i need to dye it soon

Birthday Cake (Evan/Connor)

This is dedicated to @connorxxmurphy and her wonderful cake! This is for you! 

—–

Evan hummed to himself as he stirred the cake batter. Soft instrumental music played in the background as the oven beeped, signifying that it was preheated.

Evan was making a cake for his boyfriend. Ever since he was little, Evan has always enjoyed baking, but now he had a reason to make a birthday cake for someone!

“How are you doing, Hon?” Heidi poked her head into the kitchen. Evan smiled warmly at her, and started to pour the batter into the pan.

“Good, Mom. It should be ready around 6, and Con and I are having a date here at 7.” He said. Heidi beamed.

“I will get out of the house by then, in that case, don’t want to ruin a special birthday date!” Heidi walked over to her son and rubbed his arms. “Do you have anything else planned for tonight?”

“Yup. Ordering pizza, and I have his favorite movie. For a gift, I got him a new hoodie, and the cake.”

“Aw, Evan, you are the sweetest boyfriend. Connor is going to love it.” Heidi gave Evan a small kiss on the cheek, one last arm squeeze, and walked out of the kitchen. Evan put the pan full of cake batter in the oven, and set the timer.

As he started to make the frosting, Evan let his thoughts travel. Connor and Evan had been dating for about five months now, every day better than the last, but this was the first birthday they had spent together. Evan wanted it to be perfect, and the one thing he knew for sure that he could make perfectly was cake. He hoped that Connor liked his new hoodie as well. Evan has been guilty of stealing a few (or more) of his boyfriend’s hoodies, but he couldn’t help it! All of his hoodies were constantly warm and smelled like Connor.

Evan finished the frosting (It was a regular green frosting with a hint of a mint taste) and set it to the side. The cake still have 10 minutes to bake, so texting Connor seemed like the most attractive idea right now.

Evan: hey connor!

Evan: how does it feel to be an old man now? youre officially 18!!

Connor: i kinda want to take a nap

Evan: con… its 5:30 in the evening, plus we have our special birthday date at 7… pls dont sleep

Connor: bah humbug

Evan: babe…. Thats christmas

Connor: what are you up to?

Evan: stuff hbu

Connor: very specific

Evan: shut up

Connor: im gonna take a shower i will text you when im on my way to your house

Evan: okie dokie!! See you soon!!

Evan put down his phone. There was a few more minutes on the cake, so Evan pulled out the rest of his supplies. He would need to wait for the cake to cool before frosting, but Evan was always impatient when it came to baking.

A mint bar, some sprinkles and more green food dye. Connor liked mint, so Evan couldn’t help but go all out for his boyfriend.

An hour later, everything was set up. The cake was frosted, and was sitting in the fridge (to hide from Connor). Evan had ordered the pizza, and it should arrive around the same time that Connor comes over. Evan’s phone buzzed.

Connor: i know im early but is it cool if i come over now

Evan: of course

Connor: see you in ten?

Evan: yes!

Almost exactly eight minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” Evan said, shoving the cake haphazardly into the fridge. Heidi came downstairs as Evan reached the door. He opened the door with great flourish. “Happy birthday Connor!” He shouted as his boyfriend came into view.

Connor was wearing his standard black hoodie and jeans. His hair was pulled back into a bun, and he was smiling.

“Thank you! How are you doing, babe?” Connor stepped into the house, giving Evan a quick kiss on the lips. Heidi walked in, and hugged Connor.

“Happy birthday!” Heidi said. Connor smiled. “Now, I will get out of your hair. Have fun you two!” In a flash, Heidi was gone.

“Ready to watch the movie?” Evan asked, grabbing Connor’s hand. Connor beamed at him, and let his boyfriend lead the way.

A few hours and a pizza later, Evan had decided that it was time for gifts.

“Babe, you really didn’t need to get me anythi-” Connor tried to protest as Evan ran out of the room to get his gift.

“Shush!” Evan called back, grabbing the hoodie. He didn’t bother wrapping it. “Happy birthday, Connor!” Evan wasn’t going to lie, he almost felt jealous about the look of pure joy that Connor had on his face when he saw the jacket.

“Evan!” Connor had simply exclaimed before slipping the jacket on. It was a good fit, amid the sleeves that went a little past Connor’s hands. “Thank you so much!” Evan kissed Connor before standing up again.

“I got one more thing for you,” He said before going into the kitchen. This time, Connor didn’t protest, only watched him go with wide eyes.

Evan brought out the cake with obvious pride. Connor’s jaw dropped as Evan placed the cake on the table in front of him.

“Ev…” Connor said in a breathy voice. Evan lit one of the candles that was placed in the center and sat down next to Connor.

“Happy birthday to you,” He started to sing softly. Evan was by no means a talented singer, but this was a special occasion. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Connor, happy birthday to you!” Evan kissed Connor’s cheek and rested his chin on Connor’s shoulder. “Make a wish babe.”

Connor started to lean towards the cake but instead turned to Evan and kissed him deeply. It was only when Connor pulled away that Evan realized that Connor was crying. He quickly blew out the candle and hugged Evan tightly burying his face in Evan’s shirt.

“Hey. what is wrong?” Evan asked softly, feeling panicked. Did he not like the cake? Instead of responding, Connor just shook his head. After a few moments, Connor inhaled a shuddering breath and pulled out of the hug. Evan was quick to wipe away Connor’s tears. “Is it the cake? Is it too much?”

Connor laughed a watery laugh. “No, it’s not the cake. It is just, no one has ever done this much for my birthday, like ever. It means a lot to me.” Evan smiled, and moved close to his boyfriend.

“Alway, Connor. If I could, I would get the moon for you.” At Evan’s words, Connor smiled brightly, and kissed him. “Now, let’s get some cake, okay?”

Q&A Saturday!

It’s Q&A Saturday! I’ve gotten a lot of new followers recently, so I just want to explain again that every other Saturday, it’s Q&A! It’s when I try to answer as many of your questions as I can! <3 This week I’m doing questions I wasn’t able to answer when my pen broke, so that’s why I didn’t make an announcement, but! You’re welcomed to send any questions you want for next Q&A or to be answered soonish with text! This post btw is non-squid! There will be a squid ver soon!

I’m not sure if you meant the pillow defense thing or just pillow kisses in general but I hope this is okay! <3

Not that he is very romantic, but he is less guarded of his heart than Garrett (but they both take a loooooong time to come to terms that they’re in love)! But in almost any universe, Dario is the first to say “I love you” but Garrett doesn’t take long to catch up  💕

While I mostly welcome shipping, Garrett is exclusively gay (side note: Dario is bisexual and Mei is aromantic) and he’s not really Mei’s type anyways LOL They’re good bros tho! 

(It’s a really sensitive topic for Dario)

I’m not sure if they would ever be ready for kids, but I drew this before so here you go! <3 I’m not sure about the name yet, but she’s got her dad’s love of sports and her other’s dad love of goofing off! 

She’s both “what their kid would look like” and their adopted daughter if they get one, because they just love her to death <3 

I’m sort of anti-genderbend (sorry!) It’s something I try to avoid, but I do have a rough draft from when I designed Kathy as a genderfluid boy! Using he/they, Keith is a gentle guy with a love for music!

(Sorry, I got serious vibes from Susan/Mandark’s hippie days LOL)

ROAR. (Imagine a soft honk) Also that’s probably because Dario is a lionhead bun! <3 Lionhead buns are called that because, you guess it, they have a mane around their faces! All my buns have set breeds that made them look that way (like Kathy/Jaleena being dwarf buns)

AAA! I’m glad you can! I’m worried my Spanish is iffy sometimes so I’m happy to hear this! Please let me know if I ever make mistakes! <3 And thank you for your nice words!  (I need to incorporate more Spanish dialogue with Dario/Gabby/Cable too)

It’s very rare, but the last one I watched was Mob! It was a good show ; O ; 

The answer, though, is yes, they do! Garrett gets cuddly and Dario welcomes it! And for reference, here is my NSFW blog! Tread with caution!

Oo! Dario’s perf idea of a date would be taking Garrett to try something outdoors and fun, like swimming, hiking, rock climbing, etc! Garrett’s not really into exercise, though, and rather spends their date watching movies at home with takeout. But! I think they would both agree that their favorite dates are the time they spend together in private (like watching the stars, cuddling in bed, taking naps together). Dario loves it most when Garrett falls asleep on him, and Garrett loves it most when Dario opens up to him during their talks.

Whoa! It’s nice to see excitement like this, aa! Q v Q Yes, Garrett loves watching Dario work out and play sports! He admires his athleticism! Dario’s fave sports is soccer and track, with an occasional baseball and basketball for fun! I’m not sure what he’d be bad at, probably anything that requires thinking/accuracy? Like archery, golfing, etc. And Dario does get hurt a lot but nothing really all that serious, and Garrett (so far) hasn’t been hurt yet watching (especially since he tends to watch from a distance, he doesn’t like crowds). And I can’t reveal any details, I def need to work on their stories soon, haha!

Yes, he has! Dario’s hair is a very dark brown but he dyes it to a lighter brown!

LOL It’s also funny because I’ve drawn him in one of Shakira’s outfit before

Now that I got my pen back, YES! I’m excited to draw my boys again! <3 And welcome all my new followers to my blog! Thank you for following and I really hope you enjoy your stay!


That’s all the asks I can answer for today! Thank you for all the questions! I hope you enjoyed this, it was was a lot of fun to do! Please don’t hesitate to send me more to answer next time and see you all next Saturday! <3

Thanks for reading! Bye! Love you all and have a lovely weekend!! <3

I am posting this video for those who feel a little disheartened, and are losing their faith, after watching the scene between Jon and D. in 7.06, and for those who are going to feel, even more disheartened, by the scene we’ve yet to see in 7.07.

I find it hilarious, how Kit said this sentence with such innocence, and yet it came out so, so wrong, and he only realizesd how wrong it sounded, only half a second, after, the sentence had already come out his mouth, bless his heart. 😂 

“I’d like to put myself into a wolf“, which absolutely, everyone, in that room took as, “I’d like to put my “sword” into a “wolf”. 😏🤣

Now, this “misinterpretation”, led to Dan giving us such a sweet Easter Egg 🙃 Pay attention to what Dan B. Weiss replies to what Kit said, “l’ve got two
words for you, Season 6, Season 6.“, and what happened in season 6? Yep, you guessed it, Jon and Sansa reunited.

And well, we all know, how their scenes were filmed/directed from then and onwards. Tender forehead kisses, lingering looks, lip staring contests, sweet touches, sweet head caressing, sweet hand grabbing/holding, just sweetness, so much sweetness between the two of them, scenes in cadle lit rooms, fighting, and then heavily panting because of it, literally like a married couple, Jon cloaking Sansa into his old cloak, Sansa cloaking Jon into a Stark cloak, made by her, one that looks just like the one, Ned, used to wear, and that he wears almost at all times.

We got, “I’ll never let him TOUCH you again. I’ll protect you, I promise. *almost punches Ramsay to death.”, and “TOUCH my sister and I’ll kill you myself. *almost chokes LF to death*“, and “Does she miss me terribly? *silence and death stare from Jon*”, and “What you did for her, is the ONLY reason I’m not killing you.”, and “You’re as far from Joffrey as ANYONE I’ve ever met.”, and the list can go on, and on.

My fellow Jonsa shippers, Dan B. Weiss, LITERALLY, confirmed Jonsa, by telling us, that Jon will make love to/put himself into a wolf, and that it’ll all start in season 6. The “wolf” is not Arya, for obvious reasons, so that leaves us with Sansa.

I just want to add that this was filmed before even season 5 aired. D&D planned
Jonsa to happen a long time ago, it was not a decision of the moment. I read somewhere that they had planned since season 2, to marry Sansa to Ramsay, and then reunite her with Jon in season 6. They made all the changes, so that they’d reunite as soon as possible, to build their relashionship up, to subtly build them up for romance. Also, I read that early on, Sophie asked why she needed to dye her hair red, and that she was told, her having red hair is, very, important for the plot/story, and well, we all know Jon likes redheads, so there ya go. 

Have faith, and patience, sweetlings, Jonsa is Coming.

My Favorite Person [Connor Murphy x Reader]

Title: My Favorite Person
Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader
Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen
Requested: by the lovely @rinzix
Summary: College!Friends with benefits | You’re thankful to have a friend like Connor, for more reasons than one, but you’re fun may soon be coming to an end, and Connor isn’t feeling like himself
Warnings: mentions of sex | Connor has a potty mouth | mentions of mental health relapses and recovery | brief allusions to domestic violence | first person reader
A/N: This was such a wonderful, fun prompt and it reeaallly got away from me, so I apologize in advance. Essentially, the summary is I will probably never let Connor Murphy be happy. As always, it’s really rushed and I didn’t proof read. Enjoy?


It never starts the way I expect it to.

Don’t get me wrong–I’m not complaining. It just doesn’t work out the way it does in the movies, ya know? I’ve never gotten a text at eleven pm asking me to sneak across the campus to his conviently empty dorm room, never received anything remotely similar to a booty call. It started on accident, like everything else Connor Murphy does. He doesn’t understand the sort of pull he has on people.

Connor Murphy was an absolute octopus, first off. I woke up early–much earlier than he ever would–underneath a pile of pale, lithe limbs that seemed to tangle around me in a number of places. I was sticky–definitely sweaty from sleeping too close to Connor, who apparently fell asleep on top of me like some kind of animal, but I also felt an uncomfortable squish between my thighs that reminded me of the drastic turn of events that happened last night.

To be perfectly clear, this wasn’t the first time we had done this. The first time had been planned–an accidental mishap that had spiraled out of control, beginning with texts (“Hey, would you mind to model for a piece I’m working on? I can’t find any decent reference poses online.”) and ended with some not so appropriate banter (“Are we sexting? Is this sexting? I mean I’m horny but like it’s gotta be smoother than this, right? Shit, do you have nudes??) that had snowballed into an agreement: we could fool around, platonically, because being in college and being ridiculously horny all the time and balancing a decent relationship was one thing too many.

Still, our first few times had been planned: I’d come over for pizza when Connor’s roommate was out, we’d play video games and watch a movie, and, at some point, Connor would lean over with little to no warning and kiss me much too roughly, taking me off guard–it usually either dissolved into a fit of giggles or ended up with me on my back staring up at the smooth column of his throat, watching his pale adams apple dip briefly as he groaned into my hair.

The sun was up, shining obnoxiously through Connor’s too thin quilted curtains, filtering across our tangled bodies. My shirt was still on, thankfully–I had no idea when his roommate would be back–but Connor was entirely nude (save for a pair of tie-dye tube socks, I can’t believe I slept with him while he was wearing that), sprawled on top of me, all pale skin and angles. From here, I could see the knobs of his spine pressing against the thin, pale skin of his back where my hand rested. One of his hands was fisted tightly in the fabric of my shirt, just over my stomach, and the other was dangling off the edge of the  bed, his thin wrist almost comically looking as if it would snap.

The smell of him was overwhelming, of course, it always was. I could still taste him if I ran my tongue across the backs of my teeth. I’d need a long shower to scrub away the smell if I wanted to think coherently today–Connor was definitely my favorite person, the only real  friend I’d made at school so far, but the very smell of him was going to make my brain short circuit.

We needed to have a discussion, needed to stop doing this every time we hang out. A limit. I sighed, remembering. We were going to have to have a talk anyway.

Reaching up gingerly, I ran my fingers against the knots on his back, tracing the triangles of his scapula and cupping the back of neck to run my fingers through the curls. His hair needed washed, badly, but I didn’t mind, just continued to soothe, feeling him sigh in his sleep against my neck. I grinned, feeling his nose press more firmly against the juncture of my neck and shoulder.

“Why are you awake?” He slurred, lips wet where they brushed my skin. His limbs went taunt, stretching before rolling over off of me, his arms slinging against his eyes.

“Ugh, can you cover up?” I groaned, sitting up and pulling a blanket to pool in my lap, trying to look anywhere but Connor. “It’s daylight now, it’s too vivid.”

He just chuckled, running his hands to scrub at his face in an attempt to wake up, pushing tangled curls out of his eyes, grinning at me. “Sorry, geez. Didn’t hear you complaining last night.” Nonetheless, he yanked the blanket over his lap, rolling over to look at me with a smirk.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked, tapping my forehead with his thumb, before leaning over to kiss me there. He didn’t move away, just hovered over me on an elbow, and surrounded by his scent left me vaguely dizzy. I’d miss it when I left here, I knew.

I scrunched my nose, letting him know that the affection was unnecessary, but he kept leaning over, pressing another kiss to my temple.

“I don’t remember,” I sighed honestly. “You kinda kept me up till two am.”

“What time is it now?”

“One.”

“Christ, sorry,” he laughed, sitting up immediately and pushing his hair back. “Guess I tired you out, huh?”

“Don’t get cocky. We were talking until twelve thirty, you only last half an hour, bucko,” I said, crawling quickly out of the bed and tugging on my panties.

“Ouch! Didn’t hear you complaining,” he chuckled, pulling his hair back into a ponytail holder. He was planning to let me shower first, then.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, and I could tell that was the end of the discussion. We had a habit of skirting the topic during the daylight hours–if we talked about it, then we thought about it, and if we thought about it, then–well, you get the picture. “I’m gonna shower.”

——

By the time I’m out, my hair combed in wet strands sticking to the back of my neck and dressed in a clear pair of panties and one of Connor’s bigger shirts, Connor is sprawled on the bed, fully dressed, staring at a worn copy of T.S. Eliot poems, the green cloth binding fraying between his lithe fingers. The steam from the shower followed me in the room, making it look like a hazy 1970s Polaroid, accompanied by the warm light trying desperately to filter into the room through Connor’s quilted curtains.

He’s brushed his hair, I noticed, and there’s a lingering scent of cologne in an attempt to mask the smell of him–of us, if I’m being entirely honest–without showering. I nearly snorted aloud when I saw what he was wearing.

“That’s my shirt, you know,” I choked out between laughter, unable to believe that Connor fucking Murphy is wearing my tie dye crop top with a pair of ratty grey sweatpants. It was big on him, with a little pink embroidered heart stitched messily over the chest. The sweatpants rode high on his square hips, so all I could see was the slope of his ribs into the flat plain of his stomach, his belly button barely peaking out over the elastic waistband of his boxers, which rode a little higher than the sweats.

He looked up from the book, grinning lethargically, letting me know he was still barely awake. I probably should’ve let him sleep longer, but I needed to leave soon, and I wanted to tell him goodbye.

“I know,” he sighed lazily. “You left it here last time. It’s really soft.”

I bit back my smile, crossing the room to sit beside him. “Fair enough,” I conceded, tucking back a piece of hair that was beginning to slip from his ponytail.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he pointed out, pouting his bottom lip.

“I forgot to bring a clean one,” I lied.

“You know you have extras here,” he said, suddenly frowning and returning to his book. I paused, unsure what had caused the sudden mood shift, and wanted to be careful moving forward in the conversation. “I mean, you can always borrow mine, I don’t care or anything–”

“You don’t want anyone to see me wearing it, I get it, I’ll switch back before I leave,” I said reassuringly, scooting away half an inch to give him space. It was easy to overload Connor–it wasn’t his fault, I really did understand. Sometimes social interaction was too much, especially when I’d spent almost twenty four hours with him, and we’d been so intimate.

“Fuck, I don’t care about that,” he hissed, flipping the pages of his book much too rapidly to be actually reading them. “Do you care about that?”

The second statement was shorter, softer, almost as if he didn’t want me to hear. It made me nervous–Connor had been doing better, a lot better. Throwing himself into school, into art, made him better. He wasn’t recovered–it was hard to tell if he ever would be, and I’d only ever seen a few of his episodes, but any form of relapse that I couldn’t help him control was unwanted.

“Of course I don’t care, Con,” I said softly, reaching up to soothe his hair softly, feeling him stiffen and relax beneath my fingertips. “Jeez, we’re in college. I couldn’t care less what people think.”

He nodded, eyes creased before closing, his lips pressed together in a frown. “Right, right, you’re right, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I muttered, feeling nervous. He certainly wasn’t in any mood to hear my news. Something was on his mind. “You good?”

“Huh? Yeah! Great, don’t sweat it!” He some how managed to morph his deer in the headlights expression into one of enthusiasm.  It was more than concerning, and I hadn’t noticed when he’d developed the ability to swallow back his feelings. I didn’t know why he felt like he needed to. “What’s the plan for today, kiddo? There’s a Clark Gable marathon on TCM tonight, I know you like that black and white crap.”

Shit. I swallowed thickly, realizing I needed to tell him, and now. I was hoping it would wait until at least after we had food in us, or at least until Connor was awake enough to reign in his emotions and think with a level head.

“When’s your roommate getting back?” I asked instead, scratching at the back of my neck and not meeting his gaze. I felt him squint angrily at me, aware of my avoidance. “Don’t want him to walk in on anything unseemly,” I laughed.

Connor was still watching me, I felt it, with a pinched, calculated expression. “We don’t have to fool around tonight,” he said softly. “We can just hang.”

His voice was that soft, melancholy tone again that made my heart constrict. He wasn’t feeling good, I realized. He clearly thought that I was upset with him–I wasn’t, but I realized with a jolt that my news certainly wasn’t going to help his sudden self conscious streak.

I shifted on the bed again, feeling his eyes on me as I delayed, and I could practically see his inner turmoil. I should stay here with him. He wasn’t doing well. But, I’d promised….

“Um,” I mumbled, pushing back my wet hair with my hand. “About that. I, uh, have plans for tonight.”

His eyebrows took a quick hike into his hairline, his slate eyes wide, before he horrified me by neutralizing his expression again before I could read him properly–he gave me a small smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Oh,” he said hoarsely. “That’s chill. You could’ve just told me that.”

I smiled gratefully back at him, reaching out to rest my hand on his knee. “You’re sure?” I asked softly, tracing a pattern out on the grey cotton knee of the sweatpants. He swatted my hand away, and I felt a sudden dip in my stomach. He was upset.

“Yes, geez,” he grumbled. “I am perfectly capable to spend a day without you, you know. I probably need to check in with my folks, anyway.”

“You’re sure?” I asked again, leaning back, a bit more skeptical. Connor saying he wanted to check in with his parents was the boldest lie I’d heard in a long time.

“Yes, Christ, shut it,” he hissed, flopping onto his back, the crop top riding comically up on his stomach, and, without thinking, I leaned forward quickly to press a wet kiss to the cluster of freckles on his ribcage, earning a loud swear from Connor, followed by a slew of giggles, his thin hands pushing at my hair to pull me away from his ticklish sides.

“Stop it! Stop! Christ–st–” he sat up abruptly and tangled his hands into my hair, yanking me down against him, his bare chest trapped between us, soft against my palms.

What had started as a gentle joke, just a silly peck, escalated as it tended to. It was slow–Connor’s laughter dying quickly in his chest, his breath hitching in the back of his throat instead. I opened my eyes to glance down at him, his eyes closed, his eyelashes flickering against his cheeks. I pulled back, just for a moment, amazed to find his lips parted, head tilted back, obvious that he expected me to move my lips to neck. I just chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the cleft of his chin.

“Not this morning, Con,” I whispered, kissing behind his ear.

“Just kissing,” he whispered, letting out a shuddering breath into my hair. Eyes still closed, his hands tightened in my shirt in an attempt to keep me against him.

“You know it won’t stop there,” I laughed. He pouted beneath me.

“But–I’m not wearing a bra. I’m all ready to fool around!” Connor snorted, hands digging harshly into my sides as he laughed.

I smothered my laugh against his jugular, fighting to control my breathing, before pushing myself up against Connor’s chest.

“Not now,” I sighed sadly, giving him a closed mouth kiss against his lips, watching his eyes fade as he chased me for another kiss.

“Okay,” he sighed. “Sorry, my fault.” Throwing a hand over his eyes, he groaned, tangling his fingers in his pretty, pulled back hair.

“Don’t be sorry,” I mumbled.

“Later,” he smiled against his fist, slate eyes staring up at the ceiling with amusement. “Later. Christ, no one told me my libido would get a second wind after fourteen.”

“You’ve always got your hand,” I reminded with a chuckle, rising from the bed to stretch. Distance, I needed distance to think. He wrinkled his nose in disdain.

“Yeah, no thanks, not the same.”

There was a beat of silence, where I caught Connor watching me from the bed, before turning away with a pinched expression. It triggered an oddly sick feeling in my stomach–I shouldn’t feel guilty. I shouldn’t. This was just fun, Connor was just my friend, nothing more.

“So, uh,” he coughed. “What was your plan for tonight?”

I stiffened, turning around to sit on the edge of the bed with my back to him, beginning to braid my hair. The bed dipped suddenly, and Connor’s leg was flush with mine, the other folded behind my back, and Connor’s fingers wove into my wet hair, beginning to plait it silently.

“I have a date.”

His hands stilled, just briefly, and I felt myself relax when his fingers began again. He hadn’t taken a single breath.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Who with?” Cold. Uninterested. I growled low in my throat.

“Not sure. Some guy my mom set me up with–they’re pissed I don’t have a boyfriend, you know,” I reminded, and Connor just grunted in affirmation.

“You have no idea who he is?” Connor groaned in disgust. 

I shrugged. “He goes to school here–I think his name is Jared? He’s a business major. My mom is very impressed.”

Now, Connor really paused, his fingers abandoning the braid to snap his hands down into his lap.

“You know him?” I asked.

“Jared Kleinman?” Connor hissed, not looking at me.

“I think?” I said skeptically, unsure what about this kid had Connor in such a state.

“He’s an ass,” Connor growled. “An absolute asshole, bully, short-stack, scum bag, and you can’t go out with him. You can’t go out with that jerk off, trust me, okay? As your friend, I forbid you.”

I’d been taking everything Connor said seriously up to that point–it took a lot to make Connor that verbose, let alone that enraged–he’d been working on getting better, he really had–but his final statement made my eyes snap open, throwing my body off the bed.

“You forbid me?” I hissed, spinning with a wicked laugh. “I’m not your girlfriend, Connor. You can’t stop me from doing shit, okay?”

His eyes widened–in shock or shame, I wasn’t sure–sliding back up onto the bed. “I didn’t mean, fuck, I’m just trying to look out for you, okay? He’s bad news. He was–fuck, he was such an ass in highschool, okay?”

“And people can’t change, right?” I laughed crudely, watching the muscle twitch in his jaw. I’d pressed a button. Good. His eyebrows furrowed down over his glare, and I saw his hands clench and unclench in his lap. He’d caught my eyes flickering to them, and immediately looked helpless, wiping them on his jeans.

“I’m not having a fit,” he promised. “I’m not gonna hit you, I fucking swear to–”

“I know,” I lied, softening my posture and  looking away from him. “I know, Con. You’re not gonna hurt me again.”

Truth be told, he might. Relapse was easy–I knew, I’d seen it in teaspoon sized doses, whether be him throwing me against the door with too much force or be it a fist coming to connect on the wall behind my head after I gave a particular nasty comment. Connor had never hit me, not hard, but he almost had, and he’d said a few nasty things, broken some things of mine.

We were friends because I trusted him, because I didn’t want to leave him just because this felt hard. But I wouldn’t let Connor talk to me like that again, I’d promised myself. It meant a time out–no sex, no talking, not until he could calmly apologize and talk through what he was feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, scrubbing his hands over his eyes–he’d forgotten to paint his nails this week, I noticed, but his wrist had flowering patches of indigo and lavender peppered along his arm like blooming bruises–they were just left over from his last art class Friday. He really needed a shower, I realized.

“Don’t be sorry,” I said again, leaning against the bathroom’s doorjamb in lieu of joining him on the bed. If I sat on the bed, I’d want to touch him, and as much as he deserved reassurance, he didn’t need the positive reinforcement. He had to learn I was a finite fixture. “That Jared kid–he said something to you, right? In school. You didn’t like each other.”

Connor laughed mirthlessly, filling my stomach with lead. “Yeah, you could say that. He’s one of those weasely kids, ya know? With just shitty underhanded comments they get out of Mad magazine. Gets under your skin.”

It was too easy to picture, embarrassingly so, I thought, watching Connor now with his eyes downcast and his mouth pursed, I could still see him, just a year ago, and some punk kid whose comment landed on its mark. He probably sent Connor into fits.

I tried too hard not to picture Connor those nights, crying disgustingly in the shower, banging his head too hard against the tile, replaying over and over in his head what that little shit had said to him.

I didn’t want to go out with him. I hadn’t wanted to to begin with. But, I had to. I’d promised.

“I’m really sorry, Con,” I sighed softly, thunking my head against the doorjamb in punishment. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Don’t be,” he laughed bitterly again. “’S over now.” He held his arms open, silently asking me to come back down to him, just to make up. “Just because you’re sucking his cock now–”

He froze, eyes bugging out of his head, staring at something on the ceiling I couldn’t make out from here. My stomach churned uneasily, and the tips of my ears got uncomfortably warm. Connor sat up slowly, bracing himself on his arms, staring at the wall with a horrified expression. He was vaguely green around the collar of my shirt.

“You wanna stop. That’s why you told me. You wanna stop.”

I swallowed thickly. “Con–”

“Christ, kid! What happened to relationships and sex and school are too much? We said–”

“It’s out of my hands!” I gasped, Connor’s glare finally snapping to mine, melting me into the floor. “I don’t want to go out with him–you know my mom expects me to–”

“Fuck, I know, you’re parents want you to be a fucking baby factory with a rich husband, I know, okay?” He groaned, shoving his hands into his hair and dislodging the ponytail holder, his dark hair cascading around his shoulders, his whole expression pinched.

I flinched, shutting my eyes, wishing desperately to be somewhere else. He didn’t mean it, he was angry–it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“It’s just to appease my mom,” I sighed quietly, disgusted to realize how wet and broken my voice sounded. “Just to say I have a boyfriend, to keep her out of my hair. Otherwise she’d be down here every week, and I’d never be able to see you–”

“What if I pretended to be your boyfriend?” He said suddenly, making my gaze snap to his, despite my discomfort. He was staring seriously at me, and I felt sick to realize he was sincere.

“Trust me, Con, you don’t wanna do that.”

To subject him to that kind of scrutiny would be unfair. Connor was my favorite person in the world right now, and, despite coming from a good family, my mother would be less than thrilled to hear I was involved with an art major with a juvenile record.

He snorted. “I know I’m no Jared–”

“Don’t,” I glared. “Don’t. I’m sorry, but yeah, we can’t have sex for awhile, okay?”

“Fuck,” he hissed.

I felt sick–like crying. “I’m sorry if that ruins our friendship for you. I thought you might be able to tolerate spending time with me when I’m not getting you off.”

Connor’s horrified expression let me know he hadn’t actually thought of that, but it didn’t mean he hadn’t known.

“Hey,” he said softly, rolling off the bed to stand, his hands out stretched as if he was scared to spook me. “Hey, that’s not–hey, don’t cry.”

“Fuck off.”

“No,” he growled, coming forward to wrap his arms around me, still wearing that stupid crop top, pressing his face into my neck. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he murmured, his lips brushing my jaw. “You come first, you always come first. I’d rather have you than sex, you know that, right?”

His fingers scraped under my shirt to press against my skin, pulling me tighter to him, his fingertips tripping with friction.

“I know,” I sighed, going limp against him and wrapping my arms around his neck–it felt nice just to be close. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Fair enough.”

He pulled back, reaching up to cup my face, his fingertips burning where they thumbed my cheeks, wiping away the stray tears. He stared down at me so intently, and I realized he was still scared.

“Before your lame ass date, you wanna get some take out?” He asked with a crooked grin, leaning in to kiss my forehead quickly.

“Fine, but you have to change,” I giggled, pulling away despite his protests to grab my purse from his desk.

“I refuse to change–this color looks too good on me.”

——

“I can’t believe you’re gonna wear one of my shirts on your date with that wank,” Connor groaned, watching me button up one of his shirts over my chest, shaking his head. “He’s gonna try to cop a feel–it’s like he’s grabbing my boob, kid. That’s the worst violation of all.”

I rolled my eyes, brushing my hair back from my forehead. “First off, they’re still my boobs, but I promise I’ll bring the shirt back in mint condition. I doubt I’ll be kissing him tonight.”

Connor grinned around a mouthful of rice–he was cute like that, I realized, cheeks full and eyes crinkled with a smile. His mood had flipped swiftly, thank goodness, despite the fact it had started to pour outside, the sky pitch black despite the fact it was still early in the afternoon.

“Maybe he’ll buy you something nice,” Connor grinned. “I’m sure he’s loaded. If he brings a friend, make sure you hit on him.”

I snorted, but pulled on my slightly dirty skinny jeans anyway. “If he brings his friend on a date, I’m walking out and taking you home for thanksgiving.”

Connor grinned again. “God, that’d be rich.”

Thunder pounded through the room, making Connor’s hair products shake on his desk, causing me to jump back onto the bed to be near Connor.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” he teased softly, glancing out the window to see the downpour. “Christ, maybe you should stay in tonight. Last thing you need is to be trapped in some shitty French restaurant with mademoiselle rat face.”

“You’re hilarious,” I said bitterly, watching the leaves paste themselves to the window pane. “But, maybe I should reschedule. That’s not a shitty thing to do, right? It looks awful out there.”

“Nah,” Connor said around another mouthful. “Plus, if you do, we can have one last hoorah–okay, you’re right, sorry.”

I just grinned, hitting him lightly upside the head. “You can finish up in the shower, pretty boy.”

He frowned. “Fine.”

I pursed my lips, glaring out into the storm again. “I should call Jared ask him to reschedule,” I sighed again, feeling only vaguely guilty. I mean, what were the odds Jared even wanted to go on this date? Our parents set us up, for goodness’ sake.

I wondered briefly if Connor had worn this shirt in highschool, if Jared would recognize it.

“I highly recommend standing him up,” Connor said chipperly. “Allow me to hand you your phone–”

Connor froze, still half stretched across the bed, staring at my phone on the nightstand.

“Oh my God.”

“What?” I asked, concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh my God,” Connor said again, this time dissolving into a fit of giggles, yanking my phone off the charger and throwing it on the bed. “I can’t believe this!”

“Connor, if you don’t tell me–”

“He stood you up!”

“What?” I screeched, fumbling for my phone, surprised to see a few missed texts on my home screen.

From: Jared
To: Me

Srry 4 the short notice, do you think we coukd meet some other time? Don’t wanna get caught in the strom

“He can’t even spell,” I muttered in disgust, throwing my phone onto Connor’s bare stomach that shook with laughter.

“This is hilarious, oh my God. It’s so sad, you look so cute and everything! You were gonna put on mascara for that asshole!”

“I’m gonna dump this soy sauce on your shirt, Murphy.”

“Sorry, sorry, geez!”

He put down his plastic fork, reaching across the mattress to stroke his hand across my bare arm. For a minute, I thought he might ask me how I felt, but instead just asked, “Are you up for a round of Battlefront?”

I grinned, beginning to undo pearline buttons of Connor’s nice navy shirt. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

He grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners and his lips cracking with the force of his smile. “I look forward to it.”

hi i need to talk to you real quick about viktor nikiforov’s hair:

  • when it’s long and he has to throw it in a messy ponytail or bun because he’s got to get to practice and it’s no use doing a fancy updo because he’s going to knock it out with his jumps anyway
  • the rare days he doesn’t have to rush in mornings and he looks up complicated updo instructions and walks around with his gorgeous hair done in all sorts of intricate styles
  • how easy it would be to dye, and how gorgeous it would look. no bleach necessary, it’s already so light. just get in there with some blue, or maybe purple, or both, and bam. try to tell me that he wouldn’t at least think about it. try.
  • the way that high ponytails bounce when you walk.
  • running his fingers through the length and admiring how soft it is, and then making everyone in proximity of him stroke his hair because it’s so soft
  • (because you know damn well that he takes amazing care of his hair)
  • right after he cuts it and he’s really confused when he runs a hand through the back of his hair and it’s short and he has that momentary panic of ??? where is my hair
  • pulling his bangs down toward his chin to see how long they are
  • cute barrettes and hair bands to hold his bangs out of his eyes when he’s skating or practicing something that he shouldn’t have his hair in his face for
  • the way yuuri pulls it out of his eyes when he leans their foreheads together or kisses his forehead
  • the way that yuuri tugs it out of his face when they kiss, and the way that yuuri’s hands always somehow end up in it while they’re kissing
RFA + V & Saeran - Soulmate AU

This is kinda random, but I thought why not. 

P.s No one asked for this Lololol 

 So basically, AU stands for ‘Alternate Universe’, and for this each character gets a different soulmate au. Aka how they meet their soulmate or how they would find them. 


 707/Luciel/Saeyoung Choi 

Soulmate AU: world becomes brighter when meeting soulmate. 

  •  Everything was always dull to this hacker(same everyone in the RFA)
  • his mother never found her soulmate, so why would he find his??
  • Never thought he’d find his soulmate because of his job 
  • not even Vanderwood had one 
  • Seven craved for someone to literally light up his world 
  • it wasn’t that dark, but then again, that’s all he knew 
  • Maybe it was a family curse (Seven ur like the second youngest in the group shush) 
  • Decided to go stock up on some PhD Pepper one Midnight so he could finish his assignment 
  • Was walking out of store with like two cases of PhD pepper in his hands when someone crashed into him
  •  I mean literally crashed
  •  this person was running at full speed towards the entrance and crashed into this tomato boy 
  • “Oh my gosh I’m so sorr-”
  •  They didn’t even get to finish their sentence before a flash of light encased both of their visions 
  • When they could see again, they were both shocked
  • Seven marvels at how light the world suddenly became
  •  Then it dawns on him, 
  • “Oh my god!”
  •  He completely forgets about his precious soda and hugs the person tightly
  • “My soulmate!”
  • was the happiest boyo in the world at the moment 
  • workers overhearing this and clapped
  •  They exchanged numbers and Seven did a full search on the poor person once he got home
  •  was already and love
  •  spammed the chatroom with heart emojis lmao

 (The rest of the RFA is below)

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Secrets

Originally posted by kths

“We weren’t meant to be. We should have never kissed. I should not have become that weak soul which needs you. We shouldn’t have met, but we did.”

Summary: I call him devil because he makes me want to sin. And every time he knocks… I can’t help but to let him in…

Hoseok was my brother’s best friend. He was nothing but bad news, but the more I spent time around him… the more I couldn’t help but to fall for him…

Temptation is a dangerous thing… especially with a guy like him…

Previous Parts:

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 //

Part 6 is here~

More Parts: 

Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 //

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spring day

◦ pairing: reader x hoseok

◦ rating: m [angst]

◦ word count: 1.3k

mood music: spring day // bts

a/n: Y’all I don’t even know what this is or where it came from, but my mind just went crazy with inspiration from Spring Day, Blood Sweat & Tears, and Boy Meets Evil, and this happened. It’s one of my more experimental, creative things. Lmk if you like these!

m a s t e r l i s t


summer.

It was nearly eighty degrees when your hand wandered up my thigh, catching all the words in my throat. God knows what useless thing I had been rambling on about, but my mind had gone blank and you just chuckled. Your eyes were still fixed on the road as you dared to reach under the cotton of my thin sundress. I gasped when your fingers brushed up my folds ever so slowly.

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Jealousy and Matchmaking

Originally posted by niaxxii

Request: anon asked “Robb Stark x Targaryen!reader Where the reader grew up in winterfell with the Starks because Ned saved her from king’s landing when she was a baby and brought her home when he brought Jon to winterfell. The rest is up to you :)”

and another anon asked “Can we get some jealous and possessive Robb in one of the requests???”

Warnings: some random dude flirting and being kinda a creepo

Word Count: 1131

Notes: i used a name generator to come up with that guys name, he’s no one from the series.  also i don’t want to spoil what happens but i did change some things from the show. enjoy!

Your name: submit What is this?

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flower writing prompt 1:

PROMPT: Your Sole x R.J MacCready - Ulmus flower👍
ULMUS: royalty, strength, age

NOTE: I know I took my sweet time with this, but it became SO much more than I originally expected to write. thank you anon for the prompt!! I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST WROTE MY FIRST EVER FINISHED FIC FOR FLO AND MAC??? SKJKJlkjdsf;lsdk I hope you enjoy this self-indulgent little piece of writing I whipped up in like two hours (get ready for some mac domesticity), and if you reblog that ask meme I’ll make sure to invade ur inbox with flowers because these are ridiculously fun <3 


The one strand of white had hidden itself well among the locks of hair above his forehead. MacCready almost didn’t notice it at first. It was when he got closer to the mirror to inspect his teeth that it casually fell in front of his eyebrow, like a crack in the glass, almost proudly presenting itself to him. 

No way. Squinting, he isolated it with his fingers. The tip of it was golden brown, like it was supposed to be, but sure enough, the lower half of was a breathtakingly glossy - almost polished - silver. His eyes widened. There had been many false alarms in the past couple of years, but this time he was certain.

It was a real, genuine, gray hair.

“Holy shit!” He went racing down the hallway in his boxers, face still dripping-wet. “Flo! Holy shit!”

“Mac, honey, the kids can hear you from outside!” He nearly skidded past the kitchen door in his excitement, before getting right up to her face and pointing proudly to the drooping strand of hair.

“Look.”

She put a hand over her mouth, but he could just see her smile. “Is that..?”


When she found her first gray hair, they had only just gotten married, and Duncan was only five. Between the kids, the raiders, and the settlements, Florence hadn’t had time to think of aging ever since waking up in Vault 101. “You’re gonna have to point them out to me from now on. Before long my entire head will go too, you know,” she said to him after plucking it out, half as a joke and half as a precaution. Truth be told, MacCready couldn’t recall more than three people in his entire life who had lived long enough to have an entire head of gray hair, and it was unexpectedly difficult for him to imagine Flo becoming one of them. He could tell she hated it.

After dinner that day she sat herself down at the old, slightly banged-up vanity in their bedroom, silently combing her hair and parting it this way and that, experimenting with ways to hide the coming change. It was killing him that he wasn’t able to help with how upset she was.

“Tell you what,” he said. “Let’s do this thing right.”

She turned to him, looking amused. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re all about fairness and equality in the Wasteland - you tell me if it’s fair that you’re on your way to having a head full of gray hair, and I don’t even have a single one yet.” She started to laugh, but he stopped her, taking her hand in his with a small, sly smile. “Oh, I’m dead serious, sweetheart. You have nearly a hundred years’ head start on this age thing. No way am I gonna let you get old without me.”

“So you’re gonna - what - lawyer my hair out of changing color? You’re sweet, Mac, but it’s not..” Florence trailed off, then said, “It’s not so much having a head full of gray hair. It’s not knowing if I’ll be with you, Shaun, and Duncan long enough for that to happen that’s scaring the hell out of me. I mean - who knows if that’s even possible for us, living the way we do?”

“Well, I…” He knew telling her not to worry with him around was irresponsible - he had made that promise too many times for it to matter anymore. “You know I’m never gonna leave you if I have any say in it.”

"I know you won’t,” she gave him a sad, brittle smile. “But sometimes neither of us get a say in it, and I just can’t help worrying…" 

“Then wait for me to catch up so you don’t have to worry alone. Whatever you want to do with those gray hairs - getting rid of ‘em, or hiding, or dyeing ‘em - just say the word and I’ll help you do it. I’ll get you whatever you need. Just don’t leave the starting line without me. Let me worry about that with you.


"It’s gray! You’re old!” She yells between giggles.

“I know! I know!” he laughs. “I know, I know, I know!”

They stay like that for a while, but soon quiet down, transitioning from laughter to a more tearful kind of joy. 

She finally pulls back from the embrace to take a good, long look at him, still sniffling. “Hey, you,” she says, in a way that always makes him melt, and frowns.

“What is it?”

“Oh, nothing. I was going to say something witty about how you finally caught up, but it looks like I’m gonna have to step up my game. You’re one ahead of me now.” She’s smirking now, and softly thumbs a small thread of silver on his chin. “Really should’ve thought twice before messing with the best.”

He grins, leaning in for a kiss. They hear the sounds of Shaun and Duncan imitating laser pistols somewhere out in the fields.

“Man,” Mac says as he breaks away, gazing at Florence and quietly thanking all the choices he had made prior to that moment that led him to her. “Who knew growing old together was so much fun?”

“I Can’t Believe You Wrote That” (Harry Styles Smut)

Summary: Harry eats Y/N out for a long time, she bakes him a cake saying “thank you”.

Requested: yes

Warnings: eating out, overstimulation (just a mention of it)

A/N: This is super short! I’m sorry loves.  Thank you for the over 1,000 followers!! You are all amazing and I appreciate every single one of you! Also thank you to whoever requested this!

Masterlist

Originally posted by stylesinthewild

“Thank You” (Harry Styles Smut)

You don’t know what time it is, but you know lots of time has passed. It was just one of those nights where Harry needed you, all of you. You weren’t complaining, you liked when Harry took control, you found it incredibly sexy.

You were laying back, with your legs open, with Harry’s hands on your hips, and his head between your thighs. Your head was falling back, mouth open moaning out. Your legs close at time due to the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you.

“Harry” You moan out closing your legs, due to the overstimulation.

Harry moves his hands to your back of your thighs and hold your thighs from closing in.

“Just hold out for me baby, just one more.” Harry says looking up at you. “Can you go for one more for me?”

When you nod your head, Harry then puts his head back down, and his mouth down to your core. He licks your whole core once, but then just focuses on your clit. He takes his thumb and puts fast circles, and then pushes his two other fingers into your core.

“Oh Harry.” You moan out feeling yourself already coming close.

“Cum for me baby.” Harry encourages you, pumping his fingers in you faster, and rubbing circles on your clit fast.

For the, you don’t even know time, your toes curl, your back arches up, and your hands find Harry’s hair.

“There you go baby, you look so beautiful.” Harry says, pumping his fingers through your orgasm.

Due to the overstimulation, after you finish, you lay down, and feel absolutely exhausted. Harry moves up on the bed to where you are, and pulls you onto him that you are resting on his chest.

“You did good baby girl. You feel good?” Harry whispers into your hair.

“Mmm” You moan out, cuddling into him, feeling yourself falling asleep.

You don’t remember Harry leaving that next morning due to how exhausted you are. You didn’t know Harry went off to the studio, until you saw that Harry left a note for you that read,

“I hope you are feeling good, love. You deserved that good rest, you did so good last night. I’m heading off to the studio, I will be back around 3. See you soon. Love, H.”

You smile at his sweet, and cheeky note, hearing your head how he would sound if he said that. Being a dessert person, and the fact you woke up around 12, you weren’t in the mood for breakfast, you were in the mood for cake. It’s just one of those mornings.

You grabbed a boxed cake, the ingredients that it listed, and began to make the cake. You were making red velvet cake, Harry’s favorite. You wanted to make it to him, especially after last night, because he really did all of the work.

After you put the cake in the oven, you grab some cereal, because you feel that you should eat some real food before you eat the cake. You sit down in front of the TV and eat your cereal as you wait for the cake to bake. After finishing a few reruns episodes of Cheers, you get up to make the frosting for the cake.

You grab some cream cheese, because you can’t have red velvet without cream cheese frosting, and the other ingredients needed. After you finish the frosting, it was time to take the cake out of the oven. Waiting for the cake and frosting to chill, you watch a few more episodes of Cheers, and seeing that Harry was coming home soon, you needed to finish the cake.

You grab the frosting, and frost the entire cake, but then start laughing thinking about something funny to put on the cake. You look in the cupboards for food dye, and find the only color you have, red.

You are giggling to yourself as you pipe on your little message. When you finished, it was perfect timing because Harry was coming through the door.

“Hello, love. Watcha making?” He walks over, wrapping his arms around your wait from behind you, kissing your cheek.

“I made you your favorite, red velvet cake.” Turning the cake, so he could read the message.

Harry smiles, and laughs at the message you wrote. “Oh you’re welcome, love. Anytime.”

Harry pulls out his phone, and takes a picture of the cake that has the message written on top, “Thanks for eating me out for 3 ½ , it was nice.”

“I can’t believe you wrote that.” Harry laughs.

“But, like I said, anytime. I will do it anytime.” He says, turning you around so that you are facing him, pulling you close to him, and giving you a sweet kiss.


A/N: This is short, and I’m sorry if it is too short! Thank you to whoever requested this! Over the next few days I will be updating “The Roommate” and “Professor Styles”. Thank you for all the support!

anonymous asked:

Hey boss, ye cat, you need to give me some Ryou because I love him and it'll make me feel better~

Who could this very mysterious ask be from?  Gosh, @niffty24​, I’m stumped, who do you think this is from??

But okay, yeah, sure.


“It’s getting long, huh?”

Ryou looked up from the couch to see Lance in the doorway, grinning at him.  He stepped into the rec room, a floating tray bobbing behind him with popcorn and drinks.

“Huh?”  Ryou started to tilt his head, then winced.  A strand of hair was twisted around one finger, and it had pulled instead of coming loose.  Huh.  He hadn’t even realized he was playing with it.  “Oh, the hair?  Yeah.  It’s better now that I can put it up.”

Snorting, Lance sat down next to him, hard enough to make Ryou jolt.  “I admit, I like it better now too.  The mullet phase was a little too much.”

Ryou rolled his eyes.  “Enough with your mullet grudge.  Keith’s hair isn’t that bad.”  When Lance only hummed in disagreement, Ryou huffed back.  “At least it’s not in my face anymore.  That was a pain.”

“You could have used barrettes,” Lance pointed out, smile growing.  The tray settled between them as he rested his shoes on the coffee table.  It was with the full knowledge that Coran would see the scuffs later and make him clean it.  “Could have done them in all different colors for Voltron.”

“Yeah, I could also not do that.  Barrettes in a helmet sounds uncomfortable.”  Ryou held up the pad so Lance could see the program for the TV. “Pidge has Who Framed Rodger Rabbit on here.  That good for you?”

Lance shrugged.  “Haven’t seen it.”

Grinning, Ryou tilted his head.  “I haven’t either.  Sounds like fun, then.”  He tapped on the screen to start the movie.

Lance took a handful of popcorn, then picked one piece out of his hand and tossed it up.  He caught it in his mouth with a grin.  “I do like it down.  When you have it up in the bun, it kind of looks like Allura, with all the white hair.”

“I do not look like Allura,” Ryou replied, not even looking over.  “That’s a really difficult silhouette for me to pull off.”

Snickering, Lance nodded, conceding the point.  “Alright, but still.”

Finally, Ryou looked over, eyebrow arched.  “Just say what you’re getting at.”

Lance’s bottom lip jutted out.  “Aww.  That ruins the fun.”  But under Ryou’s continued stare, he sighed.  “I could put it up for you.  The ponytail is fine, and I actually like the bun.  It’s appropriately hipster of you.  But you should have some options.  I can do some cool braiding, if you’re interested.”

Oh.

Huh.

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