this seemed so much better in my head :[

Tips for new daddies!

Hey! So, I’ve decided to compile a list of things for new daddys/doms. This list is for daddy’s with littles (age regressors). If there is anything you feel I’ve left out, feel free to let me know!

-They’re your little, make them feel like one. She/he is going to want to be in little space, so let them. Help them into it. A simple phrase gets my little into little space, so find out what works best for them.

-Establish rules. Try not to get over 20 rules, cause they can get hard to remember after a while. My little personally has 27, but some of our rules are common sense, so she remembers them easily. Be on the lookout for a rules list next. 

-Be supportive of them. If you’re both new, they may want to experiment with pacis, bottles, sippy cups, diapers, etc. Make sure the both of you talk it out and be there for them. Even if they are experienced in dd/lg and knows what they want, never ignore them. Be there and be supportive. 

-Punish bad behavior. I know, I know. You love them and don’t want to make them sad/upset. But trust me, when they start acting up in public and embarrassing you, you’re gonna wish you had started punishing them. 

-Take care of them. If you’re not in a LDR, this is a little easier. If you live together, tuck them in, or make meals, bathe them (with her permission), read them bedtime stories, and other small things to keep them in good health. If you are in a LDR, you can still read bedtime stories over FaceTime/skype, make sure they’re eating well, make them study, etc. 

-Know their stuffies names.  I cannot stress this enough. It seems like a small task, but it means so much to them that you remember their names. It also means a lot to the stuffies if you know their names (they also are very nice to you if you remember their names and dont put bad idea in your littles head as they often do) 

-Know a few cute nicknames. Underrated, but my little loves cute nicknames. Princess, baby girl, kitten, little one, little girl, etc. 

-Find your ‘daddy voice’. It’s your strict, ‘you better stop it right now’ voice that you use on your little when they’re breaking a rule, or doing something bad. It works wonders. 

-Don’t be afraid to be their daddy in public. I’m not saying to make them call you daddy in front of other people (don’t do that. the people around you didn’t ask for you to expose your kink to them) but if she’s with friends and you hear her curse, you can look at her and raise your eyebrows. She’ll get the point. I tend to tap her on the butt as a warning, but if she does it more than once, ill whisper in her ear something like ‘princesses don’t curse like that. Timeout for you later’. 

-Know their little space triggers. There isn’t much I can say about that, other than to just know what puts her in little space. 

-Have fun! Don’t let the haters drag you down, cause I know there are a ton of them out there. Enjoy your awesome relationship. 

Sheriff Knows Best

Stiles/Derek, G, 2K words, Sheriff POV, Coffeeshop AU, matchmaker!Sheriff

(Credit for the title to @cobrilee!)

This is an expansion of the following idea, written by the lovely @artemis69:

the coffee!AU, where John goes to the same coffee shop every day, and there is this very grumpy, quiet barista that always makes him amazing coffee and keep the best pastries for him. And one day the Sheriff learns that Derek is the one to bake them all, so he decides: this will be my son in law, I need a reason to have this man in my family for at least forty to fifty years. Then he matchmakes with no subtility whatsoever, basically offering his only son on a silver plate, Stiles spluttering all the way (but he takes Derek’s number anyway because the guy is just amazingly cute)

John’s on his regular morning stroll when he stops in his tracks and takes in the brand-new coffee shop, complete with a banner advertising their opening day. The little corner space has been boarded up for over a year, and John had no idea it was opening today.

Any new businesses are a boon for Beacon Hills, especially family-run ones like this one is rumored to be, so John ducks inside. It’s warm and homey, and there’s a pair of young dark-haired people behind the counter, close enough in features that they’re probably siblings. The quiet bickering points that direction, too.

They stop, though, when they see the Sheriff—the uniform tends to have that effect—and he pastes on his public servant smile. “Hi there. I saw this place was open and wanted to come on in and introduce myself. Sheriff John Stilinski.”

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” the woman says, holding out her hand for a shake. A nice strong grip—John likes this girl already. “I’m Laura Hale, and I own this place with my brother Derek, our resident grumpy barista-slash-baker.”

Derek rolls his eyes at Laura, but his smile to John is genuine, if small. “Hi, Sheriff. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, son,” he says, perusing the case full of tempting sugary treats. “You made these?”

He nods. “Can I get you anything?”

John hums. “A medium coffee, and…any one of these delicious-looking goodies. You pick. Just don’t tell my son,” he adds, and Derek looks up at him.

“Your son?”

“I have slightly elevated cholesterol,” he says, stressing the word. “Nothing to worry about, honestly. But he polices my diet. I don’t think he knows about this place yet, though, so this is great.”

Derek hums. His tongs hover over a muffin—lemon poppyseed, it looks like—before moving to another one. Raspberry-almond, according to the sign, and well, John isn’t picky. Derek drops it into a little bag and hands it over.

“Happy to help,” he says.

John thanks him and opens the bag. Laura’s still pouring his coffee, but it smells so damn good that he can’t resist.

“Wow,” he says, his mouth full. “This is delicious.”

Derek looks quietly proud, and Laura claps him on the shoulder as she reaches over to hand John his coffee. “On the house, today, Sheriff,” she says. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he promises.


“Thanks, Nina,” John says dryly, leaning back so she can put his plate in front of him.

“You’re welcome, Sheriff,” she says with a friendly smile, ignoring his stink eye.

Stiles just grins at both of them and digs into his French toast. He insists on having their weekly father-son breakfast at Paulie’s Diner because no matter what John orders, Nina will only bring him an egg-white omelet with a dry English muffin. Stiles must have some serious blackmail or be paying her off somehow, and John is, he has to admit, grudgingly impressed.

“Don’t look so bummed out, Pops,” Stiles says, around a mouthful of what’s surely syrup-drenched deliciousness. “At least I let you have turkey bacon.”

“It’s not the same,” he says grumpily, poking at it. “But at least I’m getting a steady stream of baked goods now.”

Stiles glares at him. “Are you serious? From where? I thought I had paid everyone off.”

He knew it. “I’m not telling you,” he says, a little displeased with how childish he sounds.

“Fine,” Stiles says, sniffing. “I’ll figure it out, you know I will.”

He will, John knows. Goddamn, he loves his kid, even if his life goal seems to be depriving John from any and all delicious food. “And speaking of, I met someone the other day,” he starts, and Stiles gasps theatrically, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“Is this you crapping all over my dream of having Melissa as my stepmom?”

John sighs at the reminder. Melissa is…well, she seems happy with that Argent guy. Whatever. He’s not bitter.

“Not for me, Jesus,” he says, shaking his head. “For you.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles says, slumping back in the booth. “Eye roll” is too mild, John thinks. It’s more of a whole head roll. “Seriously, Dad, I’m only 25. You don’t have to marry me off quite yet. You’ll get your grandchildren someday, I promise. Stop trying to set me up with people.”

“I’m just trying to be helpful!” John protests. “He seems nice.”

And makes really good treats, he adds in his head. That’ll be a good trait for a son-in-law.

“And who exactly is he?”

John pauses. “I met him at the aforementioned undisclosed location.” 

Stiles snorts. “Find out if he actually likes dudes, then get back to me.”

“Okay,” he says seriously, and Stiles grimaces.

“No, Dad, don’t actually—”

Keep reading

  • Me: hmm this ship could seem wrong to some people maybe I should stop shipping it so much....
  • Random person: This ship is toxic and abusive and problematic and whoever ships this is disgusting and should die!!!
  • Me: ...... *ships ship 100x more*
Mute pt. 1

“What you do has no point.”
Lance just bites his lip to stop the tears from being released.
“I’m sorry.”
“What do you want me to say?” Keith growls.
He’s shaking and when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out.
“You know what? If you having nothing to say the you should keep your mouth shut.
Lance isn’t sure how much longer he can ignore the hateful words. He knows it’s not at him. Everyone’s has been on edge since Shiro’s disappearance, but he’s pretty sure that Keith has been directing all his anger at him.

At first Lance tried to be funny, keep his usual persona going…somebody had to keep the team normalcy going.
Sure it hurt a little, but Lance pretended it was part of his training regimen. Sometimes you have to take a few hits and it hurts. Keith’s hit were just verbal, and like training, sometimes the hits hurt, but the pain would go away…right?

“Keith… I know your mad cause this trail was another dead end…”
“Shut the Fuck up.”
“We’re going to find Shiro, it’s okay that…
“Shut the Fuck up.”
“Keith if you would just listen..!”
There is a red rage in Keith’s eyes.
“I said Shut the Fuck up! You know what? Do whatever the Fuck you want, you can do whatever the fuck you want.”
“Keith, hear me out…”

He was returned with silence.

It didn’t make any sense, and Lance knew he was just angry, but the silence hurt more than the words.

“Keith, please listen to me. Tell me you can hear me.”

The silence definitely hurt more than the words.

The worst part about this mission, there was no Hunk or Coran to lightened the blow. They had both been so positive that they found where Shiro was held captive that they were going to do this on their own, which made Keith that much more angry.

Keeping his distance, Lance and blue followed Keith and red back to the castle.
The others were waiting expectantly but when Keith threw his helmet to the ground and stormed past the other Paladins, it didn’t take them long to look at Lance for some answers.

“Dude, You Okay? Were you crying?”
Lance blinks away the tears he didn’t even know he was shedding.

“Yeah! Im…”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He pauses when he remember Keith yelling at him earlier. He’s never felt like he needed to lie to Hunk, but the verbal abuse he had dealt with earlier lingered in Lance’s head.

“Lance, what happened?” Hunk asked again after Lance went silent mid sentence.

“We’re okay, Um… no Shiro. Sorry.”
“Dude, it’s okay I’m just glad your both safe.”

“Shut the fuck up…. Keep your mouth shut.”

Lance doesn’t say anything this time, just nods his head.

I Will Cover You

My first Dream Daddy fic. I am officially in Smallmarch (Robert Small/Damien Bloodmarch) hell. No regrets. And of course my first foray is angst and fluff. A killer combination. Robert tries his best to take care of Damien after surgery. 

Cut for length, not for content, though do be aware that this fic depicts post-top surgery.

“Oh. It’s you.”

“If I had a dollar for everytime someone answered a door and said that to my face…anyway, yes. It’s me. Where’s your dad?”

Robert wished for a second that his hands weren’t full, a loaded grocery bag in one and an unopened bottle in the other. Otherwise, he could have just pushed past Lucien and gotten into the house. Instead, he had to play this whole game of Purposeful Small Talk. Which he hated almost as much as Pointless Small Talk.

“Isn’t it Goth Night at Jim and Kim’s? Maybe you should try there.”

“The closest thing Jim and Kim’s has to ‘Goth Night’ is ‘Dark Sullen Drunk Night,’ and since I’m not there, that’s not happening. Move it.”

Lucien didn’t budge, instead raising a perfectly lined brow at the whiskey in Robert’s hand. “You do actually know that he can’t drink right now, right?”

He didn’t. “So? This is for me.”

“…”

“Look, Lucy. This can go one of two ways. You can move out of my way, or I can come back armed with a fully-loaded Betsy. Your call.”

“Did you just threaten my life so you can hang out with my dad?”

“Maybe.” Really, it was more a threat on his allergies, but…whatever it took.

Lucien smiled, and moved aside with a dramatic flourish of his hand. “Impressive. You may enter.”

Keep reading

dandywondrous  asked:

The way you draw characters with little imperfections or with features most popular media would deem "unattractive" (like big noses - which is dumb bc they're gr8) makes them seem so much more human. Plus it makes me feel better about my own appearance tbh

I’d love to say that Buttons’ big nose was a deliberate decision, but honestly… it just looked better in the character creator than any other options. <_< I almost gave him a really nice chin+jawline too but then I was like - ok, that’s enough of good features for you. :P

Speaking of noses, I was just comparing Buttons+Alexis heads+features. She’s got quite the eyebrows under those bangs and I’m a little bit sad that I covered them with hair. She’s way more expressive+cute when you can see them.
And I’m seriously considering making that tattoo canon…

RFA and V + The First Time They Say I Love You

requested by anon and @josmottt - sorry it took so long! orz
it’s ya boy, back with another (overdue) headcanon / scenario post! i mean to post this for the longest time now, but i never got the chance to. i’ve got notes on this piece that i might post; who knows? also, this is really, really long, but i hope you enjoy it! yoosung’s continued scenario (as well as the scenario of the other members) is found under the cut.
this is essentially a sequel to RFA + When They Realize They’re in Love, but i did my best to make this a stand-alone scenario post! though i do recommend giving that a read just to build it up better :D a reblog/like would be greatly appreciated, and if you have any headcanon requests, feel free to send them my way! <3 enjoy!


RFA AND V + THE FIRST TIME THEY SAY “I LOVE YOU”

YOOSUNG

Yoosung feels like his heart is going to burst.

Normally, he wouldn’t be so nervous with playing video games. They were his food at this point, and he was so attuned to playing them that they became part of his daily life. Hell, he could probably live out his entire life with only video games to get him going. However, he had promised his mom that he was going to try to be healthier. Though, with the warmth of his object of affection right beside him, he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to last long with the state his heart was in.

The blond tries to focus on the wide screen and blaring speakers set up in front of him, but the way she nearly leaned against him, brushing his shoulder ever-so slightly with her own, was enough to make him chant all the prayers he knew under his breath. He told her he was doing a chant of victory, part of the game and all that. Yeah right, he thinks, taking a deep breath from all the praying he had subtly done. He dodged an incoming attack, letting the high-pitched squeak of [Name] bring him back to his senses.

“Damn, that was a close one!” he heard himself say, subtly taking a glance at the woman beside him. Yoosung had invited the woman to his home to play a co-op campaign of LOLOL, seeing as the other RFA members had turned down his offers. Stupid, he thinks to himself. What made him think his heart was ready for this? He plasters on a wide smile as she shoots him with one of her own. He hurriedly turns his attention to the bright screen, hoping the heated blush on his pale face wasn’t obvious.

Yoosung was pretty sure [Name] was fully aware of her feelings for him, which terrified him as he had never felt this way about anyone. What if he looked stupid in her eyes? He was certainly the most naïve one in RFA; he accepted that, but what if that was a huge turn off for her? She was practically the definition of perfection in his eyes, even if she reminded him over and over that she was far from it. All of her flaws, her insecurities, her everything- she was absolutely divine, and he was anything but.

((continued under cut))

Keep reading

You Are Home

Summary: Damon had found his home but there was never a happy ending. What he once lost can never be replaced or so he thought.

Pairings: Damon x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst

Word Count: 3985

It felt weird to write something this long but I hope you guys like this story as much as I loved writing it. Thank you for your continual support and patience, guys!

(gifs not mine, credits to owners)

Parties left and right, music played all damn night. There wasn’t a dull day when you moved to the city. You were a pretty little thing who socialized with a lot of people, knew the commoners, and met the newcomers. 1920’s was the glitz, glamour, and jazz. In your personal taste, you loved the 20’s as much as you loved being the King’s little princess, you being you, didn’t really like non-extravagant lifestyle.

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Star Above the Waters.

TW: major depictions of suicide and suicidal thoughts, major character death.

The icy cold drops of rain pierce deep into Lance’s tear strewn cheeks, pale with cold as he shivered. It was like little needles flecking his skin and leaving him numb and frigid.

Above him, storm clouds cracked and thundered and rolled, making a symphony of Mother Nature’s deadly desire.

Somewhere in front of him, the sky lit up with light like a match in a dark room, only now it was a lighting strike as it buried itself and made its mark somewhere in the world.

Good for it. It left a lasting impression when it was gone. Something Lance would never be able to accomplish.

He had tried countless times.

Either to be noticed, to be popular, to exist in the eyes of people who weren’t apart of his routine life.

He went to whatever lengths he could, tried to stay out of any negative situation.

Lance was always a people pleaser. He always did his very best to make sure everyone he encountered was left with something good to say about him when he was gone.

But any good start with anyone, would only crumble to bad in some way and have him in ruins. Failure.

It seemed like other people could do it just fine. They could be just like Lance and yet they would be the one to rise up in the world, while he was only sinking lower.

Literally and mentally.

Over the past few weeks Lance had got to thinking pretty hard about life. Not about how to go forward with it, what he could make of it, or even what he had planned in life as it went on.

Lance thought more so on the side of ending it. Which, in that way, could be counted as the same as making it better.

Or at least that’s how Lance saw it.

He’d been looking at the possibilities for weeks, like a kid in the candy store. Any way to get out of the world that he couldn’t stand up in, only put deeper and deeper into a hole that the people around him were digging for him.

In all honesty, maybe he had a shovel himself, but that had only been for a little while. It was a small shovel.

Hanging was out of the question. He read too many history books and seen too many movies to know that if it’s done with the slightest flaw, it won’t be easy.

You have to take in people’s height and weight, and the way the noose is tied in relativity to it all.

He would leave the math to Pidge.

Second option had been using those skills with a firearm that he had. But in all honesty that was too messy and he didn’t like the idea of risking it not going right, distorting his face for the rest of his life.

Although he knew the proper way was to put the shotgun directly behind his ear, he didn’t want to wimp out at something only he could control. Pull the trigger or not, there’s too much room for mind changing.

Lance had already tried pills. But he had already been on so many medications to numb the race of his heart, the workings of his mind, all the boy had gotten in return was a nice euphoria for a few hours.

The stomach pumping afterward wasn’t as pleasant, so again there is too much room for flaw. It needed to be just right.

So here he was.
Standing atop this mere ledge as the thing he loved most fell down around him.

You may be thinking that there is too much chance of let go or not let go, fall or not fall, in this scenario.

But that’s why he chose today of all days.
This ledge of all ledges. It was perfect.

Below the 3 ½ inch strip of concrete his feet balanced on, roared the sea. Lance had always loved the water.

A lighthouse. Dark. 5 pm.

Lance had learn most suicides happened between the times of noon and six in the evening, so why not just blend in with the crowd, since he could never stand out in it?

It was about 230 feet tall from the water, and here Lance stood at 198 feet above.

The boy closed his eyes, which were warm with tears but the rain made his skin cold. He felt a swaying motion, and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

Everything has an expiration date, whether human or animal or thing.

Nothing doesn’t not come to an end.

It can be chosen by you or for you.
Expected or unexpected.

A thought came to his head, standing hundreds of feet above the water that would soon become one with him and finalize his expiration date.

Lance had always tried to stand out, take risks, try and be noticed and try to be civil.

How come he lived in a world where ‘Take A Life’ was something all you had to do was turn on the television to hear. A social norm almost, something sad, but no you don’t really try and think about it that much.

But ‘Take A Chance’? How is it fair that it seems almost impossible, scary even. Frowned upon, because why would you do that?

What sort of world was that?

Lance lifted on hand from the hold behind him, wiping his cheeks. If he lifted the other, he would fall.

He leaned forward, his free hand swaying at his side as he stared at the back of his eyelids. That questioned repeated itself.

What kind of world is that?

Lance shook his head with a low chuckle, a sad sound that made it past his lips but was then snatched away by the wind.

A tired voice muttered, “Not the kind I want to live in.” With those words, Lance let go.

That wasn’t Lance.
None of them would believe that it was Lance, because how could it be?

It was held in a splayed out position, head back and mouth open, eyes closed.

It’s body was on the verge of turning blue, and had already bloated. It must have been there for hours.

It was dead. A dead, blue thing.

And even though it wore the same clothes, they all refused to believe it was the happy Cuban boy they had come to love and care for, even if he annoyed them sometimes.

They’d gone looking for him after he hadn’t shown up for dinner, and wasn’t back by ten at night.

Keith suggested they go out with flashlights.

Pidge who said wait a little longer.

Shiro who said he’d wait and see if he came back while they were out.

Hunk who found the note on Lances desk.
Shiro who read it out loud, and ran.
Pidge is the one who found it.

The body.

And it was Lance who was dead.

‘I knew someday I’d probably have to write a will or something, you know that thing old people write and families break over.

But I guess I didn’t know I’d be writing my own suicide note. Things had been pretty okay for me as a child.

I wanted to go to space, or become a marine biologist. Stars and water, either one was perfect for me because I loved them both.

Maybe I should say I’m sorry, because that’s what everyone else writes, but I’m not going to.

It would be like saying sorry for the milk expiring, or the toy that broke. I’m just another thing that had an end coming.

We all do.
But I’m not sorry.

I got to see the water, be apart of it, and I know I probably won’t look very pretty when you find me but I didn’t bother to put any makeup on when I woke up for the last time this morning.

Don’t worry, if you look up at night, I’ll look so much better as a star. Among those that I had always wanted to see.

Pidge, you’re such a strong woman and you’re smarter than I could have ever been. When you invent a code that makes memories a reality, please don’t forget about me by then and visit the good ones we had, okay?

Keith, at least from up here I can look down on your mullet, and pretend it looks a lot better than it actually is. Also, do me a favor and make sure Hunk is okay after this. You two seem close to an extent, he is going to need someone to go to. ((If he makes you something to eat, EAT IT.))

Hunk, thank you so much for being my best friend and my brother for all of these years. You’re a good bro, and I’ll make sure to put a good word in up here for you so you can be the Big Guy’s head chef. (Only if I get some snacks though.) I’m trusting you to keep Pidge in check, and make sure you feed those little mice in the shed. I love you.

Shiro, please please watch them all for me. And take care of yourself. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m not helping any, but use them as your support and you as theirs. It’s okay to need someone, everyone needs another. Just make sure they have you, and each other, because I don’t want any of you to end up like me. Stay rad, space Dad.

I don’t care what you do with me, but whatever you do I want to be by the ocean. My final final resting place. Spread my ashes, bury my grave. Just make sure they play Beyoncé at the funeral.

You guys are out of this world.
See you later.

~ Lancey Lance
The Tower - Chapter 7

The Tower: An Avengers Fanfic

Chapter 7 

Chapter:  one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

Word Count: 1975

Warnings: Sex mentions (super pg.) Fluff, comedy stuff

Synopsis: After spending the night with Tony, Elly meets Sam and Wanda. Elly learns more about the dynamic of the Tower.

Author’s Note: Co-written with @emilyevanston


Chapter 7 - A Bird and a Witch

I woke tangled with Tony.  His face was pressed into my neck and breathing that steady rhythmic way you do when you’re deep in sleep.  I wanted to let him sleep.  I really did, but I had to get up.  I attempted so carefully to untangle myself without disturbing him.

His arms closed around me and he pulled me in more tightly to him.  “What time is it?”  He mumbled against my skin.

“It’s eight A.M. sir,”  FRIDAY replied.

“God, it’s been forever since I slept for so long.”  Tony sighed, stretching out.  “I really needed to get laid.  I’m definitely keeping you around.”

I laughed and scratched my fingers over his stomach.  “Happy to be of service.”

Tony rolled onto his side and traced circles onto my hips.  “Eight is very late here, but if we take our time having a shower.  We could go up to the common room and you might catch some of them having their after workout breakfast.  Plus it’s Saturday so apart from Red, who’s still on mission, everyone has the day off.”

Keep reading

  • Autistic Lance who had to force himself to act neurotypical his entire life because he wanted to prove he was “good enough”
  • Autistic Lance who hid the fact that he was autistic from the Garrison bc he was afraid they would treat him differently
  • Autistic Lance who either took twice or half as long as other cadets to learn things, and was constantly told by teachers that he could do better, he wasn’t trying hard enough
  • Autistic Lance who loves infodumping and always has so much to say!! Let the boy speak!!
  • (Him and Pidge bond over that and spend hours talking about their special interests)
  • Autistic Lance who seems to be very comfortable in social situations, but always needs time to recharge after talking to people for too long
  • Autistic Lance relearning how to stim now that he feels safe and accepted by his fellow paladins!!
  • Autistic Lance!!
Let’s Have Another

Pairings: Bucky x Reader || Steve x Natasha

Summary: Bucky gets broody.

Warnings: Fluff. Implied/referenced smut. Possibly mild language.

Notes: For @bucky-plums-barnes‘ writing challenge. Congrats on 8k, my darling Gen! My prompt was #28: “Can we have another baby.” This is in bold somewhere in the fic.

My Masterlist

——————————

“Sarah—honey, no! Don’t eat that!” Steve cries, leaping up from the picnic blanket and rushing over to the kids. He scoops his one-year-old daughter into his arms and shoves a finger into her mouth, trying to dig out the…whatever it is she ate. Natasha watches on, an amused smile on her face.

“Honestly Barnes, your daughter is a bad influence on my child,” she sighs, twisting her head to fake-glare at you and Bucky.

“Becca?”, Bucky gasps, feigning surprise, “Our daughter is an angel, Tasha, she would never do something like that,”.

Keep reading

Imagine Dean being jealous when you have a date and failing in hiding it.

“Will you just stop that?” Sam’s voice laced with annoyance broke the silence that had surrounded the three of them. Well, almost silence if we could exclude Dean’s constant foot taping.

“Stop what?” Dean asked in a gruff voice and the only thing Sam did was give him a bitch face.

“You know what.” Sam huffed “That!” he pointed at him and that wa the only moment Dean realized what he was actually doing, a deep frown was still set on his face but much to Sam’s liking he stopped tapping his foot.

“Why does it bother you in the first place?” Dean huffed like a little child, crossing his arms over his chest with almost a small pout; making his mother grin softly.

“I don’t know- why does it bother you that (Y/n)’s going on a date?” Sam asked back sassily and Dean glared hard at his younger brother. No sooner had he said the words that Dean’s foot resumed to the tapping impatiently, making Sam only roll his eyes.

“What does that even mean now?” Dean asked defensively but Sam didn’t respond, he only rolled his eyes. He hadn’t gotten his brother to confess how he felt about you when he was calm, much less now that jealousy clouded his vision.

Dean pursed his lips as his eyes moved uneasily around the room, every two seconds glancing in the direction he expected you to show up. He huffed and shuffled in his place all the time.

“Seriously Dean!” Sam exclaimed, shutting his book closed “Enough alright!?”

“What’s up with you?” Dean gave him a look “Why are you so on edge today?”

“Me? I am on edge!?” Sam rolled his eyes in disbelief “Dude are you kidding me?! You haven’t stopped moving and huffing and puffing all the time! You’re so jealous but won’t even admit it!”

“Wh-what?!” he squeaked out, making Mary giggle at the expression he had on his face “I’m- I’m not jealous!” his voice rose an octave and Mary had to bite her lip to keep herself from straight forward laughing right in his face.

“Dean, sweetie-” she started, her too having realized long ago how much her son was bothered by this date of yours only because it didn’t involve him but another man.

“What?! Mom no!” he exclaimed, shaking his head “I’m- I’m not jealous ok? Stop it!” his voice got gruff and he shook his head, not looking at them as his face had started getting all the more red “I’m not jealous.” he grumbled like a little stubborn kid.

“Are you trying to convince us or yourself?” Sam asked with a small smirk and Dean glared hard at his brother, crumbling a piece of paper and throwing it at him.

“Hey kids! Easy!” Mary got stern for a moment.

“Not my fault he’s being a bitch!” Dean exclaimed “I didn’t even bother him and he-”

“Didn’t even what? Dude you’ve been tapping your foot impatiently for like that past one hour! I couldn’t read a fucking sentence or Chuck’s sake!” Sam threw his arms in the air “If you are so bothered by her being with someone else then tell her so!”

“I’m not fucking bothered Sam!”

“Really?” Sam raised his eyebrows “Because last time you saw the guy you almost pulled a gun on him.”

“Well, it’s not my fault he was walking in the darkness like some thief. Besides, what could he be doing here at such a time of the night?”

“I don’t know, probably spend the night with his girlfriend or something? You’re a grown man, Dean, you know how it goes.” Sam said with a smirk that only got bigger once he saw Dean’s anger rise.

“Shut up.” he growled, not really angry at him but at the man that lately had taken the empty place in your bed he usually liked to occupy when using your friendship and movie-nights as an excuse.

“Alright- that’s enough.” Mary pursed her lips “Dean-” she turned to her oldest son, giving him a soft smile “There’s nothing wrong with that, you know it right?”

“Damn it mom-” he rolled his eyes “I told you I’m not jealous!”

“Of course you’re not, just like you have no reason to be upset in the first place because you and (Y/n) are only friends. Aren’t you Dean?” Sam asked, the I-told-you-so look written all over his face.

“Shut up.” Dean grumbled, not looking at his brother. He knew that Sam was right but it wasn’t that which bothered him-but the words that were a fact. You were only friends, sure best friends and had a kind of bond that could not be described, but despite everything he couldn’t tell you who to date or not. He didn’t have a say in your love life, much to his disappointment.

“Right, of course you wouldn’t answer that.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Will you stop it?” he asked in a low voice, more serious now and finally looking at him.

“Dean” Mary spoke more softly, not teasing Dean the way the younger Winchester was “If you really are bothered by this-then why don’t you do something to change it?”

“What do you mean?” he frowned and she smiled at him. She had not been around for as long as Sam had, or you and Cas for that matter but from the very first moments- hell, from the moment he saw you and Dean interact when he came to the bunker she was absolutely sure about one thing that came to her older son: he was utterly and hopelessly in love with you.

But that didn’t mean it was easy. She knew that as much as Dean loved you he was still willing to sacrifice everything, including his happiness, to make sure you were alright and out of harm’s way. It seemed to be a Winchester thing, reminding Mary so much of her own husband. And as that he was now willing to stand by and let you be with another man only because he wasn’t a hunter and could offer you a better – according to him – life, even if in the meanwhile his jealousy would eat him alive.

“You know very well what I mean Dean.” she shook her head softly “Maybe she is oblivious to what is going on but- you can’t fool me. I know you like the back of my hand and this- it’s hurting you, Dean. More than it’s making you jealous.”

“I’m not jealous mom.” Dean huffed and Sam scoffed loudly.

“That’s what he calls being annoyed even by the guy’s name. Not jealous.”

“I don’t get annoyed at the mere mention of his name!” Dean defended.

“Really? Because I think I remember someone that looked an awful lot like you sitting in that very same place saying ‘Shannon? Seriously where did she find that guy? And that name? Hell, Shannon and a drummer? I can only imagine what a douche he can be! Tattoos everywhere, rolling through town no strings attached dude!’ Unless of course it was ashapeshifter and I didn’t realize it.” Sam said matter-of-factly with a smirk mocking him by repeating what Dean had said just three months ago, and Dean growled, rolling his eyes.

“Point is-” Mary intervened, giving a stern look to the younger Winchester “If you don’t like this then- you can change it. Just talk to (Y/n), tell her everything. And above all what you feel, trust me you’re not going to regret it. Come on Dean, don’t let her go out tonight. Talk to her, tell her everything Dean.”

Dean opened his mouth to speak but he didn’t have the chance to as you walked in and interrupted them “So?” you asked with a nervous smile and the moment Dean took a look at you he felt all air get knocked out of his lungs.

“What do you think?” you fidgeted nervously with your hands as they all took a look at you. You hadn’t done anything special, simple make up, simple hairstyle and a pretty floral dress on giving all kinds of summer vibes as it left your arms and legs on full display. It wasn’t something you usually went for and not something he was used to seeing you in but god was it a pleasant surprise and change.

Sadly it wasn’t for him.

“You’re… wow.” Dean breathed out and felt his heart leap to his throat once he saw your smile widen and your eyes sparkle with happiness.

“You look amazing (Y/n).” Sam said sweetly.

“Really?” you breathed out “I mean it’s not something I really wear but-” you bit your lip “I just wanted to give it a try and… yeah.” you laughed nervously and before he could realize it Dean was up on his feet and walking to you.

“Sweetheart-” he cupped your face with both his hands “You’re stunning.” he whispered with adoration written all over his face “He- He’s the luckiest man on Earth to be with a woman like you.”

“You think so?” you smiled but still frowned at the expression on his face.

“Absolutely”

And although he had plenty of time to speak, he didn’t. He didn’t say anything, instead only watched as he came and picked you up and tried to force a smile on his face. He tried to be happy for you but despite his jealousy there was still something else in his chest holding him back. Pure pain.

Slytherin!Tom AU - Three

One | Two // Four | Epilogue

Artwork for Slytherin!Tom & Hufflepuff!Reader made by my love Bila aka @trashholland 💚🖤 + 💛🖤 (I literally cried, thank you so much again. I love you!)


“So, you up for it?” I laughed lightly, taking Tom’s proposal as a joke. We had been hanging around each other for a few weeks now – almost a month and a half, actually. We hadn’t been on an ‘actual’ date, hell, I didn’t even know if that’s what Tom wanted. Sometimes he’d come off as more friendly than usual, then he’d distance himself. We only ever really talked outside of class, when he wasn’t around his Slytherin path. Something like that might’ve thrown me off, but he had defended me every time one of his ‘friends’ ridiculed me. So, I left it alone.

“A quidditch match?” Tom shrugged, sitting up on my bed as he watched me pace around, looking for my Charms book. “Why would I want to go to a quidditch match? I don’t even thoroughly understand it.” Tom laughed, causing me to smile, just like his laugh always did.

“I don’t know! We could go together – my buddy’s part of the team–.”

“And by ‘buddy’ you mean Nicholas? The same Nicholas who doesn’t make his disgust toward me the least bit subtle?” Tom’s shoulders slouched – I knew he wasn’t anything like Nicholas, which made me confused as to why he’d want to associate himself with him. “I’m sorry, I just don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?” I could tell Tom was quickly becoming annoyed with the subject, but I couldn’t drop it. I wanted – no, needed – to know why Tom gave Nicholas the time of day.

“Why are you friends with him?” Drop it, Hufflepuff. I shook my head, trying to shake the voice inside of my head out – trying to silence the rational part of me.

“This again?” Tom got up from the bed, walking up to me. “Nicholas – he’s been my friend since I was assigned Slytherin – a lot of people didn’t think I belonged here. They punked me around – Nick, he saw something in me.”

“And that’s your standard? Nicholas’ standards are yours? That seems a little low, in my opinion. You could be so much better–!” Tom’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, his breaths quick as he walked up to me, causing me to stumble back slightly, colliding with my desk.

“Better? Like who? Like you, Hufflepuff?” I visibly shrunk, not hearing my house name come out so venomously from Tom – only hearing the word stumble out of his nervous lips as he fumbled for his words when I gave him the flower. “That’d be nice, right? If everyone was all smiles, ‘thank you’s’, rainbows and shit like you guys, right?” I shook my head, swallowing thickly to relieve my dry throat.

“No, Tom I–!”

“You what? You didn’t know this was coming? I’m a fucking Slytherin, for christ’s sake. What the fuck did you expect?” I kept quiet, my hands trembling from Tom’s sudden outburst, not realizing his voice had risen until he cleared his throat. He shook his head at me. “You know what? Don’t bother coming to the game.” He started to walk away and toward the door, causing me to reach my hand out and grasp onto his wrist.

“Tom, wait,” my hand fell back to my side after Tom forcefully pulled his hand away from mine.

“We should just – not be around each other. ‘You could be so much better’.” He mocked my words from earlier. I shook my head, my bottom lip quivering slightly.

“Tom, that isn’t – that’s not what I meant.” He shrugged.

“Maybe not – but maybe it’s what you should have said.” And before I could say anything else, he was out of my door. I groaned, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip to stop myself from crying. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Keep reading

Flood my Mornings: Ian (V)

Notes from Mod Bonnie

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment: Ian (IV): Bree arrives at the hospital



July 22, 1951


“MUMMY!!!” 

Even in the still-foggy and damned painful state of new deliverance, there was the purest and clearest joy in my heart as I reached up to intercept my daughter from Jamie’s arms. “Oh, lovey—” I crushed her tight to my chest and burrowed my face into her hair. “I’m so glad you’re here—I’ve missed you so much.”

“Miss’t you more,” came the muffled reply. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that, little smudge,” I murmured, smoothing back her hair and exhaling deeply with the sheer relief and joy of having her near, of knowing she was safe and mine.  I found myself noticing the differences of her scent from Ian’s, the knowledge soothing and somehow vital as it settled in my senses. My son. My daughter. 

She pushed back against my shoulders, far enough to bestow a sloppy kiss. “Feelin’ all better?”

I grinned, touched. “MUCH bett—”

“Where is-he?”

“What, seeing your Mummy isn’t the whole reason you drove all this way??” 

Wherrrre?” she insisted, beaming with excitement. 

“Here, a leannan.” Jamie, three steps ahead as always, had retrieved the baby from Penelope’s loving embrace and was already at my elbow. 

Unswaddled against the heat of the day, Ian seemed even more tiny and fragile. My heart stabbed with a wild, heartbreaking anxiety to see his limbs, so incredibly thin and vulnerable in their cotton suit. 

Still, I eased as I felt the warm weight of his head settling securely into the crook of my arm, as I felt the reassuring pressure of Jamie’s hand over mine. “Bree?….This is your little brother.”

Brianna, on her knees, half-facing and half-leaning on me, peered down into Ian’s face….and issued a tiny, inarticulate squeak. 

“Can you say hello?” I nudged, watching her intently and grinning like an idiot. 

She beamed up at me, then Jamie, and then back down at Ian’s sleeping face, absolutely speechless. 

“We’ve two of them now, mo chridhe,” Jamie murmured against my temple, sounds from Penelope’s camera from the other side of the room promising that this moment would be captured forever.  

Two,” I whispered back, my heart unspeakably full, our children there in our arms. 

He reached out and softly touched Bree’s cheek. “What do ye think of baby Ian, cub?” 

“Beeyin?” Bree, coming out of her rapt reverie, looked at Ian, then gave me a look of half-horrified fascination as though things were suddenly dropping into place. “ACK-shlee he came out y’r tummy?”

I held back most of the laughter, though it was damned difficult, what with Jamie shaking beside me like my own personal earthquake. “He actually did.”

Wow…” she whispered, looking back to Ian. “Good job, Mummy!” Bree snuggled closer, all but lounging ON the baby in her need to see him up close. “He’s really….all—” A tiny, squealing sigh that might have been ‘cute’. 

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” I murmured, splitting my gaze between them. “And he’s all new. All ours.” 

“I can hold him?” 

After a bit of shifting about, we settled at last with Bree between us on the bed and a pillow laid crosswise on her outstretched legs. Carefully, I eased Ian down onto the cushion, his tiny stockinged-feet curled up against her belly. 

“Now, mind his head,” Jamie instructed Bree, a protective hand hovering by Ian’s ear just in case. “Ye must always be careful wi’ a wean’s head.”

Bree leveled her father with a look of haughty scorn that would have brought any professionally-trained actor to shame. ”I’ll be careful of all him, Daddy.” 

Completely oblivious to the laughter from the adults in the room, she returned her attention to her new charge, all serene smiles. “He’s all soft…” Bree ran a finger very gingerly across his cheek, across the full pink lips, pouted in sleep. “… like a blanket.”

“Verra soft indeed,” Jamie murmured, his hand, shifting up ever so slightly to stroke the shocks of downy hair. 

“Why’s he ‘sleep?”

I kissed the top of her head, remembering when it, too, could fit easily in my hand. “So he can grow up big and strong like you.”

“Oh…good.” She picked up one of his hands, grinning. “Hi, Beeyin,” she cooed. “….Glad you’re, um….glad you’re been born….“

Jamie’s eyes were the deepest blue I’d ever seen them, crinkled and warm in the midday light of the room as he watched the two of them…then smiled at me.  

“We’ll play a lot…..You can play wi’ George all you wanna, okay?” 

Ian responded to the gracious offer of Bree’s favorite toy rabbit by dreamily searching for milk with his tongue. 

“An’—” Bree went on, making her overtures with a distinctly Fraser-like solemnity, “—an’—won’t let any snakes bite you. Because love, okay?”

Snakes? I mouthed to Jamie over her head. 

Tell ye later, he mouthed back with a grin, and then both of us nearly jumped out of our skins when Bree GASPED.  

“Jees—”

“Wh—” 

He’s ‘wake!!” she whisper-screamed. 

And sure enough, Ian Fraser was blinking up at his sister with an expression that could only be described as ‘perplexed’, brows furrowed and mouth in a perfect O of concentration,

All three of us stared down, entranced, as Ian slowly brought his hands up toward his face. The tiny fingers fanned out as he stretched in a great yawn, making us all gasp in unison from delight and love. 

“He’s—like a little person!” Bree declared, sounding unsure as to whether to cry or laugh at this revelation; though likely the former, from the happy quaver in her voice. A wonderful human being, this little lass was. My sweet, sweet love. 

“He’s watching you, Bree,” I whispered into her ear, a little choked. Ian was intent upon her, in fact, his watery eyes following the slightest of her movements. 

“I’m watchin’ him, too,” she said. A promise. 

Bree kissed her brother on the forehead. Jamie’s arm came around behind her to encircle my waist. I nuzzled my head against his as I stroked Ian’s hair.  We all, even Ian, exhaled as one. 

The camera clicked, and it was set in stone. The four of us. Forever. 


Thin Walls |Jack Avery|

|Word Count - 1.9K+|

|Request - Yes|

It was abrupt, it was unexpected. It came out of nowhere and she didn’t know what to do. So she ran, she ran to what she called her second home. She beat on the door with tears rushing down her face, sobs crawling up her throat. The door opened slowly, the boy behind it confused. Eyes widening when he saw the state his friend was in, he pulled her close hugging the girl. She buried her head in his chest, words being choked out as she tried to explain. He hushed the girl, kissing the top of her head as he rocked her back and forth. 

“It’s late, let’s go and sleep.” He mumbled locking the door behind the both of them. Lifting the girl, he softly trudged up the stairs not wanting to make the girl feel uncomfortable. It hurt, it felt as if the oxygen was being ripped from his lungs. He couldn’t bear to watch the girl he loved suffer but neither could he find the strength to confess his feelings to the girl he called his best friend.

He kicked the door shut behind him before walking towards the bed. He sat the tired girl down on the edge before bending down to take her shoes off. Tiredness and pain swirled in her orbs as she tried to wipe away the silent tears that ran down her cheeks. Throwing the shoes to the wall, he turned the light off before sitting on the bed with the girl.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He questioned letting the girl lean her head against his shoulder. She shook her head no. not being able to find the voice to speak.

“I just want to lay down Jack.” He nodded understandingly as he pulled his sheets back letting the girl get under. His heart broke at the sound of her harsh intakes, she was trying to suppress the tears. He pulled the covers up to his shoulders letting the girl cuddle into his chest. He rubbed her back listening to her breathing as it started to regulate. After a while, he looked down at her frowning at the pain that resided in her facial expression. Even though she was sleeping, he could tell she was hurting. Feeling the drowsiness, Jack pressed a kiss to her forehead before shutting his eyes. 

“I love you.” He hadn’t thought of it as the three words slipped through his lips. If only he could tell her to her face while she was awake.

—–

“Where is she?” Daniel asked Jack patting his friend on the shoulder. Daniel had heard them last night at the door but he figured Jack had it under control. It hurt Daniel to see his friend suffering from his feelings. Jack had loved her for so long but he didn’t want to dump his feelings onto her. Daniel understood but he could tell that it was breaking Jack and he didn’t know what to do for his friend.

“Upstairs sleeping. She was crying so much and I didn’t know how to help.” Jack whispered with his hands in his face. He took an intake of breath thinking of how she was crying and how she couldn’t even bring herself to speak. It hurt just as much as it hurt her.

“Go shower, I’ll take care of her if she wakes up.” Daniel offered a soft smile as he gave Jack a quick hug. Nodding Jack went back upstairs to his room. Grabbing the stuff he needed, he kept glancing at the girl to make sure she wasn’t up. He didn’t want her to know he was hurting, she would see it on his face. With one more look, Jack slowly exited the room shutting the door behind him. If only feelings were easier to deal with.

—–

“Daniel?” Daniel turned around hearing his name being called by a familiar voice. He turned to find her slouched against the counter. She offered a small smile as she took a seat at the island.

“Want some breakfast?” Daniel sheepishly offered half of his bagel making her let out a small chuckle as she took the food from him. The both of them ate in silence, thoughts running through their heads. Daniel glanced at the girl to find her with her head in her hands. He slowly put his half eaten bagel down before looking back at her.

“Want to talk about it?” He asked making her look up at him with bleary eyes. She was angry with herself, even more confused. She didn’t know how to speak of it in slow words without bursting into tears. Taking a breath, she crossed her arms before speaking.

“Daniel I d-didn’t know.” She whispered making him give her a look of confusion. 

“Know what?” He questioned making her feel unsteady.

“We were going on a date, Taylor, and I. We were both extremely happy, it seemed as if nothing could wrong. Jack had texted me asking about some gift for Zach and while I was responding Taylor completely lost it. He started shouting telling me he couldn’t do it anymore. How he couldn’t let Jack take me away from him. I was so confused, Taylor wasn’t making any sense. He told me that maybe I didn’t know, but he knew, he knew that I loved Jack. More than friends, in a way where I couldn’t live without Jack. He knew I loved Jack more than him and he knew Jack loved me just as much. I denied it but he wouldn’t listen to me.” She ranted tugging at her soft locks. Daniel came to her side of the island pulling her into a hug. It all made sense to Daniel as he pieced it together, she loved Jack.

“He dropped me off here, he couldn’t deal with my sobbing. Something clicked this morning, waking up to Jack.What Taylor said is true, I love him and I don’t know how to tell him.” She croaked leaning into Daniel. He nodded understanding what she meant.

“Go talk to him. Tell him (Y/N), it’s the best thing to do. You can’t continue to have a friendship with buried feelings.” Daniel whispered into her hair. She nodded wiping the tears away before getting off of the stool. Daniel gave her hand a small squeeze before letting her go. Wrapping her arms around her midsection, she slowly walked up the stairs contemplating on how she would tell Jack. Passing the bathroom door, she stopped when she heard crying past the sound of running water. 

“Hello?” Jack quickly covered his mouth trying to suppress the sobs. He hadn’t meant to be that loud. How was he going to explain why he was crying this early in the morning?

“Jack is t-that you?” She whispered into the crease of the door so Jack could hear her better. Huffing when she didn’t get a response, she jiggled the door handle to find it unlocked.

“I’m going to come in okay?” Jack hesitantly shut the water off before wrapping a toilet around his bare torso.

“Hold on.” She swore she heard his voice break with two words. Jack leaned his damp forehead against the cool wooden door. Was letting her in the best option?

“Listen, we have very thin walls and I heard you crying in the shower, are you okay?” She asked through the door making him let out a small sigh. Jack shut his eyes, tears being forced to leave.His emotions got the best of him as the tears started to fall.

“No, yes not really.” He mumbled feeling fucked over by his feelings. 

“Can I come in?” She asked backing up a little as she grabbed the doorknob. When she didn’t hear him disagree, she slowly opened the door gasping at the amount of steam that was in the bathroom. Jack was slumped against the wall, head in his hands. She took a seat on the floor next to him, noticing that he was still wet. He had in the shower for a long time, his fingers were pruney and pink looking. She leaned her head on his shoulders, wrapping her arm around his backside. He exhaled, he swore his throat was tightening up.

“Jack, I need to tell you s-” He cut her off, abruptly looking at her with bloodshot eyes. Her eyes softened when she realized he was in pain. What could’ve happened?

“No, I need to tell you something. Actually, I’ve been trying but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t see you suffer, it hurt so much. I couldn’t stand to see with him, Taylor never treated you right. You were fighting for someone who wouldn’t fight for you. IT was frustrating, seeing you come over with a frown because Taylor had said some bullshit. It hurt so much but last night when you came over sobbing, breaking in my own hands. I was angry with myself, I could’ve prevented that. I could’ve told you.” He rushed out looking at her. She shut her eyes, not wanting him to see the oncoming tears.

“Told me what?” She whispered making chills creep down his spine. Realizing there was nothing to lose, Jack took a deep breath before he spoke the foreign words.

“I-I love you, so much and I was scared. Scared that if I told you, I would burden my feelings on you. I didn’t want you to feel like I was trying to rip you away from Taylor. You seemed so happy and I didn’t want to ruin that. If you don’t feel the same way, I und-” She cut off his ranting by placing a hand on the back of his head. He leaned into the touch, not knowing if she would ever touch him the same way.

“That’s the thing, Jack I love you. So fucking much. It took me so long to realize that you were so much better than Taylor. The signs were there, I was just blind and in denial. Something clicked, I woke up before you this morning. Seeing you lying there, tousled curls and multiple imperfections that I find so perfect. I realized that I want to wake up to that for the rest of my life. I love you, Jack Avery, I always will.” A smile found its way to Jacks chapped lips as he wondered what he had done to deserve such a girl.

“Can I kiss you now?” He mumbled eyes running from her lips to her eyes. She slowly nodded anticipating the feeling of Jack’s lips on hers. Jack let his legs go flat on the ground before pulling the girl on his lap. Her hand slipped from the back of his head down to his collarbone. Giving her one last look, he pulled her forward pressing a soft kiss onto her lips. He could’ve sworn he felt all the pain and doubt slip away as their lips molded together. Her hands ran up to the back of his neck pulling him into the kiss. His arms reached around her waist, clasping around what he could now say was his. They both pulled back, slight pants escaping their slightly swollen lips. Her heart felt warm as she leaned her forehead against his. They both looked at each other before letting out small laughs.

“Thank you Daniel.” Jack mumbled to himself thankful that his friend had pushed him towards this opportunity. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she closed her eyes content with the outcome.

“Bless Daniels heart.”

|OMGGGGGG I’M FINALLY DONE. I LOVED HOW DANIEL PLAYED A ROLE IN THIS, I LOVE HIM AND JACK S MUCH. FEEDBACK WOULD BE LOVELY AND PLEASE SEND IN REQUESTS!|

Jealousy

Request: Draco and Y/N are best friends, but he starts dating Pansy. Y/N is in love with Draco so she distances herself from him because she hates to see them together. It hurts him emotionally when she avoids him because he’s in love with her but thought he didn’t have a chance, and he finally confesses.

⇢  Draco x Slytherin Reader; no Voldemort; requests are paraphrased


“We need to talk.”

You raised an eyebrow and looked around the genial Slytherin common room. A soft green glow settled, casting a calming shadow in the bustling space. “Then talk.”

“In private.”

Ignoring the ooh sounds made by Crabbe and Goyle, you stood up and followed Draco to his dormitory. “Is something bothering you?”

“No,” he replied, sitting down on his bed, his head resting on his arms. Feeling your weight next to him, he sighed. “Yes. Maybe. I’m not sure.”

You folded your arms as you leaned against the headboard, peering at the small slither of Draco’s exposed face. “I’ve been your friend for all these years, yet I’ve never seen you look this disgruntled.”

Best friend,” he corrected, giving you a slight smile. 

“Who knows you more than anyone,” you agreed. “So, tell me, then. Who’s the girl?”

“How did you know this is about a girl–” Draco ran his fingers through his hair and adjusted his body to face yours. “Forget it. That was an idiotic question. You know me too well.”

“Of course.” You stretched your legs across his lap. “What’s the problem, then? Afraid she doesn’t like you?”

“Afraid she likes me too much, more like.”

You shook your head and stared up at the ceiling in mock disdain. “What a hard life it must be, being Draco Malfoy. How terrible it seems for all the girls to fall for your bad boy facade.” You shot him a sympathetic glance. “Sounds rough.”

“But the only girl that matters won’t fall for me.” Draco paused and looked at you theatrically. “Or so she claims. I believe she has something else to tell me…”

This has been an on-going joke between you and Draco for a while now, but lately, when he’d kid about liking you, you caught your heart skipping a beat. Of course, every time that happened, you would shove your unbearable feelings away in disgust.

“Keep dreaming, Malfoy.” You looked down, examining your manicured nails. “Well? Aren’t you going to tell me which girl you’re talking about?”

Keep reading

To insecure self typed INXJs (and others needing insight in Fi/Fe distinction)

SUBMITTED by rainismyfavouritecolour

This is a personal, very recent discovery that I’m indeed INFJ. It took me a very long time to understand, but now that I’m finally here, I want to share this with you.

Maybe you’ve been told you don’t look like an INFJ. Maybe you can’t fully identify with hunches or always being right. You might have read a ton of Ni vs Ne descriptions and found the Ni one always more accurate, but were too filled with self doubt to really go with it.

There’s no surefire method I can tell you will work for you, other than continuous study of the functions and yourself. But maybe some of what I’ve written will help you identify yourself better. This is my very subjective experience only, but I’m sharing it in hopes that this will help at least some of you.

— O —

On Ni:

I get hunches. Constantly. And I go with them so fast, I don’t even notice. It’s an immediate reaction, a bolt of lightning hitting me from above. The reason I didn’t realize it before was because I was much more insecure and self doubting. I didn’t pay enough attention to this happening, nor did I trust it. Instead of implicitly trusting myself, I constantly analyzed and questioned, wondered if I was wrong - running around in constant circles. But tuning into myself a bit more, I caught it. I took it for so granted and natural before, I didn’t see what was meant by ‘hunches’.

I don’t think about it, in fact, I will usually be elsewhere with my thoughts or preoccupied with something completely different, and suddenly the solution to some thing I’d been worrying about appears (provided I have enough/correct info). That’s Ni.

I easily see parallels and similarities between things that may not appear similar at all. That sounds Ne but you need to pay attention to what your mind does with all the impressions you take in. If they converge, that’s Ni. If they diverge, that’s Ne. See, when I draw parallels, separate entities become essentially the same thing. They carry the same meaning, become a symbol for the same thing. Ne would likely assign two (or several) different meanings to a single object instead.

Another thing is that it’s stated pretty much everywhere that Ni is always right. That’s false. Ni THINKS it’s right. It doesn’t have to be. That’s an important distinction to make. Ni’s accuracy largely depends how much accurate information is available. The more there is, the more likely it will be that Ni actually will be right. The less information is considered, the more likely it is that Ni will completely miss the mark.

So, coupled with how insecure I was, how was that stereotype anything I could much identify with at all? I’m very well aware I could be wrong, even believe I will be, because that’s what the majority of my life taught me to believe. It’s really hard to trust yourself if you’ve got no self belief. If you don’t know how to.

So, some advice for insecure Ni-doms, or really anyone - work on trusting yourself, on self belief. Take a step back and stop questioning/analyzing. It’ll become clearer in time and your confidence will grow.

On Fe:

I display a number of behavioral characteristics that are both Fi and Fe. That made it difficult to identify with either over the other. What decided it for me though, was how I process emotion. Of course, Feeling functions aren’t primarily about emotion but that’s an important part not to be overlooked. I use Extroverted Feeling simply because I don’t process emotion internally. I can’t. I need to, ideally, talk them out to truly understand what I’m feeling, the exact nuances of it, why I’m feeling it etc. I share them naturally, openly, one of the few things about me that actually are external. I’m vaguely aware of my feelings, when I have them, but trying to figure it out in my head is headache inducing. I simply don’t work that way. Writing my feelings out works as well, but there seems to be something in the act of sharing or hearing it verbalized that makes it a better solution than just writing.

Fi, introverted Feeling, cannot do this so easily. It feels everything much more internally, and sharing emotion is extremely uncomfortable, impossible even. This is a very clear distinction I can see between real life Fi vs Fe users, more easily in high Feeling types. Fe will tell you exactly what they’re feeling, raw and in the moment. Fi will do that indirectly by hurling insults or accusing you of things. Emotion is obvious in both but one is direct and to the point, while the other is less so.

If I talk about my feelings, they see it as whining about my problems. They don’t see that this is how I process and identify my feelings and problems in the first place. To them, it’s an unnecessary and tedious thing to do.

Now, Fe values are about making sure other people are comfortable first while Fi is about making themselves comfortable first. The reason I use Fe is because of how natural and easy it is for me to look out for how people feel/may feel. That’s not because I value being kind and considerate. It’s instinctive. It just happens.

An example of this is how I react to criticism. I don’t wonder if it’s true or how I feel about it, but panic about how to best adjust my behavior to remedy whatever the criticism was about. I adjust myself to make the other person more comfortable. For example, my family once remarked on how odd it was that I continuously, naturally explained my reasoning behind doing certain things (thanks to one of Charity’s posts I realized that was Fe - sharing ‘emotions’ openly). I’ve grown up in a pure Fi family. No Fe whatsoever. So, doing that was perceived as me being defensive which never even occurred to me. Taking this as an unconscious command of 'don’t do it, it’s making me uncomfortable’, I did away with that. I still want to do it and often catch myself in the middle of it - but wanting to maintain outer harmony is so unconscious, it’s like breathing air. You don’t pay attention or aren’t even aware but it’s still happening.

This kind of stuff has been influencing me so much, I blended in with my Fi family. I now superficially appear like a Fi user despite not being one. Often, I’m told I look like an IXFP. My empathy is so high and unconscious, I take on the attitudes and emotions of others and don’t even realize it until slapped in the face with it. I’m just learning that I’ve adopted a lot that way. The differences only become apparent if you know me (and MBTI) well enough. I’m simply unable to do anything without considering what consequences this may have on someone else.

Now, I’m not the stereotypical host. I’m not particularly warm or fuzzy unless you know me well. That’s because my brand of Fe doesn’t care primarily whether you’re physically comfortable, something that probably has to do with with low Se, but if you’re okay emotionally. That you feel safe and comfortable, unjudged and not rushed. That you feel understood. I want to make sure you’re feeling good. I instinctively wait for others to 'give permission’ before proceeding, all because of this unconscious need to be considerate, even if I really want to do it. Like turning on the AC when it’s hot. My sister and mother just go for it while I always either ask if it’s okay with them and wait until they say yes, or silently consider whether one of them has a cold or whatnot, if the AC will make them feel worse. If they object, I don’t do it.

Additionally, my 'values’ change and expand constantly. Sure, I’ve got a few that are pretty set, but generally, if you can make me understand, it becomes adopted into my world view and values. Live and let live, for example, is a pretty Fi value. Fe is about collective values which is why 'live and let live’ can be bypassed in favor of 'the greater good’. The individual can be ignored as long as the majority are taken care of. I remember my sister telling me how intolerant I was being by not going by 'live and let live’ - now, it’s a natural part of how I think. I can’t even pinpoint when it became part of me, but it did.

On Ti:

Aah, Ti. How I love and loathe thee. Truth be told, I’ve probably been stuck in a Ni-Ti loop for a really, really long time. I still am in one. To keep it short and simple -

Ti needs to understand something before it can apply it/is taken in. It takes apart a thing into its single elements, examines each one from all angles until fully understood, and by the end can put the whole thing back together any way it wishes. It continually adjusts itself with each piece of incoming information, making sure its always consistent with its inner logic. Ti asks 'does this make sense to me?’

I have never been able to apply any concept until I fully understood it, going by exactly that process.

On Se:

The ultimate blind spot. I get lost embarrassingly easy to the point of getting anxiety attacks. My body coordination is complete crap. I continuously run into walls or door frames (it gets worse the more I try concentrating on how to avoid it). I cannot react right away but need time to process. Try to force me and I become catatonic, unresponsive. I slow down and come to a standstill, a mental stutter and state of paralysis.

I’m wary of physical intimacy to the extreme. I’m quite disconnected from my body or the physical world. The line between my thoughts, imagination and reality is blurred and very easily questioned. But solitary exercise or walks are amazing. They make me quiet my mind until I’m left with nothing but pure physical sensations and the inner peace and calm it fills me with.

— O —

I hope this has been at least a little bit helpful.

I want to thank Charity for her amazing explanations, her infinite patience with putting up with so many of my (sometimes really stupid) questions, and finally for letting me post this.

Charity note: there are no stupid questions. :)

anonymous asked:

How would the chocobros be with a really short S/O? Like 5ft or shorter?

I too am vertically challenged, so I assume they’d treated them very similar to how i’m treated by my tall friends.

~~~~~

Noctis

“Need some help with that?” Noctis would asked playfully, only to get a sassy little pout in return.

“I’m already up here!” You would replied, already standing on the countertops to get whatever you needed, knowing that the Prince put it up there so he could make fun of you. Despite you only being 5 foot, your Prince Charming stood at a beautiful 5 foot 9.

Making him perfect model height, and the Prince of high reach places. Snagging your chips, you turned back towards your boyfriend already knowing where he was standing, directly underneath you, as you dropped them on his face before starting your journey of climbing down the countertops.

“Aww, I love my tiny sweetie.” Noctis would mockingly coo, as he held your chips above his head, out of your reach, resulting in you bouncing and clinging to him to get them back.

“Noctis give them!”

“Gotta pay the Noct tax.”

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