aluminum for a reason

Jongin - Irritating Boyfriends And Teasing Kisses

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

Warnings: None

Type: Fluff

Requested by: @wangpuppy9

Request: A BF Kai Scenario

(DON’T OWN THE GIFS)

(STILL TAKING REQUESTS)

Hello, wangpuppy9! Thank you so much for your request! I’m not sure how long ago you sent this in, but I’m assuming it was months ago for it to be the first one on my list! I am SO sorry that it took me so long to get to. For some reason I never got a notification so I really didn’t even see it until I reopened my blog a few weeks ago. I tried my best to make a fluffy scenario for you! I’m not the best when it comes to having to make the story up myself, but I hope you enjoy it none the less! I know it’s a little rushed in places, and that the descriptions weren’t exactly the best, but I hope you’re not disappointed. Thank you so much for requesting and thank you so much for being so sweet in your submission! Please feel free to request again! :)

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Mornings were the worst. Period.

Most people would find comfort in the sounds of birds chirping and the warmth of the sun rising, but not you. Nope. You enjoyed the not so soundly peace and quite as you slept until early into the afternoon. You enjoyed the the warmth of your incredibly soft comforter that allowed you to comfortably curl up into a ball. You enjoyed the pleasurable buzz that coursed through your mind as sleep was upon you and dreams took hold of you. You enjoyed the refreshing feeling of sleeping until your body forced itself awake, the deep feeling of happiness and brightness that fills your body after a good nights rest making you smile. And while birds chirping and the sun shining was great and all, you weren’t really the type of person who needed to bask in it. 

At least not before 11:00 A.M. 

But, despite the fact that mornings weren’t exactly your thing, you forced yourself out of the warmth of you bed and into your unnaturally cold bathroom, your body fatigued and zombie like as you dragged yourself to the sink and began to brush your teeth. After brushing your teeth you looked into the mirror, your hair messy and skin red as you lightly dampened your face with cold water to help you wake up enough to at least make it from your bedroom and into the kitchen. After staring at yourself for another minute or so you shrugged in defeat, your feet barley making a noise against the wooden floor as you walked down the hall and into the brightly lit kitchen.

“Good morning!” A voice chirped upon your arrival, the smell of bacon wafting through the air and into your nostrils as you staggered further into the room. You took in a deep breath, the beautifully delicious smell of breakfast making its way into your body and slightly waking you up. You let out a sigh of content before slowly making your way toward the welcoming voice, the familiar image of your boyfriend, Jongin, standing in front of the stove making its way into your sight.

“Morning.” You yawned, leaning against the island behind him.

“I can’t believe your up already. I thought I was going to have to come and drag you out of bed again.” Jongin teased, turning around momentarily to give you a playful wink and a small smile.

“That was one time!” You defended, slightly pouting your lips as a red blush made its way onto your cheeks. 

“More like 3, but who’s counting?” He asked, a small chuckle in his voice as he continued focusing on the ingredients in front of him. You gave Jongin a small scoff and swiftly made your way forward, your shoulders rubbing against his as you attempted to peek over top of them to see what he was making. 

“It’s a surprise!” Jongin said suddenly, somehow managing to block your view of the stove with his muscular body.

“A surprise?” You questioned excitedly, quickly making your way onto your tip toes to see what he was trying to hide. “Why a surprise? I’m going to be eating it in a few minutes either way.”

“Because,” He stated, quickly covering the pan in front of him with aluminum foil before popping it into the oven and setting the timer. “It’s a surprise.”

“Good reason. Why did I even ask?” You acknowledged sarcastically, your figure leaning against the island once again as tiredness slowly began to leave your body. 

“Beats me.” Jongin replied, giving you a small shrug as if he really didn’t know. “Maybe it’s because of your incredibly impatient nature.”

“I am not impatient!” 

“Oh, really? You sure about that Miss ‘I’m going to take these brownies out 10 minutes early because I’m hungry and what’s 10 minutes really going to do?’ or Miss ‘Why take time to wait for the cake to cool for you to ice it when you could just dip the cake into it when your eating it?’”

You stood still with your arms crossed, not really knowing how to reply to the painfully true statements. Jongin laughed, the defeated look on your face all the proof he needed as he slowly made his way closer to you. You gave him a small scowl, your pink lips curling up playfully as his warm hand reached out and removed your arms from in front of your chest before placing them on his.

“It’s okay though, Jagi-yah.” He whispered playfully, his hands reaching down to grip your waist before pulling you toward him. “I think I know how to kill time.”

That’s when, all of a sudden and without any warning, Jongin pressed his lips against yours, the simple but quick action immediately taking your breath away. The kiss was slow at first, the deep flavor of his mocha coffee heavy against your lips. He pressed against you softly, the kiss kind and careful as his velvety skin grazed against yours. 

You leaned into him impulsively, your body trembling as his hands diligently cupped your face. That’s when he decided to go a little bit further, his tongue softly touching your bottom lip before he let out a deep moan, you nails lightly digging into his cloth covered waist. His hands left your face next, slowly traveling down to either side of you and trapping you against the island. Then, unsurprisingly, he quickly began to tease you, his hot tongue immediately leaving your lips anytime you opened your mouth in permission.

You let out a small whine, the want and need for his tongue against yours driving you crazy. He gave you a small laugh in return instead, the vibration racking against your body as you willed him closer to you. Your fingernails pressed into his sides again, a small growl leaving his lips and making you shutter. Then, before you knew it, you no longer in front of the island. You were on top of it.

Taking this as an opportunity, you quickly wrapped your pajama covered legs around his waist, pulling him as close to you as you possibly could. He let out a sigh of content, slowly licking his way into your mouth and finally letting his tongue meet yours as he kissed you passionately.

You felt hypnotized, your hands quickly going up and tangling with his luscious locks. He smiled into the kiss and pressed his pelvis against yours, the happiness that both of you were radiating beaming through the room and making your once tired and fatigued figure tremble in delight. 

After a few more minutes of kissing you pulled away, the random and out of nowhere makeout session taking you by surprise and turning you into a mess. Jongin gave you a small smirk, his lips barley an inch away from yours as he teasingly hovered over you.

“What was that for?” You asked breathlessly, your heart beating so hard and so fast that you could barley hear anything over top of it. 

“I told you. It was to help distract you from your excessive impatientness.” He laughed slyly, his noise rubbing against yours before he leaned away and pointed to the almost ready to beep timer on the stove. “Which I did.” 

You looked at the clock in surprise, the last 15 seconds of the original 10 minutes quickly going down. You looked up at Jongin, your mouth agape but no words coming out as shock took over your entire body. Had you really been making out for that long? It seemed like minutes, seconds even, and there was no doubt in saying that you definitely weren’t ready to stop. 

“Time to eat! I made your favorite! Coffee Cake!” Jongin said suddenly, his lips curling into a knowing smile as he grabbed a oven mitt and pulled the pan out.

“But Jongin I…” You trailed off, not wanting to straight out tell Jongin that you were sad that he stopped kissing you.

“What, Y/N?” He smirked, eyes boring into yours as he removed the oven mitt. “Don’t you want to eat?”

“Yeah, but you…you can’t just do something like that and then stop…”

“And why’s that?” He asked, teasingly making his way closer to you.

You looked at Jongin, a small blush making its way onto your cheeks as you desperately tried to hide the impatient nature that both of you knew you had. “Because…you just can’t do that to someone.”

“Why? I’m totally fine.” He edged on playfully, his hands barley touching your waist as he continued to tease you.

“Dammit, Jongin! I’m impatient and irritable and I just want to keep kissing you, okay?!” You said suddenly, all sense of self control gone as your irritable self added onto the annoyance of Jongin teasing you made you want to explode. Jongin quickly gave you a satisfied look, his eyes forming a smile of their own as his lips shaped into a small smirk. 

“See, was that so hard?” Jongin asked, suddenly gripping your waist and placing you back onto the counter. 

“Yeah, yeah. You were right, I was wrong. Just kiss me, you jerk.” You said, quickly pulling Jongin towards you before he had a chance to say anything else, the beautifully made coffee cake that he had worked so hard on sitting in the background, completely, 100% forgotten. 

anonymous asked:

U LOOK SO GOOD BLONDE IM SCREAMING I WANNA GO BLONDE NOW TOO?! How'd u do it urself ?! U LOOK SO GOOD

I got my friend to help me bc I cannot reach the back of my head LMAOSJDODJ I used L'Oréal quickblue bleach and developer 30 from a local beauty supply store. I went layer by layer of hair to make sure I didn’t miss a spot and always bleach your roots last bc they always bkeCh faster for some reason. I covered it in aluminum foil and toned my hair after with wells t18 toner and developer 20!!! Also I am not a professional so you probably should do some research before attempting sijdidneksj

super chill and casual guy ronan lynch sent super chill and casual genius boy adam parrish to find some aluminum foil somewhere in the bedrooms area of his house in a super chill and casual and definitely sensible moment in their super chill and casual friendship and their super chill and casual friends and ronan’s super chill and casual brothers didn’t speak up once about it

tarisians  asked:

really generic request but. kirk being protective over spock is my weakness so i would love some of that (": i am weak. preferably with no porn.

Situation: A transporter malfunction strips Spock’s Vulcan DNA and he rematerializes completely as human. Now he needs to cope with the fact that he’s become what he fought his whole life to escape. Written to the piano version of Calling to the Night from MGS.

~

The door slid open and bright light from the hallway bled into the darkness within. Silence and stillness greeted Jim and there was nothing more until he finally stepped forward, looked around, and gently asked, “Spock?”

The usage of that name—a Vulcan name—sounded almost venomous and Spock inwardly cringed. Finding he had nothing to say, his lips remained closed and he made no effort to leave where his feet had cemented themselves.

There seemed to be no reason to turn away from the transparent aluminum window he’d been staring out of for…some time. Time was something Spock no longer knew how to estimate. In fact, he had no idea what the ship’s chronometer would read at the present; it was only one of many unsettling truths weighing down on his very troubled mind now.

The door swished shut and Jim began, “Computer, lights at—”

“Please,” Spock said harshly over a breath, and then lowered his head. His eyes closed as he took a moment to collect himself. “I prefer it dark.”

“Of course.” Jim’s tone was tender and he raised its volume only to release the computer from waiting for his order. Slowly, he moved through the space barely illuminated by the lights installed on the ship’s hull. He raised his left hand, its pliant muscles causing his fingers to separate naturally; however, just before they made contact with Spock’s arm, Jim stopped himself.

Keep reading

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A little Sousa fanfiction for the evening

Disregarding accepted timelines (I am no expert), I thought it would be really fun if Peggy was the one to recruit Daniel to the SSR.  This isn’t finished, but it kind of has an ending.


All he could remember was a blinding explosion, and then pain. Overwhelming, excruciating pain in his leg.  There weren’t supposed to be mines there.  They had scouted.  He had scouted, and he had never been wrong before. He woke up in a gurney in the field hospital.  It was loud. People were screaming, moaning, crying out in pain and agony.  He wasn’t. Why wasn’t he?  The pain was so terrible, but he couldn’t make a sound. He looked down.  Where there should have been a leg, there was a bloody mess of shredded flesh, mixed with the grey of his uniform, stained black with his own blood.  He remembered thinking that he was going to die, that he couldn’t survive this.  That even if he didn’t bleed out in this bed, the field hospital would be bombed, or his ride home would be shot down or blown out of the water—something would kill him, because he could not live like this.

But he did survive.  He lost his leg, but he survived.  He wasn’t able to go home immediately.  He was sent to rehabilitate in a hospital, to relearn how to walk.  They gave him a new leg and a crutch.  The prosthetic didn’t fit well and was a poor excuse for his missing leg.  It would often slide so that he walked on it diagonally.  They told him that this was as good as it was going to get.  That he would never be the man he was.  Though it angered him, he knew they were right.

 Daniel Sousa stared at the envelope in his hands.  In dark red ink, it read, “STRATEGIC SCIENTIFIC RESERVE.”  It had been delivered to his home before he had even arrived, having spent the last few years of his life in Europe in the war.  When he had volunteered those years ago, he hadn’t known if he would even come back.  It never occurred to him that he would come back like this, with a prosthetic.  He thought bitterly about the shiny aluminum crutch leaning against his dresser.  That piece of metal was the reason he got stares in the streets, why he couldn’t walk into a diner without a round of applause, why the only looks he got from women were full of pity.  Pity.  He didn’t need any more of that.  He had enough for himself.  He stopped himself, like he always did when these dark thoughts flooded to the forefront.  He was lucky he came home at all.  So many hadn’t.

Daniel had signed up partly because he had wanted to serve, but also because he had wanted to escape the path that life had presented for him: a lifetime of hard labor in some godforsaken factory.  That had been his father’s fate, and it wouldn’t be his.  But as it happened, his father had gotten lucky during the war.  While Daniel was overseas, his father had managed to save enough to get away from Mulberry Street.  Though his father was Portuguese-American, Daniel had been raised closer to his mother’s Italian-American roots.  When she died, his had wanted nothing more than to get away from that place.  All it was was a constant reminder of his dead wife.  With what Daniel had earned overseas, he was able to afford a small apartment in a neighborhood where he didn’t have to worry about getting mugged.  It was also conveniently close to this SSR office.  If he hadn’t been crippled, it would have been a quick walk.  As it was, he would be taking the train.

That is, if he took the job.  He wasn’t sure yet.  They were sending some representative over to try and convince him.  It was the only reason he had gotten out of bed.  He wondered what the man would say, what perks he would be promised.  Daniel wasn’t sure why they wanted him in the first place.  He had been in reconnaissance.  Sure, he had disarmed a few bombs, but what did the government need that for?  He wondered if this Dooley man would come see him himself, or if he would send some flunky to do his recruiting.

He grabbed his watch, which was laying on the bedside table, and checked the time.  Nine in the morning.  The rep would be there soon.  He wasn’t going to put on a tie or a suit jacket.  Why bother?  He wasn’t worried about making a good impression.  If they didn’t like the way he looked, so what?  He knew the man would only be looking at one thing: his leg. He grabbed his prosthetic suddenly. A sharp pain was coming from where his leg used to be.  Massaging the prosthetic gave him no relief, but it was a force of habit.  It would eventually go away on its own.

Daniel was just strapping on his watch when he heard the knock at the door.  "Coming!“ he shouted.  He pushed himself up with great difficulty.  Standing up was still a chore.  He hobbled through the tiny apartment.  He was thankful it was so small, since walking was also a chore.  "Give me a minute!”  He grabbed any piece of furniture–a table, a desk, a chair–to steady himself as he made his way to the door.  He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.  He looked terrible.  His hair was mussed up, his shirt wrinkled.  Had he slept in it?  He tried to tame his hair and smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt.  Unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything about the circles under his eyes.  He exhaled, dismissing the thoughts.  He didn’t know if he wanted this job anyway.

He unlocked the deadbolts and the doorknob, and opened the door.  The person was turned the other way.  He glanced down and saw heels, nylons, a dress.  This wasn’t any SSR representative.  "Sorry, ma'am, I think you got the wrong place,“ he said, starting to close the door.

She turned around at that moment, and grabbed the door with one hand, stopping him.  In seconds, she had swept into the apartment.  "Nonsense.  You are Daniel Sousa, correct?”  Her voice rang out with a crisp English accent.

After a moment, he replied slowly, “Yes…”

“Smashing,” she said, hanging up her hat and coat by the door.  "Let’s get to it, shall we?“

He closed the door slowly, locking it again.  Now he wished he had grabbed his jacket from the closet.  "Uh, can I get you something…?” he fished.

“Agent Carter,” she said firmly.  He was shocked.  The government didn’t normally send women for this kind of thing.  Was her job to butter him up, proposition him so that he’d join?  How desperate were they to recruit him?  It didn’t make sense.

“Agent Carter,” he repeated.  "Um, I could put some coffee on.“  That was stupid–he didn’t have any coffee.  "That is, uh, if I had any.”  She was very pretty, and he was finding that very distracting.  She had sat down at the table and pulled out several files from her briefcase.  He ran a hand through his messy hair, shifting his weight onto the crutch.  "I’m sorry, you aren’t exactly what I was expecting.“

"No, I suppose not,” she said, frowning.  “I often do this sort of recruiting, so I assure you, it’s not out of the ordinary in the slightest.”

He made his way to the opposite chair, lowering himself slowly.  He noticed she didn’t take her eyes off of him.  And when he saw her gaze flick down to his leg, he adjusted the prosthetic.  "Bet they didn’t tell you about this?“  He smirked.  "Got a little more than I bargained for overseas.”

Agent Carter smiled and said matter-of-factly, “The SSR is well aware of your physical limitations, Mr Sousa.  We don’t see that as inhibiting your ability to perform in this position.”  He furrowed his brow.  What was this Carter woman up to?  She was looking at him differently.  He felt like she didn’t see the crutch, even though he knew she had.  There was no pity in her eyes or in her voice.  "The SSR has read your files.  You come very highly recommended.“  She glanced down at one of the files.  "You specialize in disarming explosives.  Is that right?”

“I did,” he said, folding his arms.  "Until this happened.“

She set the file down and folded her hands on the table.  "Mr Sousa, have I not made it clear to you that we do not care how many legs you have?  We consider you an asset, particularly your deductive reasoning skills.  We think…you would make a good agent.”

He was trying to be hard, cold and calculating.  But she was gorgeous.  Her brown eyes were bright under long dark lashes, and her full lips were painted a bright shade of red.  And the way her hair fell in delicate waves over her shoulders.  He blinked, trying to focus.  This would have been easier if they had sent a man.  "And what do I get out of this?  I could get a job anywhere.  Why should I come work for you?“

Agent Carter pursed her lips, sitting back in the chair.  "Mr Sousa, I said the SSR couldn’t care less about your prosthetic.  The rest of the world does, I’m afraid.  You are unlikely to get hired in this line of work if you refuse our offer.”

“And what line of work is that, exactly?” he pressed on.

“Well, solving crimes, of course,” she said.  "Not on the scale you’re thinking of, though.  You’re familiar with Captain Steve Rogers and his missions in Europe?“

His eyes widened.  "Of course!  He even got my unit out of a bind.”

“Then you know the kind of villainous individuals he was fighting,” she said, her tone hushed.  He nodded.  "We are here to protect American citizens from that kind of evil.  The kind of evil HYDRA brought to the world.“

“Wait a minute, you’re that Agent Carter!” he exclaimed. “The one who—”

“Fought alongside Captain Rogers, yes, that’s me,” she interrupted.  She frowned.  “We’re not talking about me right now.  We’re talking about you.”  She paused.  "Is that something you’d like to be a part of, Mr Sousa? Fighting evil?”

“W-well,” he stuttered.  "Can I have some time to think?“

"Of course.”  She looked at her watch.  "How much time do you need?  I’ve got a good hour before I need to be back in the office.“

He shook his head, smiling.  "I was thinking maybe a day or two?”

She quickly stood up, gathering up her files.  "If you’re not interested, we have other qualified candidates who would jump at this opportunity.  Not as skilled, perhaps, but I’m not about to be led on–“

"Wait, wait!”  Daniel pulled himself up, catching her sleeve, as she reached for her coat.  "I’m not going to lead anyone on, least of all you, Miss…"

“Peggy.”

“Peggy,” he repeated.  He liked the sound of it, and the feeling of saying it aloud.  "Daniel.“  He took her hand.  "Pleased to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.”  She gave him a warm smile and he felt his good knee go weak.  "You’ll start on Monday.  The address is in the letter.“  She paused.  "Now, something to celebrate.  She threw her briefcase on the table and pulled out a bottle of whiskey.  At his bemused look, she said, "I never leave home without it.  Glasses?” she said, stepping towards the kitchen.

“By the icebox,” he said, sitting again.  He couldn’t help but stare while she reached for the glasses, and her dress lifted a little, exposing a little more of her long legs.  He looked away quickly when she turned, glasses in hand.  "Is this really standard procedure?“ he asked.

"It’s certainly my standard procedure,” she said, smirking.  "It’ll be our little secret.“  She took a long drink and he watched.  He had overindulged when he had come back, and he didn’t like the effect it had on him.  He wasn’t quite ready to test it out again.  She paused and licked her lips.  "How long have you been back?”

“A couple months,” he said, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze.  "Still haven’t gotten the hang of this.“  He gestured to his leg.

She smiled sadly. "It takes time, I’d imagine.”  Peggy set her empty glass down.  "You’ve no wife to look after you?  No girlfriend?“

He laughed and there was a tinge of bitterness.  "Yeah, the women haven’t exactly been running at me since I’ve been back.  I’d be lucky if I could trick a nurse into marrying me.”  He had meant it as a joke, but somehow it came out bitter and cold.  He glanced at her, and then thought better.  "Sorry, I…I haven’t really been myself lately.“

“Don’t apologize,” she said.  “You’ve been through a lot.  The important thing is you’re here now,” she said, rising.  “And I’m pleased you’ve agreed to join the SSR, Daniel. Truly.”  She stood by the door, holding her briefcase, giving him another knee-weakening smile.  As he looked back at her, he wondered if he had accepted the position to move on with his life or to get to know her better.  He wasn’t sure.  But he did want to spend more time with Peggy.

"Well, I’ve taken up more than enough of your time,” Peggy said.  She threw on her coat and was putting her hat back on when she said, “See you on Monday, then?”

“I’ll be there.”  He followed her to the door.  "Before you go.“  She turned to face him.  "The SSR…they don’t want me to run tests on or anything, do they?”

Peggy laughed.  "Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel!  We’re the good guys.“  She flashed him another smile and was out the door.  He watched her go, letting a smile creep onto his lips, before disappearing back into the apartment.