look at their perfect scheming faces

Written Apology

I’ve come out of fic writing retirement to write a fic for @bazinjeanstm! Happy Birthday​! I hope this year is as amazing as you are! And I hope you enjoy this. 

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: Cursing, uh… mild angst? idk

Summary: (AU wear anything your soulmate writes on themselves appears on your skin.) Baz’s soulmate keeps distracting him by drawing on his hand. 


Baz

It’s happening again. Lines are forming all over the back of my hand, starting at my fingers and working their way down. The blue lines bend and curl into abstract patterns. Then suddenly, they stop, only to have other smaller details added to them moments later.

It’s very distracting.

I sigh. Thank Merlin, Snow and Bunce are studying in the library today. I don’t want him to see me like this: distracted and daydreaming about the handsome artist who is going sweep me off my feet one day. Eventually. Hopefully.

Keep reading

Honest Eyes

Is this how you post FanFic on here?  IDK.  But here it is, I want to thank the incredible @bribe-the-door for reading this, demanding I post it and demanding another 400 chapters by today.  Sorry Han, you’ll just have to settle for this being public (Although I’m working on part two if people want it!)


Fucking rain

He dodged his way through the busy London street, the rain splashing up from his Chelsea boots onto his jeans.  Could it get any worse?

“Hey, is that Harry Styles?”

Of fucking course

If it was just a couple fans, he wouldn’t mind, he’d be delighted in fact, but he was fairly certain some paps had been following him for a couple blocks.  The tone of the voice behind him confirmed that suspicion.  

He decided to find a quiet place to lay low before a full-scale mob came down on him.  He jogged a little bit and outdistanced the camera-toters slightly.  He then pulled up his coat collar and briskly wormed his way through a walking club of elderly people.  With the knot of blue-haired plastic bonneted women between him and the photographers, he started looking for a building that seemed quiet and nondescript.

He looked up through the drizzle and saw his salvation.  At the end of the block was a plain grey building with a tattered yellow awning and peeling black letter that read: “Marginalia: Used and Rare Books.”  

Perfect.

 He increased his pace slightly, adding a few more clueless pedestrians between him and the paparazzi.  He opened the door and was his with slightly chilled air, and the kind musty scent that only comes from a large amount of yellow pages living close together.  The bell above the door was so soft he barely registered it, but the cashier clearly did, “Can I help you?”  Harry pivoted around and saw a slightly annoyed boy behind the front desk reading what looked like a Physics textbook.  Harry could tell he better come up with a good excuse for interrupting the boy’s study time.

“Um, do you have any first editions mate?”

 “Sure, all the way in the back.” 

Harry faced inward to the rest of the store for the first time.  It seemed cozy and massive.  The bookshelves were so close together two people would have to squeeze between them sideways.  But the store itself just kept going back, it seemed like there were hallways, rooms branching in different directions and, is that a ladder into a basement?

He turned back to the boy, “How far back does it go?”

The boy smirked, “The whole block, mate.” 

Harry started the trudge back, in two seconds the boy was completely obscured from his sight.  Five more seconds and Harry was convinced that he was lost, and would never find his way out.  He passed different sections, announced only by a handwritten index card on the shelf or door frame; “History 1600s-1873, romantic art criticism, Popular Mechanics, religion and sexuality have been moved to the basement.” 

He was still walking in a straight line, right?

Finally, he saw a back wall or, or more accurately a bookshelf with a thumbtacked index card reading “Latin” in the middle of it.  He glanced around where he saw a room slightly to the left with an index card reading “First editions and seating.”  The first thing he did when he walked through the door was note the bookshelf across from him that apparently had first editions of poetry.  He strode over and was happy to see a few copies of Bukowski.  After selecting a book and spending a few moments inhaling the spine.  He went over to the comfiest looking arm-chair, even though it was a hideous orange and purple pattern, and sunk in.  He hadn’t noticed the 50 cent composition notebooks, paperbacks, sticky notes, highlighters, and pencils strewn around the chair.  If he had, he most certainly wouldn’t have sat in it.  He just felt so cozily invisible that his typical awareness had receded to the part of his mind that kept information like different types of clouds, and if it was his mum’s birthday or not. 

“I can’t believe it.”

He started and noticed the girl standing in the doorway, specifically he noticed her eyes.  That’s typical, supposedly, but her eyes…  They were clear, absolutely no walls.  Open and sharp and lovely and deep.  He imagined that seeing eyes that honest in a moment of joy or bliss was probably one of the best things that could happen to anyone.  Unfortunately, right now those eyes were betraying an inner fury and frustration the girl was clearly trying to control.  

“I mean, that’s my chair.  Always my chair.  I’ve been here for hours!  Seriously, those are my highlighters!  I leave to steal some of Gareth’s coffee, but apparently, this place is sooooo popular now that I can’t leave for five minutes or a Bukowski fan-boy invades my space!” 

She was trying

“I’m sorry, but I love the way Bukowski uses language.”  

She blew some of her hair out of her face while she was furiously shoving her things into her bag.  “If you mean that he perfected his craft and mastered how casual or crude language can be just as impactful as a complicated rhyme scheme, yeah I’ll give you that.”  She popped back up onto her feet, backpack slung across her back.  “But, if you mean that you like the fact that he tosses around words like cock and cunt like popcorn and that the majority of women he writes about are characterized as selfish whores looking for a hate-fuck, then I hope…” she was clearly thinking incredibly hard about this, “I hope that a squirrel the size of goose shits in your coffee.  She rocked back on her heels, pleased with herself, and spun out of the room.  Her voice floating back one last time.  “Besides, Bernadette Myers was using words like cock and cunt in poetry about complex yet loving relationships before Bukowski knew what enjambment was.” 

Harry was stunned.  It wasn’t often that someone completely left him speechless, normally he just chose not to speak.  But, Goddamnit, he wanted to yell after her that he didn’t know what enjambment was.  He wanted to say that yes, Bukowski was a misogynistic prick, but his poetry was so goddamn honest, at least in his opinion.  He wondered what her response to that would be.  He had somehow made it to the front desk without getting miserably lost.  The disgruntled cashier, “Gareth, probably,” Harry thought as the boy lowered his textbook down next to a steaming thermos of coffee.  “Can I help you?”  The boy drummed his fingers on the hard textbook cover. 

“D’ya know if you have any poetry by Bernadette Myers?”           

Hiding in Plain Sight.

I’ve struggled to write anything in the past month, and my imagination has absolutely refused to cooperate. Why my muse finally decided on this, I have no earthly idea. But hey. ‘Tis the season, right?

Happy Halloween, y’all.

Yugi was still laughing fit to burst as he and Seto stumbled into the front parlor. Mokuba, who’d been home for an hour now, frowned with a thunderous gravity that would have fit much more precisely onto his brother’s face; although this wasn’t to say that it didn’t suit the younger Kaiba nearly as well.

“All right. What’d I miss?”

Yugi tried to speak, but collapsed onto the floor and sent his candy sprawling. Seto, for his part, closed his eyes and sighed through his teeth. “Now you’re just being spiteful,” he muttered.

The only reply, from the one man in all of Domino City to have successfully seduced its iciest scion of affluence, was a peal of almost rapturous giggling.

“C’mon, you guys,” Mokuba said, doffing the top hat he’d been wearing for the past week, and tapping his foot for good measure. “It took me three weeks to draft the pitch that got Niisama to go trick-or-treating. I deserve an end-of-project report. What happened?”

Yugi eventually calmed himself enough to speak, though he remained seated on the floor. “Well … o-okay. So … y’know how Joey said Seto should go dressed up as his greatest fear? And A-Atem … thought he’d be clever and say: ‘the past’?”

Mokuba’s face hardened. His eyes turned flinty. “Yeah,” he said flatly. “I remember.”

Seto, bedecked head to toe in the ensemble he’d immortalized during the Battle City tournament, smirked in spite of himself. “I even rebuilt my old deck,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “Come into my city and try to out-snark me? Who do you think you are?”

Mokuba’s expression turned into a half-doting smile. “You’re the best at snarking, Niisama. You’re the Snark King.”

“Damn right, I am.”

Mokuba snickered, then turned his attention back to Yugi. “So?”

Yugi held his scepter, a perfect replica of the Dark Magician’s, aloft. He looked at Seto, then succumbed to laughter again.

Seto rolled his eyes. “Forty houses. Forty.”

“Nice haul,” Mokuba allowed. “For a beginner.”

Two people recognized me.”

“Well, it’s been a long time. You haven’t worn that outfit in four years, Niisama.”

Thirty-four critiqued my accuracy.” Mokuba’s face went blank. “The coat’s good, but the belts are the wrong width. The shoes aren’t pointy enough. The collar’s the wrong shape. Good try, though. A valiant effort.” Seto hefted one arm. “My Duel Disk isn’t the right color scheme?! I invented this fucking thing!! I BUILT THIS ONE MYSELF!!!”

Tears sprang from Yugi’s eyes as he curled into the fetal position and struggled to breathe.

Mokuba covered his mouth in a vain attempt to hide the grin spreading on his face.

“And by the way, who hands out Werther’s Original on Hallo-fucking­-ween?”

“I thought you liked those, Niisama.”

It’s a matter of principle, Mokuba.”

Seto let out a howl of frustration, tossed his bounty of sweets atop the pillow case Mokuba had filled earlier in the evening, and went stomping up the stairs.

Yugi struggled to his feet, still wheezing with laughter. “O-One lady … told him his hair was too short,” he said.

I’VE HAD THIS HAIRCUT SINCE I TURNED SIX, LINDA.”

“I’m p-pretty sure her name wasn’t Linda.”

OH, SHE WAS LINDA. THEY’RE ALL LINDA.”

Yugi collapsed in another fit, leaving Mokuba to gather up the candy and begin the arduous process of categorization.

“… I’m so going with you guys next year.”

Big Bang Reaction to: Their Wedding Day

T.O.P: For the most part, he’s easy going about the wedding planning but ONE THING he cannot let you control is the chairs at the venue. They need to be good ones, the kind worthy of his wedding. This may cause some issues during the planning stage since none are up to his scrutiny but on the actual day, he’ll be in a haze. It’s like he’s not really there, just floating around. Maybe he won’t say much but his eyes and how he tears up as you start walking down the aisle, say it all.

“There they are,” he whispers to Jiyong. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life with them.”

And Jiyong smiles but he’s more focused on your outfit, really impressed with your choice. You got good taste, he decides! You deserve to marry his friend for sure.

Originally posted by aniija

Taeyang: Jokes that he wants to stand shirtless at the alter. He’s only teasing though and he takes the day very seriously. Once he’s committed, he gives that person his all. So the gravity of this day isn’t lost on him. He may surprise you at the reception with a song written just for you, that he chokes up while performing. Then you tear up and the guests do too ;;w;; It’s a very teary day but in a good way!

Originally posted by daesungstrash

G-Dragon: Gets married in nothing but style. He’ll have a big say in the colour schemes, the suites/dresses, etc. He basically plans it all himself. Spends all his time worrying about the perfection of the day, to the point where he needs to be dragged to the alter since he keeps checking the layout and that everyone’s doing their jobs. It isn’t until he’s stood there, in his lavish suite, that he realises what’s happening.

A sweet smile crosses his face, that he tries to hide. He wants to look professional but that smile just keeps coming back.

“Guys,” he whispers to his best men. “I’m getting married today.”

“We know, idiot, why else is everyone here?”

Originally posted by lavender-kills

Daesung: Was walking around on cloud nine the months leading up to the big day. And was 10x worse on the actual day. The boys wondered if his smile could grow big enough to break his jaw but luckily it didn’t. His jaw was still intact, as you walked down the aisle. Noticing your nerves, he’ll wink or call out something like “Hurry up! I can’t wait any longer ~” to make you laugh and relax.

Originally posted by daengerous-af

Seungri: Spends most of the time leading up to the wedding, annoyed at his hyungs. Their usual teasing has increased and they keep asking about his wedding night and what freaky shit he has planned. No one believes his claims of a “virtuous night between newly weds.” The media attention is crazy and this, on top of his hyungs, kept him distracted. Until he’s standing up on that alter and you’re walking towards him. And his emotions hit him all at once. He gulps, will probably end up crying at some point during the service too.

“There s/he is,” Taeyang notes, as you walk towards him. “Don’t they look so stunning?”

Seungri nods, eyes watering. “Stunning. Absolutely, unbelievably stunning.”

Originally posted by cheonjaes

You're the One That I Want- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: On accident, you and Tom go to Harrison’s Halloween party dressed as the iconic couple Sandy and Danny from ‘Grease’.

Word Count: 1900

A/N: This was so much fun to write. Harrison is a bit crazy in this one, so oops. He is the ultimate match maker. I hope you all enjoy. And happy Halloween!

~~~

“Hey, are you coming to my party tonight?” Harrison asked you as you sat beside him in the car on your way home.

“Yes, I mean you said "Y/N, you’re coming to my party or I’ll never speak to you again”, which means I wouldn’t have you to buy me food, so I have to go.“ You explained, making him laugh. Harrison was throwing his annual Halloween party tonight, which required new decorations from last year and lots of sweet treats. He begged you to go shopping with him for it because Tom was busy. He gave you free food so you couldn’t pass up the offer.

"Don’t act like you don’t want to go.” He smirked at you devilishly.

“No, I don’t want to go. I could be at home watching Stranger Things instead of being a wallflower at your party.”

“Of course you want to go, Tom will be there.” His eyes light up as a blush spread over your cheeks. And here you thought his evil smirk couldn’t get any bigger.

You had known Harrison for years. Two years ago, he introduced you to his best friend, Tom. You had taken a quick liking to Tom, developing a slight-you insisted it was slight, very slight- crush on him. You didn’t spend as much time with him as you did with Harrison, who had become a brother to you. On multiple occasions, such as this one, Harrison has tried to play match maker; he even flat out asked Tom to take you to the Captain America: Civil War premiere. It didn’t work because you were busy; unlike Harrison, you had a job and were not able to follow Tom around the world.

“I’m over him, Harrison.” You lied as he stopped the car in front of your apartment complex. It was the same fable you said everytime he brought up the cute boy with dashing brown eyes.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He teased. You rolled your eyes and opened the door, stepping out onto the sidewalk, “Hey, Y/N.” Harrison called, making you halt from shutting the door on him.

“What?” You asked.

“What’s your costume?” He questioned.

“Sandy from 'Grease’, why?” You replied.

“Just wondering. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yep.” You sighed. Why couldn’t he just leave you be at home with Netflix cuddled up in a warm, fluffy blanket?

“7 o'clock. See you there, love.” He smiled at you as you rolled your eyes and closed the door. Harrison was always your extremely cheeky friend. You heard his car speed off as you entered your own apartment, meaning you were finally free to begin getting ready for tonight.

~~~

“Tom, what’s your costume for tonight?” Harrison asked his friend. He called Tom the moment he got home with a scheme already forming in his head.

“Well, I was thinking of just wearing the Spiderman suit. I don’t have any other costumes really.” Tom replied in slight confusion, “Why?”

“Don’t be Spiderman. Be someone else, everyone in the world has already seen you as Spiderman. Be original-be someone like Danny from 'Grease’.” Harrison stated, trying to sound as if he didn’t desperately want his friend to be Danny.

“Are you okay? I thought you hated that movie.”

“I do, but you don’t. You should be Danny.”

“Do you just want to wear my Spiderman suit? Is that what this is about?” Tom accused. Harrison shrugged at the thought.

“You caught me.” He replied, hoping that maybe if he wore the suit, Tom would be Danny. It’s not like he was a hard character to dress up as. All you needed was a black shirt and black jeans-a wig if he really went for it.

“I’ll let you wear it, but you can’t stain or rip it. No pulling threads either. It needs to be exactly how I had it originally.” He stated.

“I promise to protect your precious suit from harm if you swear to be Danny.” Harrison said.

“Why are you so hooked on me being Danny?”

“No reason. Okay, well, I’ve got some setting up to do. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, and Harrison?” Tom asked.

“Yes?” He answered.

“Will-Will Y/N be there?” He questioned in a hushed tone, making Harrison laugh.

“Yes, your Juliet will be there, Romeo.” He said.

“Shut up.” Tom grumbled, hanging up the phone.

~~~

Harrison was starting to get grumpy and Tom was starting to get nervous. The party had started thirty minutes ago and Harrison had yet to see you walk through the front door. He was impatient about your arrival; he wanted nothing more than to make you and Tom get together. He was angry at the thought that you may have actually ditched him and stayed at home. Harrison sacrificed his amazing vampire costume to get Tom to match with you (although he did feel privileged in a legitimate, free Spiderman costume), so he had every right to benupset about you being late. Tom was growing nervous because Harrison looked ready to kill something. He was also becoming sad because out of all the girls at the party, none of them were his girl; even though you technically weren’t in a relationship with him.

Harrison was just about to pull out his phone to call you when the door opened. A proud smile formed on his face as he glanced over at Tom. Tom was oblivious to the fact that you had just walked in as his costume’s counterpart since he was in the middle of a conversation with some of his other friends. You saw Harrison and made your way over to him, stumbling slightly in your red high heels.

“You’re late.” Harrison stated.

“I had to finish my show and do you know how long it takes to get cherry red lipstick perfect?” You questioned, pointing to your lips.

“Better late than never, I guess.” He shrugged.

“Is that Tom’s suit?” You asked, looking at the intricate designs on the Spiderman suit he was wearing.

“Yep, he was going to wear this one, but I persuaded him to wear something a little more 50s.” He said. Harrison put a hand on Tom’s shoulder and turned him around to face you. It took a moment for you and Tom to register your costumes.

“Harrison!” You both exclaimed. You and Tom were in disbelief that your friend would plot such a scheme. You both knew he was crazy, but not this crazy.

“Don’t you two look lovely.” He smiled in amusement. His face dropped when he saw your glare and Tom’s horrified look, “I should go. You two should dance.” He dove off into the crowd and disappeared.

“He’s lucky I can barely walk in these heels or else I’d kill him.” You muttered. You balanced on your left leg as you lifted up your right to remove the red heel.

“Here, let me help.” Tom held out a hand to stabilize you from falling.

“Thanks,” you said after you successfully got both heels off, “I’m going to put these in Haz’s room.” You left without waiting for a response from Tom.

“What’re you doing? Ask her to dance, fool!” Harrison stated, coming back over to Tom.

“Why did you set this up? Did you actually want to wear the suit?”

“No, but I like it. Can I keep it?” He asked, but continued after seeing his friend’s pointed look, “I set this up because the two of you are crazy in love with each other and are too bloody stupid to do anything about it!”

“You’re wrong, Y/N doesn’t like me.” Tom said.

“She does, Tom. She came tonight because you were coming. I thought the costumes would help you get the balls to ask her out. When she comes back, ask her to dance. It’s not rocket science.” Harrison patted his friend on the back, “She’s coming back-I gotta run!”

“Harrison!” Tom called after him, but he was already gone.

“Was that Harrison?” You asked, scanning the crowd for the iconic Spiderman suit.

“No. I just thought I saw him.” Tom stated. The was an awkward moment shared before he spluttered out the words, “You look beautiful tonight.” His face turned almost as red as your shoes.

“Thank you,” You replied, looking down at your outfit. It was nothing much-black leather pants, a black off-the-shoulder top, and a black leather jacket, “You make a great Danny.”

“Really?” He asked, surprised, “I was going to just wear my suit, but Harrison asked to borrow it. I thought it was odd that he suggested Danny, since he hates 'Grease’, but the costume is simple enough.” He shrugged and you shifted your eyes down to your bare feet.

“I’m sorry-I told Harrison what I was wearing. I didn’t expect him to force you to match me. This must be super awkward; we’re not a couple, but we are dressed like it.”

“No, no, I don’t mind.” Tom said, making you look up to meet his eyes, “Quite the opposite actually. The thought of us together is incredible. I like you, Y/N, a lot.”

“Really?” You asked.

“Really.”

“Well, you’re in luck because you’re the one that I want.” You said, making him laugh.

“Can Danny kiss his Sandy?” Tom asked, placing his hands on your cheeks. You nodded slowly and the two of you leaned in. Just before your lips could touch, almost on cue, Harrison interrupted.

“Hey, Tom, I’m sorry, but I spilt red punch on the suit, but the suit’s red so it’s okay, right?” Harrison looked up from the wet patch on his chest to the two of you. He noticed the close proximity and his eyes lit up, “Is my OTP finally happenig? Is the ship finally sailing?” You and Tom both sighed and Tom dropped his hands, turning to his friend.

“Harrison, f*ck off.” Tom said.

“But I don’t want to miss this.”

“Harrison!” You and Tom snapped.

“Fine, but I’m getting an update from both of you.” Harrison huffed.

“And you’re cleaning my suit!” Tom said as his friend walked off. He turned back to you, “Where were we?”

“Shut up and kiss me already.” You stated.

~~~

Two months later, you and Tom had been going strong as a couple. Not much had changed besides that and Harrison growing a tad bit more annoying. By more annoying, you meant that he interrupted 9/10 of your dates with Tom. Although he was ridiculous, when he invited you and Tom over to have a Christmas move marathon, you had to go.

“Stop! Stop!” Harrison exclaimed when you and Tom were about to walk into his room, hand-in-hand. Harrison grabbed a small green object from his dresser and held it in his doorway.

“Is that mistletoe?” Tom asked.

“Yep, now you two have to kiss.” Harrison smiled.

“Harrison, we’re already dating. You don’t need to keep being crazy with your 'match making’.” You said.

“I know, but I’m the captain of this ship. Now kiss.” He ordered. You and Tom simultaneously rolled your eyes at him. When Tom’s fan found out about you two being together through Harrison, they crowned him the “captain” of your ship and now there was quite literally no living with him. Tom pecked you on the lips, making Harrison get giddy in excitement.

“Why is he so weird?” Tom asked you with a laugh.

“I don’t know. I’m only here for the food.” You replied.

‘Come in from the garden. Stop sulking, Levi.’

‘I’m not.’

'I know you are. But Levi, you looked beautiful!’

'Piss off, beautiful. I had a face mask on! And Erwin…548 likes?! You don’t even know 548 people on facebook!’

'You’ve gone viral Levi!’

'I don’t wanna be a virus.’

What looks like a moody sulk in their sunny back garden actually runs much much deeper…Levi is plotting. Plotting revenge.

~~~~~~

It could have been a sad picture. But it’s not turned out as it started. Used a few pose refs from google to get the perfect sulk posture. Continuation of something I can’t link to because tumblr app sucks.

Business Casual. (Steve x Reader)

Pairing: Steve x reader.

Based on: my post here from my other blog.

Summary: Ceo!Steve Rogers’ girlfriend was nothing like his employees thought she’d be. He was black leather, dark suits and stern looks while she was rose gold with diamonds in her eyes. They had never seen him smile. Then she walked into the room.

Steve Rogers had been a CEO since he learned to walk. His father had trained him to be, his father who was once a great CEO himself til greed and a misguided Ponzi scheme landed him 14 years in a white collar prison on the other side of the US. Then an eighteen year old Steve, fresh-faced and ready to comply stepped up to take the reins. He was good at it too, veery i dotted in perfect formatting, double spaced with his name at the top. He vowed to be nothing like his father and business wise? He had fully succeeded.

But the stone-cold expression on his face, black suits tailored to perfection, and stern look? That was all his father. That was the business man side lurking in his veins, though he’d been spotted on occasion with a leather jacket tossed over his shoulder, helmet in hand but that stony expression still gracing his features.

Perhaps that’s why it was so startling for his board room full of employees, big business owners and a couple lawyers ready to soothe tension between Rogers Co. and Stark Industries to see a twenty something year old girl with a floral print skirt and rose gold lace crop top skip into the room. She was clutching her iPhone in perfectly painted nails, her makeup contoured and glitter dusted through her multicolored hair but it wasn’t the ‘i spent 5000$ and hours on this outfit, plus I’m a bitch’ look. No, this was a ‘I enjoy giving myself this look and it’s my natural state of humaning’, and the smile on her face wasn’t forced or at all diminished by seeing the room full of people.

“Hiya baby, you forgot your phone at home. I didn’t even notice til I sent you a meme and it started ringing from your office.” She greeted Steve with a kiss on the cheek, some glitter transferring onto his startled expression. Then it happened.

Stone cold Steve Rogers smiled. Like the grinch smile. Like his face completely lit up, his eyes twinkling as he accepted the phone and a tight hug from the ballet slippered girl.

“Oh and I was going to pick up lunch but your new assistant, Wanda told me that she’d go get it. I told her she didn’t have to but she looked a little pale so I think she wanted to stretch her legs a little bit. I told you, each of your employee needs at least 15 minutes every three or four hours but noooooooooooooo, there’s business to be done. But I’m telling you right now Stevie, if you don’t get your act together then you won’t have any employees at all babe.”

“Not to be rude,” Tony Stark started as Steve opened his mouth to reply, successfully cutting him  off. “But what in the actual fuck. Who is that?”

“This is my girlfriend,” Steve grinned down at her. None of them could speak, all eyes following the young girl as she bid them all a quick goodbye and skipped back out the door. Not without Steve leaving a big kiss on her lips and a heartfelt I love you being whispered into their goodbye hug. He was smiling even after she left, his hands shuffling papers as he cleared his throat and tried to remember where they were.

“She seems nice.” Bucky, his recently found best friend, smiled at him. Steve gave him a half cocked grin, glancing out the boardroom windows where he could see her helping the new intern Peter pick up files from the floor.

“Yeah,” He breathed quietly, “she’s something.”

The Partner Revealed - Part 4

Originally posted by betty-and-jughead

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Pairing: Jughead Jones x Reader

Description: How will things unfold after Jughead stood up Y/N? How will the mystery of Jason’s death be affected by Dilton’s confession? 

Warnings: None I can think of.

Word count: 3128

A/N: Y/F/F stands for Your Favorite Flavor. Thank you all for the comments asking for more, it hope you enjoy this next part :) 


Y/N’s point of view

Y/N wakes up, but stays in bed, not because it’s comfortable – it’s just her limbs that can’t seem to move. She gets up after several minutes of lying down motionless. She looks at her reflection in the mirror glued on the back of her door, eyes puffy and red. “Was I crying?” A little confirmation as she runs her fingers down her wet cheeks.

Keep reading

cutechibilolita  asked:

I wanted to know how did it all start (the st olgas Au) and if you have made a full comic of it? I really like it.

Full comic? Technically no.(A different ask/answer will expand upon this point in due time) 

It can start anywhere after that “Saint Olga’s school for wayward Princesses” episode. Or at least that’s where I’d think it would make the most sense. Since a lot of the groundwork relies on Heinous’ desire for revenge. Any time and any place, take this comedic capture for example.

If you meant the origins of how I came up with the au itself? Inklings of the idea started with the original Olga episode. I really liked the tone(nice mix of serious and funny), the look, the fact that it was actually a legit brainwashy hellhole. It was interesting how oppressive everything was, but also hilarious with how all of it was for the simple purpose of better table manners and stuff like that. 

I’ve always been fascinated by ‘death of personality’ or ‘that person is dead now’ kind of tragic scenarios. St.Olga’s gave good fodder for that, and delivered it in a way that didn’t take itself too seriously.(or at least that’s how I felt about it.)  I did some simple drawings and showed them off to peers and their support encouraged me to keep making stuff for it.  <–(Basically my first ‘official’ pictures with the au.) 

^^^^Though, once upon a time the color scheme was gonna be slightly different before going with what we have today. Looking back on this, it looks weird as heck and I’m glad I went with mostly one color on Sol’s uniform.

Star literally becomes the ‘perfect little princess’ that she’s spent a lifetime resenting, a boring, soulless porcelain doll. Meanwhile, Marco’s desire to be ‘cool’ or ‘badass’ is twisted and thrown cruelly back at his face. Some things have changed and some have stayed the same, and chances are it’ll continue to ‘evolve’ in a way as the canon series progresses. 

As long as everyone has fun :) I hope I didn’t miss the mark with this, sorry if I did. Thank you for the question(s). 

Lucky Strike

Poe Dameron x Reader Modern Setting!AU

Summary: Your excitement to meet the company’s most requested pilot was nearly zero. Little did you know you were going to swallow your words.
Genre: Romance/fluff
Rating: T
Warnings: Swearings
7,279 words

Notes: Here it goes the AU I’ve been talking about! FINALLY. Risking a Poe fic request on the way! Hope you guys enjoy out favorite posterboy being the pilot of an airline company. I ALSO HOPE I MADE HIM JUSTICE. Tell me if I’m torturing y’all with my bad Star Wars writing.Happy reading! <3


You had never met Poe Dameron and yet, he was the most debated topic between the flight attendants at the operational dispatch room. It even surprised you that with two years of working at Millennium airlines, that would be your first time in hosting one of Commander Dameron’s flights, given he was one of the most active and requested pilot for long flights – exactly the ones you preferred working on. 

But you always heard the chitchat between a few coworkers, pretty much gushing about his looks and how flirty but yet polite he was. You’d be honestly lying if it didn’t perk your curiosity for a little bit though you’d never truly admit it. 

And now you were about to meet the said man but your excitement wasn’t even one percent near to the other girls (and a few boys) giddiness. 

“So, I take it you were a part of Commander Dameron’s crew before…” You low key questioned Hanna, one of the few flight attendants that you’d previously worked before as you entered the conference room, clutching your shoulder bag to your side as she nodded in response. “You’re friends or something?”

She snorted quietly and glanced at you as if you’d just said the most absurd thing ever, her eyes rolling playfully as you finally sat around the huge table. 

“I wish! It was just a two hour flight.” Hanna sighed exaggeratedly as you chuckled quietly at her dreamy expression. “Never saw him again after that. Tough luck.”

Keep reading

Say You Will- Percival Graves

Pairing: Percival Graves/OC

Request: Fluffy Christmas fic! <3

Warnings: None…unless you count excessive fluff lolololol


I could feel him smirking at my back as I stood on my tiptoes to place the final ornament on the tree; a cute little snowman with a top hat and cane. I carefully looped the hook around the branch before standing back to admire my handiwork. Each year, my tree looked a little bit as if Christmas had thrown up all over it…candy canes, tinsel, glittery garland, and ornaments of all colors, shapes, and sizes. There was no theme or color scheme. I always thought it looked perfect. Chaotic and unorganized in the best way. A little bit like myself. I was still hyperaware of that smirk directed at my back, though.

Keep reading

I submitted my fursona’s old design ages ago and got great feedback! So here he is for another round !!


Pussompup! its been a while, i hope u are well. always great to see this lil guy

quick comparison pic

overall design: REALLY good silhouette. very (hang on my mom just got home with mc donalds!!!! oky im back) good distribution of shapes, and weight. i see that this fellow is much shorter, and more condensed than last time, but still pretty lanky. i like it 2/2

originality: opossums are normally loved for how gross in a goth sort of way. it it refreshing to see a opossum that is cute, and fluffy, like more in real life. im sure ive said this before, but its still true. (also, i like how you changed his ears! they look much better now!!!!!) 2/2

color scheme: perfect. good use of pink for details, good fade of grey to dark grey. lovely. i also like that that old belly patch is gone, it helps his pretty face stand out more!! 2/2

animal accuracy: perfect again! face is very opossum shaped, like a cone, and not so much like a dog face. very good!!!! i especially love those lil feet. the legs look much more realistic than the last picture we saw of him. 2/2

clothing: well, no real clothes that we can see, but lets take a look at those accessor-

oh….

well, i can’t criticise your fursona’s design for this, but i will take this opportunity to remind everyone that this blog is 100% Anti drug, and alcohol and tobacco free. and i always always ALWAYS encourage users of these life threatening substances to reach out for the help that they need to get clean, healthy, and safe.

But, again, this isnt something i can really deduct numbers from so 2/2

final score: 10/10!!!!! so much improvement since the last time he was here!!! very impressed with how far he’s come, and im so so so so SO happy that you found my advice helpful last time.

Princecup?  Princecup

Do you guys remember princecup?  @saracorinnelikesthis inadvertently reminded me that he exists, and she’s such a treasure trove of happy videos, that this had to happen.  Also, I forgot how fun this au is?  And maybe it’s because I’m in a super rom com place in my life but…I think I need more dumb but inevitable prince/security guard romance.  

Part 1 | Part 2 

(Part 1 is bolded because it’s smutty.  So at your own risk right there.)  


So, Hiccup isn’t stupid enough to whine about being a prince.  That’s a long and pathetic road full of dictators and less-successful assholes, and he’s not complaining anyway, that’s too strong of a word.  He just wishes that someone understood that being Crown Prince of Berk isn’t fun, most of the time.  Grand balls aren’t fun, they’re just an excuse for his father to trot him out in public like a show horse.  Charity events aren’t fun, they’re just a reminder of how much and how little power he has, simultaneously.  Someday, he’ll be able to sign anything he wants into law with a flick of a pen, but now all he can do is sit there in front of walls of cameras, looking glossy in tabloids and being judged on the front page of newspapers.  

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

60 & 72 w/ Toronto Marlies' Trevor Moore

pls assume this is a few year in the future bc he is just a wee baby not ready for babies

60: “You’d be a great dad.”
72: “They’re going to love you, don’t worry!”

you were gonna kill whoever ratted you out. you had the perfect surprise planned for trevor to tell him that you were pregnant and someone nameless had ruined it.
“i can already see you scheming. i need you to focus and answer the question.” trevor pulled your attention back to him and the cookie you were frosting, knowing you well enough to know what your revenge face looked like.
“yeah, i’m pregnant.” you sighed “but could you just pretend your don’t know that and hold on for a second?” you say before running out of the kitchen to the bedroom before coming back with a large box.
“what is this” he queried.
“just open it you surprise ruiner.” you said getting your phone out to record him. he looks at you despairingly before going to open the box only to be surprised when about 10 blue balloons that say “congratulations it’s a boy” float out of it.
“what the hell?” tyler says, jumping back before realising what this means. “we’re having a boy?” he turns to you. you nod and smile.
“you’re gonna be the best dad, he’s gonna love us so much” you say
“ok i’m not made you didn’t tell me anymore, that was a really cute plan,” he said, taking you in his arms to kiss you.
“i’m still going to get my revenge on whoever ratted me out,” you said against his chest as you continued hugging.
“then that is a secret i will take to the grave” trevor said before attempting to collect the balloons from your high ceilings and miserably failing.

short drabble time!
send me one of these numbers and a player?

Ruki Mukami: A Sacrifice

You saw him every day. You knew who he was. He knew that you knew. Yet, you felt ignored by him and his brothers. As if none of them cared about your knowledge. Even more bothering - the fact that you didn’t know anything about them - what was true? Monsters from legends, was it how it really looked like? Were they scared of light, did they sleep in coffins…? You were curious. But there was only way to convince him to talk to you.

You had to sacrifice a part of yourself.


Keep reading

Real (Everlark drabble)...

I had this idea niggling at me all day today and now it’s 1am and I’ve written a little drabble of it. Has barely taken an hour, un-beta’d as always so all mistakes are nine mine. Hope you enjoy (a lil Modern Day AU Everlark wedding drabble).

___________________________

Real…

I know I’m not supposed to do this, I know it’s not tradition. But I want to. He’s always been so good with words and I love hearing them. I want to make sure he hears me too. I can’t go after him, I’ll chicken out. I can’t go after anyone. So I’m going first. Not that anyone knows it yet.

I stand slowly and immediately the room quietens. There isn’t a great number of guests, but there’s enough. I swallow, looking down at my pale, satin dress shimmering in the dim light. I didn’t want it to be too much, I didn’t want any of it to be too much. But it had to be just right. Simple enough but special enough too. When I look up again the silence fully descends and all eyes turn to me. I bite my lip and focus on the trail of dandelions and little fairy lights on the far wall from me, little white and grey ribbons linking everything together in a perfect colour scheme matching my bridesmaids and his tie. And my eyes, he’d said, after we’d finally agreed to go with something “neutral.” I knew his favourite colour was orange and suggested that; he suggested mine and we knew it was a lost battle with my stubbornness and his convincing smile. So grey it was.

I take a breath and feel him look up at me from the chair to my right. I imagine his eyebrows knitting together and his mouth opening to wonder aloud what I was doing, a slight grin on his face as it had been the whole day. I start speaking before I know he will.

“Hi. Em, th-thank you all for coming.” I pause, unsure how everyone is going to react before I give myself a shake. This isn’t for them, I remind myself. Go. “I know that it’s not … custom for me, for the bride, to make a speech, but well, who cares about custom?” 

A smattering of titters passes over the room and I relax a little. They are all friends, it’s okay. Peeta shifts beside me, I still feel his gaze on me.

“Today, I’ll be honest, hasn’t felt real. In the best way. I’m waiting for someone to wake me and tell me that I’ve fallen sleep in my Stats class back at college and have dreamed the whole damn thing.”

Again more laughter.

“And, it’s because I don’t think I’ve felt happier.

“I’m sure Peeta will speak far better than me, and put our thanks and our feelings much more eloquently than I ever will. Which is why, no offense, this speech isn’t really for any of you.” 

I turn to look at Peeta, at my husband. I fall into his eyes, wide and joyous and locked on me. “It’s for you,” I say softly though I know everyone hears by the gentle chorus of “aw” that follows. He looks a little stunned, but happy stunned nevertheless.

“Peeta,” his name leaves my lips like an easy breath and he reaches a hand to take mine. “You know more than everyone else in this room that I am no good with words.” 

He shakes his head slightly but doesn’t cut me off.

“But I hope you know that I promise to tell you I love you a hundred times each and every day we are together. I’ll do it when I call you an idiot for leaving your keys at work, when I run after you with those same keys in the morning before you leave and tell you to drive safe. When I beg you to make your cheesebuns nearly every Sunday; when I make us tea in the morning and dinner in the evening, when I say I’ll do the dishes. When I let you watch the baseball instead of that trashy reality show I won’t admit to liking that will remain nameless;-”

I hear Johanna, my old roommate, cackle loudly over everyone else and I feel the corners of my mouth twitch.

“-when I steal your heat on the sofa, in bed. When I burrow my cold feet into you instead of putting on socks because I’d rather not have to get up, when I ask how your day was and when I warn you to be careful for a thousand different reasons.”

I pause a moment and Peeta squeezes my hand in his. I grip back and give a soft smile.

“And hopefully when you remember this moment, this speech, this day, because it is actually real and I love you. So much.”

I am aware that our guests start to clap and cheer but it doesn’t matter or even make me blush because Peeta is standing and his grin is growing and his eyes are shining. He doesn’t speak, but cups his hands on my face, his fingertips delicate and so soft, as if this is the first time he has held me like this, and eases my lips to his, all soft and warm, smooth and languid. 

“I love you too,” he speaks softly as we break away, as if he needed to tell me. I smile and kiss him again, though quicker this time. The honeymoon doesn’t officially start until we leave this room.

Chatter has picked up among our guests again so we speak lowly to each other, free of the attention of all our friends and family.

“I wish we could freeze this moment and live in it forever,” he says, letting his arms around my waist pull me to him in a loose hug. Mine snake around his torso. 

“Me too,” I sigh, leaning my head on his chest, inhaling him. It is perfect, this is perfect, today is perfect. I never knew I wanted it so much, but I did know I’d always want him. He makes me happy; he’s the biggest reason for my never being happier - aw shoot I forgot to say that in my speech! I groan inwardly, but let it go as easily as the thought came. He knows.

His lips brush my hair and I feel him plant a sweet, firm kiss there too before he speaks softly, his tone light. “I thought you said you weren’t good with words?”