Kevin stood calm and quiet until a referee opened the door
for them. Before he stepped on Kevin
tapped the butt of his racquet against the floor and passed his stick to his
other hand. He strode to half-court head high and left-handed, and the crowd
The fourteenth of February marks the day Stiles’ vocabulary vanished leaving just a single word to be uttered in response to Derek’s proposal:
Y E S!
However, the shocked filter doesn’t last long as a veritable torrent of, “Derek”, “I love you”, and praises in both English and Polish tumble from his lips.
“I can’t believe you did all this. And here I thought the only romantic bone in your body was mine.” Stiles’ salacious eyebrow waggling falters slightly at a firm, yet loving, swat to the ass by his chuckling fiancé.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Derek smirks, nosing his way down his jawline to his favorite spot on his neck just below his ear, eliciting a delicious shiver.
“Oh my god, that was terrible,” Stiles chokes on laugh. “Thank god you didn’t lead with that or I would have reconsidered my answer.”
Stiles let out a yelp as Derek nips at a tender spot.
Stiles tilted his head giving him more room to explore.
“Mmm. Yup. Truth is you had me at ‘This is private property.’ There were many very public things I wanted to do to said property.”
Derek eyes flash as he emits a playful growl as his hands slide down to grasp his ass and quickly hoist him up. Stiles’ legs automatically wrap around his hips as a surprised moan barely has time to escape; lips becoming entangled with his own. Blunt teeth gently nibble Stiles’ bottom lip, tongue soothing over the indentations, silently pleading for entrance; a satisfied rumble answers when it’s granted. Derek pulls back just enough to gaze into honeyed eyes filled with love and eternal mischief, slowly engulfed by blown pupils. His right hand cups his jaw, thumb gently traveling across the path of moles to plump, reddened lips.
“Feel like doing some trespassing tonight?”
Stiles tosses his head back, whole body shaking with laughter. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Derek grins brightly at that thought “Not having any second thoughts, are you?”
Stiles’ arms tighten around Derek’s neck, pulling him into passionate kiss that leaves them both breathless.
“Not on your life. I love you so much, Der.”
“Love you too, Stiles.”
The night was filled with saccharine whispers, breathless moans,
praises to deities that may not exist, content groans, laughter and love. Stiles may have trespassed all those years ago, but they have since established a home in each other.
March week 11 >> Always Choose Happy >> Beginning of week
I started off thinking, oh lets try minimal this week, so started off with just the left hand side day heading. Then added washi… then coloured some flowers … then yeah this happened :) tried something new with some weekly goals to keep me on track, as well as a tracker to see how I go.
P.S. Being new to this studyblr community I never realised how beauiful and creative some planner spreads could be! So I totally went and bought some brush pens, cute sticky notes, plus other stationery that I totally *needed*. So watch this space and I’ll be posting how I go with the goodies.
You enjoy your character suffering...I've noticed artists of many kinds will usually put their pain into their art. Is this why you like to watch ink suffer? (Sorry for anon I'm scared you'll take it the wrong way and get mad)
Perhaps I do yes, because I burned my left thumb that I use to draw, and I’m suffering, so
Ink won’t be allowed to use his left hand for days MUAHAHAHAoh right he’s ambidextrous
Is there anything more enraging than when someone you live with is needlessly rude to you so as the Bigger Person (and internationally recognised fucking delight!) in the relationship who Rises Above It you leave the room to avoid turning it into a fight, only for them to accuse you of sulking?????? You think this is sulking, sunshine? I’ll show you fucking sulking, I’ll sulk so hard you won’t know what hit you! Suck it up!
doodles for @hurryupfic‘s noir au ;0; allen + co dont look very vintage but i think lena, link + tokusa were a bit more successful??? also the day i stop drawing AU thirds with beauty marks is the day i die.
pardon the horrendous formatting omg i didnt want this to be a long post ;; + tokusa is a floating torso because i could not in good conscience subject him to high-waisted pants. not yet.
Welcome to the story! We get our favorite billionaire writing love letters to our lovely soldier. No powers/suits, but Tony is still Tony Stark (think IM1 Pre-arc reactor) and Bucky is a special ops soldier.
It starts a little slow, but its a longish fic so just hang tight!
–The rehab facility I am trapped at has encouraged me to work through my depression and regain my mental balance and health by becoming pen pals with a soldier. I pulled your name from the box, so lucky you. I think this is a terrible idea, and I can’t see how it will help me, but they are insisting and I don’t really want a crazy stamp on my forehead so here goes. –I guess I should emphasize that this isn’t a rehab center for narcotic abusers, even though after months of these heavy duty pain killers they are giving me, I might need a stint in that kind of place as well. –My name is Tony. On Thanksgiving Day I was in an accident that nearly cost me my life. I broke my sternum and several ribs and they had to restart my heart twice on the operating table. Several other broken bones, a breathing tube and liquid only diet for way too long. And now a stint in a rehab/hospice, where all i do is stare at four walls all day and try not to go crazy. –You know as I’m writing this I realize I may in fact be depressed. Who wouldn’t be? –Anyway, whether you write back or not, and I won’t blame you if you don’t because I am just terrible at this, stay safe out there. You and all the other boys making sure jerks like me sleep well at night.
It’s been a week since I’ve been living in Kai’s house. In all honesty, I thought that I would have a lot to complain about by now, but I didn’t. It wasn’t as bad as I initially thought it would be.
I’ve been keeping my word. I don’t ask him unnecessary questions and have given him no reason to be suspicious of me. I prepare breakfast every morning and dinner every night. I clean to keep my mind off things and since his house is really big, it keeps me busy. I’ve started to feel sort of like a live-in maid, but I’d prefer that term than being labelled a hostage.
As much as I feel safe in this house from the other gang that apparently wants my head, it’s not ideal for me to stay here. I don’t want to live like this for very long.