or the second most attractive for that matter

  • attractive person: looks don't matter!
  • me, an ugly: *can't make friends*, *can't get into relationships*, *is second choice for everything*, *can't get away with most outfits*, *can't take pictures featuring myself*, *has severe trust issues over anyone seemingly liking me* ok
between the devil & the deep blue sea (m)


Words: 28,455. (rip)

Genre: Pirate Jimin au + smut, fluff, angst.

Paring: Jimin x Reader.

Summary: “No matter the endeavour you were on, no matter the storms you encountered on rocky seas, or the possible threat of encountering blood-thirsty pirates, no one intrigued you or intimidated you more than the thought of him, of Park Jimin, the most notorious of pirates, the most brutal of men, the devil incarnate.”

Fantasy Collab

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My dear lgbt+ kids, 

It’s important to remember that two people can feel the same way and still use different labels - without one of them being wrong or bad! 

I’ll illustrate this with an example: Let’s say we have Peter and Henry. Both feel sexually attracted to only men. Both feel romantically attracted to all genders. 

Peter might identify as panromantic homosexual because both parts of his identity are equally important and it’s important to him to have labels that show how his romantic orientation differs from his sexual orientation. Henry identifies as pan. To him, that’s what matters, that’s the only label he needs. Who he feels attracted to in which way is his own personal definition of pansexuality, no second label necessary. 

Who of them uses the right label(s)? Both do. 

They both use the label(s) they feel describe them best, the one(s) they feel most comfortable and happy with. And that’s all that matters! 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Mom  

Unexpected (Ethan x Reader)

Requested : Yes, by the wonderful @kissdolan, thank you so much for requesting this

Summary : Ethan is chasing after a beautiful model until he notices her average, photographer friend. 

Word Count : 2665

Warnings : Fluff, very cute Ethan

Keep reading


(part 2) | (part 3) | (part 4) | (part 5) | (part 6) | (part 7)


soulmate au where the first words you’ll hear your soulmate say are inscribed on your wrist. 

warnings: a little self-worth questioning
word count: 1134

“I love you.”

It’s three words, along the inside of your left wrist in plain, black ink that never fades, and it’s been there for the past ten years. You remember when it first showed up: the searing pain that you’d felt and the way you’d clutched your wrist as the words had appeared, but more than anything, the excitement and joy and relief you had felt, because you had a soulmate, and not everyone is as fortunate. And for ten years you laughed and smiled and searched for someone who’d say those words– for those to be the first words you would hear them say.

Except– you never found anyone. And now the words on your wrist are a painful reminder.

Everywhere you go you see people walking hand in hand with others and talking about their soulmate, asking you about yours and telling you not to worry and it never ends. You don’t know who your soulmate is. You don’t know when you’re going to meet them. You don’t know what they look like or where they are or what their wrist says. You don’t fucking know and you’re wondering if you ever will, because who in their right mind tells someone they’ve just met that they love them?

And maybe– maybe you’ve walked past them on the streets. Maybe you’ve sat beside them in a bar or bumped into them somewhere or maybe they’re living with you, in this tower, and the thought makes it so much worse because you’re not even worth their attention. It makes sense, you suppose, because you’re nothing special. There’s Steve, honest and loyal and so caring that it makes your heart hurt, or Tony, who can figure out the most complex problems within seconds, or Sam who makes you laugh so hard you’re clutching your sides in pain, or Wanda or Nat or Rhodey or Clint. They all have something that they’re good at, some quality that makes them attractive, more so than simply the way they look. And you? You’re painfully average. It doesn’t even matter if you have a soulmate because when it comes down to it – if it comes down to it – would they even want you?

It’s near midnight and you’re a mess. Your hair is akin to a bird’s nest and your chest feels incredibly heavy as you stare at the eight letters. Your eyes burn, tears threatening to spill out like the night before and the night before that and the night before that because that’s become your life. And you know just how weak you’re being, but god, it just really fucking hurts. You hate it. You hate the words on your wrist, despise the way the simple black font taunts you, because it’s probably a mistake– some glitch in the universe that left you with this– this– thing. This thing that everybody that you know has, and everybody’s found the person it’s linked to, and some of these people have even lost them and now they have a solid black line in place of words like Steve and Nat but– at least they found them.

It’s just you left, between everyone that you work with. You and Bucky. But Nat’s told you that Bucky doesn’t remember what was on his arm before he fell, and that he doesn’t care much for it because he ‘doesn’t believe in the soulmate bullshit anyway.’ So really, you’re just crying for yourself.

There’s a knock on your door, then Steve’s walking in. “Hey Y/N, Natasha’s looking fo–“

He sees you, crouched on the floor with your back against the wall, and his expression changes instantly. There he is, compassionate, caring, loving Steve, fussing over you and making sure you’re doing okay and what happened and is everything alright? And then you’re laughing, the hollow sound escaping your lips before you can stop it, because fuck, look at how stupid you’re being, crying over something that you can’t even control, making yourself look like an idiot in front of Steve. So you push him away and wipe your eyes and stand up.

“It’s fine– I’m fine.”

Then you’re leaving the room, faster than you’ve ever walked before. You don’t want to talk to Steve and it’s best if he forgets what’s just happened and the first step to that is pretending like nothing went down in the first place. And didn’t Nat want to see you, anyway?

You head towards her room, stumbling over your feet because you’re walking so fast and you reach her room, turning her doorknob while taking deep, calming breaths, and then you open the door just a crack and–

You freeze with your hand on the doorframe.

Bucky’s there, sitting behind Nat, mouth beside her neck as she leans back on him, eyes closed, chest rising and falling slowly. His mouth is tracing a path down to her shoulder and he takes his time, relishing in the taste of her skin.  

“Barnes,” she gasps when he hits the curve where her neck meets her chest, and he lifts his head to look at her. His fingers tangle themselves into her red locks, and her green eyes meet his blue ones. She opens her mouth to say something but one of his fingers comes up to rest on her swollen lips, cutting her off. Bucky shakes his head, and you turn to leave because you should really leave the two of them alone and plus, whatever Natasha has to talk about probably isn’t even that important and you really don’t want to see Bucky whisper things into your best friend’s ear and–

“I love you.”

Your heart stops.

There’s a burning sensation on your wrist, and it wraps itself around your left arm and spreads upwards, until it’s encompassing your entire body and you’re ready to scream in pain, except– no sound comes out of your mouth, because your throat has closed and it’s becoming hard to swallow. You stare down at the black letters, but they’re not black anymore; They’ve faded to faint white lines, barely noticeable, like the ones that lie on the wrists of your parents and your siblings and all your other friends.

You’ve waited for this moment for ten years. You’ve cried night after night and felt hopeless and told yourself that the universe made a mistake and that the words on your wrist were put there by accident. You’ve imagined every possible way this moment could have gone: a grand wedding, an intimate night, maybe meeting at a bookstore or a coffeeshop or over the phone or on a vacation. You’d travel together and live together and maybe have children together. You’d imagined you’d be happy. Together.

You had never imagined you’d find him with his lips on someone else’s.

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anonymous asked:

turn-ons for levi, eren, and jean?~

Jesus Take the Wheel can be heard playing faintly in the background. Forgive, lord, for I have sinned. 


  • Not to sound like a broken record, but Levi is going to need someone who can keep up with him both physically and mentally. He’s not the type to take much BS from anyone, so maturity is an absolute must with him.
  • Looks really don’t matter to him. I feel like he can appreciate an attractive person, but one of his biggest turn-ons would be self-confidence and skill to back it up. That is really attractive to him.
  • In terms of general appearance, Levi is more of an ass man. His actions are super subtle but, if his s/o catches him staring, he’ll smirk a little just to confirm their suspicions. 
  • In the bedroom, I see Levi being a dominant person, but someone who can keep up with his pace and challenge him for control is really sexy. Although he might not verbalize it, someone who pins him down for a little bit is 👌.
  • While he isn’t one to make tons of noise, hearing his partner and knowing that he’s having a serious affect on them excites him a lot. 

Note: Mod Spookzz actually did NSFW headcanons for Levi, so it’s here if you want to read those as well!


  • To be completely frank, this boy would think someone with a mean right hook is more attractive and appealing than any pretty person he could ever stumble across. 
  • More than anything, I think Eren would be attracted to a really compassionate and idealistic person quite like himself. Looks are pretty irrelevant to him; it’s all about the personality. 
  • I really think Eren would find his partner’s neck to be the most attractive feature, in terms of body. Pressing them up against a wall and having them shiver beneath him while peppering kisses to the side of their neck? All good things.
  • In order to date Eren, you really have to get along with Armin and Mikasa/his family in an AU. Having someone who is on good terms with them is SUPER important to Eren, since he’s definitely a family-type of person.


  • Out of the three, he is definitely the most likely to be attracted to someone’s looks. Not to say that is all that matters, but he’s definitely the type to be attracted to features first, personality second. 
  • That being said, Jean’s type might surprise you. Although he claims to like pretty and popular-type girls, someone who doesn’t put up with his BS and calls him out whenever he’s being an asshole; someone who can challenge his realistic way of thinking and encourage optimism inside of him.
  • I think Jean might actually like someone who can take charge in the bedroom. He’ll definitely try to be dominant and might put up a fuss, but he’ll be putty in his s/o’s hands. 
  • Jean wouldn’t be opposed to PDA, either. He’s definitely the type to brag about how wonderful and beautiful his s/o is, so having someone who goes along with his shenanigans would be helpful in his relationship. 
  • Aside from facial features, I can see Jean really liking legs. Considering that they are in uniforms a lot, seeing his s/o’s legs exposed would really make him flustered in his own way.

turnipwizard  asked:

victuuri but they're in outer space

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Victor asked. His hair shone like starlight under the LED overheads, designed for conserving power for the duration of the USS Agape’s eighteen-month mission. The gold of his command shirt was the brightest color by far, drawing Yuuri’s eyes away from even the magnificent sight in the bay window behind him.

The Earth, all round and green and white and blue, so very blue. As blue as Captain Nikiforov’s eyes as he turned them back on Yuuri, his fresh-faced and distracted First Officer.

There should be nothing else on Yuuri’s mind but the sight of wide-open space, in this moment. He’d trained his whole life for this. He’d waited twenty five years for this sight. But he could look at nothing but his commanding officer and feel joy, feel fear, and feel the strange and mortifying attraction he’d acknowledged when he first chosen Victor as his idol long ago.

He was the most distinguished alumnus of Starfleet Academy; a true genius, a prodigy in all things navigation, language, and discovery. And he had chosen Yuuri for his second in command, despite the fact that dozens of graduates (some even twice Yuuri’s age) had been desperate for this chance.

Why me? Why now?

But does it matter?

“Yes, Captain,” Yuuri answered, and swallowed back the fear. Everything, everyone he knew was on that planet, now microscopic—entire lives, entire cities, so small they were invisible to the naked eye.

It certainly put things into perspective, Yuuri’s anxiety notwithstanding.

Victor laughed; the sound echoed off the thermoglass, off the bulkheads, and echoed down the spacious halls. Yuuri drew in on himself; Victor, oblivious, reached out to pat him on the back. “Yuuri, please, you can call me Victor when we’re not on the bridge. We’re going to be living and working together for the next year and a half. It’s the least you can do, please, for me.”

How could Yuuri deny him? He lowered his eyes and nodded, still starstruck (not by the galaxies they would be facing, exploring—but by the man himself before him). 

“Come on. I’d like to hear you say my name at least once,” Victor said with a bright smile.

“I just don’t want to disappoint you!” Yuuri felt the words tumble from him unexpectedly, the hot, embarrassed blush following closely behind. He clapped his hands over his mouth and mumbled, “…Victor.”

Victor’s cheerful expression softened into something gentle, private. His hand, where he had patted Yuuri’s back, drifted up to rest on his shoulder, heavy and comforting. “You won’t disappoint me. You’re capable of amazing things, Yuuri. You’re full of surprises, I know it. You may even surprise yourself.” 

Victor winked; Yuuri hoped Victor couldn’t feel the heart palpitations that had to be shaking his whole body.

And then Victor stepped closer and slid his arm around Yuuri’s shoulder. “Come on, Commander Katsuki. Let’s go greet our crew.”

As Victor led him away, Yuuri had only a moment to take in the view of the Earth; it would be more than a year before he would see it again. But the last thing he saw was their reflection—tall and broad, short and slender, silver hair and black, command gold and science blue.

They looked good together.

(Yuuri hoped they would work together just as well.)

“Yes, Victor,” Yuuri answered.

Being near Victor’s warmth was worth the cold of space.

I keep thinking about the implication that bisexual women calling themselves lesbians meaningfully expresses their desire for other women and being blown away at how obviously biphobic it is to imply that bisexual women, by default, don’t see their attraction to women as important. First of all, if it wasn’t important to them they’d probably call themselves straight, and second of all bi women don’t share the same relationship to men among them and “I’m bisexual no matter my partner’s gender” is such a bedrock of most bi people’s self conceptualization.

Exes and “Oh Did I Mention I’m Bi?”

Pairing: Rob Benedict x bi!Reader

Request: “I was thinking: Rob doesn’t know that Reader is bi, because she forgot to tell him and never really had the occasion, and one night they are out having drinks (with the gang or not, do what you feel like), and she freaks out because her ex is here. He’s trying to see which guy it is, but she points her ex out and it turns out to be a woman? And the whole “whoops I didn’t tell you… are you mad?” conversation with maybe a tiny hint of possessive Robbie on the side if you feel like it.” Thank you, @rewritetheendingoftheplay for this! I’m sorry for the long wait but I hope it’s worth it! Also, check out her Rob-fics, they are the BEST.

Warnings: asshole ‘exes’, swearing…

Originally posted by madame-marilyn

(completely unrelated but he cute)

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Why the UK should be more like Australia

Many people back home in the UK are saying they just can’t bring themselves to vote for Jeremy Corbyn. And look, I get it. He’s definitely not perfect, and he has the dress sense of a maths teacher. Could he be any beiger?

But the good news is, you don’t have to vote for Jeremy Corbyn! Under a Westminster System of government, you vote for the party, not the man! So you can vote for the Labour party safe in the knowledge that it represents a far better deal for the NHS, for education, for the environment, for the economy (as an actual economy, rather than just profits for the biggest billionaires), for people with disabilities not being left destitute because someone over the phone decides they’re not disabled enough and for everyone who’d like to have their pension fund still extant when they retire.

Still not convinced? Fair enough. However, there are two things you shouldn’t do. The first of these is that you shouldn’t say your vote doesn’t matter. If 2016 taught us anything it’s that EVERY vote matters.

The second is that you shouldn’t vote for this woman or her party.

I mean, again, I understand why you might find her attractive. She looks great and has a wonderfully reassuring voice. Questionable taste in trousers, but I own a pair of oilskin leggings, so who am I to judge?

But she will run a government that will pursue an austerity agenda to the detriment of most Britons for the benefit of the few. She will push blindly ahead with a rudderless Brexit despite its financial cost to the UK. She will insist that it is economically and morally necessary to strip benefits from terminal cancer patients while refusing to make multinationals and billionaires pay their taxes (even as she declares she is coming after them for their shortfall. But rest assured, if you’re poor, old, jobless or sick, she will genuinely come after you.) She will gut the NHS, declaring that she is saving it, while selling it out to the benefit of this guy and his mates:

Who include this guy:

And especially this guy:

But, I hear you say, I just can’t make myself vote for Jeremy Corbyn! The waffling! The windbreakers! The party disunity!

And I say to you: this is EXACTLY WHY you should be voting for Labour. Because, let’s be honest, how long do you think Corbyn has? I give it a year at best before he’s rolled, and that’s if he manages a surprise victory. Pundits have been pitching this as a key problem, but I am here to tell you they have no idea what they are talking about.

One of the great joys of travelling around the world is that you see how much it invigorates a democracy to have a leadership that can be toppled at any moment.  Gone is your moribund majority, they can’t rest on their laurels for a moment if they want to keep far enough ahead in the polls to effect any kind of job security within the party. And with five-year-long election cycles, fear of your colleagues is pretty much the only thing that can keep some of this lot engaged. Enough of this sleeping through bills and rousing yourself only long enough to sneak through a cheeky expenses rort! Bring in a party where if you’re not keeping up with the needs of the country and the people, you’re waking up to find a complex machine of grassroots campaigning and a charismatic contender. Who? Could be anyone! That’s part of the fun.

This is why I say to you in all seriousness, vote Labour, even if you personally loathe Corbyn. It’s the only chance for an economic recovery that stretches into and beyond the middle class, and playing Leader Roulette is exactly like having a holiday in Australia, without having to deal with 26 hours of Qantas ‘customer service’.

Sirius Black Imagine: “The muggle and the dog”

Can you do an imagine with Sirius Black where he is hiding from the ministry of magic after they think he killed Jily and the reader (a mogul) takes him in as Padfoot (when he’s a dog) and has no idea then comes home one day and dings Sirius shirtless and cooking or whatever? Then she’d be really scared but comforts her and maybe kisses her?

Requested by anon

Warnings: bad language

[y/f/m]= your favorite meal

Today you were having a shitty day. You know it may sound offensive to other ears, but damn, there wasn’t a better adjective to describe the experience. First, you found out your boyfriend had been cheating on you. Then, you confronted him and broke up with him, obviously. You didn’t need assholes in your life, thank you very much. After the break-up, someone stole your wallet while you were in the underground. And on the top of that, it hadn’t stopped raining all day long. Typically British, mind you? But still, what had you done to deserve this? Why did all of this bullshit have to happen in the same day? Couldn’t life give you a break? Apparently not, as next thing you knew, you stumbled upon something and fell into a puddle, splashing water everywhere.

“Fucking rain! I wasn’t looking. I’m sor-“

You trailed off when you realized that you hadn’t run into a person. Instead, a black dog was eyeing you in wonder. Well, at least the situation wasn’t as humiliating as if you had bumped into a handsome bloke. You made sure the mutt wasn’t injured and stood up, straightening your wet clothes to the best of your abilities. Your legs marched as you prayed that nothing else happened to you before getting home. Then, a powerful emotion invaded your senses: fear. Why did you suddenly feel like somebody was following you? You weren’t going paranoid, were you? Nevertheless, you had to make sure. Every single time you turned around, your eyes caught nobody. The only sound was the endless raindrops falling over the ground. Yes, you were going paranoid. It was either that, or your exhausted brain telling you to get to your flat. 

A few more steps and, finally, you were inside your home, sweet home. You closed the door and sighed, resting your forehead against the door and wondering how the hell you had managed to survive today. It took you a few minutes to compose yourself and turn the lights on. You certainly weren’t prepared for what your [y/e/c] eyes saw: the black dog, the same black dog that had made you fall with a thud into a fucking puddle. Your first reaction was to squeal and put your hand over your heart, afraid that it would stop beating at the start. There, it looked like that crucial organ of your body was still functioning.

“You! You have been the one who’s been chasing me! What do you think I am, mmm? A cat?”

You didn’t even know why you were speaking out loud. It was an animal, for God’s sake! The dog seemed to look at you diverted though, as if it actually understood English and was able to read your thoughts. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion and held your gaze. Why did the animal look human? You shook your head, as if trying to forget about it and opened the door. The black dog didn’t move.

“Get out, now!”

The mutt poked its tongue out, yet its composure didn’t change.

“Ugh! For fuck’s sake!” you grunted, throwing your arms up in exasperation. You approached the black creature cautiously and tried to push it outdoors, to the bloody rain, but the dog was too heavy for you. Groaning, you made your way to the kitchen and took a sausage. This will do, you thought.

“Hey, mutt! Over there!” you screamed, flinging the food outside.

Nothing. The dog didn’t even blink. This couldn’t be happening to you.

“I swear, I had a terrible day, I don’t need a big black dog that seems to be keen on my humble flat! Just leave me the hell alone!”

The dog seemed to look at you pityingly now, but made no move. You took the time to inspect it thoroughly. Its pose was pleading. It didn’t wear a leash, so it was either lost or abandoned. Its dark hair was soaking wet, and it was dampening your carpet. You didn’t want to waste the little energy you still had in worrying about it though. Rather, you locked eyes with the creature. You could almost read emotions in there. Was that even normal? The possibility that you were indeed going paranoid was as alive as ever. In spite of it, you felt a pang in your chest when you realized that you were alone now, as alone as this mutt. Maybe fate had played its cards. Maybe whoever is up there had wanted you to meet the lost animal.

“You may stay,” you finally whispered.

The dog suddenly jumped to you and licked your face, its tail moving vividly. Concerned that you were turning into a softy, you added, “But only for tonight! I’ll find you a place tomorrow!”

As you put on your pajama and let yourself fall into your bed, you couldn’t help but think that perhaps the day hadn’t ended as bad as you had predicted.

A week passed, and you hadn’t had it in your heart to dump the dog. How could you? It was the only one that seemed to understand you and even care for you, as crazy as it sounded. You had poured out your heart to the poor animal. You told him about your job, about your ex-boyfriend, about the silly weather… Whatever, the dog didn’t judge you and you needed disclosure.

“Well, you know what? I think I am definitely going to keep you. You need a name though… What about Black? Yes, I know, I know. I am pants at giving names. I am not an original and creative person, so bear with me. I cannot come up with anything better, this will have to do.”

Why was the dog looking amused again?

“Behave, Black. I don’t want to tidy another mess of yours or throw away another pillow that you found entertaining to destroy, mind you? I’m going to work now. Not that I really want to… You know, Mr. Wilson, my boss, is a right arse. Anyway, duty calls. I’ll be back before you know it, and then I’ll walk you out… Does that sound good to you?”

Your new pet simply wagged his tail in contentment before you left.

“I’m home!” you screamed, expecting the dog to come to you and lick your face, filling it with kisses. That didn’t happen. How very odd, you thought. “Black? Where are you? Come on, it’s time to take a walk!”


It was then that you noticed the smell of your [y/f/m] coming from the kitchen. Fuck! Someone had broken in, a burglar, most likely. You panicked and took a baseball bat to protect yourself from the intruder. Holding your breath and walking on eggshells, your feet got you to the kitchen. A man who was giving your back and cooking was there. Since when did thieves cook something for the owner? Since when were they half-naked and only covered in a towel? Since when was a stranger’s back so attractive?

“What the hell? Who are you?” you screamed, your [y/e/c] eyes wide and your hands still holding the bat.

The housebreaker turned around. In a matter of a second, his mouth twitched into a cocky grin and his eyebrow arched. Your eyes fixed on his chest longer than necessary, you admitted that. Then, they fell to his abs. Sweet Jesus! Your mouth went dry before you forced your eyes to actually look him in the eye, his amused grey eyes. Wait, where had you seen them before? They looked creepily familiar…

“Hello to you too, babe. Tell me, how has your working day been? Mr. Wilson has been an arse again, I bet.”

The bloke knew about her boss. Someone come and help you. Where the hell was Black when you needed him? You would have given anything for him to attack the intruder.

“Who the fuck are you? How do you know my boss? What have you done to my dog?”

“Oh! I am yours now? That’s an honor, really.”

“Just get out of my house, you freak! I will call the police otherwise!”

“Now, now, darling, there’s no need to act so drastically… I am cooking your favorite dinner, not trying to kill you.”

You tried to hit him with the baseball bat then, but the guy took a stick out of nowhere and your weapon flew away inexplicably. The man looked more amused as the time went by, just as your fear increased quickly. You did the only thing that came to your mind: call for that stupid dog.

“Black! Come on! I need you! Where are you? I gave you a home, you mutt! There is someone harassing me and you aren’t anywhere to be found?! Traitor!”

“I’m here, and I am no traitor. Don’t be scared, precious.”

Then, the most bizarre thing happened, even more than your bat flying away: the man turned into Black for a few seconds, before reversing to his human form. You were speechless. Your brain was finally verifying that your suspicions had always been correct: you were paranoid. Your expression must have been comical, for the bastard was even crying from the laughter.

“Y-you… You are Black?”

“The one and only, dear.”

“B-but, h-how? I mean, you can’t be my dog!”

“Do you want me to do the trick again?” he wondered diverted.

“Fuck no!”

He chuckled. The nerve!

“I need to go to the mental hospital,” you muttered under your breath. “I am entirely mad.”

Black simply grinned ruefully and mumbled, “You are a little insane, but aren’t we all? This is real, [y/n]. I am real. I am Black.”

Something about the tone of his voice appeased you.

“What’s your real name?” you wondered, finally believing that your eyes hadn’t deceived you.

The question, for some unknown reason, made him smirk.

“Black,” was all he said.

You rolled your eyes.

“Very funny. Now, tell me your REAL name, please.”


“Yes, I am serious. Tell me your fucking name or else-“

“I am Sirius Black.”

“Ugh! Come on! You were right about my boss, okay? He’s been an arse, as usual. I don’t need another jerk in my life.”

“My name is Sirius Black, no kidding. Black isn’t that uncommon for a surname, you know?”

Why was his smile so captivating? Why was he the most handsome fella you had ever laid eyes on? Why did he have to be a dog as well? Was life mocking you?

You sighed, defeated. Your fingers were rubbing your temples and your eyes were shut, trying to sink everything in.

“Thank the stars you have been cooking [y/f/m], Black. I woudln’t be able to cope with this otherwise.”

“Of course, love, anything for you.”

“Do you usually call every woman love, babe and darling?”

“Only the ones I fancy.”

He was a flirt, that much was evident, but you quite liked him.

“Promise you’ll explain the dog and bat thing later?”

“I promise, but on one condition.”


“Let me kiss you?”

“In your dreams, Black.”

“Oh, come on! I have kissed you many times, even if I was in my animag- er dog form. Besides, I am sure you find me attractive, love.”

“You are so full of yourself, you know that?”

“Yep, but I would never treat you like that dork you had for a boyfriend.”

You smiled. You really smiled after this infernal week. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to give him a chance, right? You’d just play a little hard to get at first.

Originally posted by mairelon

Mercy of The Court

My character (Detective Alice Murdock) has been dating Rafael Barba for a couple of months now and she is on the stand during the ‘Legitimate Rape’ case with Richard Purcell cross-examining her. But then when Purcell goes too far, how would Barba react? Enjoy!

Alice placed her hands in her lap and straightened her shoulders, preparing for the attack that was yet to come. Purcell advanced to her and she fought to recoil. This man made her skin crawl and that horribly cheap cologne reeked from his suit, making the creeper vibe even stronger.

“Miss Murdock, or should I call you Detective Murdock?”

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anonymous asked:

hi!!! do u have any harry potter au's u know and could recommend please? thank you so much!! (:

OMG YES now hp!aus are definitely up my alley (I might have written a few myself lol) I’ll hook you up dw 

the world is in your palm now so take a breath and calm down by fifty-one sunsets (idyleski) | junghope 
I can’t do this,“ Jungkook hisses to Jimin, eyes following Hoseok who makes his way to the table.

Chapter 20: The Dank Dungeon Detention Disaster by Merixcil | zico/suga
After one of Kyung’s schemes gets found out, Jiho and Yoongi wind up taking the fall (Hogwarts AU)

it’s a flashlight, not a wand by hakho | yoonseok
Hoseok stumbles into what is most definitely not his home in the middle of the night. or AO3

It’s a Flashlight, Not a Wand Pt. 2 by hakho | yoonseok

95z and the Horrifically Attractive Hufflepuff Head Boy by sheepishfiction
Taehyung is an unregistered Animagus and Jimin is not that bad at Charms. Jungkook spends an excessive amount of time in the first stall of the second floor boy’s toilet. But none of these things matter, because holy shit, Kim Seokjin.

i’m sorry for my silence, my love by hakho | namjin
Seokjin doesn’t want to talk about what happened last Christmas. Harry Potter!AU 

I Need U - Chapter 6: Harry Potter Au by ifyou | yoonseok
we stumble into the mirror of erised together. we look into it. neither of us know it’s anything special. we just see our reflections 

I Need U - Chapter 14: Harry Potter Au - Potions by ifyou | yoonseok
“you are already dating someone else, and during our love potion unit, you get asked to explain what you smell, and of course you’re gonna be smelling things that describe your partner right? uhm, but then why are you explicitly describing me…?" 

always tickle a sleeping dragon by paradoxicy 
a series of bts one-shots in which jungkook is a brooding, emotionally constipated slytherin and hoseok can’t shut his big mouth up (and yoongi is secretly shagging hufflepuff’s prefect, kim seokjin). 

are you a dementor (because you take my breath away) by pearhunt | vkook
It’s not like Taehyung chose to help rising star Quidditch player Jeon Jeongguk. Even if he’s a Hufflepuff, he’s still allowed to hate Jeongguk’s guts. 

Amorbrall by basilpyrrhic | vkook
V is literally a world class idiot and Jung Kook is all talk. 

pathetic fallacy by shikae (39smooth) | (fuckign amazingsdjhbfdbespiu) 
HP Wizarding War!AU. Don’t let the light go out. Remember. Never let the light go out. 

The Second Circle by Merixcil | Jin/Hyosang 
How to grow up together (told backwards) - Hogwarts AU 

Wicked Witchcraft: You Arouse the Need in Me by hunchul | namseok (absolutely bae) 
also known as 5 times namseok got caught and one time they didn’t. inspired by/based on kore-chan’s numerous hp au fanarts

Amortentia by Tosun | yoonmin
Jimin didn’t think his love potion would actually work.

Happy reading, my young padawan!
-admin sarah

motherfudginghufflepuff  asked:

Do you have a HP AU rec list?

Feb ‘16. Sure do! This is a long one. And thanks for the ask! 

★= fics that could use more love and appreciation i.e KUDOS & COMMENTS :D


Untamed by rosepetal42 (1/1 | 28,282 | Teen)

Of course, the transfer kid gets mentioned because transfers are rare, but the news isn’t that exciting. In fact, according to Laura, no one even seems to know his first name. The only thing anyone has really figured out about him is that he’s American. And that’s not exactly hard because he obviously has an accent.

The only thing Derek really knows is that, despite other reports, he seems quiet enough, prefers to work alone, and has the most amazing shade of amber eyes that Derek has ever seen.

Not that he’s looking. Obviously.

OR: A Harry Potter AU where Stiles is a Slytherin transfer student and Derek is the grumpy Gryffindor who falls in love with him.

There are also potions, elves, and falcons involved. Oh, and illegal use of magic. Obviously.

Adorable people doing adorable stuff: 

Mother of Dragons by Lissadiane (1/1 | 11,985 | Gen.)

Since Hogwarts had opened its doors to werewolves, many Hale children had apparently come through, wary and angry, refusing to socialize with the other students. And one by one, they’d been sorted into Slytherin, obviously, with the odd Ravenclaw to mix things up.

And then along came little Derek Hale, who’d barely gotten his ass on the stool before the hat was calling out Gryffindor.

Everyone thought it was funny, even now, when Derek was in his seventh year. Stiles, though, found it fascinating.

It helped, of course, that Derek was two years older and hotter than the sun.


I Can’t Get Enough (Of You) by elspethelf (1/1 | 10,480 | Teen) 

Fact: Derek Hale hates Potions.

There are a number of reasons why this is so. For one thing, Potions is reallynot Derek’s strong point. (There’s a reason he’s banned from using the kitchen at home.) For another, the Potions classroom is dank and dim and spending more than an hour down there at a time makes Derek’s skin crawl.

And then there’s Stiles Stilinski.

He doesn’t need an explanation.

This is simply the greatest!: 

★climbing up the walls with you by trilliastra (1/1 | 1,605 | Mature) 

It’s pretty much a friends with benefits thing, except Stiles is not sure they are friends. Sure, Derek stopped being a jerk to Scott, he even lets Stiles copy his Potions homework sometimes, but aside from some chit-chat while getting dressed, they don’t really talk much.

Still, sex with Derek?


Unbelievably adorable idiots! Such failures at life!: 

An Intermediate Guide for the Lycanthropic Lovelorn by ladyblahblah (1/1 | 3,165 | Gen.) 

Stiles doesn’t know why Derek Hale has asked him to go to Hogsmeade with him, but he’s preparing for the worst just in case.

The fluff!!: 

★The Boy Who Pined by lupus (1/1 | 3,676 | Teen) 

“That will be your legacy, ‘Derek Hale: The Boy Who Pined’, I like it, it suits you.”
“Laura I don’t care if we’re related if you say that out loud ever again, I will shank you.”

Hogwarts AU in which Derek likes Stiles but is too emotionally constipated to actually do anything about it.

I just love misunderstandings: 

★Teach me something, please by Nival_Vixen (1/1 | 4,825 | NR)

After an attempt on their family’s lives, Derek and Cora are transferred from Beauxbatons to Hogwarts. Derek needs help with Transfiguration, and Stiles is volunteered to tutor him.


★C’etait Salement Romantique by Swing Set In December (1/1 | 2,277 | Gen.) 

The Triwizard tournament is really about fostering wizarding relations. Ask anyone. Just not Stiles, he’s busy French kissing Derek.

Hogwarts really should teach some linguistic classes.


Get Me In Trouble by scottmcniceass (1/1 | 8,045 | Mature) 

Stiles is in his seventh and finale year at Hogwarts. Things were supposed to go smoothly– he’d work hard, hang out with his friends, the usual. Unfortunately for him, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has it out for him. To make matters worse, he happens to be the most attractive person Stiles had ever laid eyes on.

HOT!! with a touch of feels: 

got something to put in you by verity (1/1 | 2,236 | Explicit) 

The second time Derek and Stiles meet is in a gay bar.

A wizarding gay bar.

It’s very sparkly.

HOT!! with a touch of magical creatures:

it does not do to dwell on dreams (and forget to live) by HaleyElizabeth (1/1 | 23,429 | Mature)

After years spent abroad, Derek Hale is called back to the United Kingdom, and offered a job at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as the new Care of Magical Creatures professor. After begrudgingly accepting, Derek quickly realizes that his students are a lot more than he signed up for- one of them in particular.

Keep reading



One of the most important things an equestrian needs is to be brave. Most of us think we are. We know with a single bad distance, with a single fall, a single crash, in one second … everything we’ve worked for, from riding to living could be taken away from us. We’ve all experienced shit go down. This sport attracts many but only few were born to ride. With every bad distance, every fall, every crash, this sport tests us. Tests our bravery. Trying to find the real equestrians. The ones who get up, learn from our mistakes, and keep trying no matter how terrifying it seems. The ones who were born to ride.

-Hannah Bruni


The Dragons of the World

| Swedish Short-Snout |

The Swedish Short-Snout is an attractive silvery-blue dragon whose skin is sought after for the manufacture of protective gloves and shields. The flame that issues from its nostrils is a brilliant blue and can reduce timber and bone to ash in a matter of seconds. The Short-Snout has fewer human killings to its name than most dragons, though as it prefers to live in wild and uninhabited mountainous areas, this is not much to its credit.

Not Everyone Can Be a Sugar Baby

So I saw this post earlier to brownstatuesquesugarbaby and it really stuck with me enough that it’s still bothering me now. Without roasting the anonymous asker over the coals which is never my intention, the anon did say something that really bothered me which is that she or he is afraid of becoming addicted to sugaring because you receive the money for “little to no work”…

Now that strikes me as being a little shady, but I digress. I wanted to first address that point by saying sugaring is hard work. It’s exhausting emotionally, physically, spiritually and mentally. There is a massive amount of time you spend prepping and bettering yourself that you don’t get paid for, you have to deduct it out of whatever allowance your SD deems you worthy enough. The job doesn’t come with benefits. There is zero job security. You get jerked around a lot. You have to constantly worry that if anyone discovers what you do that it will literally ruin your life. You have to basically be an actress most of the time. Like any other person who works in a sales industry (because this is a sales industry, you are the product, the salesperson etc.) you have to develop a thick skin and be creative in your sales pitches. I could really go on and on and on.

Which brings me to this point: not everyone can be a sugar baby. I’m not even talking about, “oh you aren’t pretty enough” or whatever non SBs think I’m talking about. First, no matter what you look like, somebody finds you attractive. Second, whatever stereotype you have of a Sugar Baby, throw it out of your head. I’ve been in this long enough to know that SBs come from all nationalities, all walks of life, all shapes and sizes, all educational backgrounds, etc. There is no stereotypical SB so throw that out of your pretty little head right now.

People don’t talk about this enough, but most girls aren’t successful. In my experience, and this is all I have to go on because there’s no numerical data out there on this, but in my experience most girls are not successful at being SBs. And we, the girls on the internet who glamorize this lifestyle, need to be more honest and say that for every one of us, there’s another girl who failed.

Not everyone can be a successful SB because it’s hard. It takes an emotional toll so hard that it takes someone with a lot of steel in them to stand up to it. You’re going to be rejected. You’re going to be hurt and taken advantage of. You’re going to eventually develop feelings and have to realize that what you have with that person isn’t real. It’s difficult to lie to your friends and family. It’s difficult feeling isolated and alone. It’s difficult feeling the judgment of the general public. It’s difficult to keep trying and keep looking and keep putting yourself out there when things fall apart.

To be a SB, you have to be able to bury your emotions. You have to be able to put aside your real feelings, slap on a fake smile and play the part of the fantasy. You have to be able to manipulate without feeling guilty. You have to be intuitive enough and intelligent enough to know what your SD or POT’s next move is so you can stay ahead of him. To be a really successful SB, I think you have to be a little bit cold-hearted, you have to have some steel in you, you have to be charismatic, you have to be manipulative, and you have to be a good actress. 

This isn’t romance, this is a job. It’s a job with its own challenges, and it’s a job that not everyone can do. 

So when you say something like, “I want to get into sugaring because it looks so easy and fun!” you’re being insulting and also, you’re in for a rude awakening.

I just saw gifs of the scene where Ragnar and Ecbert argue over where Athelstan would have been most safe, and you literally cannot tell me that Ragnar was arguing in defense of just his platonic bestie. Neither was Ecbert for that matter, but I haven’t seen anyone try to claim Ecbert wasn’t in love.

So yeah, as far as Ragnar Lothbrok goes in the series canon, I refuse to think he was anything other than bi/pansexual. He was intrigued by Athelstan from the second they met, attracted to him soon after, and then they proceeded to build a lasting friendship. Following his death, Ragnar felt lost, abandoned, guilty, and above all, heartbroken. He even converted his religion for Athelstan, which is seen as being a huge deal. So while platonic may describe the literal aspect of their relationship, it doesn’t describe how Ragnar felt. 

the most fucked up thing is that

emma watson


one of the most

men inclusive 

feminist speeches 

i’ve heard in the longest time, and the result? the result from these men who claim that they would be all for feminism if it weren’t for all “the man hating”? 

do not be fooled for one fucking second

you can be as kind, calm, attractive and male inclusive as they demand for our voices to matter and the result is the same.

these people do not hate feminism because it “hates men”, these people have historically and to this day hated feminism because it’s purpose will result in the taking away of their power.