which two are missing

Originally posted by acewest360

HR seemed astonishing to say the least. You watched him in an amusing way as Harry introduced him to the team. “And this..” Harrison pointed towards his right, where you stood. “Is (Y/N), you don’t need to shake her hand either” he quickly added.

HR turned his head around to look at you. His bright blue hues, twinkled in wonder as he stared you up and down shamelessly, making Harry narrow his eyes dangerously at HR.

“Hi” you politely greeted with a small smile and extended your arm forward, ignoring the grunt that left Harry’s lips. He quickly shook your hand, that glint never leaving his eyes as he kept looking at you in wonder.

“(Y/N), what a beautiful name” he grinned taking a step forward. Harry coiled an arm around your waist in a protective way. “May I ask a personal question? Are you, by any chance single? Which I highly doubt is the case, seeing as how stun-“ “She’s with me” Harrison said in a gruff voice, paying no heed to the way he interrupted HR, tightening his hold and pulling you closer.

“Ah of course. My apologies, just couldn’t help myself.” he backed away with a grin. “Yeah, right” Harry grumbled under his breath.

You silently giggled to yourself at how adorable Harrison looked when he was jealous.


Request: Is it possible to get an imagine. Imagine HR flirting with the reader who happens to be in a relationship with E-2 Wells

6

You know what I’ve just noticed? You know what breaks my heart?

In this scene, when Lexa tells Clarke “Ai gonplei ste odon”, and Clarke responds by “No, I won’t accept that”, you can see Lexa slightly smiling.

You’re driven to fix everything for everyone. 

Even in her last moments, Lexa lovingly smiles, and stares at Clarke. She’s staring at the girl who always makes the best decision for her people, the girl who never backs away from a possibility to make peace with her ennemies, the girl who always wants to save as many people as she can. 

With her last bits of strength, she smiles and stares lovingly at Clarke. 

What she finds is partly comfort, because she knows the girl she loves will always be herself. She will always seek the best in life. Even in the worst situations. 

But as we can see, Lexa has tears in her eyes. She unsuccessfully closes her eyes to hold back her tears, but knows some are still escaping. 

Now, do you believe Lexa, Commander of thirteen clans, a long time trained fighter and leader, who is used to suffering in silence, both physically and mentally, who willingly grabbed a sword with her bare hands, freshly and quickly slicing them in the way, would cry? 

Yes, taking a bullet freaking hurts, but Lexa wouldn’t cry at the physical pain.

Lexa is crying, because as much as she finds comfort in seeing that Clarke is, and will always be, herself in any kind of situation, she knows who she’s leaving behind. She knows that she’s once again abandoning Clarke, and that, once again, Clarke will be hurt because of her. Only this time, Lexa wasn’t the one to make that choice. 

This time, they’re not in the cold, dark woods near Mount Weather. They’re in Polis, the place that made Clarke fall for Lexa once again, a place reflecting hope, and life. They’re in Lexa’s home, a place where they exchanged rough, and yet sweet conversations, where Clarke found peace while drawing Lexa in her sleep, where she found Lexa’s fears and hopes for the future; but mostly, where they found each other, going desperately and hungrily after each other’s lips barely a few hours ago.

Lexa was never afraid of dying, but this time, she wishes she could just breathe a little longer, just to lay by Clarke’s side in their bed.

And this time, as Clarke kisses her goodbye, Lexa falls asleep for good, only wishing she could hold those lips against her own forever. 

2

couldn’t decide which one i liked better so y’all can have both

might post a close-up of vax’s armor later ( ᐛ)

Lonely at Christmas

DAY 9 - DECEMBER 9TH

This one is set when (y/n) is pregnant with Darragh.

//

“Lucia!” She heard Harry shout. He never usually shouted at the kids – or anyone for that matter – but he had been sleep deprived any stressed all week, trying to finish up all his work early so that he could enjoy Christmas with his family, which meant that he had gone missing for about two days, locking himself away in his office. Her guess was that the reason for his sudden outburst was due to being interrupted in his work.  

As quick as she could manage with a six month bump, she made her way up the stairs to find Lucia with a tube of red lipstick in her hand and the walls of Harry’s office displaying a range of red designs and patterns.

“Look what she’s done to my work!” He was clearly frustrated- to the point where he was going bright red. “There’s lipstick all over the fuckin’ walls and the song I’ve spent all week working on has been ripped to shreds!”

“Harry, don’t swear!” His wife chastised him, picking the little girl up from the floor; who was staring at her father with wide eyes. “And calm down, there’s easier ways around things than shouting at a two year old!”

“A two year old who should know better than to be drawing all over the walls! How’d she even get to the lipstick anyway? It should be locked away in cupboard so things like this don’t happen.”

“Harry, you’re being completely ridiculous, this is about more than drawing on a wall which can easily be washed away.” She snapped at him. “So don’t you dare take it out on our daughter.”

“Well control your daughter because she’s just sent me back to square one so I have to start all over again to make money for this family.” She gasped in disbelief, anger bubbling inside her. Had she not had their daughter in her arms, she would have told him exactly what she thought of him but he slammed the door in both their faces before she had a chance to say anything- causing the little girl’s lip to tremble and, in  a matter of seconds, there was floods of tears streaming down her face.

//

Althought hurtful and completely unacceptable, (y/n) was willing to forgive Harry for what he had said earlier in the week because she understood that he was under an extreme amount of pressure but, when he failed to even emerge from his office that night and then completely ignored both her and the kids the following few days, she was past the point of being able to reason with him. It was Christmas, and while her friends all had their husbands finally finishing work for a week or so, her own husband was blanking his family; leaving his pregnant wife to sort out last minute gifts, keep the kids in good spirit and organise their family meal for Christmas day.

She was in the kitchen ironing clothes when Amelia came into the kitchen, tears rolling down her cheeks. Immedietely, her mother was at her side, pulling her into a hug and rubbing her back in soothing motions.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” She asked, pulling away from the hug and wiping away her tears with her thumbs. “Tell mama what’s up.”

“I-I,” She could barely speak through the tears, leaning into her mum for an extra cuddle to calm herself- a cuddle which was given with no hesitation. “I made daddy a Christmas card because he’s been really sad and angry and I-I found it in th-the-“ She could barely speak, she had gotten herself into such a state.

“Hey, shh, deep breaths sweetheart.” (Y/N) encouraged, breathing in and out with her.

“Daddy threw my card in the bin.” The tears came back again when she finally let it all out to her mother. “I found it in his bin in his workroom when I went in to see if he wanted to come to our tea party but he shouted at me again because I was being too loud.”

To say that (y/n) was fuming would be an understatement. It was bad enough that Harry had taken his stress out on his children but to do it at Christmas time when they should be happy and excited was completely unacceptable.

“Does Daddy not want us here for Christmas, mummy?” The little girl asked as she hugged her mum again and her mother just squeezed her tighter, feeling her heart break when she realised she couldn’t even answer that question.

//

“What are you doing?” Harry’s deep voice startled (y/n) when he entered Lucia’s room, where she was taking clothes from her wardrobe and packing them into a suitcase.

“Oh, so you haven’t lost your voice then, you’ve really just been ignoring your entire family all week.” She remarked, folding a pair of My Little Pony pyjamas and setting them in the bag. Harry rolled his eyes at her comment.

“I asked what you’re doing.” He repeated in a much more agitated voice. “Where are you going?”

“The girls and I are going to stay with my mum for a few days?”

“How many days will that be? You can’t take my children away from me at Christmas!” He was getting more frustrated by the second, jaw clenching.

“Oh they’re your children again?” She laughed a humourless laugh. “Because the last time you spoke to me, Lucia was my daughter because she done something that every single toddler on earth has done.” She moved to the chest of drawers and began to lift out a few pairs of socks because she honestly didn’t know how long she would be gone. “And do you know Amelia was crying the other day because she thought her own father didn’t want to spend Christmas with her? I get that you’re under pressure at the moment but I’m not letting you ruin our children’s Christmas because you don’t know how to deal with stress.”

Harry pushed the drawer closed with a bang, just missing her fingers. “You’re not taking them away from me.” He declared.

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do when I’m the one who’s been looking after them on my own for the past two weeks.” She shoved past him to quickly zip up the small suitcase and lift it off the bed. “Go and sort out whatever it is that’s turning you into someone who I don’t know and certainly do not like and, if my husband – and the girls’ father – is in there somewhere, he would better hurry up and come back to us because I’m not putting them or myself through this for much longer.” He didn’t have a chance to reply (not that he knew what to say anyway) because she was already out the door and down the stairs and he couldn’t bring himself to stop her- both her and the kids deserved so much better than him right now.

Once the bags were in the car, she returned to the house to get the two girls. It surprised her that Harry wasn’t down yet, refusing to let them go but she was thankful to not have to deal with the argument right now.

“Alright, girls, let’s go.” She announced, lifting Lucia off the sofa and holding out her hand for Amelia to take. They were just about to open the door when Harry came running down the stairs.

“Wait!” He shouted.

“Harry, please don’t.” She sighed, opening the door and urging the little girl by her side to walk on.

“No, I-“ He crouched down to Amelia’s level and opened his arms out for a hug. She hesitated slightly but soon leaned into it and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m so sorry for being so angry, I love you.” He whispered, placing a kiss on her forehead before he rose back up again and placed a hand on his wife’s arm and leaned in to give his youngest daughter a kiss on the cheek. “And you too, munchkin, I love you and I’m really sorry.” The two year old had no other response than to giggle. “Look, I want nothing more than for you to be here with me but I know you deserve much better than an ass like me right now.” He announced to his wife. “Go to your mum’s, have fun and eat and sing loads and whatever else but if you can please be home for Christmas, I swear I’ll make it the best yet. No work at all.”

“Ok.” She nodded, a small smile on her face. “I wouldn’t ever take them away from you on Christmas, you know we’ll always come home.” She assured him with a warm smile. He nodded and returned the smile and then watched as she took Amelia’s hand and walked down the drive to the already warmed up car.

“I love you!” He shouted. “All four of you!”

She simply smiled back at him, placing a hand on the growing baby inside her, who was kicking like mad- it was as if they recognised their father’s love.

//

“Daddy, we’re home!” Amelia ran into the house first, leaving (y/n) to juggle a two year old, three bags and two gift bags full of presents from their nanna. “Daddy?” She asked, running through the landing and into the kitchen.

“Hey princess!” (y/n) heard Harry shout from the door, a feeling of warmth inside her when she felt that her husband was finally back. The smell of ham hit her once she was fully in the door and had set the bags down. Walking to the kitchen with an excited Lucia on her hip, she smiled in surprise when she seen the table fully set and her husband at the stove with an extremely over the top Christmas jumper.

“Wow, what’s all this?” She smiled in bewilderment, taking a good look round the whole kitchen. “It’s only the twenty third, y’know.” She giggled.

“I know, but I got too excited and mum said the ham tastes better if it’s cooked at least a day or two in advance.” He shrugged, lifting the little girl from her arms and spinning her round in the air. “Hello my little monkey!” He cooed at her. “Did you have fun at nannas?”

“Yeah, we got presents!” Amelia answered for the two of them.

“Presents? Where’s mine?” He asked in shock, lifting Lucia up and blowing a raspberry on her tummy, making her squeal and giggle.

“Santa’s coming tomorrow night, you can get presents then.” Amelia answered, bouncing in excitement.

“I’ve got all the presents I need right here.” He smiled, wrapping an arm around his wife and placing a kiss on her temple.

I KNOW THIS QUOTE IS OLD BUT I STILL LIKE IT anyway i hope you had a merry christmas 

anonymous asked:

McKirk AU where Bones has a blog and is writing about stuff and maybe also Jim and Jim finds it someday? (Your AUs are so great, I fell so much in love with them)

  • Writing comes surprisingly easy to Bones, and just such a nice way to kill time. It’s also a nice way to write out some of that pent up anger inside of him, so that Bones actually knows how to cope with his idiot crew a lot better. He writes everything under a false name, changes all names, and posts them on his personal blog. Never any photos, never a mention of the Enterprise. The closest he’ll go to revealing people is naming them Captain, and sometimes The Vulcan, in lieu for anything else. He writes every weight off his shoulders, and it helps. Some days he writes about how much it frustrates him that his Captain is continuously skipping medical checkups (”which were scheduled two months in advance. Two. Months. How do you even miss something I’ve set at least four calendar warnings for?”), other days he writes about how much he appreciates his crew being around (”Nurse C got me a bottle of nicely aged whiskey. After Captain saved our ship – and everyone on it – he’ll probably appreciate drinking it with me. He’s not all bad.”). He doesn’t really tag anything either, so he has no idea how his blog suddenly grows in followers so much. He’s getting an increasing amount of feedback and comments (”How is the lil’ Navigator?” “I can’t believe The Vulcan really said that.”), and it occupies quite a few of Bones’ nights when he’s not hanging out with Jim.
  • All goes well until someone on the Enterprise catches a whiff of Bones’ blog. Bones overhears a few ensigns talk about how the Captain on the blog is eerily similar to Captain Kirk, and Bones instantly panics because what if they find out? Jim, of all people, because Bones has a habit of rambling on about his Captain unnecessarily long, but his readers seem to enjoy it at least, because they’re always commenting about the captain, even going as far as (“So how long have you two been dating?”).
  • But of course Jim finds out about it. Bones is napping on his couch when his doors slide open and Jim bursts through the door. “Are we not dating?” Jim asks, and Bones raises an eyebrow as he sits up straight. “What?” “Your blog.” “… what?” Jim sits down next to Bones on the couch, showing Bones his PADD. “You’re Doctor Bones. Really, your blog name isn’t that secretive.” Jim points out, throwing his legs over Bones’ lap as he’s reciting some of Bones’ earlier entrees. “Can’t believe you wrote about me.” Jim says, and Bones groans and rubs his temples. “Listen, Jim-” “You never write about any of our late night rendez-vous, maybe you should,” Jim says, surprisingly calm under all of this. “I’m not writing about us hooking up. How did you even find this?” “Some Ensign gave me the link and I read it all. Wasn’t hard to figure out it was you, I mean, if you were any less subtle about the ship and the crew you’d note down my log codes.” Jim says, “so I asked you how long we’d been together, and you said we weren’t at all.” “That was you?” "Yeah, and see, it got a lot of likes,“ Jim says, holding the PADD up. “I saw,” Bones says, “I gotta quit my blog.” “What? Why? I love reading it,” Jim says, shifting so he’s leaning against Bones’ chest. Jim’s very good at invading himself into Bones’ personal space, and he’s also the only person who’s allowed to do so. “I loved the one when you were angry at Spock for calling you out on your shitty chess games,” Jim laughs, “which, to be fair to Spock, are pretty shitty.” “Shut up,” Bones says, slowly sliding his arm around Jim’s shoulder, and he watches Jim scroll through endless rows of text. “… And this one, when you were on shore leave for two weeks to be at Jo’s parent-teacher night. You missed me.” “I never wrote I missed you,” Bones counters, and Jim just smiles. “You can tell, though.“ 
  • “Why don’t you tell me all these things in person?” Jim asks later, when they’re lying in bed together. “What things?” Bones asks, eyes already closed, “are you still thinking about the blog?” “Obviously,” Jim says. “I tell you all of that in person, too,” Bones replies. “Just not as beautifully worded.” “That ain’t who I am,” Bones says, “You get real. Online gets thought-through sentences.” “Hm,” Jim just hums, his hand gently running over Bones’ naked chest. “I do like real.” “I prefer real, too,” Bones says, and Jim smiles. Even when it’s not written in this perfectly written form, well thought out and probably rephrased countless times, Bones knows just what to say to him to make Jim feel good about himself.
  • For the first time ever, Bones’ blog entry is just a photo. Of Bones asleep in bed, all messy hair and a stubble on his cheeks. Jim’s awake, though barely so when he takes that photo. He’s in there, too, eyes squinted from his phone’s screen, hair equally messy, chest equally naked. It’s not even a flattering selfie, but it’s one he uploads to Bones’ blog nonetheless. It’s just a simple: ”Message from the Captain“, and ”we are absolutely dating“. It’s the most liked-thing on Bones’ already popular blog. It’s also the last thing on Bones’ blog. Bones simply dubs it a happy ending, and leaves it at that. Because at the end of the day, nothing beats real

I just now realized that almost everything Yuuri said to Victor during the last scene of episode 10 was in Japanese. Don’t judge me; we’ve been told to always assume that when Yuuri and Victor talk, they’re speaking English. 

Which means two things:

1. Victor missed out on information that could’ve helped him find Yuuri faster (not that “my parents own an onsen” would’ve narrowed things down much, but a little information is better than nothing)

AND

2. Victor watched this drunken, half-naked mess of a man with shiny eyes babble in a language he couldn’t hope to understand and had FEELINGS. Like he had no idea what the hell Yuuri was saying except for “Be my coach, Victor!”, but he still had feelings. I can’t.

home

a/n: wrote a little something with herman since people were asking for an imagine with him. him going to the army made me feel super emo so here’s this :-) this should also be gender neutral ♡ i hope you enjoy!

pairing: herman tommeraas x reader

word count: 1,3k

warnings: angst & fluff i guess

masterlist


Herman had left exactly three months ago to go to the army. You felt incredibly proud of your boyfriend for serving his country, but it was hard to keep your relationship when he barely even checked his phone. At first you talked every day, but slowly but surely you two started to drift apart only talking once in a week or two.

You simply missed your boyfriend, which made you feel incredibly selfish since after all he was having the time of his life and it was a once in a lifetime experience for most people.

You hated the fact that you lived in the apartment you two had bought together despite your young age, you hated how big it was for only one person and you hated it the most for all the memories that were in it. The agenda you two had filled out just before he left to mark down the days he’ll be back was thrown across the living room, too painful for you to watch.

From time to time you were about to call him to end it all, ready to explain him that it was too painful to not be able to talk to him or be part of his current life. The thing was, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually do it or to end it by a phone call. You loved him too much to do so, so you ended bottling up all the emotions you had and went on your daily schedule.

Herman obviously was unaware of how Y/N felt, he was glad that he could go home for the weekend for the first time in months. Truth be told in the current state of their relationship he was more eager to spend time in their bed than with Y/N which didn’t feel normal. Their relationship had always been strong despite small fights, but they had never really spent much time apart.

A deep sigh got past his lips, he didn’t know if he was ready to see you again or how he’d act around you. He shook his head in hopes of getting past this sudden feeling of unsureness, opening the door of the small apartment. Much to his surprise the lights were out a rush of worry getting to him. It was unusual for you to be out late due to college.

He quickly took off his shoes and dropped his bag on the hard wooden floor, a small thumping sound coming from the action. Herman looked around the small entrance, noticing the agenda was missing and so were the pictures of you two. He walked to the living room, immediately taking notice of the agenda thrown on the floor. His heart broke a little of the sight of this.

Small sniffling noises snapped him out of his forming state of sadness. The sounds were coming from the bedroom you shared. He felt a little relieved to know that you were safely home. Herman slowly opened up the door, noticing you laying on the bed under the covers.

”Babe?” he softly said, sitting on the bed. You stiffened, you hadn’t realized he had come in or that he was supposed to be home in the first place. You quickly wiped your face with the sleeve of your sweater, lifting the covers off of your face afterwards.

Seeing you made him forget all his previous thoughts and doubts about your relationship, it was replaced with an immense amount of love and worry. You on the other hand did your absolute best to not tear up once again when you saw the face he had. He didn’t deserve to be welcomed home with the sight of his girlfriend crying.

”Hi,” you said your voice hoarse from crying. You coughed a bit in an attempt to make your voice stand out more. He gave you a sympathetic smile, pulling you in his arms to hug you tight. It was and that was enough to make the tears stream down your face again. He was very aware of the fact that you were wetting his shirt, but he didn’t care.

He held you in his arms for a good 30 minutes, just trying to make you calm down so you’d be able to talk together. You pulled away from him, sending him an apologizing look after taking notice of how wet his shirt was.

”It’s okay.” Herman said. His voice was soft and surprisingly calm, despite the situation. He was rubbing your lower back with his thumb as an effort to make you too calm down.

”No, it’s not and you know it too.” you sniffled, before going on. ”We haven’t properly talked in months, I’ve been stuck in this stupid apartment that we got together for months alone. It felt like we had broken up and from time to time I think that’d be the best. You’re having the time of your life and I’m here crying because of you when I know pretty damn well you can do nothing about it. I don’t think it’s healthy for me, but I never can bring myself to break up with you because I love you too much.”

Herman was processing all you had said, feeling really anxious. You wanted to break up? He knew your relationship was going through a rough patch, but he didn’t think it was so bad that you’d want to end it.

”I never knew you felt this way, if I did I swear I would’ve done many things differently,” he told you, his other hand instinctively going to his hair to run his hand through it, only to realize it was too short to do so earning a small laugh from you. ”I don’t want us to end like this, I’ll be back home soon for good and then we can go back to what we used to be. As you said, I love you too much to see this end too.”

You looked up at him, like to confirm if what he just had told you wasn’t a joke. ”What if it doesn’t though? What do we do then?”

Silence. He seemed to be thinking of what to tell you, but quite frankly his mind was blank.

”It probably won’t immediately, so we will just have to work on it like on the beginning we had to. It has to work out, in the end it’s us. You were here when I got my role in Skam, you’ve been here when I suddenly started to get loads of followers. You’ve always been here for me and I want it to stay like that.” His eyes were fulfilled with emotion, all the best memories of his life were with you.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. He always knew what to say to calm you down and make you feel silly in the process. You smiled up at him, you admired him a lot at the end of the day. ”You’re too mature for your age when it concerns our relationship.”

”Are you telling me I’m not mature otherwise?” He arched an eyebrow at you, waiting for answers.

”You’re the guy who got kicked out of a playground with your friends.” You chuckled at the memory, that night he had gotten home super pissed about it.

”What can I say, you make me a different person and I like it. I think I’d be in jail by now if it wasn’t for you.” You let out a quiet ’I agree’ making him playfully punch you in the arm for it. You fell on the bed, pulling Herman along in the process so he was now hovering you.

The only sound that could be heard was the wind softly blowing outside. You stared into his beautiful eyes as he did the same to you. He then leaned in to capture your lips into a sweet kiss, pouring every possible emotion he felt or had felt in it. Your lips moved perfectly in sync, his hand trailing down to intertwine your fingers with his. A smile spread on your face, the familiar feeling of happiness when you were with him surfacing.

You were each others home, everything felt so right when you spent time together. No matter how rough things got, you’d always be there for each other.

here’s part two of yesterday’s fic, which you can read here if you missed it :) enjoy!


When Felicity’s eyes blinked open the next morning at the sound of her alarm, she fumbled to turn it off before grabbing her glasses to check her email.

“Please, please please…” she muttered to herself as she skimmed through her notifications for an email from the office regarding the status of her potential snow day.

Finding what she was looking for, she was about to settle back into her nest of blankets and pillows to spend her day off catching up on some must needed sleep… when she remembered what had happened last night. Suddenly she wasn’t quite so sleepy anymore as embarrassment flooded her.

“Is this the part where you ask me to stay?”

He exhaled and shook his head, “I don’t think that would be a very good idea.”

Duh it wasn’t a good idea, she thought to herself. They had just met a few hours before and, okay yeah he had been a little flirty, but she had been unintentionally way too forward—thanks to her faulty brain to mouth filter— and now there was no way she was going to be able to ever speak to him again let alone make eye contact if they encountered each other in the hallway.

Except that now she was remembering that he had invited her over for breakfast, if they got a snow day, which they did. And she had agreed to come over.

Keep reading

2

bring back the others of org. xiii for khiii 2k15

Listless Harbour.

You were the only person I talked to everyday as I were to you.

How can I not message you each day now it’s impossible

No matter how much I want to just let the day pass without you hearing from me at all as you’re clearly ready to do, as you need to do and get on with your life.

And one day will become two, which will become weeks, months.

I’ll wait for you to miss me while I stare listlessly at the empty Harbour of my days.

While I feel the pain of my phone ring and see that isn’t you making it ring.

I’ll wait for you to feel the way I do again, I’ve just sat at the dock watching your ship silently, slowly and cruely set sail and leave my life.

I’ll await it’s return even though it’s doubtful it ever will, I must wait for that because when you felt as I did I was breathing for the first time.

I was living and I knew exactly why I was living, why I had come so far been through so much to get to this point.

I never had any expectations with you but hopes have a mind of their own and I am bound to them now I will hold on them with all the life and breath that you gave me till there is no more.

And then I will lie at your dock, with nothing left to make a smile I think then you will miss me.

I think then I will miss me to.

@concreteinthebrains
irresistible

summary: her lips are meant to be kissed. shallura
also read on: ao3
part of “the princess and the paladin” series. link to master list here.

notes: sorry for the delay, was too busy getting used to a white coat


When he leaned in to kiss her for the first time, he worried she wouldn’t know what he meant with his lips.

Kissing, after all, was only something he learned—only something he discovered through the cracks of his parent’s fingers when they covered his seven-year-old eyes during steamy parts of romantic movies he didn’t understand; only something he imagined doing in the back of movie theaters as a schoolboy when he felt his voice growing deeper and his shoulders growing broader; only something he experienced maybe once or twice with someone whose name and face he’s long forgotten before he became too busy flying spacecraft in 12-hour shifts.

Kissing was only something he learned—a human thing to do—and whether that translated in space, he didn’t know.

Keep reading

Okay but...

Headcanon that Steve’s son would be just as smol as Steve himself was before Erskine’s formula.

And this kid gets into fist-fights at school all the time, just like Steve did.

It doesn’t matter to this little punk that he’s probably never going to hit a growth spurt and that a stiff breeze could snap him in two; he’ll stick up for himself and anyone else because he doesn’t know when to quit today anymore than his dad did seventy-something years ago.

And all Steve can do is close his eyes and sigh because this will be the fifth time that month that he’ll have to go to the school and have that conversation again with the principal.

But right now there’s this skinny little blond kid grinning up at him with big blue eyes, one of which is black, a bloody nose, and two teeth missing. All Steve can think is he needs to get Natasha to up the supply on band-aids and thank goodness those weren’t permanent teeth that got knocked out.

Steve asks him if he won, but it takes his son a minute to answer because Aunt Wanda is fussing over him and trying to clean him up and muttering under her breath that she’d like to get ahold of whoever did this to her favorite nephew; Pietro is ruffling dusty hair while asking how many punches he got in; Tony is in the background asking for names and numbers because he wants to sue the school for negligence; Aunt Natasha is waltzing in from the store with about fifty different first aid kits because she was trying to find at least three that would fit comfortably into Roger’s kid’s backpack.

But when Steve’s son finally answers him, he just kind of shrugs and holds up a hand with split knuckles and says “Well, I think I knocked out the eighth grader’s incisor,” and Steve just stands there like “Son I know you didn’t start it but you can’t just—” and he doesn’t get any farther because Bucky is suddenly breathing down his neck saying “Sorry I can’t hear you over the sound of how many times I had to take someone’s skinny butt to the hospital to get their nose packed" And Steve’s son of course knows how his dad used to look and he just blinks like “good grief Dad you could’ve died” and Bucky’s like “Well his nose healed fine but there was nothing they could do about the little man syndrome.”

@quaintandcuriouspuppet @ladyjthewriter @imagine-that-cap @anniehintonlove
Sideblog URL

https://tooru-dragon.tumblr.com/

Prolly nothing all too many peeps r gonna be interested in, but this is gonna contain content for any of my other fandoms (or just basically what I’m watching at the time). Like I said, I started watching other stuff to keep myself distracted from the new dr game’s spoilers, etc.
I’m currently watching two 2017 Winter anime, which are
-Demi-chan wa Kataritai
-Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid

By the end of March Zero Escape: The Nonary Games should apparently come out on steam and I’m gonna give 999 a try.

So yeah, basically, that’s my sideblog for everything other than Danganronpa so I can keep on ronpa-ing on here in peace without the influence of other series/fandoms since y’all r here for that sweet DR. It’s prolly gonna take a few days to set up though asfndjffd

My focus will stay on DR and requests still, I’m doing this sideblog thing just to satisfy my own needs.
I’ll work on requests today, but I’ve been having some IRL issues lately so I’m prolly slow, apologies.

Theory time!

What if, now I’m saying WHAT IF,

Lance gets captured in season two, which would explain why he is missing in a lot of the season two trailer shots. And Shiro believes that if they trade places it will be better off. He(shiro) goes against the rest of the paladins orders to rescue/save Lance. Which would explain the “Keith if I don’t make it out of here..” Line that we witnessed in that last tease video. I hope I’m wrong because Lance, just like all of the paladins, should be protected but, what if?