fine. Nobody ever told me that so much of being married is making sacrifices.”

It would be so easy for Yuuri to just turn his head and stare at the framed cross-stitch on the microwave that reads Sacrifice is one of the purest and most selfless ways to love someone. Practice it daily. Instead, he nudges the glass of juice a little closer, because, well. Sacrifice.

“Buck up,” Yuuri says cheerfully. “I’ll be back to being squishy before you know it.”

With a grumble, Victor reaches for the glass.

And while no one could ever accuse Yuuri of being the type to hold a grudge, he can’t deny the small, dark part of him that wants to call up Takeshi right this second and crow, “Round Boy got his, you jerk!”

101 fluffy prompts
  • FALLING IN LOVE
  • 001: "You're really soft."
  • 002: "You smell nice."
  • 003: "I'm here for my daily fix of hugs and kisses."
  • 004: "Is it possible to love too much?"
  • 005: "I don't wanna get up-- you're comfy."
  • 006: "I will always be there protect you."
  • 007: "I'm cold. Come closer."
  • 008: "I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck.”
  • 009: "The stars look especially lovely tonight."
  • 010: "I've never seen such gorgeous eyes before."
  • 011: "May I have this dance?"
  • 012: "I can't stop thinking about you."
  • 013: "You'll never feel alone with me by your side."
  • 014: "Let's get to know each other over dinner."
  • 015: "All I want is you."
  • 016: "I could never leave you, I love you too much!"
  • 017: "A fairytale with a happy ending always brings a smile to my face."
  • 018: "I want to hear you sing."
  • 019: "I don't think anyone could ever be as lovely as you."
  • 020: "You look incredible in that."
  • 021: "He/She's quite stunning, isn't he/she?"
  • 022: "Sometimes I just can't control myself when around you."
  • 023: "Do you believe in love at first sight?"
  • 024: "I think I'm in love."
  • 025: "I’d like it if you stayed.
  • 026: "People are jerks, but not you."
  • 027: "I'll share the blankets with you."
  • 028: "I have never felt this way about anyone."
  • 029: "I want this to never end..."
  • 030: "Can I kiss you?"
  • LIVING TOGETHER
  • 031: "I waxed the floors, grab your fluffy socks."
  • 032: "Who changed the thermostat settings? I’m freezing to death."
  • 033: "Can we just watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch?"
  • 034: "You can put your cold feet on me."
  • 035: "Your stray red item turned my whites pink."
  • 036: "A thunderstorm is rolling through town and you’re scared of lightening/thunder so I’ll protect you."
  • 037: "There was a power outage and now we have to have dinner by candlelight."
  • 038: "Rock Paper Scissors to see who has to go talk to the neighbors upstairs for being too loud."
  • 039: "I just came home to you crying while watching a movie, please tell me what’s going on."
  • 040: "Our AC is out and it’s the middle of the summer."
  • 041: "You found me crying on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night surrounded by a shattered jelly jar."
  • 042: "My parents are coming over in 10 minutes so please put some clothes on"
  • 043: "We’re repainting the apartment and going to the hardware store together to pick out color swatches."
  • 044: "IF YOU USE UP ALL THE HOT WATER ONE MORE TIME IM GOING TO BAN YOU TO THE COUCH FOR A MONTH."
  • 045: "We’re watching Toy Story 3 and we can’t stop crying."
  • WEDDINGS/PROPOSALS
  • 046: "I caught the bouquet"
  • 047: "My ex just invited me to their wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years failing to get over them."
  • 048: "We accidentally got married in Vegas oops"
  • 049: "I’m really drunk, please help me get safely out of the way so I don’t ruin our friend’s wedding."
  • 050: "I planned out this super romantic proposal and you just ruined it by beating me to whole proposing thing."
  • 051: "I wasn’t planning on asking you, but it appeared to me that life is short. Will you marry me? "
  • 052: "If you shove cake in my face this will be the worst wedding night of your life."
  • 053: "Do you take this man/woman to be your lawfully wedded husband/wife? "
  • 054: "May I have this dance, wife/husband? "
  • 055: "You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m so happy I can finally call you my wife/husband."
  • 056: "I jokingly told you that the only way I’d marry you was if you did this weird outlandish thing, and you actually did it, and I’m kind of charmed."
  • 057: "This is probably a bad time, but marry me?"
  • MARRIED LIFE
  • 058: "We’ve become the clingy newlyweds you always complained about. "
  • 059: "Your ‘miracle hangover cure’ couldn’t possibly beat mine."
  • 060: "I know you haven’t had the best experience with dogs in the past but look at its face please please can we keep it?"
  • 061: "I wanted to surprise you for our anniversary, but everything that could go wrong, did go wrong."
  • 062: "I beat you at Mario Kart and now you're banishing me to the couch for the night?”
  • 063: "I surprised you with tickets to see our favorite band… WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU SURPRISED ME WITH TICKETS TO SEE THEM TOO?"
  • 064: "I know we had a big fight but we still need to decorate the house for the holidays."
  • 065: "Oh! Hey! Could you come and taste this to see if it's okay?"
  • 066: "We’re arguing over book versus movie."
  • 067: "I came home to a Nerf gun on the front porch and a note that says ‘Here is your weapon. I have one too. Loser cooks dinner. Good luck. xo’"
  • 068: "We’ve been celebrating our wedding anniversary on the wrong day for the past nine years."
  • 069: "You had a business trip and I missed you so much that I kind of tore up the house in your absence like a dog with separation anxiety… sorry?"
  • 070: "We both have nowhere else to be so we get to spend our rare day off at home."
  • PREGNANCY
  • 071: "I bet it’s a girl/boy."
  • 072: "Do you think it’s possible that I…might be… pregnant? "
  • 073: "I thought I was pregnant but the test must have been wrong. I’m not. "
  • 074: "You’re lucky I’m pregnant!"
  • 075: "Can you help me up, your child is pretty heavy."
  • 076: "I could really use a foot rub right now."
  • 077: "Your dad is really excited to meet you soon, it’s driving me crazy."
  • 078: "Do you wanna know the sex of the baby?"
  • 079: "The baby’s kicks are keeping me up at night."
  • 080: "Did you feel that?"
  • 081: "I can’t fit into my favorite dress anymore. "
  • 082: "OH MY GOD I’M GOING INTO LABOR. WHAT DO WE DO NOW?!
  • 083: "I can’t be pregnant… or….OH MY GOD! "
  • 084: "I think you might be pregnant.”
  • 085: "It’s 2 am but you’re craving cake and we’re both up anyway so let’s bake in our underwear."
  • PARENTING
  • 086: "I knew it was a mistake to get the twins matching clothes."
  • 087: "Sh…they’re asleep."
  • 088: "I think someone had a little accident with the finger paint."
  • 089: "Mondays are your diaper days."
  • 090: "Our kid is totally the one who wanted to build a pillow fort, not me."
  • 091: "Ooh…someone’s got a tummy ache."
  • 092: "Are you sure you don’t want me to drop them off myself? I don’t think you could handle seeing them off alone."
  • 093: "I told you we should have just gotten that German Shepherd puppy."
  • 094: "What do you think for their punishment? Grounding? No video games? No going out for a week?"
  • 095: "Mm…your kid before five in the morning."
  • 096: "Come on now, I think you’re being too harsh. He/she’s just a kid. Remember all of the stupid things we used to do when we were their age?"
  • 097: "So, how should we break the news that they’re going to have a new baby brother or sister?"
  • 098: "I think we should have another."
  • 099: "Why wasn’t I invited to your wedding?"
  • 100: "Okay fine, one more story, but then you really have to go to bed."
  • 101: "…They just grow up so fast."
Former Employment

Summary: Professor Stilinski is definitely not expecting to see his favorite porn star among the students of his Human Sexuality class.

Notes: Inspired by this ask. I don’t do power imbalance, so nothing happens until Derek is out of Stiles’ class. Also, while there are mentions of porn, there is no actual smut in this. Sorry. (On AO3)

@nogitsunelichen and @cobrilee – this is probably not what you had in mind, but I wrote it!


When Stiles pushes open the doors to the lecture hall, it’s completely empty. He blinks down at his watch in surprise, and realizes he made the walk across campus faster than he realized. There’s always an adjustment period at the beginning of every semester, where he figures out where his classrooms are and how long it’ll take to get there.

Well, he might as well utilize this time, then. He sits at the desk at the front of the room, and gets back to writing his proposal for a class on the influence of society on gender.

He gradually hears students come in as he works, but he keeps focused, because he knows he has at least another ten minutes before class starts.

But when he hears a student ask, “Hey, are you the professor?” he has to look up, and he begins to wish he’d done it a lot sooner.

Keep reading

That Awkward Moment When

John Laurens x Female Reader

Requested by @cupcakequeen1999 who was kind enough to compromise, this one goes out to you girl, you’re super rad

In which the reader and Laurens are roommates and very good friends. Jealousy and smut ensues.

Words: 4,573

Warnings: NSFW! SMUT SMUT SMUT and LOTS OF SWEARING (don’t read if this will make you uncomfortable)

Keep reading

what it means

When they finally kiss, it feels like time has stopped. Or maybe it was going too fast, they didn’t know.

For him, the kiss means ‘thank you’. Thank you for bringing me back. Thank you for remembering me even though it was practically impossible for you (or anyone else for that matter) to do it. Thank you for believing in my existence even though eveybody thought you were crazy. Thank you for convincing Scott and my dad and Malia that I actually was a real human being and not some idea that was stuck in your head.

It also means ‘you’re so smart’. Like you actually opened a rift through space and time to save me. And you were the one to know where I was and how to get to me. Once again, you figured it out. God, you are so smart, that’s probably my favorite thing about you.

It also means ‘I’ve been wanting to do this since I was a child’ and I don’t care that we’ve already kissed because right now I’m not having a panic attack, even though the feeling of your lips against mine could actually give me one. I have been dreaming of kissing you hundreds of times, in my dreams, in math class, in the morning or when I went to sleep, and now I’m finally doing it, I still don’t realize it’s really happening.

It also means ‘god, I missed you so much’ and now you’re actually in my arms so I’m probably never letting go of you. I finally found what’s my favorite feeling in the world, and it’s having your body pressed against mine while your hands are on my face and mine are on your waist.

Finally, it means ‘I love you and you don’t have to say it back’’. God, I love you so much I would die for you, but I know I wasn’t going to die in the Hunt, because I had to see your face once more first. Then, I could have died if it meant you were going to be safe. I love you so much I actually can’t believe that you love me back. And you don’t have to say it back, Lydia, because I know. I have known for a while, because the way you used to look at me changed, and I felt more alive than ever everytime your eyes met mine. And I knew, but I didn’t want to believe it, because it would practically impossible for Lydia Martin to actually love me, a pale boy with lots of bones and flannel shirts. But I knew, Lydia, and I know now, and it makes me so happy that I don’t have time to hear you say it, I just want you in my arms right now. You can tell me later though.

For her, the kiss means ‘I’m sorry’. I’m sorry I didn’t remember you earlier. But as soon as you left, I knew something was wrong, I knew someone was missing, and I knew that this someone was important to me. I’m sorry I didn’t convince everyone you were real on the first try. I’m sorry I almost doubted myself when it came to you.

It also means ‘I didn’t say it back, but I do’. Since i first kissed you, I knew. I didn’t know that I loved you, but I knew that something was different between us. I knew the way I looked at you had changed, and the way you looked at me was still the same loving, tender and sweet look you used to gave me since the third grade. But I was scared of admitting it to myself, because I was scared of the consequences and I was afraid of being weak.

It simply means ‘I love you’. God, I do. I love how you make me feel, like I can do everything I never thought I could. You make me feel like I could climb mountains, and bring the dead back to life. You make me feel more beautiful than I’ve ever felt in my whole life, inside and out, even when I’m screaming at the top of my lungs or when I have spent the night working instead of sleeping or when I have been stuck in a mental house or when I look like a zombie. And my favorite part, you make me feel smart and important. God, nobody ever made me feel smart, not even my parents because they thought it was ‘normal’ to be smart. You make me feel like I could win the Field’s medal and solve the Riemann hypothesis. You make me feel like I am the most important person in your eyes, and sometimes in the world. I love how sassy you are, even when we’re being attacked by zombie cowboys or nazi werewolves. I love how you’d do everything to save the people you love, even though you say you’re ‘just a human’ and you have no superpowers (I love how you always fight with a bat, I told you it was stupid but I secretly love it). I love how you always look out for us, all of us, and you feel like Atlas, because you don’t care about your problems, you just want to carry everyone’s problems on your shoulders. I love your smile. God, your smile is everything, it could light up the whole town. And your eyes. Your eyes are not brown, they are the most unique shade of hazel and everytime you look at me, I feel like you can see through my soul.

And it means ‘I missed you’. I’m not a fan of intimacy, but I missed you so much I couldn’t not touch you. I couldn’t wait. And I just had to run to you because you had been missing for 3 months and I have missed your face and your flannel shirts and your scent and your height and your hands and your smile and your everything about you. When I found your jersey in your room and your dad kept it, I almost cried because I wanted to keep it to myself so I could at least have your scent with me and you could be with me, even if it was not physically. I hated being alone. When you were there, you were my bestfriend, and I never felt lonely when I was with you. When you came back, as soon as we collided, I knew I would never be alone again. And as we were kissing, our bodies were almost intertwined but I still wanted to get closer to you. Because I missed you so much, and I finally got you back.

When they finally kiss, it feels like time has stopped. Or maybe it was going too fast, they didn’t know. But they knew that they had a lifetime to figure it out together.

Sloppy Seconds

(Bucky Barnes x Reader) x Steve Rogers

Notes: THE TITLE IS SELF EXPLANATORY, PWP, one shot, smut.
Established relationship (Bucky x Reader), unlabeled relationship dynamic, explicit sex scenes, messy sex, threesome, DP, the author is going to hell for this, her bags are already packed

Summary: You and Bucky head home, ready to place the finishing touches on your date night. Steve calls, and everyone gets what they needed.

A/N: I needed this, too. Partly because I’m procrastinating on another story I should be writing, partly because I haven’t posted any new fics in a while, and partly because I needed this. Did you need it too? Let me know what you think, and as always—enjoy! ^_^




Bucky held your hand gently with his flesh one, leading you down the hallway to his room. You were both quiet but giggling innocently. Date night had gone well. It was a simple night out—movie and a dinner. You always preferred it in that order instead of the other way around. Watching the movie first meant that dinner didn’t have to be rushed. But you two skipped dessert to save time anyway. The real treat would come later in the night.

You were back in Bucky’s room. The lights were dimmed and soft ambient music filtered through Bucky’s computer speakers. The mood was set just the way you liked it. He approached you quietly, eying you sweetly. Both of your clothes came off easily, and soon Bucky had you on the ground in the nest of blankets and pillows set up in the corner. He rested his muscular, naked body between your equally naked legs and leaned over you. Bucky peppered kisses wherever he could until he finally met your lips. He ground his pelvis against yours, feeling your pussy get slick against his cock without slipping himself in quiet yet. He wanted to warm you up first.

Off in the pile of discarded clothes, Bucky’s phone began to ring. Neither of you noticed until it stopped and your phone started ringing right afterwards. Then Bucky’s twice. Back to yours again.

Bucky grinned against your lips before getting to his feet. “Oh right, our treat.” His semi-hard bobbed from side to side as he walked over to the clothes and dug out his phone. It was Steve.

The phone rang again and Bucky answered immediately.

“Hey Steve, you ready to come over?”

Keep reading

A (brief) Voltron PSA about HELMETS!

Hello my small family of watchers! I love each and every one of you precious people. And because you are precious to me, I’ve decided to talk about HELMETS! Here are our favorite Paladins all lookin’ snazzy and SAFE in their helmets:

Let’s talk about this for a second: they’re inside of their practically indestructible LIONS and they are still wearing HELMETS. Can we just appreciate this extra level of safety for a second?!

MEANWHILE IRL, here is what happens when you wear a helmet:

This was my helmet from a little over a year ago after a cycling accident. I literally have no memory of how I went from riding down a hill to getting my face literally peeled from the asphalt. My helmet cracked in 3 pieces: the visor, the foam and the outer shell. 

Keep reading to see what happened and what I look like now! 

Below is my face a day after the accident (all bandaged up and swollen and gross lookin’ but ALIVE and NOT DEAD):

SEE? NOT DEAD. In a world of pain, but not dead. 


AND NOW FOR A FACE REVEAL

DRUMROLL PLEASE

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Face reveal (a little over a year later)

SEE? NOT UGLY OR SCARRED (up for debate but w/e I don’t have to hide my face anyway)

I know wearing your helmet may feel like this sometimes: 

But when you know you’re safe you’ll feel like this:

So be safe, kiddos. Wear your helmets! <3 

anonymous asked:

Do you have any fics dealing with feeling worthless as a bottom? I'm very femme-y and I love being taken care of in bed. Being aggressive and dominant don't come naturally to me. I've accepted that I'm a giant softie who likes a more dominant partner. The problem is THEY do the work. I can initiate a kiss and fondle and go down on a girl and all that stuff, but I'm truly in my element under a nice pair of breasts, feeling safe and taken care of. It feels selfish/greedy, though. :/

Maggie absolutely loves topping her.

She loves how pliant her body is underneath hers, loves the sounds she makes, loves the way her eyes flutter closed, the way she scratches at her back, the way her own back arches helplessly. The way she screams her throat raw on Maggie’s name.

She loves the way that badass, take-no-prisoners, ruthless, perfectionist, take-care-of-everybody-and-what-do-you-mean-I-have-needs-too DEO agent Alex Danvers surrenders to being worshiped by her. Submits to her love. Writhes and begs and whines and lets everything go for the prayers she plays out on Alex’s body.

The way Alex trusts her.

Fully, completely.

The way Alex gives her everything by taking everything: the way Alex gives her everything by letting her love her, by letting her adore her, by letting her be trusted.

But the first time Alex’s eyes flash and she asks with her eyes, with her gentle touch, with her body, if she can put Maggie’s wrists above her head and return every bit of worshiping she’s gotten in their first times, Maggie doesn’t hesitate.

Because Alex’s desire to please her, to touch her, to do everything with her, to her, is palpable. Is radiating.

And god, does Maggie want her.

Want to be taken by her.

And god, does Alex take her.

She makes sure Maggie’s head is resting perfectly on her favorite pillow and she kisses every centimeter of her face and she takes her time stripping her naked, and every time Maggie tells her that she doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to, that they can stop whenever Alex wants, that she doesn’t owe Maggie anything, Alex pffts and Alex rasps, “do you want me to stop?”, and Maggie splutters – no woman has ever made her splutter before, and she wonders if she picked it up from Alex or if Alex was just always fated to have that effect on her – and she shakes her head and Alex grins and Alex continues.

Alex is a quick study – of course Alex is a quick study – and she takes her time bringing Maggie to orgasm after orgasm after orgasm, her mouth exploring her breasts, figuring out exactly what rhythm of her tongue over her hardened nipples makes her whine loudest, pant hardest.

Takes her time figuring out which spots on her stomach make Maggie giggle and which spots – when Alex’s teeth gently, and then at Maggie’s desperate urging, not so gently, graze her skin – make Maggie unravel.

Takes her time figuring out that Maggie has no problem keeping one leg up on Alex’s shoulder so Alex can fuck her deeper, can fuck her harder, can reach deeper inside her, touch places in her body, her soul, that no one has ever bothered to explore.

Takes her time figuring out that if she puts her thigh between Maggie’s legs and arches to take one of Maggie’s nipples into her mouth at the same time, it won’t take her long to cum. Hard. Again.

And because Alex is a quick study, Alex imitates Maggie’s constant checking in, her constant questioning – “are you sure, babe?” “do you want this, Maggie?” “all good?” “like that?” “do you need a break?” “do you like when I lick your clit like that, or like that? Both? Mmm, excellent” – and Maggie is so swept away, so caught up, in being the center of this gorgeous woman’s attention, the sole focus of this brilliant soldier-scientist’s incredible brain and body power, that her answer, truly, madly, deeply, is always yes Alex, please, god, don’t stop, Alex, Alex, Alex.

But when Alex wipes her mouth on her bare shoulder and kisses the insides of Maggie’s thighs, a satisfied, deeply affectionate but also deeply smug grin on her face after making Maggie cum for the upteenth time, Maggie panics.

Panics because it’s almost sunrise, and she’s done nothing for Alex all night.

She can’t count the number of times she’s cum, and the only thing she’s done has been begging Alex for more.

The only thing she’s done has been selfish preening and worthless whining and god, how can she be this self-involved, this lazy, this unwilling to work for such a gorgeous, perfect, dedicated woman?

How can she have let Alex dedicate herself solely to her pleasure and offer her absolutely nothing in return?

So she panics.

She panics, and shame sweeps through her stomach because maybe this, this, this is why she’s never truly bottomed for anyone before, because she isn’t lazy, she isn’t selfish, she isn’t worthless, she isn’t greedy, she isn’t… except she is. Because the last few hours – god, the last few incredible hours – prove that she is exactly those things.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Did I hurt you, are you okay?”

And suddenly Alex is out from between her legs and crawling up to where she could cradle her body, hovering because she’s unsure of whether to touch her, but concern is radiating from her eyes – genuine, full-throated concern – and that concern just makes the shame sweep harder through Maggie’s stomach.

“You didn’t hurt me, I’m fine. It’s nothing, it’s whatever, it – “

“No, Maggie. It’s not whatever. Your whole body tensed up, you… it matters, Maggie. You matter.”

Alex’s face is a map of confusion, a map of worry, a map of god please tell me I didn’t hurt you.

Maggie makes a futile grab for the covers – being naked right now is just a reminder of how selfish she is  – and Alex immediately lunges down the bed to get them and tuck Maggie in.

“No, no, you don’t have to… see, that’s just it, Danvers, I…”

“I’m sorry – “ Alex drops the sheets and holds up her hands immediately in soft surrender.

Surrender. Surrender.

“No, Alex, I’m sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just…”

She looks away and she clenches her jaw and she can feel Alex staring down at her, can feel Alex thinking, can feel Alex calculating.

“We’ve never had sex quite like that before,” Alex observes softly, so softly, after a few long, silent moments.

Maggie still won’t look at her, and she desperately tries to control the burning in her eyes, the churning in her stomach, but she tries to remember the trust that led her to let Alex top her to begin with, so she nods.

“I’ve never really… taken the lead.”

Maggie nods again.

“Was it bad? Was I bad? Because I can get better, I – “

“No! No, Alex, you were… you were amazing, it…”

“You can tell me if I – “

“No. You were perfect, Alex, I promise, it’s not that – “

“Then what is it, Maggie? You can tell me.”

A long silence. Alex rests her body down on one elbow and holds out a hovering hand, a question in her eyes. Maggie nods again and Alex strokes her hair softly.

And that’s exactly what Maggie needs, which is exactly why Maggie breaks.

“Why would you… what did you get out of all that, Alex? I just… I just laid there, I didn’t do anything for you, I… how selfish could I be, it… I didn’t do anything for you, Alex, all night, I just – “

“Maggie, wait. That’s not… are you kidding? Do you seriously want to feel how wet I am right now?”

Maggie pffts at Alex’s earnesty with wet eyes. “Nerd.”

Alex smiles with relief and kisses her forehead.

“Maggie, I… I’m so glad you let me… top you? Is that the way to say it? I…” Alex pauses and searches Maggie’s face for the right words. “Maggie, you’re always in control of everything. You’re always responsible, you’re always making decisions. Life and death decisions! And you… you always take care of me, you always just… you make me so happy, Maggie, and I… you deserve it. You deserve to be taken care of. You deserve to lay back and let me worship you, because you… you’re amazing, Maggie, and you deserve to let go, you deserve to be cared for. And – and… it’s giving me a gift, Maggie. You trusting me like that. You letting me lo… letting me care for you like that, that’s a gift, Maggie. It’s perfect. You’re perfect, and you deserve to be shown that. And, if you’re worried that you weren’t doing anything for me… you’ve gotta be kidding. That was the… sexiest, hottest… thing I’ve ever done… the… you… I came, you know. A bunch of times, not that that was the point, but I’m just saying, feeling you like that, touching you like that? Listening to you like that? I came. Because it was so incredible, I just… I didn’t make a big deal out of it, because I wanted to focus on you. You deserve to be focused on, Maggie. I promise I love…d it. I promise.”

Another long pause, another thick silence.

“So you’re saying you liked it. Cause that’s… that’s what I’m getting.”

“Oh my god, you’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance, Danvers. Not a chance.”

Precious Cargo

Request: Hey, I love your imagines and was wondering if I could request a newt x reader? Maybe where like newt and the reader are dating, or like engaged, and the reader is pregnant (but no one but she herself knows it). And like newt and the gang go into battle and the reader ends up passing out. And then when she comes too, they’ve found out she’s pregnant? And maybe like an argument with reader and newt about why she didn’t tell him). HIGHKEY ANGST ANGST ANGST THANK YOU AND MAYBE-JUST MAYBE SOME FLUFF

Word Count: 3,178

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by Anonymous

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


Pushing your chair back, you stand from the dinner table that Queenie, Tina, and Newt sit at, laughing over a joke Tina heard at work. Newt’s eyes shine when he glances at you, and he places three fingers to his lips to hide the growing smile. Blushing, you smile back and begin clearing the plates from the table.

Your ring clicks against Queenie’s plate when you lift it, and you don’t bother trying to hide the smile that appears. She’ll be able to read your elation anyway.
In mock horror, Queenie turns to Newt. “Mr. Scamander, making her clear the table on her own? Is that anyway to treat your fiancée?”

Newt beams at your two-day old title. “I suppose it isn’t.” He places his balled-up napkin on the table, stands, and reaches to take the plates from you. “She shouldn’t have to lift a finger.”

You spin the diamond ring on your finger, melting under Newt’s look of pure adoration. Your stomach flutters and twirls. He tilts his head—such an adorable habit of his—and you want to be much closer.

Tina clears her throat, uncomfortable with the starry look the two of you are holding over the table. “Maybe we should go.”

Queenie giggles. “Come on, sis, let’s leave the two lovebirds alone.”

You tear your eyes from Newt’s dazzling ones. “Oh no, don’t –“ You start to say, but trail off at Queenie’s eye roll and understanding smirk.

The two disappear into the stairwell and close the front door as Newt sets the stack of plates down. The floor creaks as he steps around the table.

The smell of nutmeg, pine, and the wind surround you as Newt nears. His soft hand lifts yours, drawing it closer to his face where he can inspect the shimmering diamond.

“I’m glad you said yes.” A wisp of red hair drifts in front of his eyes as he lifts his gaze to yours, head still bent.

“I’m glad you asked,” you tease, heart hammering against your ribs like it wants to break out.

Newt drops your hand, smile quirking up the corners of his lips as he brushes a thumb over your cheekbone. “I would’ve been the biggest fool not to.”

“I can’t believe we’re engaged.”

“My mother’s going to have a heart attack when the owl arrives.”

Keep reading

Things That Never Cross A Man’s Mind

Pairing: Dean x Reader
Words: ~750
Warnings: Just fluffiness
Summary: Dean misses your anniversary dinner, you get madder than he expected but he makes up for it.
A/N: My submission for @riversong-sam ‘s 700 Follower Challenge (i’m sooo sorry this is so late). My song was Things That Never Cross A Man’s Mind by Kellie Pickler, prompt & gif are in the fic. Thank’s to @impalaimagining for looking over it. Feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Originally posted by yourfavoritedirector

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anonymous asked:

skye I hate to ask you but I'm having an awful week and rejection after rejection for college and I ended up not doing amazing on a math test that I felt confident on the material and like 5 people told me I look angry today and I'm so t I r e d..... could you maybe write something about my moon and stars im jaebum and cats...?

im sorry that things are glum,,,but just know you’re amazing anyway <33

  • wizard!jaebum whose familiars are cats 
  • has lots of cats that wander in and out of his apartment,,,,they honestly just jump up and come through the open window and lay down in like any warm space avilable
  • he always comes home to cat loaves on his couch, bed, on top of the tv, on his keyboard,,,,,in the freaking bathroom sink
  • but he really doesn’t mind, cats have always been his family’s protectors and companions 
  • they’d collect herbs for his potions, act as mail carriers so he could communicate with other wizards, and just be there to keep him company
  • he can speak with the ones breed by his family, but not street cats
  • the kitten he got when he turned old enough to use magic on his own is a Javanese with piercing blue eyes and white fur
  • and he named her ‘soul’ 
  • lil things about wizard!jaebum in general: has a nose ring, wears silky dress shirts with sleeves that are too long and so when he uses his wand it looks kinda funny, his wand is painted black with a silver lining and cat charms that hang off the end where he holds it, breaks all his brooms so he prefers teleportation, sings when he’s alone with soul
  • you meet him because you’re both at the market for unicorn hair and as you’re waiting for the shopkeeper you hear something break in the room and you and jaebum both turn around
  • and look up to see your familiar, the red fox, with its muzzle in some kind of jar and another broken one on the floor
  • and you’re like oh my god get down!!!! we’re gonna get in trouble
  • but as you’re jumping up to get your fox down, jaebums cat hops off of his shoulder and onto the cabinet where your fox is and tries to paw at the jar 
  • and jaebum is like “what are you doing??” and you’re both jumping up and down at your familiars, frantically worried that the shopkeeper is going to walk in and see the mess
  • and your fox pulls its face out and jumps into your arms and you’re like “let’s leave before the owner sees us-”
  • but jaebum grabs your wrist and is like ummmmm ,,,,your fox did this me and soul aren’t taking the blame
  • and you’re like about to use a spell to make him let go
  • when the door to the store shuts and you both look over and the shopkeeper is like “neither of you are leaving, you’re both taking the blame and cleaning up what you broke.”
  • that’s how you and jaebum end up cleaning up a bunch of like??? what even was in that jar like goblin eyelashes???
  • and neither of you get your unicorn hair because you have to pay for the jars
  • and you’re both nagging at your familiars as you leave
  • and soul just disappears in a puff of smoke and your own familiar scampers off and you and jaebum are like ,,,,,,,,,,,,, why are they like this
  • and you’re both looking at each other and jaebum is like “i can’t believe you got us into that mess” and you’re like “your cat jumped up there too!” and no you’re both nagging at eaCh other,,,,
  • but also you’re like “im tired. im gonna go get some food.” and jaebums like “don’t steal my idea, i was going to get food too.”
  • and you’re arguing up and down the streets until you both stop in front of the same stall that sells food and you’re like heY dont follow me and he’s like this is my favorite place???? don’t follow me????
  • long story short you’re both angrily eating in silence waiting for your familiars to come back and slowly but surely you start to bond over the fact that,,,,,,,,,,,well familiars are a handfull but,,jaebum thinks its cool yours is a fox and you think soul is pretty
  • and soon enough you’re not nagging but talking and when your familiars return soul finds her way up onto jaebums shoulder and he’s like “hey- what? a date? no we were just talking because you left-  hey don’t jump to conclusions!”
  • and your fox, curled up in your arms looks up at you and you’re like “is he handsome???? i didn’t noticE????????? don’t look at me with that sly foxy smile???”
  • and you and jaebum both glance up at each other but then you’re like,,,,,,shyly looking down because ok um since when was the other person so cute????
  • and you’re like ill be going!!! and he’s like alright,,,,,,but then soul drops something in jaebums hands and he looks down to see the address with your name and he’s like soUL where do you get this 
  • and your fox familiar has the same card with jaebums name and you’re like i,,, dont,,,,,need this,,,,,,,,,,
  • but ofc you do hehe jaebum sends you a package a week later with unicorn hair and an invitation to go out for dinner sometime ^^ 
tiny little kisses.

when i was first to wake
i would gently place
a tiny little kiss
upon your face

i loved you most
when you were dreaming
of me

it must have been a monday

i felt you walking into the café
your eyes, adjusting to the light
reminiscent of my favorite sight

do you still dream of me?

i think you loved me most
before i stopped writing poems
before i lost myself and fell
out of touch in the moment

i couldn’t focus on the present
while distracted by the past
i’ve come to regret it
looking back

i’m sorry
if i let it
eat our love alive

there you were, on a monday
freshly risen from your sleep

the first thought
that came to me
were all of the times
i used to wake
and gently place
a kiss
upon your face

such a tiny little thing
to miss

i think i love you most
whenever i’m writing poems

i find
myself and
fall in love with
tiny little moments
i never knew i’d miss

i never thought i’d have to
keep a kiss from your cheek

i never thought you’d leave

but i just couldn’t
see that half of
the problem
was me

it must have been a monday
you waltzed in, wearing sun rays
a flower in the garden, blooming
just after eight in the morning

do you still dream of me?

i think you still love me
maybe it’s just dormant
but i can’t help you find it

eventually, you’ll realize
that it’s all about timing
and maybe it’ll be too late
when the feeling arises

but i know one thing:
it’s the tiny little moments
that you’ll come to miss
and the tiny little kisses
that i used to give

maybe you’ll love me
most when i stop
writing for you

anonymous asked:

help i need help!!! i'm on season 2 ep 5 rn, and i really want to like lance but i can't :(( i just find him annoying and obnoxious and i don't know how to like him. please help?

Don’t worry, but I am so sorry this is probably going to be long…

Lance has many qualities that I endear, he’s funny, intelligent, selfless, and quite frankly he is the heart of the team. “The blue lion is… it seems to be the lion that I most associate with like, holding the team together. There’s something about teamwork with the blue lion. Like […] about providing what’s needed at the time, and being flexible, which I think is kind of a little bit of the water element of the blue lion. It ties into being a leg, too, you know. Legs are all about support.” [x]

Lance is honestly one of my favorite characters ever…

Lance is incredibly selfless even in the littlest of ways. In S1EP4 He is able to figure out quite fast that Rover was not the actual Rover thus throwing himself and shielding Coran causing himself to be badly injured then later during the fight despite almost nearly dying, when his teammates are in trouble he emerges from his coma and is able to make an amazing shot at the enemy before passing back out. Another time this happens is in S1EP9, Lance out right believes the castle in haunted and is scared yet when a voice that sounds like Coran cries out for help, Lance immediately straightens up, forgetting all fear to rescue Coran and runs to the source of the voice. Another display of this is when He doesn’t want to worry the rest of his teammates (He excuses himself from the party so he doesn’t sour the mood because he was feeling homesick in S1EP4) which I think is why he rather be known as the person who can lighten the mood/class clown of the team, making it easier for him to bottle up his emotions and not cause unnecessary trouble to everyone.

Lance is actually humble. Lance wants to be seen as a hero, but in reality that’s not who he thinks he actually is. He may want the parades, glory, and to be seen as the best but when it comes down to it, does he think he actually is worthy of it? Not really and that shows in S2EP2 when he is captured by the mermaids and they call him their savior. You can see it in his face, the worry and question because woah why me? You think I’m your savior? I’m just Lance. Then when the mermaids say “We believe you can stop her”, his face shifts into an uneasy expression probably because he doesn’t believe he could actually stop her. “He’s kind of cool, but he’s kind of a goof,” continued Montgomery. “I like Lance because he feels the most human. He’s got those insecurities, but he tries so hard to cover them up. That’s what’s kind of fun about him. He wants to be the cool guy. He wants it so bad, but not exactly…” [x]
In S2EP10, He thinks so highly of all his teammates, complimenting each of them and bragging about them to a complete stranger, but when he gets to himself he pauses and thinks perhaps he’s not as great as how he sees the rest of his fellow paladins. But my gosh, Lance is much more than meets the eye. 

Lance is so smart. Lance in canon is good at reading people and the situation, he has an awareness of others and is able to make pretty good calls. We see a lot of it in the very first episode and more of it whenever Shiro is absent. Without most of us fully realizing, Lance is able to step up his leadership game and is able to give out orders to the rest of the team, and make calm, collected decisions. Lance is able to put one and two together and come up with plans quickly. In S1EP7, He stops Keith from being reckless and hurting the Balmera, coming up with a great alternative plan that is successful, not once, but twice during that episode. “But also, he does evolve. There’s aspects to his character that will start coming more into the forefront as the series goes on. You’ll see him take steps to real leadership material.” [x] And this is only the beginning of the show, we have to remember we only have two seasons released out of the planned six. We still have so much more to look forward to in regards of Lance’s growth.

I love Lance’s dynamic because yes he is a goof ball and he probably doesn’t pick the best times to crack a joke, but he’s exceedingly a talented marksman, and not only the heart of Team Voltron, but the heart of the show itself. I love Lance, not because he’s perfect but because he isn’t. Which is why I think many people project onto him. He’s so human. He is flawed but is constantly growing, adapting, and learning from his mistakes.

anonymous asked:

I know we're all excited for the printshop scene and what happens next, but the reunion I'm truly looking forward to is the one between Jamie and Bree. I'm aware Roger and Brianna are not fan favorites but I LOVE the relationship both of them build with Jamie over time, he really becomes a father for both of them. Jamie deserves all the good things, and I can't wait for his family to be whole again. And I *really* hope the show will not neglect Fergus as Diana did in the books. I love them all!

There was no doubt in her mind, from the first glimpse. She was at once surprised and not surprised at all; he was not quite what she had imagined—he seemed smaller, only man-sized—but his face had the lines of her own; the long, straight nose and stubborn jaw, and the slanted cat-eyes, set in a frame of solid bone. 

He moved toward her out of the maples’ shadow, and the sun struck his hair with a spray of copper sparks. Half consciously she raised a hand and pushed a strand of hair back from her face, seeing from the corner of her eye the matching gleam of thick red-gold. 

“What d’ye want here, lassie?” he asked. Sharp, but not unkind. His voice was deeper than she had imagined; the Highland burr slight but distinct. “You,” she blurted. Her heart seemed to have wedged itself in her throat; she had trouble forcing any words past it. 

He was close enough that she caught the faint whiff of his sweat and the fresh smell of sawn wood; there was a golden scatter of sawdust caught in the rolled sleeves of his linen shirt. His eyes narrowed with amusement as he looked her up and down, taking in her costume. One reddish eyebrow rose, and he shook his head. 

“Sorry, lass,” he said, with a half-smile. “I’m a marrit man.” 

He made to pass by, and she made a small incoherent sound, putting out a hand to stop him, but not quite daring to touch his sleeve. He stopped and looked at her more closely. 

“No, I meant it; I’ve a wife at home, and home’s not far,” he said, evidently wishing to be courteous. “But—” He stopped, close enough now to take in the grubbiness of her clothes, the hole in the sleeve of her coat and the tattered ends of her stock. 

“Och,” he said in a different tone, and reached for the small leather purse he wore tied at his waist. “Will ye be starved, then, lass? I’ve money, if you must eat.” 

She could scarcely breathe. His eyes were dark blue, soft with kindness. Her eyes fixed on the open collar of his shirt, where the curly hairs showed, bleached gold against his sunburnt skin. 

“Are you—you’re Jamie Fraser, aren’t you?” 

He glanced sharply at her face. 

“I am,” he said. The wariness had returned to his face; his eyes narrowed against the sun. He glanced quickly behind him, toward the tavern, but nothing stirred in the open doorway. He took a step closer to her. 

“Who asks?” he said softly. “Have you a message for me, lass?” 

She felt an absurd desire to laugh welling up in her throat. Did she have a message? 

“My name is Brianna,” she said. He frowned, uncertain, and something flickered in his eyes. He knew it! He’d heard the name and it meant something to him. She swallowed hard, feeling her cheeks blaze as though they’d been seared by a candle flame. 

“I’m your daughter,” she said, her voice sounding choked to her own ears. “Brianna.” 

He stood stock-still, not changing expression in the slightest. He had heard her, though; he went pale, and then a deep, painful red washed up his throat and into his face, sudden as a brushfire, matching her own vivid color. 

She felt a deep flash of joy at the sight, a rush through her midsection that echoed that blaze of blood, recognition of their fair-skinned kinship. Did it trouble him to blush so strongly? she wondered suddenly. Had he schooled his face to immobility, as she had learned to do, to mask that telltale surge? 

Her own face felt stiff, but she gave him a tentative smile. 

He blinked, and his eyes moved at last from her face, slowly taking in her appearance, and—with what seemed to her a new and horrified awareness—her height. 

“My God,” he croaked. “You’re huge.” 

Her own blush had subsided, but now came back with a vengeance. 

“And whose fault is that, do you think?” she snapped. She drew herself up straight and squared her shoulders, glaring. So close, at her full height, she could look him right in the eye, and did. 

He jerked back, and his face did change then, mask shattering in surprise. Without it, he looked younger; underneath were shock, surprise, and a dawning expression of half-painful eagerness. 

“Och, no, lassie!” he exclaimed. “I didna mean it that way, at all! It’s only—” He broke off, staring at her in fascination. His hand lifted, as though despite himself, and traced the air, outlining her cheek, her jaw and neck and shoulder, afraid to touch her directly. 

“It’s true?” he whispered. “It is you, Brianna?” He spoke her name with a queer accent—Breeanah—and she shivered at the sound. 

“It’s me,” she said, a little huskily. She made another attempt at a smile. “Can’t you tell?” 

His mouth was wide and full-lipped, but not like hers; wider, a bolder shape, that seemed to hide a smile in the corners of it, even in repose. It was twitching now, not certain what to do. 

“Aye,” he said. “Aye, I can.” 

He did touch her then, his fingers drawing lightly down her face, brushing back the waves of ruddy hair from temple and ear, tracing the delicate line of her jaw. She shivered again, though his touch was noticeably warm; she could feel the heat of his palm against her cheek. 

“I hadna thought of you as grown,” he said, letting his hand fall reluctantly away. “I saw the pictures, but still—I had ye in my mind somehow as a wee bairn always—as my babe. I never expected …” His voice trailed off as he stared at her, the eyes like her own, deep blue and thick-lashed, wide in fascination. 

“Pictures,” she said, feeling breathless with happiness. “You’ve seen pictures of me? Mama found you, didn’t she? When you said you had a wife at home—” 

“Claire,” he interrupted. The wide mouth had made its decision; it split into a smile that lit his eyes like the sun in the dancing tree leaves. He grabbed her arms, tight enough to startle her. 

“You’ll not have seen her, then? Christ, she’ll be mad wi’ joy!” The thought of her mother was overwhelming. Her face cracked, and the tears she had been holding back for days spilled down her cheeks in a flood of relief, half choking her as she laughed and cried together. 

“Here, lassie, dinna weep!” he exclaimed in alarm. He let go of her arm and snatched a large, crumpled handkerchief from his sleeve. He patted tentatively at her cheeks, looking worried. 

“Dinna weep, a leannan, dinna be troubled,” he murmured. “It’s all right, m’ annsachd; it’s all right.” 

“I’m all right; everything’s all right. I’m just—happy,” she said. She took the handkerchief, wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “What does that mean—a leannan? And the other thing you said?” 

“You’ll not have the Gaelic, then?” he asked, and shook his head. “No, of course she wouldna have been taught,” he murmured, as though to himself. 

“I’ll learn,” she said firmly, giving her nose a last wipe. “A leannan?” 

A slight smile reappeared on his face as he looked at her. 

“It means ‘darling,’ ” he said softly. “M’ annsachd—my blessing.” 

The words hung in the air between them, shimmering like the leaves. They stood still, both stricken suddenly with shyness by the endearment, unable to look away from each other, unable to find more words. 

“Fa—” Brianna started to speak, then stopped, suddenly seized with doubt. What should she call him? Not Daddy. Frank Randall had been Daddy to her all her life; it would be a betrayal to use that name to another man—any other man. Jamie? No, she couldn’t possibly; rattled as he was by her appearance, he had still a formidable dignity that forbade such casual use. “Father” seemed remote and stern—and whatever Jamie Fraser might be, he wasn’t that; not to her. 

He saw her hesitate and flush, and recognized her trouble. 

“You can … call me Da,” he said. His voice was husky; he stopped and cleared his throat. “If—if ye want to, I mean,” he added diffidently. 

“Da,” she said, and felt the smile bloom easily this time, unmarred by tears. “Da. Is that Gaelic?” 

He smiled back, the corners of his mouth trembling slightly. 

“No. It’s only … simple.” 

And suddenly it was all simple. He held out his arms to her. She stepped into them and found that she had been wrong; he was as big as she’d imagined—and his arms were as strong about her as she had ever dared to hope.

the-bookish-soul  asked:

I meant to ask Feysand fluff fic I'm made you a cake

See my favorite thing as a writer is to write something totally off base of what might be expected from these prompts… I think I did that with this one… hope this is fluffy enough, friend. I’m kind of obsessed with it.

Feysand + “I made you a cake”

____________


“Mor, have I ever told you how much I completely and totally loathe you?”

“Oh quit being dramatic,” Rhys’s cousin snapped from where she stood between him and Azriel, her hand in his. “You’re the one who said you wanted a night out downtown with all of us!”

“I meant a night out drinking, Mor. Drinking. Alcohol. The cheap kind. And lots of it, preferably.”

“There will be alcohol!”

“Yeah Rhys, didn’t you read the pamphlet?” Cassian sauntered up to his friend, hooking an arm around his shoulder. “‘Wine and Canvas Painting.’ Sounds delightful, right? A real party. I mean I personally am gonna get so– ow! Quit it!”

Mor leaned over and pinched Cassian in the side to which he yelped.

“Don’t make fun,” Mor hissed. “My friend Feyre is still in the early stages of starting her own business, and I want to support her. And you guys support me, thus, we’re going to drink wine and paint some damn canvases or so help me you two will–”

“We’re here,” Azriel cut in smoothly.

Mor gave Rhys and Cassian one last glare that would have sent other men running before sauntering up the steps and opening the door to a little shop with an overhanging sign that read, “Velaris.”

“That’s a weird name,” Rhys grumbled to himself as he followed after his friends.

Once they were inside and had taken off their coats, Rhys glanced appreciatively at the space inside. It was… nice, he would give it that. Spacious and warm and full of light.

Mor’s friend - Feyre - apparently owned this little studio and taught art classes all throughout the week. And every other Friday she taught a 21 and up class where they served wine while doing canvas paintings.

And Mor, being Mor, thought it would be a great idea to do that this very weekend instead of going out to their favorite bar, the Illyrian, like they usually did.

“Well where is this friend of yours?” Cassian grumbled. “And where is the wine? If I’m doing this I need to be drinking.”

Rhys and Azriel laughed, but quieted instantly when Mor glared at them.

“She’s probably setting up or something. But her sister and Amren are over there, come on.”

“Amren’s here?” Azriel paled. Mor ignored the other two as they snickered and walked ahead.

“Amren! Nesta!” She called out. Two girls in the back row whipped their heads around.

Rhys recognized Amren, the terrifying woman that Mor had introduced him to a few times. The other one, Nesta, must be Feyre’s sister.

Amren just looked the boys up and down and huffed before turning back around in her seat.

Nesta rolled her eyes at Amren and gave Mor a forced smile. “Hey,” she said without much enthusiasm.

Mor went to reply and sit in the open seat next to Nesta, but the next thing they knew Cassian had practically shoved her aside and was careening to sit beside the young woman.

“Well hello there,” he said in his charming voice. “I’m Cassian. And you are?”

Nesta just stared at him, completely unaffected.

“You literally just heard her say my name,” she deadpanned. She looked back over at Mor. “Mor, who the hell is this guy?”

“I’m sorry.” Mor just rolled her eyes. “I told them to be on their best behavior, but I only have one of them trained.” Azriel narrowed his eyes at her but she only giggled and moved to sit down beside Amren and Azriel followed suit on her other side.

“Oh I can be on my best behavior,” Cassian continued, clearly not taking the hint. “I can be on whatever sort of behavior you want, sweetheart.”

He leaned in close to Nesta, giving her his best seductive look.

She was thoroughly unimpressed.

“Get your face the hell away from my face before I break it.”

Cassian’s brow shot up in surprise and Azriel and Rhys both snorted in laughter. His surprise soon turned into wicked delight.

“Oh just wait sweetheart, you’ll learn to love my face. In fact I’ll bet you’ll be painting it before the night is over. Or perhaps if my charm really sways you, you might even be s–”

“Do not finish that sentence and do… not… call me sweetheart,” Nesta seethed.

Rhys was just about to go sit on the other side of Azriel to avoid all of… that, when someone bumped into him from behind.

“Oh, oh I’m so sorry! I just… well I can’t really see right now so…”

Rhys turned to the voice only to be met with a stack of canvases stacked way too high for one person to be carrying. The stranger’s face was hidden behind the stack and it was clear she couldn’t see anything in front of her. He chuckled.

“Do you need some help there?” He offered.

“Nope!” The female voice chirped brightly. “Nope I am perfectly fine. Just fine.”

“Really?” He drawled. “Well then by all means, continue your trek.”

The person froze.

“Right. Yes. Continuing now.”

The woman turned slightly to the left, then slightly to the right. She took a small step forward only to bump into Rhys’s other shoulder.

“Dammit,” she hissed under her breath.

Rhys laughed openly, reaching forward to take half the stack off of her hands.

“Here, allow me.”

When the stack was considerably lowered, Rhys finally saw the stranger’s face - and felt like he had been sucker punched.

With her eyeline free now, the girl blew a stray strand of messy hair away from her face. Her eyes were blue-gray and absolutely stunning. She had a single purple streak of paint on her cheek that he had a feeling she had no idea was even there.

And then she smiled up at him.

“Thanks,” she said, clearly not noticing that he wasn’t even breathing. “Are you here for the class?”

“I uh…” he stumbled, unable to tear his eyes from hers.

What the hell was wrong with him, he didn’t get nervous around girls? Especially not ones with paint on their face and a stubborn attitude to boot.

“I…”

“Feyre!” Mor shouted suddenly, and the next thing Rhys knew his cousin was shoving him out of the way to give the woman an awkward hug over the canvases she held.

“Hey, Mor,” she said in a strained voice, giving Rhys a look that said ‘save me’ over Mor’s shoulder.

“I told you we would come.” Mor pulled back with a grin. “I brought Az, who you know, and then Cassian is the one over there about to get his balls ripped off by your sister, and it looks like you’ve already met my cousin, Rhys.”

“Yeah we… ran into each other,” Feyre said, smiling over at Rhys.

He could’ve died a happy man right then.

“Well I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to get the class started,” she continued apologetically.

“Oh it’s fine,” Mor said quickly as Feyre started to make her way up to the front of the room. Rhys followed awkwardly with his half of the canvases. “Oh and happy birthday!” Mor shouted suddenly.

Feyre froze, whirling towards Mor but running into Rhys yet again.

“It’s your birthday?” Rhys asked, his head cocked to the side.

Feyre paled. “Yes, but don’t say anything else please. I hate celebrating my birthday, it’s just so awkward.”

Rhys grinned, his earlier awkwardness melting away and turning into his usual suave because now he had an in with this girl.

“My lips are sealed Feyre, darling,” he said softly as he sat down his stack of canvases and stepped closer to her. She looked up at him a bit nervously.

“Allow me to formally introduce myself since my cousin thought she needed to do it for me,” he said smoothly, extending his hand. “I’m Rhysand.”

He noticed her shiver and grinned a bit wider.

“Feyre,” she replied, taking his hand. “Feyre Archeron. And please don’t call me darling.”

Rhys laughed, walking backwards towards his seat.

“Whatever you say, Feyre, darling.”

“You know if you keep calling me darling I’ll have to come up with a name for you too. How about prick?”

Ohhhh, he liked this girl already. His smile said as much.

He finally made it back to his seat, plopping down next to Azriel. Cassian and Nesta were still at each other’s throats.

Rhys was watching Feyre as she set up her own easel when Mor leaned across Azriel and pinched his arm.

“Ouch! What, Mor?”

Mor grinned like a fox.

“I knew you two would hit it off.”

“You… you planned this?”

Mor only laughed, leaning back in her seat and grabbing the glass of red wine in front of her as she spoke to Amren. Rhys looked at Azriel incredulously.

He just shrugged as if to say, ‘what can you do?’

The class started, and Rhys found himself captivated by Feyre yet again. She spoke about painting reverently, it was clear this was her passion. Her eyes lit up and her voice took on a tone he could listen to for the rest of his life.

Then when the actual canvas painting began, she walked around the room and answered questions, helping here and there. She stopped by Rhys’s row a couple of times, but only long enough to chat with her sister, Amren, or Mor before skittering off to another place in the room.

Rhys huffed as she avoiding his gaze for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

Mor giggled. “The chase not working out how it usually does for you, cousin?” She teased.

“Neither is his painting,” Azriel murmured.

Rhys cursed his brother, elbowing him in the side.

“What do you mean?” Mor asked. “What’s wrong with your… Rhysand!” She shouted, leaning across Azriel and smacking him in the chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Stop hitting me!” Rhys hissed. The rest of the class - and Feyre, he observed - was watching them. “And mind your own business. I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh do you?” Mor drawled. “Well then by all means, show us your wooing skills.”

Before Rhys could say another word, Feyre had sauntered up right next to him.

“Everything okay back here guys?”

“Oh yes,” Mor said before Rhys could get a word in edgewise. “Az and I were just observing how wonderful Rhys’s painting is.”

Oh Rhys was going to kill his cousin.

“That’s great!” Feyre said enthusiastically, meeting Rhys’s eyes finally.

“Yeah, super great. Go ahead, Rhys.” Mor propped her chin in her hand with a sly grin. “Show her.”

“Well, Mor,” he seethed, turning his easel so Feyre couldn’t see his painting. “I actually wanted to show Feyre darling here my painting when the class was over.”

“Oh but it’s just SO good Rhys, show her now.”

“Yeah, show me,” Feyre jumped back in. Rhys melted at her soft smile, feeling a bit like a prick now. “I bet it’s great.”

“Well…”

“Oh for goodness sake.”

Mor leaned across Azriel for a third time, turning Rhys’s easel towards Feyre herself.

“Mor!”

Feyre’s jaw dropped when she saw that Rhys had painted a… cake.

A terrible looking cake with blue frosting and candles that looked like sticks. And in black paint he had written across the top, “Happy Birthday, Feyre Darling.”

She was silent for a few seconds and Rhys thought she might have stopped breathing.

“You…”

“I made you a cake,” Rhys finally said. It sounded infinitely stupider when he said it out loud. “Since it’s your birthday and I just thought… you’re smiling. Is that a good thing? Did I do something right or are you showing me pity?”

Feyre snorted, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I love it,” she said in between her laughter. “I mean it looks… utterly horrendous–”

“Hey now, this is exquisite.”

“But it’s very sweet of you,” she said, meeting his eyes with a genuine smile.

Rhys felt his own lips tilting upward at the corners of their own accord.

“Anything for you, Feyre darling.”

Feyre’s smile dropped and she rolled her eyes.

“You had to go and ruin it, didn’t you, you prick. Call me darling one more time tonight and I won’t go out with you when you ask me after class.”

“Oh I’m asking you on a date now, am I?” He asked, mouth turned up in wicked delight.

“Well you better. You already made me cake,” she gestured to the painting. “Now you have to buy me dinner.”

He met her teasing eyes and realized he was already in deep shit and he didn’t mind at all.

“Anything you want.”

anonymous asked:

Oh my GOD. 1 with Jeddy for the unrequited love ask. I'm sorry.

oh GOD

Every time James saw Teddy it got harder to hold in.

Every look, every smile Teddy sent his way,  even if it was all the way from the Hufflepuff table, the confession, the feelings, got harder to hold back. It got all the way to the point where James was literally swallowing the words and biting his tongue in an effort to respond with a ‘hello’ and not ‘I love you’ when Teddy bumped shoulders with him in the hallway. James can’t even think how he’s been getting through their Tuesday library “study” sessions. They never actually get any work done, and just end up sneaking sweets from the kitchens and, on this night as it was particularly warm, heading down to the lake and collapsing under the old tree there. And the words are on the tip of his tongue with every laugh that causes Teddy to squeeze his eyes shut and throw his head back.

They’re right there when they’re laying, shoulder brushing shoulder, in the grass, staring up at the infinite sky.

“This is probably one of my favorite things to do in the world.” Teddy sighed, lacing his fingers over his chest, “Just, how can someone look up at that, all those stars and not be… fucking amazed?”

James snorted, “Well I think you have enough enthusiasm about it to make up for a few people not caring.”

Teddy laughed, elbowing James softly in the side and shaking his head, “Sod off. It’s brilliant.” They lapsed into silence for a moment and James watched Teddy watch they sky. Teddy turned his head, fixing his eyes on James, “You love it don’t you, James?”

James swallowed, eyebrows raising and cheeks flushing slightly at how close Teddy was. He blinked a few times, “I..” And the words- the words are right theretherethere, “I love- you.”

Teddy sucked in his breath a little. He stared at James, James stared at Teddy. The summer night air suddenly felt too hot around James. And when Teddy let out the first laugh, it was practically suffocating him.

Teddy cooed at him, “Aw, Jamie, I love you too!” Teddy let out another laugh, eyes squeezing shut. James just laid there, looking at him, feeling like he wanted to sink right into the grass.

“Merlin. I wasn’t expecting you to say that.” He let out a few last laughs between words, looking back to James, “And the look on your face, talk about-“

James watched Teddy’s smile falter as, he was fairly sure, the look Teddy had seen was still written across his face. Only it was no doubt mixed with mortification.

“Real…” Teddy finished softly, smile dropping and being replaced by guilt and realization. He opened his mouth to say something a few times but never did.

James tore his eyes away, “I-“ He could barely get the words out of his throat, “sorry.”

Teddy sat up on his elbows, “I- Fuck. No, James-“

“No, I think that’s all there is too it.” James sat up too, facing away from Teddy and pretending to gather his cloak that he’d bunched on the grass as a pillow. His cheeks burned, his eyes burned, he wished he could burn.

He felt Teddy’s fingers against his shoulder and he stood up, “Please.” James said shortly, “I-“ James stooped, snatching up his cloak, “Let’s just-“

James-“

“Don’t, T. Teddy…“ He corrected himself.

Teddy stood too, pulse wild underneath his skin. He couldn’t stand the hunched way James was standing, the way his back was towards him. The way his hand was shaking at his side. He took a step forward when James let out a breath, but hesitated in touching him again.

“Please look at me,” he tried carefully, “James, I didn’t- I didn’t think-“

“Yeah, I know.” James’ hand raised to his face and Teddy knew he was rubbing at his eyes, his temples. He sighed, letting his hand drop. He still didn’t turn around, “I know and this really- really can’t get any worse for me right now so please, just-“

He made a motion, palm pushing out towards the ground.

Just don’t it said.

He left Teddy standing there under the tree, guilt eating him up inside and desperately wanting to call out his name.

Promise - Namjoon

Warnings: mentions of cheating, implications of sex

Request: “Hi~ if it’s no trouble, could I request a Drabble? numbers 74,142 and 175 with namjoon please! you can choose whether it’s fluff or angst :) I also wanted to say I love your writing so much! Keep it up”

74. “Your eyes are red… were you crying?”
142. “I figured you shouldn’t be alone.”
175. “I can see it on your face.”

Word Count: 1156

Genre: Fluff

•·.··.·• •·.··.·•

You were broken. After walking in on your boyfriend - now ex - practically devouring your best friend, Irene, who you thought you could have trusted, you came to the conclusion that every relationship you would have, romantic or platonic, would simply end in misery and betrayal. It was almost as if all of your past boyfriends just wanted you for your body. You didn’t know if you could trust anyone anymore. You began to think that your closest friends would eventually betray you, even though you knew deep down inside that they would stay by you.

And of course, you knew Kim Namjoon would always be with you.

Limbs sprawled and dried tears, you lay on your bed in trepidation of what your future was to be. You couldn’t help but think that all hope for you was lost, and that you would never love anybody again. The thought of seeing Jumin pinning Irene to the wall, lips connected and faces flushed - you almost felt sick to your stomach.

That image of Jumin and Irene only made the pain in your chest grow, and urged you to let out the tears you’ve been holding back for sleepless nights. You held your knees to your chest and sobbed into the sheets beneath you, not caring if the entire world heard you at that moment. You had the right to be upset, especially after seeing Jumin grinding his hips against your friend, his left hand riding up her shirt while his right hand slid down beneath-

Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of your cell phone blaring beside your ear, the familiar ringtone letting you know that your best friend, Namjoon, was trying to reach you, but you didn’t want to talk to him. You didn’t want to talk to anyone. He didn’t even know about what you were going through, but all he knew is that you weren’t showing up to school, and that meant something definitely wasn’t right with you, since you had never missed a day of school - until now.

The constant ringing of your phone drove on for at least half an hour, bringing you to the point where you angrily grabbed your phone and shut it off, tossing it to the other side of your bedroom, sighing in relief of the silence. Unfortunately, you forgot about how persistent Namjoon was, so when you heard someone banging on your front door, you groaned and ignored them, hoping that they would leave soon. You knew it was Namjoon, but that pushed you ever further to ignore him.

“Y/N! I know you’re in there!” You heard him yell, the pounding on the door growing louder by the second. Suddenly, you heard your front door slam shut, and that’s when you remembered that you had given Namjoon a key to your house only a few weeks ago. He was already halfway down the hall when you jolted up and ran to your door, attempting to lock it, but he was too quick and opened the door before your hand could even touch the doorknob.

“Go away,” You said before trying to push him out, but he quickly grabbed your wrists and embraced you, moving his hands to your head and pulling you closer to his body.

“I was so worried,” He mumbled into your hair.

“Joonie, please, just go.”

He slightly pulled away in confusion at your words, his hands softly cupping your cheeks and his forehead pressed against yours.

“Your eyes are red… were you crying?” He asked, concern written all over his face. You couldn’t stand to see his pained expression, so you slowly nodded then looked down.

“J-Jumin-” You managed to gasp out, but you immediately choked on your own tears as Namjoon pulled you closer, hugging you tighter than he had ever before. You felt your knees buckle, and Namjoon slowly fell to the ground with you, the overwhelming silence taking over the sullen mood surrounding you. “Why did you come, Namjoon?”

“I figured you shouldn’t be alone,” He whispered, running his fingers through your hair as you quietly sobbed into his shirt. “Eunhee told me about him and Irene. I’m so sorry, Y/N. You don’t deserve this. You don’t.”

Minutes passed as you lay in his arms, but you managed to gather yourself and look up at Namjoon, who mumbled to himself as he wiped away your tears with his thumbs. You stayed like this for a while, your cheeks held by his soft hands, gazes averted as silence fell over the room.

“Y/N…” Namjoon spoke, slightly lifting your head to allow your eyes to meet with his.

“You love me, don’t you?” You said abruptly, causing Namjoon’s mouth to stay agape as he stared at you, wondering if you had really just asked him such a thing.

“I-I… well I-I wouldn’t say-” He began to stutter, but you cut him off by leaning forward and pressing your lips to his. He froze in shock, but slowly melted into the kiss, bringing his arms to hook around the back of your neck. You disconnected your lips with his, yet still stayed in close proximity to his reddened face.

“I can see it on your face. You love me.”

Namjoon sighed and shifted his gaze down to the carpet, deciding to spill his secrets to you.

“I do. I love you, Y/N.” You almost flinched at his words, but you knew ultimately that he wasn’t like your previous boyfriends. Namjoon was kind. He was understanding. He was gentle. He knew you better than your own family. He was your family. He had always stuck with you through the rough times. He had cared about you, and he would always care about you. You trusted him with your life, and now you were just realizing that the answer was in front of you all along? After so many years of scattered thoughts and conflicted emotions, you finally knew he was the one.

“Namjoon, can you teach me how to love again?” You asked, almost desperate for a positive answer from him. Surprisingly, instead of an answer, he kissed you softly, cupping your cheeks as you simply melted at his touch. He pulled away with a gentle smile on his face, showcasing his dimples, one of your many favorite features of him.

“As long as you promise to stay by me,” He said, and you quickly nodded before quickly pecking his lips.

“I promise.”

•·.··.·• •·.··.·•

lmao this was so shit I’m so sorry

vulpix sprite ratings

Pokemon Red/Blue: The beginnings of vulpix. Cute but the eyes are staring into my soul. I’m scared. 5/10

Pokemon Yellow: Starting to get cuter! Vulpix looks as though she wants to run to your side. I welcome her any day. 7/10

Pokemon Gold: Still jumping upwards. Looks as though she now wants to leap into your arms. My heart is filled with joy. 8/10

Pokemon Silver: What have you done to offend this fluffy ball of joy? Vulpix is ready to attack and feels threatened. However it makes a cute face when angry. 7/10

Pokemon Ruby/Sapphire: She sits patiently like a good girl. Very deserving of a treat. Look how nice and obedient she is. 9/10

Pokemon Emerald: Looks like Vulpix is cornered and currently very scared. Needs a hug. 8/10

Pokemon FireRed/LeafGreen: Almost the same as the Ruby/Sapphire Vulpix. Still adorable but has better proportions. My heart cannot contain the cuteness. 10/10

Pokemon Diamond/Pearl/Platinum: Come back, Vulpix! What are you running away from? Are we playing tag? Such a spunky trickster. I love her. 8/10

Pokemon HeartGold/SoulSilver: Approaches with the sweetest face. Wants to be your friend. I’m crying. I love Vulpix so much. 10/10

Pokemon Black/White: Ears are pointier. Not as soft. Looks off into the distance and is a very aloof Vulpix. 8/10

Pokemon X/Y/ORAS/Sun/Moon: Top Quality Vulpix. Warm, fluffy friend that will love you until the end of her days. I want to pet and give her love. 10/10

tl;dr: I love Vulpix with my entire being and I want 50 of them. All Vulpix are good Vulpix. 10/10