some of us are trying to breathe

2

@klanceweek Day 3: Scars

“The bombs are in place,” Keith says, swinging his leg over his hoverbike and starting the engines.  He speeds away into the desert, grateful that his oversized green jacket blocks most of the wind.  “I’ll let you know when I’m in the clear.”

“Got it.”  Pidge grumbles some profanities under her breath.  “Almost done hacking into the security feed, so Hunk and I should have a clear visual in under a minute.”

“Man, the Garrison sure is worked up over this.” Hunk’s anxiety is clear even through the comms. “What do you think is in there?  Do you think it’s an alien? Oh God – what if it’s an angry alien trying to kill us all.”

“Don’t need to worry about it just yet,” Keith says tersely.  “We’ll find out soon.”

Pidge makes a triumphant noise. “More like we’re gonna find out now. Bringing up the camera fe –”  She inhales sharply and Hunk gasps at almost the same time.  “Holy shit.”

“What’s wrong?”  Keith grips the handles tighter, heart hammering behind his ribs.  “What did you see?”

“It’s Lance.”

Short thing for my Champion Lance AU because the prompt was perfect.  Just redrew some screencaps this time because I didn’t want to spend too long on it ahaha, I’ve got a lot of drawing to do this weekend…

What if another “humans are weird” thing is talking to ourselves. Like… it makes no sense? But so many of us do it. Even just muttering under our breaths. I can’t help but think that some alien species would think we’re trying to hide another aspect of our (already weird) abilities.

They can ‘throw’ stuff, and bond with nearly anything, and now they’re talking to people who aren’t even there?!? Sure, they said they were just “talking to themself” but that’s obviously just a bad excuse. They do have thoughts after all.

(Feel free to add to this, it always makes posts 38200× better)

Everything Has Changed (Part One)

Summary: In which everything changes when you discover Bucky’s true feelings for you in a very unconventional manner.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,880

A/N: The goal is to make this a mini-series. Fingers crossed that it stays that way. 

Originally posted by caps-bucky

“All clear,” you whisper. For anyone else, those words would’ve been indiscernible because of how softly they were spoken. Luckily for you, you’re not with just anyone. You’re with a super soldier equipped with enhanced hearing.

From across the empty hallway, Bucky abandons his spot behind a tall filing cabinet and runs towards you, keeping his gun up and ready to shoot at any given moment.

Keep reading

How to Increase your patience

1. Recognize that we are all different and unique. That can make it hard for us to understand each other but it also makes life more interesting. Choose to value that uniqueness in others.

2. Learn to accept your weaknesses and don’t expect yourself and others to be perfect. We’re all on a journey and, usually, change is a slow process.

3. Know your triggers. Try to be aware of what annoys and upsets you – then prepare in advance so that you act, and don’t react.

4. Slowly count to ten, and take some slow deep breaths, before you open your mouth and say something you’ll regret.

5. Try to broaden your perspective, and see things from different angles. It makes you more understanding, and more compassionate.

6. Decide to laugh a lot more and to take life less seriously. That way, you’ll feel less frustrated and you’ll feel much happier.

Things I'm doing to better myself this summer

- Getting rid of alcohol and coffee from my diet
- getting up in the morning

- drinking A LOT of water

- writing down how I’m feeling

- moving my body as much as possible (even if it’s just dancing whilst cooking!)

- taking at least one breath of fresh air a day

- keeping my surroundings clean and tidy ~ helps to keep my mind clean and tidy!

- understanding I’m better off without some people

- staying in my own lane ~ drama free ~

- focusing and working on my goals

- count my blessings! What I am grateful for

- listening to someone to UNDERSTAND them, not just to reply.

- YOGA

- trying to eat less processed sugary foods!~ they just make me feel kinda mad and lethargic after

- letting my skin and hair breathe by wearing no makeup and using no heat on my hair

Little Witch (Part 1)

Pairings: It’ll be a Peter x reader

word count: 1730

Requested:  Hey can you write one where the avengers go to recruit a girl they heard about? She lives in the deep woods and uses magic. When they find her they weren’t expecting someone so young since she’s only like 14-15. They start having second thoughts but she shows them that she can handle herself. She also wants revenge cause hydra killed her family trying to get to her.

A/N: I made the reader a little older and i hope it’s not a problem. I really liked the request and i have a big idea how to continue this. I hope you like it and if so let me know in order to post a Part 2 and maybe more ;) Enjoy (and sorry for the mistakes)

Originally posted by merlinemryspendragon


It was Saturday and everyone in the Avenger tower was finally able to relax. The whole week represented a lot of missions, hours of training and a serious lack of sleep. Today had to be their day off. Nat was trying to find an interesting film on the TV but for now with no luck. Steve was in his room immersed in his thought for the present again. Tony, as always, was doing something in his laboratory with Bruce but this time they weren’t eager to make a progress so fast, so they were mostly telling each other jokes rather than work. Clint and Vision, unusually, were cooking whatever they could think of while Peter, Wanda and Thor were ready to become tasters. Everything was going fine until a familiar and detestable sound reached their ears.

“Good morning, Avengers.”, said Colson, “How are you in this sunny and beautiful day?”

“Oh, hey Son of Col! We are perfect.”, Thor answered with a bright smile on his face.

Now everyone was in the living room looking at the man in a black suit showing on the huge TV.

“If you have to tell us something good then go on, if not…better fuck yourself.”

“Well, I’m glad to see you too, Romanoff.”, the man looked with a smile at the red-head and then turned again to the whole gang, “Okay, I will go to the main part. Three days ago something extraordinary happened in woods north of Minnesota.”, bellow him appeared some photos, “As you see, some of the trees are burnt but definitely not from a fire, and this one.”, a photo showing something like spikes coming from the ground became in view.

“What the hell is this?”, Peter exclaimed, “How is that even possible?”

“That’s what you have to find out.”

“What?! No!”, Tony said angrily. “No! Not going to happen! We have a day off, Colson!”

“I know you do, but it’s important. Given the fact it’s like 7km away from a Hydra base, it may be someone used for an experiment. And we need only three or four of you to go and check.”, the man announced.

“I’m in!”, Wanda said with no hesitations.

“Count me, too”, Clint raised his hand to show that he’s ready.

“And me.”

“Peter, you are not going.”, Tony declared.

“Why not? We only have to check what’s going on, that’s all.”

“He is right Tony, and I will go, too.”, Steve stated and the four of them received the needed information.

“I’m sick of Mr. Stark treating me like a kid.”, Peter breathed out as he and the other three avengers were getting in the helicopter.

“But you are a kid, Pete.”, Steve sat down and put his belt on. The others followed his actions and soon they were high above the ground.

“That’s not what I mean. I may be a kid as I am that young but I can look after myself. I can do things just like you guys. I want and I can become a hero. It seems he…he doesn’t want me to be one.”

“You know that’s not true.”, Wanda tried to calm the boy down, “He is just afraid. You and either I are new in all of this, but he, Steve and Clint are deep in this dangerous world and know what it costs to be a hero.”

“Wanda is right, boy. I share Stark’s thoughts but not completely. If you want to be a hero, you must know that you risk the lives of your beloved ones – family, friends, girlfriends… We all have experienced the feeling of losing someone; we just don’t want you to go through this at that young age.”, Clint said while checking his arrows.

“But don’t worry, we’ll be beside your back.”, Steve patted Peter’s shoulder and till the end of the flight nobody spoke.

Two hours later the group was finally at the mentioned place. There was no place for the helicopter to land so the heroes had to get down with the help of a rope.

“So…which direction should we go?”, Clint questioned as he, the last one, got on the hard ground.

“North.”, Steve looked at his compass to make sure he was right and then led the gang towards the destination.

“Why would somebody stay so deep In the woods?”, Peter decided to break the silence.

“I don’t think they are just staying there, Pete.”

“They are hiding.”, Wanda respond back.

“Why do you think so?”

“Colson said that there is a Hydra base in the distance…I think whoever managed to escape, is now terrified and…and angry.”

“How can you be so sure? Hydra probably sent out somebody to see if he can cooperate and serve them.”, the way Steve retorted back showed he had no good feeling towards the organization.

“Because I can feel it!”

“What do you mean?”, Peter was so confused given the fact he was new and didn’t have much information about the Hydra thing and Wanda’s powers.

“Sometimes I can either get in your head or memories, or feel your emotions.”

Steve was about to say something back as his anger has somehow unlocked but Clint was the one to stop them from a fight.

“Guys! We have a work to do and right now it’s in front of us.”, Hawkeye showed the previously seen spikes, which were like 10 meters away from them, “Can you solve your problems when we are back in the base, and I am away from your childish behavior?”

Wanda and Steve looked a little ashamed while Peter was still standing there with a stupid expression on his face while trying to figure the things out. While going to the strange and kind of a scary place the gang saw some burnt trees, others had a burnt hand mark on them, others were still up but their leaves were dry. As they were becoming closer a change in the temperature was felt.

“It wasn’t that hot minutes before. I’m sweating in this costume and now my body is itching like crazy.”, Parker announced as he began scratching.

“It’s coming from the inside.”

The spikes coming from the ground were making something like a dome. The sharp sides were touching at the top, while at the bottom they were forming a circle. This ‘structure’ was definitely made for some sort of protection.

“Maybe the person is inside this thing.”

“I will try to break it. Step back.”, Wanda commanded and then, using her magic, she broke one of the spikes. As she did so, another one grew but not upwards. Instead the spike with its sharp side directed at her body was about to kill her if it wasn’t Steve to save her.  They both fell on the ground while the others two tried to save themselves from the other deadly formations that suddenly appeared from the ground.  

“What the hell was that?!”, Clint exclaimed as he tried to catch his breath.

“I don’t know but we better find a way to…”, Peter was interrupted from Wanda’s scream to watch out. But his spider senses had already informed him about a danger. He jumped and used his webs to get on a high tree.  From up there he managed to notice the small aperture.

“I can get there and I will. Don’t try to stop me, we are losing time. When I get there you will attack and try to ruin this shield. Got it?”, the young boy notified the others through his micro earphone, “Let’s have some fun.”, Peter put his mask on and jumped from the tree. He landed just a meter away from the wanted place but as soon as his foots touched the spikes others began appearing. With his fastness he got in the hole seconds before getting seriously injured.

Although he has done it before, this time Peter made his superhero landing on his ass.

“Shit, that hurts.”, he cursed out but as soon as he did he was thrown against the strong wall made from the spikes.

“Tell me who the hell you are or I’ll kill you.”, a sweet, yet dry voice reached his ears. He looked up and saw a girl around his age standing defensive opposite him with a rage written on her face.

“I’m Pet-, shit! No, I’m Spiderman and I-”, but the boy was interrupted by being sent to the ‘wall’ again.

“You are lying! If Hydra is sending you, which I am sure about, you are gonna die in agony. They’ll finally see what I am capable of! That’s what they want, isn’t it?”, the girl screamed and clenched fists. Peter, who was thrown again, managed to see what she was doing and how she was capable of whisking him wherever she wanted. The guy soon realized she was a witch just like Wanda.

“I have no idea what you are talking about. We are here to help you”, as soon as those words were spoken, the girl was ready to make that boy shut up by repeating her previous actions but Peter was faster. He sent webs towards her hands, sticking them on one of the spikes. She tried to escape but with in vain. Peter used this opportunity to scan the girl. She was his height, with a (y/h/t) (y/h/c) hair, (y/e/c) now full with anger. Her clothes were dirty and scattered, her face slightly sunken maybe due to the lack of food.  

Suddenly the whole structure was hit and a part of it ruined down. The girl used this as an opportunity to go away and this time she managed. She began running but the boy shoot web at her and stopped her. The witch fell on the ground and looked at the four people standing meters away.

“I’ll kill you!”, she screamed and sent a stone towards the group. Wanda was the one to create a shield with her magic and protect her friends. The girl’s eyes widen as she saw that somebody had powers just as her.

“Stop attacking us and just listen!”, Wanda spoken calmly.

“We are here to help you, don’t need to be afraid.”, a man with a soft voice gave his hand to help her stand. The girl looked up and was met by a dirty blonde hair and kind blue eyes.

“C-captain America?”

Part 2 

Aries: Make your own choices. You will never be happy as long as you let everyone else control what you do.
Taurus:  Being a hypocrite never did suit you. Always thought you were better then that. See it from their perspective. 
Gemini: Stop looking to the darkness trying to find the light. If you keep focusing on everything you never had, you’ll lose everything you’ve managed to gain.
Cancer:  You survived. Congratulations. You’ve made it this far and there are miles to go. But for now rest and celebrate. You survived.
Leo: Hold your head high. There’s no shame in what you’ve done. You did what you had to do to keep yourself safe. Don’t ever fucking apologize.
Virgo: Maybe try finding some substance in your life besides this. Your past can’t hold all the answers and you cant keep using people like this. It’s not good.
Libra: It’s okay to dream and reminisce of the past. Just don’t let it destroy the kind of future you could have. Don’t let it come back and destroy you.
Scorpio: Take a breathe kid. You’re going no where fast so might as well sit back and learn to wait. Enjoy it while you can.
Sagittarius: Is it all just an act, or are you really doing this well? Are you really managing everything so perfectly? Did the thoughts really go away?
Capricorn:  What’s left to be scared of? You’ve already lost everything. There is nothing left to risk. Go big or go home. Stop being terrified and jump.
Aquarius:Enjoy the music while it plays. Let things run their course and work out how they may. Summers never last forever.
Pisces: Running will only get you so far. I hope you eventually learn that you can always come back home.
—  This weeks horoscope

anonymous asked:

I know you probably have a lot of requests with the gods and monsters - but would you ever do an Ares based one?

Zeus’s mistress Io remains in her form of a cow, guarded by Hera’s servant Argus, and Hera is content.

She will remain in that form until her death. Hera hopes that lying with her husband was worth the sacrifice.

Zeus won’t speak to her, unwilling to admit the cow is actually his lover and ensure her death, and equally unwilling to stand against his wife to try and rescue her. Hera has him just where she wants him, and it can’t last, it never does, but she intends to enjoy it while it does.  

Then Artemis comes to her, gold and fierce. She never flinches away from her queen, staring her in the face as if she is nothing more than another of her huntresses. If Hera did not hate her for being her husband’s daughter, she thinks she might actually like the girl. “Io has a destiny,” she says, “you must let her go.”

“I don’t care for her destiny,” Hera says idly, “especially when that destiny involves getting with my husband’s child.”

“She is to give birth to a new line of kings,” Artemis hisses, “to be the wife of a death god, to be mother goddess of a whole new people. She is not meant for us. You must let her go.”

“I am Hera,” she says, “I am Queen. I must do nothing.”

Artemis growls, hand twitching for her bow, but Hera only raises an eyebrow. Let the girl try. There are few that can stand against her, and the huntress is not among them. Artemis lets out a low breath and says, “Do it, my queen, and I will grant you what it is you most desire.”

“Some peace and quiet?” Hera asks.

“A child,” she answers. “Let Io go, let her fulfill her destiny as a goddess of the Black Land of the Nile. If you do that, I, the patron goddess of childbirth, will personally use every ounce of power I possess to ensure you conceive and deliver a child of Zeus.”

Hera’s eyes narrow, “Neither my power nor his has ever been able to achieve this. What makes you think you are any different?”

“We all have our domains,” she says, “just as you cannot command the sea, just as your husband has no power over the art of weaving, so can I ensure a healthy child when you could not.”

She taps her fingers against her throne. They call her a mother goddess, though she’s raised no children. Hephaestus may be her precious son, but he doesn’t know that it was not her that threw him from Olympus. Very few people know that. And she didn’t raise him regardless, that honor belongs to Hecate.

A child, of her and Zeus. A child she can raise.

“I accept,” she announces. “You may take her, and Zeus may fulfill her destiny.” She leans forward, brings the oppressive weight of her power to the fore and lowers the pressure of the air until Artemis is left shivering. “Know this, Patron Goddess of Childbirth. If Io births a son of Zeus before I do, I will travel to the Black Land of the Nile and slay her and her children with my own two hands. Not even Hades will be able to put her back together again.”

“Yes, my Queen,” Artemis says, unable to keep her teeth from chattering.

~

Hera is true to her word. She allows Hermes to think he’s tricked Argus and to steal Io away. She pretends to be outraged at the audacity, at the pure white cow traveling to the sands of the Nile.

Artemis is true to her word. Hera lies with Zeus, like she has so many times before, and a child grows inside of her. One day she stands before her husband and brings his hand to the swell of her stomach, “This is your child.”

Something almost like happiness steals across his face. She forgets, sometimes, that they hate each other only as much as they love each other. After so much time together, many would think it would be one or the other. They simply opted for both.

Artemis is there during the birth, her easy confidence more comforting then Hera will ever admit. Delivering Hephaestus was easy compared to this. She screams and cries and Hestia’s hands on her shoulders are all that keeps her from collapsing and begging someone to just cut the child from her. She doesn’t think she can die in childbirth, not with Artemis between her legs. She wishes she’d thought to ask before this began.

But she does not die. Her son is born, just as healthy and beautiful as Hephaestus was. “Well done,” Artemis says softly, placing the squirming child into her arms.

Zeus touches her hair and kisses his son’s forehead. “We shall call him Ares.”

“Very well,” she agrees, so tired her eyes struggle to stay open.

She hands her son to Hestia, and finally allows sleep to take her.

~

Ares grows into the spitting image of his father. Same copper-red skin, same silky black hair. Her husband keeps it short, but her son lets his grow long. The minutes Hera spends every morning brushing his hair are among her favorite.

He has an eager smile and a soft heart. Hera doesn’t know where he got it, since it’s certainly not from her or Zeus. Demeter tolerates his bumbling after her, though any time Kore attempts to meet her cousin Demeter’s temper frays. Poseidon allows Ares to explore the depths of the sea with a minor sea god acting as his guide. Apollo plays for him, and Artemis teaches him to hunt. Zeus’s lightning doesn’t burn his son, and when storms rage he takes Ares to the top of Olympus and teaches him to throw lightning bolts.

Hera selfishly does not allow Ares to go to the underworld. She knows he would be safe there, that Hades would protect him as he protected Hephaestus, but that’s precisely why she won’t allow it. They got to raise one of her sons already. It pains her to share Ares with them now.

He is happy, and kind, kinder than anyone would expect a child of her womb to be.

“He must choose a domain,” Zeus rumbles, watching Ares shoot arrows with perfect accuracy.

“He is a child still,” Hera says, “let him remain so for a little longer.”

“If he does not choose a domain,” Zeus warns, “one will choose him. We are gods. We must be gods of something.”

She flickers her gaze at him, and he scoots an inch away from her. “He is a child, and for now a child he will remain. We are not Demeter. We shall not thrust the responsibilities and power of a deity on a child who is not prepared for it.”

Zeus disapproves, but says nothing more.

Her son will be the god of something patient, something soft. The god of lost children, of heartbroken suitors, of forgiveness. Something where his gentle heart will aid him instead of hurt him.

She traded her happiness for power. She doesn’t regret it. But Ares doesn’t need to do the same – she’s the most powerful goddess that still walks the earth. He’s her son, and he’ll want for nothing she can provide.

~

Ares is almost fully grown, long hair reaching his hips even braided, and the strength of his limbs is such that he can keep up with Artemis on her most vigorous of hunts, that he can throw his father’s lightning bolts halfway across the world.

He’s been to every place, and met every god of the earth, sea, and sky.

Except for one.

 It’s not hard to find the volcano. He’s strong enough and old enough to take care of himself, and his mother does not worry when he says he’s going to the earth. But he did not tell her where, precisely, on the earth he was going.

He has strong legs.  It’s easy for him to climb to the top of the volcano. He’s almost made it there when something grabs his shoulders, stilling him. He turns, and stares into a single large eye. “What are you doing?” the cyclopes growls.

“I’m looking for Hephaestus,” he says, “He’s my brother.”

“My master has many brothers,” the cyclopes says.

Ares shakes his head. He is not the product of his father’s fling with a sprite or mortal. “I am Ares, son of Zeus and Hera. Just as Hephaestus is. I came here to meet my brother.” The cyclopes hesitates. He asks, “What’s your name?”

“Brontes,” he answers, surprised.

“Brontes,” he smiles, “I just want to meet him. I’ve never met him before. I won’t linger.”

There’s a moment where Brontes looks conflicted, and Ares tries to look as unassuming as possible. “Fine,” he huffs, “but don’t get angry at me if he dips you in lava.”

“That would be fun,” he says brightly. Lightning doesn’t burn him. So far the only thing hot enough to cause him pain is Hestia’s fire. He probably could go swimming in lava.

Brontes looks at him as if he’s slightly unhinged. He just keeps smiling.

~

There are more cyclopes underneath, and bright glittering machines that Ares can’t even begin to wrap his mind around. “Who are you?” someone demands, and a hand grabs his wrist and yanks him away from a boiling vat of lava that he’d been peering into.

He looks up at a man taller and broader than he is. He has skin almost as dark as the obsidian of his volcano, but lighter eyes. They are the color of dark amber, of molasses. “We have the same eyes,” he says happily.

Hephaestus releases him instantly. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?” he asks, “The mortals talk of you. No one else will. But you’re my brother, right?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he repeats, “Does Zeus know where you are?”

He shrugs, taking a step closer. His brother takes a step back. He wonders if he’ll have to treat Hephaestus like a spooked horse.  “Father doesn’t keep track of where I am. Mom know I’m on earth.” Hephaestus flinches, small enough that he almost doesn’t notice. “We have her eyes, you know.”

He can’t stop starring at Hephaestus’s skin. They do not work like mortals – Demeter, Hestia, Zeus, and Hera are all different shades despite coming from the same parents. But – Ares looks so much like his father. Kore looks like Demeter. Yet Hephaestus looks nothing like their father. He can see their mother in him, in the eyes and shape of his jaw, even in how angry he is right now. He looks like Hera does when she’s about to lose her temper, lips pressed into a thin line and the careful stillness of his shoulders.

“I wasn’t trying to make you angry,” he says plaintively, “I only wanted to say hello.”

Unlike their mother, Hephaestus lets out a deep breath and seemingly all of his anger along with it. “I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Why? You don’t even know me.”

Hephaestus kicks him lightly in the shin, the pretty gold and copper of his metal legs catching his eye. “You have legs, and I do not. Hera did not throw you from Mount Olympus as she threw me.”

Ares looks hard at his brother’s face. The stories say his mother threw her son away for being ugly, but he seems just as handsome as any other god Ares has seen. His features are strong and chiseled, and he supposes that could have looked unattractive on a baby, but –

– his mother loves him. Hera loves him with a ferocity only matched by her temper, she loves him at his most mischievous and irritable, loves him when a stray thunderbolt sets Demeter’s hair on end, loves him when even Artemis and Apollo have grown tired of his antics, loves him when Athena can tolerate no more of his questions. He is her son, and so her love comes without conditions.

He doesn’t think Hera would have loved his brother any less just because of how he looked.

He also knows that if he tries to say that, it’s likely Hephaestus will push him into a lava pit.

“Well, that’s not my fault,” he says, “If you don’t want us to be brothers, can’t we at least be friends?”

Hephaestus’s face softens. He looks like their mother then too.  He crosses his arms, “You can’t tell your parents.”

Our parents, he thinks but doesn’t say. “Obviously. Where did you get so many cyclopes?”

The last remnants of his brother’s stern façade shatters as he throws back his head and laughs.

~

Ares is very near maturity, more adult than child, and his father constantly pressures him to choose a domain. He usually quiets with one sharp glance from his wife, but the fact remains that it is time for Ares to take his place among the gods of the pantheon, to have temples in his name and worshipers like a proper deity.

He doesn’t really want any of that.  He wants to continue hunting with Artemis, learning with Athena, building with Hephaestus.

His brother lets him help out in his workshop sometimes, if he’s very careful and does exactly as he’s told. Otherwise he sits on a table, legs swinging, and watches his brother work and tells him about what he does in the time in-between visits. He talks about their mother enough that Hephaestus doesn’t flinch at her every mention, which Ares can only consider an improvement. Sometimes Brontes will stand beside him and they’ll eat sweet buns together.

Unfortunately, all things, good and bad, must come to an end.

~

There are two giants, Otus and Ephialtes, who grow tired of hearing of the golden boy of Olympus, who grow jealous of his kindness and his beauty.

These two giants sneak onto Mount Olympus in the middle of the night, sneak into Ares’s room, and kidnap him. They’re not stupid enough to attempt to kill him. Instead, they stuff him into an urn, and seal him inside. Ares rages and fights, uses every trick he can think of to break out his prison, but none of them work.

Stuck at the bottom of the urn and seething, he can’t help but think that if he’d listened to his father and chosen a dominion he might be strong enough to free himself. But he didn’t, so he can’t, and instead he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Days turn to weeks turn to months. He knows they’re looking for him. He knows his mother will tear apart the whole universe attempting to find him if nothing else. But – what if they can’t? What if he’s stuck in this urn for the rest of eternity?

In his darkest moments, his sorrow turns to rage. He is a god, son of Hera and Zeus, how dare they do this to him?

Then, one day, the urn opens.

Hermes peers down into it, then his face splits into a grin. “We’ve been looking for you!” He reaches down and hauls Ares out, and for a moment all he can do is blink at the glaring sun. Then his vision clears, and he sees they’re in the midst of a battle. The giants are fighting against the gods, against his parents, against the twins, against his brother. It’s bloody carnage, but – he can’t help but feel touched that all these people came looking for him. “Almost everyone offered to help find you,” he says, “but Hera didn’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves trying to sneak into their territory.”

No sooner has Hermes finished speaking than a giant barrels into his mother with sickening snap. Her shoulder slopes at a grotesque angle, but it hardly even slows her down.

“I have to help,” he says, a desperate urgency filling him. They came to help him, and now they’re getting hurt. That’s never something he’d wanted.

“Ares, wait!” Hermes calls out as he goes hurtling toward the battle. He doesn’t wait. Fighting on the ground can only do so much good, they’re strong but they’re outnumbered one hundred to one. He darts to Artemis, twisting around the bodies she’s throwing over her shoulder. “I need your bow!”

“Ares!” she says joyously, then, “What?”

“Trust me,” he says, “give me your bow.” A giant comes running towards them. Artemis flips him over her shoulder while continuing to stare at him in confusion. He’d be impressed if he wasn’t so worried. “Artemis, please!”

She hands over her bow. She moves to give him her quiver of arrows as well, but he’s already moving away from her. Next it’s to his father, who’s hurtling lightning bolts towards the swarm of giants crowding him. They’re deadly, but only so effective at close-range. He grabs a sizzling lightning bolt right from Zeus’s hand, the only being on the planet who could do that and survive, and keeps running. “Get clear!” he calls out over his shoulder. “Everyone move!”

He runs up past Hermes, needing to get to high ground for this to work. “Get everyone off the battlefield,” he says to Hermes. “Now.”

Hermes pulls a face, but by the time he makes it to the top of the mountain, the gods have shaken off most of the giants, are far enough away that he doesn’t have to worry.

He can do this. He’s Ares, the son of Hera and Zeus. He’s been trained in archery by the great huntress herself. He breaths in, and strings his father’s lightning bolt like an arrow. He pulls it back, breaths out, and lets the lightning bolt fly.

It lands in the middle of the battlefield full of confused giants. With a great clap of thunder and a burst of light, they’re all gone.

All that remains of the traitorous giants is a crater.

The gods are approaching him, his mother at a limping gait that makes his chest ache. Zeus gets to him first, grin stretched wide as he grabs him by both his shoulders. “My boy! That was magnificent!”

“Thanks,” he says. The smell of charred flesh is in the air, and it makes his stomach roll.

They kidnapped him. They stuffed him in an urn for over a year. They hurt his mom.

That doesn’t mean he enjoyed it. He never wants to do anything like that ever again.

“This was destiny,” his father says enthusiastically, and Ares has no idea what he’s talking about. “This is what you’re meant to do, son.”

He stares. He hopes it’s not.

The other gods are still at the bottom of the mountain. Artemis and Apollo each have one of his mother’s arms slung over their shoulders and are helping her up the mountain. Hermes and Hephaestus aren’t far behind.

He’s never seen his father look so proud of him. There’s a leaden pit in his stomach he can’t explain.

“In honor of my son’s great feat,” Zeus booms, his voice carrying across air, speaking with the voice of the king of the gods so his words become law, so they spread to every corner of the world, “I declare him Ares, God of War.”

Ares can’t breathe.

This isn’t what he wanted.


gods and monsters series, part xvii

read more of the gods and monsters series here

Suga Daddy: Part 7

Suga Daddy: Part 7

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Words: 9.6k

Genre: Smut, angst, dirty talk, dom!Yoongi

There is another gif in the story that describes the moment I was portraying. Ignore Namjoon’s name on it, lol. Anyway, enjoy :) 

Parts:  one | two | three | four | five | six 

You had never been more excited to get out of dance practice. Yugyeom had been making fun of you the entire time because you were so out of it. You were trying to hide that from Jane because you were slightly messing up. “Shut up,” you pushed Yugyeom with a laugh, “Some of us are trying to focus.”

Keep reading

Hey everyone!! I’m finally posting my Dralentine’s day fanart/fanfic

@drvcopotter got this (hello!!) hope you liked it! *hides shyly*

‘Enough, that’s- that’s enough… Draco!’

'I’m sober!’ Draco lauched himself forward, blindly trying to snatch the Firewhiskey bottle from Harry’s hands.

The crowded pub made it easier for Harry to just get up from their table and pull Draco with him without getting much attention from their coworkers, most of them already as drunk as Malfoy. The blond fidgeted in his arms, mumbling something Harry couldn’t understand or barely hear.

We’re going home’ the unintelligible words shushing Draco immediately. He’d learnt parseltongue was useful for those times Draco wouldn’t listen to him. Harry hooked one of Malfoy’s arms around his shoulder, doing his best not to bump into too many people on his way to the door.

'Harry!’

Fuck. He turned around with some difficulty, Malfoy breathing on his neck while trying to balance his weigh on his legs without bringing both of them down.

Ron walked towards him, his expression quickly changing into one of concern as soon as he recognized the blond head.

'Where are you going?’ Ron squinted  his eyes suspiciously, darting them from Harry to Malfoy, who hiccuped and giggled, the sound muffled by Harry’s hair where his face was now buried. Ron didn’t even bother to hide his disconfort, his cheeks a dark shade of red Harry knew couldn’t be blamed only on Firewhiskey.

'Home’ Harry rolled his eyes, giving Ron a small smile to try and ease the tension a bit.

'Why? You’re not his mother! Just leave him here, I’m sure he can-’ Ron gesticulated towards an almost unconscious Draco like he was trash Harry was taking outside.

'And then what? I’ll have to open the door for him later anyway.’

Ron sighed, searching for help and noticing no one cared if they were leaving or not.

'It’s friday and you’ve just finished a fucked up case. You don’t deserve this, Harry’

It’s not that bad, Harry thought, the words now common in his vocabulary when talking to Ron, Hermione, or any of his friends. Being paired with Malfoy after their Auror training two years ago may have angered him a bit - quite a lot, actually - and finding out they’d have to share a flat, which was protocol for new partners in order to 'strengthen the bond’ didn’t sound like the best of options, but after all, it really wasn’t that bad. Malfoy was organized and surprisingly quiet. He could be nosy, childish and bossy but most of the time, it was manageable.

A drunk Malfoy, however was another story. Needy, cuddly, demanding. It shocked Harry the first time the blond got himself pissed on a Friday night and let his head fall on Harry’s shoulder in the middle of the bar.

'Let’s go home, Harry’ he giggled in his ear, Harry’s own name resonating in his head.

After that he’d tried his best not to let Malfoy drink too much.

Malfoy hiccuped again and Ron let out an exasperated sigh.

'It’s fine. See you Monday, yeah?’ Harry turned around before Ron could say anything, his own mind a bit dizzy from the alcohol and the noise.

***

'Harry’

The cold breeze hit them square in the face the moment Harry opened the door. He let it close behind him, the noise gone the second it clicked shut. Malfoy shivered against him, curling himself on Harry’s side. The sooner they reached their flat the better. The safer, Harry thought.

Harry’ Draco breathed in his ear. Fuck, Harry hated how Malfoy always said his name, how could Harry mean something completely different than Potter coming from the same person?

'Yeah?’ Harry stopped, his mind still too slow for him to remember where was the nearest apparition point.

'I’m hungry’ Draco nuzzled his nose against Harry’s dark locks, inhaling like that was the most natural thing to do.

'What? No, we’re going home, Draco’ He said firmly, deciding for a random direction.

'Please, I’m really hungry…’ Harry let out an exasperated groan, the weigh and the cold doing nothing to improve his mood. He took a look around, spotting a small convenience store not far from them on the other side of the street. They had no food at home, he was tired and, if Draco was indeed that hungry, he woudn’t be too picky about it.

They crossed the street, Harry sitting Draco on the closest bench outside the store as soon as they reached it.

'Stay here. I mean it, Draco, stay

’’m not a dog, Potter’

Potter. Good, he was not that drunk.

Harry turned around, rolling his eyes, and opened the glass door.

Water, some noodles. An aspirin since Draco forgot to brew hangover potion. Hmm, chocolate, since Draco would be in an awful mood tomorrow-

Harry stopped shortly. Merlin, they sounded so… domestic. Harry shivered, avoiding the cashier’s eyes since he knew his cheeks were probably bright pink.

He headed for the door noticing through the glass that Draco wasn’t where he’d left him.

'Fuck’ He stormed out of the store, his wand already firmly secured in his hand.

'Draco?’

'Hmm?’ Harry jumped, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Malfoy was stading not far from him, his hand placed on a huge cabin right by the door.

'A photobooth cabin?’ Harry’s voice startled the blond, who darted his eyes towards him.

'Photo what?’

Harry remebered the first time Dudley got home with one of those stripes, his ugly face splashed in tiny squares all over it. When he’d asked aunt Petunia if he could take one too the woman told him those things were for people with friends. And Harry had none.

'You take photos in these’ He stared at the ground, the grip on the plastic bags tighter than necessary.

'Let’s go’

'I wanna try it’

'What?’ Harry stopped, not believing what his ears were telling him.

'Come on, Potter, it can’t be that bad’ Draco took a step forward, lifting the black curtains and peering inside, curiously.

'You’re aware this is a muggle thing, right?’ Harry said, taking a step forward. He had no idea why a muggle photobooth cabin was standing outside of a convenience store on a wizard neighborhood. He checked the money entry, noticing it was modified to accept wizard money. An image of Mr. Weasley appeared in his mind instantly. Right, there were wizards who collected stuff like that.

Harry dropped two knuts inside the machine, Draco already getting inside.

It was small, smaller than he’d expected, with only one old black stool. Harry sat awkwardly at the edge, almost falling while doing his best to avoid touching Draco more than needed. The blond seemed too distracted with a big black screen in front of him to notice or even worry himself about it, letting his knee touch Harry’s carelessly.  Harry pressed the only button under the screen, the countdown starting in front of them.

'What’s happening?’ Draco reached for his wand but Harry stopped him before he could take it out of his pocket.

'Look there, and…’

The first picture was taken, Harry only having a few seconds to pull a funny face. He couldn’t help laughing when he realized Draco was just frowning at the camera.

'Are you stupid, Potter?’ He turned to stare at Harry, reminding him of how close they were.

'Why?’ Harry gulped, looking everywhere but at him.

'That’s your idea of a funny face?’ A crooked smile formed in Draco’s lips, paired with something wicked in his eyes. Before Harry could stop him, Malfoy reached out and grabbed his glasses, putting them on his own face.

Another picture was taken while Draco tried to impersonate him. Harry couldn’t help bursting out laughing, Malfoy so unrecognizable wearing his glasses the whole thing seemed too absurd to be taken seriously.

Tears still streaming down his face, Harry opened his eyes to find a small smile on Draco’s lips. The black old frames constrasting with his bright grey eyes and blond hair looked almost… innocent. Harry shouldn’t be thinking that, he shouln’t even be there in that small cabin with him, but the second the blond burst out laughing too, the sound covering Harry’s loud heartbeat, he forgot why Draco Malfoy couldn’t be something else for him.

Another picture was taken before Harry pulled the man towards him and kissed him on the lips.

It took Draco a few seconds to kiss back, his eyes falling shut and lips opening to allow Harry to deepen it. It was, in some way, like a first kiss, the wamth radiating from Draco’s mouth reaching the bottom of Harry’s belly, warming every inch of his body.

They parted, eyes still closed.

‘Harry’ Draco whispered, his tone low and needy.

Harry gulped again, licking his lips which were still millimiters from the other’s. ‘Let’s go back to mine’

‘Did you forget we live together?’

‘I’m trying to flirt here, you git’

Harry chuckled, holding Draco’s face between his hands and kissing him again, softer this time.

‘Let’s go home, Draco’

By Way of Spontaneity (End)

Summary: On a whim, Bucky declares you to be his girlfriend to his grandma and mother. They’re eager to meet you and he asks you to pretend to be with him for just one dinner with his family. But is that really all?

Word Count: 1,185

Warnings: None.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

A/N: Thank you for coming on this journey with me! Here’s to the next series! <3 

Originally posted by buckysqueenbitch


Bucky felt like a lab rat, being observed and analyzed to the deepest parts of himself. Fidgeting, he glared at Steve and Peggy. “What?”

“What?” scoffed Steve. “We should be asking you that. What the hell is going on, Bucky? You don’t really look like you care so much that your girlfriend is cheating on you.”

Bucky raised a finger and gave him a cheeky smile. “Actually, I have fed you the incorrect information?”

“Fed us?” asked Peggy, voice filled with indignation. “What are we, your pets?”

“I’m just sayin’! I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

“Then what is the truth, Buck? Because it’s all pretty confusing right about now, and your ‘girlfriend’ is not exactly the best of persons at the moment,” said Steve, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked every bit the part of a father and Bucky stopped himself from teasing his cousin.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

what level of specificity would you recommend in naming diagnoses in novels? would you say you run the risk of dating your story if you give your character a label that soon goes out of use (like ddnos in the dsm 4 becoming osdd in the dsm 5)? especially in stories that are meant to be in the far future or an alternate universe. is it better to avoid clinical wording to lessen the chance of it becoming obsolete in a few years? or does the value of explicit representation outweigh that?

This is a interesting question! There’s a couple of ways to go about this:

1. Don’t name any kind of diagnosis at all; let readers draw that conclusion.

This is my least favorite, because I personally think naming the disorder is important for representation. If you choose this one, I recommend really going out of your way to clearly portray the symptoms.

2. Use the real name, even if it’s anachronous / doesn’t fit your setting.

“The wizard has panic disorder and agoraphobia, so they never leave their tower.”

3. Use the real name, but only on a meta / narrator level.

“In another world, her affliction would be called depression, but they had no name for it here.”

4. Modify existing names to try to convey the same meaning while sounding right for your setting.

The healer shakes their head gravely. “He has a disorder of the personality that makes him dependent on others. It is not something a potion can cure.” 

(Dependent personality disorder)

5. Use fancier-sounding existing names.

“I’m so worried about her, Father. Do you think it could be dysthymia?”

(Persistent Depressive Disorder)

6. Use historical names if your story is in the past. Be careful with this one though - some of the historical terms can be problematic.

Alex Example takes a deep breath before confessing to Lord Winston, “I think I have manic depression, just as my mother did.” 

(Bipolar or related disorders)

7. Make up a name and describe its symptoms enough that readers understand what you’re saying.

The seer peers at Alex Example before saying, “The Curse of the Soldier is upon you.”

Alex Example frowns. “But how can I have it? I’ve never been on a battlefield.”

The seer smiles sadly. “War is not the only horror that can bring the curse. The tragedies you’ve been through are haunting you.”

(PTSD)

8. Make up names and link them to the current diagnosis if your story is in the future.

“I’ve got severe neural psychosis.”

“What’s that again? I don’t know psychobabble.”

“Used to be called schizophrenia.”


Hope that helps! 

Followers, can you think of other ways to include a diagnosis in your non-modern stories?


Support Scriptshrink on patreon!

The RFA guys + V + Saeran reacting to MC having a daddy kink

yes hello it’s me, the submissive little shit back at it again with more dominance from our faves (i won’t do baehee in this as i can’t really imagine her having a mommy kink, so she would most likely kink shame you tbh)

((my first headcanon in months and it’s daddy smut, i’m not even sorry))

~jane

Yoosung

  • This boy is a switch, okay
  • It’s basically canon that he is often very submissive, but as soon as he gets jealous he gets super possessive and in my humble opinion dominant
  • Which means rough sex, including pinning you to the closest surface, hickies all over and the occasional spanking if he really needed to teach you a lesson
  • He needed to study for his final exams when Zen invited the RFA to see his newest musical, and therefore couldn’t join you there
  • He did however check his phone while taking a break and saw a selfie of you and Zen all over his feed, with crazy fans shipping the two of you
  • Taken over by jealousy, he had you pinned against the front door almost before you could even close it, attacking your neck with love bites as he muttered how you were only his
  • Seeing this side of your usually shy boyfriend always made you a stuttering mess, and before you had even realized it, you moaned out “daddy”
  • For just a moment he gave you his confused puppy look, before fully realizing what you said and blushed, his eyes darkening with lust
  • “That’s right baby girl, I am your daddy. No one else. Now go to the bedroom and be undressed in two minutes, daddy will make sure you remember that you’re his”
  • can you tell how much of a slut i am for dom!yoosung
  • After you were done he would be a blushing mess, as he didn’t even know he was into that
  • Although he would take control more often, he won’t be your daddy every time - but when he is, he takes very good care of his baby girl


Zen

  • Zen had gotten a role in a musical a few cities away but you were too busy to come with him, so he stayed alone at a hotel for two weeks while doing it
  • Even though the two of you made a point to call each other at least once every day, he missed you when you hung up to take a shower and decided to scroll through tumblr while he waited for you to come back
  • He knew you had a fan account on there and while he didn’t follow you because he didn’t want the spam from all your fandoms on his feed, he did check your account now and then
  • Totally not to see you fangirl over him, pff no
  • He scrolled quickly past the things he didn’t care/know about, a small smile on his face as he found it cute that you were so passionate about everything
  • That is until he saw a reblogged post saying “reblog if zen is is the reason you have a daddy kink - i would kill for him to call me princess and tie me up”
  • Flustered, he accidently dropped his phone on the floor and scrambled to pick it up
  • “Zenny? What happened, did you drop your phone again?”
  • You were obviously back from the shower, and the image of you naked and wet in addition to the idea of you calling him daddy made the beast within him groan with lust
  • “Princess, why are you keeping things like this from me?”
  • “What do you mean? What have I done?”
  • “You haven’t told daddy just how much you like being his little baby girl”
  • “I-I… I’m sorry daddy, I won’t keep things like that from you again”
  • “Hmm… Should I believe you? I think you should send daddy a picture of you to show him how sorry you are. Show me your apologetic look”
  • You tried your best to take a doe eyed selfie that showed how much he made you blush, making sure to show your clevage as well
  • “I don’t really think you’re all that sorry, princess. You should send me more pictures like that”
  • You heard his strict tone become a bit more relaxed as he started breathing heavy, and you hoped he was touching himself
  • You did as he said, trying harder to look innocent and sexy at the same time, and heard him downright moan when he recieved the picture
  • “Baby girl, facetime me now. You need to help daddy with something”
  • With that he hung up, leaving you kind of flustered as he had found out your ultimate kink, before you facetimed him and picked up where you left of


Jumin

  • You were trying to read a book and listen to some music while Jumin did some work in his home office, but Elizabeth kept playing with the cord on your headset
  • “No Elizabeth, stop it! Do I really have to go and tell daddy what a bad girl you are? Leave the cord alone!”
  • As you were listening to music and busy trying to distract the cat, you didn’t notice Jumin standing in the door until he chuckled
  • “Daddy, huh? i prefer that over ‘cat mom’, at least”
  • You blushed when you realized he had heard the nickname you used for him only around Elizabeth, and tried to play it off by lifting her up and talking in a baby voice, pretending to voice her
  • “But daddy, she is no fun! Your little kitten wants attention, and daddy was too busy to play. But I will be a good girl from now, I promise”
  • “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, kitten”
  • Jumin shaked his head in faked annoyance, but as he stepped closer you realized he wasn’t looking at the cat
  • You let go of Elizabeth and she walked away, leaving you alone with Jumin towering over you
  • “Good girls don’t blame others, my love. You’re the one who wanted attention, right? You’re the one who wanted daddy to play with her?”
  • You nodded and blushed more, trying not to show how much his words affected you
  • He caressed your cheek before gripping your chin and lifting your gaze up to meet his, wanting to know if you found this as hot as he did
  • “Let’s go get your favorite toys, then. Daddy will make sure his kitten won’t be bored for the next few hours”


707

  • He had been working for two days straight and you hadn’t even seen him leave the computer, except from the occasional toilet break
  • You were needy and wanted his attention, but he kept telling you off because he “just needed a few more minutes, then he would be done”
  • After a few more hours of this, you’d had enough and just plopped down in his lap, ignoring his furious typing
  • “MC, not now, I’m almost finished”
  • “But daddy, I’m lonely… Can you please play with me?”
  • His typing stopped and you could swear you saw his glasses shine mischievously for a moment
  • “Well… If my little princess is lonely, I guess I have no other choice but to play with her. Too bad you have been such a bad girl today, trying to distract daddy. How should you be punished, baby girl? Maybe some spanks on your cute little ass?”
  • You nodded shamefully, pulled your pants and panties down and repositioned so you were laying on your stomach over his lap, presenting him with your bare ass
  • You could only whimper when he smacked your ass without warning, before rubbing his hand over it soothingly
  • “Such a shame that daddy has to punish his pretty little girl… What do I have to do to make you listen, hm?”
  • He spanked you again and again with no mercy, until you were a whiny mess and tried to squirm free of his tight grip on your hips to save yourself from the bruises you knew would come
  • “Will you behave now, princess?”
  • As soon as he saw you nod, he picked you up bridal style and carried you to bed for your reward for being a good girl
  • fuck me up fam, he would be such a good daddy
  • When you woke up in his arms the morning after, he would already be awake and looking at you with heart eyes until your stomach growled, which would make him laugh
  • “Shut up, I’m hungry!”
  • “Hi hungry, I’m daddy”
  • Yes, he would use this as an excuse to say dad jokes


V

  • All he wanted was to edit a few photos of the two of you he had taken to make a card for your anniversary, but as he couldn’t find his laptop, he decided to borrow yours while you were out with some friends
  • However, as soon as he opened it up, he was greeted by the sound of obnoxious moaning and the sound of skin slapping
  • He quickly shut the computer again and hid his face in his hands, mortified that he stumbled upon the porn you were obviously watching
  • Deciding to respect your privacy, he really did try his best to find his own laptop, but he couldn’t find it anywhere
  • He eventually gave up and realized he had to use yours to get the pictures done, so with a deep breath he opened your laptop again, ready to click the porn away and focus on what he needed to do
  • The sounds started again and he paused the video, but as he waited for the editing program to open, he saw the title of what you were watching
  • “Daddy takes care of his princess..?”
  • Intrigued by the idea of you having a daddy kink he resumed the video, growing harder when he imagined the girl with the baby pink lingerine was you
  • A thought crossed his mind; he had the perfect idea as of what to give you for your anniversary
  • When the morning of the big day came around a few weeks later your blue haired boyfriend was already awake, presenting you with your gift as soon as you muttered a “good morning”
  • You opened the card expecting to find a cute message like he usually wrote on your anniversaries, but you were only met with “Daddy saw something that reminded him of his little girl and couldn’t resist getting you something special. Happy anniversary, my princess”
  • He was too shy to meet your shocked eyes, which only widened more when you opened the gift and saw the pink babydoll dress and vibrator
  • “Was it too much..?”
  • Obviously anxious that he assumed too much, you reassured him by pecking his cheek and resting your hand on his hardening croth, suprised by how much even the idea of being called daddy worked up your supposedly vanilla boyfriend
  • “I love it, daddy! Thank you so much!”
  • He smiled relieved as you changed from your sleepwear to your new set, gaining a boost of confidence when he realized he knew your body well enough to get you the perfect size
  • “You’re such a good girl, princess. Now lay back and let daddy give you your real present”


Saeran

  • “Harder, daddy…”
  • He was woken up by your needy moans and the feeling of your hips moving against his, grinding your ass against his crotch as he was spooning you
  • As he was half asleep he didn’t realize what you had said, the only thing he realized was how hard you’d made him and how badly he wanted you that exact moment
  • After hesitating for a few moments he let his hand travel down your belly before pulling your panties to the side, feeling how you were already soaking wet
  • This earned him another moan from you, which only got louder when he circled your clit with two fingers
  • “Saeran, I need you so badly… Please daddy”
  • Hearing his baby girl beg for him made him ever harder, and he couldn’t resist gently biting your shoulder
  • You woke up with a gasp as he pushed a finger inside of you, giving you some much needed satisfaction
  • “Were you dreaming about daddy’s cock, princess?” he groaned in your ear as he pushed it further in, crooking it to find your sweet spot
  • When your only response was a whimper, he pressed his crotch against your backside, letting you feel him
  • “I asked you a question baby, I expect an answer”
  • You nodded and wiggled your hips, trying to get him to shove another finger into you
  • “Tsk tsk tsk, such an impatient little girl. Daddy will take care of you, don’t you worry your pretty little head with that”
  • With that he rolled you over so he was hovering above you, before kissing his way down to where you needed him the most
  • fuck me up again, another good daddy
Some things they don't tell you about transitioning

• you’ll probably have bad acne. And also get facial hair. these two things together hurt like hell. Shaving is a bitch.
• the farther along you are in your transition, the less safe women will feel around you. Don’t be offended by this. If you’re walking at night, give women that you run across plenty of space. I’m sure you’ve walked by a man at night and clutched your keys a little tighter. Don’t give her a reason to feel scared.
• Carry extra deodorant in your bag. You’ll feel smelly all the time, and even if others don’t notice the smell, it’ll make you feel less anxious knowing you can put some on whenever.
• Your crotch will get more hairy. Like, a lot. If you shave, you’ll have a hard time getting it all. Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.
• Your pee and your crotch in general may change smell and become a lot more pungent. As weird as it is, it’s normal. If it’s painful, see a doctor.
• Your face shape will change. At first, you may feel really ugly. It’s just because you aren’t used to how you look. As it becomes more familiar, you’ll see just how handsome you really are :)
• Some symptoms of T are also symptoms of pregnancy. Use protection during sex and buy a pregnancy test if you’re worried. T isn’t a foolproof pregnancy prevention.
• Some days, shots are harder to do than others. It’s okay. Take your time, and take deep breaths.
• Get used to voice cracks! They’ll happen often, and may be embarrassing, but eventually you won’t even remember that stage of your life. Singing is impossible during the voice crack stage.
• If you haven’t changed your name legally, picking up your prescription may be hard for you. Just imagine you’re picking up someone else’s order. Hundreds of people pick up medication there daily- they won’t remember your name.
• A time will come when strangers begin referring to you as he. It may throw you off. Try to play it cool, and celebrate once they leave
• There will be days where you feel like shit. Try to take a picture of yourself or record your voice pre-T. Seeing how far you’ve come can be a nice pick me up on those rough days.

It’s going to be tough, but you’ve made it this far. I’m so proud of you and what you’ll achieve. You’ve got this :)

5

Isaac x Reader

Requested By Anon


“You’ll do fine.” You whispered to Isaac who was fiddling with his fingers.

“But they’re better than me what if I don’t make the team or… what if the try-outs run late!” Isaac mumbled as he watched the busy corridor.

“You’ll be fine, and I’ll even come and watch.” You smiled when he flashed a quick smile as he ducked his head.

Keep reading

Loyalty. Courage. Integrity.

Read on AO3


The front door to the apartment slammed shut, and Derek shouted out from the second-bedroom-turned-office, “In here!” 

He adjusted the glasses on his nose and continued to stare down at the paperwork spread out in front of him. Now, if he could only figure out what to do with his investment in-

Derek what the fuck!

Derek startled, dropping the papers down onto the desk and turning in his wheelie chair to face the door. Stiles stumbled over the threshold, his over-the-shoulder bag sliding off his arm and thumping to the floor. Derek winced in sympathy for the state of the laptop enclosed. His gaze raised backup to take in Stiles’ haggard appearance.

“Hard first day?” Derek guessed, taking his glasses off and tossing them gently onto the desk. He pushed himself forward with his feet and extended a hand towards Stiles. “You can vent, I have time to listen.”

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