20=x

Doodle of the day — Neris makes use of her questions.

This comic’s joke is probably too late, but in light of the new DLC announcement, I wanted to make some kind of reaction, and distract myself from the other larger project. Stay mad, Neris, stay mad.

1 month celebration under the cut:

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all we do is drive
harry/louis, 46k. explicit.

It doesn’t make sense, the way Louis can have such an effect on him. From one look, or one stupid bet, Harry’s now street racing, apparently. He hates it. Doesn’t know how to control it, every time he sees Louis looking at him - it comes like an impulse. Without a second thought. No rhyme or real reason to it. He’s just Louis.

here on ao3.

anonymous asked:

do you think emily hates olicity?

Hi, troll! LOL I’ll just pretend you’re really concerned, because why not to make a post about the Co-Captain of the Olicity ship aka Emily Bett Rickards. An addition to the one with Stephen:

All her favourite scenes are the ones with Stephen since… forever:

“My favourite scene was when Felicity hands Oliver the book.”:

“When she’s in a blanket? Yeah. It was the sweetest moment.”:

“Sex scene? We had a really good time.”:

+ twitter, of course:

A Stucky British Pub AU where Bucky and the rest of the Howling Commandos are waiters at SHIELD, a british-styled pub owned by Peggy Carter and her wife Angie Martinelli. One day Steve hears about SHIELD from his friend Sam who works at the VA, who tells Steve about how a few of the people he’s helped works at SHIELD, since SHIELD is known for hiring veterans to their staff, and helps them to be able re-adjust back into civilian life. Intrigued, Steve goes to check it out one night, and is immediately swept off his feet by his attractive waiter, Bucky Barnes.

(I went to a british-styled pub last night and all I could think of was this AU okay. I just had to draw it!)

Imagine walking in on Dean getting off.

It was universally known that you didn’t exactly have the finest of timings. You were notorious for talking at inappropriate times and for walking in on conversations you weren’t supposed to bear witness to. These things occurred more often than you could count. By now, you had gotten used to it, shrugging off the awkwardness in the speed of light and adopting a nonchalant demeanor when those around you shook their heads at your shenanigans.

But today, today you were caught completely off guard. Sam had taken the day off to himself, deciding to spend it God knows where and you had decided to stay at the bunker to relax. Laidback time was quite rare being that everything seemed to be going berserk in the supernatural world nowadays. And the Winchesters and you were more than glad when today rolled around, there was absolutely no work to be done.

Meandering through the halls, you discovered that you had yet to look into a few rooms that were still locked and curiosity trumped laziness, your desire to take a nap overpowered. You were determined to see what was behind those doors, recalling that Dean was the one who kept all the keys in his drawer. For safekeeping, he had said.

You made your way to Dean’s room, completely disregarding the weird noises being emitted from behind the door. Your fingers wrapped around the doorknob and you pushed. Dean’s groans intermingled with the high-pitched, phony moans of the porn stars splayed out on his laptop’s screen. He was laying back, spread-eagle, on his bed. Void of any clothes, a thin layer of sweat caused Dean’s abs to stand out, the muscles in his arm pronounced as he worked his hand over his penis.

It took him a second or two to realize that he had company, his eyes snapping opened and pupils contracting in panic. You screamed, the note of your voice high enough to cause Dean to cringe and disregard his state, hands flying to cover his eats to try to protect them from you.

“Get out!” he screeched.

“Dean, for the love of—lock the goddamn door!” you spat back, slamming the door closed and groaning loudly all the way to the bathroom. Quite dramatically, you splashed water and soap on your face until you felt the slimy feeling ebb away, only to be replaced by awkwardness and dread at the thought of having to talk to Dean after this ordeal.

Quickly scurrying to your room, you breathed easier when you saw that he wasn’t in the hallways and locked the door behind you. For the rest of the day, you became determined to not lay eyes on him, avoiding to go to the kitchen when you heard him shuffling about.

But pretty soon, you had to face Dean, bear through the flush it brought to your cheeks whenever you thought of him and try not to stutter whenever you had to speak to him. Sam immediately noticed the tension in your shoulders and questioned you in regards to it, but upon receiving silence from you, he resorted to Dean.

“She walked in on me cleaning the rifle,” Dean said.

“Oh, okay,” Sam furrowed his brow.

“No, Sammy,” Dean shook his head and scoffed. “She walked in on me cleaning the rifle,” he made a jacking off motion with his hand.

“Oh, oh!” Sam exclaimed, pulling back to shoot Dean a disgusted look. “Well, that explains it. She’s so awkward about these things.”

“I have every intention of taking advantage of this,” Dean said as he took a big bite of his sandwich, smirking despite the food in his mouth.

“Oh, God,” Sam shook his head.


Should I continue?