you heard me. deal with it. ;)

anonymous asked:

Hi it's me the annoying anon Ahem "I mean, *he's* cute but..." added with the look at the camera.... joke or possible meaning behind the comment?????? Hmm suspitches

Hey, Anon, first off, you aren’t annoying. I look forward to these anons every day! (And please feel free to message me off anon – I’d love to chat with you!)

I don’t think it was a joke. Here’s the deal… sometimes when people come out, they don’t always just… go for it and say “hey, I’m (insert sexuality here).” Sometimes they’ll work it into conversation casually (like what Rhett did today, just a casual comment).

But here’s why I *don’t* think it was a joke. Rhett’s look like “yeah, you heard me,” and then his smirk and cheeks and eyebrow raise after. Link’s “you’re actually doing this on camera?” look.

And further… it was how quickly he said it, like there was no doubt or hesitation. There was no “let me scan my brain to come up with something so my wife won’t think I’m into Rachel McAdams.” He made no joke about crying or being sad. He went right to “hey, he’s cute but…”

It’s the fact that it’s SO casual that it doesn’t seem like a joke.

Hi guys. It’s been already 2 weeks since the last time you’ve all heard from me. I’m sorry for not posting earlier. I’m dealing with a chronic disease and during some periods in my life it’s getting worse. Sadly I have to deal with it at the moment. The doctor is trying to find the right medicine. But it’s been a struggle for years to find one that actually helps. This week they took new bloodtests and hopefully it will lead soon to a good medicine that can make my life much easier again. ‘Whatever you decide to do. Make sure it makes you happy.’ I’m appreciating the little things in life that I’ve been able to do like going on holiday last month, having dinner with friends. Things that are normally easy to do when you’re completely healthy. So every new activity in the future that I’ll be able to do again will definitely make me happy. Right now I need some more rest and taking care of myself. Just wanted to let you all know that I’m coming back here as soon as I can. Thank you for all the messages and love that I’ve received. You’re all so kind and supportive. Till soon sweet people.

This is for anyone who can’t really relate to Mother’s Day sentiments due to cutting themselves off from toxic parents. Eternal hugs to all of you. I personally haven’t spoken to my mom in over 4 years so it’s always kinda white noise for me when this time comes around. Always remember your feelings are VALID.

“But she’s your MOM.” has to be one of the most insensitive, ignorant, pious fucking statements I’ve ever heard too many times in my life. I can’t stand people who say that to me.

It’s really so generalizing and damaging when people say things like “But they’re you’re family…” as though that mandates that you to continue to enable someone to treat you horribly. IT’S NOT OK.

For those of you who are still dealing with toxic family members, even more hugs to you. It’s a difficult path and we all have our own journey. I wish you strength and peace. You’ll get there.

Much love.

You’re a Real Writer

I know you don’t think so. You see the “real writers” as the people who have multiple books published, who show up and speak at conferences, who announce this deal or that one, have reviews in professional journals, and who get paid actual money for their books. But the distinction isn’t in the way we put on our pants in the morning. The typing words into the computer thing is the same for all of us, trust me.

That writer you think is so far beyond you still has days she’s convinced nothing she’s writing works. That writer who made a big deal last week is chewing his fingernails off, convinced that this is the last book he’ll get paid for. The writer you heard speak at that conference last year is struggling for a new agent and a new contract for a book she got told wasn’t going to sell. And the writer who landed a new agent at that same conference is still struggling to make his first sale.

We all stare at the computer screen, not sure if what we’re doing make sense or is worth our time. We all have days that no words get written. We all have days where we have to prioritize family even when the words are streaming out of our minds. We all struggle to believe we’re good enough, that our ideas matter, that this work is still something worth getting up for in the mornings.

And we all do the same thing to fight against these fears. We keep writing.

That’s what makes a “real” writer. Do you write? Are you working on something? Are you scared of your own audacity in writing? Are you willing to admit your dreams? Do you keep at it even when it seems useless? Do you write because you like writing, not because you want to be published? Do you wish you were writing the way that other people wish they were at the beach? Do you write novels while you’re doing the dishes? Do you meet people and want to put them in your own books?

You’re a real writer.

ARMY 4TH ZIP: JIMIN & V

Q. Remember when Taehyung said he loves the Hwarang hyungs and Jimin was upset? Is there anything that changed after that incident?

Jimin: I said I was upset because I was really upset when he said that. I always tell him whenever he meets with other friends too. That I was really upset. 

Q. How about you Taehyung? Jimin said he was upset. 

Taehyung: The Hwarang hyungs really expresses their feelings well all the time. I hear things like “Taehyung-ah I really love you” really often so it became a habit of saying “I love you” to them also. 

Jimin: It’s not because he heard I love you often that he does that … It’s because Taehyung was very tired and struggled a lot while filming. So because of that we worried and cared for him a lot and it’s not that I support the members who are practically like family to me expecting anything in return, but because he only likes expressing his feelings to the Hwarang hyungs, that’s the reason why we were upset. You know when things that aren’t even a big deal affect you a lot?

Taehyung: When I try to tell my members that I love them, it becomes so awkward * laughs* Bangtan is my family … and you know how it’s hard to tell your family you love them. It’s that kind of feeling *laughs*.

Jimin: I understand what he is trying to say. I understand but I can’t help but feel upset. 

Taehyung: But you saying this is just adorable *laughs* 

jimin: It’s not cute! I ’m really upset! and I don’t like saying this kind of things in front of you so ask the next question, please *laughs* ah, but I’m not saying I don’t like you right now, I am just upset at what happened in the past. 

Q. What kind of friend are you to each other? 

Jimin: Taehyung now … is a friend that’s really like a friend? A long time ago it wasn’t this kind of feeling, to be honest. We never just laid everything down and comfortably talked to each other about our feelings before. I created a wall of some sort between Taehyung and I. But taehyung knocked that wall first. Ah~ The fact that I am saying this kind of stuff in front of him … *laughs*

Taehyung: just like how Jimin said. We weren’t close enough to share everything. At school other than Jimin I had a lot of friends my age, and a lot of friends who fit well with me. jimin and my personality were very different too … that’s all old news, now if I would need to talk about deep feelings/topics it’s Jimin. Things I can’t talk to with the hyungs. I can talk to Jimin about them. 

Jimin: We will fight a lot in the future, but we will also become a lot closer. 

Cr: Rosoidae

I couldnt sleep last night so I thought up lance coming out to shiro (since that picture where they are together holding the lgbt sign) and it went something like this:

Lance took a deep breath and knocked on Shiro’s door before he had the time to realize how bad of an idea that was and walk away. Shiro opened up and a puzzled expression appeared on his face when he saw who was knocking.

“Lance?”

“Hi, uhm, can i talk to you?”

“Sure,” said Shiro stepping aside to let the boy enter. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just… need to say something? I think… I need… advice?”

“Oh, uh, sure, you can tell me anything.”

“Yeah… hmmmm…. I… you know I like girls, right? Like, I reeeaally like girls.”

“Yees…? You kinda remind everyone every single day…”

“Yeah.” Lance laughed nervously, crossing his arms. “I really like girls. I like them so much. I like flirting with them and–”

“Lance”

Lance stopped and stared at his own feet, unable to make himself look at Shiro in the eyes.

“I think I know where you are going with this speech,” said Shiro, putting a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “But I won’t say it for you, so just go ahead and say it, it’s okay.”

“You know?”

“Yeah…? I mean, I get how you must be feeling…”

“Ho… you get it?” Repeated Lance, a confused line between his eyebrows. “You like boys too?”

“What?” Blurted Shiro, eyes widening, “I thought we were talking about Allura!”

“What!” Shrieked Lance, taking a step back, “You like Allura??”

“You like boys??”

Lance laughed nervously, “no way, ha ha, I was joking… jeez, you believed that…” he turned towards the door, wanting nothing more than to lock himself in his room and call himself a dumbass for the rest of the night. This had been a mistake. A huge, nefarious mistake.

“No, Lance, wait!” Shiro called after him, “that came out wrong, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Like what?” Said Lance stopping.

“Like it’s a big deal. It’s… okay. If you like boys.”

“Is it?”

“Why shouldn’t it be?”

“Because… I like girls.”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive. It’s just called being bisexual.”

Lance gasped softly. “That’s the word, quiznack,” he whispered, “I knew I heard something like that…”

Shiro smiled. “Lance, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, okay? If you ever feel like telling the rest of the team, know that I’ll be there to help you out and support you. And thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

“Uhm, sure, whatever. Thanks? I guess.”

Shiro covered the few feet that divided them and hugged Lance tightly.

Lance let Shiro squeeze him like an empty toothpaste tube.

“Don’t tell Allura about… you know.” Shiro whispered, without letting him go.

“Sure,” said Lance, fighting for breath, until Shiro loosened his grip, “You don’t tell Keith.”

“What?”

“Omygod.” Lance pulled away, pretending to look at the nonexistent watch on his wrist, “look at time!! I gotta go! Bye Shiro, t'was nice talking to you!” He cried darting out of the door, leaving Shiro with his arms raised and his mouth open.

“Keith?? !”

8

get to know me: [04/??] favorite animations: mulan. 

I’ve heard a great deal about you, Fa Mulan. You stole your father’s armor, ran away from home, impersonated a soldier, deceived your commanding officer, dishonored the Chinese Army, destroyed my palace, and… you have saved us all.

deal | pt 1 (m)

Originally posted by sugamysavagebaby

summary: the years spent working hard had really paid off and was it so wrong to want to rub that in a few faces? The cliché mean girls that often teased you for not doing anything with your hair or clothing, wouldn’t it be great to show off someone like Jungkook? High school reunion au + ceo!jeon

word count: 6,366 

part two | part three 


Eyes like ice, cold and calculating narrow over the rim of a wine glass. Soft lips press to the polished glass, the crimson complimenting tan skin. If it weren’t for the soft dent between his brows you would have assumed he had not heard you. He takes his time allowing the wine to caress his palate, eyes closed as he savors the taste.  As always, he makes you wait until the wine glass is drained of it’s dark contents. You ponder on the taste, if it is bitter upon his tongue much like his words.

Keep reading

Young Volcanoes

Under normal circumstances, the Potter-Weasley-Malfoy family would avoid the Press like the plague, but with a family that big, it’s simply not possible.

Each of the children has mastered their own- unique- method of dealing with the attention…

Harry: Alright, it’s an 18 yard dash to the front door, it’s packed out there, 

Harry: if someone gets separated YOU CIRCLE BACK. No one gets left behind!

Ginny: Remember, don’t tuck your thumbs. It’s all in the elbows, no punches- 

Ginny: I’m looking at you James and Lily.

Harry: Don’t make eye contact, they sense weakness. Understand everyone?

Everyone: *nods*

Harry: Send us off Teddy, Victoire. Battle stations everyone!

Ginny: *whistles* Go go go!

~~~~

Keep reading

"The Types Based on my Experience" - an ENFP

INTJ
- Has too many extra curricular
- Low- key brags about achievements
- Will and won’t hesitate to roast someone.
- They type of person to read during lunch
- Books.
- Just a little bit clingy, but in the best way
- “Let me sleep— I only slept an hour last night.”


INTP
- Talks to them-self sometimes
- Likes to make random google searchers
- Master at BSing
- Why do they know so much about obscure concepts and theories?
- My random facts buddy
- “Have you heard of cerebropathy?”

ENTJ
- Tries to control me (for the greater good I guess)
- Great at logic puzzles
- If there was an apocalypse— I would want to paired with them.
- Seems like they got their life together
- A bit of a neat freak
- Will not deal with your shit, but will still help you?
- “I need more coffee to deal with all of you people.”

ENTP
-FITE ME
- Is super intimidating at first glance
- Secretly a softy
- will not hesitate to start a debate
- loves politics
- If you tell them a fact they ask where you got it
- Likes to read Edgar Allen Poe and romance novels
- “ Are you sure? Where did you read that?”

INFJ
- Nice friend
- Poker face
- Everyone thinks that they have chill
- has no chill
- Loves cats and babies
- Great listener
- Has too many feelings and bottles them up
- “OMG!!! I LOVE MUGS!!! I LOVE PURPLE!!!! LOOK AT THIS ITS A PURPLE MUG!!!!”

INFP
- Easily flustered
- Will hate you and you will never know
- Once you know them— they’ll argue with you about their opinions.
- Anime nerd
- Wears over-sized glasses
- Gestures a lot when talking
- Roasts me about everything
- Has an unhealthy obsession for cats
- Self deprecation 101
- “ I don’t know what your tal- *gestures and hits someone with arm*- OMG!!! I am so sorry.”

ENFJ
- Identity crisis all day everyday
- Likes to do power poses
- Will do random acts of kindness
- Knits
- Soft
- Really imaginative
- Will do stupid stuff to make a sad friend happy again
- You can’t not like them
- “A toast to spongebob and Bob Marley.”

ENFP (not me— another ENFP)
- Loves to art
- Procrastinates kinda(?). It just takes them a long time to do their work
- Is very smol
- Low-key manipulative
- Great at fake accents
- Has the voice of an angel
- Awesome dancer
- “ Oh look, it’s a birb. *makes chicken noises*”

ISTJ
- Is in all my advanced classes
- Gets annoyed with me really easily
- Likes to bake
- Has ten sources to back up one fact
- Will binge watch Crash Course
- Secretly loves bird memes
- Determined
- “Baking is a science. It isn’t just measuring and mixing— it’s watching the chemical re- *rants about for ten minutes*”

ISFJ
- Literally a cinnamon roll
- Are too caring
- Seriously they are going to get hurt one day
- Mom friend
- When they get mad everyone freaks out
- Will fight you if you hurt their loved one
- “Are you okay? Do you need a band- aid? I have a first aid kit in my backpack.”


ESTJ
- Law and order
- Is practically the teacher
- Strong moral base
- Does not tolerate lying
- Can see your soul
- Loves dark chocolate and hot chocolate
- Eats the same thing for lunch everyday
- Will lay down the law
- “I just told them to kindly leave me alone because their fake personalities were annoying me.”

ESFJ
- Will appear out of no-where
- Social Butterfly
- EVERYONE knows them
- Loves to sing, but is sadly tone deaf
- Can do really intricate pranks and succeed
- Teachers pet, but not nerdy in any way
- “Hi! My name’s ESTJ. What’s your weight— I mean, name?”

ISTP
- Loves workshop
- Is great at video games
- Everyone thinks they listen to punk rock, but they actually listen to Country music
- Can be bossy
- Likes to wear flannel
- Is really chill
- “I had one job, to finish my homework. Did I do it? Nope.”

ISFP
- Can’t art
- Can write like there is not tomorrow
- Can also play piano really well, but they never took lessons
- Have eyes filled with wonder
- Great at makeup
- Has good fashion sense
- Thinks shoes are a social construct.
- They have a bucket list written
- Has great stories
- “I once went to an upscale hotel and hijacked the penthouse level with my friends.”

ESTP
- Loves to play pranks and do stupid stuff
- Is flexible af
- Laughs weirdly
- Has the best ideas
- Smart, but really lazy
- p r o c r a s t i n a t i o n
- “Move I’m gay.”

ESFP
- Acts like they had five cups of coffee
- Really likes unicorns
- Is a theatre kid
- Wait for it…. they never stop quoting Hamilton
- Great at lying
- Really, really funny
- Loves everything smol
- Everyone loves them
- “Bill Nye the science guy– history has its eyeesss ON YOOOOUUUUUU.”

anonymous asked:

I don't know if this is something i should ask on this blog (feel free to delete if its not) but i heard the chainsmokers said something racist, do you know what it was?

This is definitely something I am willing to answer. The video has been taken down. But yesterday at about 10AM KST, the Clamslappers posted a video of an interview in China for Ultra Festival on Twitter. And the host asked whether or not one of the guys (idk their names and I don’t want to know their names) whether he brought his dog. And he made a “joke” implying that dogs aren’t safe in China because of the typical Asian stereotype that all Asians eat/slaughter dogs. The guy didn’t say this specifically, but it was implied through his silence when asked why he didn’t bring his dog and after the host realized what he was implying the Clamslappers and the host laughed together. The caption was also the laughing (with tears) emoji. Later, (I just checked now because I have them blocked), the member (again idk their names) posted an apology saying that it was because he heard dogs get slaughtered in China (you can find it here: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DJdyhAcUMAAr8Fk.jpg:orig), but it was still a racist comment based off of old stereotypes and it frustrates me to an incredible extent. The fact that they make these remarks and laugh about it makes me mad. While he said this is why he didn’t bring his dog, I’m sure he was making a joke about Chinese and Asians in general. If he was truly worried about his dog, he would have looked concerned or sad or made a comment about saving dogs in the interview. Instead he made a cheap “joke” and attempted to cover it up with a campaign to fight against dog slaughter. What makes it even more upsetting is that they are collaborating with BTS, a South Korean boy group. I know a lot of you guys won’t agree with me, but yeah. Also for those fans that are worried about whether or not dislking or not supporting the Clamslappers makes you a bad ARMY, it really doesn’t. Fact of the matter is we love BTS not them. Just because we love BTS doesn’t mean that we have to be fans of those people. I’m going to add this because I don’t think some of you get it. I am Asian, I have lived through ugly Asian stereotypes, remarks, “jokes.” Don’t make comments about the Asian experience and say “well this sterotype applies sometimes.” It doesn’t matter. It was a cheap ugly “joke” and should not be tolerated.
- Kylie

SKAMS04E08 Clip 1 - Miss you

[SANA: Hi. There’s something I have to tell you.

Hi. What are you doing today? Can we meet up?

CHRIS: I’m hungover af

VILDE: Magnus and I are talking.

NOORA: How are you doing Vilde?

VILDE: He thinks I’ve cheated on him with Elias.

EVA: We’re gonna kill those who made the hate account. Sana: I’m also hungover af and dad is visiting from Bergen to celebrate my 18th birthday. Yippee!

No Yippee.

Plus fml.

CHRIS: Eva!! Mom said it’s okay for us to celebrate your 18th birthday at my place on Friday!!

EVA: SHE DID?? Fucking hell!!

CHRIS: She asked why you couldn’t have it at your place, and I was like… ehhh.. they’re renovating. After the last party.

EVA: Hahahaha!! Awesome!! Who are we going to invite??

[Elias watching Youtube video of the boys]

SANA: Hi.

ELIAS: Talking to me?

SANA: Sorry for being mad.

ELIAS: So you’re not mad anymore? That’s good. I thought you were going to be mad for the rest of your life.

[YOUSEF: Okay, are you ready?]

SANA: Why aren’t you friends with Even anymore?

ELIAS: No, the guy doesn’t want to be with us anymore, so we can’t make him.

SANA: So it’s not because he.. tried to kiss Mikael? Because I heard Mikael freaked out.

ELIAS: That’s not why. It’s.. A lot happened. The guy just started doing a lot of random stuff. Then he tried kissing Mikael, among other things. And we tried to get him to chill, but it didn’t work. Then he dropped out of school and I talked to Sonja and she told me he was depressed. And when she told us we tried to call him and text him a lot, but.. So it’s his deal if he doesn’t wanna hang out with us.

SANA: You know he’s dating Isak? I think he misses you.. Because he asked about you the other day.

ELIAS: He did? Tell him hi, then. Hey. You know Yousef?

SANA: Just forget about it. I’m over him.

my favourite headcanon is pureblood wizarding society being 110% okay with queerness. like, nobody talks about it or bothers to come out, because it’s just assumed you’re probably some shade of bisexual. the slytherin dorms don’t stop boys going into the girl’s rooms like in gryffindor because bruh, as if that’s going to do anything about the amount of sex anybody’s having. homophobia is just another reason why muggles suck.

my other favourite headcanon is draco’s giant ass crush on harry potter being the the longest-standing form of entertainment in the slytherin common room. drinking games (”take a shot every time malfoy mentions potter” “do I look like I want alcohol poisoning”). bets (“a galleon says malfoy’s up that tree so he can jump down dramatically when potter walks past” “no way, but I’ll bet the same he’ll mention his father while trying to flirt” “deal”). continued exasperation (“potter’s ass on that broom is going to cost us the quidditch cup. I don’t think malfoy’s even tried looking for the snitch yet.” “every fucking year this shit”).

my third favourite headcanon is a gay muggleborn from a loving-but-homophobic family walking in on this giant gay-loving mess. maybe they’re sorted into slytherin, maybe they just befriend the one slytherin who’s not a douchebag to muggleborns, but either way they end up spending time around them and their total lack of heterosexuality. girls publicly making out on the first day back after hols and everyone telling them they’re gross because merlin, we all know you saw her like two days ago, daphne. neverending ending jokes about potter’s dick and draco malfoy’s desire to sit on it. slytherins who don’t even like each other holding hands in the corridor when they go past homophobic muggleborns.

one day this poor muggleborn is hanging out with the slytherins and finally realises their sexuality is totally a-ok here, and they’re thrilled to the point where they interrupt the elaborate planning of a snape-centric shampoo intervention to blurt, I’M GAY. and the slytherins just look at them, totally unimpressed and kinda confused. one says, “yeah, and do you want a medal or something?” because they really don’t get how big a deal this is. another yells, “that reminds me! I heard parkinson fucked malfoy and guess whose name he moaned as he came” and everyone just simultaneously groans cos their quidditch chances against gryffindor are so fucked this year

BBS As Things I've Heard At School
  • Vanoss : I may be very popular but honestly I am so socially scared of people the only reason they like me os cause I smile and nod quietly while inwardly screaming in fear.
  • Delirious : Honestly if I'm voted most likely to be a killer I wouldn't evn be surprised. I think they even said that about me in pre-school.
  • Moo : I have unfortunately become the mom friend and it has made me afraid of ever becoming a mother.
  • " You're a guy. "
  • And? Women are strong to deal with this bullshit! I can't handle you all I would clearly never be a good mother.
  • Terroriser : You know how most people want all eyes on them when walking into a room? I figured it out. Walk in and start doing really loud impressions!
  • Ohm : I feel I'm the friend who you have around so at least someone is semi-innocent in this massive pile of devil spawns.
  • Wildcat : I have no choice but to hang out with you all - I don't know how to make friends anymore!
  • Mini : You want to know what sucks?! Emily got nominated for Prom King over me. One, she's a girl! Not that there's a problem with the fact she's female but in this case there are two seperate places! And a third if anyone were agender. AND TWO! SHE DOESN'T EVEN ATTEND THIS SCHOOL!
  • Nogla : I'm not actually as dumb as I come off as. *misspells their name on a test* O-Okay well you see...I have...no...okay.
  • Lui : Take me back to kindergarden. Snacks, recess and snacks. Away from bullshit and lies.
  • Basically : I had this group of friends before. They only hung out with me to show "diversity" so they didn't come off as racist. That comment madee realize they were. Ditched their asses.
  • Scotty : Only once in my life have I ever...I mean ever! Won at a game! Monopoly, Life, Mario Kart...life in general...
  • Smiity : *after someone accidently steps on the back of their shoe* Yeah okay bitch. Get ready for that fucking restraining order on your ass!
  • Cartoonz : I have been compared to a southern satan before. I'm not sure which was more true. The fact that I'm very Southern. Or that I'm satan. *hisses and chokes on spit*
The Proposal

“Oh, look, Draco. It’s Mr. O’Sullivan, the Arithmancer. We should introduce ourselves,” Harry said in an overly-chipper tone.

Draco eyed his boyfriend speculatively over his glass of champagne. Harry usually hated Ministry events such as this, and he hated meeting the people there even more. Draco did not for one second believe that Harry wanted to meet Mr. O’Sullivan, especially considering that the man’s job was one of the most boring in the Wizarding World.

“Should we now?” Draco asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

“I just said we should, didn’t I?” Harry kept talking in that annoyingly buoyant way and Draco rolled his eyes.

“If you insist, love.”

Harry and Draco crossed the crowded room, Harry’s hand placed possessively on Draco’s lower back. The smile on Harry’s face was about a mile wide when they reached Mr. O’Sullivan. Draco was smiling too, but not in the manic way that Harry was, his was simply a polite nice-to-meet-you smile.

“Mr. O’Sullivan?” Harry said and the middle-aged man who had been gazing out the window turned to face the two gentlemen.

“Yes? Oh, my. It’s you.” O’Sullivan’s eyebrows lept up to where his hairline should’ve been, had he not been bald. Draco’s smile widened almost imperceptibly, as he found it quite amusing when people twice his age were awed to be in the presence of his boyfriend.

“Yes, it’s me,” Harry responded. “I’ve heard that you’re a very talented Arithmancer and I wanted to introduce myself.”

O’Sullivan turned a horrid shade of scarlet as he said, “Oh, my. Oh, my. That’s very kind of you, Mr. Potter, but I’m just one of many Arithmancers in the world. But you, Mr. Potter, there’s only one of you. It’s such an honor to meet you.” O’Sullivan gazed admirably at Harry and only when Draco cleared his throat did he seem to realize that Harry was not alone. “Oh dear. I’m sorry. It’s an honor to meet you as well, Mr. …”

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy,” Draco said, forcing himself to ignore the way O’Sullivan’s eyes widened as he realized that Harry Potter was accompanying an ex-Death Eater.

When O’Sullivan failed to reply, Harry spoke up, “He’s my fiancé.”

It was now Draco’s turn for his eyebrows to rise to his hairline and his eyes to widen. He and Harry weren’t engaged. If they were, Draco was fairly certain he would know about it.

Keep reading

do you ever think about the casting process for the extras on horrible histories “we want you to wear a toga and learn this dance to a song to a parody of high school musical" “paint your face like a celt and back up martha howe douglas while she raps in a field, look fierce” “you’re a breakdancing saxon peasant, deal with it” “you heard me, i want you to put on this restoration-period curly wig and outfit and hurl britain’s sweetheart, mathew baynton, into the air”

When Duty and Desire Meet Chapter 4

Art by @edendaphne , words by moi!

Summary: After their accidental kiss on Valentine’s day, both Marinette and Chat Noir have to deal with the emotional fallout of their actions.

Read on AO3
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Valentine’s Day Part 2

“So, let me get this straight,” Alya said, leaning back against Marinette’s desk chair and steepling her fingers. Beside her, on a little table-cushion Marinette had made, Tikki slept soundly, having already heard the story a thousand times over. “You’re in love with Chat Noir.”

“You already knew that,” Marinette groaned from her chaise, hugging a cushion to her chest and leaning back like a Freudian patient. Lord knows she was about three sentences away from a therapy-inducing hissy fit regardless, so it was probably prudent of her to be lying down in such a way. She was preparing for her inevitable breakdown that’s all. It was the smart thing to do.

And she rarely did the smart thing nowadays it seemed, so she really needed this.

“You’ve been in love with Chat as Ladybug for like a bajillion years,” Alya continued, ignoring Marinette as she continued to rehash pointless details. Details which made Marinette want to bludgeon herself to death with her cushion.

It was most likely impossible to do such a thing but she was never one to back down from a challenge. Death by cushion- she’d find a way.

“Yes. We’ve already established that,” she replied through gritted teeth, said cushion slowly creeping up to cover her face.

“But last night you kissed him by accident,” Alya said.

“Uh-huh.”

“As Marinette.”

“That is correct sir,” Marinette wiggled a finger.

“And he gave you a rose and kissed you back.”

“Tru’ dat.”

It was indicative of Marinette’s deteriorating mental state that she’d said “Tru’ dat”. She’d never said “Tru’ dat” in her whole life.

“I see,” Alya nodded a few times. The fact her tone had remained neutral the whole time was doing nothing to help Marinette’s poor nerves, and so she swung her legs over the side of her chaise, sitting up to get a better view of Alya’s twinkling eyes. A sense of dread settled in Marinette’s stomach. Alya’s eye-twinkles were never a good thing, at least when they were directed towards her.

I see?! Is that all you have to say? Seriously?! I thought you’d be freaking out right now, I mean I’m freaking out but then I ALWAYS freak out. You not freaking out is making me freak out harder! Can you please freak out with me? Join me in the freak out zone already!” Marinette blabbed, waving her arms and promptly dropping the cushion to the ground.

Alya said nothing, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at her and cross her legs. At least she’d stopped steepling her fingers, Marinette thought gruffly.

After a short pause, Alya finally spoke, but her voice wobbled and strained unnaturally, her lips thinned in a way that was entirely too suspicious. “Firstly, stop saying freak out, secondly I’m not freaking out because this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She barely made it to the end of her sentence before she doubled over and descended into giggles.

It was in that moment that Marinette realised Alya’s peculiar behaviour had been due to her hiding her amusement, and she felt fully justified in yanking the cushion from its position on the floor and hurling it towards her supposed ‘best friend forever.’

Unfortunately, Alya dodged the fluffy projectile with ease.

“Come on, this is serious! I’m in hot water here!” Marinette cried, crossing her arms across her chest.

“When are you not though? Let’s be real,” the redhead shot back with a wry grin, twirling in the chair and kicking backwards to check her hair in the small vanity mirror on Marinette’s desk. The sight made Marinette relax a little. Alya only checked her hair with such scrutiny when she was seriously contemplating something.

Suddenly missing the comforting embrace of the cushion, Marinette flopped down once more. As her back hit the large pillows adorning her chaise, she let out a long sigh and all the fear, the panic, the fight, left her in one fell swoop. Only tiredness and uncertainty remained.

“How am I going to face him?” she whispered. Her head tilted towards her small, round window, to the afternoon sun beaming down in a total antithesis to her feelings. She wondered where Chat Noir was at that moment.

Did she cross his mind?

Over the years Marinette had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But it was different now. Now she wondered if Chat thought of her, of Marinette, not of Ladybug. Did he dwell on it- how they’d kissed? She had. She’d thought about it all night, until exhaustion had finally overcome her and she’d woken up late, cold, wanting something she could barely comprehend.

For years, she’d thought about what it would mean to kiss Chat Noir, Dark Cupid incident aside considering she couldn’t even remember it.

A small, involuntary whimper left her when she recalled the night before. The kiss had been an accident… at first. But the second she felt Chat’s lips press into hers was burned into her memory, playing over and over again. The moment he returned her kiss had ignited something dormant inside her and she felt raw, emotions exposed and unlocked, with nowhere to hide.

She considered her question again. How on earth could she face him as Ladybug, knowing what she did, knowing him the way he didn’t know he knew her (and god wasn’t that sentence confusing in and of itself)?

For God’s sake Marinette, it was a peck of a kiss at the most, pull yourself together!

“You’ll figure it out.”

Alya’s voice sounded lightyears away, so stuck was Marinette in her own musings. She jumped, a little sheepishly, and realised she hadn’t noticed Alya coming over to her until the spinning desk chair was pressed right by the chaise. The next moment, Alya’s hands were in her hair. Having thoroughly fixed her own short curls, she now concentrated on the silky strands of Marinette’s loose locks, braiding little plaits as if they were children at a sleepover.

Marinette let her. Two perfectly groomed heads were better than one.

“You think you can talk to him about it? As you I mean, not Ladybug,” Alya suggested, quickly clarifying her meaning whilst tugging the red ribbons loose from Marinette’s dark hair.

Snorting in response, Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Talk? To Chat? The very idea…

“Yeah sure, let me just tweet at him Ayla. Hashtag balcony make-outs,” she giggled, feeling a little better as her hair fell around her shoulders.

Foregoing the braids, Alya reached up and began tying something new into Marinette’s hair, tutting in disapproval. “Slide into the DM’s at least girl, I raised you better than that.”

They shared a laugh, settling into a comfortable silence as Alya worked on both sides of her hair. Marinette sat back and mulled over her options. Truth be told she didn’t have many. She couldn’t talk to Chat, after all it wasn’t likely he’d be back and she had no idea who he was in real life. The notion that she could talk to him as Ladybug, thus revealing herself, made her rapidly descend into a panic so sharp that she quickly pushed that thought to the side.

Really there was nothing else to do but call it what it was. A blip. A crazy alignment of stars which had given her a taste of everything she’d wanted for the past four years, a reminder that it was probably all she was going to get.

She tried not to let the disappointment settle in her bones, yet it was fruitless. Her chest ached as though a hole had been carved there.

Suffice to say it was a familiar ache where Chat was concerned, but it was bigger now.

“There. Done,” Alya pulled back, pleased with her work, and Marinette stood. Stepping over to the vanity mirror, she leaned down to check her reflection. “Matching colours for you and the bae,” she teased, eyebrows wiggling from underneath her rounded glasses.

Marinette threw the cushion at her again, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it smacked her right in the face.

At the very least, she had the Gaming Club that night, that would provide a very welcome distraction.

***

Adrien was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Which was ironic, considering he’d joined the Gaming Club to avoid that exact thing from happening.

“I can’t do this, I’m going to cancel,” he whimpered, hiding out in the bathroom a floor above their usual meeting place like the coward he was.

“So cancel,” Plagg shrugged, busy amusing himself with unfurling a roll of toilet paper- as per his usual hobby.

“I can’t cancel!” Adrien replied, horror struck as he gazed at himself in the mirror. His fingers gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Are you insane?!”

“So don’t cancel,” Plagg’s disinterested monotone was really starting to grate on him. “Honestly kiddo what do you want me to say and will it get me food faster?”

The resounding groan from Adrien’s throat was so despairing in nature that he was afraid he’s start rumours of a ghost haunting the building. He leaned on his elbows, burying his face into his hands.

Stupid. He’d been so, so, stupid. And reckless! Totally reckless. What had he been thinking?!

It was worth it though, a small, unchecked part of him thought. Adrien squashed it flat in an instant. After all there was no time to consider the fluttering in his chest, the pleasant swoop of his stomach. Now was the time to face the consequences of his actions. His incredibly foolish, totally moronic actions.

Because, although a part of him ignited, burned in the best possible way, at the memory of Marinette’s lips against his own, another part felt thoroughly ashamed. It felt like he was tricking her in some way. Granted that had never been his intention. His plan had been simple. Leave the rose on her balcony for her to discover. She’d never know it was him and be happy at the gift from a secret admirer. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out the way he planned, though he should have anticipated that.

When had things ever gone the way he planned?

He needed to apologise to her, as Chat, and he was going to do so that night in fact. But before that Adrien needed to pretend, he needed to lie, to Marinette. To the girl he loved. He needed to act like he hadn’t heard her soft sigh, felt the warmth of her skin and the taste of her cherry-blossom lips. He had to fake it, act like it had never happened.

He had to pretend he didn’t desperately want it to happen again.

The idea of being so fake made him ill, and so he placed his hands under the cold water tap to splash his face, allowing the iciness of the water to penetrate his senses and offer him some much-needed clarity.

It didn’t really work but it was the best he could do.

When he entered the Gaming Club, Plagg tucked securely inside his jacket pocket, he was relieved to see Marinette talking to other people. He could barely look at her, the meagre glimpse he’d gotten from across the room had sent his heart cartwheeling down the corridor and somewhere into the next arrondissement.

Not wanting to look suspicious, and fully admitting that he was stalling for time, Adrien wandered over to the desk where Nino was hooking up an old Nintendo console for one of their signature Mario Kart nights.

Mario Kart…Marinette…partners… sitting close together… oh no.

“Hey bro!” Nino chirped, offering Adrien a fist to bump, clearly not noticing how the blood had completely drained from his friend’s face. “Everything ok?”

“H-hey! Everything’s good!” The first lie of the evening. How could Adrien have forgotten it was a Mario Kart night? More importantly, how was he going to survive the evening now? Sitting next to Marinette, shoulders pressed together, watching her tongue poke out in concentration like it normally did? How could he concentrate on anything knowing how close he’d been to said tongue the night before?

Grow up Adrien! You aren’t some horny teenager and Marinette isn’t a prize to be objectified. Show her some respect already!

If Nino had thought Adrien’s reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. Together they settled into an easy conversation, Adrien helping his friend set up the old console. Focusing on such a menial task did wonders for his nerves. He was almost starting to feel normal. Almost.

Of course, just as he was beginning to relax, Marinette had to tap him lightly on the shoulder.

She might as well have given him a 1.21 gigawatt electric shock, given his reaction to both was about the same. If he’d been Chat Noir at the time, his superpowers might have actually propelled him through the ceiling.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head, taken aback by his startled shriek. “Are you ok?”

Subconsciously, Adrien’s hand reached up and he clutched his chest, fingers burying into his jumper as if it would cure the frantic beating of his wild heart.

Because she was there, right in front of him. Marinette. The girl he’d kissed last night.

His eyes flicked down to her lips before he could help himself.

“Adrien?”

The second time her voice permeated through his cloudy mind, something snapped inside of him. It was as if he were a character in a film, once played in slow motion, now fast-forwarding.

“Hey!” he cried, louder than he intended, and the people around him turned to stare. He looked at her eyes instead, with far more intensity than normal, mainly because he was so intent on not looking at her lips any more. “Marinette! It’s my friend- Marinette! My good friend, I’m good! How are you? You good- good? Yeah, I’m good, friend. How are you? Did you have a good Valentine’s day?”

WHAT?! Adrien’s brain-filter kicked in far too late, but began screaming at him nonetheless. Why would you ask her that? WHY?! You know how it went! YOU WERE THERE!

Marinette blinked, and it proved just how far gone he was that he found her blinking adorable.

Her blinking.

“Umm,” she blushed, unsure of what to say and, honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. He sounded insane even to his own ears, and he’d just asked her something quite private. Actually, he was surprised she wasn’t berating him for it. Then again, she thought he didn’t know about her encounter with Chat Noir.  His words may have seemed innocent to her ears.

What a mess Adrien had gotten himself into, and it only seemed to grow worse with every bit of word-vomit he expelled.

(Was it bad that he felt a tiny bit of pride at her blushing? Probably. But he was going to hell anyway so he might as well enjoy the slow descent at least a little bit.)

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Marinette glanced baffled at Nino, whom Adrien could see shrugging from his peripheral vision.

But he couldn’t care less.

Because he’d just noticed her hair. Or, more specifically, how she was wearing it.

In place of the red ribbons usually tied into her loose black locks, were two green ones instead. Vivid green. Chat Noir green.

His brain collapsed in on itself.

“I’m good-good too.”

Marinette was teasing him. She was grinning and she had green ribbons in her hair and Adrien was going to DIE.

“Good! That’s good!”

Great. He’d always wanted to die sounding like a partially strangled mongoose.

Marinette, mercifully, took pity on him and waved a controller in his face, offering him a place in the first race of the evening. He sighed, relaxing a little, but only a little. Gaming was fine. It was a welcome distraction, as long as he didn’t sit too close to her he’d be fine (who was he kidding? Of course he was going to sit close to her). At least, when he was focused on blue shells and Bullet Bills his brain couldn’t fixate on the meaning behind Marinette’s ribbons, if there was any hidden symbolism he was missing.

Suddenly the thought of seeing her that night, of apologising, seemed that much more dangerous- forbidden almost. But he had to do it. He owed it to her as her friend. Even if that’s all he could ever hope to be.

Nino still hadn’t finished setting up, and a few other members began helping him in their eagerness to get started. As a result, Adrien found himself more alone with Marinette than ever.

They sat down on the floor, controllers in hands, side by side. Their shoulders brushed, like they always did.

Adrien swallowed, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead of the woollen monstrosity currently overheating him.

He was fairly sure he was going to lose the game spectacularly.

His fears were proved right when, later that evening, Marinette’s knee brushed against his own and he ended up sending Donkey Kong careening off the end of Rainbow Road.

It was going to be a long night.

***

For the fifteenth time that evening, Marinette called herself an idiot.

Because she was an idiot. An idiot for standing on her balcony, an idiot for hoping lightning would strike twice in the same spot, an idiot for following her heart…

Tightly wrapping her cardigan around her, she gazed out into the mocking skyline. The bitterness of the cold February air was nothing compared to the bitterness she felt building up like sludge in her chest. Bitterness in her fortunes, bitterness in her decisions, bitterness in her own feelings.

Distantly, Marinette thanked the stars that at least it wasn’t as cold as it usually was. She was thankful she had a tiny shred of dignity left at least- that she wasn’t freezing to death in the vain hope that Chat Noir would show up again.

She reached up, fingers brushing against her lips, and remembered.

Furious with herself, Marinette shook her head, as if the rough gesture would expel all the unwanted memories from her mind. Honestly what was she doing acting like a silly sixteen-year-old with a crush? Again?! It was desperate, obsessive, ridiculous-

And totally in character if she was being honest with herself.

She needed a break. A breather. A respite from her own whirlwind emotions regarding the man in the black mask, the man who’d held her heart for longer than she cared to admit to anyone- not even Alya.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Marinette let out one last frustrated sigh before turning on her heels and making her way back to her room. Maybe her room would be less of a reminder, would save her from her torment.

But, as usual, fate had other plans for her.

Because, of course, Chat Noir happened to be standing there as if he’d suddenly popped into existence.

The shock of seeing him sent Marinette stumbling backwards with a cry, tripping over a flowerpot and tumbling to the ground.

“Whoa!” Chat called, rushing forward to catch her just in time. One hand gripped her flailing wrist, the other pressed against the small of her back as he pulled her towards him.

For a moment, both of them froze in place. Chat’s fingers splayed across her back, and she briefly felt the edges of his clawed-gloves scratching gently against the fabric of her cardigan. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine before she could control it.

Chat’s eyes widened and he stepped out of their half-embrace with awkward, jittery movements, casting his face away from hers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry I shouldn’t have startled you. I guess I have a bad habit.”

Bad habit huh? Marinette had one of those too.

The silence which settled on them both was heavy, uncomfortable, and borderline unbearable. It was laden with memories of the night before, swirling around them, echoing in their minds as though they were standing in an empty theatre, watching their mistakes projected on a screen with no means of escape.

Because it was a mistake… wasn’t it? She hadn’t meant to kiss him, he probably regretted kissing her back. That was why he was here- of that she was sure. To think he was here for any other reason was just asking for a broken heart.

But, oh god, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not to her. She couldn’t ever consider it to be such.

Finally, Marinette could take the silence no longer. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a smile onto her face, painted a picture of a girl who had herself together at least a little, and placed a hand on her hip.

“No rose tonight?”

Chat’s cat-ears twitched. He peered over at her with a puzzled frown before he realised she was teasing. Something dark crossed his eyes and Marinette forgot how to breathe. The look was gone before she could concentrate on it fully, and she found that he was smiling back at her.

“Err, n-no. No. That is- I mean- unfortunately not,” he replied with his signature bow. “But I do have something far more important.”

“Oh really?” Marinette squeaked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. She’d wanted her voice to be sensual and teasing, but instead it sounded like she’d inhaled a ton of helium instead. Clearing her throat, she tried again, arching her eyebrow for good measure and all the while thrilled at the fact that he was simply there. Chat Noir was there. He’d come back to her. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“About last night,” Chat continued, shuffling from foot to foot, completely unaware of how Marinette’s body, mind, and heart had seized up all at once. “I feel like I made a terrible impression. I- well- I’m not the type of guy to do… what I did.”

From the depths of despair and panic, Marinette felt the faintest hints of confusion. She latched onto it. Confusion was better than rejection.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well I’m not really a playboy or anything, despite what the media likes to speculate about me. I don’t kiss strangers on balconies. I guess, I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression about me.”

When Marinette hung her head, Chat felt a wave of regret wash over him. He’d practiced what he wanted to say, over and over again but it never seemed enough to fully explain himself- not without revealing to her that he was Adrien Agreste and he’d been lying to her this entire time. He was too afraid of the ramifications of that- so he needed to end this now- before he hurt her.

Damn it, he’d gotten so close though. So close to knowing what they could have- what they could be.

But it was a fantasy. Chat Noir was a large part of him, but it wasn’t all of him. The person he was behind the mask was locked away from Marinette, was a separate entity in her eyes.

Who was he fooling? They couldn’t be together. Not like this.

He had to try harder as Adrien and if she rejected him he would simply pick up the pieces of his broken heart. He would respect her, be her friend, move on, and certainly not use Chat Noir’s hero status as a means to trick her into loving him. She deserved better, deserved the world, even if he wasn’t the one to give it to her.

That’s why he had to leave. Right now. Being here, being this close to her, was crumbling his resolve. Every cute gesture she made was another step closer to his damnation. He had to leave before he said or did something he’d regret, before his principles were lost to the wind.

“It was Valentine’s day. I guess… it’s easy to get swept up in the romance of the day, right?” Marinette said. She was smiling, but the sparkle in her eyes was dulled somehow. Once again Chat’s attention was drawn to the green ribbons in her hair, as she quickly tucked a few strands behind her ears. He couldn’t bring herself to speak as she grew distant, deep in her own thoughts, and her shoulders raised. “But if we’re being honest Chat, I was worried you’d see me in a bad light too. Like- I mean- I’m not the kind of girl who kisses random celebrities and I’m certainly not the type to blab to the press about it either.”

“I didn’t ever think you were,” he uttered, swallowing thickly, and a little bit of sparkle returned to Marinette’s eyes. Her cheeks turned pink again.

Chat felt his claws digging painfully into his palms.

“Well… that’s a relief. I mean I always admired you,” Marinette stammered out the confession before she meant to, quickly covering her blunder with half-truths. “You know you saved me once- from an akuma. You didn’t notice me at the time, and it was years ago, but I never forgot.”

Chat felt as though he’d been physically struck by her words.

He’d saved her? He’d saved Marinette? And he hadn’t noticed her?!

“I wish I’d seen you,” he said before he could help himself. The rest of his desires remained unsaid, as new possibilities, new what ifs, formed in his mind- like an alternate reality.

Chat inwardly cringed. No way in hell was he going to get any sleep that night.

“I wish you’d seen me too,” Marinette admitted.

Chat’s hand was halfway to hers before he yanked it back, his heart beating wildly, his mind screaming at him to leave. The pull was almost tangible, magnetic, drawing him closer to her. It was dangerous, and he needed to leave.

“I hate to be a sundae, but I have to split!” he laughed, high and fake, all the while cringing at what was perhaps the worst pun he’d ever made. And that was saying something.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but laughed once.

Ok, she thought, maybe she was ridiculous, but he was equally so. Maybe that’s why she loved him so much.

She watched him make his way to the edge of the balcony and something stirred inside her, the raw feelings which had sparked when their lips had met woke from their slumber, and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Chat?” her voice matched the soft tremors echoing through her body, and she tried to remember to breathe. She couldn’t let him leave like this, she’d been so close. “How about…one last kiss?”

Chat stilled, statue-like. His lips parted, and Marinette panicked.

“I mean!” she corrected, face turning to flames, “I mean sorry that was dumb- so dumb. It’s just that I- I liked that kiss and I thought- I don’t know what I thought- but I wanted to-”

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of Marinette’s sentence was lost forever.

Chat kissed her, kissed her with a resolve thoroughly destroyed and a heart so indescribably owned; owned by her, possessed by her, consumed by her. His hands were frantic, and Marinette matched him in every way as they pressed into each other. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, tangled in his hair, and pulled him closer.

Like he needed an excuse to get closer to her.

The pair of them moved apart to breathe, great shuddering breaths, and then their lips were together again- as neither of them could stand to be apart for a moment. Chat’s fingers slid from her hands to grip her hips, a primal, dark part of him triumphant as he heard a moan slip from Marinette’s mouth.

They stumbled backwards, towards the wall, and Chat pressed her against it, hands roaming her sides- never going too far- always listening to her reactions. Desire coursed through him, a need to please her, to make her moan again, without pushing too far.

She must have sensed him falter, sensed his caution, as a frustrated hum rose from the back of her throat, almost like a purr of her own. Her hands moved from his hair, gripping the bell around his throat, and she tugged him down towards her, kissing his neck.

Chat was having a hard time not passing out from that alone, but then she rolled her hips, making it so there wasn’t a sliver of streetlight between them, and he was fairly certain he died and was reborn on the spot.

Dangerous was the word whispering in his mind, the word he was ignoring as his hands cupped the sides of Marinette’s face, tilting her head back. She arched into him again, countering his movements like a dance, and he gasped.

It felt too natural, too perfect… almost…familiar.

Dangerous he thought as his tongue flicked against her lips.

Dangerous- he thought as her mouth opened and he was rewarded with another moan.

Stop. Stop before you can’t, he pleaded with himself as Marinette’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, her fingernails scratching against his neck.

He didn’t stop.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, passion moving from an explosive force to one of slow-burning sensuality, settling into a rhythm that was far too natural, but neither of them could bring themselves to mind.

It was a long time before Chat could bring himself to leave her, to stop kissing her. It was addictive, intoxicating, and filled with promise. For months his heart had been starved, yearning and wishing, and now it was real. Their kisses were real, her affections were real.

And so was her voice, ringing out in the coldness of the night, in answer to his question, “May I see you tomorrow night, Princess?”

There was a pause, both of them treading on thin ice, ice which slowly creaked and groaned beneath their feet.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the ice shattered, plunging them both into unknown depths.

(art to follow)

Interruptions

Request: “peter parker smut where the reader is either the daughter of an avenger or maybe just an avenger or something but she lives in the avengers compound (let’s just say peter decided to take tony up on his offer) and she’s dating peter and he sneaks into her room and just as they’re about to start round 2 one of the avengers catches them”

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: SMUTTT

“Good job team.” Tony gave a forced smile before quickly retreating to get a drink.

You looked to Peter, who was still heaving with bloody tears in his suit. You pulled him by the arm wordlessly to your room, sitting him down while you retrieved your first aid kit. He was still a little dazed from the fight, but as you pulled out a clean needle he gave you an adorable smile.

“If you say ‘this isn’t going to hurt’ I’m going to-“

“Kill me?” You smirked. Peter huffed a laugh, leaning back as you started stitching his wounds.

“You know, I think we’re too good for each other sometimes. We can barely get out a sentence without the other knowing how it’ll end.” You shook your head with a rogue smile. “We’re becoming a gross, sappy couple. I hate it.”

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Don’t Objectify Me!

Summery: Based on this Sinful Sunday Ask

Triggers: Smutty smut, Angry bucky, Dom(ish)!bucky (wasn’t my intention but it happened) Unprotected sex (Before you tap it, wrap it), Masturbation

Word Count: 1600+

A/N: I don’t wanna go to college tomorrow, also the inventor of coursework needs to fight me.

Masterlist

Originally posted by coporolight

‘Do you not fucking speak english?!’ You screamed over at Bucky. The two of you were meant to meet for dinner at one of your favourite restaurants after you had finished work. You booked a table there for 6, giving you enough time to get home and change before you got there.

‘Yes, I speak over 30 languages’ Bucky yelled back at you, taking off the gym clothes he wore to meet Steve earlier that day. According to your boyfriend you had said seven so he thought he could finish at the gym at 6;30 giving him half an hour to get ready. Only when he got home you sitting on the bed, all dressed up and fuming from having to wait for him.

‘Ok. I’ll say what I said to you yesterday is Spanish. Seis!’ your hair was pinned back and styled so you took it out, facing the mirror but you could still see his reflection.

‘You said seven!’ He was now taking off his hoodie and shirt. You were so mad at him but he looked so good.

‘I said six!’

‘No, you didn’t’

‘Why would I book a table at six then tell you seven? What, you think I want to spend quality time with my glass of fucking water’ you finally turned to look him in the eye, but he couldn’t look at you. For a second you weren’t sure if he was angry or upset. But then you heard the metallic whirring of his arm, it was very distinctive when he was angry 

‘I’m not doing this right now’ He turned away from you, his hands in the air. Then stormed off into the bathroom, slamming the door hard behind him.

‘Good. Fuck off then’

Keep reading