you are pretty and witty and bright!!!!

The Signs Gaze

*Check rising, sun and venus*

Aries: burning with intensity it’s pretty easy to know what they feel by their gaze, kinda intimidating and always staring at you dead in the eye. You can spot a little mischief in them. Probably black or grey.

Taurus: beautiful eyes no matter the color, there’s always something amazing about them. Usually looking right ahead and hard to intimidate. There’s a sweet spark in them. Probs brown or green.

Gemini: witty eyes that can kill you just with one look, there’s something entrancing about them, like they are hiding what they truly feel. Very likely to change of color depending on the light or clothes.

Cancer: bright eyes that look like they could tear up at any moment, pretty shy, probably looking at everything around them, most of them don’t like to make eye contact. However they can do it if they feel challenged or threatened. Can be blue or hazel, not very big but still beautiful.

Leo: they look at everything, very observant, but still sensual, making it pretty hard not to stare. Full of confidence, even if they don’t feel like it. Maybe brown or green.

Virgo: Not very expressive, but there is something calming and kind about them. With a clever spark they can make you wonder what are they up to this time. Might be brown or blue-ish and pretty big.

Libra: flirty, dreamy eyes that convey happiness. Even if they’re not feeling okay it’s their usual facade. Get easily distracted by their surroundings, but they know when it’s important to focus. Can be green or blue.

Scorpio: even if they have a light color, they have a dark gleam, like if they were full of secrets and memories they keep only for themselves. Very observant and sharp, looking like they don’t miss a thing. Possibly black or dark blue.

Sagittarius: a playful almost teasing appearance, can have a faraway expression sometimes, possibly wondering what new adventure they can make out of the situation. Likely to be brown or green.

Capricorn: a calculating, fixed gaze, they are determined and rarely wander off, unless something picks their interest. Possibly dark brown or light blue with very nice eyelashes btw.

Aquarius: very straight forward and maybe a little defiant, shining with intelligence, pretty detached most of the time but hella intense when they connect with their emotions. Maybe something in between green and blue.

Pisces: seriously suuch pretty eyes full of daydream, will make you fall in love instantly. Very expressive when focused, though. There’s a warmth about them that makes you feel at home. Probably brown or light blue with little freckles underneath.

omgkatsudonplease  asked:

prompt: "my brain is a carefully curated pinterest board"

set in the sherlock au verse!!! :D (unofficially)

“I just don’t understand how you remember so many inane things when you can’t even remember which order the months go in,” Yuuri complained, though his eyes were soft and fond as he shot an exasperated glance at Victor over the rim of his coffee cup.

Victor leaned back in his seat, the ambient noise of Charlotte’s Corner swirling around them. Victor paid no attention to it; Yuuri was much more interesting. He offered an indulgent smile. They’d been living with each other for a few months now, the distance between them growing smaller and smaller as they got to know each other better.

Still, they each had their mysteries—and the mysteries they shared were the most interesting of all.

“My mind is a carefully curated Pinterest board, Yuuri,” Victor said with a dainty, haughty sniff.

Yuuri snorted into his triple espresso. “Did you sneak onto Yuuko’s desktop again?”

Victor pouted into his travel mug of Earl Gray. “No.” He didn’t like to think that these few moments he could steal with Yuuri before his classes and clinic shifts would be taken up by allusions that he was anything less than impressive.

…but really, he just wanted to impress Yuuri. He always wanted to impress Yuuri.

Yuuri arched a brow. The stark white collar of his med coat was peeking out from under his puffy winter jacket. “No? Really? Would you perjure yourself if we were in court right now?”

“…I didn’t sneak anywhere. Yuuko gave me permission to use her desktop,” Victor admitted, but Yuuri’s bark of laughter was worth the gloom of confessing to anything less than extraordinary. “It’s an interesting website, Yuuri. And an adequate analogy! You know how my brain works.”

“Enough to know you won’t remember Pinterest next week now that you’ve made your reference. How long have you been sitting on that line?” Yuuri’s grin was bright; his eyes shone behind his glasses, and it was almost worth the implication that Victor lived his life from cheap trick to cheap trick, from witty quip to another one-liner… no matter how true that may be.

Victor scuffed his feet under the café table. The toe of his oxford shoe caught Yuuri’s winter boot. “You wound me, Yuuri. Pretty soon I’ll be forced to think you don’t hold me in high regard at all.”

Yuuri shook his head, a fond little gesture that spoke familiarity and affection more than agreement to Victor’s complaint. “There’s no one I think more highly of. You know that.”

Victor blinked. He stared. His lips parted and he exhaled, even as the rapt attention drew a pink stain to Yuuri’s cheeks. “Really?”

“Come on. I can make fun of you and still admit you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met, can’t I?”

Yuuri’s eyes were downcast now; he worried his lip between his teeth. And then Victor felt Yuuri’s foot under the table—a flicker of warmth, even at the shiver of cold as the icy boot hooked around the back of his ankle.

Victor let out a long, low, silent breath. He smiled against the plastic lid of his cup. “Sometimes you forget to mention that second part.”

“It’s true.” Yuuri drummed his fingers against his to-go cup, then turned a wry smirk back on Victor. “Even if I don’t say it often.”

Contentment. Victor’s eyes lingered on Yuuri—the beautiful shapes of him, a miracle of physics and biology all wrapped up in that truly terrible winter coat. “I’ll remember that,” Victor vowed.

Yuuri tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest, and his voice was private and only for Victor when he replied, “Yes, I’m sure you will.”

The Morning After The Night Before

Characters: Reader, Steve

Summary: The fall out of your friends discovering that Tequila is your kyptonite.

Word Count: 1713 words

Prompt:  Steve, ‘You’re important too.’ And  ‘I noticed’

A/N: This one is for a wonderful anon and the fabulous @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester who requested this from my 300 celebration ‘100 ways to say I Love You.’  I joined these two together because it just fit so damned well.  It kinda turned into a part two from Truth and Tequila but you can read it by itself.

Part 1

Originally posted by imagine-that-marvel

Daylight permeated your vision and you groaned.  Turning your head felt the subtle pounding of the mother and father of all headaches with the possibility of a whole load of baby headaches coming along shortly.  Your mouth was dry and it felt like you had been licking a bear for at least three hours in your sleep.  And not a cute little animated bear, a full-blown grizzly who had been wandering in the woods for years and hadn’t bathed in its entire memory.  Forcing one eye open you look down and realise that you were still in last nights clothes.  Well, at least you weren’t waking up in someone elses room naked you thought to yourself.  Just as you were considering turning over and going back to sleep an alarm sounded through the tower.  Leaping up you immediately regretted your reflexes as the room span.  “FRIDAY, what the hell is going on?” you manage to ask, your voice husky and several octaves lower than usual.

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There’s been a man fixing my kitchen sink for almost an hour now and I feel too awkward to go about my business, so I’m just sitting on my couch frozen and petrified. Why can’t service people bring friends? Or their own radio to listen to? Worse, why do they try to initiate contact with me when I’ve got no make up on, in a bathrobe, and a facial mask plastered over my face? I don’t want to talk to you about my weekend, I want you to give me clear water again and leave.

I feel pretty, guys. I feel pretty and witty and bright.


Looks Like They Didn’t Need Our Help After All 

It was just another night for you here in Gotham City. That was of course until a group of thugs grabbed and threw you into the back of their truck. A brown sack is still covering your head when the vehicle stops, so you have to rely on your other senses. The only sound that can be heard is the quiet chatter of the men who took you but there is a distinct smell of rotted wood and damp among a few other unpleasant smells. You screw your face up in disgust underneath the material that is currently covering your face. 

Finally, the back doors of the van open up and two guys grab each of your arms and usher you out. “And to think I thought you guys had forgotten all about me.” You say to them jokingly. “You could of at least picked a better place to hold me hostage this place smells like your grandma’s.” They shove you onto a wooden chair and restrain you with ropes. 

“Looks like we got ourselves a smart mouth, Hal.” A gravelly voice says to the other. 

“You guys have done this before, huh? It’s just I can’t help but feel I’m dealing with non-professionals here.” You never did learn to stop talking in inappropriate situations, plus you love agitating people. 

“We know what we’re doing.” The one called Hal scoffs and dismisses your comment. He proceeds to tie the rope tighter around your wrists and ankles to ensure there is no way you can get away. 

“If you say so, Hal. Can I call you Hal?” You tilt your head to the side with the brown bag still firmly attached. “This thing is a little itchy be a doll and take it off at least?” 

“Fine.” He growls and does as you ask, seeing no harm in it. 

For the next few minutes, you spend your time observing the group of men around you. Their grip around their guns grows tighter as time passes. They appear to be rather nervous, proving that they are total amateurs. Knowing this makes you smirk. You adjust yourself on your chair, making yourself more comfortable. Listening as they make demands to your father (the Mayor of Gotham) as a ransom for your life. 

“I’m only worth two million, really?” You are almost offended. “Come on guys, think bigger!” 

“In fact make that five million.” They amend their demand. 

“That’s more like it!” You manage to move your seat forward by moving your body up and down.

“Is it just me or do you think it’s a little weird they ain’t scared?” One of them whispers and the other just shrugs their shoulders in response. 

I feel pretty. Oh, so pretty. I feel pretty and witty and bright!” You sing from the top of your lungs enthusiastically. Everyone gives you a strange look and some even appear uncomfortable. “Come on, sing it with me, Frankie! I know you know the words!” 

“Shut up before I blow your brains out.” Hal points his gun directly at you. 

“Jeez.” You raise your eyebrows in response. “How charming.” You roll your eyes before humming the rest of your song. 

“She better be worth this goddamn cash.” 

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I loved you. You were my actual everything. I cared about you. I still do. I still wonder what it would be like if we were together. We would have been perfect. I still have dreams about you. That much is still very true. I talk to you everyday but you won’t reply after a while. It makes me wonder what happened. Every time I see you I fall in love all over again. Your eyes a pretty hazel and your hair just perfect. Your smile so bright and your laugh is like a contagious disease. The way you dance, the way you sing, the way you always have a witty remark. Everything. I love everything. You’re flaws. The things you hate or deem ugly. The things you think are unattractive I find attractive. I find you attractive in many ways than just one. You’re actual perfection with flaws. You’re personality is amazing, you’re super cute, your intelligence, your wits, you’re also everything a person wants. You just don’t believe me. My actual truth speaks out. I love you and I won’t stop. I know you’re afraid, but I just want that chance. I can treat you right and make you feel like a princess. I can make you feel like nothing was ever wrong. I can make you feel more loved. I know I’m not perfect either, actually I’m the farthest thing from it, but I can try my hardest not to lose you, because in my eyes, you’re a person worth fighting for.

Pietro Maximoff One Shot

Summary: You’re at a gala and you and Pietro end up in an awkward situation that involves a slow dance and coming to terms with your feelings. Also implied smut.

Your name: submit What is this?


You’d always found Pietro attractive but you could never admit to yourself that you had feelings for him. 

There was no real reason for this aside from the fact that you were completely terrified that he wouldn’t feel the same way about you. He was a natural flirt, or so you believed, so it wasn’t strange for him to flirt with you and you couldn’t come to the conclusion that he liked you by his flirting. So you decided, in your mind, that you didn’t like Pietro and you couldn’t get attached because your jobs were too risky and you could die. This seemed like a logical reason to you when you thought about it in the shower.

“Come dance with me,” Pietro was suddenly at your side, making you nearly drop the champagne glass you were holding as you put a hand to your heart.

“I’m not much of a dancer.” 

“I saw you and Steve dancing earlier!” 

You dipped your champagne glass towards him slightly, wiggling your eyebrows.

“Jealous?” you teased, secretly hoping he was. You tried not to obviously check him out because you’d seen him earlier from a distance and oh god, he looked good. You, along with most of the Avengers, were attending a gala in honour of being heroes and saving the world, as well as raising money that went towards fixing the damage you’d done in order to save the world. And Pietro, naturally, took your breath away as he tidied up quite nice. You never knew you wanted to see him in a suit. 

“Like you were when I was talking to the girl in the lovely red dress over there?” the smirk grew on his face, “you forget that my sizter is able to read minds.” 

Your face turned bright pink, placing your glass on a tray as a waiter went by and taking Pietro’s hand in yours. 

“You suck, you know that?” you grumbled, his smirk turning into a bright smile as you lead him to the dance floor. 

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Imagine: Being Han Solo’s best friend and Princess Leia gets between you two

For anon… Enjoy!

You sat back in the co-pilot’s seat of the Millennium Falcon, resting your feet on the dashboard. Han, who was lounging in the pilot’s seat, reached forward and swatted at your toes, waving them away as if they were pests.

“Hey, I work hard to keep this ship nice! I don’t need your muddy boots messing that up!” He growled jokingly, a half smile creeping its way on to his face when he saw you laughing at him. 

“Han, there’s literally a ball of Wookie hair under this chair.” You remarked, motioning to a wad of brown hair on the floor, which was about the size of a guinea pig. 

The smuggler made a face at it. 

“Chewy!” He yelled and a faint, familiar roar reverberated around the ship, echoing off of the walls. 

“Start cleaning up after yourself, ya big fuzzball!” Han hollered back and you could hear Chewbacca’s mocking simper. You pictured the massive Wookie sassing Han and you broke into a fit of laughter, an embarrassing snort vibrating your nose. 

Han looked at you in astonishment, his eyes wide and his mouth open, curved into a massive smile. 

“Did you just snort?” He chuckled, covering his mouth with your hands. 

You held your stomach, nodding quickly. Your breath was coming out in short gasps and your cheeks were starting to hurt from the constant smiling. 

That was when Leia walked in. 

The Millennium Falcon was currently stationed in the secret rebel base on Hoth, alongside Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia, who were almost forcing Han to stay there. You knew it was for his protection, since the entire Empire was on the hunt for the smuggler. You did feel bad for him, since he was so used to not staying in one place for an extended amount of time. 

Your laughter suddenly ceased when Leia entered the cockpit, finishing the braid that wound around her head. She was wearing a heavy white coat, complete with pristine white boots and bright red lipstick. Although you hated to admit it, she looked stunning.

Han looked up at her, his eyes twinkling. 

“How’s it going, princess?” He asked lazily. Leia smirked at him. 

“I’m fine, thanks.” She answered sarcastically, rolling her eyes dramatically. You had no idea why, but that bugged you greatly. 

“Hi Leia.” You said, almost obnoxiously. It wasn’t until the princess turned to you that you felt the heavy pressure on your shoulders, as if she had dropped weights on you. This was Princess Leia, after all. She was extremely intelligent, witty, gorgeous, an amazing leader, pretty much everything. You shifted under her stare, as if you were unworthy of being in her presence. 

“Hello.” She said, giving you a small, forced smile. You could tell she disliked you. 

Han Solo’s eyes glanced back and forth between the two of you and he raised his eyebrows, as if he was amused by the situation. 

“Leia, could you give us a second?” He asked the princess, smirking at her with as much charm as he could muster. Leia merely rolled her eyes and pushed a piece of hair off of his forehead. Her eyes were flooded with adoration. You wanted to puke. 

“Don’t take too long.” She cooed before stepping out of the cockpit, her strides across the floor light. 

As soon as she was out of range, you rolled your eyes dramatically, which made Han snort with laughter. 

“Geez, it’s as if it was the last time she would ever see you again.” You huffed, sitting cross-legged in the co-pilot’s chair. 

Han snickered. 

“Hey, it’s not her fault she fell for a gorgeous guy like me.”  

You chuckled lightly at his comment, but only half-heartedly. 

Almost as if he sensed your unease, his laughing stopped and he eyed you with confusion. 

“What is it?” Han asked, sitting up in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees. You averted your gaze from his. 

“It’s nothing.” You answered quickly, your cheeks starting to burn embarrassingly. 

Han narrowed his eyes. 

“I’ve known you long enough to know that something’s bothering you. What’s up?” 

Slowly, you looked back up at him, your eyes starting to water. 

“Leia’s perfect!” You blurted out, surprising yourself. “She’s perfect and amazing and smart and funny and fantastic and gorgeous and I’m just… I’m just… I’m just normal.” 

Han stared at you, his eyes wide. 

“You’re not just normal, you know.” He remarked, his eyebrows furrowed. 

You blinked frustrated tears from your eyes and felt a pang of shame as they rolled down your face. 

Han looked genuinely concerned and he moved towards you, holding out his hands. 

“Come here.” He muttered, his eyes interlocked with yours. 

“What?” You asked quietly, your voice ragged. Han got up from his seat and moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. 

Taken off guard, you quickly locked your hands behind his back, your heart starting to beat through your thin shirt. Han’s head was leaning against yours lightly and you melted into his comforting embrace, burying your face into his neck. 

The smuggler let out a sigh. 

“Well, I think you’re more amazing, smart, funny, fantastic, and gorgeous.” He commented. 

You smiled against the smuggler’s shoulder.



Now Mark was quite a struggle for the sorting hat. He contained attributes of both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, but it seemed that he would go far as a Hufflepuff. This boy would be extremely focused in class, unless his friends were in the same subject as him. Because of that, it’d result into him laughing constantly and little hiccups interrupting the professor. His laugh was cute though, but some people would find it annoying during class.  He’d have a soft spot for animals, concluding his favorite class as Care of Magical Creatures. Mark would also be a natural at Quidditch, even at his young age. He would be a chaser. Now you two would meet as you were a new student at Hogwarts. In one of your classes, you’d be trying to focus but would be interrupted by Mark’s giggle. Annoyed, you turned back and met with his face, red and out of breath. Mark would stop as he saw you and blush which then lead to your friendship.


Jaemin would be placed into Ravenclaw quickly, for his bright mind and witty personality. He would be pretty popular for his friendly nature. Girls would fawn over him constantly though Jaemin would never care. During his free times he’d decide to duel some of the first-years. Would that be fair? No, not really. He’d be the top of his class in Divination, which would make him extremely proud since it was such a hard class. Jaemin would be close friends with some Hufflepuffs not wanting to be friends with Ravenclaws since he doesn’t like being one-upped in conversations. Jaemin would be pretty good at flying but wouldn’t prefer to play Quidditch since he’d rather cheer for his team instead. For one exam, you realized you had a higher score than Jaemin did in one class. He didn’t really enjoy the constant bragging from you but you two decided to build a friendship from there.


Jeno would be sorted into Gryffindor due to his extreme determination and courage. Now this boy would be pretty quiet during class, probably dozing off in the back with his cloak covering him. Muggle studies would be his favorite class since he’d be fascinated how Muggles would live their everyday life. “Cars? How come they don’t have brooms? Gosh, they’re boring.” “Mobile games? Do they have nothing else to do with their life?” Jeno would be pretty into Quidditch, buying the latest hot new broom as soon as it came out. He’d be placed on the team as a Keeper. You’d be helping him understand that cars come in different variations and that not all muggles are boring. “Muggles don’t have screaming plants. Of course, they’re boring.”


This boy would immediately be put in Slytherin, being startled how loud the hat belted out “Slytherin!” right away. He isn’t exactly like a stereotypical Slytherin though. He gets quite annoyed about those stereotypes though. Donghyuck would have thick square glasses that he would pull down every time someone said something something offensive to him only to be struck by one of his famous comebacks. He’d take a real interest for his potions class. There would be textbooks filled with recipes lying all over his room. Donghyuck would be one of the best in his house at Quidditch, making him as a Seeker. You’d be pretty impressed by one of his witty comments at this stuck-up bully in your house. You’d confront him about it and take in some of his go-to comebacks that he taught you. Both of you soon became best friends.


Jisung would be new to the world of magic since he was a Muggle-born. A lost boy in Hogwarts, he’d be a first-year. He wouldn’t exactly know what “houses” were except the ones you live in back at his world. Not knowing where to go once a magic hat that was on his head screamed “Hufflepuff!”, he’d quickly shuffle to the table that were clapping and cheering as loud as they could. Jisung would quickly get used to the wizarding world though. You would be one of his first friends, helping him getting adjusted. Since Jisung was still new to magic, he’d be amazed at most of his classes and enjoy learning from them lots. He would have have a special liking for Charms though. “Jisung it’s LeviOsa, not LeviosAR!” He’d be pretty bad at Quidditch though. Jisung would stumble constantly trying to even get on the broom. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it one day Jisung!” Both of you would easily consider yourself as best friends since then and till the years come.

Under the cut you’ll find ### lyrics from seven Broadway shows. They could be useful for bios lyrics, sidebar descriptions, para titles, plot or character inspiration. The lyrics aren’t necessarily in order as they appear in the show, but they are grouped by song. My favorites are bolded. PS I would suggest looking up the context of the lyrics before using (especially because all these songs are too good to not listen to).  

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aussiesandgiraffes  asked:

how do you tell the difference between a Gemini sun as opposed to a Gemini ascendant?

Both are quite rational and witty but while gemini sun can be sarcastic or take too much pride in their knowledge and opinions, gemini ascendant pretty much always manifests as not taking the world very seriously and appearing bright and playful

Fight for every ounce of her love even when she’s already yours. Give her new reasons to laugh and smile, because you love it when her face turns bright red from blushing too much. Tell her how pretty she looks even when she sends the silliest selfies. Be kind to her and let her know you’re always there if she needs it. Touch her heart and soul, not just her body, because you know she’s been torn apart and her trust issues are never the best because of what happened before. Make up to her, don’t just apologize; actually make an effort to do better. But most importantly, love her for who she is: beautiful, intelligent, witty, bubbly, outgoing, sarcastic, genuine, strong, talented, charming, and every other adjective under the sun that you can never think of.
—  Me.
Dreamlike bonds

Sequel of ‘Realistic dreams’, combined with anons request (Griding on Sams lap, dom!Sam) - and of course for our mother of smut: Allie!

Summary: You can´t deny it: this one night at the hotel, alone with Sam, was just amazing! And you want to try out something he´ll love. So you bought some ‘requisites’ and surprise him.

Pairing: Reader x Sam

Words: ~ 3.200

Warnings: SMUT (light bondage, dom!Sam), language

You startle as you hear the knocking on the door. A little grin on your face, you lay down the book and hurry to the door. The mailman passes you the package, trying to sneak a peek into the bunker. But with swift moves, you get rid of him, heading to your room. You know that Sam and Dean are on a case, coming home in a few hours when everything goes according to plan.
Taking time for yourself, you take a long bath, making yourself pretty for him. Back in your room, you open your bottom drawer, looking for a certain box… And there it is: Placing it on your dresser, you take off the lid and smile on the lingerie you store there. Taking out a black bra with reddish laces, the matching thong and straps, you get ready for some fun. Storing your high heels in your personal bathroom – you insisted on this luxury – you take a good look at your room.

A bright smile appears on your face because of your witty idea: you take the chair, place it a meter in front of the bed and light up some candles. The room appears now in a soft light, underlining perfectly the curves of your body. The thought of Sams big hands, caressing your skin, makes you grin and already sending a heatwave through your body. Shaking the head, still grinning, you take something to write, leaving a note on the chair.

After redecorating your refugee to your entire satisfaction, you grab the package you received, unwrapping it and storing the content under your bed. The wide grin turns to a mischievous smirk as you take out your phone, sending Dean a message:

Where are you two?! I´m hungry!

Selecting a nice playlist on spotify, waiting patiently for Dean to respond, you giggle at the word ’hungry’. The tones of a thrilling song echo from the walls as you start to dance along. But they are overtoned by a message. Deans short answer: ’15 minutes, babygirl’.

Pouting, but happy you haven´t wait for too long, you sit down on your bed, texting Sam: ‘First thing you do: come to my room. Need your help!’.

You lower the music, hoping he gets the hint and appears without the older Winchester. Checking your make-up and appearance for the last time and examining the room, you smile. They should be home in a few minutes. Just in your underwear, you sneak out the room, strolling down the hallway. As you wander between those cold stonewalls, feeling the bare floor under your feet, you bite your bottom lip.

You can´t hide the excitement, the anticipation, hot shivers pulsing through your body. You are really nervous! Kneading your hands, you hear voices from further ahead. Without noticing, you almost reached the warroom, Sam and Dean already in the bunker. Internally cursing you turn on your heels and sprint back to your room, hearing Sams deep voice: “Can you check if there´s anything else? I´m gonna look after Y/N.”

Heart beating faster, you hear his steps right behind you. Running around the corner, you sneak into your room, leaving the door half open, heading for the bathroom. Not closing this door, just leaning to the frame, you put on the high heels, breathing deeply, trying to calm down before this seduction enters your room…


Your breath stocks, waiting. Hearing his dark chuckle after a few seconds, making your legs tremble, you know he read the note: ’Sit down. Eyes forward.

Silently pushing the door open, you turn on the music before your eyes fall on the chair: Sams back, dressed in his fed suit, overtops the backrest, making the chair look so little.

You approach him from behind, tenderly placing your hands on those broad shoulders, messaging them. Rewarded by this deep growling you admire so much, he lets fall back his head, eyes closed.


So he´ll see you in your whole outfit.
Your hands travel to his tie, loosening it.

“Wha -”

“Shhh.” You interrupt him, undoing his tie and covering his eyes with it. Before saying anything else, you lean down, forcefully snapping his head to his left, kissing his lips. “Just enjoy.” You whisper before walking around the chair and unbolting his jacket, taking it off slowly. While he helps you to take it off, you notice his wide grin but also the faster breathing. With quick fingers, you fumble at his shirt, pulling the fabric apart, revealing this wonderful chest of him. Taking a step back, you examine your ‘work’: Sam, with covered eyes, sits on your chair. The strong torso lifting and lowering with each breath. Those long, muscular legs in suit pants. Arms grabbing the armrests.

You bite your lower lip before closing up, turning around, placing your hands on his and lowering down on his lap. As you bare bottom cheeks touch the fabric of his pants, your grin widens again. Supporting your weight by leaning on his hands, you let your ass slowly move – from side to side, back and forth.

“Geez, Y/N!” The sharp hiss, coming out of Sams mouth makes you chuckle. And motivates you! Bit by bit you increase pace as well as the intensity with which you grind on him. Rewarded by Sams moaning and growling bulge, you keep on dancing on his lap, turning on the both of you.

Who would ever know, teasing each other can be so delighting? Til now, your hands hold down his, but now you grind backwards, your cheeks on his abdomen, stroking your damped thong against his arousal, your hands on his knees. With a mighty growl, Sam grabs your stomach and thigh, straighten you, kissing your back with plenty open-mouthed kisses. In addition to your excitement and wetness, his lips cause a hot shiver running down your spine, reaching your core, making you purr his name.

You turn around, feeling Sams kisses continue on your stomach, as you reach out for his shoulders, pushing him away. Still with his covered eyes, Sam sits back, grinning, hands resting on the armrests once more. Facing him, you sit down, saddle him – before grinding on his thighs again. The one hand on his shoulder you stabilize yourself as you rub your inner thighs against his legs, the other hand wandering down to his belt.

With quick fingers you unbolt belt and pants. You reach beyond the waistband, making him hiss before you cover his mouth with a long kiss. The heat rises, as you deepen the kiss, your tongue invading his perfect mouth. Stroking his length, you moan into his mouth, feeling his arousal getting harder. Suddenly he stands up, capturing and adjusting you, you swinging legs around him. His hands upon your ass, touching bare skin, a deep growl escapes from the back of his throat.

Still holding you up, he rips off the tie, examinig you.


With quick steps, he´s up to your bed, throwing you on it. As your eyes fall on Sam – standing there with open shirt and pants – you feel how you get wetter and definitely turned on just by looking at him.

You watch Sam leaning forward, ready to crawl up to you, but you stop him, smiling, telling him to look under the bed. Although his questioning look, he checks and takes the box you stored there. Placing it on the sheets, you lay down, hands grabbing the wooden staffs of your headboard. Watching Sams face change from curiosity, to confusion, to shock and up to a wide grin makes you chuckle. He takes out the ropes you bought, lets them slide through his hands while watching you.

“You look so beautiful, laying there, willing to let off all control…”

He crawls up to you, his crotch hovering above your belly.

“So, you want to -” He grabs your wrist, carefully shackling you. “Do this?” shackling the other wrist, making it impossible for you to get free, but enough space for moving. Biting your bottom lip, you nod. Leaning to you, his lips just an inch apart from yours, he whispers: “Will you be a good girl and do what I…” He leans further, biting your earlobe. “What I command you?”

A wave of pure anticipation rushes through you: your legs tremble, your wrist fight against the ropes, your spine arches. But all you do, is nod again.

“Good!” Sam claps his hands once, before standing up. Impatient as you are, you sit up a bit, just to see Sam undressing yourself. As soon as he´s fully naked, you lick your lips, seeing him in all his glorious beauty. But the mischievous smirk upon his face makes you anxious. And your suspicious feeling is being proved: his hand travels down his body, grabbing his arousal. The moan he releases makes you shift your legs. How he dares to...

Sam caresses himself while watching you – how you desperately move your hips, trying to bait him, seduce him. His grin widens as he sees your reaction, making him want to touch you, but resisting.

Another growl of his, Sam bites his bottom lip, finally slowly walking up to you.

“Do you know, how unbelievable hot you look in those.” On all his four, he softly runs a finger over your straps. All you can do, is spreading your legs a bit more, allowing Sam full access to you. Sams finger travels over your inner thigh, heading for your core. The touch of his fingertip caressing the crossing from your leg to your folds, makes you tremble again, craving for more. Impatiently rubbing your folds against his finger, you bite your bottom lip, trying to get more of him.

But instead of continuing, Sam stops, backing up, stroking himself again.

“Sam!…” Your voice is way too high, way too needy. But you don´t care: your whole body trembles, is pulsing of expectation, moving around eagerly, presenting yourself to Sam.

“Sam. I´m aching for you!” With your eyes closed, you arch your spine even further, longing for his touch. All of sudden, your folds are covered by hot, wet lips, making you gasp for air.

The fabric between your wetness and Sams mouth makes you even more hungry for him. Just the thin piece of thong keeps him away from penetrating you with his tongue…

The kisses and licks he places on your center, make you squirm under his touch. In addition, the knowledge that you can´t touch him whenever you want, cause another heatwave rush through you. Moaning his name, you feel your toes crinkle, legs flex, pushing your breasts out, hungry for more. Sams finger slides under the soaked fabric, barely touching you. But that all you needed to explode in pleasure: screaming out his name, you feel all your body tremble, the orgasm working out…

But all of sudden, Sams touches are gone. Flashing your eyes, mouth open to a silent scream of frustration and begging, you watch him smirking along, hovering over you, offering you a glorious view.

Feeling the promising orgasm fade, your frustration increases with each second.

“On your four, girl.” Sams lazy voice makes you furious. How he dares to make you this hot, this needy and then remain so calm himself.

But you do obey.

As fast as you can, you turn around, wrists still bond, kneeling and supporting your weight by leaning on your elbows, ass up high. Looking over your shoulder, you grin as you see Sams look: his eyes are filled with pure admiration, hunger and excitement. With a quiet giggle, you shake your hips a bit, making him growl, reaching for your body. With his one hand on your small back, he caresses your bottom cheek, biting his lips. You lower your eyes, looking at your sheets before a sharp pain rushes through your body, outgoing from your cheek. But the scream you release, is not a hurtful. It´s pleasure. Again, Sam spanks you, making you moan his name, begging for more.

Between two hits, your thong is being ripped off: literally. You watch how the shreds of one of your favorite thongs land in front of you.

The pain of the spanking and the fabric cutting into your flesh make your whole body shake.

You can just imagine what he´s gonna to do with you…

Slipping two fingers into you, Sam chuckles darkly. Desperate for his touch, you move your hips, fucking yourself, using his fingers while he kneads your ass. The rough fingers stroking you inside make you experience the wonderful promising feel of an uprising climax again. And like he would know, Sam commands you with a dangerous voice: “Hold still.”

Slamming one last time your hips against his hand, you stop moving, whimpering. Slowly leaving your center, Sam moves around you, running the wet fingers up to your spine. Looking up, you see Sam kneeling in front of you, his hand on his length. Getting the hint, you move forward, opening your mouth, embracing him with your lips.

All you hear, is Sams deep growl and the feel of his stiff cock twitching in your mouth. Your agility is surely restricted by your shackled wrists, but you do your best to satisfy your…

Master, is what comes to your mind.

Your head is being pulled back, leaving your mouth open, looking up to him. Still holding your hair, Sam touches himself again, stroking his length, teasing you. You have to remain there, not able to move, to touch him, to do anything. You have to watch how Sam is having fun, throwing back his head, moaning your name, leaving you there, suffering. Seeing his cock twitch in his hand, makes your walls pulse, craving for him.

“Saaaam!” The whine you release echos through your room, making Sam look down at you again, smirking. Letting off himself, his hand still in your hair, he grabs your chin, squeezing it, forcing you to open your mouth. As soon as his cock slips beyond your lips, you close your eyes, eagerly sucking on his wonderful arousal, relishing every inch. The touch of his fingers on your wetness let you freeze for a second, but you recover yourself, working on him as he starts working on you. Firstly, just caressing slightly your folds, he slips one finger into you, slowly circling inside you. But soon after, the second finger follows, changing the moves. Instead of the lazy circles, he pumps into you – with his fingers and with his cock. Feeling Sam half-bent over you, you savor the penetration from both sides, making you feel another climax arise.

As your moaning and grunting increases to a chanting of sheer sexual background sounds – overtaking the music playing along – afraid Sam could interrupt you again, you feel panic grow besides your orgasm.

And as you expected, Sam is pulling out of you, completely. You scream out, your voice a high screech of desperation. Deadly looking at him, your vision blurred by some tears, you watch him. He´s not smirking anymore. Not at all. All the mischievous friskiness is replaced by danger and concentrating strength, which is seen in each move of his.

The hot and trembling body of yours is screaming for him. Anything could happen right now, but it wouldn´t matter. You are ready to do anything! You would kill for, just to feel him. Hell, you would even sell your soul!

Your thoughts drifted away, so you focus again, only to see Sam standing in front of you, the condom already on his arousal, his eyes filled with concern. “Y/N, you alright? Should I stop?” His voice is soft again, ready to do anything to make you feel better.

“For fucks sake, Winchester! Fuck me or I´ll kill ya!” The growl escaping your throat, surprises even you. The mimic change on his face let you shift your weight. In one second the thoughtful, caring Sammy – in the other the hot beast you want to call ’Master’.

“What´s the magic word?” The deep voice makes you arch your spine, squirming around.

“Pleeeeaaase Sam!”

Placing himself behind you, kneading your ass, accidentally running is fingers over your folds, he kisses and bites your small back. Right in the moment, you think you won´t stand another second without him inside you, you feel his huge length burst into you.

But it´s not a scream which escapes your mouth. The sensation of him filling you, is definitely something you won´t ever want to miss again! You laugh as you almost instantly feel your nerves throwing a party: everything feels so intense, so right, so damn good!

Sam pumps into, smashing his hips against yours, stroking your inner walls, sending hot pulses into every corner of your body.

Never imagined this wreaking ecstasy could grow further, but as soon Sam starts grunting, followed by his twitching cock you scream out of pleasure, experiencing a never known feeling: on the one hand you are sensing a unbelievable wave of pleasure rushing through your body – but on the other hand numbing your head, making you forget where you are and about your whole environment.

Which leads Sam to cover your screaming with his hand, but also speeding up.

And again, the climax approaches you with long, hot strides. Like a trigger, your mind is floated with the feels when Sam let you wait for your high…

Again, you start to whine against Sams palm, want to beg for release, for the orgasm, begging him to fuck you. Begging your Master to fuck you as hard as he can.

Not able to make another move, you just let the cold shivers of fear run down your back, hoping he won´t stop this time…

“Come for me, baby.”

Those words.

Those sweet words.

They immediately let all the feeling inside your body explode!

The hot sensation of your high, combined with the cold fear of not getting what you need, what you deserve, make you scream against his hand. You feel like the orgasm will tear you up: no chance you will experience this orgasm to the end fully conscious.

And feeling like Sam twitches again, ejaculation, your feel yourself confirmed.

This wonderful lasting state of forgetting everything for a second, makes you tremble until you collapse, not able to keep yourself up by your own strength. Lazily still pumping into you, Sam catches you around your waist, supporting you. The last pumps come to an end, leaving you panting for air.

With Sams help, you lay down on your side, grinning like a child on Christmas. The revealing ease of having the wrists unbolt, you turn around to Sam, still grinning.

“Y/N… You alright?”

All you can do, is nodding, relishing the calm after this awesome storm.

Snuggling up to him, you kiss his chest, before mumbling against his skin: “Sooo, you liked what I bought?”

The heavy chest shaking against your cheek, Sam laughs, replying with a growling: “Oh hell, yes!

Another one-shot, HERE!

The Least of What She Is

She is bright-eyed and brilliant
She is a beacon
a landmine
a catch
She’s witty and interesting
and breath taking
and all she wants
is to be pretty

She is bright-eyed and beautiful
All her wispy ends are running wild
She is talented
and wholesome
and disciplined
and thorough
and she is so
so far away
from pretty

Her body is a battlefield
the kind of struggle you haven’t dreamed
and the mirror never paints the same
what she says
is not what she means
She is lightning
Ominous promises of rain
and when she looks at you
that way
she’s begging you
to think
to say
she’s pretty

She’s pretty
it’s the least of what she is but
she is pretty
but can’t you see how she doesn’t see it
how she longs for you to reassure
and the truth is you’re not the problem
but you encourage the problem in her
she’s so pretty
so far away
from pretty
but you don’t see
the way it’s only if you say it
that she can pretend to believe
she is pretty

April 9th, 2014
9/30 NaPoWriMo

2013 Frozen Fandom Recap
  • One piece of concept art
  • Nothing
  • Nothing
  • Leaked posters with unfinished character designs
  • nothing
  • nothing
  • nothing
  • Krumkake
  • We got a trailer that actually reveals to general audiences that it’s a princess musical, wait what?
  • The entire movie is shown to us via clips in trailers
  • The Frozenpocalypse
  • Olaf
  • Do we like Olaf?..
  • Late Night with Hans
  • Sideburns
  • Do You Want to Build a Snowman With My Frozen Tears
  • Kristoff’s Nose
  • Kristoff’s Hat
  • Kristoff
  • Hans’s Southern Isles
  • When Let it Go was fully released and we all listened to it 8,000 times
  • Where is the villain song
  • Adventures of Hans dolls
  • We all spend every cent we own on anything that says ‘Frozen’
  • Can I say something crazy?
  • Will you marry me?
  • Chocolate fondue
  • We are all gay for Elsa, regardless of gender or sexual orientation
  • Boogers
  • Hans Is Pretty
  • and Witty
  • and Bright
  • Kristanna everywhere
  • What do you mean six times is too many times to see a movie in theaters
  • When is the sequel

(feel free to add more)


“I feel pretty! Oh so Pretty!

I feel pretty, witty & bright!

And I pity any Girl who isn’t Me Tonight!” 

~ Julie Andrews version:))

Materials Used: Kishimoto’s sketches & Ghibli studio movies.

HAPPY B”DAY :) @utsukushiisan   Edits are hard work!! Kudos to you for always taking the time to do them and being super sweet & taking all my random requests while at it!! I’m sorry this isn’t all that and a couple of days late xd, I’ve never properly edited before but watching you and a few others, I kinda want to sometimes<3