side comb

anonymous asked:

Hiya! Would you mind doing a writing with either Genji or McCree when they have lazy day at home with their s/o? Like whichever one you choose they just have a nice sweet day with their s/o and maybe they cuddle and kiss em a bit? :0c Keep up the good work running this blog!!!!

((A/N - sorry for the break! 24 hours does not seem like enough hours in a day eugh))

Genji

Something soft stroked your cheek. You leaned into the touch, moaning softly. It travelled up the side of your face, combing through your hair. You opened one eye and saw sunlight flittering through the window. You promptly closed your eyelid, groaning and rolling over so you were facing away from the light. You heard a chuckle from above you. You peeked over your shoulder to see Genji sitting upright on the bed, leaning against a pillow with his hand still tangled in your locks.

“Come back. I was enjoying that.”

You mumbled incoherently into your pillow.

“Please?”

You sighed. You lay on your front with your head facing your boyfriend.

“Better?” You said, voice still slightly muffled from the awkward angle.

“Yes, thank you.”

You relaxed into his hand, which was now massaging your scalp. The touch travelled down to your nape, the heavenly feeling of your neck being massaged while your hair being played with was keeping you in a drowsy state. You managed to worm your hand out from underneath your body, curling it up and placing it by Genji’s hip, your fingers lightly drifting over his exposed skin.

“(Y/N).”

A grunt escaped your throat.

“Would you like some breakfast?”

You hummed in response. You had ended up falling asleep early last night, having to make Genji carry you from the sofa to the bed. However, falling asleep early also meant you missed out on dinner and you could feel your stomach slightly rumbling.

“Stay.” Your boyfriend commanded.

You weren’t in any position to say no. You were far too relaxed, stretching out like a lazy cat. The sun was warm on your bare skin not being covered by the duvet. You felt Genji climb out of bed and his little tapping all the way to the kitchen. He made noise mostly for you. Him being a ninja meant he had conditioned himself to not make noise, but after the one time you genuinely nearly shat yourself after he tried to surprise you he had made a promise to himself to make his whereabouts known to you.

Clanging came from the kitchen, no doubt the cupboard full of pots and pans was opened and it all came tumbling to the floor. You gently snorted to yourself at the thought. Genji belonged in the kitchen as much as a bull in a china shop. The two just clashed. It made you smile to think he was going to the effort to please you, though.

You dozed off into sleep, hearing a frustrated groan every now and then from the other room. Only moments seemed to pass and you were being woken by a rather enthusiastic Genji, holding a tray in one hand the other shaking your shoulder.

“Breakfast in bed.” He proudly announced.

You grinned at him. Eagerly sitting up, you looked at what he made for you. A glass of orange juice, a slice of toast with butter, a crispy rasher of bacon, fluffy scrambled eggs and two of the most juiciest sausages you had ever seen. There was also a second identical plate for him.

“Wow, I’m amazed.”
“You are welcome, (Y/N).”

You leaned over and pecked him on the cheek.

“Thank you, my love.”

You were genuinely surprised with how well Genji had cooked your food. He took your plate from you when you were finished and scuffed out to the kitchen.

You threw the covers off of you and decided to throw on something comfortable. It was a lazy day today; no work, no plans, no nothing. Just you and Genji to relax. Throwing on a baggy t-shirt and some underwear, you walked into the living room and plopped yourself down on the couch.

Genji came up behind and ruffled your hair before placing himself next to you. You lay down, head resting on his lap.

“What would you like to watch?” He asked, flicking on the television.
“Anything. Even if it’s that daytime telly crap.”
He looked down at you, amused. You shot up a smug grin before laughing to yourself.

You loved lazy days. Especially with Genji.

Jesse

You were flat on your back on the floor of yours and Jesse’s shared apartment, arms and legs spread out.

“Please, no more.” You begged, panting.

You were looking up at your boyfriend who was standing over you triumphantly, feet apart and hands on his hips.

“I can do this all day, sweetheart.”

You groaned. For the last half an hour or so you had been trying to escape your apartment. You had told Jesse there were just a few e-mails you had to send and then you’d be straight back. He, however, had other plans. Every time you tried to get up he would be all over you, digging his fingers into your ribs, armpits, thighs, where ever he could reach. You were incredibly ticklish, which was an absolute nightmare for you.

“I just need to run to my office and-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he crouched down and had his large hands hovering over your dishevelled top.

“You done?” His eyebrows were raised, eyes daring you to say another word.
“Please?” You whined.

He grinned wolfishly, baring his teeth.
“Wrong answer, doll.”

He instantly wiggled his fingers on your ribs, making you scream while laughing. He was not relenting, you tried curling into a ball only to give him access to another area he could tickle you. Your breath became short, trying to whack his hands away and plead with your boyfriend at the same time. Only when he saw tears rolling down the side of your face did he take his hands away and sit back on his heels.

“It’s your day off, (Y/N). Work can wait.”

You brought a hand up to the corner of your eye to wipe away a tear.

“Okay. I’ll stop trying to leave.”
“You sure?”
Yes.”
“S'posed to be a lazy day, (Y/N).”

You sighed, slumping back into your original starfish position.

“Y'need t'learn how to switch off.”

Your eyebrows creased, frowning at the cowboy.

“Go sit on the couch ‘nd lemme look after ya.”

You lifted your hand slowly, scared to make any sudden movements which made Jesse chuckle. He took your hand and lifted you off the ground with ease. You stumbled into his arms, encasing you in a bear hug. Jesse smelt like coffee, tobacco and gunpowder. You took in a deep breath, associating him with what is now your home.

“You okay, doll?”

You nodded, not bothering to be vocal. It would have been muffled by his chest anyway. You let out a little cry as you realised his hug was a ploy to get you to the couch, your toes now only skimming the ground as Jesse waddled over. He gently placed you down and and pushed you, making you topple over. You huffed at him, crossing your arms.

He plopped himself next to you, wiggling around to get comfy. He flung his arm over your shoulder and brought you in close so you were laying on his chest, peppering kisses onto the top of your head.

“Now, stay with me. Don’t want you runnin’ off.”

You hummed, amused. Your hum turned into a mewl when he started scratching your head, your body becoming limp and relaxing into his embrace.

“There we go, sweetpea. Di'n’t I say I’d take care o’ ya?”

You kept silent, only letting out a reluctant, ‘mmhm’ when he briefly took his hand away.

“Good.”

Jesse reached over and switched on the television with the remote, flicking through channels. It was for background noise more than anything, you halfway to going back to sleep because of how relaxed you were.

You hadn’t realised you had dozed off until you were being woken by a southern drawl. You buried your face into his stomach and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Darlin’, I need to make us lunch.” He repeated, laughter behind his voice.

It was indeed a lazy day, one that you had needed for a while. The thing you loved about Jesse was that he could make you switch off from work. You loved him for it.

Love and Afraid

This short story is based off Norman Reedus’s movie SKY. If you haven’t seen the movie, this story spoils some of it in ways. If you do not care or you have seen the movie, carry on. I have had a few requests for this crossover, so here you are.


  • Daryl Dixon x Reader
  • Part One
  • 735 Words
  • Warnings: Talks about death

“Daryl?” The whole house is quiet, but it normally was with him. Daryl never plays music or watches old movies. He spends his time doing productive things, which in the end, was a good thing.

You walk up to the second floor, where he sleeps when he can. Perhaps he was taking a nap, getting ready for the run Aaron wants him to accompany him on.

The bedroom door is cracked and you can see a figure on the bed. Knowing Daryl, he wants to be alone to rest. But this wasn’t like Daryl to sleep during the day, not in the afternoon.

You knock gently on the door, twice, as you had on the front door. There’s a small grunt but nothing else. Unsure if that was a ‘go away’ or a ‘come in’, you step inside and look over at the sleeping man on the bed. He’s on his side, his arms tucked under his only pillow as he never asked for any more. Daryl thinks he deserves nothing, not even one extra pillow for comfort.

“Aaron is looking for you.” You say softly, stopping just before the bed. His stomach is moving slowly, hardly moving at all, actually. His legs twitch a little, as if he were trying to pretend to sleep now. “Why are you up here?”

Daryl doesn’t speak. It’s not that shocking, but it doesn’t help your worry. You sit on the side of the bed and watch his side move as he breathes. His hair is still greasy, probably going on his fifth day without washing his hair again. Somehow you don’t mind. There were worse things to worry about during a walker breakout, especially now with all these bad events happening with other survivors.

There’s a small noise that leaves Daryl’s throat. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought it a sob. Except, you didn’t think there would be a reason for Daryl to cry. Life, aside from the walkers, was pretty good at the moment.

“Daryl, honey. What is it?” You rub his elbow, soothing him, letting you know you care about him. “You can tell me.”

After a long minute of silence, Daryl sniffs. “I’m worthless.” He growls.

“What? No.” Without thought, you curl up beside him and wrap your arms around Daryl best you could. “You are not worthless. Don’t ever think that.” You assure him, placing one hand on his side and the other combs through his hair.

For a moment, you think Daryl may push you back or tell you to leave. He doesn’t. He lays there, his breathing still shallow.

“Had a visit with the doc.” He continues. His voice is shaky, uneven. It sounds like there’s something caught in his throat as he speaks. “I’m… uhh—“ He stops.

“You’re what?” You’re glad you let your nails grow. You massage them into his hair gently, scratching his scalp to calm him down. He accepts this act of kindness.

“Doc says I ain’t got long to live.”

The world stops. Suddenly, the world outside means nothing. You forgot all about the walkers, the bad survivors, Rick, Carl, Aaron. None of that mattered.

A lump catches in your throat as you try to swallow and you watch the back of his head, your whole body going cold. You feel like you just entered a freezer without any clothes on. Your head spins, trying to wrap around what he just said.

“I ain’t gon’ make it, Y/N.” He explains, though you didn’t think you needed that.

“Daryl…” You glide your fingers down his side and back up to his arm, giving him goosebumps that you could see.

“I never got ta tell ya…” He grumbles, stopping just before he says it. You let him ponder on his words while you still try to wrap your head around this.

“Shhh.” You caress his cheek to silence him when he stuttered over his words. “Don’t. Just close your eyes and rest, Daryl. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

His shoulder starts to shake. You don’t acknowledge the fact he’s weeping. You slip your arm around him, holding him closer. He’s still shaking. You can only imagine how he’s feeling right now. You decide to ask questions later, let him cry himself to sleep. Sometimes people just need to let their feelings out, and Daryl was one to bottle them up. Not now.

anonymous asked:

Domestic kanej??

this is the otpest of all otps for me so i died writing this. tysm for sending it 💕


  • domestic kanej wouldn’t happen for years and when it does it would be—fight me on this— at the rietveld family farm after inej took on all the slavers and kaz built up the barrel, destroyed it, and cashed out.
  • and it would consist of early mornings
  • inej would wake to the smell of coffee in the air at six a.m, but she’d know kaz’s first cup of it came at least a half an hour earlier.
  • kaz would be standing by the window overlooking the fields, leaning his weight against his cane, and taking economic sips of his coffee in hopes she’d join him with hers
  • some days she’d leave him alone with his thoughts
  • (these are two very independent people i can’t imagine them being glued together all the time?? also realistically speaking, that’s unlikely if you’ve been together for a while)
  • other days they’d stand together in silence and watch the sun rise
  • he’d be better with touch but not quite there (would he ever be??) so she’d wait for him to initiate
  • but because they’d both have bad days where they’d prefer not to be touched at all he still asked for her consent
  • it would be in the way he brushed hair from her face but his fingers lingered as they grazed against her temple and she’d nod for him to know it was okay to kiss her there
  • his gravelly voice would be as soft as it could possibly get when he’d ask, “sleep okay?”
  • and she’d make sure to ask in return, “did you sleep?”
  • “i slept enough,” translated to no and she’d sigh because for a long time she thought kaz didn’t sleep due to the fact he was always scheming or paranoid or both simultaneously. but no he just never ever slept??
  • they’d own bunch of businesses in town because kaz is greedy af and even though he’d be sitting on a couple million kruge he’d still like income
  • inej would go into work at one of their stores in the morning just to offer her help like the angel she is. she’d have lunch with her new girl clique (inej deserves a badass girl squad and in my mind she gets exactly that) and bring him food home after
  • neither of them knew how to cook
  • it was disastrous when they tried
  • imagine her coming home to kaz picking vegetables
  • “would it kill you to take off the suit for this?”
  • “probably.”
  • “kaz, literally no one is around for miles, it’s scorching hot, and you don’t make a very convincing business man with dirt stains all over you.”
  • he’d adjust his tie, “sure i do.”
  • she’d roll her eyes at him and wipe dirt off his cheek with the sleeve of her shirt. she’d never thought she’d see the day where kaz would be cute. hot, sure. but cute? adorable? saints help her.
  • and we know kaz has no qualms against undressing in front of her. after being in the fields all day it would be no different. he’d come inside the house pulling off his layers. only inej wouldn’t have to pretend she wasn’t looking anymore
  • she’d stare, he’d smirk at her
  • inej would be in charge of picking fruit from the trees. they’d make a game of her climbing up and tossing apples down at him in an attempt to make it in the basket he’d be holding. he’d intentionally move at the last minute to make her miss and she’d grudgingly lob some at him for it
  • other times he’d haul himself up into the tree too even though it would be painful for him to get back down. but he’s had to do worse.
  • they’d sit there and talk about anything and everything. inej would tell him about all the things she managed to overhear within the day and he’d let out a rare, unrestrained laugh at some of the stories
  • they’d make waffles for dinner, literally the only thing they didn’t burn
  • and they’d sleep in the same room but separate beds because of their traumas
  • kaz didn’t believe in her saints, but he’d silently pray for someone to save him and his sanity at night when she sat at the foot of her bed in her silk robes, brushing tangles from her long, damp hair. 
  • inej with her hair down killed him inside
  • he’d count how many times she combed each side so he wouldn’t do it wrong those nights when she sat on his bed instead of her own and offered the brush to him
  • he’d sit behind her, softly running his fingers through the strands first because he couldn’t resist. he’d take this job very seriously, parting her hair as he’d seen her do because her locks were so thick she preferred it brushed in sections.
  • he’d almost always lean in real close to inhale the soap she used. sometimes he’d sweep her hair aside and graze his nose along the nape of her neck, waiting for her to react.
  • she’d encourage, “go ahead.” and he’d trail soft kisses there
  • domestic kanej would also be relaxed and content and comfortable.
  • kaz openly admitting when his leg was in pain instead of pretending it wasn’t whenever she asked
  • inej talking about the nightmares that still haunted her
  • and cold nights swathed in blankets in the field, looking up at the stars, drinking hot chocolate
  • inej would read a lot and cry over the books. “if you make fun of me, i’ll hurt you.”
  • kaz didn’t make fun of her. he’d make tea and offer his hand. he didn’t like hugs, but he’d lock their fingers and squeeze real tight to reassure her. and since he didn’t know how to comfort he’d be all, “it wasn’t even that sad.”
  • and she’d look at him with that surprised expression he liked so much. “you read it.”
  • “you’ve only been crying about it since the day you opened it and read the first page. i was curious.”
  • they’d spend the night discussing it
  • and domestic kanej would inevitably be her waking at four a.m. to kaz pacing
  • “tell me that isn’t scheming face.”
  • kaz would only cock his head to the side, still deep in thought.
  • inej would sigh and climb out of bed, “i’ll get my knives, make the coffee.”

guys!! kaz combing inej’s hair was started by @inejjghafas in this beautiful post

Mad: Part 1

“We’re all a little crazy on the inside. Some are just better at hiding it than others.”

Warning: Will contain smut, violence and tense situations in later chapters

Teaser  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7

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anonymous asked:

Hi, bro! Could I ask for some advice? I've been questioning my gender recently (AFAB) and I want to experiment with looking more androgynous because that's generally the types of clothes I reach for, especially the days my chest upsets me. Only problem is that my hair (my favorite part of my body) is copper, waist-length and ringlety, as well as often bushy. Combined with a rounder face and big eyes, I look pretty feminine. Any suggestions on how to look more androgynous without cutting my hair?

First of all, your hair sounds rad AF, and it definitely shouldn’t be a problem! Lots of masc and neutral presenting people rock long hair, and it gives you something exciting to work with.  Also, keep in mind that being genderqueer doesn’t require a change in how you present, you should look how you want to look!

Anyway, here are my starter tips for a more neutral/less femme look, but bear in mind i’m not a hugely experienced person when it comes to fashion and makeup :)

Face:

If you wear glasses, changing the style to a squarer or more masculine looking style can change how your face looks.

If you have piercing, you can you them to put out the vibe you want- e.g., dangly hoop earring make your face look rounder, and studs and asymmetrical looks can be more masc/androgynous

Try different contouring on the face for a more neutral look- emphasize your cheekbones and jaw line with dark eyeshadow etc.

If your face is very feminine you can balance that out by thickening your eyebrows. If you muss them up or darken them with mascara/eyeliner pencil, it can help to look more masculine. Boys tend to have less of an arch to their brows too.

If you want to draw attention from your eyes, limit makeup around them like mascara and eyeliner which will make them look bigger, and wear more makeup/darker makeup elsewhere like the eyebrows or the lips.

You can wear clear lip gloss and put some powder on top to make your lips look neutral coloured, rougher and more masculine.

However, makeup’s not for everyone, and it’s by no means essential! It’s about doing what makes you comfortable.

Minimizing chest:

Binders, those dance tops ballet folks wear to reduce movement, or just a good, well-fitting bra - but not a pushup one

Wearing dark colored tops can be slimming for your chest.

Wearing jackets or cardigans over your t-shirts/singlets breaks up the outline of your chest

Wearing cute + chunky scarves to cover your chest.

A shirt with a cool collar/lapel will draw attention away from the chest

However, wearing long necklaces or decals on the chest draws attention to the chest.

Wear clothes that broaden your shoulders e.g. suit jackets w pads

Wear patterned or brightly coloured pants to draw attention there instead.

Hairstyles:

Wear your hair in different styles, really show it off- it sounds gorgeous. Pushing it to the side or combing it back can make it look more androgynous.  Certain hairstyles also make your face look less round, but you’d have to ask a person with more experience with having long hair than me to tell you which. Mussing it up and wearing it in a textured style also looks more androgynous. Accessorize it and wear it up- drawing attention to your hair rather than your chest on dysphoric days, and just showing it off when you’re in the mood. You can also wear caps, beanies and hats, and push it up under them on days it’s worrying you.  

Clothes:

Structured clothes can provide a more angular body shape, or a baggy look in neutral clothes (hoodie or sweater and boys pants) can hide curves. Bright plain colors are a favorite of lots of nb/genderqueer people I know, as they tend to lack gendering decals without being too dull or overly masculine.   I like to wear t shirts with my favorite superheroes on them, as they’re normally in a neutral or masculine style and it’s nice to have them as back up throughout the day :P

Button downs, Jackets, vests/waistcoats, sweaters (I really love sweaters!!!)

Masculine looking pants like Chinos, or other baggy pants, or rough low decal jeans.

Big chunky boots or masculine shoes can totally change the style of an otherwise feminine outfit and they make you feel pretty badass.

Androgyny is more a personal style choice than a certain way you have to dress so figure out your own look. shop around, including in the guy’s section and in thrift stores to see what catches your eye.

There’s also lots of cool online stores designed for and by lgbtq+ folks, which you can shop at or just use for inspiration (they’re often pretty expensive) e.g.

http://www.qwearfashion.com/home/?category=Shopping

http://www.genderflux.com/store

http://www.wearandrogyny.com/#

http://shapeshiftersinc.storenvy.com/products

https://weareher.com/clothing-has-no-gender-fashion-brands-for-the-queer-friendly-wardrobe

https://www.onedna.us/

http://sixty-nine.us

http://www.dapperq.com/

http://www.charlieboy.net.au/

http://www.tillyandwilliam.com/

https://sharpesuiting.com/

http://www.androgynousfashion.com/

http://www.muttonheadstore.com/

http://www.flavnt.com/

https://saintharridan.com/

https://playout-underwear.com/

http://outplaywear.com/

http://www.wethematriarch.com/

Much love,

Your big brother Alex

Reticence

Reticence: /noun/- the quality of being reticent, of not revealing one’s thoughts or feelings readily.

Summary: A request from @40212, reader has self esteem issues about herself, and Peter Parker decides to weigh in.

Word count:1,609

Warnings: some of the language in this fic is,,,personal to my own experience of being overweight. It’s not my feelings towards any other person other than myself.


You rolled over in bed, trying hard to combat the arms that clung to your waist. Small, pale and rough, Peter Parker’s nimble fingers had brushed underneath the fabric of your shirt, his touch setting flame to the skin beneath it.

Your hyperawareness of the whole situation made you sweat, despite the cracked window that let in the cool January air. You deftly picked up Peter’s hands and dropped them onto the mattress beside you, scooting your legs to the edge of the bed and stretching. Peter’s shirt (a Star Wars shirt, you could add,) raised up on your torso, the shorts underneath them have ridden up in the night, practically underwear the way they sat at the dip between your pelvis and thigh.

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Super quick doodle of some… Saint Seiya OCs (?) based on a very bizarre RP thread that I love nonetheless (I blame @la-razzia-cosmica too)

For the record: they are NOT the Twin Gods as kids.

These cuties here are none other than Athena’s sons! They are twin boys that sadly only inherited their mother’s eyes xD (tho the one at the top is actually dark-haired, not silver) Oh, and they have different fathers too (I did say this was based on a crack-ish thread, didn’t I?) And since I liked their designs, I decided to draw them and practice drawing child-like faces.

Who do you think their fathers are? I am curious about people’s guessings lol

Precious Gem

Pairing: Merman!Dean x Mermaid!Reader AU

Summary: The reader finally meets the king. She also learns some new things about Dean’s that leads to a confrontation. 

Warnings: A touch of angst. 

Word Count: 1,836

A/N: So I’m not sure how I feel about this piece. It was far longer than expected and I feel like it was boring. But there are still several more parts planned out and I hope you enjoy this and feedback is always welcome. 

Catch Up Here: Part 1Part 2Part 3Part 4

Originally posted by jota-jalz

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when you awoke to meet Dean. Today you were going to meet the man that was supposedly your father. You had always gone through life thinking your parents were dead, the idea that you may actually have a father was hard for you to wrap your head around. Not to mention he was the king of all merkind. Heck you didn’t even know his name but you were equally excited as you were nervous. Quietly slipping down the stairs, you snuck towards the back door. That was when the lights overhead snapped on and you found Lana leaning against the wall looking very annoyed. 

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anonymous asked:

I adore your writing. Seriously, you're amazing. I saw you were looking for prompts, so what about Dex meeting Nursey's old school "friends" and how he reacts?

@nurseydexweek July 19th - Fake Dating/Secret Relationships

“Yo Dex!” Dex glares at his calc book, pretending as if he can’t hear the all too familiar voice call his name. “Deeeeeex, Dexyyyy, Sexy Dexy!”

What?” Dex finally snaps, spinning around in his desk chair to find Nursey actually rifling through his closet. “Stop going through my shit.”

“Remember that time I came and saved you from that LAX bro party and you said. ‘I owe you one Nurse, you beautiful fucker.’” Nursey smirks over his shoulder, one of Dex’s plaid shirts curled in his hands.

“I did not say that,” Dex grumbles, trying to ignore the anxiety building in his chest. He doesn’t like the way Nursey’s face looks, all fake smug and annoyingly pretty and possibly vulnerable. It makes him nervous, because even without the promised favor (he did tell Nursey he owed him one, but he did not say anything about him being beautiful. Even though he is) he would say yes to Nursey eventually, with just some mild protests in between to maintain his reputation.

“Pretty sure you did,” Nursey half sings, slipping his arms into the shirt. “Anyways, I’m here to collect on that.”

Dex huffs and spins back to his homework, if only to hide the flush burning up his neck. He just… when he was in high school, his girlfriend used to steal his hoodies all the time, and he might have developed a thing. And seeing Nursey in his clothes (and in flannel) is well, doing things to him.

“What do you need, Nurse.” He tries to make it sound as bland as he possibly can, tries to make it sound like he doesn’t care. It probably doesn’t work, but it makes Dex feel approximately 5% better about himself.

“You to be my boyfriend.”

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anonymous asked:

Could u write one where the reader is new and she meets Dylan, and Dylan becomes really protective of her because she's like only 5 foot tall. Just adventures around school, lots of fluff, maybe the guys (Zach, Nate, brooks, Eric) being annoying af somewhere in the story

Your bed had always been your most difficult goodbye. Especially today. It was the first day of school, and the bed’s sweet linen scent and comfortable body-contouring cushion seemingly begged you to stay. You looked at the clock and sighed. There was nothing in the world that could make you more stressed than going to school today. It was your first day at Columbine, and even though there would be plenty of other new students you were dreading arriving there. 
You climbed out of bed and dressed yourself clumsily. Your shirt was a plain black one with a slight v-neck, and your pants were black joggers with a white line down the side. You combed your hair and ate your breakfast quickly before grabbing your bag and walking out to your car. As you made your way down the Colorado streets, the sun shone through the intermittent clouds and the sky shimmered with the stubborn stars that desperately lingered in the molokai blue sky. You passed lines of evergreen and cedar trees that dusted the ground with their pines and spindles of green. The scent of the wood and the light fog created a dreamy look over the city and you savored the pleasant image of the morning, hoping you could remember the good parts of the day. 
You drove down the street, the traffic sparse and the sun still barely peaking over the trees in the horizon. Columbine loomed in the distance and a sharp feeling of dread poured over you. You longed to stay in the car and admire the scenery; the way the sky covered the city in a shade of gray. You pulled into the parking lot of your new school and parked. You took a deep breath in the silence before slinging your bag over your shoulder and hauling yourself inside, avoiding the prying eyes of your fellow students. 
As you entered the school, a strange heat enveloped you. The air was hot and thick, the halls packed with people walking shoulder to shoulder towards their respective classrooms. You fought through the current, struggling against people who were much taller than you. At 5 feet tall, you were destined to have a hard time getting to class, especially since it was the first day. Somehow, though, you made your way from the ocean of people and into your first hour class. Posted on the board was a seating chart for the class, and you exhaled deeply. A seating chart? On the first day? You searched through the names on the strange diagram until you found yours, right next to the name “Dylan Klebold.” Turning around to find your seat, you saw him. He was tall. REALLY tall. At least a foot taller than you. You approached your seat nervously. Even though this man was not the scariest, his height intimidated you. You slid into your seat and the long-haired blond smiled down at you kindly, his genuine kindness flowing onto you like sunshine. You returned the gesture and faced the front of the classroom. Soon, this would become a pattern.
For weeks, every time you would see Dylan you would smile at him. He would return the favor no matter where he was or who he was with. Sometimes the two of you would talk in the hallways as you headed from class to class, and sometimes you would sit outside together before class. 
One day before class, you were sitting on the stairs by the main entrance. Bundled in thick pants, a sweater and hat, you braced your back against the wind and looked around, rubbing your gloved hands together. The slick material of your coat blocked the breeze from invading your space and freezing you to death, and also helped protect you from the flurries of snow that were beginning to fall. You looked up the slope next to the stairs and spotted Dylan’s car, the old beat up BMW that rattled as it shut off and let out a gong-like clang when Dylan closed the door. He trotted down the steps, a cup in each of his large hands and glided across the lawn to you. He sat down next to you and handed you one of the paper demitasses. You smiled gently and took the cup and he returned your calm beam. “Hope you like coffee.” He said and you laughed softly. 
“I do,” You assured him and took a sip, the warm dark liquid warming your viscera. Steam billowed from your throat and you looked over at Dylan. He was staring mindlessly into space, his long hair drifting in front of his eyes unpleasantly. You reached up and pulled stray locks of hair from his face and he leaned into your touch. The gesture was slight enough that you noticed, but bold enough that you couldn’t help but feel a flush run over your cheeks. 
The flow of people towards the school began to grow and you sighed. You enjoyed your alone time with Dylan, and now the thudding of footsteps and obnoxious murmuring filled your ears and began to irritate you. Dylan placed his foot in front of yours and scooted closer to you, his shoulders swiveled – left out, right in – defensively as guys eyed you. Dylan and you were not officially together, though he liked to act like he was. He ignored people who threw slurs at him and looked you in the eyes, gifting you another of his heart-warming smiles. After the group of guys passed, Dylan sat back where he was and took another drink of his coffee. You couldn’t tell if he liked the drink or if he was just drinking it to stay awake. A smile crept across your lips and Dylan exhaled, steam pouring from between his lips.
“Can I ask you something?” He questioned as he turned to you, his shoulders in the same defensive swivel as before as more people began to walk by. 
“Of course,” You said and took a drink of the refreshing drink he provided you. “Ask away.” You assured him and crossed your legs, turning towards him with your hand propping up your head. 
“Well,” He began shyly, teetering over each word before he uttered it. “I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to be my girlfriend.” He spat the words quickly, as if saying it was ripping off a bandaid. 
Your eyes widened. You didn’t think he could be so direct. “Um,” You stuttered, trying to process what you heard. “Well, yeah. I would really like that.” Dylan casually nodded, then looked away and beamed for a moment. You smiled at that – you loved seeing him so happy. He looked back at you, then slid his arm over your shoulder. 
“Now I can be shamelessly overprotective,” He cheered and you rolled your eyes, resting your head on his chest. His heartbeat was strong, even through his leather trench coat, and the sound lulled you like a metronome. 
Eric approached from the sidewalk with Nate in toe, a large grin spread across his lips. “Aww,” He cooed. “Look how cute Dyla–”
“Fuck off, Eric.” Dylan laughed and you just shook your head and smiled. It had only been three weeks into the school year and you already knew it was going to be one of the best years of your life. 

Even though I’m now an adult, I still shudder every time I remember the nurse at my elementary school.

The Lord of Hosts

When I was a kid, the nurse at my elementary school, Mr. Lansing, performed weekly lice checks on all the students. He used to be a doctor before he retired and took the position at the school because he loved children and wanted to make sure they were healthy and happy. I liked Mr. Lansing. He had a soft voice, a shiny bald head, and was very hard of hearing. He’d take a metal comb that he’d always warm up in his hands first and carefully move my hair around to see if there was anything crawling on my scalp.

One time, he whispered “uh oh” and held a tiny bug between his thumb and forefinger for me to see. I started to cry. He told me not to worry and brought me down to the his office. Even though I liked Mr. Lansing, I hated his office. It was right next to the boiler room so it was always hot. The few times I had to go there when I was sick, I sweated a lot and felt super thirsty. To my pleasant surprise, the boilers hadn’t been turned on that day because of the warm weather outside. The office was just like any other room.

Mr. Lansing sat me down on the little cot and perched on a stool in front of me. His gray eyes glinted with reflected light and he smiled as he talked with me about head lice and what would happen next. The most important thing, he stressed, was that I shouldn’t worry about it. It happens to almost all kids at least once - it’s why he inspects every student in the school a few times each month. He asked if I was okay, and I nodded and wiped my eyes. He smiled again.

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Baekhyun scenario - Pepero challenge

Requested

With the help of my trusty exo sidekick: @catou1305

Genre: fluff & smut

Warnings: Love bites and dirty talk.

Summary: while playing the pepero challenge Baekhyun becomes a bit too hot and bothered.

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