never use the stairs

I haven’t titled this yet, but here’s a preview. Feedback is much appreciated :) 

As much as he was used to this ritual you had of never keeping your hands off him the first twenty-four hours he was gone away from anywhere, and as much as he knew that you wanted to absolutely devour him even before he got into your arms once he climbed down the stairs of his jet, he was never fully used to it.

           It always left a bubble in his tummy, a tiny nervous bubble he only gets before shows or when he knows he must leave you for a long period of time. But this was a good nervous, the kind of nervous that always raised the question, ‘what has she got in store this time?’

           He heard the back-door creak open, a smile played on the corners of his lips as he looked out into his backyard over the patio in his two-story home, knowing full and well your arms would be around him soon. He stood still, his ears perked up when your footprints came closer on the wood, wine glass in his hand, taking a swig of the blood red liquid, smirking when he could smell your shampoo.

           You had just gotten out of the shower, following a massive dinner he had made, and then proceeded to have you as dessert, right there on the table. Your hands roamed up his massive back, one hand trailing over his shoulder to grip his chest, while the other wrapped around his tummy. Trapped in a hug from the back, you kissed the freckle right between his shoulder blades.

           “Mmm,” you hummed and took a big breath of his skin, the hand on his tummy trailing down to his happy trail, scratching at the hair. He took in a sharp breath as your fingers danced softly on his skin.

           Before you knew it, he had turned to face you, holding you around the waist.

           “Easssy, tiger,” he kissed your forehead. You pouted in protest and he smiled, setting his wine glass down on the ledge behind him, standing to his feet.

           “I can’t help it”, you started placing wet kisses on his chest, scratching your nails up his back. Your kisses kept dropping lower, your leg jut out behind you and you were about to get on your knees when he grabbed your elbow and pulled you back to your feet. Another pout adorned your lips and he full out laughed this time, kissing your lips.

           “Needy girl, are you?” he was still smiling softly, biting his lip, “not out here, baby,” he lovingly pulled you into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. His back hit the door and you wasted no time pressing more kisses to his chest as you heard an ‘oof’ leave his chest from your gentle push, un-wrapping the tie of your robe, kissing the spot right under his neck, your hands dancing on the waistband of his sweats.

           “Slow down, slow down,” he giggled a bit between your kisses to his nose and his mouth, both of your hands gripping his bum under his pants, “M’right here, not goin’ anywhere for a little while,” he assured you, but you didn’t care. He was yours, and yours to worship, and you were planning on doing that. Every second you got.

           “I have a surprise,” you finally mumbled out on his neck, squeezing his ass.

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anonymous asked:

I love your writing! Could I request a fic please? Where McCree has a secret fiancé, living somewhere safe and reminding him that he has something to live for? But the remaining Deadlock members find her and kidnap her? And she's terrified when she realizes how much they hate Jesse and how they're willing to do anything to her in order to hurt him.

((A/N - I did this in Blackwatch era if that’s okay! It made more sense as Deadlock was more recent and oh my goodness gracious me I got so carried away with it I love writing McCree as a hero oosh. Might have to upload to AO3!))

“Please be safe.”
“I always am, doll.”

You stood on your toes to be able to press your lips against his. His rough, chapped lips that you were forever telling him to put lip balm on. You saw Jesse out the door, waving to him as set off down the road towards the Overwatch base. You twirled your engagement ring on your finger, a thin gold band that had a set of three diamonds with the middle one being slightly larger.

Jesse had proposed to you last year. You had known him since his days in the Deadlock gang, only because he used to frequent the diner you worked at. On more than one occasion he had bought you a strawberry milkshake or paid for your favourite song to be played on the jukebox. You were always careful though. You never became too close for the fear of doing something wrong which might anger him or the gang. You always accepted his compliments with a smile, and politely refused his requests to go dancing after work. It was only ever him that visited, saying what you had was a little secret, sealed with a wink.

Overwatch had then infiltrated Route 66, tearing apart the gang and luckily giving Jesse another chance at life to do good in the world. Knowing that neither of you were in any more danger, he proposed to you then and there. He constantly complimented you on your accent, your style, your pretty eyes. You had only moved to the little town a couple of years prior. He had of course sweetened you up and you accepted. You were his rock, and he was your charming cowboy.


“Honey, I’m home!” Jesse jokingly sang out as he sauntered through the front door.

You greeted him with a smile and a peck on the cheek. With what Jesse was earning working in the Blackwatch division under Overwatch, there was no need for you to carry on working at the diner. You had your own little ranch on the outskirts of town. You spent your days cleaning, cooking, sewing, ironing, being kept hidden..

“Did you tell them today, sweetie?” You held your hands in front of you, an expectant look on your face.

Jesse’s furrowed brow and sigh told you everything. Your engagement was a secret. A secret from your family, friends, and Overwatch.

“That’s.. fine.”
 You turned away from him, heading back into the kitchen to finish up the stew.

“Darlin’, it’s not fine.”
“So why can’t you tell them? Why can’t I tell them? Why can’t I tell anyone?”

You span on your heels to look at him and crossed your arms. Jesse’s eyes widened at your sudden anger. He understood your frustrations, he really did. It just seemed for however long you two has known each other everything between you had to be a secret.

“There are… Complications.”
“Such as?”

Jesse sighed and took his hat off, moving round to sit on the sofa and patting the seat next to him. You precariously followed suit, back stiff and perched on the edge of the seat.

“Yes? What about them?”
“With Overwatch being close by, they’re gettin’ a bit antsy. Since they, well, arrested half o’ their men they didn’t take too kindly to it. Doll, the base isn’t even the direction that I head off to in the morning. I have to do that in case I’m bein’ followed.”

Your shoulders tensed slightly.

“Being followed..?”
“They’re not the nicest o’ gangs and they try to keep tabs on people. Whether they know that I was given’ a second chance.. I don’t know.”

You looked at him. He was staring at the carpet, eyes drawn to a particular out of place thread. He fiddled with the hat in his hands.

“Which is why I have to keep us a secret.” Jesse slowly said.

You nodded, taking the hat from his hands and walking around the sofa to place it on a coathook. You hadn’t realised he was following you until you turned around and bumped into him.

“(Y/N), you are my home. You always have been. If anythin’ were t'happen’ to ya..”

You leant forwards onto his chest, him then covering you with his arms. He of course smelt like cigars, gunpowder and coffee. You were his home, and he was yours.

You pulled back slightly so you could look up into his chocolate eyes, etched with concern.

“I love you, Jesse McCree.”

He broke into a smile and picked you up, twirling you around.

“I love you too, (Y/N).”


The next day went off without a hitch, you said your farewells and began preparing food for dinner.

Knock. Knock.

You frowned. Wiping your hands clean on a teatowel you lightly stepped over to the front door, peering through the peephole. Two young men dressed in black stood cockishly on your porch. You weren’t supposed to have any visitors today. You weren’t supposed to have any visitors, full stop.

You hooked the metal chain onto the door, so when it opened there was only a tiny crack you could see through. Better to be safe than sorry.

“May I help you, at all?”

“Is McCree here?” The one on the right spat.

“Erm, who? I think you may have the wrong ranch.”

Your heart was racing. Jesse had prepared you for this, to feign ignorance if anyone came asking for him.

“Your fiancé?”

You blanched. You tried to slam the door closed but one put their foot in the way. You grunted, and ran towards where you kept your shotgun in the cupboard under the stairs. You’d never had to use it before, but being so far out in the open you constantly had wild beasts and trespassers roaming your lands, you had to threaten them somehow.

You aimed it at the door, preparing for the worst when a crack shot through the air and your front windows were shattered. You held your hand up to your face to shelter from the flying glass, a few shards managing to scrape across your palm.

“Don’t come any closer.” You threatened. You inwardly cursed yourself at how weak you sounded. You emphasised by jabbing the shotgun in the direction of the window.

“Why, miss, we don’t want to hurt you.”

The two intruders stepped through the shattered pane, pointing revolvers at you and grinning wolfishly. Your breathing quickened. Your eyes scanned around the room, while slowly stepping back. You needed an exit route, and you needed one now.

“Just tell us where McCree is and we won’t have to put a bullet between your pretty eyes.”

They were stalking towards you, every step you took back they took one forward. The gun in your hands was shaking. You cocked it and aimed at their feet, firing which sent a whirlwind of wood splinters into the air.

This gave you a few mere seconds to sprint out of the living room, into the kitchen and out the back door. You heard cursing from the strangers and then heavy footsteps of them chasing you. You rounded the corner and pressed your back against the warm wooden slats, gun poised to whack the butt into one of their heads as they came round.

They never came round. You were sure they were following you. You frowned, peeking out to see if they were still there. They weren’t.

Treading carefully and aiming your shotgun, you stepped around the corner to look by the back door.

“Checkmate, princess.”

Something cold and hard pressed against the back of your neck. You shuddered out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. You stared blankly ahead into the desert, dropping the gun on the ground and raising your open hands to shoulder height.

Gravelly footsteps made their way so the one that had originally spoken to you was standing in front of you.

“Wild one, she is.”
“No wonder McCree went for her.” The one behind you sniggered.

You narrowed your eyes at the one in front, who was now pointing his gun at your chest.

“Don’t try anythin’ funny, sweetheart.” He smiled sickly sweet at you, and then nodded at the one behind you.

A rag soaked in something sweet and alcoholic covered your nose and mouth, making you cry out. You scrabbled at the man’s hands by your face, hearing him wince from where you cut him with your nails. He was relentless. Trying to struggle made you breath in more sharply and quickly, which you didn’t realise was helping their cause. Your hands became fuzzy, knees weak and vision blurring.

“Sleep tight.” They chuckled.

Everything went black.


“Why ain’t she pickin’ up..”

Jesse scowled at his burner phone, the number he had been ringing going to voicemail. He wanted to let you know that he was going to be home early today, as he’d managed to get a half day off and he could help you cook dinner as an apology for yesterday.

He scuffed his way through the long grass, the heat forming sweat droplets on the back of his neck.

He frowned. Tyre tracks by the front of your ranch. You weren’t supposed to have visitors. Feeling uneasy, Jesse unholstered his peacekeeper. Before he had made it to the front of the house, he could see that the front window had been smashed in and the door was slightly ajar.

Oh no.

“(Y/N)? You home, doll?”

He peaked in through the window and saw glass everywhere. Two pairs of dusty footprints by window making their way towards- blood? He stepped through the wooden pane on high alert for any signs there’s someone still in the house. It was deathly silent.

Jesse crouched when he made it to the doorway to the kitchen, picking up a shard of glass that definitely had blood on it.

Well, shit.

He quickly put his earpiece in and channeled it to the base.

“McCree to Watchpoint 66.”
“McCree. Reyes here.”
“I need your help.”


Your head was pounding. Your palm stung. Your breathing was rattling, as though you were dehydrated. Your neck ached from where it was hanging awkwardly, a stray hair tickling your nose. You tried to reach up to brush it out of the way and scratch your nose. You tensed your arms when you realised you couldn’t, something rough had bound your wrists together behind your back. Your eyes shot open. Your vision was blurry, trying to adjust to the dim lit room. You looked down and realised you had been bound to a wooden chair. Trying to cry out for help, you realised a cloth of some sort was drawn tightly across your mouth. Glancing down, even your ankles were tied together from what you could see with rough hemp rope. You tried to regulate your breathing, air heavily leaving your nose.

Your head shot up when the rickety door swung open, a dark figure standing in the doorway.

“She’s awake.” The voice rumbled, nodding to someone else in the hallway.

The figure stepped over the threshold towards you. You tensed up, drawing in a sharp breath and head held high.

He wore dark leather trousers and a billowing cream top, almost like an old fashioned pirate. He grabbed your jaw with his calloused hand, forcing you to look up towards his shadowed face.

“So you’re the one that Jesse McCree has fallen for. A pretty lil’ thing, huh.”

He had the same southern accent as Jesse, albeit more menacing. He turned your head to the side, losing eye contact. Only spending a minute with this savage and he’s already made you feel like a piece of meat up for inspection. He leaned in close, lips hesitating over your ear.

“Do ya love him, sweetpea?”

You shut your eyes, tears squeezing out the corners and you drew in a shuddering breath.

Answer me.”

You nodded your head, him only being satisfied when he let his grip go off your face and moved back. You bowed your head, wondering how you got into this situation. Wondering what Jesse’s reaction would be when he saw how ransacked your house was. Wondering about Jesse.

“Don’t cry. I di'n’t mean to make ya cry.”

He gently wiped away a streaming tear, his touch as soft as a lover’s. You glanced at his tan hand that was so close to your cheek. He took his hand back and thwack. His right hand struck your cheek, snapping your head to the right and hair falling over your face. The pain brought a fresh batch of waterworks, sobs choking in your throat.

A dark chuckle escaped from your captor. He pulled up another wooden chair from the darkness and sat down.

“D'ya know how long we’ve been lookin’ for that mutt?”

You shook your head, learning quickly it’s better to play along.

Too long. After that darned Overwatch took half o’ my men we wanted to fight. Obviously we didn’t have enough manpower. When we learnt that ingrate was alive and workin’ for them? Hoo, that’s a whole ‘nother story.”

He leant back in the chair, his right ankle coming up to rest on his left knee.

“I had my men follow him. That Overwatch weren’t pretty smart to keep an ex-Deadlock member livin’ on Route 66 were they? He tried to be clever. Sent them on a fox hunt, he did. Until one day we finally caught him going back to ya nice lil’ ranch out back. Seein’ you greet him at the door warmed my heart, I must say.”

Your eyes widened.

“He had a lil’ missy and he was keepin’ her secret from the world. Well, I wonder why that is? That Jesse McCree had snagged himself somethin’ real nice and didn’t wanna share her. We thought we could do him the favor. We could let him know how much he hurt us, at the same time hurtin’ him.”

You frowned at this. They wanted to hurt him? By hurting you?

The stranger leant forwards placing a hand on your knee.

“Don’t worry, doll. We only want to let him know how big o’ a mistake he made when he betrayed us.“  He stood up, stalking around to the back of your chair and placed his hands heavily on your shoulders. "You are the key.”

You shuddered under his grasp, your entire body shivering at the thought of what they, or he, were going to do to you.


“Jesse, you need to calm-”
I am calm.” Jesse seethed.
“Well then get your hand off of my desk.”

Jesse looked down, his nails digging into the wood creating splints on Gabriel’s desk. He grunted, flumping himself into the chair opposite Reyes and hiding his dark eyes behind his hands.

“She’s out there somewhere and we’re sittin’ here doin’ nothin’. She could be hurt or dyin’ or-”
Don’t. Don’t you dare say it. Jesse, we will find her. I promise.”


You don’t know how long it had been. They would occasionally bring in water and sludge for what they called food. They had to feed you, this being the only time they would ungag you. Your wrists were chafed from being constantly bound, your ankles only released when you needed to relieve yourself. You had lost all energy to fight. It didn’t help that every now and then they would rough you up.

Your head ached, there was dried blood crackling by your nostril and you were sure your ribs were either cracked or majorly bruised. Breathing became a struggle, it was all you could focus on.

They didn’t seem to care about information about Jesse. All Deadlock wanted to do was hurt you. Hurt you so they could hurt him.

The door creaked open, you flinching at the light that shone through the doorway. You were tired and you wanted to give up. It was the man that you had first seen when you were taken.

“Looks like he’s given up lookin’ for ya, doll.” He smirked. “There’s been no word for.. Oh. Four days now.”

You stared blankly at the floor by his feet; you wouldn’t have given him a reaction even if you could. He walked over to you, holding something in his hand that glinted against the light.

“I think it’s time to.. Up the pace. Don’t you think, sweetheart?”

Only then did you look at him properly, studying what he had in his hand. A knife. You tried to shrink into your chair, worried eyes passing between the knife and his shadowed face. A swift strike and the blade was plunged into your thigh, blood seeping out from around the edges. You shut your eyes and let out a muffled cry, pain blinding your vision.

“Good girl. I made sure t'record that one. I’ll send it to ya fiancé and let him know how ya doin’.”

You breathed in deeply through your nose, tears now running freely down your cheeks and you trying to hold back sobs. You’d never known pain like this before.

He pulled the knife from its warm confines to wipe on his trousers, your blood running down onto the floorboards. He twirled the knife in his hands, looking like a predator wondering where he was going to make his next strike. You pleaded with your eyes as much as you could, you couldn’t take much more. You’d fantasized about being back at home, in your bed, with Jesse.

You didn’t know how strong your threshold was for pain but you knew you weren’t going to last long if they started torturing you for the hell of it.

“Com'ere, doll.” He grabbed your throat, leaning in dangerously close.

He passed the blade down the side of your face, making a deep cut down your cheekbone. You could feel blood trickling down, just adding to the list of injuries you had. He tightened his grip around your neck, digging his fingers in which would no doubt leave some lovely purple splotches.

An earthy rumble echoed through the building. Your captor looked at you in concern then span around to face the doorway. He moved around you, behind your chair and pulled your hair so your neck was on show. A loud crash and then suddenly there were three people all in dark clothing looking through the doorway where a rickety door has once stood.

“Long time, no see, McCree.” The man said, now pushing the blade against your bare throat.

“Get your dirty hands off of her, Max.”


You whimpered, struggling in your bounds on the chair. The grip in your hair tightened, making you take a short breath and changing your view so all you could see was the ceiling.

“You ain’t in a position to tell me what to do, Jesse. Unless you want your sweetheart’s blood spewin’ everywhere. Say, how does it feel? To have somethin’ you love taken away from ya?”

“Let her go.” A voice you didn’t recognise said.

“Uh uh. Not until the lil’ rat here understand what Overwatch did to my gang. And how betrayed I felt when I learnt he’d gone off gallavantin’ with ya.”

You could feel the blade dig in deeper, droplets beginning to form. The pain in your leg was excruciating.

“She’s got nothin’ to do with that.”

Your breathing was becoming heavier, the tightness by your throat and the general aches and pains from your leg, ribs, cheek and hair were becoming too much for you. The room became incredibly warm, your hands and feet becoming tingly and limp and eyes drifting shut.

“Looks like she’s already given’ up, Jesse. You’re too late.”

You heard a muffled crack in the air before you let yourself drift off.



You leaned into the touch of someone stroking your hair back from your face. You stirred, eyes shooting open and breathing increasing from what you last remembered.

“(Y/N), it’s okay. You’re safe.”

You quickly scanned the area and all you could see was white. White ceiling, white walls, white bed. Bed. You turned to where the voice came from and there was Jesse. Your Jesse that had come to save you, perched on the edge of the chair waiting anxiously. You leaned back onto the cushy pillows and let out a sigh. You glanced him over. His beard was more scraggly and under his eyes were dark. You held out your hand towards him, him instantly taking it in his grasp and holding you tightly. His thumb rubbed over your engagement ring.

“Jesse..” You croaked.
“Stop. (Y/N), I’m so sorry.” His voice sounded gravelly, broken. “I thought I could protect you.”

You squeezed his hand in reply, trying not to say anything which could damage your throat.

“I should'a been more careful. I should'a done what you said and told them about us. They could’ve protected you more than what I could.”

You frowned at this.

“No, Jesse-”
“I did this to ya. I wouldn’t be surprised if you up and left me.” He covered his face with his free hand, rubbing his forehead.

You retreated your hand slightly before slapping him on the wrist.

“Don’t you dare. You rescued me. What’s done is done but we’re here now. Safe.”

He peeked at you through his fingers, brown eyes meeting yours. A small smile formed on his lips before darting around your face and taking in what Deadlock had really done to you. It faded.

“Wounds heal, Jesse.” You reassured, catching on to what he was looking at. “I never doubted for a second you wouldn’t come for me.”

“Could'n'ta done it without Reyes.”
“I’m sure he’s lovely.”
“He’s the one that took me in after Deadlock.”
“Even more so.”

Jesse relaxed a bit, glad to see that you had woken up and hadn’t changed a bit.

“So I’m guessing Overwatch know about us then, huh?”

He nodded.

“I had to.”
“Not under the best circumstances.”
“I wish it could’ve been better.”

You turned your head towards him so you were facing him fully. You grabbed his hand that was still laying on your pristine sheets with both hands, bringing it up to kiss his knuckles. You hesitantly glanced down at your wrists, ropeburn clearly showing.

“I love you, Jesse McCree. Don’t you ever forget or think that anything will come in between that.”

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

anonymous asked:

Hey <3 I really liked your Seventeen as Neighbors especially the Joshua one. Can I request Mark Jb and Jinyoung as neighbors?

i don’t write for got7 but i did a jinyoung neighbor thing for the au game so,,,
also they all look really good recently,,,,,gosh i love got7 

Jinyoung’s can be found here –> (x)


  • doesn’t really speak all that often, but is really polite. as in, to older tenants he always bows respectfully, to people his age he always smiles and nods, and to the kids he’s just super sweet bending down to ruffle their hair and laugh at whatever they tell him
  • and like he’s really athletic like you never see him use the elevator, he always runs up the stairs even though his apartments on the 10th floor 
  • the building you live in also has a park right across the street and if you wake up early enough you can look out of your window and see mark working out, doing pull ups on the monkey bars and whatnot
  • (sometimes in the summer he does this shirtless and let’s just say you’re not the only person looking out of their window completely mesmerized LOL)
  • has a cross on his door along with a little sticker of the taiwanese flag which were all sent to him in his first care package from his parents when he moved in alone
  • he’s really casual, you can see that in the way he dresses mainly in basketball shorts and hoodies, but his apartment is just the same. as in he’s got like no actual decorations in his apartment just work out equipment, his computer, and his bed,,,,
  • like he’s got photos of his family hung  up on the refrigerator but like ,,,, a proper table? nope. a wardrobe? don’t need it. a mirror? the bathroom has one don’t need another one LOL
  • and there’s another thing about mark,,,,he really ,,,,doesn’t know how to do laundry properly
  • and you’ve noticed this because you guys both do laundry really late and you’ve bumped into him a few times and every damn time you see him putting his lights and darks together and forgetting to change the waters temperature
  • and one day you see him standing there, looking down at a pair of jeans and you’re like “they shrunk didn’t they?” and he turns around to look at you and he’s like “how did you know?” and you’re like “because,,,,,you always put your jeans in hot water,,,,,you shouldn’t do that,,,,”
  • and marks like what you can change the temperature of the water?? and you’re like boy,,,,,,so you go over and carefully explain what all buttons on the machine are actually used for and mark sheepishly confesses that he thought everything was just good in its default setting and you’re like unfortunately,,,,no 
  • and you start putting your own clothes in and mark goes over to the dryer and once again begins to just dump everything in there
  • and you hurry over like “no for this you also need to sort everything out-”
  • and before you know it you’re back to explaining 
  • and mark listens, nodding along but then you make the mistake of looking up at him while you’re talking and he’s got his lips parted, tongue peeking out because he’s really concentrated on what you’re saying
  • and he looks,,,,,,so good and if you shift your eyes just a bit you’ll notice that the shirt he’s wearing is pretty loose and you know there’s his chest-
  • and you’re like “hand dry- dry - dry - dry,,,,” you basically stutter and have to catch yourself
  • and mark meets your eyes and sees your cheeks are red and he doesn’t even have to know why he just stands up straight and gives you a grin like “should i zip up my jacket, is it that distracting?”
  • and you’re like ASFDHJLDA what nOO,,,um,,,,,,as- as i was saying-
  • and mark laughs and you’re like oh god im so embarrassed 
  • but he’s like not laughing /at/ you he’s just like he thinks you’re really cute getting sidetracked by him
  • and he’s like “keep going, im listening” and when you’re done you’re like,,,,im gonna go,,,,hurry over and do my own laundry and maybeneverlookyouintheeyesagain
  • but before you do mark is like “let me thank you-”
  • and you’re like there’s no need, really but then he does something that makes you hide your face he lifts the hem of his jacket and shirt just a bit to flash his stomach and you’re like WHAT,,,,,and he bursts into laughter again
  • before apologizing and he’s like “sorry, sorry teasing you is just really fun - you look cute, but i mean it let me thank you by taking you to dinner sometime?”
  • and you’re like ,,,,,,,o,,,,,,ok,,,,,but seriously mark tuan keep your shirt on from now on
  • and marks like lmaooo ok but are you sure you don’t want another peek- and you’re like do nOT make me throw this detergent bottle at you


  • has the prettiest pet cat that always sits by the window and waits for jb to come home 
  • and sometimes you see it when you pass by and she’s so pretty,,,with bright blue eyes and you wave but then get embarrassed because PLEASE she’s a cat she can’t wave back
  • jb’s an avid reader but he keeps all his books in stacks on the floor of his living room and bedroom and he doesn’t have a proper bed, just a lay out futon 
  • and his kitchen, the places where you should be storing like plates and what not - full of books,,,,,like he eats out at the restaurants near the building and sometimes just lives off triangle kimbap for a week
  • he doesn’t really decorate but he does sometimes tear out a photo from a magazine of a pretty place like the forest or the amazon and puts it up because he likes nature
  • the problem is when youngjae gifted him a plant ,,,,he over-watered it and it died
  • now jb can’t live with the regret of hurting another plant so he just puts up photos LOL
  • and you know him on like a casual basis ,, like you both are the youngest people on your floor and also like you guys sometimes see each other at the local take-out places so it’s like on a hi/how are you/bye basis
  • but you,,,,,,really like jb
  • if not for the fact that he has a cat LOL but also like you like his personality because although on the surface he sometimes seems so stoic you’ve seen his warm smile, the one that comes out when he feeds stray animals or  is really immersed in a book
  • and you’ve seen him walk into trees and poles because he can’t pick his nose up from his book
  • and you’re like how can someone so undeniably, inhumanly handsome ,,,,,,be such a goofy person,,,,,,
  • but also whenever your eyes meet jb’s, even when you just say good morning to each other in passing, your heart speeds up and you just can’t,,,,,,you can’t do anything but look away in embarrassment 
  • until you find yourself walking home in horrible rain, muttering that the wind is so strong and that your bags going to get wet but you stop because in front of you is jb,,,,
  • jb on his knees in the middle of the street, hastily shoving things into his bag and under his arm and you step closer to see that someones abandoned a crate of old books outside of their doorstep
  • and jb is desperately trying to get them all out before the rain soaks them through
  • but he’s also wearing nothing but a long sleeved t-shirt so his back is drenched in rain and with this wind,,,,you’re worried he’ll catch a cold
  • so you come closer, leaning the umbrella you’re holding over jb so it covers him too and he notices, looking up in surprise and you meet his eyes and !!!! you apologize for coming over you just didn’t want him to get anymore wet
  • and just shakes his head and tells you that you should hurry home because the rain is getting worse 
  • but you stand there and wait as jb tries to get all the books and you use your free hand to put some in your own bag to help
  • and you don’t see but the corner of jb’s lips pull up into a small smile and once he has gathered all the books he’s like “let’s run so we get home quickly”
  • and you try to keep the umbrella up high but sometimes it knocks jb’s temple, but he doesn’t complain, he’s so thankful for you but you keep squeaking out apologizes like oh my god,,,, and he’s like no no it’s nothing
  • and once you’re indoors, jb shuffling around for his key he asks if you’d want to come in maybe,,,,,since you also are carrying some of the books 
  • and when you do you’re a bit shocked by how many books there really are and you’re just like ,,,,giggling because there’s empty coffee mugs balancing on books and there’s cat toys everywhere and uneven photos of flowers on the wall and like
  • you look at jb, whose trying to tidy up and stutters that he has no tea is water ok?? and you’re like “i won’t stay lon-”
  • but then the cat comes out and curiously weaves its way between your legs - meowing and jb’s like “you can pet her, she’s asking you to”
  • and you lean down, hand trembling a bit but the cat just nudges your palm with her head and your heart is EXPLODING because she’s so CUTE AND SOFT and 
  • jb is like laughing all of a sudden and you look over like ??? and he’s like “not to be rude, but you’re literally glowing - i didn’t know you liked cats so much” and you’re like “i like your cat so much, she’s so gorgeous”
  • and jb blushes like you just complimented him and not the cat but it’s cute he’s like “,,,,,yeah she is,,,,,pretty,,,,,”
  • and you sit down, the cat making a comfortable home in your lap and jb comes over to pass you a mug with water and you’re like “i don’t want to overstay, but she’s,,,,she’s asleep,,,,,,i don’t want to get up-” and jb is like “it’s fine no you can stay!” and he leans over to drag over the books he brought
  • and you notice how he’s still wearing his wet shirt and you’re like “um,,”
  • but then he looks at you and you freeze again because his eyes are such a deep brown, so clear that the light makes them look almost like stars, and your words get caught in your throat
  • and he’s like ?? and you’re like “s-s-s-shirt your- shirt is,,,,,wet,,,,,,,cold,,,,,,you’ll catch one,,,” and jb reddens a bit and he’s like oh let me go change,,,,
  • and you guys are both blushing now and you distract yourself by picking up a random book until jb comes back in another shirt and it’s like
  • you two are so awkward, but somehow like there’s something really cute and jb mentions that his cat doesn’t grow fond of people so quickly but with you it’s different
  • and when she finally wakes up, skipping out of your lap and walking over to find food you say your goodbyes but jb is like one sec
  • and he comes back with your umbrella and he’s like you almost forgot it here and you’re like “you should keep it!! you don’t have one do you” and he’s like howd you know 0: and you’re like “you don’t have much in your apartment,,,keep it,,,,”
  • and jb hesitates but smiles and thanks you but right as you leave through the door he goes 
  • “come back soon, i think my cat will miss you.” (he’ll miss you too) 
Just How I Like It

Author: smutandahalf

Characters: Reader x Stiles x Isaac


Word Count: 2,768

Originally posted by m-atilda

           I glance up at her, scribbling in her notebook, and her tongue is peeking out of the corner of her mouth slightly.

           Isaac comes up behind her, whispering something in her ear and she looks startled. She jumps in her chair, slamming her notebook closed before shoving it away from her slightly.      

           “So what have you found so far?” He asks me and I look up quickly.

           “Nothing. I’ve found nothing, absolutely nothing.” I grumble in irritation while tugging at my hair in frustration. “What about you, Y/N? Did you find anything useful? You’ve been writing in your notebook non-stop for like an hour.”

           “Oh, just a few things, possible ideas. Nothing too useful yet, definitely nothing share worthy.” She say quickly, inching her fingers towards her notebook that’s made its way closer to my side of the table. “Anyways, I just remembered that my mom needed me to go run some errands while she’s at work so I’m just going to go.”

           She grabs the notebook quickly and stuff it into her backpack before swinging the bag over her shoulder and leave the library before I even have time to say goodbye.

           “Well, someone seems a little jumpy.” Isaac remarks, raising an eyebrow at her empty seat and I shrug, pulling my notebook towards me. “Alright well Scott and I are going to go and see if we can catch the Alpha pack’s scent so I’ll catch you later.” He adds, getting up from his seat, and I nod at him in farewell.

           I flip the notebook open and am greeted with Y/N’s neat handwriting. My eyebrows furrow in confusion, wondering if maybe she added some things into my notebook to combine out notes together.

           He slides a finger into her, his thumb rubbing against her clit and she throws her head back. “Fuck, right there Stiles,” She says, moaning in satisfaction.

           I scan along the page, reading a few sentences here and there and my face flushes immediately when I see my name, and my dick tightens in response.

           Holy shit. I think to myself when I realize what I was holding in my hand. Y/N hadn’t been doing research for the past hour, she’d been writing smut. My eyes scan down along the page again, reading a bit more and I shift in my seat; very, very detailed smut. I take a shaky breath before shoving everything into my backpack and rushing out of the library to my car, anxious to head home and read the rest of the holy grail that I’ve stumbled on.


           I search through my backpack frantically, dumping everything out on to the floor desperately looking for my notebook. Finally I find it, flipping it open and all I see if a messy scrawl scribbled all over the pages. A sense of panic surges through me as I stare at the endless notes on possible leads and various supernatural creatures that could be in Beacon Hills. I bite my lip, trying to breathe in slowly, desperately trying to contain my freak out. This is Stiles’ notebook, and if I have his notebook then that means that he more than likely has mine and I hope to God he hasn’t opened it yet.

           I grab my keys off of my desk and run down the stairs of my house. I’m out the front door and in the driver’s seat of my car within a minute. I pull out of the driveway and make my way to Stiles’ as quickly as possible. I pull up in front of his house, jumping out of the car and slamming the door behind me.

           I’m panting slightly when I get to the front door, banging against the wood loudly. I tap my foot anxiously, waiting for Stiles to open the door. Finally, the door budges and I see Stiles staring back at me in surprise.


           “I have your notebook, figured you might need it.” I say quickly, holding it up to show him and he quirks an eyebrow at me.

           “Come on in.” He turns away from the door and I hurry in behind him, turning to close the door.

           “Right so you probably didn’t even notice you had the wrong notebook,” I start to say as the door clicks shut and he presses up against me, pushing my chest tightly against the door. His hands smoothing over my hips as he moves my hair away from my neck and presses a few soft kisses to the skin there and I feel like I’m going to melt. “Stiles, what are you doing?” I ask breathlessly and it comes out in a soft moan and my head falls back against his shoulder.

           “Nothing,” He whispers against me, his tongue tracing patterns against my skin before tugging my earlobe in between his teeth. “Just let it happen.”

           I try to convince myself to pull away from him, to stop this and find out why he’s doing this, but all I can think about is how good his hands feel against my body. He slides his hands up, cupping my breasts in his hands, squeezing them gently and I let out a mewl of pleasure. I can feel him harden as he presses roughly against me, his erection digging into my hip before he turns me around to face him.

           I look at his face, searching for answers but all I can see are his eyes dark with lust; staring back at me as if he had been wandering the desert and I was the only thing that could quench his thirst.

           His hips press against mine as he leans towards me, pausing for a moment just millimeters from my lips, flicking his gaze up to meet mine as if to see if I’m going to stop his and I bite my lip unintentionally. A look of pure lust washes over his face and a low growl escapes from this back of his throat before he slams his lips against mine. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he grabs the back of my thighs, lifting me up as if I weight nothing. I lock my legs around his waist and he keeps me pressed tightly against the wall, pinning me there.

           He tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth, sucking on it and I moan against his lips. He uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, battling against mine before exploring the inside of my mouth as if he wants to taste every inch of me. My hands make there way from the nape of his neck into his hair and I fist my hands into his messy brown hair, causing him to groan in appreciation.

           He holds onto me tightly, walking us up the stairs, his lips never disconnecting from mine. When we get up to the second floor he makes his way across the hall, kicking the door to him room open. He drops me onto his bed and I lie there panting slightly.

           “Stiles,” I whisper, still trying to catch my breath and his lips are on mine again, silencing me. His begins kissing along my jaw and down my neck and I tilt my head to allow him better access. “We need to talk about this.” I say, barely able to get the words out before I moan again.

           “No we don’t,” He mumbles against me, “Think about it later.”

           He continues kissing down my neck, pulling down the collar of my t-shirt before planting a few soft kisses along my clavicles, and tracing his tongue along where the bone is visible. His hands slip under my t-shirt, his warm hands caressing up my stomach before he tugs it over my head.

           Once my shirt is off he looks at me in awe, my bra pushing up my breasts making them swell, and he begins tracing his thumbs over the simple black lace. He nips gently at the newly exposed skin, sliding his tongue down along the valley of my breasts and I whimper. I arch my back and his hands reach around me to unclasp my bra and pull it off of me.

           “Holy shit, you’re fucking gorgeous.” He groans and I can feel a blush coloring my face. He presses his hands against my chest, kneeding my breasts and I can feel my nipples harden under his hands. He takes a hardened peak into his mouth, sucking on it and I moan, dragging my hand through his hair before pressing his face tightly against me. “You’re tits are fucking perfect.” He rasps, his voice thick with lust as he takes my other nipple in his mouth and all I can do is moan in response.

           “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He moans, trailing open mouth kisses down my stomach and I whimper. In one smooth motion he’s pulled my skirt and panties down, leaving me bare to him. I shiver as the cold air hits my core where wetness is quickly pooling.

           He sucks roughly against my hip, leaving a dark purple mark before repeating the same action on the other side. His lips work over the inside of my thighs and I squirm in anticipation of him getting to where I need him most. Slowly, his mouth moves nearer and nearer to my core.

           “Stiles, please,” I plead, my need for him mixing with desperation.

           “What’s wrong baby girl?” He breathes against me and I shudder at the feeling of his hot breath against my center. “Tell me what you need.”

           “Anything,” I whimper, begging him, “Please just do anything.”

           He sticks his tongue out, licking slowly along my slit from my core to my clit and I shudder against him. He continues sliding his tongue along me languidly, as if he has all the time in the world and it feels like complete torture. I buck my hips against him, desperate for more, and he uses his hands to hold my thighs down as he continues his sweet torture.

           He swirls his tongue around my bundle of nerves and I let out a loud gasp, my head lurching forward as my back arches off of the bed. “You taste so fucking sweet,” He mumbles against my core, sending vibrations shooting through me and I writhe against him. He slides a finger into me, keeping rhythm with his tongue and my eyes roll back into my head at the sensation.

           “Won’t you make some more of those pretty noises I love so much, baby girl?” He asks, curling his fingers inside of me to hit that perfect spot and I let out a loud moan. He pulls his fingers out of me, reaching them out to my lips, offering to me and I open my mouth slightly. He slips his fingers into my mouth and I slide my tongue around them, sucking against his fingers and he looks at me, his mouth slightly wide.

           “Holy fuck that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” He says, returning his mouth to my core and I wrap my legs around his head. He continues licking, sucking, and flicking his tongue over me, making it impossible for me to contain my moans when he pulls away from me suddenly and I whimper at the loss of contact.

           He pulls me towards him, pressing his lips to mine, slipping his tongue inside of my mouth and I can taste myself on him. I capture his tongue with my lips and suck on it, making him moan against my mouth. His moan triggers something in me and I tear his clothes off of him. His shirt goes flying across the room as I tug at his pants and boxers, throwing them to the floor once they’re off of him.

           His erection springs up proudly and my eyes widen slightly. I grasp his length in my hands and lets out a sharp intake of breath. I lick a stripe up along the underside of his cock before swirling my tongue around his tip and he moans, his eyes fluttering closed. I take him into my mouth, sliding him all the way to the back of my throat and he thrusts hard against my mouth. I bob my head against him, hollowing out my cheeks and I slide him in and out of my throat, pressing my tongue along a prominent veins and he shudders.

           “Your mouth feels so good, baby girl,” He groans and I moan at the nickname. The sound sends vibrations shuddering through him and he bucks his hips against me. I pull him out of my mouth slowly, sliding my hand up and down his length, pumping his firmly before taking his length back fully into my mouth. “I’m going to come,” He pants and I can feel him twitching in my mouth before a warm liquid trickles into the back of my throat and he throws his head back as his orgasm crashes over him. I slide my tongue along him, licking ever drop of his release before pulling him out of my mouth with a pop.

           “Fuck, I knew you had a wicked mouth but I didn’t realize you could do that,” He pants and I smirk at him. He pulls me towards him, flipping us so that I’m underneath him. “Don’t worry baby girl, I’m going to take good care of you.” He whispers against the shell of my ear, pumping his cock a few times before lining himself up with my entrance.

           He slides into me, slowly, and I moan loudly. “You’re so fucking tight.” He breathes out in a pant as he slides out of me and back in and I whimper.

           “Fuck, Stiles, I need you.” I say, wrapping my legs around his hips and he begins pounding into me. I lift my hips up in rhythm to his thrusts, making it to where he hits that perfect spot deep within me every time and I drag my nails roughly down his back. He holds onto the headboard tightly with one hand, the leverage allowing him to thrust even more deeply into me.

           I can feel the pressure building inside of me, a fine sheen of sweat lining his forehead as he continue to slam into me. I look up at him through half lidded eyes, and he flips us again so that I’m straddling him. I roll my hips against him, riding him quickly and he one hand against my breast while the other hand is quickly rubbing against my clit, quickly bringing me closer and closer to my release.

           “F-fuck, yes, just like that, Stiles,” I moan, my voice coming out raspy and he leans up slightly to replace the hand on my breast with his mouth. He sucks on my nipple roughly as he applies more pressure to my bundle of nerves and all at once my orgasm slams into me. I clench around him, throwing my head back and screaming his name repeatedly, as he continues to thrust into me to prolong my orgasm. My orgasm pushes him over the edge and I can feel him twitch inside me as he begins to pulsate. His eyes close tightly as he comes undone underneath me, releasing with a shudder. He slumps back against the bed and I roll off of the top of him trying to capture my breath.

           He wraps his arms around me, pulling me towards him as my chest rises and falls rapidly.

           “Holy shit that was amazing,” I say, my voice barely louder than a breathless whisper, “It’s like you knew just how I like it.”

           “I read your notebook,” He admits guiltily, pressing a kiss to my temple and I choke on a breath.

           “Oh my god you read it?” I ask, embarrassment flooding my face and he lets out a low chuckle.

           “What do you think gave me the courage to make a move?” He asks and I shrug, “Besides, it was probably the most useful research I’ve ever stumbled across.” He adds, capturing my lips with him and I kiss him back passionately.

           “So, can we talk about everything now?” I ask hesitantly and he nuzzles his face into my neck.

           “What’s there to talk about? You’re mine now and forever. You’ve always been mine.” He mumbles against my skin and my heart drops into the pit of my stomach at his words.

           “Just how I like it.” I whisper, cuddling in closer to him, and he presses soft kisses into my neck before pulling a blanket over us.

BTS reactions: You being afraid of elevators.

A/N: I feel you. I am scared of elevators too, like I can’t get into one without having someone I know with me.Don’t be embarrassed or ashamed .we all are afraid of something. I hope you like this and sorry for any mistakes made.

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: “  bts reaction to you having a panic attack ( or you simply being afraid )of/ in elevators ? so you simply refuse and take the stairs . I can’t stand them & I am ashamed of it & embarrassed 😧 


  He will always take the stairs when he is with you. Jin won’t want to leave you all alone. If you were going somewhere very high up and you had to use the elevator, he will pull your attention to himself and start making funny faces to distract you.

Originally posted by bwiseoks

Min Yoongi/Suga: 

  Yoongi will never let you take the stairs alone.If you had to use the elevator no matter what, Yoongi will pull your face into his chest and keep you as close as he can.

Originally posted by jeonsshi

Jung Hoseok/Jhope:

  Hobi will hug you and run his hand through your hair, talking calmly if you were taking the elevator. “Don’t worry princess, I am here with you. I will protect you no matter what. Shhh everything is ok.” If you were taking the stairs he would be with you as well.

Originally posted by chimneytaels

Kim Namjoon/Rap Monster: 

  I feel like he will ask you a lot of questions, trying to find out from where your fear comes. Nonetheless he will take the stairs with you and walk behind so that he can catch you if you trip. If you had to take the elevator no matter what, he will keep making funny faces at you, sending kisses, hearts and acting as absurd as he can. ( ignore the subs :D)

Originally posted by yoongbit

Park Jimin: 

 Like everyone else he will be with you whatever method you decide to go with. If you had to take the elevator to reach the 20th floor or something like that, he will pull you towards him and push your head into his chest. Jimin would place his headphones onto you and play something, so you don’t hear any sounds.

Originally posted by hohbi

Kim Taehyung/V: 

  He will respect your choice, but if you had to go with the elevator, I see him closing your eyes and placing kisses onto your cheeks. Hugging you and starting to sing to distract you.

Originally posted by bwipsul


  Kookie would pick you up and warp your legs around his waist, making sure you have no contact with the elevator whatsoever.He will place his forehead onto yours and try to keep you calm. “Don’t worry jagya.Your strong boyfriend is here to keep you safe.”

Originally posted by hohbi

Staircases: The Subtext in Elevation in BBC Sherlock

Anyone stop to notice all the sweet moments John and Sherlock have shared together at the bottom of the stairs of 221b? Out of breath, laughing together in ASiP. John admitting what he said at Sherlock’s grave. The tension between them in TRF before Sherlock meets the press and goes to the trial. The tender moment they shared sleeping at the bottom of the stairs in TSoT. This isn’t by accident - this is an intentional metaphor placed by the writers to show the different layers of their characters’ emotions: staircases are the way to show the difference between emotions of the mind, the heart, and the groin.

The three different emotions are shown through vertical ascension: The ground level by a staircase is the heart, the levels above are the mind, and the levels below are the groin. Our characters are seen in meaningful situations at the bottom of staircases because they are speaking from their hearts.

*Sherlock hugging Mrs Hudson as soon as she opens the door to the landing of 221b in ASiP.
*John attempting to propose at a table near the base of the stairs
*Mycroft sitting at the bottom of the stairs in HLV waiting for his junkie brother to return home
*John returning to 221b in TEH to say goodbye one final time hears Sherlock’s violin at the bottom of the stairs
*Sherlock is the nicest he’s ever been to Molly when he thanks her in TEH at the bottom of his client’s staircase
*Sherlock kisses Mrs Hudson on the landing in ASiP
*Sherlock in his MP in HLV descends a staircase and finds Moriarty chained up

Just as the bottom of a staircase is significant, so is the top. 221b’s living room and kitchen in particular are the most important locations. These places are the mind, an “elevated level” of thinking. There are multiple skulls and severed heads in 221b to drive home the metaphor.

*John often finds Sherlock deep in thought upon arriving
* IV Drugs for Sherlock are always administered on the 2nd level of a structure, showing how their use is intended to affect the mind (Irene’s syringe, morphine in the hospital, drugs in 221b, the upper floor of the drug house in HLV)
*Sherlock opens his eyes on the operating table once he climbs his MP staircase (note that his heartbeat starts once he revives himself at the bottom of it)

So we’ve covered the ground level and above-ground levels, but what about literally taking the stairs underground? The most significant moment is when Sherlock leads John down several flights of stairs and into an unused train tunnel in TEH. This is his groin. He takes John somewhere that is fully-functional but never used. There’s no cell service, no sunshine. They go deeper down the stairs to find a train ready to blow. Sherlock tells John not to touch it or else it’ll explode and send phallic Big Ben blasting to pieces. Luckily Sherlock “turns it off” in time. This writing is hardly subtle.

While the three layers are important to understand on a basic level, it’s also important to watch the characters move from one level to the next - this tells us exactly what we need to know about their motivations.

*Sherlock descends a staircase in his MP in TSoT while deducing the importance of women in the Mayfly Man case. He starts in 221b (his mind) and goes down the stairs telling most women “not you” (his heart). There is where he’ll later tell John “You. It’s always you. John Watson you keep me right.”
*Sherlock descends the staircase in TAB after he sees Sir Eustace dead with Moriarty’s tag on the dagger. His mind has just seen something he knows can’t be real and he shakily descends to his heart, only to run into John. There he’s angry at John for abandoning his post and instead meeting him in his heart, where he shouldn’t be.
*In THoB Sherlock (and everyone else, really) descends into the hollow only to see a viscous monster peering at them from above. The monster starts to descend and it is promptly destroyed. Sherlock sees Moriarty there, too. He can’t trust the terrors of his mind and their possible infiltration of his heart.

With all this information at hand, what can we deduce about Mary and how the writers choose to show her climbing stairs? Her introduction to the viewers is her on a staircase, descending to meet John. What was her purpose up there? They could’ve shown her approaching from any angle but they chose the stairs. How did she get into Magnussen’s office when the personal lift is the only way up? What does it mean when every time Mary is showing ascending a staircase she’s RUNNING? In TEH, TSoT, and HLV she is running up the stairs, never walking.

Could it be she is never comfortable on the ground floor, her heart a facade just like the rest of her? Could it be she’s waiting for the opportune moment to abandon that facade for who she really is?

The Camp Fic

Rating: PG

Category: M/M

Fandom: Adventure Time

Relationship: Marshall Lee/Prince Gumball

Characters: Marshall Lee, Prince Gumball, Fionna the Human, Cake the Cat

Stats: 1,234 words

Summary: FLUFF. (Inpsired by this post.)


Read on ao3

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Random headcanon about Shitty getting a dog

So Shitty’s a little lonely in Boston by himself. Yeah, his family is there, but his family isn’t particularly warm or affectionate, and he doesn’t really like to see them if he can help it. He’s been thinking about getting a dog, but isn’t sure if he could devote enough time to one. Then one day…

 A local greyhound rescue is holding an adoption event at a pet store near his house so he goes to check it out and omg omg omg he falls in love for the second time in his life. One of the dogs takes to him immediately and follows him around the store to the point that Shitty legitimately checks his pockets for bacon because why does this dog like him so much? He asks a million questions expecting to hear some answers that will prove to him that he definitely can’t do this right now but there’s nothing?? Maybe study at home more often than the university library, but that’s it? It’s okay if he can only take the dog for a couple short walks/runs per day. It’s okay that he lives in an apartment. An apartment with an elevator? Even better! Stairs would have been a problem, because a lot of “retired” racers have never seen stairs before. They’re used to spending the majority of their day in confined spaces, so a 1 bedroom apartment is like a freaking mansion. Does it have a couch? Perfect! If you’re looking for your dog, it will be on that couch 90% of the time because greyhounds are the laziest freaking things on the planet and it’s hilarious.

 Long story short, Shitty adopts the greyhound who liked him so much because instant bond. The dog’s name is Adonis and he’s like “Well, I guess I’ve got two of those in my life now.” He takes him for a quick run in the morning before class which is nice because it helps keep him in shape after hockey, and nice walk at night to unwind from the stress of Harvard Law School. Adonis chills next to him on the couch while he studies, and he doesn’t feel so lonely away from his friends at Samwell anymore. He laughs because Adonis always tries to be Lardo’s lapdog when she visits, but he weighs only slightly less than her and is almost as big as her. 

 My point is, rescued greyhounds are total dorks and are so goddamned lazy you have no idea. My sister used to foster them and I volunteered with her rescue a few times. I was trying to picture Jack and Bitty with one, but it just wouldn’t be athletic enough for Jack’s runs. They’re sprinters, not great with stamina. That’s when it hit me that Shitty was the obvious answer. 

(This gif I found sums them up pretty well – giant loser on a soft bed, so cute!)

Originally posted by 43mrspolamalu43

I always wondered, how do people become travel journalists? It’s such a fun profession, but probably very energy absorbing, and obviously not an option in my case. I mean, who would watch a show with a disabled host. Or read anything at all, ever. But maybe someone needs to make a show about accessibility to disabled people around the world, because, for example, airports are my safe spaces, there is almost always a way to avoid stairs in them completely. Except for the one in Madrid, I was there once and at some point I was obliged to use stairs. It was very unusual, because it never happened anywhere else. Or in Zurich, for example, they basically caught me and told me to wait for a wheelchair, even tho I can walk (not too well, but I manage) and the airport wasn’t any more dangerous than any other, that never happened to me again as well and I skipped shopping in the duty free zone. I saw about 25 airports in my life, probably. I love them. They are safer than anywhere else for me. But even they are not always perfect (Madrid, why?), and I’m not even starting to talk about other public places that are often far from being ok. For example, when toilets in bars are downstairs, why is that a thing? It would be nice to have a show and an accessibility database and people going to check places out. Somebody needs to start it (not me, bc I’m broke and can’t travel atm).

Method Acting (or How Ladrien Stole Christmas) (Master Thief AU)


“Do you have eyes on him, Noir?”

Adrien nodded, taking a small sip from his champagne glass as he surveyed the bustling ballroom. “Grey Armani suit on the balcony,” he muttered into his lapel pin as casually as he could.

“I didn’t see anyone like that go in…now if you’re talking about the man in the grey Colosseo suit—”

“Forgive me for not being able to identify suits across a crowded ballroom,” Adrien sighed, shaking his head as he approached the balcony.

“That’s why you’re on schmooze duty instead of scaling this bloody wall.”

“I thought I was on schmooze duty because of my charming personality,” Adrien said, snatching a second champagne glass from a passing waitress as he walked.

“Please don’t make me laugh while I’m dangling ten stories over the ocean.”

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this!! is @sobriquet-widget​‘s character from our D&D campaign! her name is Ara Corvus and she’s a tiefling druid who has lived in a swamp her whole life. as a moon druid, she can turn into various animals and is a really great in combat but since she’s lived in a swamp her whole life she’s not used to city living. 

as in, she’s never seen stairs before in her life and the first time our party encountered them she failed a roll and fucking somersaulted down them. she needs to be led down stairs. we love her.

What your asking, has a price.

Joker X Harley/Reader Fan Fiction. Jared Leto Joker. WARNING- smut, sexual themes.

Plot: Harley has come to her wits end with the Joker. After months of therapy he hasn’t said or given her any information she can report back to her boss. Looking at being fired she tries to make a deal with the Joker.

“I need something, anything. Please I want to keep this job,”

“What your asking Doctor, has a price,”


You could feel your breath ran hot, your breathing sloppy and your knees wobbling beneath you. You have one hand firmly pressed on each of the Joker’s thighs. Your nails almost digging into his standard issued Arkham asylum pants. Your eyes half lidded; And your lust boiling over.

There he was, The Joker. With all his pride; he was quite happy to be seated like the king he was. You, on your knees before him. Your trembling hands going for the elastic waist band of his pants. He bit his lower lip back, his true arousal showing from watching the professional doctor break her moral code.

He was at full mast by the time you worked up the courage to start stroking him threw his pants. He gave you a growl and pushed against your hand.

“Don’t be a afraid,” he snarled. He pressed his thumb against your lower lip, popping your lower jaw down. He rubbed his thumb roughly around your tongue in tight circles; as he went for his waist band without hesitation.

You never felt this before. Your so intoxiced with him. So possessed and enticed by his sexual prowess. His eyes burned deep into yours; as you studied him back. Such a man as the joker, wouldn’t seem fit for such human acts. You wouldn’t think the Clown Prince of Gotham would have any need for the fruits of the body. Even if he did, what would his sexual desires entail?

Yet still, there he was. Growling for your touch. Looking at you with that lustful stair and using that tone you have never hear before. He was making damn sure you wanted this as much as he did.

He retracted his thumb, making you wished he didn’t. Running his thumb along your lower lip and down your neck; reaching the smooth supple skin of your collar.

“Open your mouth pretty,” his words sounded lazy. His mind was else where. He was too busy noticing your state. Your knees buckled beneath you, your fingers twisting hard into his pants. Your checks blushed and your mouth agaped with a hushed ashamed hungry look on your face.

He took hold of himself tightly at the base. Trying desperately not to lose control. He slid the tip roughly against the dimple of your tongue. You could barley taste him, but it didn’t matter. You knew you were hooked. Before the two of you even knew it, you had smacked your lips down against his base. Taking all of him that you could get. Inhaling his rich flamboyant musk. What a complex man. You almost felt like your pallet wasn’t good enough to appreciate his richness.

You let out a appreciative moan of relief and he runs his hand threw your hair. That was the point you knew you were damp and ready for anything. Your at your peak so soon and he hasn’t touched you that way yet.

He sees your worried eyes. Your trying so hard to not cum like this. Cumming at his feet like the worthless little nobody psychiatrist you are. Your trying to think about anything else. You try to remind yourself that he forced you to do this. That this wasn’t about satisfaction. It was about saving your job. He gave you the price for information and now here you two are.

It’s no use; your almost there. But he sees you’ve had too much all at once. He takes his grip on your hair and pulls your head back, releasing him with a all too satisfying pop of the lips.

“Ooh Doctor,” he grins, squirming slightly from the loss of your touch. Looking down at you panting with anticipation.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m going to take care of you,” he grinned before leaning in with sloppy open mouth kiss. His tongue pressing hard against your will and the buzzing sound in your head going quite. His tongue was a lot more intrusive than his cock; and for a moment you wondered if you were right. Too cock drunk to determine if he was being rough or not.

When he slide his cock back into your mouth you were reminded of that. How natural it was to take him like this. How powerful it made you feel to see him roll his head back. To grunt with passion and not just boredom or annoyance. You were both really enjoying yourselves.


You jump at the hard sound of a slamming fist against the large metal door to your office. You freeze as the joker seems as relaxed as ever. Smirking down at you, even more aroused by the thought of being caught.

You wipe your mouth before shouting threw the door.

“Yes?” You shout towards the door.

“I’ve come to inform you that the joker session will be cut short today. You have ten minutes.”

Ten minutes?

“We’re going to have to make this fast,” a low growl rolls with his last words as he stands up throwing you up and against your large office desk.

He doesn’t have to fight you, your too stunned to realize your situation. He spreads your legs, so he can get between them. Grabbing your skirt, tempted to rip it.

“I guess I have to leave your clothes intact,” he sneered. With almost one motion he grabbed hold of your skirt, pulling it high, entwining his fingers in your pantyhose before tearing them open. The feeling was all to real. He was going to take you.

“My, my, my… No panties?” He grinned.

No, no, no. You weren’t quite ready as you thought.

“Stop!,” you pipe up for the first time. Your hands push up against his chest in a defensive stance.

“I didn’t agree to this,” you sounded so weak. You want this, why are you stopping him?

“Oh?” He stopped, slamming his hands down, one on each side of you. You can tell for a moment he had lost his patience. He leaned in, pressing his tongue threw your lips and prying another delicious kiss from you.

“You really think I’d take you like this?” He gestured down your body at your state. “Oh Doctor you don’t know me at all. I’m going to need more then ten minutes to do what I want to you,”

Your hands when from barriers to fist. Pulling him closer for another long drawn out kiss.

“ Then what?,” you made your voice smaller.

“Then WHAT?!….You’ll get… WHAT I give you,” his face was nothing but serious is he grasp himself again, leading himself to rub against your core. He growled when he felt how wet and warm you are for him. How easy it is to slide up and down your fold. The more he shifted his hips down, the more slick his cock became with your quivering opening.

Your fist still tight against his shirt. You let your head relax. Resting just far enough back to let out enjoyable soft moans. You couldn’t be too loud but you wanted to let him know how you felt. You unexpectedly yelp as he accidentally slipped the tip of his head in. You try to hold him there before his pulls away roughly. Savoring the moment and again you were there. Your losing control. Don’t. Stop. You can’t.

“Put it in!” You whimper loudly, too loud. Your voice; a high over exaggeration. You thrust your body upwards at him. “I’m so close! PUT IT IN!”

The Joker’s only response was the hard slap of his hips meeting yours as you growl at his massive size opening you up. You can feel yourself parting for him. Your eyes roll back, visualizing the impossible being moved inside you. Thick cuts of wood being split apart by hand, hard back books being torn down the spine, all these things and more is the only way you can describe this masculine weight penetrating you. This was all you needed, you feel your muscles tighten and then loosen. Soft and excepting. You’ve never cum this long, this hard, and this relieving. Your unsure when you closed your eyes but you were to shy to open them back up.

This too didn’t stop the joker. He pulled out so fast, just as fast as he entered. But if you thought he was done with you, your wrong. He plunged himself back with full force, and your eyes snapped open to meet his staring back. You wrap your arms over his shoulders, not sure what’s going to happen next. Your sensitivity lingering enough to hurt as he proceeds to pump his hips into you; then pulling out and cumming all over your raw opening.

He goes silent now, you can’t even hear him pant. He forces his still erect cock back into his pants. Sitting back in his chair and looking as indifferent as usual. If you still weren’t a mess you would’ve sworn it was all a day dream. To unreal.

You pull yourself together. Sitting down in your chair now. You look at the clock. You have five minutes left.

You clear your throat, his taste still lingering.

“Ok Mister Joker. What can you tell me about your childhood?”

Originally posted by i-mitacja

Mirio using his quirk to do mundane stuff gives me life.  Like he never uses stairs anymore he just falls through the floor or launches himself up through the ceiling.  If he catches the bus he doesn’t bother to wait for a stop, he’ll just phase through the bus as its moving if it passes by where he wants to go.

And the classic, he never uses doors, he’ll just walk through walls, through other people’s rooms to get where he’s going.


My bare legs lay stretched out across Vic’s lap, his long, tan fingers innocently running up and down my cool skin. I lifted my gaze and watched him; his eyes were glued to the TV, his lips slightly parted as he got lost in the show. The flickering lights lighted the dark room and his skin, showing its smoothness. His fingers continued to roam my leg and I felt my pulse quicken when he brushed a certain spot behind my knee. I took in a small breath of air but he didn’t notice, his fingers just continued to mindlessly trail, making my skin heat up. I shifted and almost pulled my legs from his lap, but I hesitated, the more I looked at him and felt his skin against mine, the more I wanted him. We had been together for a while now, and we still haven’t gone there because I hesitated or skillfully pulled away, but now, I couldn’t rip my eyes from him. I licked my lips with determination mixed with slight unease, pulled my legs from his lap and kneeled, only to throw my leg over his waist and settled against his hips. Vic’s hands immediately rested on my waist and I watched his brows lift with surprise. I said nothing, but lowered my neck and softly pressed my lips to his, encouraging myself further when I felt him smile against my skin. He kissed me back without thought and I lightly circled my hips into his when his hands pushed under my shirt and trailed up the skin of my back. His calloused fingers unhooked my bra, I felt it loosen around my shoulders and I took in another deep breath; this was the farthest we’ve ever gone and my flushing cheeks and frantic pulse did not fail to remind me. I stiffened, and Vic felt it. “Al…” I didn’t want to stop, even though, my body was saying the opposite. I took the hem of my shirt in my fingers and pulled the fabric away from my torso and over my shoulders, my hands reattached to Vic’s cheeks and I leaned back down to capture him. Our lips danced together and I pushed harder when his hands took their place back on my bare hips. My palms danced down his chest, feeling his muscles quiver under my hands as I lowered them to rid him of his shirt. The droning of the TV became just a subtle background noise as Vic and I got lost in each other. His hands found a home on the back of my thighs, pulling my hips closer to his and I surprised myself when a small moan bubbled from my chest. Vic chuckled against my lips and stood, taking small yet quick steps towards the stairs. Our bodies lightly bounced against each other’s as he took us up the stairs, but our lips never stopped. Vic gently placed me on my back on the bed, him immediately hovering over me right after whispering my name. I wrapped my arms around him as he lowered his body closer to mine, our lips already attached and dancing. “Just tell me to stop, Al.” He softly spoke into my neck and I agreed with another small moan as his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin on my neck. My arms and legs tightened around him, pulling him as close to me as possible. I weaved my fingers through his long dark hair and felt a small giggle bounce my chest when his teeth pulled at my collarbone. He breathed a laugh against my skin and went to work trailing his lips all over my chest. My head thudded against the mattress, my eyes nearly rolling to the back of my head at the magic his lips performed on my skin. Soon, his fingers were hooking in the band of my jean shorts and I felt him hesitate. He leaned back and my eyes locked with his deep brown orbs. “Vic.” I spoke his name with a small nod of my head and a smile that I swear brightened my face. Vic must have noticed it as well because he leaned back down to me and softly kissed me before his lips made a path from my collar bone to my belly button. His fingers worked on the button of my jeans and I still felt content as he slid them down my legs. He shot right back up to me to continue to kiss me and weave his fingers through my hair as my hands rested on his bare chest. They lifted and ran across his broad shoulders, my fingers lining and dipping into the muscles of his shoulders and arms that I craved. The more my fingers roamed his skin, the warmer my chest felt and the sooner I wanted him closer to me. I reached out with my right hand, took a hold of his shorts and yanked them down his legs. My impatience grew even further when he laughed at me. “Patience, Alisson…”Vic tsked against my skin and my hips bucked into his. The nerves and hesitation that was plaguing me just a few minutes ago was gone and replaced my need. His nails lightly skimmed my skin as he slowly pulled my panties down my legs, soon followed by the removing of his boxers. I felt so close to him, so surrounded by him that I just wrapped my arms around him and held him to me, sighing as his softly kissed my shoulder. Once I released him, he leaned away from me and reached towards the bedside table, I ignored the sound of the draw opening and paid attention to his hand which still continued to caress my shoulder down to my waist. When he was hovering over me was when the slight panic and possible fear settled into me. I felt almost frozen and unable to respond when Vic asked me a question I could barely hear. His brows furrowed and his hand cupped the side of my cheek. “Hey, Al,” he slowed and shook his head side to side. “We don’t have to.” “No,” I almost jumped and rested my hand on top of his. I wanted to, it is just something I am so unfamiliar with, and Vic knew that. Vic nodded and sent me a look of understanding. “Slow.” He stated and settled with another kiss to my lips then neck. He waited a few more moments and I felt him press against me. Slowly and carefully, he pushed into me and paused when I took in a big breath of air. My eyes clamped shut and I felt him lean closer to me and pepper my chest, neck and cheek with soft and fluttering kisses. I hummed in encouragement for him to continue. Vic pushed just a little bit more and paused for my reaction, sliding in more when I showed no sign of distress. Once his hips were settled against mine, Vic waited and stunned me when he circled his hips, causing him to hit parts of me that drawled a moan from me that surprised both of us. I smiled when Vic laughed at me, only to circle into me again and groan when I clenched around him. I opened my eyes and watched his head fall back, his long hair a complete mess as he began to pull out only to push gently back in. Soon, he settled into a slow pace that had me wanting more and I told him by lifting my hips to meet his each time he surged forward. I convinced him even more to speed up when I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him closer to me so I could attach my lips to his then trail down to his tanned, smooth neck. He moaned and I felt the vibration into my lips which made me smile. Vic began to push deeper and faster, making my eyes cross and my back arch. Together, we fell into a fast yet still gentle rhythm that continued to pull moans and groans from both of us. Our breathing picked up and I found myself almost choking on a deep breath when an unfamiliar feeling began to grown deep in my belly. It surged each time Vic pushed into me and felt like it was going to shatter me to pieces. His body shot forward and nearly rested against mine with a groan. “Alll….”He drew out my name and I nearly yelled his when his hips pushed deeply into mine; my body convulsed and my limbs wrapped and tightened around him, holding him to me with a death grip. I could hear waves rolling in my ears while my skin burned from not only Vic’s actions but the feeling of him against me. Vic pushed four more times before he let out a deep groan that made me shiver. He leaned back down to me and rested our foreheads together, our chest rising and falling in unison as we struggled to catch our breaths. My hands lifted and combed through his damp, wild hair as his lips placed lazy kisses across my still searing skin. I took in a deep breath and smiled before the words even left my lips. “I love you.” It was almost a whisper but his head lifted and I caught sight of his huge, room brightening smile. I pushed a small lock of hair away from his eyes and laughed a stupid, girly laugh when he spoke. “I love you, too.” Vic bit at his lips before tilting towards me and kissing me.

1. If someone is on top of you, and won’t let you go, you are allowed to kick them in the crotch. Yes, it hurts girls as well to be kicked down there. Just never let them have their way with you.
2. Never use the stairs to enter a pool. And swim in the ocean instead, if you have the option.
3. Never, ever dumb yourself down for a boy/girl. Always stay true to yourself.
4. If you’re up at 3am crying on a school night, take the next day off, no matter what.
5. If your partner ever hits you, talks shit to you or cheats on you, leave them without second thought. They are no good to be with.
7. Buy old books and don’t be afraid to highlight your favorite parts.
8. If someone looks good, compliment them. Even if you just love their hair or their skirt, say it.
9. Always like other people’s selfies.
10. It’s always okay to cry over books. And laugh out loud. It makes the experience of reading even better.
11. Boys sneaking in through your window will only lead to heartbreak.
12. If you see cuts or bruises on someone, don’t comment. Send them a big smile instead.
13. If you point out someone’s flaws, they will remember it for the rest of their lives.
14. When traveling, pack lightly, and stay out of tourist zones.
15. Your grandparents will be the wisest people in your life. Ask them for advice and spend as much time with them as possible.
16. Make goals for yourself, but remember that it’s okay if you don’t reach them on time.
17. Watch the sunrise alone as often as possible.
18. If you see a cat, kneel down, call it, and put out your hand. Let it smell you, and if it doesn’t run away, you can talk to it.
19. It’s perfectly okay to have no plans on a Friday night. And Saturday night.
20. Remember that you can’t help someone else before you help yourself.
—  Life advice from my personal experiences

On February 5, Kosovo 2.0 published a blog called “The Carnivorous Men of the Albanian Street” by writer Nina Cara. Almost immediately, there was backlash on a blog called Peshku Pa Uje. I want to address a few glaring issues that I saw among the responses on that site. I usually think of Albanians as people who are proud of their heritage — sometimes to a fault — but it seems that I forgot that this mutual, common heritage-based respect only exists for male Albanians, if that.

This is what I have to say to all of the people who made those hateful and disgusting comments. May my voice be an ally to women everywhere who live under such dehumanizing conditions.

To the people who said Cara should feel flattered because she was getting attention: Being harassed on the street does not make women feel beautiful. It makes us feel scared. It makes us nervous to walk through our own neighborhood, even in broad daylight. It makes us fearful that one day this misguided sexual attention will turn into something worse than words, and we won’t make it home to our parents that night.

To the person who told Cara to put in earplugs: Why should she have to go buy earplugs and stuff them in her head every morning to have a peaceful walk to work while men don’t have to be held responsible for their disturbing behavior? And by the way, earplugs can’t block the way they leer at you and suck their teeth like you’re a piece of chicken being pulled from the bone. Should we purchase blinders too?

To the person who said that attention should make Cara feel like a woman: No. Just no. Male attention is not a prerequisite for being a woman. And let’s just pause for a moment before we mistake harassment for attention.

To the person who said Cara should avoid this sort of attention by simply not walking the streets: You’re right. What was she doing out of the kitchen anyway? (Please sense my endless sarcasm for your ridiculous comment.)

To the person who said that “gender equality” is to blame for making men into rapists: First of all, we are far from a state of gender equality — not only in Albania but also in Kosovo, America, and the rest of the world. Women are not responsible for men raping them. Let me repeat that until you understand: Women are not responsible for men raping them. Women are not responsible for men raping them. Men are responsible for sidestepping the functions of their higher brains and acting like animals, like ruthless predators going for the throat.

To the person who said feminism is an incurable psychosis: Where do I even start? Feminism is not the disease: misogyny and patriarchy and male dominance are the disease. Feminism is a part of the cure.

To the person who said women are teases who leave him with his “guitar” in his hand: Do you blame them when you talk like that? What do you expect? And for that matter, we are not merely somewhere to put your guitar. I can suggest a few other places.

To the people who said women deserve it because of how they dress: This sort of logic only exacerbates the idea that men are not responsible for their actions once they find a woman attractive, which is not only delusional, but dangerous. And by the way, do you think that this only happens when we wear skirts? I can be covered from head to toe in the winter and still be the subject of objectification. Again, stop blaming women for “inciting” men. Start blaming men for tormenting women.

To the men, Albanian, Kosovar, and otherwise who endlessly disrespect, harass and terrify the women walking your streets: You should be ashamed of yourselves. It is because of you that I’m scared to walk through the beautiful cities of our countries by myself. It is because of you that I watch my little sister from the balcony when she goes down the street to buy bread. It is because of you that my mother tells me to take cabs once the sun is setting.

We are not inciting you. We are not asking you to say what parts of us you’d like to eat while we’re just walking to work. We are not asking you to rape us.

We are existing. We are humans.

You, on the other hand, are responsible for planting fear, mistrust and even hatred in us; hatred toward all men who look at us with eyes full of lust and mouths full of sexual slurs meant to demean us.

If this hasn’t hit home yet, let me add an anecdote to make it very clear to you that catcalling is not only disgusting, but dangerous.

I visited Kosovo in the summer of 2009 when I was 16 years old. By that age, I was used to the verbal abuse hurled at me on the streets of Prishtina and took every possible precaution which family members warned might lessen the problem; dressing modestly, not wearing much make-up, not walking alone.

One night, my brother and I were walking home together. Once we were across the street from my sister’s apartment building (he had to go down a different street to go to my halla’s apartment where he was staying that summer). My brother kissed me on the cheek and watched me walk across the street before turning the corner and heading for my halla’s apartment. I was crossing the street to enter my sister’s apartment building when I first heard the taunting.

“Where did your boyfriend go? Did he leave you for me to have?”

I put my head down and walked faster, entering the apartment building with fear growing like a tree in the middle of my chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man follow me from across the street and enter the building behind me. Then, the whispering started.

“Don’t go upstairs. Your boyfriend left you. Come back. Come play.”

My heart stopped beating. It was 1 a.m. and I was alone in a staircase with a man who was following me… and I had only been alone from the sidewalk to the apartment entrance. That’s all it took.

I started running up the stairs and the man chased after me, laughing.

“Come on, don’t be like that. Let’s play. I want to eat all of you. I bet you’re so sweet. Stop running.”

I was tearing up the staircase, out of breath and terrified, heart beating like a drum in my chest. The man was only a few steps behind me and as we were getting higher and higher, I realized that I was running out of strength and he was only getting closer. He was going to catch me.

So I did the only thing I could. I screamed for another man.

“Babi!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, my voice reverberating through the empty stairwell.

The man stopped for a second, trying to gauge whether or not my father was actually waiting at the top of the steps.

We were on the ninth floor now and he was only a few steps behind me. If he didn’t believe my pleas for my father, I didn’t know what I would do next. Would anyone hear me yelling?

“Babi!” I screamed. “Babi! I’m home! It’s Fortesa, I’m home, open the door!”

I reached the tenth floor and pounded my fists on my apartment door because my hands were shaking too much to fit my key into the lock.

With every pound, I screamed for my father.

“Babi!” Pound. “Babi! Babi!” Pound, pound.

The man laughed again, only three steps below me.

“Say hi to your dad for me,” he said and finally, to my bottomless relief, turned to head back down the steps.

By the time my mother opened the door, I was sitting against it, crying hysterically. I couldn’t breathe or calm down enough to tell her what had happened for hours. I didn’t sleep well the next few weeks, awakened by constant nightmares of the man who had chased me and horrific imaginings of what might have happened if he’d caught up with me.

And guess what? My father wasn’t even home. I knew he wasn’t home. He wasn’t even in the country. But apparently being a woman means that the only way a man will stop harassing you is if he knows another man is protecting you.

Do you understand what that means? Men only respect other men. That man did not respect me as a person. But he feared my father, and that was the only thing that saved me that night.

Catcalling is not just catcalling. It is harassment. It is degrading. It is demeaning. It is abusive. It is wrong. And when it happens at night, there’s an even higher chance that it can turn into something more dangerous.

Stop blaming women. Stop turning a blind eye. Stop telling us to be more careful, less pretty, less desirable. You are only enabling these men and proliferating the idea that to stay out of danger, women have to take every precaution possible while men can behave in any manner they see fit.

One last note: to all the men lurking in doorways, sitting on steps, and standing in the street who hurl words at us like stones: you may have scared us and you may have ruined our morning and you may have chased us up ten flights of stairs, but you will never ever get the best of us.

—  Fortesa Latifi - To All the Men Lurking In Doorways
BrittanaCon Prompt Project - 14b

AUTHOR: themostrandomfandom (FF account)

PROMPT: High school Brittana going to the movies by themselves for the first time where Santana knows it’s a date but is too nervous to call it that.

PROMPTED BY: allthrumyribs


TITLE: First Time for Falling

Word Count: ~3,700

Author’s Note: Written for the BrittanaCon Prompt Project. I hope the prompter forgives me ‘cause I deviated just a little bit from the prompt; Santana calls this a date, but she’s still a nervous mess about it. So.


Santana runs her hands over another dress in her closet. A ring of discarded outfits lies scattered around her on the floor. She’s already tried on five different options, and she’s wearing number six and considering number seven. A dress is too much for the movies. She should wear jeans. But, like, nice jeans. And a nice blouse. And she should hurry up and make her decision because she still has to fix her hair and makeup, and Brittany will be here to pick her up in less than an hour, and—

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