Hair-Strands

Yoonjin + baby!Jikook

Starring in a lil’ Office AU

Word count: 1.1k+

Fanart that inspired this ♥

Originally posted by yoongichii


“Papa! Papa, look!”

Min Yoongi turns to find little Jungkookie jumping up and down, holding something between his tiny fingers.

“What is it?” he asks, following the boy’s movement.

“It’s a HAT!”

“Is it?” Yoongi says with a chuckle.

“It’s a BUNNY HAT!”

“I see.”

“I NEED IT!”

“You do?”

“YEAH!”

“Really?”

“YEAH!!!”

In his enthusiasm, Jungkook somehow trips on his own feet and loses his balance.

“Careful!” Yoongi exclaims, catching the kid in extremum.

The boy blinks and gets back up. As if nothing had happened, he starts jumping again.

“Papa, I need this hat!!!”

“Hm…” Yoongi lets out, an overly attentive expression on his face. “In exchange, will you clean your room?” he asks.

Jungkook stops moving. A few seconds pass.

He takes a deep breath, thoughtful. His eyes fall on the piece of clothing.

“Okay!” he says with determination, holding the hat up.

“Promise?”

“Promise!”

“Then… fine. It’s yours,” he says, putting the item into the shopping cart.

“YAYY!!” Jungkook exclaims, and he starts running around again.

Yoongi sighs, but he can’t help but grin.

*****

“Stop trying to take your shirt off,” Kim Seokjin demands.

“But it’s too warm…” Jimin says with a pout.

“I know, love,” Jin replies, picking the boy up. “But it’s not warm enough to only wear one layer. Plus, this looks really cute on you.”

Jimin glances down at his chick hoodie and puffs his cheeks.

“You’re the cutest cutiepie!” Jin declares, pulling the hood on his kid’s fluffy hair.

“But Daddy, it’s too hot!”

“Shush,” Jin retorts with a half-smile. “You wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, now, would you?”

Jimin shakes the hood away and Jin sighs, giving up. Holding Jimin with his left arm, he somehow manages to get out of the house in one piece. He walks to the car.

“Good morning, boss,” the chaffeur greets him.

“‘morning!”

As he’s pulling the seatbelt across his boy’s belly, Jin notices the kid is avoiding eye contact.

You can’t be serious,” he thinks.

“Are you mad at me…?” Jin asks.

Silence.

“Hey.”

“Hmpf.”

“Jiminie?”

No answer.

“Ah…” Jin lets out. “I was going to bake you some cookies tonight, but since you’re mad at me…”

Jimin slowly turns his head. They stare at each other.

“With chocolate chips?” the boy asks in a small voice.

Jin smirks. “Loads of it.”

Jimin purses his lips and slowly pulls his hood up.

*****

Jungkook hides behind Yoongi’s leg, peeking at the stranger before him.

“Is there anything we should know?” the woman asks Yoongi.

“Well,” he replies. “He’s a bit shy… And, you know, we just moved here, so he’s still a bit disoriented.”

“I can see that,” she chuckles.

They talk a bit, and already it’s time for Yoongi to leave. He carefully pushes little Jungkook towards the woman.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“But…” the boy breathes, lips trembling.

Yoongi bends down to Jungkook’s level.

“Hey…” he breathes, putting a hand against the other’s cheek. “You’re gonna met new friends, and it’s going to be fun, I swear. I’ll be back before you know it. Okay?”

“Papa…” Jungkook says, his eyes watery.

Yoongi kisses his forehead.

“I have to go. I love you, and I’ll come pick you up as soon as I can.”

“…promise?”

Yoongi’s lips curve into his cheeks. “Promise.”

*****

The new daycare’s employee bows when Jin comes into the room. They politely chat for a minute, but Jin can tell she’s uncomfortable. It’s almost like “CEO” is written in neon letters above his head. He excuses himself.  

“Bye, Daddy!” Jimin shouts.

Jin gently pats his head. “I’ll see you in a bit, lil’ mochi.”

*****

The fact that the coffee is still too hot doesn’t stop Yoongi from taking a long sip. The amount of social interaction a first day at work demands is truly draining.

And lunchtime hasn’t even passed yet,” he thinks as he offers a forced smile to an umptieth new colleague.

*****

Kim Seokjin loosens his tie. It’s been a long day.

He walks towards the daycare center. Jin’s eyebrows dart up when he hears loud voices and cries. His pace quickens.

“-can’t stay here forever, Kookie!”

“Yes, I can!”

“You’ll be back tomorrow! Now, come on, take your backpack. We’re going home.”

“No, no, no!”

Jin arrives at the scene, head slightly tilted. Before him, a man is crouching next to a little boy… who appears to be holding Jimin’s hand.

“What’s the matter?” Jin questions, taking a step forward.

The daycare’s employee jumps. “Sir! I- I didn’t see you enter. We, uh- We’re having a bit of trouble…”

“I can see that,” Jin replies, and the employee blushes furiously. “No, I didn’t mean-” He pauses, internally sighing. “Jiminie, what are you doing?”

“I’m playing with my friend Kookie.”

The man who was talking to the pair turns to Jin.

“This is your kid?” he asks.

Jin blinks. Strange. People rarely even look him in the eye, and this man talks to him in such a familiar manner.

“Yup,” Jin answers.

“Then, can you help me out? They won’t stop holding hands!”

“…what?”

“Kookie won’t let go of your kid’s hand! He wants to… Uh- I’m not actually sure what he wants.”

“I wanna stay with Chimchim!” the boy declares, and Jimin nods with vigor.

“I already told you-”

“But I like Chimchim! I wanna be with him!”

The man turns to Seokjin, an exhausted expression upon his face. “Help,” he mouths.

Jin remains silent a few moments, taking in the absurdity of the situation.

“You wanna stay with Kookie too, Jimin?” Seokjin asks.

“Yes!”

“How much?”

“Hmmm,” Jimin mumbles. “As much as I love you!”

A laughter escapes Jin’s lips, and he turns to the other boy’s father.

“What your name?” he inquires.

“Me? Uh- It’s Min Yoongi.”

“Yoongi…” Jin says thoughtfully. “What about dinner?”

“What?”

“Dinner.”

A silence.

“We could eat out together with the kids. On me.”

Yoongi appears confused.

“Do you happen to have plans tonight?” Jin inquires.

“N-no, but-”

“Then it’s settled!” Jin says with a grin.

Yoongi is too stunned to reply. By the time he has gathered his wits, the children are uttering happy shouts. Eyes on Jungkook’s beaming face, Yoongi feels his protest die in his throat.

“Shall we?” Jin asks, already holding his son’s bag.

Yoongi hesitates. He takes a last look at Jungkook.

He’s got me wrapped around his little finger…” he thinks.

“Well?” Jin questions.

“Sure… Let’s go.”

*****

Little Jungkook is soundly sleeping on the side of the booth. His head is leaning against Jimin, who has drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“They’re pretty goddam adorable, aren’t they?” Jin whispers, bringing Yoongi back to reality.

Yoongi takes a few seconds to answer, observing the kids. “They sure are…”

The children breath regularly, strands of hair falling on their foreheads.

“I could watch him sleep for hours,” Jin murmurs.

“You don’t even know how much I relate to that statement,” Yoongi says with a soft chuckle.

They remain silent, smiling.

“So…” Jin says, and Yoongi turns to him.

“So?”

“Is it time to head home?”

“Oh,” Yoongi lets out flatly. “I guess it’s getting late-”

“Unless you want to chat.”

Yoongi opens his mouth. Closes it. Lightly frowns.

Jin feels his cheeks heat up. “Not that you have to, of course, I just mean that- well, I thought since you’re new and all I could uh- tell you how things are around here and- and all that… You know…”

He mentally slaps himself and thinks of what an idiot he is… But then Yoongi’s lips curl up, and Jin’s mind goes blank.

“Why not?” Yoongi lets out.


I love to write about smol!bts so much asdfghjkl :’)) Thanks to @yorlenisama for her beautiful fanarts and to @weakforjin on twitter for the basic idea ♥

ADA Rafael Barba: 10 Minutes

Why? Because I love when everyone’s already assembled and seemingly waiting for Barba to stroll in before they pounce. And I’ve listened to this like twenty times this morning

Originally posted by draconisglow


The phone. Of course. It’s always the phone.

Rafael moaned, and jut an arm out towards the nightstand in order to snatch the offensive device from its place. The alarm, here as it was every too-early-morning; and as always, a second moan, to vocalize how very much he hated it.

This morning, though, instead of slipping away to go back to sleep; you were surprisingly roused and determined.

“No,” you begged, shamelessly slipped arms around his torso in a feeble attempt to keep him still. “Noooo;” this time, your plea came with lips pressed to his shoulder blade, over and over again.

Of course, Rafael let you surround him as you wished, but tried to be the responsible voice in the bed: “I have to-”

You lay a fingertip over his lips, hoping to cease the objection before it gained much traction. “Please, Rafi, just today-” a pout, a whine, and he rolled his eyes in response to the theatrics. “Ten minutes;” your hold tightened, hopefully, and you brazenly rocked your head side to side to show precisely how you refused to resign to your fate of an empty bed. “Just for the next ten minutes, Rafi, oh please…”

Longingly, he sighed, glanced down from the phone to your arms. In the most delicate manner, with just a single fingertip, he trailed a line from your wrist to elbow- the touch tickled, you squirmed closer towards him, and he considered all the routines he had in the morning… all the many things he had to do in order to be proper before getting out of the door in time…

Keep reading

archiveofourown.org
No Strings Attached - musvitten - Voltron: Legendary Defender [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: None

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Relationship: Keith/Lance

Wordcount: 50K


Summary: “So… he just shows up at your door?” Pidge squinted at him, adjusting their glasses.

“Yup.”

“Do you know where he lives?” More squinting.

“Nope.”

“What’s his major?”

“Dunno.”

Pidge sighed in frustration, dropping their sandwich onto the table in favor of tugging at their hair strands.

“Lance, what do you even know?”-

(Or: Lance engages in casual sex with Keith just to realize that it might not be as casual as he’s pretending it to be)

ceylon-morphe286  asked:

how u do the hair and shading on your pencil art? im still having trouble with those two

I usually take drawing hair with pencil one step at a time. First I fill in a basic shape of the hair and add some texture. I do this very lightly to that if I don’t like the direction or shape I can fix it easily. Then I try to add some contrast by shading with darker pencils where the hair would part and try to define individual strands of hair. It’s hard to explain.. but I do have some of my older drawing videos that kind of shows my process :) Hope this helps!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P3DWoZp0k6I < One of my pencil drawing videos!

anonymous asked:

Since someone else already did the hair you should add strands to the front or make it a bob just suggestions you don’t have to do it :^)

lol I saw and it’s way better than mine but I’ll keep this in mind! Maybe different bangs? I’ll see what I can do

washing my hair in twists… was… a life changing decision cuz:

  1. shampoo time is now 15 minutes at the most
  2. cleans yet doesn’t strip hair strands of moisture
  3. it’s really easy to access my scalp
  4. NO TANGLES!!!! NO BREAKAGE!!!!
  5. again, way less time consuming = no stress 
Mischievous Maintenance (M)

Summary: You have an eventful Monday, thanks to the ever-resourceful head maintenance technician who works in your office.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 6,913

Warning: MaintenanceTechnician!Jimin, workplace hookup, sexual themes, dirty talk, rough sex, oral sex, profanity

Series: Working Man Bangtan

A/N: Hope you enjoy this quick and dirty oneshot!

Keep reading

know it all — p.p.

summary : may parker can’t fathom that you and her nephew aren’t dating yet- she can’t wait forever, you know, and she knows it’s going to happen eventually. when has may ever been wrong?

word count : 3k

author’s note : long time no see?? LOL sophomore year is successfully kicking my ass but i wrote this and it’s semi long so?? 

   May Parker prides herself on a lot of things- namely, her stunning resilience in the face of immense adversity, and the way she just seems to know things. She can’t help it, it’s her not so lame superpower and she uses it on Peter all the time, much to his annoyance. She earns a roll of the eyes whenever she says something out of the blue, so profound Peter can’t help but contemplate its credibility for the hours that follow their interactions. She knows things, she does, and she knows that you and her nephew are as meant to be as her and Ben were- are, she chastises herself sometimes- and she knows it so truly in the deepest recesses of her heart that the fact that you and Peter aren’t together is something that goes right over her head. 

   “Peter, hon, when’s your girl coming over? I miss having other ladies in the house,” she says one day, interrupting the silence that had settled upon the pair  as Peter recited the periodic table of elements so naturally in his head in preparation for a quiz the following day. Peter loses track somewhere between lithium and beryllium or maybe it was phosphorus, he doesn’t know anymore, when he hears May call you that, his girl, and he shakes his head at her wildly. “What? What’d I say?” May points her wooden spoon at him, and Peter’s reminded that she’s Italian for the fifth time that day. 

   “May, she’s not- she’s not my, like, girlfriend,” he stresses each syllable the word carries, practically throwing his pencil across the table when he turns his chair to get a better view of his aunt as she prepares dinner- pasta, again, because she claims it’s the only thing she can’t possibly mess up. “You know that! Y/N’s been my best friend forever.” 

    “You realize you can be best friends with your girlfriend, don’t you?” Peter can sense May’s eyes rolling even though he can’t see her since she’s facing the stove with her back turned. “You two have definitely kissed. You can’t tell me you haven’t.” 

    Peter’s entire face feels hot when she says that, his hands clammy when he presses them together against his cheeks, placing his elbows on the table to prop his head up. “That’s embarrassing, May. Why would you ever ask me that?” He runs his hands through his hair and the gel is so terribly packed on it that the carefully prepared hairstyle comes undone with one swift movement. “We haven’t, in case you’re wondering, which I know you are because you’re nosy.” Peter feels the spoon lightly poke into his back, a playful warning. 

   “Anyways,” May continues loudly, “as I was saying before, your girlfriend should come over for dinner sometime this week. I’m making pasta.” She grins before placing a bowl of penne in front of Peter, his least favorite pasta shape. Peter scowls at the penne but picks up his fork anyway and shoves some in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully for a moment before giving May a thumbs up. At least she was proud of it. “I won’t make penne if you get her to come over.” 

    She knows she’s got him when she sees the slow, unsure nod start. He sticks his hand out, and May shakes it happily. “Only because of the penne. I want bowties. Please,” he gives his aunt his best, brightest, sweetest smile he can form, much like the ones that come so naturally when he turns his gaze to look at you- but May won’t bring that up just yet. “And don’t make girlfriend jokes in front of her.” His utensil stabs into the pasta as he thinks to himself, ‘cause if you keep it up in front of her, she’ll think I’m a weirdo and I’ll never genuinely get to call Y/N that, ever. Honestly, he’d much rather launch himself headfirst off of the Empire State Building than never get to experience kissing you, holding your hand, being with you in all those sorts of hopelessly romantic ways that he daydreams about regularly. He’s doing it again, slipping into that endless reverie he always seems to find himself lost in. But it’s okay. His mind is a chasm of soft loves and sweet words shared between the two of you. It’s a beautiful, long mess of a dream. 

   “You lost, Pete?” May snaps her fingers in front of his face, bemused. 

    “A little,” he sighs in that dreamy tone she recalls her own self indulging in so fondly in her younger years. His gaze becomes hazy again, like he’s on another plane entirely, but she lets him be. For now. 


    Peter knows he’s dressing up a little too much for just a friend. He’s spraying too much strong cologne and gelling his hair excessively and praying you won’t notice the fact that it’ll be dryer than the leaves in the wintertime, but it’s all too much for someone he insists is his best friend and his best friend alone, nothing more and nothing less, certainly not his girlfriend. Never that, right? Peter frowns at his reflection and tilts his head down, rubbing his head in attempt to remove most of the gel that had been a serious mistake in the first place. You preferred his hair curly, anyway. Not that he cared. Not in the slightest. He puts on the sweater that you once said looked lovely on him and he wears his nice jeans, the ones without that stupid hole near the butt cheek that you can’t really see unless you’re trying

   His cheeks flush when May gives a tiny, satisfied smirk upon seeing his perfectly put together outfit. He acts as if no time at all was spent on his appearance, but she knows him, like she knows everything else, and she knows that he’s been holed up in the bathroom for over twenty minutes now trying to see which shirt matched his eyes best and debating the chances of you realizing that this was the sweater you liked the most on him before he put it on and beamed at himself in the mirror. Maybe it was the color or the stitching or the fabric but he was starting to like this one much more, too. 

   “You look very handsome, sweets,” May says to him, squeezing his shoulder as she brushes past him to place a salad on the table. Peter surveys the salad with a strange look on his face. 

   “Why’d you make a salad? Since when does Y/N eat salad?” He raises his eyebrows at her, before adding with haste, “not that I don’t love your salad, Aunt May, ‘cause I do. I promise.”  

   Aunt May places her hands on her hips, peering at him through the tops of her glasses in a way that makes her look too wise for someone as young as she was. “I’m making a good impression, obviously.” 

   “You’ve known her for like ten years now, the time for good impressions is over, May. You missed your chance.”

   “This is the first time I’m seeing Y/N as your girlfriend, though!” Peter lets out the loudest groan imaginable, running his hands over his cheeks and slapping his forehead with great vexation. 

   “Still not my girlfriend,” he insists on insisting, taking the extra plates out of her busy hands and helping to set the small kitchen table. 

   May smooths back a loose strand of hair from his forehead with a kind, teasing grin on her face. “Doesn’t mean you don’t want her to be, kiddo.” 

   He can’t possibly argue with that sort of logic, especially not when his aunt hits the nail right on the head in that peculiar way she has a habit of doing, so he just smiles and kisses May on the cheek. There’s a knock on the door less than a second later, and the pair scramble for the upper hand before Peter beats her to it and nearly flies to grab the handle of it and yank it open so he can greet you accordingly, slightly out of breath with his hair flopping to one quite nicely and a joyous smile making its way across his mouth when he sees you for the first time that day. May hovers earnestly behind him, hands fluttering over her nephew’s shoulders so she can push past him to wrap you in a hug if need be. Sometimes Peter has the impression that May adores you even more than he does; he wasn’t sure if he should be glad for that, or a bit offended that you seemed to return the blatant favoritism with ardency. 

   There was a brief second where your eyes raked over your best friend’s face with soft admiration, hidden as carefully as you could manage. When you met his appreciative gaze you felt the palms of your hands clam up and so you cast your look back to his aunt and playfully pushed past him to give her a hug. 

   Peter, offense overriding his previously somewhat moonstruck expression, backed away from you when you finally turned toward him with your arms outstretched. “Oh, now I get a hug? Interesting,” he rolls his eyes in a teasing manner, unable and unwilling to conceal his little, loving smile that appeared when you pried his arms off his chest and defiantly wrapped them around yourself as you hugged him. “Didn’t seem so interested in hugging me when you were shoving me away to get to May,” he says, craning his neck to stare at you whilst continuing to drag the embrace out for as long as possible. 

   “You’re still my favorite Parker,” you reply, poking his chest lightly. Then you turn away before you can say anything else that could be considered too revealing of certain, carefully concealed feelings that had the possibility of being detrimental to a beautiful friendship that had manifested over the years into something more, but not quite, not yet. “Sort of,” you put as an afterthought, lest he get any ideas about you feeling… something for him. “Anyways, what’s for dinner, May?” You anticipate pasta, and when May announces the dish with a great flourishing of her hand, you grin. Typical, yes, but nothing if not welcomed. 

  Peter, gentleman that he is, pulls out your chair for you, and you let yourself imagine that he’s doing it as a chivalrous boyfriend and not simply a polite friend. He imagines the same, though. Imagines that he’s on a date with you and he pulls out your chair and smiles kindly and lovingly- and he basks in this image for as long as he can. May calls you over then, and the daydream is shattered. You make your way over to her in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. 

   May lowers her voice before speaking, “Y/N, I’m gonna need you to explain something to me,” she starts. You nod, raising your eyebrows at her. “Explain why you and Peter aren’t together yet. Honestly, honey, I just can’t understand it.” She talks with her hands the way Peter does. 

   “Uh- what? I, um, I don’t… understand?” Your voice cracks a little, as if having May practically shove your less than friendly feelings for Peter back in your face wasn’t embarrassing enough. “We’re, um, you know, like, friends.” 

   Her hand waves dismissively, pushing that sentence away. “No, no, see that’s what he said, too! I have to disagree. I know everything, kiddo, and I know that you two are going to make it as a couple, so if that’s what your afraid of, don’t be. Go for it. I see the same thing in him that I see in you right now, and that thing is love. So, I’m going to need you to go make my nephew the happiest kid on Earth and tell him you’re falling in love with him, and you’ll see that he’s going to say the same thing to you. Trust me. Aunt May knows all,” she shrugs in a casual manner, brushing her confidence off, before she steers you around and gently pushes you back toward the tiny dining room table where Peter sits awkwardly fiddling with his thumbs with his lip caught between his teeth. 

   “Hi,” you almost whisper, settling down in your seat across from him. 

   He glances up. “Hey,” he says, smiling again. A reflex, in your presence. He clears his throat, then asks, “So, what’d you and May talk about?” He knows May loves him as if he were her son, which for all intents and purposes he is, but he can’t be sure of her secrecy. He wouldn’t put it past his aunt to let slip “accidentally” that he liked you, loved you, cared for you. 

   You take a sip of your glass of water that Peter must have filled in your absence from the table. You had a tendency to take sips of your drink when in uncomfortable conversations, or conversations you felt nervous in. He notes that. “Oh, um, nothing really… but if were gonna talk about it, I’d wanna do it in, like, private?” You twirl your straw around your drink, mixing the ice in the glass. Peter abruptly stands from his chair. You watch him sling a jacket around his shoulders and throw one of his sweaters at you, which you catch easily. “You wanna go now?” 

   He nods, licking his lips anxiously. “No better time than the present, right?” If you’re going to confront him and crush his heart with a single sentence that stands along the lines of I see you as a friend, he wants it done sooner rather than later. He wants it over with, so he can go back to his suffering in comfortable silence and start an attempt to move past this crush the way he had easily drifted away from his crush on Liz Allan. You fumble with the sweater as you stand. “May, we’re gonna step out for a bit!” Peter announces, opening the front door of his apartment and letting you slip out first. He doesn’t wait for her response before he disappears, too. May watches the two of you leave and feels her heart grow twice its size. 

  You’re standing outside the apartment building ten minutes later in the chilly autumn breeze, thankful for the cologne scented sweater that rests over your body like a warm blanket. Peter’s hands are never cold, and so they linger outside of his pockets as opposed to yours, shoved inside the front pocket of the sweater he’s given you. He reaches for your hands wordlessly and rubs them over his. “You’re always freezing,” he laughs quietly, lacing his fingers through yours with a new burst of confidence that you find endearing as you squeeze his hands. “Hey, wanna know something? You might know it already but, I figure I should tell you myself, if you wanna know.” He swings his hands back and forth, and yours swing along with his. 

   “Yeah, please,” you insist, twisting your head to the side to sweep the windswept hair out of your face. One of Peter’s hands comes up to brush it out of the way, typical and cliche and an overplayed move but none of that matters when the action is being carried out, because it makes your stomach constrict in that funny way and your heart melt into a puddle on the dirty sidewalk. His fingers linger over the softness of your cheek, and he keeps his hand there to see what you’ll say about it. You say nothing, let remain there. “You gonna tell me or not?” 

  “Should I- I could maybe…” he sucks on the bottom of his lip. “Forget it, I don’t know how to speak properly around you like this.” You start to protest, demand he tell you because you won’t be able to stop thinking about this if he doesn’t, but every word dies before it can touch the edge of your lips. Peter has his head lowered down toward you and he’s kissing you, a thought that’s crossed your mind more times than you were able to count but now, it’s happening. Real lips pressed against yours feverishly, shyness forgotten in the heat of the moment. When he pulls away first, it returns and collides with him as if he’s hit a brick wall, and his cheeks burn red. He makes no move to back away, still. “D-Did I step out of line? Was that okay? Do you hate me? ‘Cause if you do we can go back upstairs or you can leave and then on Monday we can pretend that this never happened because you’re still my best friend no matter what even if it’s awkward-” 

   Your hands clasp together around the back of his neck as you yank him down toward you again, and this time you kiss him back. You can feel him smiling so hard it makes it difficult to kiss him, but when you break away to tell him that, he just laughs and smiles harder and keeps kissing you. He doesn’t know how to stop now that’s he had the opportunity. You’re both laughing hysterically and trying to kiss properly and his nose bumps against yours repeatedly, and it’s the most perfect first kiss in the world. 

   He keeps his hand firmly grasped in yours when you go back upstairs to his seventh floor apartment, opens the door for you and everything. May is sitting at the table, turns her head to the both of you and peers at you from the top of her glasses. Peter raises his hand and yours, triumphant. May claps her hands together as he, your boyfriend, declares proudly, “Aunt May, I would like to formally introduce you to my girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, who I hope will be sticking around?” He looks to you for reassurance, and gets what he needs from the happy kiss you bestow upon the side of his face. 

   “I told you two I know everything!” Is what breaks the joyous silence, and then the laughter starts again; a perfectly lovely family. 

Keep reading

Types as Seasonal Aesthetics

Spring

ISFP: You are the specks of pink cherry blossoms blowing in the wind and the pleasant breeze whispering against people. 

ENFJ: You are the first warm day after the blistering cold; a sign of hope. 

ESFJ: You are the very picture of a family having a nice picnic in a lusciously green park.

ENTP: You are the pesky allergies that come with the season making it more bittersweet. 

Summer

ENFP: You are the wanderlust, exploring the unknown depths of the unpredictable sea. 

ESFP: You are the city lights at night and a thirst quenching glass of a cocktail drink. 

ESTJ: You are that one friend who encourages physical activities and fun not be wasted on this season. 

ISTP: You are a pair of sunglasses; chic and protecting people’s eyes from the dangers of the sun rays. 

Autumn

INFP: You are the crispy, fall morning and the wind blowing through strands of hair. 

INTP: You are the solitude of chilly nights and empty roads.

ISTJ: You are the mystical fog and the beginning of school. 

ISFJ: You are the beautiful, colorful leaves decorating houses, pavements and cars. 

Winter

ESTP: You are the chaotic and turbulent snow storms. You are the thrill of sliding down white covered mountains.

ENTJ: You are the cold air from people’s lips and the fatal sting of frostbites from being outside too long. 

INTJ: You are the rage of sleet and the sharp edges of ice. 

INFJ: You are the warm smell of hot chocolate and cinnamon on Christmas Eve.

bin-of-gayness  asked:

Another prompt, sorry I’m sending you another one but I just thought of this, Keith listening to Lance and Allura’s Allurance moment over the comms in the new defender and getting hurt and jealous because he thinks Lance is replacing him or something??

Hey so I’m not going to do exactly this prompt, but I like the idea of Keith noticing Lance and Allura growing closer, so he starts to feel sad and insecure about potentially losing what small chance he had with Lance. So here’s that!


Keith pilots his ship into the caste’s hangar with the adrenaline of their recent fight still coursing through his veins. His uneasiness over his near-death experience has been temporarily forgotten as he prepares himself to see his friends again. He knows they’re alive, but he won’t feel calm until he can see them with his own eyes. Touch them. Hear their voices without the aid of communicators.

Keith fumbles with his seat belt before he launches himself out of the ship and into the castle’s halls. He still remembers its complicated layout like he was here yesterday. His heavy footfalls clang against the metal floor. 

He reaches the armoury at the same time as the other paladins. Shirt has ripped and is almost back in his civvies. Hunk is giving Pidge a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.

“Hey…”

But Keith is cut off by the sounds of whooping echoing through the halls. Allura jogs into the room and Lance sprints in from the other side.

“Allura!” He calls. Even underneath his helmet his brilliant smile is visible. Allura laughs and prepares herself.

Lance whips her up into his arms, spinning her around and laughing. She clings tightly to his neck and kicks out her feet.

“You did so well!” Lance slows down and starts to slowly set Allura’s feet on the ground. He continue to hold onto her waist as she removes her helmet. A few strands of hair have been loosened from her bun, but she otherwise looks perfect.

“I knew you could do it! Didn’t I say? Aren’t I always right?” Lance moves his hands to Alura’s shoulders and shakes her good naturedly. Allura laughs and reaches out remove Lance’s helmet for him. 

“Well I couldn’t have done it without you.” She smiles. Lance flushes.

“Aw nah, that was all you I promise.” He nervously rubs behind his neck.

“Even so, Lance…” Allura steps closer and passes him his helmet. Their fingers touch when Lance takes it.

“Thank you.” Allura says seriously. “For believing in me.”

Lance blinks. He’s surprised at the Princess’ gratitude, and isn’t sure how to respond. His open mouth quickly slips into an easy smile. 

“You’re amazing, Allura. I’ll never doubt you for a second.” His voice is low and intimate.

Allura’s cheeks grow dark. She forces Lance’s helmet into his grip and quickly lets go. 

“R…right well uh…” She stammers. Lance laughs and scoops her into a big hug before she can protest. Allura stiffens, then relaxes into the embrace. 

“I knew Blue chose the right person.” Lance sighs. Allura grips Lance tighter.

“My father would definitely approve of you, Lance.” She smiles and the two begin to separate. The air between them is warm.

Keith’s gut feels icy. He stares, transfixed on the spot. He can’t bring himself to emerge from the shadows.

Allura coughs. Lance casts his eyes down.

“We need to get ready…”

“Yes, the Blades of Marmara will be docking soon so…” Allura’s eyes flit sideways and she does a double take as she makes out a figure in the shadows. She jumps slightly, then relaxes when she realises who it is.

“Keith?”

The room falls silent. Everyone’s eyes move over to where Keith hangs in the dark. His hood is still up, but his face is exposed. He holds up a weak hand in a wave.

“Uh… h…hey,” He steps into the room. Lance lights up. Keith hates how it makes his stomach flutter. 

“Keith! How long…?”

“Guys, Kolivan and Captain Olia have docked. We need to meet them in the common room in five.” Shiro announces. Everyone starts to file out of the room, except for Lance. When Keith moves past, Lance reaches out and tugs him back to his side. 

“We’ll catch up in a bit.” Lance calls. Shiro nods and continues to move out.

When the room has grown quiet, Lance turns to Keith with a beaming smile.

“Hey man! How are you?”

Keith stares at him with a skeptical glare.

“You kept me behind for that?” 

C’mon, I know as soon as we walk through these doors you’re going to get swept up in blades junk and it’s gonna be all ‘Lotor this’ and ‘Knowledge or death’ that.” Lance talks animatedly with his arms. It makes Keith smile.

“I’m fine.” He sighs.

“Yeah? We appreciated your cannon work out there. Some real nice shots.” Lance punches him in the bicep. “Though of course, I think you should leave the shooting to the best shot next time, ok?” He winks. Keith rolls his eyes with a grin.

“Sure thing. Though it looked like you had your hands full.” Keith chuckles. “Wandering into that mine field and all.”

“Hey, hey I’m just an arm now!” Lance holds up his hands defensively. “And oh man! Did you see how Allura froze them all! Man it was so easy once she…”

“She’s really great.” Keith interrupts suddenly. Lance is taken aback.

He stares at Keith’s unreadable expression. He looks calculatingly calm. Like he’s intentionally trying to look blank. 

“Hey…” Lance steps forward. “You ok?”

“Fine.” Keith sighs. Lance’s eyebrows scrunch together.

“Are you… listen if you’re jealous because Allura has cooler moves than you…”

“She doesn’t have…”

“Just come back. If you wanna be a big hero again, just come back.” Lance states. Frustration taints his words. Keith shakes his head.

“That’s not it. I’m sorry. You two….” He closes his eyes and steals himself. He relaxes into a sad smile.

“You two make a good team.” He states.

The words sink in Lance’s stomach. Keith goes to move past him, but Lance’s grip is on him again. He almost loses his sense of balance as he is yanked into a crushing embrace. Lance’s breath is warm on his ear.

“Hey,” Lance speaks quietly. His grip on Keith is bruising, but Keith doesn’t pull away. Instead his nails begin to dig into the soft body suit Lance wears underneath his armour.

“I’m your right hand man. Don’t forget that.” 

Keith nods. He doesn’t dare to open his mouth out of fear of all the confessions that may come pouring out. 

overly-anxious-chicken  asked:

Headcannon harry telling his parents about Draco?

I like to pretend that no one actually died, let’s all be in denial together!


“Come on, Draco. They’re going to love you, I promise.” Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist from behind and kissed his cheek, trying to sooth his boyfriend.

“What if they don’t?” Draco asked as he nervously fixed his tie in the mirror. He’d never met the Potter’s before and he was extremely nervous, knowing that their families never got along. “I mean, I’m a Malfoy. You really think they’re going to like me?”

Harry sighed. “I know my mom will love you. My dad might take a while, but he’ll open up eventually.” He turned Draco around and kissed him. Harry smiled at him and softly pushed a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Draco smiled back, what would he do without him? “Oh, and my dad might make really bad jokes, so just ignore him. And also my uncles might be there which would make that worse. I usually tune it out whenever my Dad and Uncle Sirius are in the same room together. Good luck with that.”

“Well, that makes me feel better.” Draco commented sardonically. Harry rolled his eyes and kissed him again.

They Apparated to Godric’s Hollow where Harry’s parents lived. Harry was just about to knock on the door when Draco stopped him. “Wait. Give me a second.” He took a deep breath. Harry put a hand on Draco’s shoulder.

“Hey, can I tell you something?” Draco nodded. “I know for a fact that they’ll love you. You know why?” Draco shook his head. “Because I love you. I love you so much, Draco.”

His boyfriend seemed to calm down a bit. “I love you too, Harry.” They kissed softly, not realising that Lily Potter was standing on the other side of the door, listening. She smiled softly as she heard her son speak so kindly, so full of love. It reminded her of the way James spoke to her before she met his parents.

There was a knock on the door that pulled her out of her trance. James and Sirius ran to open it and Remus walked calmly behind, shaking his head fondly at the two men. Lily opened the door and hugged her son.

“Well, don’t hog him.” James joked. He pulled Harry inside just as Lily let go of him, hugging him and asking how he’d been. Sirius did the same with Draco, pulling him into a headlock and giving him a noogie.

“How’s my favourite nephew doing?” He asked and let Draco go. He stumbled to regain his balance and straightened himself up, fixing his hair. Harry smiled amusedly at the slytherin. He looked like a snake that just wandered into a lion’s den.

“I’ve been good.” Draco answered. “Until you attacked me.” He muttered under his breath.

“Mom. Dad. This is my boyfriend, Draco.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr and Mrs. Potter.” He held out a hand for them to shake. Before Lily shook his hand, she turned to her husband and pointed a finger at him.

“Don’t do it.” She scolded, knowing he was about to mimick Draco’s posh accent. James scoffed like he was going to defend himself, but then thought better of it and closed his mouth.

“Nice to meet you too, Draco. Harry has told us so much about you.” Draco smiled at her, grateful for her kindness. “And this is Sirius, James’s boyfriend-” Harry’s father lightly slapped her shoulder. “I mean, best friend. And the only other sane member of this family besides myself is Sirius’s husband, Remus.” She told him, pointing to where Remus was leaning against the wall. He waved at Draco, smiling lightly at him.

“Or as I like to call him, the second hottest person on earth.” Sirius stated and slung an arm around his husband.

“Who’s the first?” Draco asked.

“Me, obviously.” He said, flipping his hair.

“Woah woah wait.” James interrupted. “You don’t think I’m the hottest person on earth?” He asked, looking offended.

“You’re the third hottest, Prongsy.” Sirius winked at him.

“Boyfriends. Told you.” Lily told Draco in a quiet voice. Draco chuckled softly.

The evening had been quite fun and relaxing. The only thing that bothered Draco was that Harry’s father had never talked directly to him. The night was coming to a close when James pulled Draco aside, Lily eyeing him nervously but he sent her a signal that there was nothing to worry about. It was almost creepy how similar Harry and James looked. Draco felt like he was looking at an older version of his boyfriend. Though Harry’s father didn’t have those bright emerald eyes that he adored so much.

“So, you and Harry are pretty serious, huh?” He asked. Draco nodded, not trusting himself to speak. “He seems to really love you. It reminds me a lot of how Sirius and Remus were when they first got together. I can’t say I’m surprised you ended up together though, he was always talking about you, even before you became friends. Anyway, I just wanted to say welcome to the family.”

Draco smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

“Please, call me James.” He pulled the blonde into a hug.

“Oh are we hugging?” He heard Sirius say and join in. “Hey, Evans! Get in here!” He called out. Lily walked in and laughed.

“Boys, you’re smothering the poor lad.” She said and pulled on her husband so he’d let go.

Remus walked in next. “Come now, Pads. I’m sure Draco has had enough of you for one evening.” Sirius detached himself from his nephew and leeched onto Remus instead.

“Can you ever have enough of me, Moony?”

He laughed and kissed his husband on the cheek. “Definitely.”

Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 10/12

Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.

Warning(s): Sexual themes, descriptions of breaking bones, blood, soft-gore.

A/N: 2 parts left are you reddie (bare in mind both boys are 17 lmao)

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 (Soon) | 

Both Richie and Eddie drove for what seemed like hours, both of their hands intertwined as they drove along the snow road- miles away from Derry, safe and sound. Both windows were down to let the cold breeze flow through and prick at their goosebumps. A small smile lingered upon Eddie’s small lips as he stared out at the small dots of snow lacing through the iced air.

Richie had one hand settled on the smooth leather of the wheel, the other next to him with his pinky finger intertwined with Eddie’s own pinky finger. Richie’s gaze striking at the road before him; his anxiety flaring due to how slippery the road was due to black ice.

Keep reading

Misunderstanding

Series: Tom Holland Imagines

Relationship: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You’ve been secretive around Tom and he’s finally had enough. 

Warnings: Angst, Emotional Tom

A/N: I’m back and ready to attack xx Hope you all enjoy this Imagine :,)


[Reader’s POV]


    Today seemed to go by slowly as you sat around watching people pass around in a blur. Minutes seemed to merge into hours as the morning started turning into the afternoon. Tapping your foot against the bar of the chair you were sitting on. A small hum filling the space around you. 


“Have you seen Tom around?” looking up to the familiar voice you see Chris Evans standing in front of you. Shaking your head no he frowns before taking off towards a different direction. Unlocking your phone you start scrolling through Pinterest again. Your nails tapping against the screen of your phone.

Keep reading

Tongue (Ethan)

⚤ - CONTAINS SMUT

You laid back on your shared bed with your boyfriend, Ethan, scanning aimlessly through your phone. When you had texted Ethan on your way home from the airport he had told you he was out filming something with Grayson.  Neither of you had seen each other in two weeks since you’d come back from your family vacation. You had originally planned to come home a day later but you wanted to surprise Ethan by choosing to come home a little earlier instead. You waited impatiently, tapping your fingers against your thigh until your heart began to pound in your chest at the sound of the apartment door opening and closing. Heavy footsteps shuffled in followed by two familiar voices.

“Dude I think she’s gonna hate it.” You heard Ethan’s laugh and it automatically made your heart sing even though you were questioning what the hell he’d gotten himself into now. You couldn’t leave Ethan or Grayson alone for more than five minutes before one of them was hurting themselves or doing something they’d likely regret later on.

“Maybe she’ll think it’s kind of kinky.” Grayson replied. You heard a smack followed by a loud “Ow!” You narrowed your eyes. What the hell were they talking about? You shook your head and contemplated coming out of the bedroom until you heard Ethan’s footsteps trudging down the hall.

“I’m taking a nap bro. I’m beat.”

The door swung open and Ethan stopped dead, stumbling backwards, clutching his chest with widened eyes.

Keep reading