it looks a little better full size


Quick and easy guide to silk layering.

A few things worth noting:

The top image is a reference to show what each set of silks looks like on it’s own.

The golden tail bangle is broken because it’s not semitransparent. It’s opaque, and won’t show what’s beneath it unlike all the other things.

Because of how I made these (where each full set is a layer), where the wing silks overlap the sash is a little funky. For best results when dressing a real dragon layer both colors of one piece over both colors of the other piece for better looking layering.

Colors may vary a bit from breed to breed. 

These images are full size. Open them in a new tab/window for best viewing.

anonymous asked:

Heyyyy, your writing is life. I LOVE YOUR BLOG SO MUCH! Could you please do wolfstar headcanons where Remus has...werewolfy tendencies? Does that make sense? Like he's dominant and possessive and marky. I'm not making sense.

Thank you!!! <3 And you most definitely make sense yES:

  • Remus doesn’t like people touching Sirius too much
  • Not hand shaking, or back patting, or hair ruffling- just no.
  • Remus doesn’t like it.
  • He has an especially rough time containing this fact
  • So, because of this, Quidditch after-parties (especially ones where Sirius has done rather well in the previous game) are not his thing
  • Because that’s all people jumping on Sirius and hugging him and giving him jokingly sloppy kisses on his cheek and messing up his hair and everything that Remus and Remus only should be allowed to do
  • And he tries to just sit there and ignore it. He tries to just drink his butterbeer and not watch but he can hear it
  • He can hear the “Well done, Black!” and the hand shake and the “Fuck yeah, Sirius!” And the hug
  • And he knows that when they’re in bed together later that night he’ll be able to smell all these other people all over him and he hates that
  • Because Sirius is his
  • And if he’s going to smell like anything other than himself it will be Remus
  • So his grip on his drink slowly gets tighter and his eyes get narrower and the angrier he gets the more heightened his senses become which is not helping
  • The final straw is Angie Rosebow and Caroline Courflush kissing Sirius on each cheek at the same time and no no no those cheeks are not theirs they are Remus’ they have no right he’sminehe’snottheirsstoptouchinghimstopstopstophe’sminestop
  • And the next thing he knows he’s flinging his drink down on the table and grabbing Sirius out of their clutches and pushing him behind him and fucking growling at the two giggling girls
  • They stop their giggling immediately and stare at him in shock
  • “Whoa, Moons, alright there, love?”
  • Remus whirls around and growling out a “you’re mine” through his teeth, low enough for only Sirius to hear
  • Sirius is just as shocked as the two girls behind them are but at the same time all his blood seems to be rushing downwards because Remus is flushed and he’s got a bruising grip on Sirius’ hips and he’s fucking hot and calling Sirius his and he’s so turned on right now
  • “Y-Yeah…”
  • Remus just shoots one more glance at the party and he knows he can’t stand it anymore, “C’mon.”
  • He pulls Sirius up the dorm staircase and into their dorm room. He locks the door and throws some locking and silencing charms up which instantly makes Sirius’ heart beat faster because what is about to happen
  • Before he can think much else he’s being shoved against a wall and Remus is attacking his mouth and tugging at his clothes, “need to get their fucking scents off of you…”
  • And Sirius doesn’t really know what the hell he’s on about but if it involves taking their clothes off he’s all for it.
  • Pretty soon Remus has got all Sirius’ clothes in a pile far away from their bed and he’s just attacking Sirius’ neck and shoulders and Sirius feels his teeth so many times he thinks he’s going to pass out from the sheer intensity of it all
  • “You’re mine, Sirius. Promise me.”
  • Fuck- I’m yours. I’m yours, holy shit, Moons.”
  • He thinks he might have passed out because the next thing he knows, he’s waking up with Remus curled up next to him, much more peaceful
  • He watches Remus sleep for a little bit before he decides he better get up and get ready for classes
  • He walks sleepily into the bathroom, prepared to start brushing his teeth but stops dead in front of the sink when he sees his reflection
  • His shoulders and neck- fuck, his entire torso- his hips even, are positively covered with purple and red marks, ranging from small little nips to full on and rounded bruises roughly the size of a Galleon
  • “Merlin,” Sirius stares at himself in amazement, turning and looking over his shoulder to see more - they trail down his shoulder blades to his wing bones - light, red nail marks are sunk into his skin
  • “God, Remus.” Sirius whispers to himself, “What the- Merlin.”
  • “Morning-” James stops dead in his tracks towards the sinks, his eyes fixed on Sirius. His eyes slowly get wider and wider, “For fucks sake. What did he do to you?”
  • Sirius stutters, “I-”
  • “No. No I don’t want to know-”
  • “Morning.” Comes another, softer voice from the doorway
  • James gives Sirius a little salute and quickly names his exit (”I did not need to see that.”)
  • “Remus!” Sirius gestures wildly to himself, “Wha-” He turns back towards the mirror, “For Merlin’s sake!”
  • Remus just walks up to Sirius and wraps both arms around him from behind, gazing at Sirius in the mirror intensely 
  • It’s then that Sirius notices just how good Remus smells - not like a store bought scent though… like he’s just radiating off… him. His own thick scent that can only be described as Remus and it’s like it’s surrounding them
  • “Remus-?” But the next thing Sirius knows Remus is pressing his nose deep into Sirius’ neck and inhaling.
  • Sirius feels frozen as he feels Remus’ grip tighten, his eyes flutter close for a second before they flash back open as Remus very gently bites over one of Sirius’ already sensitive marks
  • Remus straightens back up with a pleased smile on his face, pressing a kiss to one of the larger marks on Sirius’ shoulder and nodding to himself, “Much better.”


anonymous asked:

i'm curious why you don't support using prosthetics on horses- is that specific to horses, or your feelings on animal prosthetics in general? if it's just horses, is it a specific problem with prosthetics for them? i'm genuinely curious, since it's something i honestly don't know much about

 Copy and pasting my response on the post in the comments- 

If you actually watch videos of some of these horses with prosthetics they can hardly even walk with a fake leg usually having a horrible limp or moving about slowly. 99% of them are locked up stalls because they can’t go out and run and be normal horses. My question would be, WHY prosthetics? What would encourage a person to put a shit ton of money towards making an animals life lower in quality? I don’t mind them in dogs and smaller animals… but in horses, elephants, cows… it just doesn’t seem far to them. Due to their size they were MEANT to have 4 legs. That’s why so many 3 legged horses have issues in the shoulders and backs, because all their weight is now unevenly distributed, and most prosthetics I’ve seen offer little support on the matter. Most people who put the effort into getting a prosthetic for their horses/ponies are only doing it for themselves and to make themselves feel better about “saving” something. I have never seen a happy looking full grown equine with 3 legs. 

Draw Again Meme

This was my first digital dino, an ace pride Velociraptor, drawn freehand:

(Post and full size here.)

Boy howdy, is that ugly.

Now, I decided to redo this dino - another freehand Velociraptor with no references, just to keep it fair.

(Post and full size here.)

Much better! The snout and general head shape is better, the legs and neck are not quite so long, lanky and undermuscled, the feet are much better, the hand is better, the wing actually looks like a wing now, and the tail fan has been updated. It’s also slightly fluffier and the design is much sleeker.’

The second one is still a little bit off accurate, but it’s close enough to look stylised rather than just plain wrong. It should probably be a bit slimmer and look much more sleek - the tail should be much thinner, and the legs should probably be a little less meaty.  But, again - much closer than the first!!!

Hope you’ve enjoyed this little before-and-after dino art comparison.

Canine Cupid | Minghao

Summary: Your dog becomes your personal cupid, but rather than shooting love arrows, your dog has a special way of getting the message across.

Words: 0.8 k

Genre: Fluuuuff with a sprinkle of cliche.

A/N: an incredibly weird first scenario on this blog, but bear with me as I stumble through this.

“Y’know, having a dog does mean you need to get off your lazy ass and walk it,” your best friend muttered amusedly, genuinely curious how you, a social hermit, could keep a small canine alive and happy. The pleading puppy dog eyes from across the hills of her cotton sheets were enough for your best friend to take initiative.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Sans and Papyrus end up changing into Blaster mode while at the beach with the others, but they decide to enjoy themselves anyway because they don't want to waste the day.

(okay anon this is less of a drabble and sorta morphed into a quick one-shot. i hope that’s okay)

< …at least wait until your joints stop achin’, bro, >

A low growl sounded. The blurred image of a large skeletal beast appeared beside him, trying in vain to stand up.


< you just shifted. don’t push it. > A small cloud of sand formed at his sigh. < you’ve seen the pool signs, yeah? no running. >


Sans chuckled. < you said it, pap. >

Papyrus’ limbs trembled, and he collapsed in the sand with a huff.

Well. This sure was a mess.

Keep reading

Sim Cosplay / Costume tag

Created by @cherrygrapesims 

-Use a sim or sims well associated with your blog.
-You are not allowed to change any of your sims features: Hair color, eye color, facial features and shape, or body shape. You can loophole eyes by using contacts and changing hairstyle is acceptable.
-Dress your sim(s) up as a character or characters that they relate to.

Tagged by @inabadromance​, thank you ❤️

It took me a long time to figure what I wanted to do with this tag since there’s so many fandoms that I love. So I decided to dress my babies as Hogwarts students! Looks like they all got their letters a little (a lot) late, but I think they turned out pretty cute. The hardest part was thinking about what house the belonged to, but I think I got it right.

Poses by @rinvalee

Gonna tag @talesofascrewup @zauglom @beverlyallitsims @tinwhistletoo @dreamteamsims @effymaysims @crownsims @something-wicked-sims @lovelychooser

SH: -And then those idiots could not grasp the concept of pointed toes! Pointed toes, John! It’s Elementary! Fundamentals! And if Anderson misses his cue one more time I swear I will-

JW: -Okay okay okay, Sherlock! *chuckles* I think I get it. You had a great time at practice today.

SH: Did you not hear me, John? It was very much the opposite of th-

JW: Sarcasm, Sherlock.

SH: ..Hm. Yes.

JW: ….Sooo, because you asked me so kindly-

SH: I didn’t ask you about anythi-

JW: -my day went pretty well. Practice was grueling, but Greg got tackled so hard I’m pretty sure he did a full flip, so that made the whole day a lot better.

SH: …..

JW: …..

SH: …..

JW: ….Lestrade.

SH: Ah. Yes.

JW: …Anyway, I left practice in a good mood. On my way to come pick you up, I, uh, stepped into a little shop and…got you something.

SH: *stares*

JW: *sweats*

SH: …your incessant shuffling and constant attempts of distracting me so I won’t look behind your back - which is a quite childish way to hide things, John - gave that away yet the object is not visible at any point therefore it must not be of significant size nor weight seeing as it has not effected the weight distribution in your steps the tread patterns in your shoes and dirt residue can only be located in-


SH: ….*closes mouth*

JW: Stop deducing. *pinches bridge of nose* *sighs* Can’t I just surprise you once?

SH: You always surprise me, John. That’s why I enjoy your presence so much over the other idiots at our school.

JW: …Oh. Er, cheers then…Um, anyway, here. *takes out stuffed bee*


JW: I know you hate stuffed animals and basically anything enjoyable, but I just walked past it and thought of you. Plus, I’ve seen all of those bee books you tuck in between your crimonology and chemistry textbooks. 




JW: …*sweats*…Are…you okay?

SH: ….*blinks rapidly*

JW: ….Okay, I mean if you don’t like it you don’t have t-

SH: …I-I love it, John….Thank you.

JW: …*smiles*….You’re welcome, Sherlock.

How to make a cosplay Keyblade the cheap, lazy, and inefficient way (but hey it looks pretty cool from a moderate distance)

I’ve had a lot of questions as to how I make my Keyblades. To be honest, I don’t really endorse following my methods if you want to be a ~serious~ cosplayer, because they are cheap, lazy, inefficient, and look pretty crummy up-close. A lot of my “techniques” are based around questions like:

  1. Are the materials simple enough that I can procure them without needing to ask an employee for help? Better yet, can I get some materials at someplace like Target? Because I also need milk and band-aids so I’ll be there anyway…
  2. Can I carry it all up to my third-floor apartment by myself with minimal effort?
  3. Can I assemble it in said apartment very quietly because I hate to be a bother to my neighbors?

But I said several times that I’d make a tutorial anyway, so here it is: How to make a cosplay Keyblade the cheap, lazy, and inefficient way (but hey it looks pretty cool from a moderate distance). Please note that this method is pretty much just for designs with plain shafts, where you only have to worry about making the guard and the “teeth” end.

The super short version:

  • Get a stick
  • Glue foam board to it
  • Cover that foam board with craft foam
  • Cover everything with paint

Unnecessarily long version, including random dos and don’ts based on mistakes I’ve made (Sorry if the long-winded over-explanations insult your intelligence, but I’m actually really bad at arts and crafts and didn’t realize a lot of obvious things until I did them wrong):

Keep reading

How to Choose Your Altar

One of the most intimidating aspects of Wicca when I first began practicing was the idea of setting up the altar. You always hear how the altar is the “focal point of our religion” or “the most sacred place”, and what have you. When I first started I was determined to get it right. But, to my dismay, after hours of research I had fifty different ways of setting up the altar and zero clue with what I was doing.

If you happen to find yourself in the very same position, let me try to help…

Keep reading

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday! A Wonderful Breakfast (A Edward Nygma x Reader Story One Shot)

This is for a friend of mine, who may not ever see this on this site, but that doesn’t mean you all can’t see it too!

General: Imagine it’s the reader’s birthday. They wake up to a visitor in their apartment. Fluffy and smutty birthday activities ensue.

Warnings: Fluffy and Smutty, so yea….sexy times.


You were stirred from sleep to a loud crashing noise, the sound of something glass or porcelain shattering outside of your bedroom door. You shot up, instantly awake. Grabbing the old broom handle you kept by the bedside and holding it up. Ever since your neighbor across the hall said his apartment had been broken into, you kept the rod close by whenever you were alone, just in case. Slowing you creep towards the bedroom door, trying to not let whoever it was who made the noise notice you were still in the apartment.

Today was your birthday and one of the last things you wanted to deal with today was an altercation with a thief. But you also couldn’t just let them make a mess of your apartment and you especially couldn’t afford to replace anything major if they were to steal it.  

You open your bedroom door excruciatingly slow so it wouldn’t creek. You tip toe down the hallway glancing into your luckily empty and seemingly untouched bathroom. When you reach the end of the hallway your breath catches in your throat as you hear a few more noises from the far end of the combination living room and kitchen that was the rest of your apartment. Someone was definitely in your kitchen. You grip your broom handle tighter and take a deep breath to steady your nerves before slowing sneaking around the corner into the room to confront your intruder.

The sweet smell of cinnamon and warm bread hit you as soon as you step out into the room. When you glance around you quickly see your intruder. Well, he wasn’t too much of an intruder after all since he had a key to your apartment. You sigh quietly and set the rod down, leaning it against the wall. Your boyfriend had his back to you as he pulled something that smelled heavenly out of your oven. You watched him for a moment. He set the tray of what had to be homemade cinnamon rolls on the far side of the counter before rushing back to the stove to take the tea kettle off that started to whistle at that moment. He may have been tall, lanky, and quite awkward most of the time, but at the moment he sashayed from one end of your kitchen to the other with a graceful ease that was enchanting to watch. You knew he was an expert cook and loved to do so, but it was also obvious he was comfortable in your kitchen. This warmed your heart, knowing he felt so at home in your home.

Smiling wide you took a few more steps towards him, just as you reached the middle of the room he heard you coming and turned around. “Good Morning Eddy” you greet him.

His focused face softened at the sight of you. “Good Morning!” He chimed, and then his face fell into a little pout. “It seems I wasn’t fast enough. I really wanted to have your breakfast all ready before you woke up. I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”

“Maybe it’s better this way. Now we could eat together. Plus I bet I would make a mess if I tried to eat in bed.” You looked at the spread across the table he already had prepared for breakfast. There was a bowl of halved strawberries and other chopped fruits, a plate full of bite size quiches, a couple bakery rolls and various butters and jams, freshly poured tea as well as orange juice, and those cinnamon rolls that were as gorgeous as they smelled. “This all looks amazing by the way” You felt like you must have been drooling over the options before you.

He walked up to you and hugged you close to him. Oh he even smelled like a bakery. You couldn’t help but take a deep breath as you leaned into his chest. This was so much better than the smell of death and chemicals he often smelled like when first getting out of work. “I’m glad you like it.” He said softly as he placed a kiss on top of your head. You look up at him, standing on your toes to kiss him properly. You intended a brief, innocent kiss of gratitude, but quickly lost yourself in the feeling of him. His arms wrapped tighter around you and your own arm encircled his neck so you could tangle your fingers in his hair. You stood like this for what could have been hours. It didn’t matter to you, your shared leisurely kisses where a perfect start to the morning.

Gradually your kisses became deeper and more fervent. Edward took a few steps forward causing you to back into the counter. You were used to him invading your personal space all the time, but this was so much more intimate than him standing too close when you talked or hung out. This was all of him pressed tightly against you. This was his hands roaming up and down your back. This was his presence surrounded you from every angle. You loved it.

You had to break the kiss to breath properly; your head was starting to get hazing from his increasingly demanding kisses. He smiled wickedly at you, “We should give the cinnamon rolls a few more minutes to cool, don’t you think?” As he spoke he took his glasses off to set them securely on a shelf above you. You couldn’t take your eyes off his hand as he did. You knew you were in for a treat any time he removed his glasses. He always seemed so much more in control without them, which didn’t make sense considering he needed them to see anything more than a couple feet away from him, but a lot of things about Edward didn’t make much sense. You had always enjoyed trying to understand those oddities about him.

You nod to answer his question; mouth suddenly dry and unable to formulate a response as you see his pupils dilate and his eyes darken in front of you. Suddenly his lips were attached to your jaw line, kissing up to your ear. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered roughly against you ear.

“Not my fault you’ve been working so much lately.” You manage to push out. He chuckles in response, his warm breath against your skin sending a jolt through you. His hands running down your back again, this time not stopping at your lower back. He pulled at your hips bringing you just far enough from the counter he could continue to run his hands lower. They traveled down over the curve of your ass, which you just realized was only covered by your underwear. You were only wearing one of his undershirts and your underwear. You did just wake up after all, and you didn’t think to pull on more clothes before investigating the crashing noise. He gently squeezed your ass before lifting you up to set you on the counter top in front of him. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist and use them to pull him back to you.

You kissed again, not wasting any time in truly tasting his mouth. Your fingers gripped his hair causing him to let out a low moan into your kiss. The vibration on your lips fueled you to start unbuttoning his shirt.  He was wearing far too many clothes, especially compared to you. You had only a thin layer separating you from him. You could feel his fingers burning through your shirt. It didn’t take long for you to unbutton his shirt and slide it off his shoulders. Now you each wore the same thin cotton shirt.  You thought he was so sexy in his undershirts. They were slightly too tight and clung to his chest and shoulders in a way that drove you insane with desire. Little did you know, his shirt on you was causing him to feel the same desire. The thin material hung lightly on you, doing nothing to hide every movement and bounce of your breasts. They were too enticing like that. His hands now slid under your shirt gliding up your sides, thumbs following the contours of your breasts as his hands slid up. He smiles into your kiss at the feeling of how erect your nipples were already. You shutter as he moves both hands to fondle each breast properly. His lips left yours to attach themselves to your neck. He left a trail of hot kisses from your ear down to you collar bone, where he started to nip at the skin there.

You felt like you were on fire. His lips were so soft but so hot. His hands were so warm on your skin. You felt your own warmth between your legs intensify. You wrapped your legs around him as tight as you could. Then thrust your hips against his, just looking for a little friction against your center. You could feel his erection straining through his pants. That was enough for your mind to go hazy again as you rubbed your center against him more. You pull his shirt out of his pants enough to slip our hand underneath, tracing circles on his lower back. You knew he was very sensitive there.

He felt his hips quiver from the feeling of you; he pressed himself against your heat as best he could. His body couldn’t help but respond to the rich sensation of both your fingers and your insistent rubbing against his cock. The thought of rutting into your very core flashed before his eyes. Oh, how he just wanted to feel your heat encasing him as he pounded into you. You always felt so so good. But today he needed to make you feel good.

He quickly grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, tossing it behind him. You looked so gorgeous to him. Your hair was tousled and unruly, your cheeks rosy and lips swollen, your skin radiant in the morning light, your magnificent breasts were flushed and heaving with ever quick breath you took. Still to this day, he wasn’t completely sure why you wanted him, why you let him enjoy this bounty of beauty that you offered. Anyone he could ask would say you were miles out of his league, and he’d have to agree with them. Yet here you were baring yourself to him and moaning his name softy as he pinched one of your nipples with one hand and the other trailed down to grip your hip tightly and rub himself against you. It was incredible.

“Incredible,” he voiced his thought out loud before placing a firm kiss upon your lips. You hummed into his kiss, agreeing completely to his thought. When he released your lips he continues to kiss you. He brought his lips now to place a couple kisses on each of your breasts, then trailed kisses down your stomach. He sucked on a spot by your hip, causing a gasp from you. Your desire laced voice only driving him onward. He bent down slightly as he pulled at your hips forward until you rested on the very edge of the counter.

His strong hands lifted you up slightly, enough to slip your panties off and discard them in the general direction of your shirt. He spread you legs open wide, letting his fingers skim across the skin of your inner thighs. The way his fingers danced over your hips and thighs was incredible, but so frustrating. You watched his long, slender fingers get so close to your center before going back and sliding down your thighs again. All you suddenly could think about was all the amazing things you knew those fingers could do if they just reached a little further. You tried to catch his eyes to silently plead with him to continue, but when you looked at his face, you were taken aback. He was level with your crotch, just watching you. He looked at is if he was admiring artwork in a museum. He had such a peaceful smile across his face. You squirm in place the next time his fingers come close, hoping just maybe you could get the touch you needed. His smile widened and became more and more sinister the as he watched your hips shake for his touch.

“Eddy-“ You whimper in your throat. How long could he possibly tease you? “Eddy please.” You whine, more desperate as his index finger glides over your clit, just barely touching the bud. The feather light touch was enough though to make your cry out.

‘Such a pitiful little cry’ he thought to himself. The fact that you wanted him that much was intoxicating, and very empowering. “Today, anything for you.” He mumbled lowly.

The feeling of his tongue on you was electrifying. He licked along your folds twice before plunging one of those slender fingers deep into you as he sucked hard on your clit. Your head fell back as you inhaled deeply. You tried to catch your breath but with every meticulous press of his finger you lost your breath over and over. Soon enough he had two fingers pumping into you and you were pressing back, rocking you hips in time to his rapid movements. Each one pressed against your insides with such purpose. He knew exactly where to apply pressure to make drive you insane. Dating someone with such a strong knowledge of anatomy never disappointed. It didn’t take long before the combo of his tongue and fingers make you start to tremble everywhere. “Oh!” You pant. You ran a hand down your warm skin to find his shoulder, squeezing it hard to warm him you were so close, but he didn’t back off. Instead he slipped a third finger along the others and rubbed insistently against the most sensitive spot inside you. You felt your whole body tense up as he swirled his tongue around your little nub, adding that final bit of sensation. Your climax erupted through you, you closed you eyes, arched your back, you fingers dug into his shoulder, your voice coming out in a high pitched whine.

Edward placed little kisses across your thighs while you took a moment to let your orgasm washed over you. When your breathing calmed a bit, he pulled his fingers out. He brought those glistening fingers to his mouth and licked off your juices, humming contently as he did. You watched wide eyed, the sight renewing the fire inside you. As soon as he moved his hand away from his lips, you pounced. You kissed him frenzied, sliding your tongue in his mouth to taste yourself on his tongue. You grip his head on either side, making sure he couldn’t go anywhere.  You were too preoccupied by the kiss to notice him unfastening his pants to slip out of them along with his underwear. When you broke the kiss to smile at him, he wasted no time pulling his undershirt over his head. It was then you realized he now stood naked before you. You raise an eyebrow at him as he slipped one arm under your knees and the other around your back. Effortlessly he picked you up like a princess and walked over to the couch. As you passed the table you pointed out how the rolls were getting cold now, definitely cool enough to eat.

He chuckled darkly, “Oh, I am not done with you yet. You can eat in a little bit.” With that he dropped you onto the couch and situated himself above you. He pulled your legs up, placing them over his hips then reaching over your head to grasp the side of the couch with one arm. Sometimes Ed was the sweetest, most gentle lover you could ever imagine. Many times when you were tangled in each other, he’d whisper endless endearments into your ears with each slow but deep movement into you. Other times, he was anything but sweet. This time was definitely going to be the latter, you could tell by the look in his eyes and the darkness laced in his voice. You were correct, without warning he plunged his cock into you completely. He paused only a moment to watch in case any pain crossed your face, before starting a ferocious pace. Much like his fingers before, Ed knew exactly how to move his hips to assert pressure in all the best places.  

You grasp his back, his shoulders, anywhere you could reach because that is all you could do to stay rooted in reality. Your senses all went into overdrive at the same time. All you could smell was cinnamon, sweat, and pure sex. All you could see was the deep green of your ceiling and the contours of Edward’s back as every muscle flexed with his lust addled movements. All you could hear was each of your heavy pants, interlaced with broken cries and the unconstrained slapping of skin each time your hips met together. All of these were wonderful sensations, enough to send jolts of pleasure to your core, but they were nothing compared to what you felt. His warm lips attached to your neck as they sucked hard on the soft flesh. His hand gripping your hip nails digging into the skin, holding you exactly where he wanted you to be. His skin was like velvet caressing you and yet like fire consuming you all at the same time. His hips rolling against you so strongly, the couch beneath you shook along with you.  Every roll of his hips brought you to the edge of ecstasy. Each thrust allowed him to reach deep within you; you felt so full, so alive.

After a few more minutes, Ed releases you neck, pleased with the couple of darkening marks along your collarbone. He lets go of the side of the couch to wrap the hand behind you neck, pulling you into him. He kisses you, it’s sloppy and frantic and wonderful. He wiggled his other hand away from your hip to slide between you just enough to graze your clit again as he lost what little control he had left, and slammed into you recklessly. You moan into his mouth, your whole body seizing up as it all becomes too much. It took him only moments before you were crying out against his lips, another orgasm burning through you with more power than the last. The way your hips stutter and your walls radiate around him was enough to push him over the edge with you. One last deep thrust before he lost himself within you.

He nuzzles your neck again, this time only placing the most gentle kisses as he tried to calm his own racing heart. You both lay their lifeless for a few moments. When you feel a bit more stable, you squeeze him into a hug and place a dramatic kiss on his cheek, complete with the smacking ‘mwah’ noise. He lifts his head to peer down at you, childish grin stamped across his face. He leans down placing a long peaceful kiss to your lips, still smiling as he did. Abruptly your stomach made a loud grumbling noise. Edward pulled away slightly to laugh lightly, his breath hitting your lips, “Time for breakfast?”

“Yes Please!”

Twenty minutes later you found yourself cleaned up and comfortably wrapped in your favorite robe. You sat at the kitchen table sipping orange juice as Ed placed the quiches and cinnamon rolls in the oven to warm up again. He joined you a minute later and placed a small rectangular box in front of you. “What’s this?’ You asked delighted.

“Happy Birthday.”

You open the little box to find a gold locket on a long chain. The front of the locket had a question mark made of tiny diamonds surrounded by little swirls and flowers etched into the gold itself. It looked old, antique, but very well taken care of. Your gently rotate it in your hands, admiring everything about it. You pop it open to see images of a man and women who you didn’t recognize. They both looked roughly your age, dressed in 20s area wear and were both half smiling, like they were sharing a secret only the other knew. In the portrait of the women you could barely make out a similar shaped pendant dangling from her neck. It must have been her locket once upon a time. You blushed as you smiled at the images, before looking back to Ed, who was eyeing you anxiously.

“I love it!” You exclaimed excitedly

“Promise? It’s not too flashy? Or not flashy enough? Or too -” You put up a hand and shook your head a bit, keeping him from rambling more.

“I love it. Absolutely promise! It’s gorgeous!” You gave him your best reassuring smile, which was simple to do since you really did love it. Tilting your head a bit you looked back to the couple inside. “I wonder what secret they were keeping.” You mused.

Leaning over Ed gazed at the couple a moment, making a little humming noise as he thought. “I wondered that too. When I first saw this at the flea market, I asked the attendant, but she only could tell me they got it from an estate sale. From a very wealthy family that lived in the house since the 1800s. It’s real gold and diamonds. The engraving on the back points to a local jeweler and dates it to the right before the great depression.” So you were correct about their outfits, “You can always change out the photos if you want.” Ed offered shyly.

“Not until after we solve the mystery! They had to be star crossed lovers.” You said factually after thinking about it. You nodded content with your answer. “I can’t imagine oodles of lockets like this were made in Gotham in the 20s, so I bet there has to be some information somewhere. We can solve this mystery of their epic love, and then once we do, we can add our pictures. Give someone else an epic love mystery to solve in the future.”

When you looked back up at Ed this time he was staring at you blankly, like he couldn’t believe what you just said. You leaned in to kiss him quickly, then added, “You can’t tell me that my Edward Nygma isn’t up for a mystery to solve, can you?”

“Of course I’d love to solve this with you!” He chimed, suddenly over excited as he took the necklace gently from you to help you put it on. Once you were wearing it, he signed happily. “It looks lovely on you. Now, how about the rest of breakfast?!”

Breakfast was as delicious as you expected it to be. You chatted about this and that. You asked him about the crashing noise that awoke you and he blushed hard, sounding flustered as he admitted he had dropped and broke one of your coffee mugs. The rest of the day was pretty lazy, which is exactly how you wanted it to be. After breakfast you cuddled up on the couch together to solve the crossword puzzle in the paper. Ed did most of the work, but you were happy to watch him and you did solve a few clues yourself. You transitioned to reading a novel as he cleaned your kitchen for you, which he insisted you weren’t allowed to help with. Later he took you out to your favorite little café for a light dinner and the best chocolate cake in all of Gotham.

Snuggling back into your bed at the end of the night you couldn’t help but smile warmly as you pulled Ed in close to you. “Best birthday ever! Thank you, love you.” He started to reciprocate the sentiment but you kissed him, cutting off the words in his throat. Luckily, he was more than happy to show his love for you instead.

Practice painting. It’s a bit messy, but I had no time to polish it (hehe, POLISH).

I wanted to try drawing different textures. Could’ve been better, but I still like the design. The chainmail looks a little bit too fabulous but whatever lol.

EDIT: I think I like the cropped version. Looks better, amirite?


The Wager

(Follows The Pickup and The Hookup. Dean x Reader, smut galore… and is that a tiny bit of fluff?? Words: 2271)

You wake up from a heavy, dreamless sleep to hear the door open and close.

You’re tangled up naked in the sheets, your muscles relaxed, sore and tingly in all the right places. Every part of your bare skin that touches the satiny sheets makes you feel like some kind of goddess.

You turn to where his clothes were left on the floor and see that the jeans and t-shirt are gone. The flannel shirt is still there. You scoop it up and put it on. It’s soft and care-worn, and there’s a hole in the left sleeve the size of your thumb. You go back to the bed feeling sensual, absolutely open wide to him. 

Dean comes back quietly on his bare feet until he sees you’re awake, eyebrows going up at the sight of his flannel shirt around you, kind of stunned. He’s got his arms full of stuff from what looks like a vending machine. “That’s what I get for leaving my shirt unguarded.”

You open the shirt as if examining it, playfully flashing your breasts in the process. “I think it looks better on me, no offense.”

He makes a little choking sound in his throat. “Oh, none taken.”

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amaryllisrose  asked:

Write something fuzzy, comforting. I lost so many cute shoes today.

De-aged Stiles. Just go with it.


Derek never took the time to think about it, but if he had, this is exactly what he would have imagined. 6 or 8 or 11 year old Stiles (what the hell, Derek will just refer to him as ‘Baby Stiles’, which will be great ammunition once normal asshole Stiles is back), is throwing a temper tantrum the likes of which Derek has never experienced. Derek doesn’t even think he’s seen one this epic on TV.

Stiles is wailing. Stiles is crying. Stiles is beating his little de-aged baby fists all over Derek’s couch. Which, Derek is going to have to fumigate, at the very least, after this, because Baby Stiles has just proven the existence of cooties. FYI, cooties? They’re as exactly as disgusting as every kid everywhere believed they were. 

There’s snot there’s tears there’s drool. 

And the noise, oh god the noise. It’s like the air raid sirens of heaven itself. Or hell. Or both. Derek has a migraine. He’s not even supposed to be able to get migraines. 

“I want my,” Stiles gulps in a huge mass of air, gearing up for the kill, “Duh-da-aaaa-aaaaaa-aaaaadyyyyy!” he shrieks, putting the resident banshee to shame. 

“For the love of-” Peter hisses from where he’s pressed himself as far back into a corner as is possible to be, “just call the damn Sheriff.”

“No!” Scott leaps forward from where he was deep in conversation with Allison and Kira. “Stiles’ dad can never know how badly I screwed this up.”

Derek has to put some real effort into keeping a truly ridiculous smile off of his face. Because, yes. For once, somebody (not him) has screwed something up. This is not Derek’s fault. Is this how everybody else feels all the time around him? It’s a great feeling, no wonder they all keep showing up at his loft all the time.

“Scott, come look at this,” Lydia calls from the stairwell (where she’s sequestered herself in order to either think or banshee clearly (Derek’s not sure if there’s even a difference between the two now), away from Stiles).

Scott sweeps a 'don’t any of you dare call the Sheriff’ sort of look around the room, then steps out of the loft. The others exchange looks, shifty sorts of looks, then they (all as one) head out of the loft after Scott, even Peter. Derek is sort of shocked that Peter even decided to stick it out at all, not to mention as long as he did. 

Then it’s just Derek and Baby Stiles, who has somehow (disappointingly) not managed to shriek himself into a mini coma yet. Derek shifts a little closer, almost against his will. Baby Stiles (and Derek will de-age himself, again, willingly, rather than admit this) is kinda cute.

He has big baby eyes, and flaily baby fists, and his little body is kinda chubby and all snuggly looking (ignoring of course the temper tantrum fists and legs of doom). Stiles’ sobs are now becoming so pathetic that Derek’s starting to feel a little guilty. It’s a baby they’re all leaving alone over there, even if it is a Stiles-shaped one.  

Derek sidles up to the couch. He looks to the left. He looks to the right. All clear. Quickly, he sits himself down on the couch and pulls Baby Stiles into his lap.

“There, there,” Derek finds himself shushing soothingly. “Derek’s here, Derek’s got you.” He curls his arms around Stiles as best he can, and rubs his back soothingly.

Now, Derek does not expect this to actually work, but he’s got enough guilt to be getting on with. Leaving a baby (yes even a baby Stiles), to wallow in it’s own misery is not something extra he needs tacked on. 

But the thing is…it does work. “Daddy,” hiccups Baby Stiles, and grabs two fistfuls of Derek’s Henley and buries his giant baby head in Derek’s stomach. Which, okay, Stiles has just played 'identify the adult male’ and lost, but oh the quiet. 

And It should not be heart-meltingly adorable, having Baby Stiles snuggle/cuddle him, but there it is. And what do you know, Derek does still have a heart. Fuck you, Isaac.

Derek can hear the others sneaking back up the stairs-shit, they’re going to find him, they'll see. But Derek doesn’t have it in him to dump Baby Stiles by the wayside in an effort to preserve his dignity, especially now that the noise unleashed from the underworld has ceased. 

Derek gathers the remains of the aforementioned dignity around himself haughtily as one by one they poke their heads in to see what shut Stiles up.

Cuddling. That’s what shut Stiles up. Suck on it.

After a few moments, Derek hears Scott whisper (so lowly that even his enhanced hearing can barely pick it up), “We’re gonna go fix this, hang tight, don’t call the Sheriff.

And they all, to a person, even Kira, abandon him.

Stiles never does achieve a nap, (Derek had had such high hopes) but his wriggling around is at a minimum, and he’s much calmer than Derek would ever have believed possible, so there’s that at least. And as long is Derek is running his hands over soft Baby Stiles hair and saying random-ass shit like, “You’re Derek’s favorite Stiles,” and “Stiles’ daddy is gonna be so proud of him,” Stiles is completely content to not scream or cry or expel snot. Even if he even does continue to incorrectly identify Derek as 'daddy.’

Evening darkens the window, and Derek has entered a sort of zen-like state (a bizarre one, with Baby Stiles cuddles), when abruptly, his lap is full of normal, regular sized non-baby Stiles. Derek freezes, and against his better judgement, looks down. 

Stiles smirks up at him. “Daddy,” Stiles says, in a fake little boy voice like the little shit he is. There’s a moment of complete silence, then with a yell, Derek flings Stiles off of him and tumbles to the floor because, Jesus CHRIST, he may have just popped a boner.

“Did you just…” Stiles trails off, then says, experimentally, “Daddy.”

Holy mother of werewolves. That is a boner. 

Derek swallows nervously, because right now Stiles is eyeing his crotch with a sort of hunger in his eyes that he usually reserves for a plate of curly fries.

And then, strangely, Derek is looking up at Stiles from a lot further away, and how did Stiles get so big? Is everything that big? And suddenly, Derek is filled with an anguish so deep, so piercing, so integral for survival, he can only open his mouth and wail it out to the heavens. “I want my,” he intakes as big a breath as he can, “Mah-haaa-aaaaa-maaaaa-aaaaa!” He shrieks, rolling over clumsily onto his side, beating tiny, baby-shaped fists along the floor.

“Uh-oh,” He hears that Stiles-person say, “somebody screwed up somewhere.”

(TCEF fics)

Do Kyungsoo couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened. He had obsessed over every detail, thinking about all the things he could have done differently to yield a more positive result. Against his better judgment, he had even revisited Baekhyun’s blog in a moment of frustration, only to see that Baekhyun had removed almost all the content from it and seemed miffed at Chanyeol.

Of course, Baekhyun was terrible in every way imaginable, so it made perfect sense that he would blame Chanyeol exclusively for everything that had happened. Kyungsoo should have felt victorious that his least favorite blog had finally been cleansed, but he didn’t. He felt terrible.

Chanyeol, of course, deserved no blame. Chanyeol was perfect.

That was the last time Kyungsoo had heard from either Baekhyun or Chanyeol, so naturally Byun Baekhyun is the last person Kyungsoo wants to see sauntering into Viva Polo during the lunch rush.

Once Ms. Park is finished fussing over him like a second son, Baekhyun waves to Kyungsoo like he’s an old friend.

“Why are you here? Why are you acting happy to see me? Are you going to murder me?” Kyungsoo asks, eyes more or less the size of saucers (see chart in chapter 6).

“Well, I really don’t like you, but we ate breakfast together so that means we’re friends now,” Baekhyun explains. Kyungsoo can’t argue with that logic. Unlike with random strangers on the Internet, you have to actually be at least civil with people you’ve shared a meal with.

“I read your gay message exchanges with Chanyeol and I can tell you really liked him so please go gay apologize yourself. I can’t do it for you,” Baekhyun says. “He’s still playing gay indie music really loudly and I need it to stop.”

“Stop being a social justice warrior and just go talk to him,” Baekhyun groans. Kyungsoo is prepared to protest that label, but before he is able to, a song blare over the restaurant speakers, cutting into their very important conversation.

Baekhyun opens his mouth, but Kyungsoo silences him. He recognizes this song. It’s “Work Song” by Hozier. He definitely doesn’t know that because he downloaded Hozier’s album after Chanyeol mentioned liking Hozier.

That was a lie. Kyungsoo knows this song for exactly that reason.

“Great. Just great. Why is Chanyeol’s loser music playing here too?” Baekhyun babbles. He continues talking, but Kyungsoo stops listening once he notices Chanyeol stepping timidly through the entrance to Viva Polo.

Kyungsoo’s not sure what that gesture means, but it seems directed at him, so he ditches Baekhyun (who is still talking) to head over to Chanyeol.

(More under the cut!)

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