look at her hands in his hair

anonymous asked:

People always talk about Harry comforting a crying missus after a stressful day so what about if Harry came home crying after a stressful day and the missus comforted him?

She can see it before he shows it.

The way his eyes are a little bloodshot and red-rimmed, sore-looking and like they needed a proper sleep to remove that ache. Pupils dilated with emotion and the green emerald of his eyes looking darker and empty as he refused eye contact with her. Toeing off his boots and keeping his eyes on the ground as he nudged them straighter with his toe. 

The way the underside of his nose looked a little damp and like he’d had a snotty nose, a little red in some areas like he’d rubbed at the skin with the callouses of his fingers or with the roughness of a tissue that came with the studio room he’d booked out for the day. Sniffles come from him, the tip of his nose scrunching up and wiggling around as he pushed a hand through his hair, pushing it from his face rather than blowing it away - which had become a habit over the last few weeks whilst his fringe grew back and curled around his forehead. 

The way his cheeks looked red and shone underneath the light of the hallway. Glistening and glowing but in a way that had no good intentions behind it; in a way that made him look broken and in pain and in need of anything to distract him from whatever was bothering his mind. 

And a distraction is all she could give him. In the form of a tight hug and a couple of kisses to his stinging cheeks. One being pressed to his chin before she cosied her face into his neck and took deep inhales of what his skin had leaking; a musky scent of Tom Ford, the slight damp scent of sweat that had built up in the folds of his skin, and the distinct aroma of rain that he’d gotten caught in on his way from the car to the studio entrance.

It’s when he finds comfort with her, with his chin resting on her head, that he begins to sob. Bottom lip wobbling and making his chin shake, eyes bubbling with tears before they leaked down his porcelain skin, nose flaring as he tried his best to keep his emotions at bay. Until he was at least alone in the shower he planned to take before dinner. His chest heaving heavily, making it difficult for him to catch his breath, grasping tightly onto her arms as she tried to make a bee-line to the kitchen cupboard that held his inhaler. 

“Harry, baby, you need it. Let me grab it. You’re okay,” she coos, brushing her fingers over his wet cheeks, “you need your inhaler. Come on. You’re going to be okay, I promise.”

With the inhaler in her hand, and once she’d settled him down on the bottom step of the stairs, he collapses onto her legs and buries his face into her thighs, letting the new puffs of hair calm him down and bring him back to a state of normality. Where he wasn’t panicking or freaking out. Losing his breath and finding it hard to regain a steady rhythm. Holding her knees to his chest as he let his moist cheeks dampen the thin material of her blue jeans, leaving darker spots behind on the denim. 

“Whatever happened, whatever made you this way, you know you can tell me,” she whispers, uncomfortably perched on a step just a few from his figure, running her fingers through his hair as he sniffed and brought his wrist to wipe his nose, “we all have rough days. We all go about them in different ways. But you know that if you ever need to talk about it, or vent, or yell, you can use me to get that out. Okay?”

“S’just one o’ those days,” he murmurs with a deep rasp after a gentle pause, his head lifting up and allowing the missus to see his broken face. Green eyes no longer bright and full of life. Cheeks no longer holder the gentle rose colour and sporting a rather vicious red. Lips wobbling and no longer curled into the gorgeous smile she loved. “Things just didn’t go to plan. Pissed off everyone at the studio because I couldn’t get a single thing out. No words would come from my head. I had a block. Jeffrey got pissed off. Mitch actually stormed out and won’t answer my calls. Jeff actually thought I was backtracking and losing my spark. They think I’m getting shitter!” He cries, clenched hand colliding with the step beside her thigh. “To make matters so much worse, there are more rumours coming out about me. About you. Thinking I’m cheating or with some other woman. When I’m not. And the paparazzi followed me to my car, to the shop to get lunch, to the cafe to get coffee. They wouldn’t leave me alone,” he hiccuped, his cries not seeming to subside anytime soon, “I can’t do it anymore. I’m not cut out to be under pressure all the time.”

And all she can do, without making things worse with her words, is wipe away the built-up tears that lingered his eyelids and press a kiss to his forehead. Burying her nose into his hair and sighing softly as she let him cry and cry and cry until he was completely dry of tears and his throat hurt from the sobs. xx

baedrien-agreste  asked:

Ladrien "I thought I lost you"

I saw this prompt and decided to do a continuation from the Ladrien prompt I wrote earlier today. Hope you enjoy it, @baedrien-agreste ! <3


“I thought I lost you,” Ladybug murmured, her head resting against Adrien’s chest. Her fingers traced the outline of the Gabriel logo on his shirt.

“I tried to look for you a few times,” he said, running his hand over her hair. “But all of our usual meet-up places weren’t exactly accessible without my transformation.”

Ladybug sat up. “We have to convince your father to give you your ring back.”

“Good luck with that,” he grimaced. “Believe me, I’ve fought with him every day about it. He thinks he’s keeping me safe.”

“Surely this will change his mind though. You could’ve died today.” She shivered and resumed her position against his chest. “If you had your ring, it wouldn’t have been such a close call.”

“I know.” He tightened his arms around her. “You really missed me?”

“Of course I missed you, silly kitty,” she teased. “You’re my best friend. If I had known…I’ve been terrified something happened to you. How would I ever really know? I…I even looked up death announcements but no one matched your description, not that I was totally sure what I was looking for…”

“Oh, my Lady…”

“And it wouldn’t have been so bad if I had only known. I even just saw you yesterday!” She sat up again in a frantic motion and took a deep breath to calm herself. “That’s why I need to show you who I am…and…and honestly, I’m a little nervous, but this is important.”

Adrien straightened up too and took her hands, nodding, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Tikki, spots off.” Marinette bit her lip and looked up at him through a fringe of hair.

“Hi, Mari,” he said softly.

“Hi, Adrien.”


Prompt List :)

Buy Me a Coffee? <3

Good Morning, Best Morning

I am just really in the mood for more Malec fluff… So I wrote more…

There may be another version of this posted at a later time…

THANK YOU TO MY LOVELY PARABETA @sfjessii I promise you, she is amazing and helps me more than she knows! Thank you, dearest! <3 

Read it her on ao3: Good Morning, Best Morning



Alec is enjoying the gentle lips caressing over his abs, working their way over as much of Alec as they can, and honestly, there are few better ways to start a morning, in his opinion.

He looks down into the eyes of his boyfriend, the love of his life, and can’t help but smile, especially as Magnus runs his fingers along his sides, caressing, no, treasuring Alec’s skin. He lets out a content sigh and one of his hands makes it’s way to curl into the loose strands of Magnus’ hair.

Magnus’ lips make it back to where they initially began upon waking up, Alec’s lips. Soft and so kiss starved. Magnus takes in Alec’s lower lip before taking over his top, then he deepens the kiss, his fingers moving to caress Alec’s jaw, gently, his fingers relishing in morning scruff beneath them. “Mmmm… Good Morning.” He whispers against Alec’s lips.

Keep reading

This Writer’s Guild event prompt was: take your inspiration from an 80s movie. I guess this kind of started with me picking Labyrinth but it spiralled from there and really has nothing to do with the movie—I just wanted to imagine Steve dressed as Jareth. It also wouldn’t have gotten written without @stevemossington and her unique brand of “optimism” 


Halloween 1987

I.
“What kind of magic spell to use?” Steve sung aloud, slightly off-key, as he stared at himself in the mirror and carefully teased his hair. With pride, he had been working on growing it out since last June when Jonathan had taken him to see Labyrinth and he had immediately known Jareth would make for a killer Halloween costume— one that would do more than just slightly impress his often grumpy boyfriend. Receiving no response to his song, Steve paused with the comb in his hand and looked expectantly back at Jonathan, who was reclining on the bed and dressed in his usual dark clothing, albeit somewhat baggier than usual. Jonathan returned his gaze with nonchalance. 

“I know you know the words,” Steve teasingly urged, “Come on.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jonathan shrugged, continuing after a beat of silence, “Who are you supposed to be again?” Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed, playing at hurt, before he went back to teasing his hair. He knew Jonathan was screwing around with him, and two could play at that game. Adding a final spritz of hairspray to the pieces of hair swept across his forehead, Steve gave himself a once-over in the mirror and smiled—he may not have had Bowie’s cheekbones, but he was still impressed with his reflection. Dramatically, Steve strode over to the bed and struck a pose, gesturing towards his legs, tightly clad in grey.

“Do these pants make my butt look good?” Steve wiggled his eyebrows and Jonathan groaned, shoving Steve’s body out of his face with feigned annoyance. Yes, Steve’s butt looked absolutely fantastic—and he had totally nailed the entire look—but Jonathan wasn’t about to admit it.

“Of course they do,” Nancy cut in as she entered the room, adjusting a large hat over her hair, now gathered in a low, loose ponytail. Mike had convinced her to dress as Indiana Jones, even lending her the collector’s edition hat he protected so carefully the last time they had been in Hawkins. Nancy would have never admitted it aloud, especially to her teenaged brother, but it fondly reminded her of the days she had dressed up as an elf princess for Mike’s campaigns. “And you look good too, Jon,” Nancy continued, smirking in his direction as she readjusted the buttons on her coat, taking over the spot in front of the bedroom mirror.

“He looks exactly the same as he always does,” Steve pointed out, playfully tousling Jonathan’s hair as he flopped onto the bed next to him.

“Exactly,” Nancy grinned. Stepping away from the mirror, she began rummaging around the top of their cluttered dresser for a moment before holding out a long strip of black cloth. Jonathan semi-begrudgingly took it from her and tied it around his head while Nancy clapped and Steve whistled suggestively. Jonathan felt his cheeks turn red and had to keep himself from rolling his eyes too hard. He had never been one for Halloween—too many disappointing evenings in his childhood while his mother had been at work and his father had been too drunk to take him trick-or-treating. This year, Jonathan had been convinced, would be no different. That was until they had gone to see The Princess Bride two weeks earlier. Nancy, after a fair amount of coaxing, had cut up one of her old black t-shirts into a mask and insisted that dressing up as Westley hardly constituted effort. Jonathan relented and played along, mostly because he knew how much Nancy and Steve adored Halloween—or how much they used to.

The three had forgone celebrated October 31st for the past two years, the horrific memories of ‘84 still too fresh. But now, living in a different city, things had changed. Sure, they spent their summers endlessly driving down dirt roads to dreary little towns, but the city was something else. It had always been a place without mystery and, more importantly, without monsters—at least, not of the interdimensional variety. This year Steve had convinced them to attend a party at the bar he worked on weekends; “free drinks,” he had boasted, “and a reserved table—so Byers doesn’t have to scare us with his dance moves.” Nancy had been more eager than Jonathan, though she kept quiet about the extra assurance she needed on this particular night of the year. Tucked subtly into one of her tall tan boots was a small but sharp kitchen knife; tucked into the other was the pack of matches she always kept somewhere on her person.

“Shall we?” Steve asked, pulling a mini-chocolate bar from the nightstand and popping it into his mouth before he offered a hand to each Nancy and Jonathan.


Keep reading

Learning to Grow

Title: Learning to Grow

for @dadrunkwriting

Prompt from @galadrieljones and @ladylike-foxes

Pairing: Isera Lavellan x Solas

Rating: General


She was kneeling in the dirt with two of the school children on either side of her. Isera was showing them how to plant the seeds deep enough and cover them over with the dirt. Solas watched as the children giggled and sunk their tiny hands into the dirt. Isera smiled at them warmly and showered them with praises at their work.

Solas couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She had dirt smudged on her nose and her cheeks. Her red hair was desperately trying to escape from the braid and bun she had it pulled back in. The sunlight illuminated the stray hairs like a halo of gold around her head.

Right then she looked more divine than any who had ever claimed to be.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Isera’s voice broke through his thoughts.

Solas looked and saw that she was walking towards him now, smiling. She used her apron to wipe the dirt off on her hands. He smiled back and moved to her.

“Gardening has never been a forte of mine.” Solas said with a laugh, “I would not like to impede the learning of the children.”

“Then perhaps you should come and learn too.” Isera grinned. She reached out took his hand and pulled him towards the garden. Solas smiled at the warmth of her hand and the feeling of dirt on her callous fingers.

Isera directed him to spot and handed him a small jar of seeds. They were tiny. Solas shook the jar slightly as he looked at them.

“These are carrot seeds.” Isera said. “First you need to dig a small hole, barely bigger than your finger.” She demonstrated by pushing her index finger into the loose dirt up to the middle of her finger. “Not too deep, but about an inch or two.” Then she took the jar back from him and gently shook out one seed. She place the tiny seed at the bottom of the hole and then used both of her hands to push the dirt back over top of it.

“That is all?” Solas asked with a laugh.

“Well, for now it is.” Isera smiled. “Then comes the tending. That’s always the part that takes more time.”

Solas smiled at her and he watched as the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled back.

“Now it’s your turn.” She said and passed the jar back to him.

Solas went to dig right next to the seed Isera had planted but she stilled his hand with hers.

“Not too close. They need space to grow. About a hand’s length apart.” She said.

“My hands are much bigger than yours.” Solas chuckled as he lifted her hand to kiss the knuckles.

Isera blushed at the affection and took her hand away to brush some hair out of her face.  “You know what I mean.” She said softly.

Solas chuckled at her shyness and moved just a bit farther over. “Is here good?”

“Perfect.” Isera smiled. Solas felt his own ears warm. She seemed to be talking about more than the spot he chose.

He turned back to the garden as he sunk his finger into the soil, feeling the coolness of the earth surround it. Isera handed him a tiny seed as he pulled his finger out. He dropped it into the hole, it’s light colour stark against the black earth.

“Now you cover it up.” Isera said softly near his ear.

Solas put both hands onto the dirt and pulled it over the small hole he’d made. The feel of the dirt on his hands was an unfamiliar one. But one that gave him a feeling of rightness in the world. He patted the small mound of dirt as he had watched Isera do.

“Now what?” He asked as he turned to her.

Isera smiled and hooked an arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Now we wait.”

The sound of shouting could be heard by those who had arrived to the rally early. Outside the community centre stood the one and only Alaine, a handful of her most trusted followers standing behind her of varying appearance: a man with dark hair in skin tight clothing; the girl with purple hair that greeted many attendees last week; an older woman with scar tissue covering half her face; one of the androgynous twins that had held open the doors of the community centre like it was their destiny to do so. Alaine was arguing with an older man who looked uncomfortable in the face of a walking controversy, as he held his hands up defensively. Held under one arm against his side was a crumpled letter and yet despite his apprehension, he stood firm and solid where he was, not backing down from the angry Alaine. As she took a breath to continue her argument, the man spoke over her, clearly tired of discussing the same thing.

“I apologize Miss Blanchefleur, I am aware we had an arrangement for you to use the hall, but the council has listed you as banned as of this morning! There is nothing I can do: your ‘rally’ or whatever you’re calling it, cannot be held here today.”

Alaine looked unimpressed at his argument yet recoiled, leaning away from him as she folded her arms over her chest. A rather saucy look graced her features and she replied, “I was aware the ‘council’ was under policy to inform the people they have ‘banned’ from entering the community centre. I am a member of the community, so I should have at least been given a ‘heads up’.” 

The man nodded, “You should have, yes. But I can’t help that now. Legally, I cannot let you into the centre as it stands. You are welcome to discuss the matter with the council, but right no–”

“Right. The council full of fools that despise me because I don’t believe in their little fairy tales. You know that contacting them would result in nothing more than a larger headache…” Alaine spoke, sounding annoyed yet defeated in a way. Her gaze strayed from the man to the approaching citizens, likely arriving for her, now ruined, rally. Tapping her foot once, the leader then turned around and faced her close circle. Speaking quietly, she confirmed that they understood what she was asking before exchanging nods, and turning once more to approach those who were approaching or had otherwise stood nearby to listen in on the loud conversation.

“Welcome, everyone. Unfortunately, we seem to have a bit of a problem regarding our meeting place. The council that runs the community centre has decided to ban me from the premises in an attempt to stop our rallies. This, of course, is far more underhanded than I expected. Fear not, for we will be moving our rally to another location – I do invite you all to head to our new location. We apologize for the inconvenience, of course…”

Alaine smiled then, seeming much more innocent than she was. It was stunning, the way she could hold the attention of multiple persons so well that they weren’t even distracted by their phones or the noises from the street nearby. She then drew a hand up to gesture towards the nearest subway station, “if you would like the quickest route, it’d be best to take the subway to the Rue Noir Station. If you enter the underground mall area, you’ll be able to follow our volunteers to an open location we can use… again, we’re very sorry for the inconvenience.” 

With that, Alaine bowed politely to those who had shown up, before the taller male in skin-tight clothing approached and escorted her off to her waiting car. He smiled at the prospects as well and then winked briefly, brilliant violet-esque eyes practically sparkling in the sunlight. While he seemed to be acting professional, his state of dress resembled more of a ‘bad boy’ exterior than anything. However, he lingered only a moment before helping Alaine into the car and moving to the passenger seat. Hopping in, once the door closed the two were off with their driver, headed for the new location. Some of the arrivals decided that they may as well move to the new location, although the idea of visiting the rundown district that remained underground was somewhat daunting. Some chose to leave, annoyed and not seeing the rally as worth it to travel all the way downtown for. 

Keep reading

This is how he falls:

With a crack, the very first time he steps onto the ice. Yuuri breaks his glasses, breaks his fingernails, breaks open the skin on his palms and his knees and he bleeds, he bleeds, he bleeds. Takeshi laughs at chubby, clumsy Yuuri—graceless, good-for-nothing, and Yuuri believes him.

But the next day at Minako’s urging, Yuuri gets right back on that ice, and Takeshi doesn’t laugh.

Yuuko is beautiful with her red hair and her kind eyes and she doesn’t call Yuuri names. She smiles and holds out her hands to him, helps him onto his feet on her parents’ rink, and Yuuri finds love there, though never with her. He finds a home there, though it isn’t his to claim. 

(He will make it his every day for the rest of his life, regardless.)

He finds his inspiration in front of a grainy television screen when he turns twelve, and even the fuzz in the picture could not make Victor Nikiforov look less beautiful, less ephemeral, less exquisite. 

Look at me, says his silver hair. Look at me, says the gleam of his costume. Look at me, says the sorrowful reach of his hands, and Yuuri has never stopped looking since.

Look at me, Yuuri thinks as he takes of his glasses and skates onto the ice blind. Look at me, he decides that day, and knows that he’ll do anything, everything to stand before Victor Nikiforov and say look at me in person.

He emulates Victor. He worships Victor. Yuuri begs until his family bends and buys him a poodle, soft and brown in his arms, and Yuuri names him after his hero. It’s common sense, Yuuri thinks, to take this feeling and make it something tangible, something real. Vicchan can love Yuuri back. Vicchan is never disappointed. With Vicchan, Yuuri doesn’t have to feel the loneliness that Victor’s endless absence has carved in his young life.

Yuuri stands under the lights, in front of the judges for the first time at fourteen and feels clumsy and boring, but he takes home a silver. It’s not as beautiful as Victor, but it’ll do, even if he can’t quite see it through the blur of his naked eyes. He works himself up vibrant color, to costumes made custom, to junior gold medals, to high school entrance exams and college applications. He dedicates himself to diets and exercise, chasing a dream of a man in pictures, the years of a life less lived plastered on his bedroom walls.

He doesn’t take them with him to Detroit, but he may as well have. Victor’s shadow follows him there, hovering over his head and in his heart, that voice from online interviews as saccharine sweet in his ears as Yuuko’s  I’m pregnant, Yuuri, I’m having triplets, will you be the godfather, Yuuri? What do you mean you’re leaving?

Yuuri leaves home at eighteen and the guilt of it eats him alive.

He meets Celestino Cialdini. He meets Phichit Chulanont. Yuuri makes himself into a whirlwind and withdraws into his shell with one goal in mind. He falls during his jumps. He falls during his choreography sequence. Yuuri falls and falls again, even as others fall for him, and they fall as he stumbles away—broken and bleeding, licking his wounds and nursing his pride and hiding his selfish love for a man who has no idea that Yuuri breathes him, lives for him. 

It’s alone in a bathroom in Sochi that Yuuri realizes he’s lived for Victor one day too long, and Vicchan is gone. 

Yuuri doesn’t remember his free skate. He doesn’t remember crying. He only vaguely remembers Yuri Plisetsky yelling in his face, fifteen and red-cheeked and fire-eyed and selfish. He’s young. He’s dumb. And somehow he has Victor Nikiforov’s undivided attention, somehow Yuri Plisetsky has a Junior Grand Prix Gold, somehow he has everything, and Yuuri—

—Yuuri has nothing. Certainly not a commemorative photo with the man who couldn’t be bothered to learn Yuuri’s name.

So Yuuri falls. He falls and falls and he cries for two days straight in his hotel room. He barely eats, hardly sleeps, and by the time he makes it to the victory banquet, he’s a mess. He’s fractured, fumbling, falling apart, and by glass fifteen of champagne, somehow confronting Victor seems like a good idea.

He ends up facing down his fears instead.

Yuuri doesn’t remember that night. He doesn’t remember warm hards, a shining smile, bright eyes. He doesn’t remember holding Victor in his arms, swinging him and dipping him, laughing into his personal space and stripping his way out of it. He won’t remember Christophe Giacometti’s fabulous abs in the morning, and he won’t remember Victor holding out his arms toward Yuuri as he climbs down from the pole.

He doesn’t remember any of it, but maybe that’s for the best.

But what he does remember are the echoing notes of a lovelorn ballad and the way it ripped his heart out. Yuuri remembers a life that feels like a dream and the beauty of a dance. He goes home to a place that has known Yuuri’s saddest days if not his darkest, and though he feels alone, it takes friends and a family to make him realize that he has never been alone.

Yuuri skates a song that is not his, but answers a plea that could never be for anyone else.

A thousand miles away, Victor opens a video link, and this is how he falls.

companion to this

The telltale Marauder’s Map

Imagine Harry dragging the Marauder’s Map everywhere with him, just so he can keep an eye on Malfoy at all times. (Yeah okay, you don’t really have to imagine this part, because it happened.) Ron and Hermione are so fed up with him, because Harry is so absorbed in his map, they can’t even have a normal conversation with him.

The only time Harry isn’t staring at the map, is when his eyes are fixed on the actual Malfoy, walking past him. Hermione jumps at the chance and grabs the map. She’s not planning on hiding it or anything. She knows all too well she would never get away with it. Harry would probably even threaten to hex her if she didn’t give it back. She instead doodles something on it and grins, when the little heart she made around Malfoy’s dot sticks and moves along with it.

As soon as Malfoy is out of sight, Harry’s gaze wanders back to the map.

“Guys, I really think he’s up to- What is that?” Harry exclaims. Ron looks over his shoulder and snickers.

“Well, I think Hermione nailed it, mate.”

After that, Harry blushes every time he looks at the map. He’s so flustered, he doesn’t even realize the heart-framed dot is approaching him rapidly, even though he’s staring at it.

“What is it with you lately, Potter?” Malfoy drawls, startling Harry. He’s standing right in front of him and Harry is so surprised, he’s too slow to react when Malfoy grabs the Marauder’s Map out of his fingers. “Are you turning into a bookworm? Wherever you go, your nose is always buried in… some… parchment…”

Malfoy frowns as he looks at the map.

“What is this?”

Harry doesn’t answer. He’s beginning to sweat and his heart is beating rapidly.

“Give it back, Malfoy,” he grumbles and snatches it from him.

But judging from Malfoy’s incredulous look, he already saw… it. Bloody hell! Why did Hermione have to do that?

“Dear Merlin, what are you, Potter, five?” Malfoy sneers. But it hasn’t escaped Harry that his cheeks have turned pink and his voice is a bit shaky.

“Would you rather I kissed your dot goodnight before I go to sleep?” Harry counters. But… wait…

Malfoy opens his mouth, but doesn’t say anything. He just stares at Harry.

“Wow, um… I really don’t know why I said that,” Harry murmurs sheepishly.

“Do you do that?” Malfoy asks in a high-pitched voice.

“No?” Harry doesn’t know why his answer sounds like a question, because it’s the truth. He has never done that, nor would he ever do it.

Okay, so he stared at the heart-framed dot, wondering if Hermione might actually be on to something. Maybe he even imagined what Malfoy’s hair would feel like if he ran his hands through it, what Malfoy would do if Harry pushed him against a wall, what his lips would feel like on Harry’s, what sounds he would make while Harry sucked on his neck…

They stare at each other some more until a sound at the end of the corridor startles them. Malfoy looks over his shoulder and when his eyes land on Harry again, his expression is determined. He grabs Harry’s arm and drags him into the next broom closet.

Originally posted by nerdreamer

“I like the clock,” he said, pointing up at it. “There’s a legend about that clock.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “For a second, when it chimes the hour, the gates to Heaven open.” Livvy sighed; a rare wistfulness flashed across her face. “As far as I’m concerned, Heaven is just the Institute being ours again. And all of us going home.”

(Later)

But the soul, the spirit that made her Livvy was no longer there: It was something that had gone away to a far and untouchable place, even as Julian ran his hands over her hair again and again and begged her to wake up and look at him just one more time.
High above the Council Hall, the golden clock began to chime the hour.

The video is simply just so beautiful it leaves me breathless. It’s beautifully made and beautifully filmed. The aesthetic in this video is insane and completely breath-taking. 

But like all those cute, tender moments the video focus on in the relationship: the way Shawn holds her hand so tightly. The way he kisses the top of her head so lovingly. The way his arms slips around her body teasingly yet so warmly. The way he looks at her with a loss of words because she’s just that beautiful to him. The way he always holds out his hand for her to take, holds out his hand to make sure she’s always there with him. The way his fingers wraps into her hair. The way he pulls her closer to his chest simply just because he can. 

I love how they showed this relationship so loving and warm but also so fun and easy and free. The scenes where they are running and laughing and biking around, almost acting like kids not caring about anything else in that exact moment than enjoying being young and in love with. 

I’m in love with the idea of a relationship like that. I’m in love with the idea of it being them against the world no matter what people say or think. Like in a crowd full of people, his eyes are still drawn directly to her. It’s not even his own choice, it just happens. He always just finds her. He doesn’t even know how, but his eyes will always catch her first. 

I’m in love with the idea of them creating their own little crazy world and their own little spontaneous adventures late at night at the Eiffel tower or running around the empty streets and dancing with each other at midnight, just because they feel like it. Just because they feel like being free and act a little crazy with each other, because that is how they make each other feel inside. 

I’m in love with the idea that a simple car ride or a boat trip or a train journey or drinking coffee, can be such a loving and intimate moment to share between them, simply because they’re sharing it together. I’m in love with the fact that those everyday things turns into just as much of an adventure, because they want it to be. 

I’m in love with the idea of the relationship they’re showing in this video. A perfect mix between being wrapped into their own little safe world and taking on the world together because they can, because they feel like it. This video is just beautiful. That’s all there is to say. 

And just thinking about this might be how Shawn imagines his relationship to be when he’s touring, it just makes my heart melt. Thinking about how this might just be how he pictures it; bringing her along on adventures, having her support him and dance her heart out at his shows, but also escaping the world entirely and just be the two of them in piece. This is beautiful.

okay dokes time for an aftg headcanon

  • neil gets really down about looking like his father. some days it’s better than others but he begins trying his hardest to avoid mirrors.
  • renee suggests dying his hair to break his hangups with his image and buys all the dye she can get her hands on. 
  • neil goes purple. as in lilac and looks like a tru cutie.
  • it helps tremendously. the whole team comment on the smile neil gets when he passes the locker room mirror. even aaron notices the difference.
  • but other teams and the press rip into him for it. there are countless articles about how silly he looks. how neil has lost his appeal (as if). and he begins to feel stupid. he tells andrew this one night before they go to sleep and andrew rolls his eyes. 
  • ‘why do you care? you look stupid either way’ so neil starts thinking about dying it back. 
  • but one day, shortly after, andrew turns up late to practice with his bleach blonde hair dyed baby pink.
  • neil dIES.
  • like d i e s. 
  • the rest of the team die along side him.
  • andrew shoots daggers at anyone that dares to question him on it.
  • later that night when neil and andrew are lying in bed being not boyfriends.
  • neil puts his hand in andrew’s hair and says ‘thank you’ and andrew just glares.
  • ‘it wasn’t for you.’
  • ‘mhmmm’ neil smirks and andrew looks like he wants to murder him.
  • ‘pink suits you’ neil says with the biggest puppy dog eyes.
  • and the faintest hint (the faintest) of a smile surfaces on andrews face.
  • they continue being pink and purple haired cuties for a few weeks before neil comes home with the biggest grin and shouts ‘andrew, andrew how do you feel about matching orange???’.
Dirty Dancing

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Hoseok (J-Hope)

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: 5,242

Summary:  It’s the summer and all you want to be doing is hanging out with your friends. Your parents have other ideas and when you end up at a resort in the middle of the mountains, the only bright thing in sight is the dance instructor, Hoseok. If only said dance instructor didn’t seem to completely hate you.

Originally posted by jimins-bunss

Keep reading

4

     The exile knight looked from Dany to her brother; she barefoot, with dirt between her toes and oil in her hair, he with his silks and steel. Dany could see the decision on his face.
     “He shall walk, Khaleesi,” he said. He took her brother’s horse in hand while Dany remounted her silver. Viserys gaped at him, and sat down in the dirt. He kept his silence, but he would not move, and his eyes were full of poison as they rode away.

– Daenerys III, A Game of Thrones 

i love all the headcanons with ryan with dyed hair (usually from blonde to black) especially because i get a lot of joy in considering that ryan probably does his first couple dye jobs himself and it goes horrifically

and so maybe after a heist everybody’s split up looking for places to hide because the streets are crawling with cops, and ryan ducks into a random building and comes face to face with a tiny, annoyed looking girl with her hands on her hips who doesn’t care that she’s standing in front of a huge, menacing, blood-spattered dude wearing a skull mask, and she’s like, “if you’re not here for business, you gotta get out.”

and ryan’s like, “look, i just need to hang here for a few minutes–”

“if you’re not buying anything, you better get out of my salon.”

and finally ryan sighs heavily through his nose and pulls his skull mask off to try to reason with the girl, except the girl takes one look at his shitty dye job and split ends and blood matted hair and is like, “what the fuck did you do to yourself”

and now ryan’s sort of sheepish, “it’s not– c’mon, it’s not that bad–” except the girl is already shepherding him into a chair and pulling a brush through his hair.

poor ryan is wincing and flinching and swearing until the girl snaps, “stop being a baby,” and he huffs but obediently stays still, and his scalp hurts like a mf once she’s done but he allows her to lead him to a shampooing station and she’s massaging his scalp and, well. actually, this is kind of nice.

the others in the crew finally manage to track him down and burst into the salon to find ryan with foil in his hair chatting idly with the girl and ryan has zero shame.

his hair looks amazing when it’s done, for the record

We Are Young: Chapter 5

Throne of Glass High School AU

Summary: Senior Rowan Whitethorn is new to town. It doesn’t take him long to get use to a new school, make new friends, even join the local hockey team. But it also doesn’t take him long to meet sophomore and figure skater Aelin Galathynius. And it doesn’t take him long to realize one thing; he can’t stand her.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 

——————–

Where’s my bra?

That was the only thought running through Aelin’s head as she stood there, in the middle of Rowan’s bedroom. With Rowan sitting in his bed, shirtless.

Obviously there were more important matters at hand.

An eerie silence draped over the room. Neither one of them spoke, neither one of them even knew what to say. And, if she was being honest, Aelin was half afraid that if she opened her mouth, she may actually be sick.

She tried to work around the fog that laced her memoires. She tried to think of what the hell happened last night. More importantly, how she came to be standing before Rowan in just her underwear. But she was coming up empty. Everything was a big drunken blur. The last thing she remembered was her and Fenrys kicking Dorian and Manon’s asses at beer pong - and even that was fuzzy.

Where’s my bra? And pants.

Keep reading

Call Me Kitten | Jimin

Originally posted by yoonmin

Genre:  Fluff |  Hybrid!AU

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: None

Word count: 1259

A/N: Long time, no post, huh? But here we are, I honestly don’t know what this is, but I hope you like anyway! 


Tilting your head slightly, you peered down at the shy hybrid, the sleeves of his over-sized sweater pulled over his small hands, his eyes soft and curious as he stared right back at you. His gaze melted you to your knees as his tail curled around his waist, ears curiously twitching among his soft locks of hair.

“So… this particular cat hybrid is named Jimin, feel free to look him over, whatever you need…” The employee stated in a rather monotone, bored tone, her nails seemingly miles more interesting than a potential adoption taking place.

“Sure, thanks…” You nodded politely, your gaze quickly drawn back to the hybrid in front of you, his legs crossed neatly as he perched on a slightly worn out pillow, his stare never leaving you as his mouth lay cracked open ever so slightly in complete fascination at you.

The employee sighed exasperatedly as she sauntered out, as you shook your head with a gentle smile, cautiously walking over and kneeling beside Jimin, observing his timid posture, his hands resting under his chin as he continued to stare quietly.

“Hello…” You finally spoke in a gentle tone, a hint of fascination laced in your voice as you stared at his effortless beauty, the way his blonde locks occasionally slipped down over his eyes, those eyes that held such an inquisitive look in them, his plump lips curled into an adorably irresistible pout as he blinked innocently at you.

“Hi… I’m Jimin,” he finally spoke, his slight nerves showing in his shaky voice. He hadn’t recalled being so nervous before; he was usually known as one of the more playful kittens, a bright smile always gracing his features. But, he was worried. Worried that you wouldn’t like him, that you would go adopt another hybrid instead, when he felt strangely drawn to you, and he knew he wanted you.

You hesitantly reached out to touch his ears, cupping them as you began to gently stroke and rub the soft fur, eliciting a quiet purr from his throat, his head leaning forward into your touch, and in that moment, you knew this was the hybrid you had to take home.

**

You fished through your bag for the keys to your apartment, Jimin standing behind you and shifting from foot to foot as he stared around the place, eyes wide with awe, cutely blinking once again.

“Ah, here we are,” you sighed in relief, brushing past the adoption papers and pulling out the keys, the jangling sound causing Jimin to wince slightly, ears flattening against his head anxiously. You noticed, frowning in slight worry as you watched him, your eyes scanning his face to decipher what the matter was.

“Hey, it’s okay…” You spoke in the same soothing voice as before, Jimin visibly calming as he looked up at you with those wide eyes you couldn’t resist, holding back the urge to coo at him, instead limiting yourself to gently rubbing his ears.

“Come in, Jimin,” you stepped to the side and ushered him in, as he took in his new surroundings, looking back at you for permission to look around.

“Can… can I look at the place…?” He spoke for the second time, his hands shyly pulling his sleeves further over his fists, and you felt yourself melt for the millionth time that day.

“Of course, sweetie, this is your home now, feel free,” you gestured him in, pulling your coat off and carefully hanging it up, not noticing the rose pink dusted on Jimin’s cheeks at the nickname. He cautiously padded around, looking around at all the cute decorations neatly arranged around the house, his head tilting in his usual inquisitive manner.

You followed him in, setting yourself down on the couch, a small smile spreading onto your lips as you watched him, placing your keys back down on the small coffee table in front of you with a loud jangle. Jimin cowered at the sound once again, his tail curling around himself and his ears flattened, gently whimpering in, what seemed like, fear. Your own eyes widened, and you hesitantly reached your arms out for him, coaxing him closer.

“I promise not to hurt you, sweetie, come here…” You met his eyes once again, the anxiety and fear held in them sending a pang to your heart, and you sighed. He carefully and anxiously inched over, his eyes asking you for permission once again, before sitting down onto your lap, his arms instantly flying around your waist as he buried his face in your neck.

You jumped a little at the sudden affection, quickly warming up to the touch as you brought your arms around him, holding him close to you protectively.

“Tell me, what’s wrong?” You looked back down at his face still buried in your neck, and he sighed at the question, finally peeking up with eyes welling up with tears.

“I don’t like the sound of the keys…” he started. “Because they remind me of the keys that would lock me in a cage, in the dark, alone…” He shuddered at the memory, whimpering a little as you felt tugging on your heartstrings, bringing your arms around him tighter in a comforting hug.

“It’s okay now, you’re here to live with me, and I promise to take good care of you, no-one will hurt you here, okay?” You gently brushed the fleeting tears away from his eyes, and he nodded gratefully, his body finally calming and relaxing in your touch, his own arms trembling slightly around your waist.

“They really didn’t treat us as well as it seems… that’s just a show they put on for visitors, they treat us like… well, shit, when there’s no-one here, any sign of “misbehavior”, and we end up in that cage, left alone all night… away from my friends and brothers…” He sighed yet again, his face nuzzling against your neck as he inhaled your sweet scent to calm himself.

“That sucks, that really does, you guys aren’t possessions or objects to be thrown around, yeah?” You gently cupped his face, brushing his cheek with you thumb and he nodded, a grateful smile on his lips.

“Thank you, Y/N, you’re very caring, and… I’m glad you picked me…” He looked down shyly with a growing smile gracing his lips, and you felt your heart flutter, gently stroking his ears with a smile of your own.

**

Over time, the two of you grew close, Jimin finally coming out of his shell and reverting to his true, playful self, his arms forever clinging to your waist whenever you were home. You learned each others’ likes and dislikes, preferences, you introduced Jimin to your favourite TV shows, much to his delight, and he’d sit by you, cuddled into your side affectionately, occasionally swatting you with his tail with a laugh.

There were nights where the bedroom door was locked, clothes strewn carelessly on the floor as needy whimpers and mewls were all that could be heard from the room, mixed in with your own sinful sounds, and nights you spent cuddled together, talking about anything and everything.

You had both become inseparable, his body curled up against yours as you both slept, his tail wrapped protectively around you, arms keeping him close, comforting him every time he woke up alarmed and scared from his occasional nightmares. With your comfort, he always managed to return to the warmth of the bed and your embrace, drifting back into the land of sleep with the gentlest of smiles. 

Forbidden Love | Pt. 12 [Final]

▷ Jimin Angst

❥ “I think about you a little more than I should..”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Epilogue

Originally posted by dannismith


“Hara would never do something like that, Y/N!”

The minute you heard those words coming out of Jimin’s mouth, you snapped your head towards him. He was currently walking from side to side, his hands tucking at his hair as you watched him from your sofa.

Raising your eyebrows, you asked him in disbelief. “What? Do you really think I’m lying?!”

Turning his body towards you, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, Y/N. I know that you don’t like her and I can understand how you feel. But she would never do that. I know her, Y/N, she’s my ex wife. She wouldn’t harm anyone, never! You’re just trying to cover up your mistakes by blaming other people!”

Each one of his words felt like a stab into your heart. He really thought you were lying.

Standing up from the sofa, you pointed towards the door. “Get out.”

This time it was Jimin’s head which snapped up towards you with a shocked expression plastered on his face. “W-What?”

“I said get out.”

You watched how Jimin’s shocked expression turned into a desperate one, his body moving toward you with big steps. “N-No, no no, wait, Y/N! I didn’t mean it like that! Please listen to me! I’m-”

You felt your blood boiling with each of his words. Just before he could end his sentence, you slapped his cheek, the fresh tears you were trying to hold back already rolling down your face. “You didn’t mean it?! Do you know what I went through for the past three years, Jimin?! Do you know how hard it was for me to handle your ex wife and her threads every single day?!”

Reaching out for your phone, you opened the conversation with Hara and slammed your phone against his chest. “Here! Read it! This is what I’ve been going through for the past 3 years!”

Jimin scrolled through the messages with a shocked expression on his face. Closing his eyes tightly, he mumbled a curse before he reached forward, trying to hold you in his arms. “Y/N, I’m really sorry-”

When he saw how you stepped back from him, he stopped talking and looked at you with his watery eyes.

“No Jimin. An apology is not going to bring back those three years. Your apology won’t be able to bring back those three years my son lived without a father! Just because of your ex wife’s selfishness, my son had to live those three years by asking for his father every single day! Do you know how hard it was?! Do you know how it broke my heart every single time when I saw his sad eyes whenever I told him that you couldn’t be with us!”

“What about you?! You replaced me, Y/N! Do you know how much it broke my heart when I saw you in someone else’s arms?! Must have been easy for you to find a boyfriend as soon as I wasn’t there for you-”

“He isn’t my boyfriend!”

Jimin opened his eyes widely, his breath hitching in his throat. “W-What do you mean?”

“He’s my doctor, Jimin. He’s my best friend. He was always there for me when I needed someone. He reached out for me and offered help. He let me live in his house, he helped me through my pregnancy. He took the role of a father for your own son, Jimin.”

Confused, Jimin looked at you. “S-So, he’s your docto- but.. I-I..”

“Mommy.”

When you heard the voice of your son, you turned around immediately. He was running toward you as he was rubbing his sleepy eyes, his bare feet making cute little sounds as he approached you.

You lifted him up as soon as he opened his little arms for you, his head already lying in the crook of your neck as he hugged you tightly. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

He nuzzled his head even further into your neck and mumbled with a shaky voice. “I saw monsters. They were trying to eat me, Mommy. I’m scared.”

Smiling softly, you stroke his hair and placed a kiss on top of his head. “It was just a nightmare, Hyun-ie. I’m here now, you don’t need to be scared.”

You lifted your head and connected your eyes with Jimin’s sad ones, his tears already rolling down his face. He turned around, crouched down and started sobbing, the sound making Jihyun lift up his head and look at his father with curious eyes.

He wiggled in your arms, telling you that he wanted to be placed down and walked towards Jimin, standing in front of him with sad eyes.

Lifting his tiny hands slowly, he grabbed Jimin’s hands and removed them from his face, making Jimin look up to see his little boy standing in front of him with a frown plastered on his face.

Without saying anything, Jihyun wrapped his arms around his father’s neck, his tiny hands stroking his back softly. “Mommy told me that the sadness will go away when you hug someone. You can hug me as long as you want, Daddy.”

Your eyes opened widely when you heard what your son said. He really was aware that Jimin was his father..

Jimin wrapped his arms tightly around his son’s body as he sobbed harder. Seeing them in that position, your eyes started watering again and you too, started crying.

You watched how Jimin lifted Jihyun up as he held him tightly. Walking towards you, he looked at you with pleading eyes. “Please don’t take him away from me, Y/N.. Please.. I don’t think I can live without him. Please, I’m begging you.. I’m really sorry..”

Averting your eyes from Jimin, you looked at your son. His eyes were closed, his arms tightly wrapped around his father’s neck and a soft smile plastered on his face.

Taking a deep breath, you turned your attention back to Jimin and smiled at him. “I won’t..”

Just before you could realize what was happening, Jimin reached out for your wrist and yanked you to his body. When you felt his lips on yours, your body froze immediately, the feeling sending different emotions through your body.

Just before you could respond to his kiss, you heard a little squeaky voice beside your ear. “Ew, gross!”

Leaning back a little bit, you both turned your heads towards your son who was covering his eyes with his tiny hands.

Removing his hands from his eyes, you looked at him slightly angrily. “Yah, Jihyun-ah, who do you learn those words from?”

Smiling sheepishly, he whispered. “Hoseok Hyung.”

When you heard Jimin laugh, you slapped his arm. “Yah, don’t laugh! He shouldn’t be learning such words at his age!”

Placing a soft kiss on his son’s head, Jimin shrugged as he continued laughing. “Ah, I think I already like that dude named Hoseok. Good job, Jihyun-ie.”

Holding their hands up, they both gave each other a high five which was followed by their heartwarming laughter. You, on the other hand, facepalmed and shook your head from side to side.

Looks like your son has already replaced you for his father.


A/N: And here I am with the final part of Forbidden Love.. Thank you all sooo much for all the love and support you have shown for this series. I really enjoyed writing it thanks to y'all! Also thank you all for the nice messages and asks! I really appreciate them! ♥♥

sun’s out, fun’s out

Summary: the Barnes family spend the day at the beach || FLUFF || bucky x reader

Warnings: none, just cuteness

Notes: inspired by @retroasgardian trying to kill me with cute headcanons; here we have Bucky with three kids - Samuel Grant (who goes by Grant), Anna Margaret, and little Rebecca Natalia.

I might make a dad!bucky series idk, who would want that?

MASTERLIST

Keep reading

Preference: Holding their Firstborn

Partially requested by @the-bookish-soul…. Rhys’ is a little longer because thats the one they requested.

Rowan:

He can barely contain himself. Rowan is crying softly, unable to tear his focus away from the little bundle in his arms to even wipe his tears away. He gently holds the baby, forcing himself to be ultra careful so as to not hurt it in any way. He finally looks up at you, still laying in the bed, fresh tears brimming in his eyes and you almost laugh at the sight. Rowan Whitethorn: reduced to tears at the sight of his child, because he has wanted this for centuries, and he finally has it, and he will protect it with everything in him. ‘Thank you’ he mouths, so as not to wake your daughter.

Rhysand: 

Twice Rhys makes sure that you have had enough time holding the baby before he agrees to take it from your arms. She’s small, fragile, and drowsy, Rhys observes, noticing the fluttering of her eyelids and how tiny she is compared to him. Suddenly, her hand comes out and grabs onto his shirt, making Rhys gasp and look up at you in question. You wave your hand, telling him it’s fine, and he relaxes, shifting her weight to one arm so he can grab her little hand in his own, fully engulfing it. He sways, making various quiet noises to help her sleep. ‘Oh Cauldron, I love her so much’ he says to no one in particular. You slowly get up, aching just a bit, and Rhys tries to stop you, but you wave him off and stand in front of him, your daughter in between the two of you. You grasp her other hand, kiss her forehead, and then look up at your husband. ‘My whole world in four square feet of space’ he murmurs, not looking away from his daughter, a small smile on his lips. 

Dorian:

He’s not sure he could be any happier than he is at this moment. His heir, his child, his daughter, swaddled in his arms is the best feeling in the world. Her little wisps of dark hair tickle his arm as he runs a thumb gently over her soft, chubby cheek. Her sapphire eyes open slightly and Dorian smiles grandly and kisses her forehead. ‘She’s so perfect’ he whispers, and you can’t help but agree. 

Keep reading

2

Alien Draco commissioned by @jackwhitesgirl !

“Malfoy, you don’t honestly think you can keep this up can you? She will find out eventually you know. She’s a smart one.” Blaise leaned his head back to rest on Pansy’s stomach, watching as Draco touched his cheek making sure the glamour stuck; concealing all of his markings underneath.

“I intend to keep it up whenever I am with her, that is the goal isn’t it? To seduce and claim? How do you expect me to do that with a face like this? It isn’t normal here Blaise. Nothing about us is normal!” He hissed, raking a newly glamoured hand through his unruly silver hair.

“I understand that Draco bu-”

“No, we have a mission. One that was entrusted to us and I intend to follow it. This is the only way.” Sighing he looked at his reflection once more.

I just hope it will be enough…

From The Ones Who Heard by @jackwhitesgirl