except that this is better than anything i usually come up with

Fran and Jock

by reddit user Pippinacious/ tumblr user muricanmagpie

I was the last in a long line of grandkids on both sides of the family. No one has ever said as much, but I’m pretty sure I was an “oops” baby; the result of one too many glasses of wine and a couple over forty who thought unplanned pregnancies were for teens.

Oops.

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anonymous asked:

Do you have any kind of process for picking colors for the backgrounds? They all seem to have really nice uniformity, and I would love to read up on how colors like that are picked (or if it's more intuition based). I do remember you mentioning that you also had help from another color lead before, so I was wondering how much of that they help out vs the colors you chose?

hey, thanks so much! this might get a lil long (as it always does!!) so bear with me.

firstly i want to say, there’s no right or wrong way to pick colors. every artist has their own palette they prefer and i think it’s super delightful to spend time developing your own special sense of color. so even though i’m explaining things in a “this is how you do it” sort of way, it’s not the only way! just my way. the best method to develop your own sense of color is to look at a LOT of art, look at a LOT of the world around you, and practice practice pratice.

at this point in my life i pick colors intuitively just because i think it’s something i’m naturally tuned into, and i’ve been doing it for a few years, so i don’t actively plan my palettes. but here are some things that i think about as i pick colors.

firstly, i want to go over hue, value, and saturation. i’m sure everyone knows these intuitively but i want to explain them in words. hue, value and saturation are what make up a color, and decide how colors differ from each other.

hue: what color the color actually is. red, purple, green, yellow, and everything in between.

value: how light or dark a color is. if you’re painting traditionally, adding more white or more black to a color lowers or raises its value.

saturation: how “pure” the color is vs how much neutral tone is in it.

here’s an example of all three:


this comes into play because a big mistake i see beginners make is that they pick a “just” color, and by that i mean they pick “just blue” or “just yellow”. imagine buying a set of oil paints and only using paints straight from the tube without ever mixing. it would be impossible! so i try to avoid picking “just” colors, except as for a complementary color (more on that in a bit). here are some variations of a red, for example.

so, the biggest thing for me when i pick colors is that i want them all to be friends. i want them all to have something in common so that they get along. i usually lose control of a painting when my colors feel to different from one another. so, i will usually start a painting with one color i know for sure i want, and “subordinate” other colors to it, meaning every other color i pick has to look good with that color. as to how you figure out what looks good and what doesn’t, that just takes time and lots of observation to build a personal opinion :) here’s an example from one of my paintings. in this case, the main color is the trees.

and here’s another from rick & morty, the main color is the sky this time.

now that that’s out of the way, i’m going to give you the Actual Cheat Sheet for color palettes. in color theory, there are 8 basic color schemes that are generally pleasing to look at. here they are.

i usually use an analogous palette or monochrome palette out of preference. the two examples above more or less fall into those categories. however, i also like to use split complementary because the complimentary color adds a LOT of contrast and visual interest. it’s great to use if you have a specific thing in a painting you want to draw attention to. here’s an example:

it doesn’t always have to be a perfect split complementary, just one color that differs from the “family” of colors that take up a majority of the piece. 

now! you might be wondering when’s the right time to subordinate a color, or where to put it, or how much of it to use, etc. and the answer is: CONTRAST. there is always visual interest in things that are different. i was rifling through my school notes and found these great types of contrast when working with color.

value: things that are light vs things that are dark.

hue: two colors that look different. I.E. yellow vs blue.

saturation: things that are saturated vs things that are desaturated.

proportion: note the example above. a majority of the painting is orange, so the green stands out because there is proportionally less of it.

temperature: things that are warm vs things that are cool.

complementary: red vs green, blue vs orange, yellow vs purple. when in doubt, these colors always contrast against each other because they have nothing in common (there is no red in green, etc).

simultaneous: this is a little advanced and i’m bad at explaining it, so please read up on it here. 

a super helpful exercise is to look at your favorite illustrations, paintings, photographs, designs, etc and assess which one of the 8 color schemes (linked above) it has, and which types (can be more than one) of contrast it has. we did this in school and it REALLY helped me look at color better. here’s part of the assignment i did, the artist is annette marnat.

so! that’s pretty much how i think about color and how i pick my colors! i hope it was somewhat helpful! there’s so so so so much about color theory i can’t even begin to cover, i highly urge you to watch some videos and read some books and articles to further your study. a great starting place would be this series of videos. these are made by my teacher Richard Keyes, i think he had a dvd or something. everything i’ve talked about so far i learned from him and he is an absolute expert in color. these videos are invaluable. if you take anything away from this post, let it be to watch these videos hahaha.

to answer your question about my color leads, every painting was a collaborative effort between the three of us, and sometimes other painters too. it was a very hands-on crew, so i can’t say any of the r&m bgs i did are 100% “mine”. however, i think my personal color sense is waaaay different than jason or phil’s, which made the process very interesting because we usually had 3 very different opinions hahaa. you can check out their work here and here to see what things they brought to the table in relation to my own contributions.

thank you for the ask! again, i hope this was helpful :)

Unexpected Aspects of the Types

ENFP: They actually crave schedules and structure like nobodies business, if and only if it revolves around their passions. 

INFP: The “manic pixie dream girl” stigma is so wrong. 90% of them are more along the lines of “embittered memelords” with a splash of off-beat and sensible fashion. 

INTP: They’re actually excellent in social situations that they throw themselves into. Your odd aggressiveness and shouting is amusing and weirdly charismatic. 

ENTP: You’ll have to murder them a thousand times before they’ll admit that they actually DO crave harmony and peace more than chaos; Debate and verbal jousting (and memes) is just their way of getting there. 

ENFJ: The worst time management skills. Worse than all of the P’s put together, bar none. You got stars in your eyes and not a single “no” in your throats and it often leaves you ragged busybodies from over committing yourselves. 

INFJ: Despite their ‘mysterious and secretive nature’ stigma, if you engage them in a deep conversation about their passions, 9 times out of 10 they will splay their soul to you even though you met 5 minutes ago at a college party.

ISFJ: They’re known for being the kindly, grandmotherly type that just wants the best for their friends, but the flip side is they’re all basic bitches that secretly crave being a tool. They’re usually just too nice to go Full Douche™, praise the Lord. 

ESFJ: Despite being known as the social butterfly, the Fe and Si combination sometimes makes for an extremely judgmental, polarizing, and single-minded personality, and can seem like the most socially inept/oblivious person in the room. 

ESTJ: Weirdly enough, more often than not, they’re one of the most socially graceful and self-aware people in the room. That, or they’re utterly cringeworthy. Not really any in between. Just don’t get them started on politics (I’m begging you). 

ISTJ: Despite the ‘emotionless Traditionalist™ robot’ stigma, although they can’t offer consistent emotional output, all of the ones I’ve met are some of the most emotionally stable, mature, and available people I’ve ever met. 

ENTJ: Your responsible, efficient, and commanding CEO of a friend is actually the biggest procrastinator in the game, bar none. It’s hidden under a few hundred layers of self-confidence, but they need the stress of the last minute to feel anything in this world. 

INTJ: Massive internal war between fearless, emotionless sociopathy, and caring so deeply for a select few people that they’d give up every ambition to follow them to the ends of the earth without a single plan. TL;DR, their black and icy hearts are secretly hearts of gold and they absolutely abhor that about themselves. 

ESFP: Your favorite quick-talking, loud-mouthed, social explosion with all the friends is probably pretty lonely on the inside. Almost every ESFP I’ve met has huge commitment issues (big and pretty accurate stereotype), but few people realize it usually comes from self-knowledge of their sporadic nature, and they keep people at an emotional distance as a result, so they don’t end up getting hurt. Advice: letting people in and trying to make it work is infinitely better than loneliness in a crowd. 

ISFP: The EXTJ’s WISH they could be as soul-crushingly terrifying as your favorite superwholockian, equestrian painter friend when somebody’s crossed their family or friends. 

ESTP: The “sex, drugs, drinking, and more sex” cliche with ESTP’s is so dumb because literally every ESTP I know doesn’t care about alcohol or sex more than any other person I’ve met, but they ARE infinitely more obsessed with ultimate frisbee and bridge jumping. 

ISTP: The calm, rational, logical side of Ti is thrown completely out of the driver’s side window when they’re behind the wheel, because these hoes have the worst road rage I’ve ever seen, without exception.

It’s OK if it’s not easy for you

So generally, I’m a good internet citizen, and as a rule, I don’t read the comments. On anything. Ever. With some of the publicity that the UfYH book has been getting lately, though, I’ll admit to briefly losing reason from time to time and reading some comments. And there’s one kind of comment I keep coming across that makes me want to scream:

“This is so stupid. I mean, it’s so easy. Just clean up your house. No need for lists or tricks. Just clean it.”

“Can’t this whole article be shortened up to: don’t be a slob?”

“Ugh, how hard is it these days that we need all these ways of telling people how to clean?“

And I always refrain from responding, because I haven’t completely taken leave of my senses, but here’s what I always want to say:

“If you think it’s easy, then this isn’t for you.” That’s it. If you think it’s easy, or stupid, or unnecessary, UfYH wasn’t meant for you. If you think articles and books about cleaning are pointless, well, I’m not sure why you read them except to be a jerk about it in comments. It’s meant for everyone else. For people who don’t know how to clean. Or who don’t know where to start. For people who can’t do it the way they were taught because that takes energy or mobility that they don’t have. For people who are overwhelmed. Or ashamed. It’s OK to be any or all of those things, no matter what sanctimonious strangers on the internet say. If you’re any of those things and you’re here, you’re using the resources you can find to try to make things better for yourself. Isn’t that the point of the internet (well, that and cute animal gifs)?

Screw those jerks who think that because it’s easy for them, that it’s easy for everybody. It’s not. Don’t let them fool you into thinking you’re somehow lesser in any way because you don’t innately know or instinctively do this stuff. There are way more of us than there are of them; we just usually keep quiet about it for any number of reasons (shame, fear, judgment, frustration…). They can go feel smug about their clean houses or whatever somewhere else. Now, go clean, be awesome, and don’t read the comments.

Rick and Morty Theories Master List

ABOUT THIS BLOG 

~~~~~~ ALL ABOUT RICK (C-137)~~~~~~

Rick character study - Observations

  1. How is Rick so spry for 60 years old?
  2. If Rick was gone so long finding the cure for Mory’s broken legs, that his portal gun lost charge, why did he seem to only be gone a few minutes?
  3. That dimension with the cure for broken legs also cured aging, did Rick take any anti aging meds?

Rick knows he’s a cartoon character in our universe - theory

What happened to Beth’s mom? - Theories

When Unity met Rick - Theories

How much does Rick C-137 love his family?- Theories

How many times has Rick jumped realities and how many Mortys has he had? - Theories

Is there some truth in the fabricated memory? - Theories

How deep does self hatred go among the majority of Ricks? - Theories

What if Rick’s family are not actually related to him - Theory

Is Rick an Artificial Intelligence program? - Theory

Is Rick a genetically created being, designed by eyepatch Morty - Theory

Is Rick still inside a simulation? - Theory

Rick’s old band - Theories

Introspection is Rick’s Weakness, which leads him to self sacrifice - Theories


~~~~~~ ALL ABOUT MORTY (C-137?)~~~~~~ 

Morty character study - Observations

Is Morty a genetic experiment by Rick to create brain camo? - Theory

Rick C-137′s current Morty will be the one to take him down - Theory


~~~~~~ ALL ABOUT (C-137′s Current) SUMMER ~~~~~~

Summer character study - Observations

Summer will follow in her grandpa’s footsteps - theory


~~~~~~ ALL ABOUT (C-137′s Current) BETH ~~~~~~

Beth character study - Observations


~~~~~~ ALL ABOUT (C-137′s Current) JERRY ~~~~~~

Jerry character study - Observations

Jerry is Bisexual -Theory

Divorced Jerry - Theories

Jerry is capable of more than we thing - Theories


~~~~~~ ALL ABOUT VILLAINS~~~~~~

Eyepatch/Evil Morty - Theories

Tammy - Theories

Galactic Federation - Theories

Citadel of Ricks - Theories

Riq IV is Summer’s original MIA grandpa Rick - Theory


~~~~~~ ALL ABOUT THE MULTIVERSE ~~~~~~

Questionable science? - Nitpicks

There are multiple timelines within each dimension - Theory

Crossovers! Other franchises Rick has crossed paths with - Observations

Are Rick and Morty the same person? - Theories

Bait and Switch! Which Rick and Morty are we watching? - Theories

Rickest Rick, Mortiest Morty - Theories


~~~~~~ ALL ABOUT THE REST OF IT ~~~~~~

Where’s Squanchy? -Theories

Where did the Meeseeks Box come from? - Theories

Will Morty Jr Return? -Theories

What do the council of Morty’s do? - Theories

Pocket Mortys - Theories


~~~~~~ MISSING A THEORY? 

LET US KNOW PLEASE, WE’LL TRY TO UPDATE OFTEN ~~~~~~

Keep in mind I have 45 posts still in my queue so be patient with me

psa for the yoi fandom: russian names & how to use them

Russian guides: masterpost | patronyms | terms of affection | answered asks

I’m going to start by swearing this isn’t me just complaining but a general resource for the Yuri on Ice fandom because I’ve noticed some mistakes in the naming conventions used among the fandom and want to help correct them. Especially in how the fandom treats diminutives. I absolutely love seeing the huge amount of interest in Russian diminutives, etc. in fanart and fics and hopefully this breakdown will help continue that trend and interest and even spur some more ideas in fandom content.

So let’s go through some important details below the cut!

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Something happened 63 years ago that’s haunted me my entire life. I’ve never told anyone about it—until now

Story by reddit user  Sergeant_Darwin

It’s official: I’m an old man.

For the last couple years, I’ve comforted myself by saying I’m in my “early 70s,” but math is simple and unforgiving. Today is my 75th birthday, and God, the years do fly.

I’m not here for your well wishes; this is hardly a milestone I’m excited about. I’m glad to still be here, of course, but I find I have less and less to live for with every passing year. My bones ache, my kids live far away, and the other side of my bed has been empty for just over eight months now. In fact, once I cast my vote against that goddamned Trump this November, I may have nothing to live for at all.

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bad | 07

  He was the cliché bad boy. He was the guy you couldn’t stand. He was the handsome, hot kid who made girls go weak in the knees. He was a brat. You had never liked him one bit, but you had also never gotten involved with anything concerning him. Until one day, when you were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Originally posted by mvssmedia

MEMBER: jeon jungkook x reader (ft. kim taehyung)

GENRE: smut, romance, fluff

WORDS: 10 243

WARNINGS: mature & sexual content, profanity, dirty talk & other filth

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07coming soon

A/N: please beat my ass for taking over a fucking month with this. hopefully it was worth the wait tho ;). writing this killed me.

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Massages

4.2k of smut, I’m not even sorry

‘OUCH! Stop, st- STOP IT PANSY! Argh, fuck, I think I broke a rib.’ Draco sat down on his bed, a painful expression on his face which was paler than usual.

‘You’re an ungrateful bastard’ Pansy flopped beside him, pouting ‘the whole Slytherin house knows I’m the best on giving massage’

‘Well, I better look for someone from other houses then’ Draco made another pained expression as he got up. ‘I can’t, I can’t walk. Argh, fuck!’ He laid down slowly. Pansy only stared at him from the door, the look on her a face a mixture of pity and remorse.

‘I’ll get someone. Even though you were a little bitch just now.’ She glared at him before leaving.

It’d started three days before then. He was getting ready on Wednesday morning to practice quidditch. Everything was fine when he bent down to tie his shoelaces, but the second he straightened his back an acute pain hit him on his hips. It’d gotten worse the past two days to the point now he couldn’t even sit properly without feeling it.

He laid there, thinking maybe he would have to look for Madam Pomfrey after all. But fuck, those potions always messed up with his stomach, he’d do anything to avoid taking them even if it meant asking for someone he didn’t know to give him a massage. Pansy had told him she knew what she was doing but at the end it’d only worsened it.

***

‘It’s for a friend, you see. He’s in a lot of pain at the moment and I was hoping you knew someone good on giving massages’ Pansy flopped down on a chair at the eighth year common room.

‘Well,’ Hermione started, closing her arithmancy book. 'I do, but… who exactly is this friend of yours?’ She gave Pansy a look that could be translated as 'Are-we-talking-about-who-i-think-we-are-talking-about?’

'Draco’ Pansy sighed, predicting the other’s answer. 'But… I swear he’ll behave. And you owe me this one, right? After I brought you those French hair products’ Pansy smirked.

'You really are a Slytherin’ Hermione sighed 'but they were actually amazing. I’ll help you with this one but I can’t guarantee it’ll go well.’

Pansy gave her a quick hug, grinning. 'Who is it then?’

'Harry’ Hermione murmured to herself.

Pansy gasped and then laughed until tears were streaming down her face.

'Holy. Shit. Are you sure he’ll want to do it?’

Hermione gave her a little smile.

'He owes he a favor’

Pansy’s giggling was catching the attention of everyone around them.

'Who’s the Slytherin one now?’

***

'Tell me how amazing I am’

The girl bursted inside his dorm an hour after she’d left to find Draco in the same position.

'You found someone?’ He got up, regretting the decision immediately. 'Ah, shit! Are they outside? Please tell me they’re outside’

'They’ll be here in ten’ Pany sat by his side and poked his cheek 'go on, tell me how amazing I am’

'You’re amazing’ he grunted. When he looked at his friend, though, she wasn’t paying attention, busy with a little pink bag Draco hadn’t noticed she’d brought before. 'What-’

'Oils. For the massage’ she smirked and Draco felt blood going to his cheeks.

'There’s no need for that’

'They have properties. They could help’ she started to take the little flasks with different colors out of the bag and pile them on Draco’s bed.

A light knock on the door told them Pansy’s friends had arrived.

'C'mon in!’

'I just don’t understand why… No. No fucking way.’

'Harry, please, Pansy said-’

'What the actual fuck, Pansy!’ Draco started talking at the same time Hermione tried to stop Harry from leaving the room. 'This is… ah, shit shit- ARGH!’ Draco’s attempt to get up brought back the striking pain on his lower back and he felt his knees failing. The next second he was tumbling to the ground with a loud thud. Tears came uninvited to his eyes and he bit his lips as hard as he could to stop from screaming.

Draco didn’t look up to see who it was that was trying to help him get up. A firm hand went on the underside of his thigh as the other grabbed his shoulder firmly, pushing him to his feet just long enough for him to get to his bed. When he collapsed on his bed, flushed cheeks and tears still streaming down his face, everything he could think about was that maybe his time had come. Die would be better than suffer so much humiliation in front of Saint Potter, who was panting by his side.

Harry stared down at the boy in front of him, Malfoy’s face twisted in an ugly expression. It was like he was trying to sneer at Harry but the pain was too much even for that. Harry sighed and turned to see he was left alone in the room with an incapacitated Malfoy. Well, shit, that was just great. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone? Peace, it was all he was asking for after everything. But, oh no, he had to have asked Hermione for help with his potions homework the week before, and now he owed her this. Harry wouldn’t have denied giving a massage to any of his friends if they’d asked him. He’d helped Hermione, Ginny and even Luna in the past. But Malfoy? Give Malfoy a massage, after everything, almost sounded funny.

Except it wasn’t because Harry had a hero complex and he knew Malfoy wouldn’t ask for such a thing if he wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t even Malfoy who came looking for Hermione, it was Pansy, which meant he probably was in a lot of pain. He couldn’t walk, from what Harry could see.

Small flasks caught his attention, all of them pilled up beside Malfoy.

'What’s this?’ He grabbed one and put it against the light. The liquid inside was thicker than water.

'Oils. Pansy brought them. She said they could help. Not like you need to know this anyway since you won’t use them.’ Malfoy spoke through gritted teeth, facing the wall opposite to where Harry stood. So he was expecting him to leave, that cocky bastard.

'Take off your shirt then’ Harry levitated all the tiny flasks to the ground and picked up one randomly. When he opened it the smell of cinnamon filled the room. Malfoy stared at him like he’d gone insane.

'What do you think you’re doing?’ he asked slowly.

'Well, maybe a massage since that’s what Hermione asked me to do and I can’t have a fucking moment of peace in this castle. And since you seem to be unable to even walk I advise you shut the fuck up and take off your shirt so I can see what’s wrong and finish in time for dinner’ Harry looked up to find Malfoy gaping at him.

'Do you even-’

'Yes, I do know how to do it, you prick. And I’m using this one, so take off your shirt’ Harry signaled to the open flask in his hands as he sat down on the far end of the bed.

He didn’t quite know how the oil would help since he’d never used them when he gave massages before. He liked the smell of it, that was all.

Malfoy struggled to sit down. He undid his tie, opened every button and started to take it off, really slowly trying not to move too much, wincing everytime he did. He folded his shirt and put it on the chair beside the bed. Harry couldn’t help staring at the huge scars on his chest he knew he was responsible for. Guilt settled on his stomach as he tore his gaze away.

'Lay down on your stomach’ Harry got up and sat beside Malfoy’s body as close as he could without brushing their thighs. It was ridiculous, he knew, since he would be touching him quite soon. Malfoy did as he was told and stilled, realising what that meant.

And what it meant was that, like that, he was completely vulnerable. He turned his face to Potter’s side and searched the other boy’s face for any sign of danger but all he could see was a frown as Harry dripped the oil in his fingers. Draco felt his cheeks heat up for some reason he didn’t understand.

'I’m going to start’ Potter’s voice was low when he spoke. Before Draco could say anything Potter’s hands were on his shoulders, placed at the same distance from the centre of his back. They were warmer than Draco’s skin, soft and sticky with oil. His breath got stuck on his throat  when Potter squeezed and, even though his lower back still hurt, Draco felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He exaled, relaxing into the matress.

Harry maintained the rhythm for a while, squeazing and releasing Malfoy’s shoulders, his thumbs pressing small circles on the other’s neck as he did. Harry, then, started to let his hands go lower, maintaining the pressing of his thumbs as he did until he reached the high of Malfoy’s kidneys. He stopped there to smear his hands with more oil.

'Where did the pain start?’ Harry found his voice was hoarse when he spoke.

'Hm… my hips’ Malfoy sounded sleepy when he spoke. He was so relaxed Harry had to hold back a giggle. He must really be great at giving massage if it meant even Malfoy was enjoying it.

He stopped shortly.

'Your hips?’ Shit, he wasn’t expecting that. 'Er… okay. I’ll- I’ll need you to lower you trousers a bit.  

'What?’ Draco opened his eyes, snapping out of his daze. What did Potter just say?

'So I can reach your hips. I can’t do much with them in the way’ he said slowly, almost like he expected Draco to start yelling at him.

'So you want me to take off my pants?’ Draco couldn’s believe what the fuck was going on.

'No! Just- Just open it, okay? I can do the rest…’ Draco stopped for a second. He reached for his buttons, opened them and laid down again. He turned his face the other way since he was pretty sure he was blushing. Shit, Potter better know what he was doing.

Harry exhaled gradually. He most definitely didn’t know what he was doing. Well, he did, but he shouldn         ’t be doing this. He should’ve stopped, told Malfoy to go look for Pomfrey and got out of there.

Instead he placed his hands on Malfoy’s lower back again. He rubbed his thumbs in circles there, with less pressure this time, and started to press lower as he did. He reached his trousers but since the buttons were open it hang loose on Malfoy’s hips. Harry let his thumbs go under the waist and Malfoy froze.

Harry exhaled again. 'This will probably hurt but if it doesn’t work I’ll know what I have to do, okay?’ He pulled his trousers lower until he could see the other’s boxers. They were black, just like his trousers. Harry could see the fine blond hair that covered his lower back was up.

'Just don’t break my bones’ His tone was sarcastic.

Harry had his weigh on one knee which was pressed against the matress, both hands on Malfoy’s hips.

'Inhale’ Harry instructed. 'Hold’ Malfoy did as he was told.

'Exhale’ he pushed all his weight on his hands as quickly as he could. Malfoy screamed and Harry cursed. They were panting, Malfoy still too shocked to say anything.

'It won’t work, not like this’ Harry got off the bed to take off his shoes. When he looked back Malfoy was staring at him with a strange expression on his face, fear mixed with something else. Was it anticipation?

'This will work’ Harry got on the bed again and before malfoy could say anything he passed one of his legs over the blond’s body, straddling him. Harry sat on Malfoys thighs, trapping him so he couldn’t turn around.

'WHAT THE FUCK, POTTER?’ Malfoy tried to free himself but Harry pinned both Draco’s hands above his head in a strong grip.

'I’m telling you this will work! Stop fidgeting and shut up!’

But focusing on Potter’s words was hard since all he could sense was the warmth and pressure on his thighs, so close to his ass. He’d never felt anything like that before, something disturbingly intimate and his whole body was reacting as if it was. He closed his eyes, cursing inside his head as blood rushed into his cock. Fuck fuck fuck, this wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be…

'Inhale’ Potter’s words resonated closer to his ear than before. He shivered, inhaling as deep as he could. 'You need to relax’ Potter’s voice came out hoarse, his thumbs still tracing circles on his hips. Draco shuddered but felt his shoulders lose tension again.

'Inhale’, Harry repetead. 'Hold’ And Draco did.

Potter shifted on his thighs and Draco almost forgot what he was supposed to do.

'Exhale’ he did it again, placing all his weight in his hands, his thighs pressing hard against Malfoy’s as he did. A loud crack made Harry smile and Draco scream.

And then Malfoy let out a loud moan and Harry lost his train of thought.

Suddenly all the blood in his brain was going down, making his pants too tight. His ears felt like they were full of water when he heard Malfoy hum against the pillow.

'It worked’ Draco breathed, lifting his hips a bit to check if the pain was still there. The motion caused his ass to rub against something hard.

Draco gasped.

Harry moaned low.

Draco’s hips rose up again, higher, rubbing harder against what he knew was Potter and fuck, he didn’t know what he was doing anymore. And then Potter pressed down, literally pressed against Draco’s ass so he could feel it, the whole length even through the fabric. Potter was hard, really hard and Draco felt his own cock twitching at that.

Draco moaned, the sound ringing in Harry’s ears. He should go, he knew he should, but Malfoy was panting, and lifting that roundy ass for him, to rub against him, and Harry saw his face when he turned his head to the side. His cheeks were flushed and lips parted.

Harry pressed again, leaning forward until his mouth was just above Malfoy’s left ear.

'Do you want me to go?’ He needed to be sure, to be certain he wasn’t imagining all that.

Malfoy gasped, his eyes tightly shut. 'No’ He lifted his arm, grabbing Harry’s thigh and craving his nails on it. Harry bit his earlobe, went for his jaw and started sucking there.

Draco’s cock was throbbing beneath him, so hard he was sure he might faint any second.

The next minute the pressure against his ass was gone making a small cry escape his lips. Fuck fuck, Potter must have come to his senses before he did…

His pants were suddenly yanked down to his knees, his boxers with them. The sudden movement ccreating friction against his cock, now leaking on the matress. Draco was sure he couldn’t blush any harder but it didn’t stop him from moaning when hands grabbed his arse cheeks. How come he didn’t know he could get pleasure from there? Potter’s hands were everywhere, squeezing, pinching, scratching the soft skin.

Harry opened his cheeks, exposing his hole and run his thumb there tentatively.

'Ah- ha fuck…’ Draco buried his face in the pillow again. This wasn’t right, this was so fucking wrong, what was he doing moaning for…

'I wanna eat you up’ Harry didn’t mean to let the words escape his lips. His gaze was fixed on Malfoy’s pink hole and when it contracted under his thumb the thought of licking there, fucking him with his tongue, assaulted his mind immediately. Malfoy shivered under him.

'Wh-What are you saying?’ the tips of his ears were even redder from where Harry could see them.

Harry got off of Malfoy’s thighs and pushed them apart. He grabbed Malfoy’s hips again, pulling his ass up a bit. He could see the blond’s cock was hard and swollen, rubbing against the matress. Harry got on his elbows, squeezed Draco’s arse again and bit the already marked skin.

Draco gasped, his head jerking to the side so he could get a glimpse of Potter between his legs. Potter was sucking him at the spot he’d bitten before, his hands massaging the place where his thighs met his ass. He run his fingers there, grabbed his arse cheeks and pulled them apart. Draco drew a sharp breath.

He could hear Harry fidgeting with his own pants followed by the sound of clothes hitting the ground. Draco waved his hand towards the door, a click signalling it was now locked. He couldn’t even begin to think what would happen if anyone decided to come in.

Draco felt something wet, warm and firm press against his hole.

'Fuck fuck, you can’t- ah… ahhhh P-Potter this is…’ he gave a choking moan when Harry began to lick him relentlessly, his own moans reverberating in Draco’s skin.

Harry licked, savoured until his tongue got past the tight ring, and then he was fucking Draco, fucking him with wet and hot thrusts of his tongue. Draco kept pushing  back, gasping as he did, completely out of control.

Harry had never done that before but the second he had laid eyes on Draco’s ass, naked before him all he could thing about was opening him, filing him up to get all those delicious sounds out of him.

Draco moaned, and moaned, louder each time. The words that came out of his mouth were incoherent, interrupted by sharp intakes of air.

'Yes… This- fuck Potter… I-deep-deeper’

Deeper, he wanted it deeper. Harry grasped the tiny flask he’d left on the ground and smeared his fingers with the oil again. He retreated his tongue earning a whimper from Malfoy that turned into a sob the second Harry’s middle finger replaced his tongue, getting in smoothly. Draco gasped, shivering uncontrollably and Harry just stayed there, mouth hanging open at the view. His finger disappeared and reappeared, Malfoy sucking him in while rutting against the matress. Harry curled his finger experimentally getting Malfoy to jolt and scream, throwing his head back. Harry caressed his thigh marked with purple bruises, another finger going inside his hole. The blond hissed but didn’t tell Harry to stop so he thrusted them to the base.

Draco’s brain was shutting down. The lewd sounds filling the room paired with the smell of cinnamon overstimulating his whole body. He wanted more heat, more pressure, more skin against his but the words kept getting lost in his throat everytime he tried to voice his needs. And Potter, fuck, he knew what to do with his hands, with his mouth. That fucking tongue worked like magic inside him. Potter was moving his fingers inside him in a way Draco didn’t even know was possible, scissoring them, thrusting them to the base.

The fingers were suddenly gone. Draco inhalled sharply but before he could complain Potter grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. He laid there on his back, legs spread open, cock dripping with pre come. And Harry stared him down, took in every inch of his light skin shamelessly. Draco felt exposed even though they were both naked. His hole twitched, stretched and leaking all the oil Potter had rubbed inside him and Potter stared. He fucking stared, jerking himself as he did.

Draco grabbed his own cock and began to do the same. It was unfair, having to do it all by himself after all Potter did, that bastard. The gesture caught the Golden Boys’s attention, though, and Draco smirked.

'i want,’ Harry bent down, their chests flushed against each other, his mouth whispering in Draco’s lips. 'I want to put it in you’ he sucked Draco’s lower lip. Holy fuck, he was on the edge already. Potter moved his lips to Draco’s ear and shifted, the head of his cock now poking Draco’s entrance. Draco felt it tingle as Potter cast a protective spell. 'I want to fill you up’ he whispered against his ear.

'Fuck, fuck…’

'Has anyone ever done that?’ he nuzzled Draco’s temple, his glans rubbing against his hole. 'I’m going to take you’ Harry hold his cock steadily as he pushed an inch, stretching Malfoy for him. The blond was panting on his cheek, small sobs inbetween gasps for air.

Harry’s ability to dirty talk, even as his own mind wasn’t working properly was something he didn’t know he could do. He was blushing, panting, but the possessivness he felt made him talk. Malfoy was his, all his, he just never thought that that anger, the rush of adrenaline he felt every time they were close could be hiding something else. He always thought Malfoy was his to take down, to fight against. But he also was his to consume, to bury himself into.

Harry thrust slowly, taking in the tightness, the heat engulfing him. Malfoy was fisting his cock under him, eyes tightly shut and mouth hanging open. Harry stopped Malfoy’s hand with his own and, with a tight grip, trapped them both above his head. Malfoy opened his eyes, his grey irisis thin rings around blown pupils.

'Touch my cock’ he whispered against Harry’s lips, more a command than a pleading. Harry smashed their mouths together instead, refusing to let go of his grip. Draco shivered under him, opened his mouth, let Potter invade his mouth with that tongue. Fuck, that tongue that’d fucked him just minutes ago. And Harry kissed him, his cock deep buried to the hilt inside him. He was full, so fucking full he felt his whole body collapse when Potter started to pull back.

He thrust again, the friction, the pressure, sending shocks of pleasure to Draco’s cock, up his spine, everywhere. Through half opened eyes Draco saw Harry gazing at him, his glasses gone, his lips red, parted as puffs of air escaped them. Harry thrust hard when he realized Draco was staring back. His complex changed immediately.

'I-yes fuck ahh-ah…’ Draco’s whole body was trembling, his ass thrusting back against Harry’s cock, trying to get him to go deeper.

Harry released Draco’s hands, grabbed his thighs instead and lifted them, shoving in until his fingers were numb from the tight grip. He’d leave marks there, crimson lines, and the thought made him moan. Harry bent down again, his mouth reaching Draco’s neck. He sucked him there while he fucked hard and fast. Draco fisted his cock with one hand while the other scratched Harry’s back repeatedly.

His moans were louder now, loud enough Harry was sure people could hear them from outside the dorm. Draco didn’t seem to care, or even realize he was making those sounds.

The next moment Draco was contracting around him, trembling violently and coming on their stomachs. The pressure was enough to send Harry over the edge, his thrusts erratic as he came deep inside Draco.

Draco moaned again when he felt something hot filling him up, Harry’s last thrusts too much to handle.

Harry flopped beside him, his limbs drained of strengh.

'Merlin’ he whispered to himself.

'Yeah’

'That was…’

'Yeah’

They didn’t speak for the next couple of minutes. When Harry got up to leave, though, Draco reached for his arm.

'You could… we- uh… we could…’

Harry kissed him softly, almost clumsily before speaking 'Yeah, I- I’d like that’

***

Draco sat down that evening with Pansy and Blaise at their common room to warm themselves in front of the fire. He couldn’t help wincing a bit when he did.

'What’s wrong? I thought Potter had fixed you back’

Draco felt his face flushing immediately.

'He did! I just…’

'I’m sure he did. Just remember to go somewhere else with thicker walls next time you call him to fix your back’ Blaise didn’t even care to lift his eyes from the book he had in hands.

His cheeks were in flames and the expression on Pansy’s face wasn’t helping.

‘You owe me two favours now!’ She smirked, leaning against the couch like she’d won a bet.

‘What- Why two?’ Draco shifted and winced again at the new burning ache.

‘Because,’ She stuck up a finger like she needed to count all the favours Draco owned her. ‘I found someone to fix your back’ She lifted another finger. ‘And,’

Right that second Potter walked through the portrait followed by Granger and Weasley. He spotted Draco immediately and, well wasn’t that great, strode towards him, leaving Weasley with a confused look and Granger with a knowing one. He glanced at Pancy and saw her waving at the Gryffindor girl. Fucking amazing.

‘Hey,’ Potter stood awkwardly there before sitting on the arm of Draco’s chair. Draco knew his cheeks were already flushed but when Potter bent down and whispered in his ear he was sure he probably looked like a tomatoe. ‘Fancy a game of Wizard’s chess later?’

Pansy was shaking trying to keep herself from bursting out laughing.

‘Your dorm?’ Draco found himself playing with the hem of Potter’s hoodie. The bastard blushed at Draco’s words, but nodded with a smile on his face.

He’d barely turned his back when Draco heard Pansy’s voice loud and clear.

‘And, I got you a cute boyfriend. Two favours!’

***

Ao3 

exchanges (m)

Summary: In which Jeon Jungkook is that friendly neighborhood superhero, you’re the face in the hallway that saved his high school career, and he can’t ever seem to get a grip around you. Even when he makes you scream after a fated accident—not for the reason you may be thinking; get the thought out of your head! 
Pairing: Jungkook | Reader 
Genre: Fluff/Smut; Spiderman AU 
Word Count: 14,838
Author’s Note: Honestly though, it was only a matter of time before I got around to writing a story like this. I am obsessed with Spiderman, so this might just be the foundational guideline for many future Jungkook Spiderman AU drabbles to come in the future. 

The story was also heavily inspired by this photo that made me cry for seven days and seven nights. +photo credit !!!!!!!

.

(the present)

If Jeon Jungkook is against anything in his life, it’s one’s ability to exaggerate certain situations or problems to make those things seem much bigger than they probably were. Well, actually, take that back. It’s not that he’s against it per say, it’s just that his peer’s daily struggles of pop quizzes and missing the morning bus aren’t exactly headliner news—especially in comparison to what he has to go through.

Jeon Jungkook is against exaggeration, probably because he can’t get away with it himself. It’s not that he doesn’t like to exchange his fair share of embellished stories or fabricated events weaved into true experiences, it’s that he can’t afford to do so. Sharing stories of his nightly routines and dashing superhero adventures may seem great, but only if he could manage the burden of a personal life and a masked life intertwining.

As an 18-year-old boy, he can probably say it’s safe to assume that he cannot. Manage the overwhelming, opposite pressure both of his lives take him, that is. It’s difficult enough being a college freshman, a tiny fish in an ocean of whales and sharks, but throw in his late night Spiderman facade would be too much of a tale to share with other people and peers who probably ask too many questions and know too much about him. He’s never liked the exposure that comes with being in the spotlight, and he can’t hide behind his mask if people knew who he was.

Oh. Right. Speaking of his Spiderman facade, that’s who is he. Haven’t heard of him? You know, the dashing hero of Seoul, red and blue spandex attire with a web shooter, fine tuned senses and amazingly quick reflexes? The boy who swings around the city, volunteering for trouble and always coming out right on top? The boy who constantly maintains that casual, slightly amused tone throughout a majority of his rescues?

Yeah, well, that’s Jungkook.

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anonymous asked:

heres a prompt if u were interested: neil being oblivious when flirted with constantly while andrew doing nothing, passing by, twirling his racquet is enough to get neil's attention (the rest of the foxes smirk)

“You’re all zoned out,” Matt says in her ear. Dan tips him immediately backwards with a hand to the chest.

“Shush,” she tells him, gritted through the straw she’s worrying between her teeth. She ran out of the watered-down pepsi they’re serving in battered plastic jugs a half hour ago.

“Dan.”

“Shush,” she insists, pressing two fingers to his mouth. She’s watching Neil trying to fill his water cup over at the far side of the banquet hall. He’s hovering in that way he does, like a shark who hasn’t figured out if something’s food yet.

There’s this sweet brown-eyed boy trying to talk to him, possibly the only male cheerleader in the room, certainly the least in the loop about Exy gossip. Dan watches him touch Neil’s arm and Neil jerks backwards into the table, toppling an entire icy water jug so it slops onto the floor and seeps through the tablecloth to the dark wood underneath.

Heads pop up, the boy falls all over himself to pour Neil a new glass, and Neil wanders off, bored.

Dan has noticed that people really want Neil to have a heart of gold. They like the news stories and they want them for themselves. They want the seams showing on his face and the tragedy in his back pocket, and they want to show everyone how accepting they are for finding his scars sexy. 

All they really want is his trim waist and his pretty eyes and his vice-cap badge and the way he shoves cameras away and has more history than any twenty-year-old has any business having.

Dan’s seen it all before. The way people like the character you’re playing so much that they want to take you home and open you up and see how deep it goes.

Neil’s worse at knowing when it’s happening. Dan’s a professional. She can see the way their eyes follow him because at least a dozen are always following her too, especially in places like this banquet. They look at Neil, or Dan, and a little part of them expects a show.

She watches Neil walk towards them with his eyes pouring over the room like liquid and finding every crevice, every exit. She looks at Matt.

“He’s doing that thing where he’s making a spectacle but he thinks he’s being very subtle.”

“That’s his whole shtick. I’m fond of it, now.” Matt grins.

“Do you think he actually noticed he was being hit on?”

Matt hums, watching Neil wind through the tables back to the fox—trojan extravaganza at theirs. “I doubt he knows anything about that boy other than the fact that he was in front of him for a bit.”

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why lance (probably) won’t be the red paladin, and also why keith (probably) won’t be the black paladin

alright, so, chances are you’ve watched and rewatched the season three trailer multiple times. or, at least, i have. in it, we see lance in both the blue lion and the red lion, and we also see keith in the black lion. 

Keep reading

Reid x reader:
Imagine the reader being younger than Reid.

Warnings: big age difference, fluff/smut???, talking about cases

The team notices right away that something was on Spencer’s mind. It had been for the past couple months. It starts becoming obvious when boy genius himself starts messing up his facts.

“What’s up with you, pretty boy? Who’s got your panties in a knot?” Morgan asked him on the way out of the office.

The two were tired from a long day at Quantico and ready to be home.

“Knot? What makes you think anyone’s been doing anything with my panties? Did someone say something?” The doctor stuttered.

“Wow there. No I can just tell you have been distracted. Is there something you want to tell me?” Derek raises his eyebrows, stopping at his car.

Reid thinks what the best idea would be. He trusted Morgan but he also looked up to him and wondered what he would think.

“I met someone.” Reid’s mouth speaks before his brain has a chance to catch up.

Morgan can’t say he was surprised, he heard something from JJ but they were all just assumptions.

“A little lady caught the eye of Spencer Reid? Now how does one do that?” Derek smirks.

Reid has a silly grin on his face, he shrugs and looks down at the ground.

“She is- she’s pretty amazing.” He brags.

It was a relief to finally get it off his chest. For the past 3 months he’s been having to keep it a secret. He wouldn’t usually be hanging around people like you. Not unless he was on the job.

Not that there is anything wrong with you. Like he said you are amazing; smart, funny, beautiful. Everything he wanted in a girl.

You were pretty much his dream girl, except you are real.

“So when do I get to meet her?” Morgan wonders.

A question Spencer couldn’t answer. Both of your schedules were pretty full. You and Spencer had talked about meeting your friends next weekend at Rossi’s.

“Soon hopefully.” Spencer said before both him and his coworker made their way home.

When you heard the door start to unlock, you put your book down.

You greet the boy at the door.

You throw your arms around his neck before he has a chance to put anything down. He hugs you back.

“Did you get settled in?” He asks, closing the door with his foot.

You nod, you got into town this morning, Spencer was already at work so you have been at his house all alone. You two planned spending the spring holiday together. A whole week and a half of just you and your boyfriend.

You two untangle from each other and he puts his bag on the hook by the door. You loved Spencer’s house, it was what you wanted yours to look like. Books everywhere, almost OCD clean.

A love of books is what drew you and Spencer together so quickly.

“I think I need to shower.” Spencer announces, taking his coat off and hanging it will his bag.

“I think I’ll join you.” You smile and follow after him to the bathroom.
*
Spencer and you had been enjoying your time here. Times where he was at work, which seemed to be a lot, you found something to do.

You were never really bored, Spencer had an abundance of books and the city was interesting to explore.

You two were laying in bed, you were nearly asleep when his phone started ringing.

“Hello?” He answers, you knew he was asleep because he sounded half asleep. “Okay.” He says before hanging up.

“Who was that?” You ask curiously.

He starts getting up from bed, wearing only his robe.

“We have a case. They need me.” He gets into his dresser.

You frown, “It’s nearly two in the morning.” You whine.

He walks over to you leaning over you. “It’s all part of the job.” He kisses your lips and starts to get dressed.

You begin to doze off, the last thing you remember is Spencer covering you with a blanket and kissing your forehead.

When you open your eyes, the sun is flooding through the window, it’s just past noon.

You sit up, the house still empty. You check your phone and there is a message from Spencer. He says they had to go to New York for a case but shouldn’t be long.

You groan, you had homework to do but you wanted Spencer. You laid in bed for another hour before actually getting up. You made coffee and started right up on your homework.

You only stopped twice, to make something to eat and when Spencer called.

“I’m sorry, this really isn’t what I wanted to happen.” He apologizes over the phone.

“It’s okay, it’s your job. People need your brains.” You smile.

You can hear his laugh over the phone. You missed him, you were happy to be at his house than in your town. At least when he comes back you will be here.

“You doing okay-” Spencer starts.

“Who’s that?” You hear a voice on the other end of the line.

“I- I gotta go.” Spencer rushes.

You exchange goodbyes and hang up the phone. You knew Spencer hadn’t told his team about you. It was obvious why, you couldn’t help but feel he was embarrassed of you but you knew better than that.

You knew Spencer’s feelings for you were real, he cared so much about you and never missed a chance to show you.

Spencer had been talking to you about going to meet some of his friends tomorrow. They are meeting up at a coworkers house and he wanted you to meet them.

You couldn’t help but be nervous. He spoke so highly about his friends, you wondered what they would think.

The rest of the night you read and watched tv on your phone. Spencer of course did not have a tv which you found ridiculous. He was not that into electronics but everyone needs a tv.

You tried to stay up as late as you could, not knowing when Spencer would be home. When you found yourself falling asleep while reading a book, you knew it was time to call it a night.

It was almost 3am and you could barely keep your eyes open. You changed into one of Spencer’s shirts, surprisingly you hadn’t really worn one before. Spencer wasn’t the type of boyfriend who just gave away his shirts.

He doesn’t gets how sexy it is.

With that, you cuddled up in his bed by yourself and drifted to sleep. The next morning you woke up again around noon. You lifted your head up in bed to catch sight of the sleeping boy next to you.

A smile spread across your face, his hair is sprawled out across the pillow.

You roll closer to him and kiss his bare shoulder. You rub his back as he starts stirring. He rolls to face you and you automatically gasp.

“Spencer.” You say.

“Don’t worry, it’s not as bad as it looks.” He scrunched up his beaten face.

You cup his face, “This is the thing I don’t like about your job.”

“I know.” He smiles and pulls your head down to kiss your lips.

“Come on, let’s go out to breakfast.” He suggests.

The rest of the day was amazing. You two go out to breakfast then he spends the rest of the day reading to you. Your head in his lap as he reads The Narrative of John Smith to you. You notice he barely has to look at the book but that doesn’t surprise you much.

You two start getting ready to go to Reid coworkers house.

“Are you sure you want me to come?” You look at him through the mirror of the bathroom while drying your hair, a towel wrapped around your body.

“Yes, you are an important person in my life. I want you to meet the other important people.” He comes up behind you and kisses your cheek.

Having him by your side makes you feel better about everything. When you guys load into the car, you take his hand. He smiles at you, you can tell he is nervous too.

He cares so much about his team, if they don’t approve it with crush him. When you get to the nice sized house you park out front. You both sit in the car for a couple minutes.

“I’m really excited to meet your friends, Spence. I just want you to know, if they don’t like me it won’t change anything between us.” You comfort him. You have met the team before, it was before you and Spencer had even met.

“I think they are going to love you. I think it’s just at first they will be… confused.” He says.

You two finally exit the car and make your way to the door of the modern house. Spencer knocks and plays with his fingers while waiting for it to open. When it does there is a Middle aged man on the other side of the door.

He looks at you, then to Spencer then back to you before finally greeting you.

“Well hello. You just be Y/N.” He reaches out to shake your hand. “I’m David Rossi.”

You smile and shake his hands, “I’ve heard great things about you. It’s nice to meet you.”

He invited us in and there are multiple other people standing around the kitchen island.

All eyes go over to you guys and you can see the shock on everyone’s face. You wait for someone to say something and luckily Rossi finally does.

“This is Y/N, everyone.” He introduces you. He tells you everyone else’s name.

You smile at everyone and you and Spencer slowly start to merge with the group.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” Prentiss says.

She seems very nice, you already had heard so much about the team, you felt like you knew them.

“Weren’t you at the college campus we were at?” She asks.

You were surprised she remembered. They came to your college and did a presentation about what they do in the BAU. It’s actually where Spencer and you met.

“Ah! That’s where I recognized you from! You were the girl who knew everything about everything.” JJ jumps in.

You’re honored that’s what they remember about you. It’s not that you knew everything about everything, it’s just no one in your class know much about anything. So when they asked questions you were the only one who really answered.

“Well it’s good to see you again.” Prentiss says.

You nod, this is going a lot better than You’d thought.

“So how did you and Spencer get together?” They asks.

You are a bit embarrassed, it makes you feel even younger to explain how you started seeing each other.

“Well after the lecture I actually came up and asked him a couple follow up questions.” You had already thought he was attractive from the beginning of the lecture. “He answered most of them but gave me his card in case I had anymore questions. So I called him the next weekend.”

Now it’s been a couple months. Time is really flying by.

Spencer walks up beside you, you smile at him. You think he just wants make sure you are all getting along. You actually really like Prentiss and JJ.

“Can I get you guys any wine?” Rossi offers Spencer and You. That’s when You notice almost all the rest of the team has a glass of wine.

You look up at Spencer awkwardly and he scratches his head.

“She can’t uh-” He starts.

“I won’t be 21 for a couple more months.” You finish.

The team is all the sudden quiet, all the conversations that seemed to be had suddenly stopped.

Reid is quite a bit older than you He celebrated his 32nd birthday this last fall.

“So your 20?” Garcia clears up. Her and Morgan are standing together. You so would think they were together but from what You heard from Spencer that’s just how their relationship is.

You nod and everyone stays silent.

“Well I guess Reid isn’t the baby if the group anymore.” Derek finally days.

You don’t know whether to laugh or be insulted. You take a step closer to Spencer. His hand finds yours.

“ I mean we all were joking you would be perfect for him during the lecture.” Rossi says.

“Yeah, you sounded so much like him it was kind of scary. Having one Reid around is intimidating enough.” Hotch smiles.

You think Spencer was right. It was a little awkward at first but after they get to know you, your age difference won’t even be a thought in their mind.

You look up at Spencer and smile at him. He smiles at you and kisses your forehead.

Next you just have to worry about telling your parents.

“Taking Flight” Theory

So I’ve always had an interesting thought about this episode 

That maybe it could be a metaphor? It didn’t just have to do with the castle literally taking flight for the first time

So in this episode Pidge revealed that she was a girl to the team

This allowed her to accept herself for who she really is, instead of hiding behind someone she’s not. It also must have took a lot of confidence for her to do this, but the fact that she went through with telling them, means she gained a new found confidence, allowing her to take another step forward in her life. 

She metaphorically took flight in this way. 

Then there’s Keith 

So we know that before this episode took place, we had the classic and famous bonding moment

Here Keith had a one on one connection with Lance, something that I’m sure he’s never had with someone before (other than Shiro.) Meaning this moment was very important to him, here he went through an experience with someone that he’s never had. 

This must have made Lance special to him in his eyes, his first bond with someone, especially a person he usually doesn’t get a long with. I can only imagine this affected him so much on a personal level, but also on an emotional level too. 

When you experience something with someone that you’ve never had before, isn’t it safe to say that this is how you develop feelings for this person? This is only six episodes in, Keith has never had this. This is where his own feelings take flight. 

That’s portrayed in the next episode in literally the first scene

Keith acting impatient, wanting Lance to come out is pretty much portraying those feelings. Remember, the bonding moment was very important for him. I can’t even imagine how excited he probably was for Lance to come out so that they could continue this new relationship. Except Keith’s pretty abrasive, so that’s probably why his excitement was portrayed this way. 

He wants Lance to come out so that they can start where they left off and grow closer on a personal and emotional level. He feels closer to Lance here, we are literally seeing his feelings for him take off.

(Not to mention the fact that he was the longest to leave the pod when they all left to go look at their clocks, and I think the creators set up that scene on purpose just to portray how close he feels to Lance now, and that he doesn’t want to leave his side.)

If you remember in season two, this is how Keith was acting when Shiro was in the healing pod

He’s calm, he’s composed, he isn’t impatient and he doesn’t seem very worried

This clearly shows the difference in how he feels about them, Lance is able to make Keith act this way because of the events that occurred before and how those new feelings impacted him. He’s already used to Shiro, he knows him, he has no doubt that he’ll heal fast and get better soon. He doesn’t have to worry or be impatient. 

He’s still by his side because he’s close to him, but not in the way that he was with Lance. 

His feelings are also clearly portrayed in this moment with Lance, after he comes out of the pod

Lance flirts with Allura, everyone says their comments and then at the very end we hear Keith say “Classic.” and other than Allura he isn’t even looking at Lance (he’s also the farthest away from the group). This is a clear as glass portrayal of jealousy, he is jealous that Lance notices Allura and not him, that their bonding moment is clearly not important to him right now. 

Then Lance forgets the moment (which I’m sure he didn’t) and Keith does this

This is literally the face of rejection, Lance forgets an important moment between the both of them, a moment where he most likely started developing feelings for him. It’s really no surprise why he would act like this. But I feel like this moment was purposeful too, because it would have been way too early for anything to happen or start between them anyways. 

Except, in season two we got a pretty clear indication that Lance most definitely cares about Keith, even if he doesn’t express it around him. So maybe once he stops flirting with Allura and all of those other girls and literally looks at what’s right in front of him, maybe then he’ll finally find what he’s looking for?

After Hours [m]

pairing: reader x Yoongi

Genre: tattoed!yoongi, rapper!tyoongi, angst? fluff? smut, idk how to label this haha

word count: 16,212

warnings: graphic sexual content, alcohol, language

a/n: this is loosely based of Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist. i am v nervous about this as it isn’t the usual angst fueled plot I normally write. so if it’s crap, please be kind haha. i’m tagging the lovely @dimplecoups​ because i know you’ve been waiting for this. and @2seoke for always being the best babe.

Originally posted by lethargicmin

You looked in the mirror, making sure your face mask was properly in place. If you were going to look like a serial killer for the next 20 minutes, you at least wanted to look the part. Your bed was calling your name as you walked over to the soft mattress, choosing to ignore the missed calls and text messages from your best friend. This was the first Saturday night you had to yourself in months. No work. No brother. No best friend. You were free to do whatever you wanted.

Or at least that’s what you had originally intended. But as the door to your bedroom crashed open you soon realized that the night had other plans for you.

“Why haven’t you answered my calls?” your best friend Irene squealed as she plopped down at the foot of your bed. “It’s Saturday night and I know you don’t have to work tomorrow!”

You gave her a look. Well, you tried to give her a look to the best of your ability as the motions of your face was restricted by the sheet mask on top of it. “There’s a reason why I didn’t answer your calls. And just because my idiot brother gave you a key to our apartment doesn’t mean you can just waltz in here any time you want.”

Irene rolled her eyes, blowing a large bubble from the gum she was constantly chewing. She was clearly not amused at your disinterest on leaving your apartment tonight. You reached forward, popping it with your pointer finger. “You’re no fun, Y/N” she whined, collecting the gum back into her mouth.

“I can’t have fun when I’m always too busy taking care of you.” you quipped, reminding her of the last time the two of you went out. “I had to beg that cop not to give you a ticket for being drunk in public. Why aren’t you bothering my brother? I’m sure he would love to see you.”

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Open To Interpretation: Negan x Reader

Originally posted by jdm-negan-mcnaughty

A/N: Ya’ll. I’m so fuckin’ swamped in responsibility. I feel a lil guilty about coming back with something non-Rami but fuck it. Some other things I wanna say: Send me anything. Send me asks. I wanna answer you guys’ questions. Be nosy as hell. Also, I have something you might be interested in coming up after my birthday which is in like 2 weeks. Please feel free to request more Negan stuff, I’m branching out bitches.

Masterlist 

Warnings: Inappropriate teacher/student relationship (student is of legal age in the US and UK), smut, the usual. Also, I wrote the character a little more like myself bc I feel like I keep writing the same kind of reader and its getting tedious. Hit my inbox if this is you af. ALSO HIT MY INBOX IF YOU’VE EVER HAD ANY KIND OF TEACHER/STUDENT RELATIONSHIP? SPILL THE TEA I’M NOSY.

Word count: 4448  


“Preserving innocent life, orderly living in society, worshipping god, educating children, and reproducing.” His deep, gravelly voice fills the lecture hall. All his students are enraptured, a rare thing for many teachers. He pauses before continuing. “What are the issues with these precepts that Aquinas put forward?”

You bite your lip anxiously. Answering questions in class isn’t an issue for you, in fact your teachers often tell you to give the other students a chance, but your Philosophy and Ethics professor makes you somewhat nervous. Tall, late forties, gorgeous black beard with silver streaks and piercing hazel eyes. The recipe for a crippling medley of anxiety and attraction.

Despite this, impressing him and getting your grade is often the reason you manage to pluck up the courage to respond to his queries, his opinion of you is something you are very conscious of. You glance around the room to see no one has raised their hand. You decide to take one for the team, slowly lifting your arm from the desk.

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two rotten apples [m]

credit: x.

❛❛we’re next-door neighbors and have hated each other since middle school but now we’re going to the same university how can we avoid the other person like the plague so there isn’t a crime scene— what do you mean you promised my mom you would keep an eye on me???? you fucking planned this❜❜ AU

COUNT → 16.053

GENRE → smut | eventual angst

PAIRING → jungkook | reader

WARNINGS → dom and sub tones | spanking | hair pulling | praising | explicit language | female masturbation | graphic oral sex | penetration

LINKS → 1 | 2 | 3COMING SOON


There was always that one person at parties—that one person who hid in a bathtub somewhere so they didn’t have to contribute to society’s norms of choking on their own vomit and passing out cuddling a pink garden gnome.

Or maybe that was just you.

Then again, it wasn’t just any party you were hiding in a bathtub at—it wasn’t some rager that had frat boys downstairs chugging so much alcohol that their livers probably looked like fucking dried out asparagus—it was your high school graduation party. And maybe you’d attended only the lamest graduation parties in your eighteen years of life, but there was no alcohol here—only fruit punch. Yet, there you were, still hiding in a bathtub for some fucking reason with a piece of chocolate cake balanced in your lap.

You should probably reiterate that it was your party, which makes things worse since normally you don’t hide in a bathtub when you’re the guest of honor.

Normally—but this was not a normal circumstance.

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On Camera

Or that one time Lance decided to live-stream when he really should’ve been resting. The (established) klance YouTuber AU that no one asked for, but you’re all getting. Domestic klance sharing an apartment is my jam, and throwing a little angst in there is a bonus.

I’m actually really happy with this, and if people like it I might do an actual long AU thing with this setting, so feedback is appreciated! For now though, just a one-shot. This is also proof that the best writing for me happens at 3 AM… oops. I hope you enjoy!!

Psst @taylor-tut this is that thing I not-so-discreetly mentioned in my tags, have a wonderful day.


Lance McClain was a rulebreaker in every way, except for one thing. He believed it was always necessary to have a routine, and never stray from it. If asked, he’d inform you that a steady routine was the foundation for a steady life.

Showering every morning, brushing his teeth every night, thinking of a cheesy one-liner for Keith each day without fail, the list went on. Little things.

One of his many routines was to live-stream, always on Sundays. Because who did anything besides sit at home, definitely not with a hangover, on Sunday?

New videos went up on Wednesdays, but the carefully edited ones on YouTube and his live-streams were very different. Many fans even preferred seeing him live, mainly because he couldn’t stop himself from making bad jokes, and was usually too lazy to straighten his bedhead.

And they would always ask him to go bother Keith in the next room, which Lance more often than not was obliged to do.

So when he woke up late one Sunday with a killer headache and a stuffy nose, Lance wasn’t about to let it get in the way of his routine.

He discovered a note from Keith on the kitchen table that said he’d be out running errands, and Lance lamented that he hadn’t been awake to tell Keith to get soup. After shooting him a quick text, the only response Lance got was “You don’t even like soup.”

Lance chuckled softly, which quickly led to a series of wet coughs. Clearing his throat, he began to set up his camera, wrapped himself up in blankets, and started the stream.

“Hey guys,” he said with a small wave, and winced at how raspy his voice sounded. He sniffled, and edged the off-screen box of tissues closer to him.

The chat was quickly flooded with “HELLO”’s and “LANCE!”’s. By now, all the fans knew when he went live. Lance was, however, surprised to see several inquiries about his health.

There were quite a few “Are you okay”’s, and even some “You seem sick”’s, with one of Lance’s personal favorites being “You look like shit.”

He read off the last comment with a short laugh. “Thanks, KeiththeKutie05.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Nice name.”

After a short pause of him continuing to scan the chat, he spoke again. “I’m fine though, just got a cold or something. Nothing could stop me from live-streaming!”

As the viewers seemed satisfied with this response, Lance wasn’t surprised to see the usual repetition of “Where’s Keith?” in the chat. He sighed.

“Mullet Boy is running errands,” Lance told them, rolling his eyes for effect. “Probably going out to buy a new pair of fingerless gloves.”

Keith and Lance had been sharing an apartment for some time now, and the Internet was very invested in their relationship, or so it seemed. Keith was annoyed by the whole thing at first, but Lance found it entertaining that his fans seemed to like Keith better than him. Lance could, admittedly, relate.

Eventually, the accidental publicity that came with dating a YouTuber inspired Lance to make a collab channel for them, though Keith never got his own. He insisted that he was too awkward to film anything by himself, which Lance secretly found adorable.

Numerous people began telling Lance to prank Keith when he came back, to which Lance grinned. Playing tricks on Keith during live-streams had become somewhat of a tradition in and of itself. “Maybe I will,” Lance tapped his chin thoughtfully. “You guys got any ideas?”

Lance read through some of the responses but saw nothing particularly appealing, then perked up at someone asking when he’d do a video with Hunk again.

“Actually, I got some good news for you guys,” Lance declared, sneezing into his elbow before continuing. “Hunk and I are going to be playing videogames on Pidge’s channel sometime next week, and Hunk has both of us coming over to his and Shay’s for a baking video. I haven’t decided what we should do for my part yet. Maybe a Q & A?”

Once again, Lance’s eyes scanned through the suggestions until his eyes snagged on one he liked. “Cards Against Humanity, huh? With YouTube’s shitty new rules it could get demonetized, but I do love that game, so why not? I’m positive Pidge owns it, and I can tell them to bring it over. Maybe I can even convince Keith to play with us.”

Lance couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiastic response that got.

“I think I’m going to get myself some more coffee,” Lance decided, looking down at the empty mug resting on a coaster. “Last night Keith made me watch this really scary movie, so I naturally had trouble falling asleep. Gotta have coffee to keep myself functioning. Do you guys prefer coffee or tea? Keith and I are both coffee people, but he likes his black. No sugar or anything, disgusting if you ask me.”

Lance almost regretted this comment as a war of opinions on black coffee slowly took over his computer screen.

“Well, anyway, I’m gonna go to the kitchen real quick. I’d bring my laptop but… I’d probably spill coffee on it, and we can’t have that.”

Lance stood, and was about to start towards the next room when his vision abruptly blurred and refocused. He knew immediately something was wrong.

His legs felt like jelly, and the room seemed to spin as he took a single step forward. Had he only been fine when he was sitting? Lance had half the mind to sit right back down, but his brain was growing muddled, and direction simply didn’t make sense.

Lance’s migraine flared abruptly in intensity, and then suddenly the wood floor was rushing up to meet him. Everything went dark.


Keith glanced at his phone as he moved around to the back of the car, where he’d stored the groceries, and had to repress a fond smile at the Twitter notification on the screen. Lance was, apparently, live-streaming. Keith thought he might actually miss his time-slot for once, but he figured by now he should be used to the Cuban boy’s dedication to routine.

Lance’s channel got some negative feedback from more ‘sophisticated’ YouTubers for being… all over the place. A dedicated beauty guru, or PrinceLotor as his channel was called, had dragged Lance on Twitter on more than one occasion.

Lance was anything but consistent when it came to videos. He did whatever he felt like doing that week, and the fans loved it. Sometimes he played songs on his guitar, sometimes he did prank-calls. He would film Q&A’s, or tell stories about all the interesting stuff that happened in his life— Lance’s bad luck was rather famous. He recommended TV shows, did hauls of what he got for holidays, vlogged on occasion when he went to stores, you name it.

But Lance’s favorite thing to do were collabs.

Hunk, an incredibly smart engineer, had a baking channel as a hobby, and Lance was his favorite assistant.

Pidge was a newer gaming channel, but their obsession with theorizing about the game’s lore while playing and busting other fan theories made them grow in popularity quickly. For two player games, Lance was ideal.

Allura was an extremely popular beauty channel, and Lance let her give him makeovers whenever she wanted to. Shiro could use extra actors in his short films.

And Keith… well, the two of them had a channel together that had no pattern whatsoever, much to Lance’s dislike. Absolutely spontaneous and random, usually doing things by popular fan request, like dancing or karaoke. And uploads were by no means regular.

Keith was surprised at how much he had started to enjoy it. Lance had been telling him he should start an art channel, with animations and speedpaints and the like, and Keith wasn’t… that opposed to the idea. It could be a useful source of income, to help with all the debt he would come into after graduating college. But he’d never tell Lance.

Without thinking too much of it, Keith swiped right across his screen, taking him to Lance’s tweet about the live-stream in order to like it. He was about to close his phone again and begin taking groceries up to their apartment when his eyes snagged on something odd.

Lots of the replies to Lance’s tweet mentioned him, particularly the recent ones, even tagging him in it. Keith couldn’t fathom why they would be talking about him if he wasn’t on the stream, unless Lance was complaining about him live again.

Keith bristled. Lance better not be still annoyed at him for the movie the last night. Signs wasn’t scary at all, and not even a real horror movie! Lance simply stated that ‘he didn’t mess with aliens.’

But when he looked at all the mentions, Keith felt his irritation give way to confusion, and then panic.

“KEITH GET TO UR APARTMENT”, “YOU BETTER GO CHECK ON LANCE”, “HOLY SHIT HES COLLAPSED KEITH HURRY YA ASS UP”, and the one that really sent Keith reeling “UH GUYS IS IT JUST ME OR DID WE WITNESS LANCE’S DEATH ON CAMERA?”

Keith slammed the trunk, all groceries forgotten as he sprinted into the apartment building and ran for the stairs. They only lived on the third floor, and he was not about to wait for the slow, crowded elevator.

He fumbled to fit his key in the lock and opened the door to the living room, only to spot the live-streaming set up, with no Lance. Keith rushed forward, but drew up short when he realized that Lance was in fact passed out on the floor in front of the couch.

“Oh my god— Lance!” Keith sank down beside him, turning his boyfriend over. “Lance, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Lance’s eyes opened slowly, and Keith felt relief flood his system, despite the uncharacteristically pale skin. “K-Keith? Wha… I thought you were shopping?”

“I’m back,” Keith answered shortly, wincing as he pressed a hand onto Lance’s forehead. “Jeez, you’re on fire. Why didn’t you tell me you were this sick?!”

“Are you a fire?” Lance mumbled under his breath, and Keith furrowed his brows in confusion.

“What? No, Lance, I was saying you have a fever.”

“Because you’re hot and I want s'more,” Lance continued, as if he hadn’t heard him at all. Keith was suddenly painfully aware that the live-stream was still going, and that his face was even more flushed than Lance’s, and not because of a fever.

Keith glanced at the computer sitting on the coffee table briefly, noting that most of the chat was full of random keyboard smashing. He smiled apologetically. “At least he’s conscious,” he shrugged, hoisting Lance up off the floor and propping one of his arm’s around Keith’s shoulder. “I’m going to take this idiot to the hospital, he’s way too hot.”

“So you finally admitted it,” Lance’s voice was barely audible, and Keith glanced back down to see him grinning up at Keith tiredly.

“I meant your temperature, dumbass. Next time, tell me when you’re not feeling well.”

And with that, he shut off the stream.