tousled curls

Straight Foward Goals

Prompt from xashfirex: Azula has naturally curly-ish hair (like it was in the beach episode) and tries to straighten it. Ursa doesn’t approve of this life decision and takes away her straightener. 

Azula frowned and pulled at a strand of her hair, in springy motions it bounced back into place. The princess tousled her slight curls, running her fingers through them in a helpless attempt to detangle them. Truth be told, Azula hated them. They were always in her face and frizzy, and unruly.

The firebender ignited a small flame in her palm and held a pair of tongs over her them. She waited until they were decently hot before taking them to her hair. With careful hands she ran the hot tongs over her waves until they lie flat against her neck.

She’d been doing this for as long as she could remember. The first time she’d tried this trick, she had managed to burn a good chunk off. Evidently this is also when she learned to tie her hair into its topknot—she had to hide her mistake somehow.

Azula smiled and brushed her hand over her hair, which now fell silky and smooth over her shoulder. Or at least the right side. The left side of her hair was still as wavy as ever. That would soon be fixed. She reheated the tongs and clamped them over the next strand.


This whole time Ursa had been so sure that her daughter had simply outgrown her wavy hair. She had been so disappointed, she had always loved her daughter’s wavy hair. They were adorable and suited her well.

“How could you do that!?” Ursa shouted, taking the tongs from her daughter’s hands. “You have such naturally beautiful hair. How could you just…just destroy it?”

“Destroy it?” Azula grumbled. “I’m fixing it.” She combed her fingers through her hair. “See, it looks much better this way.” She held her hand out, “so give them back.”

Ursa tucked the tongs away. “Not a chance. You will learn to love your natural hair.”

“Mother, nobody wants wavy hair. I don’t know anyone in the Fire Nation that has it.”

“So if no one else has it, it’s bad?” Ursa asked.

“That’s right.” Azula drummed her fingers against the wall. “My tongs.” She beckoned with her free hand.

“I don’t know anyone else with blue fire…” Ursa lifted an eyebrow.

“Th-that is totally different.” Azula sputtered.

“How so?”

“Because blue fire makes you look badass.” Azula muttered to herself.

“What was that?” Ursa cupped a hand over her ear and leaned closer.

“I like my blue fire.”

“And I like your hair wavy.” Ursa stated as if that concluded the conversation. “And so should you.” The woman clutched the tongs tighter and sauntered out of Azula’s bedroom.

Azula sighed and flopped down onto her bed, her hair fanning out behind her.

Her hair.

Her lovely hair.

Now she would have to deal with those annoying waves for who know how long.

She had to find a way to get those tongs back, or else she’d spend the rest of her days with awful hair. Where had those waves come from anyways? Her father didn’t have wavy hair, her mother certainly didn’t.  So why did she?


Ursa set the tongs on her dresser, wondering why her daughter would possibly want to ruin such pretty hair. So long ago she had scorched her own waves away. She had always assumed that eventually they would go right again, but looking into the mirror she was reminded once again that she was wrong. Her hair was a straight as she regretted making it in her youth. She couldn’t possibly let Azula do that. She looked towards the door and then down at the tongs. But perhaps her daughter knew what she wanted. She should let the girl make her own decisions.

She looked at the tongs once more.

She would give them back, so long as Azula agreed to give her hair a break every once in a while. As small a problem as it was, Ursa wouldn’t let her daughter ruin something so naturally flattering. Wouldn’t let her change something that she didn’t need to.

Do we turn you on? (Muke threesome)

Summary: Your best friends pick up on the fact that the both of them make you insanely horny (i can’t do summaries okay i suck)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: This is smut! Luke assumes ‘dom’ position and they all have a threesome ;) 

There’s a little bit of NSFW above the ‘keep reading’ line!

A/N: I’m such a slut for muke I’m surprised this is my first threesome with them? Let’s just say I let my imagination run pretty wild haha :) enjooooy!

Originally posted by ariana527

Michael’s warm fingertips trail across your upper arm, the heat causing goosebumps to pebble across your sensitive skin. As you’re sitting so close to the boy, you can smell the deep musky scent of his aftershave and feel a tug of desire to lean across and smash your lips against his.

You would if you weren’t in a room with your other best friend.

Luke’s leaning against a white wall, his blond hair tousled into loose curls. You take a moment to admire his wide stance before your attention drifts to his fingers curled around his phone. So many night you’ve spent - in the crowd at one of their shows - watching his fingers work magic on his guitar.

You’ve always wondered what they’d feel like inside you.

You imagine they’d be nimble: Luke always brags about his ability to twirl his fingers at perfect angles. But at the same time, there’s no doubt in your mind that he’d move quickly, immediately establishing his dominance before proceeding to bend you over a table.

“Did you just moan?”

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dtwizzie  asked:

*Credence finds and looks into The Mirror of Erised*

Credence doesn’t know why the mirror is showing him this. 

This isn’t him as he is now. This is him standing straight, standing tall, standing on his own in the grass of some far away place he’s never seen before.  This is him holding a book in one hand and a wand in the other, a nice green shirt, suspenders, a dark grey robe open at the front. This is him getting ready for a day of magic lessons, his cheeks sun-flushed, his hair tousled and allowed to curl in the way mother never liked.

This is him happy.

There’s a man waiting for him in the background, his hands in his pockets, temples shot through with grey.

This is everything Credence wants, and he doesn’t know how to reach it.

title: for once in her life perrie writes something actually fic formatted and not shitty bullet points and SURPRISE its almost 2k words of shameless kandreil smut :):):)

enjoy, u sinning fucks

The soft white sheets of Neil’s dorm bed rumpled under his back, pressing insistently into sweat-slick skin. He lay in the center of his mattress, gazing half-lidded at the ceiling through a veil of auburn lashes. Behind him, the glow of a buzzing fluorescent street lamp slashed through blinds to pool gold on blankets and tousled auburn curls.

For the first time in months, eleven p.m tasted like solitude.

“I’m going out,” Andrew had said shortly, just before leaving with Kevin for god-knows-where. “Don’t do anything stupid.” The you aren’t invited was implied. For once, that was all right with Neil. Living in constant proximity to two other boys meant a lack of privacy that had only grown more frustrating over time— even if one of them happened to be his boyfriend. Not-boyfriend. Whatever.

His dilemma was made far worse by the simmering effects of his desperate attraction to them both.

No. Not both. One of them, Neil told himself firmly. Andrew. Not Kevin.

As if to prove it, he closed his eyes and pictured the sharp slant of Andrew’s cheekbones. A nearly-invisible smattering of freckles, the flutter of pale lashes over slightly hollowed under-eyes. Neil arched his back into the mattress, one scarred hand reaching tentatively under the band of his sweatpants. His heart sped on.

The winter air whispered through the cracked bedroom window, freezing, freezing, freezing.

Neil was burning.

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The Last Hours snippet

“Who’s the boy tripping over his own feet?” Cordelia asked as the boy in question, a slender, ink-stained young man with spectacles and tousled brown curls, nearly careened into Lucie and Matthew.

“That’s Christopher Lightwood. My cousin. Alas, Christopher is far more at home with beakers and test tubes than he is with female company. Let’s just hope he doesn’t pitch poor Rosamund Townsend into the refreshment table.”

“Is he in love with her?”

“Lord, no, barely knows her,” said James. “Charles and Daphne are engaged, and  Barbara Lightwood has an understanding with George Hayward. Beyond that, I’m not sure I can think of any romances brewing in our set. Though having you and Alastair here might bring us some excitement, Daisy.”

Her heart leaped. “I didn’t realize you remembered that old nickname.”

“What, Daisy?” He was holding her close as they danced: she could feel the heat of him all up and down her front, making her prickle all over. “Of course I remember it. I gave it to you. I hope you don’t intend me to stop using it.”

“Of course not. I like it.” She forced herself not to move her gaze from his. Goodness, his eyes were startling up close. They were the color of golden syrup, almost shocking against the black of his pupils. She had heard the whispers, knew people found his eyes odd and alien, a sign of his difference. She thought they were lovely: the color of fire and gold, the way she imagined the heart of the sun. “Though I don’t think it suits me. Daisy sounds like a pretty little girl in hair ribbons.”

“Well,” he said. “You are at least –”

He broke off. She heard the click as he swallowed: he was looking past her, at someone who had just come into the room. Cordelia followed his glance, and saw a tall woman, thin as a scarecrow and dressed in the black of mourning, with gray-streaked auburn hair done in the style of decades ago piled on her head. Tessa was hurrying toward her, a concerned look on her face. Will was following, and goodness, what did they both look so worried about?

As Tessa reached her, the woman stepped aside, revealing the girl who had been standing behind her. A girl, dressed all in ivory, with a soft waterfall of white-gold curls gathered back from her face. The girl moved forward gracefully to greet Tessa and Will, and as she did so, James dropped Cordelia’s hands.

They were no longer dancing. Cordelia stood, frozen in confusion, as James turned away from her without a word and strode across the room toward the girl.

requested: pregnant with robb’s and seeks refuge at the wall

requested by a wonderful anon: Imagine where reader is heavely pregnant with robb starks child. But before she gives he gets killed at the red wedsing and reader seeks refuge at the wall where jon is to help?

i just cannot make a good title i hate myself lmao

sorry for the wait but i hope you’ll like this ♡♡♡



Lord Walder Frey received you in his throne room and welcomes you to his Great Hall. Musicians played and sang their instruments and cooks brought in their delicious meals with the some maids to serve. You sat beside Robb Stark, giggling when he rubs your big belly. You look at the newly weds up on the platform, busy with each other and you remembered the day you were married to Robb. You leaned back and looked at him. You caressed his stubbly face, his auburn curls tousled sleekly.

He kissed your hand and leaned back too. “What is it, my Queen?”

“I remembered when we married. It was quiet and it was just the two of us,” you whispered. “I loved every minute of it.”

He leaned in and kissed you dear on your plump lips. “We can recreate it everyday, my love.”

You pecked him at his brow and you stood up. “I’ll be outside to walk around,” you started. He moved his lips to answer back but you quickly interrupted him. “I’ll have ten men with me. Always.”

Robb stood up with you and kissed you softly again. “Be careful,” he said. “And come back.”

You laughed held his hand. “I always do. I love you.”

“And, I love you.”

Lord Frey eyed you carefully as you stood, and you raised your glass to him , which he reciprocated. You nodded at Lady Catelyn, which she smiled back at you and you made your way to door. Guards were the door, and one of them spoke. “Your Grace, I believe you can’t leave.”

A knight pushed his way towards the mere guard. “The Queen wishes to walk outside,” he said. The knight guided you out and waited for the other nine to follow.

“It’s quite chilly, Your Grace,” he spoke to remind you to put your hood on.

“You’re very nice, Ser.”

You started to walk and admire the castle. It’s astonishing to see the Twins at night, with all the little lights the people have lit. The people outside are laughing and also having their supper and that made you smile. You walked further, with two guards beside you. Suddenly, screams bursted and people were running. You searched for where it was coming from, and you saw the Great Hall full of people being stabbed and armored Frey men entering. You saw the familiar auburn hair in the middle staggered and turned. You started to ran when you saw an arrow pierced through his shoulder. He turned and he caught glimpse of you despite of the dark evening. Several men came charging your men and they fought them off. 

“We have to go back!” you screamed, clutching to the knight’s arm. “Please!”

Seven of your men ushered you to a stable and stole horses. They brought the Frey’s banners with them, and rode of into the dark. They led you to a horse and mounted you into one. You all rode off with you turning to see what’s happening. The next thing you saw was that the Great Hall was opened and people cheered. You saw the horrendous image of Grey Wind’s head mounted on Robb’s body and people were cheering and laughing.

You cried and felt your heart break. That was the last thing that you saw of Robb. Your heart ached but it turned cold. Your house trotted forward to be beside your guard. The evening fell darker and the moon gave you the light you need to see. You passed through brothels and inns and went to the woods to avoid the Kingsroad. Your men maid camp in the woods as best as they could and rested. They started a small fire and eventually blew it out. “Where are we going?”

Your trusted knight turned and said. “I believe our King spoke of a brother on the Wall, you’ll be safe there, your Grace.”


You traveled for weeks, your belly growing larger and your appetite growing large too. You touched your big pregnant belly and whispered to it, “Just a little while longer, my love.” You were handed a piece of a rabbit’s leg and you ate it quietly with the company of your men. They were four already. You helped them when they were wounded, but only four survived. A guard gave you a bow and some sharpened arrows, and you remembered Robb. You accepted it wholly, as a way to protect them also.

“My Queen, should we stop for camp?

You turned to them, your face hard. “Has it gone dark yet? I still see the sun. As long as there’s light we travel.” You called out. “And don’t call me that.”

You gasped at the sight of the big wall made up of solid ice. It stretches farther and the height was intimidating. You saw movements, black little things on top of the wall, and your galloped faster to enter the big wooden door that opened for you and your remaining men.

People stood still, when your armored guards entered and helped you off your horse. You looked around and observed them. People whispered about you and your belly. A blind man with links around his neck erupted from the stairs and looked at where the commotion is.

“Maester,” you spoke loudly. You walked carefully towards and stood until the Maester felt your hands on top of his hands. “Maester.”

“Sweet child,” he breathe out. “I heard you’re carrying a child.”

Words travel quickly, you gave a little laugh and a smile. “That quick?”

He laughed too and guided you inside for warmth and food to offer. Your men followed suit and ate as many as they liked. You ate as much too, since hunger consumed you. Men looked at you incredulous for how you acted, but you didn’t care. “A name, child?”

Y/N,” you started. “Wife of Robb Stark.”

“Robb,” a loud voice erupted and you saw a curly haired man came forward. You looked at him, he looked the same age as Robb and saw some features of him as same as Robb. “Is my brother alright?”

You stood up and he saw your belly. He smiled instantly. You came towards him and smiled. You held the stare longer as his eyes showed happiness. You broke down, “Your brother…”

He held you steady, “Is he alright?”

“He’s dead.” you cried. “We were at the Twins. Lord Frey and his treacherous men murdered the northern men and Lady Catelyn was there. I’m sorry.”

You looked at Jon, “I’m sorry,  Jon. I should’ve protected him. I should have been with him. I’m so sorry.”

“Your Grace,” the Maester stated, “My sincerest apologies. You are welcomed here.”

“My deepest thanks. Please call me Y/N.”

You saw Jon sobbed and he quickly wiped his tears away. He looked at you and said, “You have a place here. For you and your babe.”

“Thank you, Jon.” you spoke softly. “I’m sorry.”

“We both lost Robb, he was my brother and your husband,” he said. “We have to be strong. Especially you.”

You both hugged it out and you rubbed your belly. A part of Robb will live on, and you have to strong, you thought. You looked at Jon and gave him a smile. “Strong. We have to be strong.”


thanks for reading and i hope y’all appreciate it hehe ♡♡♡

requests are open now ♡

For Your Consideration:

What if Snap Wexley had a cute Hubby That Maybe Looks Like Mohinder Suresh of Heroes (HTMLLMSOH, for short)? 

Like OKAY, here is my pitch. HTMLLMSOH (presumably he would have a different name) is like, an accomplished do-gooder space doctor. Out there. Saving orphans & inoculating space refugees & shit. GOOD STUFF. 

MEANWHILE. His space hubby Temmin “Snap” Wexley is off flying reconnaissance missions for the Resistance. MAYBE they met when Snap crashed his ship on some desolate planet where HTMLLMSOH was doing his do-gooder BS in the space equivalent of Doctors Without Borders. Anyway, HTMLLMSOH patched Snap up and they had a WHIRLWIND ROMANCE. Like I’m talking lots of BEARD BURN & TOUSLED CURLS, if you know what I mean, and I think you do, etc, etc., good times, great oldies. lots of very careful space sex is what i’m saying obvs

So they get married & do the long distance thing & Snap DESPAIRS as HTMLLMSOH keeps going off & putting himself in danger, helping sick people in far flung planets & non-profit hospital ships all over the galaxy; HTMLLMSOH is like, Temmin (no one but HTMLLMSOH can call him Temmin like are you kidding), you fly an X-wing, really fast, in search of enemy forces, stop being a condescending arse. They bicker a lot. HTMLLMSOH wears a shoulder bag & visits whatever Resistance Base Snap’s staying at that month. It works as well as it can which, at this point, is p well. #RelationshipGoals

Also like, in terms of a plot to explore, if you wanna throw some Finn/Poe in there, which I do: Snap and Poe are SUPER CLOSE. They have an X-WING SALUTE. Finn notices this. HOW CAN HE COMPETE? He doesn’t know the handshake. He is full of woe. He is UNAWARE of the fact that Snap Wexley is a happily married man, and he is so happily married, of course, because his husband is the one man in the ENTIRE GALAXY, perhaps, who is more beautiful than Poe Dameron:

So in conclusion, I am just saying, give this man a husband already:

also maybe a cute lil’ Force sensitive adopted daughter that they have to rescue & protect from things just saying no pressure

...And Make Up

a/n: Requested. I love getting your feed back and requests!

The first things you felt upon waking up was a heavy arm slung across you and the warmth of a body at your back. You looked over your shoulder and instantly felt dread pool into your stomach at the sight of Harry’s tousled curls obscuring his still sleeping face.

You managed to escape the confines of his hold and the bed without waking him

Half an hour later found you in the kitchen, showered, fed and frustrated.

“Hey,” his deep voice brought you out of your musings.

You spun around when you felt him try to hold you. You backed away from him, stopping only when you felt the counter at your back.

“You need to leave,” just like last night your walls were back up.

“Oh c’mon, angel. You’re still mad at me?” his cocked brow and blasé smirk infuriated you.

“Yes. Now get out,” you demanded.

He made no move to do so. In fact he began walking towards you. You couldn’t help but notice then that he had changed into a pair of sweat pants and had tossed his hair into a haphazard bun. His torso was as bare as you’d last left it.

You couldn’t move quickly enough and he now had you caged between him and the counter. His arms rooted themselves on the granite surface on either side of you.

“One minute you’re mad at me and then the next you’re not,” his voice was low as he stared at you, there was a playful tint to his tone and that vexed you even more.

“I was always mad at you Harry. Just because we fucked doesn’t mean everything is okay!”

He pushed himself off of the counter at that but remained inches from you still, “Then tell me how to make it okay because I don’t know how many more times you want me to admit that I was wrong and say I’m sorry before you forgive me!”

You went to deliver a sharp comeback in response, but then thought better of it. You let go of a sigh, closing your eyes as you carefully chose your words, “I know you’re sorry Harry. I get it, you’re sorry, but that doesn’t fix things. The constant arguing, the fights and the miscommunication. Okay, I forgive you and then what? Two weeks from now we’re yelling and throwing things in anger again?” you chanced a look at him, “It doesn’t make sense. I just…I don’t think this makes sense anymore.”

“Then we won’t argue. We’ll talk things out and say what’s on our minds before it turns into a fight. We’ll fix it-”


“You…being with you makes sense to me. It’s the only thing that makes perfect sense to me and I’m not letting you throw that away,” his voice was firm as his gaze held yours.

“You and Caroline made sense. You and Taylor and Kendall and Cara and Nadine all made sense Harry. You were right, they understand your world better than I ever can,” you pause, noticing him flinch, “it was a shitty thing for you to say, but you’re right.”

His hands lifted to cup your cheeks, tilting your head to peer up at him and you didn’t have the strength the remove them.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I never should have said that,” you went to speak but he continued, not giving you a chance, “but even if they do understand my life they don’t understand me. Not like you do, sweetheart. I love you. You make me happy and you get me. Our relationship can work, we can fix it. Please don’t walk away from that.”

The last thing you wanted to do was walk away from him. You loved him without a doubt and he did make you happy, but was that enough? Would that be all you needed to fix your relationship?

As though seeing the doubts clouding your mind he slanted his lips over yours briefly before saying, “Please. I’m sorry.”

In the silence that ensued he kept murmuring apologies while punctuating each one with a tender kiss.

Didn’t take long for your resolve to weaken, unsurprisingly, it never lasted long around him anyway.

“Okay,” was all you needed to say before he kissed you once more, this one lingering and with an added smile.

All Human - in which Nik and Care are a photographer and his favourite model

“Kiss me,” Caroline whispered, smiling as she leaned back, her lower lip between her teeth.

“Gladly,” Nik replied, his hand on her waist as he rolled them around until he hovered above her, the sunlight flooding the white hotel room as he leaned in.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled as he looked at her from close up, his tousled curls partially covering his eyes as Caroline giggled, the bed sheets entangled with their bare bodies.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in until their lips met.

“I never want this to end,” she mumbled against his lips, her eyes closed as the sun warmed their skin through the glass wall to the left of the bed.

“I won’t let it,” Nik replied, pecking the tip of her nose.

Breathe : Poe Dameron

      You reached up, wiping the sweat from your brow. The sun was beating down hot on the Resistance base. This didn’t help you at all with having to fix some damaged X-Wings on the rough pavement. You got up, moving to a torn up black and orange ship, and started to assess what had to be done.

    It needed a new paint job, that was for sure. You reached up stroking the dented and damaged metal as if it were a dog’s soft ear.

“Beautiful isn’t it? I mean, despite all of the chips in the paint.”

    You turned on your heels to see the owner of the X-Wing, Poe Dameron. His black curls were tousled, some falling onto his forehead. He had his orange, Resistance issued piloting suit on, the arms of it tied around his waist. He looked at you, awaiting your answer, with warm brown eyes.

“Yes, you have one of the best X-Wing models. Treat her right.” You said, hating how the words sounded coming from your mouth.

    Poe looked at you with a slightly crooked smile, his white teeth visible between his lips. He walked forward, towards you and the ship, and you felt your own heart quicken. He was intimidatingly attractive, and everyone wanted him no matter the gender or race. And You were actually talking to him, and he was less than 6 feet away from you. This whole situation seemed wrong, unlikely at the least, but here it was. Unfolding in front of you.

“This heap of metal has nothing against you, Y/N. You’re more eye-catching.” Poe said, turning to face you. You felt a blush on you cheeks and your tugged at your black long sleeves.

“I’m more alive anyway…”

   You said quietly, and you heard Poe chuckle. You looked up at him, somewhat in shock. You had made him laugh. You wanted to do it again. Make him laugh forever. It was like a song, sung from a heavy heart. Meaningful.

  You found yourself staring at him, and when he noticed, you looked away hastily. You went back to work on his ship, crawling beneath it. It was silent, the type of quiet you liked the most. You looked back, out from underneath the X-Wing, and saw Poe’s boots. You took your bottom lip In Between your teeth in confusion.

   Why was he still here, is he that protective of his ship? You didn’t blame him. You yourself would worry about your ship when it was placed in the hands of someone you didn’t know. Realizing this, a wave a worry, fear of messing up, clouded your thoughts.

  You made your way from underneath the ship’s metal. You reached your arms around part of the ship, hauling yourself out from under it. Once you were on your feet, you brushed off the dirt that had gathered on your black shirt and tan pants. When you were done, you looked up to see Poe, still standing where he was before, watching you with soft features.

  “What?” You asked, looking him feeling a little panicked. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him.

     “Nothing…I just never pegged you as a tattoo kind of girl.” He asked, his voice faltering slightly. You felt a wave of warmth wash over you at his words. He must’ve seen it when you were getting up. Fear raced through you, and you tried to calm down.

   “….y-yeah…” You said, wanting to slap yourself for basically confirming what he saw.

      Staring you in the eyes. His eyes still held that warmth they did before but something else lingered in his gaze.

  He stepped towards you, his hand gripped yours. You almost gasped at his touch; it was foreign, but it held a gentle familiarity. His other hand pulled your long sleeve up, revealing your wrist. “Breathe?” He asked, his voice soft and caring.

     You looked down, seeing your small tattoo that read ‘breathe’ in a bold font. His fingers traced the black lettering inked on your skin.

  “It’s just a reminder.” You said, feeling your own smile forming on your lips. He smiled back at you, his brown eyes happy. he let out a small laugh, causing you smile wider, “What’s the meaning of it?” he released your hand, and took on a more serious look and tone, “Why did you get it?”

    You looked at your wrist, the word printed there in your skin. You smiled at it, then looked back at him. His eyes were caring as he waited for your answer.

   “I used to, still do, have anxiety….” You took a shaky breath before continuing, “It made me worry so much….it made me feel lonely. I didn’t want to feel horrible anymore, I wanted to be free in a way, from it. So I got this, to remind me that as long as I’m alive, I can go somewhere. Do something without having to worry about everything else.”

   You let out a small sigh, and looked back up to Poe. His eyes were teary, and full of compassion and sorrow.

   “I didn’t know….” He said, rubbing his eyes, wishing away the visible trace sadness. “It’s okay Poe! You wouldn’t have known.” You said, placing your hands carefully on his shoulders.

   He looked back at you, and before you knew what was happening, you felt his arms wrap around you. You fell into his embrace, letting your arms wrap around his torso, you hand gripping the material of his black undershirt. You felt every worry, every trace of depression being lifted off of your shoulders. You never wanted to leave. You felt secure and safe for the first time in a while.

   Gently, Poe pulled back just enough to look at you. You met his gaze and felt like crying. His compassion and caring was almost inhuman. You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but it was quickly wiped away by the pad of Poe’s thumb. He leaned his face towards your ear and said, “It’s okay.”

    You pulled away from him, courage racing through your veins. He was close, your breaths mingling in the air around you. “It finally is.” You whispered, remembering all of the times you had seen Poe around the base and wondering what he was like. Thinking about him, and now realizing that you should’ve just talked to him.

  He smiled down at you, his eyes searching yours. So much did you want to kiss him, but you didn’t want to risk it. You just leaned into him again, and he held you tightly. You felt his lungs expanding, filling with air. You heard his heart beating soundly against your ear, and it was peaceful.

    “Y/N, would you like to go out sometime?” He asked, his voice strong but caring. “We can do whatever you please, but I won’t be able to stop thinking about you if you say no so…you’ll be dooming me to lifelong agony….” You laughed against his chest, his words filling you with a joy long since forgotten. You looked up at him, pressing your lips in a thin line before answering him.

     “Yes. I would like that. Very much.” He smiled at you, and released you from his hold. The corners of your lips, and his, fell in a slight frown but Poe explained his movements. “Alright, I’ll get planning, and you should fix my X-Wing before General Organna finds you slacking off.” A cheesy grin made its way to his face, and you felt your own smile forming.

   He walked away with a wave, leaving you to wonder further about him. Wonder about how your date would go. Just the thought brought heat to your face, and for butterflies to tickle the inside of your stomach. You took in a breath, and smiled looking down at your wrist and the word that had brought you and Poe closer together than you could’ve ever imagined.

anonymous asked:

Reader can't sleep tonight, and Poe is already snoring beside her. She gets up and walks to the couch in the other room, picks up Poe's guitar and starts plucking out a tune. Poe walks in a few months later, bare chested and curls tousled all over his head. He yawns and leans against the wall, smiling sleepily at Reader. Then he scoops her up into his lap and hums along in her ear to the familiar song she's playing. He smells so good, and Readers eyes droop but Poe keeps singing til she sleeps.

Wow…can I have this??

You and Me II Milody

Tugging on her lower lip, Mandy glanced over her outfit once more before stepping out the house. Wearing tight black jeans and a loose fitting off the shoulder white top, the singer turned actress tilted her head making sure she looked decent. Her hair was tousled, filled with loose curls and her make-up was simple and fresh. What was even happening here? She had seen Milo almost 24/7 for the past few months, yet today she found herself with growing butterflies. Sure, she had them since the first day she met him - but as she got to know the older male, she just kept falling for him. Taking one last deep breath, Mandy decided she needed to head out before she overanalyzed everything. Grabbing her car keys, the younger brunette headed out and began her commute to Milo’s place. In no time, she pulled up in his driveway and parked her car. Grabbing her purse, Mandy got out of her car and walked up to his patio and gently knocked on the door. Licking her full lips, she lowered her gaze to the floor as she shifted her weight between her legs while she waited for Milo to open the door. @miloventimigliawashere
the only chance i wish i had to take - aroace_enjolras - Star Wars - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Poe’s eyes lit up. “Jessika has a performance tonight, downtown! You guys should come, c’mon, let me make it up to you for accidentally attacking you.”
“You already made it up to us with the coffee,” Rey said, but before she could continue to give a polite excuse as to why they couldn’t go, Finn interrupted.
“But we could totally go just to hang out,” he said quickly, shooting Rey what she called his ‘patented puppy eyes.’
“That’d be even better.” Poe beamed at him, and Rey glared. She very much preferred to stay home and watch weird old movies together rather than go out, and usually Finn was inclined to agree. But. But there was a hot guy with stylishly tousled curls and warm eyes with the kind of easy confidence Finn could only dream of inviting them out to see his cool friend’s band. This was a night for exception-making. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

Hey guys! I wrote a college AU Finn/Poe and Jessika/Rey (more background) thing the other day. Trans Poe, hipster Rey, cool rock n roll girl Jessika, and most importantly, beautiful bi ray of sunshine Finn.

photography major!ashton aka im really obsessed with this picture

It was always the same, every day since you met him, but sometimes, consistency is good.  

The familiar three knocks against your dorm door would echo throughout the tiny room every morning just about an hour before your first class at 9am.  The person who stood on the other side was always the same and even after dating for two years and giving him a key to your room at the beginning of the semester, there was still a knock.  Soft tousled curls matched with a sleepy smile met you on the other side of the wooden door, just like every other morning, the black framing of his camera extended in front of his eyes as he leaned against the off-white wall.  Although things become a routine, that doesn’t necessarily mean you get used to them, even if they are repeated on such a frequent basis.  The sudden and sharp click of a photo being captured and the low, sleep-filled voice emitting a soft “morning, darling” was enough to raise a rose color to your cheeks, just like yesterday and the day prior, even though it was almost expected at this point.  The shutter of the camera snapping a memory shouldn’t have caught you off guard in the least bit, but you weren’t able to suppress your eyebrows from furrowing for a split second of time before a stupid lopsided grin broke through the short lived façade of confusion.  “Working on your next project?” your body turned to close the door behind you as you went to wrap your jacket closer to your frame, the brisk chill of any March morning prominent the second you walked into the hallway.

The sight of the camera hung around Ashton’s neck was anything but foreign and something you grew accustomed to after just about the second week of knowing his name.  Boxes of polaroids and canvases stained with scattered paint filled the dorm room he’s called home for some time now, but that’s something you would expect of a photography major with a minor and passion in studio arts. With an ambition in art came a lifestyle of what felt like constant change and maybe that’s why Ashton prided himself on a routine, because if life around him continued to move at the speed of light, what you two had needed to be surrounded by a sense of comfort and home.

“Mmmh, you just look pretty is all,” his eyes fluttered closed for a mere second as he tried to rid himself of the last lingering bit of sleep still present, a subtle grin tugging away at the corners of his lips and his hand almost blindly feeling for your waist.

Walking to the coffee shop on the corner of 1st and Meadows felt like second natural and with every step you took, the distinctive scent of freshly ground coffee beans and the little cranberry scones the store was famous for became more prominent.  As each morning came and passed, everything among your surroundings seemed to change; flowers would bloom on the cherry blossom trees one day and the next, there were snowflakes falling from the clouded over skies.  The seasons came and left in the blink on an eye, but somehow, Ashton didn’t. Regardless of the weather outside, his eyes still gleamed a hazel color with golden embers that veered on the line of breathtakingly impossible and his body remained warm, reflecting the heat of the fire burning away within the mixture of greens and golds.  

Your usual table towards the back corner of the patio seating was open like the previous mornings that came before this one, almost as though new faces, regulars, and waiters alike knew and reserved the two chairs, expecting your arrival and having your orders set to brew away in the coffee machine.  The light grey hues that danced along the clouds made everything about Ashton more noticeably beautiful.  The rays of sunlight struggling to peak through the hazy blanket engulfing them made the golden sparks scattered about his earthy green eyes look as though they were embers from a bonfire dancing along a summer night’s sky.  The rather dull yet still prevalent chill hanging along the fresh spring air brought a light dusting of various pinks onto his cheeks and the steam emitting from the top of the fragile cappuccino cup surfaced a new warmth into the atmosphere of the delicate shop.  Everything about the moment felt too right for it to come and go within a matter of passing seconds, just a memory left to fade among the countless others.  Your hand slipped carefully across the wooden paneling of the table top, fingers extending to grasp at the camera Ashton had set down when you arrived and before he could comprehend what was unfolding in front of him, the sharp click of the camera was heard.

“What was that for?” The crease of confusing along Ashton’s eyebrows began to release, a subtle smirk pulling at a corner of his mouth and he placed the brewed drink back on the table. Your eyelashes fluttered just the slightest as your head raised from admiring the photograph on the small camera screen. The camera found its spot once again on the newly stained wood, the warmth of your latte seeping through the ceramic confinements and bringing a tingling feeling to your fingertips.  You spoke over the red striped rim, a smile obviously laced in every word that tumbled out of your mouth.  “Mmmh, you just look pretty is all.”

Reasons Why I Need S4

Will, in glasses, dressed in an ill fitting suit, a bit scruffy, curls tousled, looking uncomfortable and clearly out of his element while sitting at the dinner table with Hannibal and someone else. Hannibal gets up to go to the kitchen and the person starts flirting with Will, clearly having been doing it all night, even going so far as to put their hand on his inner thigh.

Will looks down, shudders, takes a deep breath and says, softly. “I…I’m married.”

The person presses their hand high and will sighs, taking his glasses off. He locks eyes with the person, all shyness, vulnerability gone as speaks in a deadly voice. “It’s very rude to flirt with a married man.” then plunges a screwdriver into the person’s head.

Hannibal comes in, bearing two desserts and smiles at Will like the utterly besotted fool he is.

The bunker was silent tonight, the only sound to be heard was the quiet slapping of bare feet along the hard wood floor. That too disappeared when the wood floor was traded for soft carpet, the long legs carrying him into the study. The first thing he noticed was the lit lamp beside the couch. The second thing he noticed was you curled on your side on it.

One hand lay beside your face on a bed of your tousled curls, fingers curling upwards while the other dangled off the couch, a book lying on the floor directly below where it had fallen from your open fingers. His eyes followed the dip of your waist down to the swell of your hip and on to your legs crossed at the knees, your stockinged toes pointing downwards. A smile worked its way across his face. You looked like a dancer frozen in time.

Stooping to retrieve the fallen book, he smoothed the page that had crumpled upon landing and placed it on the table beside the lamp. After he rose to his full height again, he paused, unsure whether to risk waking you to move you to your bed. Then impulse struck. Taking out the blanket tucked under his arm, he held onto two corners and let it unfurl with a soft rumple, the opposite corners brushing the tops of his feet. He leaned forward and instead of simply placing it around your shoulders, he found himself carefully making his way to lie down behind you.

You hardly stirred as his weight made the couch dip, only moving back against him, your head fitting perfectly in the crook between his chin and his chest. He covered you both with the blanket and settled, his arm gently wrapping around your torso so you wouldn’t fall, his long legs slightly curling into yours.

With the scent of your hair filling his senses and the warmth of you in his arms, his eyelids began to droop. In minutes, he fell into the deepest sleep he’d had in a long time. No nightmares, only a dream of you.

(Requests are open. c:)

Reasons Why I Need S4

Will and Hannibal at a party. Hannibal is charming a small group, dressed to the nines. He pauses as Will comes up behind him, also dressed to the nines, curls perfectly tousled and Hannibal goes “And I would like you all to meet..” and Will cuts him off, smiling at Hannibal as he holds out his hand to the people. “His Husband.” 

Hannibal looks at him like Will just gave him the world and people comment on how perfect they are together.

Dangerous Woman

Rated M for absolute smut. Post-Underworld.

I haven’t written in quite a while (no muse), but when listening to Ariana Grande’s Dangerous Woman, this is what I always see. Enjoy.

Lipstick was not part of her usual routine, but there was nothing routine about tonight. Placing the cap on the tube, she pressed her lips and rubbed them together slowly. The crimson color was a stark contrast to her skin, glowing a golden hue in the warm candle light. Turning, Emma ran a hand through her long, flaxen locks. Her fingers caught and tousled the curls as she moved towards the kitchen, lighting another tapered candle, nestled in a silver candelabra. The house was filled with the intoxicating scent of an Italian feast, on which she had labored for an hour.

He may have been the one with the centuries-old fabled bad-boy reputation, but tonight was Emma’s turn. She rarely wore black, due to its reminiscence of her time as the Dark Swan. However, this particular ensemble was far less severe than anything she would have worn while under the dark curse. A taut bustier and a feather-light dusting of a black lace and silk. The lace hugged every curve of her body as she turned on a low tune, humming it through the kitchen.

Emma’s heartbeat picked up in her chest as she heard the front door open. Footsteps on the finished wooden floor told her he was approaching. The house was mostly dark, so it was no wonder he had yet to see her. Turning, she leaned against the countertop.

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