answer fail

Chasing Hope

Summary: “If I ask you to name all the things you love, how long will it take for you to name yourself?” A story on finding hope, forgiveness and love in a world they never imagined they would survive. Post-MJ. Previously


A/N I know it is not the weekend but nonetheless, enjoy this weekday update (bc I am excited for you to read chap 9 next weekend!) :)

8. The Monster Wakes

“I still get nightmares. In fact, I get them so often I should be used to them by now. I’m not. No one ever really gets used to nightmares.” Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

Despite Peeta’s openly curious look, Haymitch dropped on the chair without a word.

“Well?” Peeta prompted when nothing was forthcoming.

“It went fine,” he muttered an answer which, to Effie, failed to shed light on the situation.

“You sure? Then where’s Katniss?”

“Gone. She needed to clear her head, get some air.”

“So it did not go as well as expected,” Effie lamented, peering at him.

“Were we expecting the meeting with her mother to even go well?” Haymitch snapped before he let out a breath when he saw the indignant look on Effie’s face. Effie did nothing wrong and she shouldn’t have to bear the brunt of it. “Sorry,” he muttered. “It went… It was…”

Keep reading

The number of messages I’ve failed to answer across all my devices and media platforms will be weighed against my soul on judgment day, and I will be cast into hell

7

deleted scene from x men first class

(insp.)

bonus:

what you gon do now charl

anonymous asked:

How about Smol Tony tryin to reach things on high shelves and Bucky and tchalla fighting over who can get things for him. They get so distracted fighting that they don't notice Tony just using his armor's boots to hover and get the damn thing himself

Holy shit, I adore you! <3 This is a thing of beauty!!! And so fluffy :D

Just imagine the two of them almost falling over themselves trying to help Tony out. It’s not that they don’t think he can get the sugar on his own, alright, it’s just that nothing ever prepares them for smol Tony, stumbling through the kitchen wearing one of Bucky’s washed out sweaters that slips down on one shoulder and the tinkling anklets T’Challa gave him on their six month anniversary, nothing ever prepares them for the pureness of their boyfriend when he doesn’t feel like putting on a mask.

And it wasn’t supposed to be a contest at first, but then Bucky gives T’Challa a playful shove and T’Challa narrows his eyes and pulls out his feet from under him and suddenly there’s an all-out war going on in the kitchen.

Meanwhile Tony is still standing in front of the shelf, tapping his foot against the ground. He’s given up jumping now, he doesn’t even know why he still bothers to try, and is decidedly unimpressed by his boyfriends’ antics. He gives them another minute, but when the first dish breaks, he decides enough is enough. 

He clicks his heels together–and so what if a certain movie served as an inspiration–activating the boots and slowly floats up to get the damn sugar himself. It’s a bit shakier than when he has the repulsors in his hands for added stabilisation, but he makes it. Takes one look at his grown up boyfriends–who haven’t even noticed–steps around their fighting forms with a derisive sniff and gets to work.

In the background, Peter is filming the entire thing, but he’s laughing so hard the video is too shaky to be of any worth.

FightWrite: Your Killers Need to Kill

Killers need to kill. It’s surprising how many writers ignore this very specific and important piece of the ones they claim are killers, heartless or not. Sometimes, there’s a difference between the character we describe in the text and the actions the character takes. An author can tell me over and over that a character is a deadly and dangerous person who strikes ruthlessly without mercy, but if they don’t behave that way in the actual story then I’m not going to buy it.

Show versus tell: the difference between who the author says the character is and the actions the character takes in the story. Especially if the actions counteract the description. Now, you do have characters who lie, characters who misrepresent themselves, characters who say one thing and do another, but these are not the characters we’re talking about. This is about ensuring that you, the author, know the character you are writing. Unless you’re hiding their habits, let us glimpse the worst they’re capable of.

Monster. I could tell Jackson I was a monster, but he wouldn’t believe me. He saw a strawberry blonde, five feet eleven inches. A waitress, a Pilates nut, not a murderer. The nasty scar across my slim waist that I’d earned when I was ten? He thought I’d gotten it from a mugging at twenty one. Just as a natural layer of womanly fat hid away years of physical conditioning, I hid myself behind long hair, perky makeup, and a closet full of costumes bought from Macy’s and Forever 21. To him, I was Grace Johnson. The woman who cuddled beside him in bed, the woman who hogged the sheets, who screamed during horror movie jump scares, the woman who forgot to change the toilet paper, who baked cookies every Saturday morning, the woman who sometimes wore the same underwear three days in a row. The woman he loved.

No, I thought as I studied his eyes. Even with a useless arm hanging at my side, elbow crushed; my nose smashed, blood coursing down from the open gash in my forehead, a bullet wound in my shoulder, Sixteen’s gun in my hand, the dining room table shattered, and his grandmother’s China scattered across the floor. He’d never believe Grace Johnson was a lie. Not until I showed him, possibly not even then. Not for many more years to come. Probably, I caught my mental shrug, if he lives.

“Grace,” Jackson said. “Please…” The phone clattered the floor, his blue eyes wide, color draining from his lips. “This isn’t you.”

Gaze locking his, I levered Sixteen’s pistol at her knee.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Morrison will take you in, he’ll fix this.” Her voice cracked, almost a sob. For us, a destroyed limb was a death sentence. Once, we swore we’d die together. Now, she can mean it. “Thirteen, if you run then there’s no going back.”

My upper lip curled. “You don’t know me.” I had no idea which one I was talking to. “You never did.”

My finger squeezed the trigger.

Sixteen grunted, blood slipping down her lip. In the doorway, Jackson screamed.

Do it and mean it. Let it be part of their character development, regardless of if which way you intend to go. In the above example, there’s a dichotomy present between the character of Thirteen and her cover Grace Johnson. There’s some question, even for the character, about which of them they are. It sets up a beginning of growth for the character as she runs, but it also fails to answer what will be the central question in the story: who am I? Which way will I jump?

If Thirteen doesn’t kill Sixteen, if the scene answers the question at the beginning then why would you need to read the story?

Below the cut, we’ll talk about some ways to show their struggles.

-Michi

Keep reading

Langst?

In case you guys didn’t know, there is a Voltron comic book with stuff that isn’t exactly in the show.

In chapter 5, Pidge is tested to beat the universal sphinx. She “fails” to answer a riddle (the riddle could have different answers) so they have to form Voltron in order to defeat it. The sphinx accepts defeat (saying they change it so that no one can win) and says “It’s pathetic really.”

Then Lance replies “I’ll say” in which the sphinx says “Hey, I saw into your mind. Do we really want to get into who’s more pathetic than whom?”

Then Lance says “Nevermind”

I’m not saying that Langst is even more canon… buT LANGST IS EVEN MORE CANON AND I WONT STAND FOR IT!

5

Remember when BamBam fucked up the kimchi stew & JB got mad and started questioning BamBam’s receipt like he was fucking Gordon Ramsay then got frustrated when BamBam failed to answer his question correctly and was 5 seconds away from beating him because he was just that hungry.

Dark Headcannon

The Immortal Fakes buying a farm and setting it up for a real life Dead by Daylight scenario. Spending time and money to wire up generators that once their required number is met will allow the doors to open, sometimes for those they only want to scare it only takes one, for those they want to punish it could take up to ten. Fog machines and flares set into the ground, the sharp smell of blood and decay from the slaughter house Ryan sets up in the middle with fresh pigs and occasionally a hung corpse. 

Gavin setting up an army of camera’s, night vision, motion sensors, speakers -you name it he has it - so they can observe the fun when someone is let loose with the hostages. Sometimes he plays music other times the watches strapped to their wrists will vibrate when the hunter is near. 

The watches function as instructions for the hostages, it tell them if someone is hooked, how many generators they need, if they’ve opened a door and If the trapdoor is activated.

The trap door is special.

In more ways than one. It is one of only two ways to be spared and there is always one of two people waiting for you at the bottom. Geoff with a sharp smile, a drink in hand he’ll greet you by name and ask “what have we learned?” If you fail to answer he’ll get in close and whisper right in your ear “never cross me again.” Then you wake up at home, wounds treated but forever living in fear of that place, of the Fakes. Sometimes it’s Jack - if Geoff has had his turn on the hunt, she won’t speak but she’ll have a medkit and a look of disappointment. When you wake up to your horror you are back on the farm, this time you have a medkit or a flashlight or maybe lunch and three other confused horrified people beside you because the trapdoor is a trap and you fell for it. 

Sometimes when they’re feeling particularly cruel they’ll send Gavin or Ryan in as a “hostage” make it look like they’ve been there for days. Get them to amp up the fear and die horribly in somebody’s arms, only to be waiting on the other side of an exit with a wicked smile and a gun. Because even if you make it out the exits the only way you get to live is if you played well - if you went back for an innocent or a crew mate. Those that hide and survive until the end don’t get to walk out alive.

Imagine Ryan and Jeremy perfecting their killer persona’s for this place, not Rimmy or the Vagabond but something darker bloodier. Geoff’s out of his mind giggling as he whittles it down to one last terrified person. Michael who loves when they fight back - even more when someone kills him and he gets to come back and sing song “where are you?” Jack’s utter silence and almost tender care when she whispers for them to hush just as she takes them down. Gavin who rarely plays but when he does it’s with a viscous sort of glee and he always, always has Rye or Michael stalking about -not playing but to torment and chase.

Sometimes when someone has given them a particularly good game they post the video online, or play it on the screens of the bank their in the middle of heisting as a tribute or an intimidation tactic.

Very few sent to the farm see daylight once more and those that do live in fear of the thing they witness pulling people into the sky of the screams of the hooked and eerie spider like legs and the whispered voices of those hunting them.

Experiment #4 - Request

Requested by: you know the sinners.

Summary: Sherlock and reader hold a Series of Experiments in which they test out several smutty theories with practise. Who thought science would be so fun?

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Word count: 2,973

Warnings: Rough smut - un-protected, over-stimulation, oral, fingering.

A/N: Dear lord from Heaven, please forgive me.

Enjoy!

Originally posted by estherlune

| One | Two | Three |

“(Y/N),” Sherlock called, “I need you to hand me the silver knife inside of the freezer, please.”

“I’m literally at the other side of London!” She argued through the phone.

“Oh, don’t worry, there’s no hurry.” She hung up and Sherlock breathed out a laugh as he placed his phone at the tiny coffee table by his side.

“You really think she’s coming?”

“Of course she is. She never fails.” Sherlock answered confidently, and then both of them waited patiently for her arrival.

Keep reading

endingthemes replied to your post: Music MemeTagged by the sweet cinnamon…

so i was going through nodding my head at the cherik-ness of this list until i saw the real slim shady and now the image of rapper!charles will not leave my mind lol

oM G

(here’s the song)

RUDE

Tessellate

Tom Holland x Reader x Harrison Osterfield

Summary: You, Tom and Harrison are in quite the predicament when you unexpectedly meet your best friends other best friend. Sometimes, interests can overlap. Part one of three.

Word Count: 4,821

Warnings: cursing

A/N: well guys, remember like six months ago when i asked if anyone wanted a Tom and Harrison love triangle? this is it. 


Harrison’s apartment number stands right in front of you, a glistening silver number on an otherwise smooth white door. You wonder how exactly he’s able to stay in a cushy place like this for only a couple of weeks while he does something-or-other in Manhattan.

You thought about asking him, but his door opens, the rush of air making you shiver. Harrison stares at you with wide eyes for a moment, taking in your soaking wet figure. It’s uncomfortable, being under his gaze like that, even though you’ve been friends for years.

“Are you just going to stare at me, or can I come in?” you blurted, walking by him without waiting for an answer. He seems to regain his senses about thirty seconds later, closing the door and sliding over to you.

Keep reading