and he likes coconuts

okay can we just talk about this scene here

JUST THIS ONE FUCKING SCREENSHOT THERE IS SO MUCH HAPPENING. SO MUCH HAPPENING IN ONE PICTURE. OKAY LET’S BREAK IT DOWN

YURIO IS SO ANGRY HERE. SO ANGRY AND SO DISHEVELED. IS HE ANGRY THAT HE IS DISHEVELED. IS HE ANGRY THAT YUURI IS GRINDIN ALL OVER VIKTOR’S ASS RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM N IT’S GROSS FOR OUR SMOL CHILD TO SEE. IS HE ANGRY BECAUSE VIKTOR MADE HIM THAT PROMISE AND NO DRUNK ASS KATSUDON IS GONNA TAKE THAT AWAY FROM HIM, ESP WITH A TIE AROUND HIS HEAD AND PANTS LONG GONE

CHRIS IS LIKE THE EXACT OPPOSITE??? like he can’t be disheveled bc he got absolutely no clothes on, none at all. aND HE IS FUCKING HAPPY. AND PROBABLY INTRIGUED BY THIS SKATER WHO IS APPARENTLY BOMB AT POLE DANCING. ((also lookit that blush chris probably came all over the pole like srsly chris why u gotta make everything all slippery)) but like. look at that smile. those lips making the o face like ‘oooo dis boi he gooood’ chris u are too sexual for your life

AND HERE IS OUR POOR, PURE, SWEET KATSUDON FATALE who is apparently now more noodle than katsudon hE BE ROLLING AND GRINDING HIMSELF ALL OVER VIKTORS ASS (im kidding that’s viktor’s crotch, u do u yuuri) and honestly can we get yuuri drunk in every party just so we can see Noodle!Yuuri and Angry-and-Disheveled!Yurio please PLEASE

and finally we have the most normal expression of all, the expression of the living legend five-time world champion skater viktor nikiforov who is also coincidentally being climbed like a coconut tree right this moment. HOW IS HE SO CALM. IT’S LIKE HE’S USED TO THIS HAPPENING, IT JUST SO HAPPENS THAT THE GUY DOING IT THIS TIME IS ACTUALLY RLY CUTE????? HE’S NOT FREAKING OUT NOPE NOT AT ALL. VITYA’S EXPRESSION IS LITERALLY JUST LIKE “o hello there may i help u” 

but also consider this is right after their dance off so maybe more like “o hello there may we get married right now if ur not too busy grindin on me”

and, well, to wrap this up. we have these poor, innocent bystanders

In summary, they didn’t ask for this but we totally did

i think i got carried away but srsly guys this goddamn screenshot idk i’m sure there are a ton more scenes like this but drunk!yuuri causes the best incidents

2

Mr. Monster, Goldendoodle (8 m/o), Union Square, New York, NY • “He loves water – if there’s a water bowl he’ll stick his whole face in and blow bubbles. He’ll also follow me into the shower and just sit right under the shower head. Earlier today he smelled like my coconut shampoo because I lathered him up.” @mr.monsterpup

How I imagine their hair

2D:
- p soft
- fairly thicc
- tangles easily
- smells a lil bit like weed

Murdoc:
- g r e a s y
- he hasn’t washed it in 19472935 years
- reeks of cigarette smoke
- so many split ends

Noodle:
- clean
-soft
- perfect to play with
- tickles a lil
- smells like strawberries

Russel:
- he bald :(
- his head shiny tho
- real smoove
- coconut scent maybe?

Leave A Message: Betty Cooper x Jughead Jones

Summary: AU, After a night of heavy drinking, Betty Cooper realizes she’s left a series of revealing messages on her crush and roommate, Jughead Jones’s phone. 

Words: 1,600

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, swearing, sexual dialogue but mostly embarrassing fluff. 

A/N: I’ve edited this myself so I apologize for errors. 


Betty Cooper’s head was pounding. She had made the mistake of going out with her roommates Cheryl Blossom and Veronica Lodge to celebrate the end of finals. Now she was sitting at their kitchen island cradling a cup of coffee, trying to figure out if IHOP delivered.

“Good Morning!” Cheryl sang as she skipped into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Her luscious red was piled up on top of her head and her skin was glowing. She looked like an angel not someone who had partied hard the night before. “How are you?” She asked Betty.

“I’m so hungover” Betty groaned resting her head on her arms. “I’ve never been this hungover.”

“Yeah, you really shouldn’t have done all those shots of Liquid Cocaine.” Cheryl chuckled and began taking out a few frying pans. “You want some bacon and eggs?” She asked.

“I do!” Veronica answered, her silk black robe trailing behind her matching her beautiful black hair. She walked up to Cheryl and gave her a soft kiss. Cheryl and Veronica had been dating since before they had left Riverdale and their relationship was goals.

“How are you guys not hungover?” Betty asked.

“We didn’t do three shots of tequila and then perform a Coyote Ugly style dance on the bar. You drank so much you should be dead.” Veronica informed.

“I wish I was dead.” Betty said sliding off her stool and laid on the floor. “The tile is so cold. I love the tile.”

“You’ve seen better days, Cooper.” Jughead Jones exited his bedroom from the other side of the loft and sat in the stool Betty just occupied. Jughead was Betty’s fourth and final roommate and she had developed a deep crush on him since the four of  them had moved from Massachusetts to California for school.  

Jughead had blossomed in the sunshine state. He had taken up surfing and gotten a tan, transforming himself into a ripped golden god. Whatever girls didn’t like about his moodiness in Riverdale, they loved here. Betty hated that she didn’t make a move sooner and now that he was bedding Californian goddesses, she knew she didn’t stand a chance.

“Oh god.” She muttered rolling onto her back. She was so dehydrated she could hear herself blinking. She focused on Jughead messy mop of black hair when he appeared above her.

“Up we go.” He said lifting her into the sitting position. “Take these,” he dropped two extra strength Advil in her palm. “And drink the entire glass.” He instructed.

She did as she was told and steadied herself against him when she stood up. “I need to go back to sleep.”

“Yes, you do.” Jughead agreed walking her back to her room. “Do you need to use the washroom?” He asked.

“I’m not a child, Jug.” Betty snapped.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you not just rolling around on the floor moaning?” He cocked an eyebrow and helped her into bed. She got underneath the covers and he tucked her in. “Get more rest, you’re gonna need it.” He winked and left her room, closing her door.

Her brow furrowed at her choice of words but she was too tired to give it much more thought than that.

She woke up at 3 in the afternoon feeling much better. Still hungover but manageable. She stumbled out into the living room and found Jughead reading a book. “There she is!” He exclaimed. “I got more Advil out and grabbed some water. There is some left over Thai from lunch in he fridge if you are hungry.”

Betty grabbed the Advil, headed over to the kitchen and began heating up her food. Once the Thai was nice and hot she made way back over to the couch.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked not looking up from his book.

“Mmmm” She answered with a mouth full of food.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” He questioned.

She shook her head. “Not really.”

“So you don’t remember dancing on the bar?” He inquired.

She shook her head.

“You don’t remember leading the whole bar in a rendition of ‘Come On Eileen’?”

“How do you know this? You weren’t even there”

“Cheryl was sending me videos.” He paused. “Do you remember making a phone call?”

“It’s 2018, Juggie, no one makes phone calls anymore.” She rolled her eyes and took a gulp of her water.

“You sure about that?” He asked again.

“I haven’t spoken on a phone in like two years.”

Jughead took out his cell, began scrolling and finally pushed a button. He held it up so they could both hear it.

“Jughead, mother fucking, Jones.” Betty’s gravelly drunken voice rasped out of the phone.

Her eyes widened and she started choking on her food.

“You fucking idiot with your stupid hat and your stupid attitude and your stupid face like you don’t know how amazing you are. Well, I guess you kinda do now with that revolving bevy of girls in our apartment all the time. And what is wrong with me huh? I’m hot, I’ve had six guys hit on me tonight. Six!”

She heard herself yell through the phone and she buried her head in her arms. “No, no, no.” She repeated over and over again.

“I’m smart too and my personality is okay, so what’s your problem Jughead, huh? I’ve been told that my vagina is like, the actual best. Like, what do I need to do? I guess there is a possibility that you aren’t interested in me but I’m the tits so why wouldn’t you be.” She paused. “Another thing, you actual piece of shit-” She was cut off and he lowered the phone.

“Please tell me I didn’t call you back.” She asked, looking at him through her fingers.

He was smirking and she wanted to smack him. “That was the first of fifteen messages. My favorite was how you told me that you obsess over how big my penis is but it’s probably just normal size and that you should stop worrying about it because this isn’t a romance novel.” He chuckled.

She made a whiny, crying sound, her face burning hot.

He didn’t say anything like she expected. She expected him to tease her, she expected him to tell her that they were friends but their relationship wouldn’t be anything more than that but he didn’t. She felt his weight on the couch beside her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“Would it made a difference if I did?”

“Uh, yeah, kind of a big difference, do you know how you appear to others? Do you know how intimidating you are?” His voice was soft and sincere.

“What are you talking about?” She snapped, rubbing her temples.

“You’re beautiful, smart and funny. You make everything seem so effortless, you should date an architect or something.”

“Why is everyone so obsessed with architects?” She moaned, falling back into the cushions of the sofa.

Jughead sighed. “Betty, did you ever think about just asking me out?”

She threw him some serious side eye. “Oh yeah Jug, I’ll just walk up to you and be like, ‘Hey, I know we’ve known each other forever and I’ve ignored you for most of it but now that you’re all hot and dating models and shit, you wanna go out on a date?’” She scoffed.

“Okay.” He replied.

“What?” She sat up quickly, wincing when he head throbbed.

“I’ll go out with you.”

“Why? You date hipster girls who wear glasses they don’t need and are way too big for their face. You date girls who always look good in a romper, always have perfect Coachella hair and eat avocado toast everyday. I go days without showering, I’ve slept in the library more than once, I’ve dropped a McDonalds hamburger on the ground and still ate it because I had spent my last dollar on it and it was all I could eat for 17 hours until I got paid. Last night I threw up in my hamper-”

Jughead cut her off with a kiss. Betty was taken aback by the sudden gesture and it took her body a moment to relax and really accept what was happening. Betty had fantasized about this moment every night for months. What he would smell like, what he was taste like, how he would feel. He tasted like the cinnamon tic tacs he was always eating, spicy and sweet. He smelled like clean laundry, the sea and coconuts from using the girls shampoo all the time. Betty ran her hands through his hair bringing him closer to her. His body was hard and muscular and he pushed it against her, his skin warm and tan and so different from what she expected.

He parted from her, a smile on his face. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

“Liar.” Betty whispered, her eyes still closed.

“Betty, I’ve had a thing for your since the ninth grade.” He admitted, kissing her again.

“Do you want to take this into the bedroom?” She cooed running her hands over his chest.

“No, Bets.”

Her head jerked back. “What? Why? You take all these girls to bed and not me?”

“Betty, you aren’t all girls, you’re the girl.” He smiled and kissed her again.

She smiled back. “Can you please, for the love of god, delete all the messages I left you.”

“Um, absolutely not, this shit belongs in the MOMA.” He took out his phone. “Prepare yourself for message number two.”

anonymous asked:

So, in fandom, it's generally agreed upon that the reactor uses vibranium, right? And it tastes like coconut. Do you think if you licked the shield it would taste like coconut? Like, when Steve was still in the army he used the shield as a cooking bowl and inexplicably, everything kinda tasted like coconut. They both kinda smell like coconut, Steve from constantly handling he shield and everything thinks they're sharing cologne. What the hell even is vibranium. Wth. (Tree)

OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH THANK U FOR BLESSING ME WITH THIS.


No but I bet Natasha would be so confused at first. Because I mean, she’s the only one on the team who had met both of them before they’d all assembled to kick ass, so of course she’s sort of filed away their particular smells. Obviously, Tony first- it had been a mix of coffee and metal when she’d first met him, and then when she found him again at the expo, she had curiously smelt something new on him. 

Coconut.

Of course, she’d discarded it. New aftershave, shampoo, cologne, whatever- it didn’t matter. Smells weren’t particularly important in the world of espionage anyway.


Until she met Steve Rogers, that was.


Stepping off the plane, hair neat as anything, clothes old-fashioned and looking a little puzzled at his surroundings, he had stepped forward to shake Natasha’s hand and-

Coconut.

It was almost funny, how wide her eyes went. Because that wasn’t just the generic smell that came with SHIELD shampoo- it was pretty potent, tangy, and authentic.

It was also exactly the same smell she’d noticed on Tony Stark.

Which was impossible. Had to be. They’d been monitoring Steve, watching his interactions and movements in the real world to see how he had been coping, they would have noticed if Tony Goddamn Stark had-


Except they wouldn’t. Not really. That guy owned 80% of all their surveillance- if he wanted to sneak around under SHIELD’s nose, then he would damn well sneak around under SHEILD’s nose.


Holy shit.


She had to hand it to him, Stark moved in fast. And the forties boy, too? That was impressive work, if they were already at the stage where they shared goddamn cologne, it had to have been a love-at-first-sight sort of thing-

“Miss Romanov?” Rogers asked her, a little confused, looking at the hand Natasha was still clutching as she stared at him unashamedly.

“…Boy. I gotta ask Stark how he fucking does that,” she muttered, letting go of his hand and then gesturing for him to follow.


(Of course, when they actually did meet, she was, admittedly, incredibly confused. It was only months later when she realised the correlation, as Tony was refitting himself with a new core and muttering about how it felt like chewing directly on a coconut skin. She had full-on leapt into the air, pointing accusingly at his reactor and yelling about how she’d thought Steve and Tony had been hate-fucking for months because of that damned smell.

Neither of them ever let her live it down. That had been the one time they’d ever managed to successfully trick her, if unknowingly, and they didn’t intend to let her forget it.)

College Boy Part Three

Prompt: Harry wants a shot at a normal life so he attends Northeastern University, but it’s harder than he thinks. The friends he made just want fame, and the other hardly look at him. But then he meets her, Y/N, and she wants nothing to do with the a-list celebrity.

Word Count: 5532

Pairing: Y/N and Harry

You can find part one and part two below :)

Part One Part Two


Y/N was never great at opening up to anyone-not even her family. She had learned to keep to herself, that way no one could leave her, no one could take a spot in her heart only to rip it away later. All through middle school and high school she had no friends, no birthday parties, no graduation party, no sleepovers, no late night drives with anyone. At first she was upset, and she started to open up in high school, but she quickly stops when she couldn’t make any friends. It was too late, she was labeled as the weird one, the only friends she had were on Facebook.

When college first begin she promised herself it would be different, that she would try to make friends, and she did, she tried. The first week she found a nice group of people, but as the month went on she found the group chat dying and none of them ever spoke again. They waved, they smiled at each other, but none of them responded to her texts, and no one bothered to ask her to hang out. Her roommate was different, the two never bonded. Jessica went out with her friends, and when she had friends over none of them ever spoke to her. Y/N slowly learned that she was invisible, but she wasn’t invisible to him.

Okay well, at first she was invisible to him. But when Harry noticed her, he couldn’t stop noticing her. Harry found himself going to the gym at the same time as her, he would run next to her, telling her about his day. Y/N would nod, hum every once and a while to let him know she heard him, but she never really talked back. Harry would ask her questions and she would answer them but other than that she never really spoke, keeping it short and simple, and he couldn’t tell if she was still upset with him.

Keep reading

softbrobucky  asked:

A belated Bucky birthday prompt: Steve's a waiter at a heavily themed restaurant (think Rainforest Cafe) and he's tired of people blatantly lying to get the over-the-top Free Birthday Dessert. It's Bucky's birthday and he wants his over-the-top Free Birthday Dessert. He may also want his cute waiter's phone number.

All of the dishes mentioned in this ficlet are actual dishes off of the Downtown Disney Rainforest Café menu.

— —

Steve Rogers has had it with these motherfucking college kids coming into motherfucking Rainfoest Café and ordering motherfucking free desserts when it’s not even their birthday. This happens at least once a shift, some group of giggling college first-years who don’t have good enough fakes to get into a bar, snorting as they say it’s Christie’s or Jeremy’s birthday and snapping pics on their cellphone as Steve brings out the Sparkling Volcano — a stack of mediocre brownies covered with vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, chocolate sauce and caramel with a motherfucking sparkler stuck on top. The Sparkling Volcano is a pain, the fact that these kids never calculate the $17 that the Sparkling Volcano costs into their tip is a pain, and capitalism? Yeah, that’s a pain, too.

So when this table of formerly well-behaved people start giggling and elbowing each other when Steve brings the dessert menu over, he knows it’s game over.

“Don’t do it,” says the hot guy who (somewhat inadvisably) ordered the Caribbean Coconut Fried Shrimp.

The woman who ordered the Tribal Salmon grins. “It’s his birthday,” she says.

“Oh man, she went there,” says Kale & Red Quinoa Salad with Chicken. He’s pretty cute, too.

“Shut up Sam,” says BBQ Bacon Cheeseburger.

“You’re all assholes,” Caribbean Coconut Fried Shrimp says. BBQ Bacon Cheeseburger giggles and nudges Kale & Red Quinoa Salad with Chicken. Kale & Red Quinoa Salad with Chicken rolls his eyes, but is smiling.

Steve hates them all.

“So, we’ll have one of those chocolate lava things.”

Steve — who is a good employee and a good person — does not sigh like he would like to. Instead he turns to Caribbean Coconut Fried Shrimp, plasters on a smile and says, “Happy birthday!” knowing in his heart of hearts that it is not, in fact, this guy’s birthday. The way that Caribbean Coconut Fried Shrimp kind of slumps in his chair only confirms this to Steve. He turns back to the rest of the table. “One Sparkling Volcano coming up. Can I interest you in something to go along with it? A Maya’s Mango Sorbet or a Raspberry Lemonade Freeze?” The ‘that you’ll actually pay for’ is implied.

“No, just the Sparkling Volcano,” Tribal Salmon says.

Steve feels the corner of his mouth twitch. “Alright. That’ll be just a few minutes.”

“Motherfuckers,” Steve mutters after he puts in the order for the cake. He had liked that table. They had seemed nice. He could’ve sworn that Caribbean Coconut Fried Shrimp had been checking him out.

Instead they’re making him bring a free hassle of a dessert. Fuck them.

He has enough time to check on two of his other tables before the Sparkling Volcano is up. He looks at the gloppy mess, says a little prayer, then lights the sparkler.

There’s an art to getting to the customer’s table with a lit Sparkling Volcano; it takes time and a certain grace. Steve isn’t quite proud of the fact that he’s been at Rainforest Café long enough to have mastered that art — this is still just a day job that he does to support himself while he makes actual art — but he does have the act down. He grins and he walks to the table, ready to sing the Rainforest Café non-patented birthday song.

And then BBQ Bacon Cheeseburger says, “Holy shit, that’s awesome. Let me get this on camera!”

The next few moments are kind of a blur. One second Steve is bending over to put the Sparkling Volcano down in front of the birthday boy, the next BBQ Bacon Cheeseburger is hopping up and into Steve. “FUCK,” Steve says as he loses his balance, eyes going wide as he falls back, sparkling dessert falling back onto him.

“Clint!” Someone shouts.

“FUCK,” Steve shouts again as the Sparkling Volcano lands on him. He grunts as the sparkler hits his skin — the neck, of all places — then quickly pushes it off of him. As the chocolate sauce extinguishes the flame, Steve just lets himself lay on the ground, neck throbbing. He notices that the “storm” has started and nearby electronic gorillas start pounding their chests and grunting as thunder cracks.

It feels appropriate.

He notices Caribbean Coconut Fried Shrimp get down on the ground next to him. “Jesus,” he says. “Just tell me,” Steve says, eyes feeling heavy. “Is today really your birthday?”

Caribbean Coconut Fried Shrimp looks down at him with his very blue eyes. “Yeah,” he says. “Why?”

“No reason,” Steve says, then passes out.

— —

Steve is sitting in the employee back room holding a cool washcloth to his neck when Caribbean Coconut Fried Shrimp walks in. “Hey there,” he says.

“Hi birthday boy,” Steve says. “Sorry I couldn’t sing to you.”

Caribbean Coconut Fried Shrimp smiles, a little sheepishly. “I told them not to order the stupid cake,” he says.

“I should tell you that it’s fine for something, but honestly? I really wish that they hadn’t.”

Caribbean Coconut Fried Shrimp barks out a laugh. “Sorry, sorry,” he says. “They thought they were being cute.” He kind of shuffles his feet, looks down. “It’s my first birthday since getting sober. They wanted to do something fun, so they gave me the choice between Rainforest Café and Chuck-E-Cheese. I chose Rainforest Café.”

Steve feels himself soften a little. “Sorry that it turned out this way.”

“Well,” Caribbean Coconut Fried Shrimp says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his peacoat and looking up at Steve, “it was going pretty good until my friend Clint knocked over the cute server I wanted to ask out.”

Steve blinks. “What?” he asks.

“God,” Caribbean Coconut Fried Shrimp says, running a hand through his dark hair. “I feel like such an ass, but if you wanted to maybe—“

“Yeah,” Steve interrupts. “I do.”

Caribbean Coconut Fried Shrimp drops his hand and looks at Steve, surprised. “Really?”

Steve shrugs. “Can’t be much worse than being burned by a free dessert.”

“I think Natasha left you a really nice tip.”

“Good,” Steve says. “Then maybe I can get you a decent dessert.”

Caribbean Coconut Shrimp grins. “Yeah?” he asks.

Steve nods. “I’m Steve,” he says.

“Bucky,” Caribbean Coconut Shrimp replies.

“Happy birthday, Bucky,” Steve says.

“Well,” Bucky responds, “it is now.”

Lance dropping casual observations about Keith is a pure and good thing.

They’re on a new planet and Lance is trying out the food at a local festival. He’s thankful for the green goop and Hunk has done wonders in experimenting with the flavor, but sometimes a guy needs a little more variety. Or at least something that tastes like coconut. He grabs some sort of kabob looking thing and takes a small bite. As soon as the flavor hits him, he’s bounding across the room waving the dish excitedly in Keith’s face shouting, “Dude you HAVE to try this, you’re gonna love it.”

It’s hot pink with green stripes an….fuzzy? Keith raises an eyebrow at the striped mammalian horror for a moment, then narrows his eyes at Lance. “It’s not going to turn me green or make me throw up is it?”

Lance rolls his eyes. “That was one time, get over it already. Nothing weird is going to happen, I just know you have a sweet tooth so I think you’ll like it.”

Keith is blindsided by the statement. How does Lance even know that? What the quiznak? He doesn’t realize he’s silently staring at Lance until the blue paladin is waving the food in his face once again. “Are you gonna try it or what?”

Keith brushes the surprise off; he’ll think about it later. “Um… yeah, sure. Stop trying to stab me in the face with it, jeez.”

Keith ends up eating 11 of the seussian skewers before they go back to the castle for the night.



“What are you nervous about?”

Keith’s posture stiffens. He didn’t even hear Lance enter the common room. “What makes you think I’m nervous?”

Lance climbs over the back of the couch to seat himself on it - because he can’t just be normal and walk around to sit like a normal person - before answering. “You’re staring off into space, ha, and messing with the Velcro on your gloves. You only do that when you’re nervous about something.”

“How do you even know that?!” The question tumbles out of Keith’s mouth without explicit permission.

Lance pulls his legs up to cross them and raises an eyebrow. “I pay attention, obviously.” He looks away before adding “So….what’s wrong.”

They talk for a while. It’s not a magic cure, but Keith doesn’t feel like the universe is completely falling apart afterwards. It’s…nice.

Pidge finds the t-shirt on one of their trips to the space mall. It says something along the lines of “Edge Lord” on it in an alien tongue and Pidge thought it was the most hilarious thing they had ever seen an immediately bought it. Keith wrinkles his nose at it, but leaves the room to pull it on anyways. He’s never really had a family, but Pidge is so much like a younger sibling and they looked so proud of the gift. He doesn’t want to let them down. So, he slips it on and marches back into the training deck, determined to not be embarrassed. Which meant that Lance had made his way into the room just before Keith returned, of course.

Lance actually does a double take before he’s consumed with laughter. Keith pouts. When the full body howling finally dies down to more of a giggle, Lance looks over at Pidge. “Is THAT the shirt you bought him?”

They grin, “Yup.”

“God bless you Pidge. I can’t believe you got him to wear it though, Keith hates the color orange.” There’s no time for Keith to wonder how it is that Lance became privy to that information because Lance gives him another look over and grins. “With good reason too. It’s definitely not your color dude.”

Keith immediately pulls the boot off of his left foot and chucks it at Lance’s head. He doesn’t actually throw it hard, but he also doesn’t miss. 

Hunk finds a shop that sells space candy on another trip to the space mall a few weeks after the t-shit incident. They look and taste like jelly beans and even come in a myriad of assorted colors. Everyone on the ship is basically obsessed with them. No one brings it up, but the space jellies, as lance loving calls them, remind everyone on the team of home. It’s bittersweet and Coran makes sure the kitchen is well stocked with them. 

It’s the middle of the night and Keith can’t sleep, so he drags himself to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Lo and behold, he notices a certain Cuban boy sitting on the counter tossing space jellies in the air and trying to catch them with his mouth. Lance’s antics are ridiculous, but they’re also kind of…. endearing? Keith shakes the thought from his head and rolls his eyes for good measure before making his way to the pantry. 

If it had been anyone else, there would have been at least three boxes left and a cold juice sitting there waiting for the taking. BUT it’s Keith, so that means the last box of space jellies is currently being consumed by Lance who rattles a half finished box and says, “Looking for these?”

When Keith turns to face him, Lance is grinning from ear to ear. It’s definitely not cute. “You took the last one.”

Lance’s smile doesn’t falter at Keith’s grumpy tone. “Sure did.”

Keith huffs and turns back to the pantry, resigns himself to grabbing a bag of little pea shaped things that taste like banana at first, but leave a burnt toast aftertaste. Pidge is obsessed with them, Keith doesn’t really get it but he needs something to snack on so he sits a the table and tears opens the bag.

A few minutes go by and the silence is only broken up by Lace humming a few bars of some song Keith has never heard before. He likes it though and he’ s almost tempted to ask Lance to hum it a little louder. But that’s weird. So he just stares at his pea things and occasionally places one in his mouth.

A box is suddenly placed in front of Keith as Lance slides onto the seat directly across from him smiling. “You like the black ones, right?” He says it with an air of confidence that only Lance possesses but there’s some sort of undertone to it that Keith can’t quite identify. Fondness maybe?

Keith shifts his gaze from the boy in front of him back down to the box of space jellies. There are quite a few of Keith’s preferred jellies in there and it almost seems like Lance had planned on saving all of them for Keith before he even came into the kitchen. Keith pushes the thought away and looks back up at Lance to mutter a thank you. When Lance smiles this time it’s blinding and genuine. Keith has to avert his gaze yet again, because when Lance gives him that specific brand of smile… his heart starts to do weird things.

The humming starts again and when Keith is done with his jellies they clean up and Lance walks him to his room. The “Goodnight” Lace utters before heading to his room is accompanied with a small wave and a soft smile. Keith falls back to sleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

They’re sitting side by side on the floor of the bridge staring upwards at the holographic image of Earth’s sun and all of the stars surrounding it. It doesn’t happen every night, not that there’s really a night or a day in space, either way they should both be asleep at these time none the less, but it’s not uncommon for one of them to find the other sitting by a window looking out at the endless space that surrounds them at all times now.

Sometimes they just sit together in comfortable silence. Sometimes they make up stupid constellations to make one another laugh. Occasionally they’ll both lay down next to each other as they look out a window at an unfamiliar planet and talk about all kinds of things in muted tones. 

Tonight though, there was something about the look in Lance’s eyes that made Keith take him by the wrist and lead him to the bridge to look at the familiar stars they’d both grown up staring at. 

Keith smiles as he points to another cluster and says, “That’s Lyra.”

Lace looks up. “It’s small.”

“Yep.” The red paladin nods. “It’s the 52nd constellation in order from largest to smallest, but Vega is part of the constellation and that’s the fifth brightest star in Earth’ s night sky.”

Lance pulls his legs to his chest and rests his chin on his knees. “Isn’t there a myth behind it about a musician or something?”

“Yeah, Orpheus. The story is pretty sad actually.”

Lance spares Keith a glance paired with a smirk before looking back at the hologram. A half smile shouldn’t twist Keith’s stomach like that, but it does. “Greek mythology usually is Keith.” There’s a brief pause before Lance turns back to Keith again and asks “Will you tell me the story?” 

This time Lance doesn’t look away. His gaze is fixed on Keith and the expression he’s making and the tone of voice he’s using isn’t quite as unfamiliar to Keith anymore as it was four months back. In fact, he gives Keith that look every night they sit together under the stars, and sometimes throughout the day when he thinks no one is looking, or when he catches Keith laughing at one of his jokes. Lance looks at Keith like precious, like he’s the most beautiful thing in the universe and it never fails to make Keith’s mouth go dry or increase his heartrate.

“You don’t want to hear me ramble about some random Greek tragedy.” He can’t look away from those eyes. Who awarded Lance the right to have such perfect blue eyes? They’re the pools of water you land in when you’ve followed the river down the waterfall and Keith has never been a strong swimmer. It’s not fair.

“I do.” Lance sounds so sincere. Why does he have to sound like that? Why is his voice so soft and fond? Two syllables came out of that mouth. Simple words, three letters, one space between the first and the last two when written down, and they still manage to knock the breath from Keith’ s lungs. 

When it’s just him and Keith, Lance is different. The obnoxious jokes, and the issuing of lame little competitions between the two of them, and the occasional bickering are all still there even when they’re alone. Keith just feels like there’s something…extra. Like bonus content you only get when you’ve purchased the collector’s edition of a game or something. Lance’s edges get softer and he’s more honest about what he’s feeling when no one else is in the room. He’s  a little more sincere, more prone to being serious, and it’s stunning.

“Please? I like to hear your voice.” Keith still can’t manage to tear his eyes away from the boy sitting next to him, and he knows. He knows that he’s beat red. It’s so, so embarrassing, but he still takes a deep breath when his lungs figure out how they’re supposed to work again and he starts telling the story. 

“So, you were right. Orpheus was a musician, but not like any run of the mill musician, he was the best harpist in all of Greece, even the gods acknowledged his talents.” Lance whistles and Keith tries very hard to not be distracted by the way his lips pucker to make the sound. “Umm…. So, on his wedding day his wife, Eurydice, got separated from the wedding party and got bit on the heel by a snake while she was running away from a Satyr with… less that pure intentions and died.”

“That’s awful.” It’ s almost a whisper.

“Yeah, it really is.” Keith pauses for a moment to silently mourn a fictional nymph. Which, okay yeah it’s probably dumb, but whatever. If Keith had learned anything in the last six months of constant warfare, it’s that patience yields focus and you should always respect the dead. He continues, “Anyways, Orpheus was so heartbroken that he decided to take a journey to the underworld to strike a bargain with Hades to get her back. So when he got there he just started playing this song, and it was so beautiful that even the stones around them start crying and it moved both Hades and his wife Persephone’s hearts or whatever, so Hades cut him a deal.”

“He told Orpheus that if he started walking to the gates of Hell Eurydice would follow behind him and be returned to the world of the living, but only if he didn’t look back at her until they were both out of Hades’ domain. So he walked and walked and had to keep reminding himself that no matter how much his heart told him to, he couldn’t look back. So, when he reached the upperworld he finally looked back, except he forgot to account for the fact that Eurydice could be farther than a foot behind him. She hadn’t reached the entry yet, so she was dragged back down to stay in the world of the dead.”

Lance makes a small sound, whining sound. It’s the same sound Lance always makes when he hears something sad or sees wounds on a comrade after a battle. Keith reaches a hand out to push Lance’s bangs back partly because he knows it’s the easiest way to sooth the blue paladin, and partly because it was an excuse to touch him.

He pulls his hand back, not without reluctance but he still has the rest of the story to tell and being mesmerized by Lance melting under his fingertips would be a little too distracting for Keith to remember how words work. “After that he only ever played sad music. There are a few different versions of how the myth ends, but the one that’s told most often is that in his grief he didn’t pay tribute to the god of wine and he was torn limb from limb as punishment. The muses carried his harp into the sky to form Lyra and immortalize Orphus’s tragedy in the night sky.”

All at once there’s a weight on Keith’s side that was not previously there. Lance had closed the small space between them so that he could rest his head against Keith’s should and lean into him. 

Lance makes an amused sound. “Of course your favorite constellation in the sky would be the one with the with the most depressing love story behind it.”

Keith furrows his brow. He’s been pointing out different constellations all night and he just doesn’t get how Lance picked out his favorite one so easily. His heart does something weird again. It’s painful and also…  pleasant? warm? nice? 

Keith does it too, though. Off of the top of his head he could tell you that Lance hates everything remotely flavored like cooked carrots, but will eat anything that tastes like raw ones. He could write poems about how Lance always worries his bottom lip with his teeth when he’s not quite sure what to say. He could almost list all of the names of the people in Lance’s absurdly large family in alphabetical order and tell you at least two facts about each one of them. Keith could tell you all about how Lance mumbles under his breath in Spanish when he’s scared or exhausted. It wouldn’t sound as pretty, but he could hum you all of the songs Lance sings when he’s happy.

Keith know without a shadow of a doubt why he remembers every tiny detail that Lance has ever revealed to him. There wasn’t a specific moment he realized he was in love with Lance, it had been happening slowly for a long time now. And, yeah, Keith thinks he has an idea as to  why Lance knows so many small truths about him too. He’s just… never asked for confirmation. So he plays with the velcro on his gloves for split second before deciding to take them off completely and setting them aside. He burns a hole in the projected image of Earth’s sun and bites the bullet.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

Lance lifts his head from Keith’s should and settles his chin in it’s place so that he gets a better view of Keith’s profile. “Doing what?”

Keith musters up the courage to turn his face and look directly into Lance’s eyes. Their noses are almost touching now. “Noticing all of these… I don’t know, these like, obscure little things about me that no one else notices. Like knowing I like black space jellies when I’ve never actually vocalized anything about that, or remember when Hunk tried to shove that plant in my face so I could smell it and you swatted it out of his hands because it looked like a tulip and you remembered I was allergic to them. Or knowing that my favorite color is blue and that my least favorite is burnt orange.”

“To be fair burnt orange is an awful color in general.”

“Okay, yeah, but you always know when I’m upset, or nervous, or happy because of some weird hand gesture that I usually don’t even know I’m doing until you point it out. Why do you know all of those things Lance? Why do you remember them?”

One of Lance’s eyebrows quirks up and he teases, “Do you really want to know?”

Keith let’s out an exasperated breath. “Well, I asked didn’t I? So yeah Lance, I want to know.”

The smirk falls off of Lace’s face and he shifts himself to sit on his feet so that his body is facing Keith’s. Lace keeps his eyes trained on the floor, looking like he’s waging some sort of internal battle, and when he finally looks back up at Keith there’s determination burning in his expression and maybe a little fear. 

Lance opens his mouth to speak…and then he closes it. He does this four times before bringing his folded hands up from his lap to cover his face. Lance complains into his hands in hushed Spanish. 

When he peaks out from between his fingers and then drops them uselessly back in his lap, his cheeks and ears are an adorable shade of red and he smiles at Keith sheepishly. “You know, for someone who talks so much, I’m really not all that great with words when it comes to stuff like this.” 

The words are accompanied by a self deprecating laugh. Keith frowns and tries to make his voice sound encouraging when he says “Take your time.”

Lance smiles, but there’s a bitter edge to it. “That’s the thing though, all I’ve been doing is taking my time. I’m kind of sick of it honestly. I keep trying to find the exact right words to say to you and I practice in my head and then as soon as I consider opening my mouth to say it, I just forget how to talk or I say something dumb. And it’s just so ridiculous, you know? Because it doesn’t have to be some drawn out dramatic speech like I keep telling myself. It’s actually just so stupidly simple and I don’t get why I’m so scared to mess it up. But really, how hard is it to say “because” and follow it up with three words? I look at you an I just…” Lance stares at him. “I just…” Lance lifts his hands and places them on either side of Keith’s face. 

Keith’s heart is trying to make its great escape by bludgeoning it’s way out of his chest. He’s pretty sure his entire rib cage is turning to dust and his body is down a set of lungs. They’ve just ceased existing. What are lungs? No clue, never heard of them.

“Keith.” Lance’s voice cracks just a little when he says the name and he swallows and starts again. “Keith. Keith Kogane. My buddy, my pal. I know that you have a sweet tooth, and that you love a good hug but don’t know how to ask for one when you need it. I know that you’re smart, and talented, and think butterscotch candies are the sole creation of the devil himself.”

Keith can’t help the laughter that escapes him and it makes Lance smile the way he always does when Keith so much as chuckles.

“I know that you have the best laugh I’ve ever heard. You have no idea how much I love that laugh. Seriously. I know you collect snow globes, and love conspiracy theories-”

“They’re not all just theories Lance, there’s a lot of evidence out -”

“Shhhhhh, you asked me a question and I’m trying to answer it and I’m kind of on a roll after mumbling for five minutes about how this wasn’t going to be some drawn out thing. But I’m just focusing on you instead of some practiced speech and I’m actually forming mildly coherent sentences, so be quiet. I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.”

“I know a bunch of tiny little facts about you, and yeah sure part of that is because I’m super observant and totally cool,” he winks, “but I notice all of those things specially about you because…” Lance swallows hard and takes a calming breath. “I lo-”

Keith has been told many times that he gives into impulses too quickly, that he’s too impatient. And…yeah, it’s true, absolutely, and he’s working on it. No, really, he is! Try as he might though, he couldn’t handle another second of wanting to kiss Lance and not doing it when the opportunity clearly presented itself. 

It’s not the smoothest first kiss, but it’s not all teeth and bumping noses either, and it leads into soft drawn out kisses, and kisses that can barely even be called that because the two of them are grinning so wide. 

When Keith pulls away a faux pouty expression take over Lance’s face. “You didn’t even let me finish.” He starts to waggle his eyebrows in the most obnoxious way possible and says “These lips were just irresistible huh? I guess I’m just too smoochable.”

How the hell does Keith find this so cute? 

“Hey, Keith?” 

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

2

meet my shit archer oc matthias who may or may not be flirting with hanzo just to spite jesse (he french btw,,,,,,,,,,,he also need friends)

Alien/Merman Lance Strikes Again

Since Lance isn’t on his home planet and near an ocean anymore (cause he is with the paladins on the castle-ship), he can’t form into his “merman” self as frequently, causing for his skin to dry out and his scales to become irritated. That is until Hunk introduces him to face masks. He becomes obsessed with them, begging Allura to stop at every single space mall so he can try out different masks (”Alllllluurraaa!! It’s magically hydrating! We have to get it! It was ~made~ for me! And it smells like..coconut? What the quiznak is a coconut?”), and he somehow manages to persuade the team to try them with him. Introduce team bonding ft. spa (Keith will go to his grave trying to convince the team, and himself, that he doesn’t like it and yet he buys his own headband to get his hair out of his face).

Stranded // Jackson Wang & Mark Tuan (M)

Originally posted by vladilife

Pairing: Jackson x Reader x Mark

Genre: Smut // Threesome

Summary//Request: wonderandneverlandtrip said: Could you possibly do a mark x reader x Jackson smut from got7 ? I love your writing btw 🙊❤❤

PLEASE READ: I have written a continuation of this scenario! If you would like to read it, you can~ I’m Okay With That // Jackson Wang & Mark Tuan

A/N: Please be advised this scenario is rated mature // Threesome, car sex, oral.


If you hadn’t of been in the company of your two best friends, Mark and Jackson, today would have officially been the worst day ever – period.

All three of you were en route back from a weekend getaway with the rest of the boys. You, Mark and Jackson were in the old red Volvo, while the other 5 took the jeep – currently miles ahead of you. Unfortunately for you three, Mark had accidently ran over some idiot’s broken beer bottle left lying at the side of the road, causing the front left tyre to completely burst flat. To make things worse, upon getting out of the car and examining the flat tyre, Jackson then informed you both that there was no spare in the trunk – completely adding insult to injury. Mark called JB, telling him of the situation.

“Well, I can’t come back for you guys because there’s no room for you – it wouldn’t be safe. You guys are gonna have to wait until I leave the other boys home and then come pick you all up. I’ll be about 4 hours – so just stay put.” JB instructed Mark upon him calling, leaving the three of you stranded at the side of the lonely, barren road as you all sat in the car – eating the food left over from the trip and watching the sun as it set in the distance.

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Wet

Summary: These pranks are getting pretty out of hand… Enough said.

Pairing: Warren x Reader

Warnings: It might be intense fluff, it might be light smut… Who knows? Swearing, as always.

A/N: Currently super pissed off at tumblr right now. I had like 3 stories I was going to publish today and they all got deleted, so that was fun. If you guys have any alternatives to tumblr drafts could you message me bc I’m legit so lost… 😱 Sorry that this is super late. You guys should request for sure because this writer’s block is killing me. 😭 😭 

Originally posted by snarling-through-our-smiles


“Shit!” You gasped as you felt the icy water soak through your clothes. In an instant, you felt another balloon explode against you, drenching you once more. “What the fuck?”

You wiped the water from your eyes, shivering against the wind. You had just come out of the mansion with Jubilee, heading to the pond for a nice, relaxing lunch with Jean, Scott, and Kurt. Instead, the moment you stepped outside, you were attacked. 

“Nice!” 

You looked up to find Warren and Peter, perched in a tree with a bucket of water balloons. They hi-fived before Warren swooped down and Peter skidded to a stop at your left side with a cool gust of wind. 

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y'all: cute shy bunny~~~~~

me: he look like a coconut headass

Girl Next Door Part Three

“How’s school going?” Linda, Y/N’s mom, asked, as she handed the salad bowl to Y/N.

She grabbed it, placing some on her plate. It had been a week since she had snuck into Harry’s room, and a week of her ignoring Harry. She slipped out at five am, ran back to her house, made herself a smoothie and went for her usual run. She came back, got dressed, and went to school as if nothing happened. She ignored his gaze, his texts, and any attempt he made of getting in contact with her.

Harry had woken up that day, confused. Y/N had never left after she spent a night, she would wake up first and then she would toss and turn, trying to wake him up. When Harry did wake up she would all innocent and claim it was an accident and she didn’t mean to wake him, then the two would lay there for a while, just relaxing in the warmth of the blankets.

But he was surprised to see that she was gone, leaving him alone and his body cold. She had left the window open and when he got up to close it he had seen her, she was in her robe, her hair up and tangled with a towel. She walked over and closed her curtains without a smile or a wave, leaving him confused. He had texted her, knocked on her door, and tried to stop her in the hallway, but she ignored him, she didn’t bother to try and communicate with him.

“Good,” Y/N nods, “we have competition in four weeks, and the musical goes up in eight, so it’s a bit tense.”

“How’s Scott?” Mark, her father, asked, as he served himself some chicken.

“Good,” Y/N lied, setting down the bowl and tucking a hand behind her ear.

“I was talking to Anne the other day she says Harry is becoming too much. He doesn’t come home, and if he does he’s slamming doors and swearing, I’m just thankful you cut all ties with that boy,” Linda says, her voice full of disgust.

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Damian [about Jon]: I need some candy for our first playdate, but I don’t want to come on too strong.

Jason: M&M’s?

Damian: Well, if I pick plain, he’ll think I’m cheap. And if I pick peanut, he may have an allergy. You just killed him, Todd!

Jason: *shrugs* How about Charleston Chew?

Damian: What is this, Brooklyn in the fifties? Don’t just say stuff.

Jason: You asked for my help, then you don’t want it.

Alfred: Excuse me, Master Damian, but why not consider an Almond Joy? It looks like you only brought something for yourself, but then you just happen to have two pieces.

Damian: Finally, a real suggestion!

Jason: *gets a piece of Almond Joy from the tray* If he doesn’t like coconut, you’re screwed.