and-of-course-this-was-taken-before-the-opening

Okay, so “A Bloodsmoor Romance” is kind of weird and nothing like what I was expecting.

Like with all of the other books I’ve been reading from my book list, I didn’t do any research beforehand. I judged by the cover (the title, actually) and I was expecting a straightforward love story.

The story opens with a girl running away/being kidnapped, slowly revealing (over the course of several chapters) the events of the day leading up to this event. So far, there’s no word on who has taken her (their only clue is a hot air balloon) or what has happened to her. The focus of the story jumps between several of the family members, giving histories of their lives before the kidnapping and following their lives after the kidnapping.

I’m about a third of the way through the 600+ pager, and I have no idea what to expect from the rest of it. The weirdest moments so far were when one of the daughters’ new husband consummated their marriage with a dress mannequin, mistaking it for his bride; and reading about how the girls’ father, in his younger days, invented a time machine and his twelve-year-old student sent himself forward and backward in time, turning himself into an infant before disintegrating in the man’s arms.

What is this book?

Close Your Eyes (Part 1: Bucky Barnes x reader)

20 (I don’t think I can stop thinking about you) with Bucky

Angst, of course.

Your best friend stood before you, dressed in his formal uniform with crisp seams and folds, the material hugging his newly developed muscles to show every outline of the man newly known as Captain America.  He was the picture of health and vitality now; a definitive contrast to the smaller frame and sickly form he had taken since you had met him years ago. He stood in your doorway with his jaw set and his normally shining blue eyes gazing upon you with a dullness and lack of reflection that aged him and made him feel so distant that he seemed unreachable.  Steve opened his mouth to speak after the uncomfortable silence became too much, but stopped, reaching into his coat for a crumpled envelope that he extended towards you with a tremulous hand.


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Servant of a God

Ellery sighed, leaning his back against the cold, stone wall and sliding down until he sat curled up on the floor. It had been a long day, cleaning Loki’s bedchamber, washing, drying and folding his clothes, and of course polishing his armour. The whole ordeal had taken hours upon hours, and he was exhausted. He gazed up at the ceiling, dark and impossibly high, though he knew in truth it was only slightly more than seven metres tall. Another of Loki’s little spells, to give his quarters their beautiful, otherworldly feeling.

He didn’t expect Loki to return for at least another hour, so let his head fall back and his eyes close, and before long he slipped into a light sleep. Ellery stayed that way for a few minutes, his breaths soft and deep, and of course he didn’t hear a thing as the door opened.

Open Starter: Asylum AU

Cecil sighed softly as she waited for her visitor to be brought in. After having been very stressed out for a long time, she had finally broke down during work and began spouting nonsense about what she claimed was Night Vale. Of course, Night Vale is just an average town and not a place where some “Glow Cloud” or “Hooded Figures” lived. So she was taken to the asylum the afternoon before.

As her visitor entered the room, she looked up at them with a hopeful expression in her eyes. “I’m not crazy! You believe me, don’t you??”

Natasha: Wow! You win, Steve— my work for SHIELD has taken me all over the world… and that is, without a doubt, not just the best milk shake in Brooklyn… but on the whole darn planet.
Steve: Told you. There’s a reason this place has been open since I was a kid— way back before World War Two. Of course, in those days the malteds were just a nickel…
Natasha: And you had to walk uphill both ways to go to school, right?

From Captain America: Homecoming by Fred Van Lente and Tom Grummet.

Ghosts of Tsunami Victims Being Picked Up by Japanese Taxi Drivers

According to several news reports, a recent study interviewing taxi drivers about their strange taxi-driving experiences found that at least 7 claimed to have picked up a ghostly passenger.  Since all of the incidents took place in areas that were hit by the 2011 Tsunami disaster, and reports have all taken place after the event, drivers are assuming that the passengers were victims of the Tsunami.  In all of the stories, the drivers open the door for the passengers and ask them where they are going.  After receiving vague or strange responses the driver begins the trip, only to turn around at some point to address the passenger, and notice that they have completely vanished. A few of the drivers have said that they arrived at the destination, and when they turned around the passenger asked “Am I dead?” before disappearing before their very eyes.  Of course there are a variety of different theories surrounding these reports, either disproving or supporting the claims.  However, no one can deny that the stories themselves help to keep our world spooky.

(You can read several of the complete and original reports here:

http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/world-news/horrified-cabbies-pick-up-ghost-7293766

http://news.discovery.com/human/psychology/taxi-drivers-claim-ghost-passengers-in-japan-160209.htm

http://www.fox35orlando.com/fast-five/88180226-story)

[Medieval/Fantasy AU Starter for Bloodstxnes] Menace

Victor had been hunting in the woods for a century without being disturbed too much. There was the occasional hunter or woodsman he had killed or driven out of his territory, but that had only sparked the legend of the ‘Beast of Alberta’ which most there believed to be a werewolf or maybe a forest guardian of sorts.

In truth the renowned beast was a mutant, completely lost in his feral nature due to having been shunned out of his home as a child. But with time the unease about the beast rose and finally the citizens of Alberta contacted an equally renowned hunter to catch the beast for public display or if needed kill it.

Of course, local hunters had tried before, but well.. 

They were now bony decorations in the cave Victor had settled into. It was a nicely sized cave that he had taken from an old black bear. There was a small stream of clear mountain water running through it and there was a tiny opening in the ‘ceiling’ of the cave that let in a small ray of light. The sun was rising and it was time for the large predator to sleep. He hunted in the dark, where his vision gave him a huge advantage.

Title: Sharing
Fandom: Carmilla
Pairing: Carmilla x Laura
Sum: Laura finally confronts Carmilla about the pillow.
Notes: I finally watched Carmilla, so of course the first thing I do is fic. If you haven’t yet then you really should.

Laura is used to her pillow being taken, it doesn’t even bother her anymore honestly. It does make her curious though. Every time she takes it back, the second she looks away it winds up back on Carmilla’s bed, and she wants to know why.

It happens three more times before Laura finally asks.

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Throwback to when I first met Dave Grohl. This was sometime around 1999 at a friend’s wedding in Catalina. I was about 20, but still looked like I was 15. I had worn out those first 2 foo fighters records, and of course nirvana before that, and the foos were my favorite band of that time, so meeting him was a huge deal. About 5 years later we had the chance to open for them, something I would’ve never dreamed was possible when this picture was taken. He is one of the more down to earth rockstars you’ll ever meet, truly an American rock legend. His footprint on rock music has been massive. #tbt

(X)

wandering

Smee hummed as he pulled the strap for the sack over his shoulder, stepping off of the ship. He’d been so busy lately helping out the captain that he hadn’t taken any time to actually roam. Of course, that wasn’t his duty. With extra time on his hands though and all of his assignments done, he let himself walk onto the hot sand and across the beach. His eyes were on the sky as he smiled, taking in how nice of a day it was before he felt himself bump into someone. He immediately threw his arms out in front of him to try to catch them, speaking quickly. “Sorry, sorry! I really need to watch where I’m going, I know. One of my bad habits, that. Are you okay then?”

What the new One Direction press shot tells us about the band’s future

Niall:
Where to begin? The chest hair of civil dissent? The open shirt in high-street plaid? Niall isn’t going anywhere. He knows the hand that feeds him, because it’s the same hand that removed his mug of tea seconds before this picture was taken and explains why he hasn’t dare move it since.

Liam: To many of you, Liam’s Topman denim waistcoat indicates a potential move into late 1980s stadium rock. Or, that he’s secretly become a father and isn’t coping with the transition very well. The truth, of course, is that it’s a metaphor for his massive, stonewashed-denim broken heart.

Harry: Continuing with his efforts to move The Brand forward, Harry Styles has relaunched himself as a City banker and is now exclusively wearing Thomas Pink. With the addition of his John Taylor hair, the whole look suggests he’s flagging up grand plans to move into Tory politics. [NB: Duran Duran are considered a super-Tory band.]

Louis: At 23, and as the oldest member, Louis is hurtling towards retirement – so the fact that his Craig Green-esque, fawn, long-line jumper also resembles a straitjacket is more than a coincidence. It’s also worth noting the expression of resignation. Clearly, we’re days away.

[article]

A Little bit of Mayhem || Rosemary & ((Open))

Honestly, Rosemary wasn’t sure why it had taken her so long to get to New York City.  Oh, she’d been there before, of course.  She and Annalise had terrorized the town many times over in the past century.  But since she’d been on her own, and actually staying places for more than a few months, she hadn’t been back.  She’d been in Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Dallas, New Orleans…and now New York City 

And what better way to christain a new playground than with a night out? Rose thought to herself as she strode across the admittedly dingy lobby to her new apartment building, stiletto heels clipping neatly against the floor.  She paused in the entryway, considering.  She could go check out some of the old haunts, but it had been so long…  The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted her thoughts, and Rose turned to face the newcomer with an automatic grin curling her lips.  “‘Scuse me, but where’s the best place for a gal to get a drink around here?”

creature-of-night-time

 The path she walked on was dark and covered in plants. She wouldn’t have even known where it was had she not been walking the path for years on end, before nature had taken it’s course and covered the path with life. Glowing, yellow irises were all that kept the path in front of her lit up, assuring that she would be getting where she wanted to be. 

 Her steps remained constant, not being stopped by even the toughest of vines that got caught on her boots. Radio soon saw the opening of the clearing ahead, the excitement flooding into her mind only making the glow of her eyes brighter. Stepping out of the forest and into the circular clearing, she was rather surprised to see someone else there, at the forest opposite from hers. Her eyes shut off, leaving her surrounded by darkness which, in all honesty, was what she was aiming for. Looking up, she finally saw what she’d been looking for: stars. It’d become her favorite thing to look at over the years, and though she had to travel miles to get away from city lights, it was almost always worth it.

 Looking back down, she felt some shock and confusion flood into her system as she could no longer spot the figure from across the clearing. Was she supposed to be feeling fear? She felt like she was, yet it wasn’t coming to just yet. She’d wonder if the emotion had broken as she took a few steps toward the other trees, deciding to speak through her radio so anyone within a mile could hear her words. “Where’d you go, figure? Are you alright?”

all my beliefs start caving in

“So Holtz, despite being an amazing girlfriend, was still somewhat of an enigma to Erin…She didn’t, of course, even know her parents.”

Or- That One Where Holtz Has a Dead Mom and Hasn’t Told Erin

Read below or on ao3 

Erin was always somewhat taken aback about how secretive Holtz was about her private life. As somebody who came off as so brash and candid, she was surprisingly slow to open up and often gave the vaguest possible answers to any questions about her life before the ghostbusters, muttering and waving her hands in a way that conveyed clearly that she wasn’t up for talking about it, whatever “it” was.

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(Submitted to someone who would rather remain anonymous, but posting here for posterity, and to share with everyone!)

Ed couldn’t believe—the guy had /fainted./ The really hot, cocky, suave, confident asshole that sat two seats over and three seats up from Ed—just the right spot to be fucking /distracting,/ with how he chewed on his pens—had taken one look at the open patient on the operating table and keeled right on over.

This, of course, had left Ed, as the other med student in the room, to get him over to the side room that they, apparently, kept for such purposes. (“Happens all the time to first-timers,” one of the nurses told Ed, unconcerned. “Get him through there and watch through the window.”)

It wasn’t too long before the guy—Roy, Ed remembered, finally—groaned, eyes fluttering open. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings, and closed his eyes again. “I fainted again, didn’t I?”

“A—/again?/ This has happened before?”

“It’s the blood,” Roy sighed, reaching up to pull his surgical mask off, a resigned expression on his very pretty face. “I thought I could handle it, but…”

“Wh—the fuck are you in medical school for, then, if you’re afraid of blood?!”

“I’ve gotten better!” Roy’s expression brightened, and Ed tugged his own mask off—the better to argue with. “I saw someone get stitches the other day, and I didn’t faint!”

Ed groaned, covering his face. “Well, I hope you get used to it soon. Unless you wanna be a radiologist or somethin’.

"Nonsense. Surgeon or bust.”

Ed scoffed. “Yeah, good luck justifying that one after what happened in there.”

“Oh, I’m not worried. I’ll just tell them that your breathtaking beauty stunned me to the point where I lost consciousness.”

Ed’s jaw dropped—what was a snarky retort to /that?/

Roy was smirking now. “Edward, right? Infectious diseases?”

“How did you—”

“You mentioned it in class. I pay attention to people I intend to ask out for coffee.”

“You're—are you asking me out for coffee in the middle of surgery?!”

“Yes, I am.”

Un fucking believable. “Tell you what. The day you sit through a surgery without gettin’ squeamish, /that’s/ the day I’ll go get a coffee with you.”

(It was two years before Roy got that coffee, but after the kiss afterwards, Ed decided that the wait was totally worth it.) ~The Royed Fairies

Imagine your OTP being voted cutest couple in their high school yearbook, and they’re not even dating (of course that’s how they get together)

Arya had gotten three variations of ‘congrats’ on her way to lunch, by the third she finally asked the girl “For what?” and got a page number in response. When she finally made it to the table she shared with Gendry, Hot Pie, and Weasel, she dug out the yearbook that was handed out in 3rd hour. She quickly turned to page 40, briefly saw the headline was “The Votes Are In” before her eyes were drawn to an image of Gendry and herself, taken before the homecoming dance. Underneath was the caption, “Voted Cutest Couple!” her mouth dropped open, she didn’t even know they were being voted on!

Her gaze snapped up, to find all three of her table companions looking at her with mixtures of apprehension and confusion. “What the hell is this?” she asked, jabbing the image with her index finger. “We’re not even dating?! And they totally cut out the rest of the group for this photo!” It was true, you could even see a bit of arm on the other side of Arya in the photo, she thought it belonged to Hot Pie. “And how’d they even get this picture?”

Gendry tugged the book out of her hands to take a look himself, and judging by the eyebrow raise, she guessed he hadn’t known about it either, but she was surprised at the blush that also followed. Great, he was embarrassed at just the thought of dating her, she knew he would never see her like that.

“Um.” piped up Weasel, “I gave it to them.”

Both she and Gendry looked over at her, and she at least had the decency to look chagrinned. “Why?” Gendry asked, he didn’t look mad, but it was hard to stay mad at Weasel.

“Well, I just thought, you two needed, a, ahh.” She paused, glancing at Hot Pie almost for help, when none came she finished, “a push, is all.”

Arya felt her cheeks start to warm, “What’d you mean by that?” she asked quickly, refusing to look over at Gendry.

Weasel’s faced turned from embarrassed to exasperated, “Seriously? You guys have been dancing around each other all year! The UST was killing me.”

Whatever warmth had started in her cheeks had turned into a full blown fire at this. When she looked over at Gendry, expecting him to deny it, all she saw was an equally red face, staring back at her.

He drew out an, “Uhhhh.” Before falling silent. He just looked at her for a moment before continuing, “I mean, she not wrong, on my end at least.”

Her heart skipped a bit at that statement, and a smile came over her face, “Really?” she asked, before stammering on, “Yeah, I mean, me too.”

He ginned a bit stupidly at her, “So, we don’t have to do anything about the yearbook then?”

She shook her head. “Not unless it’s to thank them." 

For delazeur, on her birthday, in the hopes that it gives her even a fraction of the pleasure her writing does me. Inspired by this picture.

Elspeth Trevelyan wasn’t quite sure when she and Dorian had decided that having a bath would be the perfect solution to all their woes.  Sometime after they’d finished the first bottle, she thought (Antivan brandy sent by the eminent Lord Thing-gummyto Josephine, who had been foolish enough to leave it out in the open in heroffice, and which they’d finished surprisingly quickly), but before they’d gone hunting for the bottles of Thedas she’d been collecting in her travels for the Inquisition.  

Dorian’s meeting with his father had left him more shaken than he would admit at first, and when he’d issued the invitation to get drunk accepting it had seemed the very least she could do for him.

She certainly knew all about being rejected by your parents for being what you were.  

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@sirhys // starter.exe

Jack had given Rhys the time he’d wanted to hide away in
his issued apartment, the same dwellings he had as even
a regular Hyperion worker. Sure he could have been given
Jack’s old place, but the penthouse itself had been placed
into the same museum like status up until Jack got his body
back. Not to mention as a series of codes he’d refused to
let Rhys stay there, telling him it’d been locked sealed and
he couldn’t even open it. A lie of course, but what did it
matter now? Jack was back and all that was his was
returning to his.

                    Mostly.

Though in the moment part of him wished he’d at least gave
the kid the idea of taking an apartment much higher in 
stature and closer to his. This walk had been boring, exhausting
and overall annoying with how many people he passed. So it
had taken him a few rather long moments before finally buzzing
the apartment he stood outside of. And it took even a moment
longer to make his annoyed expression turn soft. He had to make
this seem realistic after all. An apology was no good when you 
looked pissed even if it wasn’t meant to be a true one.

You’ll survive, but you might wish you hadn’t.

Roger had heard that before. And rolled his eyes and made some snarking remark. Of course you’d want to survive. Right?

He was starting to get the meaning of it though. Between two gun shot wounds to his chest - both of which hit his lung, the surgeries to repair them, the beat down he’d taken at the hands of some of the other paranormals, and the physical toll being improperly brought out of cryostatus…he was pretty sure being hit by a Mac truck after being shot twice would leave him feeling better.

Not to mention the various drugs Marla kept injecting him with to deal with those complications. Which, much as he hated it, included narcotics.  To be honest he’d rather her be doping him with Risperdal, at least then he’d only be sleeping twenty hours a day, not dealing with his powers being jammed up.

And unable to tell who was in the house.

And unable to grab his drink or the remote off the far end of the coffee table and how did they even get there?

“I can hear you in the kitchen, who are you?” At least his speech didn’t seem that slurred but god he didn’t want to have to sit up. He’d just gotten comfortable.

Bag’s in the River

Originally posted by toomanyfireflies

It was done.  They had gone through Hell and found out where Sei had gone and what had happened to her.  They paid the Ferryman for safe passage to an island where a temple lay, though it disappears when the tide rises.  They didn’t have much time to get their information, and to get it they had to pay.

A memory was taken, a promise broken, and proof was taken for proof.  Seilaran had asked her own questions and traded 3 of her own items, a silken ribbon, proof of love lost and the most dear of all…her life.  They got out before the tide came and they would have been trapped.  They went back to Dalaran and for the whole night, Razail weep over what was taken from him, and one of his friends had stayed by his side.  Like a guard dog watching over him, protecting him from re-opening the holes in his face over course of the night.

The next day they would bring their news back to the Ranger-Captain and then to the man that had called for aid in the search, the Sentinel.  Razail only mentioned to the man he had paid proof for proof and nothing more.  Why tell the man that just found out their missing family member had died, that to bring proof it cost his proof to find and be with his family.

His heart hurts as he made his way back to see if his partner was home, though still afraid of being with him.  It was probably the better choice, as if he went to be on his own right now, he may have tried to re-open his cheeks again as that, to him, is his only proof the night his parents died was real.


Tagging tagging…yup…about it.
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