While Urban might wanna hang out with Bones, it turns out fans are clamoring for the doctor to hang out with someone else…well maybe more than just hang out. (x)

Hello, Gotham City! We’re the Maniax. You’re all prisoners. What you call insanity, it’s just a prison in your minds that stops you from seeing that you’re just tiny little cogs in a giant absurd machine.


Women of Will: Part 2/? (x)

“Shakespeare was a white male, but he is not a dead white male. There may be only three or four women in each Shakespeare play but they are the key to how to transform a society. They are the teachers and the leaders in a new way of thinking about relationships, hierarchies, and love. They have the focus and energy to counterbalance the authority of the ten to thirty men who inhabit each play.”- Tina Packer

anonymous asked:

Could you do a prompt where Rhaegar lives, Jon is a Targaryen and history repeats itself where Jon kidnaps Sansa, from Joffrey who is her betrothed, but Jon only did it to protect her?

Okey dokey, sorry it’s taking me so long to fill these out, but once I started writing this one it kind of took on a life of its own. Which is to say: It’s hella long. But it was a lot of fun to write and this au meant I got to write baby brother!Jon and alive!Lady. Word of warning: There is some reference to sexual assault in this one, nothing graphic and it’s all below the cut, but it deserves to be mentioned anyway. But anyway, without further ado:

Jon always despised being compared to his father. King Rhaegar was well-regarded as a ruler, a poet, a warrior, but to Jon he would always be the man who disrespected both of his mothers.

He neglected Queen Elia and forced his affection upon Jon’s lady mother, but he didn’t truly love either of them.

No, Jon’s father was far too concerned with his foolish prophecies to pay any mind to the whispers of the court which disdained both his wives in equal measure. Elia for being too weak to keep the king’s affections and Lyanna for being the whore who stole them.

Jon determined at a young age that he would never make the same mistakes as his father. If the prince ever took a wife, he would be unfailingly true to her. He would never spurn his royal duty for misplaced lust, Jon promised himself.

But that was before Sansa Stark came to court.

“She’s a beauty, your cousin,” Egg said not a moon’s turn after Sansa arrived in King’s Landing.

Jon looked to where she embroidered and gossiped with some of the other prissy ladies in Rhaenys’ entourage.

“She has nice hair I suppose,” Jon answered, which of course earned him an elbow to his gut from his elder brother.

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Gary Andrew Clarke | Gary Andrew Clarke (aka The Graphic Nothing) is a designer of shapes and colors based in Manchester, United Kingdom. He holds a BA Hons in Graphic Design from Leicester & Manchester. The photos above are from several shape and pattern project Gay created. I am not sure I can put in words how much these works have excited, charmed and fascinated me- from the mesmerizing use of shapes to the perfect color combinations and compositions, the works are purely spectacular.

Have a look at more of Gary’s works here.

Secrets and Spies, Truths and Lies (9/10)

Summary:  CIA hacker Emma Swan is paired up with MI6 agents Liam and Killian Jones on a dangerous mission to track down an ex-spy who’s hunting and killing agents from both countries.  She thinks she has all the information they need to catch the defector, but sometimes the past is buried where even her expert computer skills can’t uncover.

A/N:   Nonstop action in this one, hopefully to make up for that last cliffhanger!

This fic is rated M for violence, and there will be some here. Nothing too graphic, but if you don’t stomach it, please be warned.

Header credit:  the phenomenally amazing @shady-swan-jones

Rated:  M, for violence, blood, and dark memories

Word count:  ~ 4,500 (~45,600 total)

Tumblr: Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4   Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8   Chapter 10


Ninth Circle of Hell

Emma had no idea what was going on.

One minute, she was furiously setting up the virus to wipe the program, the next she was being roughly pushed up metal service ladders to the main deck of Gold’s yacht.  She was scared, that was for sure, especially when Gold himself stepped out to greet them.  Everything Killian had warned her about, everything she’d learned about the ex-agent over the last week, didn’t help calm her nerves at all.  And the way Killian was looking at her as he pointedly avoided the other man’s eyes just flat out terrified her.

And then Gold held the gun to her head and threatened to kill her.  She swallowed, nerves twisting, wrenching in her gut, certain that Killian wouldn’t let him pull the trigger, but she couldn’t control her body’s reaction to being in danger.  She could only watch, frozen in fear, as Killian looked at her, flinching at Gold’s words.  He was just as scared as she was, if not more.  But there was something else, a different look in his eyes, as he resolved himself to give in to the other man’s demands.

Almost… an apology?

But when Liam emerged from the stateroom, unharmed, unguarded, it didn’t matter anymore.  She saw how Killian swayed on his feet, eventually falling heavily to his knees, shock written across his face.  Anger coursed through her as well - she didn’t want to be right, she didn’t want to think that Liam could betray his brother like that, betray her, the entire mission, and she’d spent the last day hoping she had been wrong in her original assessment.  

But Killian’s reaction had been so intense, and her fear surged to match her rage.

Emma wanted to do something, anything, but she didn’t know how to handle the situation - hell, she barely knew how to handle any field situation, putting her on this mission as her first international assignment was such a joke.  So she waited, watched, listened, hoping to learn something, find an opening, anything she could use to gain the upper hand.  They had her tablet, though by now the virus should have started its initial deconstruction of Gold’s program.  They’d also taken the silenced pistol Killian had given her in the car and all the extra ammunition as well.  She had nothing, and even if she wanted to fight the men beside herself and Killian, the three guards on the deck were easily much bigger than her, and armed.  Even with all the self-defense courses she’d taken over the years, she didn’t stand a chance on her own, and Killian wasn’t in any state to get dragged into a brawl.

She didn’t even know what to think about Liam anymore.

“No,” Killian whispered brokenly where he knelt on the deck, his eyes glazed as he looked off somewhere in the distance, unfocused.  “It can’t be.”

“Killian,” Liam tried again, stepping forward.  But one of the two guards next to Killian grunted and moved beside Gold, and Liam didn’t come any closer.

“How could you?” Killian muttered, still lost somewhere else.  “How could you work with him?”  He bit out the last word, finally turning his head to face his brother, but not before Emma saw the anger building steadily across his features.

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winter nights

Deathberry Prompt - Faith. Tattoo artist/florist AU. 636 words. Slight NSFW, nothing terribly graphic.

Dedicated to @ichigokurosakisbooty because I promised you I’d work on the AU but I’ve been doing squat. I’ll definitely write it, I promise!! For now, have this. I hope it’s not totally trashy. Ily wife 


“From a city so bright,
     to a strange little town;
     on a carousel spinning,
     around and around.

The dizzying height,
     of the stars from the ground.

The world all alight —
     with his sights, his sounds.”

  — Lang Leav

There were two kinds of nights during the winter of the second year.

      The first involved only the most ordinary and mundane of things: small talk here, movie marathon there, hushed conversations about anything and everything in dangerously close proximity, and - above all - hours spent in comfortable silence, feeling no need to fill the space with unnecessary words — simply feeling glad to be with each other, together, here, at this very time and place. ‘A sacred simplicity of love and life,’ Ichigo would often think as he idly traced the lines of the inky flowers on Rukia’s bare back.

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claireklk  asked:

Oh Toni for your prompt can you please do the 9 and/or 20. Make it extra angsty if you want to!

Hi Claire,

Right, this is late, am so sorry.  The ones you chose were:

“I need you” and “i’ll protect you no matter what - even if it kills me”.  This is a zombie effort. 

its fairly long so I put it under the cut, there’s nothing graphic in here, just tons of angst and all Zayn’s POV.  It starts with a bit of a flashback in italics. (am very rusty)


“Fuck off Li, don’t even joke about it,”  he glares at Liam, then hammers a nail into one corner of the wood panel Liam’s holding up.

Liam says nothing for a moment, just reaches into his pocket, pulls out the other nail and hands it to Zayn who repeats the action with the hammer but in the top left corner this time.

Behind them, he can hear Niall and Harry bickering, and Louis laughing, and then just across from them are Paul and Paddy who are playing darts with the board they’d found in the deserted pub they’ve made their home. For now. 

On the one hand, its completely normal, everything in its place, except for how its completely abnormal that Zayn knows exactly what it takes to kill a Zombie,

And Zayn never thought he’d have to hear his fiance, self confessed romantic, hater of horror films and advocate of picking up spiders underneath a glass with a piece of paper say those words.  Words he repeats now, hand on Zayn’s arm, turning Zayn round to face him, brown eyes so sincere, so warm, but as he says the words, so serious.

‘I’m not kidding Zayn, you know am not, whatever happens happens, whatever it takes, fuck the rest of them, I’ll protect you no matter what’.

Zayn shrugs his arm free and walks away but the sound of Liam’s final words are deafening.  It almost feels like a prophecy and it terrifies him.

“Even if it kills me”

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Two figures 3. A6, 2016.

In an aeroplane that refused to travel on account of its no wings or pilot. Extracting black milk to feed the Pie. We had landed in a nightclub full of plastic heads fucked up on fizzy window cleaner and Cillit Bang drunk through empty eyeholes or drown themselves in hot sauce. A pile of very old instruments played themselves with various cut of animal lumps on a tiny stage at the end of a tunnel. Another Beatles song, I think it was Eight Days a Week, but lumpier.

Fic: Their Vigils Keep


Hanzo wasn’t quite sure what was more embarrassing: being kidnapped or being kidnapped by a rival crime family.

Or rescue missions are never simple.

Fandom: Overwatch

Warnings: Implied past torture, but nothing graphic. 

Ship: McHanzo

Notes: This is a loose sequel to “Playing Possum” aka a scene I cut from the original draft ending. You don’t have to have read Possum to follow this at all, but it does provide some context for a few thrown around lines.Thanks to everyone for their support. 


Under the Cut:

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((Hi hi, quick question,

if I could figure out how to do a livestream of movies without fricking things up, would you all be interested?

and if I could manage to figure it out, I could take recommendations for movies,

or heck even shows))

Caught (Shepard/Cortez, James Vega, Mass Effect)

32. Getting Caught in the Act

(Ethan Shepard/Steve Cortez, told from James Vega’s POV. Nothing graphic but implied. You have been warned. Timewise: During ME3, though before their relationship is common knowledge on the Normandy.)

James knew something was going on in the back of the shuttle bay. After all, Shepard had walked in through the doors ten minutes ago. James greeted him as usual, and Shepard nodded to him before heading back to Esteban’s work area.

Ten minutes and Shepard hadn’t left yet.

And it was quiet. Too damn quiet. 

What the hell was going on?!

James frowned and put down his datapad. He hoped neither Loco nor Esteban had fallen asleep. After all, both of them were workaholics. Maybe I need to get those two, plus Scars and L2, to go bar-hopping next time we’re on the Citadel. Dios, I’m pretty sure I can teach all of them a thing or two about letting your hair down…

He walked to the most secluded corner of the bay, hidden by the Kodiak on one side and supply crates on the other. Now James heard low murmurs, odd-sounding scrapes and creaks, a sigh or two…

He cautiously peered round that corner and saw…

Oh. Oh. Mierda. 

Luckily, only Esteban spotted him. Before the man could say anything, James made a shushing gesture, then slowly backed away without saying a word. He fled back to his own work space, and tried not to laugh aloud.

I knew it! I knew it! Loco and Esteban?! A whole lot of things suddenly made sense:  Esteban’s evasiveness, Shepard’s late-night visits, the odd little gestures of affection in the Kodiak before they were dropped into a battle zone. 

But James had no idea just how deep that relationship went…well, now he knew. And all he felt was a sense of Damn, about time!

Fifteen minutes later, Shepard appeared, though the commander didn’t seem out of breath at all. James raised his hands.

“Hey, Loco, before you say anything: it’s okay. I kinda figured you two were…busy, and anyway, what you two do in your off time is none of my damn business. Though it doesn’t bother me, and if you don’t want me to say anything, I won’t.”

Shepard closed his mouth. His lips twitched in embarrassed humor. “And here I was with a whole speech ready. You sure about–”

“Yeah. I’m just glad you two found each other. If you two want privacy in the future, just give me a heads-up and I’m gone, okay?”

Shepard laughed. “It’s a deal. Thanks, James.”

“No problem.”

You Can Have My Heart But You’re Not Gonna Leave With It

Request: (by @im-a-hippie-at-heart) Hi there I was wondering if I could request a fic based off the song Chewing Gum by Nina Nesbitt? I’m not picky about the pairings or anything (I chose a Dean x Reader for this cause I thought it’d fit ver well and you can listen to the song here: Chewing Gum by Nina Nesbitt)

Characters: Dean x Reader

Warnings: implied smut but nothing more and literally nothing graphic

Words: 1608

A/N: So there are two anon requests coming up one’s a Cas x Reader and the other one a Dean x Reader they will come but it might take a while cause I’m a bit busy with school and stuff. Other than that feel free to requests something just keep in mind it might take a hot second

The moment you caught his emerald green eyes you knew that this evening would turn out way more interesting than you had thought. He was lining up his shot at the pool table as you were watching him, his head turning and catching your gaze.

You continued to watch, unashamed and very well aware that he knew you weren’t able to tear your eyes off of him. The last hunt had been a hard one and for celebration you had thrown on your backless dress and walked into a bar, looking for something you could celebrate with, well maybe this something would turn into someone.

It was amazing how he moved, his broad shoulder moving under the way too many layers of clothing, impressively controlled and determined. You knew that you weren’t going back to the motel alone, when he finished the game and took his drink to come over to your table.

“Hey, my name is Dean.” He said and slid into the booth opposite of you, his gaze lingering on your face rather than any other parts of you, he didn’t seem to be like most guys you’d pick up at a bar.

“Hello Dean, I’m (Y/N).” You replied and took a sip of his drink, never taking your eyes off of the heavenly looking man. This wasn’t the first time you’d have a one-night-stand, it was all you could have in terms of romance. Being a hunter takes a lot from you and one of the ultimate sacrifices is that there’s no way of having any kind of relationship. But as you stared into the green eyes, so deep you were lost in a matter of seconds; you wished or thought that this was different.

Dean smirked your way and you started talking, it was about a lot of things. Apparently he was traveling a lot and working with his brother it was something about the family business and as he said “a long story for another night”. You laughed at the way he said it, it implied there would be another time you’d see each other after all this was over.

He asked about your sudden amusement, “Well Dean let me put it this way: I’m down for whatever but this won’t be forever.” You explained yourself. This was a kind of golden rule, one night things were okay because they didn’t mean anything, every got what they’d needed and you’d be gone before the other one could miss you.

Dean smirked your way, his eyes lighting up with a dangerous spark that had you week on your knees. What the hell was happening, you had always been able to keep your distance and suddenly he came along and just turned every rule you ever had upside down with his eyes and gorgeous lips. “Well, (Y/N), we’ll see about that, maybe I can convince you otherwise.”

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Earning A Bat’s Trust

read it on the AO3 at

by dippkip

There’s something different about the way Bruce is sleeping today, but Clark can’t quite decide what that is.

Words: 1008, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

read it on the AO3 at