and then had to make half of them in black and white

Different Colors (We Carry Each Other)

This is my (late, sorry!) Christmas present to @bellamyblakeprotectionsquad2k16 <3333

Black and white soulmate AU

Being an artist was much narrower of a profession when you only saw black and white.

           Clarke had tried painting in color a couple of times, making sure she had Raven or Lincoln or someone else who had already met their soulmate with her, but she couldn’t make sense of it—the idea of color. How to mix them, or make them pop, or which ones went together. Even with the grayscale of her vision, she struggled to wrap her brain around it, so she quickly gave up and went back to her pencils and charcoal.

           She didn’t have a real reason to be eager to meet her soulmate, outside of that; she could live her life without impairment, eating and working and dating without worry of commitment. Still, though, there was that curiosity, that intrigue, that…wanting, to know who the other half of her was, the person she would die to protect.

           When Clarke turned eighteen and Abby insisted she needed to celebrate, despite Clarke’s general desire to just eat ice cream and cry about how she had to be an adult now, she invited as many people as possible for the express reasons of a, getting her mother off her back, and b, seeing a lot of people without having to interact much with them. She said they could bring friends she didn’t know, either, just in case one of them was her soulmate. Not, of course, that she had any interest in soulmates now that she was eighteen and out of the house and eligible for marriage.

           She greeted everyone at the door as they came in, and boy, were there a lot of them; a hundred people must’ve come through before she gave up and slipped to a back area. Half of them she didn’t know, and half of those people she didn’t want to know. Her old friend Lincoln Moon hadn’t shown up, either, which was disappointing; he claimed he was bringing his girlfriend Octavia and her ‘one-of-a-kind’ brother. She had been eager to either make friends with him or punch him in the jaw, depending on what one-of-a-kind meant.

           An hour into the party, after a few long, unwanted conversations and a narrow escape from some guy she would have never invited on her own, Clarke went to the front of the house again to see if anyone knew had shown up; there were always those few stragglers who liked to show up excessively late and call it fashionable. It was extremely crowded, even worse than before, and her small size meant she had to shove and push to get there, so she was starting to regret the choice until she heard a familiar voice call, “Hey, Clarke!”

           She turned towards the sound and saw a large, tattooed man with a bald head and a neatly pressed suit. “Lincoln!” she said, sighing in relief. “I was worried you weren’t going to make it.”

           “No, I just had a little trouble getting this one out the door,” he laughed, gesturing to a smaller, dark-haired girl in ragged yet fashionable clothes.

           “Octavia, right?” Clarke asked, sticking out a hand.

           “Yep, that’s me,” Octavia said before promptly shoving Clarke’s hand aside and pulling her into a tight hug. It took Clarke a second to respond out of surprise, and by then Octavia was already pulling away to look her over. “You’re even prettier than Lincoln claimed, though he was probably downgrading you so I wouldn’t get nervous,” she mused. “Such a nice hair color.”

           “Thanks, I’m assuming, though I can’t see it,” Clarke said, squirming a little under Octavia’s eager scrutiny.

           “Oh! I forgot, you haven’t met your soulmate. Well then Bell will love you, he hasn’t met his yet either and I think he’s going mad surrounded by all these people who are.” Octavia stepped back and looked around the mass of people, frowning. “He was supposed to stay with us, but he always wanders; can’t sit still. Bell! Bellamy!

           “Coming, little sister,” called back a low, rumbly voice from just a few feet behind Clarke. “What do you need?”

           “I wanted you to meet Clarke Griffin. She’s the birthday girl,” Octavia said, gesturing.

           Clarke turned and met Bellamy’s eyes, simply nodding in greeting so she could look him over for a moment. He was handsome, and as he shook her hand and said hello, he smiled in a cutely crooked way, and—and then. She dropped his hand in shock just as he did the same, both of them staring at each other in agape silence as, little by little, their grayscale figures were filled in with color.

Keep reading

5SOME! Hair and Makeup

Words: 2.8k

Warning: 5some! 69, blowjob, eating out, anal, grinding…I just

Request:  Another 5some?? Where you walk in on the getting changed after a show and it escalates from there? Sorry if it’s a bother :/

I placed my pen onto the clip board and sighed. I was working with the boys from 5sos, I was there make-up and hair person and they wanted to dress up as Kiss today. So not only did I have to do their make up, I had to make them look half decent with Black and white face paint. Not that it was a hard thing because lets be honest they could wear any make-up and they’d all look hot still. 

They’d done the interview and show and managed to somehow get to there dressing room without consulting me. I had a lot of things to do and them not checking in with me was pretty hard because I have to get them ready for the award show tonight. I walked into the dressing room where the boys are and looked down at my clip board.

“Ok so for the award show Michael you’re going to have a slight hint of eyeliner on as it makes you look hot and-”

I looked up and gasped. “S-shit I’m so s-sorry” The boys were changing into their clothes and i’d never really seen them in just there underwear, even though they’re know for walking around naked, I had never been blessed enough. I held my hands over my eyes and turned around.

“Never seen a boy in a pair of underwear before?” Michael snickered

“No no I have but I was dating him and stuff” 

“Stuff?” Ashton asked

“Y-yeah, please put your clothes on” 

“What do you mean by ‘Stuff’?” 

“I think you know, clothes on please”

“But Y/N, we want to know stuff” Calum spoke, I felt someones hand grip my waist and I removed my hands from my face and turned around. It was Luke and his piercing blue eyes were travelling over my body. He stroked up and down my sides and his hand went under my shirt rubbing circles into my hip.

“W-what are you doing” I stuttered

“You’re supposed to help us right?”


“Well pretty lady, we’re all so horny and we want you to help”

“Thats unprofessional, I can’t” 

“Please Y/N” Michael whined, I looked over to him and he had a pout on his lips, I looked into his eyes and I saw them twinkle. Luke kissed down my neck and Michael and I were in a trance as he walked up to us. Michael tilted my chin up and kissed me, his soft lips pressed against mine. Luke sucked onto my sweet spot and I moaned into Michael’s lips. Michael swiped his tongue against my lips, taking control of the kiss. I reached around running my fingers through the back of Luke’s head as he licked over the spot he’d been sucking on. Michael ran his tongue over mine and sucked onto it, feeling the smoothness of his tongue. They both pulled away from me and I kissed Michael a couple more times before he stood up straight. 

“So do you want to help us?” Michael grinned, I scanned down his half naked torso and the waistband of his boxers, there being small black hairs above where his dick was. If I knew any better my eyes were probably in the shape of hearts right about now. I walked forward slowly, swaying my hips and kissed in the middle of his chest, looking up.

“I would love to help” I whispered, brushing my lips against his. He ran both his hands over my cheeks and through my hair, to the back of my neck. He pulled me forward and kissed me again, this time getting straight to the point and sucking on my lips and swiping his tongue over my teeth. He tilted his head to the side kissing me at a better angle and pulling me close to his chest. I placed my hands on his collar bones and moved to wrap around his neck. He moved his hands to my waist as he moaned into my mouth. He kissed over my lip and pulled on my lip between his teeth. I could already feel myself getting wet, the way Mikey was looking at me. His green eyes blown with lust, the pupils wide and just shimmers of green. 

“Fuck” I whimpered, licking over my lips and tasting Michael. I looked over at Ashton who winked at me as he lent up against the wall. He motioned his hand for me to go over to him and I did so. Ash ran his hands under my shirt as he peeled it off my body. Ash stroked over my breast, the skin just above my bra and he leant forward kissing the skin. I pushed Ashton’s hair back as he sucked on the skin. I let out a mewl as he licked over my collar bones. Ashton’s lips were definitely under appreciated as he sucked onto my skin. I bit my lip and walked further into his face so I was situated between his legs. His hands came underneath my skirt, to my ass as he massaged it. I leant down as Ashton sucked on my neck. Ashton stroked up my body and unclipped my bra. I held my boobs up as he pulled my bra from my chest and placed it next to him. I let go and he held them in his huge hands.

“God they’re so perfect” He moaned rolling them around in his hands. His thumbs and forefingers squeezed my nipples as I leant down into him. I kissed over Ashton’s jaw, one of my favourite things, it was scattered in brown hair’s which complemented him very well. I felt two hands on my ass and they weren’t Ashton’s as his were tweaking my nipples. The hands on my ass pulled down my panties under my miniskirt, dragging them tightly against my skin. I stepped out of them leaving me in just my Black high heels and mini skirt. 

“Look at this ass” Calum groaned. I giggled into Ashton’s neck sucking on the patch of hair just below his jaw. Calum’s plump lips kissed over my ass, sucking small love bites into the flesh as I sucked onto Ashton making hickey’s. I bent into Calum’s face wanting him to do more to my ass. He kissed the dip of my back and down my ass nearing my back hole. He licked a stripe from my entrance up to my back. 

“Eat her out good” I heard Luke say from the side of the dressing room. Ashton latched his lips around my nipple and sucked onto it. He flicked his tongue over the brown nipple and moaned around it sending vibrations. Calum spat onto my back hole and ran his fingers across it, lathering up the hole. I grinded my body into Ashton as twirled his tongue around my nipple. Calum slid one of his fingers into my ass hole and I parted my lips. Ashton kissed my lips at my discomfort and pinched both my nipples bringing my face closer to his. Calum pumped his finger in and out of my hole. I breathed deeply shutting my eyes and leaning my head onto Ashton’s. 

“I want her to ride me” Michael whined. I was getting used to the feeling of Calum’s finger and opened my eyes. Ashton stood up from the desk and Michael slid down into his place. He gave me a cheeky smile before taking off his boxers. He let his cock free and I looked at it, it was a lot redder then I imagined. I kissed the tip of his dick bending down before I reached up pecking his lips. Calum entered another finger into my hole as I stroked Michael’s cock. Michael ran his fingers down my body towards my ass, he pulled my ass forward, Calum’s fingers slipping out my ass. Michael brought me towards his lap and I sat down over his thighs. I placed my hands on his shoulders and lifted myself over his dick and sat down. 

“Shit” I stuttered, feeling his large cock fill me up. I ran my fingers  over the dip in his body between his collar bones and shoulder and dug my nails into him. I slowly started grinding on him, rubbing my clit against his tummy. I wrapped one of my arms around him and my other one caressed his small chub underneath his armpit.  I dug my nails into him rolling my hips and 

“You’re always running after us, you need to be treated like a princess. How’s about I fuck your ass whilst you keep riding Mikey?” Calum whined, kissing my shoulder. I reached round my arm running my hands through Cal’s hair as he sucked onto my skin. 

“Answer me Y/N” 

“Yeah” I breathlessly moaned, I rotated my hips on Mikey’s. Mikey leant his hands on the side and I ran my hand over his tattoo’s. Calums stomach was now flushed up against my back and I felt his dick pushed up against my ass. I felt Calum press his tip against my ass. His mushroomed tip prodded my entrance and I shut my eyes, waiting for the impact of being double penetrated. I slowly moved my hips on Michaels, his dick rubbing against my walls, I felt my pussy’s juice drip onto Michael as he smirked rubbing my clit. 

“You fuck me good Mikey” I moaned resting my head on his as Calum edged his cock inside my back hole. Calum gripped my waist as he slid slowly inside me. I stopped riding Mikey and focused on the small pain coming from my back end. Michael sensed my discomfort and kissed me. His red lips slotting into mine and moaning onto them. Calum held me tight, wrapping his arms around my chest and clinging onto my breasts. Calum slowly grinded into me, my ass clenching every time he would fill me up. I started moving my hips in time with Calum, rocking myself onto Mikey. I stroked over Michael’s chest and held his shoulders in my hand. He kissed over my cheek and under my jaw, sucking onto it. I ran my fingers through his hair as his tongue swiped over my sweet spot and his lips tugging on my skin. 

“Feels so good” I moaned, pushing his face closer to my neck. Calum sped up his pace, digging his nails into my ass. He gave my ass a light slap and groaned into the other side of my neck. I leant my head back on his shoulder as he pinched my nipples in his hand. I groaned running my hands over his as he twisted them in his fingers. Calum started groaning louder in my ear, biting down on my shoulder. Both there cocks were filling me up at the same time and I never felt so much pleasure pushing against my inside walls. 

“Fuck” Calum groaned pulling out of me. He jerked himself off next to us as I bounce on Michael’s cock. Calum came over the table and groaned holding his cock in his hand. I whined wrapping my legs around Michael’s waist tightly as he stood up pushing me against the wall, he pulled my legs up against the wall, bending them slightly. He thrusted his long hard cock into me, it hitting new angels. I hit my head against the wall letting out a raspy moan as Mikey hit my g-spot. I looked down watching him roughly pound into me, him dragging his cock all the way out just to get a couple of harsh thrusts. 

“You close?” he whimpered. I nodded my head clenching my pussy around his cock and pulling on his hair. He growled, his thighs shaking. I reached my orgasm, cumming around Mikey and falling limp. Michael pushed right up against me, holding me still as he came inside me. I placed one of my feet on the floor and Michael let go of the other one, his cock slipping out of me. Michael backed away from me giving me a sexy grin, gripping his cock and squeezing it.

“Baby girl, you think you can cum again for me?” Ashton said, his hands going straight to my core, spreading the juices and dipping his fingers into my entrance. I whined being sensitive from my orgasm and Ashton smirked. He took his fingers out of me and put them in his mouth, sitting on the table. He pulled me in-between his legs and laid back. 

“Sit on my face and suck my cock” he rasped. I smiled to myself climbing on top of him and turning around so I was met with his cock and my pussy was hoovering over his face. I grabbed him in my hand and swirled my tongue around his tip as he did the same to my clit. I moaned and dribbled over his tip and sucking down onto it. I took my mouth off him as he nuzzled his head into my pussy and slurping up my juices. I grinded my heat onto his face, his tongue pressing harshly down from my clit to my entrance. 

“Suck” Ashton groaned, licking over my entrance. I took him in my mouth, all the way so my nose touched his balls. I swallowed around him and bobbed my head.  Ashton moaned into me his tongue circling around my entrance, licking up my previous orgasm. Ash dipped his tongue into me and flicked it around tasting me. I tucked my hand around by my face and started rolling Ashton’s ball’s in my hand. I started lightly bouncing on Ashton’s tongue, in sync with sucking Ashton’s cock. I ran my tongue over the vein pushing onto it and sucking down hard. Ashton’s cock started throbbing in my mouth and I squeezed the base and his hips thursted upwards in my mouth. I coughed around him and pulled off, I pumped his cock in my hand the sound or squelching coming from the wetness created. 

“Mm close princess” Ashton said sending vibrations through my pussy. I sat up straighter and rolled my body onto Ash’s mouth, feeling his lips drag across my pussy.  I fisted his cock quicker, Ashton’s moans picking up and his breathing getting heaver as he sucked on my clit faster. 

“Fuck” he rasped, hot spurts of white cum came out his tip and over his thighs. I jerked him off whilst he groaned underneath me. I got off his face and and Ashton tucked his hands under his head smiling lazily. I looked over the sofa for Luke and he was sat there in his boxers. I sauntered over to him as he looked over my body. I stood in front of him and stroked up his thighs. He patted his lap and I swung my legs over him. I sat down on his bulge and ran my fingers through his fringe.

“You’re so good to us princess” Luke admired, stroking down my sides. I rubbed my clit against his bulge loving the feeling of it pressed up against me. Luke rested his head on the back of the sofa and looked at me with his dark blue eyes. I ran my fingers over his beard and swiped my tongue over his lips. He sucked onto my thumb as I grinded onto him. He moaned around my thumb shutting his eyes and moving his hips up into mine. I felt my clit flutter on him and he grabbed my hips, pushing me down harder onto him. 

“Are you close?” Luke moaned. I bit my lip and leant forward brushing my nose against his. Luke kissed my jaw as I clawed at his, my fingers running over the stubble. I tucked my legs around him and pressed my chest up against his. I pecked his lips and he smiled bringing one of his hands down to my thigh. He stroked up my thigh to my core, he rolled my clit between his fingers and I let out a whine grinding into him. I felt my second high approach and Luke knew I was about to cum by the way he sped up his movements and had a smirk plastered on his lips. I shut my eyes and came on top of him, my legs shaking as I slow grinded. 

“Shit” I heard whimper against my chest. I opened my eyes to be met with blonde mop of hair leant against my breasts.  I caught my breath back and Luke looked up at me. 

“Oh my god” I said giggling, I moved back off of Luke who was now breathing heavily leant back against the sofa. I looked down at the wet patch on Luke’s boxers and smiled to myself. 

“You think I look hot in eyeliner?” Michael breathed.

So many times people will inquire about my career as a makeup and hair artist and somewhere along the way they will ask, “Does your daughter dress like you?” “You don’t let your daughter wear makeup, do you?” Or my personal favorite, “Do you dye your daughter’s hair?” I usually laugh and say that Eila has played in my makeup bag since she was one and a half, I have never cut her hair since the day she was born because well, it’s her hair. I’ve never pierced her ears because they are her’s. Not mine. She has had pink extensions because she wanted pink hair, the same way she will eventually (maybe) want to cut her hair or pierce her ears and she will be allowed to do that too.

The problem with raising kids with rules against wearing makeup because it’s “inappropriate” while making them cut their hair because it’s “prettier,” is that we are teaching them that makeup and hair and skin and clothing exist to MAKE you pretty. We are teaching them that WHEN they are allowed to do those things, they’ll NEED it. My girls will be able to and are allowed to play with makeup because I don’t believe in convention when it comes to beauty and I don’t believe makeup is there to make someone pretty. There will never be an age that it’s acceptable for them to believe they are old enough to wish they looked different so I have never introduced “beauty products” that way. Makeup and clothing and hair are there to have fun along the way while YOU make yourself whatever you want to be.

We paint faces at our house. We create new and different versions of ourself. We think beauty comes from your heart and guts, not from the color of your hair or the size of your lips. I will teach my girls that a perfectly contoured face will never make up for a lack of compassion or having a soft heart just as having cruella de vil hair won’t make you callused or mean. You can’t hide “ugly” with red lips and lashes and you can’t camouflage beautiful by painting yourself like a zombie. In our house we believe in color, we believe in mermaid makeup and we believe that hair is only “wild” if your heart is wild too. We wear black and we’re happy. We love glitter. We have knots (and sometimes pink) in our hair and love in our hearts and no makeup, dye, ink or outfit can change how truly beautiful that is.

anonymous asked:

Lol just saw someone call cp racist slavery fetish porn so I guess it's time to feel like shit for enjoying something (even though their accusations are unfounded and they probably never went near a cp book)

we’ve all been there, don’t let them make you feel bad💕when I first joined the fanbase I was quite thrown off by all the discourse because people make some HARSH claims off of half truths or outright inaccuracies and I had never really been in a fandom with such heavy topics of discourse - it made me feel bad!! but I took a step back and evaluated and said “mmm, I get it, but I’m not stupid, I’m not a bad reader, and I feel pretty confident about the intentions of this series and these anti-claims just aren’t it”

something that’s helped me to stop being offended by those posts is understanding that if I had absolutely no context for understanding the series and I was told it’s about a black slave falling in love with his white slave owner, THAT WOULD GROSS ME OUT TOO. very VERY often, the majority of their disgust is coming from a misunderstanding, and so is their unwillingness to listen - it’s unfortunate, but understandable and just not worth the effort of explaining tbh. it’s just not worth the emotional labor!!

that only really helps with feeling bad though - the posts are still annoying hahaha

hope you feel better though - the block button is your best friend!!!

uh, heh, I uh. I forgot to wear green today. Which wouldn’t really be much of a thing, I normally wear greenish/bluish stuff, but I was getting dressed and happened to find a red shirt, and then I had some red socks, and well. i’m super black-and-red-themed today, very goth, sort of cute ok whatever, but like. Very not green.

well, nobody really notices what i wear, and if anyone tries to pinch me I’ll punch them, this is well-established in my personal history. just. ha. 

Look who I bumped into at the reptile store today! The tegu I fell in love with at the reptile show a while back. As soon as his owner recognized me he grinned and shoved this gorgeous boy into my arms, effectively making my week. He’s freshly shed and looking fantastic. And already a lot more friendly (his owner had only had him for a month when I last met them, and the previous owner had not been a good one). He spent like half an hour chilling like this and licking my collar bone as his owner and I chatted.
I’m so happy they live in my town, I was definitely not expecting to run into this little angel again.
kaijutegu this is the little love I told you about.


Rin Kon
Makoto Kinomiya
Gou Hiwatari

These are the canon children of Rei, Takao/Tyson and Kai from Beyblade, as I’m sure you already know.

I needed them for another photoset but I thought you guys might want to see them on their own :D
Just so you know I scanned the manga pages where they appear, then traced the outlines and coloured the whole thing. I had to modify some things like noses, hair an other details to make it look like a screenshot.
Since they were in black and white I kinda.. used their fathers’ colour palettes. I did not dare trying anything funny :D as for Gou’s face paintings they’re always red in fanarts o.O maybe it’s the official colour, I don’t know. But they look cool so I left them red xD

Reaction to losing

Saw this headcanon … AND WROTE IT ;D I’m so happy to contribute stuff to the very amazing Hawksilver Fandom <3

Clint growled, while Pietro laughed. The archer was biting his bottom lip in concentration, trying to stay on the street the way Pietro did, but he failed again and again and it made him all grumpy and frustrated. The race wasn’t fair anyway, since Pietro was a mutant and all. He could react quicker than any other person on the planet and could therefore somehow foresee things and adjust to them. The white haired man’s fingers were moving so quickly, Clint couldn’t even see them when he glanced down on his boyfriend’s controler.

He tried to suprise him with a red shell, but Pietro chuckled again and moved Mario out of the way almost elegantly. The next second Clint’s half of the TV screen turned black.

“Come on!!” Clint bellowed at the ink the fish Pietro had still had “up his sleeve” spread all over his screen, making him drive Yoshi’s cart almost blindly for the rest of the route. 

“Oh no,” Pietro grinned, pushing his elbow into Clint’s side. “What happened? Did you not see that coming?”

Clint was too focused on the game to do more than hiss at his boyfriend. He realized he was driving against a wall, when the screen slowly revealed Yoshi again.

A weird melody rang through the living-room of the apartment Clint owned in New York, when Mario drove over the finish line as the winner. Pietro threw his arms in the air so quickly, he almost threw the controler into the kitchen. “Yeeeesss!!!! And again Pietro Maximoff makes Clint Barton look as old as he is! Fifth victory in one day!!”

Clint’s shoulders slumped down, a grumpy look on his face, his controler useless in his lab. That had seriously been his worst defeat in his history with Mario Kart. He was the best driver among the Avengers, but he had to admit Pietro was unbeatable in the game.

“I’m not that old,” Clint mumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Almost sympathetically Pietro put a hand on Clint’s arm, pinching the skin cheekily. “Of course you are, but I love you anyway!”

With a groan, Clint put his head back into his neck, looking at the ceiling grumpily, arms still crossed in front of his chest. He blew a strand of hair off his forehead and avoided looking at Pietro. Clint’s behaviour forced Pietro to giggle and he tried to soothe his lover by climbing into his lab and poking his chest. “Just look at your reaction to losing, Clint! It’s very childish! That makes you much younger already!”

Amused Clint shot his eyebrows up and looked at Quicksilver’s smug smile. “You are such a little shit, you know that?”

“Heard it once or twice while I was kicking your ass at Mario Kart!” Pietro ducked his head with a big grin after saying that, expecting Clint to react with violence. Clint squinted his eyes mischievously at his boyfriend, weighing his options. He chose his favorite one.

“You are so in for it now!!”

Pietro squealed loudly, when two hands shot forward and ten fingers dug into his sides. A jolt went through his body and his reflexes told him to slip out of the situations as quickly as he could, but Clint was already wrapping his arms around his back and pushed him onto the carpet, using his own weight to keep him pinned. Then his fingers set to work again, scratching up and down Pietros’s sides and ribs, making him laugh uncontrollably.

“Still think I’m old?” Clint asked smugly, focusing on his lover’s most ticklish spot on his sides, keeping him in stitches and laughing wildly underneath him.


“Take it back or I’ll keep you here all day!!”


“Take it back!!!”

Pietro kept giggling for a few seconds, before he couldn’t take it anymore. “OHOHOKAY FIHIHIIHNE!!! YOU’RE NAA-HAHAHAHT OHOHOHOHLD!!!”

Satisfied, Clint stopped tickling and put his chin on his fists, putting them on Pietro’s chest. “I will be young forever.”

Pietro giggled and ran his hands through his hair, before putting his palms on Clint’s arms. “You don’t say!! Forever??” 

“Don’t make me tickle you again!” Clint threatened, but he looked to lazy to do anything cruel for the next few hours. So Quicksilver softly ran his fingertips up and down Clint’s biceps, smiling at the closeness of his lover.

The eyes of the archer were set on his face, watching his blue eyes tenderly.

“You are the one with the grey hair anyway,” Clint lulled affectionately, taking one fist away from Pietro’s chest to run it through the fluffly strands of hair.

Pietro hummed, appreciating the touch. He closed a bit of the distance between their faces and smiled. “They are white!”

“Because that makes it so much better,” Clint answered cockily, tilting his head and biting his bottom lip. He pushed his nose against Pietro’s and then they were kissing. Clint’s hand was entangled in Pietro’s hair even more now and the younger man’s hands were rubbing circles over his broad back.

It didn’t matter who won or lost in Mario Kart. All that mattered was they had each other and -

“Ewwwww, boys!!” Wanda whined, when she came out of the kitchen. “You are not alone in here!”

She quickly left for Clint’s room, making a remote hit Clint in the head with her willpower, before she closed the door. He and her brother just laughed into their kiss, before they turned over. 

Everything was fine for the moment.

Here’s how you fix Ghostbusters

“Make ‘em all dudes again!” some of you will say. You’re reading the wrong post.

“Nothing, it is perfect!” some of you will say. And indeed, it is very good. Holtzman’s slo-mo fight sequence is everything I didn’t know I was waiting for, their outfits were great, their banter was sharp, and there were at least half a dozen honest-to-goodness feminist moments that had me rooting for them. But I’m not here for a feminism that doesn’t value black women and working class work, and Patty was hella undervalued.

Which didn’t need to be the case! Like, not at all!

The easy answer is to make Patty a scientist, but Leslie Jones has been pretty on point about why that’s not necessarily a good solution (read her argument here).  Which doesn’t mean that they couldn’t have had the one non-scientist be a white person, but okay. She’s right that suggesting that only women with doctorates can be superheros is pretty damn elitist and does a lot to equate privilege with power. It’s also unnecessary.

Real talk: Patty as an MTA worker has the potential to be completely brilliant and essential.

If only she’d been written that way.

Here’s how you do it.

Keep reading


so I just had a crazy idea, but its so crazy it makes sense so bear with me, and also @bladekindeyewear i think for some reason youd like to see this so go nuts?

So, the trickster jujupop thingy, that’s a thing that exists right?

hey remember what was inside that thing anyway? Those two halves of it?

doesn’t this look familiar?

Notice how those two rings of Life and Void are intertwined in this picture almost looking itself like an infinite loop? when logic would suggest that they are actually separate rings? since we never see them together?

I just noticed a lot of things can be applied to both of them

The idea of two also being one

the black half of the juju and the void ring

as well as the white half of the juju and the life ring

the fact that they are really one and the same all along

the theories about the ultimate JuJu being an Auryn type thing, as well the Ring of Life and Void actually being one and the same

not to mention their associated each with the cherubs, Calliope has the Life ring currently, and Caliborn got a ring in his claymation as well

Also, you know the whole symbolism for all this things together? with a single  ourobouros being one snake that bites its own tail?

like in a ring shape like this?

so what would happen if you connected the nature of two ringlike ouroubouroses? would they not turn out looking something like this?

and the JuJu pops are even in a circle shape as well

meaning the red lollipop could likely just be a candy coated version of the void ring, and the green lollipop is a candy coated life ring (green for life and red for void because calliop has the life ring and the green juju and because that seems the logical association)

and remember trickster mode? and what it actually did to the players?

supercharging Jane’s Maid of Life role (and thereby making everyone she kissed super lifed) and being able to detect Roxy despite her using her VOID power? with Life taking a precendant because it latched onto Jane

and if that JujU theory where they are all actually peoples souls trapped in objects, then it makes sense that the Ring of Life half of an ultimate JuJu thing would autoconnect with Jane, the Maid of Life, as well as being supportted by the Roxy Soul/Ring of Void half by allowing trickster people to see through the void!

but, even if they end up not actually being the same thing (not that this does not explain at all what the white cursor is still so thats a huge hole) its still a nice symbolic connection

so yeah figured i get out one last crazy idea before the end

Two Views of a Cadaver Room

by Sylvia Plath


The day she visited the dissecting room
They had four men laid out, black as burnt turkey,
Already half unstrung. A vinegary fume
Of the death vats clung to them;
The white-smocked boys started working.
The head of his cadaver had caved in,
And she could scarcely make out anything
In that rubble of skull plates and old leather.
A sallow piece of string held it together.
In their jars the snail-nosed babies moon and glow.
He hands her the cut-out heart like a cracked heirloom.


In Brueghel’s panorama of smoke and slaughter
Two people only are blind to the carrion army:
He, afloat in the sea of her blue satin
Skirts, sings in the direction
Of her bare shoulder, while she bends,
Fingering a leaflet of music, over him,
Both of them deaf to the fiddle in the hands
Of the death’s-head shadowing their song.
These Flemish lovers flourish; not for long.

Yet desolation, stalled in paint, spares the little country
Foolish, delicate, in the lower right hand corner.

Dear White People

When you call me “sassy” I don’t find it cute. I don’t find it funny and I don’t find it accurate. If anything it makes me lose respect for you for forcing me to be in the position of an “angry black person” because you don’t respond or take me seriously when I’m being passive and polite. For centuries black people have had to justify their behavior and defend their attitude from whites who want to brand them as crazy, irrational, emotionally unstable half citizens, and that dates back to slavery when the masters wouldn’t take kindly to slaves who spoke back or defended themselves. Those slaves were viewed as “uppity” and speaking out of turn, and for centuries our black ancestors had their independence beaten out of them so that they’d become submissive. We’ve had to learn what it means to be black and what it means to be white and how to exist in both worlds. Any time we step out of bounds to speak out on what we feel needs to be addressed people are quick to point and say we are loud, irrational, crazy, ungrateful, ignorant, and SASSY. Doing so devalues our existence and makes everything we speak on irrelevant, because how can sassy, irrational people know what they’re talking about? Sassy is the new Uppity. By labeling me as such you are not only insulting me on a surface level, but you are exercising your privilege to deny my essence and suppress my power and that is, on a deeper level, racist. Call it farfetched. Call it overreacting. Or just go ahead and say that I’m being sassy and have yourselves a good day.

Sherlock stares at the page in front of him. The clean, cool white of the paper. The thin, crisp blue lines. The shallow indentations that echo the writing on the previous page. The tiny splotch of ink where it had bled through from his notes on yesterday’s case. The words Christmas list scrawled in the spidery, black strokes of his own hand.

John has requested a list, so Sherlock is determined to give him one. What he’s going to put on that list, however, is a mystery he’s not sure even he can solve. When John had first asked what he wanted for Christmas, Sherlock had merely shrugged because the lie was preferable to the truth. He knows exactly what he wants, but he also knows that he can’t have it. And now somehow he is expected to come up with not just one gift idea but a multitude of them, an entire army of lies, a giant swarm of little half-truths and kind-ofs and not-quites that buzz around the edges of the things he really wants.

Which are:

John’s hand in his, their palms warm against each other, their fingers twined together until they can’t tell whose are whose, as they run through the streets of London chasing murderers and thieves, chasing terror and thrills, chasing adventure, chasing fun, chasing life.

John’s scent permanently woven into the very fabric of their flat, soaked into the wallpaper and the sofa and the towels and sheets, seeped into every soft surface until John’s presence in their home is as indelible as ink so that ages and ages hence, residents of this flat will know that John Watson was once a part of Sherlock Holmes’ life.

John’s lips, against his own as they kiss each other breathless, along his jaw right after he shaves, down his neck when their adrenaline is high. Telling him he’s clever at a crime scene, crying out in pleasure in his bed, whispering sweet words in the darkness. John’s strong arms wrapped around him as they sleep. John’s hair tickling his nose when he wakes in the morning. John’s feet stepping on his toes as they dance in the sitting room. John’s knees astride his hips. John’s eyes only on him. John’s chest. John’s belly. John’s thighs and back and ears and throat.

John’s smiles. His laughter. His joy. His sorrow. His anger. His fear. His respect. His trust. His friendship. His love.


Sherlock looks down, surprised to find that he’s actually written this list out. It’s there on paper for the world to see, black swirls of ink revealing the innermost desire of Sherlock’s heart, unveiling the carefully-kept secret that he really does have one after all. He puts down his pen and scrubs his hands through his hair in frustration. John is all he wants, and no amount of new books or socks or scarves or test tubes will ever make up for the fact that Sherlock can’t have him, can’t even ask.

So he tears out the page and crumples it up, a fresh page staring back at him as he tries to come up with something else. John wants a list, so Sherlock is going to give him one. Even if he can’t have John for himself, he can at least do things that make John happy. Picking up the pen again, he touches it to the page, unsure of what to write, but determined to make his hand move until it spells out something acceptable. Thinking and thinking and thinking, he eventually manages to bend his fingers to his will, making a short list of things he can pretend to enjoy, things he’ll like not even half as much as what he really wants but that will make John happy to give him.

It will have to do.

His second list complete, he crosses the room and throws the first one in the bin. He never sees where it lands, never knows that it comes to rest atop another ball of crinkled paper, a crumpled page covered in John’s untidy scrawl, a discarded list of his own that simply says:


25 days of fic-mas, day 9: making a Christmas list