oh my jules

Jemma being cute and lovely ft. paint at the beach \0/

Ok like I know we're not getting a Blackstairs baby anytime soon but I really want a Blackstairs baby
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OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD IM FUCKING DEAD OMG I WATCHED THIS IN THE PANERA PARKING LOT AND NOW IM FREAKING OUT TOO MUCH TO GET MY FUCKING MANGO SMOOTHIE

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Some gorgeousness to stare at Jules! 💕

Oh my sweet boys 😍😍😍😍 I love them so much! Thank you I needed this!!! Noctis and Ignis shall heal me with their beauty. Oh btw. I had a dream last night I snuggled with Ignis and it was a 13/10 experience 😍😍😍😍😘

anonymous asked:

Yes neck kisses all the way!!!!!! Jules is prob used to luc hanging off him when he's drunk and sloppily kissing his neck. He just kinda pats his butt and pulls him against his shoulder "yeah babe" just so luc knows all of Jules attention is on him

Julien is wearing a ripped shirt and Luc pokes his fingers into the holes and trails his fingers over the bare skin that’s exposed. I’ve decided that Luc is a giggling kind of drunk. He’s a giggler and more openly affectionate than usual, and he’s touching Julien in as many places as possible, from shoulder to hip to knee. It’s very inconvenient for walking but Jules learns to just stay still and let Luc hang on him until he gets tired and lets go a little bit. Also he showers him with soft affection bc gotta keep the drunk boyf happy

safarikalamari  asked:

Flintwood and 144?? :D

144. “You’re proud of me?”

Oliver sat in the abandoned classroom on the fifth floor, their usual meeting place, thinking this had all been a very bad idea. They had agreed to meet up today no matter who won the Quidditch Cup, but Oliver knew that when they made that arrangement neither of them actually thought they would be the one to lose. But Marcus and his team had lost – that was a fact Oliver had almost overlooked in the euphoria of his own team winning. There was no way Marcus was going to show.

Restlessness getting the better of him, Oliver stood and started pacing the small room. He’d wait another ten minutes– no five minutes– then he would leave. He wondered vaguely if he’d ever see Marcus again. Sure, maybe in the halls or in class, but if he didn’t show up now Oliver had a feeling they were over. 

He stopped pacing. That was a weird thought. And one that didn’t seem to sit well in Oliver’s chest. He had never been sure what to make of this… thing that had developed between him and Marcus after so many years of mutual animosity, but the thought of it coming to an end was… Oliver didn’t want to think about it. He started pacing again.

Unfortunately when he promised himself he’d only wait another five minutes, Oliver had forgotten to check the time, so now he had no idea how much time had passed. He groaned. This was ridiculous. Marcus wasn’t going to show. Oliver headed towards the door.

He reached out to grab the handle, when suddenly it met him halfway and the door was pushed open from the outside. Standing there was Marcus Flint.

Oliver just stared. Marcus stared back. Then his eyes looked over to where Oliver’s hand disappeared behind the door. He looked back up.

“Leaving?” Marcus asked. Oliver let go of the door handle.

“N-no,” he stammered, retreating back into the classroom. Marcus followed him in and closed the door behind him. Oliver started pacing again.

“Look, I know you’re pissed,” Oliver said, alternating between wringing his hands and running them through his hair. “I would be too. I know you’re going to punch me and fine, whatever, but it was a fair match. Well, our side played fair. Mostly. Okay, maybe not a fair match. But our Seeker outflew yours and–”

“I’m proud of you.” 

“–even after that dirty stunt that–” Oliver stopped and turned to Marcus. “Wait, what?”

Marcus looked embarrassed now that Oliver’s attention was on him. He avoided eye contact and gave a little cough. “I’m not repeating it,” he muttered at the ground.

“You’re proud of me?” Oliver said, unable to keep the shock from his voice as he repeated Marcus’ words. He expected Marcus to be feeling a lot of things towards him right now. Pride wasn’t one of them.

“I mean,” Marcus said, chancing a quick glance at Oliver who was now approaching him, “I know how hard you worked for this. Do I wish I could have left school on a winning season? Of course. But we threw everything at you and you still came out on top.” This time when Marcus looked up, his eyes stayed fixed on Oliver. “Did you really think I was going to fault you for that?”

“I didn’t– I mean…” Now it was Oliver’s turn to be embarrassed. He realized now that he hadn’t given Marcus enough credit. Somewhere along the way – between the rivalry and the sneaking off and the stolen kisses and the late nights – Marcus had matured without Oliver noticing. He thought he had gotten to know Marcus after all these years, but he had just been scratching the surface.

“You thought I was coming here to punch you,” Marcus said. Oliver expected him to be offended, but instead he just sounded amused. Even more proof Oliver didn’t know Marcus as well as he thought.

“Sorry about that,” Oliver mumbled. Marcus extended him a hand.

“C’mere.”

Oliver slid his hand into Marcus’ and let Marcus pull him closer.

“I wanna know what it’s like to kiss a Quidditch Cup winner,” Marcus said with a crooked grin. Oliver smiled back.

“That can be arranged.”

~Ophelia and Jules think they’re subtle. Everyone else just thinks they’re gay.~

Ophelia stood in front of the Zeta house, debating whether to follow through on her crazy plan. What in the sweet mother of hell have I done to deserve this? Curiosity getting the better of her, she entered. If any one asks, I’m here to sell weed. She’d never been happier to be ‘the weed girl’, not that she didn’t always love the identity. But now it made the perfect cover. The green hair didn’t exactly lend itself to subterfuge, so she’d have to hide in plain sight. 

One of her regular customers flagged her down, a Zeta whose name she couldn’t quite remember. Pheobe? Felicity? Something like that. 

“Nice party”

“I’m sooo glad you’re here” Farrah slurred “How did you know I needed you? Are you psychic? Does weed give you powers?”

“Sure. Let’s go with that.” Ophelia wanted to get this over with. She had more important things to think about. Like finding a sorority ninja that’s down one necklace. How is this my life? Damn my insatiable curiosity. I shouldn’t have watched so much Veronica Mars. She glanced at Frankie, confirming the girl was wearing her necklace. Yeah, that’s not a shocker. “How much do you need?”

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