pepper has a face

Praise Kink

In which Harry is incredibly nervous and y/n knows just how to calm him down.

A/N: WELL I did it. Barely.  I managed to get this finished before Harry’s single dropped so that I’ll be able to freak out in peace tonight.  I hope you enjoy because this is… kinda filthy.  LOVE YA BUY SIGN OF THE TIMES ON ITUNES!

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It Started With A Kiss

Summary: All the ways Dean loves to kiss you

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1018

Warnings: All the fluff

A/N: I’m actually super proud of this! Thanks to my grammar nazi and my poetic friend @idreamofhazel

A kiss is the most powerful thing a man can say. When Dean kisses you, he kisses you with such passion and fervor, like he can’t get enough out of you, like you’re going to slip away at any moment. Each kiss tells you something different. That’s the thing about Dean, he has an appreciation for a woman’s body like no other man you have met before.

When he first kissed you, it was by surprise. You had no idea Dean was even remotely attracted to you. You had been hunting with him and Sam for years and the man never once made a pass at you. But when he kissed you, there was no doubt in your mind that Dean Winchester loved you. The kiss wasn’t just a sign of attraction, it was a proclamation of his love. The kiss was full of confidence; confidence that you were the one for him, that you would fill the hole inside his heart. It only took one kiss for you both to know that was it, that was your last first kiss.

In the morning, his kisses are lazy, peppered all over your face, like he has all the time in the world. He kisses any exposed skin, your shoulder, your neck, your thighs. It’s as if he spent too much time away from you, even if he dreamt of you all night. He kisses you until your eyes open and you turn towards him to capture his lips with yours.

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Daddy Drabbles #4

- Bucky walks your daughter to preschool - based off (x)

Ring. Ring. Ring. 

Groaning you reached blindly for the phone on your nightstand. “Hello?” you mumbled into the phone your voice half muffled by your pillow. Bucky wakes up just to hear you say “I’ll be right there” and he rolls over to face you with a sigh.

“Did you get called into work?” he asks, knowing you were beyond tired after working yesterday at the hospital.

“They need me” you reply, already getting out of bed. Searching through your clothes you look for your scrubs, Bucky sat up and watched you practically run around the room . “Oh and babe, Layla has preschool in two hours” you reminded him with a quick peck before closing the bathroom door. Bucky let’s out a soft groan before flopping back down on the bed.

Layla was your delightful four year old whose biological father had run out the moment things got too hard. Luckily you had started dating Bucky about a year ago and thanked the universe everyday for sending him into your life. They were like two peas in a pod and it warmed your heart to see them get along so well. For the past two weeks you had made sure to roster your shifts so you could walk her to her new preschool but today Bucky would have to do it alone and it daunted him.

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anonymous asked:

Who would suggest a quickie in the morning before work: for yoonseok/sope


Yoongi is about to get up out of the covers and trudge into the bathroom when a warm hand closes around his wrist. “Hyung,” his boyfriend whispers, and Yoongi feels his heart skip a beat. “Stay a little longer. Please?”

Yoongi’s about to say no (he has work, after all) but then hoseok starts peppering kisses across his face, on the curve of his cheekbones, on the tip of his nose, and then down his neck. And, well, Yoongi’s always been weak hearted.

(7) jaebum as jinyoung's boyfriend.

hello,, it has been,, a long time,, i’m sorry!! >< writer’s block has been my companion for a long time also i lacked the confidence so…

anyway here’s a thing?? or sort of?? i started this quite some time ago and i just recently decided to throw in more pointers beCAUSE WHO DOESN’T LOVE DOMESTIC!JJP ohmygod??? fluff and jjp go together okay.

also!! i’ve never ever done a bulletpoint scenario before, so do bear with me as this is my very first bulletpoint scenario!! ;; i hope you enjoy this!!

jaebum as jinyoung’s boyfriend:

• lots of cuddling

• exchanging great titles now and then

• loves staring at his beautiful face

personally goes down to his filming set just to bring him food and to see his nyeongie act

• overly protective

• pda everywhere and anywherE

• makes him feel so good

• breathes in his shampoo

• says ‘i love you’ a thousand times a day

• first one to be there when jinyoung is upset


• always by his side tbh

• ^ wherever jinyoung is, he is.

• good morning kisses

• the type to always have a hand around his waist

• or even arms wrapped around jinyoung’s waist

• glares at everyone else who tries to flirt with jinyoung

• will always wait for jinyoung after he finishes his shooting

• loves snuggling in bed w jinyoung

• always cuddling

• peppers jinyoung’s face w kisses 24/7

• tbh always has his hand in jinyoung’s

• is like jinyoung’s personal koala

• compliments jinyoung randomly

• spoils him with presents

• is a real greaseball around jinyoung

• casually throws in pick-up lines here and there

• “are you tired? cuz u’ve been running through my mind all day”

• ^ to the point where jinyoung groans loudly and asks him to stop (but his cheeks say otherwise)

• always makes an effort to be the one that wakes jinyoung up

• tries to cook (and fails)

• 90% of the time he goes with whatever jinyoung says

• ^ his opinion is literally jinyoung’s

• constantly telling jinyoung how much he loves him

• flashes him the cutest and brightest smiles

• always makes jinyoung tell him what’s bothering him

• makes jinyoung’s concerns his own

• loves burying his face into jinyoung’s tummy

• but tbh jinyoung buries his face in the crook of jaebum’s neck more often ^

• loves staring at him

• 90% of the smiles he gives jinyoung are the softest smiles ever

• always there to pick jinyoung up (manager hyung, pls resign)

• always gets lost in jinyoung’s eyes

• the type to kiss the inside of his wrists


• spoons jinyoung whenever he gets the chance

• he just really wants to protect his jinyoungie, though.

• makes an effort to interlock their hands

• never wants to let go of his hand

• would buy him expensive gifts tbh

• sucker for jinyoung’s puppy eyes

• kisses jinyoung’s knuckles too

• actually just kisses everywhere

• he loves placing his chin on top of jinyoung’s head

• actually he loves kissing jinyoung’s temple too

• he attacks his neck and jaw too, but that’s another story.

• incredibly soft for him like very very very 너무너무너무 soft

• fool for jinyoung

• hates aegyo but would do it for jinyoung

• actually he does almost everything just for jinyoung

• always reminding jinyoung of his worth

• never ever doubts jinyoung’s love for him

• possesive-ish???

• cheeseball

• always sleeps after jinyoung does

• ^ tbh so he can stare at jinyoung’s peaceful state, but nah

in conclusion, jaebum is just a really soft dork for jinyoung and would do anything for him bc jinyoung is his princess and he’d give the whole world to him if he could. i’m so sappy but i’m too far down the jjp river that i can’t stop ;-; anyway!! hope you enjoyed this!!

Originally posted by got7-ijb-imjaebum

(gif not mine, credits to got7-ijb-imjaebum!!)

Coming Out as a Couple 2: Angst Edition

The angsty part two to my Haikyuu!! “Coming Out as a Couple” headcanons (you can find them here), where this one shows the aftermath of some bullying and rude behavior from peers. There’s still some fluff though because I’m weak.

If you have another request you would like me to do, feel free to ask!

I’ll be using mostly first names in this one and I’ll probably start doing that regularly. If y’all don’t mind.

Thank you for this request and I hope you enjoy! Sorry that it got a bit long!

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This is probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever written. I cried writing it. 

Warnings: Character death, suicidal thoughts, grief and loss.

I would also like to link to this music, which is the music mentioned in this ficlet. I was listening to it whilst writing a particular scene and .. yeah. Emotion overload

Sherlock hadn’t really thought about it before, but he really loathes hospitals. Despite spending hours there for his own research through the years, he cannot really stand the bright lighting, the gleaming white, sterile environment. The light really brought out everyone’s worse features and he is sure he must look a state by the way Molly is looking at him. Pity, sorrow, and an underlying hint of anger - all this he can see, conveyed by her eyes. His fingers quiver on their ascent to scratch at his jaw, weeks of neglecting to reach for the razor blade has left him with itchy stubble peppering his face.

“Show me.” He repeats. Even his voice sounds rough to his own ears.

Molly can see that her attempts to turn Sherlock away are futile. Not for the first time, she berates herself for not being that little bit more confident. Legally, she doesn’t have to show Sherlock and she would do anything to get out of this situation, but looking at him stood there, an already defeated man clinging to his composure, what else can she do? Wordlessly, she turns to the trolley and folds back the sheet, revealing the cadaver beneath. Her eyes close, face slightly crumpling as she fights to remain professional. She expects to hear a sob, a wail and somehow that would be better than the silence and stillness that engulfs the room. Sucking in a breath, she dares to open her eyes and in that moment, she wishes that she didn’t.

Contorted in horror, Sherlock’s features are void of colour, eyes stricken and disbelieving. His lips part but no sound comes out. Molly cannot keep the tears at bay as she watches him lift his hands to face, covering his mouth and for a moment she thinks he might be sick. Instead he trembles, his breath finally coming out in tremulous bursts between his fingers. He’s shaking his head, still no words though and Molly covers the body up again quickly.

“Sherlock, I’m sorry…”

He’s backing away now, eyes moist with unshed tears. Doubling over as if in severe pain, a strangled sound breaks his silence. Molly is at his side in an instant. Sherlock shakes his head again and pulls himself away, blindly turning towards the exit, staggering away, deaf to Molly’s pleas to wait. He leaves the hospital in a blurred frenzy, tumbling through the dark streets with no real destination in mind. The rest of the world fizzes away, leaving him with just himself and an indescribable pain.

His feet carry him to a residential area, where his pace slows as numbness takes over. His head spins and he grasps onto a lamppost for support before continuing, not stopping again until he reaches a sheltered bus stop. Here he collapses on the hard plastic bench, body pressed against the back wall.

“Oh dear, you’ve got yourself into a right state now.”

Sherlock stills. That woman’s voice sounds oddly familiar…

“When was the last time you had a shave?”

Familiar or not, Sherlock is not in the mood for conversation of any kind. “Go away.”

The voice sighs. “Oh pishposh, there’ll be plenty of time to go away later. At least let me see your face.”

An irritated knot forms between Sherlock’s brows as he turns to glare at the woman. “Who exactly are you?” He snaps and then to his surprise, she simply laughs, smiling fondly at him.

Cold ice prickles underneath his skin at that sound. He knows that sound very well. He gazes back at the woman and this time, really looks. Age, possibly late thirties - early forties. Long hair, red dress, crutch, glasses… he squints a little harder and she helps by removing her glasses. His breath catches in his throat.

No. This isn’t.. Did he fall and hit his head?

“Sherlock,” she scolds playfully. “I thought you’re supposed to be clever.”

“M-Mrs Hudson?” Those were definitely her eyes but, how? Is he hallucinating? Did he fall and hit his head?

“Yes dear. Although, I was just Martha back when I was this spring chicken you see before you. Not bad, hey?” She smiles and it’s even more clear that this is his landlady. No one can replicate that smile. It doesn’t stop his nerves from being shaken however. He had just seen the real Mrs Hudson at the hospital, lifeless and certainly not smiling. He slides away slightly on the seat. “You’re dead.”

Martha pulls a face at that. “I suppose I am. It happens to the best of us, there isn’t any avoiding it. Anyway, I brought us some chips because I don’t care about ruining my figure and you look like you’re wasting away.” Reaching into her bag, Martha brings out two trays of chips, handing one to Sherlock who hasn’t stopped staring. “Come on, eat.”

The tray of food is warm in his lap and he finally drags his gaze away from his younger landlady to unwrap his chips. He eats robotically and from the way his stomach churns, he concedes that maybe it’s high time he did eat. He can feel Mrs Hudson’s eyes on him, feel the warmth of her pleased smile and he manages a small, nervous smile in return. I am truly losing my mind, he thinks to himself. This is not a situation he would ever imagine himself being in and the whole evening, right from hearing the tragic news of Mrs Hudsons death, has been surreal. A living nightmare.

“I used to live around here.” Martha gestures to the dimly lit houses. “I never did spend too much time at home mind. I liked to go out and experience life. I’ve been around the block a few times. I was a really catch in my twenties did you know?” She laughs and points to her crutch. “Of course I wasn’t so much hip-hop as hip-op.” Sherlock grimaces at the terrible pun which makes her laugh more. “..and you know all about my husbands.”

“And your girlfriend.” Sherlock adds with a conspiratorial arch of the brow.

“Ah yes, good old Mags. She had seven cats - lovely little things but shed everywhere. We had our first date not far from here, come on I’ll show you.” Martha is already up before Sherlock can protest and so he follows, falling into step beside her, both still picking at their chips. Their walk takes them to a pedestrian bridge that stretches across the Thames, light conversation of days gone by filling the otherwise quiet. Martha does most of the talking, Sherlock simply listening, still feeling numb and kind of disconnected from himself. She tells him of her youthful escapades, her ups and downs, the faces she has met and the places she has been. It is with some regret, that Sherlock realises he didn’t know Mrs Hudson as well as he should have.

After discarding their empty trays into a bin, Martha loops her arm through Sherlock’s and leans into him slightly. He finds he doesn’t mind. It makes him feel a grounded while the world wants to throw him off his feet. After walking a little further in companionable silence, Sherlock finds his voice. “Why are you here?”

Martha stops and turns to him, her eyes shine with fondness but there’s a lingering sadness there too. “Because you’re lonely, Sherlock. You’re unhappy.”

“I’m fine.” It’s an automatic response, something he’s well versed in saying. He looks off, away into the distance.

“I only wish that were the truth but it’s clear to everyone that cares about you that you’re not. Far from it. You haven’t been for a while, have you?”

“Why are you doing this?” The distress strains his voice and he looks at her pleadingly.

“Sherlock, I don’t want you to give up. Don’t give up on him. He makes you happy, you come alive when he’s around. Everything’s a big old mess, I know, but don’t do this to yourself.”

Beside her, Sherlock bristles slightly, shoulders pulling rigid.

“I’ve seen the way you look at him, like he’s the most precious thing in the world. I notice -”

“But he chose her!” Sherlock had meant to sound angry but his words falter as his voice cracks. A sharp exhale follows and he’s turning his back, blinking away tears. “He chose her and she’s going to hurt him. I don’t know how, I don’t know when but its coming and I don’t know if I can watch him break again.”

“Now listen here Sherlock Holmes.” Martha rounds on him, a sternness that reminds him of his own mother in her eyes. “I have put up with a lot over the years but I cannot watch you hurt yourself like this. That Mary or whatever her real name is, when she hurts John, when he ‘breaks’ you’re going to be there. You’re going to take John and put him back together again. That’s what you do for people you love.”

“What if I can’t?”

“Love always finds a way, Sherlock. It may take time, these things always do but in the end, it’s always you two isn’t it? John is worth that isn’t he?”

Sherlock nods. He had already worked out many moons ago that he would lay down and die for John Watson. The man had walked into his life and turned it upside down and inside out. He took a real, unguarded interest in Sherlock’s life instead of sneering and calling him a freak. John Watson is extraordinary and holds Sherlock’s fascination more than any bacterial growth on a slide ever could. Before John, there was nothing but a sea of faces and a suffocating need for something more to fill the ever-present void. Life was bleak, he was alone. John saved him, in many ways and life without him is.. unthinkable.

“He might not want.. it might be too much.” There have been times when Sherlock has seen glimpse of returned affection from John but nothing solid enough to ease his mind and any hope of something more between them was crushed with the arrival of Mary.

“If you keep running away and keeping him in the dark, I agree with you dear.” Martha says bluntly. “You’ve been keeping him at a distance and he doesn’t understand why. He’s upset, Sherlock. He’s been wondering if you’re using again, he’s worried. Forget about Mary, cross that road when you get to it, just talk to him. Let him know you’re still here.”

Sherlock turns to rest his arms on the railings and looks down at the dark waters below. It looks oddly inviting. He swallows. “It’s not just Mary though. There’s the baby as well.”

“Not John’s.”

A moment of stunned silence. “How?”

“A woman knows, Sherlock.”

“…that will kill him.” The revelation sends a trickle of fear down his spine and just as quickly, a flare of anger has him gripping the rails so hard his knuckles turn white. “How could she do this to him? Is it not enough that -” He swallows thickly again. “How did I not know? And John? He’s a doctor!”

Martha’s hand covers his own and she squeezes gently. “These things happen and that is why John needs you and you’re going to be there for him.”

Blinking, Sherlock sags, suddenly feeling exhausted and drained. For the next few minutes the pair remain resting against the rails, looking out across the Thames. The future had always been uncertain for Sherlock but back in the old days, he only had himself to account for and honestly, he saw no future for himself. The thought of sending himself to sleep and never waking up had invaded his mind many a lonely night and it would have been a likely outcome had Mike not walked in with John that fateful day. Fate isn’t something Sherlock would normally consider since it didn’t follow any rules and defied logic. There was no science behind it and yet somehow, it’s comforting to think some higher power may have intervened in his downward spiral. Maybe it is fate that Mrs Hudson is here with him now while her body lies cold on a sterile trolley.

Allowing his eyes to close, Sherlock basks in peace that her presence brings, no matter how fleeting it may be, he wants to cherish this. The distant city sounds are muted enough for him to appreciate the gentle lapping of water and the whisper of a breeze. Then another sound drifts to his ears and lifting his head, he realises it’s not his imagination. He can hear music. Violin. He knows the melody well. Moonriver. The music is hauntingly beautiful and tears once again fill the rims of his eyes. This is one of the songs he learned especially for Mrs Hudson, for her birthday.

She taps his arm.

“I have to go soon dear but before I do, dance with me?” She looks at him, a bright smile on her face despite the wetness of her eyes. How can he deny her?

Sniffing, he takes her hand and guides her away from the railings. With one hand resting on her waist he waits for her to mirror him and then they begin. It’s as easy as breathing. They float gracefully, their movements fluid and practiced. The music carries them and for the first time in a long while, Sherlock feels lighter. He smile through the tears that track down his cheeks, treasures Mrs Hudsons laughs as he swoops and dips her. It’s a wonderful, liberating feeling.

Time is lost as they dance, the notes of moonriver seeming to go on forever. Sherlock doesn’t want it to end, dancing is a passion he rarely gets to enjoy. The last time he danced.. was teaching John. His smile wavers.

“Sherlock. You know I have to go, don’t you?”

Wait. No. Not yet! He wants to plead and that heavy feeling returns with full force, stealing his breath and squeezing his heart.

“Don’t look at me like that. You know I don’t like to see you upset.” The music fades and their dance comes to halt. Martha cups his face and wipes at his tears. “Do you know, I always wanted children. It was always one of my biggest regrets but you, Sherlock, I always saw you like a son. I love you like you were my own flesh and blood. My handsome, clever boy.” She presses a kiss to his cheek as a small sob escapes him.

“I want you to know that you are loved by more people than you think. I want you to look after yourself, talk to John. Don’t give up on him, never give up. You both deserve happiness and I know it’s not out of reach. Go easy on that brother of yours too. I don’t agree with everything he does but I know underneath all that ice, he cares for you. Promise me Sherlock.”

“…I’m so scared.” He admits, sobbing and shuddering, his throat tight and chest heavy.

“I know darling, but it’s going to alright. It really is. You just need to let go, alright?”

“I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m going to miss you too. John as well, but you know I’m always going to be here.” She places her palm against his chest where his heart is somehow still beating. Then her arms are circling him and he embraces her back, eyes squeezing tightly shut.

When he opens them again, he is alone.

A pain rips through him, hot and sharp and doubles over, a scream tearing from his throat as he clutches his chest. His knees buckle and he sinks to the floor, the world crashing down around him.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed when his phone trills in his pocket. A call. It takes a moment for his eyes to focus on the screen.


Habit tells him to ignore it, like he has many times before recently, but Mrs Hudson’s face flickers in his mind and he steels himself to accept the call. He promised her. He’s going to do this. He presses the green button.

“Sherlock? Oh thank god. Thank god. I’ve just had word off Lestrade. I can’t believe - where are you?.. Sherlock?”

After a short pause, he finds the strength to speak.

“I’m coming home.”

@ace-sherlock-holmes @byebyefrost @drool-is-love @apismel1fera @totallysilvergirl @lady–croissant 

so here’s a thing

“I’m a waiter at a lame chain restaurant and I overheard you and your friends scheming to get free dessert so I know for a fact that it is not your birthday and you, frankly, can blow me (oh no I didn’t mean literally) AU”, from that “imagine your otp” post that’s been going around again

(Speaking as someone who has worked in multiple restaurants including a Denny’s, this is highly inaccurate and I regret nothing)

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The Heart of Egypt’s King

Originally posted by takethatjen

Fandom: Night at the Museum

Rating: K
Character(s): Ahkmenrah
Word Count: 1,349
Prompt: As NATM 3 is coming out soon do you think you could write some fluff with Ahk or something?
Requested by: Anonymous
A/N: Kind of now also based on this imagine. I’ve tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible. In fact I don't think there’s any indication of reader gender at all

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pokemaniacgemini  asked:


Thank you~!  I love Jack’s design too, he’s the big boss of Skull-Kid. Tough guy to beat that works with the Pumpkin Witch, Pepper. Though he’s quite mysterious, and perhaps has a face under that pumpkin head, who knows~?

cavaleiro-de-dragao  asked:

Please, write more of that ironpanther au, it was really good >< (or any more ironpanther, the lack of fanfic for them is depressing). Thanks!!

Okay, okay, here goes! 

Following after my first post

When Tony is taken in Afghanistan T’Challa is mad with worry. Tony tries to reassure him time and time again through their bond but after the first month there was only so much he could say. When he breaks free and Rhodey finally finds him they head for Wakanda first where everyone fusses over him. Pepper heads over the moment she can. Tony creates Iron Man and can’t keep it a secret from T’Challa because of the bond, Pepper because she’s hyper vigilant and Rhodey because he recognizes when Tony is trying to keep a secret. Obie gets taken down almost instantly because Pepper isn’t as weak and fragile as everyone thinks she is and Tony may or may not have had sparring sessions with both her and Rhodey and T’Challa and the Dora (they are vicious!) and learned a bit of boxing from Happy.

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