make stuff people i need more red beauty on my dash

Hello beautiful people! I have recently hit 800 followers! I’ve had this blog for about 5 months and I just wanna say thanks for following my shitty ass blog. It amazes me that people would actually wanna follow me cause I’m just a potato. 

So to celebrate, I thought I’d do my very first follow forever.

These are all the people I love seeing on my dash everyday!

I have the pleasure of knowing some of yall, but there are some of you who I’ve never spoken to, and I would REALLY love to get to know you better! So please never hesitate to say hi!

I have most likely forgotten someone, but I’ll make sure to include more the nest time I do this.

THANK YOU SO MUCH!

~Felicia

Tumblr was being a booty and wouldn’t let me differentiate between my fave blogs and my mutuals so……my bad! I love all of your blogs though! Mutuals you know who you are! 


0-9:

@12fools @17mounteens

A-D:

@ace-fy  @angeljongup  @ask-bts-stuff  @aishbts  @ameriithaiikongs @btsmaknaenet  @bloominseoul  @bfkook  @barefootarmy  @become-the-story  @cuteyoonseok  @changkyuh  @cheolshu  @chokemejimin @doitforsebooty  @dailydoseofdia  @darielaloveskpop  @deliriousscenarios @dotbammie

E-H:

@eyesmilinglioncub  @exojungshook  @elauranicolee  @ellieljade  @fivestarview @flawless-7  @ffsnamjoon  @forljh  @fuckyeah-got7imagines @goddessofdestruction  @g-dragonbangbang  @got7fakesubs  @got7europe @getsomesuga  @haveakookie  @halllyutrash  @holyshitbaek  @hobibliophile  @holyfuckmark  

I-L:

@ijustyehethatlotto   @ihearteyesmilesss  @idolimagines  @incorrectikonquotes  @idolized-scenarios  @imsarabum  @jeonggxuk  @jinxkook  @jackson-related  @jhobisunshine  @jintyboo  @jiminsguns  @jjungdork  @jooheonster  @jungkxook  @jayfatuasian  @jins-jk  @jookyunhoe  @junglecork  @jimolk  @jjibooty  @kpoppantydrop  @k-hiphopshit  @kpop-sanctuary143  @kimjongdaely  @kths  @kisipie  @kaypopruinedme  @kvths  @kimtrain  @kainks  @lisablink  @leaderbum  @lemmefangirlpls  @leaolivia  @likexiubaek

M-P:

@mypaperheart-21  @melody-baby486  @miss-noo-na  @minminyoongi  @maifabinsanity  @m-onstax  @monstaxmemes  @namjoonspeaches  @namjoonsdimplesarelife  @nazia-u  @notjhope  @networkbangtan  @noona-la-la-la  @official-rvirene  @onlylovekpop  @petityeols  @princess-halley  @poeticyoungjae  @pervertfromkpopplanet  @pieismycaffeine  

Q-U:

@remember-thatt  @rainwards  @rapmini  @rxdnights  @shesdreamingofchen  @soowritings  @seokhajir242  @squiishybts  @sgfgdolans  @smuttyassholes  @sweaterpawsjimin  @sweatae  @strwberrytae  @totallyrealkpopquotes  @the-true-dragon  @ttylbts  @taetine  @thereisnofuckingreason  @theinvisablessed  @taehyungchu  @theneighbor-ff  @tvehyungs-gf  @the95liner  @tayejoon  @uyyuggie  @universitykpop  @unpopularkpop-opinions

V-Z:

@vixx17andbtsimagines   @witches-of-supernatural-end  @wonho-ful-reactions  @what-u-need-igot7  @whisperedscenarios  @war-of-hormoan  @wonnhao  @wewritekpop  @xiuminsans  @xiumania  @xiuminsm  @yonggukology  @yoongles  @yg-got7scenarios  @yourkpopworks  @yoongilluminati  @yaja-time  @yehetkpoptrash  @zutterxtrash  @zephyoongist

IM AT 500 FOLLOWERS OMG. thank you !!

I CANNOT BELIEVE I’M ALREADY AT 500 FOLLOWERS ?? I mean how the hell do you even keep up with me? I’m such a turtle when it comes to replies… Worst than that, even. When I started this blog, I didn’t think that I would go this far and be lucky enough to talk to all of you? When I first started I never thought that I would love indie that much ?? I was always used to group rp so this new set was quite new to me. Now though, it’s like my favorite thing and I love every single person I met on here ?? Anyway I’ve been wanting to do a milestone since forever but always forgot about it ??? This though, I can’t forget so… Let’s do this !!! Under the cut will be the people I appreciate the most here !

Keep reading

Little Avenger - 5

Pairing: Peter x reader

Summary: Peter and you went on your first mission together. While you both were excited and all buzzed up, Bucky couldn’t help but be the overprotective dad he was to you.

Author’s Note: this one is my personal favourite. It took me so long to write and edit. The word count is more than usual but you won’t be disappointed. It’s got some nice fluff and cute Peter. Hope you like it!

Warnings(s): swearing, drinking and fighting

Word Count: 2568

Part 4, 6

Originally posted by captainamericacivilwhore

The day had arrived and Peter was regretting being at the tower deeply, he thought he would get to enjoy your company. Little did he know he would have to meet Bucky. He didn’t hate him; god, he didn’t. it was just that he was very protective of you and could be very intimidating.

‘so, parker, how was school.’ Bucky crossed his arms and looked at him. they were sat opposite each other on the table. At that moment, Peter knew exactly what criminals felt like during their questioning.

‘it’s Saturday, sir. We don’t have school today.’ He chuckled awkwardly.

‘right.’ He said. ‘let me tell you a few things, okay?’ he looked at him and he nodded.

‘if you try anything funny with (y/n),’ he leaned forwards. ‘I will kill you.’ he said and Peter tried to hide his discomfort. ‘and, if you let anyone else touch her, I will hold you responsible.’ he leaned back and toyed with a knife. ‘well, I might not have to worry about it, because she’s capable of things you can’t imagine, with or without her powers. it’s just my duty as she’s more than a sister to me.’ He kept the knife aside. ‘that’ll be all.’ he smiled and signalled him to leave.

‘I-I’ll keep that in mind.’ he left hurriedly.

‘you were threatening the kid? Seriously, buck?’ Steve asked as he brushed passed Peter.

‘that kid will be all alone with (y/n) in some crazy ass party, I had to! I needed to make sure he doesn’t take any advantage of the situation.’ he defended himself and Steve sighed in response.

Peter was all set for the mission before you and was waiting with Pietro. Their friendship was an odd one but he was the only one who didn’t tease Peter that much.

‘so, you have something planned for tonight?’ Pietro wiggled his brows.

‘what do you mea-, what?! No!’ he said with an embarrassed expression.

‘come on, parker. When will you take the big step. Just say it already!’ he slapped his shoulder lightly.

‘it’s not all that easy, dude. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.’ He scratched his cheek.

‘hey, trust the ladies’ man,’ he pointed at himself. ‘I can tell she likes you, do something tonight, impress her.’

‘she doesn’t go for guys like me, she is one of those girls you read about in books, she’s an adventure herself.’ He smiled at the thought of you. ‘She goes for bad boys, not for awkward, sweet, goofs like me.’ He sighed.

‘give it a try, plus you can always save some bad boy stuff for,’ he looked at him and coughed. ‘other times.’ He winked at him. Peter snickered and punched him lightly. They were chatting casually until you walked in the room.

‘how do I look!’ you twirled to show off your red dress. The dress had lace designing and was the perfect shade for your complexion. your hair were tousled, your dress was perfectly flaunting your body and the light makeup made your features come out beautifully.

‘you look great, chip!’ Pietro grinned knowing how much the nickname annoyed you if anyone other than Natasha called you by it.

‘you look beautiful.’ Peter got up smiled at you making a heat rise to your cheeks.

‘you look rather dashing yourself, parker.’ You grinned. Peter couldn’t take his eyes off you. you weren’t the type of girl to wear makeup and dresses and you never took off your gasses until it was necessary. Seeing you like that was just something different.

‘let’s get going, red.’ Bucky walked in the room as he wore his sweatshirt. ‘parker,’ he gave him a sharp look.

‘Bucky! How do I look?’ you faced him.

‘you look gorgeous.’ He smiled seeing your grinning face. You never got to be your age and you could today. But how ironical was it that it was for another mission. ‘get in the car, Nat’s waiting.’ he said.

‘okay, come on, Pete.’ You took his hand and led him out of the room. Peter looked at Bucky’s angry face.

Natasha was sitting in the front while she fiddled with her bracelet. You smiled at her when you saw her and she returned it.

‘isn’t my chipmunk looking amazing.’ She turned around to face you both.

‘well, it’s all your work.’ You grinned.

 ‘you look good too, Peter.’ She smiled at him and he muttered a thank you.

‘all right, let’s get this over with.’ Bucky got in the driver’s seat and put on the seatbelt.

It took you not more than 30 minutes to reach that place. It wasn’t very posh; it was an old mansion that required some maintenance. Pop music filled the car as you rolled down the windows. You could see many teenagers dancing, laughing and drinking when you looked around.

‘kids these days.’ Bucky said with a disgusted face. ‘okay,’ he turned around and faced you two. ‘no touching, no drinking, no kissing, no getting tattoos, no-‘

‘here’s your card, show it to them and they’ll let you in.’ Natasha handed you a card. ‘and shut up, Barnes.’ She glared at him. ‘you know what he looks like?’ she asked you and you nodded. ‘great.’ She smiled. ‘try have some fun while you’re at it.’ she winked and you both chuckled.

 ‘bye Nat, bye Buckbeak. Love you!’ you grinned and pulled Bucky’s cheek.

‘love you too, now scoot!’ he said grumpily. Natasha couldn’t help but grin at how much you had changed him.

You had to walk for a while before you could reach the entrance. You looked around and moved closer to Peter.

‘it seems fun.’ You said sarcastically to Peter.

‘I thought you loved these places, you know you are the ‘badass girl’’ he nudged you in the ribs.

‘that I am.’ You smirked and stopped by the entrance.

‘invitation?’ a guy with lip piercing said.

‘here.’ Peter handed him the card. He first examined the card and looked at both of you.

‘enjoy.’ He opened the gate and gave you a sly smirk. The place was dimly lit and smelled like a mixture of perfumes and cheap deodorants. It was blaring with new songs and was stuffed with people.

‘did he think we were…’ Peter turned to you.

‘yeah.’ You chuckled. ‘okay, lets split. We’ll be able to find him sooner that way.’ You said and he nodded.

‘be careful.’ You heard Bucky’s voice in your com.

  ‘the hell I will.’ You wandered deeper into the crowd. You walked around talking and laughing. The experience was pleasant.

‘did you find him?’ you heard Peter’s voice in your com. ‘nah, but I heard that he will be by the dancy thingy in about an hour.’ You said. ‘can you come here?’ you said through the com.

‘sure.’ He said. You were drinking some water taping your feet to the music all alone. Some guys had tried to talk to you but you had told them off. You weren’t in the mood to talk to some idiot and listen to his endless chatter about himself.

‘hey gorgeous.’ You heard someone say.

‘I am no- ‘you turned around and found Peter grinning. ‘Peter!’ you sighed in relief. ‘you won’t believe how many idiots I had to bear!’ you stood next to him.

‘well, I am here now. Let’s just sit somewhere.’ He found a place to sit and sat down with you.

‘I hate this place.’ You leaned back.

‘yeah, I can tell that.’ He chuckled. ‘so, did you find yourself a girl?’ you wiggled your brows at him.

‘I have my eyes on this one girl though.’ He smiled. The thought of him being with someone else stung a little. You liked him and you couldn’t let that happen.

‘oh,’ you said. ‘who’s lucky girl?’ you nudged him with your shoulder.

‘um, let’s see, she has beautiful (y/e/c) eyes, great smile..’ as he described the appearance you could feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

‘and she is sitting next to me.’ He looked at you hopefully and smiled.

‘what?!’ you grinned.

  ‘mhm.’ He looked down.

‘you meant all that?’ you looked at him.

‘yup, I did.’ He looked at you.

‘I- ‘you were starting to speak until you noticed the boy you were looking for. ‘Peter! Look he’s here!’ you stood up.

‘let’s get him and leave then.’ He said half-heartedly.

‘yeah, but not like that. We can’t just attack him.’ you said. ‘wait outside, I will get him there and then look after it all.’ You turned to him. ‘okay?’

‘okay.’ He tried to hide the sadness caused by his unanswered question.

‘great.’ You smiled. ‘how will you do it?’ he furrowed his brows.

‘by turning up the heat.’ You simply stated and he gave you a confused look. ‘just wait and watch. And don’t go out just yet wait for my signal.’ You winked at him and disappeared in the crowd. He took a deep breath and followed you.

You looked around and found the guy leaned against a table. He noticed you and passed a smile which you returned. You were thinking for way to get him to talk to you until an idea popped in your mind.

  You made your way towards the DJ and asked him to play your favourite song. You smiled and ran your hands through your hair as the music filled the air. You danced like you didn’t care and let your hair flow. You swayed your hips to the music and danced in a manner that Peter couldn’t take his eyes off you.

‘damn.’ Peter thought with his mouth agape.

You were just moving to the beat and looking for the guy until the song changed. Red dress by MAGIC! Played and you smirked at your victory. You looked at him and he locked eyes at you. he took a sip of his drink without breaking eye contact. He moved towards you and started to dance with you. you took in his appearance as he did so. He was wearing a leather jacket and distressed jeans, his hair were slicked back with hair gel and he smelled like cigarettes, spearmint and a heavy perfume. Peter clenched his fists and jaw at the scene. He couldn’t bear another guy touching you.

‘you wanna get outside? We can go for a ride or something.’ He looked said to you.

‘I would love that.’ You smiled. He took your hand and led you outside. You signalled Peter to follow you and he nodded.

You got outside and he offered you a drink. You had no other option, you knew it wasn’t something you should do but you ended up taking a few sips. You could feel it kicking in already, it was too strong.

‘name’s Chris.’ He introduced himself. ‘I have to say, you were pretty hot in there.’ he moved closer to you and you leaned against the cold wall.

‘thanks.’ You said. ‘I am pretty good at other stuff as well.’ You tilted your head and ran a finger along his jawline. You couldn’t concentrate well; the drink was messing up with your system.

‘mind showing me?’ he said in a low voice.

‘mhm.’ You said innocently. He moved closer but you slipped aside, kicked him in the side, punched him several times and locked him.

‘aren’t I great?’ you asked him. ‘who the fuck are you? get off me, b- ‘he couldn’t speak more as Peter had his mouth closed with his webbing.

‘don’t you know how to talk to a girl?’ Peter got in his face.

‘can you that with his hands too?’ you said to Peter and he nodded. ‘thanks Petey!’ you hiccupped.

‘(y/n) are you,’ he got closer to you. ‘are you drunk?!’ ‘that asshole made me drink this thingy, and it’s gotten me all woozy.’ You stumbled a little. ‘leave it all aside let’s get him to them.’ You picked Chris up. ‘let’s get going, hon. You had a lot of fun ruining all those lives.’ You stumbled again.

‘I guess I’ll take him, you just, follow.’ He said as he griped his arm.

‘okay.’ You smiled and followed him to the car. ‘do you want me to enchant his mind?’ you asked.

‘nah, I guess i’m good.’ he peter held on to the guys arm.

Some agents took Chris from there. Peter after giving them some instructions, helped you walk to your car where Bucky and Natasha were waiting for you. Bucky stopped talking to her when he noticed Peter half carrying you to the car. They both got out of the car and walked towards you.

‘what the hell happened?!’ Bucky asked.

‘Peter got me drunk.’ You whined and hugged Peter closely.

‘you did what?!’ Bucky lunged towards Peter but Natasha grabbed him.

‘no! I didn’t! that guy Chris gave her something! She had him on the ground when I reached there!’ he explained himself.

‘yeah, I beat his ass.’ You giggled.

‘okay, (y/n) come get in the car.’ Bucky tried to separate you from Peter but to no avail.

‘no, I don’t wanna leave him. he’s nice and warm.’ You buried your face in his neck. Peter couldn’t help but smile, he had never had you this close. He quickly his smile when he saw Bucky clench his jaw.

‘no problem, Peter, get her in the car.’ Natasha said calmly. He nodded and helped you in the car.

‘can I have a makeup wipe?’ you cocked your head between the front seat.

‘sure, here you go, chip.’ She handed you a few wipes.

‘thanks.’ You sat back and handed one wipe to Peter.‘Pete, help me.’

‘o-okay.’ He took it wiped your cheeks.

Bucky clutched the steering wheel and Natasha nudged him.

‘let them be, buck.’ Natasha said to him. ‘look how happy she is.’ These words softened his expression.

‘I want to get rid if this dress.’ You huffed.

‘no!’ they said in unison.

‘I am intoxicated not out of my mind. I wouldn’t take it off here.’ You leaned back and crossed your arms over your chest. you started to feel your eyes droop, the drink had been too strong. You yawned and moved closer to Peter.

 ‘do you mind?’ you asked him.

 ‘not at all.’ He raised his arm and you snuggled close to him.

‘thanks.’ You hugged him close and he hesitantly wrapped his arm around you.

You arrived at the base and Peter helped you out of the car. He was about to leave but you stopped him.

‘leave me to my room.’ you pouted. He looked at Bucky for approval and he got a deep breath in response.

‘alright.’ He smiled and helped you in.

You both got in the elevator and you stared at him.

‘what?’ he leaned against the wall.

‘you like me?’ you smiled.

‘yeah.’ He looked down.

‘I like you too, a lot.’ You grinned and moved closer. He stopped you and you gave him a confused look.

‘you don’t mean it, you’re drunk.’ He smiled sadly and sighed.

‘no! I do.’ you pouted.

‘if you do, I’ll come here, tomorrow morning, and if you will still like me, I am all yours.’ He cupped your face.

‘at least let me do something.’ You said.

 ‘what?’ he asked.

 ‘this.’ You kissed the corner of his mouth. ‘we’ll get to it later.’ You winked and the elevator gates opened. ‘goodnight.’ You smiled at him and left. He stood there seeing you leave and he leaned against the wall again. the night was going to be a long one.

TAGS: @andaddalittlesarcasm, @tmrhollandkay, @ginnyweasels@143amberrose, @skeletoresinthebasement

baby, you’re my firework

Genre: Fluff/Romance, Vernon!AU

Word Count: 2368

Characters: Hansol Vernon Chwe/Original Female Character

(a/n): To my always wonderful and lovely @hansolmates, the Yoon Jeonghan to my Joshua Hong Kong, here is your long-awaited belated birthday and Christmas present and I hope you like it! 2016 was an awesome year full of amazing memories and here’s to another of making many more while continuing to be the Seventeen trash that we are.♡

9:30pm

She was sitting on the window sill in her apartment, which was on the third floor of her building complex. Her apartment was situated in Hongdae, the part of Seoul where everyone her age basically went to party every night. She lived across the street from a studio, with a big tree planted right in front of it. Right now it was decorated with twinkling lights for the holidays. White bulbs combined with the snow sitting on the branches made for a picturesque winter night.

She observed the scene outside: people bustling in the city streets below, bright lights illuminating the restaurants and clubs, girls shivering in short sequin skirts, and guys wearing button downs and long coats. It was the one night where everyone dressed their absolute best while trying to stay warm in the brisk, winter weather. The one night where everyone wore as much glitter as they wanted without being judged for looking like a gaudy disco ball.  

It was New Year’s Eve and everyone in Seoul went out with their friends to welcome the new year. Some hoped to drink the regrets and bad memories of the past year away while others wanted to experience one last unforgettable moment.

Keep reading

3

(Finally) Crossing Paths

(What’s up yall! Shay here, with a new imagine! This was so fun! This is one is pretty long, and I got a little bit off track at the end…? If you don’t understand the references just ask me or my best pal google. But ITS SO CUTE I LOVE IT and I hope you do too! As always, these gifs are not mine. If you have any comments/concerns/questions, my ask is always open! Thanks for reading!)

Pairing: Barry x Reader (gender neutral!!)

Word count: 2131

Warnings: Les Mis allusion at the end (it fit perfectly, I just HAD to)

Masterlist


You shifted your laptop and notebook into your left arm and pulled hard at the heavy door to your favorite study spot: Jitters.

You readjusted the strap of your backpack and headed toward the counter to order your drink. The Barista’s back was toward you, so you patiently waited for her turn around and finally order your more than needed coffee.

“Hi, what can I get– (Y/N)?!” The barista exclaimed. Your eyes widened in excitement.

“Iris! You work here?! Why have I never seen you before?! How are you?” You said happily.

“I’m great! I’m so happy to see you! Now we can finally figure out when we can have that catch-up date!” She said, completely forgetting her job.

“Yes, totally! But, um, I actually have a lot to do right now so-” You began.

“Yeah, of course! Wait here, I’ll give you a copy of my hours!” Iris ran into the ‘employees only’ door. Happy to see your friend again, you patiently waited for her to come back and take your order.

While you quietly stood at the counter, a tall young man walked straight in front of you and leaned over the counter.

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chaitea09  asked:

"Do you need to vent?" Dorlen! Or whoever you want lol

Pavellan. Dorian Pavus x Varlen Lavellan 

(Approx 1400 words, most under the cut) <3


When Dorian opened the door to Varlen’s room, the last thing he expected was for a boot to come flying at his head.

With barely a moment to think, he ducked fast, and the leather projectile kissed the air mere millimetres from Dorian’s cheek. He heard it thud heavily against the wall, its dull impact echoing through the adjacent corridor.

“Well,” Dorian began shortly, standing back up and straightening his robe with an air of affronted dignity. “Nice to see you too.”

“Dorian! I didn’t–I wasn’t–!” Varlen’s spluttered reply was almost as amusing as the man himself, standing there half-dressed and so red-faced he might as well wait until morning to rise with the sun. His newly bare foot hovered off the ground, as though he was reluctant to press it to the floorboards. Dorian couldn’t say he blamed him. Over the course of the evening, they’d all heard rumours of how Orlesians passed the time. Most methods seemed to take place on the floor. Or on a table. Or against a window.

“I’m sorry, vhenan,” Varlen continued hurriedly, hopping a few steps towards Dorian before seemingly changing his mind and steadying himself on the foot of the bed. “If I’d heard you coming, I wouldn’t have—”

“— Flying footwear…” Dorian interrupted suddenly, strolling into the room, his eyes flicking discerningly around the luscious space. “A broken bottle… torn parchment… carelessly discarded clothes…” He stopped a few paces from Varlen, his gaze finally coming to rest on the silver-haired man. “Do you need to vent, amatus?”

It was, apparently, possible for Varlen’s face to turn an even deeper shade of crimson. He shifted with awkward stiffness, one foot still hovering a few inches from the ground, before almost reluctantly touching down onto the polished wood. “It’s stupid,” he muttered sullenly, not meeting Dorian’s gaze. “Really. I thought I was alone, otherwise…”

Dorian sighed as Varlen trailed off. As much as he cared for him, he could be so impossible sometimes. Stubborn. Then again, he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t been a large part of what drew him to the elven man. What could he say? He liked the challenge of someone willing to stand their ground.

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“Get off of tumblr and give me love!”

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Thank you so so so much for 1k! It’s so crazy to think that 1,000+ of you beautiful creatures are enjoying my writing and presence on this site. I don’t know how to thank you guys other than to continue to put out content to stir up your feels and make you feel special. Thank you babies! I love you all!!!! XOXOXO  

“Babe,” I talk over the sound of her fingers tapping on the laptop keys. Her slightly messy hair frames her face, keeping me from taking her attention off of the computer screen. “Babe,” I say louder, inching closer to the blogger in her natural habitat that she calls her bedroom. Despite me moving closer to her, she acts unfazed and continues to write yet another story for her blog. Alright, it’s time to take these matters into my own hands. “Babe!” I startle her as I quickly wrap my arms around her waist to pull her close to me. She clutches onto her laptop for dear life and tries to squirm her way out of my grasp. 

“Dylan, stop!” She says as she continues to struggle. “I’m serious! I need to finish that story! It’s important!” Rolling my eyes, I release her, allowing her to continue her writing. Dating a “fandom” tumblr blogger could sometimes be a pain in the ass. I mean, she has an actual job that she does during the day, but then she’s back on tumblr as soon as she gets home. Most nights, she’s on for a bit and then cuddles or has fun with me. Other nights, she’s glued to the laptop, trying to get an imagine done for her followers. I love that she’s passionate about her blog and her growing group of followers, but sometimes she’s too focused on her writing than me. I move to the end of the bed, resting my head on her long legs under the covers. “Can I help you with something Dylan?” She asks, still not looking up from the screen.

“Yeah,” I look up to the gorgeous girl in front of me. “Get off of tumblr and give me love!” She looks up from her writing and her eyes meet mine. Pulling out my best puppy eyes, I continue to stare into her eyes until she groans and I know that I have won. Slamming her laptop closed, she plugs it into it’s charger by the bed. 

“Well?” She looks at me expectantly, her eyebrows raised. “Now that you’ve prevented me from finishing one of the best imagines of my time on tumblr, what do you want?”  I know her attitude right now is only because of the long day she’s had… And also the fact that I just took her away from one of her outlets to release that attitude into something really great and well written. But hey, it’s not my fault that I miss her sometimes and just want her all to myself. 

“Is it really that hard to get off that dumb computer of yours and just give me attention once in a while?” I rub her legs from under the covers absent mindedly and look to her beautiful face. “Look, I know you’ve had a rough day at work and all, but you don’t have to only go to tumblr to relieve some of the stress. I can be quite the stress reliever myself, if you give me the chance,” I smirk as a blush floods her cheeks. I continue to give her my famous puppy dog eyes, trying to break her. Groaning, she rolls her eyes and pats the spot next to her.  

“Alright, enough with the puppy dog eyes! Just come here and lay with me then!” Grinning victoriously, I crawl over to her and nestle my head on her lap. “There, are you happy now?” I look up to her with a cheeky smile.

“Well, now that you mention it, I am feeling a bit better,” she rolls her eyes and slaps my chest lightly before attaching her fingers to my hair. “What were you writing about this time anyway?” She hangs her head low to her chest, the blush getting redder and her smile getting wider. “Oh my god, (Y/N) no! You were NOT writing smut!” 

“No! No, of course not!” She pushes me lightly. “I could never write a good smut. I leave that to blogs like smutandahalf and stilinski-jpeg.”

“So you’re telling me that you read that stuff?” At this point, (Y/N)’s as red as the tomatoes I had in my salad earlier. 

“I mean, if they happen to show up on my dash then I might just skim them,” I smirk to myself at the thought of (Y/N) reading those kind of stories in her free time or on her breaks at work. Who would’ve thought? 

“Well I’ll be damned,” I look up at her. “A year and a half later and I’m still finding more and more to love about you,” She smiles and continues to twirl her fingers through my hair. 

“If you must know, Mr. Nosey, I was writing about you,” I take a moment to take in what she said, heat rushing to my cheeks as well. “See? I knew I shouldn’t have told you! You think it’s weird!” I reach up to bring her face down to mine, connecting our lips together. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles against my lips. 

“I’m not,” I smile. “In fact, I’m pretty flattered that you’d write about me of all people,” Her eyebrows furrow in confusion.  

“Wait, you’re flattered?” She asks to be sure. 

“Why wouldn’t I be? My gorgeous girlfriend writes all her fantasies about me for the world to see! Of course I’m flattered!” She re-positions herself so that were laying side by side but facing each other. 

“So me writing about you to tons of stories about you doesn’t freak you out or anything?” I kiss her forehead and pull her body closer to mine. 

“Not even in the slightest bit, actually,” she smiles and hums in content. “But that all depends on one thing…”

“What?” She rolls onto me, resting on my chest.

“When will I get to read these stories?” 

Vigilante (Barry Allen X Reader)

Fandom: The Flash
Pairing: Barry Allen X Vigilante!Reader
Word Count: 3,693
Author’s Note: This kinda sucks but not even kidding I spent all day on this and I’m pretty proud of it so?? I’m posting it!! I should probably edit it more but I’m too tired )):

“You know, Flash, we have got to stop meeting like this.” 

The leather-clad man sighed. “We wouldn’t keep meeting like this if you’d just stop robbing banks.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “And why would I do that?”

“Because it’s illegal? Or maybe because deep down you’re not a terrible person?” 

You chuckled bitterly. “You don’t know anything about me, Speedy. How do you know I’m not a terrible person?”

“You haven’t killed anyone. Obviously you’re not a saint, but you’ve yet to seriously injure a single person in your robberies.”

You shrugged. “Whatever you say, Scarlet. Can we skip to the part where you try to catch me and fail, and I escape with the money?”

The Flash zoomed over to you without responding, pinning your hands behind your back and pushing you against the wall. “You’re not getting away that easily this time.” 

You snorted. “Kinky. Should’ve known you would be thanks to that full body leather suit.”

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My Lullaby [p.p] (3/?)

Originally posted by spideycentral

Part 1 Part 2

Series Title: My Lullaby
Fandom: MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe)
Characters: Peter Parker x reader, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, James Rhodes, Vision, T’Challa
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1,727
Short Description: You, a sixteen-year-old girl living in Brooklyn, have botanokinesis (the power to control plant-life) that has caught the attention of Tony Stark. You finally meet Peter Parker at a small dinner Tony organised at the Avengers tower.

Disclaimer: not my gif

[Y/N] = your name
[L/N] = your last name

When F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you it was time for dinner, you had finished your algebra homework and were well into your physics homework. Physics was never your strong point, so you decided that you would just ask somebody for help if worst came to worst. Of course not Tony, because you knew he would be much too busy to help you with your homework. The thought made you feel silly.

Your hair had gotten messy in the ponytail you had pulled it into, so you ran your fingers through it once it was down naturally and decided that was good enough. After a second thought, you grabbed a tube of mascara and swiped the wand over your lashes. Pleased with your appearance, you grabbed your phone and key card before making your way to the elevator, waiting patiently as it came up to your level.

When you arrived on the right floor, the room was buzzing, and everyone was chatting, plus some people you had yet to meet were there as well. For the first time all day, you started to feel nervous. You supposed that you had been so surprised and shell-shocked that you didn’t have the space to feel nervous amongst everything else that you were feeling. Your palms were starting to sweat, so you wiped them on your jeans, smiling when Tony exclaimed about your arrival.

“There she is!” He had said, and everyone’s chatter became quiet. “The little lady of the evening.”

“I’m sixteen, Tony. You make me sound like I’m forty.” You commented, and this made a few people smile. You stood by the elevator, awkwardly at first, with no idea what to do. Finally, Natasha and Clint waved you over, so you took a seat with them, relieved. They were all sat around a large coffee table on plush-looking sofas, so you assumed that dinner would be served there.

“Hungry?” Clint asked you, grinning when he saw you vigorously nodding your head.

“Starving. Usually am after doing my homework. I hate physics.” Speaking to Clint was easier than speaking to, say Steve or Bucky because you felt like Clint understood children and teenagers.  

“Hey now,” Tony said. “You can hate homework all you want, but not physics.” He teased and you smiled, feeling more welcomed by the minute. Especially when people started bringing in the food.

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THANK YOU FOR AN AMAZING 2016!!

Hello everyone. 2016 was a good year to me and i decided to make a thank you post for everyone who made my 2016 as good as it was despite all the shit that happened. if i forgot anyone im deeply sorry.

here we go :

Fave Phan blogs of 2016 –thank you for all the phan content on my dash-:

@dil-no, @angel-bean-d-slice, @internetcultleader

Fave non-kpop blogs of 2016 – thank you so much for bringing some aesthetically pleasing content and info to my dashboard- :

@beeclub, @rnashallah, @baesmillah, @softporn, @htttps.

Fave source blogs of 2016 –aka the blogs I rely on heavily and I thank you so much for uploading so much and keeping me in the loop of info and fantaken photos- :

@fyseokmin , @cottoncandycarat, @purplegirl-stuff, @int-carats, @what17says

Fave girl group blogs –tbh I need more girl group love in 2017- thank you for always reblogging and posting amazing girl group content :

@kgirlsquad, @eunjiyas.

Fave writers/fic blogs of 2016 –I love every single piece you wrote I adore you and you guys are my role model! Thank you for the amazing fics-:

@svtnimagines, @17mounteens, @vixx17andbtsimagines, @svt-husbands,

@horoscoups //I honestly didn’t know in what category to put you I hope you don’t mind//.

Fave humorous kpop blogs of 2016 –honestly your memes/jokes got me laughing in bad days thank you-:

@luvmyfunnykpop, @incorrect7teen, @amemericans, @lolfunnykpop.

Fave blogs of 2016, senpais, friends, gif makers, the blessing of fandoms and more –thank you so much for filling and brightening my day and dash you are amazing and you look beautiful every single day, 17/10 blogs would always recommend–:

@jejuboos, @floraljeonghan, @zeungkwan@bijoujisoo, @kimbap-uh-kidding, @youngmangos, @amillionwon, @starryjunhui, @jackoffjae, @honeyboobooseungkwan, @mangopixies, @vitaminhoshi, @wooziology, @hannie-jars, @wonnhao, @chasingyoungjae, @mc-gyu, @minghaeo, @lilchubchim, @c0ups, @converseconvict, @danisnotonnfire, @hanwooz, @eatmark, @seungkvvan, @leehongbins, @ottokaji-vixx, @actualminghao, @sandeulsbeautifultarget, @j-holy, @awwfuckno, @hypertone, @haramqueen, @merribaozy, @influentyeol, @cutiepatoodie, @linnilinh, @once-upon-a-nugget, @of-yehets-and-ohorats, @vitaminniedk, @eetjin, @junhan, @hughosh.

Fave followes of 2016, in 2016 ive gained over 120 new followers and tbh you guys made my year and I love you dearly:

@grapefruit-kwan, @tea-tiffuku, @mingyoose, @suni-hye, @angelyoons, oetori137, @chentangled, @golden-boo, @tsunderetrashheap, @red-raindrops, @ttamagucci, @crumbsyboo, @williane18, @boo-dynasty, @c0unter-fucks, @ink7, @floweringstarlight.

Fave people I met on tumblr 2016, I would like to take the time to thank them personally so if you wanna continue reading it will be under the cut:

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Hair Dying! New Tutorial/Info Post!

So while I’ve done dying tutorials in the past, I’ve learned SO MUCH MORE about long-term upkeep and loving on your poor hair since the last time I went red, so I decided I might as well type up a new one!

All You Need To Know About The Care & Keeping of Your Manic Panic Mop:

(mileage may vary by hair type, though do know that textured hair tends to hold onto color even better)

Picking Your Color:

Knowing “your colors” is important, no matter how femme/concerned with fashion you are or aren’t! Everyone in the world, no matter their race, either has a blue-based, or yellow-based skin tone. It’s a fact, and no matter your style or whether or not you wear makeup, when you wear colors close to your face that aren’t in your skin tone, you can tend to look sallow, ill. Now, y’might not care that much, but hey, looking not-sick is kind of awesome, yeah?

The old question beauty magazines always ask is “do you wear more gold, or silver?” Which is helpful, but, say you don’t wear much of either? Or anything? So I’ve thought of a better question: 

How do you look in orange?

Not how you feel about it, love or hate, just hold something orange up around to frame your face. I’ll wait.

Does it give you a nice healthy flush? Or do you look half-dead and the dark circles under your eyes pop out? If the former, huzzah you have a yellow-based complexion! If the latter, huzzah your complexion is blue-based!

I have a blue-based complexion, and so I try to keep yellow-based colors/tones away from my face. Thus, when going red, my chosen poison is an equal mix of Manic Panic’s Vampire Red and Wildfire. The Wildfire gives me the cherry red POP! I crave, while the Vampire Red tones out any yellow-y shades there might be between the Wildfire and left over from bleaching, and it adds some depth. I also from time to time add the TINIEST dash of blue, esp. right after lightening, to help tone out any yellows. Mix in a tablespoon or so of conditioner for good measure, and that’s what’s on my head!

Bleaching: 

While some Manic Panic shades (Midnight Blue, Vampire Red, and Ultra Violet come to mind) give a nice tint to medium-dark hair, for most “unusual” colors to show on your head, sorry, but you’ll need to lighten, unless you’re already a lemony/mousy blonde or lighter. Now, if all you’re going for is a good light base for a bold color? Stuff you can get at the drug store is fine. If you have darker hair and want more white/pastel locks, go talk to the folks at Sally’s Beauty Supply (or similar providers) about stronger formulas.

 Now in the past I’ve had good luck with Manic Panic lightening kits, but that was when my hair was much shorter. Anything brushing my shoulders, I find that their kits aren’t nearly enough formula for my whole mane. Now I use Nice’n Easy’s Born Blonde kit when I have to do my whole head, which you can get at CVS for some few dollars! I have natural dark brown hair, it brings my natural growth to lemon yellow in one go.

Long Termers: If you’ll be doing your roots regularly, invest in a big ol’ bottle of wella developer at Sally’s for six bucks, and whenever you need to touch up your roots grab a wee little box of bleach to mix some of it with. Sally’s is your friend, ask the sales people there stuff! 

Dying/Set-Up:

Now, wait before you dye, after lightening.

It’s not that Manic Panic will hurt your now-weakened hair, quite the contrary! Manic Panic is vegan and conditioning, it is GREAT for your hair. Naw, you wanna wait a bit because bleaching at home makes your hair a slippy, slidey, often-gritty base. This is why I give myself at least a whole day between processes, with a couple of plain water rinses, if I have to do the whole process at once (I didn’t this time, as I went light-natural-redhead a few weeks ago). A day and some sleep, your oils come back out and it’s more of something to grip on.

 The jar may say to apply to freshly cleaned hair, but I’ve never found that to be true for me, I get the best color on “day old” hair.

 Before I dye, I tie up my dry hair and then line my hairline, ears and the whole back of my neck with petroleum jelly. This will make it MUCH easier to wipe away smudges, as even though it has no harsh chemicals and is a semi-perm dye, MP will stain your skin like a motherfucker.

 After applying gloves and mixing the two jars + drops of blue together in a saran-wrapped bowl, I carefully hit up my hairline with a brush, getting all wispies and carefully applying around my ears.

 And then for the rest I just fuckin’ dig in with my hands and glob on, until you’re fully saturated :D

 The jars say 30 minutes? I never leave mine on for less than an hour (my former boss about 10 years ago, she would leave hers in overnight!). MP is, again, vegan and contains no harsh chemicals, it’s like leaving your conditioner in for as long as you want. I wrap my head in saran-wrap and then tie a kerchief over that, and go about my nightly business…like writing up a tutorial!

Long Termers: I recently tried this trick and it worked amazingly. Upkeep can be pricy, after all, and with me using two different colors every time, well, you can imagine. A good trick is to take a tablespoon of each/all jars before dying, and mix them up with about half a cup of your favorite gentle conditioner. Save it in a bottle or empty dye jar, along with whatever’s left over once your hair is saturated. It will be perfectly fine for amping up your color in two weeks, processing it the same way you would with the regular color jars, so viola! A whole month of color for the price of half a month!

Aftercare/Lifestyle:

Lather and rinse as instructed, and voila! You now have amazing hair!

Now as I said before, for all it’s wonderful qualities, Manic Panic stains shit like a motherfucker, though no shade quite so much as the reds. Whether you are long-term coloring or just enjoying it for the two weeks it is vibrant, be prepared. Have a special towel just for your hair, dry off the lengths while still in the tub to minimize tile-stains, be ready with a spritzer of bleach and water for your shower after every rinse. Refrain from shampooing too much (I never do more than once a week anyway, twice if I’m working out a lot), but condition often, with a color-safe formula.

If you swim a lot, invest in a swimming cap (so many vintage-y options out there!), unless you want your suit stained which, I can’t deny, rising from the depths looking like Carrie after the Prom can have its appeal >.>

And above all, swagger.

Magnolia

A/N: Wow guys…I wasn’t expecting that kind of response to ‘Wearing Red,’ honestly thank you so much it means the absolute world to me. Hope you enjoy this one :) Some sad fluff, but still fluff! 

…I think this is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written.

Rating: K+ - mild language

Pairing(s): NaLu.

Prompt/Summary: “I accidentally set your plant on fire and I felt super guilty so I went to the store to buy you another plant but they ran out of the plant that you had and I didn’t know what other kind of plant you liked so I may or may not have bought you enough plants to fill a small greenhouse?” NaLu. AU. OneShot. Complete.

Word Count: 3,623

Natsu had always loved fire.

Watching candles had always helped him to sleep, campfires always smelled really good––especially because of the food you could cook––and were fun to make, and learning to juggle and eat fire was something he was absolutely crazy about.

But in this moment, he’d never hated fire more in his life.

It always behaved when you knew how to tame flames, and was predictable under his conditions. But today?

Today fire decided to be a dick.

Natsu had no idea what did it, or what had happened, but one moment he was juggling five burning batons, and the next…

One was in his neighbour’s yard completely destroying her favourite flower.

How did he know it was her favourite?

Because of all the plants she had in the small garden of her backyard, this was the one he’d seen her spending the most time caring for.

The only one she’d nurtured from a seed.

When she first moved in, Natsu could barely even talk to her. She was so gorgeous he found himself too shy to say anything, so he either hid in his house or behind his fire.

But he’d notice things about her.

He noticed how some days she’d come home from work, too upset to change out of her waitress uniform and sit in the back with a book and a glass of wine and just read for hours. 

He noticed on how other days when she was more relaxed, she’d change into baggier clothes and work on the garden––pulling weeds, planting small potted flowers.

He noticed how she pulled at the ends of her hair when she was thinking, and gnaw on her lower lip when she was reading.

…man that made him sound like a creep.

All of these things made him want to talk to her so badly, but to this day in the three months since they’d been living side by side, he hadn’t had the courage.

The only thing they’d really communicated through, were smiles.

The few times she caught him looking, she’d light up with a brightness unmatched by any star, and all he ever wanted was to make that happen again.

And this was the exact way not to do that.

Within seconds of losing the baton, Natsu had hopped into her backyard and snatched the thing away, but a few seconds was all it took.

The plant was burned beyond saving.

Fuck!”

He turned and kicked the fence, hard. Hands balled into fists, the pinkette took a few deep breaths before sprinting to his car.

He only had an hour.

“Alright Lucy, you’re cut.”

The blonde did her best to keep a straight face, but she couldn’t help the small smile that crossed her lips. 

She was done for today.

“Thanks Mira,” she breathed, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Get home safe!”

Pulling the elastic from her hair, she ran her fingers through the long tresses to loosen them from her scalp. She’d just gotten to the best part of her book and really needed a glass of wine tonight.

There was just this one family who knew how to make her life hell. The kids screamed and disrupted the surrounding tables by running around the restaurant, and when she had to say something about it, the parents would yell at her and either ask for a different server, or leave no tip.

How in the world did people like that exist?

Lucy pulled open the door to her car and nearly collapsed into the drivers seat. Pulling her keys from her jacket, she jammed them into the ignition and turned the engine over. The sound itself calmed her down a bit as she pulled out and set her way home.

Fairy Tail wasn’t a bad place to work. She loved her manager Mira, and had really bonded over reading with her coworker Levy. The two of them had gotten close extremely fast and were excited to find out they were reading the same book and were nearly at the same part.

That was another reason she wanted to get home quickly. Aside from reading being her favourite way to relax, Lucy wanted to finish it by tomorrow so she and Levy could talk more.

The blonde had to avoid nearly ripping the door off its hinges once she pulled into her driveway. Eager to grab another bottle of wine, she shuffled in the direction of her front door.

A flash of white caught her eye.

Eyes narrowed, the blonde made her way back to her car and pulled the wooden baseball bat from its home under the back seat. Gripping it firmly, she snuck her way around back, ready to strike.

The sound of leaves crunching filled her ears, confirming her suspicions.

Someone was in her backyard.

Securing her hold on her weapon, the blonde jumped into view, rearing to pummel the thief––

She froze, the bat slipping from her fingers.

She was surrounded by flowers.

Surrounded.

Ivy and blue geraniums hung from the hooks beneath her roof’s overhang. The troughs lining the fence that she’d already filled with petunias were now surrounded by pink and red dianthus. The rest of her backyard was littered with chrysanthemums, regular mums, hydrangeas, calla lilies, begonias, ixora, blue bells and so many others she didn’t even recognize. The flowers hung over her fence, nestled in the corners of her house and decorated the side of her back steps. There was even an orchid on her porch table.

“What in the world…”

Lucy’s jaw went slack as she walked into her backyard, filled with more flowers than she could ever possibly hope to have. The last time she’d been around this many flowers was when––

Her eyes began to water.

“How––”

Her eyes landed on the body she’d seen dashing into her backyard.

It was her neighbour.

Before she could even get a word out, he started to talk.

“Okay, so I know you probably want to hit me right now since I’m in your yard and you don’t know me and this seems really really creepy and stuff but I swear I’m not a creeper––” he began to pace, pink hair falling in his eyes.

“––but I know how much you loved that plant and I honestly didn’t mean for that to happen and I tried to find you a new one even though I know it wouldn’t be the same since you didn’t grow it yourself and––”

“Hey,” she said softly.

He didn’t notice.

“––probably got the seed from someone important but I tried to go and find another one but I couldn’t so I just––”

“Hey!”

The pinkette started, looking over at her shyly.

“What is it?” she asked, cocking her head to one side.

The man deflated, “I accidentally burned your plant, so I tried to buy you a new one, but none of the stores had it so I kinda just…”

“Bought me enough flowers to fill a small greenhouse?” she asked, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, “Yeah…”

His eyes seemed to dull as they focused on a certain area by her porch. Following his eye gaze, Lucy saw what it is he was talking about.

Her white magnolia had been charred severely.

The blonde’s heart sank.

Walking over slowly, she fell to her knees, tracing her fingers along the burned edges of the petals––white turned black. The silky feel to the leaves were now gone and there was no real way for her to save the plant now.

Tears filled her eyes.

“Ah, shit.”

She faintly registered her neighbour’s voice, but her mind was too focused on the plant in front of her.

“It was the last one from my mother,” she said aloud, “she and I used to have a greenhouse and garden all the time.”

Digging her fingers into the soil, the blonde pulled the flower out by the roots, “She and I always meant to grow this one, but didn’t get around to it before she got sick.”

She turned to face him.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Natsu.”

“Natsu,” she said softly, walking up to him and holding out the flower. “Can you get rid of it for me? I just…I can’t bring myself to.” The tears that had been brimming felt warm against her cheeks as they fell.

The pinkette tentatively took the bundle of roots and leaves from her.

He watched as she looked around her overwhelmingly full flowered backyard.

“It’s beautiful,” was all she said before walking back into the house.

He hadn’t seen her since.

Nor had he wanted to.

Well…that was a lie. More than anything he wanted to go and talk to her, to go into his backyard and see her. It was killing him more than usual to keep to himself, especially after what she’d told him.

But there was no way she’d want to see him.

He’d managed to find out that it was an extremely rare magnolia flower that bloomed as a plant instead of a tree––nearly unheard of in the botanical community––and extremely difficult to maintain and nurture once harmed or neglected, which explained why the blonde had been so quick to toss it.

But where as Natsu’s fire was strong, Natsu himself was stronger.

Taking a deep breath, he walked up to her front door to see her for the first time in about a month. Her car was in the driveway, so he knew she was home. Whether she’d decide to answer the door or not once she saw it was him, he didn’t know.

He rang the doorbell.

Footsteps echoed through the house and paused behind the large slab of wood in front of him. Bouncing on his heels, Natsu did his best to keep his stomach where it belonged.

The latched clicked and the door swung open.

“What is it, Natsu?” she asked, breathless. She didn’t look like she’d been running, but it was obvious to him that she was exhausted in every definition of the word.

Wordlessly, he handed the box in his hands to her.

Brow furrowed, the blonde pulled the top off to reveal another potted magnolia plant.

She sighed, slightly annoyed, “Natsu, I don’t want another one. I love the ones in the backyard, don’t get me wrong, but you have to sto––”

“It’s not another one.”

She blinked.

He reached into the box and pulled out the plant. Holding it with one hand, he picked out a small leaf, running his thumb along the jagged edges.

“It’s the same one,” he whispered.

She just stared.

“I couldn’t throw it out…” he said softly, “not without trying everything I could to save it, and especially after you didn’t even get mad at me for it.”

He felt her fingertips slide along his palms as they cupped the pot and tentatively brought it into her body.

Her eyes glossed over as she headed back into her house.

Sighing deeply, Natsu turned to head back in the direction of his house but was stopped by two arms wrapping securely around his waist. He could feel his shirt dampen between his shoulder blades as he felt her convulsions and heard her sobs.

“Thank you,” she whispered, tightening her grip. “Thank you so much, Natsu.”

He brought his hands up from where they were at his sides to weave his fingers through hers and squeeze.

“Anytime,” he whispered, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb as she cried.

And boy did he mean that.

Her name was Lucy.

Since that day, they began to talk a bit more when they were both in their backyards, or when they’d get home from work at the same time. Sometimes about the weather, other times about a trick he was learning or about a book she was reading.

She even started reading to him sometimes when he was practicing, or he’d show her a few tricks as she gardened.

Her magnolia was back in its spot, surrounded by the flowers he’d gotten for her.

She hadn’t returned a single one, though she’d tried.

“You have to let me take these back,” she’d told him, looking at all the plants, “there’s no way this didn’t cost you a small fortune.”

But Natsu would refuse blatantly, even going so far as to burn the receipt in front of her so there was no hope of him ever getting his money back.

“They make you happy, right?” he’d asked, dark eyes boring into hers. When he looked at her like that there was no way for her to lie.

“Yes,” she’d blushed.

“That’s all that matters then, Luigi,” he teased, a smirk playing across his features.

“It’s Lucy!”

He knew it was Lucy, but he loved to tease her anyway. That smile lit up his whole world, and he’d’ve bought her another bunch of flowers if he could see it one more time because of that.

There was one morning where he came outside to see her in the backyard with the magnolia once again uprooted in her hands.

Natsu was frantic.

“What happened?! Did I do something wrong?! Is it dead?!”

Her musical laugh silenced his ramblings as he watched her nestle it into a small pot.

“No,” she smiled, “I’m just moving it somewhere else today.”

Natsu let out a gush of air as his anxiety dissipated.

“You can come with me if you want?” she offered, dark eyes looking to him.

He found himself nodding.

It wasn’t until he pulled up to their destination that the pieces fell together. Why the flower meant so much to her because of her mother.

Her mother who was sick…

Natsu’s stomach sank as she pulled into the cemetery parking lot.

He didn’t like where he thought this was headed.

With a pot in hand and a shovel in the other, Lucy lead him through hundreds of tombstones before coming to a dark grey marble one.

                                               Layla Heartfilia

                                                   X748-X777

                                        Beloved wife and mother.

Of course.

“That’s why you didn’t want another one,” he muttered to himself as she kneeled beside the grave.

“Hm?”

Lucy looked at him with inquisitive eyes.

Natsu shook his head, “Nothing.”

He watched as she dug into the ground with the shovel and carefully set the magnolia within the hole.

“We said we’d grow it one day,” she started, lifting up the leaves to press down on the loose soil, “but never got around to it.

“So,” she whispered, brushing a few specks of dirt from the petals, “I decided that I’d grow them to plant here.

“But,” she brushed the dirt from her hands and stood up, “I failed each time until I only had one seed left.”

The blonde turned to him then.

“You’re the reason I can plant this here now, Natsu.” Her voice cracked as her eyes began to water once again with a smile ghosting her lips.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He pulled her into his chest.

He rested his cheek atop her head and rubbed her back as she cried.

“I miss her,” she murmured, as he held her tighter to him.

“I know,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “She’s with you though, watching over you. She loves you.”

He felt her nod into his chest and grip harder at the fabric of the back of his shirt.

He just hugged her.

Her tears began to slow and he heard her breathing return to normal and her muscles relax. She turned her head to the side, now resting her forehead in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you for coming here with me today,” she muttered.

He rubbed her cheek with his thumb, brushing the hair and tears from her face.

“Anytime, Luce.”

He drove her home, taking care to hold her hand and rub the back of it just below her knuckles. Before he knew it, there was a faint snore coming from the passengers seat.

He pulled into her driveway and––without waking her––carried her into his house and up to his bed. He thanked himself for not making his bed so he didn’t have to disturb her more than necessary getting her under the covers.

He undid the laces of her sneakers, pulling them off her feet and setting them beside the bed. Once he was sure she’d be comfortable, he pulled the covers up and over her shoulders beneath her chin.

He then pulled off his shirt, tossed it into the corner of the room, and lounged back into the chair in the corner of his room.

He wasn’t just going to disappear after all.

The first thing Lucy smelled, was warmth.

She didn’t know what that really entailed exactly. There was cinnamon in there somewhere with campfire and a slight tinge of burning food. An odd combination, sure, but for some reason made Lucy feel comfortable.

She cracked her eyes open.

She wasn’t in her room.

Her heart leapt in her chest and her began to race as she tried to figure out where she was, how she got here, and what the last thing she remembered was.

Her eyes landed on the pink-haired hunk in the corner.

Yes. He was a hunk.

A faint snore echoed from where he lounged in a leather chair, and she didn’t fail to notice the shadows that emphasized the muscles beneath his skin.

She ran her tongue along her teeth.

His chest rose and fall, eyes closed and jaw slack. He had a faint smile turning up the corners of his lips as he slept, and Lucy’s heart went from racing to aching.

Aching because he was so kind to her.

He’d done more for her in only a few days––she didn’t count the time they weren’t talking or when they were at work––than so many others had done in the months or even years she’d known them.

He was the highlight of her day, and now here he was watching over her as she slept.

What could she do for him?

yes.

She pulled the covers back and tiptoed out into his house, looking around.

She felt something soft brush against her ankles.

The blonde blinked as she looked down to come face to face with a blue cat. Bright eyes followed her as its tail flicked back and forth, seemingly taking in her every movement.

“Hey you,” she smiled, extending her fingers toward him.

The cyan feline sniffed her fingers before pressing its face into her hand for a moment. His eyes closed and Lucy heard him purr slightly before walking away back in the direction of Natsu’s room.

She shook her head slightly while continuing to explore his house, eventually finding the kitchen.

It was a mess.

How did he even take care of himself in this state?

Lucy shook her head again and got to work.

Thirty minutes later, the room was free of all dirty dishes, strewn boxes and snacks, and she’d set the table with an array of breakfast foods on the table. Judging by the light outside, they’d gotten to sleep later than she’d initially intended––Natsu probably got lost on the way home, that cemetery was hard to find and even harder to get home from––so breakfast seemed like her best bet.

She was flipping the last pancake when a loud bang came from the direction of his bedroom.

“Lucy?!”

She barely got time to answer before pounding footsteps powered their way through the hall toward the kitchen.

He was out of breath.

His eyes came into contact with hers, and within seconds his hands were on her face and he was checking every part of her body.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

Lucy giggled.

“Yes I’m okay,” she snickered, reaching up to curl her fingers around his and pull him toward the table, “I just wanted to thank you by making you breakfast.”

The pinkette’s eyed widened in awe.

“Oh my god I think I love you,” he nearly yelled before dashing to the table and starting to shovel food into his mouth.

Lucy knew he was just joking, but the more she watched him––and ignored his less than attractive eating habits––the more it dawned on her.

…I think I love you too.

She shook that thought out of her head as she sat down to join him.

They’d finished within the hour and though Lucy offered to clean up, Natsu refused.

“You made the best food I’ve had in months, Luce,” he grinned, smile lighting up his aura, “the least I can do is clean up.”

She nodded as he saw her to his front door.

She was about to walk out when his hand found hers, stopping her from walking out onto his front porch.

“Hey, Luce?”

She turned back to him with a raised brow.

“Uhm,” he blushed, looking down and scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “Can I make you dinner some time?”

Lucy’s heart warmed.

“I’d love that.”

He beamed.

“Good. Come over after you finish work!” 

“Wait, wha––”

“I’ll do something special for ya,” his gaze left hers as he seemed to go off into his own little world, muttering about meats and spices.

Lucy found herself hugging him tight.

“Thank you, Natsu,” she smiled, looking up at him.

Natsu’s brow furrowed, “For what?”

The blonde raised onto her tiptoes, placing a chaste kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“For being you,” she said, squeezing his hand before walking out the door.

For being my sun.

anonymous asked:

fic prompt? this person has a huge crush on another person and he/she doodles on their notebooks about their crush and one day, the person's crush accidentally takes their notebook instead of their own

This is a great one so thank you, lil anon. I have no idea how American universities are so this is completely based on how things work at my university. (Thursday is the day everyone goes out because a lot of the students return home for the weekend)

The Best Time of Your Life

~3700 words

ff.net

Tagging some peeps: @allison-chase @shady-swan-jones @the-reason-to-sail-home @emmajones1019 (Want a tag, no longer want a tag? Let me know)


Who on earth believed it was all right to schedule one of the most complex and difficult courses on a Friday, at 8.30 in the morning, no less. Because Killian could have a serious talk with that person. Students are not fresh, nor eager to learn at that time; they are tired, their minds still hazed by alcohol and lack of sleep. And having those people sit through a three hour lecture by a professor who has never heard of the word intonation, is basically spurring them to fail.

But every week again, at 8.15 sharp Killian walks into the lecture hall, a trace of darkness under his eyes and the thought that he can’t miss this class in his head.

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Why I will never again clarify that I disapprove of the actions of the fëanorians

Alright guys. This is it. It has been so long since I was last pushed to write something like this. It’s been a LONG TIME since tumblr pushed me into writing angry rants and I like to think that I’ve come quite a far bit since I started roleplaying here in 2012.

But here it is.

I’m angry.

And whether that’s because I’m currently on my period or not doesn’t really matter. This is something that has crawled under my skin for AGES now, and only now has it reached a breaking point where I have to say something or I’ll explode.
I’ll try to put it under a Read More, but knowing tumblr on my laptop it won’t put it in (which is why I can only RP smut on my phone, how about that~?)

So here goes.

Prepare the torches.


Ever since I got into the Silmarillion fandom on tumblr, I have been surprised by how nice it is compared to other fandoms I’ve been in. The amount of drama has been quite a lot less than it used to be in the Castlevania and Hellsing fandoms and for that I am grateful. Whether it’s because people in this fandom are more grown up, or whether it’s because I’ve allowed myself to become picky with what I feel comfortable with on here is unclear, but trust me when I say that I love the Tolkien fandom. I wouldn’t be on here every day interacting with the lot of you if I didn’t.
We have so many skilled artists, so many wonderful writers, so many AMAZING roleplayers, and honestly the lot of you spoil me every day and generally you provide me with a safe haven when I need it.
This fandom is usually my happy place. I love you.

BUT!

Ever since the beginning there has been a clear hatred towards my favourite characters - The Fëanorians, and most prominently, Fëanor himself.

I am not of the delusion that all people must like the same things I do just because I like them. I am not so egoistic and childish that I will jump every thread that says they’re bad (though whether I’m childish or not for writing this can clearly be discussed, but that is of no importance at this moment).
No, if I see something I don’t like on tumblr, I simply do the very grown up thing of IGNORING or UNFOLLOWING rather than harass the other person that doesn’t like my fave.

A couple of days ago (I think it was just the day before yesterday) I went through the ‘Feanor’ tag again here on tumblr and was greeted with the usual stuff. Amazing art, fantastic drabbles about my favourite character, and mostly just very comedic things.

But then there were those things. The hate things put in the Fëanor-tag for some reason.

After a couple of moments of going through a dash that was pretty much 50/50 hate and love, I decided to write a tiny teeny post saying ‘I will defend the fëanorians unto world’s end’.

Many people liked it and some reblogged it….

And then, suddenly, it was there…..

“But I disapprove of their actions”

That right there made me see red.

Holy fucking shit I am so sick and tired of this by now!

Why do we need to clarify that we don’t approve of murder?

Why must we defend ourselves by claiming things that are fucking natural to human beings?!

Do you honestly think so lowly of other people that you think they approve of murder just because they tend to like a murderous character!?

I think it says quite a lot that I’ve gotten more criticism for loving the Fëanorians than I have for actively roleplaying disturbing threads as SAURON

….. Alright, let me talk through this calmly. Because this doesn’t just concern the fëanorians - it concerns internet community as a whole.

I don’t know if anyone else agrees, but I for one get really pissed off when people feel the need to explain to me that ‘It’s just my opinion’ and ‘you don’t have to agree with me’ and ‘it’s just my headcanon so please don’t take it seriously’. I did do that as well - I still occassionally do and I HATE that the internet can be so toxic that we feel the need to do that, or we’ll be lynched.

I find the term sincerely patronazing and downgrading honestly. Yes - we’re all (mostly) grownups. We’re talking about a book written in the 1950′s that doesn’t even have ONE line of canon, because there was once this letter and oh Tolkien changed his mind and then there was that one edition in which he tried a thing and later corrected it….

We KNOW it’s headcanons, darlings. We KNOW it’s just your opinion, that’s what we’re here for! If your opinion is that Galadriel is a character sent from the heavens above, while I rather see Fëanor as the very image of a perfect character, then yes! Sure! We’re both allowed to have those opinions! We can both have headcanons!

Hell have you SEEN how many Sauron roleplayers there are on this site? I could use up every finger on both hands and STILL not cover all of them! Does that get me hostile?

@dragonofmordor  has amazing headcanons about how sweet Angbang can be while @markedasinfernal has the most gruesome fantastic fanfics written about them, and they are portrayed QUITE differently! Even more so - Neither of them are my direct line of headcanons or opinions, but I still fucking love them because they’re awesome and thought through and they give me feelings.
I’m gonna go out and tell you right now, @misbehavingmaiar is quite possibly my favourite Sauron on this whole site, to the point where I’m too shy to even interact so all I can do is admire them from afar. Our Saurons are so vastly different that most would question how the fuck I can like big and ruff and gorgeous and manly Sauron, when my own is very sleek and obsessed with outer beauty, with his very feminine stature and corsets….
Because we should fucking embrace differences instead of flaming people who don’t agree, alright?
(sorry for tagging you lot in this rant - I love you senpais)

I would ask you not to misunderstand me. I am not angry at you for writing it and clarifying that it’s just your opinion - I am angry that you have been put through shit that made you scared to share ideas and passions without feeling the need to defend them. It disturbs me that you feel the need to do it because you’re scared of me…! It is INFURIATING that you have been pushed to a point where you have to defend yourself when you do what you love because people will hate on you otherwise!

I can redirect us to the whole debate that went on before about ‘whether Elwing was a shitty mother’ or not. I didn’t share my two cents with you back then, so Imma do it now.

I don’t care about her. At all. I don’t care about Lùthien and Beleg and their family line until we reach Elrond and Elros. That isn’t because ‘she’s a woman’ or because of her actions, it’s simply because I am a very emotion driven person, and they don’t give me any emotions or feelings at all.

But the fëanorians do.

They give me feelings - they invoke emotions in me - I feel sorry for them, I cheer them on, I mourn for them when they fall one by one, and I love them with such a passion that I have posted their pictures on my very wall and I use my Fëanorian cups daily and proudly.

Hell, you guys, I CAN EVEN TAKE JOKES! MOST OF US CAN! ‘Terrible dad fëanor’ was a fucking funny comic, even though I firmly believe that Fëanor was a loving and supportive dad and I love him with all my heart <3

—-

My Mairon is married to Fëanor in a certain AU. Whoopdido, that is NOT very canon, but nontheless it happened and SilmRing sails happily.
You wanna know something funny?

Fëanor as a character gets more hate than Sauron does.

Why?

Why is that?

Why is the ARGUABLY ACTUAL EVIL character forgiven and excused? Why don’t I have to explain that ‘I don’t disapprove of his actions’? Is it because it’s a natural assumption to make? Is it because it’s a NATURAL THING not to approve of burning people alive, torturing people for fun, feeding people to spiders for personal amusement, and wanting to take over the world?

Why can we not do the same with Fëanor?

—-

I’m going to do a little round-up summary kind of thing now just to conclude this very VERY long rant of mine, that was admittedly more angry than I usually like to be on here, but here goes:

TL:DR - Never ever feel the need to apologize for your passion with me. Never apologize for sharing your headcanons whether they align with mine or not.
You shouldn’t have to clarify to anyone that ‘it’s just your opinion’ and ‘I don’t approve of murder’, because unless the person you’re talking to is an actual infant they will understand that you’re not claiming your headcanons as ‘facts’. Even if you did, canon is not a fixed-in-stone-thing, especially not in the Tolkien fandom.

I’ve said it before - Love and let love. I may not follow you if your blog only consists of Fëanorian hate, and you may not follow mine, but that is all okay! We all like different things for fuck’s sake!
Many people have this fandom here as a safe zone where they can geek out and be happy.

Don’t ruin that. Don’t take people’s safety and happiness away.


@silver-vessel @first-son-of-finwe (tagging you cause I thought you’d want to see this)

Petty Theft

(( A collaborative story by mayugehero​ and myself based on this prompt! ))

“Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery, but today you’ve caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the ‘girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft’ and I’m trying to figure out how to break it to you that we’re on our way to a graveyard” AU - awful-aus

Arthur’s garden was his pride and joy.

For a single man in his mid-twenties, perhaps it was an odd hobby. If his grandfather were still alive, he would have called him a poofter, which… actually wasn’t wrong, it turned out. But his sexual orientation aside, Arthur had always loved gardening, ever since his mother had brought him outside when he was no more than five years old and helped him sow the seeds of his first rose bush.

Even now, far from where he had grown up in England with all of those fond memories, he continued to make his own by cultivating a lovely sprawl of all sorts of flowers. It was a year-round job, maintaining the perennials he grew and preparing for the annuals he would plant in the spring. Building support structures and stakes, keeping pests and animals away, meticulous pruning, watering, fertilizing–there was always something to be done. But he didn’t mind.

It gave him something to do while he wasn’t at the office, something other than romance to put his heart into because his endeavors in the latter always ended awfully. Plus, freshly-cut blooms always made a delightful present for others, and his own kitchen table vase was never empty, keeping his home from becoming too dreary with just a dash of yellow, red, or violet.

The entire neighborhood envied and admired the fruits of his hard work, both figuratively and literally, as he had decided to start growing fruits and vegetables in the backyard last summer. Arthur would have been perfectly happy, had his flowers out front remained untouched.

Recently, however, something strange had begun to happen.

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huffingtonpost.com
The Problem with 'Boys Will Be Boys' - The Huffington Post

Text by Soraya Chemaly

For months, every morning when my daughter was in preschool, I watched her construct an elaborate castle out of blocks, colorful plastic discs, bits of rope, ribbons and feathers, only to have the same little boy gleefully destroy it within seconds of its completion.

It was obvious that this little guy got massive joy out of doing this. The first time, my daughter just stared in amazement and I tried to help her rebuild. Second time: sadness. Third time: The Injustice! “Why did he do that again?” Fourth time: Royally Pissed Girl wanted to know why his parent didn’t stop him. And what about me? Fifth time: She was ready with some ideas about stopping him.

During the course of this socialization exercise, we tried several strategies and his parents engaged in conversation with us, but mostly me. One or the other of them would occasionally, always after the fact, smile and apologize as they whisked him away. Figuring out what they would say next became a fun game:

“You know! Boys will be boys!”

“He’s just going through a phase!”

“He’s such a boy! He LOVES destroying things!”

“Oh my god! Girls and boys are SO different!”

“He. Just. Can’t. Help himself!”

No matter how many times he did it, they never swooped in BEFORE the morning’s live 3-D reenactment of “Invasion of AstroMonster.”

I tried to teach my daughter how to stop this from happening. She asked him politely not to do it. We talked about some things she might do. She moved where she built. She stood in his way. She built a stronger foundation to the castle, so that, if he did get to it, she wouldn’t have to rebuild the whole thing. In the meantime, I imagine his parents thinking, “What red-blooded boy wouldn’t knock it down?”

She built a beautiful, glittery castle in a public space.

It was so tempting.

He just couldn’t control himself and, being a boy, had violent inclinations.

She had to keep her building safe.

Her consent didn’t matter. Besides, it’s not like she made a big fuss when he knocked it down. It wasn’t a “legitimate” knocking over if she didn’t throw a tantrum.

His desire – for power, destruction, control, whatever- - was understandable.

Maybe she “shouldn’t have gone to preschool” at all. OR, better if she just kept her building activities to home.

I know it’s a lurid metaphor, but I taught my daughter the preschool block precursor of don’t “get raped” and this child, Boy #1, did not learn the preschool equivalent of “don’t rape.”

Not once did his parents talk to him about invading another person’s space and claiming for his own purposes something that was not his to claim. Respect for my daughter and her work and words was not something he was learning. It was, to them, some kind of XY entitlement. How much of the boy’s behavior in coming years would be excused in these ways, be calibrated to meet these expectations and enforce the “rules” his parents kept repeating?

There was another boy who, similarly, decided to knock down her castle one day. When he did it his mother took him in hand, explained to him that it was not his to destroy, asked him how he thought my daughter felt after working so hard on her building and walked over with him so he could apologize. That probably wasn’t much fun for him, but he did not do it again.

There was a third child. He was really smart. He asked if he could knock her building down. She, beneficent ruler of all pre-circle-time castle construction, said yes… but only after she was done building it and said it was OK. They worked out a plan together and eventually he started building things with her and they would both knock the thing down with unadulterated joy. You can’t make this stuff up.

Take each of these three boys and consider what he might do when he’s older, say, at college, drunk at a party, mad at an ex-girlfriend who rebuffs him and uses words that she expects will be meaningful and respecte, “No, I don’t want to. Stop. Leave.”

Based on Boy #1’s parents blanket gender essentialisms and explanations, my daughter and the kids around her could easily have come to the conclusion that all boys went through this phase, are so different from girls, cannot control themselves, and love destroying things. But, that’s not the case. Some do. Some don’t. There are also lots of girls who are very interested in ripping things apart systematically.

I have one of those, too. “Destructo Girl” was our nickname for this daughter. Given the slightest opportunity,she would grab whatever toy either of her sisters was playing with and run, giddy with power, to the top of a landing only to dash whatever was in her hand down two flights of stairs. She beamed with joy as it clattered and shattered. But, we figured just because she could do it, didn’t mean she should and eventually she understood that, even if she wanted to and it was fun, she couldn’t continue to violate her sisters’ rights as citizens of our household.

“Girls will be girls?” I don’t think so. Nor do we say things like, “She just can’t help herself.” I have heard parents of daughters so inclined say things like, “She’s just so rambunctious!” But, in my experience, most people assume girls, as a class, can control themselves better, faster, more completely, and that boys have a harder time. There are many studies that indicate the reasons why this might be true, including the fact that we teach girls to delay gratification more and also to put their needs last. But, it does not appear to be innate.

Boy #1? Yes, maybe he had impulse control issues. Maybe it would take a lot of time to teach him about self-control, like Daughter #2. Maybe it would take even longer to teach him about personal boundaries and other people’s rights. Maybe he had genuine problems with all of those things that needed to be addressed in more thorough ways than morning time social interactions.

But that boy – and many others like him – never got the benefit of the doubt. This behavior gets rewarded or not, amplified or not, sanctioned tacitly or not. Both on individual and cultural levels. To be clear: I’m not saying that there is causality between knocking down blocks in preschool and assaulting people later. I am not saying that all boys with bad manners, poor impulse control, ADHD or other behavioral issues will be rapists or abuse spouses. I’m saying the world would be a different kind of place if children were taught to respect other children’s rights from the start. Rights to be, to do, to look certain ways and not others. And that teaching children these things has profound implications for society. Anyone who has studied or worked in the field of domestic violence can tell you that the “overarching attitudinal characteristic” of abusive men is entitlement and the belief that they have rights without responsibility to or respect for others. Similar attitudes feed our steady stream of sexual assault and rape.

In general, I’m a strict non-interventionist when it comes to other people’s children, unless I am explicitly responsible for them and their safety. But, one morning, when it really became clear that Boy #1’s parents were utterly useless as people who could teach their son to be aware of others, empathetic and yes, kinder, I picked him up and moved him away from my daughter. I asked him gently if he understood the word “forever.” He said yes. Putting him down, I added that he was to stay away from my daughter and her castles for that length of time. So far, so good.

Of Coffee, Music, and Dates (CS Modern AU) One-shot.

Follower Appreciation Prompt: “ur just a random stranger and i’ve been ranting to you for like 20 minutes about how much i hate this one band but now several groups of people came up to you asking for pics and autographs, and oh shit it turns out you’re in the band i’ve been going on about” au 

Requested by @timeless-love-story. I hope you enjoy this! Please let me know what you think!

Huge thanks to @lenfaz for looking this over. 

Read at FFN   AO3

Rating: F for fluff

Word Count: ~ 1000

Of Coffee, Music, and Dates

“Is this seat taken, lass?” A heavily accented voice murmured in front of her.

Emma rolled her eyes. She really didn’t have time to deal with some guy trying to flirt with her, especially not when she had a huge British Lit final that she needed to study for. Glancing up from her copy of The Heart of Darkness, her eyes widened as she took in the owner of the voice.

His hair was dark and had that artfully disheveled look to it. A chiseled jaw line led to the most beautiful blue eyes that she’d ever seen. He was dressed simply in a pair of ripped jeans, black henley, and black chucks. A black leather motorcycle jacket completed the look, as did the eyebrow arched in her direction. She bit her lip, he was easily the hottest guy she’d ever seen.

Keep reading

Anyway

i stared at the photo for too long so I wrote this piece of whateverthefuck:

‘And-’ Poe breaks off. ‘What’s behind me?’

Finn swallows. ‘Don’t turn around.’

Poe actually pales a little. ‘It’s Jess, isn’t it?’

Finn doesn’t need to answer. A hand grasps Poe’s shoulder and turns him around.  

‘Fuck,’ Poe says.

‘Not right now, Dameron,’ Jessika says drily. The implications catch up to Finn and he flushes a bright red. ‘And only if you have a million credits. We have work to do.’

Poe turns to Finn. ‘Save me,’ he says beseechingly.

Finn gives him an incredulous look. ‘How?’ Finn might be hopelessly, ridiculously in love with Poe but that doesn’t mean he’s going to go up against a determined, resourceful pilot to save the man from a photoshoot. He’s not an idiot.

‘Anything!’

‘As charming it is to see you lose your shits over a few photos, we do need to get going,’ Jessika says, hands on her hips.

Poe appears to steel himself. ‘Fine, Pava, do your worst.’

Jessika snorts. ‘Get over yourself.’

She drags Poe by the crook of his elbow like a mother with a recalcitrant child to the stands set up on the tarmac. Finn follows them, mostly because Poe shoots him a betrayed look but also pairs it with big soulful eyes that remind Finn of a wide open field and sunlight through blue-green leaves and Poe’s smile covered with a blue tinge as he reaches out to Finn.

‘Look,’ Poe says plaintively, bringing Finn back to the present. ‘Jess, I’m pretty sure I don’t need all this powder on my face.’

‘You do,’ Snap says, from where he’s sitting behind the camera and safely out of range of Poe’s impending sulk. ‘I mean, we need to make sure that you’re dashing enough to triple the recruiting numbers. Taking no chances, here.’

Poe chokes with outrage, or maybe on powder. Jessika helpfully wallops him between his shoulder blades until he gasp out, between coughs, ‘Excuse you,’ he says, once he’s taken in more than half a breath between gasps. ‘I’ll have you know –’

‘That you’re secretly a beautiful princess?’ Jessika asks innocently. ‘Never could’ve guessed, what with the way you sing to all the droids about – ’

‘OKAY,’ Poe says loudly. Finn looks on mystified as all the pilots guffaw loudly. ‘I don’t have to listen to this, you know.’ When they continue laughing he scowls. ‘I’ll send the lot of you to maintenance, you see if I don’t.’

‘Well,’ Jessika allows, wiping away a tear with one delicate forefinger. ‘I mean, you could try. But I don’t think General Organa would go for that. Plus, it’d make Finn sad, and we all know what your reaction to anything that makes Finn sad is.’

Nien Numb makes ‘pew pew’ noises, complete with finger guns. The pilots collapse into hysterics again. Snap is making strange wheezing noises.

Poe looks at Finn, his eyes lipid. ‘Finn, buddy, would you mind getting rid of these nasty people for me? They’re hurting my feelings.’

‘Hey, no using Finn,’ Jessika protests before Finn can seriously contemplate Poe’s request. She grabs his chin, swatting away his indignantly flailing hands, and tilts her head, considering her handiwork. ‘Karé!’ she hollers over her shoulder, not relinquishing her hold on Poe’s face as the tall, blonde pilot Finn had seen sitting with Poe and others in the mess pokes her head out from behind an A-wing and comes over.

‘Needs more rugged and handsome,’ she suggests after a moment of contemplative silence. Poe immediately splutters and Finn has to bite back a smile.

Jessika makes an approving noise. ‘You’re right,’ she agrees. ‘Blood stain down the side, maybe?’

‘Maybe keep it to a bit of a smear, right here above his eyes.’

‘Yeah, true – don’t want him looking potentially concussed.’

Jessika ducks behind Finn to grab some more cases and tubes of – stuff. ‘You’re staring,’ she murmurs under her breath, her voice pitched just for Finn’s ears. He instantly feels his cheeks warm, and it has nothing to do with the stinging wind whipping around on the tarmac.

Meanwhile, Poe has turned around again. ‘Finn, buddy.’ He frowns a little with consternation. ‘You’re looking a little feverish.’

Drunk and Dumb

This is my very first Marrish drabble, so be gentle. LOL. It’s for the beautiful klarolineepiclove who wanted a drunk Lydia, and a dutiful deputy to the rescue!


Parrish is grateful to be away from the desk for the last hour of his shift. They got another noise complaint, and he volunteered to stop by on his way home. Only this time it was for a party, and not some creepy abandoned house with a goo covered werewolf hiding in its walls.

At least he hopes so.

He turns the corner and onto the street where the party is being held and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that it is, in fact, an actual party and not a trap to lure deputies to their death.

High schoolers seep out of the front door and onto the porch, stumbling and laughing while holding their red plastic cups. He can hear the music in the house and recognizes the song, although, if anyone at the station asks, he has no idea who sings Bad Blood.

He flips the lights on top of his patrol car, signalling to the students to scatter. And they do. They’re like a stampede of gazelle that were spooked by a lion. Very drunk and uncoordinated gazelle, he thinks, as he watches one of Scott’s teammates run past him in nothing but his underwear, his helmet and his lacrosse stick held high.

After the first wave of inebriated hooligans is gone, he leaps out of the car and shuffles toward the door.

“Lookin’ good, deputy,” a girl drunkenly says as she passes by. Her friend comes along side of her and puts an arm around her waist, helping her down the stairs.

“Are you sober?” Parrish asks her friend.

“Yeah, I’ll get her home.”

“No, no. Take me to his place,” the intoxicated one giggles and traipses her fingers up his arm. “I want to show this deputy that I don’t have any gag reflexes.”

“Oh my god, Tracy, shut up!” Her friend glances over at him with an apologetic grin. “Sorry.”

“Just see that she gets home safe.”

The two stumble away and Parrish shakes his head, letting out an amused snort.

He steps into the house, where the music has stopped and is relevantly empty, save for a few people passed out throughout the room. It seems this house call won’t take too much of his time since the party has ceased, along with the noise.

“Deputy Parrish!” he hears another girl holler at him, only this time he recognizes the voice.

He glances back toward the kitchen where a very intoxicated ginger stands posing with one arm on her hip and the other above her head, bracing her against the door frame.

She’s wearing a snug pair of jeans and a flowy top and her hair is in loose curls, cascading around her shoulders.

“Lydia, what are you doing here?”

“Getting drunk…duh,” she says, and takes a step toward him. “What are you doing here?”

He smiles at her, “Turns out the Sheriff’s department frowns upon loud music and underage drinking.”

“Pfffshhhhhh,” Lydia slurs, and waves her hand in the air as though she were slapping away such nonsense. “The Sheriffs -  hiccup - department frownsss upon lots of stuff.”

She stumbles forward and he barely catches her before she falls to the ground. She regains her composure, standing up straight while bracing herself against him. She laughs and glances up at him, and even with her drunken glaze she’s still breathtakingly beautiful.

“Lydia, is there anyone here with you?”

She shrugs. 

“Where are they?” he asks, looking around for any sign of the pack.

“Gone,” she sighs, but continues to stare up at him with a dreamy haze.

“They abandoned you?” he inquires, his voice filled with unbelief.

“No no no no - hiccup-,” she shakes her head wildly. “They were never here.”

“So you’re alone?”

“Not anymooooore,” she purrs and it’s hard to miss the double meaning.

He takes a step back and holds her steady with an arms length apart. “Come on,” he speaks. “I’ll take you home.”

“Oh goodie!” she claps her hands together.


The ride to Lydia’s was an adventure, to say the least, from getting her in the cop car to her inability to not touch anything on the dash. He’s pretty certain that he’s the first patrol car in the history of Mystic Falls, to blast Katy Perry out the window. The lights flash periodically, and she giggles when he flips them off only to have her flip them back on again.

“What’s this do?”

“What’s this for?”

“Lydia, please don’t touch that.”

“BABY YOU’RE A FIIIIIIIREWORK!!!”

After ten minutes of, honestly, the most entertaining ride through town, Parrish pulls up to Lydia’s house and puts the car in park.

“Okay, here we are,” he tells her.

“Hooome,” she says, and places her hands on the window.

“Do you need help getting to the door?” he genuinely asks, knowing that even a walk from the car to the house can be dangerous in this town.

She throws her head over her shoulder and smiles at him. “Orrrr we can just stay here for awhile,” she coos, and she leans forward, placing a hand on his arm. She tilts her head and glances up at him through her thick black lashes.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of it. Their relationship was an unusual one and had become something meaningful to him, as well as complex. They’ve been hanging out a lot and the more time he spent with her the more he began to see her as an equal. In intellect, maturity, fortitude. He may be the one who fought in the middle east, but the amount of shit she’d been through the past couple years, puts her at an almost higher rank than him.

“Lydia,” he says her name kindly, trying to keep his voice easy going but with a slight warning. It’s not use though, because Lydia is already making her way across the console.

Her lips press firmly against his, and he freezes. He doesn’t move a muscle. His hands stay at this side, his mouth stays closed, and his eyes are open wide. He finally takes her shoulders and pushes her gently away.

“Lydia, no,” he says firmly. “You’re drunk, and this is not right.”

He watches as the once rosy color and bright expression drains from her face and a look of horror replaces it.

“I- I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice sounding more sober than a moment ago. She opens her mouth to say something else, but decides against it. Instead, she opens the door and jumps out of the car, all but running to her house.

“Lydia!?” he tries to yell to her, but it’s no use. She’s in the door and out of sight.

Parrish throws his head back against the seat, and sighs heavily.
“Way to go Parrish,” he berates himself, feeling worse for Lydia than he did for himself. He’s sure she would agree that that was not the first kiss either of them were hoping for.

He puts the car in drive and heads home, worry beginning to set in that his once safe and wonderful friendship had now been ruined.


The day starts with a headache.

Lydia’s head is pounding, and the sunlight pouring through her curtains is only adding to the pain. She closes her eyes tightly and throws her blanket over her head, willing herself to fall back asleep.

As her now awake mind races over the past 24 hours, she recalls the party. She heard about it through the grapevine - she may be crazy Lyida Martin, but she’s still the queen bee and epic parties are rarely unknown to her.

None of her friends could go, but she wanted an escape. She wanted to feel like a normal teenager again after everything that was starting back up with her friends. She wanted to black out all the voices, and focus on herself. She wanted one night of normalcy, and unlike her Were-friends, alcohol actually still worked on her.

It was a fun night, she remembers. There were shots and dancing and conversations with long time acquaintances. The last thing she clearly remembers was sitting with some of those acquaintances out on the back porch, when suddenly the music halted and everyone scattered.

Looks like the cops are here, she remembers thinking, and with that thought Lydia’s stomach roils, her heart stops and her eyes shoot open.

Jordan.

“Oh God,” she whispers and then groans into the pillow, trying to hold back a scream. If only a Banshee cry could remove the self-loathing rising up in her.

What did she do?

How could she be so stupid?

She recalls how rigid he was when she pressed her lips to his. How he held her back and denied her advances.

Stupid, Lydia. So stupid.

Things were going so well too. So well, in fact, that she was certain that he reciprocated her feelings. But now. Now she’s made a complete ass of herself and who knows how he feels about her?

Lydia pushes the covers off of her and rises like the living dead. Her head pounds, her heart hurts and she’s only thankful that it’s Saturday and is able to spend the day hiding, wallowing and binge watching crappy TV.

With her day planned out, she shuffles out her bedroom and down to the bathroom, ready to shower and wash away the obscenities of last night.

It helps, in a way. She’s already feeling better.


Parrish sits outside her house, tapping the wheel of his truck and trying to find the courage to go to the door. She probably doesn’t want to see him.  He’s probably wasting his time and will only make things worse.

But he’s resolved to make things right, if only to tell her that there’s no reason to be embarrassed or upset. That he still cares for her and hopes they can still be friends.

He hops out of the truck, courage finally taking over, and bounds toward her front door. He readies himself to knock when the door flies open and a mass of strawberry colored curls greet him.

“I’ll be home in a little bit,” Lydia yells behind her before turning and seeing Parrish standing on her doorstep.

The same look of embarrassment and regret from last night washes over her face.

“Hi,” he says gingerly, “trying not to scare her off.”

“Hey,” she returns and then steps outside and closes the door behind her.

There’s an awkward silence after that and they search the surrounding areas with their eyes, avoiding each others’ gaze. Lydia sighs and surprisingly is the first to speak.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts.

“No. Don’t apologize,” he tells her.

“I don’t know what got into me last night.”

“Alcohol,” he teases and then shrugs.

“Right,” she responds, licking her lips and giving him a tight lipped smile. “That.”

There’s another bout of silence before he musters up the courage to say what he should have said last night.

“Lydia,” he begins and his stomach catapults to his throat when she looks up at him with those big, sad eyes. “I care about you, and I’m sorry that it happened.”

“Great,” she cuts him off. “If I wasn’t feeling horrible about it before, I certainly am now.”

“No…no,” he assures her. “That’s not what I’m saying. I just…I’m not sure…you were drunk and…” he’s rambling but her perfume and doe eyes are getting to him. He takes a deep breath, and grabs her hands, squeezing them before trying again.

“Lydia, I’m sorry that it happened the way that it did.” He finally says. “Because it should’ve happened like this.”

Before she could say another word, he moves forward, placing his hands on either side of her face and pressing his lips to hers.

He hears a muffled whimper and her lips are tense but before long she’s melting into him. Her lips are parting and her tongue is engaging with his own. Their mouths move in a syncopated and delicious rhythm, and the worries about last night seem to drift away with each passing second. 

This is the way it was supposed to be.

This is their first kiss. 

Your first Valentine's Day

Calum: “Babe? Babe are you awake? Happy Valentines Day! Babe?” you feel Calum nudging you in the early hours on February 14th. You reply with a vague grunt, trying to shift away from his bony finger poking you in the back. “Wake up, it’s Valentines Day! I need to show you how much I love you!” he persist, nuzzling closer to you and planting a small kiss on your cheek, hovering over you until you finally open your eyes reluctantly. His face breaks out with a massive grin when he sees you awake, barely able to contain his excitement. It’s very cute and endearing, but you wish he could’ve just waiting a few more hours with it. “Ok, ok, I’m up. Happy Valentines Day” you chuckle sleepily, pecking Calum’s cheek. “Get up, I have something really special planned!” he grins enthusiastically, already jumping out of bed and heading into the shower. Once you’ve finally made it out of the house, Calum drives you to his secret location, stopping the car in front of some sort of bakery. “Are we buying cake?” you ask, immediately perking up. If there is something in this world you can’t resist, it’s cake. Cupcakes, ice cream cake, chocolate, fruity….. Anything will do the trick. “Even better, we’re MAKING them!” Calum reveals with a beam. “Really?” you exclaim, to which Calum nods. You go into the bakery, where the baker is offering a special Valentines Day baking class to make red velvet cupcakes (one of your ultimate favourites). You and Calum have the best time, mixing ingredients, messing around, throwing flour at each other, sneakily eating half the batter raw….. It’s the best, most adorable way to celebrate Valentines Day, you think, and all you both do for the rest of the day is stay home, eat your cupcakes and watch movies, snuggled in each others arms.

Ashton: rays of the rising sun filter through your window, indicating it is the start of a new day. Not just any day either. Valentines Day. You love Valentines Day, the idea of a entire 24 hours dedicated purely to people showing their affection and love towards each other to you is the perfect way to spend a day. Of course, all the roses, chocolates and cheesy teddy bears don’t hurt either. You roll over, expecting to see your long term boyfriend, Ashton, lying in bed next to you. Except, he isn’t there. You bolt upright, filled with confusion and disappointment. Where has he gone off to? You listen out for noises in the kitchen or bathroom, but the house is silent. He really isn’t here. You get up, shuffling into the kitchen, just to check if he is hiding. All you find is a note on the counter. You pick it up, taking it out of it’s little pink envelope and reading it. Today we celebrate our love, it is Valentines Day, and I have only one thing to say. To hear what it is, you need to finish this quiz, follow the clues to the end where i’ll be, and a Valentines Day surprise you’ll see. It’s a scavenger hunt! you immediately realise, letting out a squeal of excitement. You quickly get dressed, then re-address the envelope. Your first clue is inserted alongside the letter. It takes you exactly 3 seconds to figure out where it wants you to go, as you jump into your car and drive to your first location. Ashton’s clues have you running all around the city and you never seem to run out of steam, a thrill constantly pumping through your system. After two whole hours, the final clue leads you to a tiny, yet beautiful park that you and Ashton love to visit, where you find your boyfriend sitting under the big oak tree, a gorgeous little picnic spread out on a red and white checkered blanket. Ashton is dressed in a red button up shirt and holding a dozen red roses, looking dashing and handsome as ever. “Oh my god, Ash!” you breathe in awe, rushing into his arms. “I can’t believe you did all this!” “I know it’s your favourite holiday and you deserve it. Happy Valentines Day, babe, I love you so much” he smiles down at you, warmth and true affection in his eyes. “Not as much as I love you.”

Luke: “Valentines Day is coming up, do you want to do anything special? Shall I book a table at a nice restaurant maybe?” Luke asks one afternoon. “Don’t bother, I don’t believe in Valentines Day” you dismiss him, not even looking up from your laptop. “What do you mean you don’t believe in it? What’s wrong with Valentines Day?” he asks, no doubt giving you puppy dog eyes from across the room. “It’s stupid. Just holiday made up by card companies to sell their shit. I don’t need some special day in the year telling me when I should tell my significant other that I like them” you retort. “Do you NOT like your significant other?” Luke asks, a note of panic in his voice that makes you finally look up at him. “Of course I do, Lukey. I just don’t do Valentines Day, that’s all” you sigh. “Okay then, less stress for me” he shrugs, going back to his phone. Your eyes linger on him for a while longer before returning to your laptop screen. The truth is you actually don’t mind Valentines Day at all, you just don’t know whether you’re comfortable enough in your relationship to do anything big and grand yet. You and Luke have only recently started dating, and even though you feel very deeply for him, you don’t want to put any pressure on him or freak him out. You told your best friend about this, who called you an idiot and advised you to just have fun, but your way is better, you decide. It always is. When Valentines Day finally comes around, it is torture. Watching all your friends swoon about their great gifts and romantic gestures given to them by their boyfriends whilst you are going empty handed kinda stings. You come home from school, ready to pig out on your favourite ice cream that you pre-bought in honour of tonight. You unlock your door just to find it’s already unlocked. Your heart races as your mind automatically assumes the worst. You grab an umbrella from the hallway, cautiously proceeding into the living room. Everything is dark and quiet. You can hear your rapid, shallow breathing and then, the light goes on and Luke jumps up from the couch yelling “SURPRISE!” You almost die there and then, your heart feeling as if it’ll never recover from this shock. “Luke! What the hell are you doing here?” you gasp, steadying yourself by leaning against the wall. “I talked to (y/f/n). I know alllll about your little lies. You luurrveee yourself some Valentines Day, don’t you?” he ask, wiggling his eyebrows and making stupid faces making you crack a light laugh. You are really embarrassed by this and curse your friend in your head silently. “Don’t look so panicked, babe! It’s fine! You could’ve just told me and I would’ve understood. If you want a chilled evening without all the uber-romantic stuff, we can do that! I got some movies, a bunch of candy and even a scented candle! We can have a cosy night in and eat our body weight in sugar!” Luke says, caressing your face with his hand, a smirk playing on his lips. “Really?” you ask. “Really. Happy not-too-seriously-taken Valentines Day” Luke smiles.

Michael: you love Michael Clifford. It’s a fact. He knows it, you know it, pretty much anyone who has ever met you knows it. Naturally, you’d assume that Valentines Day would be a fantastic time for you, seeing as you are in a committed relationship with a guy you care for more than anything else. Well, that assumption is wrong. Not that you don’t like Valentines Day, but Michael Clifford isn’t exactly what you’d call a romantic. Most romantic cues go over his head like sarcasm used on a five year old. It’s pointless. You could drag him to a fancy restaurant or the movies or something, but you’d just end up regretting it because Michael would TRY and suck it up for you but you would just feel guilty about forcing him into it. So this year, you set your expectations of Valentines Day accordingly low, expecting it to be like very other day as well. You do get a text message from Michael in the morning of the 14th, wishing you a happy Valentines Day and saying that he is sorry he can’t spend the day with you, but he is just too busy with the album and stuff. Figures. You proceed with your day, trying to cram the bitterness and disappointment of being the only lonely but not single person on the planet deep down and away. It’s just one stupid day, you remind yourself, trying to make yourself feel better. However, with all he stupid loved-up, happy bastards around you, parading around their expensive perfumes and jewellery from their loved ones around just feels rude. You end the day the way you started it, with pizza. It takes longer than usual to be delivered, but the door bell finally rings and you pay the delivery guy, taking your pizza box back into the living room to consume whilst watching the newest Pretty Little Liars episode. As you open the box, you are surprised to find it cut in a heart shape. Cute. Then, you notice writing on the top half of the box. “Look outside your door”. You get up, checking the door once again. On the mat is a box of four, heart shaped cupcakes with a note attached to them. They are from your favourite bakery, a really expensive, french one that is on the other side of town. Sorry I couldn’t be there tonight. Still love you though. Sorry if you had a crappy V-day, you know i’m not so good at being cheesy. Ha, get it? Cheesy? Because of the pizza? I promise i’ll make it up some other way (bow chicka wow wow f ya get what i’m sayin) ;) It isn’t a massive gesture of any sort, but it really touches you to see Michael make such an effort with a day you know he feels uncomfortable with. This is better than anything you could’ve gotten from a “romantic” boyfriend, because it is personal and it’s…. It’s just so Michael. It’s perfect.