yes i know something is one word

In your high school and college years, you are going to find someone and you’ll fall in love, deeper than you ever imagined. You are going to feel something you have never felt before and you’ll swear it’s meant to be. But it will end. The heartbreak that you always read about and saw in the movies will become reality. And I am telling you that it will be okay. It’s not the end of the world. You will find someone that loves you for who you are. Yes it will be really hard, but I will leave you with one word.. Patience. Be patient and know that no matter what happens, it will be okay.
Suga Daddy

Suga Daddy

Word count: 7.8k

Genre: smut

Yoongi gives you an offer you can’t refuse

This idea was loosely based on this vine. I just really wanted a daddy Yoongi story :) 

Also, i’m sure this title is used all the time but it was too perfect. This is my first Yoongi fic so let me know what you think.

{Playlist} Parts: one | two | three | four | five | six 

You had just gotten to back from class to your duplex. You lived in a very nice part of town for almost a year now. It was strange, even after ten months you were still getting used to all this. You’d come from a pretty wealthy family, but when you decided that you were going to go to school for dance and not to medical school your parents cut you off.

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Popsicles And Kiwis

PAIRING: Harry/Y/N
RATING: R
WORD COUNT: 4800+
REQUESTED: yes !

so this came from a small request about eating a popsicle and accidentally starting something that couldn’t be finished…….i went a bit overboard with it, but i hope u enjoy some smut! please let me know what u think :-) it rLY motivates me ! [feedback] [masterlist]

~*~

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the signs falling in love... as Disney Songs!

Aries: Ariel - Kiss the Girl ~ “Yes you want her- look at her, you know you do, and it’s possible she wants you too. There’s one way to ask her, it don’t take a word, not a single word… Go on and kiss the girl.”

Taurus: Cinderella - So This is Love? ~ “So this is love? So this is what makes life divine- I’m all aglow, and now I know the key to all heaven is mine.”

Gemini: Pocahontas - Just Around the River Bend ~ “Can I ignore that sound of distant drumming for a handsome sturdy husband who builds handsome sturdy walls, and never dreams that something might be coming?”

Cancer: Beauty and the Beast - Beauty and the Beast ~ “Tale as old as time, true as it can be. Barely even friends, then somebody bends unexpectedly. Just a little change, small to say the least- both a little scared, neither one prepared, Beauty and the Beast.”

Leo: Princess and the Frog - Never Knew I Needed ~ “My accidental happily ever after, the way you smile and how you comfort me with your laughter. I must admit you were not a part of my book, but now if you open it up and take a look you’re the beginning and the end of every chapter… You’re the best thing I never knew I needed.”

Libra: Sleeping Beauty - Once upon a Dream ~ “I know you- the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam, yet I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you I know what you’ll do- you’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.”

Virgo: The Lion King - Can You Feel the Love Tonight? ~ “Can you feel the love tonight; the peace the evening brings? The world, for once, in perfect harmony with all its living things.“

Scorpio: Pocahontas - If I Never Knew You ~ “If I never knew you, if I never felt this love, I would have no inkling of how precious life can be. And if I never knew you, I would never have a clue, how at last I’d find in you the missing part of me.”

Sagittarius: Aladdin - A Whole New World ~ “I can show you the world; shining, shimmering splendid. Tell me, princess, now when did you last let your heart decide?“

Capricorn: Tangled - I See the Light ~ “And at last I see the light, and it’s like the sky is new. And it’s warm and real and bright, and the world has somehow shifted; all at once everything is different now that I see you.”

Aquarius: Hercules - I Won’t Say ~ “Get off my case I won’t say it, (Girl don’t be proud it’s okay you’re in love), At least out loud I won’t say I’m in love.”

Pisces: Toy Story - When She Loved Me ~ “Through the summer and the fall, we had each other that was all- just she and I together like it was meant to be. And when she was lonely I was there to comfort her, and I knew that she loved me.”

*check sun, moon, and venus my lovelies*

Whipped...friends??

Y/N would have never imagined the amount of attention being Harry’s best friend would bring. There’s also always speculations, suspicions that the two might be more than friends, given the fact that when they go out, it’s like they might as well be joined at the hip. Where Harry is on a day off, Y/N is sure to follow, and the paparazzi gets pictures of it all. But Y/N’s always been just a friend. It’s not like she trails behind him like a puppy, no. Harry just always loves having her around, finds comfort in the way she talks to him without a hint of glorification. Tracing back to the beginning of their friendship, Y/N didn’t tip toe around Harry, trying to make sure to not say the wrong thing, never really made impressing Harry a priority. And Harry really appreciated that.

And the relentless bother and questions of “are you two dating?” doesn’t end with the public, no, it continues, and probably gets more intense coming from their group of friends.

Whenever Y/N steps away from Harry’s side, there’s always one of the boys whispering to him about how they’re sure she’s got him wrapped around her pretty little finger. How at the call of his name, Harry never thinks twice about dropping everything and tending to her wants and needs. They make it sound awful in a way, as if Y/N is always needy of Harry and demanded his attention. But they don’t mean it like that really, just like bothering him about it, specially because he gets all worked up in trying to defend her.

They even comment about how they’ve taken notice to the fact Harry’s smile can stretch for miles at the mention of her name, which Harry has never denied. Only nods his head in amusement at the fact others notice.

And maybe their secret little escapes to what they refer to as “friend dates” are no help. They’ll be having a night in on the sofa, Harry sat at the edge of it, elbow propped on the arm rest, mindlessly scrolling through texts and thumbs swift on the screen, typing replies to friends. And obviously Y/N’s with him, lying down and feet resting on his lap, her head flat on the cushion, eyes shut because she quite enjoys just lying about in a silent room, knowing Harry’s there. And it’s not until he shuffles to stand up, pushing her legs off him in the process, that she opens her eyes and follows his body across the room where he doubles over to slip on his YSL boots before he goes for his coat. With a small whisper of “ye’ comin’?” Y/N is sure to follow his steps. Most nights like that they end up in some random bar or restaurant, sat on a stool or a booth, laughing and eating. Harry will often opt to sit next to her rather than in front, taking the chance to lay his head on her shoulder. Even kiss at her neck sometimes.

And when the boys catch a glimpse of the paparazzi photos taken of them all cuddly on a random Tuesday night at a local cafe, Harry’s phone just about overloads with texts from Niall going on about “I knew it!” And “just ask her, man!”

So no, it’s not out of the ordinary for Louis to make a ‘wuh-PSSSH’ sound followed by something snarky like “so whipped, mate. And she’s not even ye’ girlfriend,” when he notices Harry’s stare trailing to where Y/N goes as she makes breakfast for the lot. Harry tries to disregard the comment as Louis takes a seat next to him at the kitchen island.

“What’re you guys going on about over there?” Y/N asks, giggling to herself, “got Harry blushing and all.”

And of course with no chill what so ever, Liam pats Harry on the back, a devilish smile playing on his lips, “Harry here has found himself head over heels.”

Y/N can’t deny that her heart sinks a little at that, but she doesn’t let it faze her, or at least she doesn’t show it. “Really?? Oh who is she??”

“Yeah, Harry! Tell our lovely Y/N who’s the lucky woman!” Harry would hope Niall would be the one not to indulge in his current tormenting.

But Harry can only look at Y/N, her eyes locked on his from across the room. And Harry swears he’s never seen her look at him the way she is right now.

And the boys don’t mean to over tease him this time, just wish he’d finally let it out and tell her because they’re rather sure Y/N feels the same. It’s hard not to notice the way she looks at him, eyes full of adoration and dare they say, love.

When the air has fallen silent for far too long, Liam decides to change the subject for Harry’s sake and stands up to give Y/N a hand with the pouring of the beverages.

“You two have gotten to the point where you grocery shop together.” Liam starts again when Y/N steps away for more milk, “you cook together. You do laundry together. You’re always going on dates. You go with her for manis and pedis, and I’m sure you enjoy it, too.”

“So wha’?? I like spendin’ time with her.” Harry doesn’t really see why that’s so bad, being whipped and all.

“You sleep together,” Louis chimes in, “hell, wouldn’t be surprised if you showered together.”

Now that’s just nonsense.

“Sod off ye’ prick.”


It’s been a few weeks since the day Y/N found out Harry’s interested in someone. And she’d be lying if she said it doesn’t keep her awake at night. Awake while she’s lying next to Harry because of the fact that they’d much rather sleep together than alone. But when she looks over at him, she can’t help but smile.

She’s lying on her side, eyes tracing his, rid of any wrinkles they get when he smiles or frowns. They trace all of him. From his eyes to his eyebrows, then his cheeks and to his nose, where she kisses lightly, careful not to wake him. He only crinkles it for a short second, to which she only smiles. Her eyes linger down his neck, tracing every muscle and crevice until she’s looking at the tattoos on his chest, the steady rise and fall of it has her breathing adapting to his.

It’s when she looks at his parted bubble gum pink lips that she raises a hand, her index finger ghosting over his bottom lip. The touch has Harry stirring, eyes open for a moment before he puckers his lips to peck her finger, a smile on his face. He flutters his eyes shut for a second before resting his hand on her waist and rubbing his thumb gently on the exposed skin. He moans in content, pulls her body closer to his and rests his lips on her hair line.

“Go t'sleep, pet.”

And why oh why did she ever think some friendly flirting and bed sharing with her best friend could never lead to any emotional attachment.


The cuddles hasn’t stopped. Harry’s lingering kisses and hugs hasn’t stopped. The boys teasing on Harry behind Y/N’s back hasn’t stopped. Y/N sleeping in Harry’s bed hasn’t stopped. And Y/N’s constant self reminder that Harry might just be in love with someone else has not stopped.

If she’s being quite honest, she’s not liking the way the boys snicker and whisper to Harry when she walks off. And she really doesn’t like how whatever and whoever they’re whispering about is making Harry blush and smile sheepishly like crazy. Wishes she knew what they’re always being so secretive about. But giving it a second thought, maybe she doesn’t wanna know. It’s all the same to her now though.

The movie on the telly doesn’t seem to distract her anymore, not from her thoughts which are taking over her mind the more time she spends in Harry’s home. And to add to that, the second she steps back into the room with a bowl of popcorn the boys go silent. It makes her feel awful…left out, but she’s sure they don’t mean to do it. She should be thankful right? At least they’re nice enough not to talk about Harry’s girl in front of her, or maybe that’s just something she wants to believe.

“Oh popcorn.” Niall’s first to reach out and grab a handful before she’s even had the chance to get to her seat next to Harry.

“Thanks, love.” Harry whispers, kissing her cheek the second she sits down.

She notices out of the corner of her eye how Louis smirks and nods his head when Harry wraps his arm around her shoulder. What’s so funny??

The moment Harry presses another kiss to the top of her head is the moment she realizes she’s had enough. It’s the moment she realizes she can’t keep pretending and letting herself fall even more. Not after what Liam said.

“I have to go. It’s getting pretty late.” This catches everyone off guard, especially Harry.

When she stands up to leave, his fingers around her wrist are quick to make her stop and have her look down at him, still sat on the sofa. “Wha’ do ye’ mean? Ye’ always spend the night, poppet.”

His brows are furrowed now, grip tight on her wrist, fearing that if he loosens it she might just slip away.

Of course they can’t ignore the other people in the room though, so when Y/N’s eyes avert to the boys, Harry is quick to stand up and lead them away.

“Everythin’ a'right?” His eyes scan hers for answers, his hand now cupping her neck, thumb rubbing soothingly at her jaw.

The cool of his rings on her skin keep her at ease. But the uncertainty in her eyes has Harry feeling all types of useless.

“Tell me wha’s wrong, little one. Wha’ can I do to make ye’ feel better?”

And those words would have made no sense if it wasn’t for the sudden feeling of Harry wiping away a stray tear she didn’t notice she’d shed.

She can’t. She can’t break down. Not in front of him. What can she say for him to let her go??

“Nothing’s wrong, Harry.”

But she’s sure he doesn’t believe her, not one bit. He knows her too well.

And she can tell he’s about to say something else, and she knows if she lets him, she’s sure to fall back into whatever they have.

“I’ve really got to go. I’ve got a date in an hour and I have to go get ready.”

As much bullshit of an excuse as that is, Harry’s grip on her wrist loosens, and the hand on her neck falls.

And she takes the opportunity to slip out the door.



Whipped…friends?? Or.. (Part Two)

midnight memories this or that

something great or you and i? diana or best song ever? story of my life or midnight memories? right now or through the dark? does he know or alive? strong or happily? little black dress or little white lies? half a heart or don’t forget where you belong? better than words or more than a feeling?

It pisses me off so much how in the books Parvati and Lavender are just pidgeon-holed as ‘fashion obsessed hair heads’ for most of the books?

I mean, they might not be, but that was the impression pre-teen!me got from reading the books?

And now I’m all … okay, okay Hermione is awesome and we all know it.

But that doesn’t mean Lavender and Parvati are stupid just because they are geared differently from Hermione.

Fashion is hella hard and it requires a lot of memorization and attention to detail? And honestly Lavender and Parvati seem to be pretty nice people, in the little glimpses we get of them?

And all I want is Harry, following the Weasley without getting noticed (because he is used to sneaking around without disturbing people or attracting their attention, owing to the Dursley for that) and getting through the barrier and on the train.

And Lavender’s father helping him out with his baggage, jokingly asking him to keep an eye on his little girl? You seem like a good lad, my Lavender is the most beautiful girl, I need a strong gentleman to keep an eye out until she gets to Hogwarts and she starts to learn magic, so are you up to it?

Which is, of course, not true. Lavender has been going to self-defense lessons for years.

But the man noticed that this was a little kid with no parents around, looking all alone.

He thought 'hey, maybe I can stick him with my kid and they’ll make friends’

(btw, as Lavender is not, as far as I know, confirmed as pureblood in canon, I am going with half-blood or muggleborn for her, I’m thinking muggleborn for this specific AU?)

And Lavender is all “Daddy!” and apologizing to Harry for her dorky dad the moment he is out of the door.

And very nicely avoiding to comment on his clothes because she knows how it feels to be conscious of how your clothes look on you and it’s clear to her eyes that the way Harry is dressed he is probably from some orphanage or something because those are huge hand me downs.

(Because fuck you 90s, being fashion conscious doesn’t mean you are an elitist bitch).

And her parents are looking at her from the Platform and instead of asking about Harry’s life, not wanting to put him on the spot, Lavender waves to them and starts talking to Harry all “Those are my parents, they are so fascinated with the idea of magic and what I will learn at Hogwarts, I can’t wait to write to them all about the castle. My dad works in an office as an accountant and my mother has a column in –” Insert popular teen magazine for 90s UK.

And Harry is a bit overwhelmed but Lavender isn’t staring at him, she is not forcing him to talk and she looks nice.

So he kind of starts to tell her about the Dursely y'know, not like he did with Ron about how terrible they are, but about Vernon working for Grunnings (Lavender giggles and says 'Oh I am so sorry but it just sounds like a really silly name? Grunnings.’ and she tries to stretch the word a bit and Harry laughs a little and says yes, because it does sound silly the way she’s saying it, he just had never thought about it. 'I think it’s Swedish or something’ he offers and Lavenders nods sagely because yes, that makes sense) and how Petunia lives at home and reads all sort of gossipy papers, but not teen ones so sorry, he has never seen Lavender’s mom’s column.

And then the door to their compartment open and Parvati and Padma’s mother (I don’t know if they are pureblood but I’m headcanoning them as pureblood for this one) politely asks if there’s space for two more girls and when Lavender and Harry, after looking at each other, agree, Madam Patil levitates their trunks in (much to the amazement of Harry and Lavender) and settles them above and then guides her daughters in.

She introduces them, putting her hands on her shoulders, cautions her girls to not get wand-happy and wishes everyone a happy Hogwarts year and then leaves them there, going back to the Platform to join her husband and tell him how she left their daughters in the presence of Harry Potter.

“He looked dreadful. Hard up at the very least. I think you should look into his family situation. His clothes, at the very least, were terrible.” She murmurs, softly. “I am sure our girls will adopt him before the ride is over, so you should look forward to hearing about him in their letters.”

Her husband, who knows all about his beloved’s wife tendency to take people under her wing and adopt dangerous animals and fell in love with her for it (as well as for other qualities she has) because he’s very much the same, smiles fondly at her for the last bit and nods seriously at the first one.

It doesn’t matter who the boy is. Well it does, because Harry Potter of course, but it also doesn’t matter because no child should be mistreated.

Also it’s kind of strange that Harry Potter would look hard up, considering it’s common knowledge his parents left him handsomely provided for, full tuition to Hogwarts already paid.

Lavender gushes about how beautiful the Patil twins are, which immediately conquers Parvati, who gushes right back at Lavender’s sparkly accessories.

(Look, I might be wrong because this was the UK and not Italy, and if I am please let me know, but I was a child in the 90s, I bought italian teen magazines, sparkly shit taped to the cover under a plastic sleeve was the shit with fashionable people.)

Of course the moment Harry introduces himself, the Parvati twins try really hard not to goggle, though they do look at his scar, and then Parvati starts asking a storm of questions about where he grew up, whether the Harry Potter adventure books right about all he did since he was a child, if not that what did he do since beating You-Know-Who.

Harry 'Do you mean Voldemort?’ is greeted by soft gasps, right until Lavender asks 'Who?’ and then Parvati starts telling her all about the horrible Voldemort and how Harry and his parents saved them all from that monster.

Padma’s brain on the other hand is whirring and she is the one who reassures Harry that he will do just as fine as everybody else, when he says that.

Lavender and Parvati interrupt their convo because Lavender needs to assure to Harry that she’s muggleborn too, so they will have to learn together and he will be just on par with her, while Parvati explains that magical kids do get a leg up because some of them are allowed to practice at home but that really, she will make sure Harry is up to date with everything that is 'stupefy’ about the magical world.

At which point, Lavender asks what 'stupefy’ means and Padma explains that it’s the stunning spell, so don’t say it while pointing your wand at anyone and Parvati adds that it means, well, the most stunning things around.

(What? Wizarding children should have their own slang).

So by the point Hermione and Neville come by, the group as already made the first basic ties and while Neville is greeted and introduced by Padma and Parvati to the rest of the group, Hermione goes on fine right until she hears Harry’s name.

Padma and Parvati thinks it’s … whatever wizarding equivalent is there of gauche, that Hermione would throw that torrent of words at Harry and just … presume to know about him.

Lavender is just hella protective of her new friend.

Tightly knit protective of Harry formation is achieved in 0.2 seconds.

Neville, who has been around other pureblood children but has been condescended upon by most of them (not Padma and Parvati, given that Parvati will stick up for him later on, but still, it was a general tendency towards a potential squib) has found in Hermione one person who has been nice to him to the point of going out of her way to help him look for his embarrassing toad, so he gets protective of Hermione right back.

So basically, Parvati tells Hermione that she should not barrage people with informations like that, Neville replies timidly that Hermione didn’t mean anything bad, she just like quoting sources, Lavender tells Harry that he doesn’t have to worry, they’ll look up all that stuff when they get to Hogwarts, Hermione gets huffy because of course she didn’t mean anything bad, she just thought Harry would know about that stuff, Padma asks why Hermione would think that when Harry has been raised in the muggle world, Neville goggles at the news that Harry was raised in the muggle world.

It’s a mess.

And then Draco Malfoy arrives, because he’s been making the rounds of the train to look for Harry Potter (saying hi to family allies on the way).

I am not sure who says what to whom for most of the ‘chat’ but what I am sure of is that by the end of it, Neville and Hermione are going to be best friends forever and an united front against snobby purebloods, Padma has icily informed 'Mister Malfoy’ that she will be writing to her father about how low the raising standards of the Malfoy have fallen to produce Draco as a result, in response to a snipe Draco made about telling his father about the Patil twins and the rabble they are sticking with, Parvati has informed Crabbe and Goyle that she had not thought they were better than this but they definitely need to find themselves friends who don’t just treat them like dumb muscle and Lavender has vowed to herself that it doesn’t matter to her how cute Draco Malfoy is or how attractive his silver hair are she will spell his hair and robes to look like something an 80s hairband groupie would wear, just as soon as she learns the necessary spells.

To make it simple, battle lines have been drawn, metaphorical blood has been spilled on all sides and the Harry-Lavender-Parvati-Padma friendship has been set in stone.

Ron, if you are curious about him, found a compartment that had Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas in it and spent a really amazing first ride to Hogwarts.

They both made sure Dean knew how Gryffindor was the best house there ever is and then they explained Quidditch to him and became fascinated when Dean explained football (to americans: soccer) to them, especially once Dean started sketching out schemes and stuff.

There are too many players, but it looks like exactly the kind of team effort chasers have to put together only spread through eleven people and that’s just wow.

Bright And Warm

(Gif source: x)

Characters - Dean x Reader
Summary - Dean never was one for relationships. He always messed it all up one way or another, but just this once, he hopes he can do something right.
Word Count - 1,296
Warnings - Language, a handsy asshole, allusion to previous physical abuse
A/N - Part of @whispersandwhiskerburn’s 2k Follower Celebration. Prompt: “Must Be Doing Something Right” Billy Currington + “Yes. Anything, just… yes…” I slightly modified the dialogue prompt since I thought it worked a little better the way I used it. This is different than my other stuff, so let me know what you think!!


Dean never was one for relationships. Sooner or later the shit hit the fan, and he was left with what was left of his heart shattered whenever it fell to bits. It happened with Cassie, and it happened with Lisa. It happened every time he let himself believe that he could manage to not fuck up something good in his life. Someone good in his life.

Then he met you.

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Sensory pain is an experience, not an “interpretation”

Hey, so I read something the other day that used an odd way of wording sensory sensitivities. It said that autistic people can “interpret” some sensations they’re sensitive to as pain. Um, what? I don’t know how this isn’t obvious, but… it is pain. When I hear loud or very high pitched or other sounds that affect me badly, I experience pain. Yes, it is actual pain. It’s not an “interpretation,” it is an *experience*. Let’s use an example: If two people go to get a flu shot, and there is not really any difference between the procedure itself, one of those people may very well experience the shot as more painful than the other person who gets the shot does. Does that mean that the person who had more pain was just interpreting it wrong? No! That’s literally their experience. And if you invalidate them by saying, “Oh, it wasn’t that bad,” you’re being rude, because literally everyone experiences things differently. Anyhow, you wouldn’t typically try to tell a non-autistic person that their pain isn’t real just because it’s not the same as yours (unless you were being very inconsiderate), so why do we reduce the experience of pain that autistic people go through to simply an issue of “interpretation”? Don’t invalidate us just because you can’t imagine the legitimacy of an experience outside your own.

Secure My Services (M)

↠ ceo!namseok x reader; 5.8k; using their ties as a leash; lots of dirty talk and hickies and all that
warning: smut (daddy kink, sir kink, kitten kink, blindfolds, leashes, threesome, slight breath play?, it’s all just nasty read with caution)

“How about we try this, kitten. I’ll fuck you until you can’t even remember anyone else who’s been with you before, and you can give your daddy a blowjob better than anyone else has, hm?”

Originally posted by taestylips

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How Wanna One Would Confess

A/N: I have my most important exam coming up and instead I’m sat writing for you, you’re welcome (jk). I got several requests for confessions, so I thought I’d just do all the members in a blurb – I hope that’s okay!



Jisung

Okay, so I feel like Jisung is the type who would straight up tell you that he likes you. Not in a neutral way, but one time when you were hanging out together. You’d be in a café together and he wouldn’t be able to stop smiling while looking at you, so you would ask him what he’s looking at. He would answer something like “you, because you’re cute” and after you thanked him for the compliment he would add “you know that I really like you, right?” and I swear to good he would seem so nonchalant about it, but on the inside his heart is beating faster than the speed of light until you tell him that you like him back.

Originally posted by misckpop

Sungwoon

Sungwoon would be a bit more shy about a confession, even though he’d like to be all smooth about it. I think he would be really shy about the person he liked and probably ramble a lot and shallow half his words because he’s just in a daze when being with you. If you look extra good one day or if you’re being extra sweet to him then he would get really flustered and you’d ask him: “Is everything alright?” And his answer would be something like: “Yes, no – I don’t know, you make me nervous.” And then you’d be like ‘oh’ because you understand what he means and then have to save him from being such a mess.

Originally posted by joker283

Minhyun

I don’t think Minhyun would be very nervous about a confession. Well, of course his pulse would be a bit higher than usual, but I don’t think he would really confess unless he was quite sure that you liked him back. If you’ve planned to do something together one day, he’ll show up at your place with a bouquet of flowers and tell you then. “Are these for me?” You’d ask and he would just answer with a simple: “Mhm, who else would I give flowers to?” And then he would probably do something really smooth like kiss your cheek or something and that would be his entire confession.

Originally posted by nu-blessed

Seongwoo

Seongwoo would be a bit extra about the whole thing. If you’ve watched Produce 101 then you know about his playful, cocky image, which he would bring into a potential love life. The way he would confess would be to try to get you to confess first, by observing your reactions to any skinship he does and things he tells you. If he tells you that you look pretty one day and your reaction is to get shy, he’ll go in for the kill and say something like: “Are you that affected by compliments or is it just because they’re coming from me?” Followed up by cutting you off with: “It’s okay, I get like that if you call me handsome too.”

Originally posted by kulo-ren

Daniel

Daniel’s confessions would be the sweetest and most cheesy things. I think he would probably confess without even realising it, it could be over text message or over the phone. You would kind of already know he likes you by the way he says he misses you or all the hearts he texts you, but the real confession would occur if you’re lying on the couch at your place and watching a movie. He’s the type to want to pull you on top of him for you to get comfy if you’re sleepy. He would then stroke your hair and then say: “I like this.” And pause for a while before saying: “I like us.”

Originally posted by ichnite

Jaehwan

Would 100% be super cheesy and sing his confession to you. Not really grand, like on a stage while you’re in the crowd, but more like sitting you down and taking his guitar to show you a new song he learned. After singing, he would say it made him think of you and smile like an idiot. This is where you should come in and tell him that you also thought of him while listening or saying that it made you very happy so you can live happily ever after. Okay, scratch that last part, just kiss him or something.  

Originally posted by godkimjaehwan

Jihoon

To many people Jihoon may seem like a type of tsundere, but I think he really shows it when he likes being with someone. He shows he likes someone by clinging onto them or talking to them a lot. He’ll know himself how obvious his crush on you is and just assume he doesn’t have to say it straight to you. His friends would probably comment on how he likes you so much and ask you why you aren’t together yet, but you would just answer that it hasn’t really been brought up yet. After he finds out about this conversation, he’ll go straight to you and say: “If I knew I just had to ask if you wanted to go out with me to get to date you then I would have done it ages ago.” And boom, you’re dating.

Originally posted by woojinsus

Woojin

Okay, but, if you saw the show then you know he’s such an awkward little bean. He opens up so well after a while though, so how comfortable he is depends on how well he knows you. I imagine him being friends with the person he’s confession to first and trying to leave subtle hints here and there. The thing is, they would be too subtle to notice, it would be things like just brushing his hand against yours carefully or giving you a compliment about your hair or outfit or anything here and there. After a while he might be frustrated and just ask to talk to you alone. Then he would straight up utter the words: “I like you” just like that and wait for your reaction. If you’re anything like him, the answer might just be: I like you too.” And YAY, feelings conveyed.

Originally posted by swoojin

Jinyoung

This boy would be so nervous to confess your feelings to you, mostly because he would be worried about your reaction to it. He would probably have to admire you from afar (in a non-creepy way, just some looks and eye-contact at times) before speaking to you more and more and getting to know you. When he actually gets to telling you that he likes you, it would go something like: “Uhm, I was just wondering if yiu, maybe, would like, possibly, want to go out with me? Only if you want to of course!” And he’d be all shy and scratch the back of his head while doing so.

Originally posted by winkdeep

Daehwi

Would 100% absolutely and totally confess by accident. You could be out walking together, probably after buying some food or just walk to get some air or something. You would say something really dumb, either it being a bad pun or a silly question and he’d just go: “Oh my god why do I like you again?” And you’re like: “Uhm, you never said you liked me.” And then he’s like oh shit this didn’t go as planned, but he’d try to get himself back awkwardly and cover it up and pretend he totally meant to do it. Lastly, he would just hope for the best and that you like him back.

Originally posted by hitoritabi

Guanlin

I feel like Guanlin’s confession would be the most normal one. He would be a bit quiet and lowkey about liking you, but at the same time he’d smile and laugh at a lot of the things you say and just feel really at ease being around you. When he’s comfortable enough he would ask you if you liked him, rather than telling you he liked you. That would mostly be because it’s less nerve-wracking. If you said yes, he would smile really brightly and go: “Good, cause I also like you a lot.”

Originally posted by euiwoong

I know it’s been the new fandom trend to more and more ostracize and throw hate at people who enjoy villains and morally gray characters (and redemption arcs, or anti-redemption arcs, or complicated characters, etc.) for the past few years, but it still won’t cease to amaze and annoy me.

Like, I get partially why. There was a big woobifying of villains thing going on for a while a few years back. The whole Draco Malloy in leather pants thing as well. Sexy villains was the norm, and people grew tired of that. This I think, is partially a reaction to that. Except of course, now it’s THAT which has taken over in full force instead.

But it feels like it’s more than that and I’d love to read an analysis on how this goes together with recent puritan trends in fandom and general black and white thinking.

However, most of the time I’m just wondering what some of you people have against that people sometime respond and identify with more complicated aspects of humanity. Nowadays you’re not allowed to like or create or write a villain or mortally gray character unless you make sure you condemn their actions loudly and public alt every time you talk about them, or you’re supporting the real life equivalent of their actions. And that’s ridiculous.

Like, sure, I’m not saying you can’t hate a villain, or that you need to appreciate them for being complex characters constantly. But you don’t need a huge well built argument about why or why everyone who does is morally depraved. It’s okay to just not like a character. You don’t have to dress that up in fancy words.

Listen, villains are some of the most fun characters to create and enjoy, and if I want to cheer someone on as they go off to kill hundreds of people (yes, like the Mulan gif, you know the one), I will do that. It doesn’t mean I condone actual mass murder. That’s just common sense, which is something that is clearly lacking from fandom debate.

Just had to rant a bit. Yoyo out.

Douchebag Part Two (Anthony Ramos x Reader)

My Masterlist 

Ant’s Masterlist 

Request Queue

Warnings: Sex baby lez talk about gettin freaky 

Happy Sequel Sunday! This is a collab with the wonderful and beautiful and calzone-loving @adothoe :D She’s the bomb and don’t listen to a word she says in her author note below she’s a liar 

Ant’s A/N- “hi this is ant and all the sarcastic and witty lines are from me yw”

Words- 4,485

Song- Shh–Raye

“I can’t believe you’re actually making me do this.” Anthony sighed and fisted a hand in his hair. He parked the car in a lot and got out, quickly walking up to the mall entrance.

“Look,” You jogged to catch up to him. “You promised me you’d get me a new bra. And since it’s been about a week since you so rudely ripped mine, it’s about time. How many bras do you think I own anyway?”

Anthony groaned. “I’d buy you every bra in the world if it would make you shut up.”

“Classy.”

“My job is to buy you a new bra. Not to be happy about it.”

You stepped into the entrance of the black and pink store, pausing when you realized that Anthony wasn’t following you anymore. You turned around and gave him a look.

“You’re not actually making me go in, right?”

“That depends. Would you rather me run rampant in a lingerie store with your credit card?” you teased.

“Alright fine. I’m coming.”

“You act like it’s a punishment, Ramos,” you said when he caught up with you. “Here’s an entire store filled with beautiful women trying on cute underwear.” You hit his chest and grinned at him. “Make the most of it.”

Leaving him in the middle of the store, you made your way to the demi bra display. You looked through the drawers to find your size, weighing each color and pattern.

“These aren’t very sexy.”

You didn’t look up from your perusal. “The main function of a bra is to hold your tatas up, not to look nice.”

“I liked the one you were wearing in the supply closet.”

You looked up at him. Your pulse picked up slightly as his words brought memories to the surface of your mind, but you quickly tried to hide it. “Fine, Ramos, what would you pick?”

Smirking, he immediately made his way to the lingerie section. Rolling your eyes, you followed.

Anthony picked up several different bras that left very little to the imagination. He handed them to you. “How about these?”

“How do you know my size?”

“I figured if you were gonna make me buy you a new bra, I’d better know which ones would fit. So, I went back to the supply closet and found the size on that bra. Why are there numbers and letters?”

“It’s just…nevermind. Ask the hot size lady to explain it to you.”

“So….are you gonna try these or what?”

You looked down at what was essentially a pile of lace pooled in your hand. “I guess if you’re the one buying it,” you mumbled. You walked over to a sales lady and she showed you to a fitting room but stopped Anthony before he could walk in with you.

“You can wait for your girlfriend on the couch over there.”

“What? She’s not my…fine.”

You walked into the room you were directed to. The lady asked if you needed help but you said you were fine.

Once safely locked inside, you stripped off your shirt and current bra. You tried on a few of the ones Anthony had picked out. They were nice, but you still felt unsure. You looked at yourself through different angles in the mirror, trying to decide if it even looked normal on you. It seemed so fancy; what if you got far with someone and it looked like you were trying too hard? Did it make your back look weird? You encountered the same issue with every bra, and by the time you got to the last one, a low cut, nude bra with navy blue lace running over it, you were on the fence and feeling more than a little insecure.

“Hey Ant?” you asked tentatively. No response. “Ramos?” you said a bit louder.

“Yeah?”

“You’re a guy right?”

You could barely hear a sigh of disappointment. “Yeah Y/N….I’m pretty sure you know I’m a guy.”

You pursed your lips. “I just…” You cracked the door of the dressing room open slightly, peeking only your head out. “I need your opinion,” you whispered. You looked around for the sales woman.

“What?” Anthony stood off the couch and slid his phone into his back pocket. You motioned for him to come over.  “What do you need?”

“I…can you just-” you sighed and grabbed him by the middle of his shirt, pulling him into the room with you.  You locked the door and leaned against it. Knowing Anthony was standing behind you, watching with careful eyes, you felt your body start to heat up. You took a deep breath and turned around to face him. “Does this look okay? Like is it…hot?”

Anthony stared at you for what felt like forever. You couldn’t read his expression, but his mouth hung open slightly.  “Ant?” you asked meekly. You felt the desperate need to cover up and wrapped your arms around your stomach.

Anthony cleared his throat. “It’s um, it’s good.”

“Are you sure?” you looked down at yourself.

“Trust me. You wanted a guy’s opinion and I’m giving it. You look really, really sexy right now.” he said breathlessly.

“Do I actually?” You walked past him and looked in the mirror.

“Yeah, I uh…yeah.”

You smirked and turned around to face him. “Is the great Anthony Ramos having some issues right now?” you teased.

“Yeah, actually.”

You were slightly taken aback by his response. “Dude, I was kidding.”  You walked over and reached up to pull a hair off his shirt. He grabbed your wrist quickly.

“I’m not.” Your eyes widened slightly, and your heart started to hammer. “And you’re moving into seriously dangerous territory right now.”

“Honestly, Ramos. You’re not scary at all. You’re a teddy bear.”

He stepped closer to you and you were suddenly very aware that you were half naked. “Was I a teddy bear when I fucked you against a wall?”

“You didn’t fuck me against a wall, you fucked me on a couch in your dressing room.”

He smirked. “The intention was there.”

You pressed against him. “But your dick wasn’t.”

“You know what’s better than fucking you against a wall?”

You sighed. “I don’t know, Ramos. What?” He grabbed your biceps and pushed you until you felt cool glass hit your back.

“Fucking you against a mirror.” He dipped his head down and started to kiss your neck. You let out a shaky breath and put your hand through his hair, arching into him.

“Ant?” Your voice was small and shaky. “Here?”

He smirked against your skin. “Sounds kinda fun, doesn’t it?”

“It sounds, um, risky.” You swallowed hard.

“Let me get this straight, you’ll fuck in your place of work but not in a Victoria’s Secret?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away. “Pro tip, Ramos. If you wanna have sex with a girl, maybe you should be nice to her.”

“I’ve never been nice to you and that didn’t stop you before.”

You smiled widely. “Thanks for admitting that you’re a total asshole.” Anthony rolled his eyes. “You know I don’t need to stay here. I can walk home.” You reached back and started to unhook the bra. You paused before pulling it off.

“If you’re waiting for me to ask you to stop taking your clothes off, you’re bra shopping with the wrong guy.”

You took the bra off and shoved it against his chest. “Go pay for this, douchebag,” you said, raising your eyebrows at how he obviously moved his gaze to your bare chest.

Anthony smirked and grabbed the bra. “Sure thing, princess.”

You sighed and fell back against the door. What was that about? The first time had been in the heat of the moment, maybe a mistake even, but this was calculated. He wanted you, and part of you hated to admit it, but you knew that you wanted him too. It was something in the way he kissed you. It made your knees go weak.

You quickly got dressed and walked out to see him waiting for you.

“That’s a big bag for one bra, Ramos.”

“I picked up a few things on my way out.” You moved to take the bag from him but he pulled back before you could. “Know the meaning of the word surprise?”

“You say that like you’re going to see me in these.” You reached for the bag again.

“I fully intend to, princess.” You crossed your arms and glared at him. “Don’t get pouty.” he teased. “Come on let’s go.”

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“I bought them, you model. It’s an easy deal.”

“Can’t get girls to undress for you by yourself, Ramos,” you teased.

“I think we both know what I can do to a girl. Right, Y/L/N?”

“Whatever. It was just work stress. And it happened one time so you can’t keep bringing it up like it meant something.”

“It meant that no matter what you say, you think I’m attractive, and that’s all that matters.”

“Well I could say the same for you Mister ‘Parade-around-in-your-underwear-for-me.’”

“Hey, I never denied thinking you’re hot. I just said you’re bossy and annoying and sooo uptight and-”

“Yeah we get it!” You snapped. You could hear Anthony laughing, but you were too distracted looking at yourself in the mirror. He had chosen a black lacy bra with a sheer corset hanging down, complete with matching lace panties and garter hook to attach to the black stockings. It was…intense, but you didn’t hate it.

“Relax, Y/L/N. You really need to unwind.” His mouth dropped open when you walked out of his bedroom wearing the complicated piece of lingerie.

“I really don’t think this counts as a bra, Ramos.”

He regained his composure and smirked at you. “It holds the tatas up, doesn’t it?”

You frowned and crossed your arms over your chest. “Don’t use my words against me.”

“You know, there’s one way that it wouldn’t count as a bra.”

“What’s that?”

“If you took it off.” You rolled your eyes at him but he grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “It wouldn’t be holding up the tatas anymore, would it? In fact, I can think of something much better to hold them.”

“Oh really?”

“Oh yes.” He wiggled his fingers at you.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re not complaining.”

You leaned against his doorframe and smiled. “You know it really is amazing how much I seem to turn you on, Ramos.”

“Is it a crime to get a boner by looking at an attractive woman in lingerie?”

“If it was, you’d have to be punished.”

“Really?” Anthony raised an eyebrow at you. Your eyes widened in horror.

“No! Not like-that’s it I’m leaving.” You went back into the bedroom to change.

“Suit yourself but I was ready to have some fun.”  You rolled your eyes and didn’t respond, opting to pull your pants and shirt on instead. “C’mon Y/N.” You sighed at the way he said your name, your first name. “It’s been a week since it happened and we haven’t talked about it outside of the jokes everyone makes.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft and you could tell he was leaning against the door.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You pulled the door open and he stood up quickly, looking over your now clothed figure. You grabbed your jacket and purse off his table. “It was a mistake. We were stressed. It’s not gonna happen again, and it didn’t mean anything.” You said firmly. Anthony’s eyes met yours briefly before they darted to the ground. “Consider it talked about.” You moved towards his door.

“Wait! Let me take you back.” Anthony grabbed the edge of the door.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s New York City, Ramos. I’ll catch a cab.”  You tried to pull the door open further but he stopped you again.

“Just let me be nice, Y/L/N.”

You searched his eyes for an ulterior motive, but he seemed to be, for once in his life, serious. So you let him drive you home.


Two show days were becoming your worst nightmare. Not only did they take up the entire day so that there was no possibility of getting anything else done, but you spent the entire day with Anthony. You had been avoiding him semi-successfully since your modeling career had abruptly ended, but you two were co-workers and it was getting harder and harder to avoid run-ins with him, especially when the rest of the cast was always speculating about your lives.

“So they’re not together,” you heard Pippa ask Renee in a stage whisper.

Renee shook her head. “They were finally starting to get along too.”

“I think it’s only a matter of time,” said the third Schuyler sister. “Do you see the way he looks at her?”

The girls shuffled away to take their marks for A Winter’s Ball and you sighed, thinking about what they said. Did he really look at you a certain way?

As if your thoughts of him conjured him up, Anthony brushed past you to make his way to the stage, not apologizing in the slightest, and hey-ing across the stage with Lin and Leslie.

You clenched your fists and took a deep breath, trying not to lose it. Maybe it was an honest mistake.

But it was Anthony. It was never an honest mistake with him.

Jon witnessed your anger and started to snicker lightly. You glared at him and he held his hands up innocently. You huffed and sat down on the stairs. You just wanted to go home. Two show days really were the worst.

You put your head between your hands. Everything was just so confusing. You went from hating him, to sleeping with him, to some weird and awkward friendship, and apparently back to hating him again all in one month. You preferred it back when he was nothing more to you than an annoying bug buzzing in your ear, but somehow everything felt bigger than that now.

“Maybe you should just fuck him again. Seemed to work last time.”

You sighed and rubbed your face. “Or I could quit and not have to deal with him ever again.”

Anthony chose that fantastic moment to come back from the stage, waiting for his Helpless cue. “You’re quitting?” You couldn’t read his face.

“I never said-”

“Wow, Y/N. That seems like something you’d tell your friends.”

You crossed your arms. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ramos. I wasn’t aware we were friends.”

He glared at you then looked back at the stage. It was time for him to go back. “Whatever. I have to go.”

And he did, without looking back.


You were on edge for the rest of the night. You were stuck in a limbo between wanting to scream and punch and wall and wanting to sit down and just give up. You couldn’t understand how Ramos had such an effect on you. He was pissed at you, so what? It wasn’t the first time. You couldn’t figure out why, though. As far as you were concerned he was the one who decided to act like a dick out of nowhere again. You had been trying to reach him somehow but no matter what things were tense and awkward, and you were convinced that had to be his fault.

You were packing up your things after the show when he came up to you again. You thought it was Alex Lacamoire coming to ask you about a tech problem again. “Alex, I’m really tired. Can we talk about the orchestra thing tomorrow?”

“Not Alex.”

You turned around and sighed again when you saw him. Crossing your arms, you stared at him tiredly. “What do you want, Ramos?”

“You’re actually quitting.” His voice sincere, but there was still an edge to it.

“I told you. I never said I was quitting. I was just having a conversation when you decided to come in and twist things,” you said defensively.

He smirked. A calm, over-confident, Ramos type smirk. “Hostile.”

“I can’t deal with this right now.” You turned back around and stuffed your phone charger in your purse. “I think you should leave.”

“I like how you think you can tell me what to do,” he said. You refused to respond. You weren’t gonna give him the satisfaction. “I’m not gonna leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have to talk to you, and it would be decent of you to listen.” You faced him. He didn’t look like he was kidding.

“Fine.” You leaned against the table your purse and coat were sitting on and stared him down. “Speak.”

“I’m not a dog, Y/L/N.”

“Maybe not in the physical definition,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Hey, at least I’m not a bitch,” he shot back.

You slammed your hands on the table behind you. “You said you had something to tell me. So tell me and then just leave.” You were starting to shake.

“I just wanna know why the fuck you’ve been little Miss Heartless and acting like I stepped on your pet or something. Why are you avoiding me like the plague? What did I do?”

Your brow creased. That was not what you were expecting. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“Bullshit. You’ve barely spoken to me in weeks.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you two months ago. You need to stop pretending, Ramos.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that!” you cut him off before he could speak. “You are pretending and you know it! You keep acting there’s something between us, and there’s not! So we fucked one time and we had to deal with that! Whatever! It doesn’t change anything! Doesn’t change that you hate me and that I-” Words caught in your throat. You felt like you were choking. You- you what? What could you say?

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, but you couldn’t say that you hated him. It just wasn’t true anymore. “And I just really can’t work with you so…so yeah maybe quitting isn’t the worst idea.”  

“No.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry? Who are you to tell me what I’m doing with my life?”

“I said no! You’re way too fucking good at your job to quit because of me-”

“I don’t care! You can’t tell me what to do!”

Anthony crossed the room. “You can’t quit, okay! I can’t…you..you just can’t-” You stared up at him while he fumbled for words. Something ignited inside you. You grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward, reaching up to attach your lips to his in a heated kiss.


Anthony made a noise of surprise, but it didn’t take him long to respond. He pressed a hand roughly against the small of your back, forcing you to arch into his chest. Everything was starting to click. You didn’t care about figuring stuff out anymore you just needed his hands on you this whole time. You tipped your head back and opened your mouth slightly, letting his tongue slip in. The hand that wasn’t holding you moved to tangle in your hair, which he tugged on lightly. A small sound escaped your lips. He smiled. You practically feel the awkwardness of the past weeks melting off your shoulders.

Anthony backed up until your thighs pressed against the edge of the table. You sat on it and wrapped your legs around his waist. He tugged your hair again, forcing you to throw your head back. He started to kiss your neck, and you bit your lip.

You moaned and the sound prompted him to suck on your neck as one of his hands reached between you to unzip your jeans.

“Fuck…” you whispered.

“I know.”

“Are we really?”

“I think so.”

“Okay.”

“Here?”

“We did it before-”

“In a dressing room-”

“No one is here, Ramos.”

Anthony started to pull down your jeans. The second they were off, he smirked.

“What?”

“So you did like the present.”

You looked down at your bare legs and saw that today you’d decided to wear one of the extra things Anthony had bought you. A nice little pair of lacy panties.

“If you rip them I’ll kill you.”

“I promise to be gentle.” he said teasingly, leaning down to kiss you again.

“Fuck that. I want you to rail me. Just don’t ruin my clothes.” His eyes widened and you ripped open his shirt, grinning at him. “An eye for an eye?”

Anthony surged forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to the edge of the table to press his erection against you.

You smiled as you kissed him, and leaned back so Anthony could tower over you. You pushed his shirt down off his shoulders, and he shrugged it off the rest of the way. He pulled away and you lifted your arms up so he could take your own shirt off. Anthony started to reach his hands towards you again but you stopped him.

You reached around your back and unhooked your bra yourself, throwing it over his shoulder onto the floor. “I don’t trust you, sorry.”

“Fine by me,” he mumbled and started sucking on the soft skin of your breast. You moaned and threaded your fingers through his curls, pulling softly.

Anthony pulled you off the table and you stumbled slightly as he pulled the lace panties down gently. You helped him out by pulling down his boxers and he immediately placed you back on the table, sliding into you all the way.

“God dammit!” Your body froze for a second with shock, but you quickly adjusted.

“You told me not to be gentle.”

You caught your breath. “I…did…”

“Then shut up.” Anthony started to thrust roughly into you. You gripped tightly onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin.

“Douchebag,” you moaned into his neck.

“Bitch,” he moaned back.

You tried to come up with a response, but your mind was starting to go blank as the feelings in your body took over. Anthony pounded into you, the table banging against the wall loudly in the empty theatre. You pulled his hair to bring his mouth back to yours and slid a hand down his chest to rest between you as you massaged his balls.

Anthony groaned and caressed his hand over your face. His fingers came to rest on your lips and you sucked them lightly, making direct eye contact with him. Anthony’s eyes glinted mischievously. He brought his now wet fingers from your mouth down to you clit and started to rub there while he thrust into you.

You moaned and arched your back, pressing your chest against his. You kissed him and pulled on his hair and he moaned into your mouth, all the stimulation making him come.

He hung his head and panted heavily into your neck. When he caught his breath, he stood up and pulled out of you gently.

“Are you serious?” you asked. “Already?”

“I’m sorry, I…you were…”

“Whatever, I’m not mad,” you said, obviously a little ticked off.

Anthony ran and hand through his hair, still breathing heavily. You had to admit that you liked the look of it, but you were feeling unsatisfied. “What?” he asked, “You thought I was gonna leave you hanging?”

“You’re not exactly a gentleman, Ramos.”

“You don’t think so?” He put his hands on his hips.

You scoffed and sat up completely, “No, I don’t.”

“Really?” He walked towards you and stood between your legs, running his hand up and down your bare thigh. You crossed your arms and shook your head. Anthony moved his hand from your thigh to in between your legs. He ran his middle finger over your slit. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Y/L/N.”

You let out a shaky breath and gripped the edge of the table. He smirked and started to kiss your chest simultaneously sliding his finger inside of you. You whimpered and pushed yourself against him. Anthony slowly moved down onto his knees and you closed your eyes in anticipation.

You felt small licks on the area around your clit and you moaned, pulling his hair to remind him not to be a tease. You could feel his lips pull into a smile and then instantly attach to your clit where he circled his tongue. He curled his finger inside of you, drawing several moans from your mouth.

You gasped when he added another finger and fisted his hair tightly. Anthony added a third finger and started to move them faster. Your toes started to curl, and you thought you were about to fall off the table.

“Fuck- Ant!”

He sucked on your clit, curling each of his fingers simultaneously. Your legs started to shake uncontrollably. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt your whole body tense for a moment before releasing.


You took several deep breaths and all but collapsed back onto the table. Anthony stood and grinned at you. “See? I can play nice.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah don’t get too confident. You still came in like 0.3 seconds.”

“I’m a guy. It happens.”

“To thirteen-year-olds masturbating for the first time-”

“You’re so-” Anthony held his hands up and sighed. “We are literally about to kill each other the second we’re done having sex. What’s wrong with us?” he said while pulling his boxers back on. You could tell why he was trying to cover up so quickly, and you almost laughed at how easy it was to turn him on.

“We don’t have to stop having sex,” you offered.

Anthony turned around and locked eyes with you. “Are you being serious?”

You shrugged, not making any move to get dressed. “We’re single. Obviously attracted to one another. It works.”

Anthony’s eyes roamed over your body. “I’m not against the idea.”

You smiled. “Why not? At the very least it’ll keep us from tearing each other’s throats out. At least in public…”

He nodded. “And you won’t quit?”

“I was kidding. You never gave me a chance to explain.”

“Sooo… friends with benefits?” He looked up at you.

“I still wouldn’t call us friends but yeah the benefits part works.”

Anthony rolled his eyes and piled your clothes next to you on the table. “Get dressed, then. We’re going back to my place.”

You stood and nodded. “I’ll meet you outside.” He took one last look over your figure before leaving the room.

You got dressed quickly and rushed down the stairs. Anthony was waiting by the door of the theater. “Ready?” he asked. You nodded and walked out of the theatre. Anthony caught up with you, and took your hand in his as you both walked out into the cool night air.

Unexpected

Word Count: 1600 ish

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: The reader finds out that she’s pregnant and has to find a way to tell Sam.

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy. Brief mention of depression (like, literally one sentence). Angst. I think that’s all, but forgive me if it’s not.

A/N: Yes, I know that this is quite a common trope, but I just couldn’t help myself :) Enjoy my rendition of Sam finding out that you’re pregnant!

***

It was hard to put into words how you had felt for the past few weeks. Extreme fatigue and nausea had been keeping you sidelined from hunting for too long now. You felt off, almost as if there was something that was completely changed within you.

Of course Sam and Dean picked up on your behavior change. After being their roommates and hunting partners for almost three years now, they were used to your normal and abnormal mannerisms. Dean never vocalized it to you, but he thought you were experiencing side effects of depression. You never ruled that out - after all of the horrors you had seen, you were sure that it was a possibility.

Sam on the other hand, was very vocal about his thoughts that you were physically sick. He had seen you at your rock-bottom worst, and he thought that this time it was different.

The relationship you had with Dean was brotherly. You teased one another, fought one another, but ultimately, loved each other unconditionally. He was family to you.

In contrast to Dean, Sam was not so brotherly. You felt a spark when you were around Sam - you had never felt so loved when Sam was around. The way he would pull you in for an embrace kiss the top of your head was more emotionally charged than just a friend would do.

Keep reading

Viktuuri Fanfiction Writers (@viktuurificwriters) is a blog dedicated in getting to know the YOI fandom’s beloved Viktuuri fanfic writers. Yes, the writers, not just their works…

1. How is this different from fanfiction recommendation blogs?

Fanfiction recommendation blogs showcase the works, the fanfiction, while this blog showcase the writers, the people behind the words. Simple as that.

We all get to talk about the latest and popular fics, but we rarely bother about the person who writes those fics, especially if it’s one of those lesser known authors.

How many times have you bookmarked or gave kudos to a work without bothering to check out the author’s profile? I know not every author writes something on their profile, but here’s where this blog comes in. This blog will conduct interviews with writers, write biographies about them, and give the writers a chance to show who they are in ways other than writing fanfiction.

2. What exactly will this blog do?

  • Chooses writers to interview and specially feature in this blog.
  • Supports all types of viktuuri fic authors, especially the lesser known authors, by giving them a place to promote themselves.  If you’re a new writer, then this blog will be the best place to introduce yourself.
  • Promotes lesser known authors that deserve more love by giving them a short feature and “special awards.”
  • Promote writers, of course! readers can submit their own post featuring their favorite writers and why they like him/her/they.
  • Make weekly author features. Every week, this blog will choose one author to feature.
  • Features writers/readers who are open to beta reading. Tumblr users can submit a post saying they want to beta read. This will make it easier for writers to find beta readers.

What is aforementioned above will only be some of the things I plan to do for this blog. More things will be added to them:D

3. What is the purpose of this blog?

This blogs aim to create a friendly community for writers and readers alike. Readers can get to know more about the minds behind the masterpieces they love and writers can get in touch with readers.

As of now, this blog is new and has no posts yet, but soon I hope to fill it in with your help. Follow this blog if you’re interested and help spread the word by reblogging this post.

Thank you and I look forward to getting to know our writers :)

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Prompt : 7. “You’re pregnant?” 11. “You bought us a house?” - Requested by anon

Originally posted by nerdyfandomimagines

You sat in the passenger seat, feeling your stomach churn as you went over and over how you were going to tell Bucky the news. 

He wanted to take you out for a drive, and being alone, you thought this would be the perfect time to tell him. Though you were scared of what his reaction would be. 

“Hey-” He drawled out, slipping his hand in to yours. “Are you okay?” 

Snapping out of your daze, you looked to him and flashed a soft smile. 

“Y-Yeah. Im fine.” You lied. 

Bucky pulled into a beautiful neighborhood, and parked the car in front of a house. It was breathtaking. Small little home painted white, with a porch. It was something you and Bucky would talk about. 

“You know you can always talk to me Y/N.” He said, turning his body to you, meeting your gaze. “No matter what it is.”

Looking into his eyes, you felt safe. And suddenly, your worries disappeared. 

“There’s something I need to tell you.” You whispered, looking down at your stomach, one hand caressing your belly. 

Bucky followed your gaze, and immediately knew just what you were going to say. 

“You’re pregnant?” He asked. 

The way he said the word ‘Pregnant’ made your stomach flutter. And now doubt and worry had washed over you. 

“Yes.” You sighed. 

Bucky glanced away, his silence torturing you to no end. 

You could feel yourself grow more concerned with every passing second. What was he thinking? 

“Say something, please.” 

He flashed a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he looked back at you. 

“Y/N, this is amazing.” He exclaimed. 

“Wait, you’re okay with this?” You asked. 

Bucky furrowed his brows, and nodded. “I am more than okay, I am completely happy about this.” He stated. 

Taking your hands into his, he locked his gaze with yours. “Y/N, I love you. You are my family and now, we are going to have a baby to add to our family. It’s beyond anything I could ever ask for.” 

You could feel the tears begin to well in your eyes. This moment right here was the moment you never wanted to forget. 

“There’s a reason I brought you out here.” He muttered. “Welcome home.” 

Snapping your eyes back to the cute little house you were previously awing at, you were hit with confusion. 

“You bought us a house?” 

Bucky nodded leading you to let out a squeal. 

“Oh my gosh” You exclaimed with excitement. “Can we-can we go inside?” 

“Of course.” He chuckled. “Its our home. We can go inside whenever we want.” 

Escape:  the residency years

Warning:  This isn’t the happiest of chapters.

Special thanks to @joannclelia for her help. And to anon for the ending advice.



“What have ye for lunch then?”  

She turned the phone around to show him her tray.  Pasta, of course.  An orange.  Spinach salad.  Good.  Bottle of water.  Then, just on the edge of her tray…

“Claire.  What was that?”  

She flipped the phone back to her face.  “What was what, darling? You can see I have a very healthy lunch, and I’m sitting down, relaxing while I eat.  With Louise,” she turned the phone towards her companion, a pretty nurse with long brown hair.

“Right there!  Is that a brownie?”  He could hear her giggle, and say shhhh.

Her face was barely straight as she looked him.  “No.  That’s Louise’s, not mine.”

“Non, ce n’est pas le mien!” Jamie heard the indignant voice out of view. 

“Sassenach, I ken ye like the French pastries, but come on.  Ye had a pain au chocolat at breakfast, now this. Last night, some cake.  How about ye not give birth to a diabetic, eh?”  

Claire smiled, and blew him a kiss.  “No pudding at dinner tonight.  Promise.” 

Jamie nodded, pursed his lips, and blew a kiss back.  “Enjoy yer lunch.  I’ll speak wi’ ye later.  Take it easy, okay?”

“I will.” Claire said, as she waved at her screen.

“I love you, mo neighean donn.  Give the bairn a kiss from his Da.” 

“You mean her.”  Claire kissed her fingers and pressed them on her bump. “Love you, too, Jamie,” she said, and disconnected.

When it was time to go back, Claire gathered up her tray, and stood.  

She looked at her chair in confusion.  There was a large mark on her seat. What had she spilled?  

It wasn’t until she heard Louise’s gasp that she realized something was wrong. 

She felt the sticky wetness on her scrubs, but couldn’t really see past her belly.

A moment later she felt the rush of something between her legs.  She could smell the blood.  

Her tray dropped to the floor, bouncing off the end of the table on its way down, shattering everything.  

Far away someone was screaming.

It was her. 


“I just talked to her.  I just talked to her at lunch.  She was fine.  I just saw her.” Jamie kept repeating the same thing.  He sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk, tears in his eyes, bewildered, confused.  

Jenny catapulted into action.  She snapped a finger at her assistant, pointing. The woman already had the phone receiver in her hand.  “I need Ian, here, right now.  For Jamie.  Alec needs to bring the car around right away.  And get a private plane ready to leave for Paris immediately.  Charge the company.”  

“You,” she pointed at Willie, “come with me.”  Willie, who had shown up with Jamie, was pale and panicked.  He stepped into line with her as she strode down the hall.  “We need Jamie’s passport, and -”

“Oh! I have it.  All of Jamie’s travel documents are in his office.” Willie was glad he had that, at least. 

“Good.  Now, gather all that up and, listen carefully, ye need to get his art supplies.”  Jenny stopped, and put a hand on Willie’s arm.  “He draws when he’s stressed.  He’ll need the distraction.  Get it all together and give it to Ian.” She pushed him forward, “Now go!”

Willie streaked off to do her bidding.

Jenny had Alec drive at break neck speed to Jamie and Claire’s flat.   She threw what she could into a bag, jeans, tee shirts, a few socks, trainers, jacket. She threw some things in for Claire as well.  Soft sleep pants and a softer sweater.  Toiletries.  Where the hell was his underwear!?!  She opened a top drawer and rummaged around.  

The small gold object caught her eye.  She hadn’t seen it in years. Instinctively, she grabbed it, and slamming the drawer shut, turned to go.  She was in and out of the flat in 15 minutes.  

Ian and Jamie were waiting inside the small terminal when she got there.  Her brother was turning his phone over and over in his large hands.  She put the bag next to his feet in silence.    

When the flight was ready, Jenny walked Jamie to the steps.  Ian handed the steward the bag.    

“Jenny, I-“

“Shhhh, brother.”  She grabbed Jamie around his shoulders and hugged him tight.  His arms gripped her as he buried his face in her neck.  God, he was burrowing in like Wee Jamie after he’s fallen off his bike. She had no words for him.  She would not lie and tell him it would be all right.  Lord only knew what was happening in France.  “Give Claire a hug for me, and tell her I love her.” Jamie nodded against her neck.  She turned quickly and gave him a kiss on his temple.  

Grabbing his hand, she pressed the small oval piece into his palm.  “I found this.  Take it.  Let it give ye strength.”  

Jamie looked at it, eyes wide.

“Go on,” Jenny said.  “Call me as soon as you know something.”

Jamie let go, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded, looking at the tarmac the whole time.  

He turned towards the plane, but found himself in a hard embrace.  Ian gripped his brother-in-law, and friend tightly.  No words were exchanged. Whatever one needed, the other would give.  They had been through too much together, their bond understood.  Ian was the one person who knew exactly what Jamie was thinking and feeling.  

How life could change in the blink of an eye.

How you could be whole, and happy, feeling right with the world, and then have your heart and mind shattered like the cracks in a windshield after a crash, spreading out in front of you until you can’t see anything of the world at all. Just fragments.  Fractures.  Shattered pieces.  Or worse yet, missing.  

Jamie sat alone on the plane looking out of the window as Scotland disappeared below him.  He still had the token from Jenny in his hand.  He closed his fist around it, hard, and looked out at the clouds surrounding him. He raised his eyes higher, heavenward.  Lord that she may be safe. She and the child.  


It was all over when he arrived.  

He was ushered to a waiting room, and made to sit by himself.  Finally, a small toad-like man entered, and introduced himself as Dr. Raymond.  His first thought was, Claire said ye looked like a frog.  She wasna wrong.  Jamie’s mouth lifted in half a smile as he stood to extend his hand to the doctor.  

Raymond explained that Claire was currently receiving some units of blood to replace what she’d lost.  Once assured Claire would be fine, Jamie had asked about his child.  

The wee man barely came up to the centre of Jamie’s chest, yet his words had the power to knock him backwards, stumbling into a chair.   

His child was mort-nè.  

Still born.  

Jamie felt fragile, paper thin, like velum, that if he moved too fast or spoke to loudly he would tear in half.   

“Your wife suffered a placental abruption.  This is when the placental lining separates from the uterus.  Sometimes the mother does not feel anything, and sometimes she feels, maybe, some pain in the back.  Unfortunately, the infant was not receiving enough oxygen in utero, so….” The doctor paused, then said in his heavy French accent, “I am sorry for your loss, Monsieur.”

Jamie nodded, and swallowed.  His emotions were so raw, he found himself unable to speak.  His thoughts were a tangle, like a net cast out to sea and caught on a rocky shore.  Fear wrapped itself around his gut, making him wonder if this was, somehow, his fault.  

“Can I ask ye a question?” Jamie said.

Dr. Raymond blinked slowly, and nodded once.    

“Is this my fault?  Should I – “ Jamie stopped.  It was difficult to talk of personal things, private things.  

He thought back to the night before she left, how he drove into his wife, hard and fast, angry that she was leaving, desperate to have her knowing he would miss her, with fear in his veins over their impending separation. More like making a point, than making love. He would rather die than to have been the one to cause the tear.

He gathered his courage, began again.  “The last time, when I had, well, sex with my wife…should I have been gentler?  Maybe….maybe been more considerate of her…of her….condition?”  

The physician simply shook his head, and said quite bluntly, “No, Monsieur. That is not the cause.  You are a fine husband.  It is not possible.”  

Absolved of his sin, Jamie sat back in the chair and exhaled.

But that didn’t absolve Claire.  Jamie took a deep breath, then said what was on his mind next, a thought that was eating at him like a corrosive.  

“I never wanted her to come, ye see.  She…Claire…she doesna do things in half measure, ye ken.  I worried she’d overdo.  So.”  He looked Dr. Raymond straight in the eye, and asked, “Did she?  Did she do too much?  On her feet all hours?  Not stopping, or getting proper rest?” 

Jamie rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them.  He felt ice cold to the marrow of his bones.  “Tell me she rested.  Tell me she took care, that this wasna her fault, either,” he whispered, ashamed, “because I don’t…I don’t want to hate my wife.”  

Dr. Raymond looked at this red man.  The aura around him.  He would fight to the death for the things he loved.  Raymond understood he was fighting now. Fighting for the love that was being consumed by his fear.

“Monsieur Fraser, I can tell you that many times the cause is unknown. Sometimes the placenta does not attach in a place that provides adequate support, and it may not develop appropriately, or it may separate as it grows.” The little man leaned forward in an effort to reassure Jamie, “I can tell you that Dr. Fraser was not reckless or foolish.  Anyone could see that the child in her womb came first.”

The door opened then, and the young nurse he’d seen from Claire’s video called for the doctor. He couldn’t follow all of her rapid French, but when Dr. Raymond jumped up, Jamie instinctively followed.  

He stepped inside the room.  Claire’s room.  A Dhia, she looked so pale.  She was as stark a white as the hospital linens, the dark of her hair like an ink blot on the pillow.  Her arm thin, slack, even though the deep red liquid flowing through the tube in her arm was promising life.  

He understood a few words.  Fever.  Infection.  

Jamie watched in shock as the little man laid his hands on Claire.  Her shoulders, her arms.  Murmuring in French the entire time.  He sent the nurse for another drip, and she scurried out of the room hardly sparing Jamie a glance.  He flinched as the doctor ran his hands over Claire’s breasts, and down her torso, lightly but touching her all the same.  The healer then placed his hands over his wife’s womb, and Claire writhed in pain.  

More blood.  Jesus, God, how could there be so much blood.

And then, his name.

Ripped from Claire.  In pain.  In desperation.  Like a magnet, it drew him.  It was strange, how his name dragged from her remaining strength reverberated in his soul.  He took a step towards her before he’d realized he’d moved, and found himself stopped with a vise grip on his arm.  He turned to find a large woman, Hildegard according to the name tag, telling him, “Vous devez partir, Monsieur.”


When she woke up she was a bit disoriented.  Memory surfaced.  Grief washed over her like a tidal wave.  For a moment she could not breathe.  

Turning her head she saw her 6’4” husband folded into a tiny chair beside her bed.  She had no memory of his arrival. 

He was sketching.  He looked tired, wan, pale.  His eyes darting over his drawing as his big hand moved in strong sure strokes.  

“Do you hate me for it, Jamie?” she whispered, wanting to know.  Her biggest fear, that Jamie would blame her.  What was more pain?  Better to roll it all into one great big ball of grief, and deal with it.

He jumped.  “Didna realize ye were awake, Sassenach.”  Jamie set down his computer.  

Claire relaxed at the use of her nickname.  

“Jamie, I’m so sorry.  So very, very sorry.  I put myself before our family.  This is all my fault.”  

“Shhh, mo neighean donn.  Yer a doctor, ye ken well it’s no’ yer fault.”  Jamie moved his chair closer to her bed, and took one small, weak, long-fingered hand in his two large ones. Tears slipped from her eyes at his gentleness.  

Jamie didn’t have any words.  There was nothing to say.   He couldn’t fix what happened.  He couldn’t change the loss.  He could just share it.  

They sat like that for some time.  Glancing at each other.  Letting their hands speak for them, thumbs stroking, fingers squeezing, softly rubbing.  Jamie’s thumb touched her ring from time to time.  

Finally, Claire spoke.  “I want to see her.”


“My wife,” Jamie stopped.  Cleared his throat.  “My wife wants to see our child.” He stood in front of the nurses’ station, hands clenched into balls at his side, standing as tall as he could.

“Ce n’est pas possible, Monsieur,” said Nurse Hildegarde.  It wasn’t the answer Jamie wanted.  He had been powerless to this point.  This, however, he would control.  

“I didna ask yer permission.  I didna say can she, I said she wants to.  So she doesna have to imagine.”  He willed himself not to raise his voice, to keep his anger in check.  

The young nurse, Louise, looked up at him.  She looked at her superior. Stand-offs like this were rare.  Usually no one questioned Nurse Hildegard. Everyone stopped to look at the large, grieving, red haired man.  Nurse Hildegarde opened her mouth to speak again, but caught sight of the little practitioner behind Monsieur Fraser.

“Soeur Hildegard. Presénter l’enfant à Dr. et M. Fraser.  Vous avez ma permission.”   


Claire was sitting up in bed when he entered the room.  The bundle in his arms was so tiny.  A pink blanket.   As he came nearer she could see the tiny face peeking through.  Sleeping.  No, Claire remembered, not sleeping.  

“Her hair,” Jamie said, smiling sadly, “she’s got my hair.”

Claire raised her arms for the baby, and Jamie gently handed her their child as if handling fragile glass.  There was that awkward bobble of a new dad not sure what he’s doing to a new mom too eager to hold her baby.  They both chuckled at that.  Jamie sat on the edge of the bed, his arm around his wife, the other under her arms that held the baby.  They stayed like that, silently, as Claire unwrapped parts of their bairn, counting ten fingers, and ten toes. Stroking the luminescent skin.  She chuckled at the tiny ears, which stuck out a bit, like Jamie’s.  He nudged her in understanding, chuffed.  So beautiful.

And then Claire began to sing.

When Nurse Louise came in an hour later she was moved by the tableau before her.  Her friend, Claire, rocking slowly, humming.  Jamie, her husband, sitting stoic beside her.  Neither taking their eyes from their child.  

She approached the bed. 

“Ma Chere, Claire.  Il est temps.”

When Louise left the room closing the door behind her, Claire thoroughly and completely went to pieces.  

Jamie held his wife across his lap.  

And did the same.


Sitting on the private plane to go home Claire looked out the window at the terminal traffic.  Everyone so busy, oblivious to the people they were shuttling on to planes, the bags they were loading, the lives they were moving along. Jamie sat beside her, holding her hand.  They spoke little.  She still couldn’t believe they were alone on this plane.  Jamie insisted.  He said he’d had enough of strangers.  

“I don’t want to forget her face,” Claire whispered, head back, curls pressed against the head rest.  “I’m afraid I’ll forget her face.”

Jamie let go of her hand.  “I ken it may be strange.  I’m sorry if it bothers ye. But I had to,” he said, quietly, apologetically.  He fumbled in his pocket.  “For Jenny.  For my sister.  She would want to see, ye ken.  She’s all I’ve got for family, other than you, Claire.”

There, on his phone screen, looking as if she was sleeping peacefully, was Faith Elizabeth Fraser. 


One year later

They walked slowly through the cemetery.  Jamie’s hands deep in his pockets, as he did when he was nervous.  Claire’s arms were crossed in front of her, as she did when she was nervous, a bouquet of tulips gripped in her hand.  They walked as if they really didn’t want to arrive at their destination, lost in their own thoughts, steps hesitant.  

It was the first time they would visit her grave.  One year to the day when she passed.  

“She should be over here.”  Jamie hung back and let Claire step up first.
Claire’s gasp was audible from where he stood.  She dropped to her knees, and laid a hand reverently on the stone.  A stone.  She hadn’t expected a stone.  They hadn’t ordered one.  She expected a simple marker, not this beautiful, pale pink granite slab. 

Jamie crouched beside her.  He cleared his throat.  “A Da can only give what he can to his bairn.  I’m an artist.  So.  I gave her a resting place, wit’ her name and our names, and placed her in the care of her grandparents.  Yers and mine.”  He brushed a leaf off the corner of the stone.  “And I left a bit of Scotland wi’ her.”

She traced the tiny gold medal imbeded in the stone under Faith’s name. “What is this?”

“It’s St. Andrew,” Jamie said.  “My father used to carry the medal around in his pocket. It would remind him to pray, to ask for intercession when he needed it. It became mine.  Jenny gave it to me when I left for France.  When I ordered the stone I gave it to them, along with the design.”  

They stayed for a long time, holding hands, lost in their own thoughts.  
Jamie stood, and pulled his wife to her feet.  Wrapping his arms around her shoulders he buried his face in her sweet smelling curls.  The sun shone warm on their faces, as Jamie swayed from side to side.

“So.  Now would be a good time to tell me something, Claire Fraser,” he said, next to her ear.  “Anything ye like.”  

Claire butted backwards and hit her husband in the crotch.  He let out a soft “oof” and laughed.

“I have nothing to say, James Fraser,” she said, in her haughtiest tone.   

“Hmpf,” Jamie made a Scottish noise, and turned Claire around to face him. “Yer sure, then?”  

Claire stood on tiptoes and kissed her husband full on the lips. “Five days is not a long time, you know that.”

“Aye, but yer never late.”  He grinned at her.  “It’s fine, Sassenach.  I’ll wait. Besides,” he said softly, “I have you.  And faith.”  

Princess of Themyscira: Part 6

Prompt: When the world is invaded and your world is turned upside down, you’re forced to make a choice that will rule your future

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four. Part Five


My Daughter,

    I’m not quite sure where to begin. I hope you never have to read this letter, but the warrior in me, says that is a dream. I believe I will soon meet my end. I face it with my head held high, knowing that this is my sacred duty … a duty that will be entrusted to you when I am gone.

    Man’s world is a troubled place. It is filled with evil, and deceit. But there is good, and I am so grateful that you grew up surrounded by it. Within man’s world there are caring, loving, and faithful people who must be protected.

    For years I have stood up for those who could not. I vanquished enemies determined to decimate the good of this world. Now I entrust that duty to you. I apologise in advance. This path is not easy, and you will be faced with difficult choices. However, I believe this is as much your destiny as much as it was mine.

    I have upheaved your life once already. I have forced you away from the world you know and love, and delivered you to my sisters. I have no doubt that they have welcomed you, trained you, and most importantly, loved you. Now I am upheaving it again, by asking you to finish what I started.

    I have left you the necessary items in our secret place. May they aid you in the same way they aided me.

    My dear, sweet, daughter. You are so loved. Your brothers will help guide you, and your father and I will wait for you until your time comes. I pray this isn’t for many years. Live your life my dear one. Live and thrive and know that you are not only my daughter, but your father’s daughter. You are unstoppable.

    With all my love,

        Your mother

    You pace as you read the letter. You do your best to ignore the eyes on you until you’re done. Sighing, you fold up the letter and ask, “Who’s read it?”

    “No one, Miss Wayne. It came straight to my hands upon your mother’s death. I have kept it safe.”

    You nod, “But she told you what she wants me to do.”

    Alfred’s face never falters, “She told me her hopes Miss Wayne, but she would never demand it of you.”

    “The world does though.”

    “Not everyone is meant to shoulder the weight of the world as your parents did. And as much, as I would love for you to return home, I can see you’ve made a home for yourself here as well. You have found a second family, one who cares for you. Your mother would never begrudge you that.”

    Io answers before you can, “Because you know so much about our princess?” You shoot Io a warning look, but you should have known better. Alfred had never required anyone to protect him. He had always fended for himself, and the family.

    “Ma’am, I never claimed to know more about Ms. Diana than you. But I believe I knew her fairly well. She was a strong and independent woman who loved with her whole heart, and only wanted the best for those she loved. If Miss Y/N is happy here, then I see no reason for her to leave.”

    Your grandmother’s voice rings out next, “You knew my daughter well?”

    Alfred’s smile is gentle and kind, “Yes, your majesty, I did. I raised Master Bruce after his parents died. He was a lonely boy, very bright, and very secluded. He blossomed under the love your daughter gave him, and reciprocated it one hundred percent. As a result, I watched these children, including their daughter grow up. I’d like to think, that after all those years, we might know something about her as well.”

    Silence engulfs everyone there, and after several minutes you say, “I need to think.”

    Without another word, you walk away. You walk for several miles, until you’re out of sight. Assured, that you’re alone, you take out the letter and read it again, and again, and again.

    You feel their presence, but don’t speak until they sit down around you. Io, is the first to speak, “I’m sorry … I was out of line.”

You give her a small smile, “You were worried Io. It’s okay.”

“I felt anger at seeing them. They took your mother from us, and now I fear they’ll take you as well.”

You sigh, “My mother left of her own free will.”

“And what will you do with your free will?” Artemis asks. You hand her the letter and wait until everyone has read it.

There’s silence for several minutes before you say, “She made sure I was prepared.”

“I fear this may be too much for you to handle alone.” Calyce says.

You nod, “I know it is, but I’ll have the League and the Team.”

“And us.” Artemis states.

You spin around to face your friends, “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You didn’t ask, we are simply declaring our intentions.” Euboea states.

“We have already lost one princess, we will not lose another,” Io whispers.

Artemis smiles at you, “Man’s world is in turmoil. It will take more than one woman to fix it.”

You smile, and stand up, your friends follow suit, “Let’s just hope the manor is still standing.”

You return to the group on the beach, and the look in your grandmother’s eyes tells you she knows. She gives a small smile, “You are your mother’s daughter I would expect nothing less.” Her eyes go past you to your friends, “You understand this decision? The duty you are undertaking?”

They answer in unison, “We do our queen.”

She nods, “May your work be swift. Aid my grand-daughter, your princess in her mission. Lend her your strength.” Her attention turns to you, “Be strong little one, and don’t forget to visit.”

You asked me if
I like purple and
you know the way
you can tell someone
likes something just 
by the way they ask the
question?

So I said yes, I love purple,
even though my parents 
hate it and really I only own
one purple shirt, 


and you told me you love it
but not light colors, only 
darks, and never violet.


So lately I’ve been dreaming
in purple and it’s been so dark
that I can never find you.

—  And I’m still looking.
Q&A Saturday!

It’s Q&A Saturday! I’ve gotten a lot of new followers recently, so I just want to explain again that every other Saturday, it’s Q&A! It’s when I try to answer as many of your questions as I can! <3 This week I’m doing questions I wasn’t able to answer when my pen broke, so that’s why I didn’t make an announcement, but! You’re welcomed to send any questions you want for next Q&A or to be answered soonish with text! This post btw is non-squid! There will be a squid ver soon!

I’m not sure if you meant the pillow defense thing or just pillow kisses in general but I hope this is okay! <3

Not that he is very romantic, but he is less guarded of his heart than Garrett (but they both take a loooooong time to come to terms that they’re in love)! But in almost any universe, Dario is the first to say “I love you” but Garrett doesn’t take long to catch up  💕

While I mostly welcome shipping, Garrett is exclusively gay (side note: Dario is bisexual and Mei is aromantic) and he’s not really Mei’s type anyways LOL They’re good bros tho! 

(It’s a really sensitive topic for Dario)

I’m not sure if they would ever be ready for kids, but I drew this before so here you go! <3 I’m not sure about the name yet, but she’s got her dad’s love of sports and her other’s dad love of goofing off! 

She’s both “what their kid would look like” and their adopted daughter if they get one, because they just love her to death <3 

I’m sort of anti-genderbend (sorry!) It’s something I try to avoid, but I do have a rough draft from when I designed Kathy as a genderfluid boy! Using he/they, Keith is a gentle guy with a love for music!

(Sorry, I got serious vibes from Susan/Mandark’s hippie days LOL)

ROAR. (Imagine a soft honk) Also that’s probably because Dario is a lionhead bun! <3 Lionhead buns are called that because, you guess it, they have a mane around their faces! All my buns have set breeds that made them look that way (like Kathy/Jaleena being dwarf buns)

AAA! I’m glad you can! I’m worried my Spanish is iffy sometimes so I’m happy to hear this! Please let me know if I ever make mistakes! <3 And thank you for your nice words!  (I need to incorporate more Spanish dialogue with Dario/Gabby/Cable too)

It’s very rare, but the last one I watched was Mob! It was a good show ; O ; 

The answer, though, is yes, they do! Garrett gets cuddly and Dario welcomes it! And for reference, here is my NSFW blog! Tread with caution!

Oo! Dario’s perf idea of a date would be taking Garrett to try something outdoors and fun, like swimming, hiking, rock climbing, etc! Garrett’s not really into exercise, though, and rather spends their date watching movies at home with takeout. But! I think they would both agree that their favorite dates are the time they spend together in private (like watching the stars, cuddling in bed, taking naps together). Dario loves it most when Garrett falls asleep on him, and Garrett loves it most when Dario opens up to him during their talks.

Whoa! It’s nice to see excitement like this, aa! Q v Q Yes, Garrett loves watching Dario work out and play sports! He admires his athleticism! Dario’s fave sports is soccer and track, with an occasional baseball and basketball for fun! I’m not sure what he’d be bad at, probably anything that requires thinking/accuracy? Like archery, golfing, etc. And Dario does get hurt a lot but nothing really all that serious, and Garrett (so far) hasn’t been hurt yet watching (especially since he tends to watch from a distance, he doesn’t like crowds). And I can’t reveal any details, I def need to work on their stories soon, haha!

Yes, he has! Dario’s hair is a very dark brown but he dyes it to a lighter brown!

LOL It’s also funny because I’ve drawn him in one of Shakira’s outfit before

Now that I got my pen back, YES! I’m excited to draw my boys again! <3 And welcome all my new followers to my blog! Thank you for following and I really hope you enjoy your stay!


That’s all the asks I can answer for today! Thank you for all the questions! I hope you enjoyed this, it was was a lot of fun to do! Please don’t hesitate to send me more to answer next time and see you all next Saturday! <3

Thanks for reading! Bye! Love you all and have a lovely weekend!! <3