melt in a puddle of love

what can i say? I like my katsudon spicy…

(my vision of next season, during which Vitya has been teasing Yuuri endlessly about who will be kissing whose medal after the finals, and of course, whenever Yuuri gets sassy and gives as good as he gets – Victor melts into a smitten, supportive puddle).

*Russian – Yuuri: “Vitya”. Victor: lyubimii - “My love”.

I love the ships when
  • Person A: is a total badass. Doesn't need no one. Kicks ass and takes names.
  • Person B: *touches person A*
  • Person A: *melts into a puddle
The Signs and Love:

Aries: You love closely and warmly. Everything you love is forcibly wrapped in tin foil with the power of your will alone.

Taurus: You are a nervous lover. As in, you are a lover who has a nervous system, you know synapses and all that.

Gemini: You have a heart of gold and a face of gallium. Your face melts at room temperature into a glistening silvery puddle. 

Cancer: It can be difficult to make you smile, but when you do its gorgeous. Consider not sewing your lips shut every morning.

Leo: A bold and passionate lover. Just make sure that what you’re hitting on is in fact alive. 

Virgo: A dangerous lover. A lover on the edge. Someone who can only feel affection while on an adrenaline high, like when skydiving. 

Libra: When it comes to love you think too much. If they said they like you, they probably like you.

Scorpio: Tsundere.

Ophiuchus: A clever lover. While you may think you have a good solution for every problem, too many of them involve systems of pulleys. Its freaking your significant other out. 

Sagittarius: You are a true and loyal lover. Treachery is met with a swift death.

Capricorn: You love like steel toes. Thrilling, dramatic, and often a source of testicular pain.

Aquarius: An elegant lover, all fall before your mere voice. Thats when you tie their shoes together and steal their wallets. 

Pisces: A cute lover. Adorable really. Ignore the hunting knife.

Silly Daddy: Waking up

*Woke up first*

Me: *playing games on phone*

Daddy: *makes rustle noises and a small groan*

Me: *stops what I’m doing and waits*

Daddy: *sleepy voice* Baby

Me: Good morning Daddy! How’d you sleep?

Daddy: *yawns* Fine, how’s my little girl?

Me: *giggles* I’m good how are you?

Daddy: I’m fine, I love you

Me: Awe! I love you too Daddy!

Daddy: *very sleepy voice* You’re the most perfect, amazing, and beautiful girl in the world. I’m so lucky to have you.

Me: *squeals and melts into a shy puddle* AWE! I love you so much Daddy! You’re my Prince Charming!

Daddy: *stretches* I love you too kitten. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.

Me: *wiggles* I’m the luckiest girl in the world to call you my own!

Daddy: *makes sleepy noise* Cutie

Me: *makes sleepy noise back* NU! That’s you!

Bygones of the Sun | 04 (M)

Originally posted by hobismole

Genre: Angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

Pairing: Reader x Hoseok

Length: 4.8k

Summary: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05

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What it would be like to date Shin Hoseok/ Wonho:

Originally posted by lostinmonstax

  • shy smiles whenever you look at him, there is nothing more precious than his shy smile.
  • he flexes his muscles at you, but you call him cute… he melts into a wonho shaped puddle on the floor.
  • the amount of bunny teddies that are around his room makes you wonder if he loves them more than you
  • you never ask for a jumper, he gives you them.

“I always make sure that I buy more than I need when it comes to jumpers, because I know you would steal them”

“but then they wont smell like you”

“Oh, I sleep in them when I buy them and then hide them for you to think that you found them”

“oh, smart”

  • He toys with your fingers when your sat together. Your legs over his lap with your body turned towards his. he’ll lace his fingers in yours and just play with them.
  • hes cringey cute.

“Baby? Have I told you how beautiful you are to me?”

“yeah, at least four or fi-”

“you’re beautiful”

“Six, six times”

  • he likes to work out, when he’s at home with you. But… Depends if you do or not, you’ll help him. either clinging to his back like a koala while he does push ups.
  • you take secret candid  photos of him when he’s laughing. His laugh, a the way he laughs is like watching butterflies fly.
  • You save every single one of his selfies.
  • You sometimes read his fanfiction, while trying to keep a straight face but you can’t. it’s too much and he sits across from you with a werid look on his face.

It’s about to get NSFW:

  • he’s sweet, tentitve to you.
  • but, hot and passionate at the same time
  • surprise Saturdays, maybe freaky Fridays; you know, to keep it interesting.
  • he teases you, leaning into kiss you. slightly brushing his lips against yours, but pulls away to do something else
  • you love how dirty minded he can get when alone


  • You don’t keep pyjamas at his place, you just wear his clothes
  • he plays with your hair
  • he souts NEOYA around the flat because NEOYA
  • you love seeing his bed head on a morning, with his sleep puffy face.
  • whenever your near something with heights, you hold his hand and his grip is deathly.
  • He does cry easily, but to you, it’s sweet. He’s passionate with his emotions.
  • He talks with his emotions, he doesn’t hide them very well and this for you, is easier to be able to decipher him
  • he sulks
  • WONHO AND SWEATER PAWS
  • he sings in the shower, but its off key
  • his singing is more sweet when hes bein cute, it’s soft and barely audible
  • he’s the type who will do anything you want, mainly because he want to do it too
  • you like seeing wonho after he practices or works out because he’s sweaty.
  • he texts you every night before he sleeps. Not the cringey type where he says “I love you baby” with a thousand heart emojis. It’ll be something endearing like, “ I love you, you little nerd” with one heart emoji or something
  • he’s protective, but not overly. He doesn’t mind if you rough house with boys but as soon as he hears you whine with a pain, he’s by your side in an instant babying you
  • he isn’t possessive, he gets a little jealous sometimes; but he trusts you.
  • random compliments for dayss
  • he does the heavy lifting after you have tried and struggled a few times, you know, before you admit defeat.
  • he phones his parents everyday, hour long conversations where you do weird stuff to make him laugh.
  • the man just always smells nice??? he could be sweating profusely and still smell like an angel that wiped their ass on cotton candy
  • hug from behind, his muscular arms enciricling you into a warm embrace.
  • after a long day, he would fall asleep on you. Head on your chest and his arms around your waist.
  • when just chilling together, he lays with his head on your lap.
  • you find it hilarious when he gets cocky or over confident
  • though his confidence does actually give you quite the heart-boner
  • instead of you being the one wanting to adopt, like, a thousand doggos (you do) but he’s the one that never stops talking about it.
  • you join in on his activities, you can do them so why not
  • when crossing the street, he subconsciously grabs your hand.
  • skinship is strong with this one.

you should watch this tho  ( WONHO LAUGHING FOR FIVE MINUTES )

we may be hollow, but we’re brave

Summary: Even had insisted they spend the night before their wedding apart, because he’s dramatic as fuck, but he ends up calling Isak anyway. Isak doesn’t even try to hide how endeared he is.

Words: 1,248

Isak groans as he adjusts the pillow under his head for the thirtieth time that night. It’s the first time in weeks he’s had to fall asleep without Even, and it’s fucking with him bad. Once upon a time, he thought he’d outgrow this urgent need to have Even next to him, touching him, just being with him always. But after a year together, he feels the exact same desperate ache for Even as he had when they first met—when real love, the kind that comes naturally with Even, still felt like a fleeting fantasy. He’s more or less accepted that forever is in his grasp now, but being without him when Isak could so easily drive over to Even’s parents’ place and crawl into his bed, still feels like the worst kind of self-inflicted torture.

He’d whined to Jonas about it for a good two hours earlier, until Jonas had threatened to hand over best man duties to Magnus instead. Isak had been scared enough to shut the fuck up, but not he’d just pouted silently instead. “I can’t wait until Even marries you, this whole engagement has brought out the clingiest, sappiest parts of both of you,” Jonas had complained.

“Do you really think that it’ll get better after we get married?”

Jonas considered this for a moment, before burying his head in his hands. “Fuck, it’ll be even worse.”

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The Painting

Hi babes!💘 this is a smutty oneshot about the reader ignoring Tom when she gets an idea for a new painting, and Tom only wanting to gain her attention more! A small argument and sexy time ensues! I hope that you guys like it!👼🏻

The Painting

When Tom had come home, he’d found her with her hair tossed messily into a bun, stains of color smeared across her skin, and standing in front of a rather large canvas dressed in an imbrued art smock. The smock in which his girlfriend sported was backless, and Tom was delighted to find that she was wearing nothing but a pair of sheer, pink panties and bobby socks beneath it. He not only had a clear view of her legs, but her bum as well, and there was absolutely no way Tom thought that he would be complaining about anything when she was in such a state, but, there he was, complaining.
“Baby,” Tom whined, flopping into the nearest chair to her, “pay attention to me. I’ve spent my entire day missing you and now you’re barely even speaking to me.”
She sighed, scrunching up her nose and pursing her lips, scrutinizing the piece of art in front of her. Crossing the room to mix together a concoction of red, pink, silver and white paint to create the perfect rosy tint, she answered Tom. “You know that I’m not trying to ignore you, I love you. It’s just that I think I may finally be breaking through the weird mental block I’ve had for a while.”
Tom nodded, understanding that she supported his artistic expressions, so he would have to buck up and support hers. It wasn’t as if he was unhappy with her painting, in fact, he was the exact opposite. He was thrilled to see her final product, and he loved seeing the spark of imagination light up her eyes, but as Tom said before, he missed her so much. Their time together had always been limited and he was jealous that her painting was receiving more attention than he was, considering that she could spend a million and one hours with her painting at her leisure, but she had maybe 90 something hours with him .
She plopped down into Tom’s lap and kissed him on the cheek, “you can mix the paints if you wanna.”
Tom held the spatula that his girlfriend had handed over to him, and did his best to focus on following her directions, while defying the feeling of his girlfriend in basically squirming around on his lap while she glided her soft, warm lips up and down the base of his throat in between her orders.
“Can I see what you’ve done so far?” Tom asked, curious as to what she was even painting.
Her kisses paused briefly, and then started up again between the words she said, “No! You can only see once I’m finished. I want it to be a surprise.”
Tom groaned, “is this good?” he motioned the colors he’d mixed. When she nodded, she made sure to turn her head to press a heavy, hot kiss to Tom’s lips before she hopped off of him. Sliding a hand down his face, Tom got up to leave the room. If he’d stayed there any longer, the images of her bending over in next to nothing would make him too hard to bare, so he decided that while she painted, he would busy himself with whatever nonsense that he came into contact with.
It had been a day and a half since her art project began, and since then, Tom had learned how assemble both a dresser and a cabinet, fixed every leaky faucet and broken appliance in her apartment, and had perfected a few random recipes he’d stumbled across on the internet. He was going out of his mind.
As time went on, she became even more and more appetizing to him. She was passionate and focused and Tom was, at that point, hard. No matter how many hot showers, cold showers, or even baths he’d taken, it wasn’t enough for him. Tom felt that if he didn’t have the real her soon, he’d burst into flames or melt into a puddle of sticky goo that would stain her carpet.
A few hours later, he heard the pitter patter of her socked feet rushing to meet him in the bedroom. Laying across her bed, Tom rolled over onto his side and peered at her smiling face when she entered the room.
“Tom, I need you.” She said, a blissful expression warming her features.
He quirked a brow at her, “oh yeah? What for, my darling, little love?” He looked her up and down, taking in the paint soils splashed all over her body, the exposed skin of her legs, her lack of bra, and hoped her response would indicate that she needed him to take her.
She rushed forward and knelt down by his bedside, taking his hand in hers, “help me with the painting, I’m just about finished.” She kissed his knuckles and laid her head onto her mattress.
“I thought that I wasn’t allowed to see it until it was all done?” Tom said confusedly.
“I know what I said, but I’ve changed my mind. The painting needs your special touch!” As she got up off the floor, still holding his hand, Tom could think of more than a few things that could use his special touch.
When she finally brought him to a stop in front of her painting, Tom understood why she hasn’t allowed him near it. He could tell that the figures trapped within her canvas were lovers, even though they appeared to be more similar to florets than people. All the colors were soft and romantic, and he could see that she had added a tinge of shimmer to particular images, so the painting looked mystical and otherworldly. Truth be told, if he’d gotten anywhere close to it earlier in the day, he would’ve messed it up.
“Darling,” Tom breathed out, desperately trying to figure out how to express the level of his admiration to her, “I just don’t know how you manage to be so fucking magical all the time. It’s beautiful, I love it, but I’m afraid that me just standing this close to it will ruin it. Unless you need me to lift it, I don’t know how to help you.” Tom bent down and kissed her gently on the forehead, moving to tuck some of her untamed fringe back behind her ear, where he couldn’t help himself but press a kiss to her earlobe as well.
Tugging his mouth back down onto hers, she mumbled in between long kisses, “help me just fill in a few spots, then it’s yours. I read somewhere that if someone helps you complete a task, the task, or in this case, the painting, will make that person think of you.” She broke away from Tom for a brief moment, and Tom heard her airly whisper into the crook of his neck, “I wanna make you think of me.”
Tom’s eyes opened and he guided her body away from his, “what are you talking about?” He was so genuinely puzzled that his confusion took the place of his desire to have her until the sun came up. “I always think of you. Literally, always. Ask anyone I work with, I never shut up about you.”
“Okay,” she said, disbelief laced firmly into her tone. Grabbing a paintbrush, she leaned into Tom to kiss him again.
“No, no, baby. Honestly, do you not believe me?” Tom was growing so perplexed that he was starting to get angry. “I love you, do I not tell you enough or something?” He knew that he was being abrasive and slightly over sensitive, but he didn’t know why she was playing as if Tom didn’t care for her.
Groaning, she walked out of Tom’s reach and back to where she stored her varying paints. “Tom, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“Uhm, nope. I’m going to worry about this because I’m pretty sure that this is something most couples in a healthy relationship would speak about.” Tom said, moving to stand in front of her.
“Let’s not do this,” she said, pushing her art smock’s strap back up to it’s proper place on her shoulder.
“No, no, let’s!” Tom declared.
“Tom, no! There is literally no point to this argument, if you don’t want to help, it’s cool.” She stood onto her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to the corner of Tom’s unprepared lips. “See? It’s all good,” she said, going around Tom and back to her mostly filled in canvas.
“Please, can you just talk to me, darling?” Tom wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her body to him as tightly as he could without crushing her. “I love you and what’s important to you is what’s important to me. So please, please clue me in.”
The girl didn’t even need to turn around to feel his puppy dog eyes burning a hole into her back. “Fine,” she said shortly, “when ‘Homecoming’ drops, you’re going to be huge, bigger than you already are. Like you’ve said before, life is going to change and nobody can say for sure what will and will not change, only that there will be changes, and if life makes you go away, at least you’ll have this painting. At least I’ll be remembered as the girl who painted you the weirdly rosy painting.”
Tom was so stunned that he couldn’t think of one appropriate thing to say. “Are you serious? Sounds like you’re pretty sure you know what’s going to happen with us, huh, smart girl?” He knew that getting mad wasn’t going to help the situation, but his feelings were hurt that she thought he’d drop her just like that.
Removing his hands from her body, Tom turned, “fuck it, that is so irritating. I am not leaving you, and unless you plan on ditching me, I think that we’re going to be together for more than a long while, darling.” He sneered, pacing back and forth across the limited space her living room provided. “This is ridiculous, you’re so intelligent, so why you’ve gotten that into your head, I have no idea. I’ve made sure to factor you into nearly all aspects of literally everything I do, now why do you think that is?”
She knew that she was being dumb, but she couldn’t help it. She was so paranoid that Tom would be out one day and he would come across someone shiny and new, and then he’d realize that being with her was not what he wanted anymore. When she started her painting, her only goal had been to give Tom something that would leave an imprint of her in his mind, so that no matter what happened with them in the future, she would still be apart of him.
Her eyes grew glassy and tears threatened to boil over her waterline and smudge her mascara. She was mad at herself for being so insecure, and for possibly ruining her relationship with the one thing she’d meant to sort of bandage over her issues, and she couldn’t come up with a statement to justify herself to Tom.
Tom looked over to her figure, standing in front of the pink canvas, frilled bobby socks and lacy blue panties in all. Even though he was both pissed off and taken aback by her behavior, Tom couldn’t deny the urge to just slam himself into and make her understand she was the only person on the planet for him. Muttering, “oh, for fucks sake,” Tom marched purposefully over to her and smashed his lips roughly down onto hers.
Yanking her hair out of it’s rubber confinement, he broke away from her to watch it tumble down in waves to frame her face. Forcing her to look into his eyes by pressing a finger beneath her chin, Tom practically growled, “I am not going anywhere without you in my life. It’s like they say on that one soap opera that never seems to end, you’re my person. Couldn’t leave you to save my life, I’d come back to you forever.” He looked into her eyes, trying to find better words to make her understand that he was completely and utterly dead serious. “Get it?”
Her lips were puffy and her skin was still soft, despite being nearly every color of the rainbow and Tom was going to rip that smock off her body if it was the last thing he did. He could tell that she was humiliated that she let her paranoia get the best of her, and Tom, for a brief thought thought that she deserved it for thinking so lowly of their relationship. He only stopped once he took into account that if the roles were reversed, he’d be a snivelling mess of a human being because she was an angel among humans. He didn’t deserve her, but then again, surely no one else did either.
Tom’s grip on her calmed and he lovingly pried the paintbrush out of her hand and shuffled her around in his arms so that she too faced her masterpiece. “We’re going to paint this together,” Tom said, as his hands began softly untying the knot of her smock. “I’m going to continue thinking of you always and forever, even though you’re still going to be my girl and I’ll still be undeniably yours. Got it?”
Her eyes fell shut and she gasped when she felt Tom’s mouth press adoringly wet kisses to her exposed shoulders. She arched her back as one of Tom’s hands moved to the front of her body to knead her breasts. Blinking her eyes open, she saw that Tom’s other hand was still clutching the paintbrush and that he was currently dipping its tip into a circle of paint. “Answer me,” Tom ordered, sinking his teeth into her skin.
“Got it, got it, got it,” she rambled out dreamily. “Gonna be your girl forever.”
Maneuvering her slightly so that his view of the canvas would be clearer, Tom began to paint the little empty spaces she’d left for him with long brushstrokes. “That’s right sweetheart, my girl forever.” Switching hands, Tom held her to him with the hand that was also holding the paintbrush, and yanked the closest chair in arm’s reach over to where they stood. Sitting down, Tom guided her around to face him before pulling her onto his lap.
Her cheeks were rosy from a mix of blush and paint and her lips were parted and her chest was heaving. Her gaze flicked up and down Tom’s body so obviously that he had to smirk. Forcing her closer, Tom brought his hips closer to hers and watched as she subconsciously leaned into him, bracing her hands on his chest.
She shuffled a bit further onto his lap, so that she was aligned perfectly with the bulge in his jeans. Letting out a gasp, her hips bucked against him and she bit down on her lip to prevent another louder gasp from escaping.
Tom’s arms constricted themselves around her, one went around her waist and the other tangled itself into her hair. “I think the painting is finished.”
Not even turning to look, she nodded, breathing out a response so faint that Tom couldn’t even make it out. She slid a hand under Tom’s shirt to trace over the lines of defined muscle on his stomach. “I’m really sorry about earlier. I don’t know why my head makes me think things like that.”
Tom kissed her tenderly on both cheeks before placing an even softer kiss to her mouth, “it’s alright, darling. I don’t know why I got so mad before. I honestly don’t know how my head would make me think if our roles were reversed.”
“I’ll love you forever,” she said, rolling her hips onto Tom’s lap.
“I’ll love you for some time after that,” Tom chuckled, his hips beginning to meet hers. “But don’t take my word for it,” Tom began to litter kisses up and down her throat while he reached up to untie her smock, “let me show you how fucking much I love you.”
“Okay,” she said, her lips covering Tom’s as his hands tore the art smock from her body. Their hips collided as their clothes became one with her floor, and the rosy painting in front of them was to be hung and framed in the apartment that they came to share.

anonymous asked:

I imagine that Gaston actually had some really fucked up experiences from the war. And maybe when he finally finds someone he is able to open up about how joining the war actually really messed him up and made him violent and aggressive.

TBQH, this is one of my headcanons too and like. How dare you make me feel this way right now i feel attacked.

Originally posted by luuuuuke-evans

  • Coming back from the War probably left parts of his personality and some segments of his emotions raw and torn down. While serving, he used opportunities of violence and women to help that.
  • But now, certain situations leave him defenseless, emotions seem to far out of hand at times so he created the perfect persona to show others so he doesn’t have to come to terms with what happened while he was fighting.
      • Something leaves him so out of focus, and he acts out in emotional and physical ways to fill a hole that was left behind. Narcissism and women are his usual ways.
        • Of course, he was full of himself before hand but not as badly. It was typical for men to be cocky, but after returning from the War, it seemed to escalate so he could fill in the need for his emotional and physical wants that were left unfulfilled.
          • Because of this, he’s found it hard to connect with someone and so he tends to use women as an outlet. He’s aware of what he does, of course, because there’s always going to be a part of him that wants to settle down with a small family. His own wife and children. A simple life.
             
  • After meeting you, he starts heavily contemplating whether he wants to tell you or if he just wants things to be left as they are.
    • It’s just a matter about opening up and letting you know who he really is. Gaston, for probably the second time in his life, is fearful of what the outcome of a situation holds from him. Because now that he’s developed feelings for you, he’s afraid that if he tells you who he truly is, you’re going to leave.
    • It’s a constant battle inside of his mind. One part wants to leave things as are because it would be the easiest but the other part of him wants to tell you because he finally realized that letting you in has helped him feel normal and grounded again. It makes him feel like he’s at war again, only with himself.
      • It’s sort of interesting because he refuses to admit that he’s truly and severely in love with you and he keeps playing it off and keeps telling himself that it’s just the sex. (Like, wow typical Gaston).
        • But after seeing you for over three months, and in a rather consistent way, it finally dawns upon himself that he does love you or at the very least, he cares for you. After all, the longest he had ever spent with the same woman before had only lasted two weeks, maybe even less if he really focused on it.
  • The dude probably just balls up and tells you straight out what happened, totally expecting the worst response from you as a result. Gaston hangs his head, almost ready to say, “If you want to leave me, now would be the best time. I don’t deserve you. I never have and I never will.”
    • Literally looks like someone kicked him in the face, he’s about to cry?
      • Brushing back some of the stray hairs in his face, he glances up at you and catches your gaze. You allow him no opportunity to speak and you say, “The War left all of us a little different…” Licking his bottom lip, he nods in agreement, “I’m not going to stop loving you because you think you don’t deserve it, Gaston… I saw under the facade, and fell in love with you. I’m not going to leave you…”
  • Gaston in love, okay? Just like, melts my heart.
    •  Binch, him like so devoted to you that he buys you flowers just because(not because he wants you to owe him something).
      • Gaston like, picking you up bridal style because there’s a really big puddle and he doesn’t want your feet to get wet so he carries you across it.
      • Gaston letting you braid his hair in private while the two of you watch the sun set. Bonus points if you tangle flowers into his hair.
      • Lends you his jacket if it’s chilly outside and you didn’t bring one of yourself. 
      • Him taking you on his horse to see the countryside. Just the two of you. You don’t even need to be talking. Silence and being alone with you is enough.
      • Going from the transition of sex to the swing of just enjoying one another’s company. Cuddles, just kissing, talking to one another in privacy. 
      • He probably sings to you. Not the showy off kind of singing, but the beautiful ‘I adore you’ sort of singing. Usually in the morning time. His voice husky, his body still half asleep. Usually a little tune he can remember from childhood. He tucks your hair back, kisses your forehead and the two of you just lay like that until you’re actually ready to get up.
      • Him talking to you about getting married and having children of your own. Tells you like, in a really detailed way as if he had been planning it since childhood. How many kids he wants, how he wants to live somewhere peaceful with you and them. 

i have a lot more headcanons but i needed to stop myself LOL. Thanks for reading! Reblogs and likes are appreciated!

Self Love Spell

Made for this anonymous requester. [You can watch it here]

What you will need:

  • Paper and pen
    • Colour is unimportant, but I use black on black when I can.
  • Flame

What to do:

  1. Set up your flame. I use a candle. Please be smart if you choose to use this spell. Obviously, only in a well-ventilated area (outside is ideal), watch your hair, don’t overdo it. Things catch fire faster than you think they will. 
  2. Write all the things you’re insecure about on a piece of paper. It’s okay to repeat yourself. If someone/something is bothering you, you can name them/it on the flame too. [This does not make it a curse. This spell is not a curse, it’s a spell to remove something’s power to hurt you.]
  3. Burn it. Watch the smoke rise as the paper disintegrates into nothing. Imagine all the bad, negative things you wrote just melting away, like wax on a candle, or burning up, like wood in a fire place, until it’s nothing but a pile of ash and a puddle of black goop.
  4. On another piece of paper, write at least 10 things you like about yourself. Put it somewhere you’ll see it often. On a mirror, in your planner, etc. Remember this spell whenever you see it, and think about how your insecurities can no longer hurt you. 

Vincent Phantomhive is one, if not the best, character in kuroshitsuji, “dorky Vincent” sometimes just makes me want to squeeze him so tight and protect the shit out of him

and yet here we have another side of this baby, “the Queen’s Watchdog”

well… the second one is pretty intimidating if not for

this one is free to interpretations… I guess.

but can we talk about how caring Vincent is? When he’s with Rachel or Ciel he literally melts into a puddle of joy and pride, he’s so proud of his little family and will do anything to protect it, even if “anything” means wearing a pretty apron (stolen from a servant?) to cook something nice with little Ciel for his wife, who isn’t feeling well

there are so many things to say about Vincent and I’m so in love with him that I just hope we’ll have more flashbacks of him and Rachel in the future

Also, they were such a cute couple, literally meant to be:

Tell You Later

Warnings: lots of nsfw, cursing, will give u tom feels

Summary: you and thomas have been best friends with benefits for almost a year now, however he want’s it to be more and can’t find the moment to tell you that.  My first smut so bear 🐻 with me.  ft. slightly sub!tom

concept by Lili (@osterfieldz) story by Zara (@tomsleftbrow)

word count:  2358

key: the first part is toms perspective, flashback,  __________ denotes perspective change

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Scars, lovers and a bath - Bruce Wayne x Reader

#1 counting each other’s freckles/beauty marks/scars/etc, #17 calling each other by a pet name and #19 taking a bath together. 

Well look at that, two post in the span of a few hours, I felt inspired today…Starting with Bruce, might do Logan later. So I mixed all the prompts together, and here’s the result, warning slightly NSFW and also language yow, I really hope you like it… :

(My masterlist blog here : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com)

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You lived for those alone time with your Bruce. It happened so rarely…

Actually, you couldn’t even remember when was the last time you had a bath with him. It must have been at least over three years ago. You had a lot of showers together, every morning in fact…but a relaxing bath ? Didn’t happen in years.

Bruce was caressing your arms ups and down lovingly, and was just enjoying the moment, humming lowly a song you didn’t recognize. 

You grabbed one of his hand and traced a soft line from the tip of his fingers to his bicep, where you laid your palm. His arm was so big and muscular that your hand couldn’t even wrap itself around it.

-Twelve.

You took him away from his daydreaming with your word. Raising your head so you could see his face, he just couldn’t help but smile at you.

-What was that sweetheart ?

-Twelve. You have twelve scars on this arm.

You let go of it, putting his right arm back in the water, and then took his left one in your hands. Both your tiny hands could barely wrap around it…You ran a finger on it tenderly, counting his scars.

-One…two…three…oh this one is huge…five….

He shivered under your touch, and you smiled some more. Oh the effect you had on him. He pressed his lips to your neck lightly, his free hand on your thigh.

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Moon of Fire Part ii (Sastiel Sequel)

Thank you so much to everyone who showed their love for the first of part of Moon of Fire! Special mention to @thebookdiviner for her amazing, beautiful, gorgeous aesthetics edit for part i as well!

If you haven’t read A Court of Fire and Dreams:
Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV and Part V.

Moon of Fire:
Part i, Part ii, Part iii, Part iv, Part v

*****

“Bring her back,” Kastiel had shouted, clawing at the floorboards in the House of Mist. “Bring her back!”
“She’s gone, Kastiel,” Amren said, pulling him to his feet.
Kastiel shook his head. “How do you know? How do you know where she went, if she’s alright, if she’s made it? How do you know?”
Amren’s mouth was about to open, about to make a sound, before Kastiel was yanked from his dream.
He was sweaty, despite the open windows that let the cool breeze of the night in. He wished the dream hadn’t ended so abruptly, so he could hear Amren’s steady voice, explaining to him everything so vividly, so clearly, as if to say how could you ever doubt me, Kastiel?
Now, he lay awake in the bed he’d shared with Seraphine.
It was cold and empty—just as he was.
Though he couldn’t shake that feeling, that undeniable dread at the thought of Seraphine gone from him. Somewhere he couldn’t go.
I came alive when I met you she had said to him.
Yet she still left.
And he didn’t come with her.
The shadows rippled in the corner of his eye. Anyone who wouldn’t have known what to look for could have easily mistaken it for nothing. Though Kastiel knew better.
“Father asked you to spy on me again?” he said into the shadows.
“Not quite,” Azriel said, appearing at the foot of his bed. “I’m just here to check on you.”
Kastiel turned those words over and over in his head. He couldn’t understand what exactly he was feeling—couldn’t even put it into words. But he was certain on one thing—he shouldn’t have let Seraphine’s fingers slip from his hands. He shouldn’t have let her go through the portal alone, without him, without telling her how he felt. Letting Seraphine go was the biggest mistake of his life.
“I’m going to get her back. I’m going to tell her.”
He met his uncle’s eyes and shifted to the side of the bed to make room.
Azriel laid down next to him and together, they comforted each other in their silence.

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