future babble

anonymous asked:

Corrodedark pls *-* (I'm in love with that ship) Aaaand... can I marry your art style?? You are so good at drawing :3 Byeeeee

aaah thank you. but don’t worry, theres plenty of corrodedark to be had on this blog. if you havent noticed, its kinda the main ship on my dark youtubers stuff lol. Its probably one of the few potentially fluffy ships of that au.

anonymous asked:

how did you end up with mismatched shoes? where they good looking shoes? can we hear one of you voice memos

we were leaving in a hurry because we’re perpetually late to things and i wasn’t paying attention lol. they were probably tennis shoes? or possibly one tennis shoe and one dress shoe even?? the story changes depending on which family member tells it and it’s been years

IN MY DEFENSE no one else noticed either until we actually got to the library and met up with my grandparents, who were like “um. was that on purpose” “was what – NO IT WAS NOT”

and ffff sure, there’s one here because i long ago graduated from the “haha can’t believe you guys are making me sing” friend to the “CAN I PLEASE SING” friend

#196: when he falls in love with you

Mark: 4:00AM on a Thursday morning. He had school in just a few hours and knew he should be sleeping, but he couldn’t think about school right now.. Not when your voice was in his ear through the phone receiver, spilling thoughts to him that he knew that no one else knew. “What about you?” you ask. “What?” Mark replies, smiling. He wished he could see you. “What do you think about it?” you ask. He thinks for a moment, realizing he hadn’t said much in the past few minutes, but now you were asking, now you were giving him the chance to speak unlike a lot of other people.. And he knew he loved you then.

Junior: Noon on a Sunday. The sun leaked through the windows enough to see the dust in the air, and the sound of people bustling outside meant that it was too late to be in bed, but here you both were: still in bed. He sighed a happy sigh as he opened his eyes, knowing you would be there. And you were. “Hey,” he says gently, reaching over to your cheek. You groan. Sleep is in your voice, and there’s bags under your eyes, but he was just happy to see you. “Hey,” you say back quietly. Your eyes close again, and he chuckles, looking at you engulfed with the pillows and blankets with messy hair and blemished skin, but he never felt so lucky. And then he thought about telling you, right then and there, because he knew he loved you then.

JB: Midnight on a Friday night. He saw you from his window. It wasn’t that he was spying on you or something, but he just happened to be looking outside and there you were, sitting at the curb with your face in your hands. And so he came to see you. “What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting down next to you. You chuckle, knowing that your best friend JB would never let you sit out here alone. “Nothing,” you say, grinning up at him. He wondered if you were lying, but it didn’t matter because you rest your head on his shoulder and all that mattered in that moment was the feeling of having you next to him. And he knew he loved you then.

Jackson: 3:00PM on a Saturday afternoon. He knew you were mad at him, but he knew he had to try anyway. “Come on,” he nags. He was sitting, back leaned up against your apartment door, waiting for you. “Just leave me alone,” you say, weakly this time. You were tired of trying to shoo him away, but you couldn’t let him in, either. You sat at the floor of your apartment door, too, leaned against it as tired as Jackson was. He closed his eyes, thinking of you and what he could do to make things right. He wondered what it would be like to never see you again… and then he decided that he couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let you go. And he knew he loved you then.

BamBam: 8:00 on a Monday morning. The first day of school was filled with usually the same things: reunited excitement, new teachers, the presentation of a newfound maturity over the summer holidays, and of course, new students. You were new — he knew that almost instantly because there was no way he’d ever forget seeing someone like you around before. His eyes locked into yours as you walk in, sitting down a few seats ahead of him. There’s a jolt of happiness, then curiosity, and he knew he had to know you. And maybe he didn’t know yet, but he loved you then.

Youngjae: 11:00PM on a Tuesday night. He always got home from practice this late. His body was sore and ached. All he wanted to do was to climb into bed with you. Usually you were asleep in bed by now, but as he opened the door quietly, he saw you there, on the couch, instead. “What are you doing?” he whispers, trying not to laugh. He puts his hand on your shoulder as you wake up immediately. “I was waiting for you,” you say, yawning. He laughs, “You didn’t have to wait.” “I wanted to,” you say back. He smiles, asking himself how he got so lucky to have someone like you. “Come here,” he says, helping you up. “Let’s go to bed,” he adds softly, and hand-in-hand, both of you head upstairs, soon meeting sleep. And he knew he loved you then.

Yugyeom: 6:00AM on a Friday morning. He was leaving, which was no surprise. He travelled all the time, but for some reason this time felt different. This time he had to say good bye to you. There was a part of him that was embarrassed — embarrassed to kiss and hug you good bye, so he slept at the dorms that night, and texted you instead. But the minute he got on the plane, he was submerged into a sinking feeling of guilt, of missing you. His heart ached, thinking about your hug and the warm smell of your apartment. The plane was about to take off, but right before it did, he texted you one last thing: “I’m sorry I had to leave, but I’ll see you soon. Miss you already. I love you.” And that moment when he admitted it… he knew he loved you then.

Idk- nora/pyrrha figuring out a valentines thing (im sleepy and shouldn’t be writing this)

-

*pyrrha.and.nora.eating.at.vale.market.food.court*

Pyrrha: Um- Nora.

Nora: Hm? *sips.on.soda*

Pyrrha: what do you usually get Ren for Valentine’s day-

Nora: *violently.spits.out.soda*

*cough* I-uh um…- *ahem*

W-w- What makes you ask that? It’s notlikemeandhimareacoupleoranythinglikethatHAHAHA-that'sproposterousandwowthatwouldbereallyniceandamazing, I.MEAN.LIKE.HAVE YOU.SEEN.HIM? 

Pyrrha: *wipes.soda.from.face*

Nora… 

Nora: Dust, sorry- what were we talking about again?

Pyrrha: Ren… Valentines day?

Nora: Oh! Well… what I usually do for Ren…- I.MEAN- what I would usually get for Ren… are- handmade paper valentine cards, you know- no big deal *ahem*

Pyrrha: Really?

Nora: Yeah, all the time! Sometimes I just make him cards out of the blue and AAAH! I swear, I would get SO KISSED.

Pyrrha: So kissed?

Nora: All the kisses. He’s so sweet~

Pyrrha: Hmm, that does sound sweet.

(bah finish later)

A private moment

Anonymous said: This is insane, but a fic on Felicity walking in on teenage Tommy maybe, and immediately starts babbling to the max. Kinda the opposite of Oliver helping Emmy, but Felicity walked in on a private moment of Tommy’s. If you’re catching my drift.

Hi, anon!
I don’t think that this is as good as Daddy’s duty (because I am not that good with awkward babble moments), but I hope you will like this nonetheless. ;)


It had been a horribly long day filled with horribly boring meetings about horribly uninteresting topics. Her feet and back hurt like hell, and the constant throbbing in her head didn’t add anything to make her feel better, either. So all Felicity wanted was falling into her bed and sleep for like twenty-four hours straight.

Keep reading

2

- bitesizedwizard request

00:13AM

That’s what the lab’s clock read.

So that meant that you and Banner had been up discussing genetics and mutation for four hours now (and everyone else had already turned in for the night.) It wasn’t like you minded though, in fact it was quite the opposite: you loved talking to Banner about all things science and had found a mutual interest in mutation genetics especially.

“-and particularly, if we were to isolate the DNA code from mutants with previous mutatious generations, then we would be able manipulate the gene and programme technology to register certain aspects in the genes and predict future mutants,” Banner babbled excitedly as he continued with his experiment on the lab table.

Nodding, you replied, with similar glee, “Exactly! And if we were to continue that, we could identify mutants in the past and see where they originated from. I think Switzerland has already began trying the process but if the US Government were to agree to the funding of the labs, we’d be able to trace back early members before Switzerland had even identified the vital codes in the genes.”

“Precisely,” Banner agreed, shooting you a grin as he tore off his plastic gloves and washed his hands in the sink. “You know, I can’t even talk about mutation to Tony. He’s more of an enginerical man himself, and certainly isn’t fussed about discussing genetics, let alone mutation.”

You smiled -urgh, and felt a warm blush creep across your cheeks- and averted your gaze to the floor before you lost yourself in his eyes again. But looked up again when you felt his warm hand on your waist and realised that he was mere inches away from you now.

“It is awfully late,” he mumbled, his voice oddly husky. “You should’ve gone to bed ages ago…”

“Wasn’t tired,” you whispered, eyes locked on his now and you couldn’t shift your eyes from his lips when he sucked his lower through his teeth.

Quirking an eyebrow, he huffed and muttered, “Typical scientist,” before he was leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

Momentarily stunned, you quickly recovered and threaded your hand into his hair, letting your eyes fall close and parting your lips to receive his. He brushed his tongue against your bottom lip for confirmation before he plunged it into your mouth and curled it around your own. You grazed your teeth across his tongue and lips and felt a rush of heat when he gasped quietly into your mouth.

Curling a warm palm around your waist, he pulled you flush against his body and you felt his cock, hard - and fucking massive, by the feel of it- pressing into your crotch and stomach. He rocked against you and pushed you back until you felt you back hit a wall and he just continued to push you into it until it was almost painful.

He lifted you up, with surprising strength- but which you assumed had something to do with the other guy-, and you instinctively wrapped your thighs around his hips and ground down on his crotch had he pressed you into the wall harder with each kiss.

Breaking apart from your lips, he planted heated kisses all the way down to your neck where he latched lips and teeth on the dip in your throat and sucked bruises into the soft skin there. A long, loud groan escaped your lips and you let your head fall back in bliss.

Gods, you wished all scientists could be as good as this.

#203: things in his room

Mark: There were regular, everyday  typical things in his room, like dirty t-shirts crumpled in a corner, a pile of papers in a corner that had math homework on them… but then there were things that weren’t so typical – like a notebook, opened up to a page with scribbles all over it that looked like song lyrics… and then a skateboard that leaned on the wall inside the open closet. “Don’t tell me you want to try it,” he chuckles as he sees you eyeing it. You both sit on the bed, setting up his laptop to watch a movie. And now you were in his room, too.

Junior: You knock over a stack of books as you opened the door to his room. Books covered the floor – some opened with notes written inside, some with bookmarks, some with papers hanging out of them.. Then, under the window, a small framed picture of you together, and then next to it, a sleepy Jinyoung that was just waking up. He picks up a pair of glasses from the nightstand, smiling as he sees you. “Hey,” you say. “Hey,” he says back as you sit down next to him on the bed. And now you were in his room, too.

JB: It was like a dark abyss – dark curtains that kept out the sun, dark bed sheets that looked like a black sea, and dark clothes that scattered the floor of the room.  The only thing that wasn’t dark, though, was his head that glowed from behind his laptop screen. “I didn’t know you were coming,” he says, closing the laptop and swinging his legs over the bed, “I would have cleaned up.” You laugh, knowing he probably wouldn’t, and set down a container of  food all while seeing happiness in his eyes as he picked up utensils and handed you some, too.  And now you were in his room, too.

Jackson: It was cleaner and simpler than you expected. There weren’t work out clothes scattering the floor or magazines or shoes or even posters on the light white walls. There was a bed under the window, neatly made, and then a desk with a few books about the benefits of organic green tea and then a pair of dumbbells on the floor in front of the closed closet. Next to bed, though, was a tiny nightstand, and on the nightstand was a small framed family picture, with Jackson’s arms wrapped around his parents tightly. And now you were in his room, too.

BamBam: Clothes were everywhere – literally everywhere. You couldn’t see the floor because it was covered in sweaters, shirts, jeans,  and shoes (especially shoes). “You have to clean this up,” you say, laughing as he was almost hidden away in his closet that was overflowing with clothes. “Later,” he says, and a pair of pants come flying in your direction. “Help me decide what to wear first!” “What are the options?” you ask. “You’re looking at them,” he says, laughing. You pick up a few contenders, attempting to walk into his direction. And now you were in his room, too.

Youngjae: The home of his small keyboard was in the corner of the room without a spec of dust as it waited to be played. Next to it was a very neat desk, notebooks and papers piled high in the centre with an even higher stack of CDs in the other. The bed was probably the only messy part of the room – the sheets overturned and a music player that blasted soft R&B through the headphones lay on the pillow. “So this is it,” he said, grinning as you walked in. He sees you eyeing the music player on the bed. “Want to listen?” he asks. You smile, then nod, and now you were in his room, too.

Yugyeom: You weren’t even sure what exactly everything was because everything was everywhere. Crumpled papers littered the floors, clothes hung lazily from the bed frame, on the tops of the dresser, and on door handles, and random posters clung to the dingy gray walls. “Sorry,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his head, “A bit of a mess, but I’ll get it.” He crawls on the floor, pushing things out of the way until you’re able to walk near his bed that looked like had definitely been slept in a lot. “Sit?” he offers, and pulls out his school books. And now you were in his room, too.