request: can i get a kian imagine where y/n and him are going through a hard time in their relationship and fight all the time one day y/n comes home late thinking kian’s sleeping so she slips into bed with him but he’s awake so he grabs and cries into her neck saying im so sorry for everything,love you so much,I don’t want u to leave me,y/n is playing with his hair and gives kisses on his head telling him that she loves him back and she isn’t going anywhere,the ending can be all fluff
Imagine Dean admitting his favorite look on you is when you wake up.
Being a hunter left little to no room for all the things other women your age had like nice and extremely expensive clothes, so many shoes and high heels and of course make up. Being in this life made you appreciate the mere fact that you had survived at least one more day, however many bruises or cuts that day had added to your body. But that didn’t mean you didn’t wish you could have what they did for longer than three hours because that’s how long flirting to get information usually lasted. Sometimes even less because Dean couldn’t stand how close the guys would end up getting to you and he’d just storm in and grab you by the hand, not caring to even think about the case.
And as that you found yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror, making funny faces and trying to tak everything in from your hair, to your face, to your clothes (sort of yours, let’s be honest living with Dean under the same roof means you weren’t going to let his shirts just slip from your hands). The fact that you had just woken up and looked at the mirror – meaning you weren’t exactly at your best – didn’t make you feel any better about yourself.
“Damn it.” you groaned to yourself, and as it happened in most situations you were able to focus only on the parts you didn’t like. Maybe if there was one thing you hated hunting for the most it was this. You hated not having the chance to try out things others did, and you weren’t just thinking about the apple-pie life. That you could only dream of with the green-eyed man you loved and you highly doubted he’d feel the same for you, so there went that.
“Agreed.” you heard a voice next to you and you all-but-jumped.
“Dean” you groaned, placing a hand over your heart while he stood there casually leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. You gave him a small glare, trying to casually smooth down your hair after a crazy night of tossing and turning in your sleep.
“What?” he gave you that cheeky grin that made your heart skip a beat “I thought we were talking about how damn beautiful you are in the mornings, weren’t we?” he said and if you felt your face burn before now it was on fire. You tried to hide your blush but you were too frozen in your place.
“Just shut up.” you growled, finally finding your voice and managing to turn your back to him “By the way, you hang out too much with Cas, don’t know if you’ve realized that.” you mumbled, hoping you’d change the subject but you weren’t all that successful.
“Probably, so I might as well just be as bold, right?” he grinned as you glanced at him over your shoulder. You didn’t speak back to him, instead started fixing your bed. However when you looked over your shoulder he was still standing there, having that shit-eating grin on.
“What? Are you now going to watch over me too?” you asked in a deep voice, imitating that of Castiel’s.
“No, no.” he chuckled, shaking his head “I’m just really… really-” he said almost breathlessly “Enjoying the view.” he winked at you and you scoffed, rolling your eyes.
“Seriously Dean.” you shook your head “If you’re trying to make me feel better about myself, it’s not working.”
“What do you mean?” his smile fell for a moment as if he was really struggling to understand you “I’m not trying to cheer you up. I am just… saying the truth.”
“What?” you laughed humorlessly “That I look good in the morning, hair a total mess, eyes a little puffy along with my lips and that while wearing your old shirt.” you said, shaking your head.
“Hey, for the record my shirt is not old, it’s perfectly fine and if I might say my favorite!” he protested “But I only let you have it because it looks better on you. Not that it wouldn’t off of you but still-” he shrugged with a smirk “And I’m sorry but it sure as hell looks better on you than any other dress or fancy clothes would.” he said seriously and your eyebrows shot up at his words.
“Wh-what?” you whispered and he shrugged “Dean I’m not even wearing shoes-”
“And your feet are cute too!” he grinned cheekily “Except for when we’re cuddling, then they just- I just wanna run as far away as possible.” he said with a shudder but what shocked you the most was his honesty.
“Shut up.” you shook your head, frowning “I’m certainly no better than the chic that was hitting on you last night at the bar, full face of make up, hair done perfectly and clothes on point. That dress probably costed more than all of our guns.” you let out another strained laugh.
“So what? Does that suddenly make her any better?” he scoffed, making a face “I know for a fact that you’d look so much better in those clothes sweetheart but you know the good thing about you? You don’t need them, not in the least bit.”
“I doubt that, honestly now I’d use some of it.” you mumbled, fidgeting with your hands.
“(Y/n)-” he clenched his jaw “I meant what I said. I’ve seen wear all kinds of things yet I insist you in my old clothes without a hint of make up or anything else on is and will always be my favorite sight in the world.”
“But… why?” you choked out and he shrugged.
“Honestly?” he smirked, approaching you although he had already come closer before “Because this is you. This is the real you, without any effort put in anything, hair, clothes or face. This is the honest you, all of you, and to be honest? I couldn’t find you any more attractive. This is really you and I love seeing it. That plus I can’t help how the sight of you in my clothes makes me feel.” he smirked, winking at you and before you could react to any of the things he said, from the attractive part to the feeling part. You had so much to ask about it.
But again you couldn’t because your voice got caught and when he kissed your cheek, grinning at you and giving your ass a small slap a squeak was the only thing that was heard along with his footstep.
[LONG A/N: You guys asked for it so you guys got it, I don’t love it as much as the first part but this is as good as its gonna get cause I’ve wrote it and rewrote and then rewrote it again and then went to the SBC and asked them all about it (thanks @kingpendleton u my boo). So without further ado, here ya go bbs.
Also sorry if you wanted to be tagged in this but didn’t, I had a lot of people requesting to be tagged and now because tags aren’t really working well plus the amount of you asking is just a super crazy amount I’m going to stop adding new people to the list - honestly I totally appreciate and love your guys support but I feel like its a bit pointless when I know tagging isn’t directing anyone to my work and you’ve still just got to scroll through my blog to get to the specific fic. In light of this though I am going to seriously update my masterlist so finding my work shouldn’t be difficult and I will reblog it daily so people can stay up to date!]
The inky-haired teen quickly began to raise himself from the
booth, he slammed shut his laptop and gathered it together with the papers that
lay scattered across the table. He brought his knees up to his chest in a bid
to jump over the back of the booth before a looming hand grappled his shoulder
‘Oh no you don’t
buddy.’ Archie Andrews booming voice called out.
‘Let go of my shoulder
Arch.’ Jughead replied sternly. ‘This is something that isn’t up for
Jehan asks from their favourite spot on the floor (it’s the only spot where they
can lean against the radiator and still reach their boyfriend’s feet when
Montparnasse is sitting in his favourite chair).
lowers his gaze and looks into Jehan’s face. Their eyes are wide and innocent,
but he doesn’t trust it one bit. “No I don’t,” he says. And he doesn’t like
cats. He respects them. From a distance.
cats better than other animals,” Jehan tries again.
either,” he contradicts. “I like betta fish.”
their hand around vaguely, bracelets tinkling gently. “Fish don’t really count
makes a nondescript sound. There is a short silence in which Jehan plays with
the frayed edges of the strategic rips in Montparnasse’s black skinny jeans. And
then, just when Montparnasse starts to relax again:
“I like cats.”
grimaces. “You like all animals.”
“But especially cats,” Jehan says
looks at them and he knows what’s coming and this is so incredibly unfair
because he already had a glass of wine and Jehan is wearing one of those
flowery crop tops that the weather should already be too cold for and he’s
looking at him with those damn big eyes with little specs of light in them…
silence on Montparnasse’s end is apparently enough encouragement for Jehan.
“The couple I’m doing the wedding invitations for have cats,” they say.
like a cat, Montparnasse thinks, arching your back against the radiator like
that. But he doesn’t say anything. He knows about the wedding invitations,
Jehan showed him their practice designs. They are all flowery words and curly
calligraphy, Jehan’s speciality.
“They have three cats,” Jehan continues. “Sara had
two and Jess had one too, but now Jess has moved in and they don’t get along.”
reaches out to refill his glass. “They’re getting married and they’ve only just
moved in together?” he says. “That’s a recipe for disaster.”
long distance for like…years,” Jehan says.
Love,” Jehan says decidedly.
opens his mouth.
shuts his mouth.
“But now,” Jehan chatters. “Now Jess has to
find a new home for her tomcat, because he just can’t deal with not being the
only cat and Parnasse you’d love him.”
immediately throws themself forward to hug their boyfriend’s knees and they
look up at Montparnasse from behind a scattering of red curls. That’s just
cheating on so many levels.
“He’s majestic, Parnasse.”
“No.” He is
not falling for this. He is not being tricked into getting a cat.
landlady is allergic to cats.”
actually,” Jehan points out.
“My answer is no,” Montparnasse grits.
have such a nice big apartment!” Jehan says enthusiastically. “And I’m here so
often we would totally be taking care of him together.”
is a seriously cool name for a cat, but- “No!”
pouts. They pout.
“Jehan I am
not taking in a cat,” he says, trying to make his voice as stern as possible. “If
you think I am going to go through life covered in cat hair-” He huffs
black,” Jehan interrupts.
Jehan clarifies. “He’s black. So you won’t even see it on 99% of your clothes.”
how cat hair works,” Montparnasse protests.
really well with your décor,” Jehan argues.
“And if he
lived here you could totally demand I come over at any time,” Jehan says,
batting their eyes.
“I will not
be bribed into adopting a cat,” Montparnasse insists.
don’t understand…” Jehan whines, dragging
themself off the floor until they are practically draped across Montparnasse’s
lap. “I love him.”
now the cat is competition.
I go over there I see him and Jess says no one wants him and I just… You could
just come with me once? To meet him. To see if you like him? Please?”
face is positively contorted. There is no way. No way in hell. Under no
circumstance will he- “I’ll go with you to meet the stupid cat,” he grunts.
wriggles so violently with happiness Montparnasse has to grab them so they
don’t fall off his lap and onto the floor.
I’m running late. This is a fairly common occurrence. I’m the sort of person that everything has a knack for going wrong around. Ebb is used to it though, so luckily I know I’m not going to lose my job because I woke up this morning a half hour later than I’m supposed too. After throwing on the first pieces of clothing I find (my ex-girlfriend’s purple lacrosse sweatshirt and some ripped jeans) I rush out of my apartment and into the elevator. I haven’t even brushed my hair, or eaten breakfast, or even glanced in the mirror this morning so of course it’s the morning when my perfect, snobbish neighbor decides to make an appearance.
“Snow,” he nods his head as I rush into the elevator, my messenger bag catching on the doors and almost getting caught as they close. His long black hair is combed back neatly, his perfect eyebrows arched at my bedraggled, somewhat noisy appearance. Merlin, I hate him. Even his jeans look better on him than a normal person, clean and well-fitted.
“Baz” I pant back, trying to catch my breath from my sprint to the elevator. Fuck, I need to start eating healthier. But Ebb’s cherry scones are so good, and I can eat as many as I want. Perks of working at the cafe. The elevator starts moving.
“How’s the girlfriend?”
“Crowley, Snow. I’m just trying to have a polite conversation.”
Baz hates my girlfriend (ex-girlfriend). And he hates smalltalk. He already knows we broke up, he would have heard her last week when she ended it and is just trying to rub it in. (Baz is always complaining about the thin walls between our apartments. But I’m not the one playing violin at ridiculous o’clock in the morning so he has nothing to complain about).
“For fuck’s sake Baz I’m already having a shitty day. I’m late for work and I don’t need to have to deal with you along with that-”
As I say that the elevator groans and shudders to a stop. I glance at the screen. It’s stuck at a three on the screen. The doors don’t open.
“Just my luck,” Baz mutters.
I don’t spare him a glance, rushing to the doors and pressing the floor button rapidly. The elevator doesn’t respond. No no no no no. This cannot be happening.
“Aleister, Snow, maybe if you try pressing the button one more time it’ll work?” I glance up from where I’ve collapsed onto the floor in front of the rows of buttons. Baz is leaned against the elevator wall, arms crossed, smirking. Merlin I hate him.
“The elevator’s not going anywhere Snow,” he continues. He pulls out his phone from his jeans pocket.
“No but I’m going to be late!”
He scoffs. “To that stupid job at Ebb’s cafe? Good riddance.”
“Fuck off Baz!”
“Trust me if I could I would- shit”
“What?” I get up at his pause and move over to try and see the phone he’s glaring at.
He pushes me away as I lean closer.
“I don’t have service which means I can’t call anyone to fix this mess. Do you have your phone?”
“Of course.” I reach into my bag to grab it.
“Crowley Snow just get the fucking phone I have places to be as well.”
“I don’t have it”
“What” he stares at me, eyes narrowing.
“I-” I think back to this morning, me running around the apartment in a maddening hopeless race to be on time.
“I woke up late this morning, I forgot it”
He swears again when I say that.
“Look it’s not like I want to be stuck here with you either!” I start.
“No Snow! Do you realize that it could be fucking hours before old Davy or Miss Possibelf on third floor realize the elevator isn’t working?”
“Maybe what? Huh?” Baz is totally flipping out. I mean, he always hates me but he’s never lost his cool like this.
He’s pacing the length of the elevator and running his long fingers through his hair. Fuck, I’m going to be so late. Ebb is gonna hate me. Also I’m probably not going to get any sour cherry scones. My stomach growls and Baz stops his pacing and turns to glare at me.
“What? I didn’t eat breakfast.”
“I was running late!”
He runs his hands through his hair.
“Crowley Snow how thick can you be? You’re seriously concerned about breakfast right now? We are stuck. In an elevator. That’s maybe, maybe ten feet square. And you’re concerned about breakfast.”
A thought occurs to me.
“Baz? Are you- Are you claustrophobic?”
“Shut the fuck up Snow.” He sighs and leans against the wall again. At least he’s not pacing. But Merlin, Baz, perfect, put-together, prissy Baz is claustrophobic. I don’t know what to do with that information.
It’s not that I’m claustrophobic exactly. I just can’t be stuck in here with him. My messy, loud, frustratingly adorable neighbor. And now he’s practically giving me heart eyes because he thinks I hate tight spaces. I need to do something to get him to stop.
He opens his mouth to say something, probably something stupid cause it’s Snow.
“Is it physically possible for you to be quiet for even one minute Snow?”
His face turns red.
“Well what if I don’t want to be quiet?”
“Really Snow? I’m stuck in an elevator with you the least you could do is shut up.”
“Well if you weren’t so fucking-” he pauses, hands floundering, searching for words.
I’ve always found this interesting. Snow gesticulates more than he speaks. If he tried to say what he meant all the time he’s flounder for days before he got the words out of his mouth.
“Fucking what? Snow? If I weren’t so fucking what?”
I smirk and lean back. “Wow, that’s a big word. Penny teach you that one?”
He glares at me. I know I’m mean. I’ve heard Penny talk to him about speech therapy before. But it’s so entertaining to rile him up, watch him get messier and bigger and greater. He comes alive when he has someone to fight. It’s beautiful to watch.
“If you weren’t so antagonistic,” he says again, “then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be stuck in here with you.”
“Yeah, or if you weren’t so annoying,” I mutter.
“What do you have against me anyway?” he asks. His eyes trail away from mine towards the floor.
Just then a knock on the metal doors interrupt us.
“This is Fire and Rescue! You guys okay in there? We got a call about some disturbance in the elevator? People complaining about the noise?”
I keep my eyes on Simon as he perks up and rushes to the doors.
“Yeah!” he yells. “We’re, uh, we’re stuck. The doors won’t open and the elevator isn’t, uh, moving, i think.”
“You think?” I mutter. He glares at me.
“It must be sweet Simon and that Basilton in there, always fighting those two,” I hear Miss Possibelf whisper. Of course she called. She’s always getting up in other people’s business.
“Alright,” the fireman says against the doors. “How many of you are there?”
“Uh, two” Simon replies. He glances at me.
“Okay, just try not to kill each other til we get you out alright?” The fireman bangs on the door once. “It shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes.”
“No promises.” I reply, too softly for the fireman to hear.
I hear a creak and a groan as the fireman starts to do whatever he’s doing to get us out. We’ve already been in here for half an hour, according to my phone.
“What is wrong with you?” Simon turns to me, eyes blazing.
“Wrong with me?”
“Yeah. What the fuck is your problem with me? You’ve been like this ever since I moved in here and I am sick of it. I’ve given you no reason to hate me but you do.”
Oh, Simon, I think, if only I could hate you.
“I mean, sure I’m not the best neighbor. And yeah I’m a mess. But I’m not- I’m not fucking playing the fucking violin at three in the morning. And I’m not eavesdropping on private conversations. Oh, and yeah Agatha broke up with me so just rub that in my face while you’re at it. Happy? But I mean, if either of us has a reason to hate each other I think it should be me and I don’t hate you. You’re too-” He pauses, sucking in air. I don’t think he’s ever said so much at once.
“Too what?” I ask quietly.
“Perfect, Baz. You’re too bloody perfect.”
And then I’m moving forward and my hands find his cheeks and my mouth finds his lips and I have him up against the doors of the elevator and I can’t think because why is he so beautiful and messy and glorious. I should not be doing this, but I can’t help it anymore. I can’t fucking help it anymore. And then Simon moves his hands into my hair and he’s pushing his mouth back against mine and it’s so, so good.
I pull back, gasping, and press my forehead against his, looking at his blue, blue eyes. “I don’t hate you Simon. I wish I could, because you’re- fuck you’re bloody annoying and messy and loud, but it’s beautiful Simon. So yeah, I don’t hate you. I- I love you Simon.”
His eyes grow wide, and I can feel my cheeks turning red before he’s pulling me back into him, kissing me hard. I lean into him, my eyes closing as I melt into the sensations. I’m kissing Simon Snow.
And then there’s a loud clunk and the doors fall open. In a rush we both topple out, a tangle of limbs sprawled on the floor. Miss Possibelf, Old Davy, and the fireman stare down at us in surprise. Simon grins his gorgeous grin and blushes a glorious shade of red. I smirk from where I’m settled on top of us and look at the fireman.
“I believe we owe you a thank you for getting us out of there. Even if it took ridiculously too long.”
The fireman just blinks down at me, sprawled over Simon, whose lips are obviously swollen from kissing.
“But you were- the yelling? What?”
“Ah, yes, we’ve figured that out. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have places to be.” I pull Simon up and tug him forwards, dragging him up the stairs and towards my apartment.
I hear quiet murmurs from the people we’ve left behind, specifically the fireman, who shakes his head and mutters, “What the fuck.”
A/N: Okay, quirk isn’t the word I would
use for some of the headcanons I put down, but bear with me. Writing
“interesting headcanon” didn’t have the same ring to it. Also the gif destroyed me for a good ten minutes and I’m still laughing as I post this.
Quirk: His sock drawer is spick
n’ span, despite the rest of his room being a complete mess (You
know, genius mind)
Hobby: Has a secret love for
playing nerdy card games/collecting card (He’d totally be a pokemon
lover in a modern AU and have an extensive knowledge of how each card
works and have a killer stategy. Seriously, don’t challenge him.)
Quirks: Doesn’t have a lot of
hair, very smooth, babylike skin.
Hobby: Really good at singing,
loves to rock out and perform songs at night in his room.
Quirk: Is actually blind, that’s
why he always where’s his shades/glasses. His bugs see for him.
Hobby: He loves to go camping
and exploring through the woods. It’s a peaceful atmosphere with
little noises, which helps given the intensity of his four remaining
Quirk: Has hidden tattoos on his
body, all made of the same red paint that his fang markings are made
of. They’re all coming-of-age-related, and are all mostly on his
right upper arm.
Hobby: Loves to play frisbee on
his off time. (Dog boy af)
Quirk: Has a food eating curfew.
Although he won’t censor how much he eats through out the day, he’s a
strong believer in not eating for three hours before bedtime, and so
he’ll stop snacking at around six o'clock on a normal day.
Hobby: Loves any physical
activities, but has a special love for hiking and swimming. This is
why, when training, he is often stumbled across in the middle of
forests and near bodies of water.
Quirk: He is such a cat person.
You don’t even know.
Hobby: He likes to cook, and has
a natural talent for it. It’s something productive he can do on his
down time, which suits him, because he hates being lazy or
It’s taken a lot of malling over and really intensive hand on action—You know like Simon sweeping slick fingers over Jace’s insane six pack, and caressing his perfectly rounded ass for minutes on end—like seriously what even? Does angel blood like automatically ensure that you’re otherworldly gorgeous or something? Because totally unfair for Simon and all the other lowly mortals—But any how, all of that hard work has lead to Simon coming to the conclusion that Jace is most definitely the secret love child of James Dean—with that slicked back hair and his leather jacket that moves his shoulders just right—and Captain America himself, you know cause he’s constantly permeating superhero cockiness and has these eyes that fucking glide over Simon with a hunger that makes Simon’s skin prickle. Jace looks at him as if they were in the same league, hell like they were even playing the same sport. As if Jace was not in the baseball majors while Simon was warming the benches for some random ass curling team—Hell do curling teams even have enough people to warrant benches? And does New York even have a curling division, because no way in hell is Simon moving. He’s just got on good footing with Raphael’s clan, and has a sweet crib with Magnus—even if Simon suspects Magnus would really appreciate the sudden increase of privacy so to be as loud as he’d like with Alec—who’s surprisingly—
No, wait! Hold up! Simon is totally getting off track.
The point is that Jace looks like half leather bound bad boy and every kid’s envision of a superhero—While simultaneously being a secret dork who loves comics almost as much as Simon, and is super obsessed with counting his calories and having a minimal of three hours cardio every day. (Which actually ends up being quite fun since he’s begrudgingly conceded that Simon’s form of exercise would just have to do.)
“I’m…gonna…be late,” Jace pants out, punctuating each breathless word with another kiss along Simon’s collar bone.
“Hmmm, c’mon dude—ooo,” Simon let’s out a little moan when Jace bites down—a teasing nibble. “Since when are you ever punctual?””
“Since before I ever made the grave decision to get involved with such a bad influence,” Jace nearly growls out—never unlatching his lips from Simon’s jawline.
“Hey goldilocks, I’m not making you do anything,” Simon needles, raising his hands placatingly, A far too innocent smile swept over his face as if he did not just cant his hips upwards so their denim clad erections buck up against each other.
“You’re a menace,” Jace groans out, collapsing his head onto Simon’s shoulder, making him laugh as he cards a hand through Jace’s hair.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. And your the guy who’s parabatai is leading this whole meeting thing, so What’s the big deal if you’re just a little late because you’re totally getting some from your mega hot vampire boyfriend!”
At that, Jace stiffens, just slightly—a sudden tautness stranding the once easy ambience that has begun to surround them ever since they admitted their pitifully hidden feelings for one another after a particularly nasty battle against Sebastian and his demonic minions.
It’s been at least a month, but Simon swears that he can still taste the snow flakes that cascaded across Jace’s irresistibly scarlet lips, and can still feel the way everything just clicked into focus after Simon just finally told him that if Jace had gotten hurt in any serious way Simon wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Never being one to pass up a grand gesture, Jace promptly just crashed their lips together in a cacophony of teeth and tongue and spit. It was messy and startling and awkward before they finally adjusted themselves into a more comfortable position—one where Jace’s nose wasn’t stabbing against Simon’s eye, or his arms weren’t trapped between their ribcages. But even if he had the chance, Simon wouldn’t change the moment in the slightest—even if he’s pretty sure they both would’ve gotten frost bite if they were not a vampire and part angel respectively—Because it was all them, all their hesitated words and nervous mutterings finally culminated into something worth a million lifetimes.
“I should go,” Is all Jace manages out while tugging on the combat boots that Simon had abashedly presented to him as a Hanukkamass gift. (What can he say, even his devoutly jewish grandfather loved him his reindeer cookies and Christmas trees as much as he did his dreidel and retellings of the eight plagues—combining the two holidays was the only plausible option.)
“Ah, okay…” Simon sits up so to slide in-between Jace and the wall of his sparsely embellished room. (Simon would reason that all Shadowhunters are minimalist in their decorating prowls if he did not know that Izzy owned three different types of fairy lights that she draped up with gusto, depending on the major holiday of that season.) “So you’re allowed to be a cocky shit, but the second that I call myself sexy you get all broody—“
Jace’s brows shoot up in flabbergasted shock.
“What! Simon! NO no nO!” Jace wobbles out as he whips his head to meet Simon’s gaze straight on—And yeah, Simon may or may not be so totally amused at how much of a scared puppy he looks right now.
“Bro, I know! Chill,” Simon all but guffaws, very nearly keeling over and toppling off of Jace’s bed.
His lips twist up in annoyance. “I’m not your bro,” he scoffs, moving to tug on his T-shirt and jacket.
“NO, no you most definitely are not,” Simon amends, a far too fond smile tilting the corners of his lips. And he’s sure that his eyes are doing that dazed, adoring thing that they only get when around Jace—But he doesn’t even mind how sappy that is. “You are my adorably flustered boyfriend, who I thought agreed to move past the monosyllabic sentences.”
“Simon, just because I’m not prone to speaking essay length diatribes about whatever injustice I’m feeling is particularly bad that day—like you—Doesn’t mean I only speak one word at a time.”
“Kay, first of all point, even though my essay long diatribes so totally make your days a million times brighter.”
“Never said they didn’t.”
Simon can’t help his preening at that. “Yeah, well no matter how precious your little admission is—that doesn’t help you skirt around the second point. You are not as wily as you’d like to think Lightwood.”
“And what’s that second point Simon?”
“That we agreed to not keep secrets after that whole fairy incident—“
“Yeah, well I would’ve liked some warning before seeing that prick rub himself all over you right in front of me,” Jace mutters darkly—his eyes getting steely, the way they always do whenever Simon or one of their friends bring up that total mess of a mission to poke fun at how jealous the great and mighty sex god Jace Lightwood could get.
“Bro, we weren’t even dating—We just agreed to be friends after we agreed how immature that pissing match over Clary was. You totally had no right to curl up behind me and pretend that I was already taken.”
“I have no regrets, that fay was a total sleaze ball, and again. I most definitely am not your bro.”
Simon has half a mind to bring up that Jace was kinda a sleaze ball at that time too—Okay, well not really. Just a big, emotionally inept dork who had no idea how to tell Simon that he was totally hot for him. Simon’s pretty sure that Maia still thinks that Jace is that guy he postured around pretending he is, but Simon knows better. Jace is a big marshmallow who had a really shitty father who practically taught him from birth that loving anyone was signing your death warrant. Honestly, Simon is shocked that they’ve gotten this far in what’s objectively a pretty short amount of time. Whenever Simon brings up this little observation to Jace, he just continues on tracing the love rune onto Simon’s shoulder (And yeah, Simon so totally knows it’s the love rune but still hasn’t admitted to Jace that he memorized the rune book like the first week that Valentine was arrested and they actually had a moment to breathe.) and tucks his head a little deeper into the crook of Simon’s neck and shoulder.
“You’re you,” he would cautiously admit into the depth of the night—a pink tint touching the tops of his impossible cheekbones, and his heartbeat fluttering about a million times faster, Making Simon’s insides feel like molten lava.
“Okay, we’ll return to that particular argument later on, you know after you tell me what’s really bothering you.”
Simon almost expects Jace to just mutter out an “I’m fine,” and swagger away, leaving the sent of his blue Calvin Klein and about a million more questions in his wake. But he doesn’t storm off. Instead, he collapses back onto the duvet besides Simon—resting his head against the wall, and looking up at him from underneath his spider leg lashes.
“I’m scared that you’ll think I’m insane or warped.”
At that, Simon practically flails around so to sprawl himself half over Jace, and locks their hands together—squeezing them so he knows that Simon is right there. “That’s impossible Jace, Nothing you could say could make me think that.” When it looks like his resolve is wavering, Simon just squeezes harder. “I’m not going anywhere.” It’s as close to an “I love you,” that either of them have ever gotten with each other—both to terrified that if they move to hard and fast with what they have, karma or providence or whatever shit show that’s been fucking up their lives so immensely will catch wind and ruin all they’ve built. So they never say it—Just reminding the other that he’s there, and he’ll never leave.
I—I’ve been having these dreams,” Jace admits, puncturing the precarious hush that has hugged around them—a stillness that once unnerved Simon, until he found that his center felt a lot more balanced whenever he was tangled into Jace’s embrace.
“Dreams?” Simon prods, gently—knowing all too well how difficult this is for the ordinarily stoic and ever proud Lightwood to do—allowing himself to admit acknowledge his weaknesses to anyone, let alone the one person who could probably destroy him without effort.
“About Valentine, and Sebastian. About my childhood I guess…The thing is it wasn’t all bad all the time. He was the only father that I knew—A father who made me spaghetti, and gave me my first Seraph Blade and read me bed time stories-“
“Yeah, stories about love being the worst type of cancer, and how killing makes you strong. Oh! And let’s not forget his stance on corporal punishment and-“
“Simon,” Jace’s laugh is something light and soothing, a beautiful sound that is far too amused by how heated Simon is getting over the thought of anyone hurting Jace—especially a little ten year old version of him who couldn’t wait to be best friends with a falcon until his chickenshit of a father snapped it’s neck right in front of him.
“I’m sorry, I just don’t want you to get diluted into thinking that man isn’t a complete monster.”
His lips turn up into a small, almost sad smile. “Trust me Simon, I know—It’s just weird. I mean all this time he’s had another son he hid away from me. I just wonder sometimes if I knew, if I found him while training in the woods or something…Maybe Sebastian could’ve turned out different, you know? Maybe we could’ve escaped somehow? Or he could’ve moved in with the Lightwoods with me and he’d be on our side.”
Oh, and there it is.
Right when Simon thought he’s got Jace all figured out, the dude decides to throw him a total curve ball, showing just how compassionate and good he truly is.
“A dumb thought, yeah?”
“Hey, no shut your mouth. This is not my “Jace has a dumb thought,” face, I have that when you don’t think I could totally rock leather pants.”
“I just said that wasn’t you’re style, not that I wouldn’t thoroughly enjoy the view.”
Simon hurdles on as if Jace hadn’t spoken. “This my far too open hearted boyfriend is my besotted face.”
“It just sucks, the thought of what could’ve been. I or Clary even—We could’ve had an actual brother, and he could’ve been human and happy and normal—I just feel guilty, and sad and I hate Valentine so much for all the ways he ravaged everything that ever got in his way.”
His voice tapers off to something quieter and more contemplative, like he’s lost himself in his own idealistic prospects of some sort of elusive life that they’ll never know.
Gingerly, Simon cups a hand over his cheek, and presses a feather light kiss onto his lips. A reminder over anything else.
“Runaway with me,” he mouths against him, causing a small, beautifully delighted peal of laughter to pour from him.
“And where do you think we’d go Simon?” Tendrils of warmth curl around Simon’s stomach at the sound of Jace sting his name like that—like something precious and fragile and so so vital—like a prayer.
“I don’t care, just anywhere with you—And preferably wifi if that’s an option,” he rectifies after a thought.
“You’re insane,” Jace chuckles ruefully.
“And there’s nothing you could’ve done. Valentine kept you guys apart for a reason Jace.”
“And what’s that?” HE challenges with hiked brows.
“Because he knows that you are good, and was afraid that you would’ve inspired even someone infected with demonic poison to be better. Cause that’s what you do Jace, you make us all want to be better and stronger and inspire us that we can do it. That we can be like you.”
The kiss Jace gives him right then is something this edge of desperate and amazing.
“No matter what—I’m pretty sure that we would’v ended up here—in this bed…doing this over and over again.”
“Yeah-Yeah, I bet you say that to all your bedfellows.” Simon teases, but kissing back with as much fervor.
“NO, just you. always you.”
And yeah that is so totally sappy but Simon doesn’t mind, because he feels the same.
Good thing Alec is Jace’s parabatai, because he never does end up getting to that meeting.
And they do end up running away together—It’s just for a weekend at some winery upstate that Rebecca told Simon about. But it was probably the funnest get away in Simon’s life—Even if Magnus, and Alec, and Clary, and Izzy all end up crashing it half way through.
Request: f(x)’s Krystal being jealous of how much time her gf is spending with Jessica, please? I’d appreciate it if you based it on this detail: the gf is an eldest child who is used to taking care of others and just loves having a big sister, so she doesn’t even realize that she’s neglecting Krystal.
Him changing all the chairs in his labs to benches so you can tinker together. Additionally him realising you are very willing to put your head in his lap and take a nap (He secretly loves playing with your hair as he works though)
You sleeping in his bed when you were scared of the dark, the arc reactor is the best night light
You pretending to be scared or need something so that he’ll go to sleep
Him being very protective of you
Being very protective of him
(You totally didn’t throw a pillow at cap when he first came to the complex after civil war nope no way) (okay… but seriously, it was a pillow! he’s a super soldier! come on dad!)
Being friends with the avengers
You scolding Steve about civil war ( and Tony but less so)
Them listening to you because you have a more objective and calmer view
Calling Steve your “almost grandad” because he got kissed by Maria once in 1940
You learning cool skills and Languages from the avengers
Playing with Clints children
Clint and Natasha telling Tony and Pepper that “the kids don’t like it when mommy and daddy fight,” when they’re having an argument that almost breaks them up, and them reconciling so fast, when they hear your quiet “they really don’t”
Giggles when he kisses your forehead because his goatee tickles
Him finally having an out let for his affection
Never having to worry about whether he loves you or not because he makes it very clear (having to worry about him stopping hugging you for one second so you can get stuff done)
Him glowing when you say he was your hero before he was iron man
Him crying when you tell him he’s really a good father because he worried he’d be like his own
You telling him that it’s genetic when he compliments you
You not being able to stop yourself hugging him when he says “I sound like my dad,”
Learning how to cook, because he always eats anything you make him.
Him being 10000000000% supportive of anything you want to do ( because his dad never allowed him to explore anything other than the family business)
you want to be a mermaid? He teaches you how to swim
You want to be an astronaut? He takes you star gazing
You want to be a fairy? He finds a fairy walk
Basically him using all of your passions to find free activities for you to do together ( free because he is very wary about spoiling you )
Him having all your drawings and report cards pinned to a memo board in his lab
Him always carrying like eight photos of you in his wallet and showing them to random employees “and that’s her with her winning science project, first place, she wouldn’t even let me help”
Him always doing everything for you himself like putting up your book shelves and painting your room together instead of hiring someone to teach you life skills
(Him having to look up youtube tutorials on how to put up book shelves whilst your distracted)
Every one being shocked at how down to earth and low maintenance you are
Him allowing himself to spoil you a little bit by getting your dream car/motorcycle for your birthday
(You both working on it to make it use cleaner energy)
Him trying his best to keep you out of the spotlight until you’re old enough to choose whether you want to or not
Him teaching you how to dance for charity galas
If Henry has 33-35 or so, Kane could be cs daughter cause she is like 27, very close to 20-22. And she is like a combination of Emma and Killian. I'm sure that the blond will not be cs daughter cause she is too Emma like, and I think they would prefer a cs combination.
Kane looks NOTHING like JMo or Colin. Her face shape nose shape mouth shape eyes shape and complexion are totally different. DARK HAIR DOES NOT A RESEMBLANCE MAKE. And Henry is not 35 seriously you guys are reaching so far to make this ridiculous theory of yours work.
It’s a seriously close call between this attractive bastard and Beyblade’s Kai for the title of “my first love”. How was my young an impressionable self supposed to resist those eyes? And such pretty hair *happy sigh* Trunks was truly blessed with some magnificent genes.
I totally made up the musculature lmao. I need to work on that…
I’m on a bit of a DBZ kick at the moment (you may have noticed). Bear with me whilst I work it out of my system…
Reason I’m thankful for Groundhog Day #478237: It functions as a calming mantra when you’ve had a extremely frustrating and exhausting day and keeps you from completely loosing your mind
*Seriously, it works. I work at a school for mentally challenged kids and today was kinda awful (one kid who never wants to drive her motorized wheelchair who throws things at me, another who tries to rip the hair out of my skull or dig her nails into me or slaps me like I’m in a trashy 80′s soap opera) and singing these quietly to myself kept me from hitting total burn-out and wanting to crawl into a hole to hide forever.
Bleach 685 “A Perfect End” Review (AKA the HAIR Chapter)
Okay, let’s make a deal, shall we? I know many of you (myself included) are incredibly disappointed about the abrupt end, about all the questions left unanswered etc, but until the series concludes, I have decided to enjoy as much of it as I can.
There will be ample time for complaints once the dust settles; for now, I just want to enjoy the ride till the end.
Not that we shouldn't criticize what happens in 685 and 686 in a couple of weeks, but I’m going to be focusing on the what we’re getting instead of everything we’re not, sound good?
Here we go then.
(also, does the title sound ominous to anyone else, or just me? >___>;;;)
So as I totally accidentally published the Christmas at Kirkmall ask (Accident because I like to try and draw stuff for my asks and i just wanted to write down all my thoughts on it to draw then when adding tags it published and i was like oh, thats what that button does, oops hahaha. I figured it only fair that i go in and publish all of them, even if its only with words! (I still want to try and draw everything even still tho haha)
Also! I just want to thank everyone for being so sweet and taking the time to send super rad messages and thoughts and all that <3 And also the likes and reblogs and super hilarious and sweet tags <333 You are all too rad!
But anyway presenting LONG POST OF TALKING!
I really need to draw Hawke punching more old people in the face. Like? That would make everyones life so much richer and more fulfilled??
Haha probably something to that effect! And then that would go into the whole like hacking social media accounts can get SO DANGER. much like magic??? idk but yeah mages r totally nerds and the templars would b the jock equivalent yes totes
YESSSS. That is coming and in the works! Just everyone hipsters at the mall because yessssss <3 Also for me everyone in Inquisition like, fits a modern au so perfectly
Oh Hawke definitely is. If anything she is the self proclaimed Champion of Kirkmall because she is vain and enjoys empty titles as much as Admiral Captain Isabela haha however everyone for some reason seems to love her and ask for her help with every stupid problem. No one has any idea why, but she gets the job done so no one really complains and is like omg ok we will call you champion w/e
Yesssssssssssssssss. Just yes. To all of this, so good! So accurate!
Oh of course hahaha omg basically <3 Flemeth just randomly appears everytime Morrigan trynna be cool and is just. So much cooler than her. Also for some reason I really want all of the Origins crew to be in a band, and Flemeth made Morrigan join even though she was like omg mom no they are all losers. (Leliana is like vocals and some hipster ass instrument like the ukelele, Zevran can be handsome sexy guitar, Morrigan can play bass, the Warden can sing and be lead guitar and Alistair can be like, triangle. For it is a hipster band you see. He insists to everyone he plays the drums quite well, Morrigan is like shutup u r triangle loser)
I think he would be a jack of all trades creative writing wise. Varric would try his hand at everything books, comics, EVERY GENRE UNDER THE SUN. Also omg Cullen would totally be in one of those just being a huge noodle haired nerd who is Merediths yes man. As time goes on and he grows as a person he is less yay Meredith and more like, Imma work in this nerdy ass game store that sells those fancy stone chess sets and all those stupid mind puzzles and Hawke is like, oh my goooooddddd why are you so boring stillllll.
All of these kind messages and thoughtful comments have drastically improved the quality of my life. <3 but like no seriously they totally have and all of you guys are the greatest and so sweet you deserve every happiness :)))))) (that sounds so dumb but like, dude for real you are all collectively the greatest!)
Is it just me or is there more testosterone than usual in
the Arrow lair these days? As much as I
love Oliver and Dig (and tolerate the newbies), I’ve missed having Thea and Lyla around. We also have yet to see much interaction between Felicity and Evelyn.
There aren’t many people that Felicity can really turn to
these days to communicate how she’s feeling, especially since Oliver and Dig
are preoccupied with their own issues. Seriously, the writers have admitted
that OTA is the “secret sauce.” Slather it all over this season and give us
what we love already, damn it!
Anyway, casting my fan fury aside, it would be so nice if Felicity
had a female BFF. Even when Thea, Laurel, Lyla, and Sara were in the lair, we got very
little interaction. Curtis has been there for Felicity, but he’s clearly
distracted being Mr. Terrific. Plus, there are just some things women can only
discuss with each other. I doubt this
will ever happen, but I thought it’d be fun to think up a list of questions a
female BFF would ask Felicity in Season 5. We’d probably get some really
truthful confessions and juicy deets!
~“Are you sleeping? Are you eating enough? Why do you look so upset all the time? Talk to me!”
~“You’re in fabulous shape. Have you been working
out? Who’s your trainer?”
~“Your eyes still light up when talking about
Oliver. Are you two getting back
~“Girl, why are you dating that sloppy detective
with the small hands? You could do so
much better. Run!”
~“Cute shoes! Where did you get them?”
~“I love your lipstick, but it’s smudged. Did you make a ‘mistake’ with Oliver again?”
~“Are you going to try and get your company
back? That Mr. Dennis was such a jerk.
Totally threatened by you!”
~“Are you starting your own company? I think it’s a fabulous idea.”
you should grow your hair out. Don’t you
miss your long, luxurious golden locks? I’d kill for your hair.”
inventions have you been working on? Can you please invent a program that does
automatic background checks on my dating app matches? Too many creeps out there. Speaking of
creeps, that detective…”
~“Seriously, when are you and Mayor Handsome getting
back together? Better get your man
before someone else does.”
~“Felicity, you are awesome. Want a hug?”
Feel free to add on to the list, guys! Make it as fun or serious as you want.
NOTES/WARNINGS: Nothing really; maybe a warning for cheesiness?
“C’mon! We’re going to be late!” your best friend Elizabeth calls to you, even though you are both, in fact, 30 minutes early.
“Alright, alright I’ll be there,” I say, while stepping off the subway. Liz and you both walk up the steps into one of the many lively New York streets. Liz goes off to get money from an ATM and you stand there wishing more than anything that you could stand there and get lost in this crowd of people rather than partake in one of the most embarrassing spectacles of your life. (Because, despite your best friend’s protests, attending a bachelor auction would be one of the most embarrassing spectacles of your life.)
Request by anon: Hai! If your requests are open can you do a fic were the reader, Sam and Dean are on a hunt but it goes terribly wrong. During the hunt reader gets electrocuted (almost like how Dean did in s1) while hunting the monster. She collapses/ passes out. And the boys do everything they can to get her to a hospital quickly? Whether she survives or not is up to you!
Dean woke up when sunlight streamed in through a crack in
the curtains. He squinted and rolled over to see what time it was.
He groaned and sat up, glancing over at the other bed.
Surprisingly, Sam was still asleep, though Dean couldn’t blame him. To Sam,
being with you was more important than a run or getting up early with the sun
or whatever the hell he did before the sun made its appearance. It was so
obvious that his little brother had a crush on you, no matter how many times he
adamantly denied it. You were a little more difficult to read, though Dean was
pretty sure that you felt the same way. Once this hunt was over, Dean was going
to have to do something about that situation. Sam needed a little push to get
over his insecurities. You were definitely not like all of the other women he
fell for; you could handle it.