should i send it to him or no

curly-haired-wizard  asked:

Frank: NEVILLE! How is Hogwarts?! How's your cousin Harry?! How is herbology? Are you're professors good? Ahh I'm so happy you're home! *hugs him tightly*

Neville: Well most of them anyway.

Frank: He’s had a problem with you is more like it.

Neville: But it’s nothing you haven’t taught me to handle!

Frank: That’s my little Longbottom! Any other ones I should send your mother over to hex?

((Frank: @curly-haired-wizard))

Johnkat story time:

Sometimes john will pick up things that remind him of karkat and send them to him before he gets home, but theyre never right or just plain silly

and karkat wants to cry because its cute

John made Karkat a card

and karkat’s first response was to call him because:

“JOHN I DONT KNOW IF YOU LOST YOUR GLASSES BUT THESE ARE LOBSTERS NOT CRABS, THERE IS NOTHING VERY ‘CRABTIVATING’ ABOUT THEM”

“ But, you are my long crab 

and the longest crab I know is a lobster

 plus it was cute :)”

“WELL ITS GOING ON DISPLAY FOR EVERYONE TO RIDICULE AND I JUST THOUGHT I SHOULD WARN YOU OF YOUR POO BRAINED MISTAKE”

“Yeah, but I’m sure it made you smile, so I’ll take it.”

and Karkat just sighs because John is right

he loves the lobsters and how John scrawled “ You are so very crabtivating ♥” with the shittiest drawn crab in the corner

with a little message saying

“sorry I cant draw, but I love you very much so I tried!”

helloooooo everybody, i’m naomi (he/him) ! i’m nineteen and from the gmt timezone !before i go ahead and say anything, you should know i’m down for any and all plots your heart desires, so like this post or send me a message if your interested ! this is a little introduction into calvin, he’s a fucking mess but if you’re interested in finding out more just hit that read more button ! if you don’t need a look into his backstory, just skip to the personality section !

Keep reading

depressed-in-dusk  asked:

Don't let an anonymous cunt tell you stuff he wants to share because in reality he needs to tell those things to himself. No one cares about him and that's why he needs to call attention on your blog. If he doesn't even dare to send the ask without the anon, you might as well ignore that bastard. Let him cry, sending you hate is the best part of his day since no one cares for him

No I’m not going to harm anyone, in any way. Even he/she doesn’t deserve pain. Don’t talk that bad about that person, you don’t know who it is. Maybe it’s a beautiful person that only has something against me. Just like everyone can hate someone, but that doesn’t define their personality. I don’t say what he/she does okay and acceptable because it isn’t. It really hurts. But that doesn’t mean we should hurt that person too.
I love you, and I know why you hate on that person so much. I would do the same if he/she was hating on you. But that person is hating on me, I deserve it and i can’t live with someone being hurt because of me.
I love you so much. Sorry for being myself.

7

kinda about that question about how long ago did someone last told keith they loved him

lance confesses kinda in a nonchalant way (keith thought it was platonic lol)

later keith tells everyone else he loves them and they say they love him back and lance is in the background seething silently in rage and jealousy (”we had a bonding moment! you caressed my face!!!”)

Here’s my dadsona August Rayne! He’s always tired and does a lot of art. He really loves Amanda too (okay but who doesn’t?)

Bonus with DamienxDadsona: 

I really like Tormund as a character, I like that he is brave and smart enough to join forces with his enemies to save his people. I love that he is into Brienne and considers her attractive and wants to have her babies. I would consider shipping him with Brienne IF she showed any sign that the feeling is somewhat mutual.

But all she shows is revulsion and embarrassment, you know, the same way most women do when they’re being catcalled by some random creep they never talked to.

It troubles me that people are finding it sweet, because he’s a good guy and no one really finds her attractive at first sight but him, so it must be true love, right? I mean, what are we really telling each other here? We’re sending the message that if you’re considered unattractive and believe no one can love you for who you are, you should totally hook up at the first guy who thinks you’re hot, even if you are creeped out by the way he leers at you from the very first moment.

I can also understand why some people don’t want to see Jaime ending up with Brienne, because she deserves so much better and he is such a damaged soul, with a sordid past, etc. I get it and I respect it. In real life I’d probably advise Brienne to run away from that guy, too. 

But the difference is…. no matter the objections we can come up with, Brienne is very interested in Jaime. And he is also very interested in her. 

I think mutual interest, affection, respect, admiration, willingness to sacrifice themselves for the other, companionship, etc. should be something absolutely mandatory when you ship two characters, regardless of their faults. If one of them is lacking, then he/she really shouldn’t be in that ship to begin with.

Neighbors


Inspired by Shawn’s recent Instagram story and this line:

“Wanna, like– I mean, if you’re not busy… We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?”


She sighed, looking around the mess that is her new apartment. Her back hurt, her arms were burning and she was so exhausted, she felt like passing out.

“Where do these boxes go, hun?” her dad asked, holding up a box with “books” written on it.

“Just put those in my bedroom, thanks,” she replied, taking a sip from the beer her best friend had handed her.

Moving into your new fancy place in Toronto could be really awesome but also very tiring and she groaned, seeing all the boxes in her living room she had to unpack.

Her best friend put an arm around her shoulders and as if she could read her friend’s mind she said: “Hey, the view makes this bearable, don’t you think?”

She grinned at her friend, squinting her eyes a little because the sun is shining bright on the balcony. “Yeah, true. The view made me buy this!”

“So… when’s the housewarming party?” her friend asked, raising her perfectly arched eyebrows.

The girl shrugged. “I have to put actual furniture here first. And clean up. And decorate.”

“Yes, yes, Miss to-do-list, I get it. It has to be perfect, I know. As always,” her friend stated, rolling her eyes.

They laughed as they go back inside and she knew she’s nowhere near done yet but she already feels at home. It’s a warm feeling. And she knew this is where she belongs.


Three weeks later

She’s on her way to the elevator, carrying a bag with groceries and another shopping bag from H&M because she just couldn’t resist buying that cute dress and the sweater she really needed as the concierge calls her name.

“Excuse me, Miss!”

She turns around. “Yes?”

“Could I ask you for a favor, please?”

She smiles a little, nodding. “Yeah, sure.”

“I have a parcel for… um,” he looks at the box, “Mister Shawn Mendes. Your neighbor. I know he hasn’t been home for quite a while but could you just take this for me? I have no space to store this and I would have asked Mrs. Johnson from 310 c but she would just forget about it, you know how she is…”

He smiles at her apologetically and she nods again. “Yeah, I can take it. I mean… I haven’t seen my neighbor yet and I don’t know him but I guess it’s a nice way to say hello”

“He’s very nice. You’ll get along perfectly,” the concierge says with a smirk. “You are both young and so hardworking! And both charming young things.”

She smiles back. “Yeah, we’ll see about that and um… thanks!”

She takes the parcel, briefly looking at it in the elevator. It says “Armani headquarters” on it and it got sent all the way from Milan. She raises her eyebrows a little.

Must be nice being a superstar. Getting free designer stuff all the time.

She felt a bit insecure when she found out who her neighbor was. 

Living door to door with a teenage pop sensation slash superstar could be a bit frightening, knowing how famous he really was.

She dreaded the thought of having lunatic fangirls standing in front of her door, screaming and shouting Shawn’s name but so far it has been very quiet and she hasn’t seen him yet as he was probably busy being the good looking popstar he was, traveling the world, making girls scream wherever he went.

She didn’t really get the hype. 

Her best friend freaked out when she found out who the mysterious neighbor was, making her want to move in with her. 

Or camping on Shawn Mendes’ doormat.

But the girl living in the condo next to him, didn’t get too excited. Sure, he was good looking and talented and cute and all of that.

But she didn’t understand how people could scream and shout, seeing him, shoving phones into his face for a selfie when he was just a regular person who happened to sing and play the guitar.

She didn’t understand until she saw him. In person.

It was a Saturday and she knew he was home.

There were footsteps in the hall, male voices, sounds of a guitar and doors shutting and she took a deep breath, brushed her hair and ringed the bell.

She wasn’t wearing anything fancy, heck, she was in her gym shorts and a loose band shirt she got at a concert some time ago. And she was wearing fuzzy socks.

Not sexy at all.

And she regretted her outfit choice as soon as she saw him, standing in the doorframe, looking like a Greek God or something. A light stubble, messy brown curls sticking up slightly, wearing black pants and a white t shirt that fitted him well and as he looked at her, eyes a bit sleepy and a wry smile spreading across his plump lips, she had to swallow thickly.

He blinked twice.

She looked down at the parcel and up at him.

“Um… hi!”

“Hi,” he said in a deep, raspy voice, smiling down at her.

“I’m your new neighbor and I wanted to say hi and I have this parcel for you and um… yeah, hi…” she rambled, blushing a bit because he was looking at her in a way that made her nervous.

He was checking her out. Briefly looking her up and down and she squared her shoulders a little.
His gaze rested on her bare legs for a little bit too long and he bit his bottom lip in a way that made her heart flutter and race and she felt hot suddenly.

“Oh, thank you so much!” he smiled brightly, taking the parcel from her. It looked tiny in his hands. “And nice to meet you,” he added, stretching his hand out. “I’m Shawn”

She shook his hand, saying her name.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

He leaned against the doorframe, obviously not in a hurry to close the door.

“I just hope I don’t bother you with my music. I’m working on something right now and it can get a bit… loud,” he said with a smug grin, dipping his head a little, after nodding into the direction of his condo.

He was towering over her, playing with the parcel in his huge hands and she looked at his long fingers, noticing a silver ring on his middle finger. He was wearing a black watch that looked cool and expensive and she pressed her lips together. She understood it now. The hype. The fangirls.

He looked like a teenage dream. Almost as if he wasn’t real.

Too handsome for his own good.

She looked up at him. “No, um, all good. I don’t mind.”

He gives her a crooked smile, licking his sinfully plump lips. “Okay, good. Just tell me if it’s too loud… and if you need anything I’m right here,” he said in that soft voice of his she already found so endearing.

She awkwardly shifted her weight from one foot to another. “Yeah, thanks! Goes both ways… the if you need anything thing… not the music thing, obviously…”

She blushed and he smiled at her, running his fingers through his curls. “Yeah,” he replied, never breaking eye contact and she felt like dying on that door mat of his.

“Okay, so I should try this on, I guess,” he frowned, looking at the parcel and she nodded.

“Must be something nice… coming from Italy,” she smiled and suddenly regretted her words. “I only saw that it’s from Milan, I didn’t…”

He laughed and it sounded like the most beautiful thing she has ever heard.

“It’s okay! All good. Yeah, they send me awesome stuff now… it’s just really cool because I actually hate going shopping,” he chuckled, blushing himself.

She smiled at him. “Oh, I can’t relate. Shopping is my favorite hobby.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, well, that’s because you’re a girl… must be natural, eh?”

She laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I guess. So cliché.”

He smirked and she looked down, avoiding his burning gaze. “Okay, um… I’ll leave you alone now… so you can try your new stuff on and yeah…”

He smiled. “Okay, yeah, see you.”

“See you,” she breathed and tried to walk gracefully back into her condo.

Don’t trip, don’t trip. Don’t mess up.

She exhaled loudly, closing the door after her and let out a little groan.
She reached for her phone because she really needed to talk to her best friend now and she quickly typed OMG CALL ME into her phone, pressing send.


Shawn sighed in frustration, looking into his empty fridge.

Living alone was not as cool as he thought it would be. His clothes were dirty and scattered on the floor in front of his washing machine, there was nothing to eat and he missed his mom.

Coming back from tour to his new posh place felt good at first but now all he wanted was to go back to Pickering to eat his mom’s roast and he started to feel jealous of his little sister who got to sleep in a freshly made bed and eat home cooked food all the time.

He groaned, looking at the stove. There was no salt. He had used everything his mom had given to him and he looked down at the chicken he was trying to make taste somewhat eatable.

He bit down on his bottom lip, turning down the John Mayer song he was listening to.
He could go to the supermarket and actually buy food – and get mobbed in the process.

Or he could ask her.

He was pretty positive that she had salt in her perfectly tidy condo with a full fridge and nice flowers everywhere. She looked like a girl who had flowers in her apartment.

And nice pillows.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Those long, lean legs. Her nice ass, he got a good look at when she walked back to her condo.

The outlines of her obviously nicely shaped breasts through that grey band shirt and he licked his lips again.

He was feeling frustrated, coming back from tour. He was needy, antsy somehow and he had felt hot and bothered, closing the door after receiving his parcel.

Leaning against the door he had to cup himself through his pants adjusting his cock that had started to stir against his boxers that were getting all tight around his dick as she had turned around and he had watched her hips sway slightly.

There were thoughts in his head. Thoughts he shouldn’t have about a girl he didn’t know.
Inappropriate thoughts crossing his mind. About her. Naked. Moaning his name. Panting. Legs spread and back arched.

He tugged at his hair in desperation. He shouldn’t feel like this about a girl he just met but the way she blushed and rambled made him want to be dominant with her. Be rather rough. Take her from behind maybe because he loved that position and she would feel him deep inside of her.

He felt guilty, thinking that. She probably had a boyfriend anyway. And Shawn would leave for Brazil soon. So that was that.

He hesitated a bit before knocking on her door. But he took a deep breath, fixed his hair and knocked.

His heart started to race, hearing footsteps.

She opened the door and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants.

“Hi!” he said, his voice cracking a little. “So this thing about needing something came sooner than expected,” he said with an amused huff and she smiled up at him.

“Yeah, I guess?”

“Well, I just came home from tour and the only thing that is in my fridge is some mustard and disgusting smelling milk and I wanted to cook something but I ran out of salt,” he frowned a little, his cheeks turning pink. “That’s why I was wondering if - um – if I could borrow some?”

She nodded, giving him a beautiful genuine smile and his heart did a stupid little jumpy thing he didn’t know it could make until then.

“Sure! I got you.”

She turned around and he was about to drool. He shamelessly stared at her ass and he didn’t want to be like this. Lusting over her like some horny teenager. But he couldn’t help himself.
He totally had the hottest neighbor in all of Canada.

She came back from the kitchen. “There you go,” she smiled and his fingertips brushed over hers as he took the small package from her.

“Thank you so much! You saved me from starving! I mean I could always order pizza but I’m trying to impress my mom.”

She let out a soft giggle. “Good luck with the cooking, it smells like you burned something though.”

He looked over his shoulder in an alarmed way. “Oh, fuck, yeah, I should go look after that! Thanks again!”

And with that he ran back into his apartment, trying to save his dinner.


She looks at her freshly baked cupcakes and knows that there is no way she would eat all of that. She had baked too many cupcakes and couldn’t stop thinking about knocking on his door.

She found it way too cute how he had nothing in his fridge and here she was, practically surrounded by food.

That’s why she takes two cupcakes, arranging them on a plate. This time she is prepared. With gloss on her lips, wearing her favorite bra and a nice t shirt, denim jeans and flip flops. All wavy hair and bare tanned legs. She knocks. And waits.

Maybe he isn’t home.

She is about to turn around as she hears footsteps. And there he is.

Shirtless.

Fucking shirtless, only wearing some sweatpants he must have thrown over in a hurry.

“Hey,” he pants, looking at her, slightly confused.

“Hi! Oh. I’m sorry. Didn’t want to disturb!” she says, no, gasps.

He looks almost photoshopped. Ripped abs, defined v line, pecks and arms, defined and muscular. 

She swallows thickly, looking down.

He looks over his shoulder, an alarmed look on his face. “You aren’t! All good. Can I - er - help you?”

“No, no. I just baked those and have some left over and I thought you might like some?” she says tentatively, holding up the little plate.

He smiles in a genuine way, looking very grateful. But still tense.

“That’s so sweet. Thank you very much!”

He presses his lips together, hearing the high-pitched, female voice coming from his bedroom.

“Shawn? Who is that?”

A blonde girl comes up behind him, looking like she’s on the cover of Sport’s Illustrated or something, wearing nothing but a large men’s shirt.

And now she knows where his shirt is.

On some blonde bombshell with a D cup.

Silicone probably.

“Oh,” she squeals. “Cupcakes? Awesome!” the blonde girl grabs one, grinning at Shawn.

“Who’s that, Shawn? Your neighbor?”

Shawn looks flustered and his cheeks are red. As well as his ears.

“Yeah… that’s my neighbor.” He awkwardly introduces them and he shakes his head slightly - desperate -  at his pretty neighbor who looks shell shocked with her plate in hand.

As if he wanted to say no no she’s not my girlfriend. She’s just an one night stand. Meaningless. I swear. I was thinking about you all the time. Imagining you under me. Because you drive me crazy.

“Um-well,” she blurts out. “I should… leave, I’m sorry. Bye,” she hands Shawn the plate as if it had burned her and almost runs into her condo, leaving an embarassed Shawn behind.

He closes the door, groaning in frustration. That was not what he had planned. This shouldn’t have happened.

His one night stand should have left hours ago but she was clingy and annoying and Shawn was too polite to kick her out. But it was time now.

The blonde girl is nibbling on the icing of the cupcake and Shawn picks her clothes up, holding them up.

“Hun, I really should work now, sorry but… you know…” he says, sounding annoyed.

Her eyes widen. “Oh, I see,” she says, sounding ice cold. “I’ll leave. I get it.”

He sighs, turning around so that she could get dressed.

“Bye, Shawn! And don’t ever call me again! Asshole!” she spits out, leaving his place and he slams the door shut. 

“Yeah, bye” he snorts angrily. Just to huff a frustrated “fuck!” afterwards, letting himself fall onto his couch, hitting a pillow in frustration.


He slams his hand against her door. But she won’t open. Of course not.

“Hey! I know you’re home! Come on! Please! Open the door!” he yells.

He rings the bell again. Over and over until it starts to get annoying.

She opens the door with an annoyed huff.

“What?” she hisses. “I’m working on a paper and I need to concentrate. If you would stop ringing my doorbell- that would be nice. Thanks,” and she proceeds to slam the door into his face.

He’s quick, sliding a huge foot into the doorframe.

“No! Wait!”

She rolls her eyes at him, opening the door again.

“Your plate! Here!” he awkwardly holds it up, handing it over to her. “Tasted so good, really! Thank you!”

“Mhm,” she breathes out in an annoyed way. She isn’t exactly mad at him. She’s mad at herself. For believing that she would actually have the tiniest bit of a chance with this guy who looked like a young god and lived the superstar lifestyle. Fucking blonde bombshells included.

“She isn’t - that wasn’t - that girl is not my girlfriend,” he blurts out.

“I don’t care, Shawn”

“Okay. Just wanted to make that clear. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he frowns, brows furrowed, curls messy and bopping a little.

“What do you want to hear? I don’t care about your love life or whatever… we don’t even know each other.”

She looks him in the eye, looking dead serious.

He licks his lip nervously and steps closer so that he towers over her, hands on either side of the doorframe. He looks down at her and gulps, tilting his head a little. 

“Wanna, like– I mean, if you’re not busy… We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?” he asks, feeling his cheeks get bright red as well as the top of his ears and he shifts his weight from one foot to another.

She tilts her chin up a bit.

“I have to see about that - I actually am busy right now.”

She sounds distant and he sighs.

“Come on… please… I’d love to get to know you.”

She nibbles on her bottom lip. And he wants to kiss her so bad. Part those pretty lips with his and slip his tongue into her mouth. 

He wants, wants, wants her.

“Really?” she says, barely audible.

She knew there were girls out there who would sell their souls for this. A date with Shawn Mendes.

He nods. Eyes dark.

“I’m not who you think I am. I don’t have a different girl every night,” he says quickly.

“I know what you’re thinking. That I’m some stupid teenage star who has a lot of hook ups and gets drunk in fancy bars but I’m not!” he adds. “I’m a regular dude. Really.”

She shrugs. “I don’t really think ‘bout you so you’re good.”

His face falls. “O-okay, right, yeah. I shouldn’t have assumed that.”

His shoulders hang a bit as well as his head and he wants to turn around but she holds him back. “No wait! Sorry, that was kinda rude. I’m just- I mean… coffee would be nice,” she breathes out and his face lights up again.

It frustrates her how freaking adorable he looks like that, smiling, looking like a lovesick puppy.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean- it’s just coffee, right?”

“Just coffee,” he grins.

And he’s already so involved in this. He loves the chase. The thrill. And he can’t wait for what’s to come. 

always on my mind

Derek had a completely normal childhood.

He spent his first few months of kindergarten playing with a ginger-haired boy named Will. Will was awesome, he liked hockey as much as Derek did and knew all the presidents’ names and his favorite color was green. Derek remembers this. He remembers Will. He remembers Will being real.

Never mind that, after months of raving about his new best friend, his parents ended up slipping his name into their parent-teacher conference only for his teacher to say that there was no redhead named Will in his class.

Never mind that his parents spent weeks prodding Derek to find out who this Will was.

Never mind that they ultimately decided that Will was his imaginary friend.

Soon, Will started showing up at Derek’s house, when he was alone in his room. He was just a kid. He didn’t question it.

Will kept coming around – sitting next to him in class, in the corner reading with him at recess, playing card games with him after school, helping him with his math homework – far after his parents deemed it acceptable to have an imaginary friend.

Keep reading

((OOC: SpeakING OF INSTAGRAM! A friend turned me in to Viktor Nikiforov today because I was complaining about not having the wig… I’m crying what a pal <3)) 

3

BnHA Senior Portrait #9: Special Edition Jeans!Bakugou

Artist: JBadgr

________________________________

With the help of @poulerslashes, here is the hc behind this pic:

This is a photo commissioned by Best Jeanist to remind Bakugou of what an upstanding HERO should look like. Bakugou hates this photo. B.J. photoshops fake fashion ad campaigns and sends them to him daily. His mother has it plastered all over the house. It leaks to the school. UA advisories and student announcements are posted as blurbs on this photo. Kirashima and Sero have yet to stop laughing. It has been 6 days. Bakugou has destroyed 12 desks. 

________________________________

BnHa Portrait Series: #1 Uravity #2 Bakugou #3 Midoriya #4 Todoroki #5 Tokoyami #6 Kirishima #7 Kaminari #8 Mina

About Damn Time

Originally posted by canonspngifs

Anon request: could you please write a dean x reader fic where they end up locked in a confined space together that starts as annoyance but leads to more? and they’ve been hunting together a while but always had an antagonistic/teasing relationship to cover up that they have feelings for each other

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,000

Warnings: SMUT (that’s right, I wrote some smut. Can’t say it’s good, but it’s there) language, mention of death, minor angst, lots of sass

A/N: This is also for @wayward-marvel-sommer1196​‘s sarcastic writing challenge! Sorry I’m a little late - honestly I’m shocked and thrilled it didn’t take longer to finish this. Thanks for the fun challenge, and have a great semester, hun! (my prompt was "Oh, I offended you with my opinion? You should hear the ones I keep to myself…" and is in bold)

A/N/N: Look guys, a thing that isn’t firefighter Dean! It’s a miracle!

Keep reading

Imagine demon!Dean beating a guy up to death because he touched you and he got jealous. (Part 2)

Read Part 1 here!

“How-” you voice felt stuck in your throat “How do you know me?”

“He-” she glanced at the door, hesitating as if he could come in any given moment “Doesn’t matter.” she breathed out, shaking her head as if to shake the thought off and turned to leave.

But you weren’t having any of it “No” you breathed out, rushing to grab her arm “No, please.” you looked at her with pleading eyes, for the first time putting all feelings of jealousy aside “Tell me.”

“I-” she sighed, looking around nervously “He’s mentioned you.”

“He?” your hand fell on your side “Dean, right?”

“Yeah.” she pursed her lips and oh you knew that look very well, jealousy and envy “Without really wanting to, uh a couple times. Once or twice in his sleep and other during-” she stopped herself, shrugging and now it was your turn to feel that unpleasant burn inside your chest “I asked him who you were but he always brushed it off, insisting it- you didn’t mean a thing but seeing the way he looks at you just… proves how wrong I always was for believing him. And how wrong he was.”

“About what?” you said in a low voice, biting your lower lip.

Keep reading

The Origin of the Bittle-Zimmermann Cruel Jam Empire (Another Non-NHL!Jack fic)

[Sequel to this fic]

CW: FOOD, mentions of real people

“Alright, so I got so stressed out about the exam I had today that I made a couple things of jam,” Bittle said as he swept into Jack’s apartment. He’d had his own key since Jack had gotten the place, and he abused that privilege on an almost daily basis. If it had been anyone else, Jack would have regretted living so close to campus.

“What’s ‘a couple?’” Jack asked without looking up from his laptop.

Bittle huffed and set a box down on Jack’s table with a small thud. “I plead the fifth,” he said, hand on his hip.

Keep reading

“Dude,” Lance whispered as the token alien prince of the week swept out of the room grandly. “He was totally vibing on you.”

Next to him, Keith shot him an annoyed look, lips pursed tightly until the door closed behind the prince with a click.

“Is that really what you were focusing on?” The Black Paladin demanded once he was sure they were alone, rounding on his companion with his arms crossed firmly over his chest. He leveled Lance with a look that he thinks is meant to be stern and disapproving. “We’re trying to form an alliance here and you’re thinking about that.”

“Um, it was kinda hard not to,” Lance scoffed, planting his hands on his hips, completely unperturbed - Keith should really leave the scolding to Shiro. “He was eyeing you the entire time.” His lips pulled into a knowing smirk. “He likes you.”

Keith flushed, turning his head away. “Shut up.”

Lance’s smirk grew positively devious. “Ohhh, I see how it is,” he taunted, reaching out and poke his teammate’s stomach teasingly, just below his chest armor. “Do you, perhaps, like him too?”

Keith shifted away from his hand, sending him a sidelong glance. “Maybe. So?”

Lance’s grin flickered before coming back full force. “So, why don’t you do something about it? We’re not due fly out for another two days; plenty of time to – ah – get to know the prince better.” The Red Paladin waggled his eyebrow suggestively as Keith’s flush darkened to a full-blown blush. His cheeks were starting to ache from the force of his smile.

“That-. No, none of that,” Keith croaked, hands flexing visibly before digging into his still-crossed arms firmly. “Besides, that would be…” He trailed off and shook his head roughly. “We’re leaving in two days. To continue fighting a war. That would be irresponsible.”

“Or a chance for you to have fun for once,” Lance countered, though his heart clenched at the implication. “I’m not saying marry the guy, just see where it goes. Or just talk to him. Plus, the prince isn’t an idiot. I’m sure he’ll realize anything between you is… temporary.”

He watched as violet eyes flickered between him and the door. Keith pressed his mouth into a thin line, still looking uncertain, but also like he was actually considering the idea.

“You think so?”

“Man, this is me you’re talking to,” Lance reasoned with his usual put-upon air of arrogance. “I’ve figured out whether a romantic venture is worth it or not.”

Keith snorted. “I suppose that’s true. Lot of trial-and-error on your part.”

“Shut the hell up, asswipe.”

Keith laughed at that outright, and despite his wounded pride and squirming insides, Lance found himself smiling as well. After a moment, the Black Paladin sobered up. His crossed arms loosened and fell to his sides once more as he glanced back at the door again, looking nervous this time.

“Maybe just this once.”

Lance clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man. You want any pointers?”

“From you? Hard pass.”

“Rude.” Huffing, Lance turned to the table and grabbed their data pads, closing out of the note-taking programs and tucking them securely under his arm. “While you do that, I’ll go debrief the team.”

Keith nodded in approval, smiling as Lance quietly wished him luck and left his leader to his own devices.

The brunet walked through the unfamiliar halls of the prince’s castle, carefully retracing his steps from earlier that afternoon.

Once he was certain that he was far enough away from the meeting room and still a ways from their Paladin quarters, he slowed to a stop. He leaned against wall, hyper-focusing on his breathing instead of the sickening roll of his stomach.

‘This is for the best,’ the logical part of his brain reassured. ‘And, look, you’re making progress!’

But no matter what that little voice told him, Lance’s chest still seemed too small for his lungs and his heart ached.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and, taking a final deep breath, pushed off the wall. He glanced up and down the hall, making sure he hadn’t been caught; it wouldn’t do to have a stray servant see a member of Voltron so broken up over nothing. Especially over a stupid, pointless crush.

Blue eyes lingered longingly on the way he came before Lance turned away decisively.

“One step at a time,” he reminded himself, forcing his feet forward, away from Keith and the royal quarters. “One step at a time.”

baby's first night; Shawn Mendes

a/n: a new parents! imagine (a late night/early morning word vomit by sourshawn - yeah, not bbs, but hopefully this makes up for it)

synopsis: shawn and his wife are new parents, and they don’t want to leave baby alone.

Originally posted by nobravery


a little bit of me

a little bit of you

who knew love could be so small - situated in she

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#MyParentsAreLosers - Batmom x Batfam

I couldn’t bring myself to write a “depressed Batmom” story today, and I really wanna write it well and all so…here’s a silly thing for you, to “wait” for an actual story. Warning : it’s stupid and not greatly written, probably a bit of a mess (I wrote that in three days, with 5 minutes available each day to do it so yeah…messy) This was requested (anonymously), a story about the Batboys introducing Batmom and Bruce to Instagram and Snapchat, but I can’t find the original message anymore so…Here, if you read this anon’, I hope you’ll like it :-) (I hope all of you guys will like it) :

My masterlist blog : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com

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It’s Alfred who discovered it. 

He read it in the Gotham Daily (neither you nor Bruce ever had time to read any newspapers, besides, both of you were getting a bit tired about the fact that almost every “news” was about you and him…). 

As he was reading the article, for the first time in years, Alfred let it go. Thanks God he was alone in the house that day, as he bursted out in a loud and ridiculous laughter ! 

It made him laugh for hours, in fact (Damian and Tim coming home from school ruining his fun), and oh he had to tell you guys but…his majordome ways kept him from plainly coming to you and outright telling you. 

At first, he tried to leave the actual article in places you could see it. 

On the kitchen counter, for example, while you took your breakfast…But you never paid attention to anything before your third cup of coffee, even if it was right there in front of you, and by then Bruce would have joined you and you and him would be too focused on each other to realize that this damn article was on the kitchen counter !! AND OH MY GOD COULD YOU STOP KISSING AND LOOK AT THIS DAMN PIECE OF PAPER RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU ?! But it was too late, your kids were coming in and your focus would slightly shift from Bruce to them, the article would fall into the Oblivion as you just completely ignored it while doing your traditional conversation with your family. It was an old routine Alfred knew by heart. 

He tried to put it in the bathroom, and found it soaked and teared…It was something, really, how you and Bruce could be so observant sometimes, and yet so blind some others. 

He also tried the bed, laying it on your pillow where he’d be sure you’d find it…But the day he did that, Bruce came home early from patrol and you rushed upstairs rather fast and…Alfred found the sticky and…oh he’d rather not think about it, and just imagined that you guys were very sweaty when sleeping and…Let’s just never mention that episode ever again. 

He put it on the computer in the Batcave, and found it, days later, under Bruce’s seat. How did it got there ? He had no idea, but what was sure is that the greatest detective in the World, the Goddamn Batman, didn’t notice that stupid piece of paper RIGHT ON HIS KEYBOARD ! 

His last resort was the library, where you spend most of your free times when the boys and Bruce weren’t around…He placarded it everywhere, putting it in every single books you were most likely to read that day and…What did you do ? Enter the damn library reading something already, so of course you didn’t pay attention to any of the articles, and you even used a few articles as bookmarks…Oh dear…

Alfred decided that it was time to stop trying to be subtle (though he could admit that his poor attempts at making you read this particular newspaper articles weren’t really “subtle”). 

He gave up one morning, after three weeks of trying to make you guys read that damn article, and just shoved it in your face, right in front of the cup of coffee you were about to drink, so that you just HAD to read it. 

“The children of the Wayne households post a series of pictures of their parents, and it goes viral” was the title of it.

What ?

It was early in the morning, and it took you a while before starting to understand what was happening. 

To understand that your sons apparently kept posting pictures on the internet, of you and Bruce, with the caption (or “hashtag” as they called it) : #MyParentsAreLoosers, followed by the sentence “But I still love them”. 

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You can’t say such good, adoring, heart melting and heartbreaking things to a fucked up girl and not expect her to fall in love with you
—  Texts I Am Never Brave Enough To Send Him // JustScribbledWords