Hc that Connor acts all tough and stuff™ but kind of afraid of dogs (or any other normally domestic animal) Troubled boy needs comforting.
-at school, Connor scares everyone off, it might just be his exterior or the fact that his glare could decapitate you but you loved him nonetheless.
-he’s always been overprotective but you find it endearing
-the first time he comes over to ur house he sees ur dog and tenses, you notice but hunk he just got cold or something.
-he doesn’t understand how you let ur dog anywhere near your face, be it kisses or sniffs, he just doesn’t want to be anywhere near its mouth((more specifically its teeth))
- “Connor, why won’t you pet Y/P/N?? I mean they’re sitting right in front of you waiting for some pets.” You would laugh out and he would turn red.
“Oh I uh- I didn’t know if-”
“Are you scared of dogs? Because thats totally fine you should’ve told me! I’m so sorry!”
//you would be holding back a slight laugh though bc the tough guy connor who throws printers and such, is scared of your never-hurt-anyone-or-anything dog
“Don’t be sorry, I’m just a pussy.” And he would pout, causing you to walk over to him squish has face in your hands while you tell him that is normal to be scared stuff.
-turns out once he pet your dog he couldn’t get enough?? Like why does this animal like me for no reason?? I love it??
-you make jokes about how he loves your dog more than you, or anyone,, and he laughs and then always walks over to you after you make that joke and kisses ur forehead.
He sat at the back of the cafe, patiently waiting and scrolling through something on his phone. Everything about his appearance begged to be left alone. He sought solitude. Begged for it. His hat was pulled low over his eyes and she could make out the shape of his lips below his nose. His eyes, angled down at his tiny screen were hidden from her view, as they usually were.
Summary: As usual, your family couldn’t stay a day without fighting. That didn’t change because of Christmas. You left the house for a walk, trying to catch some air and scape the crazyness for a while, and something amazing happened: someone saved your Christmas.
Warnings: fluff, drinking
Word Count: 1381
A/N: some late-Christmas one-shot. It’s more depressing than I expected, but hey, Chris saves your Christmas!
You took a deep breath, turning up the music on
your cellphone, trying not to hear all the fight and screams that was coming
from downstairs. You were used to it. Your family has always been like this. If
you had just a month of peace, you’d think a miracle was happening. You closed
your eyes, tears starting to come up, and rubbed your temple. You thought they’d
give a break at least on Christmas Eve, but that did not happen. You took your
coat and put your shoes on, going down the stairs.
“Going for a walk” you said but no one listened
to you since they were too busy arguing. You shut the door and started to walk,
honestly not even thinking about where you were going. It was snowing and it was
cold, and because of that everyone was hurrying up to go their houses. You sat
on a bench in front of a 24h shop and stood there for a while, watching
everyone come and go. Every happy family you saw you smiled, wishing it was
When you started to feel cold – because you didn’t
really bother to grab your best coat – you looked in your phone and saw you
spent almost two hours on the streets. There was no missing calls, though,
which could mean two things: they were still arguing or they have killed each
other. You laughed ironically through your nose. You saw a fifty-something
woman walk out of the shop trying to carry at least three boxes of gifts with
her and laughed, getting up and helping her.
“You’re so good to me, baby girl. So fucking perfect.”
You glow under Jongin’s praise, the ache in your knees and shoulders ebbing away until all you can feel is the warmth of his words and the weight of him on your tongue. This is the first time you’ve had more than five minutes to spend together since the phone call and you wanted to do something nice for your boyfriend.
And by nice you mean putting on a brand new lingerie set made of black lace, cuffing your hands behind your back, and waiting for him in your bedroom on your knees.
The perfect picture of seduction and submission.
His face when he walked in was absolutely priceless; shock that quickly turned into awe and heated desire. Jongin approached with smooth and even strides, fully submersed in his role by the time he reached you and hooked a finger under your chin, guiding you to meet his eyes.
“Is this all for me, baby girl?”
“This is such a nice surprise,” he said, thumb coming up to trace the swell of your bottom lip. “So I think you should get something nice in return.”
Genre: Angst? Fluff? Smut? The holy fuckin trinity really. It’s like very slight smut. Like mentions of it.
Word Count: 2,639 (Very short ugh but worth it I swear.)
Summary: Dan is embarrassed. He made a mistake. He let his boyfriend take pictures of him during sex. And now, the whole school has seen them. He’s heart broken. But he forgives the boyfriend and slight fluff happens! Very shitty description but very much worth the read.
A/N: I took like 5ever to write this because of my little brother so please don’t punch me and just appreciate this shit I have given you
I walked into my school and suddenly felt the tension of all eyes on me. I could feel their stares burn into my flesh and was wondering why in the hell they were looking at me. Maybe I’m wearing something that is stained? Or I smell? I couldn’t decipher which yet but I had a feeling that whatever reason I’m being stared at is not a good one. I walk to my locker and open it up, getting out my books for my first few classes before lunch. Every lunch I sit with my boyfriend, Phil, which I couldn’t wait for because I have a feeling he’ll know what everyone is staring at me for. I went to my first class of the day, senior calculus. I’m kind of a nerd when it comes to school, being only 15 and taking two classes intended for seniors only. I sat in the middle, since most of the other seats were filled due to me being so god damn late to all my classes. I was sat next to this group of girls who were continuously giving me weird stares. I still don’t not know what the fuck is going on but something tells me I’m not going to much like it. Then something strange happens;
“I’m so sorry.” A girl leans over and whispers to me. What the fuck is she sorry for? I can’t seem to grasp what possibly could have happened to make someone sorry for me. What had I done the last few days that would get someone to say that to me? Especially the way she said it, with such sympathy and sadness?
I’m going over in my head over and over again as to what I could have done. I didn’t do anything school related that was even slightly rebellious. Maybe it was something I had done outside of school that somehow linked back to people at school feeling bad. I can’t figure it out for the life of me, so I ignore it and focus on the problems on the board that I’m supposed to be solving. It wasn’t even that hard of a problem, for being meant for kids that are 18 anyways. I couldn’t really concentrate, though, I’m too focused on what I did! Because I still don’t know. The teacher gets up and starts talking, going on and on and on about stuff I couldn’t care less about. Marcus and Jacob are sat next to me, these two guys who always give me hell about being gay. They have these smug looks on their faces and are giving me the evil eye. The one my mother used to give me when I ate the last cookie or something, but more devious and mischievous. I have no clue why they are giving me this look but hey, I’ve been clueless all day when it comes to people staring at me like they have been. The bell rings after what feels like hours despite only being 52 minutes. I stand up and rush away, a group of girls giggling at me as I jog down the hall to my next class. Maybe my fat is jiggling while I jog, I’m gonna hope that’s the case. I sit in the back of my next class, hood up trying to avoid everyone’s burning gaze. I can still feel the dirty looks I’m getting and I’m desperate to know why. I can’t grasp, I can’t physically wrap my mind around what I could have possibly done to get this; and then it hit me. Like a slap across the face with a wet tuna like my grandmother used to do to me as a boy, I remembered why.
Last night, during cough cough sexy times, with my boyfriend Phil, he took pictures. That’s the only incriminating thing I have done recently, but I don’t think he’d show those off. We have been dating two months, and last night he took my virginity. He insisted he loves me, and that he wouldn’t show anyone the pictures; that they were only so he could remember the moment we first made love. So that’s definitely not it…right? I shook my head to rid the thought, thinking about it. He loves me I can feel it. We are soul mates. He loves me. He…he said so. He promised. He wouldn’t do that to me. Right?
I sat through class and kept thinking and thinking but I know he wouldn’t do that. I finish up my book work in the class and wait for the bell to ring. Once it finally does, I walk through the halls and groan because everyone is still looking at me! I don’t know why and it’s pissing me off to no ends point. I go to my second senior class, chemistry. This class I incidentally have with Phil so I use this as an opportunity to ask him what the fuck is up. I sit next to him, but he ignores me completely. He stares at the wall, chewing the inside of his lip pretending I don’t exist. I gently swat him and he turns to me, glaring at me the same way everyone else has been all day. I look at him with wide, scared eyes, because I’m not sure what his fucking problem is or what anyone’s is for that matter. He sighs, sounding very annoyed with me and opens his mouth to talk.
“What, kid?” He asks me and I look at him, hurt and blank.
“W-what?” I ask and swallow thickly. “Phil… What?” I ask.
“Why are you talking to me?” He asked.
“Because I’m your boyfriend? B-because we had sex last night? What?” I stutter out. I’m feeling pretty broken right now. I’m hurting tremendously. He’s acting like the last two months were just my imagination.
“You’re delusional.” He says. “We aren’t dating, dude. Yeah we had sex but that was a onetime thing.” He shrugs like he didn’t just shatter my heart to tiny bitty bits.
“We’ve been dating for two months?” I said. It comes out more like a question.
“I was trying to get in your pants.” He shrugged again. The shrugging little shit head. I gaped at him. What the actual fuck?
“Why has everyone been staring at me today, Philly?” I asked.
He looked at me, but not angrily like he had been, but sadly and full of regret. He handed me his phone and mumbled an apology to me. At least the fuck has a conscience I suppose. I looked at his phone and I swear to the good lord my grandmother worships so much that my jaw hit the fucking floor. The pictures he took last night…Me…Naked. There’s 7 total. The first one is of my mouth, more specifically, my lips around his cock. My eyes are a bit watery from the size. The second one is of me on my back, my shirt off and me sweating covered in hickeys that I still have. The third is me on my hands and knees, I’m blushing as I look at them. He has two fingers inside me and is scissoring me apart. The fourth photo he’s got three fingers in and my face is buried in the pillow. The fifth is me on my back again, naked and stretched, open and waiting. I’m smiling innocently, and blushing deeply. The sixth is me after the sex, fucked out and wrecked, my hole gaping open from his cock. The final one is a compilation of the first six with a caption. I read it out loud, letting out a sob at the end.
“Told you I could do it.” I read out loud and looked at him. He looked at me with genuine sympathy. Maybe he felt bad now. But who cares about that! I’m looking at the info of these pictures and it says he sent these pictures to over 30 FUCKING PEOPLE INCLUDING HIS MUM WHICH IS A LITTLE WEIRD BUT I’M NOT FOCUSED ON THAT I’M JUST ANGRY AS FUCK.
“Dan…I…” He started and I stared at him, angrily.
Maybe I could get in trouble for what I’m about to do, but do I care? Maybe…No. I don’t. I stand up, throwing his phone down and hearing it crack, then grabbing the nearest blunt object I can find and I hit him right over the head with it. I watch him fall out of his chair, his nose bleeding and I throw it on top of his and kick him as hard as my little body will let me. It’s obvious I’ve hurt him and he’s looking at me as if I’m in the wrong here. I pick up the chair I was in, back up a little, then throw it down on him and listen to his breathing become wheezy. The teacher is running up to me and screaming but I’m in this haze and all I want to do is beat the living fuck out of Phil Lester. By now there are 3 teachers holding me back and Phil is holding his stomach, hunched over in a ball. He’s not crying but it seems I actually got him pretty badly. I’m feeling quite proud of myself as the teachers drag me down to the office. Little 5’3, 15 year old me beat the hell out of 6’3, 18 year old Phil Lester. If he had fought back, I know he’d have won. Oh most definitely. But I won. And he deserved every bit of pain that he is currently in. I’m sat in the office chair and the principal is talking to me and I’m screaming, I mean going nuts. I’m pissed, I’m beyond the point of no return here.
Now I’m in the car, my mum and dad in the front seat and yelling at me asking, no, demanding a reason why I did this but fuck, I’ll be damned if I tell them why. They don’t even know I’m gay let alone that I had a boyfriend who I let take pictures of me naked! I shook my head, insisting that it was just teenage rage, but they aren’t having it. They are telling me I better own up or I’m in deeper shit then I already am in. So I tell them. And now they’re screaming even louder and angrier. I’m not sure how to react so I really just ignore them and play on my phone. I’m getting loads of texts from people.
“Dan you kicked Lester’s ass!” “Dan everyone’s talking about you!” “Dan your dick is so small! And that’s hard?” “Dan you’re so hot!” “Dan Phil’s actually in the emergency room! You broke his nose!” “Dan you’re so tiny!”
Why the hell are so many about my dick? I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that other people were going to be seeing my cock. Phil insisted my size was fine but clearly not. I rolled my eyes and kept reading the texts.
“Dan you’re dick is smalllllll!” “Dan you look so weird like that!” “Dan you’re gaping open in that last one!” “Dan everyone at school has seen the pics bro!”
I want to cry. Everyone has seen my dick. Great. I decide to reply.
“Guys. I’m 15, my dick isn’t going to be 13.9 inches or whatever. Phil told me it was fine…I didn’t think anyone would see anyways.” I text. I notice that message even got sent to Phil. I’m momentarily freaked out but then realize I couldn’t care less because this is his fault. I sigh and put my phone done until I feel it buzz with a text from Phil himself.
“Dan. I’m so sorry.” He says.
“Yes because that helps me now.” I respond bitterly. We get home and I walk up to my room, laying on my bed to text Phil.
“Dan really. I’m sorry. Chris told me that if I could get in your pants that he’d help me get a date with his sister, right?” He texted and I groaned.
“You used me to get with Chris’s sister?”
“No let me finish.” Phil says.
“Finish then bitch.”
“Okay, so he said that I had to prove that I got with you and I figured that the pictures would be proof, yeah?” He says
“Okay. So then, immediately after sending the pictures, I regretted it. Fucking hell I regretted sending them, Dan! And I was thinking, I’ve spent 2 months telling you I love you. So do I even want that date with Rebecca? NO! I don’t. I said I love you so much that I actually believe it Dan, I actually feel it. I do love you and fuck I’m so sorry…Everyone is saying really nasty things about you too. And I feel so bad, so fucking bad. I love you, Danny. I don’t want Rebecca, okay? Not anymore. I want you. I want the way you sleep over at my house and eat my cereal, the way I woke up hard for two months and you could just blush at me and shuffle away, the way you yelled at the TV when playing skyrim, the way you drank like 12 glasses of chocolate milk a day, the way you watch attack on titan more than you watched your little brother.” He typed. I want to be mad, I don’t want to forgive him. I don’t. But I love him so much, and I’m so genuinely polite that I can’t not forgive him. I sigh and give in.
“Fine. I forgive you.” I text him and sigh once more. “But, you fuck up again, and I’ll kill you I swear to god.”
“You broke my nose.” Phil told me. “And cracked 5 ribs. You really can fight when you are pissed, Dan. I’ll give you that.”
“Fuck, really?” I typed and giggled, feeling very proud of myself.
“Yeah. I’m on a few pain meds. “I’m actually at the ER right now, but my mum forced me to tell you I’m sorry since you’re such a sweet boy and all.”
“Oh speaking of your mum, why’d you send her the pictures?”
“It was an accident. She hit me with an actual rolling pin for that.” He told me and I giggled again.
“Damn right she did! Go Mrs. Lester!” I grinned. “But you owe me like a fuck ton. And if you think you’re getting into my pants any time soon you are shit out of luck. You’ll be lucky if I let you touch me sexually again within the next 7 years.”
“Fine by me. I don’t deserve you that way anyways.” Phil told me and I smiled.
“I’ll let you touch me, but no pictures. Ever. I’m being teased about my dick being so small. 5 inches hard isn’t really that bad is it?” I ask and bit my lip.
“Well, you’re only 15. You turned 15 like last month too, so it’s fine really. I kind of have a kink for tiny cocks anyways.”
“Good. Yeah…I hate my size.” I sigh and stare at my jeans. Dammit dick. GROW UP A LITTLE WOULD YA PLEASE THANKS.
“I think it’s cute. Others just want a big cock, but considering you bottom it’s okay. It’s cute too.”
“My dick shouldn’t be cute!” I laughed.
"It’s a cock! It should be big and pleasing or whatever.”
“It is pleasing! I like it.” Phil said and I’m imagining that he’s smiling too.
“I love you.” I say.
“I love drugs.” He responds and I laugh.
“I swear to god say it back!” I giggle.
“I love you too.” He says.
“Thanks.” I roll my eyes.
“You don’t do drugs!” I laugh.
“I don’t do you either n’ I love you!” He reasoned.
That seemed logical enough.
The importance of teeth in Snowpiercer is alliterated and emphasized consistently. By virtue of the starving narrative, we are already drawn to the mouth. Several of the shots in the tail emphasize the mouth (More specifically, that of Andrew’s open-mouthed shout of pain when his arm is freezing, and that of Mason’s overly phlegmy, dentured mouth; the latter of which is one of the first characteristics of the woman that is noticeable, beyond her richly purple and yellow clothes).
The soldiers in the infamous Cod scene are, for the most part, covered entirely except for their mouths- they are reduced to nothing more than flashing teeth in the upcoming fight.
Curtis constantly chews on his fingers.
The introduction to Old World pleasures is by an oral object- the cigarette, reinforced by smell (when the Tail practically sways as Namgoong lights up). It’s one of the first things Namgoong does, and the mouth is again reinforced by the necessity of a device to translate both English and Korean.
Mason removes her teeth as a sign of innocence, to show that she’s no threat. It’s her way of pleading, and it’s not small detail that she’s issuing this plea to Curtis.
In fact, the teeth and the mouth always comes back to Curtis. It’s the tip-off to his characterization, and it often runs hand in hand (heh) to what his hands are doing.
The mouth is Curtis’ imagery. He consistently covers his mouth with his hands, clenches his jaw, and rarely shows teeth; the only place I can really remember him showing teeth is when he’s animalistically baring them at Mason’s throat.
It’s important to remember that this is the one part of the film where Curtis’ visible anger and reactionary actions are so sudden and unexpected, compared to his normally reserved and tense self.
Moments before this baring of teeth?
He’s holding his hand in front of his mouth, his own physical sign of restraint.
We’re later drawn back to the benign imagery of the cigarette. At this point of the film, we’ve gotten so much of what the mouth is, and what it should do (It’s interesting to note that the people in masks on the bridge don’t get mouths) and the manipulation that a mouth can cause, that we as an audience expects Curtis to actually smoke the thing.
Instead, he wastes it and other than one or two tiny drags, he doesn’t put it in his mouth, as he tells the audience why the mouth is so important. Why teeth are so emphasized. Each instance of the mouth within this film is to build up the realization that the mouth is Curtis’ core trait, the thing he ultimately holds the most guilt over- It’s a physical representation of his guilt, where his hands are his anxiety, his suppression.
(703):To this day, he introduces me as "the girl I met climbing trees at 3 A.M." + (936):the paramedic just looked at me like "you again?" + sterek
Derek sighs when he spots him, deep disappointment etched into the crease between his eyebrows. “You again?” he says, although his tone is completely free of surprise, like he’d already expected to find Stiles.
Stiles lets out a pitiful whimper which is only, like, ten percent for dramatic effect and to evoke Derek’s sympathy, and ninety percent actual pain and agony, because his leg really fucking hurts. “It took you long enough,” he gripes as Derek squats down next to him. “I’m dying.” He sniffs for good measure.
Derek adjusts his glasses—he’s in glasses tonight, and Stiles is in too much pain to acknowledge and admire it to full extent—looks Stiles up and down. “You being a petulant little shit tells me you’re nowhere near dying,” he simpers, and Stiles would be outraged if it wasn’t for the stupid crinkles around Derek’s eyes. “What happened?”
“The ground was in my way,” Stiles says, matches Derek’s lifted eyebrows with a little shrug.
“As usual,” Derek muses, little smirk curling at the corners of his mouth, and starts patting down Stiles’ leg gently. “What were you doing?”
“Pole-dancing. Or, in this case, tree-dancing.”
Derek levels him with a flat look. “Do you even have the necessary brain-limb-coordination for dancing?”
“Ha ha.” Stiles sneers, and hisses when Derek reaches his ankle, touching it with gentle, dexterous fingers. “I have you know I am a great dancer.”
“You also told me you knew your way around mushrooms when I brought you in after you poisoned yourself with toadstools,” Derek points out, unimpressed, while he finishes his superficial examination.
So apparently I can’t stop making TW AUs when I should be studying for finals. I have a serious problem.
Cora had barely spoken to any of her friends since they lost Lydia. It had been a huge loss for all four of them, and each one was handling it their own way. Allison had set as a personal goal to avenge her, which basically meant killing every zombie who got in her way. No mercy. Scott was a wreck. He didn’t talk, he didn’t eat and he barely slept, he just spent his days torturing himself for not being able to save her. And Stiles…Cora didn’t even know what to think about Stiles. He kept going on as if nothing had changed, as if Lydia was still there or worse; as if her death meant absolutelly nothing to him. Cora hadn’t seen him sheding a tear since it happened, he hadn’t even mentioned Lydia’s name and every time Cora tried to talk to him about it he immediately changed the subject. Ever since the zombie virus reached Beacon Hills and they started running, they had lost enough people for Cora to learn that it was better to leave Stiles alone until he was ready to talk about it. She had tried to give him space at first, but now she was starting to get worried.
“Calum?” You uncertainly asked as you tried your very best to recall last night and be optimistic despite the very obvious ‘today i fucked up’ moment.
The twinkling signage in blue neon lights was contrasting the harsh streak of sunlight outside, the coarse carpet made your skin itch, and you surely don’t remember how you both ended up sleeping soundly on the floor.
You tried to clear your mind to think and the hazy pieces of your memory are beginning to form some parts of the puzzle. and from the looks of the needles and inks and clutter, you concluded that you both somehow wounded up at the local tattoo shop where Calum works part time.
“Hmmm It’s too early y/n” He mumbled and loosely wrapped his hand around your waist and the other serving as his makeshift pillow making it more an uncomfortable position. Trying to make you comeback to sleep again, his calloused hands rubbed circles on your hip but the sudden painful sting that it brought made you bolt up immediately and the quick shift of movement awoke him as well.
He slowly squatted, the booze caused him to move groggily as he rubbed his eyes to glance at the clock that was hanging on the wall. It was 11 am and he was silently glad that the shop was closed during Sundays cause he’d surely get fired if his boss found out. But his floating trance was quickly cut by the sudden high pitch of your voice.
“What the fuck!” You shrieked as you slowly examined the origin of the pain and you were greeted by a foreign sight that was now residing on your left hip.
You hoped that you were still drunk and hallucinating but you were surely awake right now and furious was just an understatement. You instantly remembered the bigger picture now, drunk and high after a frat party It only took a bottle and a couple of spins for you to do something your rational self wouldn’t allow you to.
And no it wasn’t the cliché truth or dare either. You wished it was, but the malicious mark inked in black on your hip had its own story to tell. You just got your first tattoo and it was a dick. Not Moby dick, but the real dick.
He was obviously not fully sober and he contorted his brows and confusedly looked at the direction your index finger was pointing at, before realizing what has been done. What he has done to be more specific. His mouth was agape and he was trying his best not to burst out of laughter.
“Well at least it turned out decently, it’s still a work of art” He jokingly commented and chuckled in attempt to lighten up your mood but your clenched jaw and raised brows was a clear indication of how displeased you were.
The look was enough to cut off his barely audible chuckles. He wasn’t really sure how to break this awkward moment so he just yawned and rolled back again on the floor pretending to resume his sleep, while silently hoping he didn’t have to deal with this and you’d let him slip away. But his relaxed demeanor ignited more of your anger.
You two weren’t even the best of friends but you had this flirty approach towards each other. You weren’t entirely sure how he convinced you last night. It was probably alcohol and his undeniable charisma. The tattoo? You remembered being hyped up when someone discovered a hidden card on Cards Against Humanity’s the bigger and blacker box. You should’ve known better that the idea brought trouble.
You looked around the place and spotted a black marker among the mess on the table placed at the back, which you assumed was used when they made outlines of tattoo design on paper.You smirked and finally got an idea, this guy’s gonna get his dose of his own medicine.Your legs were a bit wobbly when you stood up to make your way to the said table which was only meters away.
‘You think it’s funny huh” You turned you back against him and swiftly grabbed the marker and hid it on your bra’s crevice without him noticing. You heard him shuffle and a quick glance confirmed your suspicion as he was now laying back and enjoying the view of your ass.
“Are you checking me out?” You bluntly inquired as you sassed your way back while purposely swaying your hips slowly the way you knew would make him crazy. You stepped closer to him and while making eye contact. He still looked hot with his hair disheveled and his plump lips parting as you slowly dropped on your knees and crawled up to him like a lioness hunting for prey.
His adam’s apple was bobbing up and down when you were close enough and groaned when you straddled his hips. You bit your lip seductively when his large hands started making its way up to your legs but you were quicker, you locked his wrists above his head with the nearest piece of cloth you could grab and knotted it tightly.
“I didn’t know you love being in control” He teased and smirked playfully not hiding the fact that he was turned on at current situation.
You smirked back. Oh he was so oblivious
“Of course baby I love being in control” You raspily whispered on his ear while your hands were slowly tugging the edge of his shirt, hinting him that you wanted it off. He nodded and you peeled of his shirt slowly up until above his head where his wrists were still placed.
Your hands now traveled to your own shirt and you made sure he would see your movements. You crept it from beneath all the way up, for him it looked like a strip tease show but in reality your hand was slowly grabbing the marker you hid on the tight crevice of your bra.
“What are you doing?” He looked confused when you waved the marker. You grinned and popped the marker open.
“A work of art” You mimicked his line earlier but you were laughing as soon as you started to draw the outline of a similar replica of your tattoo on his chest. You looked back at him and you wanted to frame the shocked look on his face.
“Are you seriously doing that right now?” You could feel the vibrations on his chest when he snickered but that eventually turned into a full blown laughter when you started to fill the outlines and it was indeed contagious because you were both erupting into laughter until your stomach hurt.
“I’m sorry, I was drunk. I’ll fix that for you. Now can you get this thing off my wrist?”
“Since you asked nicely” You stood up and immediately untangled the cloth and freed his wrists. You laid back on the carpet and tilted your head as you positioned like the poster on ‘the fault in our stars’.
“Last night was great” He stated while his dreamy gaze fixed upon the antique rotating fan on the ceiling while getting lost at the moment.
“It was awful” You replied and closed your eyes, now feeling the kick of your hang over and the constant sting on your hip.
“It was great” He insisted and rolled his head to look at your sleeping state and a smile was forming again on his lips.
Okay, so since it could be anything, I decided to fill out of of my many headcanons for these two. Also, I like to make them hold hands, don’t know why.
Title: You Idiot
Rating: T for boy smooches
Summary: To this day Hinata and Kageyama can’t remember what they were fighting about, Tsukishima swears it was over Hinata’s shorts being too short, but Hinata and Kageyama are suspicious of their sneaky friend.
But who can blame them for forgetting? They fight over a lot of stupid things.
There was no saboteur on Big Brother, but for the remaining houseguests, it became an easy reason to vote out one of the most memorable personalities of the season.
Originator of the powerful Detonators alliance,23-year-old unemployed Palm Beach, Fla. native Zach Rance, now the third member of the jury, was evicted with a 5-0 vote on Thursday. Rance blamed himself — more specifically his big mouth — for costing him the game, acknowledging that gave his alliance members and the rest of the house reason to target him week in and week out. It was a miracle he lasted this long after originally being targeted for eviction in Week 2.
Because the nine-person jury has now begun, evicted houseguests will be answering questions via email for The Hollywood Reporter following their evictions. With a juror back in the game (congrats “froot loop dingus” Nicole!), questions will only be centered on conversations, alliances and events they were privy to. In his exit interview for THR, Rance answers 10 questions, including the death of “Zankie,” why his mouth cost him $500,000 and why the Detonators wanted him out.
You acknowledged that your mouth ultimately cost you the game, which, in the past, has been an effective strategy for other houseguests. Why didn’t it work for you?
I told people too much and I told them the truth. It made people not want to tell me stuff.
Had you volunteered to go up on the block opposite Donny at the start of the week instead of dealing with Skittle-Gate, do you think that could have benefited you?
Yes because we would have won the competition and we would have been safe for the week.
You were prepared for your eviction. Was there anything you could have done or said to extend your stay?
Nothing. Everyone wanted me gone and neither of the girls were voting Cody out. Christine got a little too close to Cody if you know what I mean…
What was the one move or decision you wish you could do over?
I wish I didn’t tell Victoria and Nicole my entire game.
You and Frankie were one of the strongest duos of the season when “Zankie” was at its best. What went wrong for your “best friend” to put you up on the block?
Our trust was broken and it couldn’t be fixed.
There were various moments where you could have teamed with other houseguests like Nicole and Donny. How serious were you about straying from the Detonators and should you have?
Never serious because they had all the power but looking back, it would not have been a bad move.
Immediately after your eviction, you weren’t sure who you would target if you won HOH. Now that you’ve had some time to think, who would be at the top of your list?
What do you think will be Nicole’s biggest obstacle now that she’s re-entered the house?
Getting rid of the rest of The Detonators.
Who do you think is in the best/worst position in the house and why?
Best position: Derrick because he is extremely trustworthy. He has a very high Big Brother IQ. Worst position is Donny because everyone is coming for him.
Now that you’re in the jury, which houseguest has your vote if you were to determine the winner today?