romantic afternoon

turtleangel94  asked:

“i said i love you.” for Bakushima? :D

With a whistle the first fireworks cut the sky in a half before exploding in a million of colors. 

All of them run towards the edge of the rocks to get a better look, pointing and laughing together, the whole class  grinning the same smiles full of joy and cheerfulness.Fireworks at the end of the summer is mandatory and the class 1-A is making the most of it by watching and screaming with excitement. All of the teenagers watch as the fireworks turn the sky into a technicolored show. 

All, but one. Bakugou Katsuki’s eyes see something much closer to the ground. 

Bakugou is staring at Kirishima, watching as the colors reflect on his happy face, as his smile stretches impossibly with laughter, too beautiful to be real. The only reason Bakugou doesn’t assume Kirishima is a dream is the fact that Kirishima’s hand is safely tucked in his, their fingers intertwined firmly. He can’t stop staring as if Kirishima will vanish at some point, because he’s too good, too good to be real. Bakugou’s feelings threaten to overflow at any moment now. I love you, I love you, Kirishima, I love everything about you, I love you...

“I love you.” He hears himself saying beneath all of the noise.

Kirishima turns his eyes to Bakugou, distracted from the fireworks for a moment. “What was that?”

Bakugou could take that chance and brush it off. Maybe it’s too early in their relationship for that kind of confession. He’s nothing if not honest, though, and he won’t go back on his words. Not when he’s so sure.

It’s just a coincidence that everything goes quiet for a short second, everyone expecting the next launching. Bakugou isn’t paying attention to his surroundings, and he probably wouldn’t care if he was. Thus everything is silent and his voice carries when he says:

“I said I love you.”

Explosions in the sky are nothing compared to the noise the rest of the class makes when more than one head turns towards them and understands who said what to whom. 

It doesn’t matter, though. For once, Bakugou doesn’t pay any mind to his annoying classmates, because then Kirishima is in his arms, Kirishima’s lips are on his, his strong arms firmly wrapped around Bakugou’s waits as he softly mutters “I love you too” against Bakugou’s mouth. 

This time, it feels like the fireworks are in his chest.

star-anise  asked:

Prompt: The Kiss never happened. Bitty was dating a fuckboy in Providence (maybe he went to Brown or sthg) and they just broke up. He knocks on Jack's door and asks if he can hole up and cry for a little before he goes back to Samwell.

When someone knocked on his apartment door, Jack had assumed that it could be Bitty. Anyone other than him would’ve had to buzz in from the front door to get in. Bitty, on the other hand, usually buzzed in to get into his boyfriend Poots’ apartment and then stopped by Jack’s to bring him pie and spend time with him after a romantic afternoon-or night- with James. 

He couldn’t have thought that Bitty would be standing in front of him with puffy red eyes and a bottle of vodka. 

“H-hey, Jack. C-can I come in?” He sniffed. “James-James dumped me.” 

Jack silently led him in and sat him down on the couch. Bitty sniffed again, and when Jack held out his arms, he gasped and fell into them. Bitty clung to Jack as he sobbed and and shook, his small frame almost engulfed by Jack’s arms and the way Jack instinctively curled himself around Bitty. He wanted to protect Bitty from the world and from everything that hurt him. He wanted to march down to Poots’ apartment and beat him up for doing this to Bitty. He wanted to make Bitty stop hurting and sobbing in his arms, nothing made Jack more frustrated than the uncontrollable tears coursing down Bitty’s face and staining his shirt. 

If it had been me, he thought. I would never let him cry like this. I would always make time for him. I wouldn’t have blown him off because someone else wanted my time when he finally comes to visit me. 

“We-we were talking about summer plans. And I was just- just saying how hard this whole thing is-was. And he said if I thought it was a burden then we should end it. I shouldn’t have complained,” Bitty sobbed. “I didn’t want to make him feel pressure. It was so hard and I tried so hard and it wasn’t enough.”

“It was enough, you are more than enough for anyone. Poots was just blind and couldn’t see that,” Jack thumbed away Bitty’s tears. “You love him so much and he couldn’t see that.” 

Bitty looked up at Jack, his expression indiscernible for a moment, then sniffed and pressed his face into Jack’s shoulder again. 

“Can I stay here for the night? I think I need this. The boys and Lardo don’t know a thing about James, and I want- Jack, I need you.” 

Jack pressed a light kiss on top of Bitty’s head as he cradled him in his arms. “We can do romcoms and ice cream. And I’ll monitor your vodka intake.” 

He felt Bitty tighten his grip around his body and wished that they could stay entwined like this forever.

“I’d like that,” Bitty said. 

Over Mean Girls and She’s All That, Bitty started to open up about the breakup.

“I mean, it’s not like I couldn’t see it happening. I think we both knew that James wasn’t- he wasn’t exactly the most considerate gentleman,” Bitty said, curled between Jack’s legs. Jack loved the solid weight against his front and had to remind himself not to nuzzle Bitty’s neck. “But I always thought that we could talk it over and come to an agreement. We- um-” Bitty fidgeted. “We were…together, tonight. So I thought that we still had some good days left and maybe after his first season, James would settle down a bit more and stop being…”

“A flakey douchebag,” Jack said. He tried not to imagine Bitty and Poots having sex, but it was hard when Bitty’s scent pervaded his nose and his weight was pressing against him. 

“Yes,” Bitty agreed. “So it feels like he just threw me away, like I’m only worth- um,” he blushed, no doubt thinking about what he did for Poots. Bitty sighed. “I suppose dating isn’t worth it.”

“You just haven’t found the right person, Bittle. You’re worth so much,” Jack said. 

Bitty sighed and turned so that he was resting the side of his head on Jack’s shoulder and his breath tickled Jack’s throat. “I wish…I wish I can be a bit more assertive.” He smelled like vodka and artisanal beer, and his eyes were so dilated that Jack could barely see the warm brown that usually peers up at him. “I should’ve stayed and tried to talk to him instead of wimping out and immediately leaving after he told me we were over. Maybe I wouldn’t lose so much dignity. And I-Jack-I had so many things to say to you at graduation. And so many times when we saw each other. So many things, but I just wimp out as usual.”

“You’re not a wimp, and even if you can’t say anything, that’s okay,” Jack said. “We can work on it, it’ll be like checking practice. We’re still a team, Bittle.”

“Oh, Jack.” Bitty looked up at him, almost adoringly. Was that the right word? It felt like the right word, even though Jack knew he was only inserting descriptions to make himself feel more important to Bitty. 

Bitty took a deep breath and another swig of vodka before Jack could stop him. 

“Jack. I-I-at graduation-what I wanted to say-” Bitty faltered. “I thought you were going to leave us. And I’m so glad that you’re still one of my closest friends.” 

And if Bitty hadn’t just been dumped, if his feelings hadn’t clearly been a mess, Jack would’ve replied to that with an “I love you,” and kissed him and kissed him and never let him go. Instead he smoothed Bitty’s cowlick and smiled, “You’ll always be one of the closest people to me.” 

He let his hand linger and Bitty leaned into it, silently tracking tears down his face and letting Jack comfort him. 


Extra:

One floor down, James Fitzgerald walked around his apartment in a frenzy. Shit, shit, shit. He just dumped Eric. He was so sure that Eric was about to give him the relationship talk and end it that he couldn’t take the suspense and told Eric that they were better off separated. And now Eric wasn’t answering his texts or picking up his calls, and Poots was sure that he’s gone to Jack’s place. And shit- Jack was going to kill him. 

2

Title: Me, Myself and Her (Io e Lei)
Year: 2015
Language: Italy (Subtitles)

Plot: Marina and Federica have been together for five years now, and although they share the same apartment, bed, face cream, they laugh and they fight, but even they, are sometimes not sure if they’re really a couple.

Basic Review:

  • A beautiful view of a mature lesbian relationship. The characters are sensual but emotionally charged and even sometimes flawed. They seem real and it allows the audience to empathise with them.
  • I loved the architecture and symmetry in the shots, where cool Italian afternoons make romantic connections twice as magical.
  • I disliked the temptation of heterosexuality when one of the woman takes interest in a man for a while, but its a clear choice and a happy ending for the women overall.
  • A totally cute soundtrack to whisp you away and some beautiful butterfly in your stomach moments.
pulled the daisies fine // nurseydex

a/n: thought i’d reverse a typical fandom trope and send dex up to nursey’s for the new year. it goes about as well as you would expect. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

word count: 4.3k

“Hm, so, this would be fun if we weren’t collegiate level hockey players who learned how to skate when we were ten,” Dex deadpans after about five minutes of skating around the Rockefeller Center ice rink.

“This is fun!” Nursey insists, squeezing Dex’s hand through his chunky mittens, “it’s relaxing.”

Off to their left about three different toddlers start crying at once, and Dex gives Nursey a look.

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As smooth as Gilmore comes across, I think it’s really important to remember that this is also the man who left for a romantic afternoon date on a moment’s notice as soon as Vax asked, who came running in from another city the instant he heard that Vax was there looking for him.  Like, he puts a lot of effort into his casually charming demeanor, but make no mistake there is a 99.99% chance that he has been absentmindedly casting Prestidigitation to scrawl sparkly arcane hearts in the air around him and doodling “♡♥Mr. Vax’ildan Gilmore♥♡♥” over and over in the margins of his spellbook.

Hey Jude

== Dean Winchester x Reader || Fluff Overload || Request 

Words: 2,916

A/N: I linked this story to a previous one called The Visitor. I highly suggest you read that one first before you read this. You can find it right here!

@galactictoastxd1 - Thank you for the request! Sorry it took so long to get to. 

The moment Dean opened his eyes and remembered what day it was, a big smile covered his face. He quickly pushed the blankets off and hopped out of bed, eagerly throwing some clothes on.

“Ah,” he whispered, remembering that Y/n was still sleeping soundly. Tip-toeing to her side of the bed, he admired her as he buttoned up his shirt. “My baby,” he said softly, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss his girlfriend. He had errands to run before she woke up; he wanted this day to be perfect.

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Valentine’s Hunt

This year for Valentine’s Day Cas didn’t prepare anything too fancy. Dean’s not a big fan of fancy, after all. So they are just gonna eat whatever dinner Dean cooks, followed by the best pecan pie in town. Then a cuddling session in front of the TV with a movie of Dean’s choice.

Then, at last, there’ll come the gift for Dean from his Valentine. The fragrance of scented oils and the warmth of candlelights filling the room, Cas’s fingers working out the knots in Dean’s muscles, the tension he always carries on his back. Sounds exactly like something Dean could use and appreciate. Hopefully, it won’t turn into a greasy disaster.

Cas took the idea from the internet, one of the many—very many—lists of heartfelt gifts for the one that you love. He even practiced some massaging techniques with videos on YouTube. That paired with his knowledge of human anatomy and specifically of Dean’s anatomy, should be perfectly pleasurable and relaxing for both of them.

And, knowing Dean, it has a potential to turn into something even more pleasurable and relaxing, which Cas is completely okay with.

Cas bought the candles—a whole box of them—and the oils during their case last week, has kept them carefully hidden since. The oils were a tough product to buy; as tiny as the store was, it had a wide choice of scents and Cas had no idea which Dean would enjoy and which he’d despise. He probably should have known that about him by now, but he doesn’t, so he decided to buy as many as he could afford and hope for the best.

Turns out, the purchase was a complete waste of money. And Cas’s plan was a complete waste of hopes for a quiet, romantic afternoon. They don’t even get anywhere near the dinner part; Dean’s not in the kitchen when Cas comes back with the pie, still warm, straight from the bakery. He’s not in the main room, nor the library.

“Try hi— uh, your bedroom,” Sam offers, never taking his eyes off the laptop’s screen.

Cas furrows his brow and turns to the corridor. He knocks the door of their bedroom out of the habit and pushes them open.

Dean’s not there, but on the bed, there’s a different, dark shape. Cas feels for the light switch on the wall and as soon as the room goes bright, he wishes he never lit it in the first place. It’s Cas’s black suit—the nicer one—shirt, and even a blue tie, laid at the feet of their bed. On top of it, there’s a contrasting piece of paper. Cas knows what’s on it before he even lifts it.

Scribbled in Dean’s hasty handwriting, the message goes:

We’ve got a case. Suit up and meet me in the garage. Details on the way.

Cas gives out a loud, frustrated growl and barely stops himself from kicking the bed, as illogical and fruitless as the reaction would be. He’s not even angry about all the preparations that go to waste, or the box filled with fake chocolate, fake roots and other fragrances - those they can use at some other time. He’s not angry about working case on Valentine’s - Dean doesn’t care for the occasion and neither should Cas.

He’s just spent too much time on imagining Dean laying on top of their bed, half-naked, skin glistening with the oils, muscles loosening, one by one, under Cas’s touch, hums of pleasure escaping his lips. How is he supposed to wait even a day longer for that, now?

But that’s the job, isn’t it? Ghost and monsters don’t take breaks for Valentine’s and people keep on dying. Cas shrugs his clothes off and puts on the FBI attire Dean prepared for him and the coat from the back of a chair, throws the last, longing look towards the bed, and runs for the garage.

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