*waves hand

Dunno if i should do more of those…

One week until the con! Chibis for stickers. I had to adapt my chibi style heavily since my usual kind of half chibi-ish style doesn’t fit small stickers. So this will have to do.

anonymous asked:

“Who wouldn’t be angry you ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!”

For the ridiculous sentence prompts thing (that I’m not taking any more of rn)
I love this prompt so much lmfao so I really hope you enjoy this.

Bucky wipes the back of his right hand across his mouth and looks at it. The blood there is bright red, stark in contrast to his pale skin. He licks the rest of it from his already healed lip and then looks back up at Sam. “I take it you’re mad then.”

Sam waves his hand, presumably shaking out the twinge that usually comes when you’ve punched someone in the face, and says, “Of course I’m mad! Who wouldn’t be angry? You ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!”

“Two and a half,” Bucky corrects.

Keep reading

Prompt: Instead of having hajime and nanami met by crashing into each other, they met on the road while playing pong traffic light with each other!

A/N for selebmemble who has been so good to me at AO3

Red is for Stop and Play - hinanami

Hinata didn’t know that traffic posts could do that until he stopped at one.

An invitation blinked at him on the screen and the girl on the other side of the street smiled, her hand was on the corresponding screen while her other hand waved. He alternated between staring at his screen and at her in confusion. This was certainly the last thing he’d expect when he decided to take another route. Since when did stoplights offer the option of sending invites? An invite to what exactly?

Screw it. It’s not like this is anything dangerous. He doubted that the government would allow public installation of anything shady. So with skeptic anticipation, he finally accepted the invite. Then he was greeted with yet another of surprise.

It was a game of ping pong and one that he was losing horribly at.

He didn’t even know it was possible to lose this devastatingly despite his formidable experience with those ancient consoles that only played ping pong against a computer. But his opponent was no computer but the girl just across him. He stole a glance at her and saw an impassive face in contrast to his frustrated one. She was racking up points faster than the seconds passed by as they played. He was fighting a losing battle but even so, he was having fun. So much fun in fact that he was caught by surprise when the game ended abruptly as the screen turned green with their scores on it.

It took him a moment to remember that he was supposed to cross the street.

And then he remembered that the girl was just on the other side and he would eventually cross paths with her. That instantly got him nervous and he could feel his hands go clammy as he hesitantly walked forward. The girl stayed where she was, waiting expectantly. He wondered for a moment if he should turn back but it was too late. He had already crossed the street and was staring at her awkwardly.

“Uh…” He started and immediately regretted it. What was he supposed to say? Wait, was he even supposed to say anything in the first place? Weren’t they just two strangers and this was just a one time thing? No, actually he needed to rephrase that last one.

“Good game.” She smiled at him and it was a good thing that she talked more after because he was at a loss for words. “There’s always no one here when I pass by and I thought I’d never get the chance to play this but then you came along and it was fun.”

“I had fun too.” He replied lamely and he mentally kicked himself for such a bland reply. “You were awesome. You totally handed my ass to me. I don’t think I can beat you at this.”

“It’s not just about winning, I think.” She pondered out loud. “Hey, actually are you free? There’s a few games in the arcade that only work with two players and if you want to, could you play games with me?”

Hinata felt his cheeks warm at the invitation. “Um, not to sound rude or anything but shouldn’t you ask your friends for this? I mean, it’s not that I’m turning you down or anything but are you sure you just want to ask a stranger you just met for this?”

Her lips frowned in light of this as she mumbled, “But I had fun with you… I guess that did sound like I was rushing into things.”

And just as he heard her, he felt like he had just kicked a puppy. Well a few games wouldn’t hurt, right? “I’m Hinata.” He suddenly said.

She raised her head and her eyes stared at him with an intensity, searching. Until a light finally filled her head and sparkled in her eyes. “Nanami.” She smiled.

“Alright, Nanami. Where’s the arcade you were talking about?” He smiled back. “I’m going to beat you at some game other than ping pong.”

Nanami giggled and he thought that it was a pleasant sound that matched her playful smile quite well. “I don’t plan to lose in any game.”

And she didn’t. But even so they kept playing. They met up after that on another day and then another. Until their meetings have become a regular thing for them. Nothing’s different from their first meeting, they’re still two people just playing games against each other. If anything’s changed it’s that somewhere along the way they had become friends. They were just strangers across the street at first.

Before they crossed each other’s paths, they had stopped and played ping pong.

agent-jaselin  asked:

Teen dad au: Ford meeting Molly for the first time.

I am not 100% pleased with how this turned out but I decided to give it the classic “good enough” stamp and set it loose into the wilds of the Internet.


               “Thanks for inviting me to visit for Thanksgiving,” Ford said to Fiddleford. Fiddleford waved a hand airily.

               “It ain’t no problem.  The more the merrier.  And ya didn’t seem too eager to be goin’ back home.”  Fiddleford walked up to the door of the cozy-looking farmhouse and opened it. “If ya don’t mind me pryin’, why’s that?”

               “The holidays are just a bit uncomfortable at home,” Ford said cagily. He followed Fiddleford inside. Fiddleford pointed at a basket next to the door.  

               “Take yer shoes off, please.”

               “Okay.”  As Ford slid off his shoes, he heard a baby crying.  “Is that one of your nieces?” he asked.  “You have two, correct?”

               “Yes, but they won’t be here ‘fore the actual day of Thanksgiving. Must be Molly.”  Ford followed Fiddleford down the hall.  

               “Who’s Molly?”  

               “Molly’s our farmhand’s daughter,” Fiddleford replied.  

               “Ah.  Wait, you didn’t mention that you have a farmhand,” Ford said.  Fiddleford shrugged.  

               “Didn’t know I needed to.”  The front door opened.  There was a loud bark, and Ford was tackled to the ground, getting licked by a large dog.

               “Joel, heel!” a familiar voice said.  The dog was pulled off of Ford.  “Sorry ‘bout that.  He attacks strangers.”  Ford looked up at the person who had rescued him.  His eyes widened.

               “…Stan?” he asked hesitantly.  Stan stared back at him.

               “Ford,” he said shortly.

               “Stan, did ya catch Joel?” a voice asked.  Another teenager appeared, just behind Stan.  He was clearly one of Fiddleford’s siblings; he shared the distinctive nose.  The teenager stared at Ford.  “Who’s…?”

               “Not important,” Stan said.  He shoved the dog at the teenager.  “Lute, take Joel back outside, will ya?”

               “Uh, sure,” the teenager, Lute, said.  “Come on, Joel.  Let’s get goin’.”  Lute opened the front door and whistled.  Joel made a mad dash for the door, and Lute followed the dog outside.  Stan crossed his arms, glaring at his twin.

               “What the hell are ya doin’ here?” he growled.

               “I- I was invited,” Ford stammered, still on the ground.  Stan frowned.

               “By who?”

               “Me,” Fiddleford said.  He helped Ford up.  “He’s my roommate.”  Stan looked at Fiddleford.        

              “Really.”

               “Yes.”

               “Stan, what are you doing here?” Ford asked.

               “I’m the McGucket farmhand.”  

               “Oh.”  Ford could see how working for the McGuckets must have changed his twin.  Stan seemed more muscular, well-fed, and had a slight southern twang.  He had also finally started wearing his glasses.  Ford suddenly remembered something Fiddleford had mentioned earlier. “Wait, Stan, are you a father?” Stan blinked, taken aback.

               “Wha- how do you-”

               “Fiddleford said that their farmhand has a daughter.”

              “Well-” Stan started hesitantly. He stopped, looking at something behind Ford.  Ford turned. Another of Fiddleford’s siblings, this time one of his sisters, was standing nearby holding an infant, a wary look in her eyes.

               “She was fussin’ a bit,” Fiddleford’s sister said.  She walked past Ford and deposited the baby in Stan’s arms.  “I think she wants her dad.”  

               “Thanks, Angie.”

               “Mm-hmm.”  Angie looked over at Ford.  “What’s goin’ on?”

               “Nothin’,” Stan muttered.  “Go check on Lute, would ya?”  Angie put her hands on her hips.

               “Don’t lie to me.  Clearly, somethin’s goin’ on.  Who’s this stranger?”

              “We’ll explain later,” Fiddleford said, taking his sister by the shoulders and guiding her outside. “Let’s give ‘em some space.”  After the door had closed, Ford spoke.

               “I’m an uncle?”

               “…Yeah.  You are,” Stan said.  His demeanor had softened once he was holding his daughter.  

               “Who’s the-”

               “Carla.  But she didn’t stick around.”

               “Oh,” Ford said softly.

               “Uh, do- do ya wanna hold her?” Stan asked.

               “I thought you were angry at me.”

               “I am.  But I ain’t gonna fight with ya when Molly’s in the room, and I like showin’ her off. So?”

               “Yes, I’ll hold her.”  Stan gently set Molly in Ford’s arms.  Ford stared down at his niece, who promptly grabbed one of his fingers and began to gum at it eagerly, her eyes flitting around the room.  He couldn’t help but be slightly in awe at her blatant curiosity. “This is your daughter?”

               “Yeah.  I think she’s pretty great,” Stan said.  He smiled proudly.  “She’s gonna be the best kid ever.  I can tell already.”

               “She’s a polydactyl,” Ford said softly.  

               “Yup.  I guess it runs in the family or somethin’.”

anonymous asked:

Um, actually Prince is worried how Anxiety will react to him after the whole *waves hands* incident. So we were going to deliver it and try to convince Anxiety to eat. We could probably use the help though. Anxiety hasn't eaten in 3-4 days-EC

*grabs a dust pan and starts to clean the glass* I can’t tell him to talk if he’s not ready… Yes it will help heeps, but people recover differently… But I seriously doubt They can avoid each other forever…. I hope they talk soon… And if not each other, then if they choose, my door is open. Maybe once anx talks he will get his appetite back?

The Doctor waved a hand dismissively at the young man. ‘Oh, this child here doesn’t believe in fairy stories.’

‘What?’ Steven was incredulous. ‘You never dreamed of being Sleeping Beauty, Vicks? Or Cinderella, carried off by a handsome prince?’

Vicki shrieked as he picked her up and swung her around the console room. 

‘Put me down, Steven! You’re not a prince!’ 

He grinned at her. ‘But you do agree I’m handsome then?’

‘I didn’t say that!’ She yelled again as he tossed her in the air and caught her. ‘Alright, alright! You’re handsome! Now put me down.’

Short Trip and Side Steps- Planet of the Bunnoids.

    a castle stormed is a much more easy feat without the king and queen to protect it. despite his disappointment in a lack of kingly and queenly confrontation, he found the few thousand guards surrounding the castle pitiful. as soon as he broke through the forcefield, safety was no more. those who recognized him pleaded for reconsideration, reminding him of distant memories about a genteel caretaker and a little girl.

    except those memories became haunting lullabies that kept him awake at night, and no one would be able to say otherwise for if they were to look upon his face they would see his tired eyes to prove the TORMENT. so he plows through the opposition with one effortless wave of a hand containing the other half of the wand’s crystal. five seconds, and the line of soldiers are out cold. he wouldn’t shed any blood at least, not here, not yet at least. so he simply put every living being that stepped in front of him to sleep. after all, they would need the rest should another war begin anew.

    the servants who were intelligent enough in their right to fear scattered at his approach towards the castle door, otherwise they would have to face the wrath of his magic as he raises his hand and blows the bottom half of the large double doors into smithereens. the wand’s magic coursed through in his veins, tingly at times, burning more so at every spell casted. but as someone who had been through enough and had become desensitized to pain in his mind he is the perfect candidate to wield such power the way he does. and when he broke free from the wretched avarius child’s body and regained his own, well, he began phase two.

    so he wore his battle armour; suit and tie and travelled to MEWNI to storm its castle. taking in his surroundings, the castle was still the same as he had left it what felt like eons ago. he remembered the diamond carved chandelier, the velvet carpet, and the intricate double stairs that met and curved at the middle.

    he remembered where star’s room was but as he approached the steps he stopped —- thinking. no, she wouldn’t be in her room. she would be in his chambers by now after all the commotion. the septarian turned towards a general direction and headed to the library where he too, demolished the doors down with one swift stroke of an emerald illuminated scythe.

    ❛ hello, star. ❜ letting the summoned scythe disintegrate from his claws he steps forward with a smile that remained soft, but held a sinister undertone to it. she knows what he wants, so he wastes no time asking for it. ❛ my finger, if you would be so kind.

❛ ♠ @butterflyiiisms`

essayofthoughts replied to your post “Meta”

*waves hand* hi, I’m a fan of the Maximoffs. From what I can tell a lot of people blame Stark for shit because they can’t see these layers and complexities - much like the Maximoffs themselves they hold a narrower view of the world. The difference is, the Maximoff’s narrow view was because of trauma and by the end of AOU they’re at least able to work with him even if they don’t like him. tumblr’s view is because of a lack of critical thinking.


First of all Hi @essayofthoughts (I must admit that I also like the maximoffs, but I can’t agree with the bad writing in MCU) I agree that the Maximoff’s viewpoint, while incredibly extreme, and irrational, is understandable to a degree. They weren’t thinking rationally, and they built their whole lives around this revenge plot from a very young age. I think when you code something like that into your life, it’s very hard to question it’s validity.

Killing Tony became their purpose in life, and that is incredibly dangerous, but it’s understandable to a degree. Not at all defensible, but I can understand why they thought the way they thought. I don’t actually have a problem with them thinking that way.

What I struggle with in both MCU and fandom is that people act as if that thought process was rational, and acceptable. Steve’s comment about letting a german scientist experiment on you for example, while their motives are understandable, and they could have had an awesome redemption arc, they weren’t really given one. Instead everyone else chose to excuse their actions. That’s my problem.

I also really dislike how MCU refers to Wanda as a kid, as if she’s too young to make her own choices. The invalidation of her opinions and actions is awful, and I hate it so much. This ‘you can’t blame her she’s just a kid’ idea is harmful to her as a character, she can’t grow if she’s never held responsible for her actions.

TL;DR Wanda Maximoff deserves better writing than MCU gave her.  

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.