with the face and the hand and the rings the rings

Viktor’s already overlarge heart grows ten sizes when they get back to Japan after Barcelona. Yuuri thought that maybe, maybe he would return from Barcelona with a gold medal. What he does have is something gold and round, just not in the expected form.

“Would you like to see my medal?” Yuuri asks his parents, shyly, and they enthusiastically agree. They sit down in the dining room where the light is best, and Yuuri puts the medal in the middle of the table to let his family ooh and ahh. Hiroko traces the words Grand Prix of Figure Skating Final Men’s. 

“Mama, Papa,” Yuuri says after awhile, and grips Viktor’s hand hard under the table. “I–we have something else to tell you.”

Hiroko and Toshiya turn their kind faces towards their son, open and welcoming.

“Viktor and I…have decided to get married.” Yuuri’s hand tightens almost painfully. Viktor soothes his thumb over his knuckles and feels the affection and adoration pool in his heart. “And also we’re…we’re going to move to Russia.”

“For a few years,” Viktor adds quickly..“For a few years, but we’ll visit, and once we both retire…” He imagines returning to this place, coming back to these people and their unspoken support and affection that swirls like a warm breeze. Bringing back to them their son, older and wiser and accomplished, a champion. His husband. He clears his throat. “I’m getting ahead of myself, but it’s–not permanent, you see?”

“Would you like to see my engagement ring?” Yuuri asks, perhaps just to soften the blow, and Hiroko nods happily, holding out small and work-marked hands.

Viktor watches the way Yuuri reveals his ring; slowly, blushingly, like it’s a secret he is sharing. The feeling of his own engagement ring is present, happily unfamiliar.

“The right hand?” Hiroko muses happily, as she examines Yuuri’s hand.

“In my country, we wear them on the right hand,” Viktor says softly. “It’s, um…important to me.”

“May I?” asks Toshiya, who’s noticed that Viktor wears a ring as well. Viktor holds his hand out and Toshiya stares at it for a moment, considering, then pats his hand. 

“Since Yuuri was born, we’ve only wanted for him what would make him happiest,” Toshiya says after a moment, the emotion thick in his voice. It’s the first such outward display of emotion Viktor has seen from him. The elder Katsukis go about their lives in a sort of genial cloud, despite raising an incredibly emotional son. Viktor suspects it’s because they made a point never to judge him for the emotions they, themselves, may have been taught to keep inside. “Both of our children, we’ve told them to follow their dreams. To seek out their best lives. When you came to him, to us, it was as though…you were delivering his happiness to him. He’s grown so much with you. There is no one I would rather him marry, and no one I would rather accept as my son. And if it is important to my sons, for them to go to Russia, I would carry you there myself if I had to.”

Yuuri cries, as Yuuri does. He cries until they crawl into bed that night and Viktor holds him so close he can feel his heartbeat.

“I’m just so happy,” Yuuri whispers into his shoulder. “I never thought I would be this happy, Vitya.”

Viktor kisses his head and whispers, “Me too.”

Viktor doesn’t think he knew was happy truly was until these people defined it for him. If that’s so, he’s glad his heart waited. 

Both of You

No pun intended but I really feel like I gave birth to this one, lol. Anyhow, this is a bit different than what I usually do. I think best friend Harry is very underrated. Enjoy, and I’d love if you would let me know what you thought. I worked super hard on this one! x

Originally posted by pinkharold


You pad your way across the wood floors of your home, shuffling into the kitchen and towards the far right of the room. After a long, long day of meetings at work you’re more than happy to finally be home. You had hoped that a long, hot shower would be the cure all for the tension coursing through every muscle in your body, but apparently not. You bite your bottom lip as you reach the refrigerator and pull on the handle, the light from within illuminating your otherwise dark kitchen. Hoping to find a well past midnight snack, you squint into the fridge and bend down as far as you can to peer into it. The contents inside the fridge isn’t sparse in the slightest, but as your tired eyes look through it, nothing seems appetizing. While you’re debating between the  plethora of flavors of fruit smoothies Harry had stocked your fridge with, you let out a sudden gasp. Your hand on the fridge curls tightly around the cold metal, while the other one flies on instinct to the middle of your tummy. Your brows furrow together as you stare down in shock at your ever growing stomach. The feeling was one you haven’t felt before through the course of your pregnancy and it makes you pause for a second. You’re so exhausted, you aren’t sure if it was painful or if the baby had just kicked. 

 “S’going on down there, little one?” You whisper softly, pushing the fabric of the long sleeved, oversized shirt you’re wearing up to snake your hand onto your bare skin. You rub it in soothing circles, and then the three rather annoying beeps of the refrigerator steal your attention. You shut the door of the fridge and settle for grabbing the near empty pack of Chips Ahoy cookies from the counter before making your way up the stairs and to your room.

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{PART 25} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Jungkook dreams of having the future with you that he always envied human’s of having. But as soon as he arrives home, his entire world - and everything in it gets turned upside down. He must make a choice in the face of evil; while evil holds you in its grasp.

“And he found strength in the only thing that he was powerless to; it had always, from the very beginning; been her.”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time) 

{Part 1} //{Part 24} {Part 25} {Part 26}

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sad boy + justin foley

plot : after his mum’s new boyfriend kicks him out, Justin only has one thing to do

word count : 1403

notes : for two people who wanted Justin Foley but I forgot their accounts so I’m sorry for not tagging

+++

Running out of his house, bag slung over his shoulder, Justin wiped his wet eyes on the sleeve of his varsity jacket, only for the tears to be replaced with new ones. He didn’t stop until he couldn’t run anymore, legs aching, throat burning. He had no idea where he was, he couldn’t tell with his blurry vision. It was almost nightfall, not a person In sight. He fell to his knees, bag dropping with a loud thump, as a quiet sob passed his lips.

There was one thing Justin could think of doing. One person he wanted to talk to now, he needed to talk to right now. He reached into his pocket, hands trembling as he did so, retrieving his phone. He somehow found your contact, a picture of your beaming face on his screen, the image alone calming him down the tiniest bit. He shakily pressed the dial button, holding his breath while waiting for you to pick up. Begging you to answer.

One ring. Two ring.

More tears gathered in his eyes.

Three ring.

You were probably busy. You didn’t need him as a burden.

Four ring.

More and more tears fell as another sob racked his body.

“Hey”

The world stopped. Justin’s voice was caught in his throat, no words forming.

“Justin? You there?”

He couldn’t help the cry he let out of his mouth.

“Justin?! Are you okay?”

The sound of your panicked voice, filled Justin’s heart. You cared, you were the only one who cared.

“Y-Y/N”

It was only a whisper, something you shouldn’t have caught but you did.

“Justin? What happened? What’s wrong? What did they do?”

“I- I can’t. I-”

The words wouldn’t come out, as much as Justin tried.

“Where are you? I’m coming to pick you up” you stated.

Justin heard the jingling of keys through the phone.

“I- I don’t know. There’s houses and- and a-” he stuttered, trying to speak through the suffocation he was feeling.

“Justin. Stop. Breathe in. Breathe out. Now tell me, can you see a street sign anywhere?”

He did as you instructed, following your smooth, familiar voice.

“Risely Avenue” he said after a while.

“Stay where you are, I’m coming. And Justin?”

He blinked back more tears as he listened to you talk.

“Yeah?”

“Everything will be okay”

It was a mere 10 minutes before your familiar car drove up the street, headlights illuminating the otherwise dark road. Justin looked at the ground as he stood, ashamed to look at you in his current state. He heard the click of the car door opening, followed the by the clicking of your shoes on the gravel road. He managed to look up, eyes meeting with your warm ones. You stood right in front of him, inches away. You held your arms out and in less than a second, Justin fell into your arms.

“Hey”

He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat.

“Hey” he replied, his voice a tiny squeak.

You pulled away, much to Justin’s dismay. You picked up his bag from the floor and he didn’t have the energy to protest, taking his hand in yours, you walked back to your car, settling them in. And then you drove.

“Y/N”

You turned to look at your boyfriend of more than a year for a second before fixing your eyes back on the road.

“I- uhm I-”

“You don’t have to explain Justin. Not now anyway”

You pressed your lips together, gently placing a hand on his knee while keeping the other on the steering wheel. He flinched at the sudden contact, but your hand stayed where it was.

“I’m sorry, I just I-”

He immediately started to apologise, even though you thought nothing of it and completely understood.

“Sh, Justin. Just relax, you’re with me now” you assured, running a thumb across his jean clad knee.

He nodded, swallowing thickly, shutting his eyes and focusing on your soft touch. You flicked your eyes to him, watching his long eyelashes fall on his cheekbones. His eyes were red and puffy from crying, dried tears on his cheeks.

Soon enough, you reached your house, parking the car in the driveway. Justin opened his eyes, blinking a few times. You silently hopped out, grabbing his bag from the backseat before opening the passenger door.

“You don’t have to do all this” Justin mumbled.

“Come on” you urged, ignoring his statement.

The two of you walked into your house, the warmth engulfing you both. You took his hand in yours, leading him to the spare bedroom.

“Have you eaten yet?” you questioned.

Justin shook his head, like you expected.

“Well, you know where the showers are, I’m going to heat up dinner okay?”

He nodded, looking at the floor. You could tell he was on the verge of another round of tears. You frowned, walking up to him and wearing your arms around his neck, placing a kiss on his cheek. You felt him smile, even if it was a small one.

You stepped away, smiling at him softly, before leaving the room. You walked to your kitchen, getting the leftovers from Robert out to heat them up. Nobody should be treated how Justin is. Justin didn’t call you about this, usually going to Bryce’s house or Alex’s but not yours. He never wanted to bother you with his problems, thinking he would be a burden to you. It took Justin almost a year before he even told you about his condition at home and that was only after Zach accidentally mentioned it.

You took the food out of the microwave, placing it on the dinner table while waiting for him to arrive. Your parents were big business people, meaning they were out of town a lot of the time, so they bought you your own little house to stay in which they occasionally visited.

Ten minutes later, the sound of water running stopped, meaning Justin was out of the shower. Another ten minutes later, Justin padded into the dining room, where you were waiting for him. His hair was dripping wet, droplets trailing down the back of his neck. His eyes were redder, even puffier while his bottom lip quivered. What you noticed now was the significant bruises that had formed around his neck and the sight of all of this made you shatter a little on the inside. He tugged at his sleeves, still looking at the floor. He had changed into a pair of sweats and a t shirt.

You went to him, pressing a slight kiss on his shaking lips. You gripped his jaw with a feather-like touch, tilting it upwards to expose the purple and blue skin of his neck. You gingerly touched the large bruises that were vaguely in the shape of fingerprints. He gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing under your thumb. You sighed and pulled away.

“Sit, Justin”

He listened to your words, taking a seat next to you. He picked up his fork, staring at his food with no intention of eating it.

“I’m not that hungry right now Y/N, I’m sorry for making you go to all this trouble-”

“It’s fine Justin, I understand. Want to go to bed?” you offered.

He nodded, standing up from the table with you following suit. You put his plate back in the fridge before taking his hand and walking back to bed. You got in first, opening your arms and inviting him to lay with you. He complied immediately, putting his head on your shoulder, intertwining your legs.

“You have to report them Justin. Those bruises… they look bad. It’s the worse it’s gotten so far” you gulped, your own heart becoming heavy with the thought.

“I can’t Y/N, I’ll be shipped off to some foster home with people I don’t even know and I might even have to move away. I’m not risking that”

You nodded, it was a hard decision for anyone.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine”

As the words left his mouth, you felt wetness on your shoulder.

“Oh Justin, you don’t need to act strong now. It’s okay to be human” you whispered into his ear.

And those were all it took before he broke down for the third time that evening. His body shook violently as you held him tight.

“It’ll all be okay Justin. I promise”

And in that moment, Justin realised that the only real place he felt safe was with you.

the freckle in the corner of dans eye and the one on phils collarbone is actually what keeps the clouds floating but thts just me

You Deserve Punishment (M)

Description: You never wanted to see them again, you couldn’t bare facing them in the eyes. Not after what you witnessed. It would forever haunt you. Why? Because you discovered their dirty little secret; Park Jimin was the lover of Min Yoonji, who was actually a man.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader x Yoongi

Genre: Smut (M), angst, university!au

Word Count: 6,350

A/N: Extreme vulgar language use. Name calling, and heavy dom/sub undertones. There is also a lot of yaoi (boyxboy) action. Graphic descriptions of sex (oral, etc…) This is a mature read! You have been warned!

Originally posted by bellahasjams

Never in a million years, would you have expected to walk into a full 500 student lecture, only to easily spot the two people you never wanted to see again. There was a big lump held in your throat, as you quickly ducked your head down to find an empty seat. Unfortunately for you, the only empty seat you found was exactly a row behind these certain individuals. Trying to sit down as quietly as possible, you mentally screamed, You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Since when did they come here?!? How could I not have known?!?

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Hey there everyone! WHOO! Finally got a reprieve, as I’m done with my drawings for my final project, now I have to continue typing the written parts.

Done largely in part because I love the lore, practice drawing human characters, and to pass the time whenever I need a breather from from college.

While researching for the lore of Dark Souls for my In-progress AU Comic, I noticed how LARGE the mythology of Dark Souls and the deities that reside, along with the fan speculation of which god corresponds with whom and etc. In spite of all this, from what I can tell, outside of Gwyn’s family, there has never been a, for lack of a better term, “compendium piece” of the gods and goddesses of dark souls, so I made my own :D

Because some gods are not represented in imagery, I decided to design how they might look if they ever showed up amongst mortals. I owe a lot to Tumblr, Reddit and the DS fandom as a whole, the amount of theory and lore discussions are always gold, and of course, the lore-lords like @vaatividya and @silver-mont, their vids are always interesting to watch :)

From the Top Row: The Bearers of the Lord Souls

Gravelord Nito: No need for an explanation here xD

Gwyn, Lord of Sunlight: Drawing him was easy, but here I wanted portray a very stern, no-nonsense god king who really, REALLY is someone you don’t want to piss off, and someone who is almost NEVER happy and/or satisfied.

The Witch of Izalith: I’m honestly surprised there’s not much fanart of how her face might look like, so I pitched in. She basically resembles her daughters, but with a more matriarchal vibe, with a stronger jawline and sharper eyes to reflect that. She’s also very tall, towering over Gwyn and just slightly edging out NK in height.

The Furtive Pygmies, featuring Manus and a Pygmy Lord: With the Ringed City revealing that there were SEVERAL pygmies, I had quite some fun with the speculation and possibilities of how the Pygmies as a whole looked like.

Personally? I simply interpret them as humans but more, with more power over the dark soul, but otherwise having different roles in society like regular folk, the Ringed Knights are Warriors, the Lords are the rulers, etc.

I put Manus amongst them, why? Because no way should ONE man be able to have THAT much abyss power just because he’s a human. Since the dark soul is divided amongst humans, I interpret him having a huge chunk of the Dark Soul (as per these two threads), and thus was simply a mighty sorceror who happened to be really, REALLY old, even by Pygmy standards. Plus I always wondered… How does one torture a dead man? The Mad King was described as undying, so according to my own logic, he wasn’t totally “dead” when he was buried. His grave could signify him wanting a modicum of peace, after all, his entire race was basically put in a glorified prison by Gwyn… Sensing the growing madness within him (probably due to sheer isolation), he probably decided to “die” on his own terms in Oolacile… then future idiots proceeded to listen to TOTALLY NOT SUSPICIOUS AT ALL SERPENT and dug up his grave.

The random Pygmy Lord is basically representing one of the first Pygmy Lords.


Second Row: The Children of the Gods

The Nameless King, Firstborn of Gwyn, God of War: In a short period of time, has become my favorite character amongst the gods… There’s so much of a story to tell from him, his relationship with his family, the reasons as to WHY he betrayed the dragons, and thanks to lore threads a-plenty, I interpret him as one of the most honorable and dedicated of the gods. He watches over his warriors of sunlight even if they ARE humans (whom Gwyn HATES) AND he protects Dragons. Despite meI head-canoning him bigger than Gwyn and is in general a wall of muscle and armor, he’s STILL shorter than his sisters.

Gwynevere, Goddess of Fertility: Gwynevere here I interpret as one of the nicer gods, so I made her expression to reflect such. Because Gwyndolin’s illusion of her may be simply him projecting what he remembers most of her and thus potentially exaggerating certain aspects, I toned down a lot the “Aphrodite-esque” glamor, in favor of a more personable look, though still decked out.

Filianore: The daughter we know even less of than Gwynevere, but thanks to a certain reddit thread that discussed how dedicated NK was to her via the floral carvings that is present in Archdragon peak… She must have been someone who NK was VERY close with, so I interpret her as the “Always trying to bring life to the family” kind of sister, though closest to her eldest brother.

Gwyndolin: The Dark Sun himself. Not much else to say here, I just wanted to draw him happy for once… Because WHY FROM? He really, really needs it.


The Daughters of Chaos

Quelana, Mother of Pyromancy: Due to her own title, I interpret her as the Studious Daughter, incredibly dedicated to her craft and always finding out ways to further her pyromancy… Until the Chaos Flame incident happened of course… Then she became wracked with survivor’s guilt…

I also interpret her as being the responsible one looking out to make sure her sisters don’t do anything too brash… Though in hindsight, that would make her suvivor’s guilt worse.

Quelaag: The most well known Chaos Daughter, and whom I interpret as The Aggressive Daughter, hence why she’s the only one of the sisters with a melee weapon. As the most in-your-face daughter I head-canon that she is the one who lowers down her hood the most, especially when she feels like challenging someone. Also VERY protective of her family.

Quelaan, The Fair Lady: Last but not least, I interpret Quelaan as always having been the shyest and nicest of the daughters. Her hood is more drooped down compared to Quelana, to highlight her shyness.

Fun fact, while trying to find her real name, turns out the name Quelaan was the name the community gave to her, and just became established fanon, so I just opted to name her just that.


Third Row: Other Members of the Larger Pantheon

All-Father Lloyd: Gwyn’s uncle, founder of the Way of White. Now there IS speculation that he’s not real, but here I interpret as the real deal, and thus looks like a wimpier, older version of Gwyn, yet still has an aura of authority. I used a bit of Paladin Leeroy for his crown, because I interpret that, when he REALLY needs to get his hands dirty, he too wields a mace, setting an example to all paladin-esque worshipers after him.

His clothes are tattered despite being the godly equivalent of a pontiff, to highlight two things:

One, despite him being a “lord”, his tattered look is to signify he is not “above” the rabble/his followers.

Two, I head-canon him becoming slowly more insane and full of hate toward the undead,as more and more of his family and friends either dies off or leaving home… He eventually disappears for unknown reasons and becomes forgotten.

Fina, Goddess of Love: The most popular candidate for Gwyn’s wife, or at least his first, I wanted to design her with the Embraced Set in mind, just modified to look more queenly rather than armor. Going by the general fanon, I interpret her as the mother of both NK and Gwynevere, but due to unknown circumstances, just up-and-left. Why? I dunno I haven’t thought that deep :(

Also wanted to try out and giving her a different look, skin-tone and facial wise compared to all the other gods and goddesses out there.

Velka, Goddess of Sin: My favorite goddess, her lore and weaponry associated with her is cool, but even with DS3 and all its DLC, I wish we got to know more of her and how she even became the one to hold the title of “goddess of sin” and how she absolves it. She is also, I noticed in fan-art and fanfic, the other most popular candidate for Gwyn’s wife.

Due to the fact that both Gwyndolin and Filianore are associated with illusions and magic, I interpret her as the mother of Filianore and Gwyndolin. She has sharp features and very pale skin, and share’s Filianore’s dark hair.

For her design, I compared aspects of the Statue of Velka from DS3, and both Oswald of Carim and Cromwell the pardoner. I didn’t want her to strictly dress like Oswald and Cromwell, so I incorporated more feathers to her outfit to give her a more “regal” look, as befitting a goddess, and not just pardoner. Funnily enough, with her book of sins and outfit, she also gives the aura of a medieval judge.

Caitha, Goddess of Tears: The third goddess associated with Carim, and one that I intentionally kept her eyes hidden. Mentioned in both 2 and 3, I want to reflect her constant “mourning” nature, and since ‘Gentle Prayer’ is associated with her chime in DS3, I thought her being in a position of prayer would be most appropriate.

Nahr Alma, God of Blood and Murder: Take Titchy Gren, make him more beast-like in proportion, now make him the size of Father Ariandel with the animalistic agility of the Orphan of Kos or Slave Knight Gael, and you have the God of Blood himself. I interpret him as a kind of god that is shunned by the rest, and is mostly treated as an attack dog, and nothing more. REALLY resents the other gods.

Mouth o’ Mine

Harry X Reader: Angst, smut

In which Harry’s no good with his words but he sure is good with his mouth.

Request? Yes:

some harry face sitting action maybe?

Author’s note: This is a continuation of “Mess o’ Mine.” I would suggest reading that first, if you haven’t already. I thought this was gonna be the end but then I fucked up so… there’s also a part 3. Hope you enjoy! I did!

Part 1: Mess o’ Mine // Part 3: Mind o’ Mine


You’ve been running through the events that have occurred, confused at the escalation and the outcome. No issues have been resolved, and there wasn’t really a conversation or discussion. You don’t know any more than you did when you heard Harry singing your poems. Has he used your writing in more songs on his album?  Has he read your whole journal? God, you hope not. One poem is bad enough.

Harry hasn’t been around, hasn’t tried calling for the two weeks since he showed up on your doorstep. You’ve flipped the channel whenever he shows up on your television and scrolled at record speed when he’s popped up on your social media feeds. Maybe you should feel relieved and cleansed of his toxicity, but you don’t. Instead, you feel a little broken, like your stomach is splintering into pieces, and your mind still feels split open. Not only that, but you can smell him, feel the weight of him on top of you, taste the foreign flavor of his mouth. This isn’t what you need.

A whole other wave of confusion has rolled over you in terms of your relationship with Harry, if there still is one. The two of you have crossed a line without any prior thought or contemplation. Years upon years of friendship have been threatened, and you’re not even sure how it happened. Why did he kiss you? How did the two of you end up in bed, naked between the sheets? If you were confused about it before, trying to figure things out has only worsened your introspection.

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imagine Derek wanting to propose but getting so nervous that he ends up shifting and padding over to Stiles as a wolf with the ringbox between his teeth. He knows it’s stupid but he really wants to do this and can’t figure out a different way to get over his nerves and h figures stiles won’t mind. Stiles sees how carefully Derek comes over to him, with something small, just about the right size to fit into his palm in his mouth and he thinks maybe Derek is sheepish. He sees him looking at him intensely and expectantly and nervously when he drops the thing in his hand. And Stiles grins and tries to hold back on the urge to laugh and tease because OMG DEREK YOU’RE  FINALLY ADMITTING YOU WANNA PLAY FETCH and he just hurls the ringbox across the room. Derek gives Stiles the most dead pan wolf look Stiles has ever seen. He shifts back just so he can judge stiles some more with his eyebrows. “Are you kidding me?” He asks when he realizes the surprised and confused look on Stiles’ face, who is still quite amused because he is never not amused by all the potential dog jokes. “Oh come on, Der, we both know you’d enjoy it, why can’t you just let yourself go for a moment?” Stiles asks. Derek stalks over to the ring box and back to Stiles. “Good boy-” Stiles starts with a cheeky grin. But then Derek flips the box open to reveal the ring “I was trying to propose, idiot.” And it’s the most non glorious engagement, Derek standing there butt naked with furrowed eyebrows, staring at stiles and wondering how he was so in love with this guy who bursts out laughing at the whole situation and doesn’t hesitate to immediately call all his friends and tell this story. After he says yes and hugs and kisses Derek like crazy ofc

(Submitted by @halesheart)


Oh my gosh, yes! I love this.

(I’m laughing so hard right now, this just made my day)

Sunday Morning

Summary: A young man and a young woman run into one another on a Sunday morning at a coffee shop, both of them heartbroken, and rediscover what it means to love and be loved. Bucky x Reader 

 Author’s Note: I’ve been working on this one for a bit. It’s basically the feel-good romance no one ever expected me to write (me included) 

 Words: ~2900

Originally posted by writingandcoffeehouse

Bucky used to love Sunday mornings. They were meant for sleeping in, for curling against the soft, tender body that slept next to him.

They’d had five years of Sunday mornings, of her soft sighs in his ear as she stirred from her sleep, bright green eyes blinking sleepily up at him as he kissed her plush, pink lips. Five years of Sunday mornings, of making coffee in a pair of boxers; of her arms wrapping around him from behind, a soft cheek against his bare back. Five years of Sunday mornings, of sitting at the breakfast bar in their pajamas, her thumb wiping jelly off the corners of his mouth.

Five years of Sunday mornings, wasted.

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Punk (Chap. 11)

Originally posted by coporolight

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: ~2500

Warnings: Language, mission/war related violence and gore, shooting, battle related injuries/casualties/mayhem

A/N:  My sincere apologies for how long this has taken.  I’ve been dealing with some personal things and, quite frankly, it took away all desire to write.  I hope you like this chapter, the photo with the shield later on in the story is actually the inspiration for the entire series.  So you can get inspiration from anywhere :)  I want to thank everyone who stuck around waiting and who has been so helpful and kind to me.  Also, I’m very excited to continue writing more chapters!  Thank you for your continued patience.

As always, feedback is always appreciated.  Please let me know how the ‘action’ plays out as I am always looking for ways to improve my storytelling.  Thanks!



Your face fell in horror, but you seemed to be the only one moving, the rest of the world seemed to be stuck in some sort of time lapse.  Bucky was still just crouching there, holding the boy, with that stupid, beautiful smile still plastered to his face, not yet seeing the danger, not yet registering your alarm.

No no no no no no NO!  Your mind was screaming the words as you tore your gaze away from the scene.  The man was getting closer.  NO!

You bolted forward, shoving the woman into the alley screaming for Bucky to run, ripping your vocal chords in the process. Your legs felt like they were trudging through molasses, like some force was pulling you back, weighing you down. And each step on the pavement felt like an elephant stomp making the ground shake.  But it was as if you weren’t moving any closer.  But you had to.  You had to.   Because what was about to happen could. not. happen.

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Let Me Protect You - Mitch Rapp

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Mitch Rapp/Reader

Word Count: 11,337

Warnings: WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN? 18+, NSFW, Oral (both receiving), Orgasm Denial, Multiple Orgasms, Daddy Kink, Shower Sex, Wall Sex, Bondage, Mitch’s Scruff, Mitch’s sexy ass arms and muscles and abs and face and MITCH’S ENTIRE BEING

Notes: Holy. Shit. It’s long overdue but THAT WORD COUNT??? I am dying inside from this. I hope you dirty people like this. Please let me know because this literally killed me inside to write. 

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baby, my baby | 01

Originally posted by kookmin

“Raise my child, just for twelve months”

◇ pairing: jungkook | reader
◇ genre: angst, fluff. parents au
◇ word count: 6.4 k
◇ author’s note: i will be updating this series every friday evening, 11~12pm korean time! i really hope you enjoy!

part one ↠ part two part three part four (coming next week!)

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the taste of your cherry chapstick

Summary: Punk!Phil has a crush, so when Pastel!Dan is manning a kissing booth for a school event, he finds himself showing up with a pound in his pocket.

Word count: 5364

Warnings: food

A/N:  Special thanks goes to Harley (@danslester) for giving me the idea for this fic and encouraging me as I was writing it, and to Gisele (@fringegaps) for reading it over and promising it was okay to post. (Also let me know if you’d be interested in seeing more of this version of Dan and Phil because they were fun to write and I have a few ideas.)

(Ao3 link)

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VLD Theory: Altea and the Alteans

Alright, so,, we all know that there are a few plot holes and a lot of unanswered questions when it comes to the Alteans and the Galra. Like: 

  • If Alteans are such a peaceful species, what requires them to have training droids who are not only set for Altean child combatants, but whose child setting is enough to take down 5 garrison-experienced humans in less than a minute flat? 
  • Why build Voltron, the most powerful weapon in the universe, in the first place, especially if during the time of its construction, the Galra and the Alteans were at peace?
  • How did the war even start? It’s not like the Galra and the Alteans had a distant kind of peace–they worked together to defend the universe. Where did that go?
  • How deep does the connection with the Galra even run? We know that they were close enough to create Voltron together, and that its creation wasn’t a secret kept between just Zarkon and Alfor. Allura even refers to a time when she traveled through Galran transportation hubs. Just how far back do they go?

Well I think I picked up on something within the new info given to us in season 2, and my thought process while answering all these questions relies strongly on this speculation. So sit back folks because this is gonna be a Lot.

They key to all of this is that I believe that in season 2, during Shiro’s escapades in the Black Lion, the destroyed planet we see is none other than Altea itself.

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alec always liked post battle showers, taking their time washing the grime and blood off of each other until exhausted limbs were ready for sleep. despite stepping in looking like they had both been through hell and stumbled out the other side, they’d step out of the shower with steam warmed skin, half lost in kisses and ready to sink into the sheets.

but what he liked far more than that, what they both liked more than nearly anything, were baths shared after a day so long neither of them felt like they’d see the end of it. days filled with clave related nonsense, both of them dealing with bureaucracy until alec’s teeth hurt and magnus was rubbing his own shoulders, growling at everything. it was nearly unspoken as they stepped through the portal, magnus tugging alec closer, their torsos pressed together his warm face tucked down against alec’s neck. it made alec shiver but he held onto him, dragging his fingers over the tight muscles of magnus’s back.

“i’ll get the bath ready.” alec’s whisper was caught in the warm air between them, magnus’s breath released in a sigh against alec’s deflect rune. but with it came a nod, though he didn’t release alec just yet, pressing a soft line of kisses down that rune before he did. it sent a shiver through alec but a distant, tired one. and then they parted in the breezy hallway, magnus already pulling his military jacket off, his shoulders slightly slumped.

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Kitchen Favours

Jughead x Reader
No one asked for this, but I’ve had this idea in my head for ages so thought it was finally time to let it out into the world.
Prompt: Y/N and Jughead work at Pop’s together. Cheryl winds up Y/N which leads to a heated moment between Jughead and Y/N.
Warnings: Strong smut themes 

Originally posted by bettytail

“You know you don’t have to stay with me” you smile, setting down the waitress pad on the kitchen counter next to you. You lean your hip on the counter as you stare at Jughead, an apron still tied around his waist. Since the Drive-In closes Pop’s offered Jughead a job here, just a couple of nights a week, the odd weekend. He spend half of his life here anyway, Pop’s just thought he might as well make some money at the same time. 

You had been working at Pop’s for around a year now. You were the one who trained Jughead, not that the place was complicated at all. He’d even started to cook some of the food, helping out the chefs from time to time, like tonight, he was covering for the Thursday night chef.
“And what would you do if you got a order in?” he asks, raising his eyes in a cocky manner towards you, setting down a spatula on the counter next to you.
“I’m sure I can manage to flip a burger and cook a few fries” you smirk back, laughing at his confidence. When Jughead joined it was the first time you had ever spoken to each other. Sure, you had seen him around school, hanging with Archie Andrews and Betty Copper, but the two of you had never needed to speak to each other, or even acknowledge each others existence until a couple of weeks ago. Since then the two of you had create a little friendship based on flirty jokes which the both of you knew meant absolutely nothing.
“Are you calling my job easy?” He smirks back, taking a step closer to me. He stops at the counter, leaning himself against it as he looks down at me.
“I’m saying you shouldn’t underestimate me” I say with a wink, making him smirk even more. His head so close to mine as a piece of dark hair falls into his eyes, shading his already dark eyes.

“Anyway” I sigh, breaking away from the eye contact that neither of us seemed to break. “I was just thinking of you getting home. Won’t Archie and his dad be worried about you? Seeing as you were so careless not to tell them where you were” you tease him. He sighs as he takes a step back from the counter which he was still leaning against.
“Trust me, I think they’ll be fine. Fred is working late and Archie has Veronica round, so don’t think they’ll want disturbing for a while now” he rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner.

It’s at that moment you hear the bell on the door ring, indicating you finally had customers. You walk out to see Cheryl and her minions sat in the booth closest to the kitchen you had just walked out of. You roll your eyes discretely at the sight of them, hoping they hadn’t seen. Placing a fake smile on your face you walk over.
“Hi” you smile politely, pulling out the pen you had balanced behind your ear.
“Look who it is girls” Cheryl gives an unfriendly smirk in your direction as the other two girls look over and start giggling. You look confused for a moment before choosing to ignore them. You tried to ignore the rumours and crap Cheryl often spread around so often. They usually were false, malicious attempts to hurt someone for no reason other then her boredom.
“What can I get you?”
“Tell me, Y/N” Cheryl says, folding her arms as an evil smile spreads across her face like a disease. “What was he like?”
“What was who like?” you ask, drawn into her comments just like she wanted.
“Moose?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh come on Y/N. Everyone knows he took your virginity last night. He’s telling anyone and everyone” she smirks, the other girls laughing.
“That’s… that’s a lie” you stutter.
“Right” they laugh like a pack of hyenas, you their new prey.
“Excuse me” you take a sharp intake of breath before walking back into the kitchen. Throwing your waitress pad back down on the counter as hard as possible, feeling more angry then anything.

“Wow. Y/N what’s wrong?” Jughead asks, his eyes wide from shock at your act.
“Just get rid of them please” you say through gritted teeth, pointing out the door to the restaurant.
“One second” he say, touching your arm gently as he walks out the door to the booth. You hear a mumbling sound before the bell rings on the door and the door slams shut behind them. Jughead cautiously walks back into the kitchen where you were still stood.

“Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” He asks confused, trying not to push too hard as your anger was clear.
“No.” you sigh, breathing deeply. Completely in shock of the moment. Why would they say that? Why would they think you and Moose even slept together in the first place? Unless… Unless Moose said it himself?
“That asshole!” you say to yourself through gritted teeth. You turn to faced Jughead who is still staring at you confused. “Moose is spreading a rumour that he took my virginity”
“Your a virgin?” Jughead jokes, giving a confused look.
“Now is not the time Jug”“
"Sorry. Sorry” he apologises honestly, holding up his hands as if to surrender. “Why would he do that?” he asks, finally walking forward so he was leaning on the counter in front of you. It was only a small kitchen so as the two of us stand there out feet practically touch.
“The idiot asked me out the other day. After everyone found out he was at Sweet-water with Kevin I guess he wanted to make people think that he wasn’t gay. I said no. He’s not my type anyway. The asshole must have got worried about his ego and made up some story about us going out. Which of course involved him taking my virginity” you sigh, tipping your head back too look at the bright lights on the ceiling.
“I’m sorry Y/N” he sighs, reaching over to hold you arm to console you.
“I can’t believe this. No way in a million years would I give my virginity to a jock, last of all Moose” you say with a small laugh, trying to calm yourself down, a little part of your blood still boiling as you think of all the shit you will have to deal with tomorrow.
“I can’t believe your still a virgin” he laughs.
“Ugh.” you groan, feeling the need to explode.
“I really can’t. Y/N your amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have yo-”

“No one seems to get me though Jug. Whenever you tell people it’ll be your first time they always tell you they’ll go slow with you. That your first time is special.” you blurt, taking a step forward due to this sudden wave of anger. “Well how can it be special if it’s just some awkward fumble on a guys couch or in the back of their car. Where’s the heat in that? People think they’re being so romantic in ‘I’ll take it slow with you’ but its not! I want the heat. I want the passion. That’s romantic. No one seem’s to get that.”

Jughead just stand there staring at you, looking you up and down as if tying to take in everything your saying.
“Even if my first time if with some stranger. Or it’s just a pointless one night stand. As long as it is not this typical teen fantasy of first times, I’ll be happy. I just want that fire, you know?” you look at him. His eyes suddenly darker then usual.
“Got it” he smirks, suddenly stepping closer to you, placing his arms under your legs and pushing you onto the kitchen counter behind you. Your head gently knocks the cupboard above the counter as suddenly his lips attach to yours. The breath is knocked out of you as you take in what is happening. His lips work desperately on yours, sucking on your lower lip as his hand cups the back of your neck, the other still placed on your leg, holding you tightly. You moan into the kiss, glad there were no customers tonight to hear the two of you.
His lips start to roam down your face to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake.
“Jughead…” you say breathlessly, part of you wanting to ask what was happening, the other part wanting to see what happened next.
You let out a loud moan as he begins to suck on a spot on your neck, sure to leave a mark later. Your hands roam to his head, pushing your hands through his already messy hair, pulling him closer so he smirks against your skin. Your legs wrap around his waist, bringing him in. Your hands pull on his hair as you roll your hips against his, making him moan just as loud.
Quickly his lips press against yours again as his hands roam down to the bottom of your black work t-shirt, pulling desperately on it. You pull your lips away from his and lift your arms as he pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it away on the floor, his lips immediately attaching back on your neck as he roams lower, biting lightly on your shoulder. Your hands finger the bottom of his shirt as you lift it up over his head.
His lips begin to roam lower then your shoulder, biting and sucking on parts of your skin. Your head falls back on the cupboard counter as his hand begins to roam up the inside of your thigh. You moan again as he bites a sensitive spot, his hand sliding further up your thigh. You hear him smirk against your skin as you moan, cocky with how he was giving you everything you craved.
“Shut it Jones” you say breathlessly as one hand slides down his back, the other going to his hair as you pull his head up to meet your, your lips crashing together again in a rush. Finally Jughead’s hand slips to the waistband of your jeans…

“Jughead. Y/N. I’m back” Pop’s shouts as he enters the diner.