lies down on the floor

scoobyatemysnax  asked:

thank you for drawing the owls ;u; ♥ (as well as treating them to timtams) basically thank you for being such a precious ~star and always contributing ur incredible art to the hq fandom and the world and all the galaxies tbh (♡´❍`♡)*✧ ✰ 。*

thank you for appreciating them!! ♡

Au where bokuto finds himself to be the single parent to a newborn child while in college. bokuto loves kids and is good with them but listen. no one is good with newborns. especially the child of bokuto, who would probs be a colicky mess and just as loud and needy as her father. 

so bokuto, at his wits end juggling raising a child, college classes, and volleyball, displays the same dumbassery that netted him a child and decides to summon a fucking demon to help raise the kid. enter akaashi, an incredibly powerful demon, an elite general and strategist of satan’s army, claimer of a thousand souls, etc etc and now apparently the goddamn babysitter of a noisy whiny child and his newborn daughter. but akaashi can’t refuse a contract so he and bo agree that akaashi gets his soul if the kid survives to adulthood and turns out relatively well adjusted

which means cue ~*~ adorable coparenting shenanigans~*~~  

  • akaashi, the right hand of the dark lord, has no fucking clue what to do with children and starts reading all kinds of bizarre child rearing books
  • “agaaaashi how do I make her stop crying” “try sacrificing a goat, that always appeased me when I was a young ghoul” 
  • the baby keeps trying to put akaashi’s horns and tail in her mouth. akaashi politely asks her to stop. she don’t give a fuck. 
  • “bokuto san I believe one of my many enemies has possessed your child, as she just projectile vomited across the room in a clearly unholy way” 
  • and of course. akaashi starts growing attached to bokuto and the child
  • bokuto draws angry eyebrows on the kid’s face because lol. he almost cries when akaashi asks why there is comical pictures on instagram of “our child”
  • “c’mon baby, say ‘papa’!” “ hail satan?” “asdffhjk AGAASHII” 
  • MATCHING HALLOWEEN COSTUMES. bo dresses up as a devil, akaashi lets down his glamour so his demonic form can be seen and they dress their little girl up as an angel
  • “daddy some boy at school keeps bullying me. the teacher said it’s because he likes me” “kill him.”

So I’ve been thinking about the idea of Blue mirroring Lance in terms of hidden insecurity, and while I cannot for the life of me remember where I saw it, I saw someone on tumblr post “everyone thinks of Blue as the low standards Lion” in reference to her bio painting her as the most accepting.

And I think about that, and… what that means.

Because Blue just as much as all of the other Lions is shown to hold out for her designated paladin. She doesn’t grab Keith any of the numerous times he was there and she could’ve gone home immediately. And considering Blue is Lance’s Lion- that wasn’t a small temptation. If she’s specifically good at working with people who aren’t ideal paladin matches, if she can get along with just about anyone- every time Keith went to that cave Blue would have that temptation.

Keep reading

  • Remus: I still can't believe you all became Animagi for me.
  • James: Believe it, Remus. We're here for y- Sirius...?
  • Sirius: Mmmf- wat?
  • James: Er... should you be eating that?
  • Sirius: ...hmm?
  • Remus: Well, isn't your animagus a dog? ...Doesn't chocolate kill dogs?
  • Sirius: .....
  • *drops chocolate frog in shock*
  • James: *vague panic* I'm sure it'll be fine-
  • Sirius: AM I GOING TO DIE?
  • James: Oh here we go-
  • Sirius: REMUS, AM I GOING TO DIE??
  • Remus: I really don't think you're going to DIE, Sirius-
  • Sirius: THE ROOM
  • James: I shouldn't have even said anything-
  • Sirius: IT'S SPINNING
  • Remus: Sirius, you're overreacting-
  • Sirius: THE DARKNESS IS UPON ME
  • Sirius: THE LIGHT IS FADING
  • Sirius: WHERE ARE YOU? I CAN'T SEE YOU. JAMES, I CAN'T SEE YOU-
  • James: You're facing the wall, Sirius-
  • Sirius: OH, THE END IS NIGH, I'M WITHERING AWAY, HOW CRUEL FATE IS...
  • *Lies down on the floor*
  • Remus: ...
  • James: ...
  • Sirius: *not moving*
  • Remus: Should we -
  • James: Just leave him, we won't get any sleep tonight if we don't.
4

HELLO POLICE I’D LIKE YOU TO ARREST THIS BOY FOR BEING A FCUKING SWEETHEART AND MELTING MY HEART THAT’S NOT ALLOWED

Lies and Family Ties

Dean X Reader; Mary tells Dean that the reader cheated on him to stop him finding out about her (Mary) stealing from Ramiel.

Originally posted by soluscheese

Knocking on the door of the bunker, you shift on your heels outside of the place you used to call home. Palms sweaty, heart racing and you’re sure that you can smell the nervousness radiating from you.

The door opens, your now ex-boyfriend looking anything but jolly to see you on his doorstep. “Sorry, I already gave all my change to the homeless guy down the street.”

“I’m just here to get the rest of my stuff, then you’ll be clear of me for good.” Standing up straight, arms crossed against your chest, you hold your head up high, refusing to feel belittled by the man who tossed you away so easily.

He runs his tongue across his bottom lip arrogantly, a sarcastic smile on his face as he pulls open the door, inviting you inside begrudgingly. “Make it quick. Don’t take anything you didn’t pay for.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” you spit, striding past him angrily, the ache in your soul becoming even more prominent from being this close to Dean, yet knowing he’s no longer yours.

You pass Sam and Castiel in the kitchen, ignoring their judgemental gazes as you head to Dean’s room, to a bed that used to hold two bodies, not one.

Pushing all the memories within these walls away, you grab your suitcase from under the bed, flipping back the lid and throwing your belongings inside. You wanted to be out of this place as swiftly as you could be, your presence clearly unwanted.

“I’m surprised you had the nerve to show up here.” You look back over your shoulder, Mary leaning smugly against the door frame, your attention moving back to your suitcase. She was the reason you were packing in the first place, the lies she told Dean being the very statements to sever the ribbons of your relationship.

“Yeah? I’m surprised you’ve got the nerve to still be here.” you hiss, a bubble of laughter leaving her lips as she pushes you closer and closer to the edge, anger bubbling inside you. “Aren’t you afraid your web of lies will unravel?”

“Don’t be silly, sweetheart, my webs are perfectly crafted. My son will always believe his dear mommy over some worthless bitch.” Now it’s your turn to laugh, not a slither of humour in your tone. You skim your fingers over the white frame on the beside, the besotted couple grinning at the camera.

If someone had told you then, that just months down the line Mary would be alive and kicking, and she would be the very thing to rip your lover from your arms, you would’ve laughed in their face.

“You know what,” you spin around, your glare harsh enough to wound as you stare at the poisonous bitch in front of you. “I hope your boys never find out who you really are. It’d break them to know their mother almost killed their best friend.”

“Not only are you working for the British, but you disturbed the Prince of Hell, stole from him and then stood in silence as Castiel’s life drained from his eyes.”

Her expression turns colder as you taunt her, her lip quivering in anger, not being able to take the truth you’re dealing out. She makes her way towards you, fists clenching, as you speak aloud all the damage that she’s done. “Shut your mouth.”

You shake your head, standing up against her, refusing to cower under her wrath. “If you were my mom, I’d be wishing you’d have stayed on the ceiling.”

Smack! Your head sharply twists to the side as her hand makes contact with your cheek, smugness running through your veins with the knowledge that your words have hit home. “If you ever tell anybody about me stealing from Ramiel, I’ll cut your heart out.”

“She doesn’t need to tell me anything.” Mary jumps at the sound of the voice, your fingers rubbing your cheek, trying to soothe the sting. Dean enters the room, coming to stand by your side, his mother lost for words.

“Sweetheart, let me explain…” She trails off, the level of vexation in Dean’s eyes enough to shut her up. Her eyes move to you as you watch the scene unfold. “You little bitch-”

Dean pushes her back as she lunges for you, his broad figure standing protectively in front of your own, your heart clenching, hoping that maybe there is something left to salvage.

“I want you out of here, now. Don’t bother coming back.” Dean warns, the ice chill in his voice something you’d been faced with a few minutes before. Mary weighs up her options, before backing out of the room resentfully, a vengeful twinkle in her eyes.

Once she’s gone, you turn back to the task at hand, shoving your final few things into your suitcase, ignoring Dean’s burning stare on your back. You move around in silence, him not being brave enough to break it, and you wanting to hear an apology before anything else.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You freeze at the question, Dean’s voice timid as it should be. Throwing the shirt in your grasp onto the bed, you turn to face the older brother, not being able to believe his arrogance.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t remember you giving me a chance to say anything when you believed your mom’s bullshit lies over me.” He looks down at the floor as you scold him, your eyes beginning to glaze over with due to frustration.

“I’m sorry-” you cut him off with a scoff, his emerald eyes as glassy as your own as he lifts them upwards to meet you. You want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him, tell him that everything is forgiven and you can go back to how it used to be.

“You weren’t sorry when you kicked me out in the pouring rain and called me a dirty whore.” The dam breaks, you cursing yourself as you turn your back on Dean, your fingers roughly swiping away the fallen tears.

You zip up your suitcase, thankful you’ll be alone in a few minutes and able to sob to your hearts content without prying eyes. “What are you doing? Don’t go.”

“What does it look like I’m doing, Dean?” you sniffle, grasping the handle of the case and holding the heavy object to your side. “I want you to be happy, and if that means me leaving, then so be it.”

You shove past the older Winchester, your chin quivering as you somehow hold in your cries. You let out a shaky breath as a hand grabs your arm, Dean’s warm touch stopping you in your tracks.

“Stay. All I want is for you to stay.” he pleads, his throat thick with emotion. You turn your head, his glassy eyes meeting your own, a desperate look on his face.

After what feels like hours of silence, you make your decision. “Five minutes. Let’s see how well you do.”

A/N - Thanks for all the support on my last Dean imagine, it was incredibleeeeeeee!!! Feel free to request :) now, gif before the imagine, or after??? Let me know! X

cobains-apologies  asked:

What is an Iwaizumi Hajime?

He is an actual angel!

@amalasdraws agrees and illustrated this perfectly for me with this drawing of hers, thank you!!! <3

Fam-ILY

A/N So I said I was going to do a drabble and then I liked two particular prompts and it turned into this… thingie…

Pairing: moxiety (Morality/Anxiety) - can be read as platonic

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 980

Warnings: self-deprecating thoughts

Summary:

Virgil doesn’t like himself. Patton loves him regardless.


He stares into the mirror and his reflection frowns back. His eyeshadow is thickly applied today so, if he does decide to drag himself out of his room, the others won’t notice the dark bags sinking into his skin. His hair is a mess and he shrinks into his hoodie to compensate for this. The more things he hides about himself, the better he looks.

Virge sighs, and turns away from his own glare. It’s no secret that he isn’t exactly… fond of himself. A better description would be just ‘he hates himself’, but he never really had been as dramatic as a certain other side. It takes another minute of staring blankly at the bathroom tiles before he gives up and decides that today is just going to be one of those days where he doesn’t leave his room.

Keep reading

I think this is reading a book together? Yes? Ok. let’s do this. 

Keith’s old shack smells of wood varnish and old paper. Specks of dust shine and dance in the beams of afternoon sun, and Keith sits in the centre of his small living room surrounded by boxes. He flicks through a book and smiles fondly at the familiar faces that look up at him. 

“Hey babe! Can we donate all these crop jackets?!” Lance’s voice calls from the bedroom. 

“No!” Keith yells back.

“But they don’t even fit you anymore! And I don’t want these fashion disasters in our apartment!”

Our apartment. Keith’s heart thrums at those words. His grin blooms across his face. 

“I think I can make them fit!” He laughs. 

Soft foot falls announce Lance’s entrance into the living room. he lets out a suffering sigh. 

“Babe. Babe. Look. Babe look at this.”

Keith looks up. On the other side of the room Lance stands wearing one of his crop jackets. It reaches just barely under his pecks. The sleeves reach just under his elbow, and the seams at the shoulder look like they’ll burt. 

“There’s no way you can wear these anymore.” He deadpans. 

“I’m smaller than you. Not my fault you got insanely ripped.”

“Keith! You’re not 16 anymore!” Lance implores. “And your biceps are way bigger than mine.” To prove it to him, Lance runs up behind Keith and grabs his shoulders. He gently sways them from side to side and runs his hands admiringly up and down his boyfriend’s arms. 

“Bench press me, baby. I know you can.”

“Laaaaance,” Keith laughs. Lance chuckles and leans forward. His arms wrap around Keith’s neck and he rests his chin on top of his head. His long legs slot next to Keith’s easily. 

“Is it weird being back here?” Lance asks quietly. Keith leans into Lance’s chest. 

“Yeah….” He sighs. “But it’s nice… being here with you. Getting that sense of closure, you know?”

“Yeah. It’s nice to…” Lance looks down and spies the book in Keith’s lap. He freezes. 

“Nooooo way.” He whispers. He moves to look over Keith’s shoulder, and his arms tuck under Keith’s. He reaches forward and takes the book from Keith’s hands, flicking it closed and staring at the cover.

Garrison 2063 Yearbook 

“Holy shit…” Lance whispers. Keith chuckles and it rumbles against him. 

“I know, right? I found it while packing.”

“We have to keep this.”

“Absolutely.” Keith smiles. “Here wanna see something crazy?” He excitedly flicks to a page. A small photo of Pidge looks up at them. Hair cut short. Glasses comically big on her small face. 

“OOOOHHHHHH my god.” Lance squeals gleefully. “WHAT A TINY BABY.”

Keith giggles. “Remember how you thought she was a boy?”

“Look at this photo! You can’t blame me! Look at this tiny androgynous child.” They both laugh. Lance’s muscular forearms wrap and squeeze around his boyfriend’s stomach. 

“There’s also this.” Keith holds up a new page. Hunk’s 17 year old face beams up at them. There’s the mature eyes that Keith and Lance are used to, but there are traces of baby fat around his jaw. His trademark orange headband is also much brighter than either of them remember it being. Years of sweat, sun and being blown into space have since turned his headband almost a pastel colour. 

“Was Hunk ever small?”

“As someone who’s known him since we were 10…” Lance pauses. “No.” He laughs. “Dude could pick up most of our teachers from the time he was 12. I know this because I dared him to.”

Keith shakes his head. 

“I don’t doubt it.”

They continue to flip through pages. Some faces they barely recognise, others have been completely lost to time. They reach the staff pages and Keith and Lance proceed to flip off Iverson and the other instructors that expelled Keith. 

There’s a sharp intake of breath.

In the staff section, smiling up with a handsome face and beautiful dark hair is Shiro. Both of his arms are clearly visible, and there’s no scar marking his face. His eyes gleam with youthful optimism. Guilt churns in Keith’s stomach.

“God…” He deflates. “He looks so young.”

Lance squeezes him tightly. 

“He certainly… has changed.” He presses a kiss to Keith’s temple and brushes his fingers along a scar that courses through his eyebrow. Keith looks down to see Lance’s prosthetic foot nudging his thigh. 

“But so have we.” Lance smiles. “We’re all ok. Shirt’s ok now. And while things were hard…” He presses another quick kiss to Keith’s cheek. “I wouldn’t change anything.”

Keith turns his head towards his boyfriend. His mouth quirks into a grin and he presses a smiling kiss to Lance’s lips. 

“Me neither.” 

“Also…” Lance smirks. His hands hurriedly flick through the pages until he barks out a laugh.

“Can you PLEASE admit that you had a fucking mullet?” He cackles. Keith looks down at the photo and groans loudly.

“Oh my god, look at this child.” He sighs. “Why is he so moody?!” He yells at his 16 year old self. 

“You stupid boy, you don’t even know you’re an alien yet! No one’s shooting at you! Your life is great!” Keith yells. Lance howls with laughter behind him. 

“I think he’s mad…” Lance wheezes, “Because he’s super fucking gay for this handsome boy here…” Lance points at the photo of his teenager self, “But this boy thinks he’s an asshole.” 

Keith coos at the photo of Lance. He brings the book closer to his face and smiles dopily. 

“God you were cute.”

“Were?” Lance blusters. 

Keith hums. He rotates and leans into Lance’s chest. A low chuckle escapes him. 

“You’ve become the hottest and most handsome person in the universe.” He runs his hands across Lance’s broad chest. 

“And I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The yearbook lies forgotten on the floor as Lance leans down to languidly kiss Keith until the afternoon sun slips into the horizon.