and how fierce she is the second one i just

Hiccstrid this season killed me, and I’m only on episode 10, having skipped some in between. But here’s a drabble, sorry if it isn’t very good, I’m writing this off of 2 ½ hours of sleep lol. Takes place right after Episode two. :)


“What’s wrong?” Astrid said with a smile. “You’ve been dazed out for years now. You aren’t broke, are you?”

           Hiccup grinned and shook his head, snaking an arm around her shoulders and giving her a small squeeze, “Thor, no. Though you’re enough to do it to me.”

           “You’re a cheesy dork.” Astrid pecked a kiss to his cheek, causing a warm blush to tip his ears. “Now that the Edge is safe, how about some alone time? Haven’t had that in a few… days.” She frowned, “It seems like it’s been longer.”

           Hiccup laughed, before plucking her up and pushing her onto Toothless’s back, from which forth the dragon gave a little hop and sent the girl tumbling against Hiccup’s own back, to which he scooped her up and twisted around to flash a smile.

           “How’s the view?” He grinned, shaking his head for emphasis, his hair tickling her face.

           She laughed and swatted his head away with one hand, the other wrapped around his neck and torso. “You and your big head.”

           “I thought you said it was my hair?”

           “Both, and can you imagine the combination?”

           Hiccup quirked an eyebrow, before scooping her up a bit tighter and beginning the trek up to the vacant clubhouse, the others having all scurried off to bed. Astrid pressed her nose against the “over-sized” hair, murmuring incoherently.

           “Hm?” Hiccup asked, trying to crane his neck so he could see her expression. “Did you say something?”

           “I said thank you.”

           He tiled his head, “For what, Ast?”

           “Everything. The pendant, your promise. It means so much.” Astrid hugged him tighter, and Hiccup returned the favor. “I don’t deserve you.”

           He blinked in surprise, wondering if perhaps he’d imagined the words. He cleared his throat, voice stumbling as he tried to find a suiting reply. “D-don’t deserve me? I… Astrid, I don’t deserve you…”

           “Maybe that’s why we’re so perfect.” She moved her head, so now her chin was resting on his shoulder. “We don’t deserve the other, we fit like a glove.”

           He double blinked, “Is it possible for that to make sense and yet not make sense at the same time?”

           “I was trying to be poetic.” Astrid huffed in sarcastic indignance, though he could hear the smile in her voice.

           He laughed quietly, then paused when he realized that they’d already reached the clubhouse doors. He let her drop to the ground, before wrapping his hand in hers and leading her slowly inside.

           “Can you believe it’s been over three months?” Astrid whispered, head resting against his arm.

           “I can hardly believe it’s happened at all.” Hiccup breathed in reply. It still boggled his mind why she had chosen him, after all those years of pining for her and ogling as she passed, Astrid hardly giving him a second look. Back then, however, he’d watched her for her amazing talents, beauty, fierceness… popularity even. It hadn’t been true love, just a silly teenage crush… one that he presumed wasn’t returned.

           Little did he know what an amazing person Astrid was- for herself. Even without weapons, without her tough demeanor, she was still the beautiful, kind, smart girl he’d come to love. Yet… why and how did she like him back? It still amazed him and gave him a series of excited chills, the excitement and thrill racing through him whenever he thought too deeply on the matter.

           “So… your Dad?”

           “I think he knows.” Hiccup replied with a small shrug, “Heh, I think he knew before we even knew.”

           Astrid smiled, “It does seem that way- unless one of the gang are his spies. How in the archipelago did he know about our betrothal?”

           “Beats me.” Hiccup muttered, equally as muddled. Who knew, his father might’ve just felt the switch all the way across the ocean on Berk. Didn’t parents have some sort of extra sense or something?

           Toothless snorted and grinned gummily, as though he knew some secret beknownst to them. Hiccup eyed him suspiciously, while the dragon hummed laughter and turned away with a flick of his tail.

           “Useless Reptile.”

           Astrid moved to a door opposite side of the room, and led him out into the cool evening air. There was a makeshift bench against the exterior clubhouse wall, so Astrid quickly plopped into it, dragging Hiccup with her. That done, the two sat for a few moments, hands still clasped and thumbs rubbing the others. Hiccup eventually drew away and instead wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer and allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder.

           “I wish it could stay this way forever.” She whispered, almost silently. “No stress, no interruptions… just you, me, and the view.”

           “Mhm… but if it stayed like this, how would we get wed?” As soon as the words spilled, he wished he could suck them right back in again. A scarlet blush tinted his cheeks until it covered his entire nose and turned his ears red. Oh gods…

           Astrid grinned and with a small laugh, nodded in amusement, “Fair point, Dragon boy.”

           Still blushing like a fool, Hiccup tried to simmer himself down. Gods… wait a second… his eyes drifted to her neck, staring at the pendant dangling from it. Good Thor, they were betrothed! Somehow only now his brain made the click, and he found it coming to a complete halt at the realization.

           Good Thor, Astrid had agreed to wed him someday…

           He feared he might very well faint, but somehow he managed to keep a hold on consciousness. He gulped and opened his mouth, a stammered garble the only noise he seemed currently able to do.

           “Hiccup, what’s-“

           “Astrid, did you say yes?” He choked, turning to stare her in the eyes, shocked to no end. “I-I…the betrothal pendant… Thor, are we-“

           “Hiccup!” Astrid raised her hands and grabbed his face, trying to calm his panicking. “Thor… babe, how did you not gather that by now?”

           Hiccup attempted to stutter a reply, but it came in a ramble of nonsense that made no sense- not even to him.

           “I said yes, Hiccup.” She whispered, voice going into a playfully fierce tone, “I want to be your M’lady forever. Will you be my Dragon boy?”

           Hiccup stared in after-shock, the realization hitting him like a boulder. Thor, SHE JUST SAID SHE’D MARRY HIM SOMEDAY.


           “Astrid…” He whispered, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her lips. She eagerly kissed back, all background noises of the world around them fading as Hiccup fell into the world where only he and Astrid existed.


“You’ll be dead! And then the power will go to one of those miserable adepts—”

“No, it won’t,” Rhea said. She’d wisely sent the older children down first, and was now shepherding the smaller. But she paused for a second, to look back at me.

“And how do you know that?” Evelyn demanded. “They’re next in line!”

“Because the power chooses the Pythia,” Rhea said, fierce pride on her face as she looked at me. “It was what you needed to understand today, what I needed to remember these last weeks. It doesn’t just go to the next in line, whoever people think is best. It goes to the actual best, the very best choice out there.” She dropped another of those perfect curtsies. “Lady.”

I stared at her, and for the first time, and I guessed the last time, I was proud, I was damned proud, that it had come to me. (Karen Chance, Tempt the Stars)

Rhea + Aesthetic

Sorry not sorry but..

Another reason why I like Michael Jackson is his love for black women. He never put them on his videos for props, degreded them, NEVER put white women on a pedestal. They were always the leading ladies. (Minus Lisa Marie but that was his wife so…duh) My favorite is In The Closet with Niomi Campbell. One, shes a beautiful fierce dark skinned goddess. 2. yes I know it was “acting” but he looked like he was just in love with her. All of her. So much movement and chemistry. She was beautiful, he was beautiful, they were just beautiful.

Second favorite is Remember The Time for obvious reasons. Iman is just.. so..beautiful. he was beautiful. Just how he interacts with black women is just so beautiful and you dont get that a lot nowa days. People get mad saying why did he cast that particular girl. Well you forget he is still a black male. Sorry bout it. Yea he had other WOC and a white girl sprinkled here and there but he loved us. And it makes my heart so happy.

Voodoo Doll

Pairing: Blaise Zabini x Ginny Weasley

Setting: Canon-divergent soul mate AU; alternatively, the Running With Scissors AU

Word Count: 1,711

[ one ]


A mark appears on the very center of Blaise’s chest during a routine mid-morning Charms lesson.

He registers the pain, and then the tingling, and then the power—and his first thought upon realizing what’s happening is of the horrid, cratered pink scar on the outside of his mother’s ankle; the only imperfection she doesn’t cover up with jewelry, or money, or lies. She’s on her seventh husband now. Blaise suspects he’ll be attending another funeral by the winter holidays.

But now, under the weight of his school uniform—his skin is pinching, pulsing, pulling. It’s unnerving.

He asks Flitwick to excuse him, and doesn’t bother with an explanation; just a lazy arch of his brow and a half-smile that’s more serpentine than it is sincere—his hands, though, when he finally makes it an empty bathroom stall and unbuttons his shirt and glances down at his new mark—his hands shake, and his jaw tightens, and an ominous thrill of foreboding resonates in the sponge-soft marrow of his bones.

A flashy, scarlet, Roman numeral seven.

He doesn’t know what it means.

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trickstercaptain  asked:

potc B)))


hehehehe B))))))

Mistress Ching

i had to dig this icon out of my old blog for her you do not know how much I LOVE this badass Pirate Empress okay???? Based on an actual 19thc pirate who was probably the most powerful and most successful pirate EVER ( some estimates put her fleet at nearly two thousand ships holy mother of god ) and being the only one in the brethren court scene clearly not cowed by the keeper of the code – what is there not to love about her?

Ugh – I just love how fierce and brilliant and tough she must be to hold such incredible power, and to be the most powerful pirate lord and also one of the ONLY female pirate lords. Just – gimme.

Frances Dix

sneak peek k so this lady gets approximately ten seconds of screen-time but boy howdy do I adore her. She’s got incredible potential to be developed into so much more than the duped mayor’s wife for the sake of a gag – and as you yourself have said, she’s got to be a certain kind of person to want to entangle herself with a hot mess like jack sparrow at that point in time.

I have a weakness for unloved and unexplored female characters – and every woman has a right to her story, and that it’s just as worthy of being told as any man’s, and women should be so much more than crutches to hold up a male character or tools to reveal something about said male character.

there’s dynamite here, I just know it.

In terms of other characters, I once entertained the idea that I’d like to play James Norrington – and had a whole bunch of ideas about his backstory and what I’d do with him as a character – but that never really got anywhere beyond planning stages. I also have a soft spot in my heart for Scarlet and Giselle – because yes give me all your unloved ladies and I will keep them safe and develop their stories too.

i know that headcanoning any loudmouth/class clown/big flirt character as bi is like, an annoying fandom stereotype, but i still feel fiercely that richie is specifically bi… because of actual book content rather than just ‘i feel like it, for reasons i refuse to examine’ lmao… mainly from how he first describes bev, which paraphrased is like. 'she was just one of the guys, but a hell of a pretty guy, and you’re not supposed to think about guys’ underwear right?’ which is just. that’s bi! i’m bi and that’s how i felt about girls as a kid! richie and bill are bi and i’ll argue about it. for everyone else besides eddie gay vs bi doesnt matter to me but can we allow richie to be the one reasonable instance of the 'class clown highly sexual adhd bisexual guy’ fanon stereotype… because its just true and we love him

anonymous asked:

"i found the ring when i was moving my stuff out of your apartment and now everything makes sense" - pretty please :)

The look on her face haunts him, how utterly devastated she had sounded calling his name as she had trudged through the decimated remains of the bank in search of him, how she had fallen to her knees the second she located him and the other hostages, the desperation in her kiss when she’d cupped his face in her trembling hands and sealed her lips to his in relief.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Kate Beckett so scared. It scares him how easily he was able to do that to her and he just… he doesn’t want to be another person she has to say goodbye to, to bury. He couldn’t do that to her, he just can’t.

He puts the ring back in the jewelry box, tucks it back into the drawer before she can return, and steels himself for what he has to do.


He’s different after the bank explosion, distant and on edge the morning after they go back to his apartment, have dinner with his family, and reaffirm life against the wall of his office, in the shower, the bed. That night he’d been so raw and cut open, all of it exposed to her, and she’d held him until he’d drifted to sleep against her with his cheek to her chest, his ear to her heartbeat, until the horror had finally eased.

That had been the last night they’d had together before he began to shut her out while he shut down, using her own old coping mechanisms against her. She goes to Alexis, to Martha, seeking reason, but they’re just as baffled by the sudden darkness he carries as she is, unable to comprehend what would have Richard Castle withdrawing from life rather than celebrating it after nearly losing his own.

“I don’t understand,” she whispers when he tells her he thinks they need a break, staring back at her with hollow eyes and a frown that’s been there for days straight. “Castle, I thought - since when are you the one who has communication issues? What - just tell me what this is about.”

“I just need some time, like you needed last summer,” he reminds her, throws back at her, and it hurts to remember the summer after her shooting, where he’d had to stand by her from afar for over a month and a half while she healed in solace. It hadn’t been fair, not to him, but they had worked through it, moved past it, and she couldn’t understand why he would change that method now.

“But you won’t even talk to me,” she argues, snagging his hand in the foyer of the loft before he can walk away from her (because apparently he does that now) and squeezing his fingers tight. “Was there something… what did I do, Rick?”

For the first time in the four days since the explosion, emotion breaches his eyes, bleeding more darkness into the greys of his irises.

“Kate, I love you,” he breathes, using her grip on his fingers to draw her forward, seal his lips to her forehead. “But I just can’t be with you.”

She had nearly lost him in the bank, and now she was losing him again.

“Fine,” she murmurs, releasing his fingers and pulling away from him, giving him what he wanted. “I’ll stay at my place tonight, start packing up my stuff this week.”

He doesn’t speak, but she doesn’t need to hear anything, doesn’t need to pepper the fresh slice through her chest with salt by looking at him either; Kate glides past him for the front door, makes it into the hall, the elevator, before the tear in her heart splits wider, has her pressing the emergency stop button before she can sink to the floor of the lift, grit her teeth until breathing doesn’t hurt so much and she can leave his lobby with her composure intact.

Castle isn’t at the precinct the next day, not that she had expected him to show, and they have no active cases going, so she takes the liberty of cleaning out her desk of his things. She allowed him a drawer, much like she had at her apartment, where he could keep some of his knick-knacks and a notebook, pens, a plethora of sticky notes with Nikki Heat ideas and dialogue scribbled on the front and back of the multicolored papers. The fault lines in her heart split wider as she packs his things into a small box, biting back ridiculous tears by the time she’s laying his long chain of paperclips atop the rest of the items.

But it’s intrigue that breaches her sorrow when she thinks the drawer is finally empty only to encounter a palm-sized box pushed to the back of the enclosure.

Kate sits back in her office chair with the little black box in her fingers, her battered heart beginning to accelerate in her chest, knocking against the brittle bones of her ribcage. It’s a jewelry box, but he wouldn’t… he wouldn’t have a ring for her if he had intended to break up with her. And if he had, surely he would have removed it from her desk before he decided to end things.

Sure enough, though, when Kate pops open the box with her thumb, an engagement ring is glittering back at her.

He had wanted to marry her. He was going to propose to her. And yet, suddenly, he chooses to end the best relationship either one of them has ever experienced? No, she won’t accept that, she won’t just let him go without a fight.

Beckett pockets the ring once she’s slid her coat on, a job that used to be his, that feels wrong now that the responsibility is her own once more, and spares a glance to Ryan and Esposito.

“Hey, do you guys mind-”

“Covering for you?” Ryan quips with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

Had she really looked that torn up over Castle throughout these last few days that even her boys had noticed?

“We got your back, Beckett,” Esposito chimes in, and yeah, she must have.

“Thanks, guys,” she attempts a smile, but the twisted thing that claims her lips feels more like a grimace.

She takes a cab to the loft, her knee bobbing anxiously in the backseat. Nothing has made sense since the bank bombing – his behavior, their breakup – but finding the ring hidden in her desk drawer has made one thing clear. Rick Castle had loved her enough to want to propose spending the rest of his life with her, and the only reason he would change his mind in such an uncharacteristic manor is if something had spooked him.

Like the idea of dying, leaving her alone like her mother had.

Kate pays the driver, almost stumbles out of the cab once it stops outside his building, but she doesn’t miss a beat after that, striding into his building with determination rushing through her veins, burning through her blood. She climbs the stairs two at a time, too antsy for another elevator ride, and has to refrain from running down the hall to reach his door.

He swings it open after three relentless slams of her fist to the surface, the indignation on his face dissolving the second he realizes it’s her.


“You don’t get to do this,” she growls, not hesitating to step inside, imposing on his personal space and catching him by the cheeks with her hands. “You do not get to force your way into my life, my job, for three years, make me fall in love with you and then just stop. You don’t get to leave me alone in this.”

He groans at the punishing press of her mouth to his, the surge of her body arching into him, feeling just how badly he does at lying to her, himself. Castle’s hands fist in the back of her coat, dragging her body up hard against his, indulging the work of her lips and clash of teeth, giving it all back to her.

“Don’t want to hurt you, Kate, just don’t-”

“You already did,” she chokes out, losing control of the shortened reins on her emotions, digging her fingers into his shoulders to survive the force of them beating against her like a harsh wave. “You give me a reason or we work this out, Castle. You are not allowed to just decide we’re over, you can’t-”

“We aren’t - can’t be over,” he rasps, his head shaking against her, his body backing hers into the still open door, nudging it shut. “I tried-”

“I love you. I’m not naïve enough to think that will stop bad things from happening, but I would rather be with you now, savor every second, than lose you and be left with the ‘what if’s,” she says fiercely into the inch of space between their mouths. “What happened with the bank… losing you would have ruined me, but I wouldn’t have changed anything. Never would have chosen not to love you.”

Castle’s chest has gone still, blue eyes wide and staring back at her. “How did you-”

“I’m a detective, you idiot,” she mutters, loosening her bruising grip on his shoulders to drape one of her palms to his throat, lowering the other to her side, to delve into the pocket of her coat. “And I found this while I was clearing out my desk.”

He stops breathing altogether the second she holds up the jewelry box between them.

“I don’t know when you planned to do it, if you - but I know you,” she whispers, the fierce ache in her chest gentling with his body towering over her, curled around her, and a wedding ring balanced between them. “You wouldn’t just… stop loving me like this.”

“I never stopped,” he protests on a ragged exhale. “Not even close, I - I thought… fuck, Kate, I don’t know what I thought.”

“Trauma does that, you know,” she murmurs, placing the ring in his hand, his to return to her whenever he decides, and banding her arms around his neck. “Over the last few years, though, you’re the one who taught me talking about it is better than bottling it up and doing something stupid.”

“Wish I’d taken my own advice,” he gruffs, curling his fingers around the box, dropping his forehead back to rest against hers. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Kate sighs and skims her nose along his cheek, submerges her fingers in his hair. “My forgiveness could be earned.”

“Oh?” he breathes, a tentative hint of a smile cracking across his lips.

“You have four days of hell to make up for, “ she muses, her thumb stretching outwards to skim the shell of his ear. “But Ryan and Esposito are covering for me for the next hour, could be a good time to get started.”

Castle lifts his free hand to graze his knuckles along her cheek, his touch so tender and good, so viscerally missed.

“Might want to pick a better hiding spot for that too after I leave,” she mumbles, flicking her gaze to the ring still cradled in his palm, and Castle huffs.

“Did you open it?”

“How do you think I know what’s in it?”

“Now I have to get you a new one,” he decides, slipping the box into his pocket, replacing the fit of it in his fingers with the bone of her hip beneath his palm.

“But I liked-”

“Ruins the surprise, Beckett,” he murmurs, earning a roll of her eyes for the ridiculous logic, but she doesn’t care. Castle is slanting his mouth over hers, kissing her against the front door and wrapping his arms around her body to pull her closer after she had spent nearly a week convinced they had crashed and burned.

He’ll propose to her someday soon and she’ll say yes, she has no doubts or reservations about that, but for now, she just wants this, him.

Like a Pirate (1/1)

Summary: The barwench in Emma laments the fact that she never got her night with Captain Hook … 
Rating: M. HARD M.
Notes: This is smut, smut, and nothing but smut (the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written and likely ever WILL write) and I’m not even KIND OF sorry about it (and it’s all Maggie’s fault, so this is also dedicated to her). Killian is pretty dominant and in his full Captain Hook glory here, so … enjoy it, babes. ;)

Can also be read here and here

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So I’m most likely not going to finish it before Christmas [workload + flu]. But… buuuuut I want to share, so excuse me and the wall of text.

The idea was simple, I suddenly had craving for Genos and electric guitar, because it would look amazing. And then it spiralled downhill, and went into some weird metalband!AU thing.Like… 

  • Genos has scenic arms, probably several of them even. Some may be rawr pure heavy metal, other more thin, gigersque, bio-mechanical. Everything designed to look cool and/or creepy. Since his arms and black-sclera eyes look already nice enough, I’m toning down details on outfit, to not overdo him… though I could see him wanting to go overboard, until someone told him that all those spikes, chains and absolutely ridiculous corpsepaint is stupid.
  • Sonic on bass, because adhering to the “hot bassist” rule. With some super cool, and probably a bit fanservicey outfit. Tho I’m pretty sure he’s not happy with being a bassist, and wants to take the second guitar, to prove something. And Genos would sabotage all his tries in finding a new bass, because he don’t want to deal with Sonic pushing for some super-speed stuff if he ever gets near that guitar.
  • Tatsumaki with organ/keyboard that’s super complicated, and huge, and baisically floating all around her. She probably don’t even needs to use her hands to play it >_>
  • Mumen Rider on drums, the only one sane man. If there is the heart of the team, that’s most likely him. When everyone are too angry, tired or meh, he always knows how to boost up morale. Also he’s super dedicated, and can adapt to any kind of style and tempo the others chose
  • Saitama on vocal, but I get the feel he could also grab the guitar and rock it. No idea how he manages to even get into it hahaha. Still I have cool idea for his picture.
  • Fubuki… my friend said she could be a manager or something like that… but I’m leaning on perhaps second vocalist? Not sure if permanent diva, or just doing some collaborations from time to time with rest of the time. Or maybe it starts as a collab, and then joins for good later?

And generally, all of them looking fierce and roar on promotional materials, and being total dorks in backstage/interview with derp and tsun faces, Sonic being asshole who pokes people with sharp objects, Genos the comically stoic one, and adorkable Rider.

And I shaaddap I"m sorry lolol. I have way too many ideas on that stupid thing.