A medium’s spirit doesn’t really go anywhere during channeling. It’s still inside their body, but it yields control to the other spirit. It’s sort of like how you can’t move while you’re sleeping.
That’s what I was taught in Kurain Village, at least. I’ve never been conscious while I was channeling someone, but who knows? Maybe there’s a way to sneak out of your body and see what the other spirit’s doing.
On second that, that really doesn’t sound like a good idea…
What techniques would the boys use to teach their kids how to swim?
Floating! Laying on your back while someone supports you underneath. Leo will progressively stop holding his child up once they are comfortable enough to float on their own, so this way they have no fear of going under.
Supporting his child’s body while they spastically move their arms and feet in the water. He zooms them around and keeps telling them “Kick your feet kick your feet! Move your arms!” Once they’re comfortable to try it on their own he lets go, but sticks close.
Starts them off with floaties. He’ll go to the other side of the pool and encourage them to swim over to him.
Doggie-paddle! Big splashes and a lotta giggles goes on, but it works. He doesn’t leave their side until he feels like they can do it on their own.
It was in elementary school when you first heard the phrase, “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” Of course as you grew older, you thought nothing of it, just a useless phrase that someone just came up with in order to feel better about themselves.
You soon came to realize that it was this phrase that kept you from breaking down, the once useless phrase giving you comfort in your exhausted state.
It’s not as if you could understand what they were saying, their mouths opening and closing with every syllable, jumbled words blowing past your ears. It was their faces that hurt you with every glance, their faces glowering with so much envy and desperation, it sent shivers throughout your body.
You hand’t expected your rap to turn out the way it did, which was most likely why you definitely hadn’t expected for your instructor to move you on to advanced rap. Advanced rap was the most prestigious rap class of the academy, it was known that only the best of the best rappers attended the exclusive advanced rap class. You knew that your rapping skills weren’t astounding, hell, you weren’t even a great rapper, but something about your rap yesterday had sent your ass skipping years worth of training.
Of course, this fact in itself did not please many of your fellow students. The most bothered by the news seemed to be the girl who had called you fat. She followed you around school, whispering angry words to those around who would listen. Unfortunately for you, most did listen. The rest of the day seemed to drag on as you were constantly being ambushed with vehement criticism, some which you were able to understand. You thought that maybe the commotion would have died down by today, but it only seemed to become a larger obstacle, holding you back from the peace you desperately desired.
Your train of thought is suddenly broken by a pounding bass.
Things that I learned in my first year at university
1. Some people are not there to work, they’re just joking around. Don't waste your time with them and try to meet the people that really care.
2. One semester passes at the speed of light. Start from day one and try not to let anything unrevised for too long (one week is considered too long).
3. Your teachers will be your saviors. They are the ones who know everything so make sure you have a good working relationship with them (let them see you know stuff and are willing to work) and then when you’re having more trouble learning something they will gladly help you.
4. Be consistent with your routine. A routine helps you get started more easily and defeat the inertia and laziness. Organizing my day as a working day, with study starting at 10 in the morning and classes in the afternoon, helps me focusing on the things I have to do, not waste time, and also have tiny pieces of time during the day to treat myself.
5. Treat yourself. Sometimes I take the bus instead of the metro because I like to watch the views. Sometimes I buy a cake for lunch. Sometimes I take a break in the park and, at the end of the day I go on a walk. Make sure you don’t forget yourself in the middle of everything. You’re the most important thing!
6. Find things that motivate you. A nice looking library, a park, a playlist, everything is valid as long as it makes you ready to work.
7. Choose your group wisely. When making group projects make sure you choose the people who really want to work, and if they don’t talk to your teachers, they will advise you. Also, don’t be afraid to make a group project on your own. You will survive, trust me! And you will learn a lot!
8. The front seat is the best. Choose a good seat in class where you can see and hear your teacher and they can hear you. The front seat is my favorite because it is easier to ignore everyone else and focus on the class.
9. Exercise. Really! Do something like walking every day, or yoga, or whatever you prefer, but make sure you move. It helps your brain and your body.
10. Have fun. At least every week or twice a month, go somewhere you like or visit a new place. Play the tourist and take your mind away from the work. That’s the way to keep your mind sane.
Here are some tips that help me draw people that look like actual people
References from the internet are good, but references you make yourself are better
Why tho? Because we know what we look like. How we move, what our body does when it twists and turns - we know our own bodies far better than any stranger’s. Taking pictures of yourself in crazy poses helps not only put your own personality into the characters you draw, it gives you a better understanding of anatomy and pose dynamics. Even if you aren’t a model, every human is expressive in their own way, and chances are the fact that you aren’t a model is going to put a lot more realistic depth and likability into your drawings. Why do you think folks at Disney, Laika and more depend on their own footage other than one’s handed to them?
Here are some of mine. I will embarrass myself for education.
Draw the human figure every chance you get
I know we don’t all have access to top notch figure drawing classes, but I’m assuming we all have friends (?) that would love to jump in and pose for us every so often. I try and do a session of 1 min poses daily before I start work on my comic. It helps my mind think three dimensional and it’s fun to see yourself improve as time goes on. PLUS you can always go back to a drawing you like and reference that in another drawing too! There are websites all over that have free image drawing sessions you can choose from. Or you can be a creep like I am and go sit in public places and sketch people from afar (or even just go up to them and ask to draw them, I find most people are flattered and don’t mind at all). A good idea is to switch every now and then between pencil and pen. I know, pen is scary, but so is growth. Go nuts.
These are from when I first started figure drawing. Don’t do what I did and leave out the hands/feet just because they’re hard.
Capture the pose now, add your own style later
I don’t want to start an art student fight on Tumblr, so I’ll just say this: Ya can’t add the pzazz if you don’t have the pza. If your foundations aren’t strong, guess what, you’re drawing is going to suffer. You can try and hide it with your own stylistic choices, sure, but anyone artist or not can look at a drawing and tell that something is “off” when you don’t have your fundamentals down. Take - your life drawing - seriously. I understand that not everyone LOVES to draw bottles and bowls for three hours, I get it. But if you can’t draw bottles and bowls in front of you correctly, how can you expect to draw bottles and bowls from your noggin correctly? Remember this equation: (Fundamentals)pza + (Your own thang)zz = pzazz.
Cute drawing, right? Wrong. This doesn’t even make sense. Let’s play a game called “how many mistakes can you see in this old drawing” of mine?
Accept that drawing people is the hardest thing to draw and take the time you need to make a good drawing
Whoever says that drawing people is easy is lying.
Ask all the professionals out there, drawing the human figure takes practice, practice, practice.
Folks who have been working at Disney for years are still required to enroll in company exclusive figure drawing classes daily. There are days I can whip out a model sheet in thirty minutes, then there are some days it takes me a good two hours to get a face to look right.You WILL learn the more you do it, but that’s assuming that you are dedicated and will set time aside every day to challenge yourself and take your work seriously. If you desire to go into the animation industry, or any art occupation for that matter, expect the people hiring you to ask you for figure drawings in your portfolio.
It’s definitely going to suck at first, but you will accidentally have fun, I promise. Okay folks, this whole sedentary lifestyle thing isn’t working anymore.
It’s definitely going to suck at first, but you will accidentally have fun, I promise.
Exercise is anything that elevates your heart rate or takes your body outside of its normal comfort zone- you don’t have to go to a gym to do either one
Don’t use exercise as an excuse to eat junk! Bad food decisions don’t cancel out.
Yoga/stretching is the easiest way to get your blood flowing with minimal effort
Running or biking is a close second
Consistency is way more important than cramming in 3 miles in one day
if you’re doing cardio, follow up with a cool down stretch or light jog. Take care of yourself!!
Exercise after your school/workday is over (instead of taking a nap). You’ll have more energy to tackle homework, and you’ll get a better night’s sleep.
Make a playlist filled with super bright and obnoxious songs. Works every time.
If you use the Pomodoro method to study, try to fit yoga/stretching into the breaks.
If “regular” exersize isn’t your thing:
Take 5-10 minutes to dance enthusiastically in your room, that’s so much better than nothing.
Get creative with your friends. Instead of meeting for coffee, go on a hike, frisbee in the park, etc.
Small things like taking the stairs instead of the elevator do add up.
If you drive, park a little farther away.
Keep track of your steps. My phone’s health app has a pedometer but they’re really cheap on amazon- please don’t splurge on a Fitbit.
Summary: He wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, but that couldn’t stop your heart from believing otherwise.
His lips were molded to yours, hands planted on your ass as you straddled his lap on your worn down sofa. A small grin spread on your lips as you leaned into him further, hands sliding their way up from his covered chest to his cheeks, tugging his head closer to yours, eliciting a smug smile on his lips.
The sound of something steadily beeping in your ear brings you back to the surface of consciousness. You wade through the murky waters of your mind, trying to keep your cool when the simple task of opening your eyes turns into a losing battle.
Why can’t you open your eyes? Why does your body feel so heavy?
You grow more frantic as your body fails to follow through on any of the commands you direct at it. It’s not until you realize that something is restraining your arms that an overwhelming tidal wave of memories wash over your body and send you back underwater.
After asking him he’d simply say “yes” acting as if it weren’t a big deal, but once you guys are watching it he’d get super turned on by the video itself, and the sight of your thighs clenching together, fidgeting.
“Come here” he’ll say while turning off the video and pulling your body underneath him.
He would be nervous at the thought of it but would agree to it. Instead of watching the video himself, he’d watch you the whole time instead. Enjoying the way your eyes fixate on the screen, and the way you squeeze your legs together under the blanket, he’d move incredibly close to (nearly hovering over) your body.
“Can we try something else?” He’d whisper while rubbing his hands between your thighs.
He’d act awkward at first towards the idea, but would eventually agree. While watching it, he’d imagine you two doing the same things to each other in the video, which would cause him to touch himself.His mind would race once he notices you touching yourself too.
“Lets do something else” he’d whisper in your ear while shutting the laptop"
He would be so turned on by the idea. He would be even more turned on by the sight of you rubbing your hand across your thighs while clenching them together, noticing that you are hesitating to touch yourself.
“I’ll help you” he’d whisper while pulling you closer to him right before his fingers slides into your underwear.
Watching porn while laying right next to you would be such a tease that he would get frustrated with you as you continue to watch the screen instead of paying attention to him as he touches you, clearly showing signs that he wants to spend the night doing something dirtier than watching a video.
Laying extremely close to each other while watching the video and not touching each other would not be enough. You’d both end up trying to please each other with your hands which wouldn’t be enough either. Soon he’d end up turning off the video and the night would end with both of you fucking.
He would eagerly agree, excited to try something new with you that’s dirty. While watching the video he’d get super turned on by your heavy breathing, and the sight of you biting your lip as he moves closer to you, which would be driving him wild.
“Can I touch you?” he’d whisper while planting kisses on your neck.
I was listening to spring day(piano version) while writing this, so if its not smutty enough, sorry
Note: this wasn’t a request, but I’m hoping this kick-starts my writing again. I haven’t had the motivation to write lately :( which sucks, but it happens ( a lot ). I hope you all are doing well! school is starting for some of you so I wish you the best! I’m just ready for Fall. also, Fall means cozy sweater!Seb. I’m very excited for that! but without further ado, enjoy this. feedback is welcome! .c
Your nightmare clawed at your eyelids,
your nails were digging into the sheet on the bed that had been
pulled from the top corners of your mattress. A light layer of sweat
lay on your skin, dampening the hairline on the base of your skull.
It took everything in you to wake yourself up. An ear-piercing scream
erupted from your chest and broke out of your dry lips, scratching at
your throat. You’d feel it later on, no doubt. You always did.
Your body quickly shot up, your breath
caught in your throat. As you looked around, you found yourself safe
and in your room - not in the torture chamber you had been kept in
for most of your teenage years. The memories plagued your thoughts
day in and day out. When it was time to sleep, that’s when the demons came
to play the most.
It was hard accepting Tony’s offer for
you to live in the Avenger’s compound. It wasn’t something you were
used to. In the base Hydra kept you in, you had to stay in a broom
closet, so it seemed, it was way too small. You were locked away like
a prisoner of sorts, used for testing – like a lab rat.
Eventually, you knew you had no other choice. They wouldn’t let you become homeless, and now that you had
been rescued, keeping you safe was their priority. Hydra was still out there. Everyone was easy to talk to, but more often than not, you chose to stay quiet or to yourself.
Your feet padded down the chilly
hallway as you made your way to the elevator. You knew sleep wasn’t
going to be on the agenda now. Something tugged at your gut and you
just needed to get out of your room. It’s like you could feel the
demons staring at you, ready to pull you under and drown you again. Taking
the elevator a few floors down, you exited and walked into the living
quarters. You were slow-moving, slightly swaying on your feet as
exhaustion swirled around your head.
surprise, you weren’t alone. You looked up at Bucky and met his blue eyes as he sat still in the
recliner; eerily still, like if he moved, his demons would pounce on
him. The lamp on the other side of the room was on, illuminating enough
light to see the details on his face.
It was covered in sweat and his eyes were bloodshot, the underside decorated with
dark circles. You knew he had nightmares and that they were the very reason he’s awake at such an unholy hour. Countless times you’ve heard his painful screams on the
floor above yours.
Steve had introduced the two of you when you arrived and he was just as quiet as you had been. There were walls built up and a sort of fear of being around anyone. He had simply shook your hand, muttering a small hello while keeping his metal hand out of the way. His past with Hydra was no secret to you.
Taking a seat on the couch opposite of
him, you sat in the middle with your knees pulled to your chest. You
hugged them close and kept your eyes on your feet. As you sat, you
could hear Bucky’s breathing slow down. It was heavy and labored when
you entered, and you found that yours had slowed as well. Being in
the same room as someone that had been through much of the same thing
as you, comforted you in some twisted way.
Neither of you spoke, neither of you moved from your spots, neither
of you dared to close your eyes long enough to be drug back down.
3:41am, one week later
It was as if lava had been poured on
your skin. You were burning, screaming as loud as you could with no
voice, the demons clawed and grinned devilishly as they ripped you to
shreds. Only when you shot up in your bed once again, was your voice found, a loud scream echoing throughout your room. Your chest
heaved and your fingernails nearly ripped through your sheets, the
soreness evident as you relaxed them.
You sat for a moment, taking in
your surroundings. Suddenly being in your room felt foreign and
unsafe. You took the elevator down to the living quarters again,
keeping your eyes on your feet. You took your usual spot on the
couch after switching on the lamp, pulling your knees into your chest. Your eyes looked for
Bucky, but he wasn’t to be seen.
Your thoughts were loud as you sat
alone. Your body was still slightly shaking and you couldn’t ignore the images that circled around your mind, until the faint sound of heavy
breathing sounded through the room. Your head snapped up and your
eyes landed on a rather shaken up Bucky. His chest was glistening with
sweat, his hair matted slightly.
The feeling of comfort washed over you
and you sighed softly, watching him take his seat in the recliner
again. His eyes remained on the ground as he leaned forward, his hands clasped together with his elbows on his knees. His hair fell around his face and you didn’t want to stare
at him any longer, but just as you were about to look away, he
glanced up at you through his lashes. No words were spoken, only a
short glance of eye contact was shared.
Until the morning sun rose, you two remained still and quiet.
2:17am two days later
You hadn’t slept. You stayed awake and wondered about
Bucky. The past few nights, you both stayed in the living quarters,
silent and un-moving after nightmares brought you both out of a deep
sleep. It was calming, but something made you want more, in a
non-creepy way. You wanted to help him, but you couldn’t even help
What happened to you both, haunted you
two to the point where closing your eyes even to blink seemed like a
horrible task. It made you nauseous. You wanted to speak to him, but
you could never find your voice. Especially after so many nights of
waking up from your own screaming.
You sighed and sat up in your bed,
feeling like you were going to suffocate in this room if you stayed
in it any longer. Slipping out of your door, you made your way to
the elevator. It arrived at the living quarters once again. Your
hugged your arms around yourself as you walked into the room. Out of
reflex your eyes went to the recliner. It was empty. You sank into
You turned towards the couch and was
shocked to see Bucky sitting on the side, his eyes on his
hands in his lap. He looked like he was deep in thought, and you
hadn’t heard his screams all night. You weren’t sure if you should
sit in your usual spot – the change in seating was odd –
so you made your way over to the recliner.
You heard a faint whimper come from
Bucky before you could sit down. It sounded desperate and broken; it
made your heart sink in your chest. You turned to look at him and his
eyebrows were creased, his hair framed his face and his eyes were
staring right at you. Did he want you to sit beside him? You bit your lip nervously as you stood there, unsure of your next move.
Taking any ounce of courage you could muster, you cautiously walked
over to the couch and sat down in the middle. Bucky
didn’t move and neither did you. You weren’t close enough to make
skin contact, but you were close enough to feel the body heat
radiating off of him. His breathing eventually slowed and you felt yourself
starting to fall into that wave of comfort. You felt safe and you only hoped
he felt the same way.
3:03am one week later
The closeness between you and Bucky felt natural. Many times you’ve found yourself wanting to hear his thoughts, to ask him if he’s okay, what
his nightmares are about, and if he felt any relief with you beside
him, like you felt. But you were scared that that itself was a dream,
as well. If you spoke, he’d disappear – all of it would disappear
and you’d wake up in the torture chamber.
Your body felt drained of it’s energy
tonight. Your nightmares only seemed to get worse. Your throat throbbed from your screams. It lasted longer and
you managed to rip your sheets up this time. It’s the worst nightmare
you’ve had, and that’s saying a lot. You were taken prisoner again,
but you weren’t alone. Bucky was there, tied up and tortured like you
had been. You screamed out and tried to save him, you did everything
you could yet nothing at all to get them to stop. You couldn’t move,
you were bound to that damned chair, needles poking into your skin,
injected with anything they came up with.
You entered the room and avoided looking at Bucky. You
knew you’d break at any moment. Crying wasn’t something you did, or
even wanted to do. It was a sign of weakness, you had been told. You
cried nearly every day during the time Hydra had you. Until one night,
you became numb and accepted your fate.
Bucky was exhausted, like he always
was. You heard his screams moments after you woke up. When they
stopped, you knew he was making his way here. His eyes followed your
body as you sat down on the couch. Your hands rest either side of you on the
cushion, your legs hanging off the edge.
Your breathing was ragged
and you could see Bucky’s head slightly turn, his blue eyes looking
down at you with a hint of worry. You kept your eyes straight ahead, trying to keep your tears inside.
Bucky watched your lip tremble and your eyes water, the rise and fall of your chest hiccuping in motion while you struggled to hold it together.
Your eyebrows creased as the images and screams flashed through your
mind. The look in Bucky’s eyes in your nightmare caused you to finally
break. A sob fell from your lips. The sound shot through Bucky and he looked
away slowly, biting his tongue. His heart broke at the sight and
sound of you breaking.
Your right hand had formed a fist and you
felt a touch of metal bump against the side of it. You gasped and
looked down, seeing Bucky’s hand resting palm down like yours had
been. His pinky nudged your hand and you sniffled, blinking away
tears as you un-clenched your fist. Both of your movements were slow
and you let his hand rest on top of yours. The cool metal
was nice against your heated skin. You
knew how hard this was for him, but both of you needed it. He knew that.
Flipping your hand over underneath his, you
watched him link your fingers together. You took a brave glance at
him and looked into his blue eyes. During your crying, he had
shed a few tears himself. Pain crossed his features as he held onto
your hand. His metal arm was something you knew he struggled with. It
wasn’t something he wanted. Neither of you had a choice in your past.
As time passed by, he relaxed into your touch and you did the same, gently tightening
your hold on him. His metal thumb slightly caressed your skin. All
through the night, you held onto his hand and listened to his deep
1:47am, three days later
Holding hands had become the new
“normal” for you and Bucky when you two sat in the living
quarters. It’s not intimate, or if it was, it was
only a slim percentage. Gentle human contact was something you had
been without for most of your life – you figured the same for
Bucky. Only tonight, you knew for sure he would need more contact. His
screams jolted you awake. For the first time, your nightmares hadn’t
been the thing that woke you up, or your own screams.
He was screaming continuously and
your body moved before you could think. You ran
towards your door, but stopped upon hearing something you never would’ve guessed he would yell. ”Y/N!” He was screaming your name. Your
hands trembled and for a moment, you couldn’t move at all. You were
stuck and planted, unable to move as you listened to Bucky scream for
In the short time you’d spent together in silence, a bond had formed. You felt it, you knew he did, too. When he appeared in your nightmares, you didn’t think you’d appear in his. But you were wrong.
A particularly loud scream jerked your
body back in motion. You started running as fast as you could to the
elevator, pressing his floor number. Luckily he was above you so
you’d get there quicker. Your breathing was fast and heavy, your own
nightmare still fresh. But you couldn’t think about that this time. Bucky
was screaming for you and you knew tonight was the night you needed
to focus on him, instead of the both of you.
You ran up to his door, the sounds of
his screams louder than ever. You opened his door gently and peeked
inside. He was writhing around, his metal arm gripping his pillow
before throwing it across the room. You rushed over to his bed and
leaned your knee on his mattress. “Bucky!” You whispered, not wanting to scare
him. If you did, that metal hand wouldn’t be gripping his other pillow. He was
screaming again and it hurt your eardrums but you had to do something.
Your hand reached out for his shoulder
and you shook it. “Bucky, wake up!” Your voice was firmer and
louder, it broke him out of his sleep and his breath hitched. He
jolted up, nearly knocking you off of his bed. You backed away
slowly, your hands shaking at your sides. He stared at you, not
believing it was you. His eyes were wide and his chest rose and fell rapidly.
“I’m here.” You whispered, your
bottom lip trembling again. A tear fell down your cheek as Bucky
reached his hand out towards you, his fingers trembling. Taking a step forward, your hand
slid into his. Before you could get onto his bed, Bucky pulled you
into his broad chest. It was damp with sweat but you didn’t care.
His arms held you close as he sobbed
into your shoulder. Your arms loosely rest around his neck, your
bodies rocking back and forth. “I’m here.” You cried, tangling
your hand into his long, damp, dark hair. He nodded against you, his
own sobs hiccuping as his hands gripped onto your shirt, his arms
nearly crushing you against him. You two stayed in each other’s arms,
holding onto the other as if it were the only thing that helped, the only thing that
kept the demons away.
Slowly but surely, your breathing
started to calm and match in rhythm. For once in both your lives, you
felt like everything would be okay; as long as you had each other to
(If you want to be added or removed, or if you’ve changed your URL and still want to be tagged, message me! Strike-through or no notification while your name is listed, it means I couldn’t tag you! check your settings! .c)
Request: anon: ok first i wanted to say that your writing is amazing and second i was wondering if you could do an imagine were the reader is a well known model an has a calvin klein photoshoot with tom holland and it gets steamy between the two and it ends with smut? i’m sorry if i was too specific
@permanentcross I told you it was coming soon, hopefully this will make a good little miniseries
“Bet yah taste sweet,” He purred in her ear before cleaning off one of his fingers and letting out a groan of his own. “Oh yah do love, best thing ‘ve ever tasted. Even better than those drinks yah make me. Although, guess it should be huh, after all it’s the nectar o’ the goddess. Why don’ yah go head and taste it.”
He held his other finger to her lips and Y/N seized the opportunity she saw. Her lips closed around his finger and she sucked firmly, running her tongue around it as she rocked her head back and forth slightly. Harry knew that if he fucked her right now that he was going to climax way too quickly, he had to prep her more, needed to get her all ready for his cock and build up her orgasm.
“Want to truly taste yah love. Got to taste the nectar o’ the goddess from the source.”
Y/N is a bartender who makes all sorts of drinks for Harry, but Harry’s favorite drink is Y/N’s juices
summary : peter parker may be a bumbling wreck around you most of the time, but when it comes down to it, his ability to shower you in his affections is unparalleled.
wc : 1.6k
author’s note : i took part of @iusethistoreadfanfics aka liz aka the sweetest person ever’s request and an anon’s request for a pretty boy part two and turned it into this :) can be read separately it’s not a /direct/ sequel.
There was a moment, when you and Peter were at a standstill between not quite dating yet not quite just friends, when he understood with the entirety of his heart that simply calling you his best friend was not enough, nor would it ever be. He remembers the way he does every memory that involves you; as if he were stepping back in time and reliving it, clear as day, still so fresh in his mind that it could have happened just twenty four hours ago.
It was still the summertime when it happened, albeit one week shy of September and two weeks until the start of tenth grade for the two of you. Nevertheless, it was August, and school had been the furthest thing from your mind when you had begged Peter to accompany you to the beach, just an hour’s ride on the train from his apartment to the Rockaways. He had argued that it was more September than August at this point, that the ride would take forever, but you had insisted and because it was you and he was just another lovestruck boy with an affinity for making you smile, he agreed. He hadn’t gone with the intention of actually basking in the sunlight or standing at the edge of the water the way he knew you would, he just enjoyed your company. Then, he saw you standing there on the sand, staring out into the ocean in a pensive sort of way, and maybe it was the way the summer sunshine was illuminating you in an odd sort of way, but he knew he was in love in that simple moment. In love with the little freckles that spotted across your shoulders and the huggable way your body had been shaped and in love with the everything and anything about you. He had been well aware of the strange limbo you were both in- acknowledged feelings for each other hanging there but neither of you making a move to shift the balance in favor of a romantic relationship.
He was floored, to say the least. He barely blinked when you looked back at him, smiling brightly at him. “What are you looking at it?” You had said, standing next to him. He raised a hand to trace over the little stars, the freckles, on your shoulder with his finger, an unabashed grin beginning to make its way across his face. You knew what he was he looking at, and he didn’t want to be embarrassed when he told you.
“You,” he had breathed, an ever dreamy sigh. “Always you.”
Pretending not to be as shy as you were quickly becoming underneath his intent gaze, you looked down at his hand, still sitting at your shoulder before dropping awkwardly to his side. You met his eyes again, and his cheeks were burning bright red despite the confidence he had found within himself. He was still the dorky, easily flustered Peter underneath it all. He just wanted to be capable of giving you a compliment without stumbling over his own words. “Why’s that? I know I need to start doing crunches again but-”
“Don’t even finish that sentence.” Without saying much else for fear of not being able to coherently explain how utterly stunning he found you, he took your hand in his and pulled you over to the water. You two sat down there, and he had wrapped his arm around you hesitantly, but it wasn’t in the friendly way he had done it all those years, and you both knew it. Peter leaned over to rest his head on your shoulder. “I don’t think we’re just friends anymore.” You nodded, turning your head to the side so you were face to face with him, your hand slipping under his jaw. “What do you think, pretty girl?”
It was the first time he had called you that, though it wouldn’t be the last, and you had known it from the second his eyes lit up at the way you had ducked your head to hide the shy grin on your lips and the pink blotches on your cheeks. His smile was dazzling before he kissed you, and yeah, maybe you loved dorky Peter, but the confidence was ever so endearing as well.
Every part of Peter was impossible not to love. Even the parts of him that lived to embarrass you endlessly.
He took pride in being the sole resident of your heart, and because of this fact, he was the only person to ever be capable of making you blush like he’s never seen. Of course, he was the champion of being blushing like mad after receiving a compliment, but sometimes, you had to relinquish your control and just let the boy call you every term of endearment under the sun and watch as his sweet smile shined for you alone.
Pretty girl was your weakness. It was the weak in the knees, flustered grin, shying away sort of weakness. The sort of thing that made you hide your face from him only to have your hands grabbed and pressed against his cheeks as he waited for you to look up at him again.
Naturally, he tried to say it as often as possible.
“Psstt, pretty girl,” he kept his voice at a whisper, "D’you have the geometry notes for today? Think I lost mine.” He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling when he saw you sink low in your chair in English class, staring down at your book.
“No.” You rested your elbow on the table, your cheek in your hand to hide most of the blush. “You have the notes. I saw you give them to Michelle. I need to get back to reading.” He nodded, plopping his own novel on his desk and propping it open, pretending to be reading when in reality he kept glancing back up at you. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing at all, pretty girl.” He laughed to himself as you placed your head on the table, and he laughed all the way to lunchtime as you blatantly tried not to look at him. Peter Parker is, however, unavoidable, no matter how hard you attempt to ignore his advances and happy little smiles when he catches you still all flushed pink from an earlier encounter, and in his head, he compares it to the blush of a rose petal.
After school, he meets you in front of your locker, leaning against the one next to yours like a dork and wiggling his eyebrows at you when you finally slam your door shut. “You’re coming over, right? You’re not too upset with me for making you all blushy and cute today in class? ‘Cause, like, really Y/N, if you were me, it would’ve been totally worth it. You were adorable.” Because it’s Peter, you can never be mad for too long, so you shake your head no and slip your hand in his. “Okay good, I wanted to get ya something.”
His surprise gift his a bouquet of pink roses that he says reminded him of you the moment they caught his eye early this morning, and he presents them with a long winded explanation of why to him, they were you. He watches your eyes crinkle at the corners, your hand squeezing his as your other hand takes the flowers from him. “Thank you, Peter. They’re- they’re very pretty.”
He shrugged, trying to play it off cooly even though inside he was utterly ecstatic that you had appreciated the flowers. He wasn’t always sure that he was getting this whole boyfriend thing down. “Pretty flowers, my pretty girl, no big deal.” But it was, at least to you. He holds your hand all the way to his apartment, enjoying the sunny glow on your cheeks that makes his own face burn in the best way.
May reminds you both to keep the door open when you get to his apartment, just because she’s the aunt and she has to remind Peter of those sorts of things, but neither of you mind.
He puts on his playlist for you when you drop your bag on his bed, motioning for him to come over and sit with you as Hearts Don’t Break Around Here softly fills the small room. Peter places his arm around you, the way he did three months ago at the beach for the first time when your feelings were new and wild and rushed. He starts singing quietly, always so shy about his voice even though he knows it’s your favorite thing to listen to. You can almost feel yourself falling asleep against him, but he shakes you gently to make sure you’re awake when he murmurs the next few lines. “Every night I’ll kiss you, you’ll say in my ear, oh we’re in love, aren’t we?” He lets Ed take over the remainder of the song as he looks down at you, and it’s a look that any girl or boy would fall for in a heartbeat. “We are, right? In love?”
“So in love,” you reply, kissing him soft as ever. Gentle.
“Good,” he whispered, his hand trailing over your face. “Sometimes I- I have to double check. Just make sure that I’m not… like, dreaming, or something. That I’m not driving you away with complimenting you so much, ‘cause I know you hate when you blush but I just can’t resist. You’re my sweet girl, my pretty girl. I need to tell you. Is that okay?” He’s got that nervous expression on his face again, so to put his mind at ease, you pull him against you again.
“Peter, that’s okay. As long as it’s you, it’ll be okay.” He relaxes under your careful touch, practically melting against you until you smirk a little and say, “I’ve got more of the power anyway, pretty boy.” And suddenly a red face Peter Parker is pulling away from you, furiously blushing and cursing the day he ever decided he was going to fall madly in love with you, except not really, because it was arguably the best day of his life.
Summary: You find yourself tied to a motel bed after losing a bet with Dean. A/N: Sorry guys! I wanted to get this up a bit sooner but I ended up not getting it done. Anywho. Here is is. Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: smut, language, oral (female receiving), slight dom!dean, lots of teasing, a tiny bit of over stimulation Word Count: 2,160
One of the few good things about having to dress up like FBI agents all the time was that suit ties did an excellent job of securing your wrists to the headboard of a motel bed. You and Dean were drinking the other night, made a bet –that you lost– and now here you were.
“I never took you for the dominating type.” you told him as you laid there already undressed as he tied you up.
“Well, if I’m being honest-” Dean began as he stood up to finish taking his own clothes off- “there’s somethin’ about you sweetheart.”
Your stomach felt as if it was doing back flips from his words and your eyes drifted south as he shredded his last piece of clothing, allowing his cock to spring free. You were certain you let out a whimper at the sight of him.. Dean was quite the sight to see.