is he wearing the same thing in all of them

I think about how Zevran automatically puts on the Dalish Gloves and Antivan Boots no matter what other equipment he has on a lot…it fucks me up man.

Like, lets say that instead of the Warden buying his armor, he spends some of his own gold on a nice pair of leather gloves. They aren’t Antivan, but they’re of fine make, and the best he’s going to get in awhile.

But then the Warden hands him these random, beat up Dalish gloves because they remembered him talking about his mother.

They remembered this one conversation enough to keep these ratty things and hand them to him, because they cared enough about him to remember.

He’s never torn anything off his body so quickly as he did those nice, expensive gloves he bought, and never thinks about wearing them again.

Every year the Russian Team does a bar crawl. It’s a tradition now. They all have T-shirts that have Yakov’s face on the front (Above the word Фелстман bolded and underlined) and, on the back, a skater’s name in large bolded font below an alphabetized list of every skater Yakov’s ever had in much smaller text. They get new T-shirts every time someone new is added to the roster, so usually every year or two.

They change the T-shirts to include Yuuri, and also to change Viktor’s name to his married name. Yuuri has no idea that this is even a thing until he walks into the rink one morning to see Yuri skating around with a pile of bright purple T-shirts in his arms.

“Yo, Katsudon,” Yuri mutters when he gets to him, flipping through shirts distractedly. He’s almost a normal person this early in the morning, before the vitriol has settled into his bones for the day. “So your stupid husband didn’t tell us what size you are, but you wear his clothes all the time anyway and since you have the same last name it was just less complicated to order two of the same size. Here.” He drops them so quickly that Yuuri almost overbalances to catch them. He’s halfway across the rink by the time Yuuri straightens back up, making his way towards one of the Juniors who Yuuri thinks might be named Katya. 

“Ooh, the shirts came in,” Viktor says happily when he catches up. He takes one and holds it up to the light. The picture of Yakov on the front is…not exactly flattering. “Wow! They look even better than last year! Purple is a much better color than green.”

“What am I looking at?” Yuuri demands, staring dumbfounded at his own T-shirt.

“Yakov, of course,” Viktor says happily. He flips the shirt around. Yuuri startles at the giant, bold Кацуки-Никифоров on the back. Viktor scans the smaller text (Which is, weirdly enough, in the shape of a skating boot) and says, “Ah, here you are.” Yuuri leans over.

“Yeah, that’s…definitely my name,” Yuuri says, brows furrowing. Юрий Кацуки-Никифоров. It is, of course, right next to Виктор Кацуки-Никифоров. He’s familiar enough with the other skaters’ names to realize that the small text is Yakov’s roster. “Um, why though?” 

“I’m not sure!” Viktor says happily. “I came here after it started! I’ll go put these in our lockers. Start warming up please, Kitten!”

Viktor skates away. Yakov’s face seems to wink at him, over and over again, from where Viktor is clutching the shirts by his hip.

“After WHAT started?” Yuuri demands to the room at large. Nobody answers him.

Viktor eventually does explain what they are for, the afternoon before the bar crawl itself. He also shows Yuuri the dozen past bar crawl shirts he owns. The passage of time is indicated by the growing shirt sizes and Yakov’s hairline. Yakov had almost a full head of hair when Viktor first joined the roster.

“Does Yakov know about this?” Yuuri mutters, staring at the shirts in awe. 

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Viktor says. “Lilia makes the shirt orders for us. It’s the only reason she’s not on the shirt too, honestly.”

Every single day, Yuuri is more and more amazed that Yakov Feltsman has not taken to the Siberian wilderness to live in seclusion and blessed silence. 

incredibly specific things about Bakugou’s wardrobe that i have noticed:

  • he owns lots and lots of black/dark blue tank tops
  • loves wearing baggy pants and probably buys them all a size or two larger than necessary just so he can pull off his Look™
  • wears an incredibly bright orange belt to hold up his way too large pants so they don’t fall down around his ankles. however he still wears his pants way too low despite the belt. child is dedicated to his Look™
  • owns way too many skull/Punisher t-shirts. i’m 98% sure he still wears the same brand that he wore as a child. refuses to change looks. will buy any t-shirt as long as it’s black and has a skull on it 
  • only ever wears loafers. sometimes boots. but always loafers
  • never wears socks (b/c the only time he wore them he got kidnapped. both times.)

so im absolutely obsessed with @skyesentinels ‘s youtube au and i got an IdeaTM (pls read the voltron youtube au frfr it’s s o good)

-For april fools, Keith and Pidge make a new channel for ‘supernatural hunting and alien spotting’
     -The video they post is just them running around Keith’s apartment while lance chases them while wearing a bedsheet
          -there are many gifs of lance tripping and face planting because he can’t see
-they all think it’s just an one time thing they did for a funny april fools thing but no
     -the fans won’t allow it
-the channel somehow gets to 100,000 subscribers, and keith and pidge get sent an actual silver play button from youtube for a channel they made as a joke
      -then they realize that they can’t just let the channel die now
-So they continue making videos
-they start out mostly the same as the first video, just obviously fake ‘paranormal activity’ while someone chases them
     -there are also many gifs of shiro dragging keith away while being the ‘ghost’
     -also many, many audio clips of keith’s high pitched screaming as this is done
-Lance is a fan favorite in these videos because he always ends up screaming and falling into keith’s arms
     -the klance shippers l i v e for this channel
-shiro is the worst to have in these videos unless he’s the ghost
     -shiro: maybe the real ghost was the friends we made along the way
     -keith: sh u t up shiro this is s e r i o u s
     -”yea i’d punch a ghost. I’d fight every single ghost in the astral plane. im not scared”
-there’s a video of keith filming lance in the middle of his morning routine and yelling “look guys! It’s a ghost, and it’s hideous
     -the rest of the video is the camera shaking while keith runs for his life
-there are x-file memes everywhere
     -every single video there are new clips on tumblr with the x-files theme playing
-g h o s t  a d v e n t u r e  m e m e s
     -”My name is Keith Kogane. I’ve never believed in ghosts until I came face to face with one. So I set out on a quest to capture what I once saw onto video….With no big camera crews following us around, I am joined only by my fellow investigator Pidge Holt and our equipment tech Hunk Garrett. The three of us will travel to the some of most highly active paranormal locations, where we will spend an entire night, being locked down from dusk until dawn….Raw…Extreme…These are our Ghost Adventures.”
     -this leads the fandom to make memes about zak bagans being keith’s boyfriend
     -lance doesn’t realize that it’s all a meme and he’s??? So confused?? Like i thought keith and i bonded???? Who is zak and what does he have that i dont???????
      -”zak bagans is my boyfriend and i would die for him” -keith probably
      -keith does have a lowkey unironic crush on zak bagans and the only one that knows is shiro
-then they start making other videos of them doing things like looking for aliens/bigfoot/mothman ect
     -everyone likes these videos too because keith almost always starts ranting that mothman is r e a l.
     -pidge does the same but with nessie
-this leads to them making videos about conspiracy theories
     -these are basically just 30 minute long unedited videos of them screaming about cryptids
-they also start doing those cursed games like the bath game and midnight game
     -they get the whole gang together to play the midnight game but it’s basically just them sitting in a dark room with candles pretending to feel stuf
     -except lance who claims he’s actually feeling things, but in reality its just keith messing with him
-their videos sometimes end with the police showing up one way or another
      -once they had to pause making a video because keith screamed so loud that his neighbors thought he was dying so now there’s footage of keith awkwardly explaining to a police officer what they were doing
      -the fandom has started making bets to whether or not the police will show up in the next video or not
-theres a compilation of videos from pidge’s snapchat that are just a slow zoom of keith’s face as he does something with the caption ‘caught a cryptid on video!!!!!!!!’
     -keith tried to get her back but he’s much less sneaky about it so most of keith’s video’s usually end with pidge tackling him
-the fans get ‘#cryptidkeith’ treading on twitter and keith wants to die
     -most of it is edits of keith’s face of bigfoot or screenshots of keith in the background of a shot with that red circle and zoom in of him (see: @keithsightings)
     -theres also a lot of keith x mothman
     -keith has never been more impressed and also disgusted by his fandom

Michael Mell is on the spectrum

In BMC- the clips we’ve seen of the show- in all the scenes where Michael is wearing his hoodie, if he is stressed, or has something to lose (when Jeremy is receiving the squip and Michael is apprehensive, when Jeremy goes to get the girl, when Jeremy stomps off after saying he hates the school, when Jeremy hasn’t acknowledged him all day because of optic nerve blocking, when Jeremy chooses to side with the squip and the upgrade instead of following Michael, etc) whenever something stressful, unnerving, or hurtful happens- MICHAEL WEARS THE HOOD UP TO COVER HIS HEAD-
This may not seem like a big deal to some people but as someone on the autism spectrum- this is a clear coping mechanism that a lot of people on the spectrum use-
It helps to kind of hide you a bit and give you some kind of little relief and sanctuary- the same thing with headphones- wearing headphones can help block out unwanted noise that you are overly sensitive to and drown it out with noise that brings you comfort (in michael’s case- sometimes Bob Marley)
Another common trait in people on the spectrum, is anxiety over change. People on the spectrum typically grow attached and accustomed to their routines and get startled and disoriented by change. This is another trait that can be seen in michael- in the opening number- he is introduced for the very first time singing:
“Jeremy, my buddy, how’s it hanging? Lunch is banging. Got my sushi, got my slushy and more!”
First of all, it is arguable that when Michael says “Got my sushi, got my slushy, and more” it is a glimpse of these said patterns that tend to fall into place and make people on the spectrum more at ease. Notice how he doesn’t say “I got sushi and a slushy” he says “got my sushi, got my slushy”- he states it simply like this because Jeremy is his best friend and knows his patterns and habits- which is why he so plainly states it like everybody knows about them. I think this is an example of Michael’s system- he gets his sushi, he gets his slushy, he listens to his music, he wears his same hoodie, and he goes to school.
Second of all (and this is more debatable than the rest) before Michael goes on to share his routinely patterns, something that stuck out to me was that Michael wasn’t as socially adept as other characters- he addresses his friend and does the socially acceptable thing by asking how he is doing, but then immediately moves on without receiving an answer. This isn’t because he is selfish or a dick- in my mind it’s another trait of people on the spectrum. For people with high functioning autism, social interactions can be extremely difficult because it is hard to comprehend what is socially acceptable and what isn’t. This can make some relationships hard because they may come off as rude or uncaring when in reality they just aren’t able to easily slide into conversation and act completely normally.
Third of all, when he says “and more” I thought it was cute because it showed his excitement for having accomplished something. For people off of the spectrum, little things like accepting a little change isn’t anything out of the norm because life is unpredictable and things change all the time. But for people on the spectrum, even little things like being able to roll with one simple change can be a huge victory. Change is a lot harder for us so being able to deal with slight change is a big deal. After this line- Michael says “the roll was Mekhi maki and I’m feeling kind of cocky, cause the girl at sev-elev gave me a generous pour”. Just the little change of the extra pour, extra slushy, Michael was able to accept and that was a win for him, enough to make him feel confident and cocky.

Throughout the musical and album there is more evidence of this but I think that it is at least debatable that Michael may be on the spectrum. Honestly it wouldn’t surprise me for George Salazar to portray a character like that as he has been good with mental health representation in the past. I honestly love the idea of an autistic character in a musical because there isn’t a whole lot of positive representation elsewhere. You don’t have to agree but I’m probably going to always see Michael now as a representation for me

Domestic Victuuri Headcanons
  • Victor is typically awake first, so he got into the habit of making coffee for the two of them in the morning. 
  • Yuuri always makes two cups of herbal tea for the two of them to drink before bed. 
  • Saturday evening is date night where they go out and try something new. 
  • They invite Yurio over for game night on Fridays. Sometimes he brings Mila. All of them have tons of fun. 
  • Victor likes to braid Yuuri’s hair as it gets longer. 
  • They both have Spotify playlists made for each other that they listen to exclusively. 
  • Yuuri teaches Victor about weird American pop culture when they visit his alma mater in the summer. 
  • They take cooking lessons together. 
  • All of their routines are co-choreographed. 
  • Every time Victor finishes practicing a routine, Yuuri runs out and tackles him with kisses. 
  • Victor does the same thing.
  • Yuuri loves giving Victor little gifts; little things that made Yuuri think of him throughout the day. 
  • Victor is all about compliments; he is literally Amazed™ at everything Yuuri does. 
  • Will never stop holding hands.
  • They have a prank war and involve everyone at the rink, much to Yakov’s dismay.
  • They decide to get matching custom hoodies and they always wear them to practice.
  • They love each other forever.
Boyfriend Series; Junhui

- prepare yourself for the GREASE
- for your first date, junhui takes you to the beach and you’re both just walking along the shore, talking about anything that comes to mind
- halfway through the date, you playfully push junhui into the water and he retaliates by pulling you in
- you both chase each other around while splashing water everywhere, laughing and having fun together
- at some point, he takes off his shirt and you’re like OMFG JUN PUT YOUR SHIRT BACK ON and you cover your red face with your hands
- while your face is still buried in your hands, he grabs your waist and makes you both fall into the water and when you resurface, the two of you are laughing your heads off
- you and junhui walk back to shore when you get tired, and the rest of the day is spent sitting on the sand talking while waiting to get dry
- when sunset comes and you suggest it’s time to leave, junhui says “wait” and proceeds to write something on the sand with his finger
- when he finishes, you look down to see that they’re chinese characters and when you ask him what they mean, he says “i love you”
- and right after he says that, you both share your first kiss
- let the grease begin
- when you’re yelling at him, he brings his hand up to your face and squishes your cheeks together so that you make a fishy face anD THEN HE KISSES YOU AND YOU’RE LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING ME
- but it works and you’re not mad at him anymore and you hate yourself for it
- he says cheesy pick-up lines out loud in public just to embarrass you
- “jun i’m already yours THERE’S NO NEED FOR THOSE PLEASE STOP”
- when you wear tight clothing, he looks you up and down and wiggles his eyebrows and you’re like just leave
- the type to blow kisses at you and frowns the rest of the day when you flick/dodge them
- ALWAYS tries to show off in front of you
- once effed up his shoulder dancing to mansae because he over-exaggerated his dancing during the chorus
- after that, the boys banned you from coming to their dance practices
- teaches you a bit of martial arts for your safety, but during training he pins you to the floor and kisses you
- when he’s sick, he makes it seem worse than it really is just so you’d take care of him
- asks for kisses all the time
- “jun get up we’re going to be late” “i’ll get up for a kiss ;)” “ok i’m going first then” “NO COME BACK”
- the type to purposely send you shirtless pictures of himself and then write something like “oops!! sorry that was an accident” right after
- he ALWAYS walks out of the shower with his hair soaking wet, and his towel wrapped around his waist and you’re like PUT!! SOME!! CLOTHES!! ON!!
- insists that you watch the movies and dramas he was in before he debuted
- he LOVES it when you wear his clothes, he’s always lending you his shirts, hoodies and varsities because he loves seeing you in them
- in fact, you guys have matching hoodies and he insists that you both wear them all the time
- steals your phone to take selfies so that your photo gallery is filled with pictures of him
- but you just can’t bring yourself to erase them because you love him so much even if the pictures take up so much space
- always tells minghao about you and when you go to the dorm, you and minghao just tell each other stories of all the stupid things junhui has done in the past week
- you once told minghao you loved his new hair color and guess what junhui dyed his hair the same color LOL
- “minghao you have to stop, (name) might fall for you and we might end up having to fight to the death” “because i dyed my hair????”
- always within a five-meter radius because he “gets lonely”
- he’s always making puns and then laughs really hard at them and you’re like jun WHY
- junhui’s so positive all the time and it’s honestly so refreshing
- always drinks from the same straw as you because he believes in indirect kisses lmao
- really long and slow kisses on the lips, probably pins you against walls too
- he always surprises you with kisses and sometimes you put a hand over your mouth to stop him from kissing you but nope that doesn’t stop him HE JUST KISSES THE HAND OVER YOUR LIPS ANYWAY
- when you say “i hate you” even as a joke he takes it pretty seriously and asks nonstop if you really do hate him and buys you flowers and says he loves you nonstop
- he loves cuddling while facing you because he loves looking into your eyes and memorizing each one of your features
- junhui always tries to play it off like he’s all right even when he isn’t because he wants you to think he’s really strong and he doesn’t want you to worry
- but you know when he’s sad and you never push him to say it, and eventually he starts opening up to you and just having someone he can rely on…… he loves the feeling
- he may be greasy and all, but he does know when to stop and be serious when you’re not in a good mood
- when you’re sad, he gives you kisses on the forehead and tells you that you’ll be all right
- he also takes you out for a shopping spree and treats you for food and just does everything he can to make you smile again because your happiness is the most important to him
- you may always make a comeback to his greasy lines, you may always dodge his hearts and kisses, and you may roll your eyes a lot when you’re around him
- but you really do love junhui
- “i love you i love you i love you”
- “junhui stop”
- “i love you i love you i love you—”
- to get him to stop, you surprise him with a kiss, but after pulling away…
- “wait i wasn’t ready, give me another one!!!”

     I get that Buster wearing an over-sized shirt is  “ cute “  but I’m a bit tired of people ignoring WHY he’s wearing such a shirt and saying how ‘funny’ or ‘cute’ this scene is because of it. The creators said Buster ‘dresses to impress’ and I believe this symbolizes a few things here.

     If you take a look at the room, you can see Moon probably was there for a bit. Eddie appeared to have bought them a pizza to eat, and even made a little bed for his friend. Sounds like a typical thing I do for my own friends! I’ll even spare them clothes to wear. But consider this:

                  MOON HAD NO HOME TO GO BACK TO.

     When the theater crumbled down, Buster lost all of his belongings … plus the only place he counted as his “house”, for he was sleeping in the drawer. Probably couldn’t afford his own place, AND the theater at the same time. All he got to take back with him was the clothes on his back, his father’s old car wash bucket, and the picture frame of when he first opened the theater.

     So, the shirt Eddie offered him to wear, deep down, is kind of … sad. Moon is probably washing the ONLY outfit he himself owns, but he probably doesn’t even care that much at that point. There is no reason to dress to impress anymore. Eddie is a good friend for letting him wear an old college shirt, even if its a bit big on Buster. 

     The whole scene when everyone comes to help Buster, and he tells them “NONE OF THIS IS OKAY” says a lot, really. He isn’t lying anymore. He isn’t going to pretend. From this moment, we can see the amazing character development the characters have went through so far —— and how despite Moon lying, and that there is no prize, and that there is no theater … everyone still comes around to SUPPORT Moon, and wishing to do the show. 

     He ignores any sort of help, for he is hopeless at this point. He doesn’t CARE how someone sees him at this point. This is so against his character beforehand, so we can tell how broken Buster is in this.

     Hell, even when he’s reading the newspaper, and what they said to him … do you know what he does? HE BOWS. As if he’s like  “this is me. this is all i am. this is what my life is.” and he does later say this! Admitting how AFRAID he is. Well —— wouldn’t you be in his situation? 

     So, I don’t find this scene cute at all. It’s really sad really.

Burnt Out // Sirius Black

A/N: another shitty old draft with a terrible ending that no one asked for and isn’t what i’m supposed to be writing :)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Originally posted by it-is-just-the-begining

In all your years at Hogwarts, one thing remained constant - Sirius Black always had a smile on his face, until now. You knew Sirius enough to know something was wrong. The whole school was buzzing with joy and excitement - the Christmas spirit. The annual Gryffindor Christmas Party was happily bustling along in the common room. Usually, Sirius was the life of the party. Dancing, telling jokes, keeping the alcohol stocked - it was his thing. 

But this year, he stood by the fireplace with a lifeless expression on his face. Kids were raising hell all around him, laughing and downing cup after cup of firewhisky. This year, James had enchanted them to automatically fill back up once empty, so you knew this blowout would ultimately end in buckets of vomit and the infirmary running to the brim with hungover, cranky Gryffindors in the morning. Marlene McKinnon cackled across the room. She clung to Sirius like her life depended on it, giggling and drunkenly flashing cleavage in his face. You smiled softly to yourself at Marlene’s behavior and when you looked up, Sirius was looking at you. 

Most people would say Sirius’ best feature was his hair, but you disagreed. His eyes stuck out to you. They were a light, misty gray color that made you think of thick morning fog on the hills and the smooth silver locket your mother always wore around her neck. They reminded you of your grandmother’s thin wispy locks piled on her head like the crown she deserved to wear. They were pulchritudinous and alluring, but above all things, soft and gentle. His eyes were warm and inviting, but mysteriously deep and full of stories at the same time somehow, and that’s what made them so complicatedly beautiful.

Tonight though, they weren’t. They’d lost their sparkle of happiness. He looked at you with eyes like a hard slate of steel. You cocked your head to the side, smile slipping into a hard line. You stood gazing back at the inky haired boy across the room, nibbling on your bottom lip. You didn’t think you’d noticed how breathtaking Sirius Black was until now. He was a ball of pure sunshine most days, a burning flame. But, now his fire had gone out and you saw vulnerability and imperfection. You saw Sirius for the human he was, not for the light he pretended to be. 

You were pulled abruptly from your trance as Marlene whisked Sirius away. You blinked a couple times before shaking your head and stumbling to the cup counter. You picked up a red solo cup, muttering James’ incantation for the automatic refills and downed a couple of cupfuls, distracting yourself from Sirius and directing your attention to a hammered Gryffindor boy a year above you.

It didn’t take him long to be stolen away from you by a few of his friends. Sighing, you plopped down on the bottom step leading up to the boys’ dorms. You watched the party around you. The chaos of it all always intrigued you. It wasn’t long before a seething Marlene Mckinnon stomped past you, Sirius following feet behind her. He stopped where you were, sitting down beside you. 

You took a sip of your drink before turning your head to look at him, “What was that about?”  

“You know how Marlene is,” he said, lighting a cigarette. “She throws a fit when she doesn’t get what she wants.” 

“Yeah?” you asked, playfully ramming your shoulder into his. “And what is it that she wanted?” 

He sighed heavily, smoke billowing out from between his lips and shook his head, turning to you. “You wanna get out of here?” 

“Gladly,” you said, taking the hand Sirius offered you. You let him pull you through oceans of people and out of the common room. He led you through the portrait hole and into the hauntingly vacant halls of after hours Hogwarts. Sirius didn’t stop outside of the Gryffindor Tower, though. He continued to hold your hand in his own regardless of the fact that he couldn’t possibly lose you in these empty, commotion free hallways. You didn’t mind though. You followed at his heels until he came to an abrupt halt.  

“Why are we stopping?” you asked. 

A smirk crawled onto his face slowly as he started to tap on the nearest window. You furrowed your eyebrows. The hallway you were on looked out over the Black Lake and was full of windows. Each was long and rectangular, stretching about two inches from both the floor and the ceiling. It was magnificent at night; stars twinkling through the glass and casting soft shadows throughout the tunnel like way. Sirius didn’t seem to notice though. He pushed on the window softly, and your eyes widened. 

The window swung open like a door, revealing a dark room. Sirius stepped through and for seconds, you thought he might fall. He smiled from inside, tugging softly on the hand he still held. You stepped through in complete awe. Hogwarts had many secrets, you knew that, but you never thought you might discover one of them. Instinctively, Sirius wielded your wand, whispering, “Lumos…” 

The room instantly lightened and Sirius walked to the center of the room, pulling a string hanging from the ceiling. Around the room, several pedestals appeared, each holding a circular crystal ball holding a blueish light. The balls of light lit up the entire room. Sirius returned to you as you gawked at all the moving portraits. Each depicted a child, no older than you or Sirius, completing highly advanced magical endeavors - taming trolls, riding graphorns, battling quintapeds. On the opposite wall as you, a golden jewel covered box sat on yet another pedestal. You turned to Sirius, “What’s in the box?” 

Sirius stuffed his wand down in his pocket, “Open it.” 

You let your fingers slip through his and approached the box. It was rectangular and the top hand no hinges. You ran your fingers along clusters of ruby, sapphire, emerald, and amber before sliding the heavy top off the matching box. Reaching inside, you pulled out a wooden goblet. You cocked your head to the side, “What is this?” 

“Looks like a prehistoric goblet to me,” Sirius answered, plucking it from your hands and inspecting it himself. 

You snatched it back, “You mean, you don’t know what it is?”  

“I’ve never opened the box before,” he told you, leaning against the wall. “Thought there might be something dangerous in there.”

You put the cup back into the box hastily, glaring at Sirius playfully. You knew he would never truly let anything hurt you. He cracked a small smile and you couldn’t help but to grin back. He sighed, “This room could use some chairs, wouldn’t you think?” 

“I don’t think this room is meant for sitting,” you said, plopping down on the floor regardless. “I think it’s a room for reminiscing, like history museums, or something…” 

Sirius sat down next to you, “What are you plans for Christmas?” 

“The same as they are every year,” you answered shortly. “What about you? What do the Blacks do to get into the Christmas cheer?” 

“Easy answer,” he laughed. “We don’t.” 

“Oh c’mon,” you rolled your eyes. “Christmas cheer is infectious, like the bloody flu. You can’t even buy a coffee in December without seeing at least one sad bloke dressed up like Santa.” 

“Yeah, well if that’s the case, we’re immune,” he snorted. 

You propped you head up on your nears, narrowing your eyes, “I don’t believe that Sirius Black, an actual ball of sunshine, is immune to the Christmas spirit. I refuse to.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, leaning back onto the floor, sliding his hands to use as a makeshift pillow under his head. “Well, maybe this ‘ball of sunshine’ is just burnt out.” 

You frowned, your voice lowering as you spoke, “I refuse to believe that, too.” 

“I’m not going home this Christmas,” he said abruptly. “I’m going to James’. His mum, Euphemia, she’s a dime, really. And Fleamont, Prongs’ old man, he’s just as grand. The Potters - they’ve never made me feel anything less than family, so why do I still feel so…alone?”

You sprawled out on the floor beside him, staring at one of the crystalline balls. You remembered hearing the story at the beginning of the school year that Sirius had ran away from home over the summer vacation and has been living with the Potters since, but gossip was never really your thing, and you hadn’t even thought about it until now. Sirius turned his head to look at you and you licked your lips before talking once again. “Blood is thicker than water, Black.” 

“Thanks, Y/L/N,” he snapped sarcastically. “But my blood - it fucking sucks.” 

“The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” you said. “The bonds we choose to have are stronger than those that are forced.” 

“What in Merlin’s name are you rambling about now?” he asked, interest lacing his tone. 

“The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” you repeated, sitting up. He followed suit, listening as you spoke more. “Blood doesn’t make a family, Sirius, love does.” 

He slung an arm around your shoulders, “I think this sunshine might shine a little brighter with you around.” 

You grinned up at him, watching the twinkle return to his eye. The silver, captivating sheen arrived with the toothy smile he gave you. He chuckled, turning his head away from you. You giggled, resting your head on his shoulder. All around the two of you, the lights in the spheres faded away and suddenly, the room was filled with blackness. But, you could still see Sirius smiling beside you.

In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present. 

anonymous asked:

Hello! I just found your blog and I already adore it, so, if it was okay with you, could you write headcanons about the RFA+V+Saeran with an MC who loves giving hugs and being hugged? (if you don't want to do this request, it's okay, you can make your won request and write it, I would love to see anything you write, honestly)

That is the sweetest thing ever oh my goodness. Thank you sooooooo much <3
This is me. I loves hugs. I love hugs a lot. I’m a hugger. Kinda explains the url I guess. I need hugs.

-He’s a hugger too
-You guys are never not hanging onto each other.
-There is never a time you aren’t in each other’s arms.
-And honestly it’s great for both of you.
-He really loves that you enjoy hugging him because he loves hugging you too :)
-There’s been so many incidents at RFA parties where the other members tell you to get a room because you’re just hanging all over each other.
-If he’s having a rough day, remembering that you’ll be at home with arms wide open is the biggest comfort that gets him through the day.
-He’ll just come home and immediately cling to you.
-You don’t mind.
-You guys are like puzzle pieces.

-Yes please
-Give me all the hugs yesyesyesyesyes
-He loves it so much
-He loves when you hug him and he has all of your attention and love because awww you’re so cuuuuute~
-Zen loves it so much that sometimes when he’s busy he just lets you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his torso and just carries you around.
-Or he’ll give you a piggyback ride. Either one is okay with him because he just doesn’t want you to let go of him even when he’s busy.
-If you’d be in the way doing that, you just stand or sit next to him and hug his arm which he loves just as much. (did I mention I love arm hugs? because I do.)
-Your hugs are the best hugs and nobody can convince him otherwise. No one else’s hugs make him feel that special.

-Your hugs are her favorite thing in the world.
-She’ll just be going about her day and she’ll feel your arms slowly wrap around her waist and your head gently press into her back.
-It’s just the cutest and sweetest thing EVER to her.
-If she’s in a bad mood, she finds herself missing the warmth of your hugs.
-She’ll come to you with a frown and just quietly ask for a hug.
-You tackle her in the biggest, warmest, most comforting hug ever.
-No more sad Jaehee.
-It’s magical.
-Cuddle sessions are a daily thing, of course, and she looks forward to it all day.
-If you’re not around, she’ll hug one of your shirts or jackets (or maybe just wear them) until you come back. It’s not the same as hugs, but it can suffice until you come home :)

-Everyday, when he comes home from work, the second he steps in the door, you tackle him in a hug.
-It is the cutest thing ever.
-Somedays when he comes home, you can tell by the way he stands gloomily in the doorway that he’s had a bad day.
-So instead of tackling him, you walk over to him and gently pull him into a hug while humming quietly.
-You whisper “welcome home” and rub his back.
-His day is no longer bad.
-Seriously, your hugs could cure diseases. They could create world peace.
-He truly believes that you are actually an angel.
-That’s his favorite thing to call you btw
-Jumin’s favorite pass time? Hugging you.
-His favorite is when you wrap your arms around his torso and rest your head on his chest.
-You’re just so cute and precious it makes him want to never let go of you.

-It made it even more difficult for him to ignore you in that one part of his route because you just wanted to hug him and he really wanted to let you but he couldn’t.
-After that’s all over though,
-He will let you hug him whenever you want.
-He likes having your arms wrapped around him. It’s comforting.
-You’ll sometimes cling to him as he’s on the computer or watching TV with your legs around his waist and your head and arms on his shoulders.
-It’s his favorite cuddle position.
-100% down to be the little spoon when you guys sleep or cuddle. He actually prefers it.
-If he’s ever super busy and you can’t hug him without getting in the way, you just kind of grip the end of his shirt because it’s better than nothing.
-It’s adorable to him.

-It’s so calming to have you clinging to him.
-Feeling you against him is the best feeling ever. He can’t see much and he gets a bit anxious if he can’t feel you with him. Lucky for him, you’re always hugging him.
-He’s always so soft and warm too, and he smells nice, and sometimes he likes to stroke your hair (I really want to hug V)
-Sometimes you just latch onto him and refuse to let go.
-“_____, sweetie, I need to go-”
-He really would rather stay and cuddle you all day but he’s got things to do and places to be.
-You fight him tho
-Like excuse you no you’re staying my arms all day you have no say in this
-You usually win and you hug and cuddle him for as long as you want (which is basically forever)

-You held back when you first started dating because you knew he wasn’t comfortable with lots of contact.
-He warms up to the idea though fairly quickly.
-He never regrets it.
-Your arms make him feel safe. Just something about knowing your body is right by his makes him feel completely at ease, like nothing bad can happen because you’re here.
-If you see him looking sad or angry, you just slowly ease him into a hug and it makes him feel so loved and happy.
-He looks back to those moments and smiles.
-He finds himself needing to be in your arms any time he’s upset.
-Nightmares, intrusive thoughts, anxiety, all that mess.
-You can make all of that go away by holding him in your arms.
-No matter what mood he’s in though, he loves your hugs. They’re the nicest thing he’s ever experienced.

anonymous asked:

Bts reaction to: you always wear jeans hoodies and sneakers, but one night you go out and they see you really dressed up for the first time?💕

Jin: Instantly you’d the see the look of shock on his face. He’s not one who’s able to hide his emotions without wearing them on his face. The boy couldn’t stop himself from blurting out mid-sentence how good you look. He might even admit that you’re the better looking one, just this once.

Originally posted by absivthe

Yoongi: A little more of a subtle reaction than Jin’s. He wouldn’t show much of a reaction to the change but you’d definitely catch his eyes lingering longer than usual. He’s pretty much fine with however way you dress as long as you’re still going out with him but he wouldn’t miss a chance to tell you how beautiful you look.

Originally posted by jeonsshi

Namjoon: Oh boy…He’d be somewhat of a mess to be honest. He’d start acting clumsier than usual due to him staring way too much. He’s all about you wearing what makes you comfortable but he’s really happy you decided to dress up. Be careful though he might be a little hard to handle after you two went back home

Originally posted by yoongichii

Hoseok: I feel like he’d be happy that you dressed up for them but worried for you at the same time. He knew wearing heels and a dress wasn’t the most comfortable thing and would ask if you were okay occasionally. As long as you were happy so was he.

Originally posted by myloveseokjin

Jimin: Alot of prolonged staring and somewhat of a mix between Hoseok and Namjoon’s reaction. He wants to make sure you’re comfortable but it’s also semi a turn on for him.

Originally posted by park-jimizzle

Taehyung: 100% Wondering whether or not you’re okay and unintentionally touchy. He’s already a boyfriend who loves physical contact even if you’re just holding hands. It just didn’t become as noticeable until you were wearing slightly less clothes. Probably one of those boyfriends who offers to massage your feet after the dates over (Also one of the more innocent reactions)

Originally posted by bwipsul

Jungkook: Since he’s still fairly young you already know this boy’s hormones are going crazy. He’s stuttering on his words and he seems more nervous, slightly intimidated by how amazing you look. After he gets more comfortable though be careful of some cocky flirting.

Originally posted by baekon-stripss

BTS as Mafia Members...

Originally posted by fyea-ongseongwoo

But imagine Kookie, the maknae, being the leader instead of big bad Joonie. He would be the most experienced in the drug & gang world cause he grew up with all of it surrounding him. He would be an expert fighter, perfect negotiator, extremely manipulative & has a facade as the levelheaded type, but in actuality, he’s filled with rage literally every second of every day. 

Then you have the rest of the boys, Joonie would be the second-in-command. Kook’s right-hand man for everything. He’s wise, caring, & when he needs to be, extremely violent and crude. He cares for the members like they’re his family & he’s always there for every single one of them. Every decision that Kook decides is always run by Namjoon to see if it’s the right thing to do or if there’s a better way to do it.

Yoongi would be the info-breaker. Always tracking current targets that need to be dead, guiding the boys through their latest haste, breaking down firewalls, hacking into security systems, & so much more. He’s the eyes in the sky & everywhere else. He knows anything & everything about anyone or anything. 

Taehyung would be the drug lord. He’s out & about doing every deal that bangtan is able to score. He’s the main source of their income and if he’s not doing his “professional work” then he’s probably in the back room getting high, getting completely fuck drunk or snorting cocaine off of some poor girl’s thighs.

Jimin is the weapon specialist. For some odd reason, he knows everything there is to know about weapons. It’s slightly uncomfortable how he knows all the little quirks and tips to guns, swords, machetes, everything. He’s witty, strong, & if you want a specific weapon… Jimin’s defiantly the guy to go to. It doesn’t matter if it’s something as exotic as a flamethrower or basic like a pistol. Jimin will, without a doubt, have it.

Jinnie is the getaway guy as well as the doc. He’s the man waiting in the car with a walkie-talkie so he can hear the other members during their haste. He’s analytical & knows the way around the streets like the back of his palm. He’s always ready & on edge cause, the entire plan really depends on him. If he doesn’t cooperate then everything falls apart. He’s the heart of the system, without Jin… nothing works properly but he’s also the man that stitches their wounds, pulls out the bullets from their flesh, heals their bruises, and cleans their cuts.

Hoseok is the trainer. He’s strong and all bronze. He trains anyone that enters their little gang into being the best fighter they can possibly be. He’s very violent & by far the greatest fighter there is (excluding Kook, of course) but above all things… Hoseok’s also the lover boy. Flirty, cunning & there’s never a time where he isn’t wearing that infamous smirk that drives people crazy. He flirts his way through anything & if bangtan needs to persuade a specific person, Hoseok is the guy to go to. Male or female, it makes no difference. His task is to get someone so sexually frustrated that they give in to him and let their guard down for just enough time to let him through.

credit;; @mint-kook‘s “note #1″ thing I wanted to share my own thoughts on the same subject so… thanks to them ;))

Originally posted by dangerously-jamless

princessskylarsblog  asked:

Whenever I read headcanons about sharing clothes I always feel a little sad because I feel like I'm too big to fit into other people's clothes so do you have any plus sized reader hcs for xmen (girls and guys) and/or riverdale (girls and guys) btw I love your writing!!!!!!!

I’m gonna do Warren, Alex, Jean, Kurt and Jubilee for X-Men, and Reggie and Cheryl for Riverdale!



• due to the width of his wings, Warren pretty much only wears large shirts, because small sizes tend to rip apart when he tries to cut them up to make his wings slide in

• when he starts to notice that some of his shirts seem to disappear, he’s confused - until he sees them on you, with the huge gaps for his wings left unused

• it warms his heart to see you in his clothes - because it means that you’re proud of showing the world you’re his.

• you find some of his ripped shirts neatly hung in your closet not too long after that.
• as much as he enjoyed wearing tight clothes when he was a teenager, Alex finds comfort in large clothes as he grows up (mainly because he feels protected in some way - he seeks safety everywhere he can after Vietnam)

• he loves to wear huge jackets and button ups, always taking them large enough for his hands to drown in fabric

• when you start to show interest in his clothes, he offers his favorite pieces to you right away, wanting you to feel as comfortable as he does when he’s hidden beneath his huge flannels

• he makes sure that they smell like him when he first hands them to you, knowing how much you love the smell of his cologne

• and even though he won’t admit it, he always presses the fabric against his nose once you’ve worn them, your scent making him feel at home
• even though Jean is thin, she always wears extensible fabrics - mainly because they’re always softer and more comfortable than the others

• the first time she catches you looking at her clothes longingly, she presses a kiss to your temple, smiling at you and offering to lend you some of her tops

• due to her love for stretchy fabric, they fit, and from then on, she always makes sure to buy only that for the both of you
• Kurt - due to his small size and background with the circus - tends to wear tighter clothes, wanting them to fit him nicely (he takes a lot of time to choose his clothes in the morning, he loves to look good)

• when he sees you holding his clothes to your body and frown, however, his adorable self can’t help but do something.

• the next few days, while you’re going through his wardrobe, you’re surprised to find large sweaters and joggings, all of them feeling soft and smelling like him.

• he never finds it in him to tell you he’s bought them for you - but he does love feeling cozy in some sweats (and looks adorable in them)
• Jubilee had already started to steal your clothes when you showed interest in doing the same, face falling once you realized that her clothes wouldn’t fit you

• hating to see you upset, she takes it upon herself to make her wardrobe more accessible to you, and starts to buy exceptionally stylish clothes a few sizes too big, wearing them proudly (and even starting a new trend at Xavier’s)


• Reggie being the huge guy he is (in all of his 6ft3 glory), most of his clothes fit you - and go down to your knees

• his favorite thing in the world is when you wear his clothes, and he always brags about it to his friends

• it always makes his heart swell with love and pride, to see you wearing his things around school
• Unfortunately, Cheryl only owns skin tight designer clothes in her enormous wardrobe

• or well, until she notices you glancing at her clothes way too long for it to be simply admiring

• from that day on, she buys larger clothes as well - all designer - and pretends not to know what you’re talking about when you confront her ( “Cheryl, those clothes are way too big for you! Why are they here?” “Excuse you, darling, but this is the new trend!”)

the posh boy solution

hi hello welcome to the second part of this little piece

part one: the posh boy problem

also available on: AO3


Sometimes John calls Sherlock little secret names in his head. Greets him with hey, handsome in the morning, calls him genius when he’s being too clever, calls him pretty man, silly git, sweetheart. But sometimes he just needs to call him,

“You fucking idiot!”

John throws his jacket at the back of his chair in obvious distress. It falls off immediately. He is clearly angry with him, Sherlock has observed the ragged breath and flaring nostrils long ago and drawn his conclusions. He wonders what exactly he’s done wrong to upset him so much. The fact that he (technically not quite) stole a boat or that he managed to fall into the Thames? He himself is just upset about having been forced to sacrifice his woollen coat in order to save himself from drowning. Of course, he owns lots of coats. You never know when an accidence like this one might occur.

While Sherlock swam to the shore, John made sure the jewellery thieves, due to which that boat chase had originally been initiated, did not shoot at Sherlock, and in the process of that received a pretty hard blow to the head. A bump is already growing just next to the vein that always pulsates visibly when John is angry.

“You should cool that,” Sherlock suggests.

“Shut up! I will cool that when I feel like cooling it, I’m a bloody doctor!”

Sherlock swallows. It’s worse than he thought. He cannot deny that he likes John when he is on the right side of angry, but this is probably the wrong side and he is also being yelled at.

“A boat chase, Sherlock?!”

“In my defence-” Sherlock starts, but is interrupted by John raising a finger, ordering him to shut the hell up.

“Take your clothes off.”

Sherlock stares. Sherlock blinks. His mind stays blank for a worryingly long amount of time. Then he remembers. He’s wet. Soaked, in fact, completely down to his bones, and freezing too. It’s taken him a little long to catch up because these words, words spoken in the tone of an army captain, are something he’s last heard two days ago, half asleep and desperate in his own bedroom. Another one of those nights in which his imagination filled in for the needs that reality doesn’t meet.

John is waiting in this charged air of silence, maybe having realised what he just said, maybe not. Sherlock tips his chin up and obeys.

“I’m not so posh anymore now, am I?” he mutters under his breath.

John presses his lips together at this, and Sherlock worries briefly that the vein at his temple might just burst. His eyes withhold a certain kind of spark, like a candle flickering, like the glare of a predator. All of a sudden, Sherlock feels stripped completely naked by those eyes only. Then he comes to realise … He’s stripping down. The ruined jacket abandoned next to his shoes and socks, his shirt hanging open to expose his chest and stomach, and his trousers… he’s in the process of shoving them down his thighs. The process of stripping down to his underwear for John Watson. But he feels naked.

John is walking towards him. Slowly, like he means to break him. He might.

His eyes are boring into Sherlock’s own and electrify the space between them, the air they breathe. Sherlock swallows, once more, but his throat is dry and he is thirsty. He is cold, goosebumps all over his body from the river water and those ocean eyes, but his skin is hot with anticipation.

John steps right into his space. Sherlock can smell him. It does things to him, awful things to his heightened senses. It clouds them, but at the same time he is overly aware of naked skin and of John wearing way too many clothes.

“Yeah,” John whispers roughly, so rough and so low he could hurt himself on that sandpaper voice. “You’re still a fucking posh boy.”

John’s eyes drop, and his breath is ragged, but Sherlock suspects this time it’s for entirely different reasons than anger. He doesn’t know who gives in first, and frankly, he  doesn’t give one fuck about it because the next thing he knows is that John’s lips are on his and it feels like he’s dying and being reborn in one single breath.

They long for each other, and their lips meet so hard it might leave bruises. John is all-consuming, is groaning and opening his mouth by opening his own first. Sherlock’s knees buckle at the sensation that is John’s tongue running over his bottom lip. If this is what it’s like to kiss John Watson, he should be put in chains because it’s dangerous. He walks him backwards, shoves him into the wall next to the kitchen. Sherlock’s trousers have dropped down to his ankles and he almost falls over them, held upright by the hard surface of the wall where he bumps his head into.

Dizzy and with a sharp pain buzzing through the back of his head, he feels weightless when John lifts one of his legs, slowly running his hand over the underside of his thigh, fingers through thin hairs and over hard muscle, and Sherlock’s natural reaction is to wrap his leg around John’s middle and hold on tight, so tight. His trousers are hanging from the end of his foot like one last resort before they fall off and to the floor. The pain wears off, and suddenly Sherlock thinks he can feel everything.

The smooth fabric of John’s shirt and the rough one of his jeans that presses against the lower part of his body. Against his thighs and hipbones and the growing bulge in his pants. John’s one hand is rubbing back and forth over his inner thigh and the soft spot where it dissolves into firm buttocks. A soft spot that draws a quite whine out of the back of his throat. He places his other hand on his face to hold him. Lifting his jaw ever so slightly, his thumb is stroking over one sharp cheekbone, and he kisses him again.

Sherlock still feels like he is dying, but it’s different than it was before. John deepens the kiss, and he feels utterly devoured. He’s never wanted anything more, he thinks. Wrapped up in all of him. It fuels his addictive personality in many dangerous ways, but he cannot think, can only indulge in this dance of drawing back only to lean back in again, tongues against each other in one hot wet mess.

All the blood is running south, and as he wraps his arms around John’s neck, he isn’t quite sure how to feel, much less what he is doing.

John breaks the kiss with a sigh. A long, dreamy sigh Sherlock has trouble interpreting correctly. Is it regret? Relief? Pity? But as he closes his eyes in silence, he brings their foreheads together and leans against him. They stay like this for what seems like minutes over minutes, and it should be uncomfortable, should feel ridiculous - with one of them undressed and the two of them panting against each other - but it doesn’t. They breathe together in unison, and when John draws back to look at him, his eyes don’t show anger, aren’t predatory. They are warm, they are gentle.

“You have no idea how long…” he begins, but doesn’t quite know where he was going with it, or if he wants this sentence to end.

Sherlock’s response gets stuck in his throat and its remains come out in a sob. “Yes,” he manages.

“And all this time,” John continues, “So much time…”

“It’s okay,” Sherlock assures him. His voice is quiet, as if he was afraid of breaking emotions fragile and clear as glass. And when they aren’t clear as glass, they are a thick fog of all the things left unsaid. It’s very hard to see through it, but what he sees is sharp enough. “We’re here now.”

John leans back in. He takes his time now, is gentle in his touches and caresses his cheeks. They feel wet, somehow, but Sherlock doesn’t understand why. It’s like the tears are falling naturally.

“Bedroom,” John whispers.

How many times has he imagined John Watson in his bed before this? He hasn’t kept track, but he knows that this time couldn’t be further from his imagination. Because it is reality. And it feels so, so much better than anything else in the world.

John doesn’t hold anything back with him. He kisses him in every spot, he bites his lip and neck and, oh god, the sensitive skin up, up his thighs. He whispers names into all of those spots, lets them sink into his flesh and travel to his chest where they can burn and glow and melt his insecurities with flickers of bliss.

He calls him love when he breaks a kiss, calls him honey as he buries his face in the crook of his neck, calls him genius when Sherlock touches him in the most intimate of places. He tells him he is gorgeous, tells him I need you and I want you. It’s the hottest thing in Sherlock’s ears, goes straight between his legs. He asks him, Is this okay?, asks almost desperately how, how can I have you?

He calls him you brilliant man when he groans, you pretty, pretty boy. But as he thrusts, harder, yes harder, sinks his teeth into his flesh and moans, as his movements became frantic and they are so close and wrapped in each other with tangled limbs and desperation, and yes, as he comes, the one thing on his lips is Sherlock. Only Sherlock. As beautiful as he has ever heard his own name sound. He’s had no idea his name could sound like this, and he’s not sure how anything else could ever come close to being this good.

They lie together, cuddling and blissed out and fucking happy for the first time in what seems to have taken ages. Sherlock feels a smile stretching across his face. John’s thumb caresses long laugh lines as he is bent over him. But he isn’t smiling back. He looks like something worries him.

“Don’t ever risk your own life like that again,” he warns him, but warns him softly.

Sherlock thinks about it in the most rational way he can. He is very serious when he says, “If risking my life leads to this right here, to you and me, I might just consider it.”

John goes ahead and bites him. Just below his jawline, as he has very recently learned he likes a lot.

Sherlock gasps and John lets go.

“Oh no,” he whispers. “This wasn’t a reward, Sherlock. It was… long overdue. I’m still mad at you.”

Sherlock looks away in honest concern and fear. “Are you really?”

John sighs. “No.”

They cuddle in silence for a long while. Sherlock is very close to falling asleep. He is much closer to losing himself to whatever he feels for John Watson. He knows it is love. He’s not sure how much more it is, but it might just kill him one day. That might just be fine with him.

“You’re my posh boy now,” John murmurs right before he feels himself drift away.

He smiles, honestly. Wholeheartedly.

“I’ve never been anything else, John.”



Keep reading

Babybones Headcanons

Motherfucking 2 am inspiration how come I can’t use you for papers or anything in my askbox


-Was actually more energetic when he was a kid. I mean he was still pretty drowsy, but less likely to fall asleep in the middle of something

-He was always right where he shouldn’t be. Gaster trying to hide presents? Sans is in that closet with a big innocent grin. “’Sup?”

-Prefers to dress himself whenever possible. Likes clothes that are three times too big. Also wearing anything of Gaster’s, especially his giant t-shirts

-He asks a lot of questions, usually about stuff that people don’t want to tell him


-Very smiley, even as a baby he had the biggest grin imaginable whenever he was in a room with someone he liked. And he liked almost everybody. One of the easiest babysitting jobs

-Very very modest, he stopped letting even his brother and dad see him without clothes on when he was five. He learned how to bathe himself pretty quickly too.

-Fussy about clothing textures, he can’t go out if his shoes are too tight or his shirt feels weird or too loose. This carried over into adulthood, which is why he tends to wear the same clothes over and over. He knows they fit right.


-He was honestly kind of a sweet kid, if a little too distrustful. It would take him a while to warm up to somebody and even longer before he would leave them alone with Papyrus. Even Gaster, shitty as he was, was subject to this protectiveness. Whenever Asgore or someone else powerful came over he would find Sans constantly peeking in doorways to see if he was still okay

-Would break shit all the time because he couldn’t sit still and was constantly fidgeting with things. That’s why Gaster started teaching him mechanics. So he could fix it on his own without bothering him

-As a kid he was constantly chewing on things, whether on purpose or on accident. Especially small scraps of metal.

-He didn’t do it often but his unguarded smile is the brightest Underground


-So so bossy. Unless a person proved they could beat his ass he would tell them what to do no matter how much bigger they were. Sans did not help at all, he usually just went along with what his brother would say (albeit complaining a lot)

-He was a master of the mega tantrum

-He made up for slights with gifts. Even as a kid he had a hard time apologizing verbally and would usually just shove a gift (or occasionally a rushed hug) at whoever he had offended. A picture he colored, a rock he thought was cool, metal scraps for Sans….all shoved at his offendee with a blush and a mutter before scampering away again

-He had a hard time expressing his emotions and hated crying in front of people. He would normally let it all out in his room alone.


-On the go. He never stopped moving from the second he mastered rolling all the way up into walking and running and beyond. 

-He got away with so much shit when he was a kid, because he could always run away from the damage before anyone found it, and was after protected by his adorable face and “who, me?” eyes.

-He HATED cutesy nicknames, and was always very insistent that he be called Sans. 


-As opposed to Tale’s modesty, the trouble was keeping this little guy’s clothes on. He was always shedding clothing left and right, his hands were constantly down his pants or up his shirt, it was embarrassing to take him out in public

-Very salty as a kid, which got him into a lot of trouble

-When he was little he actually really resented Sans for getting all the attention. He got over it pretty quick though. And having a cute little brother as the face of your operations has its perks.


-Extremely possessive, of toys, clothes, brothers, babysitters, everything. His first word was “MINE” followed shortly after by “NO”. Papyrus was the only one he might (reluctantly) share with

-He wasn’t as bossy as Edge but when you went against him something of yours was generally broken within the next few minutes.

-Absolutely fearless. Which is why Syrup spent half his life dragging him out of fights he couldn’t win


-Old soul. From as young as three you could tell this was the kid who would always take the most weight

-For the love of hell let the child cook with you. Or help you do anything really. His face lights up. He liked feeling needed.

-Hoarded stuffed toys. He still has a few.

Irene and Sherlock went to university together and became good pals. One of their favourite things to do was go out to eat, and Irene would ask if Sherlock was into any boys, and Sherlock would ask the same of Irene, but about girls. 

And whenever their waiter came to serve them and asked Sherlock if Irene was his girlfriend, they’d just exchange glances and then burst out laughing. 

It was a funny thought, after all. 

Sherlock? Irene? Straight? Straight as a corkscrew.

Years later, when Sherlock met John, Irene texted constantly, asking what sweater John was wearing that day and what Sherlock rated it on a scale of one to ten, one being inexplicably ugly and ten being by far the most adorable thing he’d ever seen in his life. 

When Sherlock didn’t answer ten, he answered eleven. 

“Those Three Words Aren’t Enough”

Your best friend Chris Evans is going to marry the love of his life this weekend and you’ve never been more excited for something – besides maybe seeing your other best friend Sebastian Stan again after you haven’t see him for months. However, your reunion doesn’t happen as you thought it would be.

Warning: None
Sebastian Stan x Reader
Part ONE 

Keep reading

As a little girl, Lily had never particularly liked her name for three very important reasons.
For one, the idea of everyone in the family being named after flowers, while seemingly a good one from the outside, got a little boring when she had to write out Christmas letters to Aunt Daisy, cousin Daisy, and second cousin once removed Daisy; or when someone yelled Rose at a party and four women answered.
Secondly, Lily didn’t even particularly like lilies. Her favorite flowers were sunflowers, thank you very much, and when boys tried to flirt with her by giving her lilies she usually just got annoyed.
Lastly, and most importantly, lilies were a funeral flower, and Lily Evans was anything but a funeral. Lily Evans was, as a matter of fact, brimming over with life.
In her third year Lily sat next to Sirius Black in Charms, as he had to be separated from his mates due to misbehavior and Flitwick thought she would be a good influence, and during class she learned three very important things about him.
Firstly, he wasn’t as bad as Severus made him out to be, and neither were his friends, as long as they were away from Severus. Often times she could depend on them to make her laugh after a long day, and also hanging about Sirius and his mates enabled her to team up with Peter Pettigrew at cards and trick James Potter out of his “vastly over the top riches”, as Remus Lupin liked to call them.
Secondly, he was immensely posh, and also a pureblood, both of which Lily had known before but never really realized the consequences of, and also was most assuredly not, and so the two of them spent particularly boring classes swapping stories about their upbringings, which culminated in Lily giving Sirius several toy cars for his birthday, which he Charmed to drive through the air and deliver messages to and fro in the Gryffindor common room and dorms.
Lastly, and most importantly, his family also named children according to a theme, in his case stars, and so he partially understood the absurdity of it all. The two took to calling each other by different names every time they saw each other, to the rest of the school’s bemusement, Lily’s favorite for Sirius being Adhara, as it meant virgin and so made Sirius mad, and Sirius’ being mushroom, for no particular reason other than when he called Lily it she would clench her jaw every time without fail and he thought it was hilarious.
In her fifth year Lily did patrols with Remus Lupin, as they were the two fifth year Gryffindor prefects, and also friends, and so she learned three very important things about him.
Firstly, he wasn’t as prim as Sirius made him out to be, and the two spent many happy hours cursing anything that was troubling them while on their patrols, including but not limited to extra long essays, strange chocolate shortages (because Peter kept stealing it) and Sirius’ tendency to wear Lily’s socks, because the two were the same foot size and he insisted her socks were the best for flying in.
Secondly, he was absolute disaster, for all he appeared to be neat and clean, and as Lily was near disaster levels as well, they both had to accept James fussing over them as much as he was allowed, especially the time they came back from patrols with a total of one broken nose, three black eyes, six bruised ribs and two senses of extreme cockiness because they had actually won the fight, no matter their injuries.
Lastly, and most importantly, he was a werewolf, but that wasn’t the really important part. The really important part was that his mates had become illegal Animagus in order to help him, which not only helped their nicknames to actually make some fucking sense, it was also very fucking amazing and gave Lily a new respect for the four boys and their oddly codependent friendship.
In her seventh year Lily dated James, as always had rather liked him, and his head had deflated quite a bit, and in the process she learned three very important things about him.
Firstly, he liked to give her lavish bouquets, but fortunately was a very good listener and so remembered the time she had complained about boys giving her lilys all the time. Instead, James gave her roses on Valentine’s Day, poinsettias and mistletoe on Christmas, violets and buttercups when she was feeling down, and sunflowers for her birthday.
Secondly, he was horrible at understanding the value of money and how to save, as he really was disgustingly rich and didn’t have to. Lily ended up with quite a few beautiful necklaces she didn’t know what to do with until she finally cracked and told James that if he had to buy her something, it may as well be something she needed, and that he could go shopping for clothes with her the next time they went into the village.
Lastly, and most importantly, he loved her quite a lot. Enough, actually, to propose to her, and also to agree to name all their daughters after flowers, because even though Lily hated her name, she intended to pass on the tradition, and James didn’t really care what the kids were named as long as he had enough to put together a full Quidditch team.
In her last year Lily raised her son, as she loved him with all her heart and was in hiding to protect him, and learned three very important things about herself.
Firstly, she was restless in the house they were hiding in, and actually couldn’t stand being inactive. She started brewing potions for the Order with all her spare time, and would send them to Dumbledore every time someone visited.
Secondly, she really did enjoy being a mother, and dreamed of seeing her Harry going off to school to get up to his own mischief, and although she still thought an entire Quidditch team was a rather tall order for children, she would quite like a few more.
Lastly, and most importantly, her name may have been an omen from the start. Because Lily Evans was full of life, but she died too soon, all for the love of her son and her fieriness in standing up for what she believed in.

Hey babes! Here’s some new writing (finally lol) and also the reason I was on the star name wiki earlier this week! I’m not sure about the format of this tbh but I felt like I needed to get something out cause I’ve been bored with myself frankly. AP tests and finals are coming up quick so don’t expect anything new too soon but I do have a couple things in the works and I’m hoping to get one of my classic bullet point posts done before I go on vacation in June. Ty for reading!

Sherlolly Appreciation Week Day 1: First Meeting

Here’s my theory about Sherlock asking Molly for her help for the ‘Stag Night’. “You think I like a… drink?” - Well… 

Thanking @mizjoely for giving it a once over! ~Lil~

-Yes, Molly, I Do Think You Like A Drink-

Molly stumbled to the bench and sat down, glad that she was stationary, even if the rest of the world still seemed to be a bit… wobbly. Her ‘friends’ had left her at the bus stop, drunk, to head to another pub.

“Stupid, awful, bloody, stupid friends,” she mumbled to herself. I could be kidnaped, or abducted! Wait… that’s the same thing. Looking around to check out her surroundings, she saw a man leant up against building behind her and slightly to her left, smoking a fag.

In the dark all she could make out was that he was tall and wearing a long coat. Great! she thought. Probably a flasher. She lowered her head. Not looking at the crazy man!

Hearing footsteps, she realised that the flasher was walking closer to her. Molly was very careful not to look at him again.That’s what’s you’re supposed to do, right? Or was it look at them, try to memorise their face? She was confused… well, maybe more drunk than confused.

“Want one?” a deep voice asked her.

Glancing up at the kidnapper/flasher, Molly shook her head, then turned to her right look for the bus. Where the hell is it?

“It’s coming from this direction,” he said, causing Molly to turn her head toward him once again. He was facing away from her, pointing with his cigarette to the West.

“Thanks,” she said, trying to sound sober. Must not let the maniac know I’m compromised.

“You have a rubbish group of friends, you know that?” he said as he flicked the butt away.

Crazy though he may be, he did have a lovely voice. “Hmm?”

“You’re drunk and alone. It’s nearly midnight.”

“Oh,” she said, keeping her face down. Avoid eye contact with the crazed killer! “I’m not alone and I’m not drunk.”

He chuckled. “Of course not.”

“Ahh… no…” she tried to argue, but really what was she going to say? She was indeed alone, at 11.47 at night and she was drunk.

He walked closer and Molly felt her fear rising, or was it something else?

“Why don’t you just call a cab before someone…”

That sentence was never finished because Molly vomited on his very expensive looking shoes.

“You idiot!” he growled.

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she felt someone easing her to lie down on the bench. “Please don’t kill and abduct me.”

“You got that backwards,” he said. Then she watched him pull out surgical gloves from his pocket (yep, definitely a killer!) and take off his shoes, tossing them in a nearby bin.

She closed her eyes for just a second (to make the world stop spinning), but she could still hear him talking. “Mycroft… (what’s a Mycroft?) Send one of your goons to Hanover Street I’ve stumbled upon a drunken girl whilst waiting on my contact.” He paused and Molly opened her eyes to find him looking at her. “Yes, she’s fine. Abandoned by her friends and in fear that I might kill her. Oh, and I need a new pair of shoes,” he finished just before ringing off.

She was still staring at the man, the beautiful, beautiful man, she now realised, as he walked over and crouched down so that he was nearly eye level with her. “My brother works for the government. He’s sending someone to pick you up. No one’s going to kill you… tonight.”

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Molly said as she looked into the most glorious pair of eyes she’d ever seen.

He seemed unimpressed by her assessment of his looks. “Beauty is a construct based on childhood impressions.”

“There was nothin’ in my childhood like you,” she said, still in awe.

The man smirked. “You were celebrating something this evening.” He studied her, thinking. “Hen night? No… a new job. Your new job!” he finished, almost excitedly.

“How’d you know that?” she asked.

He didn’t respond, just stood and straightened his coat, then pulled out another cigarette and lit it.

“I start tomorrow.”

“You’ll have a hangover on your first day. Not a good first impression.”

“I’ll be fine. I did the math,” she explained as she sat up.

“You what?”

“I did the math, calculating how much alcohol I could drink and avoid a hangover,” she explained.

“Did the numbers not include regurgitation?”

She shrugged. “There were unknown variables.”

His head jerked up. “There he is.”

Molly looked around and saw no one. “You’re going to meet someone now? You don’t even have shoes on.”

“Don’t let the car leave until I get back. I’ll need my shoes when I return.” Then he was gone, jogging around the corner, shoeless.

What a strange man, she thought. Beautiful, but strange.

Concrete (pre-apocalypse!DarylxReader)

Thank you @dxsturbxa for the prompt!

Prompt- Hi!  can i request an imagine with Daryl based on the song Concrete from Tom Odell?<3


Y/N and Daryl are hanging out in an old, abandoned hotel on the outskirts of Georgia and talk about their hopes for the future. One thing leads to another and Daryl ends up accidentally confessing his feelings for Y/N and… well you get it.

In this, I’ve made Daryl around late teens-early twenties?

Warning: fluff, not really smut but a lot of making out and clothes flying all over the damn place so its kind of implied??? idk im really uncomfortable with writing full on smut. strong language and mentions of abuse.

Originally posted by daryl-dixon-is-life

Originally posted by love-is-equal66



“Daryl, come on!” I giggled, running up a ridiculous amount of stairs.

“Calm down, you’re gonna get us caught.” Daryl grumbled, despite slightly speeding up.

Daryl and I had been wandering around for hours, only to discover that we’d stumbled across a run down hotel that had been completely and utterly abandoned. The insides were derelict and messed up, but were still relatively intact. The wallpaper was peeling, the furniture in the lobby was damp and the rugs were worn to oblivion.

“Daryl, who’s gonna catch us? There’s nobody around for miles. Live a little, damn.” I chuckled, finally reaching a floor that didn’t look like the plague had hit it.

“Wow… this place must’ve been classy back in it’s day.” I panted, catching my breath.

“How’d you figure?”

“Because I don’t know about you, but I’ve never felt more out of place in my entire life.” I joked, still astounded by the decent condition of the halls.

Daryl and I became best friends when we were younger because we grew up on the same street. We’d go and hide in some park or woods whenever we got scared of our parents. Daryl’s father always beat up his brother Merle, but as soon as Merle left, it was Daryl’s turn. My Dad died when I was little and my Mama started drinking and beating me when she did. Occasionally, I’d get away before she could and find Daryl.

This was one of those times.

“So, what now? We just stay here for the rest of our lives instead of going back?” Daryl sighed.

“Obviously not, we have to go back at some point, but I figured we could just have some space for a little while.” I replied, then headed off to look inside some of the rooms

I found a large room that was surprisingly full. A bed with numerous amounts of pointless pillows, nightstands with decorative lamps, paintings of fields and ominous looking strangers, and near-mint condition rugs.

“Daryl! Come look at this- oh.” I yelled, only to find he’d been standing behind me this whole time.

“Not too bad,” Daryl sighed and jumped onto the bed.

“I’ve definitely seen worse.” I scoffed, shutting the door behind me and wandering around the room.

“We’ve fuckin’ lived in worse.” Daryl uttered, slinging the throw pillows across the room.

I came across a painting of a woman in a long robe-like dress, a glass of red wine adorning her hand and her hair trailing down her back. She had these amazing brown eyes, but they had absolutely no depth or warmth behind them. She looked soulless and quite frankly, a bit lonely.

“Pretty hot for a painting.” Daryl piped up.

“Shut up, Dixon. Keep in in your pants.” I laughed and hopped onto the bed, the oddly soft sheets sinking beneath me. 

We laid there for a little while before I propped myself up on my elbows and let out an elongated sigh. 

“Daryl, where do you think you’ll be in five years?” I asked.

“God knows. Either in jail or dead, probably.” I wanted to believe that he was joking but he genuinely thought that.

“Where do you want to be in five years?” I rephrased.

Daryl thought for a moment, as if he’d never actually considered it before.

“I don’t know. Maybe in a mechanics. Maybe just kind of riding around. Not back with my old man, that’s for damn sure,” He sighed. “What about you?”

“I don’t know either. I want to do something to help kids though. Don’t want anyone else to go through what we went through. Maybe a teacher?”

“You dropped out of high school.” Daryl chuckled.

“True. Maybe I could open a home for abused kids. Start a business.” I shrugged.

“It’s not a bad idea.” He nodded.

I fell back onto the bed again and tapped my stomach in an uneven beat. Daryl placed a hand over mine to stop me, but I continued over his hand. This went on for another five minutes before he grabbed me and pulled my body onto his and wrapped his arms around me, trapping my arms by my side.

“Daryl, come on! Let me go!” I squealed. He loosened his grip around me and I turned over to face him.

“You’re an ass, Dixon.” I laughed, sitting up and leaning back against his bent legs.

“Yeah, what’s new?” He smirked, not realizing he had his fingers intertwined with mine.

I smiled and let out a small giggle at his self-depreciating comment.

“I really do hope you open that home y’know. I hope you get out.” Daryl said.

“No, I hope we get out. We’ve had each other’s backs since day one and we’re not stopping anytime soon. When I go, I’m takin’ you with me Daryl.” I told him.

He smiled a little and then propped himself up on his elbows.

“You don’t want to drag me around.” 

“Yes I do. You’re my best friend. Even if you are the biggest pain in my ass.” I joked.

We both laughed hysterically, but it all came to a halt.

“God, I love you.” Daryl laughed.

I stopped almost immediately, taken aback by his words.

“I mean, uh… I meant… Forget that I said that,” He chuckled awkwardly.

“Let’s not forget it… You mean that?” I asked softly.

His eyes searched around the room, desperately trying to think of something to say, but he didn’t have to. 

I placed my hands on each side of his face and pressed my lips to his, and in response, his hands found their way to my waist. Daryl sat up properly and leaned back against the headboard, allowing him hold onto more of me. His hands traveled down to my hips and rested there, gently digging his fingers into my jeans every now and again. My hands switched from his face to the hem of his shirt, which he then fluently pulled off like it was nothing, only breaking the kiss momentarily before continuing. He tossed it across the room, exposing his sculpted, slightly bruised torso and well-placed tattoo. I ran my hands up his stomach and chest, his skin burning up with anticipation. He flipped us both over so his body was hovering above mine, his hips rolling against mine on occasion. I sat up and tore my shirt off, sending it flying in the opposite direction to Daryl’s. 

“You sure you want to?” He asked between kisses on my neck.

“Positive.” I confirmed, running my hands through his hair and across his shoulders as he made his marks over my neck and throat.

The next morning, the first thing I felt was Daryl’s warmth radiating onto me. My head was buried in the crook of his neck and his arm was protectively draped over me while he still slept peacefully. I gently placed his arm back by his side and got up slowly as to not disturb him. The first item of clothing I found is Daryl’s shirt, which was at least two sizes too big for me, but I threw it on anyway. I stepped outside onto the balcony and laid my eyes upon miles and miles of emptiness, bar two old women walking their dogs. One of them realized that I was in the abandoned hotel and laughed. She waved sweetly and continued walking, so I figure that she must’ve done the same sort of thing when she was my age. My legs trembled slightly due to the sore, yet oddly pleasing sensation in my core. Suddenly, Daryl joined me on the balcony, wrapping his arms around my waist and hugging me tightly. Glancing back, I noticed that all he was wearing was a sheet hung loosely around his hips.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He whispered in my ear.

“Hey.” I replied, grinning like an idiot.

“What you doin’?” He asked, resting his chin on the top of my head.

“Nothing, just… thinkin’.” I sighed.

I turned to face him and placed a long, lingering kiss against his lips.

“Thank you for last night, Daryl.” I smiled contently.

“It was beyond my pleasure, baby.” He laughed.

“Y’know, I get that this hotels nice, but… I would’ve spent last night with you on a bed made of concrete with no sheets.” He told me.

“Me too. Even though, the bed was kind of a bonus,” I chuckled. “I don’t want to go back…” I said sadly, resting my head against his chest.

“We don’t have to. Let’s just stay here. Or run away.”

I laugh at his outlandish proposal.

“I’m bein’ serious. Y/N… run away with me.”

I look up into his eyes and for the first time, I see genuine sincerity.

“Okay… Okay, lets do it. I love you.”