wait until it subsides

starsinursa  asked:

Word prompt: Sunflower 🌻

Ever since Cas came back it was hard to keep track of him. As an angel, he’d been absent. As a human, he was surprisingly more so. Absent and distant.

Dean tried to be patient when he heard the door to the bunker open and close in the middle of the night, or when he walked in to Cas’s room only to find it empty. Again. 

When Dean asked where Cas was going, he’d simply say “out.” 

He didn’t look angry or frustrated when he left. Just sad. Which was probably worse.

Dean sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose when he saw Cas making his way to Dean’s closet to borrow a jacket. 

He used to like the sight of Cas in his clothes, but this had become the habit before he left again, and Dean found the sight always came with a bitter aftertaste because of the fact. 

He didn’t bother asking where Cas was going as he leaned on the doorframe to watch as Cas flipped the skewed collar down with his thumbs as he leaned his chin down. 

“It’s going to rain,” Dean said, instead. “Hard. Maybe you should wait until the storm subsides before you go… wherever it is you’re going.”

Cas didn’t stop, though, as he picked up a pair of shoes, swiftly pulling them on his feet and knelt down to tie them one at a time. 

“Can’t,” he said, casually. “The storm is why I’m going.”

The sound of thunder cracked through the walls of the bunker, and suddenly, Dean had had enough. 

“Damn it, Cas,” he pushed past Cas, knocking against his shoulder, then grabbed a thicker coat from the closet. He threw it hard at Cas’s chest with a scowl. 

Cas barely caught it awkwardly before it fell, looking surprised. 

“If you need to get away from us so friggin’ badly you’re willing to go out in this crazy ass storm, then at least take a jacket with you that has a hood, ” Dean snapped. 

He tried to leave the room when a hand grabbed his arm. 

Cas looked at him for what felt like the first time in weeks, and Dean had forgotten how much he missed the color blue. 

“It’s not to get away from you,” Cas said calmly. He looked warmly at the coat as if it were the nicest gesture Dean could have given him and not an old piece of fabric chucked in his face. 

Cas started to put the jacket on over the one he already had. The two awkward coats looked ridiculous and somehow amazing on him. Dean fought the tiny smile that tempted him when he spied it. 

Cas grabbed the keys to his car on the dresser. “Come with me,” he said, flipping the hood up and zipping the outer coat. “I want to show you something.”

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Morning After

Requested by: @dmxlover2968

Scenario: a fluffy and smutty g dragon where it’s the morning after their wedding
A/N: I’m not sure how well this turned out, I’m so up in the air about it, but I sincerely hope that you enjoy this.
Genre: G-Dragon x Reader
Words: 3201

Disclaimer: The gifs used are not mine and belong to their rightful owners.

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Shameless Manorian pregnancy fluff (w/ a dash of angst because I can’t help myself)

On request for @empressofalderley 

[Manorian - I Hate Vomiting]

Dorian Havilliard walked into his private chambers after a long, arduous meeting—and was surprised to find Manon lying on their bed. It was half past noon, she was never home during the day.

“Why aren’t you training?” He asked, walking over to the closet.

“I don’t feel well.” Her voice was laced with annoyance.

He removed his coat and stuffier pieces of clothing and then padded over to her. There was an untouched glass of water, a pile of untouched crackers, and a bucket. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”

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mcdonald's and paparazzi

REQUEST: What if the reader is having a really tough day and Sebastian tries to distract her so he takes her to idk… McDonald’s and it’s full of paparazzis so they have to order take away and Seb feels really bad and apologizes. 

WARNINGS: language. 



The minute you got home you wanted to disappear under the covers and never come back out to face the world. Work was currently kicking your ass real bad and not to mention the amount of hate you were getting on every part of the Internet for having such a lovable boyfriend. 

Your phone rang in your purse but you ignored it. While walking to your room, you undressed and left a trail of clothes in the hallway and all the way to the front door of your bedroom. You sighed, falling onto the bed and pulling the comforter over your head. You closed your eyes and hoped that the ground would swallow you up. That would be ideal. 

You didn’t know how long you had been out for, but at the moment you were being pulled out of bed. 

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anonymous asked:

I love your writing! You do an amazing job! Could we get an Alpha Reaper with Omega mate for the A/B/O prompt #15-- Alpha scolding their mate for daring to walk, then they proceed to pick them up and bring them to lay them back down.

((Thank you anon <3))


Your voice was soft, tinged with sleep and hoarse from overuse during your heat the week before. Evidence of your heat still lingered in the air; the scent of pheromones, your mixed secretions and sweat hanging stubbornly about. You were half asleep when Gabriel had carefully moved you back into the bedroom, wrapping you in a clean scented sheets. Shifting, you could feel that last round of slick and cum had been cleaned away, the sharp scent of ointment a clear indicator that he had already treated your bruises and bites. A slow smile tugged at your lips as you remembered the whirlwind of the previous days, your heat spent in absolute rapture with Gabriel. Looking around the empty room, you doubted he had wandered too far.

During your heats you didn’t allow your Alpha to leave your side when conscious, but before and during the quarterly visits, Gabe stayed at your side to make sure all your needs were cared for. You adored this side of him, the one that hid under the hardass, that demanded that he take care of all of those around him. There were times you teased him and point out how kind and gentle and soft he was, earning an empty glare and a smirk. This was a Gabe everyone deserved to know but so few got the honor and you felt blessed to constantly have a front row seat.

You winced as you sat all the way up, pushing your legs over the edge of the bed, the inside of your thighs and hips protesting the movement. Snorting softly to yourself, you made a mental note to chastise Gabriel for how hard he had plowed into you completely ignoring that you had asked him first. Still, you pushed through the ache, setting your feet on the ground and pausing for another moment to get your bearings. You were absolutely parched, your ravished body demanding immediate sustenance. Your movements were slow and methodic, your hand going to scratch at your scalp yet finding your hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. Gabe really did think of everything. You’d have to remember to thank him when he was back.

Easing yourself all the way onto the floor, you waited until the shaking in your knees subsided before you took your first steps. Your hands groped at different items in the room for support;first the bed, then the nightstands, the wall, the door frame and then the hall wall. You just needed to make it to the bathroom where you knew there was a glass sitting next to the sink. A few more steps…You actually whined out loud when your left knee buckled, your shoulder bumping hard against the cold frame of the wall, cursing softly.  Water then immediately back to bed. Just a few more yards and then water and back to bed.

“Carino what’re you doing?”

You glanced over your shoulder, Gabriel’s brow was furrowed in concern, the man rushing forward from the top of the stairs to place his hand on the small of your back. His eyes looked you up and down for any sign of visible injury before he dipped down to sweep you into his arms. Your trill was high pitched and surprised, head twisting to look at Gabriel indignantly before receiving a quick growled response.

“You know damn well you aren’t supposed to walk after your heats”, Gabriel warned, leaning down and pressing a warning nip to your jawline when you tried to whine. “That’s why I found you ready to collapse, didn’t I?”

“I’m a grown woman Gabe”, you tried to argue back, before the Alpha sent you a warning look. “F-fine…”

You had to admit, leaning into Gabriel and nuzzling into the side of his neck and soaking in his scent was comforting, intoxicating. As he placed you back in bed he pinned you with a look before saying he would be right back, disappearing from the room for several moments. Your eyes went round when he returned, mouth watering.

“Thought you were still asleep”, he said, carrying two plates filled with your favorites. Eggs, corn pancakes, sausage and bananas, two water bottles tucked under his arm. “So I was trying to fix you something…if I thought you were gonna go AWOL on me, querida, I would have thrown you over my shoulder and took you downstairs with me.”

Reaching out for your plate your eyes lit up when he finally slid it into your hands, picking up a pancake with your bare hand and taking a bite.

“‘M sorry thank you”, you said around the food, practically moaning as the food filled your mouth. You smiled thankfully at him, giving him a soft, affectionate trill of happiness before swallowing and nodding towards his arm. “Water please?”

Quiet little headcanon #18

Jeremy has chronic tinnitus. 

Often accused of not paying attention, having his headphones on and his music too loud, or simply not listening; the truth is that the constant buzzing in his head is made worse by noise. In his line of work - with regular exposure to gunfire, explosions, sirens and half a dozen colleagues who don’t understand the meaning of “an inside voice” in his ear for several hours a day - it understandably takes a toll on his hearing.

At times it gets so bad that the only relief is to put on noise-cancelling headphones and wait in silence until it subsides. 

He hasn’t told the others. Hence the confusion. He’d rather they think he doesn’t pay attention - that it’s a problem he can fix - than know it’s a cause for concern for his well being. He’d let nothing jeopardize his spot on the crew, not after he worked so hard to secure it. Not after he found where he was meant to be. It’s almost selfish on his part, but he carries on, managing it as best he can, all the while terrified it might one day cost them more than they can afford to give.

“Batman: The Movie”, starring Bruce Wayne

Based on prompt #406 by the amazing @lego-batjokes-prompts !

Surprisingly, no angst whatsoever.

Also on AO3.


“Well. This is awkward.”

At the sound of Bruce’s voice, Joker looked up from his book, eyebrow raised. “What is?”

“I was just offered the part of Batman in an upcoming movie,” retorted the billionaire, expression stuck between amusement and something akin to horror.

“Oh my God, really? Do you think you can handle that darling, seems like a bit too dark of a role for you,” proclaimed the clown, the picture of perfect worry that nobody ever would believe to be real. Completely ignoring the glare he was given, the criminal continued.

“I mean, you’re a pampered rich boy, how would you know anything about vigilantism?” he asked, the end of the question dissolving into laughter.

Bruce waited until the giggling subsided, before sarcastically asking “Are you quite done now?”

“Goodness me, no, this is but one angle to explore! You want to hear another?” Not waiting for a response, he pressed on: “Bruce Wayne, the furry vigilante everyone wants to be. People are going to lap that up,”


“Now there’s a thought. Imagine if they want to show the alter ego. Imagine they make Batman’s secret identity Bruce Wayne. I can almost hear the outrage. ‘Wayne? The Batman? Are you insane, that guy can’t even tie his shoelaces without help!’” crowed the jester.

“And the most important question, if you’re cast as you, do you think they’ll ask your butler to play himself too?”

“I’m not playing myself, I’m playing Batman,” responded Bruce, having at this point resigned himself to the mockery of the green haired menace he was unfortunate enough to call a lover.

“But honey, you are the Batman.”

“But not Bruce Wayne–”

“That’s not what your legal documentation says though–”

“Joker, I swear to God–”

“Did you hit your head too hard or something, here let me–”

“Why are you like this?”

anonymous asked:

Would you do Hanzo and McCree with a S/O who has a mentally abusive ex so they think really bad of themselves and they feel slightly sick when they see them? It's something I struggle with..

(I absolutely know that feeling. I’m so sorry that someone treated you so poorly. I hope this helps. It felt really good to write.)


Your fingers burned from the strain of pulling back the bow string for the umpteenth time, but you tried to focus through the pain. The first time that Hanzo had invited you to sit with him while he practiced you had been so excited that you asked him to teach you to shoot and he was more than happy to do so. But by now you were starting to regret it. The tension wore out your muscles faster than you had expected, even with a child’s bow, and you were lucky to hit within a foot of your intended target. You released the string and missed the target by an inch. You slumped, defeated, and sat down on the training room floor with your bow on the floor beside you.

“What’s wrong?” Hanzo asked and sat on the floor next to you. “Are you tired?”

“I can’t do it.” Your voice cracked, and you tried to hide the tears flooding your eyes. You were ashamed that you couldn’t learn to shoot, and, to make matters worse, you were sitting on the floor moments away from crying like a baby. “I’m no good at anything. I’m too weak, and I’ll never learn to do anything right. I wasted your time. This was a terrible idea.”

You choked back a sob and rushed to wipe the tears from your face. To your surprise, Hanzo pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around you so tight that you couldn’t move your arms.

“Don’t cry, my love,” he said to you softly. He waited until your stifled sobs subsided before continuing. “The first time I held a bow, I missed every shot. That day my father told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was his greatest disappointment. I decided then that I would become a great marksman, not to please him, but to prove him wrong.

“Others may have told you that you are worthless,” he told you, ”but only because they wished to control you. The only person you exist to satisfy is yourself.”


You had been in the process of getting dressed when your reflection in the mirror caught your eye, and that was where you were stuck in only your underwear staring critically at the person in front of you. You squeezed at your waist and stomach. Fat, you thought. You wiggled parts of your legs. Gross. You leaned in close and began listing every pimple and scar on your face. Ugly. You were turned to your side and practicing holding in your stomach when you heard a knock and McCree let himself in. He looked you up and down one time.

“Don’t look at me,” you demanded and hurried to put on your robe.

“What are you up to?” he asked, watching you despite your protests. “Feeling alright?”

“No, I’m just-” You tightened your robe against his gaze. “Why do you like me?”

McCree just stared back, confused by your sudden inquiry, so you pressed on.

“I’m ugly,” you started, fixated on the mirror again. “I’m way out of shape. I’m so fat, it’s gross. I don’t take care of my skin. I’m not pretty, and I don’t even have the brains to make up for it.”

“Who told you all that?” McCree interrupted.

You had been so intent on your reflection that you hadn’t noticed him come up behind you.

“No one,” you told him. “It’s just what I see.”

“You know what I see?” he asked and put his hands on your sides. “I see a figure that I could hold forever. I see the sweetest rosy cheeks this side of the Mississippi. (He pecked your cheek playfully.) I see a neck that I never get tired of kissing. (He kissed the nape of your neck which made you giggle.) And, come here Jesus, I see a smile that damn near knocks me dead.”

You couldn’t help but smile wider as he piled compliment after compliment on you. When he finally ran out of features to praise he embraced you tightly.

“Now if you don’t see what I see, baby, I think it’s high time we got you a new mirror,” he told you. “Cause this one’s clearly broken.”

Crossfire - 18

Chapter 17
Yoongi x Reader
Gang AU

Chapter 18 / Words: 1967
A/N: Its not over yet!!!!! this one is dedicated to lucy bc shes so great to me and read all the previous chapters in one night ily lu!!! 


“Jesus, girl, shut up!” the man in the suit yelled, trying to wrestle an arm around your face.

You didn’t know why his name slipped off your lips when you decided to scream, but it was better than nothing. You did everything you could to keep the man’s hand off of your mouth, and you prayed to god that the boys hadn’t gotten in the car yet.

You heard doors opening behind you and heavy feet hitting the pavement.

“Changgu, shut her up!” an angry voice shouted. It was getting too close to you.

“Believe me, I’m fuck-OW! I’m fucking trying!”

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Request (Anon): Teasing first kiss with Boyd? Something fluffy?

A/N: So I’m sorry…this is probably the cheesiest thing I’ve written but I have feels for Boyd. So don’t judge…

Words: 1747

You’re not sure how you ended up in this current predicament but you aren’t complaining. You like the bed that you are waking up in. It belongs to your best friend, Boyd. You were the one who picked it out after all. As you nuzzle your face against the pillow beneath you, you can’t help but smile at the memory of dragging Boyd through IKEA when he moved to his apartment.

Empty beer bottles are seated on the bedside table, next to the alarm clock and your empty wine glass.

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valeriianz  asked:

“Somewhere deep inside me, I still have hope that you’ll fall in love. How pathetic.” (Coliver and make it really frickin' SAD) cos I'm in a weird mood :,D

Wow this took long to write but anyways here you go, have a Coliver High School AU :) 

Connor clenches his jaw and forces himself to stare back at Oliver with cold, hardened eyes.

“You…you want to stop this?” He asks, his voice lacking any specific emotion as he echoes Oliver’s words.

If Oliver is affected by this conversation at all, he certainly isn’t showing it; instead he chooses to stare right back at Connor, standing his ground with his head held high. The only difference in the two of them right now is the tiniest glimpse of vulnerability in Oliver’s eyes that only Connor would be able to notice because he knows him so well.

“I have to” Oliver responds “I just…I can’t do this anymore.”

Connor frowns, his eyebrows drawing together so hard that distinct lines form on his forehead.

“Why not? It’s been going good hasn’t it? You can’t say you didn’t enjoy any of it!” Connor adds the last part in with a small laugh, “Come on Ollie these past few months have been great-“

“I’m not denying that.” Oliver says simply “I just can’t continue like this, us fucking all the time but hanging out at school and at parties like we’re still just best friends, I can’t go on as if-“

“As if what, Oliver?” Connor’s voice has turned almost mocking and cruel in an attempt to guard himself and his emotions and he tries his best not to clench his fists so much that his fingers force blood from his palms. No matter how tempting the thought is, he doubts it could hurt more than this sinking feeling in his stomach as he waits for Oliver’s explanation.

Oliver sighs exasperatedly, “As if I’m not in love you”.

Just like that everything freezes and Connor’s bedroom falls completely silent, except for the faint ringing in Connor’s ears.

He feels lightheaded, his mouth unconsciously drops open and his eyes widen and he feels like a professional boxer just took a strong swing at him.

It’s not the words themselves that shock Connor. Being friends with Oliver for the past five years, he knows how to read him and Connor may have suspected Oliver had feelings for him but Connor was determined to bury those suspicions, if Oliver didn’t want to tell him then they could continue with their friends-with-benefits charade and everything would be fine.

Except Oliver has just told him that he loves him and he told him in the most exhausted tone that Connor’s ever heard. That’s what shocks him and that’s what hurts.

The knowledge that Oliver has…just given up.

“I…” Connor starts, he doesn’t know what he wants to say, doesn’t know how to fix this or what he wants to happen but he just knows he has to say something. “Oliver I…I like you…you’re my best friend. I just…I…”

“Don’t do relationships?” Oliver supplies and there’s no resentment in his voice, it’s even and balanced as if he’s just stating a fact; which Connor supposes he is in a way.


“Exactly.” Oliver whispers “You don’t do relationships and I do.”

“Hey, you were the one who started this.” Connor reminds him, his words dangerously boarding on the side of harsh.

But it’s no lie. Six months ago it was Oliver who approached Connor at Asher’s house party. It was Oliver who pushed him against the wall and rambled into his ear about how much he wanted him.

Connor had reluctantly shaken his head and refused. Oliver had been drunk, so much so that Connor could smell the revolting scent of cheap beer every time Oliver leaned in towards him and there was no way in hell that Connor was going to take advantage of his best friend, especially when he wasn’t in his right mind.

Oliver had glared back at him, utterly furious and stormed off to Michaela who later brought him home because Oliver refused to go home with Connor as originally planned; the next morning Connor woke up to Oliver’s ringtone and the second he answered, Oliver’s desperate apologies flooded his ears.

“Hey, hey Ollie calm down, it’s fine.”

“No, no, fuck it’s not Connor I’m so sorry, please, I was so drunk and I’m sorry, I-“

“Did you mean it?”

“What? I-“

“Oliver. Did you mean it?”

“Y…Yes I meant it.”

“That you wanted to fuck me?”

“I…fuck Connor you’re such an asshole, yes.”

“Well then, what are you doing later today?”

And that was that. Afterwards Connor asked if Oliver was okay with this just being a sex thing with no romantic feelings attached. Oliver had readily agreed and as far as Connor could tell, Oliver hadn’t been lying when he said he was okay with it.

Perhaps it was the afterglow that had clouded Connor’s judgement. Maybe Oliver had looked upset or disappointed when he said that but Connor never picked up on it. If he had, he never would have continued this in the first place.

“I know I did. I’m sorry. This wasn’t fair to you.” Oliver wraps his arms around himself, his right hand clutching his elbow and his left hand underneath clutching his side.

Connor runs a hand through his hair, swallows hard and stares down at the stain on his carpet that Oliver made two years ago when he spilled his spaghetti bolognese dinner from laughing too hard at something Connor said that neither of them can remember now.

“So why did you…why did you keep this thing going if you…you know?”

Oliver’s dark, sarcastic laugh is what causes Connor to look up at him again and the pain on Oliver’s face cuts through Connor’s heart like a knife.

“Because somewhere deep inside me, I still have hope that you’ll fall in love. How pathetic.

Connor shakes his head hurriedly, feet thinking for him as he steps towards Oliver until there’s barely any space between them.

“You’re not pathetic.” Connor promises quietly

Oliver smiles but his eyes remain lost and uneasy as they look at the ground between them,

“I am; I always have been. I’ve… Connor I’ve loved you practically since we first met and you…you’re perfect and you’ve always been there for me and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship but that’s exactly what I’m doing and I’m really sorry but I just…I can’t take this anymore I can’t I-“

The tears that must have been building for the past half hour finally fall from Oliver’s eyes, one after the other until Oliver’s breathing sounds more like continuing, wrecked gasps and his whole body is trembling.

It’s a split second decision that Connor makes without any thought of why this is the most inappropriate moment to do this but he takes Oliver into his arms and hugs him tight. He feels Oliver’s sharp intake of breath against his neck, most likely stunned that Connor is hugging him because they’ve never hugged, the reason for that being that Connor never hugs anyone.

But then again, Connor’s never felt what he feels for Oliver, for anyone else.

He’s never felt that sickening, consuming, agonising pain like he’s going to throw up and never stop when he saw someone else in physical or emotional pain like he just experienced with Oliver a few minutes ago.

He’s never wanted to stroke someone’s hair back from their face and watch as they smile softly back at you with wide loving eyes after sex like he did with Oliver just the night before.

He never felt like he could trust or care for someone as completely as he does with Oliver.

He just never accepted it until now.

Rubbing Oliver’s back in circles gently, Connor waits a few minutes for his sobs to subside and until he himself gains total control and fights back his own tears before he says all the words he never could into Oliver’s ear,

“Ollie, you’re not pathetic. You’re not you’re…you’re kind and good. You’re fucking gorgeous. You’re my best friend. So I thought it was normal liking you, being willing to die for you and by that I mean the amount of times I studied for a test because you told me to. I just…I pretended that the only reason why I wanted to sleep with you was because you were hot and we were friends so surely that would make it better but…but that wasn’t the only reason.”

Oliver sniffs into his shoulder and Connor hears him faintly say, “You don’t have to lie to me.”

Now it’s Connor who laughs sarcastically, “I’m not lying. Oliver I…I tried not to like you, I tried not to love you. Before, it was easier because I just had sex with other people and tried to forget you but even then something wasn’t right. I kept thinking their eyes weren’t beautiful like your brown ones or stupid things like that and then…then when we started this…this thing, I thought my feelings would stop because I assumed they were just because you’re attractive but Ollie they just got worse and worse and I tried to-to fight them but I-I couldn’t….” Connor shuts his eyes as a single tear betrays him and falls down his cheek, “I couldn’t stop myself from loving you and I…I’m sorry it took so long for me to say it.”

A minute of silence passes…and then another and another until Connor’s heart is beating so hard in his chest that it’s physically painful but he knows he has to wait for Oliver to speak, for him to adjust to what his best friend just said.

Finally Oliver pulls back, his eyes are rimmed with a light, disturbing shade of red that makes Connor’s blood run cold but there’s a sparkle of hope in Oliver’s eyes that Connor feels like he hasn’t seen in such a long time.

“Did you mean all of that?”

Connor nods.

“You…you love me?”

Connor’s lips turn up into a genuine soft smile and he nods again.

Oliver swallows hard, his eyes flickering across all of Connor’s features before daring to ask,

“What about your strict ‘no boyfriends’ rule?”

Connor blinks and his mind races with a million possible answers to this question but none of them stick out as any good, none of them feel right anymore so instead Connor leans forward and kisses Oliver gently on the lips.

It’s a chaste kiss, one they’ve only shared a handful of times and only when they were half asleep and drained from their previous activities.

Connor lets his lips linger over Oliver’s for a second longer than necessary before pulling back and lifting a finger to stroke Oliver’s cheek until he opens his eyes and meets Connor’s again.

“I meant what I said, I don’t want a boyfriend. I don’t want faceless boyfriends who don’t know me and who don’t care about me, the type of guys who usually ask me to be their boyfriend. I don’t want them, I never have. But I…I always wanted you, in whatever way you wanted me. You do know me…I’m lucky enough to have you care about me and want me so…so yeah…if you want to be my boyfriend then…then alright, let’s go for it.”

“You mean that?” Oliver asks; his voice already lighter and a ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

Connor nods, grinning as he leans in to kiss Oliver again, not so chastely this time.

“Yes, yes I mean it.”

Oliver finally grins wide enough to display his adorable, prominent dimples but Connor doesn’t get time to fully appreciate them before Oliver captures his lips in a soaring kiss and wraps his hand around Connor’s waist to pull him closer.

Needless to say, Connor isn’t complaining.

anonymous asked:

Zelda ask Link about first kiss he has had one shes never had one shes troubled


It happened while they crossed Castle Town on their way to Hyrule Field. In the midst of her people bowing and greeting her, something caught her eye — a couple, around the same age as Link and herself. The bashful smiles they wore spoke volumes of their adoration and love for each other. Zelda was entranced, and didn’t stop watching even when the boy leaned down to kiss the girl fully on her mouth. Zelda’s pleasant expression faltered as she saw, wonder rising up in its place. Link noticed, as always.

“Princess.” He urged with no real force.

“Y-yes, sorry. Let’s be off, then.” She turned to give a smile to her knight, but before she walked away she took one last glance to the couple, eyes shining with curiosity.

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anonymous asked:

Hello wonderful, could I get 2d comforting his s/o? Not like after a panic attack or a break down. Just like the soft crying and feeling horrible. Like Something happened that ruined their day or just made them sad and done for the rest of the day.

A/N: yes of course, my dear. if you’re feeling down, message me and i’ll try my best to cheer you up with shitty deep fried memes and aggressive advice given to me from college text books.

2D taps his knuckles on the familiar hard wood in front of him, stepping back as he waits for his response. He looks down at his new shoes, turning his heel a bit as he examines them. He secretly hopes you would take the time to notice that he’d put on the pair you got for him during your afternoon together today. The  brief thought of you fabricates more and he spends a few minutes staring down at his shoes while thinking of you, almost completely forgetting that the door hadn’t been opened yet. With a quick shake of his head, he looks up and knocks again, this time quieter hoping not to disturb you if you were still getting ready.

A few more minutes pass and he thinks to knock again, but his hand freezes when he hears the door unlock. He sees your hand appear from behind it as it opens slowly.You don’t meet his eyes as you step out, locking the door behind you. When you turn around to face him, he notices your eyes blinking rapidly but before he can question it you greet him, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says as his hand finds yours, “Everything alrigh-”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. You ready to go?” you say quickly. 

He stares down at you for a moment, your eyes are focused in front of you and your hands twitch in his. You don’t say anything though you feel his eyes boring into the side of your head.

“Okay…” his voice is wary but the two of you continue on anyway.

The first few minutes of your date is spent wandering aimlessly through the park. 2D wasn’t sure where to take you as he had planned originally to go to the planetarium, but given your low spirits, he began to consider taking you somewhere else instead. He brought up a few options listen with the planetarium being his original one, but you shot them down and agreed to go to the planetarium. 

Your silence had made him a bit uncomfortable as you walked alongside him through various exhibits. He’d panicked when he lost you a few times, only to find you in the same spot he’d left you before, staring down at the descriptions of every model. When he asked if something was wrong, you dismissed him kindly or changed the subject completely, the strain in your voice only concerning him more. Afraid he might irritate you, he stopped asking and the two of you concluded the day sat in a large auditorium as you looked up at the projections above you. 2D allowed himself to be memorized by the show, opened mouthed and wide eyed like the children around him. He turned his head as he watched a comet pass over him, disappearing completely into the darkness. His eyes traveled down next to him and his smile faded upon your appearance. You stared off into nothing in front of you, your eyes completely dull and heavy lidded.

When the show finished, 2D gave into your unchanging indifference and settled on ending the date early. 

The two of you walk closer to your door, any conversation nonexistent. Once you reach your home, your hand detaches from his as you retrieve your key in your bag. Neither of you say anything as he watches you open your door. You turn around to say goodbye, hugging him very briefly. You close the door behind you, looking down when you notice the tip of his shoe caught in the door frame. It was then that you’d finally noticed he was wearing the shoes you bought him.

Your eyes hesitantly meet his as he pulls the door open again, “I’m not going until you tell me what’s wrong.”

You look down as you lean on the door frame, hiding most of your face behind it, “Nothings wrong…”


You close your eyes and rest your cheek on the door frame, your shoulder and arm being the only thing visible to him as he waits. When he notices your shoulders shaking, he steps inside, turning on the light next to him as he approaches you. He brings his hand on your back and you retreat into his chest, arms wrapping around his thin form as you bury your face into his shirt. He feels the material dampen against his skin, and his arms quickly hold your form against his as he realizes what’s happening. A large hand slowly rubs uneven circles on your upper back, the other holding the back of your head carefully; occasionally caressing your hair.

Not sure how else to comfort you, he waits until your quiet sobbing subsides, holding you against him until your tear stained face peeks up from his chest. His heart breaks upon seeing your face contorted with sadness. He brings his hand up slowly, his thumb wipes away the wetness under your eyes as he gazes into them sympathetically. You close your eyes when he pressed his lips to yours tenderly. His breath is hot against your lips as he asks, “Tell me,” his voice shaking a bit.

You end up explaining your reasoning to your grief to him in your bed. He lays across from you as you face him, his hand occasionally reaching up to your face as he wipes away any tears that dare to fall from your eyes. The gesture is sweet and assuring, but he does it mainly because he can’t stand to see you that way. Once you finish, he advises you in the best way he can, choosing his words carefully as you were a bit sensitive from your explanation. He holds you for a while, resting his head atop yours as his hand runs through your hair comfortingly.

When you tell him that you’re feeling better, he offers to further brighten your mood with some good old fashioned comfort food and a movie on the couch, to which you happily oblige.

why do i find this extremely difficult to type? i dunno

anonymous asked:

Can you do a scenario of class 1A getting a new smol student and Todoroki & Bakugou fall for her? You can choose how it ends and whatnot !!

I saw that you used female pronouns so I just went with that I hope that’s okay!this was a lot of fun to write too and I accidentally made it longer than intended;)

I also don’t remember seating arrangements and I don’t have the ability to look it up right now so here Bakugou and Todoroki sit by each other lol

“Alright class. Settle down.” Everyone silenced and turned towards the front after hearing their teacher’s command. Aizawa waited until the last of the whispers subsided before turning towards the door and motioning for someone to come inside. “I’d like you to meet your new classmate. This is (f/n). Please don’t be assholes.” He looked directly at Bakugou as he said it.

The blonde scowled and opened his mouth to say something when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He, along with the rest of the class, turned towards the door to see enter. She walked to the center of the room, stopping next to Aizawa before turning to the rest of the class, wide smile on her face. She bowed her head slightly as she spoke, “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you.”

“Take the empty seat in the back between the angry blonde and the dude with the weird colored hair.”

She did what Aizawa said, walking down the row and sitting down in her designated seat. She tried to turn to Bakugou to introduce herself in the hopes of making friends but he just looked away without acknowledging her introduction.

“Don’t mind him. He’s always like that,” Todoroki explained from her other side after seeing her sigh dejectedly.

“Fuck off, Halfie,” the blonde growled, not taking his eyes off the board as Aizawa started the lesson.

“See it’s nothing personal.”

(F/n) just blinked, laughing slightly to herself before turning her attention to the lesson. Unfortunately for her, she couldn’t really see the board too well due to the fact that she was short and sitting in the back of the room. She sighed again, resigning to not being able to see what Aizawa was writing down. Instead, trying to listen to what he was saying and transcribe what she felt was important but she knew she was missing a lot of information. She’d have to see if she could borrow someone’s notes before their next exam.

The next day, (f/n) was sitting at her desk when she saw Todoroki walk in, having learned the names of all of her classmates thanks to Iida being a diligent class representative. She smiled and waved slightly, seeing him nod in response before sitting down and shuffling through his bag. She turned to face the front but soon felt something poke her arm, turning back to the side to see Todoroki handing her some pieces of paper.

“Here,” he said with no explanation. She took them with a confused look on her face.

“What are these for?”

“I noticed that you couldn’t see too well so I made a copy of my notes for you.” She could see a light dusting of pink form on his cheeks.

“That’s really sweet of you! Thank you Todoroki!” she said with a bright smile. She jumped slightly as she heard something being slammed on her desk.

Turning, she saw Bakugou sit, well more like collapse, in the seat next to her. She looked down and saw pieces of paper on her desk with similar writing to that of the papers she was already holding. She grabbed them and turned to say something.

“Are these the notes from yesterday?”

“What else would they fucking be,” he barked, not bothering to face her.

“But why?”

“You’re too damn short to see shit back here.”

(F/n) chuckled slightly, holding the papers back out to him. “Thanks but Todoroki already made me a copy of his.”

Bakugou’s head turned so quickly that you could hear it crack. “The fucking bastard did what?!”

“I was just doing what Aizawa-sensei said and not be an asshole,” Todoroki spoke up.

“Fuck you! Also she’s better off having my damn notes considering I’m the number one in this shitty excuse for a class.” He turned back to face the front.

(F/n) sat there frozen for a few minutes before hesitantly putting both sets of notes in her bag, confused as to what just happened.

Her confusion didn’t dissipate as the week went by. Every day, both Todoroki and Bakugou would give her notes of the previous lectures and every day they would quip about it.

Their “kindness” didn’t stop there though. A week later, (f/n) was running late to class due to her alarm not going off on time so she wasn’t able to pack a lunch and she also forgot her money so she couldn’t buy anything at the cafeteria. Apparently Todoroki saw that she wasn’t eating anything and bought her an entree. She was shocked, flustered, and very thankful for his kindness.

The next day, she walked into class and saw a homemade lunch sitting on her desk.

Every day after that, she found two sitting there.

They didn’t have notes but she knew who they were from and her confusion grew. She didn’t know what to do or how to interpret the situation, so she just decided to let things be. She didn’t mind the extra attention, especially from two of the hottest guys in class.

Things escalated quickly after the lunch thing, too. They both offered to tutor her after they found out she failed the exam, both arguing over who would be better at it (read Bakugou argued while Todoroki stayed collected).

They would also fight over who she would spar with, both claiming because she had a powerful and rare quirk and they, mainly Bakugou, wanted the challenge of fighting someone with a teleportation quirk.

It even got to the point where they would compete at walking her between classes. Well, she wouldn’t really call it that, more like who could walk beside her while remaining completely silent.

At first she found this little competition endearing but it soon became awkward and slightly annoying really quickly. She had to put an end to it.

She was waiting on the roof after school, mentally congratulating herself on the “clever” (not really) plan. She wrote Bakugou and Todoroki individual letters, saying that she wanted to talk to them on the roof and slipped them in their lockers before they could leave for the day.

Bakugou was the first to show up, slamming the door open and walking to where (f/n) was waiting.

“The fuck did you want?” he snapped, jammin. His hands in his pockets.

“Not yet,” she replied. Before Bakugou could say anything else, the door opened again and Todoroki walked through it. Bakugou turned and a deep scowl appeared on his face.

“Fuck this.” He started walking to the exit, knocking shoulders roughly with Todoroki as he passed. (F/n) sighed and teleported in front of the door, stopping Bakugou in his tracks. He took a hand out of his pocket and set off a few explosions in what was supposed to be an intimidating display. “Out of my way, pipsqueak.”

“Not until you both stop with this stupid competition over me.” She watched as both Bakugou and Todoroki blushed, apparently not having expected her to have caught on to what they’ve been doing. They all stayed silent for a few moments before Todoroki stepped forward.

“(F/n), would you like to go out with me?”

“WHAT?! No fuck that! Go out with me!” Bakugou demanded, stepping forward between Todoroki and (f/n).


Both males looked at her confused. “Okay to who?” Todoroki asked.

“To both of you. I mean,” she scratched the back of her head sheepishly, seemingly lost some of the confidence she had a moment ago, “if that’s okaybwuth you guy. I seem to have fallen for you both. You’re both strong and kind-” Todoroki raised an eyebrow and glanced at Bakugou, earning a quiet ‘fuck you’ from the blonde “-in your own ways and well, I can’t really choose between two great guys.”

Todoroki and Bakugou wore matching blushes on their cheeks now, not really knowing how to reply right away. (F/n) laughed slightly due to the awkward air.

“You don’t have to answer right away.” She turned around and reached for the door handle before a voice stopped her.

“Sure.” She turned and saw Todoroki shifting on his feet. “I’m willing to try it if Bakugou is.”

“If he’s in then I’m in,” came Bakugou’s reply.

(F/n) smiled widely, not expecting it to go this well. She walked between them, giving them both pecks in the cheek. “Come over this weekend and we can figure a few more things out,” she said with a wink, teleporting away, leaving them both on the roof, shocked.

“Wait,” Todoroki said to Bakugou, “does this mean we’re also dating?”

Bakugou shrugged before walking towards the exit. “We’ll figure it out later. I’m too tired to deal with this shit right now.”


Three Times

Takes place in Season 4, after Cosima learns Delphine might be alive.  Cosima and Sarah sit around talking.

At AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11988852 

They sat in Cosima’s bed with their backs against the headboard, sharing a joint in silence while the lab machinery blinked away.  

“You know,” Cosima said, “I only told her I loved her three times.  In our whole weird, convoluted relationship.  Three times.”

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Henry and the Ink Machine Part 5

This will be the first part of Chapter 4 on the AO3 page, but I I haven’t quite finished it yet. It is a work in progress, so apologies for any mistakes!

Inspired by @thelostmoongazer‘s sketches here and here, and @the-vampire-inside-me’s, here.

Quick Summary: Bendy, having been living in the human world for the past 30 years, received a note from his creator, and is lured back to his once home. But what will he find there? And will he ever leave again?

First Part  Previous Part  Next Part

Keep reading

Title: Good Enough

Warnings: None

Request: Could I request a charlie mcavoy one where he’s all sad abt being eliminated so he just breaks down and cries when he watches highlights from that match and u tell him it’ll be OK but he still had doubts because he doesn’t know if he’s good enough for the nhl.. I need angst lol!! Thank you😊😊

Note: Let me know what you think!

Links: My Master List  and My Current Requests

When you looked into the living room, you saw Charlie looking disgruntled on the sofa. You sighed, realizing he was watching highlights from the game. Your eyes fell back down to your book, waiting for Charlie to get tired enough to come to bed with you. Hearing the TV click off, you stood up, noticing Charlie was no longer in the living room.

Your heart broke when you looked through the glass door out to the balcony, Charlie’s shuddering frame in clear view, illuminated against the night sky by the light left on in the living room. Earlier, he had asked to be alone and you wanted to respect his wishes, but fuck. Walking quickly outside you moved to sit beside him on the loveseat, wrapping your arms around him. He turned to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, tears continuing to fall. One hand immediately tangled in his hair, the other traced reassuring lines up and down his back.

In all your time knowing Charlie, you had never seen this side of him, and to be honest, it scared you. “Charlie, what’s wrong?” you whispered into his hair, breathing in the scent of his shampoo. He shook his head, unable to speak. Lost as to what you could do for him, you did they only thing you could, you held him.

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A Little Mistake Messenger

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8  Ch. 9 Ch. 10 Ch. 11

In all seriousness I love Zen and I also love Jumin. I tried my best. I apologize for grammatical errors or this totally not making any sense. This is my first time writing this sort of thing and publishing it. I am in no means as amazing as some of the other writers out there, but i honestly tried my best to contribute to the fandom. Positive constructive criticism is welcome! Keep it positive 

Rating: M (mild swearing and future smut)

Tags: Angst, mystic messenger, Jumin Han x MC, Zen x MC, 

Summary: MC has exciting news to tell Zen and the other RFA members. That is until the MC gets a shock from Zen. MC finds comfort in a close friend, Jumin Han. 

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Crying Soulmate!AU - Ashton 5SOS

Throughout your life, you had been labelled as a fairly emotional child. Grants, this wasn’t entirely your fault. Everyone knew that when your soulmate got hurt you cried, but this applied to emotional pain as well as physical. There was always a way to distinguish physical pain from emotional pain. Emotional pain always gave you a weird tingly feelings at the tip of your nose. Physical pain always tingled exactly where they were hurting. Your low pain tolerance probably contributed to your already frequent crying. But it also hurt just as badly knowing that for some reason unknown to you, your soulmate often felt pain a few times a day, usually emotional. 

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Severed Crossed Fingers, pt. 23 (Epilogue)

Rock Band AU. Cosima is one of indie music’s newest darlings. After a chance encounter with drummer Delphine Cormier before a show, she is asked to be the opening act on tour for an internationally acclaimed rock band. Ultimately, she ends up getting a lot more than she bargained for. Cophine.

Read on Ao3 and Fanfiction.net

(Major thanks to satousei13 for the awesome fic cover!)

AN: Well, this is it folks. I just want to say how sincerely thankful I am to all who have read and commented on this story. Since I began, I’ve made some really awesome friends in clone club, and feel super grateful for this neat little experience. My heart is so full.

Thank you all!

28-years-old. Over ten years of career experience. Seven major festival dates successfully performed. And still, Cosima Niehaus finds herself on the bathroom floor, spewing like an amateur.

Her head is in a toilet this time, at least, as opposed to the trashcan. She can consider that some small victory.

The hurling passes much quicker than it had years ago. After a few good heaves, she sits up and takes a deep, greedy breath.

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