does he get that look in his eye

sexyassphan  asked:

"HI! I had just sent an ask and no,it wasn't Ripple. There were parts where Dan was 7 years old and on vacation if that helps. And I think he almost drowned? They talked about each others eyes a lot too" I think this is saviour by howellight on ao3

Saviour ➵

Dan Howell is 13 when he first meets Phil Lester.

He was on vacation with his mum and brother when Phil saved him from drowning.
Dan thought that true love at first sight is real just from looking into those bright blue eyes.

Those bright blue eyes that he can’t ever get out of his mind.

Those bright blue eyes that he thought that he would never see again after his vacation ended.

Even after 7 years, He still thinks about that beautiful boy who saved his life.

He thought that he wouldn’t ever see him again.

But then He does, when Phil saves his life once more.

- Tori

anonymous asked:

Gay Chocolatier Kaiba? Bitch, no. He's less laughter Willy Wonka. Molecular Gastronomist with degrees in organic chemistry and everything. People reserve places at his restaurant a year in advance. Meanwhile Yugi's family has a family owned restaurant across the street, more humble, still massively popular, and they're happier.

re: this post

And KaibaCorp’s just taken over the business, I get you.

Yugi and his Grandpa find a golden promo Blue Eyes White Dragon (non-playable, banned from official competition, does not count as a real Blue Eyes card - I’m just reading the text on the bottom here) and get to go to Seto Kaiba’s Duel Monster based chocolate factory.

No, Mokuba isn’t an Oompa Loompa.

…That’s Noah. He kept him. Easier to clone and duplicate code and the little shit owes him. He’s also surprisingly good at impromptu sonnets. Ok, it’s no ‘Oompa Loompa doompady doo’ but it’s something.

And Kaiba’s not looking for an heir. Far too prosaic. Besides that’s how he ended up with the factory in the first place (they still haven’t found Pegasus’s body). No, he’s trying to wipe out his rival chocolatiers, and little Yugi, sweet as he is, is going to have to go.

Can we get some appreciation for Coran and how much he does?

Okay, so I was looking for Coran’s eye color (because I couldn’t remember it) and then I started to look at the list of occupations:

Look at this! LOOK AT THIS! This man has a full plate on his hands. He’s so important and pretty much the key to getting the paladins as far as they have in being true paladins.

He’s been Royal Adviser for a while so there’s no doubt he’s got experience with knowing how to get a kingdom/empire to stay functional and diplomatically handle situations. He’s experienced in advising people on what they should do in tight situations.

Mechanical Engineer. He’s the one that keeps the ship up and running (later with the help of Hunk and Pidge I don’t doubt and I have no doubt he teaches them how things work when they have questions or seem to struggle with something).

Helmsman of the Castle of Lions. He can fly not just the Castle, but probably anything he gets thrown into and if he doesn’t know he’ll probably learn quick, fast, and in a hurry.

Part-time chief for the Team Voltron. Okay so his cooking skills are probably a 50/50 on it being actually tasty to humans (and sometimes even Alteans), but I’m pretty sure he’s been to war and had to make do with what he had to feed not just himself, but probably a platoon.

Chief Medical Officer. This means when the paladins get hurt, he’s taking care of it with or without the help of another. After everything was said and done, he was probably the main one to take care of Lance’s wounds after being seriously injured when the Rover imposter blew up.

Chief Trainer. He was probably part of the military force of Altea so he’s probably experienced in training others to fight in the first place. This is how he probably knows how to train the paladins. Also because of this experience (and probably experience interacting with the former paladins) he has initial doubt because these are just children and they seem to have no experience in fighting (save for Shiro and maybe Keith).

He knows nothing about their capabilities so of course he has doubts if they can make it as paladins, but as he learns more about them, he gets better at training them and finding methods to help them grow in their roles.

We’re gonna keep going with the fighting expertise. We see how he gets in a defensive stance when Pidge yells at Allura.

Originally posted by captbuccaneer

See how he turns his body? He’s ready to lunge to her defense at a moments notice if any of the paladins take a turn for the worse and attack her. And what happens when the food get’s thrown at her? He shows fighting experience and blocks the food so that not only she is protected, but himself so he can keep defending her should the need arise (despite it not being fatal to get food on his clothes

Even on the wikia it says “The eyes of a man who’s seen far, far too much pain in his lifetime.”

Look at his face:

Those are the eyes of someone that’s seen too much pain in his lifetime. As I’ve previously stated: there’s a high probability he’s been to war and that’s a lot of pain and suffering.

Teacher of the paladins. Trainer and teacher are two completely different things. While yes, trainers teach, they merely train a certain aspect. As a teacher he gives life lessons and gives them guidance. As a teacher he cares about his students as we see here:

When Lance is homesick he comforts him as best he can. He understands because he’s homesick, too (the only difference being he can never go back to his home because it was destroyed).

He teaches them lessons about things they had no prior knowledge of.

Hunk doesn’t know that the Balmera is a living thing or why they shouldn’t yank the crystals out of the earth, but Coran doesn’t yell at him over not knowing or get frustrated. He calmly explains, “It’s not a planet. Balmera are ancient animals. Petrified, but still alive. Their bodies naturally create the crystals that help power many Altean ships. I often accompanied my grandfather to visit these majestic creatures when he was building the Castle of Lions.

Long story short, give this man some love because he’s so underappreciated.

Fugos ranked

#1 Green Fugo

A very Good and Handsome Fugo. The colors jive well and are easy on the eyes. A top tier Fugo indeed. 

#2 Albino Fugo

The color palette is a bit extreme, but the bold look fits his character, making this Fugo a certified good Fugo. Albino Fugo also scores points for his partially Abbachio-matching color scheme. The young goth imitates its mother. 

#3 Haze Fugo

It’s nice that he matches his stand, and purple does suit our boy well, but his hair is a bit off-putting with the purple. A white haired Fugo would work much better in this get up.

#4 Craft Single

Jesus christ this is a discarded piece of cheese you find in the bottom of the crisper weeks after noticing an odd smell wafting from your fridge. Full body pictures of this monstrosity are outlawed in at least 4 countries and 13 states. Araki saw this color palette and immediately dropped Fugo from the story. This fucker unleashed the power of the sun and then forgot to releash it. Everything about this color scheme is a crime against mother nature. 

cinderdrilla  asked:

hit me up w/ some voltron goodness 8)

Lance puts his foot down, and Shiro/Slav have a long overdue talk.

Shiro never figured Lance for the snapping type. They all had their moments, under the constant stress of intergalactic rebellion, but Lance kept a reasonably calm lid on it – his self-titled “rivalry” with Keith aside. Looking at him now, there is only surprise at the way he’s holding himself, the set of his expression: Lance looks both nervous and pissed off.

‘Keith – could you give us a minute?’ he says, in a deliberately calm voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Keith hesitate, as if reading the tenseness of the situation and worrying that it might get out of hand. ‘Now, Keith. Go check on Slav’s sector.’

Reluctantly, and with a suspicious look at them both, Keith exits. Lance looks even more nervous when he does. More so when silence settles on them, and he raises a brow at Lance. Well? says the look, say what you have to.

‘I just… you’re way too hard on him,’ Lance repeats, a far cry from the irritated way he’d snapped Can’t you just cut Slav some slack? ‘He’s trying to help, Shiro. I-it’s not… he doesn’t mean to annoy you. It’s just how he… is.’

‘Excuse me?’ His previous calm turns to surprise. He keeps his voice low, not meaning to menace – but Lance scowls a little deeper, mistaking it for nonchalance.
Don’t, Shiro. You sound just like Iverson when you do that, a-and he was an ass,’ Lance says, voice rising only in pitch. Angry and nervous, like a cornered cat. Shiro takes a small step back to give him breathing room, but Lance stays tense. ‘Slav only wants to help. You treating him like a nuisance isn’t – it’s not fair, okay. He can’t help being jumpy; he was a prisoner for ages –’

It takes a second or two for that to sink in. When Shiro goes quiet, when his stare goes vacant as he processes this, Lance steps forward, speech picking up momentum as he grew more defensive.

‘– and it’s not easy to adapt out here,’ there’s a note of hurt in his voice, and it hits Shiro more than the chastising. ‘Slav got taken from his people and thrown into a war just like we did. He’s handling it different. YOU handled it different, we all did. I thought you’d understand him because of it, since you both got tortured by the Galra.’

That’s almost an accusation, and now Shiro fully understands what has Lance so fired up, so recalcitrant. And that understanding brings with it a sense of guilt, especially with the way Lance had said I THOUGHT you’d understand.

Keep reading

I am inlove with a boy who likes kicking stones on the ground; he never looks up.

I am inlove with a boy who never keeps eye contact because he thinks it’s dangerous to let people see his eyes, but by some miracle I saw it; it was beautiful.

I am inlove with a boy who smiles and hides it; but little does he know, I see it all; I see the way his eyes sparkle just before he looks down and smiles at the ground.

I am inlove with a boy who likes to get lost in a book, so he doesn’t have to deal with the world; much like the way I do.

I am inlove with a boy who doesn’t have all the right words to say, but says it anyway; and he’s so beautiful I always find myself catching my breath.

I am inlove with a boy who feels trap; but he laughs with that laugh that keeps me on my feet; and I’m happy I’m one of the few ones who gets to see it; and I’m secretly foolishly selfishly hoping he won’t show it to anyone else.

I am inlove with a boy who feels so much of everything; and keeps himself from showing that he does; but I know and I understand.

I am inlove with a boy who never sees me; because he only looks up for one person; she’s his only exception.

I am inlove with a boy who’s in love with someone else; he’s secretly hoping maybe she’ll see him despite him hiding; but she doesn’t.

I am inlove with a boy who’s heart is breaking; the same way as mine.

—  waferqueen, I am in love with a boy who will never get to read this. I am in love with a boy who will never know.

Concept: If the Warden dies killing the archdemon, their love interest finds that sometimes things happen that they can’t explain.

Zevran is this close to getting stabbed by a crow he’s fighting when there’s a crackle of electricity in the air and the man falls flat, dead. But when he looks around there is no mage in sight. The hairs on his arm stand on end for hours.

Morrigan finds Kieran playing with a toy Griffin one day. When she asks where he got it, he says it was from a man with his own eyes. And even though Morrigan tells herself she does not believe in ghosts, sometimes she can’t help but wonder if there is something lingering out of the corner of her eye, a man she once loved with a soft smile.

Leliana finds missions for the Divine dangerous but somehow, whenever she’s in a trap an arrow manages to strike true despite being an impossible shot, her enemy sets off a trap Leliana didn’t remember setting. When she prays she swears she can hear her own lute playing sometimes, a song she learned a lifetime ago.

King Alistair finds himself over his head sometimes and on those nights he will fall asleep on a stack of unfinished plans. When he wakes up, the plans are finished, notes written in a hand he is sure isn’t one of his scribes. A hand that once wrote him a love letter that he keeps hidden in his drawers.

Warden Alistair slipping as he fights of Darkspawn, tired from lack of sleep. A sword comes swinging towards his neck but instead of making contact with his neck there is a figure in his way catching it with their shield. A woman he only sees in his dreams now. When he reaches out for her, the Darkspawn slain, she is always gone.

He really does…

Originally posted by sukiiieee

I really love his smile, and I do mean LOVE

Originally posted by trainingpanda

Just look at that beautiful smile

Originally posted by minpoong

His smile is so precious, I love this dork way too much

He’s going to be the end of me….

Originally posted by lefantasy

(Sorry it’s so blurry) Look at his beautiful smile, his beautiful eye smiles, and the beautiful crinkles that he gets on his nose when he smiles. He’s just perfect

will solace headcanons

• super friendly!! the friendly little sun ever!! could make friends with a plant (he has once or twice)
• potty mouth. literally swears every three seconds.
• does not cry easily, very stoney when it comes to any emotions that aren’t passion or happiness
• golden blonde hair, during the summer his highlights get white blonde
• eyes to die for, sky blue with dark bluish-violet flecks & little bits of yellow if you look hard enough
• freckles!! play connect the dots on them shits (nico has made three dogs, a bird, a spoon, a flower, & a dick or two)
• he always makes eye contact, almost uncomfortably, he just stares right at you as soon as you start to speak
• if he wasn’t a son of apollo he would want to be a son of poseidon
• contrary to his looks, he hates surfing??
• super clumsy, he heals himself more than anyone else, broke his arm in the shower once, very tragic
• tall as a tree that boy is, he was always tall for his age & finally stopped growing at 6'2ish 6'3ish
• he hates shoes!! nico gets mad because he swears will is going to get tetanus
• his face is very round, a button nose, full cheeks, full lips, round wide eyes, a very child like face
• perfect, bright, white teeth he looks a goddamn colgate commercial smh
• he rarely gets angry like seriously angry, but when he does it’s actually very frightening. light drags towards him & he somehow illuminates light & his voice sounds rough like broken glass & he will hurt you just as bad as you hurt him with no qualms
• good singing voice, not the best, but rough & soothing
• wants 3 kids fuckin loves the little munchkins
• overall just a happy cinnamon roll (:

Five Senses

Harry is the type to savor every last bit of his girl.

I mean, he is an Aquarius after all. And an Aquarius Venus as that. So naturally, he’s a pleaser.

Harry is the type to watch her. When his head is between her legs and his fingers are knuckle deep inside of her, he’s the type to look up at her from under his eyelashes and watch her. If her eyes are still open, he sends her a look asking “Are you okay?” He might even stop and press a kiss to her clit before asking if it’s working for her. And if her eyes are closed…. ohhhhh god. That’s when he smirks because he knows he’s doing his job right. And that’s when he takes the time to watch her. Because he knows she gets self-conscious sometimes when he does. But he loves it. Loves watching the way her toes curl, her tummy flutters, her boobs jiggle. Loves watching the way her face scrunches up, how she bites her lips when she’s about to cum, how her lips curve into a smile when his tongue hits the perfect spot.

Harry is the type to love his girl’s smell. Honestly. On those days when she’s extra horny and he feels like being a little shit, he’s the type to tease her. Especially if they’re in public together. Texting her, "Can smell you from here, love.” But he absolutely adores it and honestly, he’ll drop it into conversation at the most random times. “You know your pussy smells amazing when I’m down between your thighs,” over morning coffee, making her almost choke. And on their more intimate nights, he may even stall while he’s kissing her thighs, just so he can smell her. She hates it but it makes him feel so at home between her legs. He reckons he could stay there all day, and usually on lazy days spent in bed or on the couch, he does.

He’s also the type to pay attention to every sound she makes, and fuck, does he love her sounds. He loves knowing which spots elicit which sounds. He knows that if he flicks his tongue in a certain spot, she’ll wine. Or if his fingers graze a spot inside of her, she’ll let out a soft groan and probably a curse word. He wishes he could play her moans like a song on repeat all day, and admittedly, some of his favorite messages from her are when he’s away and she surprises him with an audio clip. In fact, they’ve both recorded themselves in the act a few times just to have something to listen to when they’re apart. And Harry is so attentive that he knows exactly where he’s touching her in the recording. It gets him unbearably hard.

Harry definitely loves her taste. He makes a point of licking his fingers whenever he touches her and she’s wet, especially if he isn’t in a place where he can get his tongue on her. But when he can? Oh god. He’ll take extra time savoring it. Reminding her just how good she tastes, how he loves when she gets this wet for him, and how she has the “best tasting pussy in the world, baby. I swear.” There have even been a few times when he’s brought his fingers up to her own lips for her to taste, because admittedly the sight gets him hard as a rock. And when she cums? He wants to lick up every last bit of it.

And her touch. Yes, he admits that he loves the way her walls feel when they’re clenching around his fingers or his cock. He loves how strong her hips feel when they’re fighting him as he’s trying to hold her down so he can eat her. He loves pushing a hand on her warm tummy while he’s fucking her because he knows she can feel him that deep. But his favorite– his absolute heart melting favorite– is when he’s down between her legs and her fingers interlace with his own. He loves the way her fingers tremble and search for his own steady ones to hold her while she rides through an orgasm that’s all thanks to him. He loves how she gives his hands little thank-you squeezes, involuntary or not, and he loves how her thumb automatically begins stroking his hand when she’s coming down from her hight.

Harry is the type to love a great many things about his girl. And his favorite place to see all of those things, he’s learned, is down between her legs.


Hey, can I ask you a question? Sure. How do you know if a guy you’ve been hanging out with likes you? You like him? Uh-huh, but I think he hates me. Ask him. Doesn’t want to talk about it. No guy ever does. How do I know, then? Does he get that look in his eye when he’s with you? What look? You’ll know it when you see it.

Headcanon with Lance and Lotor

Lance and Lotor meet for the first time in the heat of battle.

Lotor knocking the bayard from Lance’s hands and kicking him to the ground, where his helmet falls off from the impact.

Lance glares up at the masked Lotor, who walks up with sword in hand. Out of respect for beating the Paladin, Lotor removes his visually blocking mask.

Lance let’s his glare fall away and into a small laugh, leaving Lotor to question in anger.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking “What a nice way to go with a beauty in my sights.”“

Lance closes his eyes, as he doesn’t want to see his end come. After awhile, he opens his eyes as Lotor is gone.

Lance looks around, lost and confused. Then he gets yelled at by Keith, telling the Space Case to move it.

Lotor is behind a corner, holding his chest and freaked out because no one has ever called him a beauty and when someone does call him that, it’s from a Paladin.

*cue Lotor to try to bring Lance to the other side. ..

I’m really emotional about Qrow in V4

You would think Qrow would be emotionless

His archetype is cold and distant but Qrow’s not

In fact he shows himself to be really emotional and vulnerable in this volume

When we see him fight Winter back in V3, he knows he’ll win because of his semblance, and even in moments of surprise, he doesn’t seem all that fazed

He puts four kids in danger and he PANICS. He looks more scared than he did at the Fall of Beacon.

When he talks to Raven he’s clearly very angry at her, but the anger’s been there a long time so it comes out really passive-aggressively which is really all we’ve seen up until the fight with Tyrian

He’s so angry at Tyrian he can’t even finish his sentence before he launches at him

He gets stabbed and the first thing he does is look at Ruby and it’s the first time you really see the shines in Qrow’s eyes (the little white shiny things.) On Qrow’s model they’re usually not as prominent, and I took it as him being so panicked he’s on the verge of tears, but he’s worried about Ruby, not himself

Later he gets so stressed from Jaune’s comments he snaps at him a little bit.

Ruby calls him out for not trusting her enough and he tries to avoid the subject until Nora makes him talk

And when Jaune makes a remark about his semblance, Qrow doesn’t brush it off. This middle aged, veteran huntsman is highly affected by the words of some 17-18-year old guy he doesn’t know

In his little spell of delirium he calls out to Taiyang in desperation

Qrow grabbing Jaune’s hand wasn’t really clear to me, but I was certain it was sign of desperation and more panic

Then later he holds Ruby’s hand because his niece is trying to comfort him and he needs her there with him

The whole scene after Ruby’s letter where she sits by him, he says Ruby saved him and I forever scream because he sleeps curled up in a ball (he lays on his back or sleeps up against a tree in earlier episodes, and this position makes him look a lot more vulnerable and small)

When he meets Oscar, he’s completely caught off guard by both Oz and Oscar and you see it register on his face

Tl;dr: let qrow cry so that I don’t


A small, quickly-written, un-beta’d little thing for @leiascully‘s ‘Lists’ challenge. From an idea/prompt born in the rewatch chat a few weeks ago by the lovely @defnotmeyo <3 

1993. She hates his scruff. She’s angry that he can get away with looking like he’s just rolled out of bed at work, when she has to look utterly professional at all times, not one hair out of place, for anyone to even look her in the eye when she’s speaking.

She hates it, because it reminds her of their first case, of falling asleep in his motel room after talking through the night, of how she walked in on him shaving in the bathroom in nothing but a towel the next morning. She couldn’t get the image out of her head for weeks.

She hates it, because he looks better wolfing down diner food after a night in the drunk tank than Ethan does in a three-piece suit.

1994. She hates his scruff. It’s a sure sign that he’s worn out, tired, that he’s stayed at the office all night poring over old casefiles. Trying to find someone to blame for her abduction. Trying to make someone pay. She loves his passion, admires his dedication, but wonders what he’d be like if he’d just give himself some time off now and then.

She hates his scruff, because it reminds her of their time in quarantine after Mount Avalon - about how, near the end, he’d curled up behind her in her bed and recited Hamlet from memory to pass the time. He’d leaned forward, whispered into her ear - “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy” - and the way his stubble dragged along her neck made her gush in her hospital-issue panties.

1996. She hates his scruff. Hates how it darkens his face after hard cases, after Robert Patrick Modell and John Lee Roche, after Russian gulags and confessions of everlasting love from a stranger who claims their souls are tied together. You delusional bitch, get away from him, she’d thought then, but now she’s trying not to let herself think ill of the dead.

She hates his scruff when he keeps a broken all-night vigil at her hospital bedside, his cheeks stained and rough, his eyes red and tired. It reminds her that he’s not going to just let her die peacefully, that he’ll fight for her, that it’s a gift and a curse to be loved by him - yes, she knows for sure now that he loves her. But it’s complicated. 

2000. She loves his scruff. She loves the sandpapery drag of it against her breasts, between her legs. She loves the sight of him shirtless, in jeans, attempting scrambled eggs in her kitchen, looking roguish and rakish with a second-day beard. She loves that he lets it go a little on the weekends - it helps her separate Mulder, her lover, from Mulder, her partner. 

2001. She misses his scruff. He’s dead, and she’s pregnant with his child. There’s no softer way to say it. It’s obscenely poetic, almost gratuitous, like something out of a tragic old Irish folk song her grandfather might sing. She has a feeling that the baby is a boy - and wonders if he’ll have his father’s thick, tenacious beard when he’s an adult. If he’ll have red hair or brown. If he’ll have blue eyes or hazel.

2003. She loves his scruff. She loves this version of him - the laugh lines around his eyes, the barely-noticeable chip in his left lateral incisor, the five or six grey hairs in his beard when he lets it go for a few days. He wears the ravages of life well. One night, he makes savage love to her under a sky full of stars, scraping her skin raw with teeth and nails and stubble. And although they’re running, although they’re grieving, the searing pain of it makes her feel clean and free and new.

2011. She hates his scruff. Sometimes he doesn’t shave or shower for days, just sits slack-jawed and pale in front of the computer screen, thinning, fading, silent, shadowy. She tries to encourage hobbies, buys him countless books, comes home with fishing rods and heirloom seeds and power tools, but he just ignores her. She feels like an unwelcome visitor in her own home.

2025. She loves his scruff. It’s completely grey now, because he’s 64, and she loves that number - never in her wildest dreams did she think he’d see it. It’s been nine years since William came back into their lives, and she was right - he’s got the same rough-hewn face that his father does, cheeks that are dark by four in the afternoon.

He comes over for dinner now and then, when he’s not away at university. One night, after a particularly masterful pork roast, she leans on the porch railing and watches her husband and her son in profile, shooting rifles into old soda cans, whooping like wolves. Her wild men. They both need a shave. They both remind her of 1993.

illyriantremors  asked:

Hey love! This isn't a fic request, first off, but I was re-reading MAF the other day and had to LOL because it's mentioned that Cass used to fight guys in his camp for the clothes off their back and I couldn't help but think, "Well what if that was how he trains Nesta? It would certainly get her to try her hardest not to lose." I thought you might get a kick out of the idea, haha. xx

Oh my god @illyriantremors this was here for literally months I am sorry darling ❤

“Put your guard up, sweetheart.” Cassian says, his voice booming in the hall.

Nesta does as she’s told, but he can see her back going straighter and the slightly darkened look in her eyes.

Always so against taking orders, his Nesta.

“Put the thumb out of your fist, love. Yes, like that.” he can’t help but feel the spark of pride in his chest every time his mate learns something new, every time her body moves quickly away from one of his attacks-if one can call them that, with the crushing fear of hurting her he always has-, the light reflecting on her fighting leathers making it hard for him to think of something that isn’t her warm skin underneath; but he manages.


Nesta stumbles again, still not accustomed to her new fae strength and height and Cassian takes the opportunity to pin her on the ground.

“I win.” he says, a grin spreading on his lips.

Nesta just lowers her eyebrows in response “That’s because you are an old General. You should be used to it, so stop grinning like a child.” she says, and he pouts for a moment, making her roll her eyes but he can just see the edge of a smile on her lips.

“Let’s make a bet, sweetheart.”

Nesta looks him right in the eyes at that and he’s still surprised at how that icy blue can rob him of his breath.

She doesn’t ask, just arches one delicate golden eyebrow.

“You lose a fight, you lose one article of clothing. Simple as it sounds.”

He waits, scanning her face for some signs, trying to understand if he stepped a line, but a predatory smile spreads on Nesta’s lips.

“Is the rule valid for you too, Commander?” she asks, her voice a low purr in his ears that make his arms shake.

He nods, more helpless than he would like to be and understanding that given that utter power that Nesta Archeron has on him, this wasn’t a brilliant idea, but maybe, just maybe, the memory of stealing clothes always leaves him cold and he wants to replace that cold with something warm and kind and Nesta.

Cassian isn’t prepared when Nesta moves, hitting his shoulder and nearly making him fall on his ass - he can’t help but notice how little strength she uses, as if she is scared of hurting him, but he does notice the flutter in his stomach at the knowledge.

It’s a matter of seconds and they are both on their feet again and the moment Nesta tries to aim a fist to his face Cassian takes her wrists and makes her twist around, her back against his chest, his hand around her throat.

“Well,” he says, peppering kisses on her jaw “I think someone has to pay up.”

Nesta arches even more into him, making his head a blank space, but she moves only to remove one of her boots.

He laughs, holds her gainst him “You’ll be the death of me.” he whispers so only she will hear it, his lips on the shell of her ear.

She’s in front of him in a blink, and he fought too many wars, so he knows that her already precarious balance will suffer from the absence of her boot, but she holds herself like a queen, not giving away any signs of discomfort.

She attacks first, again, trying to aim for his left leg with a kick but he moves away, making her stumble, but she regains her balance more quickly that he thought and grabs him by the front of his fighting leathers, using the movement to place her feet behind his ankle and using his own weight to make him fall, just like he taught her.

He smiles as his eyes welcome the ceiling and a very happy Nesta comes into view.

“Pay up.” she says, and he looks her straight in the eyes as he unbuckles the upper part of his leathers and he sees as her eyes go dark, her lips slightly parted and his blood starts racing.

He moves up so that their lips are only inches apart and his mind screams her name, screams it so loud it echoes in the space between his heart and ribs.

He kisses her because he can’t resist her and they both know it, and when Nesta cups his face he whispers “Home,” he whispers “cabin,” he whispers “mine.”

Too Late [a Sebastian Smythe/Barry Allen imagine]

Request: Sebastian Smythe and Barry Allen crossover in which Team Flash wants Barry to admit his feelings for reader already so they brought a doppleganger(seb) to make him jealous.Turns out seb falls for reader too.

a/n: idk guys i needed a glee crossover to prepare for my bday and darren criss…

“Who is this guy and why does he look exactly like Barry?” you immediately ask when you enter the Cortex, eyes wide as you take in his appearance. His tan sweater is pulled over a white polo, both collars popped up like a guy from an old movie. You carefully circle around him, cocking an eyebrow, “Or did Barry get an upgrade or, like, I don’t know, get hit with a confidence gun? I’m lost?”

‘Barry’ scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Upgrade? Maybe in some other timeline.” he sneers, looking you up and down; you pull at your striped black sweater. “I’m Sebastian Smythe, Barry’s cousin.” he introduces himself, tilting his head. “And you are? Well, besides super hot.” he smirks, green eyes glimmering playfully.

You bite your lip, feeling your cheeks heat up like a campfire. Damn, he’s so forward, almost the complete opposite of Barry. “I’m Y/N.” you say brightly, readjusting your brown messenger bag on your shoulder.

Smirking, Sebastian comes closer to you, unfolding his arms and letting them hang loosely at hs sides, fingertips hitting his blue jeans. He pouts, squaring his shoulders, “Why does Barry get all the cute ones? Everyone in Ohio is…yikes.” he grimaces, making you giggle. “Huh. That is definitely a sound I could get used to…” he compliments, grinning wickedly at your pink face. “Pretty, smart, if you can sing, you’ll give me a run for my money-”

“Sebastian!” the speedster fumes in a warning tone, plucking off his gloves. Sebastian rolls his eyes, spinning on his heel to face his cousin. “Why must you…you be a flirt?!” Barry huffs, frowning; Seb tries not to laugh, folding his arms. Okay, so maybe Barry needs to work on his insults… “Sorry about him, Y/N. I…he…just showed up…” he mumbles awkwardly.

When you open your mouth, Sebastian scoffs. “Look, Wonder Boy, not my fault Y/N is hot as fuck.” he says nonchalantly; you look down bashfully. “It’s not like you’re gonna make a move anytime soon either.” he shrugs, scrunching his face. “I think you should just go back to what you do best, saving people,” he nods mockingly, “and leave the dating thing to me, cus.”

Cisco presses his fist to his mouth, brown eyes wide, awaiting Barry’s response. The speedster clenches his hands at his sides, face turning bright red like his suit. “You can’t just come here and start flirting with people I like!” he fumes, setting his jaw while he glares.

You look between the two, lips set in a perfect ‘O’ shape, fingers playing with the end of your striped sweater. Damn, two guys are fighting over you! Two cousins! Sebastian spins on his heel, leaning to your level, placing the side of his pale hand the corner of his mouth. “Go on a date with me.” he stage whispers, adding in a cheeky wink at the end.

Blushing, you nibble your bottom lip. Barry has had the chance to ask you out, but he never did… “Okay, Sebastian. On one condition.” you smirk, matching his. “You sing to me.”

A cheshire cat grin appears on his face and he crosses his arms, screwing up his tan sweater; his collar touches his jaw. “I never say no to showing off… Right, Barr?” Sebastian teases, peering over his shoulder. Barry inhales through his nose, storming into the medbay. For the fastest man alive, he always seems to be too late.