nct 127 as things my dad has said
  • Taeyong: I told you to clean your room- Well you don't need to go now! It's too late, I already did it! And I used febreeze.
  • Taeil: I bet I can hit that high note- *doesn't hit the high note* You were looking at me and I got nervous.
  • Johnny: I am always professionally dressed at work. *is wearing socks with rabbits in hats on them* What about that isn't professional?
  • Yuta: *in response to me trying to hug him* No thank you. The only person who can hug me, is me.
  • Doyoung: I can't believe you just called me cute. Have you seen me? Do you know any other men who would look this good, at MY age?!
  • WinWin: Everyone called me a cute kid- little did they know that I would eventually take over the world.
  • Jaehyun: Sometimes you have to look a little less gorgeous than usual; people can't always be blinded by my beauty! Also, it makes them feel better about themselves.
  • Mark: I can't believe I haven't helped at least one person today? What is my life coming to?!
  • Haechan: *in response to me asking for him to help with something* Imagine if I wasn't the most kind and generous human alive.
The Perfect Two

Originally posted by gublerpattinsonworld

Spencer Reid x Reader

For anon who requested - “Can I request one where the reader works with the team and Spencer falls for her but doesn’t know how to work up the courage to do something about it?” I changed it a bit because I was kind of stumped! If it’s not what you want just let me know so I can write another one for ya!

Y/N’s Outfit

It was the evening of the Annual FBI Gala. It was a night where the Bureau members got together to let loose. They bid on baskets that each Unit had made and they willingly utilized the open bar. Spencer had been both looking forward yet anxious for this night. It was going to be when he introduced his girlfriend Y/N to the Behavioral Analysis Unit.

Spencer and Y/N had been seeing each other for the past couple months. He ran into her at the Smithsonian, where she had been with her third-graders. He had been reminiscing about Gideon, seeing that the weekend before was when he left his note for Spencer. He had gone to the museum as it was the one thing Spencer could remember his old mentor by, other than chess of course. He walked into the Hall of Human Origin where he saw her for the first time. She was beautiful. She looked exhausted yet as if she was still having the time of her life. He noticed her reprimand a student named Jimmy when he heard a child’s voice say, “UNCLE SPENCE”. He looked to the rest of the kids to see his godson Henry running towards him. He crouched down so that Henry could easily jump into his arms. Spencer set down Henry to see his teacher come up to him. She scolded Henry for running away from the group before introducing herself to Spencer. And that was the moment he met the girl of his dreams.

He had just knocked on Y/N’s door when she opened it. She was wearing an elegant black dress with silver accents and a high neckline. She took a step forward, revealing a tantalizing slit that showed off her toned legs. He could smell her perfume; a blend of roses, musk with subtle hints of magnolia. Looking at her he felt so out of his league. He couldn’t fathom why this gorgeous woman, this selfless and loving woman, would ever want to be with him. He was unsure as to why this intelligent and emotionally charged woman could be with an obnoxiously smart man with the emotional range of a teaspoon. Pushing the negative thoughts out of his mind, Spencer escorted her to the Gala where he was sure that his date would capture the eyes of men much more worthy of her than he could ever be.

The Gala had yet to start when Spencer and Y/N made their entrance. The valet took Spencer’s car to the parking area and a man guided them to their seats where the rest of the BAU was already seated. Spencer introduced Y/N to the people he could easily call his family.

“Oh my gosh. You are so beautiful. We have to get to know the girl that captured our genius’ heart!” exclaimed Penelope, who was wearing a gorgeous sapphire blue dress, before hugging Y/N.

“Look at you pretty boy, how on earth did you score her?” asked Derek, who looked dapper in a black suit with a tie that matched Penelope’s dress.

“It’s nice to meet you Penelope and Derek, but to tell you the truth I scored big time with Spencer here. He is everything I could have ever wished for” voiced Y/N before taking Spencer’s hand and squeezing it.

“It’s lovely to see you again Y/N” said Jennifer before shaking Y/N’s available hand.

“It’s great seeing you as well Ms. Jareau” responded Y/N, wanting to be polite to the mother of one of her favorite students.

“Call me JJ outside of the classroom” replied JJ before the others went on to introduce themselves.

Throughout the dinner Spencer’s insecurities shone bright. When the waiters came by with the drinks, Spencer couldn’t help but notice that the men, and some women, gawking at the cutout revealing ample cleavage on Y/N’s dress. As Y/N walked to the restroom with her newly made friends, JJ and Penelope, he noticed eyes ogling at her well defined legs that peered through the tempting slit of her gown.

Spencer let out a sigh before taking a sip of his drink.

“What’s wrong my man?” asked Derek.

“Nothing, you wouldn’t understand” said a perturbed Spencer.

“Try me” replied Derek before taking a swill of his Old Fashioned.

“You’ve never been the unattractive one in a relationship. I mean look at her. She’s gorgeous and I don’t deserve her” mumbled Spencer, embarrassed that he had revealed one of his deepest insecurities.

“Pretty Ricky, what have I told you? Your face is your best asset and some chicks dig the lanky teacher look! All joking aside, Spencer, that girl loves you. You could weigh 375 pounds and wear a trash bag and she would still love you. I can’t ever see her leaving you and you are everything to her. Y/N is probably just as insecure. She’s dating a genius who catches the eyes of all the single female agents and interns” declared Derek before slapping Spencer on his back.

The women were on their way back and Y/N couldn’t help but gaze at Spencer from afar. He was extremely handsome. When Spencer told her about what his teammates called the “Reid Effect” she couldn’t believe it. He loved his godson and couldn’t wait to have children of his own. He was so loving and considerate. He constantly reminded her to love herself which everyone, especially Y/N, struggled with. And the sex was mind blowing, pun intended.

As the night went on Y/N got to know Spencer’s family better and they all made plans to meet up for dinner at Rossi’s once the caseload was lighter. The Gala turned out to be better than either Spencer or Y/N could have imagined. The BAU ended up loving Y/N and thought she was the best match for Spencer. She even knew how to play chess. They were the perfect match.

Y/N dragged Spencer to the dance floor when one of her all time favorite songs, “Can’t Help Falling in Love with You” started playing.

“So aren’t you glad you came?” asked Spencer, placing one hand on her lower back, her hand touched his shoulder, as their free hands met.

“I really am. Tonight was wonderful” said Y/N smiling up at the man of her dreams.

The pair danced the rest of the night away. Never breaking the gaze they held. Their heartbeats in sync with the music. The rest of the team looked on in awe of the flawless couple. They saw how much Y/N had changed Spencer for the better, without realizing that he did the same to her. They complemented each other in the best way possible. They truly were the perfect two.


A/N I hope ya’ll like this piece, I was stumped and kind of went with it! My requests are still opened so help me procrastinate! Also did anyone notice my Harry Potter reference?

I’m so mad right now.

Are people actually using the Scot’s and Celt’s and Vikings as EXCUSES to say to POC that white people wore dreads?


I’m Scottish and have never once been told about dreadlock care, or how meaningful it is to wear as a people. What I have been told about is tartan and kilts and braids. Tattoo’s don’t hold as much meaning to us anymore though, but they did before.

Yet no mention of dreadlocks. (and if you use any roman accounts as evidence I swear to fucking god I’m going to punch you in the neck)

For one we didn’t even fucking wear dreads. It was all about braids. And another thing, even if by chance we did (which we didn’t) that wouldn’t give you the right to fucking wear them. If it was cultural, then it would be of value and meaning to us and solely us as a culture, like how we have Ceilidhs and how we throw the Highland games. Just like it is with POC and their dreads. It’s something that they have done and always will do. Now the reason why us Scot’s DON’T dread our hair is very simple. Our natural hair isn’t meant to do that. Braiding and curling and beads and feathers, yes. Dreads, no. Not even slightly.

SO DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE SAY THAT US AND THE PICTS AND THE VIKINGS DID IT.. No. No we fucking didn’t. I can’t believe you’re even using that as an excuse. Fuck off with your bullshit and stop appropriating other goddamn cultures for fashion. It isn’t edgy, it isn’t cool. You’re just a goddamn asshole.

Dreads are beautiful on black women and men. They know how to care for them properly and I think they’re the most gorgeous wearing them, when I see someone POC wearing dreadlocks, they always look so stunning. Us whitey’s look fucking stupid with them because guess what! GASP! It’s not our thing. It will never be our thing. Stop trying to convince people otherwise because I can point you to about 6 Scottish folk who will kick your fucking ass for trying to use us as bargaining chip because you’re so desperate to set yourself apart from the crowd.

While we’re at it, you just stink. Like seriously stink. You have no knowledge on how to care for your dreads. You have no idea. Neither do I since IT’S NEVER BEEN MENTIONED EVER AS A CULTURAL THING. Funny though how every POC with dreads smells lovely. I’m guessing, and I say this with all the shade at the idiots who think they can get away with it, I’m guessing it’s because they have accounts and accounts of evidence as to how to properly maintain the locks.

So just fucking stop. Stop stealing from other cultures. You’ve taken enough from them. Stop it.

After the episode I still have so many questions about Victor Zsasz´s new waistcoat.
* What is that fabric / material? Black snake or crocodile leather?
* Does it repel liquids? Was Zsasz just tired of having (hard to spot on the black but sill very much there) blood splatter on his clothing. Can he just wipe the blood drops off this new garment? 
* I´m so blessed that they added a scene where Victor actually sits on the couches of the lounge in the episode. Soooo why does it fit so well to the interior of the Iceberg Lounge? The shiny surface is so similar to the couches yet the pattern is different enough that it doesn´t look like he is wearing the couches. 
* Has Oswald Cobblepot bought him the waistcoat? Did they have a little shopping spree just to have some relief from the monotony of all the killing sprees? 
* (And, if this is actually a thing, could Oswald be so kind as to dress someone in something reminiscing the fabric of those gorgeous curtains, please ..) 

On a side note: “My men stopped them” .. what´s up with the Zsaszettes?! 

samfishers  asked:

Character you'd rather date: I'm gonna be unfair. Vega or Reyes? >:D

Nooooooo!  Damn you! I’m going to tag @kestrelsansjesses​ in here too since she was ALSO evil and asked the same question. I swear - you guys are devils in disguise! And this is so evil! Like … even more evil then the last question.

I think I like Vega and Reyes for some of the same reasons - they’re both outwardly flirty, but have these incredible hidden layers to them, and their characters are much deeper than people give them credit for. They both seem very strong and seem in control, but you get the sense that they’re both carrying some pretty intense emotional wounds inside of them. I also think they’re both massive geeks. 

In Vega’s case, we know he is carrying some big scars - we know he saw some heavy shit on Fehl Prime and is wounded deeply. In some ways, he’s dealing with a lot of the same things as a young Shepard. In Reyes’ case, we can only guess that he probably flew shuttles through the scourge looking for planets, food, and water, and probably thought that the whole damned mission was doomed and that he would die. Either way - both men are incredibly resilient. They hide behind flirting and smiles: they aren’t shallow, but they do wear masks.

But, I also like them for different reasons! And here in lies the challenge of choosing one over the other - which I’m struggling with!

Vega is very open with Shepard. It takes some time, but he never hides who he is or what he wants from them. He openly admires them - he’s a fanboy, but he isn’t afraid to question them if he thinks you’ve made the wrong move. He’s funny, sweet, flirty, loyal, brave, and is absoloutely gorgeous. I mean - I like tall, muscled guys with tattoos - so Vega hits all my physical marks hands down. He even has lovely brown eyes, and I’m a sucker for brown eyes. I also love that Vega isn’t afraid to be vulnerable with Shepard - when he wants help he lays it on the line and asks them.

Reyes … oh boy. He wears masks. I think maybe his masks even wear masks. There is no doubt in my mind that he truly cares for Ryder, but he also wants so badly for Kadara to be better off, and that is his priority. He wants to be somebody, yes, and he is willing to make the hard choices for that to happen. He isn’t a cruel man. He isn’t a bad guy. He isn’t blood thirsty or nasty, or a brutal person - but he’s determined. He’s single minded. He’s caught in a bad situation where his heart wants two things and he desperately wants to try and hang onto them both. He’s in a man who is used to flirting and making other people fall for him … and suddenly he finds himself falling for the other person, and it’s at the most inopportune time in his life.

I could write paragraphs about Reyes and why I adore his character. He’s also funny, sweet, and charming. He is self-interested, but not to the exclusion of others - he definitely wants to make sure that Ryder is safe. He cares for them. He’s vulnerable in a way that makes my heart ache. He makes me sad because he wants to badly to be the person Ryder thinks they are … he wants to be with them. You can see it in his eyes when he looks at Ryder, in the way he touches their face, in the way he holds them and kisses them. He desperately wants to be with them - he wants to be someone in their eyes as well as the eyes of Kadara. He’s handsome, he’s exciting, he’s sweet, … and he has the same colour eyes as me, lol. But he’s also vulnerable - maybe even more so than James. I also think Reyes is very alone - I get the feeling that he is surrounded by people who he needs, rather than by his friends.

I … actually don’t know who I would pick. I think James would be the better boyfriend one minute, and then I think about Reyes and my heart aches.

Oh gosh … I think. I think I’m going to choose Reyes. But know that the guys are equal in my heart and I’m making this choice under duress. 

Originally posted by anyyon

Viktuuri on Holiday

This is for @discord-ant​, who requested a POV outsider Viktuuri on holiday, ignoring the landmarks and taking photos of random things instead. Hope you’ll like it!

…eighteen, nineteen, (whoa, what a handsome guy!) twenty, (aww, the Asian one is cute too!) twenty one.

She checked her papers. Yep, twenty one. Good.

“May I have your attention please?” she spoke up and waited until all heads turned to her. “Hello everyone, welcome to Bratislava! My name is Monika and I will be your tour guide. Before we start, let me just go through a quick set of rules. When we arrive at a landmark, I would like you to first pay attention to me as I explain the story behind the landmark and answer your questions. You will have enough time to take photos afterwards. It’s a beautiful sunny day, so there might be crowds…” She felt like a parrot, repeating the same thing for the millionth time. Or a broken record. Stay with the group. Don’t get lost. Follow the red umbrella. There will be enough time for souvenir shopping. The meeting point is in front of Michael’s Gate, any local will point you in the right direction. “Any questions?” As expected, there were none. “Good, now please follow me.”

She led the group to the first attraction of the day – Watcher. There was a group of tourists taking selfies with the statue. She spotted Anna and nodded at her fellow tour guide.

“Okay, while we wait for this group to take their photos, let me tell you something about our most photographed statue. Čumil or ‘Watcher’ was originally installed as a joke in 1997…” Monika allowed herself to space out as she retold the story she could recite from her sleep and answered the same questions she had answered million times before. Sometimes her job could be quite taxing. She gave them a generous fifteen minute break to take photos.

There were three men who absolutely stood out in this group, and not only because of their good looks. A cheerful Thai (at least Monika thought he was Thai. He certainly looked the part and he was wearing a jacket with Thailand’s flag) who was taking twenty selfies per minute, and an interesting pair that always stayed close to each other. One of them was a handsome silver haired man with the bluest eyes Monika had ever seen and the other was a gorgeous Asian. In sharp contrast to the Selfie Guy, the two did not even take out their phones. They were the only ones who hadn’t taken a picture with Watcher.

“Does everybody have a picture?” she asked to be certain.

The Gorgeous Asian’s eyes widened and he whipped out his phone quickly. Now that was the expected reaction.

Only he didn’t point it at Watcher.

“Витя, смотри!” he said to his friend, pointing at a puppy. (The last thing Monika had expected was for an Asian guy to speak fluent Russian.) You could practically see the Handsome Russian (it seemed reasonable to assume he was Russian) melt at the sight. They… They took photos with the dog, completely ignoring the statue, and did not even protest when it was time to move on.

Same thing happened with other attractions. The statue of Napoleon’s soldier? Selfie Guy: approximately 38 photos. Gorgeous Asian & Handsome Russian: nothing.

The statue of Schöne Náci? Selfie Guy: at least 25 photos. Gorgeous Asian & Handsome Russian: took a photo of a balloon seller.

Old Town Hall? Selfie Guy: more than 22 photos. Gorgeous Asian & Handsome Russian: took a photo of a butterfly.

Saint Martin’s Cathedral? Selfie Guy: no less than 40 photos. Gorgeous Asian & Handsome Russian: took a photo of newlyweds exiting the church.

Bratislava Castle? UFO Restaurant? It was a miracle Selfie Guy had any free space left on his phone! Gorgeous Asian & Handsome Russian? Took photos of their ice cream. Ice cream. There was a giant flying saucer over the bridge held up mostly by suspension cables with no pylons supporting it from beneath and they took a photo of an ice cream! No, really, what was wrong with these two? They didn’t look bored. They listened to stories behind the monuments intently and occasionally even asked a question, proving that they were listening. It’s just that more people surreptitiously took photos of them than they did of anything. Unlike Selfie Guy, who was having a crisis over his dying phone battery (yeah, no surprise there). Handsome Russian calmly took out a power bank from Gorgeous Asian’s backpack and handed it to the excited Thai.

Well. Okay, then. Maybe they hired Selfie Guy as their photographer? That would explain things…

“Alright, everyone, attention please! It’s now 13:08. You have until 14:00 to go shopping for gifts and souvenirs. We will meet at 14:00 right here at this fountain. Please try to be punctual!” Not that she expected them to be, she’d been doing this for way too long and she knew better. She waved at the group, indicating they were free to go.

Gorgeous Asian & Handsome Russian were the first to arrive, carrying bags with logos of the usual souvenir shops. They were soon joined by the Selfie Guy, who had more bags than the two of them combined.

“Hey, guys, look what I’ve found!” Carefully setting the bags on the ground he opened one and took out a t-shirt. Monika giggled quietly. It was a gag gift t-shirt “Slovak for beginners” with deliberately difficult archaic and dialectal words which were practically impossible to pronounce for non-native speakers.

“I don’t think human vocal cords are meant to produce such combinations of consonants,” Gorgeous Asian said doubtfully.

Selfie Guy nodded. “Yeah, I thought so too, so I asked the shop assistant to read it to me. He did. Then again,” the Thai tapped his lip thoughtfully, “maybe he wasn’t human! I mean, they do have a flying saucer disguised as a restaurant! Maybe they’re all aliens!” He whipped out his phone to take a selfie with the shirt and no doubt inform the internet about his newest finding.

Monika slapped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from bursting into laughter. Eavesdropping was rude. Even if it was the craziest theory she’d ever heard in her career.

“Oh, and you’ll love this one!” he triumphantly pulled out a navy t-shirt which said

(alternate spelling of victory)

“I need one!” Handsome Russian’s face brightened up, even as Gorgeous Asian groaned.

“Vitya, no.”

“Vitya, yes.” Handsome Russian pressed a quick kiss on Gorgeous Asian’s cheek and turned to Selfie Guy. “Where did you get it?”

The Thai pointed at a shop. Handsome Russian practically ran there.

“I hate you,” Gorgeous Asian informed Selfie Guy.

“Nah. You love me!”

The tourists, tired from the long walking tour, were sitting quietly in their seats, only few of them still having the energy to talk. The bus stopped at the red light.

“On the left you can see the Ondrej Nepela Arena.” The last thing Monika had expected was for Gorgeous Asian & Handsome Russian to pull out their phones and finally take a photo of a building. (Selfie Guy didn’t surprise her at all). Really? In front of the beautiful Neo-Renaissance style building of the Slovak National Theatre they had taken a picture of a flower and now, seeing this ugly modern building, now they decided they needed a photo? “For those of you who don’t know, Nepela was a famous Slovak figure skater, 1972 Olympic champion, a three-time World champion, and a five-time European champion…”

Monika slumped down onto her bed gratefully. It’d been a long day. Taking out her phone she checked her mails and skimmed through her social media sites. She got bored with it pretty quickly. Deciding to catch up with the latest pop-culture, Monika googled this viktuuri/victory meme.

Her scream woke up the neighbour’s dog.


Disclaimer: I’m totally entitled to make fun of my language, city where I work, its landmarks, and possible extraterrestial status of myself and my countrymen :)

I finally watched Wonder Woman and it was amazing on all accounts and it made me want to draw my lovely buff ladies that would have been completely at home on Themiscyra. I didn’t get to all of them, but here is the lovely Saethil rocking an Amazonian look and doing it well. 

Also Hippolyta’s outfit is totally what Fen’Sulahn wears to battle. You cannot convince me otherwise. 

Royal trouble - (Thranduil x reader)

Chapter 12

“I trust that the King is treating you well?”

Hmm…I wonder how Thranduil would cope if rumours were to circulate that he was treating his guest badly? Time for some revenge.

“Actually, well…I didn’t want to cause a fuss…but- ah it’s nothing really…”

Haldir steps closer to you, his expression growing concerned.

“My Lady, if you are at all unhappy I-”

“It’s just that, I wouldn’t want the King to get in trouble…”

“Ariella, I can assure you, that whatever you divulge to me, I will not betray your trust.”

Well, only if you insist – if he’s anything like the other elves, his loyalty to the King will have him spreading the gossip like fire, outraged at the almighty Thranduil’s actions. 

“To be completely honest with you,”

You lower your head, leaning slightly into him.

“..I haven’t been fed for days and this is the first time I’ve ever been allowed out of the dungeons.”

“What!? This is truly unacceptable, Ariella. The dungeons! On what premise where you put there?”

“Thranduil never gave me any reason.”

You do your best pout and begin to sniff to make it all the more convincing.

“And you have told no-one else of this…neglect?!”

“No, I guess I didn’t want to alarm anyone.”

Haldir takes your hand in his and strokes it soothingly.

“You must understand that I cannot allow this disregard for your health to be continued. Do not fear, leave it to me and I shall resolve this matter.”

“Thank you Haldir, I’m so grateful for your help.”

“You need not thank me Ariella, Thranduil should address this immediately. Do not worry, I shan’t tell him, but if I were to have you in my hospitality, I would not be so careless with,”

His round eyes lock with yours as he begins to lose his words.

“..such a stunning… delicate-“

“Um yes, well thank you, but I must find my friend…he said he was going to try and smuggle in something for me to eat. Goodbye…”

You quickly turn away, leaving Haldir to watch you delve back into the colourful sea of elves to find exactly whereabouts Legolas had got to. As much as he was good-looking, you didn’t exactly need another complicated romantic entanglement. Also, it wasn’t as if your entire existence was to be tied to a man. Thus, unable to locate Legolas after trying for far too long, you wander off to find Nym in order to have some fun of your own.

Although the majority of the hall was full with gorgeous noble lady elves, who were wearing the prettiest dresses made from silk and lace, there were a few men who had accompanied them on their journey or were relatives and due to this, it was easy to spot him; even more so from the loudness of his voice and the space between him and the lady elves.

“Ayy, Ariella!”

As you approach him he sways from side to side, almost falling over his own feet.

“Are you sure you should be having this much wine?”

“It’s the t-troll, she’s here! Look, look!”


Nym laughs and points, rather too obviously for your liking, over to a lady you have never seen before. Legolas is stood beside her, frowning and red in the face. To say he looks angry is an understatement. But she on the other hand, looks calm, smirking and batting her eyelashes at him.

Talia. This must have been who he saw earlier.

You stay with Nym to keep him occupied to stop him from downing any more of the wine and as the hours go by, it becomes increasingly clear that your plan has worked. Many of the male elves begin to throw you pitying looks, whilst the women gasp and stare, whispering to each other. Although the King appears to have been telling the truth about revealing all to Legolas, he still threw out your best friend. And for this, he needed payback. You knew how much Thranduil liked to be the centre of attention and this would give him exactly what he wanted - more or less.

As Nym introduces you to some of the random women that also appear to find his drunkenness amusing, you begin to see a pattern. Most of them are your age with long blond hair and slim figures; whilst you were more the curvy type with darker hair. Whilst talking with the less arrogant ones, they offer you sympathy after hearing how Thranduil treats you. One woman in particular approaches you. She is tall (as usual) and older than most of the others, her dark blue eyes appear to be riddled with worry.

“Are you Ariella?”

“Ah, yes.”

“Well, I just wish to say that I am utterly appalled to here of the King’s behaviour towards you. I know that you are a human – but that is no excuse. I thought that out of all the people who would have kept you well-looked after, it would be Thranduil; especially after what his own kin have been through.”

“Thank you, but I really don’t want to cause any hassle.”

Oh no, that would be terrible…

“Nonsense. It shall be rectified soon enough, my child. The council will see to that.”

Council? Oh dear…he will be mad. What a shame.

As she floats back over to a crowd of anxious looking women, you can’t help but admire your own scheming. Everything is going to plan. Suddenly, you feel yourself being pulled by the arm backward and look behind you to see Nym who appears out of nowhere. Taking you with him, he stalks over towards Talia, who is now without Legolas.

“No, Nym. We ca-”

“Sssshh!! We must creep up secretly behind her and listen in…she may be conspiring against us!”

“I don’t think she is. Surely she wouldn’t do that here?”

“You are wrong, so, so wrong, very ver-“

“Nym? Are you- sweet Christ.”

Collapsed on the floor, Nym attracts all the attention as heads turn to mock him. One elf comes over to you after watching your attempts to help him up, but his height makes this task rather tricky.

“Just leave him, he’ll be alright. He should be used to this by now.”

He chuckles and walks off. As you stand there, unsure if you should leave him or not, you notice that over to the far right of the hall there begins to form a small circle of what looks like superior elves; possibly Lords or other royalty. Straining your neck up to see over the heads of elves, you make out Thranduil, who is stood in the centre of them.

The council.

Upon seeing you, he notices that you’re watching and catches your eye with a fierce glare. You guess he must have found out and as the group dissipates, he is left standing there, simmering, brooding, glaring at you.

You have to admit that he looks even more glorious when he’s angry – intimidating, but by god, glorious. To annoy Thranduil even more, you smirk at him then turn your back weaving off through the crowd, until he calls out your name.

“Ariella. Come here, now.”

You smile at hearing the irritation in his voice.  Turning back round, you walk slowly over to where he is standing, legs wide apart, his arms folded and his head raised high. He looked less than pleased; much less.

“Is there something wrong, my King?”

You try to contain your amusement.

“Oh I think you know exactly what is wrong, my darling.”

“I’m afraid you will have to elaborate…”

“I intend to do more than elaborate, Ariella. If it’s a scene you want, then that is what you shall get.”

He grabs you roughly and turns you so that both of you are facing everyone in the hall.  

“HOW DARE YOU RAISE YOUR HAND TO ROYALTY! This is what I get for allowing you out of the dungeons? After I gave you a chance not to return to your violent ways? And you wonder why I keep you locked up!”

Heat rushing to your cheeks, you feel completely embarrassed. Out of all the things he could have done, this was the last thing you expected. Everyone is now staring at the two of you; what could you say back?

Leaning down to you, he snarls into your ear.

“What did you expect when you play games with a King?”

“What did you expect me to do when you threw out my best friend?” you say through gritted teeth.

His hold on your arms is tight, as if to restrain you. He whispers back, smirking.

“You cannot fool me, darling. I know you are enjoying this.”

“I most definitely am not.”

I totally am.

“You’ve made your point, now let me go.”

You wriggle, trying to move his arms away from you.

“Oh I don’t think so, my little flower. I’m not quite done with you yet…”

He releases his hold on your arms and instead takes your hand lightly, drawing you closer to him.

“I meant what I said to you Ariella. I intend to prove it, regardless of what you do.”

“What makes you think I want you to prove it? How do you expect me to love someone who does not care about my feelings? You made it clear by banis-”


“Yes, my King?”

Your words are still tinted with playful sarcasm, knowing full well he loves it just as much as you do.

“Kiss me.”


“You heard what I said. Do not play coy with me woman, you have tested me for long enough.”

Obeying his command, you reach up on your tip-toes and kiss him softly on his smooth lips, making the entire room hush. The whispers and chattering that had risen from Thranduil shouting at you seemed far more pleasant than the now apparent silence that had broken across the room.

“That’s not what I mean. Do it properly, Ariella. Or would you rather I make another scene?”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing already?”

“Very well, I’ll do it myself.”

Taking you by the waist, Thranduil curls his strong arms around you and pulls you flat against him. He instantly devours your mouth and you feel his tongue take dominance over yours. As he continues to deepen the kiss without letting you breathe, you release a quiet moan into his mouth as a wave of desire washes over you and your whole body tingles wanting more.

When he eventually breaks the kiss, you feel slightly faint but his arms keep you tight against him. Looking up into his eyes, they are dark and full of lust. He begins to smirk as he notices your expression change when you suddenly remember that you are in front of hundreds of elves, now looking at you with astonished faces, mouths hanging wide open.


Thranduil, still keeping you close to him, turns to address the stunned crowd.

“Ariella is mine. Anyone who harms her shall answer to their King.”

Saviors Thoughts
  • Toasty pointed out If quadrants are in-built like I’ve insinuated they are, then the kids must have had weird, inexplicable crushes on other normal kids, in quadrants other than red!  
  • seriously though imagine being in school with people and having a pale crush or an ashen crush or god forbid a pitch crush on someone. 8T  

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I can’t help thinking of this song every time I see tessmunster defending her new-found, but hard-fought fame. What’s so hard to understand about the fact that every time someone different breaks through to the mainstream it means more acceptance for all of us?

I remember a lot of my heavily tattooed friends grumbling about all the tattoo reality shows that were on for a while, but guess what – those shows made it so I can walk around my grandma’s retirement community without old people calling the cops on me; and made it so I can walk into job interviews at major corporations with the confidence that I have a fair shot at the job. People who look like me were on TV and, dumb as it is, that made the fact that I exist in this world OK with other people. 

Like it or not, fame helps our society to accept things that it was otherwise unable to accept. Listen, people flipped when Mary Typer Moore wore pants on The Dick Van Dyke Show. PANTS!!! It was unheard of for a woman on television to wear pants rather than a dress, but she did it, and after people freaked out a little, it became so normal that we laugh about it now. (Mind you, there are still many parts of the world where women are not free to dress as they choose - one could argue that the U.S. is still one of them. So maybe it’s not to quaint and funny after all.) 

And no, I do not mean that Tess’ fame will somehow encourage all women to be a size 22, don’t be ridiculous. According to WedMD, the average American woman wears a 12-14. Most runway models wear 0-4. So can we stop with the silly argument that one famous size 22 model will somehow spawn a nation of size 22 women? It’s the same panicked reaction I hear from people who believe in things like “the gay agenda” - the notion that somehow gay people wanted to be treated like, oh I don’t know, people will transform heterosexual children into little gays. There is no fat agenda. There are, however, beauty standards that society tries to hold all women (and men) to, and people like Tess are challenging them. And for that, I am grateful. 

Another thing I’ve seen Tess get shit for is being “conventionally beautiful” - as in, it is not good enough that she is a size 22 woman who just signed with a major modeling agency, because she has a gorgeous face and big boobs and she wears makeup and sexy clothes. I’m not sure how anyone can miss her many, many tattoos, her septum piercing, or her quirky personal style - but those things are real, and far from conventional. Yes, she has many assets that are considered conventionally beautiful - and she is using them to push for broader acceptance of unconventional beauty. 

Look at people like Chantelle Brown-Young (Winnie Harlow) and Viktoria Modesta - gorgeous, no doubt, but both challenging the notion of “perfect” beauty. You can shit on them for having beautiful faces and bodies or you can respect their struggle to accept the fact that they are beautiful despite society telling them that they would be beautiful if only… if only your skin was “normal,” if only you had both legs, if only you were a size 6 and not a size 22… if only you didn’t have all those tattoos… if only. 

I can’t make people see all the good Tess has done with #effyourbeautystandards or her fame in general. If I could, I would. But I can be extremely proud of her, and I can take her message and hold in in my heart, and try to see the beauty in myself and in other people and to not see those if onlys. I can do that, thanks to Tess. 

➸ hair stylist/make up artist and actor/model AU

Clint sighed, the brush twirling carelessly between his fingers. Most of the time he liked his job, he really did. Being the makeup artist on sets of actors and models, making them gorgeous enough to be worshiped, flirting casually with some of the biggest names in society, definitely had its perks.

Today, though… Today was the special kind of hell that made him question if the others had been a hallucination. He’d been hired out for a men’s fashion magazine shoot. Men were even more particular about their makeup, because unlike women who were going for a certain look or effect, men wanted all the benefits of makeup without actually looking like they were wearing any at all. Today there had been a steady stream of haughty men who had either not spoken a word to him, or done so only to tell him what a terrible job he was doing.

And the very last model he was supposed to work on before he could get paid, pack up, and go home, was late.

Of course.

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Maybe some single Harley women think that wearing full face helmet, leather clothing and leather gloves will make them look awful. But look at this Harley girl, she is wearing a full set of riding gear and she looks so gorgeous. So, Harley women should not resist putting those riding gear on them, which can protect them from falling and hurting. Maybe to single Harley men, they look more charming and attractive, making Harley men eager to date a Harley woman who know how to protect themselves.

an open letter to boys with long hair: pls mr. boy stop growing your hair although i am eager to uphold my indifferent demeanour towards those of you who are attractive and nice and smart and funny i must admit that the length of your hair is distracting to my sexual organs and you must cease this outrageous beautiful misconduct find some scissors and chop them locks off cause I can’t deal okay??? like if girls in middle school can’t wear skirts above the ankle because their male counterparts are distracted, i believe it is well within my rights to DEMAND that you dumb gorgeous long luscious haired men stop it just don’t get lost i hate you all