side tilt

Meta Post: How did Shiro get his scar?

So a few days ago I did a post about Shiro’s prosthetic arm and the response was amazing! Many of you also showed interest in me doing one on Shiro’s scar as well, so here we are. This one took me a lot longer to make because it’s not as cut-and-dry as the arm. There’s a lot of variables and speculation. We can’t really know for sure what DID happen, but we can most likely deduce what DIDN’T happen. (WARNING–I’m going to discuss some graphic stuff, blood/gore/injuries, etc. So be aware.)

In this post we’ll go through the possibilities and see which ones are the most likely to occur. There will be one numbered point per general option, and I will narrow them down to the ones I think could happen. I would love for you to share your thoughts on the matter! At one point most of us, myself included, assumed Shiro got the scar on his face during battle, so this brings us to the first option:

1. The scar is the result of a sword or other blade swipe during battle

Let’s take a look at what would have to happen for this option to be the case. There’s an easy way to visualize this in 10 seconds or less.

Keep reading

;; spock&uhura → smooches 💋 2/?

   ↳ Uhura: Are you sure you don’t want me to go instead?
      Spock: That would be highly illogical as I am already outfitted—
      Uhura: Spock, I was kidding.  

anonymous asked:

Oh more Mama Blue™ and Langst pls

You got it my lovely anon! ;3
Part two coming your way! :D
Warm. As he slowly slipped back into consciousness, he realized how warm and safe he felt. He was lying on something soft, but firm and almost a little cushy. A soft vibration was emitting from the source of the warmth, a quiet, soothing sound that even without opening his eyes made him feel encased in a motherly protection. He groaned quietly at the throbbing pain that ran across his body, his brain registering his injuries and helpfully reminding him of the giant fucking laser beam that had knocked him out.
Someone shushed him gently, a hand running through his hair and a soft, hummed tune allowed him to relax even though he didn’t remember tensing up in the first place. Cracking open his eyes, he blinked a few times before he got used to the dim light of Blue’s cockpit, which looked like a scene from a horror movie his older brother adored watching. Blood smeared across the floor, like someone had skidded through it, most of it splattered on the seat in front of him. Oh, he was on the ground, up against the dashboard. Had he fallen out of his chair somehow? He shifted slightly, registering the fact that his wounds were bandaged up and tended to already, the first aid kit a short distance to his side, opened with the insides looking as if someone had rustled through it in a near panic.
“Are you awake, my Paladin?” His pillow asked, and he jolted, eyes drifting up to a face that looked so similar to his mother he almost called her name, but the gold eyes and blue hair threw him off. “Blue?” He croaked out instead, and the humanized Lion smiled at him with a pleased purr. He attempted to get up, realizing he was lying on her collarbone, but she huffed and pushed him back down, allowing his head to pillow on her chest instead. Yup, same size as his mother. Lance didn’t know exactly why that particular memory popped up, but he figured it was probably just a concussion.
“You should not move around too much, my Paladin. Your injuries might worsen if you do.” Blue reprimanded him lightly, and it reminded Lance of his older sister Leia, who always worried and panicked over injuries to her little siblings. “What about you?” He coughed out, Blue raising an eyebrow in return questioningly.
“That laser hit you pretty bad, dude. You definitely didn’t come out of that unscratched and not busted up somehow.” He explained, voice much stronger now. It was rough and raw from screaming when the beam hit, and the pain of being electrocuted. Pidge’s Bayard had nothing on that laser. Blue laughed wryly. “No, I do have multiple parts in need of repair, but I am not as fragile bodied as you humans. You need to heal first, before I tend to my own malfunctions.” She ran her fingers through his hair again, the action comforting in the dark and barely lit room.
“How bad is the damage?” He asked, tilting his head so she could rub at a small ache. “Well for one problem, my rockets are unable to fire due to damaged wiring from the electrocution, which means we aren’t flying anytime soon. I also have several dents from crashing, and most systems are down, including temperature regulation and communications, again from the electromagnetic radiation in the beam. I don’t know how long it will take, but I’ve already started fixing the communications line. Hopefully we can contact my sisters and their Paladins to retrieve us.” Blue listed off, counting from her slim fingers.
Lance huffed bitterly. “If they even notice we’re gone. I mean, you maybe, but me? Ha, who needs Lance around anyways?” Blue’s eyes narrowed. “You are very much needed on the team, Lance. While I am highly displeased at the way your fellow Paladins have been treating you, I’ve always wanted you to know that you are special in your own way, and you are important to the team. If your human friends cannot see this, then perhaps it is their vision that is the problem.” She was practically growling at this point, and Lance patted her leg soothingly. “So, you’re saying they’re blind? Ha, thanks Blue. That… That does help a bit. Glad to know at least your on my side…”
She hmphed and tilted her nose up slightly. “As if I could find a Paladin of higher quality than you. You are my precious little cub and anyone who hurts you deserves an ice beam to the reproductive regions.” She stated haughtily, and Lance burst into laughter. His laughter induced her own giggles, and they sat there on the floor, just enjoying the happy, bubbly feeling in their chests.
……..anyone thinking part 3? ;3

Edit: there’s even more to enjoy! ;3

anonymous asked:

In ur opinion what r Jensen and Misha's best angles

i’m not an expert on misha’s appearance and i don’t want to piss off the misha stans so i’m only gonna answer about jensen and probably piss off the jensen stans

this is his best angle

shot toward his left side, with his head either angled a little bit down (first gif) or a little bit up (second gif)

with jensen, it’s all about his nose, ears and jaw.

if u get him head-on, his ears pull focus away from his face. (i mean, they’re cute as shit, but u get what i mean.)

when it’s shot toward his right side with his head tilted up, his nose looks extra thin and pointy, also pulling a bit too much focus. however, this is definitely the best angle for that magic jawline and with making his chin look more defined. 

shots toward his right side also make him look 10x more masculine than he does from his left. it’s because of the way his nose curves. from his left, it looks like it curves up in a cute little point. from his right, it looks like it curves down. i prefer the more feminine angle, and it seems spn does, too, because most shots are toward his left. (go watch the episode misha directed. every fuckin shot of dean is toward his left side. same, misha. same.)

evidenced most obviously in his selfies, jensen ackles……has no chin. or a lot of chins. it’s hard to tell which. in selfie angles, his face kind of just disappears into his neck and makes it look like he doesn’t have a jawline. now, i’m all about a pudgy chin and soft jaw, but i’d prefer jensen’s face not to bleed into his neck like in these selfies. 

his jawline is a mystery even to me and is really more dependent on how he moves his face than what angle the camera is. however, there is obviously a major difference between this

where he has no defined jawline whatsoever and looks very soft

and this

which u can cut a loaf of bread with. 

i think the reason why i’m so drawn to jensen’s face is because, to me, it looks completely different from every goddamn angle. he could move his face half an inch to the left and i’d gasp in shock at how different he looks. i’d say he doesn’t really have a bad angle, but i definitely prefer some of his angles over others. 

(all gifs are from season 9 to avoid a major difference in age or haircut.)


Here is another drabble. This one is a little more closely linked to the show, but still different–obviously.

This is like Ski Lodge never happened–Lucas never formally “chose” Riley, but Maya still decided she didn’t like them anymore.

I also aged them up a little bit.

The feeling I thought was set in stone

It slips through my fingers

Trying hard to let go

Lucas sits in Mr. Matthew’s class staring at the back of Maya’s head. He couldn’t even tell you what they were learning today which in hindsight was pretty pathetic. How lost can you be by the back of someone’s head that you couldn’t even pay attention class?

By the time the class ends and definitely when the day ends, he realizes he had been on autopilot almost all day. Too enveloped in the thoughts that were Maya Hunter.

He should have known she was never going to let him pick her. She is too loyal, too kind and the head of Riley Committee.

He should have known the second junior year started.She carefully chose her seat at the beginning of the year to sit in front of Riley instead of him. The first day she sauntered on in with an air of beauty and rebellion and stuttered at the open seat in front of him. He stupidly thought if she plopped down in front than she would choose him over Riley then somehow that would prove something to him–that just maybe they could make it work.

But as always, she changed direction so subtly that he was sure no one would notice that she even considered him, but he noticed it.

And it made him refuse to give up the sliver of hope he still held for his blonde beauty.

But then Riley is telling her she has changed and Maya is listening to her. Lucas could feel himself losing her as though she was a rope that no matter how tight he held on, it still slipped through fingers so quickly that it left burning scars.

He couldn’t bring himself to be mad at Riley because she was trying to find a quick fix to a triangle that was never much more than a straight line rushing right into the short stack of pancakes that had come crashing into his life when he was thirteen years old.

Now as a junior in high school, it had been going on too long and to try to change it would just lead to destruction. His group of friends was falling apart at the thought of Maya and Riley no longer being Riley and Maya.

He saw the glares Farkle sent him when he spent too long staring as Maya walked through the cafeteria.

The way Zay shakes his head at him knowingly when Maya speaks of Josh and Lucas finds any reason to leave the room.

Even Smackle had picked up on it and the sadness that she exuded towards him made him uncomfortable and fidgety. Smackle picked up on more secrets that brought the group down more than anyone else. Lucas was all but positive she knew of Zay’s crush on her and had known for quite some time.

Loving Maya and wanting her was going to hurt more people than it would make him happy. So he tried so hard to push it away, but then she was smiling at him and pulling him close to her and he holds his breath to not breathe her in.

He is going to lose her and he was a masochist for prolonging it as long as he has.

Because then–she is saying she doesn’t like him like that anymore. She liked him because Riley did and Lucas wasn’t one to cry out in anger, but he came close in that moment. Because there was absolutely no way that they could go through the shit they did and for her to feel nothing for him. The lingering looks, the holding of each other and the secret touches no one knew about it.

She thought she wasn’t going to be picked so she pushed him away before he hurt both her and Riley.

So that’s where they are at. Him staring at the back of her head while Riley thinks now they are together and maybe they are. He doesn’t even know anymore and it doesn’t even bother him when Riley starts to stare at Farkle’s head just like he did Maya.

He is pretty sure she doesn’t even know she is doing it.

They sit in Topanga’s both acting like they are happy and not falling apart and losing each other as friends in the process when she finally snaps.

“What is your problem?” Riley asked and he looked up from his homework. He was so in tuned in his world of self-loathing he didn’t even realize it was just them there.

“I don’t have a problem.” He muttered.

She scoffed an angry breath he didn’t even know she could produce. But she did and it was towards him.

“You have had a problem for months, Lucas.” Her tone begins to soften, away from angry girlfriend to worried best friend, “I am your best friend, Lucas. Talk to me.”

He knows whatever he says will break them even if it doesn’t break her, but he has to say it to someone or he might just lose his mind.

So after moments of tense filled silence, he says sadly. “She stopped liking me, Riles. It doesn’t mean I stopped liking her.”

Riley breathes an oh like, of course, that’s it. She doesn’t elaborate and neither does he. They both sit together in their misery, staring at each other as though begging the other to fix them when Maya walks in. Riley’s eyes jump over to Maya with a terrifying precision and Lucas can’t tell if Riley looks hurt or relieved.  

It is awkward and confusing and Maya looks at Lucas like he has just ruined everything in the world. Farkle comes bouncing in with his usual energy, mid-sentence of telling Maya something when he finally reads the fucking room.

“What I miss?” He asks so genuinely that Riley gives him a soft smile which Farkle gladly returns.

Lucas can’t help but think that Riley was going to be just fine. He, on the other hand, probably dead at the hands of the girl he loves.

Riley’s eyes are back on him and her eyes look glazed over. He wonders if she just realized how much time she wasted on the idea of him instead of being with Farkle who had always been her knight in shining armor. How much hurt Maya had gone through at their own stubbornness.

It stays quiet and sad and it doesn’t get better.

For a long time, it just stays worse.  

There is a swelling storm

And I’m caught up in the middle of it all

And it takes control

Of the person that I thought I was

The boy I used to know

But there is a light

In the dark

And I feel its warmth

In my hands

In my heart

Why can’t I hold on

It comes and goes in waves

It always does

It always does

We watch as our young hearts fade

Into the flood

Into the flood


And freedom

And falling

The feeling I thought was set in stone

It slips through my fingers

Trying hard to let go

It comes and goes in waves

It comes and goes in waves

And carries us away

Through the wind

Down to the place we used to lay when we were kids

Memories of a stolen place

Caught in the silence

An echo lost in space

It comes and goes in waves

It always does

It always does

We watch as our young hearts fade

Into the flood

Into the flood

And freedom

And falling

The feeling I thought was set in stone

It slips through my fingers

Trying hard to let go

It comes and goes in waves

It comes and goes in waves

And carries us away

I watched my world youth disappear in front of my eyes

Moments of magic and wonder

It seems so hard to find

Is it ever coming back again

Is it ever coming back again

Take me back to the feeling when

Everything was left to find

It comes and goes in waves

It always does

It always does

And freedom

And falling

The feeling I thought was set in stone

It slips through my fingers

Trying hard to let go

It comes and goes in waves

It comes and goes in waves

And carries us away

Sterek A-Z Challenge: one word prompts

Week 17: Q - Quiet

Stiles is boundless, unrestrained energy that vibrates at a frequency beyond the comprehension of the human mind. Never still, always alive. Derek is the serenity of a glassy river winding through an endless forest that culminates in the deafening roar of a waterfall. Power hidden under a deceptive calm.

Derek and Stiles are two halves of a whole. Yin and yang. Complete opposites in every way, but so similar and unbalanced without the other.

Kira doesn’t know how she didn’t see them before.

After years of gruelling training and struggling to survive in the middle of the desert, Kira had found her center. One that did not involve Beacon Hills or the McCall pack. One that definitely did not include Scott. So Kira had gone home to New York to live with her parents and finish high school.

Running into Derek and Stiles had been an accident, literally. It involved spilled coffee, a ruined paper, and tears, but happy ones.

Stiles had been nearing the end of his third year of college, and Derek had been Derek. He lurked, he brooded, and oddly enough, greeted Kira with an enormous bear hug that she had not been prepared for. Stiles had laughed himself silly and immediately joined in, pouncing on Derek’s back and wrapping his arms around Kira as well.

It had taken Kira four months to see it. Them.

Their relationship was clearly not new, but nothing was different. They acted and reacted as they always had. Stiles, cleverness and sarcasm, antagonized, and Derek, restrained power and control, snapped.

How was she supposed to have known? They never told her. Did they not trust her?

Under the shade of a large tree, Kira tucked her knees up to her chest and hugged them as she watched Derek and Stiles play in the park. Now that she knew, it was obvious. It hadn’t been anything she’d ever given any serious consideration before.

Stiles sprinted across the grassy, sprawling lawn of Central Park with Derek bounding along behind him, nipping at his heels, tongue hanging out. Derek lunged, and at the last minute, Stiles dodged the wolf, all the while, cackling madly.

“They’re so cute,” Kira mumbled to herself, hiding a small smile behind her knees as Stiles and Derek tumbled across the grass in a mess of flailing limbs and dark fur when Derek finally caught the spastic human.

Derek pinned Stiles to the ground and proceeded to lave him with wet, messy tongue kisses. Stiles shrieked, and several onlookers appeared somewhat concerned.

Eventually, red-faced and panting, Stiles flopped down in the shade with Kira, and Derek trotted over, somehow appearing smug, even as a wolf. Stiles dragged Derek down to use as a particularly fluffy pillow.

It wasn’t until later, after Derek had shifted back and changed into a pair of jeans and a tank top, that Kira noticed their hands intertwined and wondered how many times she had ignored the blatant signs before.

Stiles babbled away, his only free hand waving about, and Derek smiled indulgently, listening to every word.

“I’m happy for both of you,” Kira suddenly said, surprising herself with the outburst.

“Huh?” Stiles hand fell back down to his side, and he tilted his head to the side in an action so wolf-like, Kira giggled. Derek squeezed Stiles’ hand, and Stiles glanced down, eyes widening before he grinned back at Kira. “Oh… Thanks!”

Derek nodded, always the quiet presence of calm to Stiles’ chaos.

Kira beamed and threw herself at them, hugging them around the middle. Maybe she did still have a pack.

Read to Me (Peter x reader)

Hey babes! I hope your day is going well, I’m actually about to start a big test so rip me. This was requested by an anon, and I hope where ever you may be, that the fluffiness brings a smile to your face. I love you all, and thank you for sticking around here. xoxo 

Request: A fluffy Peter X Reader where the reader reads a mythology book (of your choice) to Peter on a rainy night in his room and he’s just in her lap, cuddling and kissing and then they both fall asleep together.

Warnings: None


The rain pattered on the window pane, the streaks of water glowing against the moonlight. You were sitting on Peter’s bed, your back against the headboard. He head was laying in your lap, and he was looking up at you in complete awe. 

The two of you had planned to go out to the city tonight, but because of the storm, he decided that it would be best if you both just stayed in. He took you to his room and you scanned over his book shelf, your eye catching a classic book that you loved to read.

As his head was in your lap, you played with his soft, brown locks with one hand while holding the small paperback book to your eye level. You ran your fingers through his hair and moved your hand to cup his face. 

“What?” He looked up at you with that smile that always made you week. 

“Nothing, babe.” You leaned down towards him, and he placed his hand on the back of your neck, bringing you closer to him. He pressed a warm and tender kiss against your lips, sending off fireworks in your head. Every kiss was like the first one. It always felt new, and real. You pulled away and peered into his eyes with your glistening E/C ones. You pecked a kiss on his nose before returning your attention to the book. 

“Come then, put away your sword in its sheath, and let us two go up into my bed so that, lying together in the bed of love, we may then have faith and trust in each other.” Your eyes scanned the words on the page as you read them aloud to Peter. 

“Wait, what are we reading again?” He quirked his eyebrow, earning a dramatic eye roll from you. 

“’The Odyssey’ by Homer.” You couldn’t hold back a smile as you shook your head at him. 

“Ohhh, okay. I got it.” He nodded his head and stared up at you, waiting for you to fill the room again with you soothing voice. You continued to read, but the old script was beginning to tire you. It was lulling you to sleep, as well as your boyfriend. When you put the book down, he didn’t protest. 

Peter lifted himself from your lap and you shifted yourself down, so that your head was resting against his chest. He wrapped his arm around your waist, his thumb slowly drawing up and down your side. You tilted your head towards him and trailed kisses from his jawline to his lips. He smiled against your lips as you gave him a sweet, but passionate kiss. Peter loved the way your lips perfectly fitted to his, and he reveled in your taste, deepening the kiss. You could feel every fiber in your body contract at the sensation. Somehow this boy managed to make your heart explode with the smallest things. 

You pulled away, kissing him on the cheek before placing your head next to his heart. His heartbeat was steady like a drum. 

He whispered against your hair. “God, I love you, F/N L/N.” Peter gently kissed the top of your head, closing his eyes. 

“Mmm, I love you more, Peter Parker.” Your eyelids were heavy as your smirked against his chest. He didn’t argue against you on it. Usually, he would tell you that he loved you most, but you never let him win that battle. But tonight, he didn’t say anything and you realized he was completely passed out. 

You kissed his chest and curled closer to him, letting the drowsiness drag you down into sleep. 

There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep.

- from “The Odyssey” by Homer

I hoped you liked this cute little one shot that was requested by an anon. I really loved writing this, fluff is literally my shit. I can’t wait to go home and finish up the next chapter of “There”! I hope you all have a lovely day, I’m so grateful for you all. xoxo



@barely-emily @purplekitten30 @mcfuccfairy @fandomlover2001 @elegantnightmareshiro @buckysplumfondler @arabellaaurorabarnes @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes @badassbaker  @life-is-fuucked  @elwenia 


Plot: you ignore your bias after a fight and he tries to get you to forgive him.

Genre: Fluff

word count: 1,018


I let out a frustrated sigh as i stormed back into my bedroom. I flopped down onto my bed, arms and legs outstretched, staring at the blank, white ceiling, my head full of thoughts about what happened only minutes before. It was a stupid fight, really, but he had said some things that I couldn’t forget so easily.

I was so deep in my thoughts i didn’t hear the door open and someone creep across the room to my bed. I turned my head when i felt the bed dip, and saw him coming closer to me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I really didn’t mean anything I said back there, I was just stressed and took out my frustration on you. I hope you can forgive me.” I turned around and stepped out of the bed, ignoring him.

“I’ll go make dinner,” I said, not even turning to look at him. I walked into the kitchen getting out ingredients and supplies to make his favorite dish. Even though I was mad at him, I still loved him. I heard the patter of footsteps running down the hall, coming towards the kitchen, stopping behind me.

“I can help,” he said, “Just tell me what to do.”

“Just wash and cut those vegetables over there,” I said, still refusing to look at him. I was afraid that when I looked at him all my resolve would crumble and I would forgive him instantly. He immediately started getting to work doing his best to do what I had told him to.  I stole a glance over at him when I was sure he wouldn’t notice, and saw his face in a cute pout of concentration, his eyes focused on the knife, making sure he cut the vegetables in even pieces. As we were moving around the kitchen he kept stopping by me to kiss my cheek or nose or anywhere he could reach, all the while smiling even though I would push him away. When he was finished cutting the vegetables he came over to me and circled his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder.

“I’m finished,” he said in a cute voice, then gave me a quick peck on my cheek, knowing I couldn’t resist his aegyo. I tried to remove his arms from my waist but he just hugged me tighter to him.”I’m not letting you go,” he said, still in his aegyo voice.

“I have to turn off the stove before the food burns,” I said, “Please let go.”

“No,” he stated, refusing to release his tight grip on me. I started walking to the other side of the kitchen to turn off the stove with him still wrapped around me like a koala bear.

“Can you please set the table?” I asked him, finally getting rid of his tight grip around me, even though it left me feeling a little cold without his warmth.

Once we started eating, he began to compliment me over everything. “Ah, this tastes so good!” “Thank you so much for cooking tonight!” “These were cooked perfectly!” “You’re always so pretty!” I looked down at what i was wearing seeing myself dressed in an old pair of sweatpants, one of his shirts that was too big on me, my hair up a messy bun, and no makeup on my face.

I scoffed glancing up at him seeing a beautiful smile on his face. “Seriously?”

“Of course!” he replied, with the same gorgeous smile.

We continued to eat, him still showering me with compliments. I was slowly losing my resolve and had forgiven him, but I enjoyed this cute side of him.

He picked up a piece of food and brought it across the table towards my mouth. “Ahh,” he demonstrated, opening his mouth as if he was going to take a bite of food. I refused to open my mouth still not wanting to give into his cute antics, but after a few failed attempts, he managed to feed me, giggling cutely every time he placed a piece of food in my mouth.

When we finished eating, he helped me clear the table and wash the dishes, all the while talking about anything and everything and telling me how much he loved me. Once we were done he suggested we watch something, so we went to the living room and he put on my favorite movie. He sat down on the couch and pulled me towards him wrapping his body around me like a warm blanket. He kept peppering kisses all over my face and neck, whispering sweet nothings into my ear, making it hard to focus on the movie. After a little while he finally asked in a quiet, timid voice, “Have you forgiven me yet?”

I smiled turning to look straight into his eyes, “I forgave you awhile ago, I just like seeing this cute side of you,” I said, watching as a wave of relief washed over his face.

“You scared me,” he said pouting. “Ah, I was so scared,” he whined, throwing his head back.

 You put your hands on either side of his face, tilting his head so you could look into his eyes, the same eyes you fell in love with. “I’m sorry,” you said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Hey, since you scared me like that, I deserve a proper one right here,” he exclaimed, bringing his index finger up to his lips, pressing them softly and closing his eyes. I grabbed his wrist to bring his hand away from his face, and leant down closing my eyes as well, pressing a passionate kiss to his lips. I made sure to pour all my love for him into the kiss to assure him that he was forgiven.

When we finally pulled away, he peered down at me mischievously. He began tickling me all over, making tears well up in my eyes from laughing and causing me to yell for him to stop.

“This is what you get for worrying me like that,” he responded, continuing to tickle me.


Please send in requests!

And to the anon who requested this, I hope you enjoy! I’m not really good at writing or fluff but I tried my best. Constructive feedback and criticism is always welcome.

Prologue [Beyond the Sunrise, LMMxReader]

Summary:  Mixed up orders leads to a new and unexpected person in your life.

Word Count: 2,159

Warnings: None (a slow burn, but are you guys really surprised?)

Authors notes:  We are SO excited to share this with you guys, this universe is something we had so much fun creating and we hope you enjoy it as much as us! ❤ 

askbox | masterlist | next chapter

The neon lights and upbeat sixties doo-wop songs were the furthest things Lin wanted in his presence that night. Still, the Salt and Pepper Diner was the only place with decent food open this late into the night.

There was the added benefit that it was always empty when he found himself in. No soul in their right mind purposefully wandered into this place at three in the morning on a school day.

Except for him, of course.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Chocobros reactions to their girlfriend saying 'I love you' first while cuddling them staring into their eyes? I've had a very hard week and need something fluffy and cute haha, I love your writing <3

I’m so sorry this took so long! I made it a little more lengthy than most drabbles, I hope this makes up for it. “φʕ•ᴥ•oʔ



Rainy day, rainy day, rainy day.

Spring in Insomnia always meant rain, so much rain, it made everything so grey and sleepy like. Which currently led to your predicament of you and Noctis currently curled up on your couch, both tucked up in a large blanket.

It wasn’t chilly, yet the two of you both enjoyed being bundled under a blanket together sharing heat. The man was spooning you from behind as you tried finding something to watch on Netflix, but the two of you had watched almost everything and the list wouldn’t update for another week.

“Just throw on whatever.” You stated to the question Noctis was about to ask, having to stifle a giggle, as you heard him pout. Rolling over to face the man, so you could see the adorable pout on his face, it was one of the cute reactions he saved just for you.

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” You asked, wrapping your legs around his, as he sat down the remote on the coffee table beside your take out boxes.

Noctis scoffed, as he pulled you closer, scooting down further on the couch to bury his head into your neck. Nuzzling you warmly, as you stroked his hair, hearing the man began to doze off, you knew for a fact that you were to follow him shortly as you often did. You joked that the Prince often sapped you like a battery, and made you doze as much as him.

Keep reading

Lucas Baker x Deaf!Reader- Welcome to the family

I would recommend listening to this: whilst reading.




Your fingers skimmed across the hallway walls, thin layers of dust and dirt sticking to the moisture on your fingertips. The paint was peeling, courtesy of the heavy paintwork and the black tar substance ruined the decor. You couldn’t help but sympathise with the ruined house; it looked old and worn, similar to how you felt at that current moment.

A bitter smile stretched over your lips.

Your body was battered, scraped and bruised. Large handprints marked your sides and the staples in your arm itched. You were sure that it was infected despite the large quantities of ‘medicine’ you had been spraying yourself with. Your back wasn’t in much better shape as there was a fair share of large cuts on your back from the deformities in the basement. It wasn’t your fault that you were unable to hear them approaching.

This was hell in its finest form and all because your friends had ditched you during the exploration of the legendary ‘Baker’s swamp’. It had to be Felix’s idea. Mark and Jack were undoubtedly tempted by him, otherwise, they’d never abandon you by yourself. They probably thought leaving deaf and defenceless _____ by themselves would be funny. They probably expected to see you tomorrow and have a good laugh. They probably thought it was funny.

Yeah, so funny.

They sure hadn’t expected that you would be hunted down by a series of cannibals, monsters and maniacs with something growing inside of their bodies. And they sure hadn’t expected that you of all people would have to kill these maniacs or deal with having to be force-fed human flesh. The Mother, Marguerite, didn’t seem to appreciate your lack of cooperation or the supposed disregarding of her yelling. It just didn’t seem to click that you couldn’t hear her.

Sure, you could read lips but when the woman was turning and frantically moving, your vision was askew and it was too difficult. You were glad that she wasn’t a problem anymore.

The Father, though- he was smart. He had gathered you couldn’t hear after you hadn’t shouted out against his abuse. You tried to plead but he laughed at your attempt. He had claimed that you would be an easy meal- an easy kill.

His remaining legs proved those statements wrong.

The two residual family members of the Bakers were the Grandmother, whom you had bumped into on multiple occasions, and the son, Lucas (excluding Zoe, who kept her presence known with post-it notes).

Granny seemed very limp. You had a sneaking suspicion that the ‘fungus’ latching onto the Baker family was something to do with her, but another part of you wanted to remove the old lady from this hellish place. She seemed so weak, so innocent. Lucas though, he seemed more like the rough and dirty type. He could probably sneak up behind you and break your neck within an instant. You were surprised he hadn’t done it yet. He hadn’t really made much of an appearance beside his short cameo at the family ‘feast’, where Daddy had cut his arm off.

You felt sick thinking about the vomit-inducing image.

And Lucas had only appeared briefly in the last few minutes after you had arrived back at Zoe’s trailer with the arm needed for the serum. And sure, you could leave without Zoe, but that would be wrong of you as a human being. There was a drawback, though. Lucas had learnt that Zoe was trying to escape and had captured and imprisoned her. Now you were going out of your way for a complete stranger and for the key cards to ensure your escape.

You were so going to die.

Slowing your footsteps, you stooped at the snake door as it stood in front of you dauntingly. It seemed to burn an image into your mind, the key held within your sweaty palm. This was the door to Lucas’ room. In a normal instance, you would stop and walk away as it was someone’s room. Someone’s privacy. But you had already broken into Granny’s room and Zoe’s life was on the line.

A deep breath and you were in.

The room was surprisingly nice and untainted in comparison to the rest of the house. There was a childish purple and green colour scheme and a stack of cube-shaped pillows were situated in the centre of the room. Three trophies stood on the far left of the room, held above a single bed with an oak shelf. From where you stood, the engraving promoted a mechanical contest. Another sat next to the bed, its shape used to make a lamp.


A journal lay open on a nearby desk.

The words were written in dried ink, the entries obviously very old from the language used. The first page was sort-of endearing. Obviously, before the fungus had entered the household, the Bakers were good people and had a happy family. There had been Jack, Marguerite, Granny, Lucas and Zoe. From the first entry, Lucas obviously had a good relationship with Marguerite, his mother having bought him a puzzle and accompanied him to the Doctor’s with no violence involved. The remaining entries…

Not so endearing.

Lucas really stretched what could be described as ‘childish innocence’. Despite the Oliver child being a bully, the kid didn’t deserve to starve to death in Lucas’ attic. And how did his parents not know? Maybe the Bakers had always been rather twisted. Your eyes froze over the last word, your thoughts thrown to the wind, and the muscles in your back tensed up. A breath of hot air fanned over your neck. The hairs stood up as another breath was exhaled over the delicate flesh.


No. No. No-

With utter fluency, you flipped through the letters and hoped that person behind you wouldn’t see through your act. For someone deaf, you really did lack the other ‘enhanced senses’. Hoping that your unintentional gulp was quiet, you placed the letters down on the desk and braced yourself against the wood. You could feel the presence of someone still lingering behind you, the burning sensation of the loaded gun in your front pocket causing your fingers to twitch cautiously.

A hand slammed down beside your arms and a tall body pressed against your back instantly. Your breath quickened at the uneasy contact and another hand grabbed your forearm, forcing your body to turn in a jerky motion to face your captor. Full-blown, grey eyes bore down at you as the familiar features of Lucas Baker came into view. The twenty-something-year-old man seemed to laugh either at your surprised expression or the fact you hadn’t noticed his presence earlier.

‘____, _____, _____,’ he tutted. Your eyes focused solely on his mouth as the eldest of the Baker children grinned.

‘Don’t ya know that breaking into someone’s room is an invasion of privacy!’ Lucas laughed again, his eyes crinkling at the sides and his grip loosened on your arm. ‘And breaking into a boy’s room- MY room. Well, ain’t you somethin’?’ Lucas stepped back, his arms falling to his sides.

You took a breath of stale air, your eyes scanning Lucas’ left arm warily, worried that it may fall off suddenly. Glancing back up to his face, you found that Lucas was watching you with an unexplainable expression. It looked almost sadistic with his twisted smile. You rose a hand and trailed your index finger from the tip of your thumb and across your palm.


His smile fell.

‘I’m pretty sure you know what I said, ___.’ He took a threatening step forward and you tried to form an escape route away from the threatening character. ‘I know that you can read lips, otherwise, how would you have gotten so far?’ Lucas bent down to your height and his eyes met yours. ‘Just cause you’re deaf doesn’t mean we can’t have a party, does it?’

The glimmer of sadistic joy in his eyes caused a kick of adrenaline to course through your veins. You pushed the man back and turned to run out of the room, probably to be killed by a random goop monster wandering about. Lucas’ quick hands prevented this. Your body was drawn back, your form now chest to chest with the maniacal inventor. His body language held hostility and a little pride from his fast impulse.

‘Nuh-uh-uh!’ Lucas waved a finger in front of your face. ‘That ain’t nice, ___. I invited you to a party and that makes me the host!’ He cackled and hooked his fingers through your own. ‘Now, I expect you to solve the invitation and come join everyone waiting for you~ And being the gracious host I am, I’ll help you!’

You took a moment to catch up with Lucas’ fast speech and felt his fingers squeeze your hand roughly. You attempted to tug away from his grasp, shocked at Lucas’ words, but his hold only tightened further. The man scowled at your actions and pulled you closer to his side, Lucas’ spare hand tilting your head up despite your resisting muscles.

‘Hey, I’m tryin’ to be nice ___. If Eveline finds out about this,’ he glanced at your entwined hands, ‘we’re both dead.’ Lucas kept your gaze until you nodded timidly, his lips stretching into an easy grin and nodded back.

‘Good. Now don’t keep our guests waiting~’

You remained wary as you backed away from the tall man and began wandering around the bedroom, Lucas trailing behind closely. It was slightly frustrating that he persisted with holding your hand, his grasp not slipping in the slightest despite the dirt and moisture on both of your palms. It became obvious that it was a rather large nuisance when it came to slipping items into your backpack and Lucas seemed to find your struggling amusing, making quips and comments about it. The two or three times you had caught his mouth moving, you sent a glare his way. Those several times almost caused you to have a heart attack from your own actions but Lucas seemed to find them funny.

Surely it was only a matter of time until he killed you or tried to.

And that time arrived fairly fast.

After having to drag Lucas from his room and through the main house, past Zoe’s trailer and through the keycard door (and having Lucas actually help you with an unheard monster), you had arrived at the ‘party building’. Lucas looked rather smug at his glowing decorations.

You weren’t going to deny it.

He would make a good party planner.

‘Looks good, doesn’t it!’ Lucas cackled and you resisted an impulsive eye roll. Lucas was pretty arrogant but had a good sense of humour for a homicidal cannibal. At least he was more human than his parents. Ignoring the random thought, you yanked Lucas up the steps and entered the ‘party room’. To your surprise, there stood a television set and a chair. Looking back at him expectantly, Lucas suddenly looked a cross of sheepish and annoyed.

‘I couldn’t get everything ready, alrigh’?’ He exaggerated and seemed to glower childishly. ‘I was being helpful and forgot!’ You nodded slowly and that seemed to cool Lucas down remarkably. Only a small pout remained present on his face.

You chose to keep walking to divert Lucas’ attention from his failed distraction. There was nothing worse than a grumpy maniac intent on killing you.

As you pushed open the awaiting door, you felt Lucas’ fingers fall from your hand. There was now an emptiness where his hand had been and you twirled round at Lucas’ sudden reconsideration of the hand-holding tactic. Your eyes were met with an empty room, the TV and chair standing out against the bare walls. Lucas had vanished… Or had simply run out of the room if the open front door indicated anything. It was clear that something behind the door had either been too dangerous for him to enter or he had grown sick of ‘assisting’ you. Most likely both.

Well. It appeared that you had to throw on your badass bitch boots.

____’s coming.

Annnnnd that’s how you would have liked to have acted, but after falling over the first trip wire and being caught in an explosion- you were pretty certain that you weren’t a badass bitch. It was lucky that you stocked up on medicine. And it was also lucky that you had stocked up on a motherload of bullets as HOLY FUCK THERE WERE SO MANY MONSTERS. You were sure going through your supplies fast, especially since you couldn’t hear the monsters hunting your ass.

Quite a few of the corpses got a hefty ‘fuck you’ from you and your hands.

It sure would be helpful if Lucas came back just so that he could alert you of passing monsters. The number of times you had backed into a monster or turned a corner to be met with a pointed maw was beginning to become uncountable. It would also be great to have some proper human contact again, unlike the human contact you had shared with Daddy and Momma- which had been mostly stabbing and shooting. Lucas had been the only human to actually speak to you and not murder you right off the bat. And he somehow had a decent concept of sign language. Sure, he was about to kill you with all the stupid contraptions he created and releasing the unholy number of goop monsters at you, but he appeared as a somewhat decent human being for at least an hour and a half.

Pouring a bottle of medicine over your torn skin, you flexed your fingers and watched as the skin melded together. The blood washed off with the cut and made you feel a little more energetic than your previous sluggish nature. Now that you had sorted out your items, killed the monsters hunting you down and had recorded your findings in another tape recorder, you began walking back to the steel door within the storage room. In fact, Lucas had appeared within the sealed off room, spouting random series of codes for the panel on the far right. Any human could tell he was bluffing, but something told you to go along with his childishness. He found entertainment as you typed in one of the three codes he had mouthed. It had been wrong and you could have been killed by swinging iron polls, but Lucas had grinned and walked away happily.

That weird, homicidal genius.

Approaching the steel contraption, you typed in the right code 1408 and pushed against the door. You felt a faint shock and pulled away, a projection appearing through the wired mesh reading ‘Yo, ____, this is a test of skill. No cheating. That shit you’re carrying- get rid of it.’ You silently groaned at the message and dumped all your items into a nearby chest.

Fucking Lucas.

Pushing the door again, the meshed entrance swung open and allowed you to enter. You approached the nearest object- a weird clown animatronic- and picked up the candle. A sudden flicker of the flame caused you to turn around as Lucas shut the door and relocked it.

‘Have a nice day.’

He hesitated for a moment, then abruptly turned and walked away.

You were now stuck in a secluded section of the building with an animatronic and a candle. What is this? A knock-off Five Nights at Freddy’s? You let out a rasped chuckle at your own joke and began to explore. And not even halfway through your exploration, you noticed a cake with three other candles stuck into the frosting. Walking through the doorway, water sprayed you from head to toe, sufficiently causing the candle to go out and the building’s lights to flicker on. You frowned and shook a few droplets of water from your hair.

Great. Now you were wet.

Now wet and without a lit candle, you approached the cake and the lights flickered off, a projection reflecting off the wall. You took your time reading over the letters and groaned at the message. ‘Alright, let’s get to the game! All you gotta do is light the candle and put it on the cake.’ You casually flipped the wall off and the message switched to ‘Language, loser.’

For fucks sakes.

‘There are children in the building- somewhere- I think. I’m not sure anymore.’

That message made an ugly snort escape the back of your throat and you couldn’t help but crack a smile. Lucas really was a peculiar person.

Besides the small distraction, you carried on trying to solve the puzzle and found a door tied with a piece of thick rope. Relighting the candle on the kitchen stove, you set alight the rope and found a series of balloons cascading on top of you. The room was filled with grey balloons and a sense of childish glee caused you to jump into the pile. A series of pops and balloons flying was what happened in the aftermath.

Honestly, you were so goofy.

Wading through the onslaught of balloons, you stopped at a worn door that stood against the far-left wall. On the latch was a lock with five letters spelling out ‘happy’ and appeared to be the only entrance into the room with a water valve.

But what word contained five letters?

… Could Lucas truly be so arrogant as to use his own name?

Twisting the letters to make Lucas, you learnt that your captor wasn’t as arrogant as you believed. But that still left you without the password. Maybe it was something that involved you? Your hair colour? Eyes? Skin? Name? Or-

Slowly turning the letters to form Loser, the padlock undid in your hands. Proud with your fast-thinking, you strode into the water valve room and pulled it from the wall. A satisfied grin stretched across your lips as the lights flickered off and you walked through the small apartment, being drenched once again, and attached the valve to the water pipes. Twisting the valve, you felt the tension increase within the pipes and grinned as you had finally figured the puzzle out.

Relighting the candle with the kitchen stove, you walked back to the cake and slotted the candle on neatly. You waited for a projection to emerge on the wall again and were surprised that instead of a message, you were struck with a heavy force as the cake exploded and threw you back onto the floor. Blinking rapidly, a new message appeared on the wall and you felt your blood freeze up as an object was thrown down.

It looked like a bomb.

Panicking, you didn’t read the message and grabbed the bomb to see there a timer of twenty seconds left. Scanning the room over, you noticed some loose boards in the wall and frantically pulled them away, allowing the bomb to be thrown into the space. Darting out of the room, you crouched near the clown animatronic and felt a vibration when the bomb finally exploded. Standing up, you cautiously approached the room, your eyes widening at the flaming entrance that the bomb had formed.

No way.

Stepping through the torn walls, you coughed at the smoke and carried on through. Turning left at the nearest exit, you stumbled through an open doorway and leant against the non-flaming wall with closed eyes. The sensation of something grazing your cheek caused a prominent squeak to escape your lips and a set of familiar eyes gazed back at you.

Lucas Fucking Baker.

An angry bubble formed within your chest and you shoved Lucas backwards, your fingers moving rapidly to spell out the man’s name in an enraged blur. You also formed a few other phrases that you were happy that Lucas probably didn’t understand. The key feature of these movements was that you were pissed. Not only did this man make you withstand several explosions via tripwires, crates and a cake- he chucked a bomb near you in hopes of killing you. As much as you shouldn’t have been surprised, you were angry that the only person you had properly spoken to was trying to kill you just like the others. You thought maybe Lucas had some moral standards! Especially with his controlling and monstrous parents dead.

You had been through an absolute inferno today and this was the final straw. You didn’t understand why this ‘sudden betrayal’ was causing you to finally break, but it was and you were. You had almost died countless times, you had upright murdered two people and watched an officer’s head be sliced in half with a shovel. Not only that, there were horrific creatures hunting you down! You think this shit would be hard for a normal person? It was worse when you couldn’t hear where someone or something was going to attack you from! You were so sick of this. You wanted to go home, to the place where your friends were and watch some bad movies with a box of pizza. You could feel the tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.

Through your blurry vision, you noted how Lucas was stuck between trying to approach you and drawing further away. Why wasn’t he running? Or a better question;

Why wasn’t he killing you?

With sloppy motions, you asked Lucas through weak sign language and waited patiently for a gun to be held up or a monster to burst through the door. The hooded man seemed to hesitate, running through your movements and trying to figure out what you had asked. You noted that his eyes had widened, surprised at the notion that you were basically asking him to put you out of your misery.

He stepped forward, your eyes trained on his lips as he spoke slowly, ‘I ain’t going to kill you.’

You scoffed and repeated your previous actions with another question.

Why not?

Lucas now stood less than a few inches away from you, his eyes scanning your face closely. The larger man stooped down and caressed the sides of your jaw gently, his fingers holding you in place with a near-bruising pressure when you tried to pull away. You noted that something seemed wrong with Lucas’ eyes. They were no longer grey- but a sickly yellowish black, but you made no comment as he smiled. It was much less malicious than when you first met, making you notice that Lucas’ teeth were surprisingly nice for someone who lived in a decrepit swamp.

‘Because it looks like Eveline needs a new Momma.’

And with that, Lucas pushed his lips against yours’.




Welcome to the family, ____.


fandom: B.A.P
member/reader: Yongguk, female
genre/warning(s): Supernatural!AU, smut, dragonboy!Yongguk
summary: [request] supernatural yongguk smut “i’m a med student who has a huge crush on the hot guy who works at the coffee shop who always gives me free drinks when i’m stressed and calls me princess even though i pretend i think it’s annoying but i’m extremely concerned about him because he always smells like smoke so i always give him lectures about how terrible cigarettes are for you and i may have made a powerpoint which is probably excessive but lung health is extremely important and oops it turns out he’s part-dragon or something hahahaha oops” AU 
length: 8K+

Keep reading

Love Through the Hate

pairing: lams

modern middle/high school AU

request: anon: Please Make more fanfics. If you need inspiration I will freestyle for you. Okay It would be a Lams. John Laurens dad would hurt John because he’s gay. Alex will comfort him. Good Luck I don’t mean to be needy but, It has been a while since you made a fanfic and I am happy with all your new followers (You deserve them) Yeah so have a nice day.

word count: 2015

warnings: homophobia, hitting, does it count as physical abuse? if someone getting hit triggers you please don’t read

a/n: well i’ve been not productive about this blog lately. whoops. IF HOMOPHOBIA OR A FATHER HITTING HIS SON BECAUSE OF HATE IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU DO NOT READ. please, take care of yourself first.



“John, how come you never have me over at your house? Like, for dinner or whatever?”

John fidgets in his seat, picks at a loose thread on his sleeve, drums his fingers on the table, leans back and looks at the clock, does everything he can to avoid answering Alex’s question.


John stares down at his lunch tray.

Alex sighs. “Why won’t you answer my question?”

John looks his boyfriend straight in the eyes. “Many reasons.”

John’s six and asks what the word “gay” means, having heard it at school. His father explodes on a long rant about homosexuality and his hatred of it. John just sits there, feeling uneasy but not wanting to walk out, not wanting his father’s wrath to be turned on him.

John’s eight and he and his parents are at a clothing store, shopping for new jeans for him. Two men walk past, holding hands, and his father voices a very loud complaint about that. He says a word that John tries to forget, but it feels like it’s been branded into his brain forever.

John’s ten and he should be getting crushes on girls, should be finding other girls pretty, but instead, he finds himself admiring the other boys in his gym class, thinking that boy who sits next to him is really cute. He’s supposed to be able to tell his father about everything. But he can’t breathe a word about this. He knows what his dad will say, what his dad will do to him. At least, he’s heard his dad talking about what he’d do to gay people. He’s terrified.

John’s twelve and on the day that the Supreme Court rules that same-sex marriage is going to be legal in all fifty states, he wants to cheer, wants to scream his happiness to the whole world. His dad sits shocked in front of the TV and growls hateful things under his breath at the screen, at the endless flashing pictures of gay and lesbian couples celebrating their victory.

John’s thirteen and he’s checking out the guys instead of the girls and he realizes that he’s gay. He wants to cry when he figures it out. He doesn’t want to change, he just doesn’t want his dad to hurt him.

John’s fourteen and a new guy comes to school. One look, and he’s gone, fallen, but he’s held back by the fear that his father has implemented in him. He gets to be friends with the guy, eventually, and comes out to him. The guy is bi and they start dating and John’s in heaven. He tells the guy everything except any mention of his dad. He’s worried as to how the guy will react.

Alex notices that John is close to crying, with the memories washing over him. “Oh, no, sweetie, don’t cry, please,” he says quietly, hesitantly taking John’s hand in his. “What’s wrong?”

“The reason…” John swallows. “My dad. That’s the reason. He’s–he’s homophobic.”

Alex digests this information.

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” he wonders. John violently shakes his head, and the first few tears escape his eyes.

“It is that bad, Alex, it is…it’s so, so bad.”

“C’mon, surely he’d be fine with just meeting me. You don’t even have to tell him we’re dating.”

John shakes his head again. “No, Alex, you don’t understand! I love you and there’s nothing more that I want than to introduce you to my family. But he hates any mention of gay people, it’s really bad, like, he’s said that he will kill gay people if he has the chance and I’m…I’m scared, I don’t wanna get hurt and I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he finishes, breaking down fully in silent tears.

Alex lets his boyfriend cry, rubbing his back, and he doesn’t bring it up for a month.

John kind of hopes that Alex will drop it, but Alexander Hamilton doesn’t give up easily, if ever.

Alex brings it up at lunch again. “Today, after school, could I come over for dinner to meet your parents?”

John sighs. “We’ve been over this, Alex.”

“Can’t I just meet them? We don’t have to say we’re dating. You can introduce me as your friend. Please?”

I’m gonna regret this.

Alex is doing his puppy dog eyes that John can’t resist. John tries to argue with him for a couple minutes, but Alex wins, and they both text their parents to inform them of the plans.

Nerves are building in John’s stomach for the rest of the day after lunch. Alex meets him outside the front doors after school with a simple “hey” and John feels like he’s going to cry because he doesn’t want Alex to get hurt and it be his fault because he didn’t fight harder.

They’re a block away from John’s house when John abruptly stops.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asks, backtracking.

“I don’t think we should do this.”

“Why not?” Alex asks, and John’s words stick in his throat, all of his good arguments dying before they live.

Alex pulls him off to the side of the sidewalk, tilts his head back, and kisses him, deep and long and full, and John’s gasping for breath when he pulls away. All thoughts have been blanked out of his mind, all he can think about is Alex.

“No, wait, do that again,” John pleads, reaching for Alex, and even though they’ve got somewhere to be, even though there are other people walking past, Alex kisses him again, and they both forget about everything.

It’s been a good fifteen minutes by the time the pair finally starts walking in the direction of John’s house again.

Before they go inside, John stares at his reflection, trying to get rid of the blushing, just-made-out-with-my-boyfriend look. He fixes his hair and takes several deep breaths while Alex does the same.

“Ready?” Alex asks.


John opens the door anyway.

“Hello, boys,” his mother says, smiling down at them. “You are…?”

“Alexander Hamilton, but you can call me Alex, ma’am,” Alex says, sticking his hand out for Mrs. Laurens to shake. She looks surprised for a second, then laughs.

“No need for such stiff formalities,” she tells him, and Alex nods.

“Come on in. You can hang out in John’s room until dinner is ready,” she adds, and Alex and John step inside.

They go to John’s room and sit on his bed and John is kind of embarrassed because, well, they’re on a bed, and the door is closed and locked, but he can’t even kiss Alex for fear of his father.

So they play games on their phones for what seems like forever, competing against each other, laughing at the failures and celebrating the triumphs.

“Boys! Food!”

“Your mom gets it,” Alex mutters as he picks himself up from where he’s sprawled across John’s comforter. John tries not to stare at Alex’s long, lanky figure. He smiles in agreement as the nerves take over again.

Dinner is stiff and awkward. Mr. and Mrs. Laurens keep up a jerky flow of conversation that skips and stutters. John is trying not to give anything away, but he’s so anxious that it’s not working very well. Alex desperately wants to hold John’s hand but can’t.

“So, why are you here? What is your relation to John?” Mr. Laurens asks, turning to Alex. “What was your name again?”

“Alexander Hamilton, sir,” Alex says, sensing that Mr. Laurens wants the stiff formalities that Mrs. Laurens disregarded.


“I’m his b-best friend, sir,” Alex says, stuttering a little on the b. John’s eyes widen in fear that he tries to hide, really not wanting Alex to say boyfriend.

Mr. Laurens stares at Alex. “Alright. Are you sure there’s not something more? You two seem awfully comfortable around each other. You positive you’re not a–”

John stands up.

“What is it, son,” Mr. Laurens asks, sneering.

“Don’t say that word,” John states, his voice trembling. “Do you even know the history of it? Why people say it?”

“I didn’t say anything!” his father protests.

“Oh, you’ve said it plenty of times before,” John snaps back, fire in his veins, fury coursing through him because he has had enough.

“Why are you defending that? Those people are–”

“Because I’m one of them.”

Dead silence.

Mrs. Laurens looks at John and nods, once, signifying that she’s okay with him and that he can go to her if needed.

Alex can’t just sit there. He stands up. “I’m bi. And I’m dating John.”

Mr. Laurens looks like his eyes are about to bulge out of his skull.

He lunges for his son.

What happens next is a blur.

John drops to the ground and tries to hide under the table, Mr. Laurens swings a fist at him, Mrs. Laurens shouts for her husband to stop, Alex stands there, frozen and speechless for once in his life. He created this disaster, and he thinks he might cry.

“Henry! STOP!” Mrs. Laurens screams, and in the sudden quiet that follows, the dull thud that Mr. Laurens’s fist makes as it hits John’s arm is very clear.

Alex can’t breathe.

Mrs. Laurens pulls Mr. Laurens into the kitchen and a shouting match begins.

John crawls out from under the table and stands up. He winces when Alex puts a hand on his arm, and Alex can already see a bruise beginning to form. Alex wants to cry, but John starts to cry first, and Alex pulls his boyfriend close and lets him rest his head on his shoulder. John cries into the fabric of Alex’s shirt, muttering something that Alex can’t hear properly, a mix of swear words and furious ramblings and scared sentence fragments.

“I’m so sorry, John, so sorry,” Alex says over and over, and at some point he starts crying too.

“I…” John hiccups. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Alex whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to John’s forehead. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

Mrs. Laurens comes out of the kitchen. “He’ll leave in half an hour. I’m sticking with you, baby boy.”

John smiles gratefully at his mother but doesn’t move from where he’s cuddled up to Alex. “Thanks, Mom, I didn’t…I knew that would happen. That’s why I didn’t wanna tell him…”

Guilt washes over Alex for about the thousandth time. “I’m so sorry,” he says.

John waves his hand. “He was gonna find out eventually. A secret that big…you can’t keep it for your whole life, which was the other option.”

“And it’s nice to finally meet you,” Mrs. Laurens says. “Be good to John, okay?”

Alex nods. His throat feels like it’s constricting.

“Take him upstairs and help him calm down. Take a shower or something, baby, okay?” she advises.

“Yes, Mom,” John says. He turns to his boyfriend. “C’mon.”

“I feel so bad,” Alex confesses when they’re in John’s room, and he starts crying a bit again. “I made you do that and you got hurt and I will never forgive myself and I’m sorry I don’t think that expresses how regretful I am and I feel horrible I’m so sorry–”

John shuts him up with a kiss.

It’s hesitant and chaste at first, but then Alex deepens the kiss and they fall onto John’s bed, still kissing. John’s oddly cold, and he breaks the kiss to burrow under the blankets. Alex joins him after texting his mom and telling her that he’s spending the night at John’s. It’s a Friday, so that’s okay.

“We’re gonna be okay,” John says directly into Alex’s ear, and Alex repeats it, and both of them say that until they kiss again once more.

“I love you,” they then repeat. Alex brushes his lips over John’s forehead. The other boy is sleepy and soon succumbs to sleep.

Alex watches John fall asleep, and he only sleeps when his eyes close from exhaustion. He watches over him. He doesn’t want anything else to happen.

They love each other even through the hate they face from John’s dad.


likes are appreciated, reblogs are WONDERFUL, comments make my day

Entwined Part 1

Hello, and welcome to my new blog!! This story will contain lots of sexual exploration with tentacles. If that makes you uncomfortable, I suggest you cut and run.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Relationships: Octo!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader is the daughter of a captain of the Royal Navy, stationed in Jamaica during the 1700s. She stumbles across an injured man, hidden away from prying eyes, only to discover he’s more than what he seems.

Warnings: blood, injuries, sex with tentacles (late chapters), sexual exploration (later chapters)

Word Count: 1932

Entwined - Part 1

by mermaidsbluetail

The sea had always called to her. The sound of the waves. The cry of the gulls. The briny smell of salt and seaweed. The curious fish darting through the crystal blue shallows and trails of white foam.

Her family was originally from London, her father a captain in the Royal Navy and sent here to the Caribbean to search out the last of the pirates and make way for the promising sugarcane industry. Her father was a good man, strong and hard working, his men loyal to a fault. Unfortunately, that meant no one would dare approach his beloved daughter, his only child, the “light in his eyes” as he affectionately put it.

Stationed at Port Royal, her father was constantly busy, gone long hours and not returning to their estate overlooking the sea until the wee hours of the morning. The servants did all they could to keep the young miss occupied and safe at home, but having just passed her nineteenth birthday, her sense of independence was strong. Her mother had died of influenza a few years back, leaving her to spend the days exploring the coves and tide pools and palm tree forests of her father’s property alone whenever she could escape her lessons.

Her long curls flowing loosely down her back, her having pulled out the painful myriad of pins, she slowly made her way down the white sands bordering the front of her father’s property. The hem of her petticoats were soaked through, her bare feet sinking into the warm sand. Sighing, she looked back over her shoulder, up the cliff to the large house, the setting sun casting a warm glow over the pale stone and wood. From here she could barely make out the workers tending to the yard.

Looking back over the sea, she smiled as the sun dipped lower into the sky, creating a beautiful rainbow of colors across the wispy clouds in the distance, the remnants of the large storm that had recently battered the island.

Keep reading

#look at this scruffy romanian prince #he is so done with your interview questions #check out that head tilt/side-eye combo #the goddamn lip lick #but then we get the CUTEST LOPSIDED SMILE EVER (◕‿◕✿) #in related news: my sebstan thirst is off the chainnnn

It's fluff, I swear.

A/N: There’s some mention to one of my ask fics (the star gazing & pillow fort one with motorcycle Betty) that may confuse you a little if you didn’t read it

“This is so cliché, I love it.” Veronica’s laugh bubbles out of her mouth as she reaches out to tangle her fingers with her girlfriend’s.

“I figured you would enjoy a classic go karts and mini golfing date.” Betty smiles at Ronnie, “I liked the idea of taking it a little old school for our five year anniversary.” Veronica tugs impatiently on her hand, pulling her towards the entrance.

“You make us sound old when you say it like that, B.” Betty just shrugs as she follows behind her girlfriend, admiring her curves and the perfect swell of her ass. When she finally tears her eyes away from the view, she catches sight of Veronica’s pleased smirk and rolls her eyes playfully, a soft pink tint coating her cheeks.

“We’re only twenty-three Ronnie. There’s plenty of years ahead of us to look forward to.”

“Well,” Veronica turns around, walking backwards as she draws out the word, “What I’m looking forward to right now is beating your ass in go karts and mini golf.” She winks at her before turning back around and tugging Betty up to walk alongside her.

When they reach the kiosk, Veronica starts to dig through her purse before her girlfriend stops her, handing the man the necessary amount of money for karting and mini putt. Ronnie pouts as they walk towards the race track.

“I wanted to pay.” Betty just shakes her head, a fond smile playing on her lips.

“Trust me, you don’t need to pay for anything with the amount of…gifts you gave me. The one I woke up to, the one in the shower, before and after breakfast. Not to mention the amazing antique typewriter you got me.” Veronica’s pout turns into a smug smile as they stand in line.

“I’m surprised you’re even walking straight.” The blush that spreads across Betty’s cheeks earns her a beautiful laugh.

“If we’re being’s taking everything in me to walk normal.” Veronica laughs again, the sound sending Betty’s heart fumbling.

“Hey! Don’t laugh at me, this is your fault.” She whines, her bottom lip jutting out.

“Awwww, I’m sorry baby.” Ronnie coos, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “I’ll kiss it better when we’re somewhere more private.” Betty’s face somehow flushes a darker shade of pink as she listens to her girlfriend’s giggles and watches her get into one of the many awaiting karts before she shakes herself out of her stupor. Reaching into her front right pocket, she sighs in relief when her fingers brush velvet. Her heart races, yet she feels serene as she follows Veronica.


“I can’t believe I lost. I literally work with cars.” Betty groans, following a grinning Veronica.

“Well believe it babe and get ready to lose at mini golf too.” Betty just smiles and wraps her arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders.

“Care to place a wager, gorgeous?” Ronnie side eyes her, head tilting in curiosity.

“What are the stakes?”

“Winner gets a lap dance and loser has to clean up Cate’s potty accidents for a week.” She pauses as she lets out a little laugh “I can’t believe you convinced me to name our dog Cate Blanchett.” Veronica’s arm snakes around her waist, snuggling into her side as they walk towards the kiosk.

“I mean, you get to name our next dog Nancy Drew so I’d say it’s even. And you’re so on. I hope you have a song in mind, ‘cause I want that dance as soon as we get to the apartments.” Betty shakes her head, grabbing their clubs and balls.

“You’re overconfidence will be your down fall, beautiful.” Veronica just laughs, accepting the club and ball handed to her.


“Don’t stand there and laugh at me!” Veronica whines. They’re on the fifth hole and Betty has discovered, to her amazement, that Ronnie has no idea how to play.

“I’m so sorry,” she trails off into a few more quieter laughs, “you were just so confident that you’d beat me and-” a snort escapes her mouth, “and you don’t even know how to swing the club.” Her girlfriend just huffs, pouting for the second time that night.

“Okay, okay, c'mere. I’ll teach you.”

Slowly, Veronica makes her way towards Betty and comes to a stop in front of her.

“You don’t need to be so stiff.” She whispers, pressing herself against Ronnie’s back and resting her hands on her hips. She gives them a light squeeze, smiling at the hitch in Veronica’s breath.

“Bend your knees slightly….Good. Now,” Betty moves her hands to rest on top of her girlfriend’s, moving them into the correct positions on the putter.

“This is where your hands should be.” Veronica nods, trying hard to focus on the mini lessons, but finding it difficult with the warmth of Betty against her.

“You don’t need to swing so hard. Just like this.” She swings their arms gently, watching as the ball rolls through the miniature windmill and into the hole on the other side.

“Okay?” She nods again, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when Betty finally pulls back.

They move onto the next hole and Veronica tries once before asking Betty to show her again.

(Betty wins, but Veronica doesn’t mind giving her favorite girl a lap dance. Especially when she knows it’ll end in her favor.)

(She might’ve minded cleaning up after the puppy if she wasn’t so cute.)


They walk hand in hand towards Betty’s car, her free hand brushing her pocket to make sure the slight bulge is still there.

“This was fun.” Veronica watches as her girlfriend nods in agreement.

“Do you have any song requests for me when we get home?” Betty opens the passenger side door to the jeep for her before wandering around the front to get into the driver’s seat.

“Uhm actually…we have one more place to go.” The car starts and she pulls out. Glancing over towards the girl in the seat next to her, she notices Veronica already looking at her and her gaze darts back to the road as Ronnie continue to study her curiously.

“You seem nervous…Where are we going? What are we doing?” There’s a sudden gasp and Betty’s eyes flicker towards her in panic before Veronica continues.

“Has this all been a ploy to gain my trust just so you could take me out into the woods and murder me?” It all comes out in a rushed breath and the absurdity of the statement startles a laugh out of Betty.

“No, nothing like that.”

“Then where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”


They drive into a familiar abandon parking lot and Veronica’s eyes widen in concern.

“Lovers Look Out?”

The car shuts off and Betty turns in her seat to ease her girlfriend’s qualms, her hand instinctively reaching out to grip Ronnie’s own.

“I know you probably don’t associate this place with good memories, but I was hoping to change that while we’re in town.”

She just nods at Betty’s words, trying to stop herself from thinking back to that part of their past.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She looks up at the soft tone in Betty’s voice.

“I promise I won’t leave this time. I’m never leaving you, okay?” A nod and Betty is leaning across the center console to pull Veronica into a gently kiss. Foreheads pressed together as lips barely brush.


They’ve been laying quietly in the field for a few minutes, in a blanket fort eerily similar to the last one, before either one of them breaks the silence.

“You see that there?” Betty asks quietly, finger tracing the constellation as Veronica snuggles deeper into her side and nods.

“That’s Adromeda. She was an Ethiopian princess, daughter of Cepheus and Cassiopeia. Her mother, Cassiopeia, loved to brag about how beautiful she was and had dared to say she was even more beautiful than the queen of the gods, Juno-”

She listens, enraptured as her girlfriend points to the many different pictures the stars make up, telling the stories in a way that leaves her in a trance. Eventually, they drift away from actual constellations and to made up stories and fairytales.

“That one reminds me of our fur baby back home.” Veronica murmurs, still pressed into her girlfriend’s side. Betty huffs out a laugh, looking at the bundle of stars Ronnie is pointing out. They settle down into another comfortable bout of silence before Betty is sitting up, pointing to a specific star in the sky. It’s much brighter than all the other ones and it’s intense blue hue has Veronica wondering how she hadn’t noticed before.

“That star right there, that’s your star.” She looks over to the girl sat next to her. Noticing how she’s practically shaking. Shaking with what? She doesn’t know.

“What do you mean that’s my star?”

She digs into her back pocket and grabs her wallet, pulling out a folded up sheet of laminated paper. Betty hands it to Veronica, watching nervously as she opens it.

“You did not name a star after me, Betty. That’s so gay.” Ronnie teases fondly before noticing what the name of the star is.

“Why’d you name it ‘Veronica Cooper-Lodge’?” She questions, her eyes drawing away from the paper in her hands to the kneeling girl in front of her. She notices the small black box gripped tightly in Betty’s hand and her lips part in a silent gasp as she realizes what’s happening.

“Veronica, when you first swept into Pop’s wearing that ridiculously attractive, stupid cape, I had knew then and there that you would utterly ruin me.” She pauses as she takes in a shaky breath, eyes never tearing away from her girlfriend’s gaze. “And when you kissed me at tryouts, I realized how..screwed I was. Because somehow you had wormed your way into my heart and broke it, all within a week of me knowing you. And yet, you were also the one to mend it and I’ve never met anyone who had, has, so much power over my heart.” They’re both crying and it takes everything in her to stay put and finally get the words that have been crowding her brain since they met, and not to reach out and hold Veronica.

“I’ve never found someone who just…gets me like you do. We’re soulmates, we fit together in all the right ways, similar and somehow different enough to compliment each other. Fate threw us together for a reason and who am I to deny destiny?” Betty pauses to shakily open the box, the ring glinting in the moonlight. Their eyes don’t stray from each other.

“Veronica Lodge, will you go full dark, no stars and marry me?” ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ AHSJDNEKSIJE MY HEART MY LORD FUKDKE. THANK YOU