under handed

lance’s frustration with not being listened to in the last episode of season 4 is not casual and it’s something he’s been holding in for a long time. he’s starting to realize something’s wrong with shiro and he’s gonna be the one to figure out he’s fake and then he’s gonna immediately alert keith and they’re gonna have an heartfelt moment where he’ll convince keith to come back thanks for coming to my ted talk

video messages (Reddie)

Helloooo! This is relatively short, (Im sorry!!) I’m on holiday though!! It’s a beach holiday so i’m not really doing anything, so i’m writing basically constantly!! So leave me requests for like any ships from IT!! I’m doing Hc’s, Fics, and one shots, so request anything here

Summary: Request: (Sorry if you aren’t doing these!) but imagine Richie being a Super Softie ™ around Eddie. BUT Eddie secretly takes videos of Soft Richie and sends them to the losers because they don’t believe it when Eddie says Richie isn’t always a Trashmouth ™

Wordcount: 1,549

“You look so cute today Eds.” Richie smiled, ruffling his boyfriends hair. Eddie rolled his eyes, a blush forming on his cheeks, as it often did when Richie was like this.

Richie acted like a comedian around all of his friends. He was cocky, and inappropriate, and could only be serious if you begged him. He was loud, and his friends all called him Trashmouth, because of his loud personality.

But around his boyfriend he was completely different. He was much ore quiet, and he didn’t crack any outrageous jokes. He was much nicer around Eddie. It was probably because Eddie didn’t take Richie’s shit. When Richie was with the losers, he would happily ride his bike around, and spend hours running around, and messing about. But with Eddie, Richie just wanted to sit on his couch, and hold Eddie in his arms, and play with his hair.

Eddie instinctively rose his hand, going to fix his hair. Richie grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together, absentmindedly. His attention was focused back on the cartoons that were playing on Richie’s TV in Richie’s living room. They were watching old Mickey Mouse cartoons, because Richie didn’t want to get up and put a movie on. Eddie bit his lip, watching as Richie squeezed his hand, gently.

“Don’t call me Eds.” Eddie stated, shaking his head. Richie rolled his eyes, and scoffed in Eddie’s ear. His breath tickled Eddie’s neck, which made Eddie blush. Again.

“Would you rather I called you Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie asked, smirking, though Eddie couldn’t see him. Eddie was lying in between Richie’s legs, his head resting on Richie’s chest. Richie was sat with his back against the couch. Richie had his head bent slightly, so he could annoy Eddie, by whispering to him, about nicknames.

“No..” Eddie mumbled, shaking his head. Richie’s lips made their way to Eddie’s cheek, where he left a soft kiss. Eddie sighed loudly, turning to look at Richie properly. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?” Richie asked, a laugh tumbling out of his mouth, and blocking the sound of the cartoons.

“Like all cute and shit!” Eddie practically shrieked. Richie’s laugh grew louder, as he titled his head back. Eddie shook his head, rolling his eyes, quickly. “It’s annoying. Very annoying.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, let me be a bad boyfriend.” Richie teased. Eddie glared at him. Richie burst into laughter again, shaking his head. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“Shut up!” Eddie snapped, pointing a finger at Richie. “It’s annoying me!” Richie rose an eyebrow, and Eddie huffed.”None of the others believe me when I say that you’re cute. They all tell me I’m being ridiculous. That Richie Trashmouth Tozier can’t be sweet!” Richie laughed, in a teasing tone.

“They’ll never see me being sweet! That’s reserved for my Eddie Bear.” Richie continued, wrapping his around Eddie, and hugging him tightly. Eddie was blushing again, and also attempting to swat Richie’s hands away. Eddie gave up, after Richie kissed his head, making Eddie’s head spin. Everything Richie did had a dramatic effect on Eddie. He had only found out last summer that he liked Richie.

They had been at Bill’s, for the fourth of July. They had been listening to whatever playlist Ben had put on. It was mostly hits from the 80’s, with occasional 90’s, and early 2000’s pop ballads. A slow song had come on, and everyone had teased Ben over it. Eddie couldn’t even remember what song it was, he just remembered Richie pulling him up, when Mike pulled Stan and Bill up, to dance. They were doing a slow sway, pretending to hula dance, in Ben’s back garden. Richie had pulled Eddie close, and swayed with him.

“Why are we slow dancing, this isn’t even a sow dancing song.” Eddie had asked quietly. Richie had shrugged, smiling slightly. He interlocked his fingers with Eddie’s, His hand was already resting on Eddie’s hip. Eddie had his hand placed on Richie’s shoulder, and was grateful that Richie had a strong grip on Eddie’s other hand, because otherwise Eddie would have fallen over. He was suddenly horrifically self-conscious. He had no idea why.

“I wanna slow dance, and you’re dainty enough to dance with, Eds.” Richie still had the small smile, gracing his lips. Eddie felt his heart almost burst. Fuck, he looks so cute, Eddie thought. And then he panicked. He couldn’t have a crush on Richie. Richie would hate him. And he couldn’t throw away his friendship with Richie over a thought, though. So he kept his mouth shut.

Although that one thought turned into hundreds. And two months later Richie was the only thing on his mind. He was constantly thinking about him. About what he was doing, About what he was thinking about. Everything. It all overwhelmed him, so much so that one day he didn’t show up to a meet up, with the rest of the group. Richie was worried, went over to Eddie’s house, and climbed through his window.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie had whispered harshly, as he shut his bedroom door. “If my mom see’s you, she’’ flip her shit!” He was panicked. His mother would actually kill him. She hated Richie with a burning passion.

“You missed the meet up! We were all waiting for you!” Richie shrugged. His voice was soft, and his eyes were filled with concern, behind his large glasses. “I got worried.”

“Worried?” Eddie repeated, his eyes going slightly wide. Richie nodded slowly,  Eddie felt his heart race, as it set in that Richie had been worried about him. Eddie bit his lip, looking down slightly. “You shouldn’t worry.” He muttered after a second.

“Why didn’t you come today, then?” It was a simple question, but Eddie couldn’t answer it. His mind raced with excuses, but none came out. “Are you sick?”

“Lovesick.” Eddie muttered, running a hand through his hair. He realised it slipped out, and looked up quickly. Richie stared at him for a second.

“Do you like Bev?” He asked quickly. His eyebrows were raised in alarm, and his voice was shrill. He sounded panicked. Eddie looked at him, confusion written all over his face. “You totally like Bev! Fuck!”

“I don’t like Bev! Jesus, keep your fucking voice down!” Eddie snapped. Richie bit his lip, still staring at Eddie. “Why are you so shrieky today?!”

“Because when the boy I like says he’s lovesick, it worries me!” Richie snapped back. His face quickly turned to shock, as he realised what he said, but he didn’t have time to overthink it, because Eddie was kissing him, and Eddie’s body seemed to go into shock.

It always happened. Every damn time. He site quietly, standing up from the couch, and stretching. “You gotta stop with the nicknames.”

“But they’re great!” Richie protested, shrugging as he lay down on the couch, stretching slightly, after watching Eddie do it. He bit his lip, staring at Eddie, who rolled his eyes again.

Eddie grabbed his phone from his bag, which was sat on the floor. Richie was watching him, smiling slightly. “Staring is creepy, Richie.” Eddie stated, looking back at Richie. He looked back at his phone, reading the texts from the losers.

Stan the man:

I can’t believe you bailed on us, Eddie

Stuttering Bill:

And to hang out with Richie, ew

Eddie Spaghetti:

He’s being insanely cute today, sorryyyy

Stan the man:

Impossible, he’s Richie.

The text made Eddie roll his eyes. A lightbulb went off in his head, though, as he turned back to Richie, completely. Richie was still watching Eddie. Richie flashed Eddie a grin, and Eddie smiled.

Eddie walked back over to his boyfriend, and sat down on his lap. Richie rose an eyebrow, putting his hands on his boyfriends hips. Richie’s hands slipped under Eddie’s t-shirt, his fingers drawing small patterns on Eddie’s hips. Eddie couldn’t help but smile.

Eddie was already on the camera app, pressing record, Richie didn’t notice. He was still staring at Eddie, smiling. Eddie pretended to be preoccupied, fake typing on his phone. Richie’s grin turned into a pout, which Eddie pretended not to notice.

“What are you doing, Eds?” Richie questioned, quietly.

“Texting Stan.” Eddie muttered quietly, pretending to type again.

“You should pay attention to me instead, baby boy!” Richie’s voice was soft, the smile making a short reappearance. Richie grabbed one of Eddie’s hands, lacing their fingers together, which he loved to do. Richie pulled Eddie’s hand towards him, and kissed it. Richie grinned again, he kissed Eddie’s hand again, and again. He smiled at Eddie each time.

Eddie stopped recording, and sent it to his groupchat, quickly. He leaned down, and played a soft kiss on his boyfriends lips. Richie kissed back, smiling into the kiss. Richie’s hands held Eddie’s face in place, as he moved his mouth against the other boys.

Eddie’s phone buzzed in his hand, but he ignored it, as he deepened his kiss with Richie. If he had of checked he would have seen the texts his friends were sending

Stan the man:

That was disgusting, never send me gay shit like that again.

Stuttering Bill:

Stan, babe, we’re guys dating..

Stan the man:

Bill, shut up.

The One With Stevie’s Book

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: A tiny discovery of Steven’s interest leads to a very surprising turns of events. 

Word Count:

Warnings: heavy making out ;) a lil’ nsfw, nothing much tho

Author’s Note: repost!! based off a friends episode, i think from season 7, TOW Rachel’s Book. i’m sorry guys, i’m not in the state of writing anything new, still coming down with the cold and all ugh 

Masterlist Here

Tonight was never supposed to turn out the way it did, but somehow you’re glad that it did. He was just here to tutor you since you needed his help. And he even did for three hours. After making you understand three whole chapters of Business Economics, your mind had blocked itself and you didn’t want to talk more about micro or macroeconomics. The demand for a break had overcome the supply of your energy and you desperately needed a drink to settle your mind.

So, Steve nonchalantly agreed upon staying when you asked him if he had anything better to do. You knew he’d either go to a frat party or just lay in his bed with his SpongeBob PJ’s and a shirt that was at least a size smaller for his chiselled torso.

You both snuggled up on your bed, away from your desk where you abandoned your books to watch a zombie movie your dorm roommate, Wanda had suggested. Opening your laptop, you enter the password and let Steve handle the task of searching the movie on Netflix.

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Kids In Love

Warnings: language, unprotected sex, blowjob, bad writing
Note: yikes please please please tell me how this is (ps.this is for @sebashtiansatan)

Taking a deep breath, Y/N looks at herself  in the mirror in the room she shared with Bucky. He was coming home from a month long mission, the longest they’ve been away from each other and she had thought that a little ‘celebration’ was in order.

“The team is set to arrive in two minutes,” FRIDAY’s voice rang out through the empty room. The suddenness of the announcement caused Y/N to slightly jump, that’s what she chalked it up to because she didn’t want to admit her nerves were getting the best of her.

“Thank you,” Y/N responds. She twirls around once more and smiles, Bucky was definitely going to enjoy this homecoming.

“Let’s do this,” she mumbles as she sat at her desk, acting as if she was busy. Y/N hears the front door of the apartment open and close, her heart starts to beat faster as she hears the heavy footsteps belonging to Bucky walk towards the room. The silence that follows was deafening as she knew Bucky was standing by the door, leaning against the frame. She could feel him staring holes into her back. Y/N stands up and wipes the smirk off her face and moves around pretending not to notice Bucky.

“So you missed me?” Bucky says suddenly. Y/N gasps as she turned around, it was supposed to be fake but nothing could prepare her for the sight in front of her. Bucky was still wearing his combat uniform, making him look hotter and more intimidating.

“Cause I missed you,” Bucky says as he pushes himself off the frame and walks towards the girl who was now standing by the bed.

“Uh-huh, I missed you too,” Y/N breathes out.

“Got pretty lonely.” Bucky’s lips curled up into a small grin as he notices the effect he has on her.

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If any man could win a wet t-shirt contest, it would have to be him. The drenched fabric clings to him like darkness to the stars in the sky. Drips slide down smooth skin and mat his hair.“You could catch your death like that.” The words are more innocent than what you’re thinking though he manages to catch your undertones and as he enters the house again he removes the soaked shirt. His arms dampen your own clothes as they snake around your waist and pull you close, His hands move under your shirt, long fingers traveling your spine and branching off to the curves of your shoulder blades as they sneakily push your shirt away.
“Oh no. Now you’re wet, too. I suppose we’ll have to warm each other up.” His words fall away and his lips find yours before trailing along his treasure map of spots that will make you moan, crumble, and finally collapse into his arms.

- Admin J

Ignore it.

Authors note: Rated M for mature audiences.

Shawn Master List found HERE

You roll over in the bed, the sound of an alarm stirring you from your sleep, but like every other ungodly hour it goes off, you disregard it. You have gotten used to being ungraciously awoken by Shawn’s alarm, in fact, you get worried when it doesn’t go off before the sun manages to rise and gander through the crack in the curtains. You throw your arm over towards his side of the bed, somewhat hopeful he has turned the alarm off and decide to go back to sleep, but to your bitter disappointment, his side of the bed bares nothing but an empty space of warm bedsheets. You let out a small groan, discontented that you can’t discover him in the bed. You overhear him chuckle as his feet prudently pad around the bedroom, undoubtedly doing their best to stay as serene as possible.

You nestle into the warmth of the sheets, contently attempting to fall back into your slumber but you’re coarsely distracted by Shawn’s sweet sounding voice, “You know, I wouldn’t mind having someone to run with,” Shawn delicately insinuates and you respond with a grunt, nestling further into the pillows, “Y/N,” Shawn draws your name out.

“It’s too cold,” you whimper, turning over onto your back and letting out a heavy sigh, well aware that going back to sleep is highly improbable.

Shawn looks with a fixed stare at you for a moment with a raised brow, “Honey, it is Autumn, of course, it is cold,” Shawn informs you, stating the obvious as he throws on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

“Too cold for me to get out of bed, it isn’t even light outside,” you protest, drawing the comforter tighter around you,

“Says the one that insisted on carving pumpkins outside while it was cold,” Shawn reminds you of the fact you batted your eyes and compelled him to carve pumpkins with you outside the other night while the air was crisp. But, there is a difference between carving pumpkins and being forced out of bed at an ungodly hour.

You feel the comforter being tugged at before it is pulled away from your body, exposing you to the coldness, you whine and mumble into your pillow before turning and glaring at Shawn. He looks at you with a cocky wink and confident smile, the smile dangling in the corner of his lips far too hard to pass up. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he grins blissfully as you sit up with a heavy sigh, your own lips curling into a pitiful pout. “Oh come on, don’t give me that look. Go for a run with me and I’ll make you strawberry crepes the way you like them,” he attempts to bribe and you shake your head as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and wander closer to him. He raises a brow as you step closer, licking your lips slightly,

“That’s not what I want in return,” you respond with a devious grin that complements the glimmer in your eyes.

He frowns as he grabs hold of his jacket, “well, what do you want?” He enquires, sliding the sports jacket up his arm and bringing it to his front.
You smirk and raise a brow, your eyes saying everything that needs to be said as you bite your lip, “ohh, oh, well, we could skip run and count that as a work out,” he announces as you step towards the wardrobe, his hands instantly clasping you at your waist, you chuckle and wiggle out of his grip before turning to face him, his lips plump and demanding some sort of attention, but you don’t give in.

“Ah-ah. You got me out of bed, you have to wait,” you shake your head, forcing him to curl his lips into an icy pout, “how far is this run?“ You question as you saunter away from Shawn.

“We can skip the run, my legs kinda hurt anyway,” Shawn watches you as you leisurely pull on workout clothes, completely disregarding him as he attempts to convince you that he no longer wants to run.

You don’t want to run either, but you’d much rather have him squirm and wait than to give in right now and take him on the bed.  

“Y/N, really… there’s no need for the run,”

“Shawn, it’s nearly six in the morning, you have me awake, we are going for that run.” You press formally with a smile, “you should have decided to skip the run sooner,” you add, his lips continuing to pout.

“My legs really hurt, I don’t think I can move,” Shawn comments as he sits on the edge of the bed, “oh, mmm… I think my leg needs massaging.” He sighs heavily, purposely grabbing your attention with his pitiful sigh.

You step closer to him and he presses his hands to your waist. “Think I might have to spend this morning in bed, it’s just so sore,” he murmurs with a subtle wink, gingerly drawing you down to leave your lips just inches away from his, “need some sympathy,” he whispers, brushing his lips against yours before taking bold possession of them.

He has always had a way of drawing you into his grasp and the sweet taste of his lips, he has a way with them. He knows how to kiss the corner of your lips in a way to thrill you and leave you wanting more— he knows how to enthral you without trying too much. His kiss is the type that always manages to touch you in the deepest of areas you never thought were possible. His kiss speaks more words than he or you can express, it is immemorially tasteful, sweet, and breathtaking.

You can’t help but give in, delicately leaning down on him as he lies the rest of his body down on the bed, your lips moving in perfect sync, his tongue brushing the edges of your mouth as you deepen the kiss. His hands slip under your shirt and settle into the small of your back before running them up and down your tepid skin as the two of you refuse to part your lips. His hands travel all around your back before they move to your front, his fingers clasping the material of your shirt before sliding it up, breaking the kiss for a minute to take it off of your body completely. It falls to the floor with ease and his lips press to the gentle warmth of your tender skin. He leaves an affable trail of kisses down your torso before warily pushing you to your back, his body hovering over you. Your hands move promptly to feel the material between your fingers, before it’s hoisted off of him, his body becoming exposed, his beautiful terrain of muscle and abs exposing themselves to your vulnerable eyes. You allow your hands to feel every dip and curve of his torso, intrigued by the sight, as always.

The sound of his phone ringing and vibrating against the bedside table disturbs the two of you, “fuck,” he mutters against your skin, his breath sending sweet shivers down your back.

“Ignore it,” you murmur back, your hands moving to the waistband of his shorts, tugging at them while he goes back to trailing kisses down your neck…

(I was going to write this as smut but I chickened out, sorry!)

Beneath Me

Summary: Ever wanted to read the classic ‘giving head under the desk when someone walks in on you’ for our this handsome fella? Look no further.
Requested by: my thirsty ass. ( gif credit. )
Pairing: Merlin x female Reader
Warnings: This whole thing is basically porn without plot, so entirely NSFW.
Do not read if you’re under the age of 18.
Word Count: 2.4k. I need help.

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A New Addition To The Family - A Lapidot Fanfic

Chapter Three – When You Wish Upon a Star

“P-peri…dot… I can’t…”


“Lapis!  Lapis, don’t try to speak!  Just… breathe…”


Peridot was pacing frantically at the foot of the bed as Lapis’ labour pains intensified.  She was gripping her tablet in one hand, after unsuccessfully using it to call Steven. She desperately needed help, but no-one would answer.  Her mind was a whirl – she had felt so well-prepared to help her girlfriend through the birth, and yet…


Lapis cried out in pain and Peridot ran to her side.  She took the Ocean Gem’s hand in her own, trying to keep a lid on the pure panic that was now bubbling up inside her.  Peridot’s eyes widened in horror as a sickening crack filled the air around her…


“LAPIS!” she yelled, “What was that?!”


Lapis groaned as she turned to face Peridot.  The green technician could now see her own look of abject horror reflected perfectly in the partner’s eyes, which had become a pair of lifeless mirrors – Lapis’ Gem had broken under the pressure.


“No no no no no no… please…” Peridot whimpered as she frantically tried to redial Steven’s number on her tablet, “Please… help…”




Another crack filled the air as Lapis’ form disappeared in a fierce explosion of blue smoke and pixels.  Peridot’s anguished screams rang out through the barn as she watched the blue tear-drop Gem, now split clean in half, fall onto the bed…

Peridot awoke with a start and tumbled off the edge of the bed, entangled in the blankets that she had been sleeping under.  Hands shaking violently, she lifted her visor in order to wipe away the tears that were now soaking her face.  She let out a hoarse sigh of relief as she realised…

“It was a nightmare… just a nightmare…  it’s OK…”

She gingerly pulled herself to her feet and looked around the room for Lapis and Pumpkin.  It was now extremely dark inside the barn as night had fallen.

“Lapis…?” Peridot called out. No answer.

“LAPIS?!” she cried a second time, panic beginning to set in.  When her yell was again met with silence, Peridot yanked her limb enhancers on and ran out of the barn as fast as she could.  When she got outside, called her partner’s name into the night air.

“Up here, Peridot!” a reply came from the truck that was embedded in the side of the barn.  Peridot looked up to see Lapis peering down at her from over the edge of the vehicle.

“Oh, thank the stars!” the technician exclaimed.  She immediately lifted an arm over her head and activated the limb enhancers’ helicopter mode in order to join her girlfriend.

The TV inside the truck was blaring out Camp Pining Hearts.  Pumpkin was sleeping soundly in front of the screen. For once, Peridot wasn’t even remotely interested in shooing the little veggie out of the way so that she could watch her favourite show.  Instead, she went and sat next to her partner, who was now giving her a very concerned look.

“Are you OK, Peridot?” Lapis enquired.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine,” Peridot replied, but Lapis wasn’t convinced.  The Ocean Gem watched as the technician stared at the floating fingers of her limb enhancers, which were anxiously intertwining with each other.

“Are you sure?  I mean…”

“Lapis, how did you even get up here?” Peridot abruptly asked, quickly changing the subject, “Isn’t it a little dangerous for you to be flying in your condition? You shouldn’t risk putting strain on yourself like that…”

Lapis smiled.  “It’s fine, Peri!  I’m not putting myself in any danger.  Is that what this is all about?”

Peridot didn’t answer.  Instead, she diverted her attention to the TV set. Her thoughts were chasing each other around inside her head, the intensity of the doubts that her nightmare had instilled in her growing more and more as each second passed.  After a few more moments of awkward silence, she nervously looked at Lapis.

“Lapis…” she began.


“I…” Peridot hesitated, struggling to find the right words, “I don’t feel like I’m prepared for this… this whole parenting thing!”

Lapis looked puzzled.  “What makes you say that?”

“It’s just that… well…” Peridot sighed, “I’m at expert in the field of Kindergartening.  My job on Homeworld involved me being there when new Gems popped out of the ground.  But… a Gem popping out of another Gem… that’s not the same thing!”

“But, we looked into all this, Peridot,” Lapis tried to reassure her frantic partner, “We did all of the research, right?”

“We did, but… what if something goes wrong?!”

Lapis snorted, a slightly wicked grin forming across her face, “Well, it’s a bit too late to be thinking about that, now that I’m already pregnant!”

The Ocean Gem’s cynical humour was completely lost on Peridot for once, who looked mildly horrified.

“Lapis, I’m being serious! Maybe… maybe we should ask for some help?”

“That seems sensible,” Lapis replied, “Why don’t we take Greg up on his offer to help?   He is a bit of an expert, after all.”

“Yeah, we should do that,” Peridot agreed, a little more upbeat now, “Didn’t Steven also say that Connie’s mother is a doctor?  Maybe he can ask her to come and check you over, Lapis…”

The green Gem looked at her partner and smiled weakly, a sense of relief finally beginning to flood over her.

“At least you’re smiling again now,” Lapis said softly as she shuffled to sit right next to Peridot, resting her head on the small Gem’s shoulder.  Peridot tenderly put an arm around her girlfriend.  She couldn’t stop her gaze from meeting Lapis’ stomach – which didn’t go unnoticed by the blue Gem.  Lapis carefully pulled the limb enhancer from Peridot’s free arm and took hold of her small green hand, placing it gently onto her baby bump.  

“It’ll be fine, Peridot” Lapis murmured, “We’re going to have our own little family… just me, you, Pumpkin and the Gemling…”

Peridot smiled contentedly.  She looked up at the sky, which was full of stars. Steven had once taught her the human tradition of “wishing upon a star”…  It’s something that she and Lapis had done on many occasions in the past, and Peridot felt like she wanted – or, rather, needed – to do so again now.  She silently looked around and found the brightest star in the sky, focusing her full attention on it.

Please let this all work out for us,” she thought to herself as she subconsciously tightened her arm’s grip around Lapis, “I wish for us to be a happy family, forever…”

She had no idea how long the pair of them were sat inside the truck, just silently relaxing together under the moonlight, watching the night sky.  Merely being in each other’s presence like this was pure bliss for the pair of them. They were inseparable, bound together by an intense and pure love that they wouldn’t give up for the world.

The technician was suddenly brought back to reality by a rather loud rumbling noise coming from her shoulder; Lapis had fallen asleep and, as per usual, had begun snoring.  

Peridot chuckled to herself. She very slowly got to her feet and gently lifted her girlfriend into her arms.

“C’mon, Laz,” she whispered lovingly, “Let’s get you to bed.”

Touch (IwaOi)

This is for the beautiful @amalasdraws <33 I’m more than happy to write a little thing for you :) We have some fluffy IwaOi, both of them are part of the national team, but it might have turned out a little different than expected xD I was in a fluffy mood today ;)

I hope you’ll like it ^^ Here we go:


The hotel is a sight to be seen. Everything in there from the carpets to the soft pillows in huge beds are extraordinary. Iwaizumi still takes in the room - his room- for their stay here. The whole national team has rooms on this floor and Iwaizumi is certain that each and every room is just as luxurious as his is. A smile tugs at his lips as he lets himself fall onto the soft mattress. The training camp hasn’t even begun yet but his muscles are already sore from their usual practice. He knows it will only get worse from now on, but that doesn’t really bother him.

He made it into the national team. That is a thing Iwaizumi still needs to wrap his head around. It still feels surreal. On the other hand Oikawa made it, too, and that isn’t as surreal as his own success. Iwaizumi was always certain that Oikawa had a bright future in volleyball and now they both have.

His thoughts are interrupted by a knock at his door and Iwaizumi is too lazy - and too exhausted- to go open it.

“Come in”, he calls out instead.

It is not a surprise as Oikawa opens the door, grinning at Iwaizumi. “The rooms are great, aren’t they, Iwa- chan? And the towels are so soft! I can’t believe how soft they are.”

Iwaizumi chuckles as Oikawa closes the door and walks over to the bed, plopping himself down next to Iwaizumi unceremoniously. “Of course you care about the towels first.”

“Indeed, Iwa- chan. I need to examine what touches my skin”, Oikawa replies. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Shittykawa.”

“Not surprising that a brute like you doesn’t understand the importance of towels, Iwa- chan”, Oikawa huffs, while scooting closer to Iwaizumi until their arms touch.

“Whatever you say”, Iwaizumi retorts, his hand brushing over Oikawa’s, entwining their fingers. He feels Oikawa’s calloused skin under his fingertips and knows his hands feel the same from hours and hours of volleyball. He loves that feeling.

“You want to know what else is allowed to touch my skin?” Oikawa asks after a while, voice low and making a shiver running down Iwaizumi’s spine.

Iwaizumi feels his cheeks heaten up. “What is it?” he asks even though he already knows the answer. Or thinks he does.

The sheets rustle as Oikawa turns towards Iwaizumi, now lying on his side. His breath ghosts over Iwaizumi’s jaw. “You”, Oikawa all but whispers and his lips finally make contact with tanned skin.

Iwaizumi squeezes Oikawa’s hand, before he lets go to be able to pull him close. Oikawa’s scent fills his nostrils and Iwaizumi places the tiniest of kisses at Oikawa’s temple. “Is that so”, he hums. “That would be good, because I love touching you.”

“I love touching you, too”, Oikawa says. “But even more I love to feel your hands on me.”

One of Iwaizumi’s hand slides under Oikawa’s shirt, touching the soft skin underneath. Oikawa breath hitches.

“Like this?” Iwaizumi whispers.

“Yeah”, Oikawa sighs happily, snuggling closer. “Like this.”

Their first evening of the training camp is filled with exercise even though they don’t leave Iwaizumi’s room until the next day.

Not Again

by: mldrgrl
Rating: PG-13
Summary: See chapter 1

Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14

Chapter 15, Day 169:

Reyes calls Mulder and asks him how quickly he can get to Montana.  She doesn’t tell him why, doesn’t want to say over the phone.  Doggett is in the hospital under a short quarantine from possible exposure to a biological agent.  With no one to make excuses to, he tells her he’ll be there right away.

When Mulder arrives in Helena, Reyes gives him the file of a suspect in custody who was arrested the night before for trespassing on a rancher’s property.  While the police were arresting the young man, another call came in from a rancher a few miles away that he’d found a body in a field on his property.  No body was recovered, but the neighbor of the rancher spotted two men coming out of the field shortly before the police arrived.

“The boy in custody, Richie Szalay, claims he was chasing a UFO and followed it onto the rancher’s property,” Reyes tells Mulder.  “He says his best friend was abducted in Oregon, just a few days before the others.”

“That’s true,” Mulder says, nodding.  “I know him.  Scully and I met Richie in Bellefleur a few days before the abduction.  Gary was already taken at that time.”

“I thought you’d be the best person to interrogate him.  He may not know anything about our missing fourteen, but he may still know something.”

Keep reading

Fic: Wake Up Call

Prompt: 13th-20th Oct.
Prompt: Someone falling asleep during an important meeting.
Bonus: How does the sleeping person is waken up?
Double bonus: Told from a 1st person POV.

Tagging @txf-prompt-box @today-in-fic @fictober

A/N: Sorry for the lack of writing lately. Grad school has taken priority in my life and I have come to call my new home the library. But I am still trying to get one drabble a week and I am still working on the case fic that I’ve been planning when I have a spare moment! Enjoy! And this is a word vomit I wrote in 30 minutes. Sorry.

Honestly, this is very un-Scully-like and very unprofessional but I was never one to judge for professionalism. She honestly is what made me and our division reputable. But here she is, sleeping. Well, Scully is more of dozing really. I know her ‘faking sleep’ and 'actually asleep’ breathing pattern. I have a whole catalog of Scully-isms that I am still adding to. But she is dozing.

I glance at the director giving the briefing. We had been drafted into a larger task force on some random criminal or another. I honestly don’t care. It bored me. I would rather be back in the basement. I think she would too but I’m too chicken shit to ask her. Shit. Never mind that thought. I am too afraid to ask her a lot of questions.

Scully has her face hidden in her hands quite cleverly. If you were stressed with yourself, you bury your face in your hands like a shade, covering your face, your arms supporting your embarrassment. It looks like you are studying or thinking too hard for your own good but no one can really see your eye closed. But she is sleeping. Clever scientist.

Damnit. The director is looking right at us. What do you do, Mulder?

I’ve heard the watercooler talk. Everyone is convinced I am sleeping with her. I wish. I can’t remember when I fell in love with her, but I fell in love hard. The once and only time in my life. But I know she would never have me.

I bent close, like I whispering something to her. My hand had a mind of its own as it gently massaged her knee cap and up her thigh over the tight skirt. (Fuck me). She responded instantly, jumping leaning towards me, as if we were talking to each other either the entire time.

“’M 'wake,” she slurred. She nuzzled her faced against my suit jacket, trying to dispel any evidence of her nap. She had to know. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Just try to stay awake, hm?”

“Sorry. Chemo,” she muttered.

My heart dropped as she reminded me of the cancer. I took her hand unconsciously and squeezed it under the table, out of the sight of the rest of the task force. “Sorry,” I managed, squeezing her hand.

“You’re fine,” she whispered, taking useless notes. She squeezed my hand in return. “Thanks, Mulder.”

I felt guilty and scribbled on my notepad. 'Drive you home? Dinner? Pampering?’ I turned to her nonchalantly, trying to watch everyone else. She was writing something and pushed the pad of paper towards me. 'Yes x 3. Thank you.’ She left a little heart next to the thank you and I smiled, never letting go of her hand under the table.

wow what if I could slightly ameliorate my dog’s symptoms!!! what if she improves even just a little bit and I then at least know what it FUCKING IS

John knows the boys are getting a little old to still be sleeping together in the same bed. He’s told them several times on several different occasions that when they find a motel for the night, one of them needs to take the couch. 

They don’t listen…

His boys think he doesn’t notice the small touches and caresses between them when they’re in the backseat of the Impala and John’s semi focused on the road ahead. The boys think he doesn’t notice or can tell that they hold hands under the blankets when they’re laying down and watching cartoons as they settle to get ready for bed.

Sometimes John thinks it’s his fault that his boys have grown so attached to one another. Maybe he shouldn’t leave them alone together for such long periods of time. But what else is he supposed to do? He needs to find that damn thing that killed Mary…

Sam and Dean may still be young. Still young enough for John to rationalize and explain away their codependency in his mind. But they’re growing up so fast and what then? What will John be able to tell himself as an excuse as to why his children are so unusually close? 

anonymous asked:

It’s bloody and raw but I swear it’s sweet for fenhawke please :)

She tangles their hands together under the table. Resting on his thigh, finger locked between finger, palm against palm. She moves even closer, arm pressed against arm, and he feels the hard press of her chin on his shoulder. Turning his head to see her looking at him plainly, blinking bright eyes. “Will you stay tonight?” She never usually asks. He knows the offer is always there, her door open, but she never pushes, never pressures. Fenris squeezes her hand, gives her a nod. The smallest smile, turning her head to rest it on his shoulder. The others chatter endlessly on, pay this affection no mind.

They leave much the same way, still hand in hand, arm against arm. “You were quiet tonight,” he tells her. He says tonight, but means far more than that. He means the growing dark circles under her eyes, the nightmares that keep her up at night. He means the nervous glances she casts the Templars on the streets, the worried downturn of her mouth when Anders refuses to speak to her. Where once the Hanged Man was a place for laughter, it’s now a refuge – something like safety.

“Was I?” Hawke looks thoughtful as she ponders what he said, until she shrugs, continues to walk. He stops on those steps, and she turns back to look at him, a little surprised. Pulling her down to him, free hand reaching for her face. Brushing against her cheek, fingers curling at her nape as he presses the kiss to her lips. She leans against him, winds a fist in his tunic, surrenders completely. The taste of ale lingers on her tongue, the night air cool on her skin.

At her estate, he sits cross-legged on the floor by the fire. She passes him a glass of wine as she settles herself down beside him, a blanket wrapped around her. He places the glass beside him as he opens the book to where they left off, tucking the bookmark between further pages. She curls up like a cat, her head resting on his leg. She closes her eyes as she listens to the sound of his voice, carefully read words. He fixes that stray strand of hair for her, tucks it behind her ear.

He knows why she asked him to stay. Even without asking, he would have come to her. Without asking he would have held her, hugged her close. Chased away the dreaming, kept the nightmares at bay. How many times had she done that for him? His hand lingers in her hair, thumb brushing against her cheek. Pulling the blanket upwards to cover her completely, staying there as he continues to read. He can hear her breathing slowing, the twitch of sleep in her fingers.

Placing the bookmark, putting the book down beside the glass. He feels greedy, wanting to steal her away. There have been too few of these moments lately – too much time taken by Templars and mages, bandits and thieves. If he could lift that weight from her shoulders, he would. For now, all he can do is help her bear it, hope he makes her days a little easier. He lifts her carefully, carries her gently. Tucking her into the bed, crawling in beside her.

“Fen,” she says, and their legs tangle together. He smiles as her nose scrunches, as she buries her face in the crook of his neck. He wraps his arms around her, and smooths her hair, fixing errant strands. “I love you,” and it’s barely a mumble, a passing statement as she fades back into sleep. Hardly coherent, and yet she always makes sure he knows it. He holds her a little tighter, kisses the crown of her head.

“I love you too,” he tells the silence, and it sounds like a promise. Telling himself that he would keep her safe, that he would take her from here – that he would find them some sort of peace.

anonymous asked:

i'm sorry but i haven't stopped screaming since they threw song of solomon in our faces like. this is a deadass giveaway isn't it. there's no way you can just handwave a sign like that, this is happening for real

As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.

He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.

Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love.

His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me.

I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.

anonymous asked:

Hi Sophie, it is non-camren related. But I know you can give me advice on this. I know one girl and she told me she is straight and her ex was a man; we talk like friends but we had a trip and shared a bed. While we were talking with another friend, she held my hand under blanket and we kept it intertwine. And when we were walking, I put my hand on her shoulder then she kinda held my fingers and sometimes rubbed it. I really want to know what she thinks of me. I don’t dare to ask her at all.

The only knowledge I got for those kind of situations only comes directly from fanfictions since I don’t have a life, even less a romantic one 😂  anywhoo, you can keep playing touchy feely and see if she reciprocates again, the whole thing can escalate quickly, physically speaking, without having to say anything, or it can keep being a touch-and-go kinda thing because either she’s a touchy-feely person by nature and she just acts like that with people she’s close with, no romantic feelings needed, or maybe simply because just like you she’s scared and wondering what you think of her. Observe how she interacts with other people to see if indeed it’s clearly different when she’s with you.

People find it usually easier to act than to talk and you can read a lot into someone’s body language and their actions towards you, but at the end of the day the only way to be sure about whatever is happening between you guys is to indeed talk about it. If your goal is to only know what she thinks of you then maybe you could just casually ask her, it doesn’t have to be the big “Do you like me?” romantic undertone question, you can start by trying to get into a conversation that is a bit deeper than what you would usually do, and talk about your feelings first, I know it’s hard, but again, it doesn’t have to be a big confession, you can tell her that you feel closer to her now, that she’s become important to you, or whatever feelings you have about this girl, but it can stay around the “deep friendship” theme - her response to that will already be a big clue as to how she feels about you. 

So I guess my advice to this, with the very little information I have on the situation, is that maybe you just need to spend more time with her and see how things evolve, take your time, if your meant to marry this girl you will

anonymous asked:

Jon had rapey commentary in ACOK?

Not inflicting it on someone but dealing with it… Like this is him thinking about losing his virginity. 

Two hearts that beat as one. Mance Rayder’s mocking words rang bitter in his head. Jon had seldom felt so confused. I have no choice, he’d told himself the first time, when she slipped beneath his sleeping skins. If I refuse her, she will know me for a turncloak. I am playing the part the Halfhand told me to play.

His body had played the part eagerly enough. His lips on hers, his hand sliding under her doeskin shirt to find a breast, his manhood stiffening when she rubbed her mound against it through their clothes. My vows, he’d thought, remembering the weirwood grove where he had said them, the nine great white trees in a circle, the carved red faces watching, listening. But her fingers were undoing his laces and her tongue was in his mouth and her hand slipped inside his smallclothes and brought him out, and he could not see the weirwoods anymore, only her.

Also Jon is 15 or 16 and Ygritte is 19 & has had a lot more sexual experience in the last five years. This is Jon’s post coital musings…

A part, he tried to remind himself afterward. I am playing a part. I had to do it once, to prove I’d abandoned my vows. I had to make her trust me. It need never happen again. He was still a man of the Night’s Watch, and a son of Eddard Stark. He had done what needed to be done, proved what needed to be proven.

The proving had been so sweet, though, and Ygritte had gone to sleep beside him with her head against his chest, and that was sweet as well, dangerously sweet. He thought of the weirwoods again, and the words he’d said before them. It was only once, and it had to be. Even my father stumbled once, when he forgot his marriage vows and sired a bastard. Jon vowed to himself that it would be the same with him. It will never happen again.

It happened twice more that night, and again in the morning, when she woke to find him hard. The wildlings were stirring by then, and several could not help but notice what was going on beneath the pile of furs. Jarl told them to be quick about it, before he had to throw a pail of water over them. Like a pair of rutting dogs, Jon thought afterward. Was that what he’d become? I am a man of the Night’s Watch, a small voice inside insisted, but every night it seemed a little fainter, and when Ygritte kissed his ears or bit his neck, he could not hear it at all. Was this how it was for my father? he wondered. Was he as weak as I am, when he dishonored himself in my mother’s bed?

This cave scene goes down pretty much as it did in the show but it happens after they’ve done it many times already but dressed, under their cloaks & surrounded by people so this is the first time he sees her naked after “he had been in her half a hundred times” in his own words. But then things take a consensual turn.

“I know I want you,” he heard himself say, all his vows and all his honor forgotten. … “I love the smell of you. I love your red hair. I love your mouth, and the way you kiss me. I love your smile. I love your teats. I love your skinny legs, and what’s between them.”

After the pillow talk that went down in the show, Ygritte tries to talk about Wildling relationship stuff & Jon backs off. Wildling foreplay is to ‘steal a woman’. Here she gives an example of a crow who took a wildling woman & went back to the wall after getting her pregnant. 

“I feared you’d do the same once. Fly back to the Wall. You never knew what t’ do after you stole me.”

Jon sat up. “Ygritte, I never stole you.”

“Aye, you did. You jumped down the mountain and killed Orell, and afore I could get my axe you had a knife at my throat. I thought you’d have me then, or kill me, or maybe both, but you never did. And when I told you the tale o’ Bael the Bard and how he plucked the rose o’ Winterfell, I thought you’d know to pluck me then for certain, but you didn’t. You know nothing, Jon Snow.” She gave him a shy smile. “You might be learning some, though.”

The light was shifting all about her, Jon noticed suddenly. He looked around. “We had best go up. The torch is almost done.”

They do it again but after they do it again, he’s back to feeling guilty.         

His guilt came back afterward, but weaker than before. If this is so wrong, he wondered, why did the gods make it feel so good?

From earlier chapters, it’s obvious he didn’t feel attracted to her, because this is how he described her in the chapter right before this one: 

Ygritte’s hair was such a tangle that Jon was tempted to ask her if she only brushed it at the changing of the seasons. At a lord’s court the girl would never have been considered anything but common, he knew. She had a round peasant face, a pug nose, and slightly crooked teeth, and her eyes were too far apart.”

And he was coerced into doing it the first time, the first virginity losing situation happens right after this when Mance confronts him about still being a crow: 

“They are still his brothers,” declared Styr.

“They’re not,” insisted Ygritte. “He never killed me, like they told him. And he slew the Halfhand, we all saw.”

Jon’s breath misted the air. If I lie to him, he’ll know. He looked Mance Rayder in the eyes, opened and closed his burned hand. “I wear the cloak you gave me, Your Grace.”

“A sheepskin cloak!” said Ygritte. “And there’s many a night we dance beneath it, too!”

Jarl laughed, and even Harma Dogshead smirked. “Is that the way of it, Jon Snow?” asked Mance Rayder, mildly. “Her and you?”

It was easy to lose your way beyond the Wall. Jon did not know that he could tell honor from shame anymore, or right from wrong. Father forgive me. “Yes,” he said.

It was not until they were halfway across the Milkwater that Jon felt safe enough to say, “I never asked you to lie for me.”

“I never did,” she said. “I left out part, is all.”

“You said—”

“—that we fuck beneath your cloak many a night. I never said when we started, though.” The smile she gave him was almost shy. “Find another place for Ghost to sleep tonight, Jon Snow. It’s like Mance said. Deeds is truer than words.”

So it’s weird, George really jumped rope with consent here, which makes it realistic in terms of this society & the situation. There are sexier ways to pull off the ‘I shouldn’t for honor but I really want to’ thing if that was the goal but this left me confused & uncomfortable in terms of what exactly is happening to Jon here? Emotionally & psychologically. Maybe I’ll get more answers in later chapters. 


There’s a lot of emotion behind their skating outfits/// ❤️️