and his curls :3

“Just because you know my memories doesn’t mean you know me.”

Leo Elster study.
Colin Morgan is so beautiful, and harder to draw than u imagine, but I wanna try anyway. Theese are in bn but in the future I’d like to try coloring in blue and red, because *SPOILER SEASON 2* the imagine of his blood, both blue and red, was amazing. Can someone feel terrible and find beautiful his favourite character death at the same time? Because I did, and i feel guilty for that, but i guess I have the screenwriters to blame.

anonymous asked:

napoleon's curls headcanon: what about illya adoring napoleon's hair without any product in it? he finds out how great it looks when once (before they even get together, while he, napoleon and gaby are friends and partners) they have to talk about their plan for the next day in the evening, and napoleon comes to illya's room after taking a shower. he's wearing a pijama and his hair managed to dry already, but it's without any product in it, and he looks so SOFT that illya jus cant deal

Okay, I’m super late with answering this, I’m so sorry!! This is so sweet and pure and good!

He remembers too late they wanted to discuss a few mission details. They settle on the couch eventually, after Illya apologises for forgetting their meeting. Napoleon waves it off, seemingly too tired to tease him and starts talking. Illya does his best to listen, but it’s very hard to focus on what his partner says, because his hair is so distracting.

So the talk derails quickly after that and Napoleon looks ready to pout, leading to Illya wanting to die on the spot. To him, his partner is too adorable to handle.

He sputters out an incoherent mess of a sentence - Russian, mixing with English - before he regains his composure. With an amused huff, Napoleon ruffles his own hair. Before Illya knows what he’s doing, he is carding his fingers through the soft curls as well.

Napoleon stops breathing for a moment, looking sidewards. Illya’s brain catches up and he snatches his hand back, as if he’s burned himself.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “It looked so soft.”

Napoleon draws his brows up, rather amused by Illya’s antics. “Well, it is very soft.”


There is a small pause, then Napoleon says: “You can continue, you know? I don’t mind.”

Happy he is allowed to touch Napoleon’s hair - but not without a little bit of hesitation - Illya settles back against the couch. His partner doesn’t seem inclined to move very far, appearing like a cat demanding cuddles and he can’t hold back a relieved grin.

They stay like that for a long time, not talking at all, but simply enjoying each other’s presence. A better way to spend his evening doesn’t come to Illya’s mind.

blackenedcurse  asked:

could you draw murdoc with a leather jacket unzipped and theres no shirt underneath and hes doing his bass playing while giving (viewer) a sexy look with his tongue curled outta his mouth? ;) <3

He’ll show off for you anytime! ;D

anonymous asked:

lams angsty oneshot prompt — john is terrified of the dark, so one night when the power unexpectedly goes out he gets a panic attack and alexander calms him down :')

Lams fuels my heart, it really does. I love Lin, but God do I pray he never discovers my one shots.


John and Alex weren’t the perfect couple. They had arguments, Alex had severe anxiety due to his past with the hurricane and abandonment. John had PTSD from the way his father treated him and his siblings, the punishments he’d receive for stepping a toe out of line.

They made it work though - whenever Alex was panicking or going through a rough patch, John knew how to calm him. Know how to hold him so he didn’t panic at contact, knew the songs his mother used to sing to him, played with his hair, treated him the way he knew helped the best.

Alex knew how to help John. Whenever he’d panic, flashbacks plaguing his mind when he’d accidentally break something, Alex could coax him out of his mind, assuring him accidents happened and John was fine. 

They’d lived together for a few months now - actually tomorrow would be their nine month anniversary but who was counting - and life had been going quite well. Their bed was soft enough to where that’s where they’d retreat when needed, firm enough for their more intimate moments, and cozy enough for lazy Sundays.

It was late at night - or early in the morning John wasn’t completely sure - it was so dark, no stars shining, no moon illuminating their room. He wasn’t sure what had woken him up, eyes still blurry and head swimming with sleep. He looked to his right, Alex face down, arms curled to his chest like a baby, mouth parted slightly as he slept. John felt a sleepy smile spread on his face, laying back down, feeling Alex cuddle into the warmth of his body.

Thunder roared through the night, causing his blood to turn to ice, eyes widening as he realized what had woken him up. Lightning lit up the room, Alex stirred slightly, eyes blearily opening, head tilting up slightly. He caught sight of John -  eyes wider than ever, body sat rigged. He leaned over to his side of the bed, flicking the lamp. 

Nothing. Squinting in confusion, he tried again, nothing. The power went out. He turned back to John, who had grabbed a pillow, holding it tightly to his chest. “Oh God…” His voice was horse, basically a whimper. 

“John, hey hey,” Alex sat up, coo’ing quietly. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re laying in bed with me, see? Feel the soft blanket? Remember you wanted the black one but I made us get blue, see, here.” He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders.

“D-Dad…h-he would, when a-a storm hit and I-I’d be, the dark! He-He’d lock me in the c-closet and - and it was so dark, oh God.” He had pulled his knees up to his chest, biting his bottom lip, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I know baby I know, but he’s not here. You’re in our apartment, we live a few floors below Herc and Laf. Eliza and Maria live a few blocks down, your siblings live only a few minutes away. Your dad’s not here. He’s not gonna come - he’s never going to hurt you again.”

Alex hopped off their bed, rushing to the small closet. He tore through it blindly, grabbing the soft plushie John had for years - a gift from his mother when he was younger - finding the shaped light as he came back.

He handed John the stuffed turtle, pulling the taller man to his chest. He pushed the button, letting small illuminated stars cover their ceiling. “See? It’s not that bad - you’re laying in a soft bed that cost more than both of our income combined and is bigger than our kitchen.”

John’s face, stuffed down in his blanket, he laughed a bit, small and quiet. Alex signed, wishing the storm would pass soon. He checked the time. 

3:21 AM.

He kissed John’s curls, laying his head against his, running his hands up and down John’s arms.

“Do you wanna talk baby?” He shook his head, shaking slightly as thunder sounded.

Alex’s own anxiety was acting up - he could feel it in his chest, in his mind - but he pushed it away, knowing John was having a harder time than he was. “Do you want me to tell you a story?” Some nights John would request stories, forbidden lovers, happy endings, comedies, anything to distract him.

Another shake of the head. 

Almost shly, John whispered. “Can you sing to me?”

“Yeah, yeah course baby boy. Do you have any requests?” He shrugged, and Alex tightened his hold around him.

He thought for a few moments, before a song came to mind. 

“You make me smile,
You make me sing,
You make me feel good everything,
You bring me up,
When I’ve been down,
This only happens when you’re around.”
John smiled, head coming up more so from the blanket fort he’d made around himself.

Thunder roared, lightning flashing angrily, and the lights from their room and he could see through the windows flickered.

“And I can’t go on this way,
With it stronger every day,
But being too shy to say,
That I really love you.”

“You’re never shy…” John snorted quietly, and Alex grinned, running his hands through his hair.

“I want to fly
Away with you,
Until there’s nothing more for us to do,
I want to be
More than a friend,
Until the end of an endless end.”

The storm outside roared, the rain poured, but John was safe. He was warm, held in Alex’s arms, Alex’s sweet voice singing to him.

“And I can’t go on this way
With it stronger every day
But being too shy to say
That I really love you.”

“I really love you too…” John mumbled, kissing Alex’s stomach, loving the bit of pudge his boyfriend had gained.

Alex had moved to lay back, running his hands through John’s hair. “I’ll never be too shy to show I love you…”

anonymous asked:

Can you do a fluffy Steve x Reader where the reader and Steve are married and they're trying to get their kid (baby boy Joseph James (Joey)) to say his first word and when he finally says it, it's like 'Murica or shield or cap or something hilarious? Maybe poptarts or Clint? XD

OMG THIS IS PERFECT okay so i tweaked his first word because i thought it would be cute asf 


Originally posted by isthatchocolateorpoop


It was 9 in the evening, and oh boy, were you and Steve tired.

Joey was a babbling toddler, of course he would become restless sometimes! 


You didn’t know a child could be so energetic 3 hours after their bed time, a week in a row, almost at the age of 2. 

As yourself and Steve sat on the sofa of your apartment, you just watched Joey run around in circles, blond curly hair bouncing behind him as he giggled away. Steve had gotten a tiny bit fed up of your child not behaving.

“C’mon buddy, isn’t it your bed time?” Steve asked, and Joey babbled in response to his dad’s interrogation. “Should I try and wear him out, babe?”Steve mumbled with a smile. You nodded frantically in plea. 

Steve rolled onto the carpet and caught Joey by the tummy, lifting him into the air and pulling faces. 

“Who’s that? 1…2…3! It’s the tickle monster!”  You watched as your husband plopped your baby boy on the couch next to you and tickled his sides and beneath his chin. 

“Hear the trumpets hear the pipers! A hundred million angels singing!” You listened to Steve sing to Joey.

“Nooooow. Can you say ‘mama’?” Steve asked him, and Joey said nothing.

“Hm… Baby, can you say ‘daddy’?” Still nothing.

You heard Joey mumble something inaudible.

“What was that bubba? Did you say something?” You turned to look at your child sitting in Steve’s lap. 

“C’mon Jojo, what did ya say?” Steve tickled him again, sending the little boy into a giggling fit again. 

“Unca buck!!!” You heard his high pitched voice say. 

Uncle Buck. Uncle Bucky.

“Unca Buck!! Unca Buck-yee!!” 

You watched as Steve gaped it his son, then looked at you, then looked back at the little bundle of joy. 

You whipped your phone out and started recording, “Joey, baby, could you say that again! Uncle Bucky?” 

“Unca Buck-yee!” 

You laughed at his way of his way of words, and sent the video to Bucky.

You: Congrats, Buck, our son has said his first words. 

Bucky: Oh neat! Well, at least I now have a first in command!

You looked up from your phone to see Joey sparko in Steve’s arms. You placed a light kiss upon his curls, as your husband of 3 years set him down in his cot. As Steve walked out of the nursery, you weren’t there, so he assumed you went to the kitchen.

You came up from your crouched position behind the crouch and placed your hands over Steve’s eye, whispering a ‘boo!’

“Who knew our kid’s first word would be his uncle’s name,” You came to sit next to your lover, “I’m just glad it wasn’t ‘Cap!’ or ‘Shield!’” You giggled as Steve tapped your thigh, you placed a kiss to his lips.

“Not as bad as it being ‘doll’, he’d become a heart-breaker, next thing you know he’d be picking up ladies from the local park.”

You chuckled quietly as your love turned around to face you. 

“I’m glad I married you,” You confessed, “I wouldn’t be able to manage this little trouble maker without you, I love you.” 

“I love you too, Y/N.” 

Originally posted by queen-witch7

The Richonne Baker’s Dozen 3 Paragraph Challenge

Total Words: 2775

Rating: T+ (mostly)

A/N: I hope you enjoy the following Baker’s Dozen of Richonne Fics. I LOVED writing Richonne in all these different situations. Thanks @richonnejustdesserts for this awesome challenge!

1) Katana Lesson (First Time Fic)

“Here, try.”

Michonne gently urged him to take her most treasured weapon. Rick looked at her in amusement before biting his lip and nodding reluctantly.

She handed the sheathed sword to him with a smirk. He tentatively took it in his hands and weighed it, raising his eyebrows as if impressed before slowly unsheathing it.

She quietly studied his fascinated gaze, backing up next to his side, intently awaiting his next move.  

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