especially this little piece of home :)


Voice Types according to TV Tropes:

Contraltos are the lowest female singers commonly heard. Unlike their male counterparts (the basses), however, roles for altos are a bit more common, especially in rock musicals. In more traditional pieces, altos are frequently middle-aged leading women, though some of those are mezzos as well. The only role demographic altos have a firm hold over is for women over sixty - which in most shows means grandmothers. In the rare case that there is a female villain in a show, she will probably be an alto.

[soprano] [mezzo-soprano] [tenor] [baritone] [bass]

anonymous asked:

Tiny bitter rant incoming, but why does this fandom want Lance to be their m|m rep when he's the usual character made gay in every piece of media ever (flirtatious, loud, hilarious) when there's a character who would break so many stereotypes if he was gay since he's the "hero," a ptsd ridden soldier, the golden boy, the one who has a huge heart and is willing to always take people in but for some reason never talks about his own family ever (which hits straight home for lots of lgbt) (cont)

(Cont) especially when the sad reality is that lots of lgbt escape to the military to escape bigoted home situations (and of course lots of little boys are gonna be watching this and I’d rather have lance be the gender role breaking stereotype saying you can like shopping, face masks, and other traditionally femme things and still be likable and get the girl, while shiro can show that you can be the hero and being gay doesn’t change that at all, especially with how lgbt are always side props)

anon I 100% agree, you made SO MANY good points, I really don’t have to add anything else to this just…thank you  🙏 🙏

Hang on To That Feeling


A/N: This is a planned post. I’m going to put a trigger warning on this just in case. This one is a bit different, so feedback would be lovely. 

Word count: 3,278

Originally posted by your-local-killjoy

”Hey Brian, I don’t have much time. What is it?” I asked, struggling holding the phone to my ear using only my left shoulder. 

My fingers moved across the keyboard on the computer without my eyes gazing down once as I continued to type. 

Multitasking had never been my thing and talking on the phone while typing in corrections for the next meeting at work, wasn’t really working out for me. 

“It’s Shawn” he stuttered and then the air in my lungs what punched out entirely. 

Keep reading

Missing You and You Only

“I’m glad you could make it,” Ethan rasped, his voice groggy from the morning and arising from the dead of sleep. Truthfully, he hadn’t had that peaceful of a sleep in a long time, more specifically, in a couple months -since the last time he was home with you.

Keep reading

BTS reaction: You wearing only a transparent shirt, bra and panties

Anon requested:  Bts reaction to come back from practice/studio and find there GF in transpierit shirt and with only panties and bra


Be prepared for a long night, kitten“, he’d state while exhaling deeply.

Originally posted by teamoseokjin


You were looking forward to me coming home ? Someone’s needy“, he’d say innocently while his hand creeps up your inner thigh.

Originally posted by jungkookandyugyeomwhores


* groans* „You were a good girl, right ? I’ll make sure you feel especially good tonight“, he’d promise before leaving marks your neck.

Originally posted by sugabeats


For now, let’s make good use of it, before I rip them off your body“, he’d remark while squeezing your butt, making you jump and curl your legs aroung his waist.

Originally posted by forever-young-got7


Sit on my lap. Let’s see if your cute, little outfit can make a difference in pleasuring you“, he’d tell you with a smirk.

Originally posted by taelatte


Come here. Now. Remove every single piece. Slowly. Let daddy enjoy the view“, he’d order before licking his lips.

Originally posted by girlmeetsyoongismixtape


You’re really sexy babe… but you’d be even sexier, on our bed, naked, legs spread“, he’d slyly whisper in your ear.

Originally posted by ofhairandthighs

“Scary Dreams” -Peter Quill One Shot

Originally posted by dailymarvelheroes

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

Summary: Reader and Peter have been dating for a long time, and Peter considers their future together.

A/N: So after watching Guardians of the Galaxy 2 for the second time, I thought of this nice fluffy one shot (:

Word Count: 841

               It had been a rough day, and your body was aching all over. Someone had hired you to get something of theirs back from someone else, and you had succeeded. You had come home to a nice cooked meal from your boyfriend Peter, who had cooked for everyone else on the ship. You were sound asleep in your bed, Peter’s arm wrapped around your waist when you heard Groot crying. You grumbled in your sleep, trying to wake Peter up to go check on him, but you just couldn’t wake him, or he was pretending to sleep. You mumbled under your breath, as you threw Peter’s arm off your waist, and got out of bed. Groot had woken up crying two nights in a row, and other than you and Gamora had gotten up to see to him. As you left the room, you saw Gamora heading to where Groot was.

               “It’s OK. I’ve got it.” You commented, as you let out a small yawn. Gamora nodded, and headed back into the room she had just left. You ran your fingers through your long hair, and walked into the main room. Groot was sitting on the edge of the couch, tears running down his cheeks, and you could feel your heart break a little. He must have had one of his nightmares again. He lifted his head, and lifted his arms up. You smiled down at him, and walked over to the couch, sitting down and picked him up, and sat him down on your lap so that he was facing you.

               “Did you have a scary dream again?” you asked, and he slowly nodded his head. You reached over and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Do you want me to stay with you until you fall asleep?” you asked, and he nodded his head. You smiled down at him, and laid down on the couch as you cradled him in your arms.

               “I am Groot.” Groot whispered as he cuddled into your arm. You smiled down at him and nodded your head. Rocket had taken the time to teach you how to understand Groot, and you were grateful for it.

               “Alright then, any specific song?” You asked, and he shook his head, as he closed his eyes. You nodded your head and started to softly sing Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac. It had been a song that Peter had introduced her to and she had fallen in love with it from the first word. You looked down at Groot and couldn’t help but smile. You had been with Peter since the beginning, and when you first met Rocket and Groot, you had gotten on well with Groot, even if Rocket had to translate most of the time.

You heard someone walking towards the room and you looked up and saw Peter standing in the doorway. You smiled up at him and then looked down at Groot and saw that he was asleep. You gently placed Groot back down on the couch, and once you were sure that he wouldn’t wake up, you got up off the couch, and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his chest. You looked over to Groot and couldn’t help but think how cute he was sleeping there. Peter grabbed your hand and the two of you headed back to the sleeping quarters.

“You’re really good with him you know?” Peter commented, as he sat down on the end of the bed, and ran his hands over his face and glanced up at you and couldn’t help but smile at how beautiful you were. He reached over, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you over to him so that you were sitting on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

“He’s like a normal human child. My sister back home had a son. I helped her out when her husband was working.” You explained, as you reached up and brushed a piece of hair from out of his eyes, and reached forward and kissed the top of his head.

“Would you ever consider having kids one day?” he asked, and you were a little taken back about the question. You had never really thought about having kids, especially with the type of work that you and Peter did. Now that you thought about it, you would love to have kids one day, but when you were both ready to give their work up.

“Maybe one day, but for the time, we have a Groot to raise.” You commented with a small smile as you reached forwards and kissed his lips once more. “Let’s get back into bed, we have an early start tomorrow morning.” You explained, as you yawned. Peter nodded his head, as you got off him, and jumped into your side of the bed. When you were all snuggled in, you felt Peters arm around you, and you couldn’t help but smile. Life was just perfect.

22 Times Harry Styles Was a Little Shit

In honor of his 22nd birthday and also in honor of possibly the greatest Little Shit moment (aka The Tweet to end all Tweets “feeling 22″TM) of his life.

There are literally hundreds of moments to chose from, but here are moments where Harry Styles was a little shit to those around him. I feel personally attacked,

22) Poor Gemma is the long suffering victim of much of Harry’s Little Shit-ery

21) After he added the echo of “done done” to Stockholm Syndrome and made this face because he knew everyone’s reproductive bits just burst into flames.

Keep reading

Five Hundred Words *Jughead Jones x Reader*

Originally posted by imaginationworlds

Prompt: “Wait where is my homework?” 
“You did your homework?”
“Oh, yeah, right. I didn’t!”

Note:- This is my first, ever, try at writing Jughead, so, forgive me if I suck at this. I left the ending open for a possible second part, depending on if I am good at this and I get a good response, then I’ll write the second part. - Ro

You didn’t quite remember how the hanging out started, it sort of, just happened. No words were exchanged the first few times, it was comfortable silence and that’s really what you both like about one another; the silence. The easy and relaxing silence. The no need for useless conversation or forced interactions. He would be immersed in his writing, fingers typing quickly, and skillfully on the keyboard. Writing his inner thoughts and the town’s deepest secrets. You would be reading or drawing, little doodles of random things.

That’s why Jughead likes you. He doesn’t have to interact in order to be around you, he doesn’t have to speak or really listen, he just has to be there and you’re happy. It makes writing his novel easier, he doesn’t have to stop and talk or answer questions; he can just write and get on with it. That’s thing, though, he doesn’t have to, but then sometimes he wants to. Lately, he has started up conversations, it’s never normally lengthy or immersive but it’s little chats.

He’d ask about your drawings, mostly. You seemed more comfortable talking about your art than yourself, he noticed how twitchy you got when the topic of home or family was brought up, how you would smoothly transition to something else. After a few attempts, he eventually stopped asking, knowing how he’d hate it if someone kept pushing him on his predicament with “home” and “family”.

When you talked about your drawings, sketches and sometimes watercolours, you were a different person. The normal, reserved, shy and slightly weird girl was replaced with this passionate, smiley and confident girl. You carried a small sketchbook with you, everywhere, it was to jot down any muse you suddenly got. You never let anyone see the sketchbook, Jug, had a few glimpses but that’s about it. Like, everyone else, he only had the pleasure of seeing your art when it was fully done and on canvas or parchment paper. He understood that perfectionist of his writing, he doesn’t like when people ask to look at his stuff when it’s not 100% proofed for it.

Of course, he laughed at the cliche you two. The writer and the painter, two artists, who have broken souls and view the world through a warped, tinted window. You showing your view through illustration, graceful paint or pencil strokes, capturing the world in a still. And him, through the art of words, his view laid out and written down in carefully, constructed sentences. Two people who create, who are outsiders due to their lack of social skills, and yet, have found redemption of this by socialising with one another.

He usually hated cliches but he overlooked this one, just this once.

So, here you both are in the corner booth, as usual, at Pop’s. Two milkshakes in front of you, one chocolate and the other strawberry. Him with his laptop open, fingers typing down his recent findings of the murder mystery that haunted your pitiful town of, Riverdale. And you, red leather bound sketchbook open, two blank pages facing you. Pencil in your right hand as you stared out of the window, it was raining, making the window mist up.

Letting out a small, gentle sigh, you glance over to Jughead and watch him type for a few minutes. His raven hair that was peeking out from under the unique beanie, curled and fell into his face, he was too in his ‘zone’ to sweep it away. His green eyes swept across the screen, focus and determination behind them.

It was creeping late into the evening, you’d have to get going soon, you always hated leaving for some reason. You closed your sketchbook and opened your study books, frowning seeing no notes, or even your finished homework. That was extremely odd, you had math and science, where the hell was it? You’ve been at Pop’s since school ended.

“You going?” Jughead’s voice rang out. His eyes still glued to his screen, excessive typing but he knew whenever you shut your sketchbook it was home time.

You didn’t answer as you flipped through the many, blank, pages of the study. “Wait. Where’s my homework?” You asked with annoyance, looking around the table irritably.

“You did your homework?” Jughead raised his eyebrows, actually looking over the lid of his laptop to you, shock evident in his voice.

You both stared at one another, him not believing you had done it, whilst you were dead certain you did. Jughead’s mouth curved up into a smirk as realisation dawned on you, you didn’t do your homework, in fact, you didn’t do anything but sit in Pop’s drinking your milkshake.

“Oh, yeah, right. I didn’t!” You frowned and closed your books, Jughead could sense something was wrong but didn’t know if you wanted to talk or just suffer in silence, as usual. “But, yeah, I should get going home.” You shrugged lightly, an indication that you were fine.

He nodded, “Alright. I’m gonna use the restroom, then I’ll walk you home,” you chuckled at Jughead. “A killer is walking around, what type of person would I be if I just let you walk home alone,” you had to nod in agreement as he stood up and walked out of sight.

The weird feeling erupted in your stomach, you got this whenever you were alone with Jughead but it would simmer away, although it always came back when he offered to walk you home. It was weird, Jughead always walked you home, it was nothing new but yet, it was affecting you. You couldn’t possibly have a crush on Jughead, right? No, he’s your friend, you’d say best friend almost. Although, it’s rational, to develop a crush. You see and spend time with him every day, he’s like you and attractive.

He seemed to like your company. Jughead doesn’t tolerate anyone, if he has a problem or doesn’t like someone, they usually know about it. Hence the argument he had with Archie, his former best friend, who in which is trying to make amends with. So, obviously, he must like you to a degree, especially to spend every day with you! Going by all previous conversations, which are a handful you doubt that you or Jug would say anything to one another about feelings.

Noticing his open laptop an idea popped into your head. You were never, ever, this forward. Was this even being forward? You had to work fast.

When Jughead came back he closed his laptop and placed it neatly in his bag, offering a half smile and you got out of the booth, knowing full well that when he was at his place he’d see what you left. You only hoped that your act of regretful confidence would work out.

You had small chatter along the way, you complained about the weather, you hated when it rained it always shone through in your art. You don’t know what it is but the gloomy weather always made your muse a little dreary; you hated those pieces, yet the darker ones were often, Jughead’s favourite to look at when they were done. When you reached your home, you sighed at the parked cars, your parents are home; never good, especially when they’re home together.

“Night, Juggers,” You nudged his shoulder and he rolled his eyes at the nickname, it accumulated over milkshakes a few weeks back.

“Night, Y/N, meet at Pop’s for breakfast?” He asked already walking back towards the diner, he stayed there until closing, something, Pop, himself told you.  

You chuckled, “Sure.” Before walking into your house, as soon as, you opened the door you heard the yelling and sighed lightly before stalking towards your room.

Jughead, sat back in the booth, requesting a coffee as he opened his laptop once more. Keen to get this final thought down before it drifted away, only something caught his eye. A file on his desktop sat, titled ‘Read Me’, he opened it and skimmed through the document. 

Out of the five hundred words written, he only managed to comprehend the ones saying you liked him. A lot of the words were sentences of “I’m not good with words like you are.”, it made him chuckle. He frowned, normally people doing anything remotely related to feelings towards him would repulse him, yet you? It made him feel at ease. 

Five hundred words and he feels a weight lifted off of him and he didn’t know why. Well, he knew why but he wasn’t sure he was ready to admit it to himself! 

(God, this probably sucks. I am sorry if I wrote him wrong, I tried. At least, I tried, right? Let me know if I should do a part two, I am taking on Jughead and Archie requests, so feel free to leave an idea for me to write. - Ro) 
I didn’t tag because I have no idea if any of my taggers like Riverdale. 

If I do a part two, let me know by commenting on this if you wanna be tagged for it.

oydssey-deactivated20170608  asked:

oh my lord can you write little things or habits the marauders do that is cute or quirky. I'm trash for shit like that

eeeeekkk me too. (this is kind of gonna be messy)

  • James would eat breakfast every meal of the day if he could - Remus and Lily literally have to force him to eat things other than eggs, sausage, and toast.
  • Sirius cannot say no to a dare - like literally cannot say no. Someone dared him to ask McGonagall what she was doing that Friday night and if she’d like to accompany him to Hogsmeade - James and Remus kept him in a lip locking spell for a week.
  • Remus sneaks food into the library all the time. He doesn’t look like he would be that person, but the boys will be three hours into a night long cram session and Remus will suddenly whip out some chocolate (of course), a few bottles of pumpkin juice, and about four sandwiches per person (because he knows how indecisive James is and that he will end up taking half of every kind)
  • Lily cannot take James in his Quidditch robes. She just can’t deal he looks too good. Most people get excited for Quidditch for the game - James has taken to getting excited for after the game because of those post-match snogs behind the broom sheds (they’ve run into Remus and Sirius quite a few times now)
  • Sirius is the neatest eater ever. It’s probably due to his upbringing but he still makes perfect little bites with his perfectly held fork and knife. He hates it though and Remus is constantly taking him on midnight trips to the kitchens where he cuts them a huge slice of chocolate cake that they eat with their fingers (It’s actually very stress relieving)
  • James will put his arm around Lily during class and absentmindedly start twirling her hair around his finger (by the end of class Lily has one piece of especially curly hair due to him twisting it - she loves it.)
  • James receives so many packages from home and gives them to other students 99% of the time - usually nervous looking first years - because he likes watching their eyes light up when they receive a huge box full of sweets from the James Potter
  • Lily hits him every time he calls himself that
  • Peter always complains that James never gives him the sweets (there. there is a hc about Peter… selfish little git.)
  • When Remus is drunk he’ll randomly let out loud wolf howls
  • Sirius usually joins him and they run out to the black lake, howling and laughing (and snogging)
  • Every time they walk into Honeydukes James has a vision of proposing to Lily with one of the candy rings on display (he doesn’t get the courage until a few years later and Lily slaps him then kisses him when he does)

(I’ll probably post more of these later they’re fun :)

anonymous asked:

Hi! I'm new to the malec fandom and I was wondering if there are any fics that you highly recommend? Preferably on the longer side? Unfortunately my laptop is having issues and the link to your library isn't working on mobile :(

Hi! So both of us put together some of our personal faves, and both of us write fics ourselves so I’m gonna link our AO3′s in case you’re interested!

charl’s AO3 / elle’s AO3

charl’s picks: 

Binding Spell by Lemur710 ( PG | 1/1 | 7,880)

“He watched with a sadness he couldn’t define as Alec drained the last drop of his drink. A toast to the dying, he thought, and took another sip of his own. Magnus supposed Alec had stuck to their agreement: One more drink and then decide. He’d decided.”

This author’s take on the missing scene from 1x06 “Of Men and Angels”.

Angel’s Treasure by msalexiscriss ( PG13 | 20/20 | 83,495 )

AU. Alec and Magnus’s paths cross when they have to join forces to rescue Jace, Alec’s brother, from one of the most dangerous pirates of all times. What do a pirate and the son of an aristocrat have in common? Everything. Navigating mysterious waters, uncovering ancient secrets, and chasing maddened pirates, Magnus and Alec will discover that every storm can be weather if you just have the right person by your side. This is a tale of pirates, treasure and love.

Anything Verse by StarWitness42 ( Mature | 2/? | 105,840 )

(Anything) Magnus would do anything for Alec, and Alec doesn’t know what to do with that. / (Everything) With Valentine still at large, a crisis threatens to split the Shadow World in two, testing the loyalties of everyone on both sides of the line. But choosing between duty and honor, family and love is never easy, especially when war is on the horizon.

oh lover, hold on by fireblazie ( PG13 | 4/4 | 33,168)

The mask and goggles clatter to the ground. Isabelle makes a choked noise, and Jace whispers, paper-thin, “Alec?”

Magnus stops breathing as Alec’s gaze—cold, dead, and empty—comes to rest impassively on them.

“Who the hell is Alec?”

(Loosely based on Captain America: The Winter Soldier.)

Force of Nature by Lemur710 ( Mature | 1/1 | 5,844 )

A note from the past causes Magnus to contemplate the loves of his long life, and leads to an unexpected turning point in his relationship with Alec.

Or, Why Magnus Never Married


“Meaning well is not well enough,” Ragnor said to Magnus in some shabby French café several decades ago. “You remember what Simone said. ‘The danger is not that the soul doubts there’s any bread, but lest, by a lie, it persuades itself that it is not hungry.’ My dear friend, there is no bread. Do not pretend any of these well-meaning ‘acts of love’ feed that starving soul of yours.”

“That’s not exactly how she said it. I do believe you’re paraphrasing.”

“And you’re avoiding the issue, which I’ll allow because I’ve eaten too much and need to concentrate on digestion. But I hope you’re listening too.“

elle’s picks: 

Celebrity!Magnus AU by vulturemonem ( PG13 | 3/? | 32,919 )

When Magnus Bane, famous model-turned-fashion designer and beloved celebrity, meets NYC cop Alec Lightwood, sparks fly.

Dating someone from an entirely contrasting world is never easy, however, and negotiating the ups and downs of their relationship is certainly never going to get dull.

(Or: In which Magnus is a celebrity, Alec is his grumpy cop boyfriend, and sometimes, the world really hates them, even though they love each other to pieces.)

What’s It Gonna Be by lemonoclefox ( Mature | 4/4 | 49,338 )

Fairchild’s bakery is a second home to not just Magnus, but also to most of his found-family. As a pastry chef, he works long hours and takes great pride in his craft – so much so that he has little time or attention for much else. Least of all romance. After plenty of experience with heartbreak and disappointment, he has come to expect the worst from anything in that department, and the arrival of the wealthy Lightwoods in the neighborhood isn’t about to change that. Especially not when their eldest son might just be the most insufferable prick Magnus has ever met, no matter what anyone else has to say about the guy.

(aka the Pride & Prejudice/bakery AU no one asked for)

Kiss With A Fist by clockworkswan ( Mature | 26/26 | 240,899 )

When agent Alec Lightwood is given his first kill hit, he doesn’t expect much trouble. Of course, he also doesn’t expect it to be a cheerful assassin who lands him in a whole load of trouble.
Enter Magnus Bane: an assassin turned thief who reluctantly teams up with Alec - and The Clave - after he pisses off a very important and powerful crime boss, Valentine Morgenstern.
In a world of violence and unjust laws, can the two put aside their differences and work together?
Aka: in which Alec is sent to kill Magnus, doesn’t, and then really wishes he had. (but not really).
Enemies to friends to lovers.

Appassionato by Chonideno ( PG | 2/2 | 35,866 )

Alec plays the piano every day, with great talent. One night, a note slips under his door: it’s a request from an anonymous neighbor. Before he knows it, Alec picks up the habit of leaving his window open so his neighbor can listen to him. Requests keep coming. Slowly, two strangers start a conversation without words and let the music do the work for them.

night vision by serendipitiness ( Not Rated | 2/2 | 15,639 )

“N-no. No. No.” There were a thousand directions this could have taken, and this isn’t one. Shouldn’t be one. Alec is tripping over the words, his thoughts a mess because it’s true, his timer had been down to the last minutes when he’d closed his eyes and then now…

His soulmate is a stranger in the dark, someone without a face. A man.

(or how Alec finds his soulmate, inspired by the myth of Cupid and Psyche)

Man In Uniform {Part 4}

Fandom: Avengers/Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: N/A

Writer: @imaginesofeveryfandom aka @thequeenofthehobbits

Summary/Request: James Barnes is the local neighbourhood cop known for saving cats from trees and walking people home at night. It just so happens that he lives in your apartment building, in the apartment across from yours.

Prologue X, Part 1 X, Part 2 X, Part 3 X

Keep reading

title: wanted
rating: K+
characters/pairings: sakura, sasuke, naruto / mentions of sarada / implied sasusaku and naruhina
summary: in which sarada takes after her father and makes both of her parents very proud.
author’s note: this just a fun short little piece inspired by a headcanon i came up with a few days ago
disclaimer: naruto and its characters do not belong to me. all copy rights reserved to shonen jump, tv tokyo and kishimoto.

“Naruto, there’d be a good reason for me to be here, or Kami so help me, I’ll dismember you and feed your dick to Kurama.” Needless to say, Uchiha Sakura did not like to be disturbed on her way home from eight hours of stitching together recklessly injured shinobi. Especially not via a slimy toad blocking the door to her office, croaking miserably as she packed up her belongings for the day when she had planned on heading some to her husband and relaxing.

“What she said.” Sasuke wasn’t any more impressed with the blonde idiot. A rather large, mucus colored toad stuck to his left leg and croaked incessantly whenever he took a step in the wrong direction from the Hokage’s tower. He was tempted to just kill the little thing, but reasoned that he’d rather not have the Ero-Sennin haunt him from his grave, nor be sent to Mount Myoboku for a thousand years of toad-centered torture.

It was nearing 5PM and Naruto had called his beloved friends and former teammates into the Hokage’s office for what he designated to be an urgent meeting. Sasuke was convinced otherwise, seeing as they’d been here for ten minutes and Naruto had done nothing but make instant ramen and ask Shikamaru to remind him to pick up his dry-cleaning.

“Relax, Sakura-chan,” the blonde coaxed, stirring the cup ramen, “It is important, that’s why I called you.”

He glares at Sasuke as he catches a kunai between his fingers, twirls it and sends it flying towards the wall behind him, before giving Sasuke the middle finger. Impatient bastard.

He shifts a hefty stack of papers—what Sasuke presumes to be housing permits and budget plans, judging by the stamps—and reveals a large book in brown leather casing.

“Due to the growing trust and allegiance with the Five Kage, we’ve been able to create a bingo book the covers the span of all five nations,” he starts, “This is the newest edition and it doesn’t just list criminals; it prints commonly found flee-on-sight orders and bounty hunter posters.”

“So? You called us here for a bingo book, Naruto?” Sakura chides. The rosette was far from impressed; the hospital would surely receive the newest edition in a week’s time—why had Naruto interrupted her night of wine and bubble baths with her husband for the sake of a bingo book?

“Yes, actually,” he slurps his noodles in between speaking. “For one, both you and Teme are in it.”

The two Uchiha share a look, and stare back at their friend, unfazed by his news. Sakura’s been aware of the bounty on her head since the day she became Tsunade’s student—gang leaders, drug lords and rogue ninja would give just about anything to have her dead, given her impeccable medical mastery and ability to reduce any poison to water. Sasuke’s been wanted—criminal or not—since he was eleven years old.

“Not as criminals, of course,” he spoke to Sasuke. Naruto had worked long and hard to get him unlisted as a criminal in the bingo book, but like Sakura, he couldn’t help the hefty bounty on his head in exchange for his sharingan.

“Tch, get on with it, Naruto,” Sasuke growled, looking away from him and growing impatient.

“How about you wait three seconds and let me,” he snarled back. “You’d think you’d be a little more patient and willing to hear about matters concerning your own daughter.”

“What about Sarada?” Both asked in unison. Sasuke’s focus was sharp and deadly, Sakura’s head snapped up dangerously quickly; the Uchiha didn’t fuck around when it came to their only child.

Worst case scenarios flooded Sasuke’s mind. He knew he’d missed a large portion of Sarada’s childhood and prayed to Kami that his absence didn’t lead her to take the same blind and vengeful path he had—he figured it’d be nearly impossible; Sarada didn’t have the same dark ambitions he had as a teenager, even if he wasn’t around to fully raise her, Sakura was, and under no circumstances would she have lead their daughter down that dark road. It had to be impossible. Sarada was a well-ranked kunoichi by Konoha standards, Naruto even went so far as to call her the best in the village and name her Police Captain.

Come to think of it, Sarada had been out of the village for some time now. His seventeen-year-old daughter had embarked on a six-week long mission in Cloud. She’s leading a squad of ANBU and shinobi from the A-class Military Police Force to infiltrate the headquarters of mad scientist who’d been taking civilians and shinobi hostage from a nearby village, and performing experiments on them.

What if she’d been caught up with the scientist? Rumor had it that his man had some distant connection to Oorchimaru—had the old snake bastard planned on involving his daughter in the same disgusting mess of revenge and power that he’d done to Sasuke? Had the bingo book been updated and reprinted that recently?

“It seems like your daughter is quite feared by some,” Naruto flipped open the book, going to the “U” column, “Interestingly enough, she’s listed under all three categories: criminal, flee, and bounty.”

Sakura was deadly quiet, fists clenched and ears open. Her little Sarada was not a criminal. Whatever was printed in that bingo book must be a mistake—a ploy from a rival village to get back at her and Sasuke by framing their daughter.

Naruto flipped the book around, letting Sakura and Sasuke take a look at Sarada’s profile. Her name had been listed on over twenty-two flee-on-sight orders from various villages and gangs, as well as several hefty bounties on her head. And sure enough, the Village Hidden in the Shadows had listed her as a criminal, charged with killing their ruler.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about the criminal warning, Sakura-chan—the Village Hidden in the Shadows has no real connection or allegiance with any of the five major countries, and person Sarada killed that they claim as their ruler was a criminal himself, some sick child molester,” Naruto explained, “This is just a rough draft, I’ll have it cleared up with Gaara and the others.”

The coupled nodded and continued to flip through Sarada’s section of the book. Twenty-seven. Uchiha Sarada was seventeen-years-old and had twenty-two flee-on-sight orders in thirteen villages and five bounties on her head.

Sakura opened the binder spine, and carefully picked up a slightly yellow sheet of paper, and held it closely.


Hidden Leaf Village Ninja • Rank: Jounin
17 years old. 5 foot, 3 inches • Black hair, black eyes


Captain of the Konoha Military Police Force. Heir of Dr. Haurno Sakura and Uchiha Sasuke. Wields the sharingan of the Uchiha clan. If forced to engage in combat, do not make direct eye contact.

Commonly found with the following ninja; do not engage in combat or threaten:

Uzumaki Boruto
18, blonde hair, blue eyes, two whisker marks on either cheek; son of Uzumaki Naruto, Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village.

18, blue hair, gold eyes; son of Sannin-nin Oorchimaru.

Sarutobi Konohamaru
26, brown hair, blue eyes; grandson of the Third Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village.


The other twenty-one flyers read similar messages, some labelling Sarada as a ss-rank ninja, warning not to be within so much as 400 feet of her at any given time. The bounty flyers listed her name, age, weight, parents and sum for the head, dead or alive, set at 3.4 million ryo or more.

Sasuke blinked carefully, scanning the paper in his hand and those in the binder. He knew Sarada would eventually collect a bounty on her head—it was a conversation he and Sakura had had too many times before. They were both well aware of the status and power they possessed, and that which Sarada held as well; they knew that others would seek out their daughter and her kekkei genkai for a reward. They never expected, however, for that price to be well over a million ryo.

“You two did well,” Naruto grins, “Sarada’s pretty badass. Of course, the bounty on Boruto tops 4 million, but he is the son of the greatest Hokage ever.”

“Cha! That’s my baby! Make those little boys cry, Sarada!” Sakura cheered. She couldn’t wait to tell little Ino-pig; she bets her wimp ass son didn’t have a single flee-on-sight order.

Sasuke kept quiet, but the grin on his face spoke a thousand words. That’s my little girl.

Gemini / Sirius x Reader

Requested, Sirius and James’s twin. This is fun little 2AM, black tea induced word vomit fiesta but I sort of liked writing it so that’s always a thrill! Also I didn’t edit this very thoroughly so if you see any mistakes fell free to tell me!

Sunlight is a truly awful thing. Especially when it greets one at six o’clock on a Saturday morning when Y/N thought she ought to have been sleeping. It is made even worse when combined with a particularly poignant headache that could be attributed to nothing other than the copious amounts of alcohol consumed by Y/N herself, her brother James, Lily Evans and Sirius Black.

 “Hmf, Y/N, you alive?” The girl grumbles her response, “What the bloody fuck are you doing in here?” A head of dark curls appears over the side of the bed, grinning despite a raging hangover, “Well that’s no way to greet your lover.”

Keep reading

“Ruuuuuuby. Good morning, my little chicklet!” Summer sang, lifting her baby girl from her crib and into her arms.

Ruby cooed, glad to see Summer’s cheery face. Summer grabbed her little floral binkie from the dresser in her room and waltz out into the living room, gently swaying the infant in her arms.

Summer glanced into the kitchen, hearing dishwear shifting and the smell of coffee brewing. Her face perked up to see her favorite man leaning his back against the counters, rubbing sleep from his face.

“Qrow!” She cheered, trying to keep her voice close to a whisper as to not spook Ruby.

Qrow didn’t turn his head, but Summer could hear a chuckle come from him.

“Short-Stack. Morning.”

Summer noticed how exhausted he looked. Normally he was clad in his huntsmen clothes and gear, but for the first time since his paternity leave ended, she saw him clad in a pair of plain dark jeans and a black hoodie.

Ruby shifted her weight away from Summer, reaching for her father. Summer smiled, walking toward Qrow to appease their child. She cleared her throat, grabbing his attention. A gentle, warm smile crossed his lips, shifting his own weight to address his little Ruby.

“When did you get back?” 

Qrow snuggled into Ruby’s hair gently, cupping her from underneath as to hold her in some regards with Summer. “About half an hour ago. I’m super beat…’been up all night. If I go to sleep now, though, I’ll be thrown off from the rest of you.”

Summer stood on her toes, kissing his cheek and showing her sympathy.

“Sorry. On the bright side…” Summer’s eyes trailed down to Ruby, silver looking into silver. Summer saw Qrow nod out of the corner of her eye.

“I missed you two.”

“We missed you, too.”

Locking eyes with her husband once more, they shared a tender kiss after being separated for about two weeks.

Ruby fussed, crying under her pacifier.

“Now, now, Petal, no need for that. Daddy’s here. Mommy and Daddy didn’t forget about you.” Qrow continued his snuggle against his daughter’s feathery hair, kissing her gently.

Summer decided to sneak a peck on Ruby’s rosy cheek, feeling an immense joy from having her family back in one piece again. Ruby giggled, sharing her mother and fathers happiness.

Summer looked up at Qrow once more, leaning against him ever so slightly.

“Welcome home, Qrow.”

“Yeah…I’m home.”

I’ll color this later.

Someone wanted Qrow and Summer kissing Ruby’s cheek and this is kind of it? I love me some Hummingbird parents. Cutest dang thing in the whole world.

Summer and Qrow spend so much time spoiling their baby girl with snuggles, hugs, and kisses. She is their precious little Branwen Princess and she will always be showered with love. Daddy especially spoils her, since he has such limited time with her.

If Qrow ends up taking a nap later, he’ll only do it if Petal naps with him.

anonymous asked:

Could you write a scenario where boys' toddler child comes to them to show a drawing of boys and their children together? (I hope you get what I mean). I'd like this scenario with Leon, Kokichi, Korekiyo, Nagito and Byakuya, if it's okay for you

No problem amigo! Behold! Toddler art! In a ficlet format! Also C/N = Child’s name

Request: Leon, Kokichi, Korekiyo, Nagito and Byakuya - Toddler drawing

Leon Kuwata

Leon leaned back, upside down on the sofa. In his hand rolled a baseball, while the other was flicking over his little goatee. I better shave again soon… His hand travelled over his jaw and felt the rough against his skin. Couldn’t lose his style now could he.

On the other side of the room C/N sat, crayons in hand and pieces of paper littered across the floor. Leon didn’t know how C/N could keep it up for so long - they had a longer attention spam than him that’s for sure.

Soon he returned to tossing the baseball one handed up and down, as the blood ran to his head. He began to slide off of the sofa, as C/N turned around and grinned at him.

“Hm? C/N what’s up? What’ve ya drawn?”

He took the paper from C/N’s little hands and his jaw dropped. “Oh my god!! Is this us?!” C/N grinned and nodded, pointing at the two figures.

“Me, and Da-da!”

He wants it framed.

Leon is praising C/N again and again, not taking his eyes off of the drawing for a second. Okay the drawing wasn’t gallery worthy but it was definitely amazing in Leon’s books.

Just keeps looking at it and smiling and when you come home you find Leon watching your child drawing with a new-found interest.

Kokichi Ouma

Ouma was channel surfing. You’d gone out for a bit to get some shopping, leaving Ouma baby sitting. He would watch the toddler as it threw pieces of paper aside. Clearly they’re not up to standard.

He soon lost interest in the papers being thrown across the floor. He accepted he would have to tidy it later. His attention returned to the TV, where some people were babbling about politics and making digs at each other. Ughhh so many liars.

He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes for a bit.


Ouma opened his eyes lazily, focussing on the paper being shoved in his face.

“It’s us! Do you like ittttt?”

Ouma took it out of C/N’s hands and literally squeaked.

“I love it C/N!!!”

He is running around staring at the drawing, making C/N giggle and try to chase him.

Seconds later you walk through the door and he’s shoving it in your face.


You nod and blink a few times before laughing at his glee.

“C/N come here! Look look, it’s having pride of place on the fridge!”

Ouma plants the drawing on the top of the fridge with a few magnets and points at it

Korekiyo Shinguji

He was researching folktales and your toddler was sat at the table opposite him. Korekiyo was completely engrossed in the books, not really paying attention to C/N.

Every now and again he would reach down to grab a discarded crayon. The giggles as he handed it back make him smile, but he didn’t stop to study what C/N was drawing.

Each crayon was being used until it was run down blunt. Korekiyo started mumbling to himself as he read, so engrossed he doesn’t notice the piece of paper being pushed toward him.

“Da-da! Da-da look!”

He looked at the paper and it took him a minute. Wait… Is that me? The little details made it identifiable, the wraps on his hands, the longer hair.

He’s really flattered, especially how long C/N had taken drawing it. Just stays quiet looking at it for a while, before pulling his mask down and smiling at C/N.

“It’s beautiful C/N, I’ll keep it close always,”

You end up coming home that evening to C/N asleep on Korekiyo, the drawing in one hand and his other around the little toddler atop him.

You don’t have the will power to move either of them so just crash on the couch.

Nagito Komaeda

Nagito was dozing on the sofa, chest rising and falling in the evening sun. C/N was on the floor beside him, continually tugging at his sleeve to show him what he’d drawn. He would awake, nod and smile and pass a half praise before dozing off again.

He was still half asleep when C/N’s tugging became more insistant.

“C/N… What’ve you drawn, let’s have a look,”

He takes it off of C/N, and stares at it for a while.

“Ahaha! C/N it’s us! That’s adorable,”

He leans over and pulls C/N into his lap. “Shall I do one for you too?” C/N is giggling and nodding, and Komaeda picks up his own piece of paper and a crayon and begins to do a little drawing of his own.

He does a little trade with C/N, and kissed them on the head.

“My drawing is trash compared to yours though C/N, you know?”

C/N is smiling and hugging the drawing to their chest.

“Do you want to frame them C/N? Your drawing is definitely worth framing on the wall,”

You return to see a series of framed drawings along the wall featuring either Komaeda and C/N or the whole family. Seeing a bit of favouritism here…

Byakuya Togami

Togami had been behind the desk for hours, leaving C/N to occupy themself in the office. He’d given them a few pens and old bills to draw on, while leaving them to it. Though now the continuous work was getting to him, as he ran a hand over his forehead and placed his pen down.

C/N was on the floor, totally focussed on the drawing on the paper. Togami sat at the desk for a while and watched as they drew, unable to actually see what was going to be drawn from the angle he was at.

He wrote a few more things down before he called it quits on work.

“C/N, what are you drawing?”

He walked over to them and crouched down. C/N looked up to him and grinned, before passing him the drawing.

Byakuya Togami is actually speechless. Sure it’s not the work of an artistic prodigy but in his eyes it’s ten times better.

He kisses C/N’s head and picks them up, sitting behind the desk again. “Say, C/N where would you want this framed on my desk?”

Togami and C/N were working on the best frame for the drawing when you returned, and it was the most heartwarming thing you’d seen in a while.

(Sorry if this deteriorated…. I’ve been working on it for a while…)

Amour de ma vie | Jungkook

(n.) love of my life


Summary: Jungkook misses an important tradition but he definitely makes up for it.

Genre: fluff, kinda wedding au?

Words: 3.8k 

Pairing: jungkook x reader 

Title credit goes to @aryakiel

The sun hangs low in the sky, a vast dome of skittering orange and rubescent reds, streaking across pearly clouds and colouring the horizon with a tinge of yellow and a pint of beauty. You watch as the sun dips gradually below the edge, the floor of the heavens decorated with shades of glistening apricots, tinted with blushes of rose pink all saturated by the presence of the signature red of a remarkable sunset.
It’s a beautiful sight, and you could’ve spent eternity leaning on your balcony railing, mesmerised by the simplistic elegance of the universe.

Your mind flashes back to the first sunset you witnessed on that very balcony, similarly clutching a mug of the same tea, a book lying on the table next to you, patiently waiting for you to come back to it after witnessing a sight worthy of all the marvels in the world. The only puzzle missing from the picture was Jungkook, he’d been with you then, admiring the view as the fading sunlight gave his face a tangerine glow, and he’d been with you every sunset since then, marking a sort of tradition that you’d begin to follow religiously; winter sunsets are never to be missed, and he kept true to it, spending every December evening with you, even proposing to you under the fading daylight, eyes shining with hopefulness and love enough to rival the brightness of the sun.

This is the first time, in the last three years, that you are watching a sunset alone. Of course, you aren’t counting the time he had to rush back to Busan for an emergency, or the time your cousin called you the evening before her wedding last year and begged you to pick up a bouquet of flowers for her fiancé, seeing as she was filing her nails and couldn’t possibly go out in such a wild stature (that marriage didn’t last long). You pick at the paint on the railing, and trace around the elegant ring on your finger, wondering how long it’ll be before Jungkook comes home, he’d left early that morning, saying he had “a lot of preparations” to make.

Boisterous winds shuffle through trees, the chill they carry slicing at your skin, but you’re able to garner enough warmth from the light of the dying sun, and it’s not until another hour later that you finally decide to go back inside, cold seeping in through the holes in your sweater and settling against your skin with an icy greeting. It’s cosy inside, and you settle comfortably on the plush cushions, thanking the heavens for Jungkook’s recent obsessions with fireplaces. The cushions encase your body in a lather of homeliness, the subtle scent that emanates from them so familiar; you’re laughing at yourself, wondering just how whipped for you are for that boy that you’re cuddling with the cushions just because they have his scent on them.

Jungkook smells like the aroma of fresh grass, a delicate fragrance of petals that are too beautiful to exist, he reminds you of the elixir of freshly picked berries, the little flowers that bloom at roadsides, and cosy corners tucked away in a secret world, closed to the illusions of reality, and swirling in the flavour of the stars. He’s only been gone since the morning, and yet you miss him like he’s taken away a piece of your soul. It’s not normal for you to miss him like this, especially since it’s been only twelve hours since you last saw him, and you know he’ll be home soon, and yet, these cushions held more than his fragrance, they held precious memories of petty arguments and loving words and heated kisses amidst crazy movie nights that never fail to bring a smile on your face and it’s this inkling that’s lacing its way through your mind that something is going to change tonight, you don’t know what it is, but you know tonight is important.

The clock ticks towards nine, and you’re wondering if he plans on coming home at all, it’s too late for him to still be working, you sigh, and waddle to the kitchen in your - technically, his - clothes whooshing with the wind. The night seeps in through the open balcony, and the warmth of the fire mixes with the cold of the dark above, you sniffle, holding back the cold and pull out a cake from the fridge, eyes widening when you realise it hadn’t been touched yet. Such an injustice to cakes you think, wondering why you’re stuck with a fiancé who has no respect for cakes whatsoever, how dare he let it lie in the cold like this? Hmph.

You cut out a slice and slip back to the couch, switching through the channels on the television and mentally commenting on everything you see, when a sharp ting echoes from your phone and you lean over to see a text from Jungkook.

Hey love, I’m so sorry but I’ll be home really late tonight, things are pretty hectic here. Don’t wait up for me babe, sleep tight :)

You’re about to reply, heart sinking like it’s being pulled by a sandbag, when another text flashes across your screen.

P.S. I’m sorry about the sunset, I’ll make it up to you. You still like chocolate chip kookies right?

It’s hard not to laugh at his deliberate change of spelling as you type back a reply. He never fails to make you laugh, but it only makes you miss him more. It’s normal for him to spend the entire day working, and you have classes to attend as well, but you rarely miss sunsets together and it’s tugging at your heartstrings with a twang that is frequently harmonised by Jungkook’s own beating heart, but now, it echoes into the empty silence of your soul, and you’re staring at the moving figures on the tv screen, a sense of loneliness and dreadful longing cocooning you in a shell, much like a terrified little turtle, seeking protection within itself.

You look at the empty seat next to you, and gosh you miss him so much. It’s unnatural to miss him like this, especially when you’ll see him in a few hours, when he lives with you for gods sake. But the strange inkling that there’s something different about tonight is ever present in the far corners of your mind, nagging at your consciousness, desperate for attention.

You crawl into bed close to midnight, exhausted from the three essays you’d completed, maybe there is a bright side to Jungkook leaving you alone for the day, at least you’ll be more productive without that human size distraction that you adore. There are a couple more texts from him, asking about your essays, and you giggle when he regales you with a story of how Taehyung dropped the orange juice all over his shirt while trying to impress a girl. Apparently the girl wasn’t impressed. It takes a few minutes before you realise you’re keeping him from working, but he’s the one forcing you to go to bed with promises of waking up to chocolate chip cookies. 

Strangely enough, sleep doesn’t evade you for long, and you fall asleep in minutes, oblivious to the roaring winds of winter clamouring outside your window.

It’s a windy night, trees swish elegantly against the darkness, outlined by the shimmering street lights as mice scatter into alleyways, buildings tall and silent as the city sleeps, the dead of the night its way through time. You haven’t been asleep very long when your phone rings, harshly cutting through the tranquility of your bedroom; you sit up with a jolt, shuffling about to reach for your phone and squinting at the bright screen before frowning and picking up Jungkook’s call, “Hey,”

His voice filters through your phone as calmly as ever, “Hey, did I wake you?”

“Well yes, but no worries. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, but you do need to do something for me,” He sounds cautious, almost as if he’s afraid of saying too much. Your frown deepens, he rarely hides matters from you.

“Go ahead,” you tread the waters just as cautiously, sensing his hesitance even over the phone, “What do you need?”

“I need you to get dressed and drive to the football stadium on fifth street in the next ten minutes,” He says this all very quickly, in one breath, as if it’s a secret he’s been wanting to tell you since the beginning of time. You straighten up, your eyebrows arching high, “Uh… what?”

“You heard it right love. Get dressed and come down to the stadium on fifth,” He sounds a little shaky, nervous, and you’re wondering what on earth he has planned while you nod and say, “Okay. Ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes,” He confirms, there’s a pause and you can hear him take a breath, but he doesn’t say anything else and the line goes dead. You check the time, it’s half past one. A slow grin forms on your face, whatever Jungkook has planned, he definitely planned it to take place at your favourite time of the night, the dead centre of the darkness that takes over from the sunset till the sunrise, the minute before the clock strikes two.

You’ve never dressed so quickly, and it’s a blessing that it’s so late and the streets are mostly empty, your car streaks through the roads, tires straining against the asphalt with a screeching noise enough to wake up a dozen dozing buildings. 

Even with the roads miraculously empty, you still make it there five minutes later than ten minutes, and run into the stadium, not even pausing to wonder why the entrance door was wide open, neither did you notice another familiar car parked next to yours.

You turn a corridor, and bump head first into Hoseok’s chest, making him laugh, “Woah there! Calm down, he’s not going anywhere,”

“Well yes but I’m late” You pant out, still trying to get past him, not even bothering to ask what Hoseok is also doing in the stadium at this time of the night.

“Actually, no, you’re right on time. Go through there, Jungkook’s been dying with anxiety,” Hoseok points towards another door behind you, “It leads right out to the field,”

You head for the door but stop suddenly, turning around to ask him what he meant when he said Jungkook’s been dying with anxiety, but Hoseok was gone, as if he’d never even been there in the first place. You make to push open the door, ardent desire building up a tornado of yearning to see Jungkook as if you hadn’t seen him for countless millennia, your fingers rest on the handle, itching to feel his hair, soft and fluffy underneath them; you want to see him, right now, and yet you don’t open the door, that inkling that there is something about to change your life tonight is leading to an antsy bead of sweat trickle down your neck, but you shake off the feeling, this is Jungkook, and he’d only do whatever is right for the both of you.

You push open the door, and walk in to darkness.

You knew instantly you were on the field, gusts of cold wind chafe against your cheeks, you reach out blindly in the darkness and find a wall to your right, and begin walking along it. You feel your sandalled feet step on grass, and a hundred little lamps glow to life, scattered around the field in no particular pattern, but decorating the dark green shine of the grounds with pale yellow lustre and hints of a cardinal red and vermilion shimmering into the atmosphere, the grass looked breathtaking, as if each strand had a phosphorescent gleam to it. The colours that spread over the night looked achingly familiar, although you couldn’t pinpoint it exactly.

The stands are empty, and unseen in semi-darkness. The field however, is bright enough for you to see the centre of the ground, where Jungkook stood waiting. The smile on your face when you looked upon the lights only grew as you walked closer, he was dressed in a denim jacket underneath which lay a white t shirt and dark blue jeans, paired with his trademark boots, and a wide grin to match with yours. Jungkook looked at you as if he was looking at the reason why the stars shone, he looked excited, but you know him better, and the tinge of nervousness in his grin was not missed.

As you get closer, you break into a run, laughing a little at his confused face before he held his arms open, seconds later they were closed snugly around your frame, hugging the life out of you, and it’s then that you get the sense that maybe, he’s been irrationally missing you too. Jungkook buries his face in your hair, expecting the smell of blueberries that your shampoo tends to irritate him with, before pulling back and frowning, “You changed your shampoo?”

A blush creeps onto your cheeks, and you suddenly become very interested in examining the grass, “Um, no I just-…I just used yours today”

He laughs, and the sound glides into the air with the grace of a swan, music to your ears and warmth to your heart, “Missed me, didn’t you?”

You scoff, hitting his shoulder lightly, “Pfft, of course not. But why are we here? At this time of the night?”

Jungkook’s smile fades, and the nervousness in his eyes comes to light again,  "Ah yes, about that,“ he fiddles with the ring on your finger, almost absentmindedly, but you know he’s probably scrutinising every detail on the pretty metal, “Do you remember when you said you’d like a runaway wedding?”

Your eyes widen, “Kook, what-.. I mean, yes of course, I remember,”

Jungkook’s palm reaches for yours, and it’s a perfect fit, as if fate had tailored your bodies together, “Do you still want it? That thrill of doing it in secret?”

“And then running off to Venice?” You question, meaning it as a joke, but Jungkook nods, expression serious and promising, “Of course,”

You don’t hesitate, a slow smile taking birth on the curves of your cheeks into a wide veil of delight, “Yes, I still want it,”

The nervous presence in his eyes vanishes when he looks at your beaming face, and a similar expression graces his well defined structure, a small part of your heart beats faster at the sight of Jungkook looking so genuinely overcome with glee. He looks too ethereal, the light of the lamps bouncing off his cheekbones and creating shimmers of golden yellow around you both, encasing you in a happy glow, you lean up to kiss him but he shakes his head, “Well then, turn around,”

You do so, and a small laugh escapes your mouth, “You actually got a priest?!”

He shushes you, eyes swimming with anticipation, “We don’t want an illegal wedding, do we?”

You shake your head, still laughing as you watch Hoseok escort the priest to you, a slight bounce in his step that marks his skill as as dancer, and face beaming as he chats animatedly with the man in white robes. You look at Jungkook, and a surge of heartfelt love fills your chest. He did all of this, just to satisfy your whim of an adventure, and was actually nervous about it, how much more precious does this boy get?

The priest conducts the ceremony in less than five minutes, and it’s time for your vows sooner than you think; it’s only because of Jungkook’s tight grip on your hand and Hoseok’s constant checking of his watch that you realise you’re on a strict schedule. Jungkook turns to face you then, beginning his vows and all thoughts rush out of your head when your eyes meet his, and for a moment, the earth is spinning out of view, leaving you both hovering in endless space, the galaxy a witness to your love. It’s when he speaks that you are grounded again, his voice flowing through your senses as with every word you feel your pulse rate increase, and the depths of your soul begin to chant a rhyme of forever when you drown in his eyes, finding eternity in them.

“… until death do us part,” Jungkook finishes, smiling at your goldfish-like stare, prodding at your shoulder to bring you back to reality.

You rush through your vows, because as long as you’d known Jungkook, you still can’t help but blush like a schoolgirl when he looks at you like this, as if he’s mesmerised by the very thought of you. Hoseok stands to the side, grinning like a cute puppy given a new toy to play with, watching you both fall deeper into the hole you’d dug in each other’s hearts.

“… you may kiss the bride,” the priest finishes, a faint smile evident on his face. Jungkook leans down, eyelashes fluttering against your forehead, and you let out a sigh of immense satisfaction when he finally kisses you, holding you up to his height so your feet are dangling off the ground, your weight on his shoulders, his arms secured around your body, gripping onto your waist like it’s the last time he’s going to kiss you, which is ironic because you’re sure you were just bonded for life; however, you kiss him back just as fervently, feeling him smile against your lips and it makes you indulge in the rush of felicity pulsing through every molecule in your body, every inch of your skin glowing with the sort of contentment that comes only with true love. 

When you pull away, he rests his forehead on yours, mouth curved up in the trademark bunny smile that you adore to the ends of the earth, “I love you,”

A string inside you snaps, and a surge of ardour wraps your beating heart, devoting itself to Jungkook’s, “I love you,” you respond, placing another soft kiss to his cheek, “So much,”

He melts into your hold, nuzzling his face into your neck, “Shall we go then?”

You pull away, a little confused, “Right now?”

Jungkook tilts his head, a smug smirk gracing his features, “Right now.”

Your half open mouth realises it needs to close, and so it does, but not after the fair amount of cursing under your breath because you seem to have underestimated his reckless streak, maybe he could even challenge you for the crown that you so preciously hold.
You thank the priest, and watch as Hoseok leads him off the field, then turn back to Jungkook, “How exactly do you plan on going to Venice?”

He brushes a lock of your hair behind your ear, “First, we go to the moon,”

You laugh, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, pecking the skin there gently, “And I suppose we drive there?”

“Obviously,” He rolls his eyes, “Of course we drive to the moon,”

You shake your head in laughter as his fingers come up to caress your cheek, and his face is impossibly close yet there’s an infinite distance separating you; invisible particles bathed in amber light hover in between you both, hanging in the air, suspended, constant, just… there; it reminds you of the love you share, the ardent passion that holds you both so unfathomably close, never budging from the staunch adoration, hanging in the air just like particles suspended, eternal, it just is

Jungkook’s fingers outline your face, touching you gently, preciously, lovingly, you want to melt into his arms and let him hold you forever, that familiar scent of starlight hazing your consciousness.

You see the devotion in his eyes, his touch, his words and everything he ever does for you, from the time he drove you all the five hours back to your hometown just to visit your ailing sister, to the time he held you for six days and six nights as you sobbed into his chest after her funeral, and the time he baked a cake for your 21st birthday, making sure to design pandas into it, the time he let you sit on his shoulders and shoot balls through the basket, letting out a cry of “That’s my girl!” every time you scored a hoop, the time he bandaged your foot after you stepped on broken glass courtesy of an unmindful Taehyung, and the sunset last month, when he proposed to you under dainty snowflakes and the bisque atmosphere of evening light.

Jungkook’s eyes gaze into your mind, like he’s able to glimpse everything going on in that messy head of yours; he holds you carefully, like a priceless gift he’s afraid of breaking, fingers running through your hair in a calming gesture, and then brushing down your arms warming up every inch of the skin they touch against the cold winter night; his expression changes suddenly, as if he’d forgotten something and he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small white bag of chocolate chip cookies, making you squeal in excitement, “You actually got them?! I love you!” And throwing your arms around his neck, you pepper his face in kisses as he laughs at your love for the food.

You reach for the bag but he holds up a finger, shaking his head no, and you pout, “Just one?”

“Save them for the trip,” He says, “We have a long drive ahead,”

You tilt your head, “We do?”

“The moon isn’t exactly next door is it?”

“Fine fine,” you grumble, still eyeing the bag with longing. Jungkook chuckles and puts it back in his jacket, “To save you from the temptation,”

You flick your hair, “I am perfectly capable of self-control Jeon, I don’t need saving,”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, smiling amusedly, “I’m sure you don’t.”

You lean into his touch, and in the distance you can hear Hoseok shouting something about time and car keys as he jogs back onto the field, but really, all you can focus on is the tightening of your chest when you look at Jungkook’s face, your palm resting on his cheek, the new simple wedding ring glistening under the familiar austere shine of the lamps around, and it hits you. 

This was the closest Jungkook could come to recreating the sunset aura; the lamps scattered around the field, projecting the significant shades of daylight’s end in curtains of smooth orange glow, blended out with ever present red and glorious chrome fading into the endless space of the sky above, Jungkook captured your favourite moments of light and darkness, dusk and the dead of the night.

Your heart swells with zealous bursts of intimate fondess, Jungkook is everything you have ever wanted, or could want, and he is everything you will want. Your eyes flutter shut when he kisses you again, but not before you glimpse the watch on his wrist, moonlight breaking in through the cracked glass cover and highlighting the time of the night. You smile to yourself as you kiss him back, it’s exactly 1:59.

Seijou Pick-up lines 101

Do not question me for making this post, I was high on lactose. A little post on what types of Pick-up lines I think the Seijou boys would say, of course, there will be examples ;) I just found them on different websites and put them together. Some are mine though, at least I think they are, I wouldn’t know, would I now?

- Oikawa -

Type of pick-up lines: Dirty, Funny, Cheesy, Bad, Sweet [Occasionally]

  • “I’m like a firefighter, I find them hot and leave them wet.”
  • “You must be Medusa because you make me rock hard.”
  • “Call me leaves, cause you should be blowing me.”
  • “There are 8 planets in the universe, but only 7 after I destroy Uranus.”
  • “I’ll treat you like my homework: Slam you on the table and do you all night long!”
  • “I like every bone in your body, especially mine.”
  • “You know what I like in a guy? My dick.”
  • “You’re like my little toe, because I’m going to bang you on every piece of furniture in my home.”
  • “You’re on my list of things to do tonight.”
  • “The only reason I would kick you out of bed would be to fuck you on the floor.”
  • “So, what are the chances of my balls slappin’ your ass tonight?”  
  • “My dick’s been feeling a little dead lately. Wanna give it some mouth-to-mouth?” 
  • “You look familiar, didn’t we take a class together? I could’ve sworn we had chemistry.”
  • “Of all your beautiful curves, your smile is my favourite.”
  • “You look cold. Want to use me as a blanket?”

- Matsukawa -

Type of pick-up lines: Dirty, Funny. Bad

  • “Can you help me with my science assignment? I need to know how to get to Uranus.”
  • “Are you flappy bird? Cause I could tap you all night.”
  • “Did you get those pants at 50% off? Cause they are 100% off at my place!”
  • “Do you know your ABC’s? Cause I wanna give you the 4th letter of the alphabet.”
  • “I might not go down in history, but I’ll must definitely go down on you.”
  • “What’s the speed limit of sex? [what?] 68. Because at 69 YOU have to turn around!”
  • “I’m like Domino’s Pizza. If I don’t come in 30 minutes, the next one is free.”

- Hanamaki -

Type of pick-up lines: Dirty, Funny, Bad

  • “The fact that I’m missing my teeth just means that there’s more room for your tongue. “ 
  • “If you were a squirrel, would you help me bust a nut?”
  • “Do you have a shovel in that back pocket? Cause boy, I’m digging that ass! “
  • “Are you a tortilla? Because I want to flip you over and eat you out!”
  • “You know why I am like a squirrel? Cause I want to bury my nuts in you.”
  • “Life is like a dick. When it gets hard, you go fuck it.”

- Iwaizumi -

Type of pick-up lines: Sad, Sweet, [Personally, I don’t think Iwa is the type to say them, rather he keeps it all in]

  • “If I were a cat i’d spend all 9 lives with you.”
  • “I should call you Google, because you have everything I’m looking for.”
  • “I didn’t really believe in love at first sight, until I saw you.”
  • “If you were a basketball, I’d never shoot. Because I’d always miss you.”
  • “You’ll always be my first and only. Even if I aren’t you’re last.”
  • “You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”
  • “When I look into your eyes, it is like a gateway into the world of which I want to be a part of.”
  • “I know somebody who likes you, if only I were brave enough, I’d tell you who.”
  • “Your smile is the very reason why I try, yet another drug that’s killing me inside.”

Why am I such a slut for angst :D

New to Him

An Ed Sheeran One Shot
A request for Ed losing his virginity to you

Word Count: 7,494


“Ed come look.”

You’d been pestering him to join you at the window for the last five minutes but he was too occupied on his laptop, his socked feet propped up on the coffee table.  When you glanced over your shoulder at him he brought his blue eyes up from the screen, the light reflected in his glasses.

“Babe I’ve seen the wind blowing plenty of times,” he said, choosing to stay put on the sofa with his red Beats headphones draped around his neck.

“But this is a really bad storm,” you countered, looking back out the window straight across from where he was lounging, “oh shit that tree is definitely gonna come down at some point.”

Ed chuckled when you got distracted by the weather but still clicked away on his Mac.  He’d been spending a lot of his free time working on his new music, and though you supported him and his work, it got to be annoying on the only nights you had together.  Of course he wouldn’t spend the entire time on the computer, but a good chunk of it.

“Fine,” you finally sighed, walking over to the sofa and plopping down hard beside him, “you’re so boring when you’re working.”

Ed sighed when you rested your head against his shoulder.

“No offense.  I guess.”

You knew he’d eventually stop working and the two of you could at least watch a movie together, but for the time being you were bored just sitting there beside him, your head pressed to his shoulder.  

“Your hair smells good,” he said out of nowhere, his voice a little raspy since he’d previously been so quiet.

He was always throwing those little compliments at you, whether they were about your hair or what you were wearing and it was so sweet the way he’d do it when you least expected it.  

With a smile you gave his arm a gentle rub before the wind came blowing hard and rattled the windows.  The storm had been expected since the beginning of the week and Ed had previously asked if you wanted to be locked in with him, since he was off, or was supposed to be, and he wanted to spend time with you. Of course you agreed and the two of you went out to gather supplies for the storm, like candles and batteries for flashlights in case of a power outage, and of course plenty of food and snacks.

“What are we gonna do if the power goes out?” You asked him and he shrugged with his mouth in a pout before he seemed to have some sort of epiphany.  

His blue eyes lit up and he smiled wide.

Keep reading

Klaine fic - “Need for Speed” (Rated NC17)

Kurt Hummel moves from California to Lima after his dad’s heart attack causes them to lose their repair shop. Kurt leaves his prestigious performing arts school and any chance of moving to New York and getting into NYADA. His only other joy in life is custom tuning cars, but his father doesn’t approve. Things seem to get back on track when he joins the Dalton Crew as their mechanic, behind his father’s back. He’ll make the money he needs as long as he can put up with the unwanted attention of Sebastian Smythe. But, how will his dreams change after he meets the head of the McKinley Crew, Blaine Anderson, who decides that winning Kurt Hummel will be his next big challenge?

For those of you who don’t know, this is one of my first and, in my opinion, flagship fics, so I’m doing a little touch-up job on it in preparation for the sequel. I’ll be posting the revised chapters here one at a time to give everyone who wants the chance to re-read it and get re-acquainted with it. It is posted in its entirety on AO3 and, with the majority of the chapters revised, if you want to go that route, but if you guys could also spread this around, I would really appreciate it <3 The cover for this story was done by the incredible @freakingpotter so you guys should all go and give her some love because she hella deserves it :)

Chapter 1 (2772 words)

Kurt sat cross-legged on his bed, elbows propped on his knees, head in his hands. He felt like crying, and not just a calm, rejuvenating sob, but an all-out, throw-yourself-on-the-floor-kicking-your-legs-and-flailing-your-arms-while-you-wail-like-a-skewered-seal tantrum. He looked around at the worn cardboard boxes piled high in his room, each labeled accordingly - clothes, books, music, Vogue magazines, misc. - all waiting patiently to be unpacked and put away, but Kurt wanted none of it. Unpacking his things and settling in felt so permanent. It felt like giving in. Once he put his clothes in his closet and his books in the bookcase, it would all be real.

Setting his room up would mean he was staying.

Keep reading

{ five’s company // ch. 7 }


Friday came. Everyone seemed to be racing to get home. Alexander especially wanted to get home because Jefferson was being especially cumbersome today. He was convinced the man’s IQ matched his shoe size.

The problem was somehow, Jefferson figured out that you were one of Alex’s significant others. It wasn’t like Alex was ashamed of you. He loved you. He could talk about you for hours and write paragraphs about you. It was just people like Jefferson that Alex wanted to protect you from. 

He was on his way to give his reports to Mr. Washington when Jefferson obnoxiously called him out in the halls. He was leaning on the water cooler, chatting with Madison when his eyes found Hamilton. 

“Hamilton!” He practically sang. “Do you have a minute?” 

Alexander took a deep breath before turning around to face him. He would do his best to stay calm, but if Jefferson said a single word about you or -

He bit his lip. He just had to turn these in. Then he could go home and be with you and John and Herc and Laf. 

The thought of all of you was enough to calm him down.

Keep reading