not as harmless as he looks

Ya know what I want?

I want for the Paladins to a “spring cleaning” in the Castle and the Lions and that they find all sort of stuff, especially from the paladins before them that once piloted their lions.

I want Lance to find a small heavy box filled with small squares that resemble photos and in all of them a young happy ex-Blue Paladin is smiling bright and big at the camera. I want him to go through all the photos of their adventures where they are on with blue paladin armor along with the rest team and photos of the planets and people they saved. I want him to be motivated of that and push himself to do as good as his senior Paladin did; to help, save and care.

I want Hunk to find video clips of the old paladin of his lion where he’s almost video blogging and he’s narrating the adventures. The videos start as a formal report but then slowly turn into a journal and Hunk is mesmerized by the story telling. The stories become more personal as the videos go on and then, in one of them, there’s a second tiny person besides the old yellow paladin, cradled in his arms and Hunk gasps out when Alfor whispers Allura’s name as he stares fondly at the small Altean baby.

I want Pidge to find all kind of dry plants and flowers in one of her lion’s compartments and for her to being curious enough to look their meaning and components, to see if they were related to the nature back in Olkari, but turns out they are just harmless simple silly plants/leaves/flowers/petals from different planets. I want her to find the old Green Paladin notebook with the characteristics of each plant and it’s enough for Pidge to search and wonder why they were so important to the past paladin. I want her to feel this soothing calm breeze inside her as she learns more and more about nature and feels a better connection with her Lion.

I want Keith to find sketches. I want him to find sketches of aliens, planets, explosions, Red, all the lions together, Voltron itself, the castle. I want him to see through the old red Paladin’s eyes and see their reality, to see the calling and good and belonging they had and wishing he could be part of that. I want him to pick up that extra empty journal he finds, covered in dust and falling blank pages, and start doing his own sketches, making up his mind and starts portraying his home, his team, his family he has found and creating his own path slowly.

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Now Or Never - Nathaniel x Eva

This is a drabble that was requested by @luxxesitacdm between Nathaniel and her candy, Eva. The request was for Eva to be someone who constantly teases Nathaniel to the point where he takes things into his own hands. I hope you like it~!


It was an odd dynamic for Nathaniel to have with someone, and it was beginning to run hot through his bones. Eva was consistently saying things that had blood rushing to Nathaniel’s face as if it were nothing. At first it was just harmless flirting, nothing more than teasing, but with every passing day Nathaniel was finding himself more and more unable to hold himself back.

Sorting through a few documents that he needed to hand over to the principal by the end of the day, Nathaniel was half-aware of the student council room’s door opening as someone entered. “How can I help?” He asked, not looking up from the documents. That is, until he heard the voice of the girl who had made her way into the room.

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pomrania  asked:

"Confused Sleep-Over Voice" and "The Seventh of Not-Gonna-Happen".

Hmmm….lemme think a minute here….

Confused Sleep-Over Voice
Nobody said introducing a giant alien robot to the concept of slumber parties was going to be easy, but Rafael Jorge Gonzales Esquivel was nothing if not determined. He had two stacks of Mad Libs, a box of Mountain Dew, a crate of energon, and no set bedtime. He was going to regret everything tomorrow, of course, but it would be so worth it.”

The Seventh of Not-Gonna-Happen
The first time he asked her out after the breakup, she’d politely declined. The second time, she’d flatly said no. The third time she’d threatened him with a blow-torch. She was lucky she was so petite and harmless looking, and that he’d been too embarrassed to tell anyone. But Roland was irritatingly persistent, and Marianne had lost patience ages ago. She was about ready to take drastic measures including but not limited to asking her eldritch swamp-neighbors for assistance.”
(Strange Magic au. Feels like something @abutterflyobsession has probably done? I’m not sure. She comes up with the best aus for that movie)

Y’know, I really enjoy the concept of Clark Kent.

Like, minus the whole superman aspect.

because, like, okay I can buy that maybe he can disguise himself well enough to hide the fact that he’s superman, but i doubt any amount of slouching and glasses wearing can truly disguise that he’s a very tall EXTREMELY muscular man with a jawline that can cut glass.

So basically this newspaper office has this guy who looks like a weightlifter/supermodel just hanging around but he wears glasses and acts like a huge nerd and everyone just goes with it???

Like “Oh yeah, that’s Clark. No no he works here. Oh no don’t bother being intimidated by him, talk to him for five minutes and he’ll devolve into a lecture on proper tractor maintenance. We like Clark.”

 I wonder if the ladies in the office ever drag him with them to bars so they don’t have to worry about creeps trying to harass them like “back off creeps our friend here is 6′4″ and grew up chucking hay bales” 
And then it’s funny because (as far as they know) Clark is like, the meekest lil nerd around. (He don’t look it though!!!!)

It’s just incredible to me that Clark Kent can pull off being a quiet harmless dork while still looking like, well, superman. 

You know, I keep seeing posts talking about what a horrible liar Kara is. But the fact of the matter is Kara is probably one of the best liars I’ve ever seen on TV.

But wait. The entirety of National City knows Kara’s Supergirl, you may be thinking. How can she be a good liar? But that’s the thing—her secret isn’t that Kara Danvers is Supergirl.

Kara’s only been Supergirl for the past year or so. But still, she’s been lying for well over a decade about who she is—and successfully. The thing about Clark—and they’ve addressed this in season 1—is he may as well be human. They’ve talked about this with Astra, and then they’ve shown this Myriad. Because in Clark’s head, he’s not Kryptonian. His powers make him stand apart, but when he solar flares, his most likely thought process is I’m human now. To Kara, it would be I’m now powerless. And there is a difference. Krypton is much more technologically advanced, yes, but that is not the only difference between Earth and Krypton.

I cannot emphasize enough Kara is not human. Kara’s alienness isn’t contingent upon her abilities—superpowers or no superpowers, she’s always Kryptonian.

And sure, plenty of people probably have figured out that Kara is Supergirl—but that’s pretty much it. What people know about Kara’s past is that she’s Superman’s cousin, and that’s it. And clearly, Kara is younger than Superman—most people aren’t going to think “yup. She was probably put in suspended animation in some way.” I mean the conspiracy theorists might, but not really the overwhelming people on Earth. (listen. You gotta draw a line somewhere)

Most people are going to think ‘Occam’s Razor’—that Kara’s mom, or dad, or both, got off Krypton at the same time as Superman, and a decade later had Kara, and that there’s a very good chance that Supergirl is half human, or at the very least born on Earth and raised as a human. It’s what’s logical, isn’t it? The simplest answer is usually the correct one.

But she’s not. English isn’t her first language, and she grew up with a very different culture, undergone a host of different experiences that most humans couldn’t even imagine. Hell, she wasn’t even born the same way—Clark was the first natural Kryptonian birth in years. That means Kara was not. Kara was born via the Codex—really, if James was surprised at the depths of Kara’s anger over losing Krypton (back in season 1—you know, where Kara got to have more than 3 emotions), or how surprised he was to find out what Kara’s family crest really meant, how surprised would they be at everything she’d decide to just stop hiding?

Because Kara is so very good at hiding. Kara Danvers is real, yeah, but it’s someone she had to build. One of the very subtle, but telling moments happened in the first episode of season two, when Kara and Clark were getting off the elevator, and Clark had a clumsy moment where he ran into someone and knocked all their things to the ground. After he apologized and helped the person pick up their things, Kara asked him “wow, you really have the whole clumsy thing down, don’t you?” “Oh no, that was real.” Key word here is thing. As in, I have a routine I go through to distract people and to seem harmless. And this is just the tip of the iceberg, of routines and acts Kara must go through to make herself seem human. Kara Danvers is real, but part of that identity is a persona she constantly embodies–clumsy, absentminded, horrible at math and science, cute but not drop dead gorgeous, a bit quirky always happy, harmless, invisible, human.

And so it’s not surprising that all of these people are figuring out her identity, but that’s not really what Kara’s held close to her chest, not like Clark. Kara’s anger and loss and just general alienness–that is her secret. This is what she’d confide, this is what she’d have to truly trust someone to reveal. This is what the culmination of trust would look like, trust in Cat or Lena or Maggie (or hell even Barry, who sure knows Kara is an alien but. He doesn’t really seem to grasp the implications of that–oh i didn’t realize Kara got mad).

For 10 years, Kara kept herself hidden, keep herself secret. But Kara’s secret isn’t that she’s Supergirl, a human with powers. Kara’s secret is that she is angry and mad and hurting. But most of all, Kara’s secret is that she is not human.

Friendly reminder that -

  • Percy’s neutral expression is a natural brooding look that he gets from Poseidon
  • That when he does smile it’s crooked and makes him look like a trouble maker
  • When he talks it’s usually very sarcastic and/or impertinent 
  • His inner monologue is actually very negative and while we, as the readers, take it as a joke he’s usually pretty pessimistic for a good portion of the time
  • That when he’s fighting his expression is fierce and is hard to tell whether he is the good guy or not
  • That Leo Valdez equated Percy’s angry expression to the feeling he gets when Jason is about to shoot lightning. Let me repeat - just the look on Percy’s face when he’s angry was considered on par to Jason controlling flipping lightning
  • That he’s very very vindictive and loyal only to those he considers his friends and once you lose his trust it is nearly impossible to earn back 
  • That while he had the curse of achilles, he laughed crazily while he was single handedly destroying hordes of monsters
  • He made an entire volcano erupt, awakened a giant, and almost wiped out the northwest of the united states
  • He tortured a godess just so she would feel his misery
  • That he’s actually very manipulative and it made Annabeth step back for a moment and reevaluate her perception of him
  • That while his dark side came to it’s peak in house of hades and wasn’t mentioned in blood of olympus, there was no confirmation that it suddenly and completely disappeared after they left Tartarus.
  • Has been the child of the prophecy twice.
  • He manipulated Bob to kill his own brother by simply convincing him that they were friends and that is what friends did for each other
  • He was physically abused by his step father
  • That with absolutely no training at all he killed the minotaur with it’s own horn at the mere age of twelve
  • He wins a good majority of his fights by simply outsmarting his opponent 
  • He has scared not only Annabeth but his friends and peers on more than one occasion with his attitude and powers
  • That he’s considered extremely powerful for a demigod and for a child of the big three and makes the gods slightly nervous
  • That when he’s upset his powers act to mimic his emotions without him even trying
  • Has been offered immortality
  • That he is actually really sorta intimidating without trying 
  • That we need to stop reducing Percy’s character to a happy-go-lucky comic relief goofball that doesn’t know his left foot from right because he is so much more than that
PROPOSALS

▹ pairing: Jeongguk x reader
▹ words: 18,102 I’m so sorry 
▹ genre: smut, fluff, light angst, friends to lovers

You and Jeongguk propose at restaurants to get free food, but somewhere along the way you start to fall for him.


You never thought Jeongguk would actually take you up on the whole fake proposals thing. When you had suggested the idea to him, he’d just laughed and said “yeah”, then continued playing Fallout 4. You hadn’t actually meant it; the idea was one of those you vaguely imagine it happening, but not really, which is why when he brought it up weeks later suggesting you try it out, you thought he was kidding. 

He wasn’t, and this is how you end up in one of the city’s nicer restaurants on a fake date with your best friend. 

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Jealous

A NIGHT AT HOME | JUNGKOOK VERSION

WORD COUNT: 4,944

warnings: graphic smut, dirty talk, spanking, oral sex, fingering, rough sex, asphyxiation (choking), dom!jungkook + sub!reader

Originally posted by jeonbase

masterlist | ask | song


Slamming the front door behind him Jungkook twisted your body round to face him, his jaw clenched impossibly tight with anger as his eyes searched your face. Despite the fact you’d been together almost four years now, he still became irrationally jealous over the smallest of interactions with other men. You’d met Jungkook one Saturday night in your favourite club in Seoul, a middle aged man had tried to flirt with you and buy you a drink but to tell you the truth his presence had you on edge; and a tall, dark and handsome stranger managed to salvage the situation; acting as your jealous boyfriend who demanded to talk to you outside.

Of course when the two of you made it outside the club he lit up a cigarette and admitted he was watching you most of the night, and couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable you looked around the older man. Any normal woman would feel invaded if someone had admitted to visually stalking them all night, but he seemed harmless. He was beautiful, mysterious and frankly the most charming man you’d ever encountered. The strangers name was Jeon Jungkook, the maknae and lead vocalist of the famous Kpop group BTS; you couldn’t believe your luck when he asked you out that night, he was possibly everything you’d ever wanted in a significant other.

But the jealous boyfriend act wasn’t just an act anymore.

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Clueless (M)

Jimin/Reader

Words: 9.4k

Summary: After your apartment gets flooded, Tae let’s you stay at his apartment for a few days. But things don’t go as you had expected. Your problem? Having a crush on Jimin. His problem? Well, you’re about to find out. 

Disclaimer: You all know the drill: strong mature content ahead, clueless Jimin, sharing beds, and an unexpected suggestion. Enjoy!

It had been decided that you’d be spending at least three days at V’s house.

Apparently, your plumbing hated you, and a faucet decided to blow up without you noticing, leaving most of your apartment completely flooded. You’d managed the water flow to stop, but the damage was already done, and it seemed as though you had an entire river filling the place up. Nothing you couldn’t deal with, so you picked up your phone and texted V to ask for help.

He sent you the plumber number.

Asshole.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Tae? We’ve been friends for years, and you send me a number? It’s two in the morning!” You had yelled at him, your patience wearing thin.

“Fine! You can come to my house until that’s fixed!” He had growled before hanging the phone in your face to go back to sleep.

You managed to stuff your bag quickly with your laptop, phone charger and a few clothes before exiting your ruined apartment. Not to mention, you’d have to call the plumber and some house service to deal with all that water first thing in the morning.

After half an hour, you’d finally reached his apartment, pressing his doorbell and waiting for him, and it didn’t take long for the door to abruptly swing open to reveal a shower-dampened and half naked Jimin dressed only in some sleeping shorts.

You had not expected to be confronted by Jimin’s bare torso, but it wasn’t as if you had never seen that before.

But more importantly, it had been quite a while since you’d last seen Jimin. And your feelings for him had never wavered even apart. It had been at least a month, and it felt like too damn long. Watching BTS live videos on Youtube wasn’t quite the same, especially considering how you felt towards him.

He had dyed his hair a soft pink color again that was slightly darkened from being wet, but he somehow seemed different besides his hair color. Something about the way he was eyeing you.

Your body reacted before your mind could, a big smile on your face “Do you greet everyone dressed like that?”

Jimin leaned against the door frame, eyeing you from head to toes. “Only you, of course.”

It as a harmless tease, you knew. However, it still made your stomach do a summersault at his sultry tone.

And then he unexpectedly swung his arms around you, gripping you into a tight embrace, and you tensed briefly before you returned the gesture, hugging him as you smell the sweet scent of his shampoo.  You felt your own shirt dampen as droplets of water fell from his hair.

“I’ve missed you!” You laughed, finally breaking the embrace.

“Me too,” Jimin stepped aside, allowing you to enter before shutting the door. “You look great.”

And so did he. More than great.

You looked around, dropping your bag by the nearby couch. “Where’s Tae?”

Jimin arched one eyebrow, drying off his hair with a towel. “Tae is not here. He’s with Jungkook on some trip that lasts the three days we have off. I thought you knew.”

What? Why hadn’t he told you anything? That was weird.

“Oh,” You started, slightly confused at that information. “So, what are you doing here?”

You tried your best not to let your eyes linger too much on any part of his body that wasn’t his face, but it was proving to be harder than expected.

“I’ve been staying here whenever we get some off time. We keep each other company.” He flashed you his trademark cute grin.

Well, it made sense. They had been friends long before you had met any of them.

Jimin yawned, rubbing the towel through his hair one last time. “I’m sorry to hear about your apartment. It sucks.”

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Secret Admirer

Note: I’ve been sick so I haven’t been able to get too many requests done. but I really enjoyed writing this! I do hope you like it! feedback is welcome! thanks for the request, sweetie .c

Request: Bucky gets jealous and protective when he finds out that a man has been showering you, his wife, with gifts and presents and letters and confronts that man :-D

Originally posted by caps-bucky


If one thing about Bucky was for certain: he despises another male giving you attention. He spent years and years believing nobody could ever love him, and he’d be damned if he let another man swoop in and steal you away, the one who loves him dearly. Though, countless times you’ve assured Bucky that he’s the only man you have eyes on, and you’d never leave him, he was still protective of you. 


Bucky was startled out of his deep slumber early in the morning, to find the postman holding a bouquet of roses, asking for him to sign for them. His stomach twisted and his eyes squinted at the brightly colored flowers.  

“Are you sure this is the right address? I didn’t order flowers.” Bucky always hand picked your flowers, never bought, except on special occasions. You preferred handpicked, enjoying the special meaning behind them a lot more than a floral shop arrangement. But sometimes Bucky would surprise you. This was not one of those times.

The postman nodded and gave Bucky a friendly smile. “Yep! Y/N Y/L/N still lives here, right?” The postman asks, noticing Bucky’s eyes flitting back and forth across his face. “What’s it to you?” Bucky snaps, angrily taking the vase from the postman’s hand.

The postman’s eyes widen and he stands there, shocked. “Just making sure. The floral shop has no time for mistakes.” He said before turning on his heel and rushing away to finish his route.

Bucky sighed heavily as he looked for a note attached to the roses. He wanted to throw them away, maybe even stomp on them and hunt the asshole down and give him a piece of his mind. But instead, he waited patiently for you to finish showering before he acted on his emotions.

He sat them on the kitchen island in your shared apartment, wracking his brain as to who would send you, his wife, such an intimate gift. It couldn’t have been someone from your family; sadly so, you lost connections after being recruited. The guys on the team knew better to pull a prank like this; trying to woo his woman, they knew he’d stop at nothing to make sure every last flower was shoved so far up-

“Ooo, pretty!” Your voice rang through the kitchen as you skipped over to Bucky. Bucky’s heart sank at the sound of the excitement coming from your pretty mouth he loves to kiss so much. “Bucky, you shouldn’t have!” You smiled brightly, leaning over to him and placing a kiss to his cheek.

He frowned at your reaction, knowing how happy you got anytime he ever got you flowers. “I didn’t.” Bucky mumbled with a frown, his tired eyes falling to your hand on his arm. Your eyebrows creased with confusion. Your eyes scanned the bouquet, searching for a card as you twisted the vase around. Only then did you realize there wasn’t one.

“Well, who would’ve sent me these?” You asked softly, nobody coming to mind. Bucky shrugged and you tapped your fingers against the kitchen island. “I don’t like this.” Bucky grumbled before getting off the seat and pacing the kitchen.

You sighed and almost rolled your eyes at him, but even this confused you. “Well, why don’t I take them to the little old lady down the street later?” You offered with a small smile, wanting to get these away from Bucky before the vase was thrown into the wall. Or worse, into the head of the person that sent them.

Bucky nodded and looked over at you, his heart warming at the sight of your still wet hair and bright eyes. He never understood how someone could look so beautiful without even trying. So no, he was not about to let someone else see you this way.

You walked over to him and pulled him into you, your arms wrapping around his waist. Bucky held you close and he pressed his lips on the top of your head. His metal hand grasped at your shirt, the desperation to keep you in his arms evident in his actions. “I know you’re worrying. Don’t.” You whispered, looking up at Bucky, your chin resting on his torso.

His hand caressed your cheek and you smiled, causing one of his own to form on his lips.


It had been a week since the flower situation. Bucky didn’t dwell on it, but he was still alert when the postman would stop by. Bucky had been gone all morning, meeting up with Steve for the day. You were lounging around at home, working on a painting for your local art class, before you heard the doorbell ring.

You smiled and set down your paintbrush, wiping the paint on your hands onto your smock. You ran to the door and half expected to see Bucky, but knew he wouldn’t be home for a few more hours, and you were met with the postman.

“Hi Charlie!” You said with a smile, taking your letters from his outstretched hand. Charlie then pulled out a box, handing it to you. “What’s this?” You asked, inspecting the small box. “Not sure, sweetie. Sign here.” He said with a smile, offering you his pen and his clipboard. You quickly signed for the box and waved to Charlie before going back inside.

The box felt light and didn’t have any information on it except for your address. Placing the letters in the small mail slot near your door, you examined the box, lifting it to your ear as you gently shook it.

You couldn’t hear anything so you went to the kitchen to carefully open it with a knife. Light blue gift paper stuck out as you lifted the flaps open and you creased your eyebrows. This paper looks familiar.

You pulled it out and gasped, seeing a Tiffany & Co. business card on top of a light blue box with white satin ribbon tied around it, a bow sitting on the lid. You grasped the box and opened it, seeing a bracelet catching the sunlight through the windows, shining brightly in a ray of rainbow colors.

“Who are you?” You whispered. First the roses and now an expensive piece of jewelry? You had no clue who would be sending you things like this. You were sure Bucky was going to freak out after seeing this. Gently placing the bracelet back inside of the box, you left it there so you could finish painting.

A few hours passed, and you had finished your project. The door suddenly opened, heavy boots being taken off made you smile.

Bucky stepped into view and you squealed, running up to him. You always felt so happy when he got home. “Bucky!” You giggled, running straight into his arms. Bucky chuckled and caught you, twirling you around before capturing your lips with his.

You smiled into the kiss as Bucky held you closer. He smelled like shampoo and aftershave from his shower this morning, with a hint of vanilla. Bucky set you down and held your cheeks in his hands, smiling down at you.

“You’ve got paint in your hair.” Bucky said with a laugh, his fingers trying to clean it off. You flapped his hands away and giggled. You suddenly remembered the little box you got earlier and you gasped. “Oh yeah! A box came today.” You said, walking away from Bucky. His demeanor changed immediately, jealousy and anger settling into his chest.

“What is it? Who is it from? Did they leave a note?” He bombarded you with questions as he ganged up on your heels into the kitchen. You grabbed the box and opened it, getting the bracelet out again.

You held it out for Bucky to see and he looked at it, his eyebrows creasing. “Okay, this it getting out of hand already. I’m gonna find this punk and give him a piece of my mind.” Bucky growled, taking the bracelet from you. “This is the last fucking straw!“ He yelled, his loud voice echoing through the hallway before he turned into the living room.

You sighed and looked up at him. “Bucky, it could be harmless.” You explained, trying to catch up to Bucky as he turned away from you, his shoulders visibly tensing. He scoffed and shook his head. “Harmless? Another man is sending you gifts, Y/N!” Bucky exclaimed, turning to you and you got into the room.

Another sigh fell from your lips and you walked over to Bucky, pulling him into your arms. He stood still, his hand gripping tightly onto the bracelet. “I will figure out who this is, and I can’t promise I’ll be nice about it.” Bucky grumbled, his arms moving to wrap around your shoulders.


It’s been two weeks now and you’ve received another bouquet of roses and another piece of expensive jewelry, without a note of who it could be from. Bucky made many attempts at tracking the person down, but you hoped they would stop before he could hurt someone.

Suddenly, you heard the postman at the door. You rushed to the door, beating Bucky to it so he wouldn’t take any of this out on someone innocent. Luckily he was still in the kitchen. You opened the door and smiled at the postman, asking him how his morning has been so far.

“Rather lovely! Here’s your mail!” Charlie said with a chipper voice, his hand holding a few letters out to you. You took them with a smile and said goodbye. Charlie returned your smile before heading back down the walkway, his bag slung over his shoulder.

You shifted through the letters as you walked back inside, kicking the door shut behind you. Most of the letters were simple bills, but a purple colored envelope with your name written in cursive on it caught your attention.

You were nervous to open it, you never really got any letters from anyone personally. You used to when you first became an Avenger, but now, it was rare. Maybe this was one of those times. You only hoped so, so Bucky wouldn’t freak out. But as you opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, your eyes raking down the message, your accusations were wrong.

Bucky walked in with an unreadable expression as he crossed over and behind you, looking down at the letter over your shoulder.

Dear Y/N, I hope you’ve enjoyed the gifts! I was scared to face you, but I’d like to meet up with you! If it’s okay with you, you can meet me at-” Bucky ripped the letter from your hands as he read the address and he laughed. “Is this idiot serious right now!?” He shouted as he stared down at you. You gave him a small shrug.

Whoever wrote the letter wanted you to meet them at noon at some coffee shop. “Bucky, please, don’t do anything you’ll regret.” You pleaded, looking up at a rather angry man. Bucky’s jaw clenched and he slipped on his baseball cap.

“I don’t know who this is, you are not coming with me. It could be a trap and they could hurt you, they could-” Bucky rushed and you quickly stepped onto your toes and shut him up with a kiss. “I’m going with you. I’ll be okay.” You said with a small smile.

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed heavily. He looked back at you and shook his head gently. “I swear, he’s dead.” Bucky grumbled, grabbing your hand and making his way to the destination.

You took your time looking around the city, the sun shining brightly and a few birds flying around every now and then. Other than all of this, it was a nice day out. As you walked towards the coffee shop, you saw a familiar face standing outside, the man looking down at his watch.

You gasped as you realized who it was. It was your art partner, Riley. Was he the one that was sending you all of those gifts? “No way.” You whispered, catching Bucky’s attention. “Is that him?” Bucky asked as he caught sight of the man and immediately bolted towards him. “Hey! Punk!” Bucky yelled out, his metal hand whirring as he tightened his fist.

Riley’s head snapped towards you and Bucky, his eyes widening just in time for Bucky to lunge at him. Bucky grabbed Riley by his shirt and lifted him off of the ground. “So you’re the guy that’s been sending my wife gifts and love letters!?” Bucky yelled at Riley, moving to shove him against the brick building.

You stood back as you watched, your heart racing fast. “Bucky!” You yelled after him, noticing a few people slowly walk by as they took in the scene. The last thing you wanted was for Bucky to end up on the news channel for lashing out on someone in the public eye, so you knew you had to do something.

Rushing over to Bucky, you grabbed his arm. He was breathing heavily as he dropped Riley to the ground. Riley was pretty shaken up and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. “Bucky, let me talk to him. He’s from my art class.“ You said softly, moving to help Riley up. Bucky scoffed and looked at you bewildered. “Are you serious, Y/N!?” Bucky yelled out.

Riley stood back up and looked between you and Bucky. “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. I didn’t mean any harm. She never mentioned a boyfriend.” Riley explained nervously. You let out a sigh. “I told you about Bucky, remember? He’s my husband.” You said, moving towards Bucky again. He pulled you into his side protectively.

Riley’s eyebrows creased. “I’ve never seen a ring.” He commented. You lifted up your left hand, the diamond shining in the sunlight. A soft ‘oh’ fell from his lips. Bucky pushed you behind him as he walked forward. Riley took a cautious step backward. “Listen, man, it’s only a misunderstanding.” He squeaked, holding his hands up.

Bucky snarled at him and turned back to you, quickly pulling you away without another word. You didn’t dare look back at Riley, no matter how bad you felt. He was really nice and welcomed you into the art class with a warm gesture. But you never thought he’d be your secret admirer.

You never wore your ring to art class after the first day, you almost had it snagged off by your smock. Bucky was silent most of the way home and you weren’t sure what to say. He left your side as soon as you stepped into the door, and went straight to the bedroom.

You followed after him, watching him closely. Bucky didn’t look angry anymore. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes held a sadness you’ve never seen before.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly as you moved to stand in front of Bucky. His head was hanging low and he shook it, his hair framing his face under his cap. You lifted his chin up with your finger and looked into his eyes. “Talk to me, baby.” You whispered, noticing his blue eyes had grown a light shade of grey.

Bucky sighed and moved his hands to your waist, his thumbs digging into your skin. “It’s just-the thought of someone else feeling how I feel about you-it scares me.” Bucky mumbled, leaning into your hand on his cheek. You smiled gently and took off his cap, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Hey, come on, I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere.” You said, pressing more kisses to his face.

After a few more, Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle. He pulled you onto him and fell onto his back on the mattress as you straddled him. You looked down at Bucky, letting your noses graze one another’s in an eskimo kiss. “You know I love you, James.” You said, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. “Even when you’re jealous.” You added with a sly smirk.

Bucky pulled you closer, his metal hand keeping you in place. “I love you, too. Wait- no, I am not jealous.” He deadpanned, a hint of truth behind his words. You giggled and kissed his lips. You pulled away too soon for his liking and he groaned, rubbing his hands along your lower back. “You are.” You said, kissing his lips again.

“Am not.” Kiss. “Are too.” Kiss. “Am not.” Kiss. “Fuck, can you blame me?” Bucky asked as he rolled on top of you, moving his hands underneath your shirt. You smiled and let out a breathy giggle. “Just kiss me.” You whispered, pulling him down by his collar. “Gladly.” He mumbled against your lips.

Note: yikes, I hope this doesn’t suck! .c

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zimbits au wherein a run in with the lax bros leads to a run in with jack

Eric’s walking down the street, latte in one hand and phone in the other, only a very little bit lost on his spontaneous scenic detour to the library. He’s halfway through composing a tweet when several air-horns blast in his direction at once.

He swears, jumps about a mile out of his skin, and drops both his coffee and his phone.

The coffee, sadly, goes up before it comes down, and manages to splash all over his front before spilling across his shoes too. He quickly retrieves his phone from the pavement before it’s similarly attacked by the travelling coffee, and checks it over for damage. He sighs out when he sees it’s only a little scratched on the side of the case, and presses a palm to his chest to try and calm the furious beating of his heart.

He looks over to the house across the way, out of which several, men—actually, boys, Eric’s going to call them after that stunt—are laughing at him, and high-fiving each other. Eric flushes and screws his lips together, telling himself not to cry in front of them, not to give them the satisfaction.

“Hey! Dickfaces!”

Eric looks behind him to see a moustached man flipping the bird to the boys in the house across the street.

“Fuck off to your basement of inadequacy and wine coolers, you absolute shitfuckers.”

The boys don’t take his advice, but rather, blast their air-horns again which causes Eric to hunch up his shoulders.

“Hey, brah, you alright?” The man walks up to Eric and looks him over. “Shit, dude. They got you good.”

Eric sighs out, trying to keep his composure. “It’s alright. Thanks for telling them off.”

“Fucking LAX bros. I live for telling them off. Come on inside and I’ll help you clean up.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

IDK if you saw the post about how, before the Death Star plans were captured, the asset Bail was sending was *Leia herself* to Obi-Wan. But I'd like an AU based on that. No Death Star Plans, only a 19-year-old-girl strong in the Force, trying to beat the Empire.

She didn’t—

Luke cocked his head, watching the girl in white move through the marketplace. He couldn’t figure out what it was about her, why one minute he had been engrossed in Waing’s new shipment of power converters and the next he was staring at her, totally unable to tear his eyes away. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gone from one to the other, except he had, and now he was watching her. It was important he watch her, he knew it was important, though he couldn’t figure out how he knew that, or why.

It wasn’t that she stood out—sure, no one wore robes of that clean white, not unless they had a lot of slaves or droids to do the laundry for them, and yeah, she was the sort of pale you generally only saw in traders, who spent more time in artificial grav than sunslight. But she could be a water merchant’s daughter slumming it in Toshe, or an off-worlder, taking in the sights. (Not that they had many sights to see in Toshe, Luke thought with a snort.) And nobody else seemed to notice her; she stopped at Kinqua’s stall and dipped her fingers into the bowl Kinqua left out for tasting, and lifted it to her lips, licked the droplets away.

Luke had seen Kinqua casually lop off a child’s hand for that.

Skywalker,” Waing said, startling Luke out of his thoughts. “You made a decision? Or are you just going to keep feeling up my tech until it agrees to go home with you?”

“Cool your drives, Waing,” Luke said mildly, but he was still staring at the girl in white. She had two droids trundling after her, he realized belatedly—an astromech and a protocol droid, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying at this distance. Their lights were flashing, though, and he wished he could read visual binary.

“Oh, I see,” Waing said after a minute, and Luke could hear them smirking. “My tech isn’t all you’re hoping to take back to the Whitesun-Lars homestead.”

Luke felt his face go hot, and he forced himself to look back at Waing. They were smirking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said coolly, but he couldn’t focus on the power converters anymore. The girl in white, had she—

“Pardon me.”

This close it was abundantly obvious that she wasn’t from Tatooine—no one from this planet carried that air of interestingness with them, like they had a secret that might change the whole course of your life. She must be an off-worlder. “I’m looking for Obi-Wan Kenobi. Do you know where I might find him? I was told he lives near here—”

“Old Ben?” Luke cut in, before Waing could answer. “Do you mean Old Ben?”

The girl in white looked at him for a long moment, and Luke felt the back of his neck heating up. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “Is he near here?”

“Oh, sure,” Luke laughed, more out of relief than anything else. “Old Ben’s just a few klicks from here, he lives near the western gorge—I could take you, if you want,” Luke said quickly, because she looked increasingly put-out, and he felt something in his chest twinge in answer to it.

But she shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but this is a personal matter.”

“It’ll cost you serious credits if you charter a speeder,” Luke said. “I’m headed that way anyway, let me take you. And your droids. Really,” he said, because she still looked uncertain. “It’s no trouble.”

She looked at him for a long moment, and her dark eyes were very serious. (He liked her eyes, for no particular reason he could figure out.) “My name is Leia,” she finally said, sticking her hand out. 

“Luke,” Luke laughed, taking it and shaking it. It was cool and smooth, and if he’d needed any confirmation she was from off-world, that was it. “Skywalker. My uncle owns a moisture farm in the eastern hemisphere.”

“I’m—not from around here,” she said, and Luke almost laughed because—well, obviously.

“Consider yourself lucky,” Luke said, and something of her tiredness and tightness (why did he know she was tired, down to her bones?) eased. She smiled back, a small smile. Luke counted it as a victory.

“I am C-3PO,” the protocol droid cut in, sticking his head between them as though it would stop them from looking at one another. He was burnished gold, and in the high sunslight it hurt to look at him. “And this is my companion, R2-D2.”

The astromech whistled a greeting, and Luke laughed. “Pleasure to meet—all of you. My speeder’s docked by the Ithorian, if you want…?”

“Hey, Skywalker, aren’t you going to buy anything?” Waing interrupted, and Luke winced, barely managing to tear his eyes away from Leia, who was still smiling, very slightly.

“Sorry, uh—maybe next week?” Luke offered lamely, but he was already ushering Leia and her droids away, and he could hear her laugh, very softly. (His chest fell too full, hearing it.)

It felt strange, formal and right, to help her into the speeder. Her hand in his was a kind of symmetry, inexplicable, the way he knew how a speeder was supposed to fit together, how a full tank of moisture sounded when you rapped it with a knuckle. Organic and totally without reason, their hands fitting together. She still hadn’t told him her surname, if she had a surname. Where she was from. What she was doing here. What her droids were doing here.

Luke couldn’t help but trust her utterly. Otherwise, why did her hand feel like that, resting in his?

What do you need to see Old Ben for?” Luke shouted over the rush of air around the speeder.

I told you,” Leia shouted back. The white hood she wore had fallen back, and her hair was dark. Even carefully styled, those loops over her ears, strands came loose, whipping around her face. “It’s personal!”

They stopped at the farm first, just to refuel and drop off the handful of things Luke did buy—rations, holonews downloads, some sucrose-candies for Aunt Beru. But when they touched down, Owen went white beneath his sunsburn, staring at Leia like she was a creature from another galaxy. “Your Highness,” he breathed, and Luke had to correct him, just an off-worlder looking for Old Ben; don’t pay her any mind. Look, Uncle Owen, I brought you your Almanac—

Leia was silent; picking at a loose thread in her white, white robes.

(Afterwards, she was silent, her arms crossed over her waist. They sped across the desert, which was gathering dark by the armful. “Sorry,” Luke said, trying to keep himself from shivering, “I know it gets cold at night.”

“It’s all right,” Leia said. “On—my planet, it snowed. We had mountains, and we would build whole castles out if it, out of snow. It was beautiful.”

“I’d like to see snow,” Luke said, but he thought it was lost in the sound of the speeder, because she didn’t reply.)

By the time they reached Old Ben’s place, it was dark enough for a lamp to be burning, the light spilling beneath the door and out the window. Luke watched as Leia knocked on the daub doorframe, shivering.

Still, it was worth staying just to watch the flicker of Old Ben’s expression from surprise to shock when he greeted her. He called her by a name that was definitely not ‘leia’ and Luke watched her shoulders hitch. “No,” Leia said finally. “I am Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan. I am the daughter of Queen Breha Organa and Viceroy Bail Organa, and I am—I am here to beg your aid for the rebellion.”

Luke wasn’t so surprised that he didn’t notice Ben’s eyes cut to him, and then away.

“Princess,” Ben said finally, with an awful heaviness. Luke had brought him ration packs and listened to his stories he had never sounded like that before, like it was something awful and deep beyond saying. “If they sent you to find me, they must be very desperate.”

“No,” she said quickly, and Luke knew she was lying. “No, but—we need Jedi. We cannot go forward, we cannot fight, if the Force is not with us.”

This time, Old Ben’s stare lingered on Leia, then on Luke. He seemed to be making up his mind about something, though Luke couldn’t say what. Old Ben had always struck him as a sort of harmless religious sort; in another world he might have been a Jedi like in the stories, but instead he was a desert madman, talking to the air and clutching at a bit of carbon tubing like it was a lightsaber.

There was nothing harmless about the way he was looking at them now.

“I’ve been happy here,” Old Ben muttered, quietly, like an apology.

“Fine,” Leia said, almost a snarl. Luke could only see her in silhouette, against the light from Old Ben’s hut. He thought suddenly of a predator, something that could leap on the unsuspecting. “But no one ever promised us happiness.”

Luke could see Old Ben’s throat work. “Come in,” he said at last. His gaze darted to Luke, and Luke caught his breath. “What I have to say is—for both of you, now.”

Luke shut off the speeder.

(He had followed Leia into Old Ben’s hut, and didn’t come out the same man. No, not the same man at all.)

Most people kicked, talked, or walked in their sleep. But then again, Merlin was not most people. Arthur shook his head fondly, watching the little creatures dance. He’d kept the idiot’s secret so far, a little longer wouldn’t hurt. (Or the one where Arthur already knows that Merlin conjures odd things in his sleep, but he loves to watch them so much that he drags Merlin everywhere with him.)

Ten Basic Rules For Better Living
by Manly P. Hall

1. Stop worrying

The popular idea that a worrier is a thoughtful and conscientious citizen is false. The Egyptians realized this when they included worry among the cardinal sins. Do not confuse thoughtfulness and worry. The thoughtful person plans solutions, but the worrier merely dissolves in his own doubt. If you think straight, you will have less cause for worrying. The worrier not only suffers the same disaster many times, but undermines his health and annoys all others with whom he comes into contact. There are many things in this world that require thoughtful consideration, but there is really nothing to fear but fear.

2. Stop trying to dominate and posses your friends and relatives

Each of us likes to feel that he is running his own life. The moment we recognize the rights of others to seek life, liberty, and happiness according to their own dreams, hopes, and aspirations, we begin to conserve our own resources. It is very debilitating to give advice which is ignored or rejected, and equally disappointing to attempt to posses and dominate persons who immediately resent and combat our dictatorial tendencies. We are hurt when they do not see things our way. If we save advice for ourselves and those who seek it from us, and who are therefore grateful, all concerned will be the better.

3. Moderate ambition

There is a tendency to overlook natural and simple blessings while we plunge on toward distant goals. Each individual has certain capacities. If he can recognize his own abilities and work with them, he can attain personal security. If, however, he is constantly seeking that which is not reasonably attainable, he can never know happiness or contentment. The wise man observes the disastrous results of uncontrollable ambitions, and chooses moderation. It is not necessary to be famous in order to be happy, nor must one be the leading citizen in the community in order to gratify ones social instinct. The ambitious usually pay too much for what they get, and are the more miserable after they get it.

4. Do not accumulate more than you need

There is no real distinction in being the richest man in the graveyard. Many earnest citizens act as though there were pockets in shrouds. We are supposed to have outgrown the primitive belief that we should bury a mans goods with him so that his spirit might enjoy them in the afterworld. Here, again, the middle course is the wisest. Let us reserve some of our energy for enjoyment, and not give all of ourselves to the task of accumulation. Many a man who has made a million has not lived to spend it. A rich life can be more practical than a monumental bank account.

5. Learn to relax

Great tension is an abomination. The more tense we become, the more stupidly we are likely to act, and, according to the old Buddhists, stupidity is a cardinal sin. Today, many so-called efficient people are perpetually on the verge of a nervous breakdown. This is not so likely to be due to overwork as to unreasonable driving impulses from within themselves. Some say that they are overtaxing their resources to keep their jobs or to maintain extravagant families. Whether you believe it or not, you are a better producer and a better provider if you do not collapse from psychic exhaustion at some critical moment when you are most in need of good health. If your associates do not realize this, they may be in need of practical counsel.

6. Cultivate a sense of humor

As never before, we must brighten and lighten the corners where we are. The more seriously we take ourselves and our responsibilities, the duller we become. It is a saving grace to realize that, although living is a serious matter, we can take it too seriously. Also bear in mind that genuine humor is not bitter, cynical, or critical. It is the ability to laugh with the world and not at the world. If we must laugh at someone, let it be ourselves. Humor is a spice to living. It adds flavor to work, zest to play, charm to self-improvement, and proves to others that we have a security within ourselves. A sincere, happy laugh, like the joyous rippling of childrens laughter, relieves tension and restores good nature. Incidentally, it makes friends and inspires confidence.

7. Find a reason for your own existence

Unless you believe in something bigger than yourself, have some purpose more vital than accumulation or advancement in business or society, you are only existing, not living. A simple pattern is to realize that the laws of Nature that put you here seem to be primarily concerned with growth. You are a success to the degree that you grow, and you grow to the degree that you become a wiser, more useful, and more secure person. In other words, we live to learn, and by this very process, we learn to live. Broaden your horizon, develop an interest in all that is fine, beautiful, and purposeful. Great internal good comes from the love for music, art, great literature, broad philosophy, and simple faith. Strengthen the inside of your nature, and the outside will be better.

8. Never intentionally harm another person

Never by word or deed return evil for good, or evil for evil. Weed negative and destructive thoughts and emotions out of your personality, or they will ultimately contribute to your misery. As we look around us, we see the tragic results of individuals and nations that harbor grudges or nurse the instincts for revenge. The harmless life saves those who live it from many of the mortal shocks that flesh is heir to. Our critical attitudes and our long memories of evils that others have caused only reduce our present efficiency and endanger health and vitality. Even the selfish man realizes that he cannot afford to keep a grudge, and the unselfish simply will not permit grudges to accumulate because they know better and they believe better.

9. Beware of anger

When ill-temper controls us, we are no longer able to control ourselves. In a moment of anger, we may create a situation which will require years to remedy. Why should we spend our time trying to recover from our own mistakes? If we disapprove, let us state our case simply and quietly, and remember that we should never try to correct another when we have already committed a fault as great as his. A quick temper is a serious handicap in business or in the home. It is useless to say that we cannot control anger. This is as much as to admit that we have lost the power to control ourselves. If we resent the unkindness of others and the collective irritability of this generation, let us make sure that we are not one of the irritating factors.

10. Never blame others for our own mistakes

It is hardly necessary. Each of us seems to have an incredible capacity to do things badly and select unwisely. Actually, we are in trouble because we have not made constructive use of the power and abilities which we received as a birthright. Others can hurt us only while our inner life is too weak to sustain in the presence of trial or test. Instead of resenting misfortunes, and seeking to excuse our own limitations, we must face the facts. Either we are stronger than the problem and can solve it intelligently, or the problem is stronger than we are, and the only solution is to increase our own strength. Others are not to blame for our unhappiness. Each man must seek his own peace of mind, and, as the Arabian Nights so well expressed it, happiness must be earned.

Ink my Skin

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Rating: Teens and Up
Summary: Steve wants to draw on Reader’s skin and she doesn’t expect what she sees in the mirror.
Words Count: 1.5k
Genre: Fluff!
Warnings: none.

Special thank you to @punkrockhippiefromthefourties for being my beta! xx

Originally posted by baylee004

As you sat on one of the two armchairs in your bedroom, you tucked your leg under the other while your bare feet rested on the edge of the coffee table. You held your tablet in your hands with your earbuds in your ears, watching your favorite show on Netflix.

You had come back from an assignment only a few hours ago and all you wanted to do was have some time for yourself and your boyfriend, Steve. The breaks from work were rare since you had joined the Avengers a year and a half ago, but the good side was you had found a family and a loving boyfriend.

Being with Steve wasn’t easy; sometimes he’d be a workaholic with his light obsession for the orders and rules, which affected your relationship because you couldn’t spend any day together like a normal couple without being interrupted. But, you knew that when you officially became a couple six months ago. When you had joined the team, Steve wasn’t looking for a relationship and neither were you, but being friends with him made you realize that maybe there was something important behind all these harmless conversations in the middle of the night and those loving glances you threw at each other when you were in the same room.

Little by little, you gave yourselves a chance and it worked. You really liked each other and even when no one had said the L word, you knew that Steve cared about you and he would give anything to stay with you. There was an obvious meaningful passion between you two, but you kept things slow as you were willing to build something serious together.

At this late hour of the afternoon, you knew Steve was still debriefing the mission with some of your teammates. He was probably checking his report before he’d join you in your room like you had asked him to. It was very common; he liked to finish everything just to be sure that he wouldn’t be interrupted when he’d be by your sides. You could confess that you liked this side of him and you understood because you’d do the same. It was your job after all.

“Y/N?” You heard the super soldier’s voice behind your door as he knocked softly. That was something you admired in his personality, even if your relationship had already become very intimate, he’d always give you some privacy.

“Come on in,” you chuckled and he closed the door behind him once he had gotten inside. “Hey.” You smiled and he kissed the top of your head tenderly.

“Hi.” Steve sat next to you and appreciated for a second the relaxing message your body gave. “I’m sorry, I’ve been busy… Tony wants to throw another party to celebrate the awaited end our last mission.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Well, I wasn’t either,” he laughed and you noticed the way his eyes lingered on your figure. He detailed everything from the way your legs shone with the sun and how adorable you looked with your tablet sitting on your lap as the only earbud you had removed went lying on your chest.

“You mind if I take a photo of you?” He asked and you blinked, unsure. “I want to draw you right now ‘cause I know that when you’re on Netflix, you can’t stay in position.”

“Go ahead.” You smiled and mentally noted how good it felt to finally see him peaceful, having some rest like everyone else. “Like this?” You shifted your weight a little and then moved your legs

“Uh… can you go back to that other position, please?” He looked at you with a hand on his chin and finally stood to take the camera Natasha had offered him. “It was the best angle with the light on your skin.”

"Sure.” You felt the butterflies flying in your stomach and you took back your previous position. “Is it okay now?”

“If you could move your head a bit more on your left.” He zoomed in and you did as you were told. “Yeah, just like that. Thank you, doll.”

After he had resolved some problems with the camera, he eventually held it in front of his eye and captured the smile he had learned to love dearly. As he looked down at the result of his work, he felt his heart beating faster when the same smile he missed when you weren’t around him was showed to him perfectly.

“Am I funny?” He asked, looking up at you through his ridiculously long eyelashes as he heard you giggle.

“I just realized how lucky I am to have you,” you cooed. He came closer to you and leaned to leave a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I fell for you first,” he whispered and you parted your lips to say something before he cut you off. “You know what? I think I have an idea. Wait a minute, I won’t be long!”

“But-” Your desire to protest found no relief as he rushed out of your bedroom. Raising an eyebrow, you tossed the tab on the bed and wondered what he had exactly in mind.

“Here.” Steve walked back inside the room and closed the door. “I’ve found it,” he exclaimed happily with his favorite black marker in hand.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he sat on the chair beside your desk.

“Can I draw on your skin?”

“What?” You scanned his eyes, trying to find some humor inside. “I mean- I… I’m flattered, really, but usually, people draw on papers, you know.”

“I know,” he laughed nervously and shrugged nonchalantly. He would always do this when he was flustered. “Trust me on this one, you’re gonna like it.”

“Uh… all right, I was done with Netflix, anyway. Let’s do this!”

“Come and have a seat.” Steve put a stool in front of his chair and patted the wood. You got comfortable on the furniture as your back faced him and you waited for the next move.

“Take off your shirt, please.” He asked in your ear and you nipped your lower lip between your teeth. You slowly got rid of your favorite material and let it fall at your feet, exposing you in your sports bra.

“Where are you going to draw?”

“Here.” You turned your head to the side as he touched the part of your skin next to the shoulder blade.

Steve kissed your skin slowly, breathing in as if he wanted your scent to intoxicate him. You closed your eyes and a shaky breath slipped through your mouth as his finger roamed over your spine methodically. Your senses tingled your skin as you felt his warm lips trailing light kisses from your shoulder up to the back of your neck.

“Sorry, I wanted to do this first.” By the tone of his voice, you knew he wore this boyish grin on his face.

As a hand encircled your waist, your boyfriend began to move the pen on your skin with all his tenderness. The black marker moved as though it danced slowly on your body. You felt the cold ink giving you sweet chills, contrasting drastically with his smooth and warm hand touching up to your side. As if he knew what went through your mind, Steve leaned to blow some air on the ink and you arched your back unwillingly.

“Stop moving.”

“Your hand is tickling me,” you pointed out and he poked your hip. “Steve!”

“Stay still,” he chuckled and you pressed your lips together. “Have I told you how beautiful you are today?” He asked and you pretended to search your mind.

“I can’t seem to remember.”

“Well, you’re gorgeous, Y/N.”

Your boyfriend remained focused on drawing on your skin another long minute where he strategically altered between sweet nothings and careful caresses. He eventually put the marker down on the desk with a proud smile on his beautiful face and a new excitability.

"Finished!” Steve blew on the fresh ink to dry it and stood up. “You can see it.”

You stood from the stool with an excited beam and Steve took the mirror you always kept in your drawer. As he held it behind your back, showing your shoulder, your head moved over to discover his work.

You gasped silently and brought a hand to your mouth as you took the time to process everything. Steve looked into your eyes with hope each time you read the inscription written on your skin.

I love you… Perfectly written in decorative hand while a small drawing of Captain America’s shield gave this personalized meaning.

“Steve.” You were speechless for a short moment. You thought how ridiculously cute and unexpected from him it was, but you mainly couldn’t contain your feelings anymore.

“So…?” Steve asked, rubbing the back of his neck with a light blush and you turned to face him. You took the mirror from his hands and tipped on your toes. You sealed a  passionate and meaningful kiss on his lips as nothing else mattered at this moment.

“I love you, too.”


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Gravity Falls AU

Rather than being twins, Lance and Pidge are best friends who wind up at the Mystery Shack because of Pidge. She’s been searching for cryptids her whole life, and she has a pen pal by the name of Hunk who is constantly sharing all of these stories about his home town and the weird things that go on there. So, directly after graduating high school, the two of them set out to Altea (Gravity Falls).

Pidge here is, obviously, taking the place of Dipper. She’s searching for the abnormal, the mysterious, wants to prove to Lance that things like Bigfoot and aliens do exist. Her older brother Matt went missing when she was just a kid, and she’s convinced something paranormal took him and needs to prove it. He was 16 when he disappeared, she was 8, and he vanished while on his yearly camping trip with some friends in Altea. 

Lance becomes Mabel, obsessed with knitting and boys (and girls) and, even though he is skeptical about all things supernatural (except ghosts, ghosts are totally real), he cares about Pidge a lot and he knows she wants to find Matt. He calls her the little sister he wanted instead of the ones he got (she’s a year younger than him, skipped a grade in middle school, and he stood up for her against a bunch of bullies. They’ve been joined at the hip since). 

Hunk, Pidge’s pen pal in this au, is Soos. He works for the Mystery Shack, so he gets a first hand look at everything that goes on in the woods surrounding the area. He has also just graduated high school and is saving money, taking a skip year before going to college for engineering, and his friend Shiro offered him the job. 

Shiro is replacing Grunkle Stan. Shiro is 25, and he moved up to Oregon after a camping incident that happened when he was just 16 (shocker, same one that made Matt vanish). He’s agreed to take Pidge and Lance in when they get there, seeing as he has an extra room upstairs, so long as they pitch in every now and then. If Hunk trusts them, so does he, but Hunk failed to mention that Pidge was Matt’s sister, so the moment Shiro lays eyes on Pidge he almost passes out, she looks so much like Matt. Pidge doesn’t recognize Shiro, having only met him twice, before he had scars and muscles and a prosthetic (which he got from a nasty encounter with a certain shapeshifter), so he keeps quiet about her missing brother. 

The only other person who works at the Mystery Shack is Keith, taking on the role of Wendy. He has a rocky relationship with his father and brothers and spends most of his time working. He’s fairly chill, irked but amused by Lance’s cheerfulness and Pidge’s enthusiasm. 

Couple of other, minor things:

- Kaltenecker instead of Waddles

- Haggar instead of Bill (lets be honest, she’s the real villain of Voltron)

- Coran as McGucket; his mind was fried a long time ago, but he’s still an incredibly brilliant scientist and inventor, and anyone who sits down and talks to him realizes that he’s actually kind of a genius. 

- There wasn’t really a character that fit Allura super well, so we’ll say she replaces Lazy Susan and owns the diner. She flirts with Shiro every single time he comes in, and can kick ass when necessary. Her father was the former mayor.

- Shiro, unlike Grunkle Stan, isn’t scroogey about his money for greed reasons. He needs it to fund his underground research into what happened to Matt. Of course, he knows; Matt was sucked into a portal directly on top of the property where Shiro built the Mystery Shack. But he needs to figure out how to get him back. 

- Zarkon is a bit of a lesser evil; he’s the shapeshifter that Lance and Pidge find in the bunker under the Shack, and he’s obsessed with getting the journal back. 

- Among the things they run into: Arusians (replacing the gnomes, and slightly less hostile), Luxia, a mermaid stuck in the local pool, a bunch of Galra who attempt to teach Lance about manliness (Manotaurs; cue I’ll Make a Man Out of You sequence with Thace and Ulaz), Nyma, a video game that tries to kill Lance (Giffany), and Balmerans, who they find trapped in the underground sap whatnot after Kaltenecker gets stolen by a pterodactyl (cows belong outdoors, Lance). 

- Keith is a champion at climbing trees, skinning things, and all around being a badass. Lance is more than a little infatuated. 

- Voltron is created when all five of Matt’s journals are brought together, forming a spell that has the ability to defeat Haggar, who drove Matt insane during the camping trip. 

- Pidge constantly thinks the handwriting in the journals looks familiar, but she can’t quite place why.

- Matt started the journals when he and Shiro were 12, when they first started going camping in Altea with their parents, and continued them all up until he was 16, when Haggar started harassing him. He hid four of them around the town, paranoid that someone was going to find them, and entrusted the last one to Shiro before he was swallowed up by the portal. Each of them is marked by a different color on the “V” symbol; the one Shiro has is black, and the one Pidge finds is green. Lance later finds a blue one hidden behind the arcade.

- Sendak becomes Gideon, and he’s found the yellow one. When he’s defeated, Shiro takes that one for himself. 

- Pidge’s symbol remains the pine tree, seeing as she is a nature spirit. Lance, instead of being a shooting star, is a wave, Shiro a bolt of lightning, Keith a flame, and Hunk a mountain. Allura is a flower (shaped suspiciously like a juniberry) and Coran is a wrench. Matt, when he comes back, is the Voltron “V”

- If none of this convinces you: 

Look at this cute doodle by @artsyfalafel of Pidge in Dipper wear and Lance in a mermaid sweater

Wait For Me To Come Home - Sebastian x Reader - One Shot

Originally posted by mebeingbored1

A/N - Got myself into the little sebby family mood again. Featuring Isabella as always aha.

Sebastian x Reader - You are completely secure in your relationship with Sebastian, until you start reading some articles that make you doubt yourself. Sebastian gets rid of your insecurities by helping you relive some of your memories together.

Warnings: Fluff and angst  - It’s a long one.

Keep reading

playing with fire | (m)

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

• pairing: jeon jungkook x reader, college! jungkook
genre/warnings: smut, explicit sexual descriptions, exhibitionist themes, slightly-sub! jungkook, switch themes, oral sex, face sitting
• words: 8,460
→ summary: jungkook seems to have a little crush on you, and no matter how much you try to ignore it, you seem to be losing your resolve with each passing day…

Keep reading

rocknrollphanda  asked:

Could you maybe make a list of your favorite 8th year drarry? I read Lumos and now I need more so I was wondering if you had anything worth recommending ;D?

Good to Me (And I’d Be So Good to You) by AWickedMemory (ReadyPlayerZero) Words:8905

Everyone returns to Hogwarts after the war, but nothing is quite the same. Harry’s groupies are creepier than ever, Ron and Hermione are snogging all over the place, and the once-proud Draco is shuffling around like a kicked puppy. But that’s okay: Harry’s got a plan.

Battle Scars by SeaweedPrincess Words:29831

Spiders, rats, wrongly-boiled Veritaserum, a couple of dangerous bets and drunk parties – all with all, it was bound to be a hectic eight year at Hogwarts for the golden trio. Trying to ignore the ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy, however, turned out to be more difficult than ever before. Especially when he seemed to be as obsessed with Harry as Harry was with him. DRARRY. SLASH. Rating may go up in future chapters.

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:21139

It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that’s ever so cross.

Hey, Potter by SunseticMonster Words:16024

Harry returns to Hogwarts for his 8th year, determined not to let Malfoy get to him. But when the snarky teasing starts up again, Harry finds that returning the jibes with compliments has a far more interesting outcome.

Lumos by birdsofshore Words:41478

Harry never expected to spend eighth year listening to Draco Malfoy wanking.

Zero to Hero by Cheryl Dyson Words: 10,632

Harry returns to Hogwarts for his “8th year” in order to pass his N.E.W.T.s and make it into the Auror program. One of his classes is Muggle Studies and the new teacher has a brilliant idea to help them appreciate certain forms of Muggle entertainment.

The Ties That Bind Us by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:27890

An accident leaves Draco and Harry bound tightly together. Literally.

Matters of Influence by anathema91 Words:19198

Draco should have taken his NEWTs over the summer with Pansy and Greg. Repeating 7th year with Potter fresh off his saved-the-world tour struck Malfoy as the height of stupidity more than once. McGonagall’s diabolical plan only made things worse. Or did it?

A Time to Move On by SESHETA_66 Words:15500

With the war behind them, and wounds still raw, the students at Hogwarts try to work out what their futures might hold for them, and perhaps recapture a little of their lost youth along the way.

Lucky Break by naturegirlrocks Words:4700

The day before Halloween Harry crashes into Draco during a friendly quidditch match. Hidden secrets come to light.

An Old Habit by fireflavored Words:8800

The boys have changed a lot over the summer after the war, but Harry hasn’t gotten over the urge to spy on Malfoy.

Simulacrum by slashpervert Words:3011

Draco sends a gift to Potter and finds himself in a difficult but erotic position.

Snowstorms and Interventions by fr333bird Words:9095

Draco is pining after Harry, but is so sure that his feelings aren’t reciprocated that he wastes a golden opportunity. Pansy comes to the rescue and takes matters into her own hands to ensure a happy ending.

Marginal Notes by blamebrampton Words:9398

When you’re 18, and nothing is as it was meant to be, sometimes it can be hard to let the right people know what you are thinking.

An Act of Simple Devotion by blamebrampton Words:13368

It’s a age-old story. You fancy a boy and you think he fancies you. Sure there are problems – attacks on former Death Eaters, crazed tabloid journalists and your girlfriend – but you have a cunning plan. Now if he’d only explain the L. Ron Hubbard-like references …

Say Anything by alovelycupoftea Words:6000

When Draco loses his reserve and starts speaking his mind, Harry realises something is very wrong.

Deserving by Cassis Luna Words:2612

From the prompt: “What if one day everyone was brewing Amortentia and Harry walks in. Of course, he doesn’t know what they’re brewing, so the first thing he says is ‘Why does the room smell like it’s drenched in Malfoy’s cologne’ and then everyone, including Draco, just looks at him.

Right Hand Red by lumosed_quill Words:73173

Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy.

Malfoy felt inevitable.

Games Night by agentmoppet Words:6805

Harry has no idea why Hermione decided that an inter-house Games Night would be a good idea, but he’s here now, and he intends to beat Malfoy, no matter what game he chooses. But, who would have thought muggle games could be full of so much… tension?

Dear Diary by AWickedMemory (ReadyPlayerZero) Words:20427

After the war, Harry picks up a journal to write in… and it writes back. Luckily, it’s not a Horcrux on the other end this time.

Days Before You Came by panicparade Words:5476

Ten days before the end of his Eighth year at Hogwarts is when Harry realises that he probably, maybe, loves Draco Malfoy.

Who I Really Am by agentmoppet Words:8541

Draco seems to have changed since the war, and is insisting on making amends for his actions. But he’s still a Malfoy, for heaven’s sake… And, it would seem, a Malfoy with a certain kink…

The Standard You Walk Past by bafflinghaze Words:46201

On returning to Hogwarts for their Eighth Year, Headmistress McGonagall decided to room Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter together. She may have hoped for a leading example of house unity; the other students fully expected insults and fights. But nothing happened.

That was, until Harry sleepwalked into Draco’s bed.

Good Company by Greenflares Words:8223

With Hermione and Ron always together, Harry’s return to Hogwarts to complete his education isn’t exactly fun. Somehow, it’s his unlikely friendship with Malfoy that keeps him sane.

Instruction For A Misplaced Slytherin by bixgirl1 Words:8579

Potter stared at him with an intense, indecipherable expression. He cleared his throat. “You know what? It would be easier to learn if you just showed me,” he said abruptly.

In which Draco has a crush but fancies himself kind, Harry is oblivious but overly ambitious (and the teensiest bit sneaky), and things get dirty really fast.

Slammed by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:2038

Potter develops a worrying habit of randomly wall-slamming Draco all over the castle.

Mental by sara_holmes Words:186678

Harry has had quite enough of sharing his mind with someone else, thankyouverymuch. A miscast Legilimecy spell says otherwise.

‘Ohana by plumeria47 Words:11717

It started off so simple: sex whenever they wanted it, with no further expectations. But life has a funny way of turning everything up on its head.

This Is Fine by yesbocchan Words:3177

Eighth years have their own rooms at Hogwarts. It’s nice, Draco thinks, until he starts to notice the fact that Potter’s room is just in front of his.

The Morning After The Night Before by Oakstone730
Words:3599

Waking up after the Hufflepuff New Year’s Eve Party is an eye-opening experience for Draco. Prompt: Walk of Shame. Eighth Year. Warnings: Slash, Explicit, Language.

He Had Time by jeni_andtheafterthought Words:689

Harry stays up late alone in the eighth year common room until one night, Malfoy joins him.

Alive by FleetofShippyShips Words:3185

After the war, Harry is just angry, until finally, he’s not.

Vanilla and Sweet Spices by FleetofShippyShips Words:19699

After the others leave an eighth year party, Harry still has the rum he snagged off Dean. But the only person left to drink it with is Draco Malfoy.

Making Malfoy Blush by FleetofShippyShips Words:18320

Malfoy walks in on Harry in the showers after Quidditch and is surprisingly flustered. Spying the chance to embarrass him, Harry teases him at every opportunity to bring that blush back.

It’s all harmless winks and lip biting, and maybe a few heated looks; until it’s a kiss, and then another, and then Harry realises he never wants to stop.

If only Malfoy was as clear about what he wants.

The LipLock Jinx by Cassis Luna Words: 21436

It’s a jinx that renders the victim mute, unless he/she serves the purpose of the jinx and kisses the person that they desire. It’s just Harry’s luck that he’s in love with Draco. HPDM, oneshot, eighth year.

The Potter-Malfoy Problem by who_la_hoop Words:28939

The room of requirement’s gone mad — at least, that’s what Harry thinks. There’s no way that Draco Malfoy ‘requires’ him, of all people, but why does it keep dragging Harry there like he’s some kind of furniture, every time Malfoy enters it? Throw in Pansy the pervert and a clipboard-wielding Hermione, and things can only go from bad to worse. And that’s not even mentioning the pirates …

At Your Service by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:95752  

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There’s only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

ENJOY!

Quotes from Zevran that made me love him even more:

  • “We… are ridiculously awesome.”
  • “Elves plant these trees to remind themselves of who they once were. And then they pee on it. Charming symbolism, really.”
  • “The good thing about mages, I find, is that they die much like any other. You need to worry about what happens before that.”
  • “Have you ever heard the saying ‘let sleeping abominations lie’? Now would be the time to consider it.”
  • (Upon urging Ser Perth to use the oil in the siege of undead on Redcliffe) “A fine tactic. Provided it actually kills them and you don’t end up having to deal with FLAMING undead.”
  • “Ooh! A path that looks like it’s there, but is really a trap! I want one!”
  • “I’m sure there’s a moral in here…something about building bridges with friends, and such. Something poetic…oh, well.”
  • “What a remarkable amount of lava. Do you think anyone ever falls in?”
  • “That is a sexy sword, and I must have it.”
  • “Your husband? Dead. It was horrible, and so forth.”
  • “Do you know that there are poisons that I can ingest which would be harmless to me and yet be already killing you as we speak?”

Also, his laugh, and the tone he gets when you piss him off.

Not that I’ve ever pissed him off. Had to Google that shit. But, mmm, angry assassin.