they should never even hold hands

anonymous asked:


You guys are lucky I have like, a mega list of these lol.

  • Lance sleeps like a corpse.
    • It was something he sort of trained himself to do, mostly because the first time he tried using a face mask at night it got everywhere and his mother nearly skinned him alive
    • so yeah, he’s a log, and will tend to stay in one place on the bed from dusk to dawn
    • Keith on the other hand, tosses and turns like the rugrat he is
    • He’ll wake up with his sheets halfway off the bed and his pillows thrown across the room wondering why he has a huge kink in his neck.
      • oh yeah, because he slept with it hanging over the edge of the bed (-_-)
    • Needless to say their first night sleeping in the same bed starts off great, with Lance relishing in having Keith curl up into his side like a little koala, and they both fall asleep fairly easily
    • but then Keith happens.
      • Lance wakes up in the middle of the night wondering groggily why Keith’s fucking foot is on the pillow and where the hell is his other half?!
      • And, Oh there it is. On the floor. 
      • Like seriously Keith how is that even comfortable you human slinky.
    • so Lance hoists him back up, shifts so that Keith is on the inside of the bed facing the wall, and wraps his limbs around the boy to keep him secure
    • It works, for the most part, but Lance wakes up the next morning without any feeling whatsoever in his arms and legs
      • he doesn’t mind too much though, because goddamn Keith is really cute in the morning
        • Plus Keith feels super bad about waking Lance up and sort of..coddles Lance all day afterwards.
      • so yeah, Lance doesn’t mind at all.
  • Keith is really good a naming smells
    • Like…scary good
    • The team will be walking around on some weird ass planet and Keith will just, without batting an eye, drop a line like:
      • the air smells like wet cotton candy mixed with spit.
      • And the others can’t even be mad because what the fuck it actually does?! 
    • It’s like his superpower or something, and there has yet to be an odour Keith can’t name, or at least relate to something else
      • K: Lance your hair smells like pine tree sap and wet dirt
      • L: …is that a good thing?
      • K: yeah.
      • L: Oh! Okay then!
    • Shiro is actually the one that asks him to stop the most
    • mostly because he grew up with this shit and so many things have been ruined for him
    • like, one time Keith said his hair gel smelled like freshly opened packaged meat, and he’s never recovered
  • Keith is also hella good with kids
    • No one really knows why, but youngsters just flock towards him
    • Hunk calls him the Pied Piper of Children and it would be cute if it wasn’t so goddamn true
    • Every planet they visit that has kids on it immediately run up to Keith, or else hold his hand or cling to his legs.
    • he’s just as confused as the others because I’m not even fun! I just stand here!
      • Lance was super jealous at first, because I have the siblings, so I should be the one who these children worship. and I’m more experienced, why do they love Keith?!
        • It must be the mullet.
      • But after they start dating Lance just finds it adorable, and has to stifle a part of him that really wants kids of his own one day each time he sees Keith bend to pick up a young’un
    • The others tease him relentlessly whenever they see him watching Keith interact with babies. 
      • Lance you’re making the face again
      • L: What face?
      • The ‘I’m so madly in love with Keith’ face
      • L: I’m not!
        • He is.
  • Lance speaks Spanish around the castle
    • At first it was just for fun, singing lyrics and what not
    • but after having a reoccurring nightmare about never seeing his family again, he sort of does it now to try and keep his language alive
      • The other’s don’t really know why Lance has suddenly started speaking strictly in Spanish to Blue, but don’t question it
      • Keith does, because he’s curious, and Lance tells him the reason behind it
        • After that Keith makes an effort to learn some Spanish phrases that he surprises Lance 
        • Lance cries.
          • He denies it, but he did.
        • Keith comforted him, and there was a lot of cuddling involved.
  • Lance’s favourite colour, despite popular belief, is not actually blue
    • It’s grey
      • Like the colour of thunderstorms and rain
      • Or waves as they lap the beach when it’s overcast out
        • Or Keith’s eyes in certain lighting…
      • Not many people know this, except Hunk and Keith, simply because it’s not something he tends to share
      • But Keith makes a point of beginning to collect pictures of storms and oceans from Earth specialty shops whenever they visit alien malls 
        • Lance keeps them all pinned up by his headboard, where he’ll sit and stare at them on days when he’s feeling extra gloomy about missing Earth
        • And if Keith’s with him, he’ll turn off the light and just gaze into his eyes, watching as they shift from a dark indigo to a heavy grey as the shadows play with his irises
      • That usually doesn’t last long though, since they end up making out, both thinking god why is he so attractive! as they let their lips do the talking

Again, stopping myself here. Some of these made their way into one of my fics….

I want that sickeningly sweet type of touchy love. I want to love like we’re always holding hands, like, put our arms around each other. Love like I can’t be in the same room as you without touching you. I don’t care how long it’s been, 2 months, a year, 10 years, or even more. I don’t want it to wear out. Love shouldn’t wear out to quick kisses before work. Holding hands should never grow old. I want to grow old with love. With my love.

anonymous asked:

Omg love your HCs!! They are all so cute!!!! >V< can u please do RFA +V and Saeran x MC first time holding hands? Like what would their reactions be?? Again LOVE your HCs!!! Omg bye!!~~

• Honestly, it wasn’t very long in your relationship you started holding hands.
• Basically it was your first date.
• The both of you were just walking in the park together. Laughing, and getting to know each other.
• And my god you looked so perfect. He actually wanted to just kiss you. I mean, the sun was shining on your flawless skin, the wind blew stands of (H/C) hair in your was breath taking.
• He slowly inched his hand down beside yours, and began interlacing your small, delicate fingers in his larger ones.
• After that, he never really likes going out in public without your hand in his.
• This cheeky little sh-
• After he finally realized his true feelings for you, and stopping pushing everything and everyone away (anti-social much? Me too.)
• He asked you to go to a cat shelter with him.
• After all, Vanderwood didn’t say his partner couldn’t have a cat and just so happen to..bring it over. A lot.
• Does this count as your first date? Well, technically. You’ve hung out a lot, but never really anywhere but the parties and RFA members houses.
• “(Y/N)!!! This cat is just so cute! You should have it! I’ll even pay!”
• “Seven- I- I can’t take care of a cat?!”
• He B E G S.
• And for the first time, he gently grabs a hold of your hand, holding it tightly in his.
• He places a kiss on your cheek, and gives you the cutest little pouty face.
• At this point, you’re a blushing, awkward mess.
• “Uh-m uh..some soft hands you got there..”
• He smirks for a moment, before thinking of the dumbest thing he can say in that moment.
• “thanks, I use a lot of lotion. If you catch my dri-”
• But you never did seem to let go of his hand, the rest of the day, at least.
• You would think it would take a while for him to get all..lovey dovey with you.
• But it was kind of a happy medium.
• So basically, it was the 4th-5th ‘date’
• Really doesn’t want to rush things. He’s a firm believer that love takes time.
• But when it happens, it’s actually kind of sweet.
• You’re lying on his couch, waiting for him to come back in with the breakfast he ‘couldn’t wait to make for you’
• He walks in the living room to check on you, smiling over at your resting figure.
• He can’t help but want to keep walking towards you.
• And soon, he can’t even control himself?
• “Jumin? What are you-”
• He picks you up, and sets you down in his lap, all whilst placing you hand in his.
• And he doesn’t even really say much. Other than he “felt like it” when questioned on what he was doing.
• This was cute, comfortable and all, but..
• “whats that burning smell??”
• “..Shi-”
• okay this is so obvious but.
• Or at least, on your way to.
• It’s a really cold morning, the two of you have been dating for a couple weeks now. So, you decided to bundle up, and grab some coffee.
• Now, she didn’t have gloves. You would think she would, but ohhoho, Nope she is not prepared.
• Thankfully, you have a trick up your sleeve. A smoothhhh move, this way it won’t be awkward to make the move. You go, (Y/N).
• You take off the glove on one of your hands, and hand it to her.
• At this point, she’s looking between you and glove, a bit confused.
• You then place your uncovered, warm hand in her freezing one.
• “What are you waiting for, silly? Put on the other glove~”
• You smooth mother-
• She’s a blushing mess, really. But she adores you.
• Sweetbbyboy
• he’s so innocent. He’s never even held hands.
• One day, you’re playing games with him at his place, and well…beating him.
• “How are you so good at this?!” Yoosung frustratedly says.
• “I guess I’m just a pro.”
• He gives you an 'o really’ look, with the intent of picking up his game.
• But he needed motivation.
• “if I win this next round, you have to hold hands with me the rest of the day. Minus when one of us needs to go to the restroom.”
• He still lost tho, lol.
• But, you couldn’t help but want your own prize.
• “how about we do it anyways?”
• Yes, you’re that couple.
• The one that is always painfully close and always holding the others hands.
• But he loves every minute of it. And so do you.
• It was not long at allll before you help hands.
• Before he got eye surgery, he needed your “help” to get around. So, he wanted you to hold his hand and guide him around so he could get the things he needed to get.
• But he could actually see well enough.
• He just wanted to hold your hand.
• You had butterflies, he had butterflies, you two were honestly just lovey messes on the inside.
• But you loved it.
• (bonus)
• When he got the eye surgery, you had no idea. And he made you hold his hand again…however, something was off. It seemed he was bringing you along more than you were to him..
• “V- can you..”
• You were then cut off by none other than Jumin, who just so happened to be driving by.
• “V! How’d that surgery go?”
• gASP!
• Okay so he was not getting physical ATTT ALLLL!!!
• And this kind of frustrated you.
• Yes, sweetie I know you’re bad with human interaction buT WE HAVE BEEN DATING ALMOST 2 MONTHS PLS LOVE ME.
• So, RFA helped you come up with a plan. A jealously plan.
• Yep, you were gonna try and get Saeran to get all jealous and protective over you. Maybe even get him to get a little closer.
• It started small, You’d have Yoosung start flirting a little with you in the group chat.
• Plan fails, and Saeran just leaves the chats with no word.
• You knew you had to step up the game.
• One day, you and Saeran go out for a walk around town, just casually talking with each other.
• When you 'coincidentally’ run into Zen just up ahead.
• “(Y/N)! Hey! You look cute today!”
• You weren’t expecting him to say that of all things, so you couldn’t help the tiny blush that appeared on your face.
• “Awh, tha-”
• This is when you felt your hand get tightly enveloped by another.
• Saeran was jealous.
• And unafraid to show it.
• “Looks like I’m interrupting a little date~ see you on he messenger, later! Have fun you two!”
• When Zen leaves, Saeran still doesn’t let your hand go.
• “You know..this is actually kind of..nice..” He awkward says.
• From here on, he starts becoming more and more physically affectionate~ thank you, Zen!

the funny feeling in his stomach and the weight that seemed to be bearing down on his chest had been lingering for about ten minutes before jace mustered up the courage to ask alec what was wrong.

“you’re upset about something.” alec looked up from his desk, an emotionless almost forced look on his face.

“i’m not upset about something. why would i be?” alec answered too quickly for jace to be convinced and he sat down on the desk next to alec, who now had his head bowed and was avoiding eye contact.

“i can feel it through our bond,” jace explained slowly, tapping his fingers on the desk. “it started just now. it’s funny because i’ve never felt this kind of emotion through the bond before. it’s like-” jace looked back at alec and was alarmed to see that he was shaking slightly, hands clenched so tightly his knuckles were white and he was biting his lip so hard he was sooner or later going to draw blood.

it fell together like puzzle pieces, dawning on jace like the start of a new day.

“heartbreak.” jace almost whispered and alec exhaled shakily through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

“oh, god, alec, i’m so sorry.” was all jace could manage to say before alec looked up at him for the first time in what felt like years, tears in his eyes and a teardrop clinging to his nose as if for dear life.

“do you want to talk about it?” jace asked carefully and alec shook his head rapidly and jace wanted to cry too because of how lost, how young and vulnerable alec looked in this moment, how shattered.

“i love him,” alec croaked out after a few seconds of silence, voice choked up and raw. “i love him so much, jace.”

“i know you do, buddy. believe me, i know.” jace said in a soothing tone, slowly putting his hand on alec’s back and rubbing.

“i’m so stupid,” alec laughed weakly, shaking his head and wiping his eyes. “i should have known, i should have realized this would never work out. that we come from two different worlds that would only try to tear us apart.”

“hey, hey,” jace put his hand on alec’s shoulder. “you’re magnus and alec. you two are made for each other. this is going to be okay, i promise.”

alec breathed in, tears now streaming freely down his face. “i don’t know, jace. i don’t know.” he repeated as if in a trance and jace took alec into his arms, holding his brother as he finally let a sob escape his lips.

“it will. i know it.” jace assured, even though he didn’t really know, but it was the best he could do, the best he could say and the only thing he could think of to say to his crying brother, who had his face buried in his shirt and was wetting the fabric with his tears. the weight on jace’s chest was heavier than ever and his stomach was churning up a storm.

Hang on To That Feeling


A/N: This is a planned post. I’m going to put a trigger warning on this just in case. This one is a bit different, so feedback would be lovely. 

Word count: 3,278

Originally posted by your-local-killjoy

”Hey Brian, I don’t have much time. What is it?” I asked, struggling holding the phone to my ear using only my left shoulder. 

My fingers moved across the keyboard on the computer without my eyes gazing down once as I continued to type. 

Multitasking had never been my thing and talking on the phone while typing in corrections for the next meeting at work, wasn’t really working out for me. 

“It’s Shawn” he stuttered and then the air in my lungs what punched out entirely. 

Keep reading

ok, so we have ingrained expectations for how big any certain thing should be. like, a tree should be taller than me, insects should be smaller than this (holds hands a few inches apart). so finding a bonsai, an unusually small tree, or a tarantula, shakes those expectations. this picture kinda shows it. most people wouldn’t really expect a bird’s foot to be so large, and its jarring to see it is.

so imagine this ‘jarring’ feeling taken over to an alien world, or an alien to our world. oh! i’ve never seen invertebrates so small! is this their normal size? are they babies? and then the human explains, that nope, most bugs don’t get much bigger.

and maybe even us humans also. our furniture is built to scale for our bodies, their analogous furniture is to scale for their bodies; communicating through video, no one thought anything of it. then we show up and we’re like, 3 times their height and its like, whoa, thought you were taller. a lot of things imagine aliens as being conveniently human-sized and like, what if you’ve got a 3-meter tall Captain which limits what ships you can be assigned to. your coworker is 10 inches tall, so you have to install auxiliary steps and ladders everywhere so they can navigate independently. or or! huge aliens going with the ’humans are cute’ idea build shelves or tunnels along the walls so we can walk around like cats, and they kinda coo over us climbing so high up and back down and thats how we get around their ships

anonymous asked:

For me 'Woman' is one of the songs on the album most about his relationship with Louis - he doesn't want to see Louis with the women has to publicly be with and it's agonising for him when he does. 'He's right where I should be' - ie Harry is saying he should always be by his side but instead you (the person to whom he is speaking) is instead. Part 1

‘Apologies are never going to fix this’ - I get the feeling so many people have said to them 'sorry but it has to be this way’, 'sorry but she had to hold his hand/be with him at that event (even though it should have been you)’ (and to some extent he understands that) but apologies don’t make it any less horrifyingly sad for them. Part 2

The last part 'this thing upon me howls like a beast, you flower you feast’ kills me. It feels an animalistic anguished cry - he watches whilst the person (who is allowed to publicly be at Louis’ side - Woman) flourishes at their expense. Incredible songwriting in my opinion. Part 3/3 thanks for reading.

 **My Favourites

The Children of Merlin ** (8/? | 74,661 | Rated M)

Magnus Bane has everything he could have hoped for: a job at Hogwarts, a chaotic made-up family that he loves more than anything and the freedom of doing what he wants whenever he wants.

When his friends manage to drag him to a Quidditch game, he doesn’t expect it to change his life. For better or worse.

They call themselves the Children of Merlin and they are going to make his life a living hell.

One Show Only ** (6/7 | 25,946 | Rated E)

It’s hard to stay in the closet when the guy you had a one-night stand with two nights ago turns out to be your new partner … but Alec will be damned if he isn’t going to give it a try.

Holding the Stick ** (8/? | 47,064 | Rated M)

Alec Lightwood has dreamed of hoisting Lord Stanley since he was eight. It’s in his blood. He’s spent the last five years trying to make that dream a reality, only managing to fall short each time.

Until a scandal leads to a multi-team trade that sends Magnus Bane his way. One of the top performing wingers in the league. An up and coming star.

And the most handsome man Alec has ever met.

He’s doomed.

Keep reading

Jimin on a date
  • Guy that asked Jimin out on a date: Hey Jimin! Sorry I'm late. Did you wait?
  • Jimin: Not really. I just arrived. Let's go?
  • Jungkook, mumbling while hiding behind a bush: That bastard doesn't deserve Jimin! Jimin had been waiting for over an hour! I'm gonna rip him into tiny little pieces.
  • Hoseok, sitting beside Jungkook behind the bush: I don't know, Kookie. Maybe we should just scare him off and hope that he'll run away from us and never come back.
  • Taehyung, holding binoculars while munching on a straw: Yeah, not gonna happen. That guy looks like if Tori Spelling and Owen Wilson had a child. We need to kill it with fire.
  • Yoongi, adjusting his rifle: Using your hands can be dirty. We don't even know if that guy has a disease.
  • Seokjin, handing out kleenguard gloves: Just to be sure, wear these kids.
  • Namjoon, looking straight into the camera: We&rsquo;re not normal. I know that.
Taehyung takes being mean to you too far Part.8 END

[Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] [Part.4] [Part.5] [Part.6] [Part.7] [Part.8END]

Originally posted by chimcheroo

Y/N’s p.o.v

I felt him tossing and turning beside me all night - but I ignored it. I opened my eyes slowly to be greeted with his face right in front my mine. I felt my heart race, how does this idiot not know that it’s him? That it had always been him? I placed my hand gently on his face, careful not to wake him up. He must be tired from sleeping so late, I pushed away his hair from his face. I felt his leg and arm draped over my body, this was his habit - he loved to hug the person beside him when he was sleeping and to me it was the cutest, most pure thing about him. I caught myself smiling at him. 

“How do you not know it’s you?” I whispered. “You’re an idiot, but I’m a bigger one for not being able to tell you.” I slowly replaced myself with a pillow, and went to go get ready. I made myself more presentable and started to make breakfast for the two of us. I was washing the few cups in the sink when I felt a pair of arms snake around my waist, his arms. I was startled and froze before I relaxed. His head now resting on my shoulder with his head facing in the direction of mine. 

“I do know it’s me.” His morning voice so husky, I could melt into his arms. “I’m the idiot who didn’t figure it out earlier, I’m the biggest idiot for not telling you that for me, it’s also you too.” I put the cup down back into the sink and turned myself around to face him. His grip tightened around me as he pulled me close.

“What do you mean?” I was confused and had no idea what was going on in my head. 

“That someone special, that guy you like. It’s me, right? The password, is my birthday is it not?” He said as he leant his forehead on mine, closing his eyes. 

“Ho- how did you find out?” I shouldn’t have stuttered, but I did.

“I couldn’t figure it out, so I asked the guys for help and they made me realise. I’m sorry I’m so slow.” 

“I’m sorry.” I apologised. 

“What, why? Is liking me such a bad thing?” 

“No of course not! I don’t even have the right to like you in that way but I do. So I’m sorry, because I’d never be good enough for a guy like you. It’s embarrassing, to even think a someone as good as you would even look in my direction.” I tried to wriggle my way out of his hold, but he didn’t let me go. 

“But I just said that I liked you too, when I said that I was the biggest idiot.” He placed a hand on my head and stroked my hair, playing with the ends of it. “I’m the one who should be sorry, I was the one who pushed you around all this time like a coward, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you, and yet here I’ve been in and out of your place as if it’s my own, lying next to you on so many occasions and falling asleep here. I’m the one who should be embarrassed raindrop, not you. You’re beautiful inside and out, you drive me absolutely insane when I see you smile. No one’s ever made my heart beat as fast as you, no one could ever make me feel this way apart from you. I want you Y/N. I’ve always wanted you. I was just too much of a prick to get off my high horse to realise it, I’ve always needed an excuse to talk to you, and picking on you for some reason seemed like a good option, which I know now it wasn’t, actually it was the shittiest idea I’ve ever conjured up, I don’t know why I couldn’t admit to myself that I like you. I’m sorry for making you feel like shit. But at the same time I’m not, because if I hadn’t and you didn’t get sick - I would have never come over, and I would have never been able to realise my real feelings for you. That sounds bad I know but it’s true.” 

“You’re an idiot Kim Taehyung. You don’t even know how surprised and actually happy I was when I saw you that night. When you showed up out of nowhere. I thought to myself ‘getting sick is the best thing that’s ever happened to me’ because I got to be close to you and slowly you seemed to become more attached, you didn’t hate me anymore and we got along.” 

“How is being sick a good thing to you, you had to suffer.” He let out a low chuckle, showing off his box smile that I adore. 

“Because I had you taking care of me.” 

“So where does this leave us? Where do we stand on the relationship status?” He asked as his eyes rounded and looked down at me. 

“If that was your way to ask me to be your girlfriend then the answer’s yes.” He smiled again, his dark orbs dilated. I raised my arms and wrapped them round his neck, getting up on my tiptoes I leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. I pulled away and smiled up at him, in a swift movement he spun the two us around and pushed me against the counter top that was once behind him. 

“You can’t be a tease and give me a small kiss like that.” Without even giving me a chance to reply, he kissed me. The kiss deepened and he lifted me onto the counter top. His hands gripped my waist as my arms stayed draped over his shoulders. My fingers connected with one another as I placed my hands in his morning bed hair. 

I pulled away gently, gasping for air. “Did you brush your teeth Tae?” I laughed.

“Why’d you go and ruin the moment?” He whined like a little kid. “I didn’t brush my teeth no, doesn’t it make our first kiss more memorable?” He wagged his eyebrows like the dork that he is. 

“You’re gross, go brush your teeth. I’ll get breakfast ready.”

“Mmm fine okay, but let me do this again.” 

So before he ran off like a little kid, laughing to himself as if he had taken great victory, he stole one last kiss. 


anonymous asked:

Chim chim is precious and should be protected


someone get me a bull horn so i can SCREAM THIS MESSAGE FROM THE ROOFTOPS BECAUSE

Originally posted by hajimajimin


Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin


Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin


Originally posted by jikookshandshake

WHO NEVER FAILS TO BREAK MY HEART (pls hold my hand chimz)

Originally posted by sosjimin


Originally posted by itschiminie


Originally posted by urnotnamjoon


Originally posted by jkisart

AND EVEN MORE LOVING (he loves his members so much i cri)

Originally posted by park-jimizzle


Originally posted by cute-pale


Originally posted by bangtan


tl;dr - please love pjm. because he is soso beautiful inside and out. he was made to be loved <3

Originally posted by wellhell0therenicetomeetyou

She’s Testosterone 2

Read the Original: She’s Testosterone 
Words: 16k
Genre: 60% Crack, 35% Fluff, 5% Smut. Gender Bender!Au
Summary: Drop dead gorgeous, cute and sassy - you adore your best friend. But is there more beneath the surface? Who exactly is Min Yoonji?

Disclaimer: Includes cross-dressing as the opposite gender. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with the subject matter. Viewer discretion is advised. 


“Are you okay?”

The voice instantly makes you stiffen but you don’t move a single inch, buried under your thick blanket. You’re curled into fetal position, a small lump on the mattress and pretending to be fast asleep. You listen to a long sigh and thankfully, the next second the light switches off and you hear the creak of the other bed on the other side of the room, a blanket being thrown open and then-


The way you tug the blanket down from over your head to your nose, eyes slightly peeking out, is excruciatingly slow and cautious. Your heartbeat pounds into your eardrums and you swallow your mouthful of spit hard. She’….he’s-….Yoonji is…god whoever this person is - your best friend is lying on their bed, eyes shut tight and beginning to fall into endless dreams.

The wash of moonlight slightly trickles past the curtains, casting a white glow onto your best friend’s face. Her hair has returned to the way you’ve always recognized, length at her shoulders and her lips are naturally tinted pink - undeniably gorgeous and everything you’ve known. The longer you stare at her from across the room, the more relief you get and the corners of your lips upturn into a tiny smile.

Whatever you saw in the bathroom was a mistake. Your eyes were just playing tricks on you.

That’s right. She’s Yoonji.

Keep reading

I Don’t Laugh

Prinxiety - [Prince (Fanciful Side) x Anxiety]

Summary: Anxiety claims he never laughs. [WARNING THIS IS A TICKLE FIC]

I love feedback! Critique is greatly appreciated!


Keep reading

This season has been great, but something about it just isn’t my specific cup of tea. And then I realized what it is was. 

There have been no moments as truly uplifting as when Zach Rance nominated Nicole and Cristine, and he said that if you looked up floater in the dictionary there would be a picture of Cristine and Jenn City holding hands, and proceeded to call Nicole a froot loop dingus. And to make it even better, Nicole fucking cried afterwards. 

I will probably never experience something so chaotic and pure like that ever again, but at the very least, my children should. 

anonymous asked:

sTeReK 15?

Sterek, The Way You Said “I Love You”

#15 Loud, so everyone can hear

“Because I love you!” Stiles shouts, and then immediately sucks in a hard breath, eyes bulging wide in horror and disbelief. Did he really just…

Derek’s own eyes go wide as well, though the rest of his face remains carefully frozen. Scott looks like he swallowed a bug. So yep, Stiles really just. He did that. In front of basically everyone he knows.

“I mean.” He starts and stops. His dad’s got an unimpressed eyebrow raised in his direction. Cora looks like she’s fighting back mean laughter. This is not the direction any of them probably expected this newest argument between Stiles and Derek to go, but none of them seem exactly shocked by it. 

Except for Derek.

“Okay, so.” Stiles shakes it off and launches back in on the topic at hand. “Tabling that embarrassing outburst for the time being, I’m still right and Derek still shouldn’t be the one who plays bait for this asshole.”

“Why, because you just can’t bear to live without him?” Isaac smirks, rolling his eyes.

Stiles grits his teeth and digs his fingers into his thighs to keep from punching the douchebag. “Because the warlock is expecting it. We need the element of surprise on our side here, and Derek playing martyr yet again won’t give us that.”

The group easily falls back into battle planning mode then, and even if they don’t necessarily forget Stiles’ heated confession, they’ve got bigger fish to fry at the moment and they all know it. Derek included, who shakes his head minutely when Stiles starts talking, and then pipes up with an idea for a new plan as though nothing ever happened. 

Stiles is outwardly grateful for Derek’s composure, but internally bereft. He can feel a hollow point in the center of his chest appear and slowly grow.

Later, when the blood has been shed, and the bad guy has been slain, and Scott is offering up his Hallmark card platitudes to those who need it as they shuffle their way towards a shower and a bed. Later, when they’ve all somehow survived another life-or-death go around with another big bad and don’t have the energy to wonder if the next one will finally be their last one…

Later. Derek falls into step beside Stiles, and asks, without looking at him, “Did you mean it?”

Stiles rolls his shoulders and stuffs his hands firmly into his pockets. He lets his eyes obsess over the grooves in the battered blacktop they’re walking across to get to their respective vehicles. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Derek.”

“Don’t tell me you’re in love with me in the middle of a fight then.”

Stiles stops walking and turns on him, throwing his arms out into the air uselessly. “Fine! Shit. I’m sorry, alright? What do you want from me?”

Derek purses his lips thoughtfully for a moment. Then bites down on the tiniest of smiles and steps forward, into Stiles’ personal space. “I just wish I had been brave enough to say it first is all.”

Stiles blinks. Forgets how to breathe. Blinks again. “Wait. What?”

Derek shrugs one shoulder and pretends to study his shoes while unsubtly inching even closer. “I’m just saying. We should probably take turns with the romantic declarations, or I’ll never actually get the chance to tell you I love you too.”

Either Stiles passed out at some point or this is a very crass prank. 

But Derek takes his hand then and holds it like it’s sacred. Like it’s normal

“Holy shit, pinch me,” Stiles whispers.

Derek winks, and looks like a complete dork while he does it. “Maybe later.”

Stiles has never been more in love with him.

anonymous asked:

could u tell us more abt Sven/Keith? i saw u mention that they were a thing in previous voltrons n got curious thanks

They weren’t


If any couple should have been a thing.. 

Like, Keith and Sven were obviously the closest two out of the 5 (I think it was like Hunk/Pidge, Keith/Sven who were the closest buddies), and Sven was kinda older and more experienced and seemed like he’d be the leader, but Keith was, and Sven was second in command. Which seemed kinda odd, but was never explained why it was like that. (this is what I think VLD is trying to do)

And it’s obvious (both in Golion and Voltron) that Sven meant alot to Keith, but we never get the reason.

And that, combined with Keith’s seeming lack of interest in Allura, who the american version made inlove with Keith (wasn’t the case in golion) and some funny changes to the dialog, I think made it very easy to get the impression Keith was gay for Sven haha (in Voltron, less in golion) atleast until the special commissioned episodes forced Keith and Allura together.

Like the scene where Allura takes the black lion, in golion they are all complaining about her and saying how “Sven” would have never done that, and Keith is the only one who doesn’t mention “Sven” and supports Allura piloting black. 

But in Voltron they made Keith be the only one who says the “Sven would have never done this” line, and combined with Allura’s romantic feelings for him in this version and how he keeps shutting her down all the time, it just becomes really funny 

Then you also got “Sven dying” in Keith’s arms

The happy reunion where they hold hands and look into eachothers eyes

The original ending where Keith lets Lotor destroy Voltron to save Sven’s life

I dunno, I think even back then that relationship really stood out, but was never explained. So I think it left alot of room to do something very significant with it this time, and I wouldn’t be surprised if when watching the old series before making vld the vld staff were all

 “He loves you”

and then went all TOMODAAA and wrote them the love story they deserve in VLD haha (cause seriously if any two characters should have been the “gay couple”…)

But you kno, in DotU Keith ends up with Allura (for the american audience). Sven and Romelle were an actual thing in both, but in Golion they dun end up together either (cuz Ryou dies)

So obviously they could have gone with those two relationships too and just developed them into better more believable love stories than they were in the original, but I just wouldn’t be surprised if they decided to go the Keith/Sven way either, because well, there was definitely a base there imo.. 

Anyway, @misterpoofofficial is the fandom’s expert on vintage Sheith, so maybe they can expand on the whole Sven/Keith thing more

anonymous asked:

reddie prompt: petnames !!!!!!!!!!

hiya anon-friend! tysm for the prompt ♡ this is eddie discovering the best way to make richie flustered and i’ve honestly written some variation of this like a thousand times but idc it’s cute maybe? i hope you like it. they see the movie the usual suspects so it’s 1995 or so and they’re whatever age that makes them, 17? idk. spoilers for that movie too lmao and this is the voice richie tries to do but probably way less charming.

It’s been almost five months since Richie and Eddie started dating. Five months since Eddie’s birthday and the awful cake Richie made and the even worse song he wrote and Eddie with a crush already, a crush always, just needing a kiss and a confession, and then it’s done. They’ve been practically married for years anyway, everyone says so.

They go on dates, sort of, though honestly it’s not a lot different to how they’ve always been. The school field gets turned into a shitty paintball course for the summer and all of them go together and Richie either uses Eddie as a human shield or protects him so thoroughly Eddie has to spend forty minutes afterwards murmuring soothingly and rubbing arnica cream into the vicious purpled bruises spotting his stomach and shoulders. Mike shows Richie how his quad bike works and they take it out across his farm for a picnic, Eddie holding onto Richie so tight there’s no way he’s breathing easy, yelling the whole time. Richie not breaking properly and almost running the bike into the river. Getting ice cream and arguing about who has the better flavour the entire time they eat, sharing anyway so it doesn’t even matter.

But more often than not, it’s the Aladdin, holding hands in the dark and sharing candy and popcorn and Richie getting shushed by six separate people in two hours. Honestly, Eddie kind of loves it, kind of loves the way Richie watches movies, reacting to everything hugely, sharp gasps and barked laughter, punching Eddie in the shoulder when there’s a twist because he never sees them coming. It’s way more endearing than it should be. It should be annoying as hell and Eddie definitely tells him it’s annoying as hell, but secretly he loves it. He loves it all.

Tonight it’s The Usual Suspects, and Richie falls half in love with Benicio Del Toro in black and red, with his voice all slurred and clumsy and strangely lilting, and afterwards he keeps trying to imitate it, giggling wildly, one arm slung across Eddie’s shoulders.

Han’me th’fucking keys ya cocksucker, what th’fuck,” he rasps, briefly pressing his face into Eddie’s hair and then pulling away.

“Oh, so… so you’re in love with a six foot Prada looking motherfucker now? How am I supposed to compete with that? Do I have to start dressing like I’m from the… the fucking rat pack or some shit?”

“No, Eds, you’re Keyser Söze, all unassuming with a fake limp and shit but secretly a fucking savage. Keyser Söze can wear roller rink shorts every day if he wants.” Richie elbows him gently in the side. “I’m the tall Puerto Rican model.”

Eddie laughs. “Sure you are, sweetheart,” he says, and it’s nothing really, just a word, just fake scorn, just a joke, but Richie reacts like he’s been tazed. His laugh trips over itself and the high points of his cheeks flush smudgey pink. It’s a moment, a split second of strangeness, and then he’s back to normal, going over his favourite parts of the movie again, doing Kevin Spacey’s voice too, mild and flat and mummified.

They go back to Richie’s, because his parents are almost never there, because they probably wouldn’t notice them even if they were, because Eddie’s mum looks at Richie like he’s patient zero. It’s fucked up, honestly, so Eddie tries to make up for it by being there as much as possible. As much as he can. After school and on the weekends and now that it’s summer, he practically lives there. It’s mostly because Richie makes the best grilled cheese on the entire planet. It’s mostly because he wants him to know that someone’s thinking of him, almost always.

They hang out in the living room, sprawled out across the couch together. Eddie hums under his breath, plays with one of Richie’s hands, tugging at his fingers, dragging his thumb over the cut wave of his knuckles. Richie is talking, fast and blurred and incoherent, and all Eddie can think about is the way his voice had hitched when he’d called him sweetheart, the way his cheeks had flushed, like the pinked edges of a bruise. Richie Tozier, the Trashmouth, who calls Eddie obnoxiously cheesy nicknames roughly ten thousand times a day, tripped up by something said like nothing, just a laugh and a word. It’s… interesting. It’s kind of amazing, actually. Eddie licks his lips.

“Shut the fuck up,” he says, and then he says, “baby.”  

Richie stutters to a stop, and his cheeks flare pink again, like red dye dropped in water, a cloud of a blush, and his hand curls into a fist under Eddie’s palm. He wrinkles his nose, pulls his free hand through his hair, and his eyelashes flutter and then settle closed, sooty black against his skin. He looks unfocused, like he always does when he isn’t wearing his glasses, kind of naked and young and soft.

“Okay, but you can’t just say that to a guy,” he says, opening his eyes, shaking his head like he’s clearing it, like he’s settling back into his body. “Or, I mean at least give me some fucking warning before… before-”

“What, calling you baby?”

“What the fuck,” he whines, pressing the backs of his hands to his cheeks. “You’re obviously the baby.”

“Sweetheart,” laughs Eddie. “Darling, baby angel.”

Richie throws himself at Eddie, pressing his palm over his mouth and bearing him back onto the couch, and Eddie laughs, helplessly, teeth scraping against Richie’s skin, and he tastes like the sticky blue raspberry candies from the movies, like buttered popcorn, sweet and salt.

“Have you even washed your hands since the movie? That’s disgusting,” says Eddie, into his palm. “Baby, you’re disgusting.”

Richie grumbles against Eddie’s neck, mouth warm and soft, and he moves his hand from Eddie’s mouth and tucks it into the collar of his shirt instead, so his knuckles brush his collarbone. He’s heavy, bigger than Eddie is, all long limbs and tangles, but Eddie think it’s nice, really, the way they fit together. Richie’s knees and Eddie’s thighs and the slope of their shoulders, curved towards each other.

“Eddie Spaghetti,” he hums, against Eddie’s throat. “You can’t beat me at my own game.”

“Your game is weak,” laughs Eddie. “You’re fucked, puppy.”

Richie wriggles in place, whines and tugs at Eddie’s t-shirt and kicks his feet, his mismatched socks, playing at a tantrum. Eddie grins, wraps his arms around him to keep him still, pushing the back of his t-shirt up so he’s touching skin. 

“Call me puppy again and we’re getting a divorce,” says Richie, pulling back a little, pouting cutely.

“No we aren’t,” says Eddie, contentedly. “I love you, puppy.”

“Fuck you,” whispers Richie, and he’s scarlet now, blushing all the way to his ears. “Love you too, Eds.”

They fall asleep there, on the couch, tangled up. And Eddie is woken up an hour later by the alarm on his watch, telling him he has twenty minutes until curfew, just enough time to get back. He struggles out from under Richie, who protests sleepily, hair everywhere, mouth slack, and he grabs his backpack, shrugs it on.  

“We’ll leave soon,” says Richie, words thick and slurred. “Whole new world, you ‘n me an’ those other assholes.”

“Yeah,” hums Eddie, leaning down to kiss Richie’s forehead, his crooked knuckles. “Losers club take on the open road.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Me too, baby,” says Eddie, and he touches Richie’s hair one more time, winds a curl around his finger and lets it go, and then he leaves, shutting the front door behind him as quietly as he can, and heading home.

Coming Home to Me

On the day they met, Dean Winchester is four years old.  Emblazoned on the front of his light blue teddy T-shirt are the words I Wuv Hugz, and everyone who’s ever met Dean can verify the accuracy of this statement.

Everyone who’s ever met his new neighbor, Castiel Novak, knows the opposite is true.  It’s 1983, and though terms like Asperger’s Syndrome and touch aversion have yet to seep into public consciousness, Cas had been sure to convey his displeasure to anyone who’s ever tried to hug him without his explicit consent.

As such, both the boys’ parents watch with considerable apprehension as Dean toddles up to the newcomer, ready to bestow upon him the signature Winchester greeting. 

He throws his pudgy arms around Castiel’s slight shoulders, squeezing him as tightly as his little body will allow. 

Castiel’s haggard single mother, Naomi, squeezes her eyes shut and braces herself for the ear-splitting wail that is sure to follow.  To her surprise, there is none.  

Instead, when she dares to look again, Cas is, for the first time in his short life, expressing physical affection, his thin arms wrapped delicately around Dean’s shoulders.  

In a voice so soft no one but Dean can hear it, Castiel murmurs, “Hello, Dean.” 

It’s now 1988.

Dean Winchester is nine years old, down a parent, and up a…well, he’s hesitant to refer to Cas as like a brother, though adults in his life have described it as such.  It just feels wrong to him, for reasons he has yet to put his finger on. 

Regardless, Cas has become remarkably close, mostly because his mother – a single parent, struggling to make ends meet – is almost never home.  As his closest neighbors and closest friends, Cas ends up spending more time at the Winchesters’ house than he does at his own.  

Dean still wuvs hugz, though he’s now less willing to admit to such, and Cas, miracle of all miracles, still never fails to return them.  Indeed, Dean is one of the few people Cas will willingly touch.

At present, the boys are cuddled up on Dean’s lower bunk while young Sammy snoozes above them, a rerun of the Three Stooges buzzing on Dean’s fuzzy, black-and-white TV set.  

99% of the time, Cas doesn’t understand the humor, fails to see the amusement in watching three people brutalize one another.  But he enjoys hearing Dean laugh, the feel of his warm breath against the back of his neck.  It makes him feel comforted.  

It makes him feel home. 

Contentedly, Cas closes his eyes.  He’s just drifting off when he hears Dean say, “Oh.  Hi, Daddy.” 

For some reason, he sounds nervous.  

When Cas blinks open his eyes, he sees why:  John is standing in the doorway, glowering at them, a strange sort of contempt darkening his glassy eyes.  He’s yards away from them, leaning in the doorless entryway to the boys’ room, but Cas can smell the pungent stench of alcohol wafting off of him.

“You boys’re too old to be doin’ that,” is all he mutters, before staggering away and leaving the confused duo with the vague but pervasive sense that they’ve done something wrong.  

Cas glances over at Dean, who’s now worrying his lower lip and won’t meet his eyes.  

Cas pats his hand.  “My mommy smells that way when she gets sad,” he offers. 

For some reason, it seems to help.

It’s now 1996, and in that very same room, the boys are having a slumber party.  Of course, they’re not allowed to call it a slumber party, because they’re boys over the age of twelve, and rules of social conduct dictate that it be called hanging out.

But, essentially, it was a slumber party.

Cas skipped a grade, while Dean was held back one, and as such, they haven’t seen as much of one another as either party would have liked.  

Still, Dean is popular, and surprisingly, so is Cas:  yes, he’s undeniably nerdy and not a little weird, but there’s an inherent niceness to him that makes him a pleasant person to be around.

Dean has had the pleasure of witnessing this all evening, as Cas interacts with Charlie, with Gabe, with Kevin and Garth and Benny, and even the little gray mixed breed that recently followed Sam home.  Regardless of what is being said, Cas listens to each of them with his undivided attention, head nodding, blue eyes wide with interest. 

Dean is content, for once, to quietly observe, witnessing his friend for the first time through the others’ eyes.

Later that night, however, when they line the floor like sleeping caterpillars in their multicolored sleeping bags, Dean once again has Cas all to himself, facing one another in the bunk they’d shared all those years ago.  

There’s a flutter in their chests that wasn’t there before, a not-entirely-unpleasant sensation that neither one can place. 

Years later, Dean won’t remember what it was Cas was saying.  He’ll only remember the soft, gravelly rasp of his voice, his crystalline blue eyes as they stared so intently into his own.  

He’ll remember how soft his chapped, full lips felt as he found himself kissing them, the tickle of his faint stubble.

He’ll remember the instant he pulled away, and the long moment in which they just silently stared, a million wordless protests racing through their minds:  it’s the mid-nineties, and the heat of the AIDs epidemic is still fresh in the public’s memory.  It’s by no means a good time to be gay, or anything close it.

More than anything, he’ll remember the exact moment he decided he didn’t care, that nothing in the world mattered more than having Castiel’s lips against his own.

He’ll remember the instant Cas silently agreed with him when he kissed back. 

It’s 2002. 

Cas is going to medical school.  Sam is going to college. 

Dean is going overseas.  

In the end, he really doesn’t have a choice in the matter:  he never had gotten his high school diploma, weighed down by the burden of being his family’s full-time emotional (and ultimately, financial) provider. 

He’d tried so hard to juggle the two, coming home straight after school everyday to clean up and make dinner, to fill the role his mother had vacated when she’d died of cancer years before, and helping Sammy with his homework every evening before he even got started on his own.

He eventually had to give up and drop out of school entirely when John left them, and he had to get a full time job at his Uncle Bobby’s garage just to make ends meet.

But never once had Dean given up on the hope of making his life meaningful, of helping others and saving lives. 

When he was younger, he’d wanted to go to nursing or medical school, perhaps become a paramedic, but as a high school flunky with five bucks to his name, this option is out for the time being. 

So really, his only option is overseas.

Cas knew this, and he knows he should have prepared himself better.  Yet this does little to stop the tears from falling as he holds his fiance’s hands, freshly gifted engagement rings glinting in the evening sun.

Dean smiles that goofy, crooked smile, puts on a brave face as he wipes the tears away.  

“Hey, now,” he says, chuckling painfully.  “Ain’t we talked about this, angel?  You know I don’t do chick-flick moments.”

Cas smiles faintly, nearly argues that Dean loves chick-flicks and they both know it, but he finds he doesn’t have it in him for their usual, lighthearted banter.  

“Promise me you’ll come home,”  he says instead.  

For a moment, Dean’s facade falters, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.  Still, his smile remains fixedly – painfully – in place.  

“I promise, angel,” he whispers.

Eighteen months later, Dean comes home.  Or rather, most of him does.  

They’ll both realize, with time, that Dean lost a part of himself overseas, and it wasn’t just the tip of his now-stubby left pinky finger that he’ll forever use to give Sam wet willies for maximum gross-out factor.  It wasn’t just the majority of the flesh of his left arm and ribcage, that took the brunt of the damage when the bomb went off, the drum-tight, pinkish scar tissue there to remind him whenever he examines himself shirtless in the bathroom mirror.

It’s something intangible, that will make itself evident the first time he ushers Cas away from their bedroom window, mind already anticipating the crackle of bullets and the shattering of class.  The first time he wakes up, heart pounding, to the crashing of a garbage truck or early summer fireworks, every instinct screaming for him to find shelter.  

Dean knows he lost something overseas, a part of himself he’ll never fully be able to recover.

But he’ll be okay.  They both will.  

In time, he’ll finally get his GED.  He’ll go to community college, and then, to nursing school, finally able to fulfill his dream of saving lives, helping others in his own way.  

He and Cas will get married in the fall, and though it will take years of convincing on Cas’s end, convincing that Dean will not become a replica of his father, they’ll have kids:  Claire and Ben, adopted two years apart.  Dean will be startled by how completely they feel like his own.  

They’ll be okay.  In spite of it all, they’ll be okay.  Life will go on, and it will be a good one.

But for now, all that matters is here at the airport, searching the crowd for that messy head of raven hair he knows is waiting for him.  

His heart skips a beat when he finally spots it.  

The years have been good to Castiel.  His shoulders visibly broader beneath his usual beige trench, a veritable sea of stubble framing the familiar, chapped lips.  Eyes, somehow bluer than Dean remembered them, widened when they met his own.  

Dean swallowed.  Make no mistake, Cas had always been gorgeous, but now…damn.

For a moment, the two just stare at each other, neither sure what to say.  

Finally, Dean chuckles wetly.  “Angel,” he huffs, with his best attempt at a cocky smile.  “You’re…you’re all grown up.”

Castiel says nothing.  Wordlessly, he moves forward, strong arms enveloping Dean’s shoulders.  Dean rests his head in the crook of his neck, breathing in a shaky, relieved breath as he feels the familiar prickle of stubble, taking in the clean, soapy scent he hadn’t known how much he’d missed.  It makes him feel comforted.  

It feels like home. 

A soft, gravelly voice rasps gently in his ear,  “Hello, Dean.”