seems like the only one who doesn't see your beauty is the face in the mirror looking back at you

A Little Bit of Mischief

Warning ; Mild smut

Originally posted by lucifersagents

Originally posted by lovershub

Ah the holiday season.

The lights, the presents , the snow, the food. The family time.

Oh the anxiety, the dread.

The hours of standing in front of the mirror, trying to tuck every roll, every bit of flab in. Slapping on foundation to cover the pimples. Plucking your eyebrows, shaving all the hair you’d never bothered to shave before. Practicing Italian while you rolled the lint off Tony’s suit.

He noticed how tense you were, how your hands seemed to shake at they moved swiftly off the jacket.

“You have met my parents before y’know. It’s not like they grew fangs or something” he chuckled, slowly removing your hand from the lint roller.

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anonymous asked:

Can I have a scenario of Aomine where he has a gf who is simple and very natural, like she doesn't put anything on her face, doesn't wear pretty clothes, etc. but she's ok with her natural self, but one time after seeing sophisticated model/actresses on tv or magazine she suddenly feels kind of envious and wish she was beautiful like them. So how would Aomine deal with this situation? Thanks and more power to your blog!

yaaay aomine daiki ❤️

-

And next on Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show…“ 

You watched intently as the model strutted elegantly to the front of the stage, placing a hand on her hip as she jutted it outwards.

There was a shyness to her, hesitation in her body movements and a softness in her voice as she answered her first question. Her eyes, pools of iridescent blue gleamed as she flashed her pearly whites.

You debated on turning off the TV but decided against it, marching over to the full length mirror in your room. You picked up a liquid eyeliner you bought ages back, just about to bring the tip to your eyelids when you heard the front door open. 

Crap. You forgot Aomine was coming over today. 

He greeted you with a kiss as he walked in,

“Hey, babe.” 

He was wearing a loose fitting shirt and joggers and he looked like he was ready to crash. But the both of you had been going out for so long that what you wore didn’t matter as much anymore. 

“Hey you.” You smiled at him before turning back to the mirror, picking up where you left off.

“What are you watching? I didn’t know you liked these shows.” He smirked, sitting in front of the TV.

“I don’t.” You admitted, applying a line black liner. Your fingers trembled, causing the results to come out uneven.

“What are you doing?”

“Make up.” You stated plainly. 

“I know, but why?” 

“Do you think it looks good?” You said, trying to correct your smudges and uneven edges.

“Hah?”

Your boyfriend may be oblivious most of the time but he could easily sense something was wrong when you try to make changes. Especially to yourself.

“Stop fuckin’ around and come here.” He motioned you over, eyes half closed.

“I’m being serious.” You applied mascara next, trying to recall the model’s appearance from earlier.

“No, I don’t.”

You snapped your head towards him, “Are you calling me ugly?”

“What are you talking about?” His tone showed signs of annoyance. He wasn’t sure what you were playing at. “I never said that. I just don’t think everyone looks good with all that crap on their faces.”

“So I’m ugly with and without make up? Is that what you’re saying?”

What was so wrong about trying to change what you looked like? All other girls seem to be doing it. And heck they look good with it. 

Aomine’s eyes bounced from you to the TV screen, realisation of what was happening hitting him. But you looked like you were concentrating really hard, pumping the mascara wand - the only one you had. He didn’t get it though. He knew you looked fantastic without make up, and he thought you knew it too.

“Wouldn’t a change be nice? I might even be good enough to look like Mai-chan.” Your eyes met through the reflection of the mirror. “You can’t admit you don’t like her, come on.”

“Oi, what? Why are you making accusations, you idiot?” His eye twitched, grabbing the remote and muting the noise. Aomine only called you an idiot when he was either

1.  Feeling attacked by words

2.  Saying something really cheesy

Both a habit he picked up from you.

You shot him a pissed off look.

“I pressed the wrong button, don’t blow up on me.” He raised his hands in surrender, a smirk on his face as he finally turned the TV off.

“I don’t like them anyways.” He said suddenly.

“I didn’t say anything.” You said.

“You thought it.” He mumbled.

“Alright fine. What about that collection of Mai-chan magazines I found in your lockers? Do you like those?” You challenged.

“Mai-chan has noth- Wait, you went through my locker?” He asked incredulously.

“You asked me to take your jersey for you, dumbass. As if you don’t remember!”

“Why would I remember something like that?” He started to close his eyes. He did not want to get into an argument. Especially not with you.

“Alright whatever.” You said after a few seconds.

His eyelids flapped open and he gave you a suspicious look. You never usually let an argument slide this easily.

“Go fawn over your magazines, I guess.”

“Oi, babe, come on.”

Why did you pick me? You wanted to ask.

I mean you’re the Ace of Tōō.

“Why does that matter?” He was sitting upright now, unsure by what you meant.

“Did I say that aloud?” You wanted to slap yourself.

Aomine sighed, fully knowing that he had to be serious now.

“Come here.” He said, making room for you.

“Why?”

He was starting to get a little irritated. You may be the best thing that’s ever happened to him but moments like this always made frustration well up inside of him.

“Babe, one of the reasons I like you is because you’re not like them. I don’t want to be with some plastic doll with fake noses, okay?” He grabbed your by the shoulders. “I want you. You’re fucking beautiful.” He looked away quickly. “You can be such an idiot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled, scratcing the back of his head.

“Any chance of you repeating that?” You loved seeing this rare part of Aomine.

You strutted over to him, giving him a kiss on the lips while murmuring the words, “Thank you.”

He returned your kiss whole-heartedly, his hands snaking around your waist as he pulled you in closer. You broke it off reluctantly when you started to feel the uncomfortableness of the mascara clumps on your eyelashes. Aomine watched as you wiped your face in one go, taking off your make up along with it.

“I’d choose you over Mai-chan anyday.” He grumbled, a tinge of pink on his tanned cheeks.

You couldn’t stop the grin forming on your face, “You’re an idiot, Daiki.”

But I love you anyways.

anonymous asked:

Could you write something with Jealous Lovino?

Summary: Idk, why, but jealous people are cute sometimes.
_____________________
Lovino would never call himself jealous, he was a reserved man who liked to do things on his own, but when he found Antonio it felt like a fight or die kind of situation. This man was different than his asshole boyfriends, he was there for him even when he wasn’t even there for himself. So in Lovino’s brain, he was a goddamn keeper.

Always at noon is when Antonio got his lunch break and Lovino did as well, so they met in the middle. He would walk the block to the tattoo parlor, pick up Antonio, they’d have lunch at Feliciano’s bakery, then Antonio would go back to work. Easy, 10/10, best plan in the world.

Scratch that out when this customer kept coming in. Lovino would come at noon, dressed in red swim shorts and a life guard wife-beater and his boyfriend wouldn’t be there waiting there. Of course he asked the nice lady with large gauges at the desk if she had seen Antonio and she pointed to the back room. ‘Just go in,’ she drawled in a common southern accent, ‘he’s just finishing up his last appointment. This lady really likes his work.’

Swallowing the molten lava that seemed to push up from his stomach he headed to the back and knocked. There was a giggle before he heard Antonio tell who ever to come in. Inside was his boyfriend hanging over this lady’s chest, tattooing the skin between her breasts. She looked goth, kind of like the girl everyone would imagine Antonio with. Huge gauges, a v cut bang haircut, heavily tattooed. Here he was standing in the most white boy life guard outfit, the only thing marring his skin were bunches of freckles and sun spots.

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bellamyblakesprotectionsquad2k17  asked:

Slides into your inbox because I see you're accepting soulmate prompts (my FAVORITE!): Where a tattoo isn’t set from the moment you’re born and whatever tattoos your soulmate gets, you get it too and it’s all cool because you kind of like the designs (I cut off the end of this prompt because I didn't like it and wanted there to be an option where there's like...one that either B or C doesn't like)

Alrighty, done! Sorry for the wait, April, but I hope you like it! :)

Also on AO3



This is how it starts:

Bellamy Blake wakes up with flowers blooming on the skin of his hipbones and his first thought isn’t that he’s got a soulmate who wanted roses all over their skin. No.

His first thought is that they have thorns and maybe they suit him.

“You’re just poking holes in something that should be good,” Octavia tells him, rolling her eyes like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do.

So Bellamy swats at her leg and returns to examining the tattoo in front of the mirror. She sits cross-legged on his bed and muses about who his soulmate might be. At sixteen, the thought seems romantic to her.

“Just imagine – it’s your soul’s other part. Someone who’s predestined to be good for you.”

But Bellamy doesn’t smile, his finger hovering above a rose curling into the vee of his hips, like he’s afraid that the ink will disappear if he touches it. Like it might be poison or medicine and he’s not sure which is which. His face stays frozen in a scowl because he’s seen what soulmates do to people and he has no intention of loving someone so much he’d set himself on fire to keep them alive.

“Sure, O,” he murmurs, breaking the spell of being stuck between his reflection in the mirror and the dark, unfilled ink of his soulmate’s tattoo. “Good for me.”

This is how it starts:

Clarke Griffin is sixteen and wakes up with a map of Earth on her back, spaces between lines begging to be filled with color. She stands in front of her closet mirror for the longest time, eyes widening and narrowing in accord to finding that this is one of the most beautiful tattoos she could have ever imagined.

Clarke Griffin is sixteen and she’s got charcoal smudges on her cheeks. The only thing she can do is want to paint art on her skin, too.

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anonymous asked:

Hey love. You're so amazing. You are just perfect yourself and you do also write absolutely awesome imagines. I thought maybe you can write one where the 'You' person doesn't like herself. She thinks she is ugly and useless. And nobody has ever said to her she was beautiful or something like that. But then she meets Harry, and out all of the beautiful girls around he picks her. I am sorry if this is a bit long but the thing is... Sometimes I feel like the 'you' person. Without a Harry. xxx

A/N: Thank you so very much! You are a wonderful person and I hope you feel better about yourself because you deserve it. <3

Days, weeks and soon months passed and you couldn’t seem to shake yourself out of your desolate state of hopelessness.

You felt run down, like you couldn’t do anything right. You shut yourself off from everything around you simply because you didn’t want to burden the world with your sadness.

You spent the majority of your time staring at your reflection in the mirror picking out every nit-picky flaw you could find. You’d take numerous showers to try to wash away the film of sadness covering your flesh, but the sadness was embedded in your soul.

You constantly walked around looking at the ground, avoiding any form of human contact. You hated yourself and you didn’t want anyone to have to look at you. The feat that if you’d lock eyes with someone they’d see the sadness in your eyes haunted you whenever you were forced to go in public.

You were miserable in your own skin and that was the sad truth.

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself but all you really wanted was someone to notice you, to see how low you held your head and use their finger to bring it up. You needed someone to save you from your negative thoughts and replace your sadness with happiness but no one would come.

“I’m so sorry,” a voice called which snapped you out of your state of sadness. You were taking your typical route to class when you crashed into a stranger which caused you to fall on the ground. You looked up from the ground to immediately apologize at whomever you crashed into but you stopped yourself short. 

“No, it’s my fault.” You said softly and got up without touching him despite the hand he was holding out for you to grab. You wanted to spare him the disgust of touching such a vile human being.

You wiped the dirt off of your backside and stared down at your feet, a force of habit. The guy before you looked familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly who he was.

“It was my fault.” He tried to reassure you and you shrugged your shoulders. It was an odd gesture but you couldn’t think of anything else to do. 

“I think I’ve seen you around before. You’re going to class now right?" 

You nodded. 

"I am as well. Would you accept my offer of buying you a coffee since I knocked you over?”

You wanted to continue to parade around and be miserable, but something was telling you to say yes to his offer. So you nodded yes once more.

He led you to a coffee shop and you trailed behind him. Watching the backs of his brown boots as you walked down the streets was the only way you knew where he was going.

He opened the door to the coffee shop and a bell chimed as you walked inside. The coffee shop was small but the overpowering scent of coffee filled up the empty space.

“What would you like?” He asked politely and he looked over at you. You were aware of how he was looking at you but you couldn’t dare to look up at him.

“Whatever you’re getting.” You said softly and he nodded. He asked the blonde woman behind the counter for two medium coffees and he handed her his credit card. She swiped his card and then handed it back to him along with a receipt.

You stood slightly behind him so you could look at him without him noticing. It was sort of an odd habit, but you had many of those. When you’re insecure you learn how to do things other people can with ease in your own way.

He was a tall guy with brown locks that were hidden by the black beanie covering his head. He was very attractive. Too attractive to be seen with you, your subconscious added.

Your insecurities began to overpower you and you felt like shutting down. What were you thinking? You went to a coffee shop with some guy you didn’t even know. You were stupid and you felt like crawling into a hole until your 100th birthday. You didn’t want to be a burden, but you were being a burden.

A styrofoam cup was handed to you and you pressed the edge to your lips. The guy headed over to an empty table in the back corner of the shop and he sat down. 

You wanted to leave more than anything but you were already a burden and you didn’t want to be rude as well. So you unwillingly sat down across from him and eyed the cup in front of you.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t asked for you name,” he began after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. 

“I’m Y/N.” You said softly and from the corner of your eye you could see a small frown grow across his face. Now not only were you a burden you were also making him upset, great.

“Nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Harry.” He said politely and you nodded for perhaps the millionth time. 

“Can I ask you something?” He said softly and you pressed the cup to your lips with a nod. “I’ve seen you around before and not once have I seen your face.”

“I don’t like when people look at me,” you began and you placed the cup back down on the table. “You must think I’m craz-”“Not at all.” He chimed in and you peered up at him.

Why you looked at him was beyond you, but you were glad that you did. His eyes were a bright green color and as soon as you looked up a smile formed across his face. 

“Now I know why you don’t look up.” He said and you felt your heart shatter. You looked back down at the table and thought of smacking yourself in the face. All of your insecurities were proven correct. You were ugly, disgusting and horrible. You felt like the biggest idiot in the world thinking that a guy like him could ever like someone like you. “I know why you don’t look up.” He repeated and you could feel tears brim your eyes. You wanted to get up and run away but part of you wanted to hear what he had to say. You wanted to hear him tell you all the things you told yourself daily, that you were ugly and worthless. But he didn’t.

“You don’t look up Y/N because the hideous world doesn’t deserve to see such a beautiful face, so you keep it to yourself.” He said with sincerity and you shook your head. 

“You’re wrong,” you began and the tears began to fall from your eyes. “You’re so wrong.”

Harry saw the tears begin to fall from your eyes and he immediately got up from his seat and sat next to you. He hesitated before placing his hands on your cheeks and wiping the tears from your eyes. 

“No,” he said after he wiped your eyes. “You’re wrong.” He left his hands on your face and you looked up at him again. 

"You’re beautiful Y/N,” He said softly and for once in your life you didn’t look away. “I wish you saw what I saw because then you’d understand.”

anonymous asked:

idk i kinda don't like TS bc in her song she literally says 'she wears short skirts, i wear t-shirts, she's cheer captain and i'm on the bleachers' or smth like that, so she's reducing that other girl down to that in order to show how different and unique taylor is and instead of being like GODDAMN boy you are so shitty for being with a girl you don't love, she's kinda blaming the gf because she 'doesn't get you the way I do'. but what do you think, ally?? x

Taylor wrote You Belong With Me over seven years ago. Seven years ago. I know I was nowhere near as educated on feminism, female rivalry or slut shaming as I am today, and I would assume the same can be said for yourself and Taylor too. 

In 2011, she said:

“I think that my first record came out when I was 16, the next one, Fearless, came out when I was 18 and this one came out when I was 20, so I think there’s a lot of personal growth,” she explained.
“I look back on the record I made when I was 16, and I’m so happy I made it. I got to immortalize those emotions that when you’re so angry, you hate everything. It’s like recording your diary over the years, and that’s a gift.”

I know when I was 16 if I’d been through a breakup or had a crush on a guy who was dating somebody I hated, my diary would probably have been filled with the exact same sentiments, if not a lot worse. 

She no longer performs Better Than Revenge (another old song critiqued for slut shaming), I’m not too sure about YBWM but with her plethora of new amazing hits, it might not make the cut either.

Taylor noted her education on feminism after Emma Watson’s speech on gender equality: 

“I wish when I was 12 years I had been able to watch a video of my favorite actress explaining in such an intellectual, beautiful and poignant way the definition of feminism. Because I would’ve understood it, and then early on in my life I would’ve proudly claimed that I was a feminist.”

Since then, she has also said:

"I do believe as a feminist is that in order to have gender equality we have to stop making it a girl fight and we have to stop being so interested in girls tearing each other down it has to be more about cheering each other on as women.”

“Other women who are killing it should motivate you, thrill you, challenge you and inspire you rather than threaten you and make you feel like you’re immediately being compared to them. The only thing I compare myself to is me…You just try to lead by example, and you hope, someday, that if we talk about feminism enough, maybe we’ll start to actually see it make a difference in the way young girls perceive themselves and each other.”

“As a teenager, I didn’t understand that saying you’re a feminist is just saying that you hope women and men will have equal rights and equal opportunities. What it seemed to me, the way it was phrased in culture, society, was that you hate men. And now, I think a lot of girls have had a feminist awakening because they understand what the word means. For so long it’s been made to seem like something where you’d picket against the opposite sex, whereas it’s not about that at all. Becoming friends with Lena – without her preaching to me, but just seeing why she believes what she believes, why she says what she says, why she stands for what she stands for – has made me realise that I’ve been taking a feminist stance without actually saying so.”

And lastly, in defence of the critiqued lyrics;

“I was 18 when I wrote that. That’s the age you are when you think someone can actually take your boyfriend. Then you grow up and realise no one take someone from you if they don’t want to leave.”

Taylor Swift has both 
a) faced more sexism and sexist-fueled judgement than any artist I know, and also
b) showed more personal development than any artist I know.

Despite being widely, publicly and constantly made fun of for her own personal and private love life, Taylor continues to produce songs, create incredible tours, bake cookies for fans, invite fans over to her house, surprise fans with presents, and handles her life (ie paparazzi, rude articles, being constantly watched and ridiculed, being one of the busiest people in the world, the whole kanye thing…) with the utmost grace and dignity. I can’t even begin to imagine how challenging and frustrating it must be to live your life entirely in the public eye without any privacy. We’ve all made mistakes and been able to change as a person, but we aren’t faced with scrutiny over something we did years and years ago every day as an argument against us. 

What I most admire is her very evident and public growth, which likely mirrors similar changes we have found within ourselves as we age and learn more about the culture we live in. I started listening to her music in 07 or 08, and have since been able to watch her grow from a cute, small-town school-aged country artist, to a young woman empowered and taking over the world. 

Taylor seems like one of the most down-to-earth, considerate, honest, authentic, vulnerable, strong, good-natured celebrities/human beings alive today. I think she would make an incredibly supportive friend, and I know for a fact that she makes a terrific role model.

anonymous asked:

It makes me so sad when Ed says stuff like he doesn't like the way he looks! Your tag 'i like seeing you' on the quote just hit it home for me because we can say about how much we think he is hot but he will never see it and he will never believe it. :( I want tell Ed how much I adore his face but he will never know. :(

I get it, man. So many people find the boy attractive, and it’s a real shame that it doesn’t seem to have much of an effect on his own personal view of his looks. But that’s like everyone, really. Almost no one rates themselves as high as other people rate them. You see your own flaws. This is something I have to remind myself of just about every time I go out in public: statistically, almost everyone I see will think I am more attractive than I personally think I am. It’s a reassuring thought to have, for sure, but it doesn’t change the fact that I look in the mirror and only see a bunch of things I wish were different. 

Ed is beautiful, though. 

This is something I never say out loud about anyone. I think it all the time, but I don’t say it because I’m so stupidly shy and it’s just sort of an awkward thing to say to someone. Like when all my sister’s hair fell out because of chemo and she was so sad, but her bald head is so symmetrical and she has some freckles on top that we never even knew were there, and the fact that she doesn’t have hair really brings out her eyes in a way I never noticed before, but I didn’t tell her she was beautiful because I don’t know how to say things like that and sound normal.

I wonder what Ed would think about being called beautiful. That word. Guys don’t seem to like it very much. I don’t know if it’s because we normally use it to describe traditionally feminine things or if it’s because it’s so loaded, so intense. If you tell someone they’re beautiful, you either sound insincere or too sincere, like whoa hey back off buddy stop staring. It’s cheesy or it’s creepy or it’s unappreciated. Unless you’re talking about a landscape or a piece of music. I want beautiful to be a simple observation, the way it is when I see Ed and it occurs to me, and then I move on to other things. If I could say it the way I think it, like it’s just the truth and no big deal, like chocolate tastes good, ouch I just got a splinter, I should probably return my boss’s email, Ed is beautiful, need to feed the cats… then maybe I would have told him before. I feel like it’s something people ought to be telling him. But it would be so many different levels of weird coming from me.

I don’t know. Maybe people do tell him he’s beautiful and he just doesn’t believe it yet.

I think he’s got this idea like his features aren’t attractive because they don’t match up with the features of certain conventionally attractive people. What a silly idea. I would tell him that, if I were someone who could say out loud the things that I think. I would say, “Ed, your idea that conventional beauty is the only kind of beauty is silly and narrowminded and I am offended by it.” People who are conventionally attractive are attractive to a lot of folks. That’s why it’s called conventional. But that doesn’t mean that they’ve got the market cornered on beauty. I think Brad Pitt has a beautiful smile, but I think Ed’s smile is beautiful too. Why does one have to be better than the other? Two different things can be beautiful. They can make you feel the same way even if they aren’t alike. Right?

The irony here is that Ed wrote a whole song about finding someone beautiful who doesn’t find herself beautiful. He clearly understands this concept. And yet he doesn’t get that his “little things” are perfect too. 

If it weren’t such a weirdly intimate and awkward thing for a fan to do with an artist, and if I thought it would make any difference at all, I would want to hold up a mirror in front of this guy and describe out loud to him every single thing about him that I find so captivating. Like… like I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned this here before, but his eyelids, right? They’re so delicate. He closes his eyes a lot when he sings and so I find myself looking at his eyelids and thinking about how soft-looking and pretty they are, and how he’s got these amazing blonde eyelashes that are sometimes really hard to see but then they catch the light and it’s almost startling the way they fan so perfectly against the tops of his cheeks. I would tell him, this freckle is perfect and this freckle is perfect and this freckle is a little funny-shaped but I like that about it because it adds character and this freckle is perfect. I would tell him how much I adore his bone structure because his eyes are set a little deep and that makes him look perpetually just a bit concerned, even when he’s in a cheerful mood. He can be happy and grinning and he will still look slightly worried just around the eyes, and I dig that because it gives him this quality, this aura that makes you want to hug him constantly. The edge of his jaw, right where his head connects to his neck, is this perfect curve - square but not sharp, exactly round enough - with a hollow just underneath that calls out for you to trace it with your fingertips. And he’s got this gorgeous rust-colored beard with every shade of copper and gold and it’s always just long enough for you to appreciate all the colors but short enough that it doesn’t obscure his face. It’s not too thick and doesn’t insist on your attention. It’s just there, hanging out around his cheeks and chin like it just sort of wandered up one day and decided to stick around and be awesome for a while because hey, why the hell not? No promises though. If there was some way for a beard to be entirely nonchalant, then that is what I would call Ed’s. And I would tell him that I love his see-through eyebrows because it’s like his face has a secret that it will only show you when you’re very close to him. 

It sounds like the kind of thing that you can’t think very casually about someone, but this is how I think it. I see Ed, and I think his face is a remarkable face, a beautiful one, attractive and desirable, and it’s not something that I’ve had to work at thinking, or that I’ve had to justify to myself. I haven’t convinced myself I like his face simply because I like his music and his personality. I like his face because I like his face. And I like his other parts for the same reason. (Don’t get me started on his legs.) I saw him and I liked him and I see pictures of him every day and every day I think he’s beautiful but it’s no big deal; it’s just the truth. But it’s one of those true things that I have a hard time saying. 

You said “he will never see it and he will never believe it” like the reason Ed Sheeran will never think of himself as beautiful is because he doesn’t know other people think of him that way, and that makes me feel guilty for being one of those people and never saying it out loud. So this is me saying it, as close to out loud as I will probably ever get. 

As far as him not seeing it… well, maybe it would be better if he didn’t, because I still feel like it might come across as creepy from a person who doesn’t know him very well. But I think that Ed sees more than we maybe give him credit for, and so if he does ever stumble upon your message, he will know that for whatever it is worth, there are at least two of us here who do like seeing his face. :)

anonymous asked:

Hi! I was hoping you could write a skimmons fic where Skye and Jemma are making out in Skye's bedroom, and Skye's mother, May catches them when telling them dinner's ready, and Jemma and Skye have to endure a incredibly awkward dinner with May and Coulson because they weren't aware of the romantic nature of Jemma and Skye's relationship.(High School AU) Thanks for your time, and have a nice day!

I hope that you have a nice day anon!

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