writing prompts :3

archiveofourown.org
Green - Nardaviel
By Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Green
Fandom: Boueibu
Pairings: Ibuatsu, Enkin
Rating: T

Atsushi knows what to expect from most of his new housemates. En wants the master bedroom, and maybe its occupant too. Kinshirou wants En to be a good housemate, which is probably a losing battle. As for him, he just wants everyone to eat right and get along. He wants everything to stay the same.

But he has no idea what Arima wants. A vegetable garden? Tea? If he could read Arima better, maybe Arima wouldn’t throw him off-balance so often. Or maybe that’s because of something else.

2

Victuuri Week Day 3: Goblin AU

in which Viktor is this 937-year-old goblin who’s looking for his bride and Yuuri is fated to his bride and can see ghosts:


It was the strangest kind of attraction.

Even Yuuri, with his rather dull intuitive perception, had been very much cognizant – at that precise moment of meeting the stranger’s gaze – of the sudden electrifying chemistry between them, transpiring ever so briefly yet imparting a long-lasting effect on his consciousness.

It felt to him as though the world around him was so abruptly thrust into an eternity of quietude, blurred by the hollowness of nonexistence, except for the figure of the man who captivated his undiluted attention, a defined entity against the illegible backdrop, like a distinctive gleam of light in a vacuum of disorienting darkness.

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anonymous asked:

Hey! I'm the one who gave you my idea of lance being a piano prodigy and to answer your question, of course you can write it! Your writing is so good it would be a waste other wise!

Thank you so much <3

Original Prompt Here! 

Growing up Lance had always watched his grandmother play the piano. Whenever he stayed the night at her house she would play piano long past his bedtime. 

Lance always found himself mesmerized with how her fingers glided across the ivory or how certain chords clashed together but never ruined the song. 

Lance learned the basic of piano when he was around five years old and from there he learned more skills. Around the age of nine Lance found himself “performing” in front of his family almost every night. 

When Lance turned twelve he started to perform in music festivals in and around his community. Lance loved it, he thrived off the attention and his family always came out to support him. 

Lance became a master by the time he was thirteen. There was nothing Lance couldn’t play and his siblings requested songs nearly everyday. 

Lance played piano for any reason. Someone was sad? Lance would play a happy song for them. Someone got their heart smashed? Lance would play an emotional song. No matter the what the person was going through Lance always had a song for them. 

Lance’s favorite songs to play were songs that had lyrics to them. Lance would play and his siblings would sing, it was a perfect thing. It brought all of them closer and gave them something to do in order to bond. 

-

A few weeks after Lance joined the Garrison he realised how much music meant to him. He found his fingers playing notes along his thighs throughout his classes. He found himself humming the songs he used to play every night with his siblings. He could still hear the chords and see the music notes whenever he laid his head down to go to bed. 

It made Lance homesick and he found himself calling his family more at night time just to see if it would help fill the gap that was left when he left home. 

Nobody knew about Lance’s talent, not even his friend Hunk. Lance didn’t tell them because it wasn’t important. After all how can paino help Lance pilot an aircraft? 

-

The longer Lance was in team Voltron, the more he missed the instrument that grounded him. Missing this instrument resulted in Lance missing his family which resulted in him being homesick. He couldn’t avoid it, it consumed him whenever Lance was left alone or everyone was silent. 

Lance would find himself playing the notes along his leg or on the arm of the chair in Blue. He would hum during missions and whenever he was in the shower. Lance would also walk on nights he couldn’t sleep. The nights where he would wake up with his family’s name on his tongue. The nights where he would give anything to be home. 

Lance was in a new part of the castle, he was slowly exploring the castle on his midnight walks. It was a long hallway that was lit up by lights scattered along the floor. There weren’t many doors but everytime Lance encountered one he would open it and pear inside. It was around 3 in the morning and Lance opened a door and stuck his head inside. The room was dark but as Lance walked into the room anyways, lights turned on one by one illuminating the room and revealing the objects in the room. 

Lance nearly cried when he saw what was in the middle of the room. It looked just like a grand piano, just slightly different shape. Lance slowly approached the piano, his heart beating louder every time step he took. He reached out and brushed his fingers against the smooth material and cleaned off the seat that had collected dust from not being used. He opened the lid and stretched his finger over the keys. After a few moments of making sure he was awake he began to play. 

Lance was shocked, he couldn’t believe it. It sounded just like a normal piano. It sounded just like living room on a normal night or right after school when he practiced the most. His fingers flew over the keys with ease and Lance played a little bit louder. He wasn’t sure how long he was playing or when he started to cry but Lance ignored his new audience that slowly filtered into the room. 

He snuck a glance at is friends who were watching from the doorway. The only way to describe their faces was utter shock. Keith’s and Shiro’s mouths were hung open, Hunk had a small smile and Pidge was rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Allura and Coran were mumbling about the memories that they each had in this room. 

Lance closed his eyes and imagined his family sitting around him and singing with him. Yet when he opened them he was met by people that weren’t his family. Lance shook his head and stopped playing, he lowered his hands and looked at his team that had grown to be his new family. Sure he still had his blood family but who were to say that he couldn’t have two families. 

Lance took into everyone expression, wiped his tears and broke into a huge smile, “what did I surprise you all?” 

I love this idea so much tbh 

Thank you for letting me write this! I hope I did it justice!!!!! 

I hope you like it!!!

Thank you <3333

Day 2 - Purring

Something was rumbling in her ear. 

Marinette woke slowly, the soft rumble reeling her out of a pleasant dream and the unmistakable vibration of her pillow steadily grounding her in reality. But even when she blinked open her eyes it still took a moment to place the sound. At first she thought it was her phone. 

But then she remembered what had been happening before she fell asleep.

Root beer floats on the balcony. Video games until well past two in the morning. Giggling at a comic book on her bed until no, that was definitely the last thing she remembered. As if in response to this, she became aware of a glossy page plastered to her cheek. Sitting up, she peeled the comic book off and tossed it aside, afraid to look behind her at the other side of her bed. Because if he’d simply left, then what was that suspiciously purr-like sound? Man, they’d fallen asleep on accident again, hadn’t they?

In the darkness Marinette peeked over her shoulder at him, then immediately sqeaked in terror when she saw his bare arm and wrenched her pillow up to press it over her eyes. 

He isn’t transformed. Oh my god, he detransformed in his sleep! 

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OTP Idea #768

Person A, the resident punk of the school and Person B, the ultimate goody two shoes get paired together for a class project. Person B reluctantly goes along with the pairing, thinking A won’t do much work. Person A however is head over heels for Person B, and takes every chance they can to work up to A’s standards.

Quote Writing Prompts
  • 1: "Yeah uh - Yeah no, that sounds awful."
  • 2: "Please... Don't leave me here. Don't leave me alone, without you."
  • 3: "So, that went well."
  • 4: "You're awful. I love it."
  • 5: "What the hell do you think you're doing, exactly?"
  • 6: "Is that... lipstick, on your collar?"
  • 7: "Did you do this?"
  • 8: "You know what? This place feels like home."
  • 9: "Oh shit. Am I - Am I in love? That's not supposed to be happening. That's not right."
  • 10: "Who are you? Where am I? What is this? WHAT IS GOING ON?!"
  • 11: "Dear (name), First of all, I'm so sorry. I really am."
  • 12: "I can't do this anymore."
  • 13: "So what, you're just gonna leave?"
  • 14: "Did you honestly think I wouldn't figure it out?"
  • 15: "You really think you can beat me? That's cute."
  • 16: "I'm tired of you. I really am, at this point."
  • 17: "Oh, just digging myself a nice grave, you?"
  • 18: "Shhhh. This is my favorite part."
  • 19: "Hey, can I hold your boobs for a sec?"
  • 20: "I think I may have found a song that accurately describes how I feel toward you."
  • 21: "Is that necessary?"
  • 22: "I don't like it."
  • 23: "I'm getting bad vibes... We should go."
  • 24: "HA! Loser!"
  • 25: "You wear me out, kid."
  • 26: "Is this a joke? This is a joke, right? You're joking."
  • 27: "The washing machine broke, I almost lost my keys, the car got dented, and a wasp got into the house and hijacked the bedroom for four days! Four. Days."
  • 28: "You're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me."
  • 29: "You kiddin'? That's brilliant, c'mon!"
  • 30: "So what do you say to this: you, me, a nice big glass of milk, a thing of cookies?"
  • 31: "My hero."
  • 32: "That was harsh."
  • 33: "You better pipe down. I'm not laughing."
  • 34: "So you're really gonna do this, huh? And nothing I say can change your mind?"
  • 35: "So uh. I noticed you're kinda naked. Is that intentional, or... ?"
  • 36: "Why is there a dog in the living room?"
  • 37: "They mixed up our reservations. One room. One bed."
  • 38: "Oh boy. I'm on the weird side of YouTube again."
  • 39: "You, my friend, are a filthy sinner, and I approve wholeheartedly."
  • 40: "Did you mean like... this?"

ailuromatron  asked:

"I don't know if I should kiss you or slap you." "...Wait, what?" NurseyDex <3

It’s not like Will actively goes looking for fights.

Honestly.

No matter what Bitty mumbles under his breath, and no matter how disappointed Chowder always looks in the aftermath, it’s not like it’s something Will hopes for.

Honestly, it’s not anything he wants.

Because sometimes it feels like he’s fighting all the time – like he’s had to fight for everything he’s got, and like he’ll always be fighting.

Sometimes it feels like that’s all he’ll ever be good for.

From the way that Nursey’s lips curl in a sneer (a pointed reminder that Will is forever screwing up), it’s pretty fuckin’ clear that Will’s not the only one thinking it. Not for the first time, Will finds himself wishing that he could just disappear – that the ground would swallow him up or that lightening would strike – literally anything that would save him from listening to Nursey tear him apart.

Because it’s not like Will actively goes looking for fights, but he’s not going to just stand aside and let people talk shit about his teammates, and he’s sure as fuck not about to let anyone get away with spewing that kind of homophobic bullshit… not here. Not in Samwell.

And if Nursey doesn’t get that-

Well. 

It’s just another fuckin’ battle that Will doesn’t want to fight.

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once-uponacaptain  asked:

Not sure if you're still taking prompts, but if you are, how about 'finding the other wearing their clothes'?

The last thing he thought he’d be doing on a Tuesday evening when the sky opened up and let out a monster of a thunderstorm, was leaving the house and getting caught in the rain. And yet, here he is, wringing water out of his clothes in the bathroom sink to get them just dry enough that they won’t leave trails when he takes them to the laundry room downstairs.

He heaves out a heavy sigh but he can’t seem to get mad. Because every time he tries, he thinks of Emma Swan knocking on his door and pulling him down several flights of stairs to soak him to his toes. His best friend is a thunderstorm in herself.

There’s a knock at the door, and he hums in reply.

“I made apology coffee,” Emma calls out. He laughs, as though she has anything to apologise for. She could lead him anywhere and he’d follow willingly, as head over heels as he is about her.

“I’ll be right there, love.”

It takes him a few seconds to gather his clothes in the basket at the corner, to push his fingers through his hair several times and look in the mirror, giving himself a silent pep talk. It’s mostly new, the discovery of the severity of his feelings for Emma. He’s always known he was drawn to her, but there’s something else there, too – a need to never be separated, a sensation of care that extends well beyond the natural, and a word that starts with L that he doesn’t think he should ever utter out loud in her presence. Not now anyway. Someday, maybe.

He hears her humming from the kitchen and smiles to himself.

“Apology coffee and a musical performance? Aren’t I just the luckiest man in the world.” It’s easy for him to slip into a tone of levity, even easier when she teases him right back.

“Please,” she scoffs. “You’re going to have to make me coffee if you want to hear me sing.”

“I make you coffee every single weekend,” he replies, throwing in a pout for good measure.

Emma shrugs, her smirk taking away from her excuse of an apology. She turns around to pick up the mugs from the counter and that’s when he notices it, the deep red fabric that bunches around her arms where she’s pushed the too long sleeves to her elbows. It hangs loosely on her frame, the threads fraying, the small tear in the hem glaring at him in recognition.

He hasn’t seen this sweatshirt in years, had forgotten about it completely, in fact. And here it is, worn by the woman he would never, in his existence, want to forget.

She places the mugs on the table and hesitates when he stays frozen in place. He’s staring, he knows, but he can’t help it.

“I forgot to bring an extra sweater, I thought it would be okay if I borrowed one?” she explains, though it comes out more like a question. He opens his mouth but doesn’t get a word out. Emma’s fingers run along the hem, fidgeting. “I’ll just go put it back in your drawer, I’ll be fine in my shirt.”

He steps in front of her when she tries to pass by him, and shakes his head.

“No, no, I just– my brother gave me that sweatshirt. I simply haven’t seen it in a while, that’s all.”

“Shit, sorry, I should–,” she moves towards his room but he grabs her by the elbow and pulls her back in place.

“Swan, it’s perfectly fine. It even suits you,” he grins. And gods, does it ever. It brings out the gold of her hair and matches the red on her cheeks that’s always present during colder months. And it’s something else, to see her wrapped up in clothing that’s his. He’s pathetic in his longing for domesticity, for wanting it with Emma and Emma only. Unbidden, he imagines her in nothing but his sweatshirt, greeting him on a morning after with intimacy he should not be letting creep into his mind when she’s standing right in front of him.

He coughs, trying to cover it up.

She eyes him warily. “Are you sure?” He knows what she’s asking, Are you sure you want to trust me with this? As though she and Liam aren’t on the same standing in his mind, as though she isn’t deserving of being compared to his late brother. How she doesn’t see his heart beat straight out of his chest when she’s near, he’ll never know.

He gently runs a hand up and down her arm, and she visibly deflates at the gesture. He’s so close to her that he can count the creases on her forehead, knows they won’t leave her until the unnecessary guilt subsides.

“Positive,” he reassures.

And perhaps if he was privy to her thought process, he would expect her reaching up on her tiptoes and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. Instead, he stands there like a fool, stock still, as it happens.

“Thank you,” she practically whispers. She squeezes his hand once before stepping back. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

He watches her walk to the table, damp curls hanging down her back, at home in a place that isn’t hers. Engulfed in an article of clothing that he associates with warmth and comfort. Completely and irrevocably making his heart pound. He lets out a gust of a breath. A thunderstorm in herself, indeed.

intimacy prompts

plisetskyism  asked:

for the drabble thing: otayuri and 32?

#32: “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” Yuri blurted the words out before he could even process them. He hadn’t meant to tell Otabek, not yet. Not today, anyway. Yuri clasped a hand against his mouth as his eyes widened, unsure of what to do.

Otabek sat across the table from him. They were out on a not-date because Yuri obviously hadn’t deliberately chosen his outfit to be cat print free in order to seem cool to Otabek while they were out in St. Petersburg for Yuri’s birthday. It definitely wasn’t a date. It’s not like Otabek was wearing a nice cardigan and it wasn’t as if Otabek had flown all the way here so that he could spend time with Yuri for his birthday. It was one of the sweetest things someone had ever done for Yuri. And of course, it didn’t help the Russian’s growing feelings for the older teen.

Yuri wasn’t sure when he had started having… feelings for Otabek. It just kind of happened, as such things tend to do. All he knew was that somehow and somewhere in the past couple of months of daily video chats or phone calls, and of course the constant texting, Yuri fell. And boy, did he fall hard. Suddenly, he couldn’t get the sound of the Kazakh boy’s voice out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes, He saw Beka as if he was permanently burned into his eyes.

It wasn’t easy to figure out what was going on. Yuri’s heart kept skipping beats and he felt short of breath. Not to mention, he was distracted at practice. It wasn’t until Yuuri had pulled him aside to talk with him after practice one day that Yuri started to put the puzzle pieces together.

He was falling in love.

This couldn’t be happening to him, could it? No, it wasn’t happening. It was just a silly crush because Otabek was a couple years older than him and was super cool and was really attractive-

It was happening, and there was nothing that Yuri could do to stop it or fix it. Except for maybe tell the Kazakh teen, but that was too complicated. Then he had to worry about getting rejected entirely and left friendless once more, or worse. Yuri could get friendzoned and have to deal with all sorts of unrequited feelings. That would be horri-

“-ra? Yura, are you okay? You haven’t moved or said anything in two minutes.” Otabek spoke softly, worry creasing his brow.

Yuri blinked rapidly, realizing that he had gone into his own little world and slowly lowered his hand from his mouth slowly. He nodded once and mustered up the courage to speak, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray him. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine. It’s just, that’s not what I wanted to say.”

Otabek cocked an eyebrow. “So you didn’t mean it?”

“No, no, no! I mean, yes? Ugh…” Yuri stumbled through his words, trying to recover before Beka thought he was lying to him. “I meant it! I just wasn’t expecting to tell you right now.”

“Oh.” He said softly, a gentle blush dusting his tanned cheeks.

“I’m sorry if I made things between us awkward…”

“Yuri.”

The sound of his actual name rather than a nickname startled the Russian. Beka almost always called him ‘Yura’, so what changed? What was wrong?

“As long as you have feelings for me and I have feelings for you, things could never be awkward between us.”

“Wait… You? You have feelings for me?” Yuri watched as Otabek nodded. “Really?”

His fears quickly dissipated as a smile appeared on Otabek’s face. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you since I saw you in Yakov’s training camp. I only realized that I was in love with you shortly after your exhibition skate.”

Yuri blushed. “And you’ve just been waiting to see if I returned those feelings this whole time?”

“I’ve known for a while, Yura. You weren’t exactly subtle about it once you realized that you had feelings for me. You got a lot more nervous when you talked to me, but it gradually disappeared and we were back to where we had been before you discovered your feelings. If anything, we started to actually flirt, though I don’t think either one of us really knew that we were.”

“So what does this mean for… Us?”

“I, for one, like the sound of ‘us’. Why don’t we start there?” Beka sat back in his chair, seemingly very content at how their not-date-turned-maybe-date was going.

“Like, boyfriends?”

“Yeah. Boyfriends.”

Yuri beamed. “Okay then.”

“So, are you going to be my boyfriend or not?” he smirked and it made Yuri melt.

“I think the answer to that is obvious, Beka. Of course I’ll be your boyfriend.” The younger teen rolled his eyes but had one of the biggest smiles Otabek had ever seen from him.

It was definitely a date.

FIN

saltyalec  asked:

bless my life you're still doing these!! malec + 20? 🌸

  • 20. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Alec was just about losing his mind when right after he and Magnus sat down on the balcony after dinner, Izzy called, saying he and Magnus were both needed in Central Park. He can’t really blame Izzy, or these demons, or anyone really, for the fact that he’s been trying to propose to Magnus for two weeks and something interrupted him. Every. Single. Time.

They leave the loft through a portal Magnus opened up, and they make their way to the location Izzy gave them. The mission ends rather quickly after they arrive, Magnus’ magic and Alec’s arrows an extremely effective, in sync weapon by now, and as Magnus flicks his wrist to somewhere over Alec’s shoulder, killing the last demon, Alec smiles, thinking of the ring in his pocket.

Magnus is borderline burned out, so Alec insists they walk home, where they promptly both just pass out in their bed.

When Alec wakes up, his mind is already full of plans for dinner that night, plans he’s tried executing again and again, but never managed to get to the most important part. He stretches his arms and legs, feeling the soreness of yesterday’s battle, and then he realises he has the room to stretch on the bed, meaning that Magnus is already up.

Alec makes his way to the kitchen, where Magnus is already standing at the bar, reading over a very heavy, worn book. He looks up when he hears Alec approaching, smiling at him. Alec walks up to him, wrapping his arms around Magnus’ waist, before kissing him softly.

“Morning.“ “Morning, Alexander.“

Just as Alec is about to suggest dinner, Magnus says, “I won’t be home for dinner tonight, I’m afraid.”

Alec feels like a bucket of cold water was just dumped on his head, and he just stares at Magnus, whose expression grows more concerned by the moment.

“Alexander-“

“I can’t do this anymore,“ Alec says, letting go of Magnus and quickly moving to the hallway where he left his jacket last night, pulling the ring out of its pocket. When he comes back, Magnus looks stunned, shocked, and when Alec drops to one knee in front of him, Magnus lets out a shaky breath, hands going over his mouth.

“I’ve been trying to do this for two weeks, even though it feels like longer, because I’ve known I wanted to marry you for months, years, really,“ Alec says, his voice only slightly shaking, Magnus’ gaze filled with awe and love. “I still lose my breath every time you enter I room, every time I see you even, you are everything I’ve ever wanted, and so much more. Every moment I spend with you is precious to me, you are my always and forever. And however long my forever may last, I want to spend it all with you.”

Alec pulls out the ring box, opening it, and Magnus lets out another shaky breath.

“Magnus Bane, will you marry me?“

There is a moment of heavy silence, before Magnus drops to his knees beside Alec, a breathless chorus of yes, of course, I love you, leaving his lips as he wraps his arms around Alec. 

Alec doesn’t know how long they stay there, a tangled mess of limbs, kisses and tears on the kitchen floor, but he can’t find it in himself to care about anything in those moments but the man there with him, the man he’s going to marry.

PROMPT: 3 times Gavin’s wings were the prettiest things Ryan saw, and one time Ryan’s were the prettiest Gavin saw. (King AU)

For @justisaisfine - thank you so much for your generosity and support <3 <3 <3

1.

“So you’re the thief King Ramsey has so wisely decided to let into the castle.”

Ryan raises his eyebrows as Gavin jumps, whirling around from where he was perched on the edge of the castle’s tallest turret. His eyes widen, and Ryan fights a smirk. He knows he makes an imposing sight - the Royal Sorcerer, with his heavy black robes sewn with shimmering silver runes, his hood casting his face into shadow. Especially for an outsider, new to the kingdoms, who knows him only from rumour.

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onceuponaprincessworld  asked:

hi there, how about a "One character adjusting the other's jewelry/neck tie/ etc." with captain swan?

“And then?” Emma urges him from behind the wooden folding panel, excitement evident in her voice.

Killian chuckles. “Then, I knocked two out when they came below deck, hands tied behind my back. Fought my way up after cutting the rope and nicking a sword. I had the captain on his knees in no time, sword to his throat and control of his ship in my hands. That’ll teach him to capture the crew of the Jolly.”

He admits, he has quite a bit of fun regaling his tales, especially to her. Even if her immediate response is almost always–

“How much of that is true?”

“I assure you, love,” he replies, putting hand to his heart even though she can’t see, “I would never lie to you.”

Emma hums in what he knows to be mock disbelief, but he can hear her amusement. It’s a game she plays, teasing him. He enjoys it quite a bit.

Killian fiddles with a trinket of a wooden swan on her dresser, turning it over and over in his hand before setting it back down. He looks up to see himself in the small mirror that hangs on her wall, and notes, not for the first time, how out of place his rougish character seems in the pristine room. He isn’t allowed to be in here, in the Princess’ bedchambers; it isn’t proper. But propriety left the equation the first time Emma kissed him in an alleyway behind a tavern, so there’s that.

He never would have thought, in any life, that the paths of a Pirate Captain and a Princess would ever cross, let alone become so intimately entangled.

“You sure you don’t want to join me at the ball?” his princess asks.

“Though I do appreciate the offer, I prefer my head attached to my neck.”

“Let it be known that the terror of the seven seas, the notorious Captain Hook, fears the Prince Consort,” Emma snorts. It is so unladylike, so far–he’s sure–from the mannerisms that would have been taught to her growing up. There is something to be said about this, the bits she hides from the rest of the kingdom but that are given so freely to him. He smiles.

“It’s your mother that terrifies me, darling.”

Emma laughs, and it warms him from the inside. He’s a fool to have fallen in love with a Princess, one who is fierce and intelligent, one who renders him useless with a touch, one whom he has no future with, would never truly be deserving of.

“So?” Emma says, piercing his thoughts. He hears a rustle of fabric and turns around, finding her in a gown of gold-ish beige, beads catching in the candlelight so it looks like she’s glowing.

He tries to speak but no words come out. She looks enchanting, he wants to tell her, riveting, like a glimmer of light in a long, dark, existence. (His, specifically, but perhaps he shouldn’t get too carried away.)

Emma watches him curiously, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear.

“You’ve rendered me speechless,” he gets out, a soft laugh swallowing up the last syllable. She rolls her eyes but grins anyway.

She hasn’t put on her high heeled shoes yet so she’s still a foot shorter than him when he steps closer. He reaches out his hand to the back of her neck, tracing the delicate golden chain she’s wearing. He gently tugs it out of the place where it’s caught itself in the handiwork of the strap of her dress.

The pendant is a gemstone, rare and unheard of in this land. It is the exact shade of green that matches her eyes. He’d gotten it for her on the occasion of her birthday a few months prior. He can’t help the way the side of his mouth quirks up.

Killian rights the direction of the necklace and stops his hand just shy of the pendant, thumb stroking her collarbone slowly. The air of lightness has subsided and when he looks up, he finds Emma fixated on him, gaze intense and breaths shallow.

“Truly, you look stunning.”

When she kisses him, it’s deliberately slow and deep as though she’s attempting to slow down time. He knows, he’s guilty of it too. His hooked hand encircles her waist and he presses her closer, wishing this could be a permanent embrace, and not one shared in secret behind locked doors and in shadowed alleys under disguises.

“This thing would be much more fun with you, Killian,” she murmurs, nudging his nose with hers once she breaks the kiss. They both know he can’t attend a royal gathering, not with the crimes of thievery and disservice to the crown on his head.

“Aye, I’m loath to miss an evening with you,” he rasps out. “But I’ll meet you after, and we’ll make sure you have some fun, hm?”

He feels her smirk pressed up against his lips when he kisses her.

intimacy prompts

anonymous asked:

au where Mrs. Agreste dies after pushing a little black-haired-blue-eyed girl out of the path of a moving car

When Chloé announced to everyone that Adrien Agreste was going to start attending their class, Marinette thought that her classmate was just mocking her like she always did.

But Chloé wasn’t kidding, and now Marinette stood frozen in her classroom’s doorway, staring at the back of the golden-haired boy that she had been avoiding for the better part of the past ten years.

Because, really, how was she supposed to act around the boy who lost a parent because of her?

k-ede  asked:

I'm so here for the moment that max ask to magnus; are you my brother's boyfriend? and magnus looking alec like "what do I say?" then alec will take magnus' hand and he will look at max and say "yes, he is my boyfriend"

HI OMG THIS IS SO CUTE?!?!

I’m just imagining everybody decked out in their best, just hanging around, chatting before the ceremony starts. Max comes in with Robert and Maryse through the door and Alec sees him immediately. Alec leans towards Magnus, who’s talking animatedly with Jace, touches his elbow and mutters a quick “be right back” before he stalks towards the door and bends down just in time for Max to run into his arms for a hug. 

“It’s your big day, isn’t it Max?” Alec leans back and surveys his younger brother while adjusting his collar, “Looking good.”

“Woah, you look like you’re dressed to impress. Did Izzy pick your suit?” Max looked at Alec, wide-eyed. Alec was taken aback for a second before letting his eyes drift back to where Magnus was and he gave a soft smile, “Come here. I’ve got someone to introduce you to.”

“Magnus, this is Max and Max, this is Magnus, who owns the house we’re currently in,” Alec introduces them as Jace rubs Max’s head affectionately. Magnus looks down with a tilt of his head and extends his hand, “Why, hello. Nice to meet you, Max. Hope you like the…place,” Magnus remarks while gesturing to the room with a wine glass in his other hand. Max reachs out for a firm handshake with a soft greeting and thanks Magnus for letting them have the ceremony at his place, to which Magnus returns a smile, “Well, you have your brother to thank as well. He helped with the decorations.”

Max looks between Alec and Magnus before something clicks in his mind, “Are you my brother’s boyfriend?” Magnus blinks in surprise as he hears Jace’s snicker in the background and looks towards Alec, who was looking just as surprised. He waits for Alec to catch his eye before raising an eyebrow, as if to say well, what are we and as Alec’s eyes grew wider, Magnus forces himself to glance back at Max and clears his throat to answer when he feels Alec step closer to him, shoulders touching and hand lingering next to his, feeling the reverberation through Alec’s body as he says, “Yes, he’s my boyfriend.”

mutantgurls  asked:

How about an au where lance is galra and has to deal with prejudice from the people he's saving.

How about just stabbing me right now

Lance was proud of his heritage, he was Galra. He was part of one of last pure blood in the entire species. Lance was proud of that. Growing up he thought that being Galra was the best thing that could’ve happened to him. He was mistaking. 

-

Lance was around 14 when he realized that the Galra wasn’t what he was taught in school. By ready journals from his father (who was a high ranking soldier) Lance learned that he had been lied to his entire life. Lance couldn’t believe what he read. They killed people. They destroyed planets. For what? Zarkon?

Lance didn’t sleep that night. 

-

Lance was 17 when he ran away from home. He couldn’t deal with the lies anymore. He couldn’t deal with the fact that his father was the only in his family that knew the truth. He couldn’t deal with listening to one more ‘proud Galren’ speech. 

-

After bouncing from planet to planet Lance found himself as the Blue Paladin. He could tell that Allura wasn’t happy that Blue chose him, but no one had ever seen a stronger bond between paladin and lion before.  

Lance eventually learned to deal with Allura’s hard stare and unapproachable personality. At least Coran eventually opened up to him. 

Allura wasn’t the only aliens to jump the gun on Lance. It was not uncommon for Lance to have to dodge weapons from people that they saved. It also wasn’t uncommon for people to run inside the nearest builden they saw when Lance walk down a street with the other paladins. 

Lance eventually broke. 

-

Lance was flying back from a particularly hard mission. The city that they saved held a party in Voltrons name, however they “forgot” to invite the right leg. 

Lance sat in Blue while the other paladins have fun at their party. He was the first one to take off when the other paladins reached their lions. 

Allura’s voice blasted through the coms, “Great work out there paladins! Shiro you did an ex…” 

Lance tuned her out, she did this after every mission.  She would compliment everyone on what they did right but only criticize Lance on what he needed to work on. 

“Lance? Did you hear me? You can’t fly that rough with the blue lion. You’ll end up damaging her.” 

“Yes Princess.”

“I do not wish to schedule extras practices for you, but I will. You need to improve your skills so you are a valuable member of Voltron.” 

Lance snapped. “With all do respect Princess but can you stop? Every mission I have to deal with stares and people running away from me, all because of my skin color. They see purple and immediately run or treat me like garbage.” Lance swallowed. “What did I ever do to hurt you? The only people I have ever hurt is my family. That’s only because I left them without an excuse. So yes Princess I will fly better and continue to improve myself so I can kill Zarkon and leave you alone just like you want.” Lance turned off his coms. 

A few minutes later Lance landed Blue in her hanger and just sat there shaking. Allura enter the hanger but Blue activated her barrier. She wanted to protect from her pilot from anymore pain. 

*Cries* 

I love Galra Lance tbh 

I hope you like it!

Thank you for this!

Lego Batjokes Prompt #157

“Why does your drink order always have to be so complicated?”

“It’s not, I just have certain needs.”

“J…you asked for them to give you rainbow sprinkles but remove every color that’s not green.”

“The others make it taste weird!”

“It’s a soda, it’s going to taste weird with ANY sprinkles in it.”

“Don’t you judge me!”