Versace on the Floor

Anon Request: Hi, can I ask for a story where you’re jealous/insecure over Tom’s reaction to Zendaya in the “Versace on the floor” music vid?

Warnings: jealous reader, Tom kind of being a jerk at first, ends in fluff

Tags:  @bubblyanarocks3, @broken-pieces, @yessy2012, @panic-to-thepilots

(Y/N) lay beside her boyfriend, half asleep as she rolled over to face him. A slow, piano introduction lulled her away from the grips of sleep. Slowly, her eyes opened from her nap and she rested her head in the crook between her boyfriend’s chest and shoulder.

“What are you watching babe?” she asked while dropping her arm across his  chest.

“Music video,” he stated as he held it above their faces. Upon seeing who was being showcased in the video, she couldn’t help the pain rising into her chest. (Y/N) and Tom hadn’t been together very long–she had come into his life on accident and for some reason, he decided to keep her around. She knew there was nothing special about her and had always struggled with the attention Tom receives from his female friends and fans, but her biggest insecurity was Zendaya.

(Y/N) hated how jealous she had become of her. She knew Zendaya and Tom were just friends, but when the rumors surfaced of them having a secret relationship–despite knowing they were fake–she couldn’t help but get herself worked up. It made sense. Zendaya and Tom had a connection; they worked well together. On top of that, she was kind hearted, sweet, down to earth, and stunningly beautiful. In reality, (Y/N) knew that Tom deserved to be with someone like Zendaya rather than herself: an insecure nobody who could be as replaceable as a trash bag. 

Slowly, (Y/N)’s eyes gazed along the man beside her. His face was glued to his phone screen and slowly, whether it be because his arm grew tired or he forgot (Y/N) was there, lowered it closer to his line of sight.

“Are you humming the melody?” (Y/N) asked in a tone of aggravation she quickly tried to mask through a laugh.

“Maybe,” Tom said with a low smirk, “shut up!”

“Exactly how many times have you watched this video?” (Y/N) inquired as she tried to drape more of her body across his to direct his attention to her rather than the screen.

“Maybe three, why?” he laughed while still glancing up at the screen but stealing peeks at the girl curled against him.

“No reason,” she muttered as she threw her leg across his thighs and hurried her face into his chest, her ear pressed gently just above his heart. As she listened to the beating of Tom’s heart and the rather sexually charged song, her own heart turned to stone as her eyes peered at the video for a moment–catching a bit where Zendaya traces her body and bites her lip before stripping out of the dress. 

Upon watching this, (Y/N) couldn’t help but acknowledge the increased rhythm of Tom’s heartbeat and the subtle pulse between his legs against her own. For a moment she tried to ignore all that she felt and heard just then but she was unable to hide her pain. Quickly, she rolled in the opposite direction, peeled herself from Tom’s body, and stared at the ceiling for a moment before sitting up and dangling her feet from the bed.

“Where are you going?” Tom asked as he glanced toward the girl who had just pushed herself from the edge of the bed and pulled a flannel over her bare arms and tank-top clad body.

“Hungry,” she lied as she paced through Tom’s room and toward the door.

“Can you make me something too?” he called after her. (Y/N) rolled her eyes as she heard his request and quietly made her way towards Tom’s joint living room and kitchen. “Babe?” Bounding from the bed, his heavy footsteps could be heard as he made his way toward her. “Did you not hear me?” he asked with a laugh as he put his arms around her.

“I heard you,” she grumbled.

“Then why didn’t you say something love?” Tom chuckled into her ear.

“Because you’re a grown ass man who can get his own food,” she said with a short tone.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” he asked while trying to pull her into a close hug.

“Nothing,” she groaned while grabbing a spoon and the jar of peanut butter.

“Stop lying to me, (Y/N),” Tom pestered. “I know you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry,” she protested as she doubled dipped in Tom’s peanut butter jar.

“Passive aggressively double dipping means you’re angry. We’ve been together long enough for me to pick up on that,” Tom said while repressing a small chuckle as (Y/N)’s nose curled at his cocky behavior.

“Well double dipping is a stupid rule in the first place,” she gasped. “You’ll stick your tongue in my mouth but I can’t stick a spoon or chip in something twice?”

“My double dipping quirk isn’t on trial here,” Tom protested as he took the JIF from (Y/N)’s hands and screwed the lid on. “Your jealousy is.” Taken back by his assertive demeanor, (Y/N) raised her eyebrows and lowered her tone.

“Excuse me?” she started. “Do you mind restating that or is this what we’re going to do today?”

“How else should I put it? You’re angry and I can’t imagine why since nothing has happened besides me confiscating my peanut butter and showing you that video. Given that you were angrily eating my peanut butter, and passive aggressively double dipping, I’m guessing it’s the video that made you mad.” Tom breathed heavily as he leaned against the counter after placing (Y/N)’s snack behind him, forcing her to discuss the situation and physically approach him in order to get what she wants back.

“No, Thomas, it wasn’t the video,” she stated. Tom’s lips curled as she said his full name. She had never called him ‘Thomas’ before but he knew that couldn’t have been a good sign. “It was the way you reacted to the video.”Confused, Tom furrowed his eyebrows and stared at (Y/N) for an explanation. “Your heart was accelerating, you watched it repeatedly, and you can’t sit there and tell me that on that last bit you weren’t slightly turned on because I could feel it–I knew you were.”

“And so you automatically think I’m…I’m what, wanting to cheat on you? That you’re just some place holder until I can woo Zendaya?” 

“It’s not the greatest feeling in the world to think about someone you care about getting off to someone else,” (Y/N) grumbled while debating if it was best to leave the kitchen and try to abandon the situation or stew in the sheer awkwardness of what was happening.

“You’re too smart to be this fucking dense,” he huffed while tossing his hands into his hair in frustration. Equally frustrated at his maneuver, (Y/N) pushed past him and rinsed of the dirty spoon in the sink before pacing back into the bedroom and fighting the urge to lock herself in there. Desperate, she tried to search for her keys. “(Y/N),” Tom sighed, “what are you doing?” When she didn’t listen and continued to search for her keys, Tom’s tone started to harden. “Love, I was joking.”

Don’t call me that,” she stated as she spun back around to face him with tears resting along her eyelids.

“Darling, stop,” Tom called while stepping forward and taking hold of her arm. “Look at me,” he prompted as she stubbornly bit her lip and reluctantly brought her face to his. “Tell me what’s the matter.” With bitterness in her heart, (Y/N) looked Tom dead in the eyes and spoke.

“You’re too smart to be this dense,” she spat back.

“You know that’s not true, (Y/N),” he called out to her.

“Cut yourself some slack every now and then Tom,” she said in returned while breaking free from his grasp to wipe the tears that had started to fall.

“(Y/N),” Tom called as his girlfriend continued to search his room for her car keys. “(Y/N) wait!”

“What?” she snapped while turned back to him.

“What are you trying to do?” he asked in a calm, quiet voice.

“I’m trying to leave,” she stated.

“Why are you leaving?” he asked again, trying to calm himself so that he could help her come down from the elevated levels of anxiety rushing through her body.

“Because I don’t want to sit here and think about how you’re better off with anyone besides me,” she stated in aggravation.

“Why in the world would you think that, love?” he asked again, this time managing to lace his fingers into hers.

“Because,” she stammered while slipping her hand from his. “Because you deserve someone like her. You deserve so much more than the little I have to offer. You should be happy and after noticing your reaction to the video, I can see you’d be happier with her.” Tom hated to hear those words flow from her mouth. His lips bore together so tense there wasn’t a gap for airflow to be seen. His jaw line clenched and his eyes narrowed down at the girl before him. For a solid two minutes he stood in silence, trying to find the right words to say while trying to keep his heart from breaking as he witnessed this precious soul crumble before him.

“I clearly must not be a very good boyfriend for you to think that,” he said softly. Instantly, (Y/N)’s head perked up and her eyes exhibited the fear her heard had hidden. Tom could clearly see her lips mouth the word ‘no’ as she gasped for air. He extended his arms and pulled her against him; holding her around her shoulder blades, her arms slipped around his waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder. “I don’t want you to ever think that I don’t care for you. You mean so much more to me than any woman ever could and I should have told you that before. I should have told you loads of things before now that I haven’t and, I suppose it’s not proper timing to say this now, but I was thinking of you earlier.” Against his chest, as he spoke, Tom could feel (Y/N)’s breathing begin to slow and he pulled her even closer. “I was imagining if that were us, but I didn’t say anything because I, well I didn’t know how to say it.”

(Y/N) clung to Tom as tightly as he clung to her. Her light assault of tears had subsided minutes ago but she still wasn’t certain on whether to take his apology for all it was worth or not. She cared about him too much to lose him, but then again, she knew she had to preserve herself from any more potential heartache that would come from a half-assed apology. It wasn’t until she felt the slightly dampened shoulder of the flannel she wore that she realized Tom was equally hurt. She knew Tom was sensitive–in fact it was one of the features she found most relieving about his personality–but she wouldn’t have thought he would be so hurt by his own words. 

“You’re not a bad boyfriend, Tom,” she said softly as her arms loosened from his waist and she took his jaw in her hands. “You’re just too good to me that I sometimes think you’re too good for me.”

“I don’t ever want you to think that love,” he stated with such conviction as he pressed his lips against hers. “I love you, (Y/N), and I don’t want you to ever believe you’re not enough. You are more than I could have ever asked for and I am truly happy to share my time and my life with you.” He took her again in his arms and pulled her beneath the covers. While the world spun on they laid beside one another and slept in the purest form, comforted by the fact that the other was there and that their lives had grown closer through the argument caused by ‘Versace on the Floor.’ 

Dishes Best Served...

Commissioned by @theanimangaofitall Thanks so much and I hope you enjoy it <3 (also it won’t tag you for some reason???)

Pairing: Nalu

Works count: 2.5K

Lucy glares at the dirty pile of dishes in the sink, unamused with what she sees. Her hands settle on her hips, foot tapping against the wood floors, and she counts several different ways of killing her fiancé with one of the dirty spoons sitting harmlessly on the counter where it shouldn’t be.

She’s been gone for three days, away on assignment for Jason, her boss at the magazine Sorcerer Weekly, to interview the famous Runway model Mirajane Strauss, and she gave him two things to do while she was away. Two very simple things that she prayed he would be able to accomplish: do the dishes and feed their pets.

Judging by the state of her kitchen sink, Lucy can only hope that Happy and Plue aren’t dead.

Now, Lucy loves Natsu, she really does. He means the world to her and she’s able to forgive him for anything short of homicide, with some exceptions, of course. Sometimes, though, he makes her want to kill him with a rusty spoon and bury his body in Gray’s backyard. Illegal, maybe, but Gods does he deserve it sometimes. He’s her best friend and the love of her life, but he’s also a slob and sometimes she regrets ever moving in with him.

Lucy growls under her breath, eye twitching as she stares at the pile of dishes that’s at least twice the size of what it was when she left earlier in the week, a marvel in itself, considering how much she knows Natsu can eat. She doesn’t know how the hell he manages to look like a walking marble statue when he puts away his own body-weight in food every day. That’s hardly an exaggeration either, but fuck, if that’s what gives him his crazy stamina than she can deal with it from now until they’re eighty and gross and sex completely off the table.

Well, she doubts sex will ever be completely off the table, but she’s not going to risk breaking a hip to get some, be it with Natsu or not. She figures she’ll marry at least twice in life. Lucy plans to be happily married to one Natsu Dragneel from spring of next year until the time he unceremoniously dies from doing something stupid, like trying to back flip off moving car, or ski down the staircase. Lucy guesses she’ll be around her mid-thirties at that point, and will marry again by forty to fill the empty void in her heart where Natsu once was, the dumbass.

Though, there’s also a very good chance that he’s about to die at twenty-three for being an absolute fuck-nut and not doing the damn dishes. She asks him to do fix two things, and he makes one of them worse.

Lucy has a feeling she’s going to cry when she sees what the rest of the house looks like.

And maybe she’s just a little bit bitter than Natsu didn’t come to greet her at the door like he usually does, always more than excited to have her back home. It’s been a good five minutes and she hasn’t seen him anywhere yet.

Sure, she’s home a good half-hour earlier than expected, but does that really make a difference? She wanted to surprise him a little, but now she can’t even find him. And she knows he’s home. His motorcycle is in the driveway, and she knows he would rather risk getting her foot shoved up his ass than ride in a car, but that doesn’t explain where he might have gone.

Happy and Plue also aren’t anywhere to be found, which is mildly concerning and Lucy’s fear for their lives spikes for just a moment, though she knows Natsu would never intentionally neglect to take car of them. It’s just odd, really. Plue is always the second one to greet her at the door, jumping on her and giving her kisses, nearly shoving her back out the door with his lap dog mentality, despite being damn near one-hundred pounds. Happy isn’t usually this shy either, coming out whenever he hears the door unlock.

A pout forms on Lucy’s lips, and she slowly spins around, glancing around the otherwise immaculate kitchen. Her eyes narrow in confusion, Lucy not understanding. It’s cleaner than when she left, and it even looks like he dusted above the cabinets, the one place Lucy is too short to reach. That’s peculiar for two reasons. One, she finds it hard to believe that Natsu would go out of his way to dust when he has a mild allergy, but can’t do the dishes, which is something she actually asked him to do. And two, she’s pretty sure neither of them have dusted up there for a good year, considering they both hate doing it, meaning there had to be some kind of dust bunny army up there.

She’ll have to thank him for that, but not until after she chews him out for not doing the goddamn dishes.

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anonymous asked:

In Dreamers, how is the relationship between Ink and Vera? I know they sometimes work together around the world, but, do they get along?

Well, Ink is pretty distant from everything as a person. He does get along with people and has relationships with them but he’s mostly very solitary, and he lives alone in a house away from the rest of the Skeleton root tribe he barely visits since he’s always travelling around (and not necesseraly in the Dreamers world if you get what I’m saying). Vera seems to be the same kind of person, she travels around the world away from her brother who leads the tribe, and she can handle herself just fine alone. Vera and Ink seem to have this connection where they know how and when the other needs space, so in that case, being comfortable with one another becomes much easier.
Besides when they travel “together”, half of the time they’re away from each other and reunite every once in a while. XD

i die

bughead fanfiction


“Thus, with a kiss, I die.”
—William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet


She thinks maybe he hates her now; and truthfully, she wouldn’t blame him were that the case. Most days, Elizabeth hates herself. The selfishness in forcing him to be a bystander to a marriage she never desired. 

After the marriage to Reginald Mantle, Betty had persuaded her father to take the foal she’d been tending to, to her new home with the added help of Forsythe.

The look he’d given her was not one she was used to. It was a mix of emotions, all poorly concealed fury and hurt. Yet, he’d put no fuss up, and nodded politely to Reginald as he was addressed and spoken to regarding the animal.

“Don’t you fret, Mr. Jones,” Reginald had spoken with a smooth voice when they’d settled into their home and introduced her to the small staff there. He had then shown her beloved his quarters, and Betty was relieved and surprised to find it was a decent room, indeed. “You’ll settle nicely here, I assure you. Mr. Connelly is reaching his golden years with his ripe age, and his tending to our animals has been slowed for some time now because of it. My wife speaks so fondly and surely of your work ethics, I have no doubt you’ll become a vital part to this home and family.”

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“Give me the sword, Kingslayer.” “Oh, I will.” He sprang to his feet and drove at her, the longsword alive in his hands. Brienne jumped back, parrying, but he followed, pressing the attack. No sooner did she turn one cut than the next was upon her. The swords kissed and sprang apart and kissed again. Jaime’s blood was singing. This was what he was meant for; he never felt so alive as when he was fighting, with death balanced on every stroke. And with my wrists chained together, the wench may even give me a contest for a time. His chains forced him to use a two-handed grip, though of course the weight and reach were less than if the blade had been a true two-handed greatsword, but what did it matter? His cousin’s sword was long enough to write an end to this Brienne of Tarth. High, low, overhand, he rained down steel upon her. Left, right, backslash, swinging so hard that sparks flew when the swords came together, upswing, sideslash, overhand, always attacking, moving into her, step and slide, strike and step, step and strike, hacking, slashing, faster, faster, faster… … until, breathless, he stepped back and let the point of the sword fall to the ground, giving her a moment of respite. “Not half bad,” he acknowledged. “For a wench.” She took a slow deep breath, her eyes watching him warily. “I would not hurt you, Kingslayer.” “As if you could.” He whirled the blade back up above his head and flew at her again, chains rattling. Jaime could not have said how long he pressed the attack. It might have been minutes or it might have been hours; time slept when swords woke. He drove her away from his cousin’s corpse, drove her across the road, drove her into the trees. She stumbled once on a root she never saw, and for a moment he thought she was done, but she went to one knee instead of falling, and never lost a beat. Her sword leapt up to block a downcut that would have opened her from shoulder to groin, and then she cut at him, again and again, fighting her way back to her feet stroke by stroke. The dance went on. He pinned her against an oak, cursed as she slipped away, followed her through a shallow brook half-choked with fallen leaves. Steel rang, steel sang, steel screamed and sparked and scraped, and the woman started grunting like a sow at every crash, yet somehow he could not reach her. It was as if she had an iron cage around her that stopped every blow. “Not bad at all,” he said when he paused for a second to catch his breath, circling to her right. “For a wench?” “For a squire, say. A green one.” He laughed a ragged, breathless laugh. “Come on, come on, my sweetling, the music’s still playing. Might I have this dance, my lady?” Grunting, she came at him, blade whirling, and suddenly it was Jaime struggling to keep steel from skin. One of her slashes raked across his brow, and blood ran down into his right eye. The Others take her, and Riverrun as well! His skills had gone to rust and rot in that bloody dungeon, and the chains were no great help either. His eye closed, his shoulders were going numb from the jarring they’d taken, and his wrists ached from the weight of chains, manacles, and sword. His longsword grew heavier with every blow, and Jaime knew he was not swinging it as quickly as he’d done earlier, nor raising it as high. She is stronger than I am. The realization chilled him. Robert had been stronger than him, to be sure. The White Bull Gerold Hightower as well, in his heyday, and Ser Arthur Dayne. Amongst the living, Greatjon Umber was stronger, Strongboar of Crakehall most likely, both Cleganes for a certainty. The Mountain’s strength was like nothing human. It did not matter. With speed and skill, Jaime could beat them all. But this was a woman. A huge cow of a woman, to be sure, but even so… by rights, she should be the one wearing down.
Instead she forced him back into the brook again, shouting, “Yield! Throw down the sword!” A slick stone turned under Jaime’s foot. As he felt himself falling, he twisted the mischance into a diving lunge. His point scraped past her parry and bit into her upper thigh. A red flower blossomed, and Jaime had an instant to savor the sight of her blood before his knee slammed into a rock. The pain was blinding. Brienne splashed into him and kicked away his sword. “YIELD!” Jaime drove his shoulder into her legs, bringing her down on top of him. They rolled, kicking and punching until finally she was sitting astride him. He managed to jerk her dagger from its sheath, but before he could plunge it into her belly she caught his wrist and slammed his hands back on a rock so hard he thought she’d wrenched an arm from its socket. Her other hand spread across his face. “Yield!” She shoved his head down, held it under, pulled it up. “Yield!” Jaime spit water into her face. A shove, a splash, and he was under again, kicking uselessly, fighting to breathe. Up again. “Yield, or I’ll drown you!” “And break your oath?” he snarled. “Like me?” She let him go, and he went down with a splash. And the woods rang with coarse laughter. Brienne lurched to her feet. She was all mud and blood below the waist, her clothing askew, her face red. She looks as if they caught us fucking instead of fighting. Jaime crawled over the rocks to shallow water, wiping the blood from his eye with his chained hands. Armed men lined both sides of the brook. Small wonder, we were making enough noise to wake a dragon. “Well met, friends,” he called to them amiably. “My pardons if I disturbed you. You caught me chastising my wife.”

Poor Little Rich Girl-Part 13

This is an A/B/O AU

*this chapter fills the “True Mates” square on my @spnabobingo card

Your father Lucifer is the Alpha of your pack and he rules your town with an iron fist.  He is forcing you to marry the son and heir of a rival pack.  It is 3 weeks before your wedding when you find out Sam Winchester is back.   Sam was your first love at 17, and when your father found out, he forced his family to leave town.  You haven’t spoken to him since.  What will happen when you see him again?

Characters: Alpha! Sam Winchester, Beta! Dean Winchester, Beta! Castiel Novak, Omega! Mary Winchester, Reader, Alpha! (Nick) Lucifer, Beta! Michael, Beta! Gabriel, Beta! Stephanie (OC), Alpha Eric (OC) Beta! Kerry (OC) Omega! Tess (OC) Alpha! Malcolm (OC)

Master List

Introduction (all parts are linked)

Text messages are listed in Bold

Dean’s POV

I really thought Sam had killed Eric.  He had gone totally Alpha on him and beat him to a bloody pulp.  After what he had done to Y/N, I was surprised Sam hadn’t ripped his fucking throat out.  If Y/N hadn’t begged him to stop, I don’t know what he would have done.  I’ve never seen him lose control like that.

But damn if Y/N wasn’t the bravest Omega I had ever seen.  There wasn’t a spot on her that wasn’t covered in bruises from that dick, but she didn’t let him break her.  As soon as she saw a chance to get away, she took it.  

Watching them together afterward, I knew Sam had definitely met his match where Y/N was concerned.  I could see now why he hadn’t been able to forget her.  She was his true mate, they were meant to be together.

Sam helped Y/N to her feet.  She was very shaky from her ordeal, and he hugged her for a long moment.   “You’re bleeding!” I heard her say in alarm. She looked over at her father.  “We need to call an ambulance for Tess and Sam, Dad.”

“It’s already done.  The helicopter is on the way.” Lucifer assured her, walking towards her and Sam.

A second too late, I saw Eric’s hand movements as he reached for his gun and I fired, hitting him in the neck, but not before he was able to fire off two rounds. Sam whirled at the sound of the shots just as Y/N screamed in pain and stumbled, falling to her knees. “Sam?” She whispered in confusion before her eyes closed and she began to fall.

“No! Y/N!” Sam yelled in fear as he caught her, and his shirt was soon drenched with her blood.  We all ran in to help, but the damage was done.

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Down the Rabbit Hole (pt. 12)

Previous and Next

Amy feels a rush of charged air pass over her in a wave along with the scent of dust and ancient things left undisturbed for a thousand years. She takes a few steps into the chamber lit with an unseen source. The floor, walls, and ceiling are all one perfect piece of marble cut into a cube-shaped room that is almost entirely empty. It’s an impossible place, one of those moments that transcend words as Amy feels herself pass out of reality and into someplace else.

At the center of the room stands a suit of armor. It is not gleaming and bright. Rather it is beaten and battered with age and use in what could be a hundred battles, yet the armor still stands intact. In its outstretched hands is a sword, long and thin and perfect. In fact, it seems to be the source of the room’s strange ethereal energy that pulses with Amy’s heartbeat. She feels drawn to the armor and the sword, as if it were a trinket she once knew well but lost as a child, and now she’s found it right where she left it, here in this room.

“Wilford?” Amy turns back, but the three men cannot follow her. In fact, it seems that they cannot even see into the room. Their worried expressions make her stomach twist up with guilt, but she can’t resist the pull of the armor.

She reaches out her hand as curiosity drives her forward and common sense pulls her back. Finally her curiosity wins over, and she seizes the sword. When she does, another flash of light explodes from the point where her fingers have brushed the handle of the blade, and Amy’s hair is blown back.

When the light fades and the rush of power ceases, Amy finds herself now garbed in the armor. It’s been altered to fit her perfectly, and the chainmail sounds like the ringing of little bells when she walks out of the room with the sword balanced between her hands as it had balanced in the armor’s hands before. Wilford and Bim both take a step away from her, pulling the Host back as well, as she seems to shine with the strange light for a few more moments until the doors close, and the light disappears as quickly as it had come.

“Well, that was rather dramatic,” Wilford muses, obviously shaken by the otherworldly display.

Host breathes a shaky sigh. “Let’s not do that again.”

Bim is strangely silent, offering none of his usual sass or well-meaning words. Instead, he watches Amy—not her exactly but rather the armor—as she walks closer to them. Amy pretends not to notice, but part of her wonders what could be going on behind his attentive brown eyes. “Bim?”

But the figment merely shakes his head, replacing his blank expression with a more appropriate smile. “Nothing, I was simply worried what this means. Usually you don’t need armor unless…”

An explosion rocks the ground beneath their feet. “Speak of the devil,” Bim hisses and runs out of the vault. The others follow after him in quick succession, even Amy who is still slightly stunned by the latest developments. When they reach the ground floor of the castle, the grand doors explode inward suddenly. The force of the blast sends Amy and the three figments flying backwards among the shrapnel, and Amy is glad for the armor until she lands on the steps of the staircase and feels the metal shift uncomfortably under the impact.

The others slide a little farther, beneath the overhanging second floor where they struggle to get back on their feet quick enough to defend Amy. The young woman herself is quick to recover despite her shock, and when she gets to her feet, the sword is in her hand, poised at the ready.

The Red King sweeps into the entryway as the dust of the explosion clears. His dark silver crown is perched perfectly on his head as he smirks at the meager display of force before him. “How nice, the little chosen one found the magic sword. Funny, I wouldn’t have figured it to be you.” Dark gestures towards Amy flippantly. “A small, pretty thing such as yourself belongs in a garden among the flowers rather than in a suit of armor.”

Amy puts herself between Dark and the others. “I won’t let you hurt them.”

Dark looks somewhat amused, tilting his head to the side and continuing to study her closely. “We’ll just have to see about that.”

when connie was first introduced i couldn’t believe how many features i shared with her and how i could relate to her a lot. 

she was a lonely kid with peculiar hobbies and knowledge!! and she was cute and pretty as i wanted to be!! and then they “fixed” her eyesight so she didn’t need glasses anymore. and then her head got bigger and her torso shorter and less skinny. and now it seems her nose is smaller for unproffesional artistic liberties.

her individuality was also taken away from her slowly. steven was light at this but then pearl came into the formula. all her life now is steven. she isn’t pasionate about books anymore. she stills seems to have just steven and that jeff kid as friends. we don’t know nothing else about her. it’s just sad

Ashfall Ch 1


“And that’s why he doesn’t talk to my father anymore,” Chat Noir said with a flourish, grinning down at Ladybug who was covering her mouth with both hands, laughing so hard she had tears streaking her mask.

“I can’t believe that’s true,” she said once she was able to actually get words out.

“Every bit of it,” Chat Noir promised, making a big sweeping X mark over his chest. “Swear on my Miraculous.”

Ladybug smiled up at him, and not for the first time Chat Noir found his heart skipping a beat as the full force of her eyes were on him. She then sighed. “It’s getting late, we ought to,” she paused as he turned away from her after sniffing the air with a frown. “What is it?”

Chat Noir pointed and even with the lateness of the hour, the smoke was evident. “I think it’s near abouts where Françoise Dupont school is.”

“We should go check it out.” Ladybug’s tone was serious, all evidence of mirth gone at this point as she pulled out her yo-yo and threw it out to swing away. Chat Noir followed right behind her. He hoped it wasn’t the school, but if it was, that there was an akuma involved. Not that he looked forward to fighting an akuma at this hour, but at least that way Ladybug could reverse all the damage afterwards.

By the time they got close enough to see where the fire was, Chat Noir regretted his selfish wish. The school could have burned to the last brick for all he cared as he suddenly felt cold despite the protection of his suit. The building on fire was the bakery, Tom and Sabine’s, the one Marinette called home. Frantically he looked down from the building they’d paused at, looking at the growing crowd, trying, hoping, to see familiar figures. Marinette had to be safe. She just had to be!

It was Ladybug’s third whispered “no” that finally caught his attention enough to look at her. She was shaking her head, her fingers curling into fists as she looked at the billowing flames in absolute horror. It was only a shift of a foot, but it was enough for him to know her next move, and Chat Noir grabbed her by the waist, stopping her from the dangerous- if not suicidal- move she was about to make.

“No,” she screamed loudly this time, but not at him. Chat Noir wasn’t even sure she registered that he’d stopped her from swinging right into the flames. Pressing her closer to him, he wrapped her in a tight hug, partly to let her know he was there with her, and partly to keep her in place. “I’ve got to… I’ve got to do something… I have to!” At this point her words were nearly incoherent as she started to sob.

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anonymous asked:

Shipping is in large part about projecting and given that most Jonerys shippers are women I see that they want Daenerys as Queen and Jon as her loving follower (feminism it ain't though). They're basically projecting themselves onto Daenerys. They get wet at the idea of Jon declaring her his Queen and supporting her claim etc but rage at the idea of Daenerys recognizing Jon as her superior ie the rightful Targaryen heir. The double standards are jarring.

The double standards exist in your mind only. My shipping has nothing to do with who kneels to who. But why must we be ok with Daenerys working her whole entire life to get where she is and surviving everything from abuse, rape and numerous assassination attempts, all the while bearing the burden of being the last of her kin and somehow managing to birth 3 dragons, amass loyal followers and a colossal army all for it for it to be snatched away from her. Because that’s what you want. You’re not interested in the fact that Jon won’t seek the throne even after he knows his heritage or that they may end up ruling together. No, what you want is for him to take everything from her. You want Dany to be small, to be weak, to have all she’s sacrificed for stripped away from her. Piss off tbh.

C: I can’t stand my mother. I’ve finally got rid of things that no longer have value to me except her. It pains me because I have to have her in my life at least for the time being while I’m still going to college in Jersey. All my life Ive felt negativity from her even family see that she treats me differently from my sister. Idk if that’s the reason why me and my sister aren’t close or if the reason my mother may have a resentment towards me is because of my father. I don’t know him and she won’t even discuss it with me but sister has a relationship with her father. That’s just one example of why Im so angry. I hate my mother. Now Im the one taking care of things and she still feels the need to have control over me. Ive just recently realized and accepted the the fact she takes her shit out on me and Im done bothering with her. 

In October I left to get away from her but had to come for school because Im trying to do the right thing for me but I don’t know how much no longer I can take it. My heart aches of all the bad memories and I hate crying over this. I try acting like the shit don’t affect me but it does more than I show anyone. I don’t want to talk about it anymore to my friends and cousins because it’s always the same thing. When I think of my life and how I’m happy about certain things and how great my life could be she is the only thing that’s hindering me from experiencing the world and it kills me. But Im keeping my my head up and Imma get through it the same Ive been doing and Im going to make her see that she’s the need one who needed me and once I finally get away Imma be motherless and fatherless but at least I’ll finally be happy and living my life the way I want to.


Hudson was a senior, and a persistent one at that. Like clockwork, every two weeks, he’d try and ask Violet out, each time getting more and more forward. Every time, she’d reject him, and usually Thalia would have to hold her back so she wouldn’t try and punch the guy square in the nose- something he arguably deserved. 

This time was different though. Thalia noticed her best friend looked cornered and nervous. Not her usual pissed off self. She grabbed her best friend’s arm, and pulled her away from the situation, the three teens heading in the direction of the library.

“God, I hate him so much.. Why does he think he can talk to me like that..,” Violet said, quietly.

“Yeah he’s a douchebag,” Levi said, putting an arm around her shoulders. Generally, he was really laid back and non-confrontational, but on the rare occasion when someone tries messing with Violet like that, he would immediately jump in to her defense.  

anonymous asked:

Is it just me or do you think roles could be a little reversed for bellarke in the next season? Like what if this time he comes back and he's moved on with someone but she's wanting him. And we get to see Clarke in a new light cause before she wasn't always the most honest or open when it came to her romantic feelings for Bellamy

I do think we might see roles reversed for Bellarke. Not in what you’re saying about moving on because I don’t think either of them were EVER ready for a relationship with each other, and they were both involved with other people at the same time, so it wasn’t Bellamy pining and Clarke in a happy relationship. They both loved someone and they both lost someone, almost at the same time, although Bellamy’s relationship was longer. And I don’t believe Clarke’s relationship with Niylah was a “relationship.” It was canonically nothing more than what it was. And Bellamy turned away from her, so like, he wasn’t having romantic designs on her while she was with someone else. They were both not ready to be with each other. 

So I don’t think that type of role reversal would work with Bellarke, because you never saw the opposite.

I think we’ll see the role reversal of Clarke desperate to care for her ward, like he was with Octavia, willing to kill for it. Do anything. And we’ll see him looking to build a society while she is more martial. And Clarke wanting to fight while Bellamy wants peace. 

I don’t think the role reversal will be romantic.

Their relationship will change because they’ll still have their feelings, I think, and their connection, but a lot of the struggle they have will be gone. They’ll have new struggles, and those won’t be connected to how they feel about each other. I think. but Idk. they could do anything.

There might be some jealousy. Clarke will be on the outside, definitely. How is that going to feel?

What’s it like to have no social interaction for SIX years? How will she be welcomed back into the fold when they are all family now and she isn’t.

That is so sad. I feel really bad for Clarke, being alone all this time. Glad she had Madi and was able to save Madi, but wow. That’s tough.


Time to greet some of the locals in Oasis Springs!

Dahlia’s first complaint is of a toddler that has been left unattended at home whilst her parents have gone out. She tries to greet the small tot, but she is so scared that she keeps backing away from her.

It breaks Dahlia’s heart to see the little girl so scared - she can’t be much older than her own son, Porter.

Eventually the toddler’s parents do return and Dahlia cites them a warning for leaving her unattended! If she comes back to another complaint, she will be back with social services!

Coming soon...

Always (MOC!Dean x reader)

Dean didn’t really know what being in love felt like until he met her; the girl with the soulful eyes and the brilliant smile that waltzed into his life when he was twenty-four and ended up being his entire world. So, he stood by her through thick and thin, until one day, he realized that the only way to keep her safe was to keep her away from him. But would he really be able to let her go?

Guys! No, contrary popular belief, I haven’t died. In face,I’m still around and almost done with this new story that I can’t wait to share with you. Now I really can’t thank you enough for your support and the fact you stood by me during this insane summer so, I decided to share this teaser with all of you. I’ve been working on this for a while now and am so excited about it. It will be a two parts story; the first part will be posted next week (or a week after that) and the second and final part will be posted on late September (because I have so many challenges that I need to work on lol).

(Disclaimer: I do not own the pictures used for the aesthetic)