a good night for a fist fight

i was actually planning more for this but i got impatient, decided to try out some colors and suddenly here we are. (twitter)

Levi taking Eren to a fancy ass play - his words exactly - where they proceed to appall all the nobles with Levi`s “crass” language and Eren`s boisterous laughter at everything he says. They don`t even care that all the stuffy aristocrats are whispering and scoffing at them and the two just have a good time together making fun of the horrible acting and plot line.

The only reaction comes when a pompous ass has had enough of their “scandalous behavior” and calls Eren an uncultured brat that doesn`t belong in their society. Eren`s about to brush him off but Levi`s already got his fist in the guy`s face, which in turn makes someone try and hit the Captain back, then Eren hits that guy, and suddenly they`ve started a bar fight in the middle of a high class theater.

The night ends with them barely escaping the MPs and limping home with matching black eyes while they laugh their asses off.

Long story short, our neighbors had a fist fight going in the middle of the night so my mom calls the cops. After the cops settle it a complete stranger who is ginormous comes to the door drunk and stoned and yells at my mom “you bitch, why did you go and snitch to the police.” And my 5'1" mother just says “it’s 2017, who the fuck says snitched?”. So she slammed the door in his face and calls the cops again. While they are arresting him he’s yelling that she’s a “no good snitch” and while he’s being put into the police car she screams back “it’s 2017 dumbass”.

I feel this explains a lot about me.

FP Jones x Reader- Figure it out

Thank you anon for the request! As I stated before everyone in this fic is legal age, and the reader will be older than Jug. I also made it so FP was young when he had Jug, but there was still a large gap.

Anyway I am so so sorry this was late. Aaaaah I hate that this was so late. I hope I wrote it to your standards and you like it ^^ If not please let me know and I will try to fix it. Also thank you so, so much for the well wishes you sweetheart <3 Hope you are doing well anon!

I don’t know yet if I will continue to allow age differences like this in my writing as I wasn’t too keen on writing it. I wasn’t a big fan but I did want to get this one written, as I said I would

Warnings: Age difference, swearing, implied smut

Words: 2160

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Unscripted

SPN FanFic

~Things are so much easier in the movies.~

Jensen x Reader, Jared

2,406 Words

Warnings: Excessive misuse of classic movie quotes

A/N: This is for Arie, @bringmesomepie56​. I have no idea what the hell this is, but I think it’s adorable. Hope you like it. 



“Tonight is the night,” you told yourself as you took a deep breath and followed Jared into the pub. “I’m gonna tell him how I feel.”

“What’s that, Y/N/N?” Jared asked over his shoulder. He could hear your voice over the symphony of noises that engulfed you as you moved towards the bar, but he couldn’t make out your words.

“Nothing,” you hollered back, lifting your chin to push your words up towards his ears. Too damn tall.

Jared gave you a quick once over with narrowed eyes and a playful smirk. “You’re up to something.”

“Am not!”

“Y/N,” he said, pulling you with him as he sank onto a barstool. “You didn’t take your makeup off, your hair is down and… quite nice actually, and that tank top…” Jared shook his head and bit his lip, trying to avert his eyes from your ample cleavage like the good friend he was.

“What about my tank top?” you defended, pulling your shoulders back and pushing your breasts almost into his face.

Jared laughed, “You look amazing, is all I’m saying. But I know what you’re up to. Just fuckin’ tell Jensen how you feel and be done with it.”

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011. tattooartist!jungkook

011. “may i have this dance?”

Jungkook never really had a liking towards fancy and such extravagant events. He didn’t hate it, per se but rather… it’s the prejudice on it that society worships things to be put on a golden pedestal or else it wouldn’t be considered an important event. It irritates him just thinking about it. However, on the other side of his mind where he learns to appreciate the little things, it wasn’t so bad.

No, how could it be bad to see you use this reason to dress up to the tip, willing to show him that you can be a princess if you wanted to? The heels replace your usual sneakers, messy hair now combed nicely with a garment that covers up all expectations and more with a simple black dress that wraps around your body nicely. Jungkook has never felt happier to attend an event before.

The agreement was for you two to meet up separately, mainly because the time did not align for you to come together. It was better than not having you here at all, he thinks. Now as he sips onto a glass of champagne and secretly hopes for something else that he’s used to… someone that he is catches his eye.

Jungkook sets the drink aside and straightens his coat on his body before making his way formed in his mind to get to where you are. Based on how you’re looking around only makes his heart swell at the thought you’re looking for him. No one else, none other than - “Jungkook,”

He smiles at your surprise, growing even wider at the spark in your eyes that is no match for the chandelier twinkling above. His hand extends out as he dips down slightly, fingers uncurling for your own, “May I have this dance?”

It’s unusual to see him act this way not because he wasn’t good at it (if anything, good lord he is and he should wear suit and ties more often but) you know deep down, it’s not his kind of thing. He’d rather spend his Saturday night at the bar with the guys or in his workspace to come up with some new designs or… with you at home he’s mentioned is one of his safe havens to breathe and be human. So this, for him to put aside the lifestyle he’s used to just to step into your own made you happy. Eh, he’s gotten into fist fights and situations not suitable in a ballroom before but he’s on his best behaviour tonight.

Just for you.

“I would be sad if you didn’t,” Your hand slips into his and he shakes his head with a tsk, “How could I ever,” Jungkook pauses, to hear your gasp in between as he slides the pair of you onto the dance floor with his arms around your waist guiding you there. Your wide eyes does things to his ego when he sees how speechless you’ve become, your fingers trembling at the back of his neck before they find familiarity and relax, the same time he finishes his sentence, “Miss out an opportunity to dance with such a beautiful lady?”

He smirks when you refuse to say anything, resorting to move to the music playing in the background. Initially, Jungkook intends to pretend like he didn’t say anything before but as the seconds tick by and a spark in your gaze has him curious.

“Why aren’t you saying anything, love?”

“I should watch what I say in a formal event, Jeon,” He squints his eyes at you, tilting his head and you spot the telltales of his tattoo. You use a hand to cup the side of his head to put it back into place where it hides his artwork not meant for people in here to appreciate. He blinks, and it’s a split second until he feels your breath against his ear.

“I’m holding myself back before any indecent exposure happens,”

“…such dirty words from a pretty mouth,”

“Why, me? I didn’t say anything,”

Jungkook shakes his head with a wide grin, pulling you close and his hands are lined up lower than your waist but high enough to be away from being inappropriate. He leans in to press a kiss on your cheek before dragging his lips over to your earlobe. His breath hits your skin and it makes you shudder but to the public eye, it’s nothing. Simply a sweet gesture that can only get sweeter knowing what he means when Jungkook whispers into your ear: “Just wait until we get home, Miss Y/N.”

Better For Me (Part Two)

Pairing/Characters: Bucky x Reader, Steve x Natasha (Reader sometimes calls her Natalia), Sam Wilson, let’s just say everyone in the fuckin compound lmao

Warnings: Swearing, cocky!Bucky, sexual tension, eventual smut, it’s a slow buuuurn

Summary: You meet one of New York’s richest Bachelor’s. He’s hot, he’s rich, and he’s an absolute fucking asshole. Luckily for you, you’re an asshole too and you could take a challenge any day. Within the first 24 hours of knowing each other, you’ve already pushed each other over breaking point. But when something comes up, you’re both forced to try and get along. Can it be possible?

Word Count: 3011

Chapter Notes: Bucky apologises to Y/N but being the self centred prick he is, he makes her snap, making her push him to his breaking point. Does she really think he won’t go down until he’s pushed her to her breaking point?

A/N: The start is pretty filler-ish, all the nice stuff is near the end <3

<<<PREVIOUSLY ON BETTER FOR ME

Originally posted by likemadeofstarlight

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at dawn

presenting the gryffindor quidditch captains through the years to celebrate the new @hpquidditchnet !

It starts at dawn.

Minerva McGonagall stands broom in hand, eyes on the lilac stained sky. She feels the urge stirring in her bones, the urge to take off, to feel the cold breeze under her ribs, to fly. The smell of broom polish is intoxicating, the soft rustling as robes flutter in the wind a symphony to her ears, her heart soaring underneath the red and gold crest.

She is home.


It starts at dawn.

James Potter watches the tired faces of his team as they complete drill after drill. His eyes track their movements, scribbling notes in his head over the lists of names that burned through the evening paper the night before. He etches drills and plays over the images that haunt his dreams, filling every space in his skull with scrawling diagrams until it is just a sea of ink. Marlene sails the quaffle through the hoops, fist in the air and cheer in her throat.

This, he thinks, this is what we’re fighting for.


It starts at dawn.

Too damn early, in Charlie Weasley’s opinion. It had seemed like a good idea when the new keeper, Wood, had suggested it, but now he’s freezing his arse off at five in the morning instead of buried under duvets he’s reconsidering. The sun’s lighting up the pitch, igniting the fire that burns in his stomach.  It’s this feeling in his chest, the one he gets when he flies high above the stands, that makes him feel like he could breath fire.


It starts at dawn.

And Oliver Wood is ready. Because the feel of a broom under him and goggles holding his hair back on his forehead does something to him. Like every part of him finally settles, slotting together to make a machine of blood and bone and sinew. He is ready, captains armband tight around his arm, ready to carve his team into history where they belong. There is lighting in his bones and thunder in his heart.

A storm is coming.


It starts at dawn.

Angelina Johnson can already feel the weight balanced between her shoulder blades, already hear the fears whispering in her ear. But there is fire in her veins and she won’t go down without a fight. She watches her team, her family, fly. Katie and Alicia, laughing as they duck and weave through the air; Fred and George trying to aim bludgers through the hoops; Ron, looping the pitch slowly as he adjusts his gloves; and Harry, Harry with his eyes that have seen too much, making pulling out of a dive look like a lost art.

There is hope yet she thinks.


It starts at dawn.

Well, it should be starting at dawn but Harry Potter has never been known for his timekeeping abilities. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he never does, he probably never will, but standing there, boots crunching under leaves that have swept onto the pitch, he feels a tranquillity he hasn’t felt in a while. The team is different from the one he entered six years ago but it’s still the same warmth in his chest as he kicks off from the ground.

The pounding in his chest reminds him he’s alive.


It starts at dawn.

Ginny Weasley bites her lip as she leans against the base of one of the hoops. The pitch is one of the few places she can come without hearing the screams of battle, without smelling the smoke of war. Her hand is still shaking though as she glances to the stands where she used to sit and watch games, watch her brothers, watch Fred. A new morning breaks as the sun rises and she walks to the huddle of scarlet clad players.

And so the game plays on.

Marvel’s Defenders Go On Their Second Mission

JESSICA: What’s out there, Matt? It’s totally dark in this abandoned warehouse.

MATT: I’m not gonna lie to you, Jessica. It’s not good. There’s [pauses to listen] forty-seven dudes in there, at some of them sound like they’re carrying rifles but we have to assume they’re all armed, and [sniffs] at least ten of them have doused themselves in AXE Body Spray.

JESSICA: You can tell how many by smell?

MATT: Enhanced senses aren’t always a blessing, Jessica. Wilson Fisk eats an omelette every day. You wanna ask me how I know that?

JESSICA: [Thinks] EWWWWW.

MATT: Right. And if you kick him in the stomach, it just [makes a fart noise] right out. It’s gross to you, and a World War One chemical weapons attack to me. Hang on, Luke’s coming.

[Enter LUKE Cage]

LUKE: Sorry I’m late, guys. I had three Ubers cancel on me once they saw they were picking up a black man.

MATT: Wait, Luke’s black?

LUKE: Very funny, Matt. What’s the situation?

JESSICA: We’ve got 47 armed guys, in a pitch black warehouse, between us and the hostage.

LUKE: If it’s pitch black, we’ve got to conclude they’ve got night vision.

JESSICA: Yeah. Good thing we’re both bulletproof. And Matt’s here’s good at sneaking around.

LUKE: Yeah. So. We go on three? One… Two…

MATT: Wait! Is that [sniffs] patchouli?

JESSICA: Oh, no.

[Enter DANNY Rand]

DANNY: Hey guys!

JESSICA: Fuck.

LUKE: [longsuffering sigh] Hi, Danny.

DANNY: I didn’t get the text that we were meeting up!

JESSICA: That’s because we aren’t going up against Cobra Kai, Danny. These guys have guns. And night vision goggles. Matt can fight in total darkness, Luke and I are bulletproof, and you…

DANNY: I’m the Iron Fist!

JESSICA: Christ almighty. Did they name you “Iron Fist” because of your uncontrolled erections as a teenager? Last time out you hid behind Luke the whole time. Listen, one of these assholes puts a bullet in your abdomen and Matt’s not going to be able to come within a hundred yards of you because of the smell of your colostomy bag.

DANNY: Leave Matt out of this.

JESSICA: Am I right?

MATT: Yeah, you’re right. Uggggggggh.

JESSICA: Your superpower is you’re a guy who “knows kung-fu.” You’re so white you don’t even know kung fu is not a martial art, Daniel-san.

DANNY: Don’t call me that!

JESSICA: What? Daniel-San? You prefer Danny Rand? Really? Was Annie Rand a little too on-the-nose for your parents, rich boy? You do this John Galt thing for twelve years and you’re supposed to be SAVING us? And K’unlun isn’t even a real country! You know where the Kunlun mountains are? Afghanistan!

MATT: Really? Afghanistan?

DANNY: Tibet, actually.

JESSICA: If you were in Tibet, why don’t you say Tibet? President of the Dave Matthews Fan Club here spends twelve years in a training camp in the mountains of central Asia and the Customs and Border Protection folks don’t say a fucking word about it, just let his ass in like it was nothing!

DANNY: Look, I…

LUKE: Obama went to elementary school in Indonesia when he was eight, and Dinesh D’Souza made like three movies calling him a terrorist because of it. Your pasty ass spends his formative years spitting distance from Tora Bora and we’re supposed to be “Oh, Danny Rand! So exotic!” Sweet Christmas–you’re oblivious.

DANNY: Hey! I lost my parents there!

LUKE: Everyone here who’s lost their parents in some sort of catastrophe with possible criminal ramifications, raise your hand. Yep, that’s unanimous. Try again. Wait, don’t. Look at us, Danny. Matt is disabled. Jessica came through a psychosexual horrorshow I don’t even want to imagine. I’m a black man with a criminal record. You’re a billionaire who spent a dozen years studying abroad. You should be building an art car made out of weed for Burning Man using your trust fund, not going up against an armed paramilitary force.

DANNY: This is…reverse discrimination! It’s just because I’m a white guy! I’ve worked to earn everything I had.

JESSICA: Yeah. You’re the majority shareholder in a multinational corporation and you’ve never graduated high school. You read and write English at an eighth-grade level because you stopped speaking it at age 12. You can’t balance a checkbook, drive a car, or bring a woman to orgasm, although you don’t know about the last one because women lie to you to spare your feelings–and the aforementioned multinational corporation.

DANNY: I don’t have to listen to this! I’m outta here.

[Exit DANNY]

LUKE: You think we were a little hard on him?

JESSICA: He was gonna get somebody killed.

LUKE: Yeah, you’re probably right. Okay, we doing this? On three. One… Two…

MATT: Wait, Danny is WHITE?

BTS REACTIONG TO YOU TELLING THEM THAT THEY LOOK SEXY WITH TOUSLED HAIR AND PJ’S

Seokjin: Seokjin was in the kitchen cooking breakfast for the two of you when you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. He jumps slightly and turns around. “You look so sexy when you cook.” You would say to him “Even though you’re a mess right now.” You reach up and ruffle his hair. “When am I not sexy?” He replies giving you a kiss on your nose then continuing to cook.

Yoongi: It’s late at night and you are sitting on the couch watching your favorite television show when Yoongi walks by. “Where are you going looking all sexy?” You smirk. He stops at the doorway turning his head to look at you, “The bathroom.” He blankly states. “Well you’re still sexy, even going to the bathroom.” You giggle. He shakes his head and continues his way to the bathroom.

Hoseok: You look at the picture Hoseok sent you while he was away on tour. You missed him and wanted him to send you lots of pictures. You stare at his tousled hair, checkered pj bottoms, and white shirt. You send him a text back saying he looked sexy, only for you to get a bunch of manly pictures, well, at least he thought they were manly. Little did he know that he went from sexy to adorable all in a couple of photos.

Namjoon: You walk in the dorm with your bags in your hands, you and the boys were having a sleepover. Idea of your boyfriend Namjoon. As you walk in you are greeted by a pair of strong arms around your waist. Namjoon pulls away and you look him up and down. “What?” He asks. You shake your head. “So I can’t walk around looking sexy but you can?” You reply in a serious tone. He just laughs and gives you another squeeze.

Jimin: You were sitting on the couch waiting for the boys to wake up. They had practice until late last night and were exhausted. Your eyes were glued to the television when a sleepy Jimin lied down with his head in your lap. You look at him noticing how good he looked. “You know, if the boys weren’t here I might have punished you for being a bad boy.” You said softly to him as your eyes went back to the television. “Why? What did I do?” He said innocently looking up at you from your lap. “You’re looking all sexy and it’s making it hot in here.”

Taehyung: You were woken up by your boyfriend Taehyung at ungodly hours of the morning. “What do you need hun?” You groaned sitting up. “Let’s go get ice cream!” He smiles. “Why on earth do you want to get ice cream at 1:30 in the morning?” You sighed. “Because I’m bored and I’m craving ice cream.” He pulled on your arm. “Okay fine, can you just turn on the light? I can’t see.” He reached over and turned on the lamp on the dresser. You looked at him and grew a pout. “What’s the matter?” He pouted back. “You look all sexy and girls are going to look at you. Can’t we just get ice cream delivered?” You wined. He let out a deep laugh. “Ice cream doesn’t deliver silly! Come on let’s go, you’ll fight off those girls right?” He held up a fist making a mean fight face that turned into a big box smile not long after.

Jungkook: You had all the snacks lined up on the end of the bed and the movie you both agreed on earlier in the day ready to go. You were waiting for Jungkook to get back with the drinks to get the movie night started. He opened the door with his foot and set the drinks on the dresser turning to face you. Your mouth watered at how good he looked tonight. “Hey Kookie?” You said seductively. “Yeah?” He questioned. “I have a better idea than movie night since you want to look all sexy for me.” You smirked.

~ADMIN K~
Muddled Clarity

After her first experience of drinking a tad too much, the Inquisitor is escorted back to her quarters by the Commander.  Her muddled state leaves him little clarity.  (Because every Inquisitor needs a drank-too-much story.)

Cullen x Female Mage Trevelyan (pre-relationship)

Or read it here on AO3.


“Singing? Really?”  The soldier’s tone held a scandalous edge.

“Well… Is she any good?” His comrade standing across from him at the base of the stairs asked.

The other chuckled and shook his head.  “Maker, no! But then she challenged The Iron Bull to a fight!”

It was late, night had long since muted the colors of Skyhold leaving behind only purples and blues. Cullen descended the stairs towards his gossiping soldiers, gloved hands clasped behind his back.  The two fell silent and straightened with a snapped salute as he passed.  He nodded in acknowledgement.  There was no harm in idle chatter between soldiers and, honestly, Cullen would much rather chastise gossiping than break up another fist fight in the barracks.  These soldiers were on their own time and he would not interfere with how they chose to spend their freedom.

He strode on through the courtyard, the two men resuming their conversation as if he had not passed.

“Honestly, I’d pay to see the Inquisitor fight anyone.”  

“Maker, yes!” the man replied with an enthusiastic laugh.  “Think of the show!”

Cullen slowed his pace, caught up in thoughts and threads that were beginning to come together in his mind.  He eyed the tavern in front of him.  It was the one disparity amid the still darkness of the rest of Skyhold.  Lights burned through the windows and laughter spilled from the doors.  He hesitated. It was not a place he often visited. Varric would say it was because he would not allow himself to have fun.

The Inquisitor had returned that morning from one of her missions in the Hinterlands.  He was not her keeper and, he reminded himself with a firm thought, he was a former Templar.  It was not his place to keep a watch on her.

He hefted a sigh.  But he was her advisor and a friend.  He transferred his hands to the pommel of his sword before heading off toward the tavern.  There was no harm in checking up.  And it would be nice to share a drink with the Inquisitor and her friends if they would allow him.

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anonymous asked:

What if in sticky situations Scout would be used as a distraction for the team?

Yes. Oh God yes.

Scout has gone through re-spawn more time than the entire team put together.

One time the team had gone out drinking at the local bar, they ended up getting into a fist fight with everyone. It got so bad that the cops where called. None of the mercs wanted to sleep in a cell that night so Scout was used as a distraction so that the rest of the team could make their escape.

Solider called out that the cops where here, but there was only one police car. It was now or never for the Boston. Taking off his top and hat, he left the bar going towards the police men.
“Hey boys you looking for a good time”
“Please move aside sir”
“Oh come on, if you like I’ll take the both of ya”
The Police are not impressed and walk around Scout. The man starts to panic he needs to buy the team more time. Taking a deep breath Scout slaps on the cops on the ass.
“What!? Am I not handsome enough for you?”
That’s the last straw for the cops as Scout is pushed to the ground and cuffed. There’s no going back now. Scout keeps talking.
“Oh aren’t you a kinky one. Handcuffs and all. If ya want you can keep the uniform on. I’m always down for roleplaying.”
Out from the corner of his eye he can see Engi giving a thumbs up. It’s going to be a long night.


I also have this idea.  

The team had been called to protect a target, a CEO from a company. The mission had gone well, Miss Pauling had killed the assassin. But there was a new problem; they couldn’t escape from the charity event that this CEO had thrown on. Each time a merc would leave a conversation a new one would start up. This called for plan; a distraction. The biggest one Scout would have every put on.

He had made his way upstairs and into the host’s room where he was now getting changed in to a loose dress. Whoever this CEO guy was married to she had no taste is clothing. He then found make up and slowly placed on eyeliner, lipstick and finally blush. Looking around the back of the closet the Boston found a curly blonde wig. He just needed on last thing to complete his look, a pillow.

It had been a long night for the Sniper, socializing was never his strong point. He was talking to a woman. She had straight red hair, pale skin and wore a blue dress that left nothing to the imagination. All was going well until he heard a woman screech his name. The assassin turned around immediately to see a blonde headed woman storming across the room towards him. The focus Mundy had on her face went straight to her stomach. She was pregnant, in her last trimester.

Panic filled Mundy’s mind. Oh fuck, oh shit, fuck, fuck, FUCK. His mind started to race, trying to remember any of the women he had been with nine months ago. There was one. But he had worn protection. Did it break?? He wasn’t ready to be a father. He still had his job. His parents were going to kill him, a kid out of wedlock.

It was a slap to the face that brought Mundy out of his train of thought. The woman was closer now; he looked at her facial features. No, this wasn’t the woman he sleep with. Who the hell was this person. That’s when it hit him, it’s no lady.
“Scout what the hell are you doing??”
Mundy got no reply instead he got a wink.
“You think you can just walk out on me!!”
Sniper pitched his nose, the kid was making a distraction so the other could get out. Of course Scout would pick him to help. He was never much of an actor but tonight he had to play along. He made a mental note to kill the kid later.
“So your gonna say nothing to me?? What about this baby??”
Taking a deep breath Mundy got into character.
“That ain’t even mine!!”
Scout acted shocked, tears rolling down his face. Shit the kid was an good actor.
“How can you say that!? I was nothing but faithful to you!!”
The argument had created a large crowd; the entire party was focused on them. Both men had hoped that there team had escaped. Now they had to get out themselves. Only one idea came to Scouts mind.
“Look I don’t care that it’s mine! I ain’t giving up on my life to raise some kid.”
“Rick”
“Don’t you Rick me!!”
“Richard”
Scout’s voice had gone soft, like he was in pain. For a split second the Sniper felt that something was wrong. The look on Scouts face changed on from angry to pain. Oh hell, he isn’t actually going to do. Mundy thought. He isn’t actually going to fake -
“My water broke”
He had. The Aussie was going to murder the kid when they left.
Once again the Sniper pitched his nose.
“Come on, I’ll a least drive ya to the hospital”
Wrapping an arm around the Scout both walked out of the house towards the team.
When the team saw both men, they burst out in to laughter. Medic in between gasp had said.
“Congratulations on becoming a father Sniper. ”
“Ha ha laugh it up you wankers”
Even Scout who was still in the costume laughed.
“Oh man Snipes, you should have seen your face”
“Scout, don’t you ever use me in one of your distractions ever again.”

I’m thinking you meant battlefield scenarios, but I loved these ideas to much. Sorry mate.

8

Doing the Good Deed for the Needed

Have you ever heard of the humanoid big-headed crab that fights pridefully with bare fists and only to masterfully bait you, once you try to attack forward, with a series of hand movements to fabricate a glowing, fearful greataxe?

Me neither, but I have witnessed it.

I have worked an entire night to make the cuirass look much better and more fitting for the helmet that Ellerete uses. It still needs work, but most of it is already done. No crashes whatsoever thorough the entire adventuring which is lovely, really lovely news.

|Long-Awaited Savior: Part One|

This is my first ever fic - not just in the Negan fandom, but for anything. I’ve never been much of a writer or reader. Deciding to try something new. Feedback is MUCH needed and appreciated.

Masterlist

Characters: Negan (JDM) x female reader

Words: 2,012

Heads up: violence, swearing, a rapist being found out, bondage (non-kinky), flashbacks, and there will definitely be smut in the upcoming chapters/parts :)

Setup: Negan & the Saviors overrun your community and dole out some long overdue justice, changing your life in the process.


Part One: Justice for One


You jerked awake as you heard the unmistakable sounds of a fight occurring just outside the shed you lay in. Blinking repeatedly, you hastily tried to clear away the dirt that had collected on your eyelids. Your shoulders and hips screamed in aching protest at another night spent sleeping on the solid earth.


For fuck’s sake, I need to learn how to sleep sitting up.

Well, it would help to be able to move around in this tiny shithole.


There were shouts from dozens of voices as gunfire rang out. While adrenaline quickly flooded your veins, your brain went into full fight-or-flight mode, and you weren’t entirely sure which avenue you should pursue. The muscles in your jaw and fists clenched instinctively, but you had to calm down - you were no good if you allowed your body to take control. You focused on your breathing, closed your eyes… and prayed that after all this time you wouldn’t lose your life to a goddamn looter. Or worse, one of the dead.


You tried to push yourself up with your elbow as you strained to distinguish the sounds going on outside, but after a few pathetic failed attempts you collapsed back onto the hard dirt with a frustrated groan. Despite the gag pulled achingly tight across your mouth and the tape shackling your wrists behind your back and your ankles together, you mentally prepared yourself for a fight as the sound of commotion drew nearer. You rocked your body back and forth until you managed to twist yourself into a sitting position - back pressed against the wall and feet coiled, ready to lash out at whoever was planning on coming through those god-forsaken doors.


Come at me, motherfucker.

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Kittens and Mittens

With Gabriel gone for Christmas, Adrien is alone. So he decides to spend as much time as Chat Noir as possible, sleeping during the day and hunting around Paris at night. Until Marinette decides it’s time to intervene.  

Here! Have some Christmas ANGST! Actually, I wrote this a while ago and totally FORGOT ABOUT IT! Now it’s inaccurate because of the Christmas Special, but oh well. Enjoy anyway. 


Part 1

Christmas.

Adrien always tried to get excited about it. Frankly, it was hard not to be. The whole of Paris was festive—trees in parks, people bundled up with hot chocolate, store fronts decorated with lights and garlands. Everyone was abuzz for it all through December, planning and exchanging gifts.

Even Adrien had received a few parcels from his friends the last day before break, which was a first. Ever. Nino had gotten him the new Mecha Strike expansion, which he’d been playing religiously since. Alya had given him a pair of Ladybug socks, saying he’d mentioned them offhand a few months before (he didn’t remember doing so, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed the gift any less). Even Marinette had given him something, which he hadn’t at all expected.

But maybe he should have.

The gloves she’d made him were perfect. Not blue, like the scarf she’d given him for his birthday, but dark green with white accents. The cookies she’d made along with them had been phenomenal as well, though he shouldn’t have expected any less there either.

He’d been a little embarrassed when she’d given him the gifts, to be honest. He’d noticed her signature on the scarf a few months prior and promptly interrogated Nathalie on the subject. She’d confessed to the “mix-up” on threat of him telling his father, which would have gone over poorly for her.

His father hadn’t gotten him anything for his birthday—not even a stupid pen.

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anonymous asked:

How about Kaz and Matthias with kids?

- They adopt, of course. Kaz is surprisingly nervous about it. He doesn’t think he’s good with kids at all

- Neither of them want to deal with diapers so they go for a slightly older child

- Matthias is definitely more protective. Kaz has no problems with the kid playing on the roof of the house but Matthias is absolutely against it

- Kaz absolutely spoils the child rotten. He loves stealing money to buy a special gift

- They tend to play good cop bad cop. Unsurprisingly, Matthias is the bad cop. He runs a strict household

- Kaz loves teaching his kid to do things that aggravate Matthias. Aka pickpocketing, picking locks, and pulling pranks

- Matthias secretly doesn’t mind the pranks but he figures he shouldn’t encourage it too much

- Kaz is the parent that laughs when the kid sasses adults

- However Matthias also teaches the kid how to fight(with fists and multiple weapons) and defend themself

- Family movie nights where they order a bunch of pizza and watch horror movies

- Matthias goes to all the parent teacher conferences. Kaz only goes if the teacher is giving their kid a hard time

- Both of them would kill anyone who would dare mess with their child

anonymous asked:

Hi! i just wanted to say that I absolutely love your blog and can't thank you enough for the hard work you probably have to go through to find all the stories! I was wondering if there were any hurt (physically) Isak ones? Kind of like the bloody nose scene in the new episode?

Hello! I’m glad you’re enjoying my blog, thank you so much lovely :’) Sure, I’ve found a few for you!

  • Broken Days, Broken Nights by boxesofflowers & Eeyoreneedsahug
    Summary: Isak gets jumped while walking back to the apartment. While hurt and in the hospital with Even by his side the entire time, his memories of middle school bullying and fights come rushing back. 

  • kiss with a fist is better than none by DarkBeauty_890
    Summary: “What the fuck,” Isak sighs, and grabs Even’s arm, “I swear I used to be a really good fighter. Have I ever told you about last year with the Yakuza?”“I am so fucking mad at you right now.”

  • Careful by bashfulisak    
    Summary: Even rushes Isak to the hospital after the chaos with the boys and the next day Sana visits them.    

  • We’ll Be Okay by Dooka
    Summary: In which Even is drowning in his own guilt, Isak is boyfriend goals, and Sana gets some proper friends. Or, the aftermath of Episode 5.
Sleeping awake

Originally posted by marilynmay

Summary: Dean x Reader - The Winchesters and the reader is hunting a creature that’s been killing women in their sleep when it comes to them instead.

Triggers: Threat of death, nightmares, panic attack, sleep paralysis

Word Count: 3891

Y/N = Your name  Y/H/C = Your hair colour

Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

[Comment: I suffer from sleep paralysis at least once a week so I guess I kind of wrote this for myself as well. Sorry for the weak sleep paralysis descriptions, it’s kind of impossible to properly describe the helplessness that comes with it. Let me know what you think!]

“So a total of five women have been found suffocated in their beds after several nights of waking nightmares involving complete body paralysis, hallucinations and excessive paranoia,” You read aloud from the newspaper article to the two guys in the front seat.

You were headed towards your next hunt and as usual you were in the backseat as Dean drove and Sam looked through his father’s journal from the front. Seated between the two guys, leaning forward from the cramped backseat, you were repeating the case details to them. Trying to make the most out of the road trip by finding out what the hell you were fighting before you got there.

“No signs of breaking and entering and no external or internal signs of force can be found as a reason behind the suffocation,” You continued, skimming through the printout of the article that had been headline news in the local newspaper and looking through other papers for other titbits of information.

According to the different articles the official statement was that the women had all died from unexplainable SUNDS, sudden unexpected death syndrome, but you knew better. The whole thing reeked of something supernatural. And luckily, you were experts in the field of ganking the evil sons of bitches that usually were behind killings of the more paranormal persuasion, or just behind anything plain weird.

“So what are we thinking? Ghosts? Incubi?” Dean said from the front seat, his emerald green eyes glancing up at you through the rear-view mirror.

“I don’t know… The women’s explanations make it seem like a ghost is doing it, but there is something off about the whole thing,” You said, chewing on the nail of your thumb, a bad habit that reared its ugly head whenever you fell deep into thought.

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Through the nights(Sombra/D.Va)

It was just another night for D.Va, just another night of being ceaselessly harassed by ghosts, just another night of haunting the Watchpoint’s corridors. It was 4 AM, that time when you are too tired to try and put on a mask, that time when the sun seems to have been a lie. Hana sat in the mess hall, eating a bowl of cereal, her eyes lost on the gigantic window. Gibraltar was a wonderful place during the day, but it could be utterly terrifying at night, especially when she was struggling so hard to keep it together.

Waves crushing against rock, slowly destroying it, bit by bit, day after day, month after month. It was so peaceful at day, it was so scary at night. She wasn’t a child anymore, she had lost her innocence, she had taken lives. Hana Song once wondered if she’d be a ‘good’ hero ‘ or an ‘evil’ hero. In the end, she realised that she wasn’t necessarily good or evil, she was alive, it was enough. It should have been enough.

She didn’t quite know why, but just waking up, exhausted from a sleep that didn’t help much with her constant feeling of being tired, eating without tasting, laughing without meaning it, smiling without wanting to, didn’t really felt like enough. It didn’t even feel like living.

Almost every night, when she wasn’t out risking her life for the good fight, she’d look out this huge window, wishing that her enemies’ bullets would’ve found their mark. During the day, she’d look at her friends, whom where smiling, joking as much as she was, and during the night, she’d sometimes hear the sound of muffled crying, of fists hitting the wall. Maybe this was the price of being a hero, of saving people. You save people, because you can’t be saved yourself.

During those quit moments of deep reflexion, she sometimes was joined by Zenyatta, he seemed to feel when people most needed him. He’d sit, not far from her, looking straight at the window, and she’d talk. Sometimes, it was just song lyrics that struck her. Sometimes, it was bribes of her past. He listened. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. Hana never quite really opened up to anyone in Overwatch, until this night.

It was this night, where she had ran out of booze to drink herself into a stupor, sitting in this exact same spot, with bags under her eyes. It was this night where Sombra found her. It felt like the hacker had always known about the Korean girl’s night reflexions, and it pretty much was the case. Sombra had been watching her, intensely, during fights, during days off. She decided that this was a night too much. She sat down, right across D.Va, holding two mugs of strong coffee.

Hana looked up to Sombra, she was surprised, she had never been joined by anyone else but Zenyatta during those nights. She didn’t expect Sombra, of all people, to join her.

“Are you going to take this coffee, or to daydream-well, more like nightdream, until we both die of old age?” Said the older woman. Hana thanked her, taking the coffee, bringing the mug to her lips, her eyes never leaving the hacker’s. She had so many questions, but all she did was drink the coffee.

“You’re more talkative during the day,”

“Do you mind?”D.Va’s words usually had more punch, but Hana was tired, so tired she couldn’t sleep.

“Would I be here if I did?” Sombra took a long sip of coffee. She didn’t feel like blinking, she liked getting lost in the Korean’s eyes, but they were usually livelier. They felt as dark as the night surrounding them.

“Why are you here?” Finally asked Hana, after a long moment of contemplative silence. It wasn’t awkward, it just felt right. It felt like the kind of silence who said everything.

Sombra leaned back in her seat, never once breaking eye contact, and smiled smugly.

“To help,”

“To help /who/?”

“It’s up to you.” She grinned, it was kind of her signature grin, the one who’d make you cry out in frustration, or melt into a puddle of adoration.

Hana groaned and sighed, but instead of staring at the cold, brutal waves of the water smashing against the rock, she stared at Sombra’s eyes.

This soon became a ritual. Every night, for a month, they’d come during the night, whomever was arriving in last position made the coffee. D.Va preferred Sombra’s coffee. Sombra secretly preferred D.Va’s coffee, but she would rather die a painful death than admit it.

They’d talk. Sometimes, it was just small talk and witty banters. It took a few nights for Sombra to bring back Hana’s cunning spirit back, during those late night dates. The hacker was afraid of where she was heading, but caution be damned, the ride was pleasant, and she knew it was only the beginning. Sombra would trade sleep to spend more time with the streamer.

From time to time, one of them would bring a book, a poem, a picture, something they liked, and they’d talk about it. More often than not, the other would go back to their room with it, and would spend time figuring out why this meant something to the other. It was exchanging crumbs and crumbs of themselves, little by little, they started to open up.

They talked about their pasts. During those conversations, when one of them had to look away, either lost in old memories, or to hide the tears making their eyes shine, the other would take their hand, it felt comforting.

The others didn’t really know that the equally snarky professional gamer and hacker shared a close bond, a bridge made of coffee, quiet giggles, memories, over waves crushing against rock, under the moonlight. This was an unspoken secret, one that needn’t be shared.

One night, D.Va told Sombra she had to go on a two day routine mission. The hacker of course already knew this, she wasn’t expecting things to go the way they did.

On the first night, she went and sat, she didn’t stay as long as she usually did, but this time, she sat at Hana’s usual seat, and gazed where the young Korean woman once gazed.

On the second night, she sat at her usual seat, mentally listing what she wanted to tell Hana, which movies she wanted the Korean to watch, which question she wanted to ask, which joke she wanted to make. She missed Hana, there was no point in denying it. But she wasn’t about to admit it.

She didn’t think there’d be a third night without Hana Song. She didn’t think she’d wait until the mess hall was filling up with agents. She didn’t think she’d spend so much time trying to figure out where the hell was Hana. She didn’t think she’d learn that the mission had gone wrong, and that the Korean was held in the med bay, in critical condition.

She didn’t think there’d be a fourth night. Nor a fifth, nor a sixth.

On the seventh night of this insufferable wait, Zenyatta came, as she was sitting on the table, right in front of the big window.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

But she did. In her native language, she told him. She told him that she missed her. That she thought that her coffee was the best around. That since her ‘date nights’ with D.Va started, her nights became brighter than her days.

On the eighth night, she learned that a certain Korean left the medical wing. She waited, with one cup of coffee, sitting pretty where D.Va should’ve been. She was afraid that Hana left this world. She was afraid that this was her last night of sitting in the mess hall, she didn’t want it to end. She didn’t want it to end like this.

She didn’t want to have regrets. She hated regrets. Sombra often told herself that it was better to regret doing something than regretting not doing it. She didn’t want to stand at Hana Song’s funeral, she didn’t want to have to say a few empty words, when she knew so much. When she knew Hana’s favourite books, and what she did on her worst nights. When she knew that Hana preferred the way Sombra made her coffee than the way she did. When she knew all about Hana’s past, to her childhood, to her first battle. When she knew that she put some light in the Korean’s eyes. Information was power, but she had never felt so powerless.

The sound of the mess hall’s door opening snapped her out of it. She got up abruptly. Standing in the doorway, covered in bandages, stood D.Va. The Korean slowly got closer, walking slowly to the hacker, their eyes never leaving the other’s, not even when the Mexican hacker broke into a sprint, her arms embracing the younger woman, this felt nice, this felt right.

Her arms around Hana’s waist, her arms around Sombra’s neck, their noses almost touching. She could feel her breath against her lips. D.Va smiled, a subtle, knowing smile. She had the information. She had the power. She kissed her, she poured all of her soul into it. Sombra kissed her back, with equal passion, letting her tongue gently tease the Korean’s lips, before entering her mouth, their tongues danced, this wasn’t just a kiss, this was a confession. This kiss said what was left unsaid during the date nights, this kiss of equally shared passion, love, and devotion, was like coffee under the gaze of a knowing moon, above breaking waves, above pain and despair.

The kiss ended when they had to get some air, but none of them dared to pull away, they stayed like this, panting slightly, lost in each other, finding what they thought was bound to be forsaken. Sombra brought her nose close to Hana’s.

“Don’t you even-”

“Boop.” Sombra giggled, Hana couldn’t help but join in. She took the older woman’s hand into her own, intertwined their fingers, and went to make her a coffee. Sombra embraced the smaller woman from behind, gently kissing her.

“Does that make us girlfriends?” Asked Hana, handing the hacker her mug of coffee.

“If you’re okay with it, I’d be glad to be your girlfriend, hermosa.”

They sat where D.Va’s seat used to be, Hana was more than glad to sit on her girlfriend’s lap, sipping on her own coffee.

“This feels amazing.” Hana turned around, so that she had each leg on either side of her girlfriend, still holding her cup of coffee.

And again, they were lost in each other, kissing, gazing into the other’s eyes, as if they couldn’t get enough of it.

Three words were dying to be said, but they had time.