yes i collect things like this

anonymous asked:

Is there a reason or reasons for why you will answer a ask with a gif or some words with a gif? I'm not complaining just curious :)

Two reasons, anon.

The light reason: I love gifs. I collect gifs. I adore them. Gifs are pretty damn one of the most incredible stuff since internet revolution. 

The serious reason: As awesome as this medium is, it comes with its limitations - namely, no body language or voice tenor or facial expression with which to judge a response like you do in real life. Something can be interpreted in so many different ways. For example, I could be saying “Yes” to something while doing this 

and someone can think I’m being too curt in that, or angry, or bitchy, or a gazillion other things. And unless I’m writing an essay in reply of an ask, adding gifs with short answers allows me to add more dimension to express myself without getting too wordy, which in turn avoids misinterpretations. Does that make sense?

Bonus: Gifs are an amazing tactical tool for evasion. You don’t wanna answer something but have to? Use a gif from your abundance of gifs. 

Perfect case in point:

Also, have I mentioned how totally awesome gifs are?

hey so i found out that not a bunch of people knew about this handy thing

but you can post anonymously on AO3!!! here’s how it works:

  • post it under this collection
  • everyone sees this work under “Anonymous” but you see your own work as “Anonymous [Your Username]”
  • the fic is STILL connected to your account, but nobody can trace it back to you + you still get comments in your inbox!
  • “is it like “Orphan”? 
  • nope! it’s not! the difference is when you Orphan a work, it’s no longer connected to your account and you can’t get alerts/comments.
  • “can I de-anon my work?”
  • yes you can! you can de-anon your work any time you want. all you have to do is remove your work from the anonymous collection!

if you are shy about posting, or scared of having a work connected back to your account, or even participating in an anon fest, this is PERFECT!

catfruits  asked:

Okay, so, I'd love to read a little something by you set in a world where Lavender made it out of the Battle of Hogwarts. Maybe not okay, but alive?

Once upon a time, Lavender had wanted everyone to look at her. She had been the kind of kid who put on dramatic plays for her stuffed animals, for any visitors to the house, and for any neighbor or passersby she could snag from the front yard.

Dating Ron in sixth year had been fun, most of all because everyone had kept sneaking glances at her. She had heard her name in curious whispers and she had grinned and giggled into Parvati’s shoulder.

Everyone was looking now, or pretending not to. She heard the whispers– oh it’s that poor Brown girl. Can you imagine, if it was your daughter, if it was you? Oh and she was so pretty before, too–what a pity–almost makes it worse, doesn’t it?

“You know Professor Lupin was a werewolf?” Hermione said, ten minutes into a very awkward lunch she had asked for in an equally awkward letter.

Lavender pushed a sauteed carrot through a little puddle of pasta sauce. “I think everyone heard about that one. Someone told the papers, or something, right?”

“Er, yes,” said Hermione. “Snape did. Which is what I– I mean, it’s related. Oh, I wish you’d gotten to talk to Remus about this. He was a lovely man.”

“Not as lovely as Lockhart,” Lavender said and she and Hermione spent a moment in wistful remembrance. “God, I feel old,” Lavender said.

“Anyway, Snape,” said Hermione. “Snape and Lupin. When Lupin was at school, Snape would make him a potion that would… tame him, on full moons. He could just curl up in his office and sleep by the fire. If you’re interested, I’m trying to learn how to brew it myself.”

Lavender shook her head. “We’re not friends,” she said. “Never have been. So why are you doing all this?”

Hermione looked like she was trying to say “we’re friends,” but she couldn’t get it out. “I was there, once, when Lupin turned without the potion. I was so scared. I thought we were going to die.”

“Afraid I’ll sniff you out on a dark night?” Lavender said, face twisting as she sank back into her wicker chair.

“No, I–” Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, and all the hesitation was making Lavender more and more uncomfortable. Even at eleven, Hermione had bulldozed through things. She didn’t waver. “I was so scared, but I think it was even worse for him. It hurt, but he looked so scared, too, I–”

“I know how it feels,” said Lavender, very quietly, and Hermione snapped her mouth shut. Lavender took a big sip from her tea. It was still steaming– it had not taken long to exhaust small talk, between the two of them.

Hermione cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m trying to do the right thing. I’m trying to make amends. I’m trying to– make things better. Do you want this?”

Lavender put her mug back down, shaking out scalded fingers, and said, “Yes.” Then, because her mother had raised her right, she said, “Thank you.”

“That sounds like a weird conversation,” said Parvati, whose door Lavender went and knocked on after she and Hermione had split the bill with the precise-to-the-Knut math of the vaguely acquainted and recently employed.

Lavender kicked through the fall of autumn leaves that had collected in front of the porch swing. “She was trying to be nice, I think.”

“She’s not very good at it,” said Parvati.

-

Her father wept. He tried not to but he was a crier, always had been.

“You were so brave,” said Lavender’s mother, cupping her cheeks in her warm hands and not even flinching at the scar tissue under her palms. “We are so proud.”

Lavender’s mother was a Muggleborn, daughter of a math teacher and a door-to-door salesman (“now there is a profession that requires some magic,” her grandfather used to tell her).

Her father was a wizard and he was trying hard not to cry, bending down to pet the dogs weaving between all their ankles. Lavender bent down, too, scratching behind Fiddlestick’s floppy ears while Mopsy cleaned her cheek forcefully. “Hey,” she said, and her father looked up, trying to firm his wobbly chin.

“You know I’m proud of you, too,” he said, trying not to tremble on it. “I just…” He reached out to squeeze her knee gently. “You did everything right. You did everything good. I’m so proud of you, chickadee.”

“I know,” she said, and she did. He was a Gryffindor, too.

-

It took Hermione more than a month to figure out the potion sufficiently well enough that she’d let Lavender try it. She was founding a non-profit for nonhuman rights, too, after all, as well as doing a fair few local speaking gigs, petitioning the Wizenagamot on a half dozen issues, getting an advanced degree, and supposedly, at some point, sleeping.

It took more than a month, so Lavender spent another night locked in her parents’ newly fortified cellar. She didn’t remember much, but she woke up with her throat sore and her nails ragged. The door was gouged from the inside. She wondered if she had been screaming. She wondered if that’s what the howls were. She felt like screaming, maybe, a little.

The door cracked open the moment the moon had dropped down below the horizon, outside. Her mother came in with a tray of her favorite breakfast foods– danishes and boiled eggs, steaming hot cocoa with the barest splash of bitter coffee in it.

Parvati came stomping down the stairs after her. “Graceful,” said Lavender. She winced at the roughness of her voice.

“Look who’s talking,” said Parvati. “Up, c'mon, eat your breakfast. We’re doing midnight manicures. Your dad says he’ll let us doll up his nails, too.”

The next full moon night, Lavender locked herself in the cellar again. “It should be safe,” Hermione had said. “It should. I mean, I’ve done all the tests. I followed all the instructions. It should work.”

Lavender didn’t remember, because she never remembered– she didn’t recall the cellar door unlocking and opening after ten minutes of post-moonrise silence. She didn’t recall Parvati Wingardium Leviosa-ing a comfy chair down the stairs, or her sitting down and pulling out a stack of Witch Weeklys, nor did she remember curling up on Parvati’s fuzzy button slippers and going to sleep.

But she did remember waking up in the morning, her cheek pressed into a soft pillow. She was tattered under a thick blanket, but she was human and looking upward at Parvati’s slack, sleeping face. Her dark plaits tumbled, curling, over the soft pink polka dots of her pajamas.

Lavender pulled herself up to sitting, stole the open Witch Weekly, and waited for Parvati to wake up.

-

“You’re going to be alright,” Professor Trelawney said and she wasn’t even looking at Lavender’s palm, just holding her hand tight in her cold fingers. “You’re going to be happy. You’re going to be fine. People are going to love you and stand by you and we will be there.”

The tower room was just the same as Lavender remembered it, down to the spicy-sweet tea and Trelawney’s big blinking eyes. Lavender squeezed her hands back. “I love you, too, professor.”

“You know, I think you can call me Sybil. It seems the time for it.”

Dean and Seamas’s housewarming for their ugly little first flat was a crowded mess, but the afterparty wasn’t. Lavender and Parvati came by with paint swatches, opinions, and hangover remedies. They ate greasy Chinese food on the floor, because it was about as comfortable as the couch.

They came back the next week, and the next. Parvati conjured a crackling fire in a big fruit bowl Dean’s mother had given him and they all sat around it like they were back at Gryffindor Tower’s hearths, procrastinating on homework.

On nights like that they sometimes talked about Hogwarts, but most of the time they didn’t. Dean had started drawing again and he walked them through his notebooks– his sisters, caricatures of the customers he dealt with in Ollivander’s wand shop, the snarky little comics he’d always scrawled in the edges of his notes. Parvati told them about the Auror trainees’ antics, going ut on their first field missions with their mentors. “All bravado and caffeine,” she said. “Bunch of show-offs.”

“So you fit in well, then?” Dean said.

“Nah, that’s Lav,” Parvati said. Dean and Seamas glanced warily at Lavender, but she just giggled and reached for another potsticker.

Seamas was considering going back to school. “Hermione’s been badgering me about it,” he said. “Says I have a talent for pyrotechnics, and there’s a whole major for fire magics at Brinxley.”

“What about you, Lav?” said Dean. “You still thinking about vet school?”

“What?”

“Oh, uh, that’s the Muggle word. Veterinarian– a medimagizoologist?”

“The schools aren’t too interested in a werewolf as a student,” Lavender said, shrugging.

“Not that that stops Hermione from showing up on the doorstep with half-penned anti-discrimination lawsuits she wants Lav to star in,” Parvati said.

“When does she sleep?” said Dean.

Little children asked about it in the street sometimes. “Mum, why’s her face like that?” “How come she’s walking all funny?”

Sometimes their parents turned to Lavender with eager bright eyes in the grocery store line, expecting her to answer. (“I got hurt, but I’m okay now.”) Sometimes they shushed their kids and gave her little apologetic half-smiles, glancing away from the raised lines of scar tissue. Sometimes they pulled their children closer to them and crossed to the other side of the street.

Harry Potter had a godson. Teddy Lupin was four the first time Lavender met him, just outside Gringotts. Teddy clung to Harry’s pants leg, peeking past his godfather’s hanging robe. “Why’d her face do that?” he said and Harry dropped a hand down into Teddy’s hair, which was bright green.

“She’s just like your dad,” said Harry.

“Puppy,” Teddy whispered, eyes wide with joy, and his skin shifted until scars stood out stark on his smiling chubby cheeks.

Lavender bit her lip and sank down to her knees in the street, holding out a hand. “Why aren’t you handsome, chickadee. What’s your name?”

Once, Lavender had wanted everyone to look at her.

She hated stories that told you to be careful what you wished for. Were you not supposed to want things? Was that the answer? She was nearly twenty two and she could make things fly with a few whispered words. She had lived through her seventh year at Hogwarts, had stepped out into that battle with her wand out and her eyes open. She had woken up–hurting, wounds tended, poison in her veins–to Parvati sleeping on Sybil’s shoulder at her bedside.

She had cried when they told her about the lycanthropy. She had cried over her bunny because a fox had gotten to it. Both times it had been with her face buried in Parvati’s shoulder and Parvati’s hands stroking her hair. She wished and she wanted– animals that never left you, bodies that never betrayed you.

Once, Lavender had wished that everyone would look at her, and now they were. Everyone was looking– so Lavender held Parvati’s hand in the grocery store at midnight, because they had both been craving green apples. Everyone was looking– so Lavender curled her hair and pinned it up, wore tank tops and little skirts on any day hot enough that she could get away with it, laughed aloud in public spaces. Everyone was looking– so Lavender knocked on Hermione Granger’s door one evening and asked, “What would it take to get me into magical vet school?”

Hermione had her bushy hair all tied back and a quill behind each ear. “A lot. There’s some statutes we’ve got to fight, and even if we can handle that you’ll still be under intense scrutiny for years.”

“I can work with that,” said Lavender, and Hermione grinned.

When Teddy marched down the aisle with the rings, his hair was a shimmering swirl of pink and purple to match the flowers woven into Parvati’s braids and Lavender’s curls.

The honeymoon would be short–a week in magical Paris in the townhouse of a Beauxbaton girl they’d befriended fourth year. Lavender had more medical textbooks packed into her luggage than anything else. Parvati’s bags were lined with half-finished reports that she’d owl to Auror headquarters from a rumpled Parisian morning, getting croissant crumbs in the bedsheets.

But for now the hall was filled with pink and purple blooms, white candles, familiar faces. Hermione stood in a violet bridesmaid’s dress, and Dean and Seamus in matching ties at Parvati and Lavender’s respective backs. Padma was luminescent with joy over Parvati’s shoulder. She had taken Lavender aside that morning for a short quiet walk in the mist and told her, “I know tonight’s what makes it official, but I’ve thought of you as my sister for years.”

When Lavender leaned forward and kissed her wife, her father burst into proud tears in the front row. He was a crier, always had been. Lavender buried her face in Parvati’s shoulder, smiling so hard she thought she might come apart. Her scars creased and puckered in her dimples, and she was beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

To be honest, the tumblr witchcraft community taught me more than any book on witchcraft I ever read.

4

In 1973, women in the New York Police Department were assigned to patrol duty for the first time, and the term “police officer” replaced the earlier designations of “police-woman” and “patrolman.” 

Jane Hoffer photographed a number of these women and collected their perspectives on their work. Ann Wilson (top photo) reflected:

When they transferred me to the taxi squad, I was primarily with the other girls, assigned to clerical duties. But I had a very innovative boss who one day said to me: “Are you afraid of the street?” and I said: “No.” And he said: “Would you like to try it?” And I said: “Yes.” And out I went. On patrol, in an unmarked car. And I enjoyed it! Once you get a taste of it, it’s like you can’t keep ‘em down on the farm any longer. Because you realize you are just as functional…you can do just about the same things. In fact, in some cases, you’re at an advantage.

Jane Hoffer. Ann Wilson, Sergeant Barbara Collins, [?] Walker, and Officer Peggy O’Shaughnessy. circa 1975-1978. On the Beat photograph collection. New-York Historical Society. 

I think I see an emerging Lance trait that I’m quite liking… Lance may not be a genius, but he seems really good with numbers.

  • he had no problem keeping track of that large number of coins/money that he and Pidge were collecting in the space mall fountain
  • that scene with Coran (during Trials of Mamora) when he calculates the remaining time, in altean terms no less, and Coran says “…yes that’s actually right!”
  • and I mean it would make sense that a sniper sharpshooter is good with math, because he has to calculate things under pressure and on the fly, like wind direction and speed, range, bullet curve, bullet drop, etc.
Rude Boy (1)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 2858

Warnings: Violence (some triggering scenes so please go away if this might make you uncomfortable). Lap dance.

Summary:  You go undercover with Bucky where you need to get a flashdrive from a HYDRA agent who frequents a men’s club. Your job is to give him a lap dance, get him knocked out, and steal the flash drive. Things don’t go as planned because someone gets a little jealous and decides to, quite literally, knock the agent out.

A/N: Because why not. So I had to put it in 2 parts again. If sexual harassment makes you uncomfortable, please go away. I don’t want to cause anyone any harm or pain. If you want to read the smut, it’s the next part.

Permanent Tag List:  @meganlane84 @mizzzpink @bringmetheemobands

Part 2

Originally posted by jerry-malina

Keep reading

Spider-man: Homecoming basically stole from Miles Morales

I’ve been seeing some willfully obtuse shit regarding this where Marvel fans essentially ignore that Peter stole traits from Miles’ origin and story. So here is the list of the ways it was done.

1. Ganke Lee/Ned Leeds

Of course, I had to start with the most obvious.

Not only that he looks like Ganke, but he fucking acts like Ganke. Has Ned Leeds been Asian before? Yes, in Spectacular Spider-man Tv Show, but it would be hilarious that Disney and Sony actually stole from Greg Weisman after they both collectively screwed him twice. The thing about this character is that he acts more like Miles’ Ganke than he does Peter’s Ned Leeds.

Peter’s Ned Leeds was never a close friend of Peter’s, let alone went to the same school as Peter. He was an acquaintance at best or a fellow work mate at the most. 

Ganke, however….

..Is Miles’ best friend. He was introduced in Miles’ second issue ever. He has been a constant character ever since. That is Miles’ number 1.

If you noticed that Ganke was playing with Legos, guess what hobby Ned Leeds’ favorite hobby is?

That is a Lego Deathstar. And before you say, well in the panels’ he’s just playing with it. He doesn’t seem that interested in Legos.

And why Legos are integral to Miles and Ganke? Miles is not as Science smart as Ganke or Peter Parker so he cannot remake the Web fluid. Ganke is that smart and Legos are suggested by Chemists as great toys children to play with because it helps them visualize molecular models. Ganke is as important to Miles’ Spider-man as he is to Miles.

For all intents and purposes, Ned Leeds probably is just his best friend on account of Peter not telling Ned Leeds that he is Spider-man. Speaking of which, the whole Peter having a confidant in on his identity situation…

He never had one. Peter never told anyone that he is Spider-man. He never once shared that info with Gwen Stacy, Mary Jane(she always knew, but never revealed that she knew), Harry Osbourne, or anyone. In Ultimate Spider-man, Peter did confide in Mary Jane, but that was a case of her being his only friend.

Miles only revealed his identity to Ganke and eventually his father.  Well in the case of Ganke, Miles never had to reveal anything because Ganke was there to help him become Spider-man. It just the scene how Ned leeds found out.

Look familiar?

The same parallel as Peter’s.

Also, Ganke is girl obsessed like Homecomings’ Ned Leeds is. And yes, you are a little too infatuated with the opposite sex if you know by heart what a woman has worn previously and what she hasn’t.

The first thing Ganke does when Jessica Drew presents Miles with his new costume is to declare that he will start talking to girls.

After a deep conversation about what to do with Miles’ thieving ass Uncle, Ganke is pressed to go with Miles’ not to provide comfort, but to stare at his mom(who is really attractive).

As soon as he meets Mary Jane Watson and Gwen Stacy, Ganke immediately switches gears and starts hitting on them.

Ganke making a gift out of Legos for Gwen Stacy.

And it working…

Ganke trying to use Miles to hook him up with Dagger, and refusing to believe anyone is too hot for him.

Ganke is girl obsessed. It’s part of his charm.

So Peter took Miles’ best friend. Great.

2. Miles motivation of proving he is a superhero

I remember when I called this out and some moron said Peter had to prove himself to the Fantastic Four in his debut. No.

He wasn’t trying to prove himself with the Fantastic Four. He wanted to join the Fantastic Four so he can earn money.

The FF did not have an opinion on him, except Ben who did not like Spider-man for being a show off like Johnny. 

Just for your closure…

Miles’ however, had to go through a proving ground to not just be Spider-man, but also be qualified as a hero.

Instead of Tony Stark being the one supervisor of Miles, it is Captain America. It’s a long story as to why Cap feels the need to restrict Miles, but he is the one Miles has to prove his worth to.

After fighting with Captain America, Miles pops the question.

And to tie it into the Civil War, Miles’ asks to be the Ultimate equivalent of the Avengers, the Ultimates.

This is not a coincidence. You may say that they needed Peter to join MCU somehow, but how they are going about it is eerily similar to how they went about it with Miles. Peter never once had to gain recognition from his fellow superheroes. He never once had to ask to join the Avengers because they respected him as a hero. Miles’ did.

This is not the first time Peter took this from Miles either. The Ultimate Spider-man cartoon has Peter,again, taking Miles familiarity with Nick Fury and forming a super team just like Miles Morales. It’s annoying.

3. Younger Aunt May/Parental figure and having stability

Before I start this, yes, Ultimate Spider-man had a younger Aunt May and Uncle Ben. I know this. You seen her above when she is talking to Miles and you see her when Gwen kissed Ganke. But she did not look like this.

Now Marissa Tomei is a young looking 52 year old woman. Girl fucking looks good. Slay.

But Ultimate Aunt May did not look like she was pulling dates off tinder. Ultimate Aunt May also did not stay in an upscale Queen suite. Peter was not raised in an economically stable environment. There was always bills to be paid and Aunt May did not work.

Miles however lives in Brooklyn. His mom is a nurse and his father a cop. It is a stable household.

As you can see, Rio is hot!

Anyways, what contributed to Peter’s anxiety and neuroticism was that he never had a stable household. They were always just above the red. With Ben gone, Aunt May had to take care of the household in spite of Peter’s new adventures.  Peter is lower middle class. Miles’ is middle class when it comes to living in Brooklyn.

4. The charter school

This especially pissed me off. 

Miles goes to an advanced charter school for gifted children. How he did so?

You ever see the documentary, “Waiting for Superman?”

Okay, so there is a literal lottery for gifted urban youth(usually youth of color) for them to attend advanced schools. If they do not get the right lottery, then they are sent back to attend the shitty Inner City schools where they most likely won’t excel in life. They will most likely excel if they go to Charter School. It sucks, but that is a reality youth face.

Miles had to enter this lottery to attend his charter school(with the number 42, Jackie Robinson’s number to mark the significance). Peter has never been placed in a situation where his race and environment did not cheat him out of a future or reduce his options. His intelligence has always gotten him out of academic situations and guaranteed his success. Miles had to enter a fucking lottery to ensure his future was stable. And that is highly fucked up that Peter just took that trait from Miles without the significance of it being appreciated and realized.

That is four things that Spider-man: Homecoming leeched from Miles Morales and his story. And people want to act dumb as if these characteristics have always been attributed to Peter. Bull fucking shit. They wanted a relative character that was not presented on screen or the audiences did not already know. They exhausted Peter’s story, characters, and even abilities through 5 movies, several cartoon, and several video games and a fucking live action play. 

What pisses me off is that people have called Miles the inferior Spider-man or not the real Spider-man, yet Peter, this motherfucker, is literally taking aspects from Miles and no one is calling it out. You love everything about Miles when it is on a white character, huh?

It is also an aspect of Marvel canabalizing off of legacy characters. DC gave Wally a chance to be the Flash over Barry Allen. DC gave several Robins a chance and did not create an amalgamation of Robin. DC gave Jon Stewart a chance ahead of Kyle Rainer and Hal Jordan. Fuck, Marvel you gave Scott Lang a chance over Hank Pym in spite of making Hank Pym’s main villain the villain of Avengers 2(And Hank Pym fans did not deserve that). 

We heard every excuse in the book as to why Miles could not be the first to enter MCU when Peter’s story has been told 5 fucking times on screen.  Miles Morales was trending when it was announced that Marvel was making a Spider-man film. People wanted his story to be told. And we heard every excuse in the book as to why Miles could not be selected. There was fucking press release that basically said Peter Parker had to be white yet you don’t mind diversifying the rest of the cast. We heard that his story was too new, but that did not stop you from making Robbie Reyes the new Ghost Rider. That Miles is a legacy. Yet you made Scott Lang, the legacy to Hank Pym, the first Ant Man on screen while acknowledging that Scott Lang is the second Ant Man. You just did not want him on screen because Miles is not white. End of story. You liked his story so much that you attributed to Peter. You took his cast. You took his financial situation. You took his precarious school situation. You took one of his arc. And you gave them to Peter. By doing that, you all but ensured that Miles would be stuck in his comic book and not being getting a damn thing.

The only reason I am interested in this film is Zendaya because black women, even bi-racial women, are hardly romantic leads in super hero in general. They are rarely presented as such and that sucks. I really don’t are about this movie outside of that. It looks good, but whatever.

Today our HUGE Amiami box came and it’s two months of backed up YOI stuff (plus stuff from other series but this post is focusing on just YOI), so here is an absolutely massive loot post. I  think this literally almost doubled our YOI collection.

First off is the Chara-Forme Yuri on Ice Acrylic Strap Collection Vol.3 by Empty! These are all Kiss and Cry themed and in my opinion this is one of the cutest sets they’ve released. Look even Georgi is adorable lol. 

This is the Yuri!!! on Ice Rubber Strap Collection Pair by Movic. There’s actually one non-pair in there as you can see lol. Yes they did remember the ring on the Victuuri one, by the way. Recent merch has been getting better about this, thankfully. I really like this set a lot (especially the bottom two. IDEAL). The only thing I’m not a fan of is how the ‘transparent strap’ style of them washes out the color in their faces a bit so you can’t see their blushes from the original art! 

The  Chara-Forme Yuri on Ice Acrylic Strap Collection Vol.2 by Empty! These are all based on the ED theme. The Yuuri in this set is blessed by angels. I don’t make the rules. It’s just true. 

Yuri!!! on Ice Clear Rubber Strap by Sol International. These are really cute and creative and all the straps have different colored sparkly backgrounds!! The top three are obviously themed to go together (both Yuuri and Victor are singing omg), and Yuuri is talking to a tiny Phichit on the bottom one of him. Also Victor and Yuuri as JOINT HASETSU AMBASSADORS is the best thing I never knew I needed. 

Yuri!!! on Ice Choko Kawa Rubber Strap by Sega. I really like the art in this set. It’s really soft and the thick lines are nice!! Also the skating Yurio has a sweet expression, which is rare but good. 

es Series nino Rubber Strap Collection by Kotobukiya. Chris’s pose is so extra. Haha I don’t have much to say here. They’re cute. 

Yuri!!! on Ice YuraYura Keychain by Bushiroad. For some reason my photos of all of these turned out really poorly, so you get these photos where the ones I’m selling are cut off, which I guess doesn’t really matter. I wonder why they put Yuuri in that promo outfit he never wears in so much stuff. I mean it’s a nice outfit but. Anyway, I ended up really LOVING these. The colors are super bright and the art is adorable!! Also no photos but they’re just as detailed on the back (for example Yurio’s hair is braided in the back on the keychain). 

Yuri!!! on Ice Tojikore Acrylic Keychain Vol.2 by TwinCre. So these are actually keychains, but they came with plastic stands, so you can display them as acrylic stands as well which is the BEST IDEA EVER. I love this so much and I dearly hope more keychain sets do it because it is so clever and handy. @abarero figured out a really, really awesome way to display our excessive amounts of keychains, but even then, this is always going to be better to me than hanging up yet another set of keychains. ANYWAY, every single keychain in this set is a gift; from banquet dancing to katsudon pirozhki to just… all of them. It’s so good. Absolutely one of my top three faves released for the series so far. 

Here’s keychains that came by themselves!

The History Maker Yuuri and the ending theme sparkler Yuuri were ACTUALLY amiami exclusive bonuses that came with the Kiss and Cry keychains and the Ending Theme keychains, but since they packed them separately I forgot to include them in those pictures. Whoops. 

Anyway, the big chibi keychains of Victor, Yuuri, Yurio, JJ, and Otabek are by Avex and they’re chibi versions of the Comiket exclusive release keychains. JJ, Otabek, and Yurio belong to @pantacular. 

Charappuccino Phichit is by Birthday. I actually did have Victor and Yuuri ordered too, but they were a couple of the items that got canceled, and they were out of stock. I actually did manage to find them on another site and have reordered them, but they’re not here yet. This keychain is so precious. 

The Tsumamare Victor and Yuuri are the little keychains hanging by their shirts. They’re by Cospa. They’re so cute and expressive. Especially the Yuuri! 

Bocchi-kun are by ACG and they’re the little tiny pouty keychains. They’re super cute, but I admit I’m a little disappointed by how tiny they are. Though I’m familiar with the line, I’ve never ordered a Bocchi-kun before, so I was unaware of their size. I don’t regret ordering them, and I’d still have gotten them (it’s not like they were pricey), but yeah, small. 

That single Yuuri is a Jelly Charm by ACG. And lastly is the Oshikura Victor by Orange Rouge. This actually came out in January, but I missed ordering it. Victor and Yurio are relatively easy to find, but Yuuri seems to be sold out everywhere, so Victor is having to wait. I did find Yuuri somewhere, but he’s a bit overpriced. It’s not TOO bad though, so I’ll probably go ahead and bite the bullet and get him instead of having to resort to bidding on auctions.  

NON KEYCHAIN LOOT.

In front, Love&Life and On Ice Victor and Yuuri cellphone stands from Atelier Magi because they’re great. Behind that, Cospa’s Vkusno! rice bowl. Next to that, Gyugyutto cushion straps of Victor and Yuuri by Bell House (Victor gets katsudon but poor Yuuri doesn’t lol). Behind them, Victor and Yuuri mugs by Gift. And inside the mugs, Victor and Yuuri Nitotan plush by Takara Tomy ARTs (which are super cute and nicely detailed). 

Here’s the inside of the rice bowl:

‘sup from Yuuri

Okay here we go. More non-keychain loot.

The Playful Mind (that’s the brand) collaboration stuff was cute as shit so I picked up some stuff from it. Good stuff, high quality, adorable art. 

There’s two (faux) leather trays, a coin purse, a phone case, and two cord holders. 

Above that is two pass cases of Victor and Yuuri being dapper in suits by A3! There were keychains released by Animega with this art, but they are near IMPOSSIBLE to get, and I’m resigned to the fact that it will never happen, so when I saw these pass cases, I decided to snag them instead. You can use them as keychains, so they essentially serve the same purpose.  

There’s Victor and Yuuri hair clips by Emu, which I’ll actually probably sell because they are big! I thought they’d be little ones judging by the price, but they’re big and I have short hair, so we’ll see about that. Above that is three sets of can badges, all by Movic. Then there’s the super cute 2016-2017 School Calendar, which I’m so pleased stands up on its own. 

Down below is three pens. Two of them are those kitschy ‘floaty’ ones where a figure floats down the pen, in this case it’s Victor and Yuuri ‘skating down’ a rink in the pen. They’re cute. The other one is a really cool, elegant pen themed after Yuuri’s FS outfit. 

Some closer up pics: 

OKAY LAST BUT NOT LEAST:

The softe things.

Usually I crop images to just the merchandise but like hell I was going to crop out my cat. Oxford now graces this post with his remarkable presence. 

Makkachin tissue box cover by Avex Pictures. Just as fluffy as all the rumors have foretold. 

Then! The Victor and Yuuri pillowcases by M’s. Extremely soft fabric!! Would recommend for resting head upon. The picture is kind of a bad angle and frankly they BOTH look weird in this photo because of it but… I think, upon seeing it in person, the complaints about Victor’s face are very unwarranted. He actually looks really good and sweet and gentle in person and very much like Victor? The problem is parts of the rest of his body, where the anatomy is wonk (but this is just the pillow, so it’s only shoulders up and you don’t get that). And Yuuri looks great of course.  

ANYWAY, that’s end of this massive post. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I’ll have a sales post up pretty soon.  ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

  • Travis: Now, is there still like a pile of mannequins?
  • Griffin: Yeah, it’s behind [the Shark Tank] but yes.
  • Travis: Okay, cool.
  • Griffin: You gonna take a turn off to just go get some arms or…?
  • Travis: Yeah, in fact I am! Look, at this point the magic people seem to have this shit down. All I’m gonna do is, what, hit a tank with my ax? No no no. I’m gonna do what Magnus does best and go pull the arms off some things.

Sometimes, Noora doesn’t understand how this is her life.

“Is he dead?”

She sighs and takes another sip of lukewarm (read: fucking freezing) coffee. Her legs, which had been folded up since about 3 in the morning, have finally gone from the charming pins and needles to just straight numb. Eskild is at the doorway of the living room, (his own steaming mug of coffee mocking her) as he nods to the lump on the couch. 

“Not yet.” The boy on the couch gives a small snuffle and Noora raises an eyebrow, “though he might wish he was when he wakes up.”

Eskild sighs nostalgically, “Those were the days.”

Those were the days

Noora snorts because she has been Eskild’s roommate for a while and she can assure all inquiring parties that those days were far from over. “Eskild, you literally crawled in the doorway Friday night. Like hands and knees crawled.”

“Touche, mon amour.” He blows on the rim of his mug, “So is this a thing now? Are we just collecting drunk strays?”

You started it, she wants to say, but it feels wrong to do so without Isak here to flip her off. But speaking of.

“Favor from our favorite wayward roommate.”

“Ah yes, how is baby Isak? I miss him.” Noora opens her mouth to respond but before the words can come, there is a faint groan, and then the boy on the couch wrinkles his nose. Eskild backs up, clutching his chest, and half hides behind the wall, “Never mind. Have fun with drunkie over there.”

“Last time you helped me with Elias!”

He was positively aghast, “Last time there was potential for a romantic connection! This is Jonas. I’d say Isak was straight before I’d say Jonas was… not straight. Now I have to go- my bunny slippers are not going to be a victim of boy vomit again.”

And with that, he disappears and Noora is left on her own. Perfect.

Jonas groans again, looking all too pitiful under wild and frizzy curls. Long dark lashes (and fuck Jonas for getting long dark eyelashes while she has to put on layers of mascara to look like she has lashes) flutter open, then there is a another groan, flutter closed, a louder groan, and finally flinch back open again.

Noora untangles herself from the chair and hovers over Jonas’s face, “If you throw up on me, I’m going to blast Justin Bieber so loud, he’ll be ringing in your ears for days.”

Jonas’s eyes were bloodshot and hazy, but they were attempting to focus. “Noora? What the fuck?”

“You’re hungover.”

“I think I’m still drunk,” he squints, “do you have a twin or am I seeing double?”

Noora hands him a glass of water, and when he spills it all over himself, holds it to his mouth, “This isn’t how i pictured my Saturday morning going.”

Jonas hums in agreement, and pulls away from the water, “Thanks.”

He leans back for a few moments, dark eyes flicking back and forth over Noora’s face under even darker eyebrows and Noora like, blinks and looks away, setting the abandoned water glass off to the side. 

“Huh,” Jonas says after a moment, but the sound is almost garbled. When Noora arches an eyebrow in question, shaky fingers come up, grazing over strands of escaped blonde hair from Noora’s bun, “Your hair is so beautiful.”

Then Jonas jerks back, takes a breath, and pukes all over the side of the couch and onto Noora’s favorite flower socks.

She has her phone connected to the loud-speaker blasting out ‘Baby’ as loud as it can go in seconds.

Anonymous asked: (jock!dean & nerd!cas) Cas sending Dean one of those school anon flower valentines day things with a little personalized note (cough cough mean girls) but thinking he’s not going to notice his specially. Little does he know Dean sent one to him as well.

Castiel was staring at the bulletin board, his mouth dry and his heart hammering against his rib cage as he read the new announcement.

Valentine’s Day 2016 at Lawrence High

Anonymously send a rose with personal note to the one you desire, our cupid will deliver the message on Friday February 12th.’

There was more information about how and where to leave your message, but Castiel knew that he had to talk himself out of this horrible idea before he gave in. Because he was this close to actually doing it. This close to acting on his feelings, to throw caution to the wind. This close to finally doing something about his crush on the most popular guy in school.

“Hey, Cas!” A cheerful voice called his name from not too far away, and suddenly an arm was casually draped around his shoulder. “I can already tell what you’re thinking, and I think that you should go for it.”

Charlie Bradbury, Castiel’s best friend, was wiggling her eyebrows at him, nodding at the school’s special Valentine’s offer.

Castiel sighed, shaking his head. “It’s pointless, we both know that.”

“Oh come on, you won’t know for sure if you don’t try!” Charlie countered immediately, one of her hands ruffling Castiel’s hair. “And honestly, if I have to watch you pine after Dean Winchester for another year, I will end up needing therapy.”

“It is not funny.” Castiel grumbled, giving his friend a sideways glare.

“You’re right, it’s not.” Charlie agreed. “Therapy costs a fortune.

“Charlie!” Castiel warned, lightly smacking his friend’s arm as he continued to glower at her.

Charlie surrendered, holding up her hands, calling a truce.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry! I’m just saying, as a friend, that this is your chance, Cas. And it’s anonymous, so what do you have to lose, really?”

Castiel sighed, staring at the bulletin board again as he pondered that question.

“My sanity?” He offered after some time had passed.

Charlie shrugged. “Even better. If it doesn’t work out you can join me in therapy, maybe we’ll get a group discount.”

When Castiel reached out to reprimand her with another gentle slap to the arm, she moved out of the way before he could strike.

“Look, all I’m saying is, think about it. And before you start the whole he’s-popular-and-I’m-not argument again… It shouldn’t matter, as far as I know, Dean’s nice to everyone.” Charlie said, more serious now. “I gotta get to class, but I’ll see you at lunch, alright?”

Castiel muttered a goodbye in return when Charlie turned around and took off, feeling anxious as he considered the idea once more. The wise thing would be to forget about it altogether…

~

One week later, Castiel was deeply regretting the decision he’d made.

February 12th. He froze in his seat the second the door to the classroom opened in the middle of Math class. In walked Garth Fitzgerald, the janitor. Some students said that Garth wasn’t right in the noodle. When looking at him now, dressed in nothing but a giant white diaper with a pair of fake wings and a bow and arrow to match, Castiel suspected that they were right.

“I come bearing gifts.” Garth declared in a dramatic tone, holding up his right hand, the one that held at least fifteen red roses.

To make matters worse, of course it had to happen during the only class that Castiel shared with Dean. This was a scene taken directly from one of Castiel’s worst nightmares.

Garth was handing out roses here and there, and Castiel bit his lip, sinking lower in his chair, mortified. Jo Harvelle got one, and so did Victor Henriksen. Meg Masters got two, and Meg’s friend Ruby had scored three.

“Dean Winchester, six for you, the school record.” Garth whistled as he dumped the roses on Dean’s desk with an elegant hand gesture.

Dean frowned, green eyes narrowing. He looked sincerely surprised.

Castiel breathed out for the first time in what felt like ages, feeling a little defeated. Dean got six, of course. It wasn’t the first time that Castiel was reminded of just how doomed his infatuation with the guy truly was. He made up his mind there and then; he was never going to confess that one of those roses was his doing. Dean would never know that one of the messages came from Castiel, and everything would go back to normal.

“Castiel Novak, one for you.”

Castiel flinched when Garth’s voice was practically singing his name. Next thing he knew, a rose was placed on his desk. Almost all of Castiel’s classmates were staring at him, shock painted on their faces. Dean wasn’t one of them though, he was stiffly staring down at the roses on his own desk.

Garth had already moved on to another victim, and Castiel blinked at his rose, dumbstruck. There had to be some kind of misunderstanding. No one ever even paid attention to shy Castiel Novak with the dorky glasses.

Curious nonetheless, Castiel discreetly checked the card.

‘You’re awesome, don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise. PS: I think I could drown in your eyes, and I wouldn’t even mind if did.’

Castiel tried to hide a laugh. This had ‘Charlie’ written all over it. This was a typical case of Castiel’s best friend trying to make him feel better. He could appreciate the joke, and he was kind of thankful that she’d taken the time to make him feel like less of an outcast.

He decided to go find her as soon as class ended, so that he could thank her.

~

Charlie was at the library, using one of the school computers. Castiel grinned as he hugged her from behind, surprising her.

“Whoa, Cas. What was that for? You never hug unless it’s a matter of life or death.” Charlie accused as she turned her head, dragging her eyes away from the screen. “The last time you hugged me was back in kindergarten when my cat died.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. So perhaps she was right, but that was not the point.

“Very funny… I just wanted to thank you for getting me a rose, that was nice of you. The part about drowning in my eyes was impressive, especially considering that you’re not even into males.”

Charlie’s hands slid away from the keyboard, and she turned in her chair to stare up at Castiel, appearing to be completely clueless.

“Rose?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “That sure as hell wasn’t me… I sent you a friendship card, it should be waiting for you in the mail when you get home.”

There was no doubt that Charlie was speaking the truth; Castiel knew his friend well enough to detect when she was lying.

Castiel’s blood turned to ice. Someone had pranked him. Great. Predictable, but embarrassing all the same. Without thinking, Castiel rushed out of the library. He heard Charlie call after him, but he didn’t stop, aiming for some fresh air and some alone time instead…

~

It was chilly outside, even though the sun was struggling to break through the clouds. Castiel shivered as he took in the empty school yard. It wasn’t time for lunch break yet, which meant that he was alone. Perfect.

He made his way over to a group of trees, sitting down on a wooden bench that was still slightly damp. Putting down his bag, he took a deep breath. Now that he could think clearly, he realized that he was overreacting. It had simply been a prank, and whoever had pulled it, at least the message hadn’t included any mean or harmful words…

“Cas?”

Castiel nearly fell off the bench at the sound of that voice, deep and warm, calling his name so casually.

“Hello…” Castiel mumbled as he looked up into troubled green eyes. “Dean.” He added in an even smaller voice when he realized that this was probably bad news.

Like this, Dean was towering over him, and Castiel felt the need to get up to his feet as well, so that they at least were on the same level. When he did just that, Dean was even closer, and Castiel took a tiny step back.

Did Dean know? Had someone found out about Castiel sending him that rose? Castiel felt sick to his stomach at the mere thought.

“Can I talk to you, Cas?”

For reasons unknown, Dean sounded nothing like the confident guy that Castiel knew, and it was a bit unsettling.

“I… Yes, I guess.” Castiel permitted helplessly, trapped by both those eyes and the intense look on that handsome face.

Dean nodded, but stayed silent for a brief amount of time, as if collecting his thoughts. Castiel shamelessly used that pause to count the freckles on Dean’s nose, until he caught himself in the act and swiftly averted his eyes.

“Look, I think this whole anonymous thing with the roses is one big load of crap.” Dean suddenly stated out of the blue, breaking the silence and making Castiel look up at him again. “I mean, why send someone a message if you’re not even gonna tell them it’s you, right? Besides, it’s weird and awkward…”

Oh no… Dean knew. It felt like Dean’s gaze was boring right into Castiel’s very soul, digging up all of the secrets that he’d tried to keep hidden for so long.

Castiel contemplated running away and hiding in a cave forever, or moving to the other side of the country. Anything, something to get away from Dean Winchester, as well as impending humiliation. But Castiel was not a coward, never had been. He stood a little straighter, squaring his shoulders, a confession on his lips, just waiting to spill out.

“I’m sorry, Dean…” He apologized, loud and clear. “Sending you that rose was stupid, I know it was irrational, and I should’ve known that it would make you uncomfortable. I wasn’t thinking…”

The dumbfounded expression on Dean’s face that followed after, was not what Castiel had anticipated. This entire conversation was getting more confusing by the minute.

You? No Cas, I was talking about me!” Dean blurted out, face turning pink. “I sent you a rose… I think you’re cute, and smart, and your eyes are just… they’re gorgeous, okay? That’s what I’m trying to tell you, because otherwise what even would the point be, huh?”

Dean was grinning sheepishly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he waited for Castiel to say something.

Castiel couldn’t believe what he was hearing, shocked that Dean even knew he existed, let alone that he’d taken an interest in Castiel.

“So did you… Was I the only one who got a rose from you?” Castiel eventually questioned, not knowing what else to say.

Dean put his hand over his heart in mock offense. “Of course! I think one Valentine’s date at a time is enough, don’t you.” He winked at Castiel, and Castiel was officially lost.

“Y-You want to ask me on a date, Dean?”

“Yeah, I do…” Dean replied with a grin. “But first, I wanna know which one of those six messages was yours.”

Again, Castiel was reminded of his competition, but he suddenly felt less nervous. This was Dean, captain of the football team, the popular kid, yet he seemed genuinely vulnerable when talking to Castiel. It made Castiel confident enough to tease him a little.

“How about you guess which one it was?” Castiel said, tilting his head as he challenged Dean.

Dean weighed his options, squinting at Castiel. “Okay… Do I get a bonus if I guess it right away?”

Castiel laughed at Dean’s obvious enthusiasm. “You’ll see.”

Again, Dean was staring at him, as if trying to lift the answer straight from Castiel’s mind. Castiel gladly took yet another opportunity to map Dean’s freckles.

“Ha!” Dean shouted triumphantly, almost making Castiel jump. “It was the message that compared my freckles to the constellations, wasn’t it!”

Damn.

Lucky for Dean, Castiel wasn’t a sore loser. Dean had earned that bonus, fair and square. In a moment of extreme bravery, Castiel stood on his tiptoes and lightly kissed Dean on the lips. When Dean pulled him closer and started kissing him back, Castiel could tell that this was going to be the best Valentine’s day ever.

5

Some Fates doodles I did during my Hoshido play. All the cool ladies (also trolling Azura)

Also news for the French friends! I will attend the Japan Expo in July, where you will find me, some nerdy Fire Emblem merch and a doodles collection booklet full of things like this! :D Stay tuned for more infos!

Illuminate

Summary: Erica convinces Derek to go to an acapella performance with her. Things go better than he could have ever expected.

Notes: I went and saw an acapella performance last weekend, and it inspired me to write a little fic! And I’ve been wanting to write singer!Stiles for a while, so it worked out well. (On AO3)


“Come on, Derek. Please?” Erica says pleadingly, wrapping her hands around his bicep and squeezing. She leans her head against his shoulder for good measure, looking up at him sadly. “I know you’re working on being a hermit, but please come out with me to this one little thing.”

This method works pretty much every time, and Derek sighs. “Why don’t you get one of your other friends to go with you?” he asks. Erica is far more of a social butterfly than he is, he knows she has more friends than the two he’s managed to make.

“They’re not into acapella vocal performances,” Erica says.

“And what makes you think that I am?” Derek asks, eyebrow quirked.

Keep reading

All In My Head (C.H.)

Originally posted by hemmoxhood96

A/N: The end is shit (well the whole thing is but I haven’t posted anything in a while so y’all just need to bear with me). I was struggling on how to end it and I still don’t like it, but I needed to post someting and this was already 14 pages on word. Link to the song below.

Masterlist || Ask

Song

*****

“So do you want to come with me on tour this time?” Michael asked me as we lounged in his room playing games on his Xbox.

I didn’t divert my eyes from the screen as I answered his question. “Duh! You promised me that I could join you and the boys on this tour if Mom said I could and she did.”

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure. Are you okay though with staying on a tour bus with four grown, yet immature, boys for a whole eight months?”

“I do just fine now when the boys come over practically every day.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true, but you have to realize that you can’t just leave or they can’t leave, unlike how it is here.”

“I understand that and I know I definitely want to tour with you guys. I want to travel around the world and do tourist type of things, you know, collect magnets and take cliché photos.”

Michael chuckled. “It’s not all that it’s cracked up to be.”

“Hey, you’ve toured the world like seven times. Of course, it won’t be as exciting as the first time.”

“Four times.” Michael corrected me.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, big difference.”

Keep reading

Language of Love (Lafayette x Reader)

Requested by anon: sorry to bother u but: readerxlaf, the reader works at a book store and laf is trying to get books to improve his english but keeps coming back even after he speaks english very well

TW: Poorly translated French, Swearing in French

A/N: I feel like this was really sloppy. I am so sorry.

Masterlist

Lafayette wonders the large bookstore, dragging his fingers across the spines of the books that he can’t read. He picked up a few words when he arrived, but he still barely knows how to say “Hello”. He looks at the covers for some sort of picture to represent translating. Since he isn’t paying attention to where he is going, he bumps into one of the most beautiful people he has ever laid eyes on.

You bend down to pick up the book you dropped. “Do you need help?”

“Oui,” he answers.

You nod slowly. “Translate?”

He nods frantically. “Oui.”

You smile and motion for him to follow you. You guide him to the front where the reference books are. He flips through a few of the books to make sure that they actually are French and heads to the front desk. After the old lady in front of him leaves, he approaches you with a stack of books. You smile when you see him. “I see you found some books.”

He gives you a confused look.

You giggle. “Hopefully, these will help.”

~~~

You wipe down the counters one last time before you have to open the store. You walk passed the door to put the rag away and see the same man who bought the French books about a week ago standing outside. You smile and open the door for him.

“Bonj-or hello,” he greets.

“I see the books helped.”

“Yes, but I was wondering if you had anything else.”

You will admit, his English is still broken, but you are able to understand him. You nod and lead him to the same section.

“Mer-thank you.”

It doesn’t take long before he approaches the front desk with a stack almost as big as last week’s. You laugh and shake your head slightly. “You’re going to speak better English than me before long.”

He chuckles. “Personne ne peut être meilleur que vous.”

You raise your eyebrows to ask what he said, but he shakes his head and swipes his card to pay for the books.

Not even a week later he comes back at opening. “Hello again,” you greet. “I assume you know where the language books are.”

“Yes, but that’s not what I’m here for.” He speaks slowly, trying to process the words.

“What do you need help with?”

“Mon ami, Alex, l'anniversaire est- oh, désolé. Je veux dire, my friend’s birthday is soon, and I have no idea what he would like.”

“What does he do?” you ask in an attempt to be helpful.

“Write.”

You giggle. “That’s it?”

“Mostly.”

You lead him to the back of the store and show him the collection of journals and other things that Alex may like.

“Thank you!” he calls as he runs out the door.

~~~

You walk around the store, looking for the French man. You still don’t know his name, but he came in almost every week for a few months. You knew he had to speak perfect English by now, but you never questioned him because, frankly, you enjoyed spending time with him. It’s been a week since you’ve seen him.

Suddenly, you hear a familiar French accent. “Alex, please don’t embarrass me.”

The other man, Alex, starts laughing. “You know me well enough to know that I will definitely embarrass you.”

“Why did I ask you again?”

“Beats me.”

You walk closer to the pair and watch as the French man lowers his voice and points to you. Alex nods and walks over to you.

You smile. “Hi, do you need any help?”

He turns so his back is to his friend and you are facing him. “Listen, my friend, the one who owns everything that remotely translates French, has a huge crush on you.”

You blush and smile.

“It seems like you feel the same. So, since he doesn’t have the guts to ask you out, I’m going to. I just need you to pretend to flirt with me, then give me your number. Knowing Laf, he’ll get really jealous and ask you out. Sound good?”

You stare at him for a few minutes, trying to process everything he just said. You press a kiss to his cheek, causing him to blush at the unexpected contact, and write your number on his hand before walking away, swinging your hips, leaving the men dumbfounded. Laf doesn’t wait for Alex to come back before following you. “(Y/N),” he calls, prompting you to turn around. “What did Alex tell you?”

“That you liked me,” you confess as though you were back in high school.

“So you kissed him?”

You shake your head and sigh. “He said that I should make you jealous. It seems as though his plan worked.”

“Cette putain de…” he mutters. “Pardon, my French.”

You laugh, causing him to smile. “I would much rather kiss you.”

“Then, could I have your number?”

You give him a toothy grin. “Oui.”

You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away

(For the record, the song by the Beatles is fantastic and I recommend. That being said, this is not like the song. Instead it’s basically just the entirety of their relationship)


“Chloe?” The redhead tilted her head up from the textbook she was currently staring at in Barden’s best little coffee shop, turning to face the boy who said her name.

“Yeah, Jesse?” Chloe asked, a sweet smile painted on her lips, one that meant for both peace and war regarding her Beca.

(Her Beca, she mentally scolded herself, noting the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing they had going on hardly made the brunette hers.)

“I was wondering if you’d help me? With uh… Beca, actually. I know you two are close and I was wondering if maybe you’d help me ask her out?” Jesse nervously bounced on the heels of the shoes, grasping a textbook in one hand and a coffee in the other.

The thing about Jesse was he was a good kid. He was sweet and funny and nice. And although he had been pestering Beca for the majority of the year, the redhead couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. It wasn’t like the brunette who was the object of his affection hated him. They hung out willingly every once in a while from what Chloe remembered. It’s just that Chloe had a good thing going with Beca. Secret, private, and sweet. This was a grey area.

“Oh um… I don’t really know why you’d want my help,” Chloe said, nervously smiling at the boy.

“Well I just know she talks about you a lot. How you helped recruit her for the Bellas and everything way back at the start of the year. It’s the end of the year now and… you’re a senior and she’s a freshman. I just figured you had some mentoring role and could… extend the service to me. Mentor me in the art of wooing her,” Jesse scratched his neck before grabbing the seat next to the redhead, “here, look!”

Jesse pulled out a laptop and notebook, opening them each up to reveal notes on how to ask the DJ out and a mix in progress.

“What’s this?” Chloe giggled, looking at the screen she was being shown.

“I’ve been trying to make a mix for her. And I was gonna get a boombox and stand outside her window, or maybe serenade her in the park or-”

Chloe had pretty much droned off, thinking about the time she jokingly made Beca a mix and serenaded her in the park with a small Beats Pill and some dorky ‘Dancing Queen’ By ABBA mixed with more ‘dorky jams’ as Chloe called them.

‘I’m eighteen you know,’ Beca had said.

‘You are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only eighteen,’ Chloe sang jokingly, ‘just doesn’t have the same ring to it.’

‘Whatever, you dork. Let’s get back to your apartment and I can show you how it’s done.’

‘The mixing or the serenading?’ the redhead cocked a brow.

‘Both. And maybe something else,’ Beca winked, grabbing the redhead’s hand and the speaker.

‘I like the sound of that.’

“That sounds… I dunno, Jesse. Sounds like something too cliche for her,” Chloe said, trying to give the best advice possible, despite it hurting her.

“Oh. Okay. Well… what do you think I should do?” He asked her.

“You know, I think you should just ask her. Honestly you shouldn’t have to rely on a big gesture to get her to say yes. She either will or she won’t, but it’s just a date you’re asking her out on. Not a proposal,” Chloe pointed out, collecting her things to leave.

“Where’re you going?” He asked innocently.

“I’ve got Bellas practice in fifteen minutes. See ya, Jesse! Good luck!”

Keep reading

Every Me And Every You - Two

Spencer reid x reader

You’d spent the whole of last night thinking about your conversation with Spencer. You couldn’t quite get your head around the fact that he’d told you that he liked dominating people.

Nor could you believe that you’d blurted out, “I trust you,” and asked if he’d show you.

It wasn’t that you were a shy person. Most of the time you were outgoing and loud and said what was on your mind. It was just….. well, this wasn’t a topic you’d ever really seriously talked about with anyone. Sure you’d made jokes about it with friends and stuff, but to have a full blown conversation with your friend and work colleague….one you found attractive too, well that was a completely different thing.

You’d been out for a run this morning and had spent the afternoon running errands and generally being a boring adult. Now you were relaxing in a bubble bath, thinking and contemplating the things he’d told you last night.

True to his word he’d sent you some links, you clicking and scanning through them before you passed out last night. Some of the heavier stuff scared you a little. You definitely didn’t think you would find people in full latex body suits and face hoods attractive or something you’d want to experience. But the thought of acting out certain scenarios that he’d mentioned, or being tied up and blindfolded, that did excite you somewhat.

But how much?

Lying in the tub you surveyed your body through the bubbles. Spencer had said there was a thin line between pain and pleasure. Hmmmm.

You couldn’t really spank yourself to see if you liked that. You’d never really be able to test your own limits. But you’d always enjoyed sex when it was a bit rough. Someone biting or scratching you, pulling or pinching your nipples hard. Did that mean you wanted to be whipped and spanked though?

You thought back to the links he’d sent you, and remembered that he’d said that if you wanted to explore this, you needed to be sure and you needed to find someone you trusted.

You trusted him.

Would he really be up for this?

Were you really up for this?

Only one way to find out. You grabbed your phone from where it was resting on the side of the bath and dialled. 

An hour later you were sat inside of Spencer Reid’s apartment, sitting across from him nervously.

“Are you certain this is something you want to try?” Your colleague asked you, watching for your reaction. You nodded, knowing that if you spoke, your voice would shake.

“And you know that you cannot let this effect our working relationship right? Normally if I’m doing this, it’s with someone from outside of my normal circle of friends. If this effects work, one of us will have to leave the BAU and it won’t be me offering to leave.”

You nodded again, knowing he was right.

You’d slept with coworkers before and had managed to keep the relationship in the office strictly professional. This wasn’t just sex though. But you could do it. You were sure.

“Did you read the information I sent you last night?”

“Yes.” You could definitely hear the nerves shaking your voice. You’d been much more confident over the phone. Now you were you actually here though….

“Are there certain aspects in particular you want to try? And things you don’t want to try? Talking about this is paramount to it working Y/N.” He took a sip of his coffee and you mirrored him. You’d asked if he had anything stronger but he refused, saying that you needed to be completely sober and aware of what was happening if you were being serious.

“Is this where we draw up some kind of contract or something?”

Spencer laughed, his eyes crinkling. “No. Whilst some people do actually do that, I prefer not to. I prefer to think that my partner will trust me enough without having a document to back it up. But you do need to tell me what you’re looking for here. And be completely honest.”

You took a deep breath, “Spencer, I honestly don’t know. The blindfold and restraint thing you told me about, I know I’d want to try that. The role play….. I think I’d like to try. But the whole ‘spank me and tell me I’m dirty’, that’s what I’m not sure about. I like sex a bit rough, but I’ve never been smacked or whipped or anything. But I think I like the idea of relinquishing all control. I just don’t know why.”

He smiled at you again. “Y/N, there’s ways for me to Dominate you without verbally insulting or physically hurting you, although I think you’ll be surprised. When the mood is right the endorphins in your body will take over and you may not feel as much pain as you’re expecting to. Everyone’s different. But there’s other ways.”

“How?” you breathed out, the nerves completely wiping the things you’d read last night from your mind.

“I could have you strip naked and spend the whole day waiting on me hand and foot, not allowing you to speak or get dressed. I could take you out for dinner and have you wear a remote controlled clitoral stimulator, which I’d have the control to. Or I could have you naked on my bed, spread eagled and instruct you to touch yourself whilst I watch, having you stop when I say stop and following my instructions only.”

Fuck…. All three of those options sounded ridiculously hot to you right now. You adjusted yourself on his couch, realising you felt wet between your thighs.

“You’ve flushed. And you’re wriggling.” He’d noticed, oh course he had.

“Sorry.”

“Why are you apologising? It’s good that this is turning you on. If it didn’t, I’d be worried about why you were here.”

“I just…. I wonder if I’m too ‘Vanilla’ for you. Whether my tastes won’t be the same as yours.” You’d come across that term last night.

“Yet I bet up until yesterday, you thought I was as ‘Vanilla’ as they came right?“ He air quoted with his hands, an amused look on his face.

You couldn’t not smile because it was true.

“Everyone starts somewhere Y/N. We can start slowly, maybe some restraints and sensory deprivation, see where your limits lie. And go from there?”

“Okay. Can I ask something first? Why are you wiling to do this with me Reid?”

He shrugged. “You asked. Everyone needs someone to show them the way if they’re new to the scene. It helps that I find you attractive, and if I’m being completely honest, seeing you handling some of the gear that had been collected as evidence this week, did give me ideas. So…. Do you want to try?”

Now or never Y/N.

“Yes…. Tonight?”

“If you like. I’ve not long showered and given the splashing I heard when you called, I presumed you’ve bathed.”

You nodded at him again.

“Okay. First things. I’m clean. I haven’t had a partner since my last STD test seven weeks ago. If you’d prefer to use protection though that’s 100 percent fine with me. I have a selection.”

Wow. You wondered what else he had a selection of, although you imagined you’d be finding out fairly soon.

“Erm, I’m clean too. I had a pap smear and tests done fourteen weeks ago and I haven’t been with any once since. I’m on the depo injection too. Condoms sometimes irritate me.”

“Good. My preference is without, but safe sex is important. Next point, safe words. And does your 'no’ actually mean 'no’. Because I need to be sure. Which is why the safe word is important.”

You’d read about safe words before. Some of the thrill came from hearing someone seemingly in pain and asking you to stop, but carrying on. Or saying no, but having someone continue. NOT in a rape scenario, that was something you’d never do, although you couldn’t quite bring yourself to ask Spencer whether that was a scenario he’d played out.

“Safe word……can it just be a colour?” Your mind was drawing a blank.

“It can indeed. Some partners operate with a few colours actually. Yellow meaning stop doing that particular thing but don’t end the scene, and red meaning to stop completely, scene over.”

“Can we do that?” you asked, now starting to feel slightly less nervous. He was making it easy to talk to him about this and you were thankful for that.

“We can if that’s what you want. If you say yellow, I’ll ease off initially and if you say it again, I’ll try something different. Say red, and we just stop completely okay, end of play, no judgement. Does this mean that 'no’ or 'stop’ means I can continue.”

“Yes. Although I’m not sure I’ll actually say no or stop. But who knows. What about…. What about if I’m gagged?”

“We won’t go that far tonight, but if that’s the case, we’ll make sure you can snap your fingers. I’ve seen you do it enough times at work before so I know you’re capable of it.”

Won’t go that far tonight. Oh jeez.

“Are you ready? Is there anything else you want to ask? Don’t be scared Y/N. And don’t be frightened to ask me what I’m doing or to use the safe words okay.”

“Okay. And… Yes. I’m ready.” Your heart was pounding and you felt slightly light headed, but you were ready.

“Alright then. Let’s move into my bedroom. Don’t worry, it’s not like the red room or anything. It’s just a normal room. I keep my toys locked away in a chest, just in case.”

Toys. Oh christ.

But you wanted this. As nervous as you were, you definitely wanted this. The feeling between your legs was a clear indicator of that.

Spencer stood and held out his hand to you.

Taking yet another deep breath, you took it.

Distracted

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 1,295

Request: Can you please do #21 and #26 with James Potter? (Random Dialogue Prompts)

Key: (l/n) = your last name


You sighed as Professor Binns continued to drone on, something about an ancient war that shaped wizard-kind, you weren’t quite sure. It was all you could do to not fall asleep right there, tapping your quill on the parchment and watching the clouds outside in an effort to stay awake; an effort which was very much strengthened when you saw a familiar owl fly to the windowsill beside your desk.

“What are you doing here?” you asked in an almost silent murmur, the little bird watching you intently. Your resolve crumbled as she continued to look at you with those big eyes, you rolled your eyes before opening the window as quietly as possible. “You silly thing, you’re supposed to be in the owlery.” Though your words were scolding, the smile on your face conveyed otherwise.

She hopped over the threshold, cheeping and nuzzling into your hand when you gently patted the top of her head. You shushed her, but she’d already gained the attention of your deskmate, and you let out a sigh as you turned to him with a finger to your lips. Hoping James Potter would ever keep his mouth shut was normally a lost cause, but he held up his hands in mock surrender, a small smirk playing at his lips.

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