my face looks like a foot

steph-oliveira  asked:

Hi honey!! 💗 Can you please do the prompt 72 with Cody Christian? Thank you very much ❤

72. “Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now.”

I stood at the foot of the bed, folding the laundry, and cleaning up the house just a bit before Cody arrived home after a long weekend away. 

I was lonely and sad, and I know Cody was probably just as lonely. It was difficult to be away from each other.

The car door closed and I sprinted for the door, preparing to hold Cody in my arms for a brief moment.

As Cody walked in, his face drooped a bit, his eyes looked black, and he looked like he’d been drinking maybe. It was four in the afternoon and this was unlike him.

“Hey baby.” I finally spoke 

“Hi.” he said unenthusiastically 

I sighed and walked back up the stairs to finish my task.

“Y/N come back please.” Cody said and settled on the couch

“Why should I come back?! You kinda just shrugged me off.” I snapped

“Okay then just smile.” he said

“What?” I said

“Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now.” Cody said

I waked back down, sitting on his lap, and holding him a second.

“Okay, I got a joke then.” I said 

“Tell me babe.” Cody said 

“Why did the stadium get hot after the game?” I asked

“I don’t know babe, why?” he asked

“Because all of the fans left.” I laughed and showed my signature smile as Cody’s emeralds locked with my eyes

“There we go that is exactly what I needed baby.” Cody said and kissed me


*I apologize you waited so long Steph,I appreciate all your love and support. and hope you enjoy this 💕

One of my favorite things about overwatch as a whole is how much of their energy went into the character animation. Every single one of them has mannerisms that are all unique even down to their “Hello!” hand-waves. Seriously, there’s a difference between Soldier’s slow and minimal open-palmed wave and Ana’s salute, between Sombra’s curly-fingered long nailed wave and Reaper’s wave seeming more like he’s trying to grab something, between Bastion’s choppy finger-wave and the repair module waving in sentry mode and Genji’s short bow with a distinctive hand motion. It’s all completely unique to each character to express something about their personalities even with the same general motion.

This isn’t even the half of it. Compare EVERY SINGLE CHARACTER’S seated emote for example. Even if characters are in the same pose, like McCree and Bastion and Lucio? The way they ENTER those poses is completely different. McCree holsters his gun and sets his hand on the ground before seating. Bastion spreads their legs a bit, balances with their arms, and then PLOMPS onto the dirt unceremoniously. Lucio fuckin BREAKDANCES into his seat, how extra can you get, what a show-off, I love him.

And the guys who take a knee instead of sitting down??? Also completely different. Pharah does a little flourish with her weapon before kneeling. Soldier just sweeps into it, all no-nonsense and efficient. Ana sweeps her cloak behind her first and gently eases into the kneel. Reinhardt fuckin hefts his hammer murder-side down and kneels like a knight, gazing slightly upwards to some imaginary monarch he’s in the service of. Zarya clonks her whole gun on the ground and kneels beside it, and it really starts to make sense just how BIG and HEAVY that thing is when you see it beside her like that.

The meditators? Fuckin. Nothing is safe from the character quirks and differences. Genji makes some kind of hand pose on one foot and balances into meditation, keeping his hand near his face. Zenyatta hovers a little lower, bows his head, and his orbs spread out to chime like prayer bells. Hanzo sets his bow down and sits seiza, with his hands on his knees. On that note, Mei also sits seiza but doesn’t meditate, instead awkwardly looking around and glancing at snowball for confidence.

And the COMPLETELY unique poses are probably my favorites. Junkrat wants you to paint him like one of your French girls, fingers tapping on the ground and OOZING such misplaced confidence and insanity that I can’t NOT love him. D.Va reveals her stash of snack food and plays on her Future GameBoy for a while, completely uninterested in what else is going on. Symmetra’s too pompous and confident to sit on the ground, so she creates a seat for herself out of hard light to sit on instead.

Just. I fucking love this game.

6

Figure Skating Jumps With Yuuri and Viktor

This blog started out as a Yuri!!! on Ice trash blog, but somewhere along the way, my love for figure skating was rekindled. My blog now doubles as a figure skating… trash blog, lol! Yeah, I have no life.

Anyway! Jumps - wonderful to watch, confusing af to recognize. If this is your usual sentiment, then you have come to the right place! Let Yuuri and Viktor show you the different jumps done by figure skaters, as well as tips on how to recognize them.

Jumps are actually fairly easy to recognize once you know what to look for. The first thing to look for is how skaters propel themselves off the ice. Was there a toe pick assist - meaning did the other foot’s toe pick help the skater push off the ice? Or was the skater propelled solely by their knees? The former is called a toe jump, because the toe pick was used to lift off the ice. The latter is called an edge jump, because the skater jumped off directly from an edge of their skating blade. This is most recognizable through a deeper bend in the knees, because without a toe pick assist, the strength of the jump comes solely from the knees.

HOLD UP… EDGES???

Right, so we also need to understand edges first. If you search for close ups of skating blades viewed from the back, you will find that there is something like a hollow on the bottom of the blade so that there are two edges. If you were to stand with your feet just slightly apart, the inside edges would be the edges in line with your inner thighs (and calves, whatever). Conversely, the outside edges would be the edges that are facing the outside world.

Now, the great thing is all jumps are landed at the back outside edge. Which foot depends on the skater. Yuuri and Viktor both seem to favor landing on their right foot. Most skaters have a preferred landing foot, but to help you visualize, a skater who prefers landing on his right foot, for example, would always land tilted slightly to the right, because he is landing on his right outside edge.

So if it is not the landing that differentiates the jumps, what does? Yep, you got it - the entry.

Now that we have the basics down, time for the fun part: the different kinds of jumps!

EDGE JUMPS

Loop: Entered at the back outside edge of the same foot. You land exactly where you started, hence the “loop”. Example of a loop is the first gif, which is a loop done by Yuuri. The knee bend is not very clear, but see how his right foot is tilted to the right and slightly back? Clear back outside edge, landed also on his right foot.

Salchow: Yuuri’s bane of a jump is entered at the back inside edge of the opposite foot. The fun thing about the Salchow is that apart from the usual clues (knee bend and tilt of the foot), the nature of the landing is such that the entry leg sweeps into a wide arch once the skater lands on the opposite leg. Example is the second gif, done by Yuuri. See how Yuuri bends his knees? That is an obvious edge jump. See how his left foot tilts slightly inwards (inside edge take-off) before jumping off? Another interesting thing about this gif is Yuuri’s entry on the Salchow – it looked like he jumped from both feet. Two-footed Salchows are right or wrong depending on who you ask, but the idea is that the skater should still be taking off from the correct foot and the correct edge when entering the Salchow.

Axel: Yuuri’s favorite is also a common favorite among fans because it is easily recognizable AND it is the jump type with the highest points. The Axel is the only jump entered facing forward. Because of this entry, however, to land on the back outside edge (where all jumps land), you have to make an extra half rotation. That means a triple Axel is actually an Axel with three-and-a-half rotations, and this is also why it is given the most points. Also because of this, a quad Axel is the only remaining possible quad jump that has not yet been landed. (Can you imagine having to do four-and-a-half rotations?) Example, of course, is our boy Yuuri nailing that triple Axel in the third gif.

TOE JUMPS

Toe Loop: Arguably the easiest jump, it is basically a loop with a toe pick assist. With the extra assist, it is usually the first quad landed by most male skaters, and in the show, this is the only quad Phichit can land. The fourth gif is a triple toe loop done by Viktor. See the way his left toe pick helps him off the ice? See how cleanly he takes off (slight outside tilt of his right foot) and lands on the same foot (same outside tilt)?

Flip: Viktor’s signature quad, the flip jump is entered by the back inside edge of the opposite foot. Enter on the inside edge of one foot, land at the outside edge of the other foot - hence, you flip. You can also think of it as a Salchow with a toe pick assist. The fifth gif is a triple flip done by Viktor. I chose his triple flip because the animation is clearer here. See how his right leg swings for that toe pick assist? His left entry foot is tilted slightly inwards to jump from his inside edge, and he then lands on his usual right landing foot (tilted slightly outwards to the back outside edge). (Bonus: The quad flip in particular is interesting to watch out for because for some reason, the skaters do a full turn before the jump, which is not as obviously done when skaters do a triple flip instead. It makes the quad version look dramatic, at least especially in the show when Yuuri and Viktor do it with that solemn look on their faces and all, but it’s also fun to watch when real-life figure skaters like Shoma Uno - who was the first to land the quad flip - also does that full turn before jumping. Somebody explain this to me, though. What physics is at work there? Idk.)

Lutz: Chris’ signature jump and my personal favorite is the Lutz, which is entered on the back outside edge of the opposite foot. The interesting thing about the Lutz is that because it is entered from the outside edge of the opposite foot, it is counter-rotated - that means the skater goes one direction then spins the opposite direction. It is a high difficulty jump and so gets the second highest base score after the Axel. The last gif shown here is a Lutz done together by Yuuri and Viktor, and I slowed the gif down a bit to better show the characteristics of the jump. Viktor actually gives the more consistently clear example of Lutzes in the show, but see how Yuuri enters the jump on the first few frames? That is typical Lutz entry, where the skater’s entry foot crosses over to the opposite side to give it that tilt it needs so they jump from the back outside edge. See how Viktor’s left foot is slightly tilted so you see underneath his skate? He is tilted slightly to the left, but he then jumps counter-clockwise, even if with that tilt, his natural spin would have been clockwise. He then lands on his right foot on the outside edge.

And there you have it! The six types of figure skating jumps. I hope that was helpful to those who are interested in learning to recognize these awesome jumps. The more figure skating fans, the merrier, I say!

(Any questions on these jumps? Leave me a message and talk skating to me. I would love to answer your questions! ♡)

there are few places to be that are more dangerous than between me and fresh pizza

being a cashier is ass but I get to meet some really neat people and one of my all time favorite interactions was with this couple who must have been somewhere in their late forties or fifties who came in relatively late at night and had a very large amount of candy in their purchase

both of them had clearly been having a blast shopping together, and were super friendly to me. the guy made a point of telling me “the candy is for our kids” but he couldn’t say it with a straight face and immediately went and stood behind the woman, looking like he was trying to hide (even though he was about a foot taller than her and much bigger.)

(it was cute shit, is what I’m saying.)

as I was ringing up the rest of their stuff, he leaned over her shoulder and whispered (LOUDLY) “I don’t think she believes it’s for the kids.”

to which she replied, “well, we don’t have kids.”

“shh!”

cuddly / platonic-ish memes

  • “your feet are cold.”
  • “movies are made for watching, not for asking questions.”
  • “you’re hogging the blankets!”
  • “we should cuddle… for warmth.”
  • “is that your hand on my leg?”
  • “scoot over.”
  • “can we watch something else? this is scary.” 
  • “are you shivering?” 
  • “if you start snoring, i won’t be responsible for what happens to you.”
  • “did you eat all the popcorn?”
  • “your hair keeps getting in my face.”
  • “are you even wearing pants??”
  • “stop kicking me!”
  • “you’re a good pillow.”
  • “do i look like a foot-rest to you?”
  • “do i look like a pillow to you?”
  • “i’m cold.”
  • “why can’t you ever just lay still?”
Bad Things- Jughead Jones

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: Just glimpses in to Jughead and Reader’s relationship. Heavily based off of the song “Bad Things” by Camila Cabello and Machine gun Kelly because I’m a total slut for that bop

Warnings: SIN SIN SIN SIN SO MUCH SIN IM A SINNER, Swearing, implied smut, actual descriptive smut like guys this is kinda intense.

I DID IT OKAY I SINNED FOR Y’ALL

(Disclaimer: If you are uncomfortable with Jughead Jones smut then Do.Not.Read. This is literal actual smut intended for the Riverdale Tv Show version of Jughead Jones portrayed by Cole Sprouse, as all my other fics are. If you are offended or do not like this kind of stuff, then just keep scrolling. This is requested by my followers and I won’t deny it or not do it simply because a few other people don’t like it.)


            ___________________________________________-

“Am I outta my head, am I outta my mind? If you only knew the bad things I like.”


It was the little things about him that always had me craving him. The veins along his wrists, when his jaw was clenched. The little hints of curls that poked out of his gray beanie, almost as if they were begging to see the light of day. The frame of his body was probably my favorite part. I had never been attracted to buff men, particularly guys like my friend Archie Andrews. He was a whole different story though. He was tall and lean, almost comparing to the body of a track runner, but his body was still toned in all of the right places, and he was certainly strong enough to carry me up my stairs to my bedroom. Jughead Jones made me think the most sinful things, and I couldn’t ever stop. I’m just lucky that the feeling is mutual.

“Y/n?Did you just hear a thing I said?” My best friend Veronica looked at me expectantly, her eyebrows raised and looking frustrated with me. Truthfully, I hadn’t heard a thing she said. I was too busy focusing my attention on something more…interesting.

Jughead Jones had started out as a friend. That’s how they all did, right? We had four classes together, and mutual friends, so of course, we grew incredibly close over time.Eventually, it became something more The boy stared back at me, his blue eyes piercing through mine and in to my head, almost reading my thoughts. I saw as he mouthed a simple word “tonight” and I gave him a slight nod, biting my lip in response.

“Sorry V, she’s too focused on her loverboy.” Archie taunted me, passing by us and to his friend, knocking shoulders with him. Jughead blushed slightly, not moving from his position on the lockers, his arms crossed over him. I could fix that.

I strutted over, my hips moving a little more than they usually do. Jughead uncrossed his arms and they immediately went to my waist once I reached him, pulling me in to his body that was still against the lockers. I leaned up, pressing my lips to his quickly before the bell rang. I broke apart from my boyfriend, my hand sliding down his shirt slowly. I pulled away, winking at him before strutting off. I didn’t even have to turn around to know his eyes were on me, watching my every step.



“No matter what you say, no matter what you do, I only wanna do bad things to you.”



Jughead and I had been together for a good six months before we got in to our first fight. He always had his nose shoved in to his laptop, and I got no attention from him anymore, and I was angry. I had waited a while for him to notice, and he never did, so I took matters in to my own hands.

My boyfriend sat at a stool in my kitchen, his hands in his hair and his laptop in front of him, His beanie long forgotten on the counter. If I wasn’t so pissed at him, I might have offered to release some of that tension, but I wasn’t in a giving mood that day. I slammed the laptop shut, my eyes glaring at him. Jughead looked up at me with a confused look.

“Forsythe, do you remember why I invited you over?” I asked him, my eyebrow cocked while I waited to his answer. His mouth opened slightly, trying to string together something and drawing up a blank. I scoffed, shaking my head and walking away.

“Baby, wait-” Jughead hopped off the stool, following me out of the room.

“Jughead, I asked you to come over because I wanted to spend time with you!! Not so I could watch you on your laptop the whole time! I just want some of you to myself!is that too much?”

“You know how important this novel is to me, y/n-”

“ I know that! But I should be more important!” I shouted. I didn’t care if I sounded selfish. I was pissed.

“ Of course you’re more important! What kind of question is that?!” Jughead looked at me like I was ridiculous and I shook my head.

“Really? Because sometimes it feels like you would choose that book over me if it came down to it.” I crossed my arms, my foot tapping against the hardwood floor. Jughead’s face fell, and the anger on his face was replaced with a sad look.

“That is not true, that is not true at all, I would always choose you.” Jughead closed the gap between us, his arms wrapping around my waist. I pushed him away slightly, my hands on his chest.


“Prove it.” I spoke bravely, my tone of voice becoming different.


Everything happened relatively quickly from there.Jughead’s hands went around my back, lifting me so my legs were wrapped around his waist, and his fingers wrapping around the backs of my thighs. His mouth was on mine and I felt my back hit the wall. Jughead’s lips went to my neck, sucking harshly at the skin until purple bruises adorned it. My hands went to his sweater, almost ripping the fabric just to get it off of him.

“ My room,” I panted, my hands tangled in Jughead’s hair while he sucked harshly at the collarbone peeking out of my tank top. He adjusted my body that was wrapped around his before making his way to the stairs, carrying me up them. I felt my back hit my mattress and Jughead was on top of me, his legs on either side of my waist and his hands already under my shirt. His had already been tossed over a chair in my room.

I flipped us over so I was on top,grinding my lower body in to his. Jughead let out a low groan, his head tilting upwards at the contact. My hands made quick work unbuckling his belt, pulling it off of him quickly and unbuttoning his jeans. Jughead looked at me impressed.

“No matter how many times you do that, I’m still pretty shocked at your skillwork.” Jughead’s arms went behind his head, a smirk now on his face.

“Don’t get too comfortable.” I taunted, my hands going behind my back.

I unclasped my bra, tossing it across my room somewhere. Jughead sat up quickly, his mouth already on my chest, littering my body with hickeys. He flipped us over again so he was in control, and pressed open mouth kisses down my stomach to my hips, his fingers curling under my sweatpants and dragging the waistband down and off of me. My breath hitched in my throat when I felt his lips on my thigh, leaving light little kisses up them until his mouth was over the fabric of my underwear. My back arched off the mattress at the feeling, my fingers gripping the sheets until my knuckles turned white. Jughead hooked two of his digits in to the side of my underwear, pulling them slowly down my thighs.

“Jug… Jug please.” I begged, not really in the mood to take things slow. Jughead pulled the fabric down the rest of my legs, and they went flinging in an unknown direction of the bedroom.Jughead’s head dipped down, and I was breathing intensely, my hands going to his hair and tangling in to the strands, gripping tightly.




“We’re both wild, and the nights young, and you’re my drug.”




Parties weren’t Jughead’s thing, but Cheryl was in fact now a part of our gang, and it was only fair to at least make an appearance. So, on Saturday night, I was getting dressed and ready to go to her party. I wore a simple blue dress a gold belt with a bow around my waist, and some black ankle boots. Veronica and Betty laid on my bed, chatting amongst the two of them while I finished my makeup. I was finishing my lipstick when Archie and Jughead walked in to my door, both of them surprisingly having smiles on their faces.

Jughead made his way towards me immediately, pressing a kiss to my temple and standing behind me, his arms wrapping loosely around my shoulders. I looked at him through my vanity mirror, blowing a kiss at him, and he blushed and rolled his eyes.

“Are you almost ready y/n?” Betty sighed exasperatedly. She say up from the bed, smoothing out her romper, and Veronica wrapped her an arm around her waist, leaning her head against her girlfriends shoulder

“Oh, Bets, let the poor girl take her time. It’s always classier to be fashionably late.” Veronica pressed a kiss to the shell of Betty’s ear and her face went red.

                                       —————————————–

We arrived on time to the party and everyone split up, Betty and Veronica dancing, Archie talking to Valerie, and my back to Jughead’s chest as we sunk in to a corner of the room, to have some privacy. His arms were around my waist, holding my tightly to his body while he pressed kisses to my neck, whispering incredibly sinful things about what he would be doing to me right this minute had we not been at Cheryl’s house.

I know that Jughead would have rather been at my house tonight, cuddled in to each other on my couch watching a movie, or just talking and being in each other’s presence, or even trying out some of the things he had been whispering to me. I felt a little sympathetic for him, but I knew just the way to cheer him up.

I turned around, my hands slipping in to his, and I pulled him towards the middle of the room. An upbeat song was playing and everybody was dancing and jumping around. Jughead huffed, not wanting to go, but I knew he wouldn’t resist if I tried hard enough.

I finally got him to the middle of the room, my hands lacing with his, my back pressed against his chest as my hips swayed back and forth to the music. I could feel Jughead was tense, so I gave him a little incentive by pushing my lower body in to his slightly, and I heard his breath shudder a bit before he was moving his body against mine and his lips were on my neck.

“we should go back to your place."Jughead whispered, his lips brushing against my skin. I tilted my neck so he could have easier access, taking his hands in mine and running them down the sides of my body. With the way his body was moving against mine, and all the things he had been sharing with me earlier, it would be an understatement to say I was worked up. I grabbed his hand again, weaving through the crowds and shouting a goodbye to Betty and Veronica before starting the trek to my house. Jughead and I walked hand in hand, slowing down every once in a while to kiss each other.


"When we get home, you’re in for it.”

“Oh, I know.”




“And you keep me in with those hips, while my teeth sink in those lips, while your body’s giving me life, and you suffocate in my kiss.”


Fuck, Forsythe.” I hissed, my nails digging in to his back. My hips moved slowly down on to his length, my fingers moving up his back and in to his hair. His hands were wrapped around my body, his lips biting harshly at my shoulder. When I felt my body adjust to him, I rose my hips before sinking back down on to him again.Jughead captured my lips with his, his teeth biting gently in to my bottom lip. We lazily kissed as I moved up and down slowly, my walls tightening around him slightly. Jughead held me as close to his body as he could, our chests pressed together.

I was on cloud 9 every time I was intimate with Jug. Everything about him was breath taking, and he was so beautiful when he was like this: his lips slightly parted, his curly hair matted down and sticking to his forehead, and his body shining from the warmth of our bodies colliding.

I started to move my hips a little faster, grinding down on to Jughead’s hips. Jughead buried his face in to the crook of my neck, and his arms wrapped around me even tighter, if that was possible. I used whatever energy I had left to move my hips faster, bringing Jughead and I both to the edge. I could feel the warmth in the pit of my stomach, warning me that I was close.

“F-fuck, Forsythe,I-”

“I know, baby.” Jughead began to meet his hips with mine on every thrust, one arm unwrapping from around my body to press the pad of his finger to my clit. I gasped at the sensation, my nails scratching against his back harder.

“Shit, shit, I-I’m-” I cut myself off, not having enough breath to finish my sentence. I felt my stomach tighten and then I was cumming on Jughead’s dick, a quiet moan escaping my lips. I kept thrusting against him, riding out my high while he chases his, soon I was being hit with overstimulation, but I powered through it, bouncing against Jughead as fast as I could.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, I’m gonna-” strings of curse words escaped Jughead’s lips as he flipped us over, pounding in to me as hard as he could. His lips went around on of my nipples, sucking harshly, and his fingers rubbed quickly and forcefully against my clit, drawing out another orgasm from me.

Before I knew it, I was cumming again, this time Jughead following as he came inside me. Jughead’s body collapsed on top of mine, not before pulling out of me slowly. My hands tangled themselves in his hair and his arms went back around my body, his head laying against my chest. I could feel his heart race against my own beating heart, and I looked down at my beautiful boyfriend, as I smiled.He was all mine.





“The way we love, is so unique, and when we touch, I’m shivering.”





I woke up to the light shining from my bedroom window, the rays of sun peeking through my curtains and casting rays of light along the sleeping bodies of Jughead and I. The night before had been our one year anniversary, and he “spent the night”, Which resulted in to this morning, the both of us naked in my bed. Jughead was already awake, his fingers tracing along my arms.Goosebumps ran along my skin at the feeling of his touch, leaning up to give him a kiss.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Jughead mumbled against my lips. I giggled as his fingers went to my sides, tickling me the slightest bit.

“Good morning, handsome.” I smiled down at him, my eyes practically in the shapes of hearts. I loved this boy to death. He was the most perfect thing I had ever found in this world.

“How are you feeling?” He asked me, his fingers stopping so his arms could wrap around my back. He pulled our bodies tighter together.

“I’m great.” I told him, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. Jughead’s face scrunched up slightly and I giggle again, my hands cupping his cheeks.

“I love you, so much. So, so, soso much.” I started pressing kisses all over his face and I felt it scrunch up again before catching my lips with his. Jughead wasn’t a super affectionate person in public, so I loved these moments I had with him, hidden away under my covers, where it was just the two of us.





“And no one has to get it, just you and me.”






“I swear to god, you two are the most sickeningly cute couple in..in… In god knows what!” Veronica threw her hands up dramatically before slamming them down on to the table at the booth. She looked at the two of us, who sat across from each other. Jughead and I didn’t break our eye contact, still looking at each other and smiling brightly.

“Come on, V.It’s cute. They’re cute.” Betty defended, sitting across from her girlfriend.

“ I know, but look at them! All they do is stare at each other like its the morning after their first time.“ Veronica scoffed before pausing for a second. Her mouth opened in shock before she whispered loudly.

"You guys fucked!” Jughead and I broke apart at that, looking at Veronica with wide eyes. I was about to shake my head when Jughead interrupted.

“We’ve been fucking, V. Catch up.” Ronnie and Betty’s mouth fell open simultaneously at the confidence in Jughead’s voice.He leaned back in the booth and turned his attention back to me, cheekily winking at me. My cheeks grew hot as I looked back at my best friends, mouths still open in shock.

“You guys, you, you’re-” Ronnie stammered, looking back and forth at each other. Jughead and I started laughing at Ronnie’s reaction, and she sputtered.

“I don’t get your relationship. I seriously don’t.” Ronnie slumped in her seat, her chin resting in the palm of her hand.

“Cheer up, V. It’s y/n and Jughead. Nobody gets it except them.” Jughead and I had already tuned out Betty though, our attention going back to each other. Nobody had to understand our relationship, because it wasn’t theirs. It was ours, And it was perfect.

Seeking Paintings | Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: You, a muggle-born artist, have been hiding your feelings for Draco Malfoy for years now. Though, after an unplanned meeting in the astronomy tower things between the two of you start to change. Even more so after finding each other in the Room or Requirement.

Word Count: 3,573

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: not my gif credit to owner


You stare out into the vast horizon from the astronomy tower. This was your favorite hideout during your free period. You much rather enjoyed the view when it was light outside. Sure you love astronomy class and looking up at the stars but this was just different. Better.

You pulled out your old, hard-cover, weather-beaten sketch book and began to draw the landscape before you. You made sure to grasp and add every detail to your drawing. You began shading in the sunset when you heard a voice behind you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked in a rotten tone and you already knew who it was.

“You don’t own the astronomy tower, Draco,” you say blandly while continuing your work.

“You know this is were I go in my spare time,” you hear him huff.

“I know,” you blush, hoping he doesn’t know that besides the view one of your favorite part of this spot is that it’s that it’s his spot too. Then again, how would he even know that, it’s not like you two are exactly close.

You hear him start to walk away and your heart sinks. Just once you’d like him to stay up here when you’re here. Maybe then, you too could become close. You’d had this battle with having a crush on Draco since first year. Now here you are, sixth year and the most interaction between you two is fighting over the astronomy tower.

“You know you can stay right?” You boldly say. You swallow hard when you hear him stop in his tracks.

You hear his footsteps begin again but this time coming back towards you.

He sits a few feet from you, “Just don’t expect me to talk to you.”

You just smile and shake your head continuing to look down at your sketch book. For a few minutes you two stay like this, you drawing, him (probably) thinking. You wonder what could be going on in his head, he seemed to be thinking pretty deeply.

You feel him inching towards you at a snail’s pace, from the corner of your eye you can see him watching you draw everything from here to the horizon. You hate yourself for the blush creeping up on your face, by the time he’s within a foot of you your face is bright red.

“Why are you blushing?” You look up at him and see he’s smiling, a genuine smile.

Because I’ve been hiding my massive crush on you for nearly six years.

“I just get embarrassed at people watching me work,” you shrug.

“Why?” He asks seeming genuinely interested. “You’re really good.”

“Thanks,” you’re blush gets even deeper.

You break eye contact and look back down at your sketchbook. The rest of the period is made up with you finishing your sketch and Draco watching intently. He’s completely mesmerized at how you can just see an image and recreate it perfectly on your page.


It’s Saturday and you aren’t needed nor expected anywhere, which is why Saturdays are your favorite days. You usually spent these days roaming around looking for inspiration for a new art piece. Which is exactly how you plan to start today.

You roam the school grounds aimlessly, constantly moving your head around to grasp every aspect of the school. You step into the one of the many courtyards and feel inspired to sketch it, until you realize you’ve already done that… Ten times…

You sigh and realize that after six years of constantly working in the same space it’s going to be hard to find a completely new area for your art. Just this year and the following before you can finally start travelling and finding more inspiration worldwide.

In your attempts to find a new spot you’re again not looking forward. causing you to slam right into someone.

“Hey, watch where- oh, hey Y/N,” you hear Draco’s voice quickly turn from intimidation to delight.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” you ramble.

“Don’t worry about it,” he laughs at how cute he thinks you are when you ramble.

A blush creeps onto your face, “Well, I best be going.” As you turn to walk away he grabs your wrist and turns you back to face him.

“Hey, are you going to the Quidditch match today?” He inquires.

“Um I wasn’t really planning on it,” you scratch the back of your neck.

“Oh,” his face slightly falls. “Well, I’d like it if you went,” he says his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Even though you’d be rooting for Y/H and not Slytherin,” he looks at the ground.

“I mean I probably should go, it's sixth year and I haven’t gone to a single match,” you shrug and he looks at you dumbfounded.

“Not a single match? Well, you definitely have to go now,” he laughs and so do you.

“Well, I guess you can count on me being there,” you say before turning and walking away. You look over your shoulder, “And I guess I can root for Slytherin just this once,” you wink and quickly face forward as your face turns crimson red. A crazy amount of adrenaline must’ve been rushing through you for having the courage to wink at Draco Malfoy.


You take a seat in Y/H’s section for the Quidditch match, all your housemates do a double take when they see you arrive. Which were followed by ‘finally’, 'it’s about time’, 'I didn’t even know you knew how to get here’ and more sayings around those lines.

You don’t know to much about Quidditch, especially since you’re a muggle-born. Not that you know much about muggle sports either. Your friends have explained the game to you many times, you got the logistics but you just didn’t know why it was such a big deal. Maybe you’ll actually figure it out through watching a match.


Draco rose up into the air on his broomstick to prepare for the start of the game. On his way up he scanned the crowd for you and a smile creeps onto his face when he sees you sitting in Y/H’s section. He can tell you look slightly out of place in the stands and is glad to see you actually showed up. He keeps up the hope that you’re actually here for him.

He has been trying to convince himself since second year that he doesn’t have feelings for you. That he could never have feelings for a muggle-born. Except as he’s grown older through his school years he’s realized that muggle-borns aren’t that bad. He’s realized he was just told to think that way, not that he actually believed it.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by the blow of the whistle signaling the beginning of the game. Slytherin immediately takes hold of the Quaffle and manages to score within the first minute. A chorus of boos and angered shouts comes from Y/H’s section. Draco looks over to see you remaining silent among your peers. He smiles, hoping you may be rooting for Slytherin…for him…silently. Even if you’re not, at least you aren’t booing.

Draco circles around the field, scanning for the snitch. He’d be lying to say that he wasn’t losing his interest in Quidditch, squinting into the distance searching for a flying ball of gold gets boring after awhile. Of course, he didn’t know if the sport itself was actually starting to bore him or the stress recently rested upon him was making him lose interest in the things he loves. Apparently stress can do that. 

He sees a flicker of gold in the distance, shocked at how early on he’s spotted it he doesn’t fully believe he saw it. That is until he sees the seeker for Y/H dive in the direction of the flash of gold. He quickly follows and the two chase after the golden blur, neck and neck. Draco shoves the other seeker, causing him to spin off course and leaving Draco to be the only one in pursuit of the snitch.

He’s extremely close, he takes a hand off his broom and reaches towards the snitch. He feels cold metal on the pads of his fingers, he just needs to get a grip around it. Almost…

Wham!

He’s nearly knocked off his broom as pain seers through his ribcage. He got hit with a bludger milliseconds before he could grab the snitch. He holds a hand over his ribcage and groans in pain. He rises back into the air to find he’s near Y/H’s section. He looks over at you and you mouth to him, 'Are you okay?’. He nods and manages to give you a faint smile as reassurance.

When he starts to move upward he hears many whispers, “Did Draco Malfoy the Draco Malfoy just smile?”, “Did he smile at you, Y/N?”, “Is there something going on between you two?”, and things of that nature.

He looks back in your direction to see your cheeks turning pink while multiple people start to question you. Though more importantly he sees a smile on your face at the thought of people thinking something is going on between the two of you.

Suddenly, his interest for Quidditch returns. Except rather than loving the sport, wanting to be the best, and move towards winning the House Championships, his goal and motivation to win comes from you. He wants to impress you, and suddenly he finds himself squinting at the field and scanning it as if his life depended on it.

Ten minutes pass with no sign of the snitch. Y/H is currently in the lead, sixty-twenty. Draco continues to scan the field, keeping an eye on the other seeker to see if they look to be in pursuit. He finds himself glancing over at you often as well, trying to make sure you aren’t growing bored. Good thing he’s doing this because it is when he shifts his eyes to you that he spots the snitch once again.

This time determined to get he speeds off in the directions of the flicker of gold. He soon gets close enough that the snitch is hardly a blur anymore. He stretches out his arm when he feels someone bump his side, not strong enough to knock him off his path though. It’s Y/H’s seeker, Draco gives them a menacing stare before turning his eyes back to the snitch. The two race around the field with their arms reaching towards the snitch, they’re neck and neck. Draco, determined to win, jerks his hand out so roughly he fears he might’ve dislocated his shoulder. It would be worth it though, he feels his hand close around the snitch.

He slows down and waves the snitch above his head, wearing a proud smile. The rest of the Slytherin team flies over to congratulate him. He hardly notices their presence as he starts to look for you, to see your reaction. His smile fell, you weren’t in the spot you had previously been in. You weren’t anywhere to be seen.

A look of disappointment washes over Draco’s face as he moves back to the ground. Where did you go? Why did you leave? Did you just not care enough to stay? Did you leave because Slytherin won? Was it foolish of him to think you were here for him? He was disappointed that he ever let that thought into his head.


The rest of the Slytherins were celebrating in their common room, but Draco was in no mood for a party. Though every time he tried to move towards the dorms one of his friends would pull him back to the center of the crowd.

“Dude, what up with you,” Blaise leans onto Draco. “You know you can’t vanish from a party after a win.”

Vanish.

He hadn’t been to the room of requirement in ages. If he was already disappointed with himself he might as well make it even worse by working on that cabinet.

“I actually have to go do something,” Draco mutters before peeling away from the crowd, this time being successful.

He begins the journey from the dungeons all the way to the seventh floor, left corridor. Constantly, he finds himself dodging behind corners at the sight or sound of a teacher. When he makes it to the entrance of the Room of Requirement unscathed he begins to pace and think deeply about what he needs.

I really need to work on this cabinet. If I don’t fix it in time I’ll probably get myself and my family killed. To work on this cabinet though I’m really going to need some privacy. No one else should be able to go in or out. I really just need to be alone, even though I’d rather be talking to Y/N, figuring out why she left the natch early… But I really need to go work on this cabinet in private.

He thinks to himself, allowing him access to the room. He steps inside and begins to make his way to the vanishing cabinet. He examines a feather from the last time when he used that cabinet on a small bird. He begins to realize it’s spending days on end staring at this cabinet that he truly begins to hate what he’s become. He knows he had no choice, it makes him hate all those who did. All who didn’t have people pressuring him to be evil. To kill or be killed. It makes him hate all those who had good people in his life.

He just wanted one good person in his life, he needed one good person in his life.

Where am I going to find a good person who wants to be in my life?

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when he hears a crash from somewhere in the room, faint whispering follows. Someone else is in here.

He draws his wand from his pocket, becoming extremely alert. He swallows hard, the last thing he needs is to be caught in here. He slowly moves towards the sound of the crash, pashing piles and piles of randomized objects. The faint whisper becomes a distinct mutter, a girl’s mutter.

He jumps out from behind the last pile of things before him and the unknown girl and raises his wand. However, he immediately lowers it at the sight before him.

“Y/N?” He questions putting his wand back in his pocket.

You look up at him and gulp. You are kneeling on the ground in front of a puddle of spilt paint to the side of a canvas. Your face turning a bright red to match the paint covering the floor.

“Draco,” you say wide-eyed. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he tuts.

“Well, I needed a canvas and some oils,” you shrug. “So, I went to the room that would supply me with my needs.

"Well, I needed privacy as in no one else being in here,” he says coming off more hostile than he wants to be towards you.

“Maybe you don’t know what you’re actually needs are,” you look down at the ground, saddened at his hostility towards you. Just when you were beginning to think he could actually like you, how silly.

He remembers what he was just thinking about. Where am I going to find a good person who wants to be in my life? “Maybe you’re right,” he admits.

You look up at him and try to suppress any thoughts of him needing you from your head. You look back down at your paint puddle and go back to cleaning.

“You know there’s this thing called magic,” he chuckles before pulling out his wand. After giving it a little flick all the paint moves back into the container.

You tut before letting out a muffled thanks and standing back up. A slight frown forms on your face as you dip your paintbrush into your now unspilt paint and get back to working on your canvas.

“I thought you’d be a little more thankful,” Draco raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t like to mix magic and art,” you huff.

“How come?” he presses on, sounding as though he genuinely cares.

You sigh, not sure if you’re completely comfortable about divulging your childhood to Draco, your muggle childhood. If you even wanted to dream about having a chance with him you figured it wouldn’t be best to remind him you’re muggle-born. However, he’s expecting an answer and you only have the truth.

“It just when I was younger I was told I had a gift when it came to art,” you sigh. “They said my art made my talent seem like magic,” you smile at the memories. “I guess I wanted to keep it all down to talent not literal magic,” you shrug,

“Oh,” is all he has to say. “Well, can I see what you’re painting?”

At that you freeze, brush in midair dripping paint onto the ground. You swallow hard and your face becomes a deeper red than Draco, or anyone has ever seen you as. You slowly turn your near paralyzed head to look at him wide-eyed, You do not even want to imagine Draco’s reaction to your current work, yet alone see or hear it in reality.

He chuckles, “I’ll take that as a no.” You slightly nod and turn back to your work. “If I can’t look at it can you at least tell me what it is?” Your face is burning at this point, it feels so hot you fear you may need to go down to the hospital wing.

He appears next to you and you nearly choke on the lump forming in your throat. You set your brush down and timidly turn your head to look at him. You get a side view of his head, slightly tilted with a flattered expression resting on his face.

“Is that me?” He smiles brightly and you swallow hard.

“Is that weird?” You timidly ask.

He turns his head to look down at you, a smile still plastered on his face. “Not at all.”

He looks back to examine the painting even deeper as you rock on your heels as an anxious tick. The painting is a site you captured in your head at the match. Draco with his hand outstretched towards a golden blur, you seeker right at his heels. You painted the world around them as a fuzzy haze to show they were moving at top speeds. In the background one could distinguish the field, goalposts, stadium full of students, as well as the other players flying about.

“Is this why you left the match early?”

“Yeah, I just got the idea and rushed here to go and paint it,” you shrug. Then, you fully process what he just said. “You noticed I left?” Your eyebrows knit together and you move your gaze to him.

“Of course,” he says looking at you. “I did it for you,” he states. “I woke up this morning and the last thing I wanted to do was go looking for a golden blur. Then, I remembered you said I could count on you being there and I knew I had to play.” You open your mouth to speak but no words come out, so Draco continues. “I was planning on inviting you to the after party as my date but you weren’t there,” he shrugs. He’s trying to play it cool but truly he heart is beating a mile a minute. He was not intended to profess his love for you but before he could stop himself the words were slipping from his mouth.

“D-date?”

“Yeah, is it so weird for me to take the girl I’ve liked since second year to be my date?” There’s no going back now. It’s out, the secret is out. Draco Malfoy has feelings for Y/N Y/L/N.

He waits for you to say something, anything. He heart is racing and his cheeks are turning pink. He hopes you’ll say you feel the same but you just stay silent.

Your mouth hangs agape, you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “You’ve liked me since second year?”

“Is that weird?” He timidly asks as you did previously.

“N-not at all,” you smile wider than ever, your face only turning slightly pink. “I mean I’ve liked you since first year.” You see his eyes light up at that, he looks as if this is exactly what he needs to hear.

You two stay silent for a moment, gazing into each others eyes. Both of you wondering what to do next. His eyes slowly move down to your lips, linger for a second, then dart back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathes out so quietly you barely hear.

You nod and try to suppress the butterflies in your stomach. He takes a step closer to you and lightly grips your elbows. He pulls you close and stares deep into your eyes. He starts to lean in as do you, both closing your eyes. His lips gently connect to yours. He softly moves his lips against yours, his hands moving down to your waist as yours get tangled in his hair. Neither of you pull away until you both are gasping for air.

“So did you win?” You giggle once you’ve caught your breath.

“I have now.”

like real people do | jungkook

summary: the feelings for your friends with benefits are changing. months pass, and you feel your gut telling you that you want more. you’re just not sure if he feels the same. 

piece 1, piece 2, piece 3

college student!reader, friends with benefits!jungkook

based off hozier’s song ‘like real people do’

Keep reading

The Bestiary: Scaly-Foot Gastropod

These are diamond-tipped indenter heads. They are used to inflict ludicrous pressure upon various shit in order to measure the hardness of said shit. Recently, one of these was used to measure the hardness of a certain animal’s shell, and, instead of crushing the ever-loving fuck out of it, it found serious resistance.

The aforementioned animal is a snail.

Let me spell this out for ya. There is a snail that can resist the onslaught from an industrial-grade diamond applied with the pressure of several metric fucktonnes. A. Snail. That. Can. Resist. A. Diamond. Indenter.

Just imagine stepping on one of these guys. Instead of breaking their shells like those of usual snails, you’d break your own fucking ankle.

Jesus trilobitic Christ.

Today’s Episode: the Scaly-Foot Gastropod

Just look at this little piece of shit. Look at it and say to my face it doesn’t look like a tank.

What we’ve got here is the rather lamely-named scaly-foot gastropod, also known by the considerably more badass-sounding names of iron snail and  Chrysomallon squamiferum. The SFG hails from the deep-sea thermal vents known as black smokers, deep-sea vents from which water gushes constantly. That water, by the way, originates from below the mantle.

The proximities of black smokers are perfectly lightless, unforgiving badlands, with water rich enough in poisonous sulphuric chemicals to perform the chemical equivalent of curbstomping on any “superior” lifeform that dares stick it’s overspecialized, prissy ass down there, heat up to 450 degrees Celsius (one thirteenth of the temperature of the Sun’s surface) and pressures that could turn any land-dwelling scum into a Flatlander within seconds. If creatures want to survive here, they must either be hyper-effective murder-machines, or damn nigh unkillable.

The SFG’s predators, such as venomous, killer cone snails with bionic harpoon guns evolved from their own “teeth”, and car-wrecking carnivorous crabs that kill snails by pressing down on their shells for days with jagged ultra-hard pincers specifically designed to do this belong in the first category.

The SFG itself belongs in the second.

Hoooly shit does it ever.

The unkillability itself is obtained by using the chemosynthetic bacteria lurking in its glands to absorb and mineralize the poisonous iron-sulphides the water is overabundant with, making them non-poisonous for the snail. It then coats its shell with the minerals, constructing an unique three-layer structure no other gastropods possess. None.

To sum it up, the outer layer, used to block the bulk of the attack, is made up of greigite (Fe3S4), a ridiculously hard mineral. Then comes a middle layer of squishy organic matter purposed to absorb the shock of impacts, dents and blows. Finally, an inner layer of aragonite (CaCO3), designed to prevent asshole crabs from sticking their nasty claws into the shell and picking it apart splinter by splinter.

How effective is it? Well, this armor is so much better than what we puny humans possess that the U.S. Army is actively conducting research about it with the hope of developing new armor using the same build. Yes, this shell is so unbreakable that it caused the a military to lose their heads over a goddamn sea snail. Go figure.

Also, according to biologists researching the SFG, if we covered oil pipes with the stuff, they could easily shrug off damage done by such trivial things as fucking icebergs,

Not bad from a snail, I say.

But that’s not all! Look at it again.

There is a reason it’s called Scaly-foot Gastropod.

Those are scales. Made out of iron minerals.

Iron minerals that are poisonous and magnetic.

The scales are there because of the tooth-harpoon-hurling killer snails. Namely, they serve to deflect the harpoons entirely. Deflective iron scales. On a snail.

Holy crap.

So let’s sum it up, shall we? There exists a snail that forges itself a magnetic armor made out of poisonous iron ore to fend off killer crabs and venomous sniper snails that hunt it in its habitat of a vent leading to the Earth’s mantle.

Oh, and they don’t really eat anything, relying on their chemosynthetic bacteria for sustenance instead. In layman’s terms, that means that the snail keeps itself running by oxidating the sulphides in the water, all of which are lethally poisonous to most lifeforms, including the snail itself. The only reason it survives is that the bacteria chemosynthetize the sulphides, enabling the snail to quite literally live off of poison.

This molluscoid tank is ridiculously metal in more ways than one.

I was inspired by @lazulisong‘s utter brilliance.

The moment Takeshi learned of Yuuri’s ginormous crush on Victor Nikiforov, he lifted Yuuri’s sweatshirt, took a big handful of belly, and shouted loud enough to wake Yuuri’s dead grandmother, “Keep dreaming, round boy! Victor would never want a tubbo like you!”

Oh, but if only Takeshi knew that Victor Nikiforov not only wants a tubbo like Yuuri but that he cried when Yuuri announced that it was time to drop the weight in preparation for the new season. Cried actual tears. The kind of tears usually reserved for deaths in the family or losing everything in a fire. The kind he shed when he thought Yuuri was breaking up with him. Bitter, heart-wrenching tears that leave him red-faced and heaving, then stumbling around hours later, wrung completely dry.

To be fair, Victor cries like that about literally everything—Yuuri landing a quad, surprise candlelight dinners, children in oversized parkas, murals that feature the color cerulean, dogs in movies (not just when they die, but when they’re there at all), the fourth ringtone on his new phone, daffodils, the word ‘sorbet’, and aerosol deodorant—but what Takeshi doesn’t know won’t prove him right, so.

“Maybe you can postpone it another week,” Victor mumbles into the kitchen table, where he fell into a chair and just sort of… deflated everywhere. He’s lying on top of the newspaper. Yuuri really wants to read it.

“You told Yurio he should’ve started training two weeks ago.”

Victor gives a despondent shrug. “He should’ve. Instead he’s been spending all his time Skyping with that degenerate.”

“You love Otabek. You hugged him and said you were proud to welcome him to the family, then you dumped a bag of condoms in his lap and cried because—and I quote—you were trusting him to take care of your most precious child.” And then a mortified, blushing Yurio slammed the airport shuttle door on Victor’s fingers.

Victor’s bandaged hand lifts and cuts through the air as though it were a tiny boat sailing on a choppy sea. Yuuri isn’t entirely sure what it means, but whatever it is? It’s suitably dramatic. “Yurio’s different.”

“Except not really.” Across the table, Yuuri studies the part in his hair, which looks a little… wider than usual. And sadder. It looks like a frown. He wants to lean forward to touch it, but that would do nothing except set Victor off again, and at the moment there isn’t enough fluid in Victor’s body to sustain him as it is. Instead, he pushes his own glass of orange juice toward him. “Vitya, please, drink something and replenish, would you? I don’t want to even think about what the headlines would say tomorrow if I let you pass out while we’re running this evening.”

At that, Victor lifts his head. Yuuri could skate an entire program based on the sheer betrayal on Victor’s face. “We’re running already? But we can’t! Not yet! I'm—You’re not ready. Another week. I’m putting my foot down, as your coach.”

“You’re a terrible coach,” Yuuri says. “I mean that. I want that on record. I can’t believe I’ve put my career in your hands. Can I fire you?”

“I’m a good husband, though, so it all cancels out,” Victor points out, which, okay, fair point. And he proves it by sliding both of his hands across the table and making grabby motions with his fingers. Well, one hand does. The bandaged one looks like a mummified sock puppet. “Don’t leave meeeeee.”

“I’m not leav—” Yuuri pauses, then rolls his eyes so hard he’s almost positive that he sprains something. “Oh. You were talking to my—”

“Squishyyyyyy.”

It comes out on the back of a long, sinuous whine. At Yuuri’s feet, Makkachin stirs, and he places his foot gently on her back and rubs until she settles. “I’m not going to bust my ass twice as hard just so you can manhandle me whenever you want.”

Victor’s head thunks back onto the table between his outstretched arms. “But you’re so soft and squishy, and it’s my favorite, and soon you’re going to be all bony and hard.”

“You’ve never once complained about me being hard,” Yuuri deadpans, then hides his face in his hands, because honestly. Victor cackles dementedly. “Look, I know you like my… well. I appreciate it, but I really need to start training yesterday if we’re going for the gold.”

Victor throws himself off of the table and drapes himself backward over his chair with a groan that honestly deserves an award. “Fine! Fine. Nobody ever told me that so much of being married is making sacrifices.”

It would be so easy for Yuuri to just turn his head and stare at the framed cross-stitch on the microwave that reads Sacrifice is one of the purest and most selfless ways to love someone. Practice it daily. Instead, he nudges the glass of juice a little closer, because, well. Sacrifice.

“Buck up,” Yuuri says cheerfully. “I’ll be back to being squishy before you know it.”

With a grumble, Victor reaches for the glass.

And while no one could ever accuse Yuuri of being the type to hold a grudge, he can’t deny the small, dark part of him that wants to call up Takeshi right this second and crow, “Round Boy got his, you jerk!”

Castaway

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jongin (Kai)

Rating: NC-17 (description of plane crash, explicit sex)

Word Count: 7,950

Summary: A plane crash leaves you stranded, somewhere deep in the Pacific Ocean. Your only company is Kim Jongin - though whether this is better than being alone, you still haven’t decided.

Keep reading

Fathers Day for Tony (Quick Fic)

For @shitshitshitshitwhy who asked for an Awkward!Spidey trying to say Happy Fathers Day to Tony

Tom Holland is Peter, of course RDJ is Tony.

*********************

Peter had been trying to talk to Tony all day.

First in the elevator that morning, as they headed up to Tony’s mandatory Sunday breakfast with the team. Peter had been thrilled to catch Tony alone for once, and had reached in his backpack for the small package and card he had bought yesterday, only to turn around and see Tony on his phone, talking loudly about the pillows on his bed and why they just weren’t fluffy enough, and yes he was aware pillows deflated, but he needed perpetually fluffy pillows.

Peter had just sighed and put the package away.

>>>>>>>>>

After breakfast when Tony and Happy were arguing over who to invite to the birthday party for Clint that weekend, Peter tried to talk to him again.

“Um, Mr Stark?” Peter cleared his throat nervously. “Mr Stark if you have a moment–”

“Do you think it would be obnoxious to decorate in purple?” Tony was saying and Happy nodded emphatically.

“Tony, Clint hates purple.”

“But Clint wears purple.” Tony countered.

“Mr. Stark.” Peter tried again. “I need like two seconds, just real quick.”

“Hey Underoos.” Tony said with a bright smile and Peter flushed a little in happiness. “Do you think Clint would shoot me with an arrow if I decorated his party in purple because Happy thinks—”

“I’ll come back.” Peter said dejectedly, and waved, completely unnoticed by them.

Keep reading

Clubs and Blood

Request: jerome smut? where he gets incredibly jealous where it gets to the point where he kills the guy right in front of you thats been flirting with you all night? and then ends with angry passionate s m u t ?

•••••

Ahh I can’t believe this is happening! We never go out on a date! I jump up and down excited and curing my hair. I slip into my tight royal blue dress and accompany it with my black pumps.

I slide down the railing of the stairs to where Jerome waits in a nice outfit. “Looking handsome my man!” I say kissing his cheek. “And you look…delicious my doll!” He growls in my ear and kisses my neck biting it lightly. “Shall we?” Jerome asks a he opens the door for us to exit.

We make one of J’s henchmen drive us to the club. We walk in and I instantly feel my body moving to the music. “Dance with me J!” I say and attempt to pull him to the floor with me.

He scoffs and pulls his arm away. “I don’t know honey. You know this.” I cross my arms and pout slightly. “Fine.” I say and go by myself.

I sway my hips and make eye contact with J every second. I feel a body press up against me and pull my hips against theirs. Obviously a male. I turn around and smirk knowing this will make J angry. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” He whispers to me; the sent of alcohol clear in his breath.

I grind up against him and smile at J. “Buy me a drink and maybe I’ll tell you.” The man looks me up and down and immediately leads me to the bar getting me a drink.

I look over once again to the booth Jerome is at. He just sits there sipping his whiskey and watches me like a hawk. Even when someone is talking to him. He still keeps his eyes on me.

The man passes me my drink and sits down at the bar. “So you gonna tell me now baby girl?” I giggle and take a swig of my drink loving the burning sensation moving its way down my throat. “Well you see that man over there? He look familiar to you?” I point the mans line of sight to Jerome who is talking to someone.

The mans mouth opens and his eyes go wide. “J-Jerome? The Jerome?” I shrug my shoulders. “He likes to be called Joker by the ones who fear him.” “Why would you be with him?” “He shows me a good time. Really gets me going.”

The man scoffs and grabs my ass pulling me closer. “I bet I could show you a better time.” Suddenly a glass flys between us and smashes on the wall.

The giggle of my sweetheart is heard a foot away making me smile. “Oh do you? You think you can get my little doll going more then I could huh? Think you can make her scream?” Jerome asks getting into the man drunken face. “N-no sir.” He stutters.

Jerome puts his hand behind his ear in a dramatic manner. “What was that? A man who thinks he’s better then me and a fibber? Hmm looks like we got to do something about that…well then.” Jerome immediately shoot the man in the head and laughs.

Jerome puts the gun under my chin lifting my head up. “Now you. What am I going to do to you (y/n)? Punishment has got to be presented, but not here.” Jerome snaps his fingers at his henchmen. “Bring the car around back. Then walk home. We’re gonna be a while.” Jerome says and drags me out the back entrance where the car now waits.

He opens the back door. “Get in baby.” I cross my arms. “And if I don’t?” I ask. Jerome puts his hand round my throat and the gun to my head. “Then you know what will happen. Now listen to me and get in.”

I gulp scared. He’s never threatened me to that extent before. Never has he had me at gun point. I crawl in the back followed by Jerome. “Touch yourself.” He says still pointing the gun at me.

Somehow I felt a little more aroused then I should be. Still scared out of my mind, but still turned on.

I’m never allowed to touch myself. One of Jerome’s rules. I spread my legs for him to see I’m not wearing any panties. “You naughty girl.” He breathes out and runs his own hand over the bulge in his pants.

I slip my hand down to my pussy and rub a single finger up and down my slit spreading the wetness. I proceed to slip a finger inside myself and pump slowly getting a rhythm started.

I add another finger and play with my clit throwing my head back in pleasure. “Oh baby. Look at you.” Jerome laughs and rips the top half of my dress open to revile my breast.

He starts to toy with them as I bring myself closer to release. “Does that feel good doll? Do you like playing with yourself?” I moan and nod my head. “Yes. It feels so good.”

Jerome lowers he head and removes my fingers from my pussy replacing them with his own. He sucks on my clit knowing how sensitive I am there.

I grab his hair and tug at it. “Ah Jerome!” I throw my head back. “Turn around. Hands and knees love.”

I do as he says and I feel the tip of him running up and down my soaked slit. “What do you want baby?” “I want you to fuck me Jerome.” He giggles and slides in roughly.

He doesn’t waste time. He pounds into my as hard as he can bringing me close to the edge. “Who’s are you? Hm? Scream it!” “Yours Jerome!” I moan out.

Jerome pulls my hair back and thrust into me at an angle where I’m ready to cum. “YOURS! IM YOURS!” I scream as we both cum.

Jerome brushes my hair out if my face and kisses my cheek. “That’s right baby.” He says into my ear.

Originally posted by rickdixonandthefandomlifeposts

Originally posted by moan-s

Here we go again..................

That MTV interview with the photographer was a well written piece of propaganda for “Bare with me”, basically saying that love is love, and it is beautiful in all forms. The stuff about Lauren and Lucy was all propaganda to prop up the narrative.

The photographer and the wardrobe lady were only saying what they were advised to say. LIES! (though the wardrobe lady decided to fuck the narrative a bit with the “sisterly and maternal connection”) Management did the same thing with DWTS. Val was advised to lie about when and where he had his first meet up with Normani for DWTS. They had been rehearsing for days before that Houston Rodeo, yet they wanted to push the narrative to the general public that the girls were in on the surprise, and helped introduce Mani to her dance partner. Why? To show how much they support her decision to do her own thing.

My point is, they (management) have no problem getting outside forces, other than the girls, to help sell their narrative. The ladies who did that photo-shoot with Lauren and Lucy are no different. Why have the photographer say what she said? They needed someone, other than Lauren or Lucy, to confirm that Laucy was real, to prove that Camren wasn’t. That one interview killed three birds with one stone. It confirmed Laucy, destroyed Camren, then destroyed Laucy, all at the same damn time. Brilliant actually.

Keep reading

Imagine babysitting Groot with Peter...

Originally posted by nicolasprenger

Warnings: way too cute for human consumption, probably language

A/N: This was a request by @grootiez. I hope you like it because I loved it. Definitely spurred more Groot ideas.

Tags: @bitch-m-fabulous , @thecupcakeconsumer, @courtneychicken

You sat reading aloud next to the tiny planted Groot. He had been growing well since sacrificing himself and you hoped he would talk soon. You never met full sized Groot but between the stories and how much time you spent sitting with Baby Groot, you were pretty sure you would have loved him. The group was supposed to be going into the city on the planet you just landed so that they could collect some general supplies and maybe intel. You hated going outside so you opted out and just gave Rocket a brief list in exchange for you staying with Groot. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Oh sorry! That was insensitive of me to assume. But I'd love to hear the features of the foxes that you picture

oh my god don’t even worry about it, how many people are you going to ask “what do you think this character’s face looks like” and get the response “i presume they…have one” lmao. ANYWAY, this is about to get weird:

  • MATT: super tall and walks a tiny bit duck-footed. he bends down to talk to short people (kids. also, neil). has giant hands that he uses to illustrate his point when he talks. pleasant voice, not as low as you’d expect from such a big guy, and speaks with a bit of a new york accent. wears expensive aftershave that smells bright and fresh because he prefers it to the heavy, complex scents his father favours. laughs all the time from his belly, throws his head back when he does so his teeth show bright white against his skin.
  • AARON: wears khakis probably. maybe polo shirts occasionally? boy is kind of about pretending to be from a nicer background than he really is, but generally prefers ugly band tees when he isn’t trying to impress people. short (obviously), slimmer than his brother but still stocky. lots of fine bright gold body hair that curls on his arms and legs. actually styles his hair, with gel and a comb - it’s too long for spikes, but he likes it neat and out of his face. crosses his arms all the time, which makes him look very defensive. which he is, so. deep voice, permanently bored-sounding unless he’s furious or talking to katelyn
  • DAN: super short hair with a really tight curl. she has really amazing luminous brown skin with stretch marks that she doesn’t care about hiding. wears a lot of ¾ running tights and singlet tops to show off the incredible muscle definition of her shoulders (probably not intentional, but it works). average height for a woman. stands like she owns the earth under her feet. loves to wear colours - yellows, greens, soft pinks, etc. knows how to pitch her voice to be heard, so you always recognise her by it when she calls your name
  • ALLISON: tall for a lady, strides everywhere like she should be on a catwalk in ridiculous shoes thanks to the fact that she used to do exactly that. long dark blonde hair that she wears straightened perfectly down her back like a veil. sometimes she puts it into big loose waves too, for ‘casual’ days. wears complex, dramatic scents as her perfume, which works for her even in class (she’s the girl who smells good, according to her classmates). really direct stare - will look long enough into your eyes to make you uncomfortable. stands with her hands on her hips and her feet planted because she read once that it creates a ‘superhero’ effect on your psyche or something. in reality, it just makes her look intimidating, which is fine by her
  • NICKY: swoopy hair! like, dark brown and falls in floppy curls, which he kind of tries to style but mostly leaves (erik once told him it suits him like it is, so). nearly six foot and quite lanky with it. a very kinetic person who you would recognise at 100 paces by his body language - he speaks with his hands, whip quick. talks quickly but not necessary loudly. shuts down and curls inwards when he’s upset. naturally physical, will rest a hand on you without thinking about it, but thinks about it more now after everything with his cousins. flips his hair out of his eyes all the time and has a distinctive twist of his neck and jaw because of it
  • KEVIN: tall. looks like a dick. arrogant tilt of his jaw like he wants to glare down his nose at you. swaggery athlete’s walk. mobile but naturally downturned mouth, sometimes makes him look kind of sulky. half-samoan, courtesy of his father (!!) so darker skinned but probably obsesses about sunscreen anyway in case he wrinkles. very clean-cut in a way that aaron wants to be, hair always carefully groomed and paired with neat clothes. probably mostly wears athletic gear though. broad shoulders, narrow waist, quiet tenor voice, doesn’t blink enough when he looks at you which is only interesting to weird obsessive exy players (most people find it a little too intense)
  • RENEE: the shortest of the girls (5′3″, round about). doesn’t show much skin, but has a smattering of freckles across her face. always smiling. curvy build, broad-hipped but matched with slim, toned legs from cardio. conservative clothes in simple colours. naturally dark-haired, and her roots sometimes show through when she’s too busy to redo her hair. prone to patient silence and stillness, but fiddles with the cross at her throat when she’s anxious or pensive. speaks softly, has a smooth and measured alto voice, the melodic kind you can imagine singing a hymn or lullaby. wears a light floral perfume at her throat and wrists
  • ANDREW: pale green-and-gold eyes, heavy-lidded with disinterest. built like a small tank. preternaturally still when he stops and yet walks everywhere with purpose. light on his feet. doesn’t give a shit about his hair on a daily basis, but doesn’t like it too long so wears it short and messy. it’s medium blonde, was probably white-blonde when he was a little kid. crosses his arms, somehow manages to look threatening - unlike his brother. deep flat voice that you can’t help but listen to because of the deliberate way he speaks. smells like cigarette smoke, sometimes sweat, and the cheap citrus body wash/shampoo shit he buys which is pervasive and kind of weird on him
  • NEIL: his scars are the first thing you notice about him. all lean muscle, narrow shoulders and hips with a long fine neck. sharp fox-jawed face that isn’t masked by his way-overgrown hair. freckles everywhere. hooks a finger into the opposite edge of the bands he wears on his forearms when he thinks. a graceful but efficient mover. gestures when he talks but hasn’t noticed, and it works well for him because people listen. plush mouth that sometimes gives away what he’s thinking even when the rest of him is unreadable. has inherited some of kevin’s dickish stance thanks to overexposure. smells a lot like andrew, because of shared smoke breaks and also sharing body wash
Room enough for two

This is based on a prompt that went through shittycarryonaus at some point I think? And people were saying they wanted to see it done but as far as I can tell nobody ever wrote it. AU where there is only one bed.

For @snowbaz-feda day 5.

SIMON:

It was fine in first year.

I mean, it was never really fine, Baz hated me from the moment we met, and now I was expected to spend the next eight years sharing a bed with him. Turns out there was a downside to having the biggest room in Mummers House, since it wasn’t originally supposed to be for students and apparently no-one had thought to bring in two separate beds, and no matter how much I bugged the Mage, it never seemed to get done. Eventually I just accepted it.

Anyway. It was fine in first year. We were eleven years old and it was a huge double bed. We’d curl up on opposite sides with our backs to each other, pretending the other one wasn’t there. Once we stopped fighting over it and Baz stopped trying to intimidate me into sleeping on the floor, it was easy enough to get used to it.

Keep reading

I think this is reading a book together? Yes? Ok. let’s do this. 

Keith’s old shack smells of wood varnish and old paper. Specks of dust shine and dance in the beams of afternoon sun, and Keith sits in the centre of his small living room surrounded by boxes. He flicks through a book and smiles fondly at the familiar faces that look up at him. 

“Hey babe! Can we donate all these crop jackets?!” Lance’s voice calls from the bedroom. 

“No!” Keith yells back.

“But they don’t even fit you anymore! And I don’t want these fashion disasters in our apartment!”

Our apartment. Keith’s heart thrums at those words. His grin blooms across his face. 

“I think I can make them fit!” He laughs. 

Soft foot falls announce Lance’s entrance into the living room. he lets out a suffering sigh. 

“Babe. Babe. Look. Babe look at this.”

Keith looks up. On the other side of the room Lance stands wearing one of his crop jackets. It reaches just barely under his pecks. The sleeves reach just under his elbow, and the seams at the shoulder look like they’ll burt. 

“There’s no way you can wear these anymore.” He deadpans. 

“I’m smaller than you. Not my fault you got insanely ripped.”

“Keith! You’re not 16 anymore!” Lance implores. “And your biceps are way bigger than mine.” To prove it to him, Lance runs up behind Keith and grabs his shoulders. He gently sways them from side to side and runs his hands admiringly up and down his boyfriend’s arms. 

“Bench press me, baby. I know you can.”

“Laaaaance,” Keith laughs. Lance chuckles and leans forward. His arms wrap around Keith’s neck and he rests his chin on top of his head. His long legs slot next to Keith’s easily. 

“Is it weird being back here?” Lance asks quietly. Keith leans into Lance’s chest. 

“Yeah….” He sighs. “But it’s nice… being here with you. Getting that sense of closure, you know?”

“Yeah. It’s nice to…” Lance looks down and spies the book in Keith’s lap. He freezes. 

“Nooooo way.” He whispers. He moves to look over Keith’s shoulder, and his arms tuck under Keith’s. He reaches forward and takes the book from Keith’s hands, flicking it closed and staring at the cover.

Garrison 2063 Yearbook 

“Holy shit…” Lance whispers. Keith chuckles and it rumbles against him. 

“I know, right? I found it while packing.”

“We have to keep this.”

“Absolutely.” Keith smiles. “Here wanna see something crazy?” He excitedly flicks to a page. A small photo of Pidge looks up at them. Hair cut short. Glasses comically big on her small face. 

“OOOOHHHHHH my god.” Lance squeals gleefully. “WHAT A TINY BABY.”

Keith giggles. “Remember how you thought she was a boy?”

“Look at this photo! You can’t blame me! Look at this tiny androgynous child.” They both laugh. Lance’s muscular forearms wrap and squeeze around his boyfriend’s stomach. 

“There’s also this.” Keith holds up a new page. Hunk’s 17 year old face beams up at them. There’s the mature eyes that Keith and Lance are used to, but there are traces of baby fat around his jaw. His trademark orange headband is also much brighter than either of them remember it being. Years of sweat, sun and being blown into space have since turned his headband almost a pastel colour. 

“Was Hunk ever small?”

“As someone who’s known him since we were 10…” Lance pauses. “No.” He laughs. “Dude could pick up most of our teachers from the time he was 12. I know this because I dared him to.”

Keith shakes his head. 

“I don’t doubt it.”

They continue to flip through pages. Some faces they barely recognise, others have been completely lost to time. They reach the staff pages and Keith and Lance proceed to flip off Iverson and the other instructors that expelled Keith. 

There’s a sharp intake of breath.

In the staff section, smiling up with a handsome face and beautiful dark hair is Shiro. Both of his arms are clearly visible, and there’s no scar marking his face. His eyes gleam with youthful optimism. Guilt churns in Keith’s stomach.

“God…” He deflates. “He looks so young.”

Lance squeezes him tightly. 

“He certainly… has changed.” He presses a kiss to Keith’s temple and brushes his fingers along a scar that courses through his eyebrow. Keith looks down to see Lance’s prosthetic foot nudging his thigh. 

“But so have we.” Lance smiles. “We’re all ok. Shirt’s ok now. And while things were hard…” He presses another quick kiss to Keith’s cheek. “I wouldn’t change anything.”

Keith turns his head towards his boyfriend. His mouth quirks into a grin and he presses a smiling kiss to Lance’s lips. 

“Me neither.” 

“Also…” Lance smirks. His hands hurriedly flick through the pages until he barks out a laugh.

“Can you PLEASE admit that you had a fucking mullet?” He cackles. Keith looks down at the photo and groans loudly.

“Oh my god, look at this child.” He sighs. “Why is he so moody?!” He yells at his 16 year old self. 

“You stupid boy, you don’t even know you’re an alien yet! No one’s shooting at you! Your life is great!” Keith yells. Lance howls with laughter behind him. 

“I think he’s mad…” Lance wheezes, “Because he’s super fucking gay for this handsome boy here…” Lance points at the photo of his teenager self, “But this boy thinks he’s an asshole.” 

Keith coos at the photo of Lance. He brings the book closer to his face and smiles dopily. 

“God you were cute.”

“Were?” Lance blusters. 

Keith hums. He rotates and leans into Lance’s chest. A low chuckle escapes him. 

“You’ve become the hottest and most handsome person in the universe.” He runs his hands across Lance’s broad chest. 

“And I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The yearbook lies forgotten on the floor as Lance leans down to languidly kiss Keith until the afternoon sun slips into the horizon.