and these characters genuinely meant more to me than i can say

post-emoji movie Trauma

WARNING: the following text contains spoilers and can be considered disturbing to some readers. especially my brain, because it’s leaking out my ears after typing this.

This is the first movie ever I’ve gone to see on opening night. And let me just say that, for the record, I’m glad I went to watch with friends. Without them, I would have most likely calmly exited the room, climbed up to the roof, and dived straight off.

Keep reading

From now on I want to narrate every Sherlock interview as if I'm Lemony Snicket

“If we pull this off, it’ll be television history!” Amanda said, gleefully. Amanda should not have said this, and she certainly should not have said it gleefully. What Amanda should’ve said instead is “This season includes a very talented actress who will surely impress you all.” However poor Amanda did not say this. And several months later she certainly regretted her mistake.

~

Sue’s eyes widened in shock. They did not widen in shock because Amanda had spoiled the plot of the show, or because Amanda had just hinted at what may happen in the upcoming season, but rather because Amanda had just told a massive, whopping, great big lie. And Sue was shocked.

~

“Love conquers all,” Benedict smiled sappily. Benedict did not, of course, mean “Sherlock’s romantic love of another person and their love of him conquers all their problems this season,” but rather, “In my opinion Sherlock Holmes and John Watson have been in love for over a century and I believe it is only right that they should be allowed to love each other and that I should kiss Martin.”

~

Steven hid his head in his hands. Steven did this because he thought Benedict was being cheesy and romantic, however it seemed to the audience like he did this because Ben had just given away a major point of the plot. Steven should be more careful about how his body language portrays his feelings.

~

Mark looked like he wanted to kill Benedict. This was not unusual, however. Mark always looked like he wanted to kill Benedict. And Steven. And everyone, in fact. Mark liked to think about murder.

~

“This is the best season yet,” Steven said. He was lying. I know he was lying because in reality it was filled with plot holes and glowing pictures and boys who eat out of dog bowls. But I’m not a rude person, so I left Steven to his ignorance.

~

“Who you really are, it doesn’t matter,” Mark typed. Mark should not have typed this. In fact, I wanted to hit Mark with a big stick and tell him ‘who you are REALLY matters’ but Mark would not have listened. Mark thinks he is smarter than me. He is clearly not. But who he is still matters.

~

“I’ll die if Johnlock doesn’t happen,” a TJLCer sobbed as she typed on her laptop. “RIP,” Mark replied. He did not do this to be funny. He did this because he can be a massive twat sometimes. This was one of those times. 


 ~ 


 "I don’t know, I don’t know, I’m just in it!” Martin squeaked. He was not trying to hide a secret, as many believed. Martin was just genuinely baffled by the new season. And by baffled I mean ‘had no idea what the plot was, what the point was, what his character was suppose to be doing and why he didn’t get to kiss Benedict.’

Not Your Average Zutara Fic Rec

So I’ve gone through a LOT of Zutara fanfiction, probably too much if I’m being honest, and finding good fics can be really hard. When looking up fic rec lists I’ve noticed that a lot of the lists are just the same select fanfictions recommended over and over (We get it, everyone and their mother loves ‘His Majesty Prefers Blue’ and ‘Stormbenders’ [I never finished HMPB, sue me]). 

So this list is for all of you who are in my shoes and can’t seem to find anything besides the same ten or fifteen stories recommended and are desperate for something new. Everything listed is complete! (If I listed the incompletes/abandoned stories I’d have a lot more chaptered stories listed… RIP ‘The Confrontational Approach’…) 

I have a lot of bookmarked stories that I have yet to read and am in the middle of (Almost caught up on @firelordandlady ‘s ‘Say Anything’!), so I’ll try to update this when I finish something I think deserves a recommendation. 

Chaptered

In the Same Candlelight by Like a Dove

In a world where there is no war, Zuko and Katara spend their summers together. Growing up is messy, embarrassing, and at times sad, but they think it might be okay because they have each other. Edited summary.

I know. I KNOW. I LITERALLY JUST SAID I WASN’T GOING TO RECOMMEND FANFICS THAT ARE ON EVERYONE’S LIST. But I NEED to mention this one. I spent so long not interested in this fic. I don’t like drastic AU’s, or modern AU’s. My taste is strictly canon divergence, so I didn’t think I would like this. I WAS SO WRONG. Trust me, if you are like me and don’t like big AU’s, read this anyway. I promise, you won’t be disappointed. Characterization is still so spot on, even with such a different take. Aang is precious. There is nothing but fluff, fluff, and fluff. It will melt you. You will probably die and your spirit will rise up smiling and beaming out rainbows and sunshine. That’s what happened to me. 

Lilacs and Lily Pads by sadladybug

A tale of clumsy courtship and calamitous court weddings, featuring awkward family encounters, floral mishaps, cultural complications, and good old fashioned fluff and conflict. Takes place in the five years following war’s end. For Zutara Week 2016. A prequel to Bones.

Clothe Me in Seasons, Dress Me in Snow is a very commonly recommended Zutara fic (And for good reason, I shed many tears reading it). But this two-shot (A companion to Bones, a smut one shot) by the same author is really underrated and beautifully written. It follows Zuko and Katara as they try to plan their wedding, as well as shows two scenes from before they got engaged that solidified the relationship to be one they knew would last. Just really well done overall and very very sweet. 

EDIT: I talked with the author and apparently it isn’t finished?? But they are apparently working on the next chapters so yay!! And each chapter is independent so it doesn’t feel unfinished.  

The Slow Path by Tazainian Devil

Eight years after the fall of Ozai, Aang returns to the friends he left behind - Taang, Zutara, Sukka

This is technically a Taang fic, and if I’m being honest I kind of just skimmed through the non-zutara chapters, but the Zutara storyline was good enough that I think it’s definitely worth the read. And the overall plot has a great premise. Be warned, it has a sequel that was never finished. 

Another Word For Alchemy by FanPanda13

Five years have passed since the Avatar defeated Fire Lord Ozai, and the members of the Gaang have all gone in their own direction. But when Aang invites them all to a Peace Summit at the North Pole and tells them of his new project, for which he will need their support, the group comes together again for adventure, fun and romance. AU. Zutara. COMPLETE.

So this fic is crazy for me. At first, it started as just really good natured fluff. The writing wasn’t anything fantastic (Although I loved how it broke the 4th wall and didn’t take itself seriously), and there were some definite OOC moments. But I had so much FUN with it. The plot (while definitely not the focus as everyone is more concerned about when Zuko and Katara will get together) was interesting, and there were some really sweet moments. It was also HILARIOUS and I had multiple moments where I genuinely laughed out loud. But then about five chapters before the end, the quality SKY ROCKETED. As the plot and mystery come together, the characters all come together in a moment that truly feels like it came from the show. Even the writing quality increases by a lot and I was genuinely shocked and impressed. Definitely recommend. 

Kyoshi Hold ‘Em by cupid-painted-blind

When a blizzard shuts down the fourth annual Peace Summit, the group has to find some way to pass the time. /Zutara, Taang, Jet/Mai, Jet/Everyone, Sukka

If you’re looking for a good crack fic, look no further. It’s post war and utter nonsense. Jet is alive for some reason??? No one questions it and he’s shipped with pretty much everyone. It’s funny, it’s decently written, there are drinking and sexy time shenanigans, and overall just lighthearted. Also, it does a great job of being a crack fic without crossing the line and becoming unfunny and just a trash fic. A lot struggle to find the balance and resort to going over the top and ridiculous, but this one does a really good job. 

Come With Me by Steamboat Ghost

Coauthored by fuzzytomato. Troubled over his newly restored honor, Zuko finds solace in the familiar guise of the Blue Spirit. In a chance meeting with the Painted Lady, a friendship is forged as the two heroes seek to help the Fire Nation’s neglected.

I’ll admit it: I’ve never gotten into Blutara fanfictions. I only read the first couple chapters of HMPB and dropped it after the tree scene. I don’t know, it felt really OOC for me and I may go back and read it again just because EVERYONE raves about it, but IDK. I’ve never been a huge Blutara fan because while I love the concept, I’d much rather see the Painted Lady and the Blue Spirit come together as equals. Most fics present Zuko behind his mask to Katara, and it feels imbalanced. There aren’t a lot of stories where we see their alter persona’s come together even though that’s the entire point of the parallel between the two. Insert this fic. I only wish there was a sequel dealing with Zuko in the Gaang after these events. Hey, a girl can dream. 

A Zutara Story Anastasia by LastSunset

Katara, the only suviving waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe, joins two con men, Zuko and Iroh, while a fearful admiral chases for her death. A Zutara Story. Based on the movie Anastasia.

So this isn’t so much a retelling of Anastasia but with Katara and Zuko as it is a fanfic version of the movie but with the characters names and world changed. It takes a lot of lines from the movie. But WHO CARES? It’s Anastasia and Zutara!!! What more do you need??? 

Oneshot

this burden you bear by cowlicklesschick

Word travels, and war stories will be told round campfires and on freighter ships until every person in the world knows what Master Katara did for the new Fire Lord. She fights the burning in her throat at the thought of people knowing why she had to heal him in the first place. Post-war Zutara.

This is an angst-with-a-happy-ending, which I say is the absolute BEST type of angst. Katara deals with the guilt of what Zuko did for her as the Fire Nation celebrates what she did to save his life during the Agni Kai. The two come together beautifully while struggling to see the feelings they both share. Really well written and like I said, it has a happy ending, which we all need. 

The Best of Me by Laririn-Shadow

The night before his eighteenth birthday Zuko wraps a bandage around his left wrist. He has a country to run and no time for frivolous things. It will make everything easier if he waits. Zutara Soulmates AU

Soulmate AU’s usually aren’t my thing (With the glaring exception of one Until Dawn Soulmate AU, but that’s besides the point), but I really enjoyed this oneshot. It isn’t sweeping or insanely romantic and the reveal isn’t “OMG I’VE LOVED YOU THIS WHOLE TIME” But it’s a subtle love that grows, which I really like.  

my salvation, he’s not anything by sarsaparillia

Let’s run away and start another war. — Zuko/Katara.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ What can I say? I love the ‘Let’s run away together, consequences be damned’ trope. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The Time is Ripe by Casa Circe

ZUTARA WEEK 2012 Day Seven: Seasons. There are many stages that a heart goes through before it can finally be ready for the love it was meant to have. The road is often a rocky one but eventually, it leads you home.

A oneshot for the Zutara Week 2012 prompt ‘Seasons’. Not too much to say about it. Short, sweet, and well written. What more do you need? 

Serendipity by Boriqua-chan

Iroh goes hunting for tea leaves and finds something…interesting. /Zutara week, day 1/

Secret relationships! Fluff! Happiness! And all from Uncle Iroh’s perspective!! Everything I love in one great oneshot! 

Too Close for Comfort also by Casa Circe

ZUTARA WEEK 2010 Day Three: Pain. After watching “The Ember Island Players”, no one is in the mood for teasing. But a little slip of the tongue leads to the painful realization that the play was more accurate than they were willing to admit.

There are two Zutara plots/tropes that I am a complete and utter SLUT for. The first is the ‘Let’s talk about that EIP show’ trope. This is one of my favorites. 

The Color of Truth is Red by Mrs. Pettyfer

Written for Zutara Week prompt “awkward.” Zuko and Katara discuss the Ember Island Players.

Another post EIP oneshot

Enlightenment by Blade Quill

Choices are made on the day of Zuko’s coronation, and sometimes, enlightenment is just the simple truth at hand. Zutara. AU of the final moments of the Book 3 Finale

The OTHER plot/trope I’m a slut for is finale rewrites. LET ME SEE THEM COME TOGETHER AFTER HE TAKES LIGHTNING FOR HER. Ugh, I love it. 

Framework by profoundlycan

What if in “Sozin’s Comet” Katara had come into the room instead of Mai? Zuko/Katara. Prequel to Schema.

 Another finale rewrite! Let’s just get Mai out of the picture here… 

Lightning Shocks the Heart by drunkzutarafeels

Why do our hearts remain dormant until a climactic moment makes time stand still?

And here’s yet another finale rewrite. There is a really popular Zutara gifset that someone animated of the Agni Kai ‘Thank you’ scene, but Katara kisses Zuko after she hugs him. This is the fanfiction equivalent of that gif set. 

Sunrise by lewilder

The days go on and on, and even if she feels more comfort from the moon, Katara learns to cherish the promise of each new sunrise. Zutara AU, largely finale-centric. Oneshot.

LAST FINALE AU I PROMISE. Really sweet, starts right after The Southern Raiders and goes past canon. 

all the ghosts we cannot kill (we learn to love) by raisindeatre

Zuko and Katara; the moments we didn’t see. Or: Maybe we are all somebody’s ghost. And maybe sometimes we can be more than that.

“…My quarrel has only ever been with you, Zuko,” she says, his name sharp on her tongue. “This has only ever been about me and you.”

“You’re wrong,” he rasps, his voice rough in the late afternoon sunlight that falls around them, tangles them in golden nets. “This has only ever been about me and the Avatar. Not you and me. What we hold between us has nothing to do with it.”

This is a really beautiful one-shot that follows a battered, war torn and hardened Zuko and Katara through the scenes we DIDN’T see throughout the entire show. A Zutara must-read.

Drabble Collection/Series

And Other Fairly Stupid Tales by Advocaat

A collection of humorous and crack-tastic oneshots corresponding to the days of Zutara Month

Really great Zutara Month themed drabbles, and it contains the only body swapping plot that I’ve read and really enjoyed. Also the chapters ‘Potential’ and ‘Festival’ are some of my all time favorites. 

Zuko Was No Coward by hootowl

Zuko was many things, but a coward he was not. A collection of Zutara100 prompts. Title may change.

Definitely some heartbreakers and angsty drabbles in here, but all well written and thoroughly enjoyable. If you read ANYTHING from this list, read chapter two of this drabble collection. I MELTED when I read it. It’s perfection. Aunt Wu’s prediction has always been a plotline I’ve loved in Zutara fanfiction, and this one just does it PERFECTLY. 

Zutara Week 2012 by ichilover3

A collection of oneshots inspired by the prompts for Zutara Week

Not much more to say. The first, third, and fourth prompts are my favorite from this series. 

Zutara Week 2015 by bianca_anna

It started at a tea shop and ended with forever. My entries for Zutara Week 2015. I hope you enjoy them.

Oh my GOODNESS. So they’re Zutara Week prompts, but all set in the same universe. The Zutara!Family depicted in these drabbles has become my headcanon. I’ve seen many a Zutara family, but this one is by far my FAVORITE. This is now my official family for them. I want the very last chapter fully animated because it’s so good and epic and I want more of this families adventures. 

the bayard is the paladin is the lion: a season 3 prediction

Alternatively titled: Watch This Child Jeopardize Her GPA in Real Time As She Ignores Her Midterms to Write Yet Another Fucking Meta

The lovely @littleblackchats already wrote an awesome post about the symbolism of the bayards for each of the characters in Voltron. But I was wondering: could we take it a step further and use the weapons - and what they say symbolically about the paladins wielding them - to make an informed guess about who’s going to end up in what lion next season?

(even if the answer to that question is no, i’m already writing this so whatever)

Since Allura, Keith, and Lance are the most likely to be swapped into new lions (or, in Allura’s case, to be put into a lion for the first time), I thought it’d be cool to take a look at what the weapons each of them wields says about their personalities, and whether that can give us hints as to who’s gonna be the Black Paladin next season while Shiro’s gone.

Alright, so in episode 1, Allura tells us that a lion’s quintessence is mirrored in its paladin, and that the paladin shapes the bayard. So lion = paladin = bayard. The lion and paladin should be similar in personalty, and the bayard should be compatible to the paladin’s style of fighting and personality as well. This is shown really well in Hunk and Pidge: Pidge’s weapon is small (like her), electric (reflecting her interest in computers), and made for precision (Pidge is more interested in finding clever solutions than just brute-forcing problems), while Hunk’s is big (just like him), long-range (reflecting his wish to stay distanced from conflict), and packs a punch (Hunk is the strongest character on the team, after all).

So the weapons tell us something about the personalities of the ones using them. But what can their respective weapons tell us about Keith, Lance, and Allura?

Keep reading

the spy au that @philosophium ordered !!


Andrew slips through a slit in the crowd, brushing through the sleek trains of expensive gowns, rich wool suits jackets catching on his own. He’s on his second flute of champagne, and the tartness keeps him focused. His attention is on the flavour and the rim of the glass and the warp of faces through it. His earpiece crackles and whispers.

He can see his mark on the opposite side of the room, surrounded by servers and liars and pretty things. One of them is all three, Andrew can tell: a waiter’s vest, a seam of over-applied foundation, and bright blue eyes.

He’s distracting, flighty, a rubber band pulled all the way back. He looks like the memory of a case file, and a name occurs to Andrew one second before Kevin hisses it into his ear.

“It’s fuckin’ Charlie Pilot. Don’t engage, Minyard, we’re not here for him.”

Andrew doesn’t make any effort to reply, just takes another pull of champagne. He’s not really watching the troupes of entertainers or the clockwork security or the velvet and silk blooming under bowing chandeliers. He’s not even watching the man he’s either going to rob or kill, who’s laughing and weedy, red in the face from the alcohol. He’s stuck on Pilot –  next to his target, holding a heavily stocked tray of appetizers, his expression pleasant and empty.

He’ll be an irritant to what should be a straightforward plan, if he keeps hovering. Andrew takes a loaded step forward and the voice in his ear complains.

“Don’t even think about moving in until Pilot leaves. He’s probably doing reconnaissance for Matt. I bet he doesn’t even know about the file.”

Andrew watches Pilot’s face tick, the way he blinks like he’s on a timer, the way he’s worrying the inside of his cheek with his teeth.

“I bet he does,” Andrew murmurs, and he drains the last of the champagne. He plucks his tie pin away from the fabric and drops it in the empty glass, leaving it on a passing tray.

“What— what the fuck Minyard, we’ve lost visuals. Do you hear me? Andrew? Andrew?”

Andrew weaves through the rest of the golden crowd, ignoring the buzz of Kevin’s reprimands in his ear. He finds a new spot on the outskirts of the crowd where Pilot has installed himself.

“Do you know how fucking expensive those cameras are? You’re such a piece of shit operative,” Kevin says. “When you inevitably come back without the intelligence and without our equipment, it’s costing us to keep you around, do you realize that?”

Andrew’s more focused on the way Pilot’s shoulders are turning to face him, the slim line of his tailored pants, that eyelash-thick smudge of un-blended make up.

“Shrimp?” Pilot offers, swaying the tray in his direction.

“No,” Andrew says, but he stays uncomfortably near, feeling along the edges of his boundaries without finding any seams. Pilot’s composure is still and reserved as a frost-ravaged garden.

“Have a good evening then,” Pilot says graciously, turning back towards the host that Andrew should be sizing up but hasn’t even looked at. He glances at him for a sliver of a moment, finds himself uninterested, and looks back at Pilot.

Andrew catches him suddenly by the arm, but relaxes his grip just as quickly, caught off guard by his own impulsivity. His own disguise is just an invitation and sun bleached hair; he isn’t playing a character like Pilot is. He’s neutral for a living, but Pilot is a new weight on his scale, unbalancing him so that he can’t quite settle at zero.

When their eyes meet, the polite, curious waiter snips out of existence. Charlie Pilot stares at Andrew, with eyes like the bluest part of a fire.

“There’s a conflict of interest,” he tells Andrew calmly. “And your interest will lose.”

“I’m not interested in anything,” Andrew says broadly.

“Hm,” Pilot says, unconvinced. “You’re lying.”

“I don’t lie,” Andrew says. He’s always saying it; it’s a novelty that employers enjoy and enemies challenge, amused.

Pilot raises his jaw, mouth twitching. “No, you wouldn’t, would you.” His eyes flicker to the side of Andrew’s face, where Kevin is breathing furiously through his earpiece, then down to the grip he still has on his forearm. He lowers his tray down until the rough edge is pressed to the root of Andrew’s hand threateningly. “You’ll want to let me go, Andrew, or you’re going to end up needing a longer armband.”

Andrew feels genuine surprise squeeze his fingers around Pilot’s wrist. He hadn’t noticed the black fabric extending a whiff beyond his crisp white sleeve. He lets go, and Pilot tucks his shoulders back, satisfied. His hair is too dark to match his freckles, Andrew notes quietly. It is, perhaps, what the make up was meant to cover up.

“You are not going to win, Charlie,” Andrew says. “We’re the more capable team.”

Pilot smiles indulgently. “‘Charlie’,” he repeats, mouth curling around the name. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been Charlie Pilot.” He jostles his tray from one hand to another, and loosens his collar with his freed hand. “And I don’t think you understand how much farther ahead we are than you. If you’re looking for information, we already have it. If you’re trying to find the connections this place has to the Yakuza, we’re the ones undoing them.”

“Who’s we? I don’t remember seeing anything about loyalty in your case file. You’re just a runner.”

Pilot looks briefly bothered by this, and he juts his chin again. “I’m loyal to whoever’s doing the work that needs to be done.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Who are you?”

He looks down, at Andrew’s empty hands, at the hip where he’s hiding his gun. His expression is warped and sad when he looks up, like the real filling in his strange costume is finally oozing out.

“You can call me Neil,” he says, and drops the whole tray of food so that it clatters and rolls into the host’s feet. There are gasps and yelps, partygoers dodging and stooping to catch the runaway platter. Andrew looks impulsively down to track its progress, and when he looks sharply back up into the knot of activity, Neil is gone. Of course he is.

He doesn’t have time to think about where he might have disappeared to, just steps neatly into the opportunity that’s been afforded to him. He uses the distraction as a doorway directly into the offices behind the coddled host.

Kevin is asking repeatedly for updates, and Andrew fishes the earpiece out and tucks it into his breast pocket. He likes to be alone for this part, when the most important door closes behind him and everything makes as much sense as a ticking clock.

He keeps thinking of Neil’s reaction to ‘runner’, of the vulnerability trussed up in his persona. He finds himself sick to his stomach wanting to know what his real hair colour is.

He tries every door in the polished row of them, finding all of them locked. He picks the lock on the door farthest from the burble of the ballroom behind him, and cracks into what looks like a room built for business arrangements and drinking. There’s a snifter next to a half dozen tumblers on a cart along the wall, and extensive cabinets under the desk.

He feels his way along the underside of the desk, and opens each drawer, idealistically left unlocked and unprotected. He finds useless information and shady information and heaps of anonymous, unlabeled tapes.

He finds the safe in the floor, facing up patiently under a wingback chair and a panel of floorboard. He stoops so that he’s face to face with it, shrugs his jacket off like a dead skin onto the floor, and puts the heart of a stethoscope to the face of the safe.

He’s sweating, spread out surreptitiously on the floor, but the safe is flimsy. It cracks in under an hour, the party wilting two rooms over, pressure taking him by the hair. Andrew flicks the door open impatiently, unwinding the stethoscope from around his neck.

It’s filled top to bottom with paper, and he reaches for the first file, carding his fingers through the spill of sheets.

Got you, it says. Over and over again, in unassuming little typescript. And on the next page, got you.

Andrew’s fingers flex. The next file is the same, and the next. A million taunting, twirling repetitions: got you. Got this. Got here first.

The safe was already cracked. The list of names was already stolen. Neil’s face winks and swarms when he closes his eyes, furious. If you’re looking for information, we already have it.

He roots around for the bud in his pocket and pops it back into his ear. He leans back, splayed away from the spill from the safe, the stacks of failure. He enunciates clearly into the microphone sewn into his collar.

“We have to find Neil.”

Keep reading

Ok I don’t have anyone to talk to right now, I just had to be socially trans in person for an hour while signing legal forms, and I’m strung out and tired. SO I’M GOING TO RANT ABOUT CONSTRUCTED LANGUAGES AND MAGICAL SCRIPTS.

Look, I get it. You want your conlang/magic script to look mystical, cryptic, special. You want it to look different than any other language while still looking like a language people write in. If you’re a spiritual person or magic-user this may even be a language you’re channeling and that you believe to be ancient in nature or otherwise pre-existing. But 95% of conlangs and magical scripts look totally fake and made-up, and this is not a judgment I’m casting on their actual grammatical structure or language theory or the languages they were based on. The thing that makes a language look like one people ever actually wrote in for hundreds of years, that makes it look like the letters/characters are all from the same language, is that it looks like a language that’s been written in whatever tools you are claiming or feel like it was traditionally written in.

Let’s take cuneiform:

Looks super-neat, right? Man, who’d ever think of having those wedges in an alphabet! It’s totally different than most modern languages out there and very distinctive, and the wedges are consistent across the letters, so it makes them all look like they’re from the same alphabet. This wasn’t just arbitrarily designed as a font style. There is a reason for this!

Cuneiform writing was pressed into wet clay with these shaped bits and that’s why it looks like that. It got stamped with wedges. That’s how (this type of) writing was done at the time. It’s a technological solution and that’s what makes the lettering get that peculiar stylization. You’ll get variants based on craftsmanship and tools, but basically the method is the same across various implementations. Once someone tried to write that in pencil, you could imagine it’d look different, and you’d see evidence of people’s hand-motion between strokes, becoming more of a tilt between letters.

For instance, English looks like it does, even in tumblr’s sans-serif fonts, because it can be constructed with a pen. When it gets fancy with a variable-width pressure-sensitive pen nib, you can get more complex and flowy, but notice the flow and arc still go with the movements natural for a hand to make:

Originally posted by heaven-knows-im-miserable-n0w

Those little trails between letters exist today because nib pens were drippy and left ink trails. The written language adapted to the tools to incorporate the trails and still make it look legible, and that’s why we have cursive writing at all. This is a simplified history but it’s basically there to make you think about the letter shapes in various traditional ways of writing in English and why it looks like it does instead of like cuneiform.

Which brings me to conlangs. If you want your brand new ancient-looking language to truly look like people have used it for eons, write it out with the tools you think those people would have used, and keep adapting the letters if you find that, say, a brush or nib pen can’t construct the weird arcs and whirls you’ve designed the language to have. Languages by and large are made to be convenient to write. If you don’t know how to write kanji, Chinese words probably look complex and arbitrary to you. But their shapes are logical when you see them written with a brush:

So if you have some arcane-looking swooshy script but it still looks kind of fake, think about where the weight should really be. It should be where the brush presses down heavier and the trailing marks are where the brush lifts up (and usually leaves the paper and ends the stroke). Where the stroke is wide on one end is where the brush initially met the paper. Above, you can see how one swish immediately flows into another, the strokes are like arrows leading across the page when you understand how they’re created. Pick up a brush and figure out an actual stroke order for your symbol. If logically the stroke seems like it’d leave someone’s hand smearing it trying to follow its arc, then logically that symbol would eventually get redesigned if it were in an actual language. Someone would figure out a better way to write it and everyone would adopt that way over time.

So practice writing your language with different tools. Consider a calligraphy course or even just a kit with a guidebook (or youtube training videos!). Written language is a tool that people use, magical as it can be. And if you’re using it for magical purposes such as woodburning it into tools or painting it onto things or writing it onto paper, consider that your symbols will change a bit according to the tools, just like with mundane languages. A wedge-shaped wood burner will get you something a bit closer to cuneiform. A brush will get you something flowy and not super-precise. Pencil will not leave ink trails and will get you something more technical and practical. Your written language logically should shift for that and adapt like a proper tool. And if you do that right, if you really use it, then it will look much more genuine because it will have experienced an actual evolution of form adapting to the physical tools it’s been worked with via.

And if you’re not using it for magic but are just using it for a fantasy setting where people use it for magic in the story, all the above would still apply to them.

Even with just one symbol not meant to be in a greater language, think about the tool you’re creating it with. It’s hard to make a realistic brush-style symbol in pencil. Use the tool that fits the symbol and you’ll produce something much more genuine-looking.

That’s it! I’m not a language expert, this is not meant to be A Real Factual History Of All Language, it’s just a rough primer in How To Make It Look Like A Language Is Actually Written With. It’s not meant to be a critique in whether your magical language is “real” enough or “magical” enough either. It’s simply some pointers in how to make a magical/constructed language that’s actually reasonable to write with and suits the tools you’re writing it with and the purposes you mean it for. Hundreds of years of written language evolution is hard to replace, but I believe in you.

NRK livestream: TRANSLATED, HENRIK!

translated by @maksisskambackwards and @linneaxskam and me :) 

Host: Hi, welcome!

Henrik: *introduces himself with a handshake*

Host: You have a really firm handshake.

Henrik: I’ve got a kinda clammy hand, I’m walking around with a double jacket.

Host: Yeah, but you look really cool though.

Henrik: Thanks. Likewise.

Host: Skam is over now.

Henrik: It is.

Host: Fy søren…what are your thoughts on that?

Henrik: Fy søren…Or fy faen?

Host: fy, fy faen… what are your thoughts on that?

Henrik: It’s kinda bittersweet. If you get what I mean. Because it’s something that largely belongs to being young, so it’s fun to be able to go into the adult life finally, because I’m a little older than the rest of the cast. So I feel like I can finally become an adult and start taking some responsibility.

Host: What are you gonna do now that you’re an adult then?

Henrik: I’ll probably start studying and stuff.

Host: Must all grown ups study?

Henrik: Not at all, but in my occupation one really wants to learn techniques and gain some experience.

Keep reading

Cheap Thrills (reader x Bucky Oneshot)

Characters: reader, Natasha, Sam, Clint, Tony, Bucky, OC Mark. 

Summary: A bet within the Avengers becomes a battle of the sexes, with you at the center of it. Who will be victorious and could it somehow help you snag the man of your dreams? 

Song Inspiration: Cheap Thrills by Sia

Warnings: drinking, sexist behavior? Mild violence mentioned, very subtle mention of sexy times. 

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: This was supposed to be a short one, but eh. I’ve been living in the land of heavy angst with You are My Heaven and intense stress in my real life so when this fun, fluffy idea popped up, I ran with it. I’m working on a lot of other stuff so be patient, please! As always, I appreciate your feedback. Love each and every one of you!! 

Masterlist

_________________________________________________________

Originally posted by luvinchris

“Uh uh. No way.”

“It’s true, trust me.”

“You wanna bet?” Clint challenged the redhead across the table from him.

Natasha leaned forward and held his gaze, not an ounce of doubt in her demeanor. “Absolutely.”

It was too early in the morning for this childish banter, you thought from your seated position at the far end of the long kitchen table. You slumped forward, dipping the tea bag in and out of the steaming mug of liquid before you, then setting it on the small saucer beside it. Wrapping your hands around the cup’s warmth, your eyes unfocused as you continued to tune out the blathering of your teammates. The only other person in the room paying them no mind was Bucky, who was slouched in a cozy chair, thoroughly engrossed in a book.

“Now wait a minute,” a third voice joined the argument, “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta level the playing field a little. Nat could do this in her sleep. We need someone a little more…down to earth. How about Y/N?” Sam gestured toward you.

Blinking a few times, you finally broke out of your stupor. “Hey! I was only half listening to your stupidity, but I think I’m offended.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I died a bit when in The Bedroom Scene, Lance took a step back when Keith said he should stop worrying about who flies what and focus on his missions. Like keith my boy I know you are trying to be A Leader here but could you miss the point by another mile? don't blame him though, it isn't exactly his forte to do it.

that scene was very in character and wasn’t meant to solve all of lance’s issues right then and there (lance has been said to have a show spanning arc, after all) because keith doesn’t even know the extent of lance’s insecurities in the first place, since he’s never explained the root of them to anyone, really. we, as viewers, know the extent of it… but no one on the team does. i feel like people forget that tbh… because i’ve seen people shitting on the team, especially keith, for teasing lance and not getting the fact that he deals with a lot of self worth issues. but the thing is, i’ve been over this in previous posts but… they don’t know their teasing is affecting him because of that confident exterior he puts up. they don’t know about his self worth issues because he talks himself up all the time when he’s around people. friends tease each other and that is common knowledge, they are not doing it to be malicious. you can tell for them, it’s all in good fun… we know everyone cares about lance, values him and trusts his abilities… and even though lance most likely knows they aren’t teasing him to intentionally hurt his feelings, it definitely still gets to him… which is why he really really needs to actually talk about this in depth with someone.

we can’t blame the team for not picking up on it because lance masks it extremely well… and we can’t blame keith for not realizing the deeper meaning behind the whole conversation lance had with him in his room. as i’ve already talked about in previous responses and as we all already know, keith is a loner and is shown to not be good at social interaction, comforting people or picking up on things. basically, he’s not that good with stuff that involves other people, in general, because of his lone wolf nature, his past and how closed off he usually is. like you said, it isn’t his forte. so, of course keith misunderstood… of course he didn’t pick up on it… first, because lance hasn’t really let his insecurities show until now, but even in this scene… lance doesn’t explicitly explain why exactly he’s feeling this way. lance knows keith is not good at this stuff because lance, himself, is good at this stuff… because it has been made a point in the show to show us how lance is very helpful to keith when he doesn’t understand things. lance knows keith did not get the point and that is why he did walk away from this interaction feeling a bit better than he did beforehand. he knows that, even though it was poorly executed, keith was trying to reassure him. he knows he was trying to cheer him up when he said “and lance, leave the math to pidge” and that is why he genuinely smiled back at him… 

this scene played out exactly how it should have given how these two are individually, and how their relationship is, at this point in the show. it would have been out of character for lance to voice the full extent and reasons behind his insecurities right away, i think… since lance does seem to try very hard to keep up his confident, happy-go-lucky exterior around others. the progress he has made with starting to somewhat talk about it is realistic and in character. it would have been extremely out of character for keith to be able to pick up on the deeper reason behind lance being worried about being left out… and it would have been extremely out of character if he was able to comfort lance better and reassure him better with words alone, because at this point… keith still isn’t that good at this, especially with words, but he tried and it helped a bit. he then proceeded to give up piloting red after saying “shiro” could pilot black, just so lance didn’t have to be left out and not have a lion. those two scenes are obviously meant to tie in with each other. keith took what lance came to him about to heart and that is a big and important step for keith and his character. it didn’t end up mattering because “shiro” was denied by black, but still. we were able to see that keith was trying to make sure that lance’s worries were not realized.

some people are saying that keith unintentionally made lance’s insecurities worse and lance left his room feeling worse than before… but i don’t think that’s the case… because like i said, lance knows that keith isn’t good at this stuff and he knows he was trying his best. this didn’t resolve his insecurities, but it didn’t make them worse either. they’re going to get worse because lance keeps bottling them up, not because of this interaction. lance left keith’s room genuinely feeling at least a little better, the smile on his face was genuine. the new light in which lance was viewing keith was genuine and special… this interaction opens the way for them to have a BETTER, more personal interaction like this in the future… it’s a stepping stone on the path to them opening up to each other more, understanding each other better… with lance actually explaining his insecurities in full to keith. once keith actually understands, he will be able to help more, i think… because he knows that lance is very skilled. keith knows lance is important and brings something to the team that no one else does. not to mention, lance is now the next person after shiro… that hasn’t given up on keith. he has stuck by his side and had his back basically all of season 3 and that is undeniably very important to keith. lance has become very important to him. keith even opened up and acknowledged his mistakes with lance. he never does that. he was extremely vulnerable in that situation and he sounded absolutely wrecked… that whole scene was just… very symbolic, beautiful and intimate. lance was able to bring him back up and get him back on track. i know lance has become extremely dear to keith, someone he now relies on and looks to in times of need. so, once he actually knows about the core of lance’s insecurities… i am certain he’s going to be there for him and reassure him about his importance on the team the best he can.

Bon Soir [Lafayette x Reader] Part One

Description: You, an American patriot from a loyalist family, catch the eye of the Marquis De Lafayette one night at a tavern. After your first night with the enigmatic frenchman, you realize how turbulent life can really get in a time as turbulent as this. 

Warnings For This Chapter: Smut, alcohol, mild swearing, and mild Lams, where I could slip it in ;) 

Notes: So, there will be five parts to this story. It will, if we’re being honest here, be updated probably once or twice a week until it is finished. This story is a mix of Hamilton’s characters and actual historical stuff, and there will also be lots of appearances from the rev set in this fic, so brrrah, brrrah!! Enjoy. 

||Part Two||


It’s a beautiful night in the colony of New York, the moon full and the usual chill in the air slightly warmed. Besides it being a lovely night, it was also quite rowdy- but during these turbulent times, you couldn’t expect less from the Northern colonies.  

You pull your cloak tighter around your shoulders… it’s really not a night to be out for a lady, but you couldn’t care less. Your family still clings to the proverbial olive branch, one of the less popular voices of loyalist reconciliation. You’re a patriot, through and through, and any chance you have to escape your frankly shameful homestead under an anonymous family name at night to “cavort” with those who share your views on freedom, you take.

Slipping down a dark alley with the hood of your cloak pulled up, you find your way into the even rowdier Fraunces Tavern. Looking around, you smile. Men clinking their sloshing drinks together, shouts and jeers at the king tossed around liberally- this was the beginning of a revolution, and you’d be damned if you missed it.

“You lookin’ for a good time, honey?” some guy with a heavy Boston accent asks you from the table next to the door, and you turn to him.

“I’m looking for a drink, and whatever good time I can derive from that.” The guy still stares at you, waiting for a follow up, so you decide to win even more favour by voicing your views. “Fuck the king?”

The entire table bursts out in cheers and pounds their fists and mugs down repeatedly as you smirk and saunter past them. You get to the bar, and ask for a Sam Adams, before turning around and surveying. To answer the drunk man’s question, you aren’t actively seeking that sort of good time, really… but, nights like these were full of exceptions.

“Here you are, miss,” the friendly bartender nods to you, then pauses, “I’ve seen you in here a couple times now, and I don’t recall your name.” He looks genuinely confused. “Who’s your husband?”  

“I’ll let you know once I find one,” you wink, and cross the tavern to occupy a booth. Just as you’re lifting up your skirts to sit, the door crashes open, and in come four very loud young men.

“What time is it?!” one yells, and the other three yell back, “Showtime!” while cackling and slapping each other on the back.

You roll your eyes again, imagining all the fights they were sure to start tonight. The bartender seems to know them, and pours four ales for them as well. Snatching up his drink, the short one with the ponytail and goatee marches right up to the table in the middle, getting up on it and chugging half his mug.

“To the revolution!” he finally bursts out with, and almost trips off the table. The large one with the beanie catches him, shaking his head with a grin, and the second shortest one with curly hair and freckles joins the talker with a close arm around his shoulder.

“Now this is the place to be, amiright boys?!” freckles shouts, taking a long drink.

“Oui oui, mon ami,” another voice chuckles, and your interest is immediately peaked. A frenchman in the colonies? The excitement of these taverns is incomparable, and it is exciting to say the least to hear someone from so far away- you know a little of the language, or what you had learned as a girl.

You watch in quiet admiration as a tall, athletically built man with dark hair tied up in a bun and a close trimmed beard steps out, carrying two mugs of ale. He hands one to beanie man, and plops his own down on the table. “We must tell the king casse toi with our war effort!”

“We will, Laf,” beanie assures, “But first? Horses.”

“What?” freckles and goatee both say at the same time.

“Corsets,” beanie laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, “I meant corsets.”

“Hercules, you are an idiot,” Laf deadpans.

“I’m the most mature one here,” Hercules shoots back.

“Easy, when tes amis are Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens.”

Hercules lets out a booming laugh, and is soon joined by Laf’s own charming snicker. Alex and John are too enamoured with their own private conversation to notice much.

Your eyes train on Laf. If he was french, he must have a longer name than that… you’re determined to know it. He was undeniably a charmer- he was handsome, dashing as a prince, and very stylish. With the words he had uttered earlier, you found it safe to assume he’s as passionate about American independence as you are.

You make an excuse to walk by.

Heyyy there,” goatee (Alexander)? calls, swivelling his head to look at you.

Bingo.

Hercules lets out a low whistle as you turn to face them. “I don’t mean to be too forward, but madamn.”

"What the ever loving merde is that supposed to mean, Hercules?” Laf’s face scrunches up, and Herc just shrugs.

“Works on most of ‘em.”

“I’m Alexander Hamilton, bastard, orphan, son of a whore,” Alex jumps up, grasping your hands, and you can see the gears in his slightly drunk mind turning. “So I’d love to flirt for like, a really long time because you’re pretty and everything, but there’s a revolution to plot-”

“-And drink to!” John adds.

“-And drink to, as my beautiful lover Jackie just piped in and waaait, I’m probably not supposed to say shit like that in a tavern full of guys who will probably have me castrated for it, but hey, we die like men, right?”

“Yo, um, sorry 'bout him,” John blushes with a slight slur, coming over to guide Alex back to his seat. “He gets- *hic*- chatty when he’s tipsy.” You just laugh, letting them know it’s no big deal. John doesn’t seem very interested in you romantically or sexually, only greets with a good natured- albeit tipsy as well- smile. Hercules gets up to introduce himself.

“Hercules Mulligan. I’m Irish.” He drops his voice down to a whisper. “That’s kind of my thing.” Laf gets up to hip bump Hercules out of the way, take your hand, and press a kiss to it. You blush deeply.

“Bon soir, belle mademoiselle. I am Paul Yves Roch-”

Heeere we go,” Alex slurs.

“-Gilbert de Motier de Marquis de Lafayette,” Laf finishes with a glare to his friends, then turns back to you with a gaze that could only be described as… lust ridden?

“Plaisir,” you reply in french, and his eyes widen, his entire body straightening like an arrow in excitement.

“You speak my mother tongue, cherie?!”

“Only a little,” you confess with a timid giggle, “I’m not French, monsieur Lafayette, only acquired some words from my studies.”

“Gorgeous and intelligent,” he flirts, “A lady after my heart.”

“Handsome and bold,” you volley back, “A man after mine.”

“OHHHH SHIT!” John shouts, and Alex begins to laugh.

“GUESS WHO’S GETTING IT IN TONIGHT?!”

“Not you two,” Laf growls, and John and Alex tumble over each other watching you both. Hercules just rolls his eyes, and downs his drink.

“Care to drink with us?” Lafayette offers, outstretching his hand, and you happily accept. Hercules gets up to grab you another beer, and slides it over to you. John begins to chug his second, and you smirk, taking it as a challenge. Downing yours to the last drop, you’ve finally earned the respect of Hercules Mulligan as he bangs on the table and shakes his head.

“You are getting better and better as the night goes on,” Laf whispers, and you laugh.

“Is that the alcohol talking?”

“On the contrary, cherie, I am still on my first… though I may be thinking with something other than my mind,” he alludes, and you feel a shiver run through you.

He is very attractive.

“What brings you to the colonies?” you ask Lafayette conversationally, and he takes a sip of his ale.

“Revolution.”

“You’re here for congressional duties?” you feign ignorance, though you know how to identify a congressman- powdered wigs, brightly coloured jackets, and stuffy mannerisms. Nothing Laf possessed.

“Ah no, mademoiselle. War is imminent- that is the talk here and overseas. I will fight as one of you for your glorious country!”

“Ayyy, to our fighting frenchman!” Alex lifts his mug, and John raises his as well.

“Very brave,” you murmur, “I wish I could serve in the continental army.”

“You can still do your part at home,” Laf assures, taking your hands excitedly, “You can make gunpowder, you can sew uniforms, you can…” he suddenly hesitates, lowering his eyes, “Pray for and write letters to your husband.”

“Why does everyone in this tavern assume I have a husband?” you tease, and he looks back up.

“Forgive me. No one has, eh… courted you yet?”

“Courted me? Oh, quite a few. I have yet to accept,” you giggle, “I suppose I’m just as hard to please as the next young lady.”

“I, too, have very specific tastes,” he nods, and bites his lip, “Mais, it would be very nice to have a woman to boost my morale on the battlefield.”

“Wait… hey, what’s your name?” John laughs, “We didn’t even ask!”

“Oh,” you blush, eye contact with Lafayette broken, “Um…” You sigh. It shouldn’t be any trouble to give them your real name. “(y/n) (y/l/n).”

Everyone repeats your name, raises a glass, and drinks. Lafayette smirks at you a moment longer, then drinks as well.

As the night wears on, you start to become even closer with the group. Stories are passed around, drinking games are played, and talk that would’ve sounded like treason in many other colonies flowed freely from your mouth with the boys. As the night begins to dwindle with the candles burning down close by, hands begin to wander, skirts began to lift a few inches, and blood begins to rise.

“Raise one last glass to freedom,” John finally says, somewhat soberly, as everyone stands up, “Something they can never take away.”

“No matter what they tell you,” Herc adds, placing a hand over his heart.

“Raise a glass to the… five of us, here tonight,” Alex nods, looking to you, “Our cause is a great one.”

“King George will never stand a chance,” you finish, and everyone downs their last sip and sits back down. With that, Laf takes your hand, rubbing a thumb over your knuckle. You turn to him, and take note of how he’s staring at your lips. Danger and adrenaline course through your veins, imagining just what he could be picturing right now. Practically in his lap by now, you shift your hips a little, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“It is getting late, ma cherie,” he murmurs, obviously holding back, and begins to stand.

“It is,” you nod, moving to brush your fingers along the hem of his blue coat, and grasp your fingers firmly in his lapel. His eyes dart to meet yours, dark and warning, and his fingers find yours as he lets out a wistful sigh.

“(y/n)… I am a gentleman, and you have had too much to drink.”

“I assure you,” you grin, turning the tables and ghosting a kiss over his knuckles, “I have not.”

He spends a long time staring at you, debating mentally. You can feel him hardening in his breeches under you, but despite his uncomfortable expression and beading sweat, he doesn’t make even the slightest nudge to meet your grinding movements.

“Are you quite certain?” he finally asks, interest beginning to spark again in his eyes as he realizes that maybe you do want him like this.

“All I want is to feel your lips on my neck,” you confirm with a whisper in his ear, and he slots his large hand around your wrist, standing you up. The three others don’t even question it as Laf leads you out the back door, and the once the heavy wooden door closes, you’re both free. He immediately presses the front of you right up against the brick, pulling your hair aside and grazing his teeth over the back of your neck.

“Then, if there are no reservations on either of our parts, I will give you everything you need,” he growls, and continues his attack on your neck, showering kisses up and down. You flip around so that you can face him, and he pins you back again, opening up the neck of your dress just a little more for better access.

Lafayette’s gaze is hungry. Your excitement is known to him as he reaches under your dress, unbuttons your underclothes and realizes you’re already wet for him.

“So eager,” he groans, “Such an eager little kitten, desperate for her papa, hm?”

“Oh,” you sigh, his words sending pulses down to your core. He pulls your underclothes off, but as his long fingers are about to breach you, he pauses.

“You… have been touched or taken before, yes?”

You bite your lip, look around, and nod shyly. If word of that got out around here, you’d be off the market, as it were…. not that you particularly desired to on the market, but that was a different matter entirely. His face blossoms into a grin, and he lifts your legs up to wrap around him.

“Hold onto me, cherie, do not let go,” he murmurs, and once your arms are secure around his neck as well, he uses one hand to unbutton his breeches. You can already see the outline of his large cock, and once he has everything undone, he pulls it out.

“Monsieur, you’re so big,” you whine, and he gazes at you, licking his lips.

“We can make it fit, ma cherie,” he whispers, “Spread your legs a little wider for me… that is it, kitten… like that.”

You keen under the pet name, and he positions himself at your entrance before finally pushing in, groaning together with you as you tighten around him.

“Oui, oui, yes…” he breathes, “That is good… so good for me…” He sucks his lip between his teeth, and after a few seconds, begins to move, nudging you back against the wall with each deep thrust. He’s very large, so he has no trouble hitting that spot that drives you crazy, but he makes it even better when his fingers find your clit; Laf has a different approach than most men do, though- the select few you’d been with (if they make the effort to find it at all) rub with harsh, rough pushes… Lafayette massages you in slow circles, making you moan for him.

Leaning forward, the intensity between you increases as your foreheads meet, lips drifting close to each other and parting, almost kissing but not for minutes at a time. The teasing was getting to him, and he finally surges forward, breathing in your breath. You give his bottom lip a feisty bite, and he smiles, drawing away.

“You are a true northern belle, mademoiselle (y/n),” he mumbles, panting, “You are not like other ladies.”

“Oh, on the contrary sir,” you reply, “I simply don’t bother with the false customs. I say, fuck tradition, and fuck anybody who wishes to advise me otherwise.”

“There is a revolution on because of Americans who share your general mindset, ma chou,” he grins, and kisses you again.

As you both begin to race toward your climax, his thrusts increase, and you’re soon being pounded into the wall, legs tight around his ass and cries being muffled in his blue coat.

“Please… ah, Laf….”

“(y/n), so perfect, j’aime votre parfum…”

As he whispers your name, you hear voices, and turn to see two men walking by the alley on the road, in hats and coats. They sound southern.

“What if th…th-” you gasp, and Laf strokes your cheek.

“They will not see us, it is too dark. Besides, why would anybody pay attention to a stray kitten, begging in an alley, like you?”

“Ah,” you throb again at his dark laugh, and he shrugs.

“Also, the alleyway behind a tavern is where all the drunkards stumble out to vomit. No respectable man or woman wants to see that.”

“What an arousing image,” you scowl, and lean in for another kiss.

“You are so beautiful,” he mumbles against your lips once you part, and licks a line up your neck to just below your ear; you’re losing yourself to the pleasure. “Do you think you can come for me, ma (y/n)?” Laf rasps in your ear, stroking over your clit fondly, and you nod with a little whine, crying out his name softly as he slams in particularly hard. Circling his hips to guide you through a long orgasm, he lets out a little gasp of his own after you’ve finished. As you shake and pant his name, he sets you down carefully before quickly pulling out and taking himself in hand, jerking frantically a couple times and coming like a shot against the brick wall. Your name falls from his lips a few times like a prayer, and soon, you’re both sated and exchanging lazy tongue kisses, tasting each other’s mouths in the night air.

It’s chillier than it was earlier. You should get home before your one of your sisters or father notices you’re gone.

“When do you leave to join the ranks?” you ask, staring into his eyes. He does up his buttons precisely, patiently and one at a time.

“Very soon, I assume, cherie.”

“How very childish of me, but… what you said, about having someone to look out for you…”

“Mmm?”

“Will you…” you look down, embarrassed, and take off a ring on your pinky finger. “Remember me over a couple beers with your friends?”

His eyes light up, and he presses a long kiss to your cheek.

“When I wake up and when I fall asleep, (y/n).”

You smile a little. “Thank you for your service.”

He kisses your hand one last time. “If it takes fighting a war and, eh…” he leans in to your ear, brushing your hair back, “getting better acquainted behind a tavern to meet, it will, most certainly, have been worth it, ma chou,” he smiles back.

You dance and sigh your way home, ignorant of every redcoat who gives you a second dirty look. With men like the Marquis de Lafayette and his friends leading the troops, those bastards’ll be back home where they belong in no time.

I’m almost too lazy to make this post because God it’s just so self explanatory but my loyalty to Temari runs too deep so here goes: 

They did exactly what I called they were gonna do and made her an over aggressive nagging house wive. This is why I complained over and over again three years ago when I saw they had moved her to Konoha because I KNEW someway somehow they were going to subject her character to this. They want her to be Yoshino 2.0 even though that’s NEVER been who she is because “lmao get it Shikamaru is just like his dad! Parallels!!”. They don’t take the time to think about how her character would actually react because none of that matters now - she exists solely to be Shikamaru’s wife. 

Some people are crying “abuse!” at what she did but I don’t really want to go there tbh. It’s very clear that in the Naruto universe things we find abusive are just par for the course. Calling out Temari in this instance would require we call out basically ever other female character which is not realistic. Domestic violence in Naruto is always played for laughs which is obviously fucked up but not something I think it’s fair to fault the characters for as we’re not intended to see it as abusive (even though realistically it is). No, what I really take issue with is the fact that being an overbearing and strict mother/wife is basically all Temari is given to do. 

This woman was born in one of the most fucked up situations of any character we see. He father was a walking human disaster, her mother was dead, and her youngest brother had a nasty habit of slaughtering anyone who looked at him the wrong way. She has always been strong and confident but throughout the series she softens considerably as she learns caring is not a weakness. She is a better diplomat than either of her brothers and remains calm and collected in even the tensest of situations. Her dynamic with Shikamaru has always been one of mutual respect and understanding which is what makes their relationship work so well (and IMO better than any of the canon relationships we got). Yes, Temari is a take no shit kind of person who probably WOULD chastise her son for his pitiful behavior - but not in the way we’re shown. In Boruto her parenting method basically amounted to “I’m just going to hit you and intimidate you until you get the picture and ultimately just end up listening to your cooler nicer wiser dad.” She doesn’t actually say anything of significance to Shikadai at all - that is reserved entirely for Shikamaru as he’s the influential one in their sons life. Temari is just there to be the ol’ ball-and-chain ~what a drag~ mom whose only dominion is the house she is confined to. THEN there’s the fact that Temari refusing to make dinner inevitably meant neither Shikamaru nor Shikadai could eat - as if a grown man could not make his own dinner and HAD to have his wife do it because it’s her domestic ~duty~. This is extra and dramatic but it actually makes me sick that they’re doing this to her. After everything she went through she would have something worthwhile to add to the conversation other than “bah you’re too easy on him I’m going to withhold meals to prove a point!!!”. She doesn’t treat her brothers like this and they’re consistently shown to value her opinion because her opinion is worth hearing. 

Temari played a crucial role in Suna politics prior to the end of the series. She sat on the council and came with Gaara to all the kage summits/meetings. She was one of the best kunoichi in the series just brimming with potential and strength and ferocity. During the war I began to get annoyed with how much they were making her revolve around Shikamaru’s character because after a certain point basically all her dialogue was in relation to him. That’s when I knew things were about to take a hard left turn for shits-ville and boy was I right. In chapter 700 ALL we see her doing is sitting in a house chastising her son and serving her brothers tea before they head out to a kage meeting without her. We don’t get any indication that she’s still affiliated with Suna, hell we don’t even get any indication that she’s still a ninja. In the boruto manga/movie she doesn’t interact with her siblings ONCE and is not with them in the pit with all the other Kage/advisors. I was happy to see she still had her fan but other than that I left highly unimpressed. Now in the anime she is ONCE AGAIN pictured in a house, serving people drinks and nagging away as if that’s all she’s good for anymore. I know it was played as a joke but that’s exactly what makes me so mad - her character has become nothing more than a trope meant to appeal to the lowest common denominator. The nagging housewive angle truly is the lowest hanging fruit but studio peirrot really could not resist could they.

Nevermind the fact that it would have been way funnier had they subverted the whole “why did you marry such a strict woman” thing by having Shikadai side with his mom instead, saying something to the effect of “why did you marry such an unmotivated slacker”. Can we stop treating Temari like she’s just an overly aggressive loaded gun that’s just one mistep away from going off. I mean I genuinely love Shikatema but I do not think the Boruto anime understands Shikatema. Part of me still wishes they just hadn’t got together because they don’t actually feel like “them” when they’re portrayed like this. No one is being respected as a character. 

Anyway all this to say I’m basically done with the Boruto anime now. I might still watch the next couple of episodes because curiosity is gonna get the better of me but emotionally I have severed all connections. It just comes down to the fact that I cannot handle them so grossly mischaracterizing characters that I have loved since I was 11 years old. I actually don’t mind the new gen when they’re on their own but every damn time they show one of the original characters they manage to fuck them up in some way. We see it with Temari, with Naruto, with Yamato, with Sakura. Hell I can’t stand Sasuke and even I’m mad about what they did to him post chapter 699. I am never going to like the new gen characters more than the original cast so if watching Boruto means seeing them get completely decimated then I’m not gonna watch it. Simple as that. Naruto being an absent father is the worst crime but I have no doubt they’ll continue to top that in future episodes. 

Why the Malec Wedding Kiss is the Best Kiss in TV history (in my opinion).

you know, i’ve always talked about the wedding kiss and how great it is, but i never really stopped to pay attention. i’m now convinced it is the best kiss in tv history. honestly. looking at it from a different perspective, and not just as someone who loves malec. i’m explaining under the cut with pics & gifs.

well, let’s start with the obvious: it’s an interracial/bisexual/gay couple on TV. like for public consumption. i know they are not the first gay or bisexual couple on tv, but they are one of the most unique. (really who can say their tv show has an openly bisexual asian male warlock who is dating a recently out gay man who fights demons for a living?) keep in mind that all of this is in preparation for just one kiss.

moving onto the whole concept of the wedding itself. the reason it’s being done is to restore the lightwood family name. alec did choose to do it, but he most definitely would have been forced if he had refused. so, alec was going to marry a woman, a woman who knew he was gay. thank god that crisis was averted. 

okay, now we’ll get into it. you can basically tell from the start that alec is totally unsure about this whole thing. it’s very visible in his body language and facial expressions (bravo, matthew daddario). 

then we have isabelle, sweet dear isabelle. she’s against this and you can see it in her face because she knows alec is gay. she looks very reluctant to be handing over the wedding bracelet. (i would gif this, but). cut to alec putting on lydia’s necklace and we get to see isabelle once again. she’s trying to smile, but you can tell it’s so forced. she doesn’t want this for her brother. you see isabelle the whole time behind lydia looking like she wishes she could just end this. 

then we have the so very awkward ceremonial procedures begin. that’s the only word i can say. awkward. 

ah, and then magnus. the door’s close and everyone’s heads shoot up, facial expressions confused. then magnus walks into the room and it’s almost like you can feel time stop in that moment. 

everyone is clearly confused, and alec’s mother is not even trying to hide her anger. isabelle breathes a small sigh of relief and we see a genuine smile on her face. jace is confused, and asks isabelle if alec invited magnus. we find out that isabelle did (thank you, izzy). alec’s mother rises and storms toward magnus, telling him to “leave this wedding now.” magnus immediately silences her and tells her that this matter is between he and her son, and he’ll leave only if alec asks him to. 

now alec, alec is just standing there in shock. he hasn’t even moved his arm from where he was preparing to have his bracelet put on by lydia. his mouth is actually hanging open, his face reads complete disbelief. 

there’s a lot of staring between alec and magnus, but each look has so much meaning. jace asks alec if he’s going to be okay, and alec never responds, cause he looks like he’s about to pass clean out. he finally breaks his stare with magnus when lydia calls his name. alec proceeds to tell her, “i can’t breathe.” now let me tell you, earlier in the show, magnus is telling alec what happens when you’re falling for someone. one of his quotes is, “you lose your breath every time they enter the room.” i don’t think alec has breathed once since magnus walked through that door. lydia thinks the comment is about her, but alec shuts it down almost immediately. he tells her that he can’t do it, he thought it was the right thing to do for his family, but it isn’t. 

we now have a moment where lydia tells alec not to worry about her, he deserves to be happy (thank you, lydia). you can see alec preparing himself for what’s about to happen. he smiles nervously at lydia and then breathes audibly deep before turning around to face magnus once more. 

ahem. now i would like to personally thank whoever did the music for this scene. “war of hearts” by ruelle describes their relationship perfectly and it fits so so well with the scene. okay, so now you can almost touch the tension it’s so strong. the anticipation is building inside of you. for a moment, just the piano is heard while they’re staring at each other and that’s when it hits you: he’s really about to do this. 

there’s a lot of staring that goes on before alec starts walking, but he never breaks eye contact with magnus after he sets his eyes on him. you can see the moment in alec’s facial expression when he decides what he’s going to do. i’ll let you see it for yourself. 

reminding you all now that all this set up is for one kiss. a very important, ground-breaking, earth shattering kiss. 

alec’s walk is determined as he plows down the isle toward magnus. magnus has no idea what’s about to happen. he doesn’t know if alec is coming to yell at him, coming to tell him to leave, or what, but he certainly wasn’t expecting what was coming. 

alec’s mother demands to know what’s he’s doing, and alec tells her one word: “enough.” he says this without ever looking away from magnus. and then suddenly, he’s in front of magnus and your stomach is flipping. alec grabs magnus by the lapels of his jacket and just goes for it

it does not matter how many times i watch this scene, my stomach will always get butterflies and i will always smile. you see the reactions of everyone. jace & isabelle are happy, the silent brother is confused, lydia is happy for him, and clary & simon look pretty ecstatic). alec’s mother is pissed, and the dad just looks kind of embarrassed, i guess? 

anyway, it doesn’t matter. what matters is how passionate the rest of this scene is. it is honestly one of the best television kisses i have ever seen. you can tell how much meaning this singular kiss holds. you can tell just how much this is going to change everything for them, but they don’t care.

magnus? he doesn’t want it to end. when alec breaks away, magnus chases after his lips and it’s a wonderful moment. the two make eye contact briefly. 

then alec, well, alec goes in for more. 

i’ve watched this scene more times than i can count and it never fails to give me butterflies. most tv kisses don’t do that for me. the preparation for the kiss is so so crucial and important and beautiful. it makes the kiss itself that much more powerful. 

now, i know not everyone agrees and this was simply an opinion. but i thought that i would share. this kiss changed both of their lives. it was the start of their forever. i would like to thank matthew daddario and harry shum jr for the effort and love they put into these characters. without them, malec wouldn’t be what it is. they are simply incredible together and it shows (if you need more proof, watch 2x18). i suggest you watch the scene for yourself and really pay attention, it makes it so much more gratifying. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_dBOjU1w48


i’ll end this with a quote from my best friend who is a member of the lgbt+ community herself. i asked her what malec meant to her, and this was her response: “it means that it’s possible to just do what’s gonna make you happy in a relationship no matter how the people around you react. the fact that slowly, but surely, the people around them start to accept them and support them. despite the fact that alec ‘disappointed’ his whole family. this interracial couple defying all the odds and being together even when it means destroying their safe and comfortable world to strive for their own happiness is my shit.” 


anonymous asked:

I like Mary. I think she's awesome. I don't see why she has to be evil.

Oh, boy, okay.

Listen you can like Mary all you want – I loved her too before the fucked up her entire story arc – but her entire arc was building up to be a villain, and a badass one that was going to go down with a fight. 

I’m REALLY not trying to be pedantic here, Nonny, but asks like this force me to pull out receipts, all of which I’m sure you’re not going to read, because who likes to be proved wrong, but I digress. I always end up sounding more harsh than I am when all I want to do is educate you on my perspective and what the narrative is teaching us.

THAT’S Why she’s a villain. When a character kills the title character of a show, they are coded as the bad guy unless they do a redemption arc that actually is a redemption.

Mary had NO redemption arc AT ALL. Even in S4, Mary is STILL manipulating and emotionally abusing Sherlock and John against each other with her fucking creepy-assed DVDs and her belittling of John in T6T. She still runs off to go do her little assassin things and still lied and manipulated everyone. And I know the argument is going to come up, but Mary’s gunshot was NOT a redemption. A redemption arc has the ex-villain doing a good deed and being genuinely sorry for their past actions. Not ONCE Mary has ever apologized for any of the shit she put everyone through. All of it was a plan, especially if she had creepy DVDs made FAIRLY RECENTLY (you can tell because of the hair style) to send out to people. Also:

YOU ARE EVIL IF YOU ACTIVELY OR POSTHUMOUSLY TELL SOMEONE TO GO KILL THEMSELVES.

That and Mary’s entire death scene was RIDICULOUS and completely contradicted EVERY rule that was established in this universe only 2 episodes prior on how characters die.

Nonny, Mary’s character arc is one I have been passionate about for many years, even before I was a Johnlocker, because her character was fascinating to me, and helped me understand the psychology and make sense of events that were happening in my life at the time. Right up until TAB, Mary was being coded as the next Moriarty. For some reason or another, Mofftiss decided to turn her into an “assassin with an heart of gold” and failed spectacularly.

If Mary truly was good, she WOULD HAVE TOLD JOHN FROM THE BEGINNING WHO SHE WAS, OR AT LEAST TOLD SHERLOCK SHE NEEDED HELP. HLV would have not played out as it did. Instead deciding that killing Sherlock was her only option so that she could continue to manipulate John, since she knew he was most malleable when he was grieving Sherlock.

You can read Mary’s character however you want, I could care less… well okay apparently I do because of this reply… But please, seriously consider that what became of her character really made no goddamned sense to the narrative arc the built for her and quite frankly really lazy writing. Just because she is a woman, doesn’t mean that she is nice and sweet and not abusive. Excusing her of her brand of emotional abuse and manipulation is really sexist.

People thought my mother was a nice person, too.

I bacha(ta) I can dance better than you ! - Jason Todd x Hispanic!reader

Not even sorry for the bad pun in the title. Ok so I really REALLY HOPE I didn’t mess up this story, because I’d be super mad at myself if I mis-represent said hispanic!reader ! I hope it’s fine, I tried really. ANYWAY IMMA SHUT UP NOW HOPE YOU’LL LIKE IT !! Also, I’m French, and never even learned Spanish in class (I was taught German), so I hope the Spanish things I’ll put in are right 

PS : Reader is from Honduras because another anon’ kindly ask me to write a hispanic!reader from there :-). However I didn’t delve in the Hondura culture THAT much, just a few hint, because I still wanna keep it “broad” enough if that makes sense. 
PPS : Someone pointed out Jason actually know how to speak Spanish in the comics and…well, this is an imagine. It’s obviously not canon. I might write another story where he surprises his hispanic s/o because he indeed already speak Spanish fluently though :D. Endless possibilities really. 

My masterlist blog : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com

__________________________________________________

Jason didn’t even remember, what brought him in the Spanish quarter of Gotham that day, but he blessed whatever guided his feet there every single hours that went by because…Well, he met you. 

He was lost in thoughts when he stumbled on a huge gathering of people right there, in the middle of the street. A song was resonating in the entire block (this song : click here to listen to it), and the noises all around him brought him back to reality. 

People were cheering, dancing, singing…but it’s you who caught his attention.

 Pushing through the crowd to see what everything was about, he saw you. And you were absolutely owning the place. 

You were dancing with a man, in rhythm with the music, and Jason was completely subjugated by you and your movements. 

There was absolutely no doubt you were the center of this little party, right in the middle of the street…Cars were even waiting patiently, their drivers not daring to honk or anything, just looking at everyone dancing and enjoying life. 

If he wasn’t so suddenly hypnotized by you, Jason would have realized you weren’t at all the center of the attention. Hell, no one was. It was just a giant gathering of people being happy. A spontaneous event that someone listening to a song too loudly sprout. 

Literally, the owner of a local small convenience store’s favorite song was passing on the radio, and he got so excited he pushed the sound all the way up…And then someone, no one knew who, started dancing, another one joined in…until the entire block turned into a giant dancing floor. 

Some danced way better than you, but Jason didn’t even notice them. His attention was fully fixed on you, on every move you made, every step you took, your smile, your (H/C) dancing in the wind…He would never admit it, but he fell in love with you right on the spot. 

As suddenly as this dancing party started, it stopped, as the song was getting to an end, and everyone, after a lot of hugs, laughter, cheering and applause, slowly returned to their every day life. 

Jason found himself, too stunned to move, on the sidewalk, looking at you getting away…He wanted to run after you, but something was holding him on the spot. He just couldn’t move at all. And his heart started to beat like crazy as he realized he was letting you get away without even trying to talk to you ! 

Fortunately that day, Destiny was finally kind to him. 

-(Y/N) ! HEY (Y/N) WAIT UP ! 

As you were about to turn the corner of the street and disappear forever, you turned around. (Y/N). So that was your name. So beautiful…it rolled on his tongue perfectly. And oh when you smiled at the guy next to him who was calling you, he felt like he was melting into a puddle. 

You crossed the street to join the man who called you. It was the man with whom you were dancing a bit earlier. As you reach for him, he takes your hands and Jason’s heart dropped. 

-Ooooh hermosa, were you gonna leave without saying goodbye ? 

-I wouldn’t dare Ale’, it’s just that I really got to get to work, you made me late Mr. Alejandro Barientos ! 

-Oh hey, I bet your boss will understand the need to dance no ? 

-You know my boss mi amigo, she’s pretty harsh. 

-Oh hey, don’t talk about your mama like that. She does everything so you can have a good life. 

-I know Ale’, I know. Anyway I really gotta run before her “everything” forces me to work extra hours because I was late ! See ya later Mr. Barientos !

He kisses you on the cheek and you do the same, and in an instant, you’re gone again. Jason cannot stop himself from looking at you as you leave, his heart tightening at each step you take, as you go away…He wants to run after you but, what good could it do ? That Alejandro was obviously your boyfriend, why else would he dance with you like that, and kiss you and…Something catches Jay’s eyes. 

It’s “Ale’”. And he’s kissing a man. Not on the cheek. 

Time seems to suddenly slow down, as Jason’s head moves in between the man he thought was your boyfriend and you. He has to make a decision in this split second, as you’re about to disappear forever around the corner…

Jason Todd doesn’t hesitate, he starts to run after you as fast as he can. 

Keep reading

Texts Between Strangers

Note: female/woman ‘reader’


Hey, it was really nice meeting you last night. Maybe we can grab lunch tomorrow? This is Cisco btw.

The text pops up on your phone screen as you’re scrolling through social media. You’ve been lounging in bed on this rainy Saturday morning planning on doing absolutely nothing for the rest of the day but binge watch The Walking Dead and order thai take out later. You just stare at the text for a minute, blinking.

You definitely didn’t give your number to anyone last night because all you did yesterday was pull a double shift at Jitters because they’ve been short staffed lately. A long day at work usually left you looking a bit wrecked so you’re damn sure there wasn’t anyone slipping their digits your way either.

This person has the wrong number.

Keep reading

Thoughts on Prince Liam’s Reaction (The Royal Romance, Book 1 Finale)

It seems like a lot of people were upset by Prince Liam’s reaction in the finale. I’m a Prince Liam stan through and through and this didn’t bother me at all. What bothered me more was that his duty as the next king forced him to choose Madeleine.

Yes, I am making a distinction between (1) Prince Liam’s reaction to the scandal; and (2) Prince Liam being forced to choose Madeleine. They are related but they are not the same thing, and it’s important to know the difference.

There are three parts to the way the Prince reacts when the scandal breaks. I’ll go through each and try to underscore why I feel they are justified and very much in character.

1.       As soon as Prince Liam sees the pictures, he looks for MC. I think this is the highlight of how he reacts to the scandal, because unlike others (e.g. other suitors, whose support we thought we had), he doesn’t immediately jump to conclusions. Prince Liam’s knee-jerk reaction – and I argue, his most important reaction, since this is his initial, unthinking response – is that he wants to find MC. He is arguably more shocked than anyone else in the room in that moment, but the first thing that comes to his mind is neither blame nor judgement; he just wants to see her.

2.       When the Queen tells Prince Liam that MC must have withdrawn, he counters that he has to speak with MC. At this point, he looks angry. We see the Queen pull him aside. 

I can only make a guess at this point, but she probably reminds him about his “princely duties” and compels him to choose his bride. It doesn’t actually matter what she says, because we know how seriously Prince Liam takes his responsibility to Cordonia and its people. As long as it’s for the good of the kingdom, we know Prince Liam will do it as long as it’s within his power.

Will you fault him for this? Remember, this is the conclusion of the social season and he is not only expected to choose a bride; existing rules in Cordonia require him to. If you recall what the Prince mentions a few chapters back, running the small kingdom is no easy feat. Scandals at court, among other things, can plunge its economy into a slump. Consequently, this can adversely affect its people. 

If anything, I think Leo’s presence in this chapter is also meant to be a reminder that no, Cordonia cannot afford to face another scandal at this time, not when the last one happened only very recently.

We have been told, again and again: Social season is not for Prince Liam to find the love of his life. It’s for him to find someone who will rule Cordonia together with him.

3.       The King announces that the Prince must make his choice. There is a pause, and here Prince Liam looks furious  – until finally he calls Madeleine. 

You can argue that the Prince could have said no; he’s a prince and he’s going to be the future king. But here’s the thing: being a prince doesn’t give him absolute power, and neither does being the future king. There is a reason why a Council exists, and that is for checks and balances. For those who are not familiar, this kind of setup is in place to make sure that whoever is sovereign cannot abuse his or her power. Again, the rules dictate that Prince Liam is going to have to choose his bride when the social season concludes; he cannot say no, regardless of his feelings about the matter. 

What do you think would have happened had he refused? Well, if we’re just going to consider him and MC, both the best and the worst case scenario end up with them being able to talk that evening, him finding out the truth, and everything being sorted out… eventually. Certainly not in one evening, whether we’re being optimistic or pessimistic about it.

Now here’s a more interesting question, since we’re involved with a prince: What happens to the people beyond him and MC? More specifically, what happens at court and the people of Cordonia? 

The obvious answer is that the Council will not be happy, since Prince Liam calling for a “pause” flat out defies existing rules and tradition. If the Council has members who put great importance on tradition, this can be seen as an act of disrespect, and they cannot be expected to support the Prince in his choice at all. On the other hand, if Prince Liam’s family has enemies who want to end their reign, it can be used as a justification to seize the throne from Prince Liam and keep him from being king at all. The timing cannot be more perfect, because King Constantine has already announced his abdication prior (during the Regatta).  

Let’s look at what will happen to the people of Cordonia from an economic perspective. Let’s consider one scenario, where investors considering putting up their business in Cordonia hear about Prince Liam bending the rules to suit his purpose and defying the advice of the Council. His actions will precede him moving forward. Tabloids can probably spin it as romantic, but business circles will consider it reckless, unwise, and not befitting of a future king at all. “If he’s already acting so whimsically before he is even king,” they will ask, “what keeps him from doing so after he is crowned one?” One of the basics of doing business is that your expectations of what will happen in the future will influence your decision today. If businessmen expect Prince Liam to continue this behavior when he becomes king, they will most likely move their business somewhere else. Not only will Cordonia’s reputation suffer, it will also lose employment opportunities and tax revenues, which would have otherwise helped its citizens and its economy. 

Considering the what-if scenarios listed above, do you really think Prince Liam had any other viable move at all? 

Before I conclude this, I have one more thing to say: It is a gross disservice to Prince Liam’s character to call him “a pushover”. Really? Have we been reading the same book? It pisses me off that anyone can possibly think of him this way, and I will absolutely not stand for it. He is many things – reserved, thoughtful, perhaps even overly cautious and selfless to a fault – but these are the things that make him a good man and a great future king. He has been preparing to rule Cordonia all his life, and he knows exactly what is at stake. He knows that what his heart desires has no value whatsoever when it comes to the decisions that he must make as a member of the royal family. This awareness, together with his genuine concern for his kingdom and his people, are what guides his actions and the way he conducts himself.

If you don’t realize that… well that’s very disappointing.

batfamgirl777  asked:

Could you write a Damian Wayne oneshot where she is a new Bat protege called Mockingjay. Damian has been relatively quiet around her but she has a slight crush on him. Dick insists on a movie night and she sits between Jason and Dami. She starts to fall asleep and leans onto Jay's shoulder. Jay picks her up and sets her in Dami's lap and she cuddles into him. Jay just says something like "Cuddle your girlfriend". And just ... some fluffy movie night stuff and blushing reader ...?

Oh my lord this is too cute thank you!

~~~

“Hi, Damian.” You waved as the boy in question walked past you.

“Mockingjay.” He replies without looking at you.

Your shoulders sag and you face your food, not feeling as happy as you had before.

Ever since you became Robin’s partner, he had been distant with you. That of course meant that you developed a crush on him. Because it would’ve been to easy to have a crush on someone who actually said hi once in a while.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Dick slides into the chair across from you and looks at you expectantly.

“Huh? Oh nothing. I’m fine.” You don’t realize that your still looking at the door Damian had gone through.

Dick turns and looks through the open door to see the young Wayne sitting engrossed in whatever he was doing.

A smirk found its way onto his face as he turned to look at you again.

“What do you say we skip patrol tonight? I’m sure I can convince Bruce to let us have a movie night instead?”

You look at him skeptically.

“No way he would ever allow that.” You raise an eyebrow.

Dick stands up determinedly. “Challenge accepted.”

~~~

“I can’t believe he actually allowed this.” You mutter to yourself as you make your way to the couch.

Dick grins smugly at you as he takes a seat in the couch. You look to the only open spot and have a mini panic attack. It’s in between Jason and Damian.

Jason you could handle. You liked the Red Hood. He was funny and nice to you.

But Damian? The boy who had only ever spoken to you out of necessity? The boy you had feelings for? That one?

You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks heat up as you took the seat. You didn’t notice that you leaned a bit more towards Jason, or the look of hurt that flitted across the Boy Wonder’s face before it was replaced by a mask of cool indifference.

But Dick noticed.

And he smiled.

~~~

It was the fourth movie of the night and you were finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

Usually at this time you were crawling into your warm bed and falling asleep, still in costume.

But sandwiched in between the two boys, both of whom were larger than you, you were pretty warm.

Which was why you didn’t feel weird at all as you drifted off to sleep, your head lolling to the side and landing on Jason’s shoulder.

It took a few minutes for Dick to notice you were asleep, and for him to nudge Jason’s shoulder.

“What do you want?” Jason hissed.
“Y/N is sleeping.”

Dick nodded and looked at Damian suggestively, altering between pointing at you and pointing at Damian.

Jason’s eyes widened in understanding. He smirked and glanced at Damian, who was trying very hard not to notice how comfortable you were on his brother.

He looked at you however when Jason scooped you up and dumped you on his lap.

“Todd what is the meaning of this?” Damian couldn’t hide the faint rings of pink on his cheeks as you burrowed yourself into his chest, eager for warmth.

“Shut up and cuddle your girlfriend.” Jason replied, his eyes returning to the screen.

“She isn’t-she’s not my girlfriend.” Damian spluttered, his cheeks growing red now.

“And who’s fault is that?” Dick interjected. “You’re the one who has been blowing off every attempt at a conversation with her.”

“I’m not, I didn’t, I fail to see how this is your business, Grayson.” Damian replied, trying to maintain his cool facade.

“You made it my business when you started making her sad.” Dick said with an eye roll.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I would have noticed if she had feelings for me.” Damian scoffed, looking down at you longingly.

“Are you blind?” Jason exclaims, making Damian glare as you shift in your sleep.

“Sometimes I wonder if you really are the son of the World’s Greatest Detective.” Dick slams a palm to his forehead.

Suddenly, the a character in the movie slams a door, making you start and wake up.

The three boys freeze and stare at you expectantly.

The smell surrounding you isn’t the same one you fell asleep to. Instead of gunpowder and pine, you smell animal fur and, something else that you can’t quite put a finger on.

You use your hands to push yourself up and turn to look at whatever you were sleeping on.

“Oh my god!” You reel back as you realize what happened, falling off the couch in a tangle of blankets.

“Y/N are you okay?” You hear the smile in his voice and you moan in embarrassment.

“Oh my god.” You whine, staying wrapped up in the blankets. Your cheeks are blazing and it’s starting to get really hot in the blankets. Plus, Dick and Jason are laughing at you.

You feel cool air against your face as someone pulls away the blankets.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you, even though I thought it was Jason, and-” you stop abruptly when you see him smiling at you.

You’ve never seen him smile like that before. Genuine. He usually only smiles when he’s fighting criminals, or antagonizing someone, but it never looks like this.

“It’s fine. I truly didn’t mind.” He offers a hand to help you up.

You manage to free your hand from the blankets and take his, the butterflies threatening to explode when you make contact.

The blankets fall to the floor when you’re standing, and you blush again.

“Thank you.” You said, before turning towards the stairs. “I should probably get to bed though, so that doesn’t happen again.”

As you walk away your hear the couch shifting and feel a silent argument before a voice breaks that silence.

“I’ll come with you. I should probably rest as well.” Damian calls.

You hear his footsteps hurry to catch up with as you fight to keep your cheeks from turning red again.

As you climb the stairs, you get the feeling that he wants to say something.

“Y/N?” He says before you enter your room.

You turn and look up at him. He leans down and presses as soft kiss to your lips before pulling away, a tinge of pink on his cheeks. It’s nothing compared to the full blown explosion on yours.

“Would you like to accompany me to the movies sometime in the near future ?” He asks you.

“I, um, I” you curse your traitorous mouth when a look of disappointment clouds his face.

“Yes Damian I would love to.” You manage to say, your heart beating faster when he smiles at you again.

“I would love to.” You say again once in the safety of your own room.

Reaching

Originally posted by mvssmedia

Genre: slight angst, fluff, smut

Pairing: Reader x Namjoon, Reader x Jimin

Word Count: 3k

*REQUESTED*

Summary: Ever since Namjoon moved in next door, you’ve had a crush. While you think of ways to approach him, Jimin steps in to help.


Your heart raced every time you saw him. He wouldn’t even be looking your way and he had the power to make your heart flutter. He knew your name and who you were and said hi to you on the occasion but it never came down to more than just that. He was your neighbor, someone you saw pretty regularly.

This morning, you decided to change things. You were going to say hi to him. You’d do more than that, actually. You wanted to invite him to your house for the small gathering you were having tomorrow night. You thought of knocking on his door, later, after work. Maybe you would or maybe, if it was more convenient, you’d see him on your way to work.

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Little disclaimer, I fucking love Petra okay? I`m not against shipping her with Levi or trying to hate on her character, this is all an excuse for me to write Levi being hopelessly in love and jealous!Petra is one of my guilty pleasures. Petra is a sweet angel and doesn`t deserve the suffering I put her though, that is all u-u 

AO3 Version

______________________________________________________________

When Eren had been thrust into their squad, she’d thought nothing of him. Yes, he was handsome and new, but it wasn’t something she, as devoted to Levi as she was, took notice of.

She should have noticed the lingering looks Levi kept sending him, the shy glances he got in return.

She should have noticed the way the Corporal helped him off his horse when they’d arrived at that castle, despite him being entirely able.

Should have noticed the charged air between them, when they’d disappeared without a trace for an entire night to tend to the horses that had already been tended to that morning.

Maybe she could have prepared, but she was too sure, too blinded.

And because of that, too late.

E♡L

Petra seethed silently as Eren scooted closer to Corporal Levi, he may as well have been in his lap! And the dark haired man wasn’t even protesting, she was beginning to think he’d actually let the young brunette do it! Levi was telling an intricate story of he and Hanji getting into something or other and normally she’d be enthralled by it, but ever since Eren found his way into their squad, he threw it all to hell. Now instead of Levi glancing at her when a particularly funny part was told, his eyes were only for Eren.

Eren who laughed genuinely at nearly every joke, and who got away with calling out the bad ones.

Eren who had Levi’s apt attention, had the man leaning over towards him to whisper little details of the tale no one else was allowed to hear, had him giving a twitch of his lips every time he got another pretty laugh from the teen.

Levi was absolutely enraptured, it was easy to tell.

And Petra was absolutely livid.

E ♡ L

She knew it was wrong, to dislike Eren for something he’d had no control over, how was he to know that Levi would find him so much more charming than she, would want him so quickly. She certainly hadn’t.

Nevertheless, she did dislike him for it, and it showed. She knew he felt the shift in her treatment of him, how she would ignore him entirely if it was just the two of them, and throw undeserved remarks poorly disguised as jokes when in front of others.

She knew that eventually he’d tell his beloved superior about it, but she didn’t expect to be called to the man’s office only minutes later. That wiped the meanspirited smirk right off her face.

He’d stared her down like she’d was a titan he was ready to strike to the ground. And Eren , sweet, innocent Eren, stood guiltily at his side, he looked so pretty in the warm backlight of dusk. She hated it.

Had he come here, tears in his big doe eyes, and poured his hurt heart out to his Corporal? Had Levi taken him into his arms and soothed his sniffles and vowed to take care of it? Kissing, petting, snuggling, doing everything in his power to appease his boy?

“Petra, Eren tells me he’s being treated like a steaming pile of shit, why is that?” Levi asked her darkly.

“Are you sure he isn’t overreacting, sir? He can be a bit of a crybaby.” She answered cheekily, a confused smile on her face. Levi’s face only darkened further.

“This is exactly what I mean, how was that necessary?” He asks her lowly.

She spares a glance at Eren, who is wringing the hem of his shirt in nervousness.

“It- I- It’s not, sir…” What else could she say? All Eren had done was win the Corporal’s affection, all he had done was unknowingly steal away what she’d been after for years, all he had done was-

“As I thought. Shape up, your attitude is annoying and unprofessional, I expect more from you.” Levi scolded, it cut extremely deep.

Eren spoke up then, voice timid and forgiving. “P-Petra, I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry if I -”

“Don’t apologize, she’s the one with a stick up her ass.” Levi cut in gruffly, it wasn’t unkind, just blunt. Just true.

“You’re dismissed, Ral.”

Ral. Not Petra, not a friend, Ral.

Eren was giving her an apologetic look, as though he had never meant to throw a wrench in what Petra had thought was her intimate relationship with Levi. He should be sorry, everything was his fault wasn’t it? If he had never-

“Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.” She replied stiffly, and marched out if the office. She lingered outside of the door she’d closed behind her.

“I didn’t mean to start a fight between you two.” Eren’s muffled voice all but whimpered.

“Don’t you start, this isn’t your fault.”

Silence, she should go, but she stayed there, rooted in her place, listening.

“Oi, stop looking sorry for yourself and come here.” Levi ordered.

She should go.

“C-Corporal, it’s broad daylight!” Eren hissed after a distinct ruffle of clothing and the light squeak of a chair.

She should go.

“Mmn.” Levi mumbled noncommittally, followed a series of soft smacks, and Eren’s sweet sighs and reluctant moans.

“Corporal…!” He whines.

She leaves.

E♡L

She sees them snuggling and whispering to each other like childhood sweethearts, where they think no one can see them, no one can, except for her, she makes herself see it.

The way Eren childishly turns his head away when the older man whispers a particularly sweet nothing in his ear, one that has Levi smirking and Eren turning bright red.

The way Levi’s acting like a young boy with that wide grin on his face while he tries to catch Eren’s eyes to see the embarrassment he’s trying to hide from him.

She imagines herself in Eren’s place, where she should be. It should be Eren watching her and Levi longingly, wishing for him, not her. She was here first, she had thought Levi treated her as a favorite, as a potential lover, but that-

It was nothing compared to what he was giving Eren, it was like getting a lovely doll for a holiday, only to have your sibling get a far nicer one with a dollhouse and matching dress. It made her want to gag.

She’d always manage to pull herself away when things started to get intimate between the two of them, there was only so much she could take, seeing them so connected, so utterly in love…

It would break her.

E♡L

Petra had thought, surely she wasn’t the only one unhappy with their Corporal’s budding relationship? Surely her comrades were disgusted, Eren was another man after all, surely they’d agree the Corporal needed a woman, one who could offer him a family, much less a compatible body.

“They’re cute, aren’t they?” Gunter commented offhandedly, eyes on the happy couple, as most were, so in awe of the ever-aloof raven bending over backwards for his new sweetheart.

The two were engaged in a lazy game of “footsie” under the table, Eren’s thanks being given when Levi would sneak more extra meat onto Eren’s plate from his own. Along with the boy scolding him for not eating enough of his dinner.

“Y-you think so?” Petra asked in thinly veiled shocked.

“I’d say more adorable, but that’s just me.” Eld gushed. “The Corporal falling in love! It’s like a fairytale isn’t it? Can’t say I blame him though.” His brown eyes shifted to Eren in appreciation.

“Hmph, he’s got a cute face, be a better catch if he wasn’t such a brat though.” Oluo agreed reluctantly.

Petra was flabbergasted by everyone’s happiness over their coupling, did no one think that she was a better option?

“I’m so happy he’s happy.” Hanji sighed dreamily.

“Indeed, it’s refreshing. Though, I’m a little jealous, I must say.” Erwin adds with a chuckle.

He was happy, just with the wrong person.

E♡L

She had to take action, she wouldn’t lose years of yearning only to have them swept away by a green-eyed boy who had no right! She wrote shakily, yet elegantly on her best parchment, saved for letters to her family, she used extremely expensive red ink as she wrote out an enticing, provocative letter to her superior.

She wrote of how much her body yearned for him, how he held her heart in his hand, how she forgave him for being unknowing of her affection and that she was all too ready to show him how far it extended.

She wrote of a time and place, tonight, it said, by the forest, it begged, meet me there at midnight.

She would come to him like an alluring dryad, beckon him close with a whispered confession, he would be caught up in her beauty, he’d reach out for her, kiss her, hold her, he would be mad for her.

He would realize the error of his ways, see that Eren had only distracted him with his exotic looks, that he wasn’t really in love with the youth.

She’d forgive Eren, too, the poor boy had only been dragged into their romance by chance and she’d accept him and his broken heart because she was good. She’d hold him when he cried for Levi to come back to him, and let him know that he would find love with someone else.

Yes, it would be so perfect! Petra squealed girlishly as she reread her risque letter, and thought of her fairytale ending.

She daintily spritzed the letter with her best perfume, it smelled if roses and citrus, and sealed it in a decorated envelope with a rose shaped seal.

She gave it a kiss for good luck and snuck off to slip it underneath the Corporal’s door, scurrying off before anyone could see her.

Then skipped her way back to her own quarters to get ready, she had to look absolutely ethereal!

E♡L

She’d waited outside in the cold of midnight for him to show, she knew it had been nearly three hours since then from the moon’s place in the sky. That silly, sweet old man. He was just as shy as she’d expected from her suggestive words. She’d have to collect him herself.

A little less romantic than she imagined, but she was sure it would be something they would laugh at when they looked back. Just like his and Eren’s relationship.

She made her way to his sleeping quarters fondly.

She stopped suddenly in the hall as she went to knock on his door. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she stopped breathing altogether.

“Ah! Levi! Oh, oh Maria, a-ah!” A voice that was barely recognizable as Eren’s moaned.

Muffled but obvious slaps of skin against skin, the constant banging of a headboard against the wall, the squeaking of a bed frame.

“Eren, ah shit, Eren! Hah…!” Levi growled back.

Petra wanted to die.

“Hhmm, Levi! Feels so good!” The boy gasped, Petra tried and failed to keep from imagining him bouncing up and down on the mattress, hair splayed out around his head like a halo.

“Oh, baby, mhn, you’re so- Fuck!” Levi hissed, she could practically see his head thrown back in ecstasy.

She should walk away, she’d lost! Why couldn’t she just accept it and-

“Levi! I’m so close, a-ah, don’t stop!”

“Eren, Eren, oh hell…!”

She had to see it with her own eyes, she couldn’t accept it otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to snap out of her fantasy if she didn’t.

She found the door was unlocked, a blunder made in their passion most likely, and slowly, quietly peeked in, only enough to see.

See Levi hunched over Eren as the boy was jerked up and down across the bed, the raven plowing relentlessly as they both moaned and grunted at the feeling, the clash of dark tan against pale white, Eren absolutely helpless to do much more than hang on to his older lover’s shoulders and beg for release.

She could feel the tears running down her face at the way they never stopped looking into one another’s eyes.

“I’m- I’m going to-” Eren was trying so hard to speak, so lost in pleasure,

“Let go, cum for me!” Levi ordered,

Eren obeyed, with roll of his head and a long, sultry moan.

Sending Eren over must have triggered Levi as well, as his thrusts lost all rhythm and he instead shoved and pulled his hips in reckless abandon, riding out what could only be his own orgasm.

All at once, they collapsed against each other, breathing heavily as sweat glistened on their bodies. Eren absentmindedly stroked Levi’s hair as the man laid his head on the boy’s chest.

“I love you, so much, Levi.” The brunette cooed.

“I love you, I`m never going to let anyone take you away from me, Eren.” Levi panted back.

Petra stood their, frozen in her pretty dress and ruined make up, she didn’t know how long she stayed there, tears running down her face, a hand clutching the doorknob until her knuckles went white.

She didn’t move until a snore reached her ears and snapped her out of it. She shakily opened the door further, just enough to see her meticulously prepared letter laying forgotten right where she’d left it in front of the door. As Eren shifted slightly in his sleep, she quickly snatched it up and shut the door silently.

Her breath was heavy as she tore her way back to her room. The moment she entered, she viciously ripped her letter apart, near screaming with every new tear.

She ripped off her dress, and ran a rough hand across her face to get rid of the make up she had ruined already. She threw herself into her pillows, she was such a fool! How could she have blinded herself so much? To try and disregard the undying love in Levi’s eyes when he looked at Eren? How childish was she to turn on the poor boy who had done nothing wrong? To try and sabotage the happiness they shared?

She couldn’t believe herself.

Petra felt her heart breaking, felt her resolve finally crumble.

She was such a fool indeed.

E♡L

Breakfast was a bustling affair as always, and Petra was glad to blend into the background. Once again, the starry eyed couple was huddled together at their own little corner of the table, talking about who knew what.

Petra sat in near Eren, offering a chipper good morning to her comrades and digging into her meal, which apparently Eren had cooked up today.

“This is great, Eren!” She praised, as she didn’t know bread could be crisp and soft at the same time!

It was the first thing she’d said to him in weeks.

Eren was stunned for a few seconds, before a bright smile broke out on his face. “Thanks Petra!”

“Hey Petra, you okay? You look like shit.” Levi stated.

She really did, with her puffy red eyes and blotchy face.

She smiled sadly at their interlocked hands upon the tabletop.

“I’m just fine.”

And she was.

You’ve Got Something Just There

Originally posted by alyciadubnamcarey

A/N: This isn’t great but I had to, I genuinely couldn’t help myself. This is based off two (anon) asks someone sent @beronica-love because oh my god. I love them so much.

Summary: The Lodge’s are having issues with their car and Betty is unexpectedly skilled and willing to help 

Word Count:1,690

Warnings: NONE they are perfECT, my only warning is that they’re both perfect just in general

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