bellamy and clarke were really out here on a candlelit balcony looking at the starry night sky and all they could talk abt was Leadership ProbLems again when will they let mE LIVE WHEN WILL THEY LET THEMSELVES
anyone else find it weird how we’re just supposed to believe that a girl who’s spent the first seventeen years of her life in confinement and less than six months learning to fight/kill is supposed to be able to beat fully grown warriors who’ve been swinging swords since birth? no??? jUST ME??,???? ok cool
Because @cupnoodle-queen is the best enabler and Ignis’ pompadour is something to be celebrated
“Raine, darling,” Ignis quipped, sipping his cup of Ebony. “You’re staring. Not that I mind, but I’m rather curious this morning about what it is that has captured your attention.”
Raine sat beside Ignis at their dining table, her chin propped up on her fist, examining him with squinted eyes.
Finally, she declared, “You need a haircut.”
Ignis lifted his head in surprise. He hadn’t thought of that. It had been some time that he’d done anything with his hair. He’d allowed Prompto to come by and trim it every now and then, but since he was frequently taking trips out to Hammerhead to check on Cindy, he hadn’t had the chance to call him over.
He’d worn his hair in the same style for a few years now. Spiked at the front and slicked towards the back. But now that Raine had mentioned it, the back had gotten a little longer than he’d have liked, and his bangs were starting to become a bit of a nuisance.
Lucas cooed from his high chair. Raine turned to her son with a nod.
“So you agree, Daddy needs a haircut. Do you think he’ll let me if I ask him nicely?”
“Da!” Lucas gurgled.
Ignis set his coffee mug down on his coaster. “Well, my fate is sealed.”
Raine swatted at Ignis’ arm. “I cut Lucas’ hair all the time.”
Ignis turned his head to her, his glassy eye blinking slowly. “My love, not that I am questioning the quality of your work, nor your ability, but as a blind man, I cannot tell the difference.”
Raine rolled her eyes––although she was sure that he somehow knew––and tugged on his arm to get him to stand. She picked Lucas up and placed him on her hip as Ignis followed her upstairs to their bedroom. She put the baby down in his crib and brought a chair for Ignis.
She fetched the scissors from the medicine cabinet of their bathroom and set to work at trimming her husband’s hair. It was soft between her fingers as she snipped away the beginnings of a mullet, leaning back every now and then to check her work.
When it came time to trim his bangs, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. There was something about the longer hair in the front that made her bite her lip. And then she had a brilliant idea. Raine scampered away to the bathroom again and returned with a small jar of pomade.
She slid onto Ignis’ lap, straddling his thighs. His hands instinctively came up to rest on her waist, holding her flush against him. “What, pray tell, are you doing, my dearest wife?”
Raine dipped her fingers in the pomade and warmed it on her palms and fingertips. Then she ran it through Ignis’ hair, styling it so it rose into a sleek pompadour, allowing a few strands to fall against his forehead.
“There,” she said once she was finished, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Shame you can’t admire my handiwork. You look so sexy.”
Ignis’ eyebrow raised over the rim of his protective shades. “Is that so?” His fingers tightened on her waist, and when she moved to get up, he held fast and wouldn’t allow her to budge. His lips found hers briefly before trailing down her neck to her collarbone, the tip of his nose tickling her slightly as it ran along the curve of her shoulder.
“Iggy, stop,” she urged half-heartedly, her hands gripping the material of his shirt. “Not in front of the baby.”
“If I don’t see him, he isn’t there,” came Ignis’ snarky reply as he nudged open Raine’s blouse with his nose and pulled a bruise over the curve of her breast with his lips and teeth.
Raine let out a breathy sigh as she arched into him, unable to stop herself. “At least let me put him in the nursery,” she insisted, his mouth never ceasing to tease her as she made no effort to move. Ignis seemed to weigh his options, finally loosening his grip on her waist.
Raine had never put Lucas down for a nap so quickly in her life.
Victor isn’t convinced by Yuuri’s words—not at first. He sits up in the bed, palms splayed behind him. He watches him carefully, almost analytically, as the tears build up in the other man’s eyes, slipping down his cheek and landing onto the sheets. “Are you sure it didn’t hurt—”
He shakes his head, cutting Victor’s words off without a sound.
But he keeps crying.
Victor reaches out for him, and Yuuri lies down on top of him, cuddling against his chest and burying his face in Victor’s neck. Victor strokes his hair, shushing him as quiet sobs continue to come from Yuuri in between muffled words and the occasional kiss to Victor’s skin, almost apologetic. “I’m so happy,” he explains weakly. “It was perfect, Victor.”
At that, he shuts his own eyes, smiles sleepily towards the ceiling. “It was perfect for me, too.” He licks his lips and holds Yuuri closer, taking in a deep breath. If it weren’t for the exhaustion and his thoughts being dulled by the sudden flooding of emotions, he would most likely cry, too. But instead, he just holds him, loves him, whispers sweet nothings into his hair as he falls asleep.