they're just back there holding onto each other can they like

montponine  asked:

they don't start "dating" so much as they just. fall into a relationship and all of a sudden they're holding hands and spending a lot of time together and kiSSING(!?) and neither of them really knows when it started but they don't care. james says i love you to everyone bc he's v affectionate but when he says i love you to lily it's Different and everyone can hear it it's not i love you it's I Love You every time no matter how small the scenario it's always I Love You

James is pretty sure he’s been in love with Lily Evans since the beginning of fifth year but then he realises that’s not love because you can’t love someone you don’t know. She’s just very very very attractive. Then the Incident happens and he doesn’t know how he feels and Lily is even more in the dark because they were friends except for when he was a cock but now all she feels when she looks at him is burning burning burning.

The summer cools her off and she doesn’t expect him when she gets back. Well, she does, she just doesn’t expect so much of him. He’s grown, again, and she’s not sure if he’ll ever stop, and it suits him. There’s less tripping and squeezing under desks. Finally, he seems able to actually control all of his limbs. He can’t control his eyes though. James finds them wandering to her during lessons, lunch, once even a quidditch match. She’s so easy to spot with wine red hair and eyes which don’t seem to want to meet his, but do anyway. She keeps noticing things about him, things that weren’t there before. Or maybe she just never let herself notice them before? It happens all the time and she hates that she loves it.

It’s easy. Being friends. Like picking up a book your mum used to read to you at bedtime. You think you’ve forgotten the words, but they all come flooding back. That’s how it feels. To have his arm over her shoulders, to duel with him in DADA, to steal toast from his plate, to save the strawberry botts for her, to watch him and only him on the pitch, to share Potions notes, to throw parchment notes at each other in History of Magic, to borrow his scarf, to hold her hand to help her across boggy Scottish soil. All of it, everything - it’s natural.

People start assuming they’re together. They stop being Lily Evans and James Potter and become Lily and James, addressed as one. Sirius rolls his eyes and becomes bitter, interrupting conversations and not moving to allow Lily a seat. Mary and Marlene giggle and wink at her whenever she sits besides him, the traitorous gits. Everyone knows something is up. Except for them.

Then it’s summer again and he’s so far away and she’s too far away and they write. They write too much to go unnoticed, by friends and then by parents. Mrs Evans try to be nonchalant as she asks who all these owls are from. Mr Potter ruffles James’ hair when Sirius points out that James is spending more time replying to letters then he is playing quidditch. There’s talk of meeting up, but it never happens. Lily never quite manages to draw up the courage to tell James which bus route to take. James always fails to write down where the spot for apparating to is. So they go all summer never seeing each other, except in familiar g’s and friendly scribbles which Lily has to spend ages deciphering into something legible.

September comes and they’re both wearing their badges and neither one is surprised but both are slightly hurt the other didn’t mention it. Excuses are useless so they just say well done and attempt to organise the prefects, even though Remus spends the whole meeting making suggestive gestures at one of them when the other isn’t looking. And nothing has changed. Except James is taller, again, and Lily’s hair is shorter and her boobs are bigger (but James definitely hasn’t noticed that), but they’re the same. No one blinks twice when they’re the only two left in the common room. Everyone is used to seeing them together, heads bent close, people uncertain if they’re discussing rotas or the latest transfiguration journal. It becomes customary that if Lily’s the only one on a sofa, the other half is reserved for James. If James falls asleep with her head in her lap, there’s nothing unusual about it.

People call them a couple and they don’t think to correct them, not having discussed it but sort of knowing anyway. She kisses him goodbye outside the Three Broomsticks once, a peck on the cheek, the Marauders going onto Zonko’s and the girls visiting Honeydukes. He blushes but she doesn’t and then that’s a thing too. It doesn’t take long before the kisses are on the forehead, the nose, the lips. Always gentle, quick and not really anything of note except, every time lips brush skin, their hearts race faster. So no one’s surprised when, with the excuse of mistle toe, a short and swift kiss becomes a long, soft and languid one. (Until Peter throws a cushion at them.)

They’re dating, going out, boyfriend and girlfriend. They’re every synonym for together and they’re happy. Every inch of them says ‘I love you’, but they never say it. And then they do. And it just happens, and their hearts beat faster, and their breath comes short, but they’re not surprised. They know, everyone knows, how could they not be in love? James says it first, casually and then not casually at all. Lily says it back, into his neck, his lips, his heart, both of them smiling like they’ve been given the sun on a string.

So they’re in love and it’s a shred of light in a world which keeps getting extinguished around them. They’re not sure how or when it happened but it did and when they have nothing they have each other, because that’s just how it is.

ambitiouswitch17  asked:

Imagine Tony don't liking to be close/being touched by Steve after CW but the guys keeps insisting until Natasha calls him out on it (Protective Natasha, please!)

Oh, I like it! I struggle a lot with Nat’s role in CW (to be fair, I struggle with everyone’s roles in CW), but I’m gonna try :) Here goes nothing: 

It doesn’t start in New York. By the time they finally get back to New York–it takes three months longer than Natasha initially expected–she’s already close to the end of her rope, only the merciless training of her childhood keeping her from completely losing it. Because Wakanda may be a nice place, a pleasant exile even, but she has to spend five months listening to Lang’s whining, Clint’s endless complaints, Steve’s tragically upset stares into nothingness–or at a phone that doesn’t ring, and really, she could’ve told him that from the start–and Wanda’s temper tantrums.

Also the amount of biting replies she swallows down ought to have killed her by now. They were poisonous enough for sure.

So getting back to New York, to their old compound, is a relief. It means Natasha can avoid the others for weeks if she tries–and boy does she try, she’s seen far too much of them lately. It helps. The lack of a golden cage helps all of them, eases some of the tension, but it doesn’t solve any of their problems.

And there are problems, and not just between Tony and the others, or her and the others either. There are a lot of issues that have never been resolved, arguments they couldn’t have when they were all scooped up in Wakanda and unable to stay out of each other’s way for long. Coming back, signing documents that are pointedly not called The Revised Accords, it’s like slapping a bandage on an inflamed wound so you don’t have to look at it anymore, and hope it will heal.

But every now and then they accidentally brush against said untreated wound and the pain flares up again, reminding everyone that it’s there and it’s staying.

Like when Clint calls Laura and she lets it go to voicemail. Or when Sam tries to ask about how Rhodey is doing without making it awkward, and fails spectacularly. Or when Tony flinches away from Steve.

It’s only the last one though that really gets Natasha’s blood boiling. It’s there right from the start, when Tony symbolically shakes Steve’s hand, and even though he’s smiling, his body is all tense muscles ready to jump. It doesn’t get better after that.

There are moments where Steve tries to reach out that are almost physically painful to watch. When he rests a hand on Tony’s shoulder and the poor man almost jumps out of his skin for example (they’ve lost a lot off cups to that particular move). Or when Steve always picks the seat closest to Tony, only to have Tony be tense and defensive thorough the whole meeting. The list goes on.

Steve isn’t doing it out of cruelty, that much Natasha is willing to grant him. He’s honestly, desperately trying to fix things between them, bridge the unacknowledged gap in the team. He’s apologised multiple times–and he’s meant every word of it. But the thing is? Regret isn’t going to change the past.

And Steve, Steve is so focused on fixing, he doesn’t even seem to realise that all he really does when using force, is break. Because it’s so clear, written all over Tony’s face and body language, how uncomfortable he is, and yet Steve keeps pushing and pushing, for a resolution that can’t happen by backing Tony into a corner.

The issue comes to a head when Steve tries to hand Tony a plate with a piece of apple pie. It’s an innocent enough action on the surface, but Natasha can see Tony literally freezing in place. And really, it’s anything but innocent in every way that matters.

“Grow up, Stark!” Clint mutters from somewhere behind her, and really, that’s not helping. She’s going to kick his ass for that later. “Just take the damn plate!”

Tony doesn’t though. His wide eyes flicker back and forth between the plate Steve’s holding out with a pleading expression and the door he’s probably thinking of escaping. Being put on the spot like that only makes it worse, makes the slight tremble in his hands more visible and Natasha’s had enough.

“Give me that!” she snaps, rips the plate out of Steve’s hand and throws it onto the ground. The plate shatters. Steve gapes at her but she doesn’t even let him get the question out. “I’m sick of this shit you’re pulling here!” she continues in a righteous fury that’s been building up for six months. 

“You need to back up, Steve! I don’t care how many times you’ve tried to reach out to Tony, you don’t have a right towards his friendship or his trust and you’ve done fucking shit to earn it! You need to learn to respect his feelings instead of bulldozing past them just because they don’t happen to suit you! Because you know what happens when you push? This!” She points at the mess of pie and shards at her feet. “And you know what you do when you make a mess? You apologise and clean it up! And you don’t use force to do it!”

She’s breathing hard by the end of her rant, but when she turns around to face Tony, the hesitant smile on her face is genuine. “Let’s get out of here,” she says, and it’s a question filled with all the things she hasn’t been able to voice.

Tony doesn’t reach for her the way he used to, stays out of her reach, but he smiles, just as hesitantly, and nods. “Lead the way,” he says, and they’ve got a lot to talk about and even more to work through, but it’s a start.

“Aren’t you gonna clean that up?” Clint yells somewhere behind them. Natasha doesn’t even bother to turn around.

“I haven’t seen anyone else taking responsibility for the mess they’ve made,” she throws over her shoulder with all the sugary pleasantness of a Black Widow about to reveal her true face. “Why should I?”

There’s no answer but then she didn’t expect one anyways.

hoot-eggs  asked:

Can I ask for how UT, UF Sans and US Paps react to their crush coming into their room and slips under the covers and doesn't say a word when the skelly wakes up but their crush starts tearing up because they just really needed a hug and hopes the skelly doesn't see them as a burden?♡ Thanks so much!!

(* No problem!  And might I say, thank you for all the likes.  It makes me so happy that you’re enjoying these! <3 )


Sans doesn’t even wake up when you crawl into bed with him.  He shifts toward the new warmth, and snuggles in deeper under the covers, becoming a tangled mess of limbs with you.  It takes a moment, but slowly, he becomes aware that something’s off about his bed, and he starts to wake up.  By the time his eyelights find your teary eyes, he has to blink several times to make sure he’s really awake, that you’re really in both his bed and his arms.  

… He didn’t drink too much at Grillby’s last night, did he?  

He feels the slight tremble in your body, and he can’t help but respond to the way your arms tighten around him.  He’s observant enough to know that you’re upset, and his SOUL clenches at the thought.  "you ok, buddy?“  His voice is still thick with sleep, and he’s a little groggy, but he holds onto you tightly.  Did something happen?  Was it his fault?  His mind is racing, trying to play back everything that’s happened recently, but he’s drawing a blank.  "it’s ok.  everything’s all right.”  They’re the words he always wanted to hear himself, so they’re the only way he knows how to help.  Well, that and just staying like you are, holding onto each other.  

He gently presses his teeth to your temple in a comforting skeleton kiss and reiterates, “everything’s all right.”


Red is instantly awake the second you enter his room, so as soon as you pull back the covers, his eyelights are alert and on you.  He’s tense because no one just comes into his room without warning for anything good, but.. when he realizes it’s you, he relaxes, a grin spreading across his face.  Heh.  He must still be dreamin’; why else would you be sliding in close and holding onto him?  Instantly, his arms are around you, pulling you against his chest, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck.  "i could get used to this, ya'know?  feel free to wake me up like this more often.“  He sounds pleased, his smirk evident in his voice.  

He starts to fall back asleep, perfectly content to be tangled with you, when he feels something damp against his cheek.  Automatically, he freezes.. and slowly pulls back to look at your face.  He glimpses the tears and internally starts cursing.  Why didn’t he notice something was wrong immediately?  "sweetheart…?”  His voice is unsteady and soft, a stark contrast to its usual gruff tone.  "hey, what’s the matter, huh?  don’t cry, ok?“  

You don’t have to explain anything to him.  Red gathers you close and rocks gently in the bed, lightly rubbing his hand along your back.  After a while, he starts to hum, the sound vibrating through his ribs, and he hopes that it’ll help lull you to sleep.  In his experience, Bad Nights tend to ease up in the mornings.  And he’ll stay like that with you for as long as you need.  


Stretch grunts when he feels the bed shift.  He’s unconcerned with who it could be since he’s used to Blueberry winding up in his bed if his brother ever has a nightmare.. however, when he feels your arms wind around him, he knows it’s not his brother, and he’s suddenly wide awake.  It takes him a second longer than usual to process what’s happening, but when he does, he slides an arm around your shoulders and tries to locate a clock.  Whatever time it is feels too early to be sentient.  "hey hun.  so what’re yo–”  The query dies in his throat.  He notices something’s amiss right away, and he immediately rolls onto his back and pulls you halfway onto his chest.  Both of his arms wind around you.  "hey, what’s wrong?  you didn’t have a nightmare, did you?“  The question is light, though his lazy grin is lop-sided.  He’s trying not to make a big deal out of it because he doesn’t want you to feel like you’re being a bother.

“shh, it’s ok.  i’m right here.  just relax.”  The phalanges of one hand stroke the back of your head, while his other hand lazily skims along your back.  He won’t pressure you to talk about it; he’ll hold onto you as long as you want.  Though, later, he’ll casually mention that he’s always around if you need to talk, no matter what time it is.  

anonymous asked:

This is so extra™ but is there any way you could write a smut fic as a continuation of the last scene with Alex and Maggie, where they're both incredibly turned on by each other and they can't help but get it on at the DEO

“So, arm candy, huh?”

“I mean have you looked in a mirror lately, Danvers?”

“Ugh, not lately, god Maggie, I probably look like hell.”

Maggie stops walking and Alex almost stumbles, but Maggie steadies her as she looks up at her gravely.

“You look perfect, Alex Danvers. Perfect. As always.”

Alex’s eyes flit down to Maggie’s lips, and Maggie is a detective.

So she detects.

And she bites her own lip and tries not to gulp.

Alex is a secret agent.

So Alex notices.

“Maggie,” Alex whispers, and her voice is ragged, and Maggie needs her.


“Tell me, Agent Danvers. Does being so newly reinstated mean you’re opposed to um… reminding your girlfriend what it’s like when you go rogue?”

Alex practically growls, and Maggie swoons.

“Say for example… right now? I mean this place has to have supply closets or something, ri – ”

Her sentence is lost as Alex tugs her forward, and if Maggie were anyone else, she wouldn’t notice Susan Vasquez subtly raising an index finger to point Alex in the direction of a room where the cameras were currently experiencing an inexplicable glitch.

But Maggie isn’t anyone else. She sees the gesture, and she mouths her thanks, and Susan just winks.

Alex doesn’t stop tugging on her arm until they’re reached supply room number 237, apparently, and they’re barely through the door before Alex has Maggie pinned against it, chest already heaving with need.

“Color?” she demands, and her voice is as rough as her eyes.

Because she was just almost flung across the galaxy.

She almost just lost this woman staring up at her with soft lips and eager eyes and desperate hands.

“Neon green, Al,” she rasps, and Alex practically lunges.

Her mouth, her teeth, her hands, are everywhere at once – Maggie’s lips, her throat, her chest (because Alex checks in with her eyes and when Maggie whines and nods desperately, Alex makes quick work of her shirt, of her bra), her stomach.

“Fuck me, Alex,” Maggie begs, and Alex growls as she picks her up effortlessly, and Maggie wraps her legs around Alex’s waist and her arms around Alex’s neck and Maggie screams, because Alex is holding her up with one arm and fucking her with the other hand and Alex is biting down onto her neck and Alex is crying and Maggie is crying but both of them keep reminding each other, green, green, green, please don’t stop, more, please, Alex, yes, fuck, more, harder, fuck, Alex, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, mine, mine, mine, mine, and Alex isn’t satisfied with Maggie only cumming once, twice, three times, drenching her fingers and staining her underwear and leaving scratches all across Alex’s upper back.

“Let me get you home,” she rasps, and Maggie nods, and Alex makes a show of licking her fingers clean and Maggie whines and writhes and tries to kiss her, but Alex shakes her head.

“Home,” she says, because she wants to go home, but also because she is home. 

Maggie knows, and she steps forward and hugs her, just hugs her, hugs her long and solid and safe and loving.

They might hug longer than they’ve fucked – neither of them are quite sure – but eventually Alex helps her get dressed, lethal fingers suddenly tender again, burning eyes suddenly soft and shy and timid again.

Until, that is, they get home.

Because Maggie glances at the way Alex’s leather jacket is unzipped just low enough that she can start to see her cleavage, and Maggie gulps, and Alex notices.

Of course Alex notices.

And she sweeps everything unceremoniously off the kitchen island and bends Maggie over on top of it.

“All good, babe?” she asks, even though she’s already read the answer in Maggie’s wrecked eyes.

“Don’t stop,” Maggie prays, and Alex promises to oblige. But some business first.

“Be a good girl and strip for me, Maggie,” she orders, and Maggie gasps at the command in her tone, at the confidence in her voice, at the authority in her heady gaze.

The authority, the determination, the audacity, the brazenness, that had been turning her on all day.

And while Alex was in agony – while she herself was in agony – she’d kept it to herself as much as she could.

And they’re both still in agony, but Alex’s roughness is an escape and Maggie’s compliance is a balm, and their skin touching skin is heaven on earth, and they’re safe, safe, safe, safe.

For now.

So they use it for all it is, and Maggie strips for Alex slow, strips for her determined, strips for her deliberate. She never takes her eyes off of Alex’s hungry ones, and the nearly feral look on Alex’s face is reward enough.

Enough, that is, until Alex has her begging for more, because Alex has turned her around again, has bent her over again, is slipping inside her again, is whispering how beautiful she is, what a good girl she is, supporting Alex like that all day, is this a good enough reward, how wet she is, how tight she is, how perfect she is, into Maggie’s ear, and Maggie comes completely undone in Alex’s strong, solid arms, backing up wildly against Alex’s strong, solid body.

And when Alex carries her to bed and presses kisses against every hickey, against every birthmark, against every old scar and every new bruise, Maggie knows only one thing in the entire multiverse:

That she is in love with prodigal-DEO-agent-gone-rogue-loyal-daughter-perfect-sister-gorgeous-ruthless-determined-genius-unrelenting Alex Danvers.

And she’s pretty damn sure Alex Danvers is in love with her, too.

Which is why Alex lets her crawl on top of her.

Why Alex wants her to crawl on top of her.

Because after a day of being impenetrable, of being almost worryingly hard-headed, of being a coiled muscle, a veritable force of nature, Alex is in love.

Alex trusts her.

Trusts her enough to let her guard down.

Trusts her enough to believe that letting Maggie give her back what Alex just gave to her doesn’t make her weak and it doesn’t make her less.

It makes her loved.

“You want this, sweetie?” Maggie asks, and Alex just arches her hips up so Maggie can strip her naked.

“Oh, Ally,” she whispers as she catalogues every new bruise, every fresh cut, painted onto Alex’s torso, onto her arms, onto her legs.

And Maggie kisses each one of them, memorizes their locations, their severity, in a map in her mind, so she will know exactly how to move when she does what she does next, what Alex is starting to whine for, what Alex is starting to grind her hips up for.

“Alex, you – “

“Yes, Maggie. Please.”

And Maggie obliges.

She starts slow, but she doesn’t end slow.

She starts soft, but she doesn’t end soft.

Because Alex begs her for more and Alex begs her for harder and Alex begs her for faster, please, please, Maggie, god, fuck, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, fuck just like that, god, fuck, Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, please don’t stop, please please please.

She shifts so her thigh is between Alex’s legs, and she groans as Alex grabs at her ass and bites at her shoulder as she pulls her down, harder and harder, closer, closer, struggling to find friction because Maggie’s thigh is so slick with how wet Alex is, and she kisses Alex’s hair and puts one hand behind her head and braces herself with the other and times her movements perfectly with Alex so that proximity, rhythm, outweighs friction and Alex is so wrecked underneath her that Maggie forgets what air is, that she can have this effect on a woman so powerful, so ruthless, that she single-handedly infiltrated and exploded Cadmus’s lair, and that woman cums screaming Maggie’s name and it’s almost more than Maggie can handle, because even without direct pressure, she cums again, too.

“I’ve got you, Ally,” she whispers, kissing her face as Alex shudders through the last waves of her orgasm. “I’ve got you.”


“Ride or die, Danvers. Ride or die.”

6 Sarcastic Guys’ Conversation.

6 SARCASTIC GUYS’ CONVERSATION (SEVERAL FANDOMS CROSSOVER): Fanfic? (because I wanted to write this ever since I saw a post similar to this)

Who’s in the house?

-  House

-  Jack Sparrow

-  Tony Stark

-  Sherlock

-  Dean Winchester

-  …?

What do they have in common?

(You don’t have to know all of the characters)

Narcissism, sarcasm, some are genius’, most are experts in their work, all of them have drinking/drug dependencies, most have childhood issues and are secretly full of angst, etc.

Summary: This is just them, trapped in a room together, with no idea how they got there or how to get out. There may be more characters to come…

Warnings: Not much, a bit of swearing.

Comments are well appreciated (nice comments, helpful comments etc.)

Part 1

Jack: Now, the real question remains: Where is the rum?

House glared at him.

House: That’s not the real question, dumbass. I wanna know what the hell we’re doing here.

Tony: Maybe it’s a house party.

Sherlock is bent down by the door, his nose alarmingly close to the floor.

Tony: Ok, curly, what’re you doing now?

Sherlock looks up frowning, realising he’s being addressed.

Sherlock: I’m checking to see what substances there are in order to determine where we are, which is a lot more than any of you lot are doing.

Tony: *huffs* Well, excuse me, princess-

House: There’s no way of getting out of here.

House is sat by the window, and everyone looks up to him. He motions to the window with his cane.

House: These windows are fake. That door is impenetrable, the walls are made with considerable strength, as we’ve found out, and none of us geniuses have any idea why we’re here, where we are, how we got here, or who sent us here.

Everyone was quiet.

Jack: Well, I for one, am not a genius – just to clarify.

Sherlock sighs and sits up against the wall.

Tony: Find anything?

Sherlock: No. There’s no evidence, no substances, no clues – just nothing.

He looked sullenly ahead.

Tony: Well, my Iron Man suit should be here anytime now.

Sherlock: It’s not going to work…

Tony screwed his eyes at him.

Tony: Well, I don’t think your ‘sniffing around’ is exactly doing to much to solve this problem either-

Jack: Ok, ok, ladies, lets settle down, shall we? Look, we only have each other in this neat room of ours, and if we start fighting, it all goes downhill from there, and frankly, I think we’d all know who would be the only one standing after that.

Jack smiled smugly to himself.

House sighs and mutters something like ‘imbecile’.

Jack: What was that now?

Sherlock looked over as House sighs, and rubs his leg with his hand, his cane to the side.

Tony: What happened to you?

House looks up and replies sarcastically: I tripped.

Tony: Well don’t get your knickers in a twist, Doc, I was only asking.

Sherlock: He got shot.

House looked over to him.

House: How the hell do you know that?

Jack: Oh, God, don’t ask him for an explanation, I’m beggin’ you.

Sherlock: Well, it’s clear from the way he holds his leg that he’s in obvious pain-

Jack: Here we go..

Sherlock, ignoring the interruption: and he’s used to it according to the heavy bags under his eyes from sleepless nights, and he’s bitter, a sign of long-lasting pain, so why wouldn’t you do something about it? Well, it’s obvious he’s tried drugs-

House: Shut the hell up.

Sherlock: – takes one to know one – but they didn’t work out, did they? Got too dependent on them, so now you just have to take the pain – and by yourself – I mean, it’s obvious that you’re lonely.

House stands up with his cane: I said SHUT UP!

He went over to Sherlock and squared up to him.

Tony and Jack looked at each other wide-eyed.

House: You think you’re some big genius, who can just figure everyone out by one look-

Sherlock: Well, yea, pretty much-

But suddenly there was a big BANG as the door came flying inwards.
They all shielded themselves as the door was smashed down and smoke covered them, some of them coughing, as Sherlock quickly walking over the new body that was now on the floor, coughed through the smoke and went through the door, just to see another door a few feet behind it.

Sherlock: Dammit.

House looked around.

House: Everyone alright?
Jack: Just dandy

House grimaced as he put his cane down and knelt to the man on the floor, turning him onto his back so they could see him, Tony kneeling next to him.

Tony: You know him?

House: Nope.

House leant down to check the man’s breathing, when suddenly he snapped up and looked around frantically, his golden necklace swaying across his chest.

Man: What the hell – oh, son of a bitch.

He held onto his head, wincing slightly and cursed to himself.

House: What’s your name? Do you know how you got here?

Sherlock and Jack crowded round to listen.

Man: Name’s Dean Winchester. And I have no clue, man.

anonymous asked:

Hello, can you write headcanons for Todoroki, Uraraka and Shinsou when their s/o loves watching horror movies with them, but also gets scared really easily so they're squeezing them throughout the whole movie? I hope this makes sense, thank you for your time ♥

Hello lovely! And don’t worry, I think it made perfect sense =) I very much hope I could write this well enough and that you’re going to like it <3


- He’s a bit confused as to why his partner loves watching something that simultaneously scares them as much, but he goes along with it. If they enjoy it, he doesn’t mind it at all and he lets them show him their favorite movies first.

- His partner most likely won’t get him to watch movies that favor the gore part too much, since he finds it more distasteful and prefers to avoid those movies. Horror movies themselves aren’t really that high on his favorite movie list, though they are fine and Todoroki enjoys spending time with his partner, so he doesn’t mind watching more of them.

- Aside from that though, Todoroki readily lifts an arm so his partner can hide or cuddle against his side and he makes sure to hold onto them as they get scared.

- He doesn’t mind his partner grabbing his hand or arm or shirt at all, though should they squeeze hard enough to stop the blood flow, he gently urges them to loosen their grip or to hold on to something else, so the feeling can return to his limb.


- She’s all for watching horror movies, though there is a good chance that she can get just as scared as her partner.

- Should she get just as scared as them, she’ll clutch them right back, getting their legs tangled together and their sides or chests pressed against each other.

- If she doesn’t get scared, she’s always there to open her arms so her partner can snuggle up against her or hide their face away against her shoulder, while she hugs them close.

- Ochako only says something if her partner holds on a bit too hard or if she wants to adjust her position to something more comfortable. Aside from that, she doesn’t mind her partner holding on to her at all. If anything, she encourages it.


- He’s rather relaxed about horror movies, though he finds gore to be less to his tastes. Still, he doesn’t watch them a lot, so if his partner would like to watch them with him, they would have to wait until he’s in the mood for one of them.

- As soon as Shinsou notices his partner getting scared, he gives them light tugs or lifts an arm to encourage them to lean against him or to cuddle up to him.

- He loves wrapping them up in his arms, it doesn’t matter if he’s not into the movie or they are entirely engrossed with the plot, just feeling their warmth is something that makes him secretly happy and soothes him.

- Aside from that, he tends to comment on horror movies from time to time, especially if he knows them. Sometimes, he unintentionally kills the scare-factor by pointing out something ridiculous and causes his partner to break out into startled laughter.

anonymous asked:

Sometimes people talk about their FP and abusive thoughts because they're horribly intrusive and sometimes venting those and seeing other people relate to that can be really gratifying. It takes a lot of strength to live with intrusive/abusive thoughts and hold them back, and when I express them on tumblr I just want to fling them out into the infinate void of the internet- I don't act on them.

ive been through this discourse so many times im so tired lmao but news flash some things just arent meant to be shared. ever think of that ?? ever think about how the reason theyre bad impulses and thoughts is because it would hurt people if they knew about them ?? ever think about by sharing them and making them #relatable, you’re validating each other’s abusive/damaging behaviors and normalizing them and eventually you get a toxic cesspool that results in things like impulseoftheday that posted people’s rape fantasies and racism and people who actually think its okay to be manipulative.

this is how you cultivate abusers. this is how you teach mentally ill children use their mental illness as an excuse to hurt others. this is how you normalize immoral and disgusting behaviors. you want to feel gratified for having horrible intrusive thoughts ?? why ?? suck it up and acknowledge that these impulses are inexcusable. you dont get to feel good about them. they shouldnt be relatable.

the internet is not a void. by talking about all this bullshit so casually, this culture of normalizing bigotry, abuse, and destructive symptoms grows and fucking grows. i was manipulated, backstabbed, and kicked out onto the street by a couple of people with this fucking mindset. one of them reblogged from impulseoftheday talking about wanting to murder me and my friends bc i was friends with his FP and he had to be the center of attention. and his excuse? Lol.

to whine about how “theyre bad thoguhts but i have to get them out somewhere :-(”

no you dont. it’s not that hard. dont give me that shit about “it takes a lot of strength to live with”, as someone who deals with this shit myself, it actually is remarkably easy to not click that “new text” option on tumblr dot com and make an ~edgy relatable~ post about the latest trendy manipulation tactic that y’all just love to spread around like its nbd bc ur mentally ill uwu

stop validating impulses and thoughts that dont need or should ever get validation. want to feel better about yourself ? stop moaning about how much you want to abuse people and actually start working on correcting and improving your behavior.

anonymous asked:

a fluff therapy request for whenever you're looking for prompts again? i would love some tummy loving -- either will's or hannibal's -- after they've added some softness now that they're not constantly fighting for their lives any more. i've been feeling really self-conscious lately about my weight due to some projects going on where lots of people see me, & it would be so nice to read our murder nerds appreciating in each other something i'm worried about in myself. :\

I think being self conscious of your tummy is something a lot of people can relate to nonny, myself included. I’m sorry this took so long to get to but I hope it helps regardless. <3

Will woke to the sun in his eyes, lips on the back of his neck, and a hand rubbing circles into his abdomen.

“What are you doing?” Will mumbled, leaning back into Hannibal’s warmth.

“I’m holding you,” Hannibal said. “I’m appreciating your form.”

“You’re rubbing my belly.”

“I am. Would you prefer that I stop?”

“I don’t know… I guess not.”

Between the weeks spent bedridden, the sedentary months spent hidden away, and Hannibal’s insistence they eat dessert every day after dinner, Will was fuller in the middle now than he’d ever been. His size small t-shirts pulled tight across his abdomen when they were fresh from the dryer. Several pairs of jeans he’d acquired only months ago no longer fit.

“You’re self conscious of your weight gain.”

Will’s cheeks reddened. He turned his face into the pillow. “I’ve just never been this… big before.”

“Your weight still falls within the acceptable range for your height and age.”

“I should start exercising more.”

“It is my hope that whatever you do, you do it for your own satisfaction, never my own.” Hannibal’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of Will’s belly. “I find you no less desirable in your current form.”

“You can’t possibly find pot bellies sexy.”

Will suddenly went cold at the loss of Hannibal at his back. Before he could think to protest, the covers were being pulled away, and Hannibal was pushing him onto his back.

Hannibal straddled Will’s thighs and bent down to press a kiss just below his navel. “This is a sign of a body well loved,” he said, pressing another kiss just above to the first. “A life being lived to the fullest.”

Will smiled, face still burning. “I’m going to pretend that isn’t a pun.”

Hannibal nuzzled into Will’s middle. “I’ll go make us breakfast. Stay here. Let me bring it to you.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to fatten me up.”

Teasing, Hannibal dragged the blunt edges of his teeth across Will’s flesh before pulling away. “I’ll be back shortly. Sleep a bit more if you’d like.”

Will sighed and sprawled out in the middle of the bed once Hannibal was gone. An echo of Hannibal’s touch, Will rubbed circles into his own belly. It rumbled in anticipation of the meal to come. He smiled and allowed himself to doze, arm draped lightly across the softness of his middle.

[hannigram fluff therapy]

anonymous asked:





“I’m just saying that if like, you and Eleana didn’t work out for whatever reason, we could get married. I’d be down for that.”

Felix finished his profession of love with a large wretch into the toilet. Kaden patted his back in sympathy, and wiped his forehead again with a damp cloth. Kaden had never experienced a drunk Felix before in person, and he was wickedly delighted about how funny it was. 

“It would work well. We never fight, and you could cook and I could clean. Not to mention how you could keep me warm on these long winter nights.” Kaden teased.

He left Felix groaning on the floor, too wasted to move, and went to prepare his bed. He may never have slept in one himself, but damn him if he couldn’t make one. It was a skill he’d had plenty of time to master, he did it all the time for his brothers, and he found that it was much more satisfying when you did it for someone you actually like.

Once he had made the bed – he’d had to strip the sheets, there was a suspicious stain that he didn’t agree with – and pulled back the covers enough to put Felix in, he returned to find his friend trying, and failing, to undress himself. Now he was just flailing around with his shirt half off his head and his pants around his ankles. Kaden had to cover his mouth to help hold back a laugh at the ridiculous sight. He was going to help Felix undress anyway, but seeing the drunk Fae-Illyrian attempt it himself while this intoxicated was something Kaden didn’t know he needed until this moment.

“I’m stuck.” Felix deadpanned.

“I can see that.”

“Are you going to help me?” He whined. Felix couldn’t see Kaden because of the shirt covering his face, but Kaden could see Felix’s tongue from where he was licking his shirt to try and get it off. Because, you know, that is far more effective than using one’s hands.

“What will I get in return?” Kaden didn’t want anything, he was just curious as to what Felix would say.

“Hmmm. Hm. Hm hm hm hm hm. How about I winnow those letters to Eleana for you? Just think. Sad Eleana. Hurt Eleana. Then boom! Letter from Kaden. Day instantly made!” Felix tripped and would’ve knocked his head into his basin if Kaden hadn’t righted him. Kaden laughed loudly, and helped Felix shirk off his shirt and toss away his pants.

“You drive a hard bargain, but I accept. Now come along, you have a nice warm bed waiting for you.” Kaden out his arm around Felix and took him to his room. He lied Felix down, and the older male snuggled into his blankets like a toddler ready for nap time. “I’ve left a bucket next to your bed and a tonic on your nightstand for when you wake up. Goodnight, Felix.”

Felix shot his arm out and gripped onto Kaden’s hand with his own. “Come here!” He whispered. Felix was looking at him wide eyed, and Kaden conceded.


“It’s a secret. You can’t tell anyone.” He continued to whisper.


Felix pulled Kaden closer so they were eye to eye. “I think the Mother must have gifted you to me.” And then Felix licked his hand.

Kaden snatched his hand back and made a face at the slobber than was now covering it.

“Felix, what the fuck.”

“That is how best friends mark each other. I just decided.” Felix slurred and rolled over onto his other side, back now facing Kaden.

“You are a strange one.” Kaden muttered. He turned to leave and made it to the doorway before he stopped. This time he was interrupted by Felix’s voice.

“If only there was a bedroom next door all ready to go that you could use. And have. Forever. We can raise our children together. You and Eleana’s kids, and my little family too.”

Kaden rolled his eyes, but when he turned to remark on Felix’s ridiculousness, his friend was already snoring with his mouth open, drool slowly making a mark on his pillow.

anonymous asked:

Imagine IronFalcon in the 'my Nana thought you're my boyfriend so now I have to bring you to thanksgiving dinner or I'm pretty sure she's going to hate me forever' situation where they're good friends who have to pretend to be boyfriends, and then becoming boyfriends for real.

(Watch out for the cut)

“So you don’t have actual plans for Thanksgiving, right?”

Tony glanced up as Sam sat down next to him, fingers already tapping nervously over the textbooks for their shared lit class.

“Actual plans?” he echoed, and Sam nodded. “You mean like, actual plans besides the ‘annoy the shit out of Howard until Mom asks me to stop’ plans I already mentioned?”

Sam nodded again.

“No,” Tony said slowly. “No actual plans.”

“Good, good. So uh, I have a situation.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed, suspicious and wary. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this….”

“Stop quoting Star Wars at me,” Sam said, then blurted, “Nana thinks you’re my boyfriend and demanded I bring you to Thanksgiving dinner so she can finally meet you.”

“She… what? How’d she get that idea?” Tony yelped, eyes going wide and panicked.

“I don’t know!” Sam said back desperately. “She just did, okay, and she’s so happy about meeting you and I am pretty sure if I show up without you that she’s going to hate me forever! Tony!” Sam whined. “I can’t have my nana hating me forever, she makes the best pies and she’ll not make my favorite for me if she’s despairing that we’re not actually dating!”

Tony made a rough noise, like a scoff. “She’ll hate us both if you lie to her!”

“Only a little bit!”

“This is a bad idea,” Tony insisted.

“It’s just for Thanksgiving! You’ll get free food out of it! I’ll buy you all the coffee you want for the rest of the semester!”

Tony paused, giving him an incredulous look. “Finals are coming up. That’s a horrible promise to make, Sam.”

“I am that desperate,” Sam said seriously. “Please?”

After a moment, Tony sighed, caving. “Alright, alright,” he muttered. “I’ll pretend to be your damn boyfriend, even though I think this is a horrible idea.”

“Thank you,” Sam gushed, hugging Tony for a moment before sitting back and opening his textbook. “Okay. Now that that crisis is over, on to this one.”

Tony grumbled, but opened his book as well.

Keep reading

Imaginary (reader x Volturi)

Originally posted by rociiobb

Originally posted by stupidlamb-s

“There is no Illusion greater than fear.”
 - Lao Tzu

‘Ever since my dad left, the other (Y/N)- the one in my head- has been there.’ The eleven year old (Y/N) said.
‘What are they like?’ The doctor asked.
‘They are just like me.’
Carlisle fast forwarded the tape and finally the doctor voiced his thoughts on (Y/N).
‘I believe (Y/N) to not be suffering from a personality disorder or having an imaginary friend. I believe (Y/N) to be enduring a lot of fear and instability due to her past in the social system. This ‘friend’ is therefore is a defence mechanism and an over active imagination. This ‘other (Y/N) is an outlet for (Y/N) to express their feelings that they feel fear to express.’
Carlisle switched the tape with another. He listened to the words of a bolder you. You spoke of what would be done not what could have been. You were seemingly all-knowing. Your voice declared you were the protector.

Carlisle stopped the tape before turning the recorder off. This was recorded the few years prior and now was in your file. Social workers recommended fostering due to families have reoccurring issues with you but Carlisle and Esme were insistent. They would take you, baggage and all with open arms. Perhaps what you really needed was a family, the assurance of a stable family. It went well, they didn’t punish the mentioning of this ‘other you’ you clinged onto. Infact, they treated it as a different person and you seemed grateful for that much to the distaste of the social work follow-up visits- they condemned it.
You were significantly more guarded around them compared to the Cullen’s and so they paid no mind. You were far more important. Eventually social work stopped visiting, as though finally convinced you were in a suitable home.

Everything was fine after that, you knew of their kind and the Volturi were informed. Naturally, to stay on their goodside Carlisle and Esme brought you to visit. Marcus was quick to pick up on the bond. It was faint but there it was, the mating bond was like a string between you and Alec. You were just as uncertain as Alec was. He didn’t like people, you didn’t particularly like them either. You also had the other you throwing a tantrum in your head.
“Alec, come meet them.” Aro smiled, urging Alec forward in front of you.
“(Y/N), this is Alec. Behind him is his sister, Jane.” Carlisle said as he raised your arm for a handshake. Alec slowly followed suit, Aro’s hands on Alec’s shoulders. His cold hand enveloped yours in a tight grip. Naturally, he was much stronger and unsure how much strength was needed. You slowly shook his hand.
 You jaw suddenly twisted and turned into a sneer. “I don’t like you or your sister!” You whipped your head to the side.
“Shut up.” You ground out to your alter.
Jane moved forward​ with a growl whilst Alec scowled. Aro took hold of each twin, pulling you forward slightly as your hand was still in Alec’s grip. “Now, now, they do not mean it. It is to do with their… condition.”
So that’s what they’re going to call it.
“Condition?” Jane repeated.
“There are two (Y/N)’s. Allow us to explain… behind closed doors.” Carlisle said slowly bringing his eyes to you. Nobody ever liked talking about you to your face so you saw that as a queue to wait outside. You pulled your hand away and simply walked outside. Aro nodded to Demetri and Felix who followed you out. 

“This is a really pretty place.” You commented looking around. “Thank you.” Demetri smiled slightly.
“So there’s two of you?” Felix grinned.
“Felix, are you serious?” Demetri said with a glare to him.
“What, why beat around the bush? That’s awesome!”
“I apologize for him. He’s mentally five.” Demetri said looking back at you.
You giggled. “It’s fine, yeah, there’s me and then there’s the other (Y/N). It’s weird, they just appeared one day. It’s like having a twin only you can hear.” “See, that’s cool! I mean slightly concerning but cool!” Felix elbowed Demetri. “They didn’t sound too happy.” Demetri smiled in amusement.
“They never do, I get nervous when I meet new people, I’m a bit of an introvert. So do they, but they're​ very…” You trailed off unable to find the word. “Hostile?” Felix snorted earning another glare from Demetri.
“Protective.” You corrected with a smirk. “They only come out when I’m nervous and…stuff.”
“Ha! They have the twins but in one!” Felix laughed and Demetri elbowed Felix. “Huh?”
“The twins are very protective of one another, Felix finds it to be amusing that you and …you are relatively similar.” Felix and Demetri suddenly turned toward the doors as though hearing something.
“…you can hear them, can’t you?” You said, your stomach dropping.
The two nodded slowly.
“It not as nice as I made it now, is it?” You said deflated.
“Look, humans have coping mechanisms. If this is yours then that’s that.” Demetri reassured.
“…it’s still pretty cool though.” Felix added.
“I feel like a bit of a freak right now.” You mumbled. “It’s all about me in there.” “Not quite.” Demetri said. “How about we tell you about the twins? It’s important they know about you because of how they are.”
You nodded and Demetri explained it. 

 After that day, you and Alec often contacted each other, even Jane joined in upon occasion. Things were nice.
Then the Volturi leaders made a decision. They wanted you to stay with the Volturi. Carlisle thought it over and over. He spoke to you about it. You didn’t protest but you weren’t eager either, in fact it seemed you were rather passive.

You didn’t feel at home when you walked into the castle with Carlisle walking behind you.
“Go take a seat, whilst I let them know we’re here.” He whispered before moving toward the receptionist.
Let me take over,” you heard your other self demand. “I can fix this for both of us.
“No.” You mumbled.
“(Y/N)!” A voice said in a welcoming tone making you look up. Demetri wore a pleasant smile. “It’s so good to see you again!”
You shakily smiled back. “Hi Demetri, it’s been too long.”
“ Aro wants to see you in the throne room before you go to bed or whatever humans so after…” he glanced at the receptionist’s watch, offering her a wink. “Nine thirty at night.”
You nodded slowly before turning to Carlisle who pulled you into a hug with a smile. “You’re going to be fine. I promise.”
You nodded into his shoulder. 

Walking with Demetri was silent, it wasn’t so much awkward, you just had nothing to say. Demetri could see you were conflicted, he didn’t know you were trying to ignore the tugging sensation the other (Y/N) was making. He pulled you into his side for comfort. “Don’t worry. This is new but a good thing.” He murmured and you nodded. He held onto you for a few moments longer before letting you go. You were finally at the entrance of the throne room. Somehow it made it so much more difficult to fight. 

“Ah, our dear (Y/N) has arrived!” Aro said with a wide smile as Alec wasted no time walking up to you and pulling you into a hug. It made Aro giggle with glee. Alec showed no physical sign yet you knew by the hug. He had been waiting and he was happy you were there. This would be the last thing you’d really remember of that night.
“We just wanted to discuss your thoughts on your change.” Aro smiled.
You stiffened slightly and Alec drew circles with his thumb on your back. “My change?”
“By law, you must be changed.” Caius said abruptly.
You’re having a laugh.” You suddenly spat and slapped your hand over your mouth.
“Stop it! Don’t do that.” You said forcefully to your alter.
They can’t do this!
“(Y/N)? Are you alright?” Alec asked.
“(Y/N) won’t stop!” You said frustrated. “I think we should postpone this conversation.” Aro said. “I believe (Y/N) needs their rest.” 
Alec left you a short while later. You looked at yourself in the mirror. “Give me a chance, let me think about this…please.” You muttered to yourself. 

Alice was finishing off her homework at about two am. She found it not even a little bit challenging, as per usual. She learned the same thing over and over again. She was finishing the last word when her hand suddenly jerked, her pen making a straight line over the neat paragraphs. She’d had to rewrite them now. However that wasn’t her concern, it was what she was seeing that had her attention.
 It was you, twice, two of you standing back to back in a dark hallway. The one to the left turned and forced the right onto their knees then the environment changed. She was standing in a hallway and Demetri was opposite her. His face turned into a look of terror as she charged at him-
and Alice was back instantly, looking down at her now ruined homework.
“Hey, you okay? What did you see?” Jasper said.
Alice grabbed her phone, quickly dialing your number. It went straight to voicemail. She then called Carlisle. “Carlisle!”
“Alice? What’s wrong, are you alright​!?” Carlisle said hurriedly.
“You need to go back! I think something bad is going to happen to (Y/N)!” “Alice…I’m on the plane, I’ll never make it back in time.”
That was when Esme turned the corner. “I’ll go.”
“Are you sure!?” Alice said quickly.
“I’m their mother.” Esme said before quickly taking her leave. 

 "Alec! Do it! Do it now!“ Jane cried. Alec’s hands were raised but he had hesitated. It was still you. That hesitation is all it took for the monster, to strike…and hit.

Your loud hysterical sobs racked through your body​. You had your face in your hands, curled up in a ball. Various members of the Volturi were scattered around you, pinned to various parts of the wall. A sickly web like substance covering them. Felix was the last it had got. “(Y/N), please. Help us.”
“(Y/N), won’t let me back in. I don’t have any control. They have the control. I can only watch…” You sobbed before quickly crawling to Felix who looked visibly upset my your answer. “Where’s Carlisle!? I sent him texts before they could- where!? He can help-!” You were suddenly stuck. You didn’t blink, you didn’t breathe. It was as though you were put on pause. Only a few of the Volturi could move their eyes to see the frighteningly tall monster down the hall, you had your back to. It marched down the hall seemingly in rage and grabbed you. It moved to throw you in the direction of Caius but you never hit him. You disappeared before impact could be made. 

 Carlisle looked down at his phone to find various missed texts.
Carlisle! Come back! They’re coming out!
‘i can’t stop them! I don’t want to hurt anyone!
‘Dad, please help me!
Carlisle swallowed hard. These were the messages you sent while he was on the plane. He could only hope Esme would reach you in time. 

Esme turned the corner another hall of the seemingly endless corridors and suddenly let you a startled yelp. Various Volturi members were pinned and devoured by a web like substance. She moved forward to one and could barely make out through the many layers the face of Marcus. “Where are they?” She asked before her eyes starting to each of the Volturi. It wasn’t all of them, it was the twins, Heidi, Felix and Demetri as well as the three leaders. The other guards must be scattered somewhere else. She saw Heidi’s fingers twitch on the floor but the rest of her was completely paralysed. The only sign of life was their wide eyes. They seemed to be stuck making the expression they made when they first saw you- fright, startled. She looked down the hall, it was so quiet.

Suddenly a tall figure came into view. It was about 9ft tall with long out of proportion spindley legs that looked like they could break at any moment. It’s arms jerked violently, long black fingernails were sharp and jutting out as a quiet static noise erupting from them. Black crow like feathers stuck out around its shoulders. It’s ribs protruded out of its skin, there didn’t seem to be any organs so it’s stomach was very small making the skin stretch over its rib cage. It’s neck was sunk in making the bones stick out. It’s face was tear shaped, there was a small slit which was possibly the mouth but there was no lips and no way of seeing if it had any teeth. It had very large, round eyes with black shadows around its eyes. There was two rings of black in its shockingly white eye balls. It was hard to tell if it was looking at her.
Esme looked closer at the entity. It was grey but had blotches of blue and black, almost like bruises. When inspecting it properly she saw they weren’t bruises they were inkbled butterfly outlines. They littered the beings arms and chest, trailing up its neck and stopping behind its left ear.. Its feet were bizarre. They were propped on its toes that weren’t formed. It was like it was walking on very high heels. 

She understood it now. This being intended to scare people but the etched butterflies were entirely different. Esme was your mother, she saw the butterflies and saw them as a sign. As though encouraging her, more inkbled butterflies slowly appeared on its thighs. A smile slowly grew on Esme’s face. “What a little devil you are. My child is trying to scare me.” The entity made a high pitched screeching, static filling her ears.
“You think after all this time I don’t know you? My sweet child aimlessly doodles. You can find them all over their school books, hundreds upon hundreds of butterflies filling the edges of each page.”
You don’t know a thing about me!” The being managed out, the words lathered with hatred and spite.
“Of course I do.” Esme smiled. “You’re my child.”
You left me! You gave me up just like the others! You handed me over to them. You’re just like him! Like everybody! Always leaving us behind!” It screeched. It began slowly grow taller, it’s stance becoming more threatening. It’s eyes began to pulse the black rings moving.
“(Y/N)…” Esme began with a suddenly sharp look.
She turned her attention to the Volturi for a moment. “They’re feeding on your fear! They can’t hurt you if you aren’t scared.”
The being made a noise of protest before a startled groan erupted them. Slowly, it was shrinking. It’s pulsing eyes slowly moving to a halt. 

Esme turned her attention back to you, that was now 5"8. “At home, I have a document that I have signed as well as Carlisle. The papers of your adoption. You are still my child. I am your mother and nothing will ever change that. You’re here because there is a boy here that is learning to love you. You’re here because your happiness is with him. Nobody here in this room, will be leaving you.” Esme gestured to Alec. “He can’t leave you. He literally cannot. He is mated to you.” Esme began to speak softly. “(Y/N), I know why you’re doing this and I know you believe you can’t help it, but you can. All of this hurt that you’ve bottled in all these years is why we are here right now. This is a defence mechanism. I know you don’t want to hurt any of us. So don’t force yourself to do so.” 

The entity looked uncertain, it’s legs jittering. The first presumption was out of fear, but then they could see the being was struggling to keep itself up. Esme held her arms out. “Come here, sweetheart. You’re okay.”
The entity whined, shrinking. Everyone noticed that Alec was slowly moving his head, his hand pushing against the web-like substance. It moved like slime before giving way, Alec falling to the floor. The others found that they were able to move slightly. 

I…” The being croaked as Alec stood by Esme. “I… I-I…” It staggered forward. “I…” It’s voice was changing into a shrill heaving. “I…am…the protec-tor… I…must… keep…keep…” It wheezed staggering forward, it bent over as thought struggling to breathe before slowly looking up. “I…” The voice had changed was slowly turning into yours. “I…am the protector…I must…keep…them safe…do…you…understand?
“Yes (Y/N), we understand but…” Esme moved forward to take your shrinking hands. “You don’t need to protect them anymore. Your both safe and you will be for a very long time.”
 You slowly went back to your original height and eventually they were looking at you again. 

…I’m not needed… anymore?
Esme shook her head. “You understand now, don’t you? You know why you were here.“
You slowly nodded. “I was here for (Y/N), because they were scared.
“That’s right. You’ve fulfilled your promise. You’ve done what you intended to do. They are safe, they aren’t alone. Their life is changing to the one they deserve.”
They don’t need me anymore.” (Y/N) said sadly. “What do I do now?”
Esme smiled sadly. “You know, sweetheart.”
(Y/N) looked down with a sad expression. “Time to go, (Y/N). Thank you for everything.” They said fighting tears. “I love you.” 

Everyone broke free from their bonds which was shrivelling before disappearing entirely. Jane looked up from the ground to look at her brother. (Y/N) looked up. “I’ll put them to sleep.”
Esme smiled reaching forward to cup (Y/N)’s face. “I love you, sweetheart.” She kissed your forehead.
Tears slid down their face before turning to Alec. “I’m sorry.” Alec shook his head. “No apologies needed. You’re always forgiven.”
(Y/N), looked relieved closing her eyes and falling back. Alec was quick to catch you and lift you into his arms. 

 Alice jumped as she was pulled into another vision. Esme’s hands were cupping her cheeks before everything went black and she lulled back. Then she was back in the corridor.
The two of you were back to back again. The one of the left then walked into the archway in front of them. Alice couldn’t see what was inside the arch, it was pure white light and once they passed through they were gone. The remaining you turned to face Alice.
You smiled at her, a smile that was entirely at ease. You walked up to her before putting the heel of your hand onto her forehead and knocking her head back.
Alice’s eyes snapped open. She was back home.
Carlisle had just got through the door. “Alice? Are you alright?”
Alice smiled and turned to Carlisle. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.” Carlisle smiled back at her before heading back out the room, bags in hand. 

Alec looked at Esme. “You knew…you figured it out all so quickly…”
“I’m their mother. I know them better than they think. Put them to bed, I’ll explain everything.” 

You rubbed your eyes before startled. It was morning and you heard nothing. No voices, nothing. Just you. You heard a knock on your door to see Jane with her usual expressionless face. She slowly entered before closing your door softly behind her.
 “Jane, I’m so-”
“Save it.” She interrupted. “Save it for someone who is actually upset with you.” You stayed quiet. “It’s so quiet…” You mumbled.
Jane nodded. “I’m certain that it is strange. (Y/N), I know what you’re going through.”
“I was turned very young. When I was human, my gift showed through. It’s why Aro was so interested in my brother and I. You already know what happened to us.
One day, I was walking home through the woods with Alec. We came across these yellow flowers, our mother would have loved them. I told Alec to go ahead, tell her I’d be a few minutes late for dinner and he did. Not long later I was attacked by these stupid boys from our village. I tried to control myself but I ended up using my gift and it scared them off before I lost consciousness. My mother found me some time later.
That night they killed her, (Y/N) and we were burning at the stake. Then Aro found us.
Alec and I know how difficult it is to control a gift when you’re young and human. It’s near enough impossible.“
“But…I’m not…”
“Yes, you are. Carlisle Cullen and his coven have been trying to figure it out since they took you in. Personality disorders occur through trauma, it’s why you were never really diagnosed. You weren’t suffering from trauma but you had​ a difficult time in your life. When you were eleven, you told the doctors you woke up one morning and the other (Y/N) was there.”
You nodded.
“You spoke a lot of how your father left. How you didn’t understand it but you were so young that you shrugged it off leaving you with the loss. Carlisle found a file on your father, it was agreed you wouldn’t know until you were old enough to understand by the humans but, I think you should know.”
You nodded for her to continue.
“Like us, you showed signs of your gift early. Small things, things you could see that no one else could. He accepted that, it was normal for children your age. After a while, he began to get concerned, the older you got you never broke the habit. He had to you tested for illnesses and you came back normal. Eventually he began to see those things too. Your gift had grown and you were able to project your imagination. It scared him at first but he soon realised these things were harmless. You were only a child, so he embraced them. He noticed others began to notice them too but thought they were real.
He still speaks of one night when you were eight. You were wanted his attention but he had insisted it was time for bed. He was blown away when another you ran around in your nightwear and wanting carried. He went to take you back to bed…but you were already there. He had convinced you that it was a dream when your father came in the room with another you and you believed him but he played with that figment for half an hour before they were gone. You had fallen asleep. 
After a while, rumours spread. People started talking. In the end, your father was taken to a mental institution where he was deemed unwell and you were put into the social system. This was explained to you in the simplest way for you to understand. You were told your father had to go away for a while and leave you behind. You forgot this after a while, and thought he abandoned you. Then one day…“

“I woke up with the other (Y/N).”
Jane nodded. “The other (Y/N) was real, so was the monster, as real as you and me. You created them and brought them to life. Your imagination is quite impressive.”
“I can make things in my imagination real.” You said slowly and Jane nodded. “You did what ever other child would have done in your situation, you just have an exceptional ability. The Volturi are not replacing the Cullens. Your family just got that bit bigger.”
 You smiled. “Will the other (Y/N) ever come back?”
“I assume so…when you need them.” Jane turned to look at you.
“I thought the Volturi don’t give second chances.”
“…we don’t. Tell anyone we gave you one then you’ll need to bring the other one back because we will be kicking your behind up and down these halls.” “Point taken.” You said eyes wide with a grin and Jane cracked a small smile.

Some months later… 

You smiled at Dee and Fee. You created them a month back. They were female duplicates of Felix and Demetri. You decided to give them similar names too. Why make it more complicated?
They were very playful, hyper even but would kick ass if they needed.
That was the point of them, they were protectors of Felix and Demetri. Naturally they followed the two guards around quite often. Of course they were both a work in progress. 

Dee doesn’t talk, you aren’t sure if she can. However you know that doesn’t bother her. You were considering learning sign language so you could teach her.
Fee on the other hand definitely has a voice box. She communicates in high pitched squeals and shrieks like a toddler would.
You weren’t entirely sure how that happened.
The two girls were best friends and were much like majority of your duplicates hyperactive. 

Right now the two had sunglasses on and were dancing around like lunatics. Fee specifically mimicking the ‘Will Smith shuffle’ from ‘the fresh prince of belair’.
Fee really liked that show. She completely zones out, full attention to the show. You giggled. “You two are so silly!” They bounded up to you and stood on either side of you doing the dance move known as the sprinkler. 

Dee suddenly stopped, eyes wide peering at Alec standing behind Caius with a mischievous smirk. She raced up to him eagerly grabbing at him.
 “Oh, can I help you?” Alec teased, hands behind his back. Dee kept moving to see behind his back. “What? What are you looking for?” He laughed at Dee’s desperate and frantic movements. “Oh, perhaps you want this?” Alec showed one hand.
Of course he’d torment the poor duplicate with chocolate.
Dee got even more excited. She loved chocolate and would eat nothing else. She’s the only one who eats out of all duplicates. Alec held out the bar and Dee swiped it, turning her back as though to protect it. 

“Fee, what on earth are you doing?” Marcus said slowly looking under his throne.
Aro chuckled amused.
Fee was pretty tall thanks to Felix but she loved trying to get into tight spaces. Even though a lot of the time she failed. Another habit of hers that the leaders are currently trying to break is the need to slide under their thrones, over and over and over again.
“Fee, no…” Felix said. “Come here, let’s go.” He grabbed Fee’s ankles and moved back dragging a limp Fee from under Marcus’ throne. “She insists on doing that limp thing as though she doesn’t weigh nothing and that will somehow stop me from pulling her out!” Felix laughed before Fee jumped up with a squeal.
Fee moved to Aro, jumping wildly making small squeals. “hello, yes, I see you my dear, what is it?” Aro chuckled taking her hand. “No, you can’t crawl under my throne…no, not Caius’ either.” 

That’s when another three duplicates bounded in. You made them for the leaders. Once again they were female counterparts of the leaders. You kept it simple again, Ar, Cai and Mar.
 They were very different from Fee and Dee. 

Cai, loved heights. Caius has been trying (and failing) to break her habit of walking along their bed frame, hands on the ceiling. She was quiet. Like Dee, she also didn’t speak. Not that she really needed to. She makes herself very clear with her facial expressions. Put her picture next to the phrase ‘if looks could kill…’ .

Ar and Fee got on quite well, and much like her, Ar continuously moved about.
You often found that Ar did the running man much to Fee’s delight. Ar can speak, her voice is quite high pitched with an American Accent. She also loves video games…maybe too much. 

Mar…haha, Mar. Mar liked to hang upside own off of things. Marcus just let’s her, sometimes finding it funny. Mar will hang upside down for hours on end and that’s it.
Mar gets scared easily by different things however, many not making sense. Mar warily eyes Dee when she has chocolate, she’s scared of the crackling the packing makes.
She’s deathly afraid of whoopee cushions. Felix set yours off in front of the duplicates and Mar leapt in the air like a cat and clung to the chandelier for four hours. 

 You were currently planning out another duplicate, for the wives. With Marcus’ permission, you would name her Didyme. He seemed to like the idea, just to hear her name.
Hopefully it would easy the pain.

Hey guys, what do we think of Fee and Dee? :L I LOVE MY WEE BABIES. Dont know whether to add them as OC’s

anonymous asked:

how each of the rfa members would react to mc being pouty and asking them for a piggy back ride? like maybe they're walking somewhere and she gets tired? xD

A/N: I don’t give people piggy back rides I usually just pick the person up when they least expect it and keep walking like i doNT HAVE TIME TO STOP WE GONNA GET GOING ILL JUST CARRY YOU THE REST OF THE WAY ~Admin 404


           -The two of you ask each other at the same time

           -He wants a piggy back ride too, MC!! ;A;



           -You don’t even have to pout for long, he’ll do it for you because??? He’s gotta prove to you he’s not a cute little kid

           -Though he complains like a little kid

           -10 minutes into the ride, he’s slowing down, dragging his feet, and complaining

           -“MC, you aren’t heavy, I’m just…tired, I promise”

           - where’s your arm strength Shooting Star?? i thought you were a big strong warrior

           -Seriously, you have to carry him further than he carried you, but he absolutely loves every minute of it


           -You don’t have to ask him twice

           -So happy to give you a piggyback ride!!

           -He thinks you’re so cute

           -He would have let you pout a little just to see your cute little face, but!! Couldn’t bring himself to do it

           -Plus, this gives him a chance to show you how easily he can hold you

           - totally not trying to show off his strength

           - feel my muscles mc

           -He’ll put you down whenever you want, but would rather not

           -It doesn’t matter where you are, if you ask, he is carrying you in a heartbeat



           - She will suPLEX YOU IF YOU ASK HER TO

           -It actually takes a lot of pouting and begging to get her to pick you up

           -“MC, you’re an adult, can’t you walk?”

           - but i dont wwwaaaaannnnnaaaaaa

           -Sometimes she’ll give you a piggy back ride just because she’s tired of hearing you ask

           -But only around the house, MC, we’re adults

           -Once you tried to surprise her and jump on her back but it didn’t go well AT ALL

           -Meaning the both of you fell flat on your faces

           -From then on, you try not to jump onto her

           -Because of that though, she’ll be more lenient about carrying you, just, don’t knOCK HER DOWN AGAIN PLEASE


           -In public, don’t even think about it

           -But at home? y e s

           -He’ll give you a piggy back ride all around the penthouse

           -Scratch that, all around the building

           -It’s childish but the look on your face is so cute!!!

           -He can’t help himself! The smile on your face makes him so happy

           -The first time you brought it up, however, was a no-go

           -You had to pout for h o u r s until he finally agreed

           - lowkey only made you pout that long because it was cute

           -Sometimes he refuses to put you down. He’ll talk to anyone who walks up to him completely calm and collected, as if you aren’t hanging off of his back


           - tackles you for a piggy back ride first

           -He usually picks you up and carries you around anyway

           -So you wanting a piggy back ride is no problem for him!!!


           -Although sometimes you aren’t sure why you bother

           -Because he likes to hold you hostage

           -You want down? Too bad, he’s got a tight grip on your thighs

           -The door frame has been broken a few times from you holding onto it when he walks through


           -Once tried to Naruto run with you on his back and both of you hit the wall, Saeran filmed the whole thing


           -If MC wants a piggy back ride, MC gets a piggy back ride

           - has tried to take pictures of the two of you and has failed

           -It happens a lot, especially when the two of you go on hikes

           -He get to hold the camera and take whatever pictures you want while he carries you

           -You never have to pout to get him to carry you

           -He can’t handle the pout!!! He feels so bad!!

           -Sometimes, he’ll ask you to get onto his back so you can get a picture for him

           -Always so gentle with you! He’ll kneel so you can get down softly instead of just jumping off

           -He avoids any place with low ceilings or door frames, so you don’t hit your head

           -Please just ask him for a piggy back ride, MC, you literally have nothing to lose


           -What, are your legs broken?

           -No MC I’m not gonna give you a piggy back ride

           -A lot of pouting is needed to make him change his mind

           -Go ahead MC, pout for days, he loves it

           -Seriously, the only way you can get a piggy bag ride from him is to jump onto him

           -At first it was a bad idea to jump on him, because you scared him and he dropped you on your butt

           -But after a few times, he’s gotten used to it

           -He just walks around as if you aren’t hanging off of him

           -To get you off of him, he’ll tickle your thighs

           - secretly loves when you hang off of him though, but he’ll never tell you 

anonymous asked:

So Bakugou and Todoroki's hero names didn't get decided early on I think because they're each gonna get their own little mini arcs that get em to decide them, but I kinda wanted to know your opinion on what they might end up being? 'Course they'll probably be derived from future plot that we don't know right now, but I wanted to ask anyway!

!!!! I’ve never really thought about Todoroki’s, tbh? So I have no clue, honest, but as far as Bakugou goes I’ll keep on holding onto Ground Zero until Horikoshi officially and unequivocally tells me he 100% definitely scrapped it, my friend - it’s such a cool name??? I read it and I nearly cried when I realized that probably it’s not gonna be his actual hero name rip

Anon said: You need to draw Bok.uro more (i love them so much,(you to of course)

I’m sure you didn’t mean anything bad by this ask anon, but as I’ve said more than once I really, really don’t like the word need. I don’t need to do anything, no one’s paying me for this. When I’ll want to draw more bokro it’ll for sure happen, so don’t worry about that~

Keep reading

Break Even

A Christmassy SnowBaz fic for the Carry On Countdown


Of course, it’s not enough that the Crucible stuck me and that twat in a room together.  It’s not enough that I have to deal with his abuse every single day six months out of the year.  Of course, someone out there, whoever’s controlling the fates, has gotten it in their mind that I don’t have it bad enough.

           You know what would make this even better?  Make Simon and Baz buy each other Christmas presents!  Perfect!

           I trudge along the snowy pavement, scowling at the melting slush.  I’ve been in five shops already and I can’t find anything.  I don’t even know what I’m looking for.  What do you get for someone you despise?

           I suppose I could pull a prank or something. That’s probably what he will do. He never fails to stoop to the lowest level when it comes to me.

           But then again, he would probably kill me if I pulled something like that.  For some reason, he’s allowed to mess with me, but I’m not allowed to mess with him. Figures.

           Exhausted, I duck into a coffee shop.  The air is warm and spiced with cinnamon.  As I make my way to the front of the line, I see the display of gift cards next to the till.

           Baz drinks coffee, doesn’t he?  Of course he does.  Everyone drinks coffee.

           So I buy my peppermint mocha, load a gift card and walk out relieved.


Of course, it’s not enough that I have to pretend I hate the boy with every word I say.  It’s not enough that I have no choice but to make his life a living hell every single day six months out of the year. Now I have to display my everlasting hatred by means of a Christmas gift exchange.

           Whoever thought this was a good idea can get fucked.

           I shove my way out of a candy store emptyhanded. Every shop is bringing me closer to the point of giving up.  What kind of villain gives the hero candy for Christmas?

           Then again, what kind of villain gives the hero anything for Christmas?

           Maybe the villain who doesn’t want to be the villain.

           I shake my head to clear it, squinting up at the sign over the next window.  Antiques it says in big loopy writing.  I sigh and push through the door.

           The smell hits me first.  It’s not a bad smell necessarily, just old and musty, kind of like breathing straight dust, and I cough.  As my eyes adjust I begin to make out the piles of knick-knacks stacked up on every surface, age-old brass and silver winking at me from every corner.  Or rather, blinking.  Like someone who’s trying to wink but never quite got the hang of it.

           I don’t know where to start.  I don’t even know what I’m looking for.  What do you get for someone who despises you?

           From what I can tell, everything in here is pretty expensive, which almost causes me to turn around right then.  Expensive doesn’t fit the guidelines I’ve set for myself. The gift can’t be too sentimental or he’ll know you don’t hate him.  It can’t be too expensive or he’ll think you cared enough to spend money on him.  It can’t be candy because candy is for kids, it can’t be cologne because that’s too personal, it can’t be homemade or he’ll think you spent time and effort on him. The list goes on and on.

           A flash of metal catches my eye, and I turn to see a tiny silver object on a table by the window.  I wander over to it.

           It’s a sheath, only big enough for a dagger, and it’s patterned in bronze rosebuds.  When I pick it up, I discover that the blade is still inside, intact, and actually nicely polished.

           Of course, Snow already has a sword, but when you live with a vampire, what harm would it do to have an extra weapon handy at all times?  One that doesn’t disappear when you’re not using it?

           “How much for this?” I ask the shopkeeper.


When the last day of classes rolls around, I find Baz in our room – no surprises there – packing the last of his things for the holidays.  I clear my throat as I enter.  He turns, but only for a second, and he doesn’t make any other move to acknowledge my existence.  Again, no surprises there.

           “Are you leaving soon?” I ask, trying to at least begin the conversation in a civil manner.

           “Yes, Snow,” he sighs, “as you’ll be thrilled to know.”

           I roll my eyes.  It doesn’t matter what I do.  This is just him.

           I drop my bag on my bed and rummage through it, searching for the tiny gift.  When I find it, I toss in onto his bed.  “Here.”

           He looks at it, his brow furrowed.  “What’s this?”

           “Christmas gift exchange,” I say, “you might have forgotten.”

           He opens the pathetic little square of wrapping paper I’ve taped around the gift card, and mutters something incoherent.  “What was that?” I ask.

           “I said, this is my favourite coffee shop.”

           “Oh,” I reply, not sure what else to say.  “Well, good then.  Happy Christmas, I guess.”

           He slips the card into his pocket and doesn’t move.  I figure he’s completely forgotten about the gift exchange, or he deliberately didn’t get me anything, and decide not to press the subject.  I flop down on my bed and pull out a magic book.  No use in packing for me, I’m not going anywhere. Not like Baz.  Not everyone gets to celebrate with a family.  And certainly not everyone gets to celebrate in a fucking mansion.

           A small wrapped package appears in my periphery. I look up.  Baz is madly arranging clothes in his luggage, trying to look like he didn’t put the thing on my bed.  I’m surprised, I’ll admit.  I guess he didn’t forget.

           “What’s this?” I ask.  I don’t know why I ask it, as the answer is fairly obvious.

           “Just open it,” he says, not looking at me.

           Carefully I pull the tape off of the paper, not wanting to trigger anything in case this is still some sort of prank.  I wouldn’t put anything past him, the boy who literally pushed me down the stairs and tried to feed me to the Chimera.  But nothing ticks, and nothing blows up in my hands.  Slowly I pull the paper back from the object, holding it far away from my face, just to be safe.

           I am not expecting a dagger.

           Specifically, I am not expecting a dagger with a matching sheath that clips onto a belt, adorned with a rosebud pattern of bronze. I am not expecting what appears to be a polished silver blade with a soft leather hilt that fits in my hand like it was molded to the shape of my grip.

           My mouth is hanging open in awe.  I can’t seem to form words.

           I look back up at him.  He’s stopped rearranging his luggage and is watching me, and he looks almost nervous.

           “How much did you spend on this?” I breathe.

           He shakes his head.  “It was just from a pawn shop,” he mutters.

           “Damn, Baz,” I chuckle, “way to make me look like a shit gift-giver.”

           His eyes harden.  “I’ll take it back then,” he growls, moving to take it from my hands.

           “No!”  I clutch the knife to my chest.  He stops, looking surprised, like he hadn’t actually expected me to like it.  How he could think that beats me.  “I love it,” I say, not even realizing that I’ve admitted to something.

           His brow softens a bit.  “I just thought it might be easier than always having to summon your sword,” he shrugs.

           “It’s perfect,” I breathe, staring at the roses on the sheath, spellbound by the thing.

           Suddenly I’m hit by a wave of guilt.  I spent a handful on a lame gift card, when Baz went and actually found me something that would mean something.  I don’t stop to think about why he would want it to mean something, I only know that it leaves the scales completely unbalanced.

           I need to repay him somehow.

           I stand, and suddenly we’re nearly face-to-face. If our room wasn’t so damn tight we wouldn’t be this close together, but for once the proximity doesn’t bother me. It clearly affects him though, because he shies away as soon as I stand.  He won’t even make eye-contact with me.

           “I can’t accept this,” I tell him, “not without paying you back somehow.”

           “What part of the term ‘gift exchange’ do you not understand, Snow?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at me.  “It’s a gift.  Let’s just wish each other a Happy Christmas and be done with it.”

           “No, that’s not how we work,” I insist.  “I torment you, you torment me, and somehow we always break even.  So now we have to break even on this.”

           “I’m not telling you how much I spent on that,” he shakes his head.

           “Why not?”  My heart drops for a second.  “Was it terribly expensive?”

           “No, it’s just not what you do.  You don’t tell someone what you spent on them, it just makes them feel guilty.”

           “And since when have you ever passed up an opportunity to make me feel guilty?” I challenge.  He doesn’t answer, just stares at something that isn’t my eyes. I can’t quite tell what he’s looking at. Maybe the wall behind me, maybe my shoulder, maybe nothing in particular.

           “Alright,” I concede, “no money, then.  But there must be something I can do.”

           And – Merlin – his cheeks turn pink.

           And now I’m very aware of how close we are.

           And of how I can pinpoint his gaze now.

           He’s looking at my face, but not my eyes.  My mouth.


           I don’t think.  I just lean in and kiss him.


Simon’s mouth, no matter how many times I’ve thought he might kiss me, is a complete shock.  I’ve stared at his lips plenty, but apparently I wasn’t prepared to feel them against mine.

           And now here he is, pressing a gentle kiss to my cold mouth like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

           Before I can even close my eyes, he pulls back.

           I don’t speak.  I don’t trust myself to.

           “Is that alright?” he whispers.

           “Yeah.”  Crowley, I’m shaking.

           “Are we even then?”

           “Um,” I swallow nervously, “almost.”

           “Oh?” He smiles, and my heart stops entirely.  “What else do you want?”

           I lean in by just a fraction, hoping he’ll take the hint.

           He does.

           And then his mouth is flush against mine, not even bothering to be shy.  

Cherry (Part 31)- wolf!jikook story

“Jungkook, it’s your turn!”

Hoseok, with his unusually bright smile and groomed ears, holds out the empty pickle jar. Inside are four slips of paper with four names; Jimin, Guk, Tae, and Hoseok.

In any other circumstance, Jungkook would’ve grabbed a paper without any worries. However, this one has his tummy jumbled and tail stiff. It takes all of his effort not to show his slightly shaking hands or to nervously lick his lips.

Something just feels wrong about what they’re going to do. Jungkook’s never kissed a stranger, only his Jimbles. Allowing an unknown male to kiss him, to let him hold Jungkook in his arms…

“Are you scared?” Taehyung snorts against Hoseok’s side, clinging onto his arm. Their ears flick together as Taehyung stares at Jungkook, a mischievous smile on his face. “See how cute he is, Hoseok? He’s like an innocent baby.”

At this, Jungkook bites back a sigh. If he was given a dollar for every time Tae called him a baby, he’d be a millionaire. “It’s just a kiss,” Tae continues, flicking Hoseok’s ear with a finger. “Don’t be shy and pucker up!”

How this is starting to sound like those movies Jungkook’s mother likes to watch!

They’re in the middle of their weekly sleepover playing the “card kissing” game. Whichever paper they pick, they’re forced to kiss that person whose name’s written on the slip. Perhaps Jimin wouldn’t be on edge if Tae hadn’t brought over Hoseok, a new wolf that keeps sniffing around Jungkook, smelling so strongly of freshly squeezed oranges it reminds him of his field trip to an orange farm.

Not that Jungkook minds the other wolf’s curiosity. He has a feeling that Hoseok’s motives are nothing more than friendliness. Still, imagining this wolf he doesn’t know very well kissing him has him more nervous than his third grade speech.

“He doesn’t have to do this unless he wants to,” Jimin gives a warning growl, watching Jungkook’s hand slip inside the jar intently.

“I think he does,” Hoseok taps Jungkook’s doughy cheek, noting the way Jimin’s hands clench in response. Eyes flicking to Jimin’s, Hoseok whispers, “C'mon Gukkie, let us see. I hope you get my name.”

“I hope he doesn’t,” Jimin hisses out, scootching closer to Jungkook. The way he’s sitting, it looks as if he’s about to pounce. There’s an anger scent drifting from him, his body unusually warm. Perhaps it’s from the cup of hot cocoa that they shared?

Opening the slip of paper, Jungkook’s eyes flick over the name.


“He has-” Hoseok’s smile immediately fades when Jungkook shows off the paper. “Taehyung?”

At his name, Taehyung claps his hands together. “Let me pick!” Thrusting his hand into the jar, he plucks out a paper and gasps at the name. “Jimin, I got you! Reminds us of those days when we’d experiment together, huh?”

Both Hoseok and Jimin seem quite unhappy as they silently stare at each other. Hoseok’s got a hand around Tae’s shoulder, fingers tapping against his skin.

“They’re not kissing.” Jimin’s voice breaks the quiet spell upon them, causing the tension to slink out of the room.

“I think we should kiss who we want to,” Hoseok agrees, hand drifting underneath Taehyung’s chin. “I’m kissing Tae.”


Before Jungkook can say who he wants to kiss, Jimin’s already kissing him quiet, hands slinking around his skinny shoulders.

Now this is nice. It’s his familiar Jimin, chest warm against his, so kind and caring but equally possessive sometimes…

Jungkook would have it no other way.

anonymous asked:

For the frozen ask, what if during the treatment their S/O got really emotional because this kind of thing has happened before but nobody has ever freaked out about their safety and made sure they were ok like this before and this just means so much to them? Like they were so casual about it because it's never been a big deal and they're touched and maybe a bit weepy, saying thank you?

Asks in question: 1 | 2

* Love ya babe, Trin cares bout you too


Ramps up the affection tenfold and drops the jokes, cradling them to him as he whispers soothing words and reassurances. After he understands, he feels like his SOUL is being constricted from how much he wants to take care of them forever. He’d nuzzle into them whispering “always, always.  i’ll be here from now on. i promise, i promise…”


He starts panicking slightly again, not understanding why they’ve started crying. Did he do something wrong? Are they in pain? How does he fix it? Once he understands, he’ll bundle them close and try to feed them their favourite food, insisting they’re fine now and that it was no problem and it’s okay, don’t cry.


Has no idea what to do. Physical sickness he can handle, has finished handling. Then suddenly ~emotions~ pop up and he’s crossed into hello darkness my old friend territory. He’ll be really stiff and awkward as he tries to reassure them at first. But once he understands why they’re crying, he feels that feel, been there done that in the relationship. He relaxes and just holds them close, running his hands up and down their back. 


He feels bad immediately, thinking he might have been too harsh in his chiding and that’s why they started crying. He won’t say anything, just leaving and returning with a warm drink refill which will probably make his S/O cry even more. He resorts to letting them lie their head in his lap as he strokes their hair.


Immediately tries to get them to stop crying, handing them tissues and trying to cheer them up. Once he understands the reason, he’s kind of baffled, swearing to himself to show them the kindness and love they deserve. First mission is to halt the crying. He turns on their favourite movie, snuggles into them and holds their hand for the rest of the night.


He’s already holding them as close as possible when they start crying. He doesn’t say anything at first, thinking it might just be stress from the whole ordeal. When he finds out, he doesn’t do anything different, continuing to hold them in the same way. But if he hadn’t already, this cemented that he never wants to leave them.


He’s crying, now they’re crying, dammit everyone’s bloody crying. It ends up in a cathartic couple cry where he and his S/O hold onto each other until the tears run dry and they just lie together in mutual vulnerability and understanding.


He’s out for his smoke when his S/O starts the waterworks. He’ll rush back inside and scoop them up, checking their body over once before asking what’s wrong. When he understands, he keeps them close and begins telling a random story. It’s better to let them calm down before they have a serious talk. Paps needs them to know how much he cares and wants to help and how much they’ve helped him. But first, to calm down. 

remember that anon who requested a patater engagement?


Kent’s sitting on their couch on a random Friday night, blindfolded and laughing as Tater feeds him something round and cold.

“Another grape,” he says once he’s finished chewing. “Come on, give me a challenge.” They’ve been at this for half an hour. Tater came home with the idea in his head that they try the Sensory Challenge, whatever that was, something from Russian Youtube. It involved people blindfolding each other and then making them feel, taste, smell, or hear things and then guessing what the things were.

So far, Kent’s had to guess the feel of the TV remote (”Easy.”), the sound of Tater shaking one of their house plants (”Tater, if you hurt one leaf on Alejandro, I’m going to murder you.”), and the smell of Tater’s socks from practice (”Alexei I am going to murder you.”)

After the socks, Tater started feeding him various fruits and veggies out of their fridge, as well as spoonfuls of ice cream, so Kent’s decided that Tater is forgiven. Tater told him earlier that he could take the blindfold off, but Kent’s having too much fun. He was half expecting this to devolve into something kinky. But Tater’s just playing the game, having fun, and Kent’s having fun, too.

That’s the thing he loves about Tater: the guy never lets him get bored. Tater’s always bringing something new into Kent’s life, a joke or a book or a recipe, a new perspective on life that Kent’s never seen before.

Kent’s eaten this brand of Rocky Road a million times, but with his vision gone and only his nose and mouth to inform his experience, it’s like a whole new flavor.

“Mm, you should kiss me now,” Kent says, smacking his lips.

Tater does. It’s a short peck; a soft, warm contrast to the hard, cold feel of the ice cream-laden spoon from a moment before.

“Now my turn,” Tater says against Kent’s mouth.

Keep reading

satan-is-here-bitch  asked:

Hey! Your Kevin x Joaquin fics are to die for! Not sure if you're taking requests right now, but if you are, could you do one where Kev and Joaquin are just walking around aimlessly together, then Kevin realised they're at the place where he found Jason and the memories come back and he panics and Joaquin just holds him and calms him down? And it's just suuuuper fluffy? Thanks a bunch! And if you end up writing this, may I please be tagged? Thank you! xxx

Sweet Water River

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre: Starts out angsty, ends up fluffy

Warnings: graphic descriptions of death, alcoholism, panic attacks, guns, a lot of talk about death, like alot

Read it on AO3

Note: I strayed slightly from the prompt, apologies I hope you still like it. All of Joaquin’s backstory is my headcannon. If you haven’t read my other fics, Sebastian (a.k.a. Bas or Bastian) is Joaquin’s older brother. Also I forgot how old Joaquin was so he is seventeen in this.

Kevin had really thought that he could do this. He didn’t think that it would affect him this much. Why was it affecting him this much? He was walking hand in hand with his beautiful boyfriend alongside the bubbling river, and he knew that he shouldn’t be thinking about Jason. It was impossible no to though. All he could picture was the boy’s dead eyes, the hole in his head, the way his skin had somehow grown even paler with death, the way the water had darken his hair, making in red like blood. Kevin had never really liked Jason, but seeing someone who had once been so full of life and spirit, he was captain of the football team for god sakes, seeing someone that vibrant be completely washed out, all signs of humanity ripped away. Kevin couldn’t take it. He just couldn’t. He didn’t realize that he was crying until Joaquin’s thumbs were on his cheeks, brushing the tears away.

“Hey hey.” Joaquin comforted, pulling Kevin to come sit down on a nearby rock. The river rose just enough to cover their toes. “What’s wrong, Kev?” Kevin just shook his head, mind still reeling with the memory of tripping over the dead boy. “Kevin. Kev, I need you to breath.” Joaquin tried not to let Kevin see just how nervous he was. “Breath with me baby.” Joaquin took a deep breath, slowly letting Kevin match his pace. He gently rubbed his hands up and down Kevin’s arms, trying to calm the other boy.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s happening.” Kevin responded as soon as his breathing evened out. He could still feel his heart beat racing, as if his heart was trying to escape his body. He felt like shit. Why couldn’t he keep it together? He had seen dead people before, his dad was the goddamn sheriff. He saw crime scene photos in his dad’s office all the time. He could vividly remember his mom’s funeral; he remembered how she looked all made up and calm in the silk lined coffin. Her eyes were closed, though. Jason’s had been open. Kevin had looked into Jason Blossom’s dead eyes. He had stood beside Sweet Water River, just looking into those eyes while Moose called Kevin’s dad. “His eyes were so lonely Joaquin. How could someone dead look so lonely?” Kevin finally looked up from his trembling hands to make eye contact with Joaquin.

“I don’t know Kev, I really don’t know.” Joaquin ran a hand through his hair, trying to decide if he was ready to share this with Kevin. He took a deep breath, “I want to tell you about my family.” Joaquin mumbled, taking Kevin’s large hand in his smaller one. “But I think we should probably get out of here first.” Kevin nodded, standing up and wrapping his arm around Joaquin’s waist before beginning the walk back to Kevin’s dad’s truck.

Joaquin didn’t let go of Kevin’s hand. Not while he was driving them back to the Keller residence, not when they made their way up to Kevin’s room, not when Kevin gently kissed him and pulled him onto the bed. Joaquin didn’t know if he would ever let go of Kevin’s hand.

Kevin almost had another panic attack as they walked back to the truck, but he didn’t. Joaquin’s hand was firm in his, grounding him and keeping him present. He was sure that Joaquin was just humoring him, not letting go of his hand, but Kevin couldn’t describe how important it was to him. He needed this. He needed Joaquin because his heart beat was still racing. It didn’t calm down until he was lying in his room, surrounded by familiar sights and breathing in Joaquin’s familiar scent.

Kevin and Joaquin were lying on their sides, facing each other. Kevin kept leaning in to brush his lips against Joaquin’s, a ghost of a kiss. He found it reassuring, feeling the warmth of Joaquin’s lips under his. He could feel the serpent’s heart beat where their chest were pressed together. When he looked into Joaquin’s eyes, they were full of live and passion and, love? Kevin wasn’t sure. Was it too early for love?

“Kev, can I tell you about my parents?” Joaquin whispered, avoiding eye contact with the taller man. Joaquin didn’t know why it was so important for him to tell Kevin about this. Maybe he thought it would calm Kevin down. Maybe help Kevin realize that Joaquin really did understand what he was going through. Cause Joaquin knew exactly what Kevin had meant when he had said that Jason’s eyes were lonely.

Kevin sucked in his breath. He didn’t know if he was ready to hear about this, but he wanted to be there for Joaquin the same way Joaquin had been there for him. “Absolutely.”

“I read somewhere that, after the age of seven, our brains delete most of our memories from early childhood. But my brain must have malfunctioned or something, cause every night, for thirteen years, I remember my parents.” Joaquin paused, closing his eyes and gripping tighter on Kevin’s hand. “I was four when they died, and Bas tells me that I’m making it up, that I’m remembering it all with rose colored glasses or something. I don’t think he’s ever gotten over it.” Joaquin paused again and Kevin opened his mouth to comfort him, to tell him that he understood, but Joaquin interrupted him. “Kev. If you start talking I don’t think I’ll get through this.” Kevin just nodded, resting his forehead against Joaquin’s and closing his eyes, inviting the boy to continue.

“Sebastian and I were in the car when my parents died. My dad was drunk, Sebastian says he can’t remember our dad ever being sober. But my mom. My mom was trying to calm him down, trying to get him to stop yelling and to pay attention to the road. I remember her last words. How fucked up is that?” He laughed angrily. “I’m seventeen and I remember my mom’s last words. She said ‘Honey, calm down. You’re scaring the children.’ And he said ‘Why do you think I give a rat’s ass about the children?’ And then we hit the black ice, and the car spun off the road. Bastian was only 14, he didn’t know what the hell to do, so we just sat in the car until 911 showed up. I remember looking at my mom, blood dripping down her forehead and just knowing that I would never forget the look in her eyes. She look so sad and lonely.” It was Kevin’s turn to bring his thumbs up to wipe away tears. He pressed a kiss to both of Joaquin’s cheeks, as if to erase the tear trails. Joaquin’s breath shook. “Kev, I want you to feel comfortable around me, okay? I need you to tell me if you aren’t okay with something.” Joaquin finished, trying to let Kevin know that they never had to go back to Sweet Water River again. Kevin smiled at him.

“I do feel comfortable around you Joaquin. I just, I thought I could do it.” He shrugged, “I was wrong. I just kept picturing him, wondering how he must have felt in those last seconds, facing down the barrel of a gun and just knowing that this was the end. That you were about to die.” Kevin’s breath had begun to accelerate again.

“Kev, calm down. Breathe okay, in and out. In and out.” Joaquin traced calming patterns on Kevin’s hand. Kevin slowed his heart rate, but looked at Joaquin inquisitorially.

“How do you know how to deal with… whatever these things are?”

Joaquin sighed, “I told you Sebastian had never gotten over it right?” Kevin nodded. “Well, he had panic attacks sometimes. I, uh, I had to figure out how to deal with it.” Kevin was incredulous.

“Joaquin, you’re seventeen.”

“Well observed preppy” Joaquin chuckled.

“Shut up,” Kevin hit his shoulder, “I mean, you shouldn’t have to deal with this kinda stuff. You’re still a kid.” Joaquin smiled sadly.

“So are you. But you know what your mom’s last words were too. And you can’t go to the river cause of a dead kid.” Joaquin seemed to realize something, “We live in Riverdale Kev, we are as normal as kids get in this town.” He smiled, his hand was still in Kevin’s, and he used it to pull the taller boy impossibly closer to him, connecting their lips.

Kevin sighed, deepening the kiss and forgetting about the shit they had been through. He was happy to just be with his boyfriend. To kiss his boyfriend and hold his hand and know that nothing could ruin this. This was his and this was perfect. He threw his leg over Joaquin’s, straddling the boy and furthering the kiss. He finally released Joaquin’s hand, bringing his up to slide under Joaquin’s shirt. Joaquin whimpered into Kevin’s mouth.

Kevin pulled away, smirking.

“I love you.” He admitted, biting his lip. Joaquin smiled, before flipping them so he was on top, straddling Kevin.

“I love you too, preppy. Now shut up and let me kiss you.”

“Sounds like a deal.” Kevin giggled and relaxed under Joaquin’s lips.

Should I start putting these under a cut? I think maybe I should. Some of them are pretty long. 

Hit me up with requests/prompts or if you’d like to be on my tag list.

Tag List: @glitteryloser @satan-is-here-bitch

evakerlitvet  asked:

hey ITS ME AGAIN SOZ BUT I DISNT ASK AND DISCUSS ONE THING AND JO IS AMAZING TO TALK TO. so what do you think happened in the evening? that was the scene i just realized would be perfect for the end. idk, id love to see at least one more malec talk. imagine them curled up by the fire, or maybe on the balcony, alec resting his head on Magnus' lap and them just.. talking? (and cuddling heheheheheheheh) about the crazy stuff that happened that day. it'd definitely be adorable wouldnt it

NITSA YOU’RE THE BEST OKAY??! That’s totally perfect and I can think of how it goes(in a hundred and one cheesy and sappy ways because I’m me, okay).

So we leave off from here, your previous ask!

By the time they step out of portal into Magnus’ loft, the sun was casting a warm golden glow over the interior of the apartment. Magnus hums and steps toward the side table, hand instinctively reaching out for the scotch when he’s tugged by strong arms around his middle and he stumbles back into Alec. He worries for a moment that the force with which he hit Alec would bring them both to the ground, but Alec stood rooted and he relaxes as he feels a warmth spread from where his back was in contact with Alec’s chest. Magnus felt Alec snake his arms tighter around his ribcage and feels him nosing at his neck, letting loose a shaky breath that sent a jolt through Magnus’ body. 

“What’s wrong?” Magnus placed a comforting hand lightly on Alec’s, which were clasped around him. After a long beat, he felt more than heard the light whisper against his shoulder, “I thought…I thought I lost you.” All Magnus could think of was same here, darling, same here, instead, he slowly laces his fingers with Alec’s and turns around. He looks up into teary eyes, and tries not to focus on how beautiful those hazel eyes shone under the dipping sun, tries not to remember how they almost lost their light that night, tries not to imagine a future without their owner. He forces a smile, feeling a tinge of sourness fight its way up to his own eyes, as he breathes more than says, “We’re here, Alexander. That’s all that matters.” Magnus gently swipes Alec’s moist cheek with the thumb of his free hand, before closing his eyes as Alec bows slightly, forehead leaning on his and they just breathe, like how they did outside the Institute. The only difference now, is that in the quiet loft, they could hear each other’s heart beating steadily, almost loud enough to drown their fears as they echo off the walls of the apartment.

They didn’t know how long they stood there, but the glow from the sky had turned a light indigo when they separated and they stripped each other slowly, almost solely by touch, as all that they could see were faint outlines of each other, lit by the last sliver of the setting sun. There wasn’t any talking, there wasn’t a need to, at least not yet, as they took a warm shower together. Hands glide over soaped bodies, trying to commit every dip of muscle, every edge of bone and every drip of warmth seeping through fingertips to memory. 

Magnus snaps his fingers and the fireplace lit up, soft crackling sounding through the loft as sparks turn to slow flames. He holds out a towel with open arms from where he’s seated on the couch towards Alec, who was tying his bathrobe as he padded across the mahogany floor. Alec looks up and flashes a soft smile as he settles between Magnus’ legs that were elegantly spread along the couch, and lets Magnus dry his hair. It was a comfortable silence and Magnus let the wet towel slip off onto the floor as he feels Alec leaning back towards him, settling his head on his shoulder. Magnus slips one arm around Alec and the other hand through Alec’s slightly damp hair, and Alec tilts his head up to drop a kiss on his jaw, before he whispers, “I love you,” and Magnus is once again, lost for words as he looks into honest, open eyes.

“I love you too.” Magnus continues running his fingers through Alec’s hair, and they fall asleep, warm and safe in each other’s arms. There were more things to be said, but they could always wait till tomorrow. 

anonymous asked:

Drarry Prompt: Harry and Draco find themselves (somehow) stranded in the Outback...(further optional detail: they either can't apparate because of magical reasons, or they're too distracted by things around them, or bickering with each other)

Thank you for the prompt!! Sorry it took me so long! I’ve been packing and getting ready to go back to Uni. I hope I did this prompt justice!


“Yeah, baby?”

Harry paused, taking in another look of their hot, sandy environment.

“Where the fuck are we.”

The sound of rummaging stopped, and Harry’s boyfriend of five years began to straighten, turning to face him with a bemused frown.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “We’re in Austria, of course.”

Harry glanced around at the vast landscape of red sand, spikey bushes, and hot beating sun before returning his unimpressed stare to Draco whose frown began to deepen, becoming defensive.

“What?” he snapped.

“Show me the travel book.”

A pair of arms crossed tightly over Draco’s chest. “Why?”

Harry felt his jaw clench. “Show. Me. The. Travel. Book.” He watched, with the tiniest flicker of amusement, as his stubborn boyfriend finally relented, throwing his arms up into the air in a familiar show of petulance, digging through his backpack once more.

“Here.” Draco thrust the small, very battered and overly used book into Harry’s hands. “Happy now?”

The strength of the sun was beginning to make Harry’s skin painfully hot. Wherever they actually were, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion exactly where they were, they’d need to find some form of shelter soon before they both burnt to a crisp. The sounds of flipping pages quickly filled the slightly strained silence.

“Austria, huh?” Harry murmured then, flipping between two pages and comparing the location of each. “Does Austria normally have a desert this time of year, love?”

“How the fuck should I know?” the blond replied with a whine. “That’s why we’re visiting, yes? You know, those things called holidays and the like? Where people, not unlike ourselves, go to discover new places?”

Rolling his eyes, Harry turned the book around. “See this, Draco? This is Austria. Cute little villages covered in snow. But this, this right here? Draco, we’re in fucking Australia.”

“What!” Draco snatched the book from his hands, flicking back and forth just as he had done. “But—no, we can’t—what the fuck! But the form! Our coordinates??” He ripped out a neatly rolled stack of parchment from his bag, desperate silver eyes scanning the information.

Harry watched, unsurprised, when his boyfriend’s face suddenly paled, his lips quivering slightly.

“Let me see,” Harry said, holding out his hand. Angry eyes lifted to meet his.

“Need to confirm my failure, Potter?” Draco scoffed testily.

“Don’t do that,” Harry replied absently as he took the pieces of parchment. “I’m not your father, love.”

The blond-haired man sneered. “I know that,” he grumbled, but he turned away despite his words, arms wrapping unconsciously around his stomach.

“Look, it doesn’t matter alright? I bet this happens all the time. We’ll just wait out the post-travel apparation period and then head back. No big deal.”

Draco huffed, still facing away from Harry, who was beginning to notice how very red the back of his boyfriend’s neck was becoming.

“Fuck, we better find some shelter or something quick,” Harry stated, looking around. “We’re both going to get heatstroke at this rate.”

“What the fuck sort of continent is this anyway?” Draco grouched, kicking at some of the orangey-red sand. “Why is it so hot? I thought Granger said her parents lived somewhere where it was relatively cool.”

“Hermione’s parents lived in the Blue Mountains, love,” Harry replied. He swung his bag around on one shoulder so he could reach the bottle of water he’d brought along. “From where we’re standing, I’m guessing we’re in the middle of Australia somewhere.” He glanced over when he heard Draco exhale, eyes widening as he watched his boyfriend’s shoulders suddenly slump.

“Baby, no,” Harry said quickly, moving up behind the blond and shoving his bag onto his back. He pressed up against the familiar torso, wrapping his arms tightly around Draco’s waist. “Listen, I promise I’m not upset. It was an easy, mistake, alright? And what does it even matter? It’s a new place, neither of us have been here before—what’s the difference?”

“Small cottages and snow?”

Chuckling, Harry pressed a quick kiss to Draco’s warm cheek. “Come on, we might as well explore a bit, hmm? Maybe we can work out exactly where we are.”

“Well… at least this explains the utterly contemptuous look I received from the witch at the Travel Bureau when she clarified our destination coordinates.”

Harry laughed aloud, the sound carrying throughout the open air. “I’ve been told,” he began, voice lowering ever so slightly, “that whilst it does get rather cold at night here in the Australian desert… the stars that can be seen beat the temperature by a long shot.”


“Mmm.” Another press of lips. A gentle tongue flickered salty skin. “I do believe we need to cross star-gazing sex off of our bucket list…”

The body in Harry’s arms shivered enticingly. “Well, when you put it that way.” Draco turned in his arms, gazing down at him with a fond smile and silver eyes pleasantly warm. “I suppose we could call this an accidently-on-purpose mishap?”

Harry grinned. “I suppose we could.”