still wishing i could have hair this red

For my friends birthday she got an immoral piercing.

It was in the top of her ear, the rounded rim of semirigid cartilage. The piercing was a bird, a little golden swallow. At least that’s what it seemed like to me. It seemed like a bird that could sing.

That piercing was a big deal for her, something she’d wanted for a while. Privately, and shamefully. And it was only recently that she worked up the courage to allow herself this small, new freedom. My friend and I are ex-Mormons. And I know that feeling intimately.

Growing up I was jealous of non-Mormons, mostly girls, for little things like that. Piercings, tank tops, curse words, opinions. Freedoms. Little freedoms I couldn’t have, little freedoms that were sins. Petty, stupid sins that made no sense to me even then. I wished God didn’t demand so much of me, because my life felt so small, so out of my hands. Even little choices were denied me, I had to deny myself of them or accept damnation. I had a mental list of little things I wished I could have, wished I could be, things I couldn’t discuss for fear of being labeled heretical. I didn’t realize how inane those list items were to non-Mormons. They still aren’t to me.

Little things like earrings, like short skirts, mark my freedom, the difference between my old and new selves. You take your life back one commonplace item at a time, you buy a short skirt, you paint your nails black, dye your hair red, and get a gold swallow piercing. Or you get to speak you mind, you get to tell the truth. These little things I carry with me, they remind me that I am now the person I want to be, that I am through being jealous, and following someone else’s rules. These little things make me feel like singing.

Sloppy kisses

Hello, I saw that your request box is open, Can I request a Jay Park scenario where you go visit one of your closest friends at her aunt’s house…And you know her aunt very well, in fact she adores you like the daughter she never had, so one day they invite you to a family party where you meet her two sons, Jehan and Jay, and Jay and you both get shocked that you actually are close with his family since you guys have been kinda always having a thing but never official omg it’s long sorry♡thanks

Type: Super fluff

Words: +1.5k

For @leyarren

It’s so fulff i’m sorry

Let me know what you think of it

illi

Originally posted by jayfatuasian


It was June, the fresh breeze of Busan was caressing your skin while you were admiring the view from your best friend’s house.

The little pastel pink dress was dancing in the air like your long black hair.


-Heeei Y/N!!!!!! Wanna go to the beach?

You turned around, facing your best friend and nodding happily


Her name was Jimin, she was the same age as you and you both met at the cafeteria where you worked.

She had a contagious smile and the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You quickly became close, like family. The fact that you both left yours to follow your dreams in Seoul connected the two of you even more.


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Everything I Didn’t Say (5 Seconds of Summer Series)

Ashton:

I was wrong I admit

“[Y/N]…” Ashton whispered. “I was wrong, I admit.”

I turned my back to my boyfriend, trying to hold back tears. “Admitting your mistake is the first step, but that still doesn’t make it okay.”

Ashton sighed. “Yes, I know, babe, but I was just acting out of anger. I know that doesn’t excuse any of my actions towards you, but I couldn’t control myself in that moment. You know I would never call you a bitch, m’love.”

“But you did, Ash…and it hurt.” I sighed.

“I was just upset because it has been such a long day and all I wanted to do was have some time to myself. You did nothing to purposely annoy me, darling, but for whatever reason…” his voice faded off.

“But for whatever reason, I got on your nerves.” I finished his sentence, my voice quivering. Turning around, I looked at him with sad eyes. “I know how that feels, Ashton. You get on my nerves practically every month! I never use my PMS-ing as an excuse to call you a bitch because I know you’re not! Do you understand, Ashton? You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t believe it.”

“But I don’t believe it!” Ashton interjected.

I shook my head. “Maybe not now, but at the time you must have.” Ashton was quiet. “I don’t know.” I said, wiping away my tears. “I just need some time to think. You know I love you, babe, but maybe you deserve someone who will calm you down after a hard day, not someone who will make it worse.”


Luke:

Flowers I should’ve bought

Luke had been in his room all day. He hadn’t talked to anybody, nor did he want to.

“Luke?” Calum peeked his head past the door. “Can I come talk to you?” Luke grumbled and rolled his eyes, but Calum walked into the bedroom anyway. Sitting on his bed, he began talking to Luke. “The boys and I have been worried about you lately. Are you upset because you and [Y/N] broke up or is there something else we should know about?”

Luke sat up with his hair sticking in every direction and his eyes red and puffy. “I don’t like admitting it, but I miss [Y/N], and I wish we were still together. Now that we are broken up, I am thinking of all of the things I could have done to keep her around.”

“Yeah? Tell me about them.” Calum insisted, knowing all Luke needed to do was talk it out.

Luke thought for a moment. “Well, for one, I know she loved to dance, especially slow dance. I, of course, didn’t want to look like a fool, so I always rejected her. I also should have payed more attention to her when she was talking about her favorite things. Like…her favorite color. I could have bought her clothes in whatever color that was, I don’t even remember. Oh, and her favorite flowers! Those are easy gifts! Girls love flowers so why did I not think it was very important while we were together? I guess I should have tried harder to keep her around, you know? I don’t know how I’m going to react when I find out that she has moved on from me and is with some other guy who will probably treat her so much better.”

Calum put his hand on Luke’s back. “Well, if it makes you feel better, you are one heartbreak closer to finding the perfect one for you!”

Luke glared at Calum. “Too soon.” He said, burying his face in his hands.


Michael:

I know that it’s a little too late

“Mate, I really think you should talk to [Y/N] about all of this…” Luke said, referring to the numerous journal entries that were scattered across Michael’s bed.

Not knowing what to say, Michael just shook his head. “i just…I know that it’s a little too late to discuss this with her.”

Luke sighed and sat down next to me. “Michael,” He began. “I’m sure she will listen to you if you start your conversation with the fact that you were wrong.”

“Yeah, probably…” Michael laughed. “But Luke, I don’t even know what to say after that! What if she gives me a chance to express how I feel and how wrong I was to break up with her, but all of my thoughts are so jumbled that the point I’m trying to get across to her just doesn’t make any sense?”

“Well, let’s not forget all of these notes you have written since your breakup…” Luke said, moving a couple pages so he could sit next to Michael on the bed.

Michael looked around and saw the huge mess he was creating with all of the paper. “This is all just a bunch of clutter. There is no way I can gather all of my thoughts onto one piece of paper by myself.”

Luke picked up some of the papers and handed them to Michael. “Then I’ll help you!” He chirped.

“Thanks, mate.” Michael smiled. “I appreciate it!”


Calum:

I wish that I had put you first

“That’s the thing, though!” Calum ranted to the boys. “I didn’t listen to what she was saying half of the time because I thought she would be mine forever!”

Michael gave Calum a confused look. “So you assumed you could keep a girl because you believed her to be your soulmate, but you didn’t put any effort into the relationship?”

Calum looked down, defeated. “I mean - I tried to show her affection in other ways, but I never really listened to her problems she was having.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” Ashton chimed in. “I hate to admit it, Cal…but even I noticed how selfish you were at times. For example, when she found out that her mom was sick about a month ago, you didn’t seem to care at all. You told her you had bigger problems than her and that your career was more important than any of her issues in her personal life. I’m sure that was a huge reason she left you, mate.”

“Wait…” Calum’s eyes got wide. “Her mom is sick?”

Luke shot Calum a surprised look. “Uh…yes! She was admitted to the hospital in critical condition before [Y/N] broke up with you!”

Calum buried his face in his hands. “I’ve really screwed things up with [Y/N]…I need to call her and set things straight as soon as possible.”

thesterlingaffair  asked:

I miss my thin white duke cut!

Hi! Also same lol. I need more cash to get it back since I can’t cut my own hair to save my life xD Hopefully one day though. And hopefully you’ll also get your Duke cut back.

Originally posted by yourschemeofthings

Thanx for stopping by! ^_^

2

Imagine your best friend Sodapop comforting you in the bath after you’ve had a bad day.

“It’s okay, honey” Sodapop whispered, laying his head down on your bare shoulder. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“No, no, no… it’s not.” You sobbed, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I’m so hurt.”

“I know, baby, I know. But, he isn’t going to get away with it, you savvy? I’m gonna make sure of it.”

“He is going to tell that he got into Y/N the Prude’s pants, he had it planned, y’know, he had a bet with his buddies. He got me drunk, I don’t even remember doing it.”

“He took advantage of you.” You looked up as you heard the venomous tone to his voice. “And that’s not right and I’m going to beat the tar out of him.”

“I love you” You sobbed, turning around so you could clutch onto him… you only wished he loved you the same way that you loved him. He was gentlemanly, kind, gentle and caring- he’d never force you or any other girl into something she wasn’t ready for. “God, I love you so much.”  

“I love you too.” He whispered, kissing your forehead. “Now close your eyes.”

He picked up the jug of warm water and poured it gently onto your head, washing out the conditioner… your eyes were shut but your tears were still falling.

“There, all better” When you opened your eyes you could see his sweet smile and kind eyes looking into yours.

“Hey Soda” You mumbled, shame tainting your cheeks crimson red. “I wish it were you.”

“You wish what was me?” confusion was clear in his eyes as he tucked a strand of sopping wet hair behind your ear.

“I wish it had been you that took my virginity, and not him. You’re so kind and compassionate, you wouldn’t have forced me into it or tricked me… it would’ve been beautiful.”

“It would’ve been love” He whispered gently, pressing a hand to your cheek as his eyes penetrated yours.

“Will you be my first, again?” You gave a faint smile as your hand enveloped his. “I mean, you don’t have to be, obviously I wouldn’t force you to if you didn’t want to-”

“Of course… but maybe not tonight, or even tomorrow. I want you to be absolutely certain that it’s what you want. I love you, God, I love you so much that it hurts and to think that some guy has done this.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “It drives me wild, I want to kill him.”

“Just love me”

Art and Obligation | Chapter 21

Pairing: John/Paul

Rating: Nc-17 (PG-13, for this chapter)

Set in: 1820s (au)

Summary:  John Lennon works as the apprentice of a well-known portraitist and is tasked to do the picture of the young Mr. Paul McCartney. He is the son of Jim McCartney, a wealthy and powerful landowner, and has the reputation of an arrogant, spoilt brat with a pretty face, who has a way of wrapping anyone around his finger. But soon John finds that things are not as straightforward as they may seem.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Beatles and this is fictional. I do not make money off this.

Author’s note: Here we finally are again! And Happy Birthday to that anon from yesterday! I hope you had a great day and this chapter will make it a tiny little bit better. I am also going to try to post weekly again. I really want to, so I’m doing my best. Anyway, enjoy the chapter! I’ll be writing the next chapter of Poetry Nights next, so get excited about that too :) 


If John had had to imagine three months prior what he would be doing around this time, lying in bed with a fully-naked Paul McCartney in his arms would not have come to him. And yet, he was certain it was Paul’s hair tickling him under his nose, Paul’s arms that were wrapped firmly around his waist, Paul’s breath that ghosted over his sweat-slick skin, Paul’s legs that lay entwined with his own, and that if he would open his eyes for a second, he’d be looking down into Paul’s hazel puppy eyes. He didn’t dare to, though, fearing it was only his imagination and he wasn’t truly there, just a faint memory from their days spent in Paris – if he hadn’t imagined that as well. Besides, he didn’t want to ruin the moment. It was peaceful, quiet, intimate, everything John had thought they could never have. He was lying in bed, spend and out-of-breath, listening to the faint mutterings escaping Paul’s lips as he too returned from his high, while drawing circles on the sweaty skin of his lower back, linking birthmarks together with invisible ink to create various patterns, each one more intricate than the last.

A week had passed since John had practically begged Paul to stay with him despite his engagement to Miss Asher, and neither of them had brought it up since. John had been worried future meetings would be awkward, but surprisingly, they had been able to pick up where they had left off with ease. Paul had shown up the following Wednesday on time, and like before he had waited for John to guide his body into the proper position, something both now knew wasn’t needed. Still, John would gladly take any opportunity to be close to the other man and touch him, so he had complied without another word and had knelt down at his feet. At first both had been unsure and John’s touches had been light, an obvious tremor in his hands. But once John had laid his hand high on Paul’s thigh to keep his balance as he traced his jawline with his fingertips to angle his head just right – something he wouldn’t have dared to do before Paris – the initial nerves had been pushed aside and Paul had grabbed his waistcoat with eager hands to pull him into his lap for a determined kiss. John had relished the force with which Paul had kissed him, held him and devoured him, and had easily surrendered to his urgent touches that bordered on the edge of painful. It had been all they had needed to find that old informality again.

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anonymous asked:

Yeah, the main reason I thought musashi's hair was supposed to be magenta was some of the earliest art had it as such. And also, why change it to magenta for the digital animation? Like the johto openings and mewtwo special, it was clearly magenta in those but still red in the regular cel episodes. And the AG movies, which I heard were still done on cels. But if it was meant to be magenta, why would it be so distorted so as to look red while most of the other colors were accurate?

Yup! The AG movies were still cel art!

I have… honestly no idea.

Maybe that colour was too expensive to use regularly/as part of a main character’s design because it wasn’t used for anything else? I wish I knew! ;_;

I do recall a mid-Johto cel making her hair look more magenta than red…


See? Not quite as red as it looks in-show?

The Pokemon anime wasn’t aired in very good quality and you could always see the glue at the top of the cel whenever the shot switched (I think that’s what that was???). Every single time!

No other anime I watch from that era looks like this! I think it’s because the Pokemon anime started out with a really, really, really low budget that probably went mostly to voice acting (Hayashibara Megumi and Miki Shinichiro on the main cast in every episode?! ).

I dream of you (more often than I don’t) [1/2]

[A/N: Kaz/Inej, post-Crooked Kingdom. The first six months they’re apart. In the same universe as “There were grief and ruins (and you were the miracle).”]

He didn’t spend his time pining after her.

He built up the Crow Club and worked to open a new one. He made threats of violence and made good on them when necessary. He created opportunity and money where there had been none.

If he made sure to keep track of the weather on the seas, if he found himself staring at the windowsill in his office from time to time, if he walked the pier every night before heading back to the Slat, then it was only to keep track of business or to work out some plan in his head or to know how best to dupe the tourists that were disembarking.

His days were filled with commerce and cruelty, his mind too crowded with profits and planning to think of much else.

At night, though, his body betrayed him.

His dreams were filled with glimpses of Inej - her dark hair falling across her face, her eyes staring up at him in the moonlight, her hand sliding beneath his own. It was never the entirety of her - only fleeting slivers of memories, as though he were seeing her through the gaps in a fence.

He would wake, sweating and breathless and embittered, and think - at least let me have all of her in my dreams. He might never know the feel of her in his arms in his waking life, but to never know it in his dreams, too, was a more desperate, hopeless kind of ache.

On those nights, he could almost accept that the gods existed beyond some faithful’s imagination. He could believe they were real and had finally found a punishment cruel enough for the bastard of a boy called Dirtyhands.


She sat down to write the first letter two weeks after she had departed from her berth in Ketterdam. In the morning she would say goodbye to her parents and the Ravka shoreline. 

She sat in the captain’s cabin, her lamp turned down low to keep from bothering the sleeping form of her parents a few feet away. She stared at the piece of paper before her, hand poised above the emptiness, and hesitated.

How should she start? Dear Kaz? Hello, Kaz? Perhaps forego a greeting at all and just begin. She smiled. That’s what Kaz would do, his mind too quick and emotions too bothersome a thing to bother with formal greetings.

She shook her head at herself, scoffing at the useless, ridiculous thoughts chasing one another in her brain.

She wrote his name at the top of the sheet and stopped. Wondered how to begin.

It wasn’t as though she and Kaz had never spoken casually, but it had always began and couched in terms of a job - where they were headed, what they were doing, why he needed a certain bit of information. He was never one to ask how her day had been or what she had planned for the night. Although perhaps he’d never needed, then - her days and nights had almost always involved being with him.

She set her pen down and rolled her shoulders, easing the tension from her body. She sighed quietly, then started when she heard her father speak.

“Think of all the times you almost turned to him to speak something on your mind. Imagine all the things you wanted to say. Write those things down.”

She turned her head to face him, a shy, almost embarrassed look on her face.

“How do you know who I’m writing to?”

Her father sat up and laughed as he shook his head at her, a soft look coming into his eyes.

“Who else, Inej, if not the boy who brought us to you?”

Even now, those words - the simple truth behind them - still threw her off balance.

Or perhaps righted a world that had been long knocked askew.  

She slipped off the chair and walked silently over to the bed, sat next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and she sank into his warmth, into a dream that she’d had a thousand times over, a dream that was no longer just a dream.

“You could come back with us, Inej,” her father murmured after a long moment. “There’s still a place for you among the caravans. You would have a full belly and an open road once again.”

Sorrow burrowed into her chest.

“But never an easy heart,” she replied quietly.

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listen. hair is fucken gross but I want to touch grells w my hands it probably smells like roses or some kind of fruit what kind of shampoo do you think she uses I bet she uses the expensive stuff I wouldn’t be surprised considering how shiny & beautiful it is I wonder what skin type she has or what makeup she uses can someone please tell me what brand & color nail polish she uses so I can drink five bottles of it um @toboso does she paint her toes too are they the same color I feel like she would what perfume does she use I wonder does chanel make perfume? If they do that’s what she has every time I see chanel I think of Grell I’d buy the same planner as she has (I can’t fucking believe it exists???) But it’s like $100 and I am poor™ hnnnnmmmm I wonder if she has more than one bellybutton ring tbh I’m a little surprised that the one we saw before wasn’t a skull, but at least it’s red, not that I’d be upset if she wanted to change things up in the color department obviously she would look great in anything but red compliments her so well she always looks especially gorgeous in it (not that I’ve seen her in any other color than red, brown, white, grey, or black) I have no doubt that she has a million bath bombs & Pampers herself all the time ah man I wish I was as pretty as her but it’d take a lot (a lot) of hard work to come close to halfway to her beauty & I’m not about that life so I’ll just settle with admiring her for who she is at this moment tbh she could do literally anything to her hair, clothes, style, whatever & she’d still be the more gorgeous person I’ve ever seen in my entire life I love her so much

This Distance Between Us

Fandom: Satan and Me
Ship: Natan
Word Count: 2000
Rating/Content: Just fluffy nonsense
Summary: When Natalie goes to college, her and Satan agree to cut ties. Satan finds himself struggling with the promise after she acquires his number.
A/N: Commissioned by @kohiiandink for @astarisms. “Back at you, you little shit” - kohii 2k16. My commissions are still open! if you’re interested please check out my info page here!

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029. 5SOS: Last Minute Thoughts

In which, I try to write something short, simple, and sweet. Hope it’s alright. I don’t usually do this, but I love blurbs. I should really leave blurb writing to blurb writers. 

LUKE

“Just wanted to say ‘goodnight.’” His eyes already closed, Luke nuzzled up against the hotel pillow as he melted into the sound of your breathing on the other end of the phone.

“It’s morning here.” With a fluid giggle, you corrected him, balancing the phone between your shoulder and ear while wrestling into a pair of black leggings in front of the mirror.

“I love you.” Half-asleep, Luke moaned. There was no sign of sunlight in his hotel room, not even creeping in through the thin space between the long blue curtains. It was going on one in the morning and Luke hadn’t had a proper night’s rest in a few days. Still, he wanted to hear your voice. He was missing you as much as he was missing Australian wind tossing around his hair or his grandmother’s hugs. He liked to think that if he heard your angelic voice in his ears before he went to sleep, letting it be the last noise to echo, that he would have to have pleasant dreams.

ASHTON

“I haven’t got used to missing you yet…” After letting out a yawn so large it looked like he was about to roar at any moment, Ashton revealed to you over Skype, holding up his head lazily with the other hand. “It still sucks as much as it did before.” He was out, travelling the world, and trying to affect change through his music. Ashton Irwin was, quite literally, living his dream. However, you were the other dream and he knew he was greedy to want you both at the same time, but the blond Aussie could not help himself.

“I think that’s a good thing.” Grinning, you watched him fight off his sleep with deep nods and fluttering eyelashes. “I’ll worry when you don’t mind being away from me.” Of course, you missed Ashton, too, but you felt as if you told him that a dozen times a day in some form or another whether it was through texts, phone calls, emails, or even in the little packages you tried to send him periodically. From the second the Skype chat began, you had let the three words squeal out of your freshly glossed lips.

“You’re home. I’ll always want to be with you.” Eyes shut, he hummed into his open palm, fading slowly into a land of slumber. It was nearly four in the morning for him after all.

CALUM

“Did you miss me?” Cheeky as always, Calum asked. You could practically hear his smile up against the nape of your neck as he nuzzled you closer to his warm body, his chest against your spine as if you were perfectly aligned in the imperfections of your bodies.

“What do you think?” Into your pillow, you chuckled and tightened your grip on his forearm, your hands curled up and holding him holding you.

“Say it again.” You had said the three words to him multiple times now. As soon as he walked through your front door, surprising you, and then three times while he was pulsating inside of you, the two of you panting  uncontrollably while tangled like bed sheets in the basement of your parent’s house, and then once as you came down from a sexual high under his arm.

“I missed you.” Of course, you wouldn’t deny him what he wanted. He had been gone for nearly two months and, at this point, you would say just about anything to keep him as close as he was right now. You hadn’t even asked when he had to go back again. Right now, things felt like they were exactly how they needed to be.

MICHAEL

“I had that dream again.” Grumbling, Michael started his voicemail to you. You were only hours apart from one another, the first time in months since he had left to begin the world tour. It was only a matter of days, at this point, until you two were together again, but it still felt like it could have been another month. For something that you two promised wouldn’t define your relationship, the distance was becoming a heavy factor that couldn’t be downplayed. “The one where you get tired of my shit and leave before I come back.” Michael’s voice was a raspy whisper, slumber fresh in his throat, but his eyes were staring at the flashing red time on the hotel clock as he wished the back of your head, hair restless down your shoulders, was blocking his current view. “I knew you’d be asleep, but I’m calling to tell you, again,” He chuckled gently, knowing that he could very well sound pathetic, but Michael trusted you. He never knew what was about to happen, but he believed with his whole heart that you would never make fun of him in any way. “don’t do that. I’ll be back soon and we’re going to spend every day together. You’ll be so sick of me, you won’t want to come along for the rest of the tour, but I’ll make you anyway…” Michael could have talked for hours, filled up all the empty space left on your voicemail, but he let out a yawn and decided to try and sleep again before the sun came back. “I love you.” After a moment of silence, he finally ended his impromptu message. He didn’t mean to sound so insecure, but how he felt for you combined with how long he had to be away made the boy with box-dyed hair the very definition of nervous.

lovelive-and-hiccstrid-lover  asked:

Hello it's my 25th birthday today and I wanted a Drabble request maybe a Daddy!Hiccup and Mommy!Astrid please love your Drabbles

Oh, wow, happy birthday! Hope it’s been a great one so far! I’ll see what I can do - I should warn you, I’ve never really strayed into the land of Parent!Haddocks before, so I apologize in advance. XD

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Disappointment

Originally posted by raisarocks

Fandom: Star Wars
Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader
Request: “hello […] I would really love it if you could do a Kylo Ren x Reader when Kylo and reader get into a fight and reader runs away but Ben finds her and tries to make things right?.” - anonymous
&
“Could I request a Kylo X Reader? I don’t really have a plot idea so what ever you want to do is fine!” - anonymous
Words: 1.360

Author‘s note: Uhm, I had a plan writing this. I really had. But the result is very different from what I first imagined. Very different. And I’m afraid it’s also not exactly what you wished for but in a way it still is. I just got carried away. Either way I hope it’s not a disappointment to you, dear anon. Have fun :)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Disappointment

“You let them escape!” General Hux is yelling at you and spit sprinkles the ground between you. At least you imagine it to do so. You haven’t looked down yet, you won’t, but you see the droplets flying from his mouth every once in a while.

The otherwise pale face has turned as red as his hair. The General is furious and from an objective point of view you could even understand him, but he is mad at you so you have to stand your own ground instead of understanding your superior.

Your black pilot’s suit is torn, even smoking at the burned and ripped seam of your arm, everything hurts and it’s just your own anger, your willpower not to give in, that keeps you standing upright. Since they ordered you on the Starkiller base’s command centre you’ve been standing in position of attention, your helmet jammed unter your arm, your focus somewehere between the General’s eyes. No, you won’t look away.

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anonymous asked:

Can you write something involving Connors hair ending up fire truck red thanks to his nice and nephew + Oliver reaction to it?

“Don’t say one word,” Connor says the minute he walks through the door.

Oliver rises from the couch, eager to greet his boyfriend. They’ve been apart for the whole long weekend, with Connor going to visit his sister in Michigan. He’s halfway to the door before he finally takes in the sight of Connor - of Connor’s bright red hair.

“That’s -” Oliver starts.

“Don’t.” Connor stops him. He hangs up his coat and leaves his suitcase by the door. “It’ll wash out in a few days. It’s just the temporary stuff.“

“It’s not that bad.” Oliver waits near the couch for Connor to come to him. When he does, the light catches his hair, and yeah, it’s official. Connor Walsh could have fire engine red hair and still be the hottest man in the universe. Oliver laughs, but lightly, so Connor will know it’s not at his expense. “It’s actually really unfair how hot you look.”

Connor’s gaze slides away even as he reaches for Oliver’s hands and holds them. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I honestly wish I was lying,” Oliver tells him. “Seriously.” He lets go of one of Connor’s hands so that he can lift his own and push his fingers through Connor’s red locks. Softer, he breathes, “So unfair.”

Connor laughs then too, finally, and eases closer. Oliver pulls him in and wraps his arms around Connor’s shoulders. He places soft kiss after soft kiss into Connor’s hair.

“Your niece and nephew’s idea, I take it?”

Connor nods. “Can’t say no to them.”

Love swells bright and hot in Oliver’s chest. It’s too early to think about their own kids, but damn, Connor would make a fantastic father. He loves his niece and nephew so much. He’d do anything for them, just to get them to smile.

Oliver wants to tell Connor that, how good a father he’d be, how much Oliver loves him, but it feels too early. They’re fixing things. They’re good. But Oliver doesn’t want to scare Connor away.

Instead, he says, “I missed you,” because it’s just as true.

“Me, too.” Connor sighs and melts further into Oliver’s chest. His arms slide around Oliver’s waist. “Next time, come with me.”

Oliver smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. It’s something - a big something. Maybe they’re already more than Oliver thought.

“I’d love to.”

omg guys okay so at the tatinof tour in new york, i was entering through the door and me and my friend wanted to know if we could get merch after the show. so, we asked one of the employees, who were trying to help out this crying girl with red hair.

the girl with the red hair responded instead, still crying. i thanked her, and then asked, “hey, are you alright?”

she laughed and said, “i just hit my head no worries.”

i said, “alright! have a nice rest of your day!”

later on, i realized the person i was talking to was martyn’s (phil’s brother) girlfriend, cornelia.

i wish you all happy time and i thank dan, phil, martyn, cornelia, and everyone associated for this awesome once in a lifetime experience :,)

A Flash of Color and Life - Mor’s Court of Nightmares

Series: A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas
Characters: Mor, Cassian, Azriel, Rhysand, Feyre, Amren, Keir
POV: Mor
Ship: Hints of Mor/Azriel, Feyre/Rhysand

Rating: T

Word Count: 5033
Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8321536/

Summary: Chapter 42, 43, and a little of 44 from Mor’s POV (plus bonus scene!).

Mor has always hated the Hewn City and everything associated with it. Today is no exception…

Comments: IT’S FINALLY DONE! This was requested by @feysand16 for Mor’s POV of the Court of Nightmares… & I may have gotten just a bit carried away ^^; But here it is! Mor is such  fun character to write, and I hope I did her justice. The title is a reference to Chapter 42, in which Feyre refers to Mor as “a flash of color and life in this strange, cold place.” Thank you also to @illyriantremors for always being such a kind and willing beta for my fics! I can’t thank you enough!

I am so sorry this took so long to actually write, but I hope you all like it! :)

Keep reading

volleybird-headcanons  asked:

Can I get Akashi/Seijuu-kun scenario where he's being a dork around his shy and awkward S/O to make them happy and laugh more around him? Thank you sweetheart! Btw, you're absolutely beautiful!!


I hope this was to your liking~ 

His s/o was shy. Akashi knew that, whenever they were out in public they had a tendency to hide behind him. So he tried to cater to their needs, the red headed basketball player didn’t want his s/o to feel awkward. But because he was a very famous figure he had to attend dinner’s and stuff like that. Most of the time his s/o was his plus one. But he knew that his s/o hated it.

So today he had taken the day off and decided to stay in and bake with is s/o. He wasn’t the best at baking, but it seemed they liked to revel in the fact that he couldn’t do it well. So he decided to play a bit dumb. Sure he wasn’t telling the truth, but still seeing his s/o smile at him made him feel slightly light headed. He wished they did it more.

“Sei-chan!” His s/o grumbled as he looked up and tilted his head. Did he do something wrong again? Oh he must have accidentally added more milk than what the recipe required him to add. The icing was looking way to watery.

Even though they looked a bit annoyed they felt proud. They could actually do something better than the red haired male, “Start again, the recipe is right in front of you.”

The red haired male smirked slightly, “I can’t seem to pay attention to it.”

“Why?”

“I can’t seem to take my eyes off of you.”

Their cheeks became a dark red as they turned around, “ [ Name ] my dear?” He asked placing the blue bowl down on the counter as he saw them covering their face with their hands. He gently wrapped his arms around their waist as he placed a kiss against their neck.

“ [ Name ],” he whispered out huskily as they felt their cheeks become an even more flustered.

“S-Sei!” They exclaimed as he chuckled and gently kissed their temple. He walked away to try and continue the icing. His s/o sighed gently as they rubbed their temple’s and started to cook again. A couple minutes of the red haired basketball player staring at his s/o he decided to start his icing once more.

Akashi’s s/o chuckled “Sei-chan your doing it wrong,” The male sighed as he looked at the icing he was gently stirring. How could he even be doing it wrong? Sure he was the Emperor of the Court, but he couldn’t bake for the love of him. Cooking was different, he could cook anything. But baking. That was another story.

“What did I even do wrong?” he asked as they lifted up the spatula and gently smeared the frosting against his nose. The red head’s eyes widened as they let out a giggle.

“Did you know you have icing on your nose?” They asked innocently. As a smile flashed on his face. A real wide smile. A smile that made their heart skip a beat. But all of a sudden they felt the sticky frosting against their cheek. They squeaked as Akashi chuckled.

“Did you say something [ Name ] dear?” And that was how you spent the rest of your Sunday, and eating cupcakes with no frosting.