any day any time any where

colorful headcanons.
  • ( send me a copic color for a headcanon )
  • frost blue: does your muse enjoy the snow and cold? or are they the type to enjoy summer more?
  • peacock blue: is your muse honest? what sorts of lies do they tell, if not?
  • lapis lazuli: does your muse prefer the idea of exploring the depths of the oceans, or the boundless expanses of space more?
  • reddish brass: how likely is your muse to step up and take the role of a leader? are they willing to take the challenge, or are they more apt to being a follower?
  • burnt umber: how stable is your muse, mentally and/or emotionally?
  • champagne: does your muse drink (alcohol)? are they a heavy drinker, if so?
  • tea orange: what is something that your muse is fascinated with?
  • malachite: has your muse ever done anything that they winded up feeling incredibly guilty for in the end?
  • olive: is your muse prone to feeling envious of others? if yes, what is it that they typically feel envious over?
  • vermillion: is your muse courageous, or would they consider themselves to be more of a coward?
  • coral: what is your muse's romantic and sexual orientations?
  • bougainvillaea: would your muse consider themselves as blunt, or do they beat around the bush instead?
  • currant: what's something that absolutely disgusts your muse (can be a person, place, thing, ect)?
  • crimson: how passionate is your muse about the things they love most?
  • raspberry: what food and/or drink can your muse not get enough of? do they indulge in it often, or is it something reserved for special occasions?
  • baby blossoms: does your muse have a favorite scent? what is it, and why?
  • mallow: what sorts of things might remind your muse of those close to them? any scents, objects, sounds?
  • aubergine: does your muse prefer the day, or are they more of a night-owl?
  • acacia: how much does it take for your muse to hate someone?
  • cadmium yellow: what subjects or topics does your muse avoid, because they bring up harmful / painful memories?
  • honey: when your muse loves someone (whether it be romantic, platonic, or familial love), how do they show it?
  • chartreuse: if you had to describe your muse with a color, what color would it be and why?
  • anise: when it comes to self-care, what does your muse do to take care of themselves? do they take care to spend time on it, or do they feel they don't deserve it?
  • new leaf: what message would your muse send to their past self, if any?
  • moss: how easily does your muse adapt to any new situations they're thrust into?
  • silk: does your muse care about appearances much? do they spend a lot of time on their own appearance, or do they just go with the flow each day?
  • sanguine: does your muse typically have an optimistic, pessimistic, or some middle ground outlook on life?
  • atoll: if your muse could go anywhere, without any restrictions whatsoever, where would they go? why would they go there?
  • cool grey: if your muse could ensure one thing for certain in their future to come, what would it be?
  • black: does your muse have a 'bucket list?' list some things your muse wants to accomplish before they die.

but it’s like-
the night throbs in my veins sometimes
and i don’t know what to do with this energy?
it isn’t my heart, no, not that, not anything known,
but it flows like blood would and i want to leap out of the window-
i want to meet the stars / i want to tell them that the night
isn’t the darkest place that i’ve been but even when i’m there
somehow starlight still guides me.

l.s. | it flows like blood would © 2017

Panic! at the Inbox: Pretty. Odd. Edition

We’re So Starving: What was the last thing you ate?

Nine In The Afternoon: When do you usually sleep/wake up?

She’s A Handsome Woman: What famous person do you find the most aesthetically pleasing?

Do You Know What I’m Seeing?: Describe the weather where you are right now.

That Green Gentleman [Things Have Changed]: How are you different from how you were 2 years ago?

I Have Friends In Holy Spaces: Have you met any famous people? Who?

Northern Downpour: When was the last time you cried?

When The Day Met The Night: Do you prefer sunset or sunrise?

Pas De Cheval: If you could have any animal for a pet, what would you pick?

The Piano Knows Something I Don’t Know: Do you play any instruments?

Behind The Sea: What was your last dream?

Folkin’ Around: Would you say you have a regional accent? If so, what kind?

She Had The World: If you could go anywhere in the world during any period of time, where would you go?

From A Mountain In The Middle Of The Cabins: Ever been camping? Did you like it?

Mad As Rabbits: What does “reinvent love” mean to you?

20 Questions for Witchy-Folk
  • Flood my ask box, you guys!
  • 1. What would you classify your path as?
  • 2. What deities (if any) do you worship, study, honor, feel drawn to, etc?
  • 3. Is there a particular element you seem to gravitate towards or work with most?
  • 4. Is there an element you work with the least?
  • 5. Are there any paths, practices or types of magic you are inexperienced, but very interested in?
  • 6. What tools do you use?
  • 7. Do you use altars or shrines?
  • 8. If you celebrate the sabbats, which is your favorite?
  • 9. Have you found any music that relates to your craft or that helps you work and express?
  • 10. If you could live any three places, where would you live?
  • 11. Are you open about your beliefs or are they mostly kept in the broom closet?
  • 12. Have you ever run into any stereotypes or problems relating to your beliefs?
  • 13. Do you have any 'witchy' things you do daily?
  • 14. Is there a particular time you prefer to work? (Night, day, dusk, dawn, seasons, am, pm, etc.)
  • 15. Do you work with others, by yourself, or sort of a mix?
  • 16. If there was one thing you could change or have happen in the craft community, what would it be (if anything)?
  • 17. Do you work with plants? If so, how do you use them? Do you grow your own or buy them? Fresh, dried?
  • 18. Any familiars?
  • 19. Are there any quotes, lyrics, poems or passages from a book that resonate with you in regards to your craft?
  • 20. Is there anything in particular you study or know a lot about?




The purpose of this blog/event is for all fans of Ninjago to come together and countdown the days till the theatrical release of The LEGO NINJAGO Movie.  Keep in mind this is a fanmade blog/event and is no way affiliated with LEGO or the production of the movie. 

This blog/event will be fully active on September 1st where I will start posting drawings related to the prompts listed above.  It’s just a way to get really hyped up for the film!  

Remember you can post any of the prompts from any day at any time. So if you only wanna do a few prompts you can!  Or you can choose not to follow the prompts and be your own person! ANYWAY YOU WANT!  The point is to have fun before the release of the film!  

Tag all posts as #countdown2ninjago and @countdown2ninjago will reblog all the entries!

I look forward to seeing all the amazing content the Ninjago fandom will produce for this event!

For more information, please visit the links below

The rules/info 


Twitter/Misc Social Media Participation

If you still have any questions or concerns, feel free to DM me or ask!  I’ll do my best to answer everyone’s questions.  

Headcanon/Scenario: Zen's past and why he's such a gentleman

Those who’ve played Zen’s route know about him running away from home, barely making ends meet, working multiple jobs, and him currently. But here’s something we never got details about: his experiences being in a gang.

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irishforjane  asked:

Andreil - 79

79: That’s the third time I’ve saved your life.

Eight weeks. Andrew had been living in his apartment in relative peace and quiet for eight weeks. There had been no unwanted visitors (aside from a curious cousin who was promptly told to leave at knife point). The only noise had been the humming of his refrigerator; the inconsistent leaky tap in his bathroom, and the occasional murmur of his TV. He could smoke in any room at any time of the day or night. If nightmares didn’t dig their claws into him during the night he could sleep until midday without worrying about being woken by a pestering roommate. He could come and go from his apartment at any hour without receiving a menagerie of texts asking where he was or where he was going or if he could pick something up from the grocery store. He could keep his freezer stuffed with ice cream and ban any vegetables from his kitchen. He could eat a birthday cake at 2 in the morning without argument. Eight weeks of complete freedom and his own company.

He knew it was too good to last.

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white moon

for @lilly-white’s SephGen week​, day 1 -  Apocalypse - Moonlight

behold the sap!

Sephiroth deep in thought, a clear sky illuminated by a full moon: perfect conditions for giving Genesis the urge to recite some poetry.

A hum on his tongue, Genesis swallowed the space between them. Sephiroth turned at the sound, the moon painting some masterpiece on the General’s face. The sumptuous vision made Genesis catch his breath. Sephiroth’s lips turned into a slight smile, he heard it.

Genesis chuckled, the smile made the man even more beautiful. The moonlight highlighted his high cheekbones, shadowing the little imperfections and accentuated the darkness of his long lashes.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

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just gonna gush a little bit here.

I’m in an hella fragile emotional state at current times. (For those who don’t follow my main blog, I lost my job.) I’m either sad or upset or panicked and stressed or just…lost.

But, fuck. Damian is like my guardian spirit, here. He checks on me constantly. Gives me little purrs when I do something right, or just the smallest amount of self-care. Forces me to get out of bed every day, forces me to eat, makes me leave the house. Is able to sense if I’m about to have some sort of breakdown and just climbs into my lap and gives my fingers little kisses. Cuddles even when I know he doesn’t like the positioning/space.

Like, tonight. He was asleep downstairs all hunky dory, and I was upstairs, not really doing much. I could tell my mood was bad, but not like, that bad? But next thing I know he’s next to the bed, chatting away, watching me. When I put my hand down, he came to it (doesn’t normally), let me pick him up from the bed (doesn’t normally), and let me hold him on my tummy (never lets me). Suddenly he started purring and I thought it was because I was petting him. Next thing I know, I’m crying, and he’s licking my eyebrow (where he licks if he can’t reach my fingers). And then he laid next to me, half under the covers, which he HATES, and made sure I kept my focus on him until I calmed down.

Even now, he’s lying right here next to my laptop, another spot he hates, and he’s just. So wonderful. So magical. 

I don’t have a whole lot of good things in my life basically ever, but I am so, so, so forever grateful the fates let me have him. I am in absolute awe every day. 

Meet Up

I’ve been trying to write more of my series but then I had this idea in my head for a while and kept on blocking any new ideas so I had to get it out.

Summary: As a group’s therapist you get to bring the confident side of Bucky, but then he asks for your help in meeting new people - you suggest downloading an app.

Warnings: Innuendos. I have tried to keep this light-hearted and funny.

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: I hope this makes you laugh? Any feedback is always welcome!

Originally posted by eatalotandsleepalot

You and Sam met working at the DVA. After losing his partner, Riley, Sam suffered from a lot of guilt-ridden nightmares and anxiety. That’s when you stepped in. One day you picked up a leaflet in a café which offered free meetings, where one can talk about any personal issues in true confidence and find some help and support. Being the curious person that you were you decided to go. You were studying psychology at the time and you figured any extra experience that can be gained from going to one of those meeting can only help your development, right?

Fast forward a few years – you were now with a degree and a solid friendship with Sam. So strong was the relationship, that he offered you a ‘position’ on the Avengers’ team. The superheroes struggled with their own demons and insecurities, just as much as anyone else, and needed professional support every now and then. Confident in your abilities Sam had arranged for you to move in the Tower and serve as the team psychologist.

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Twin Peaks Season 1 ( Sentence Starters )

  • “She’s dead…wrapped in plastic.”
  • “There are many stories in _____. Some of them are sad, some funny. Some of them are stories of madness, of violence. Some are ordinary. Yet they all have about them a sense of mystery: the mystery of life.”
  • “It is a story of many, but begins with one – and I knew her.”
  • “Never seen so many trees in my life.”
  • “_____, I’ll see you in my dreams.”
  • “_____, I’m holding in my hand a small box of chocolate bunnies.”
  • “That’s what you do in a town where a yellow light still means slow down and not speed up.”
  • “Behind all things are reasons.”
  • “Reasons can even explain the absurd.”
  • “You know, this is – excuse me – a damn fine cup of coffee!”
  • “Black as midnight on a moonless night.”
  • “I hear that you’re real good at what you do.”
  • “Normally, if a stranger walked into my station talking this kind of crap, he’d be looking for his teeth two blocks up.”
  • “You may think I’ve gone insane, but I promise, I will kill again.”
  • “There is a sadness in this world, for we are ignorant of many things.”
  • “Then the day when the sadness comes, we ask: ‘Will this sadness which makes me cry, will this sadness which makes me cry my heart out, will it ever end?’ The answer, of course, is yes.”
  • “Will this sadness which makes me cry, will this sadness which makes me cry my heart out, will it ever end?“
  • “One day the sadness will end.”
  • “Nothing beats the taste sensation when maple syrup collides with ham.”
  • “You’re the most cold-blooded man I’ve ever seen!”
  • “I’ve never in my life met a man with so little regard for human frailty.”
  • “Have you no compassion?”
  • “I just ask you to get the hell out of my way, so that I can finish my work. Is that clear?”
  • “I’ve had just about enough of you and your insults.”
  • “Oh yeah, well I’ve had about enough of morons and half-wits, dolts, dunces, dullards, and dumbells, and you, you chowder-head yokel, you blithering hayseed, you’ve had enough of me?”
  • “He hit me!”
  • “Well, I’m sure he meant to do that.”
  • “Maybe you should have a little talk with _____.”
  • “_____ doesn’t talk, he hits.”
  • “The fire I speak of is not a kind fire.”
  • “You’ll have to excuse me this morning, I’m running late. I only have time for coffee.”
  • “Well maybe I could go with you.”
  • “Wednesdays were traditionally a school day when I was your age.”
  • “I can’t believe you were ever my age.”
  • “What did you see that night?”
  • “_____ wanted to die.”
  • “What else did she tell you? Did she tell you that there was no goodness in the world?”
  • “Every time it got harder to go back up into the light.”
  • “I’m telling you this because I don’t want to have any secrets from you. I don’t want there to be any lies between us.”
  • “It’s the secrets people keep that destroy any chance they have of happiness and I don’t want us to be like that.”
  • “Sometimes when we see the eyes – those horrible times when we see the eyes that have no soul – then we know a darkness.”
  • “Where is the beauty? There is none if the eyes are soulless.”
  • “Do you like to gamble, _____?”
  • “_____, I’m going to let you in on a little secret.”
  • “Every day, once a day, give yourself a present. Don’t plan it, don’t wait for it, just let it happen.”
  • “A present? Like Christmas?”
  • “Ah, man, that hits the spot. Nothing like a great cup of black coffee.”
  • “What’s up, doc?”
  • “Just a few words before I go to sleep.”
  • “I feel like I’m going to dream tonight. Big bad ones.”
  • “That’ll be my little secret, okay?”
  • “I’m going to go down and get us two malts and some fries downstairs. Then I want you to tell me all your troubles.”
  • “That could take all night.”
  • “Now, I’m going to get the food, and you’re going to get dressed.”
  • “I can’t tell you all my secrets.”
  • “Secrets are dangerous things, _____.”
  • “Do you have any secrets?”
  • “_____ had a lot of secrets.”
  • “Finding those out is my job.”

Requests- Like a Romeo and Juliet type forbidden love between Tom and Reader

Where Peter broke up with the reader to protect her, but after he saves her from the Vulture, he apologises and they make up and fluff.

Prompt- “Did you think leaving you was easy? No! It was the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever had to do.”

AN- I got two requests for this prompt and they both gave me an idea, so I’ll use both of them and an idea of my own. 


Originally posted by optimus-grimes

It wasn’t all plain sailing being thrown into the spotlight from the second you were born, Y/N Stark, the next heir of the Stark fortune and undeniable brains that came with the name. But you had never had the chance to flourish, instead you held firmly under lock and key by your father, constantly protected by the grey walls of the compound you called home.

You had grown up with your father spending multiple weeks and even months away, forcing you to be brought up by his endless amounts of staff. Happy was always your favourite, especially after he was no longer ‘Iron Man’s’ body guard, he was around a lot more than your dad.

Sure, you had the company of the World’s Mightiest Heroes, but you never clicked with any of them, with an exception of Natasha. That was simply because you’d known her the longest out of all of them. Yet, just like your dad she was away most of the time, saving the world and all that jazz.

You had always sworn you wouldn’t get attached to any of the heroes, it was too dangerous, they could get ripped away from you at any moment. And you probably aren’t going to have a chance to say goodbye.

That was until one day you heard your dad enter the lab where you were currently messing around with some of the bits he had laying around. It was pretty much the only thing you could do without Tony freaking out so you took full advantage of the slight freedom. You were used to him coming in alone checking up on you, and occasionally messing around with you, though this time there was another voice with him.

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Sweet Dreams

A little thing I wanted to write for @gunnslaughter and their AMAZING comic and artwork. Hoo boy here we go. If I have grammar mistakes please forgive me and sorry if I can’t get Hanzo’s character right omg

It’s another night when Hanzo wakes up in a cold sweat, heartbeat hammering in his chest and his dragons already out and ready to defend him from any threat. There’s moonlight filtering through a crack in the window, casting shadows across the room with shapes and sizes that do not scare him. He curses himself for these night terrors though, not liking any of these dreams that plague him but who doesn’t?

His body relaxes, his tense muscles unwinding and a hand reaching to the other side of the bed for the one source of comfort for such things. To help chase away the bad dreams even though he chastises himself that’s he’s over thirty and needs no such thing. Hanzo’s hand is already poised over where he knows where Jesse lays, probably snoring away but willing to get up for him any time any day.

Except there’s nobody there. He peeks an eye to the side just to see a brown hat resting on the sheets.

Hanzo bolts upright, a shout already rising up his throat because it all comes back to him. The fight, the darkness, waking up to realize that his lover isn’t there with him. That Jesse lays on a bed with machines and wires with Angela looking over him day and night for any signs of changes. The shout dies out into a pitiful groan, the hat taken and placed on his chest. Hanzo then takes deep breaths, running a hand down his face. He needs to calm down, needs to steady his fluttering heart because that’s what Jesse would coax him to do when this happens but he’s alone right now.

Hanzo is all alone and that scares him.

He’s so tired. Tired of all this waiting. Tired of waking up and almost in tears when he realizes it’s another day without Jesse fucking McCree in his life. Tired of playing this song and dance of getting his hopes up before they are crushed by the end of the day only to start up when the sun rises. An urge pulls him from the bed, the thought of seeing Jesse suddenly a priority.

The bowman is already out of his room, bare feet padding down the corridors to a destination he knows well before he realizes what he is doing. His dragons follow, worried and anxious as he is. Jesse’s hat is clutched in his fingers, the cherished item still smelling of the cowboy that helps soothe Hanzo during the worst nights.

It’s quiet in the base, the silence of the late hours appreciated but Hanzo’s mind is racing, shouting and spewing questions with no answers. As he passes Hana’s door he hears the Korean gamer shouting, albeit muffled. He cracks a small smile, remembering how Jesse liked to stay up with her and show her that even though he’s called old he’s still got some moves. His chest pangs though, the thought of Jesse not there like punch to the gut. The cowboy’s hat crinkles in his fists before he smooths it out with a gentle hand.

The medical wing comes into view too fast, too soon for his tastes but he presses forward. He waits outside the door to the infirmary, suddenly scared of what’s behind it. But a small part of him says that it’ll be alright, that when he steps in there will be that sunshine smile and kisses that’ll melt his heart all over again.

“It’s quite late, agent Shimada. What are you doing up?” Athena’s sudden voice startles the assassin from his thoughts, eyes darting from side to side to see if anyone had heard the AI.

“I am here for Jesse.” He knows the robot knows because he comes here all the time, asking for the same thing. The only other times he is present here is when Genji manages to get himself hurt, that protectiveness of an older brother something fierce that overcomes Hanzo when that happens. He will still deny such things though if anyone asked him.

“Angela forbids me but I can give you a few hours at best before she gets back.” Athena replies, the door sliding open and Hanzo smiles appreciatively as he passes through.

The smell of antiseptic hits him the second the door closes behind him but he ignores it as he goes into one of the rooms. There he hears a constant beep of a heartbeat he knows all to well, and his eyes rest upon none other than Jesse laying under the white hospital sheets. It looks wrong in every sense to him, to Jesse’s still form and to where the machines that keep him alive around him. There’s a chair next to his bed but Hanzo plainly ignores it and settles himself next to his lover, arms circling over Jesse’s stomach and under his back in a gentle hug.

“I had another nightmare.” Hanzo says before he realizes it, “I dreamt of the night I had almost killed Genji. I couldn’t look him in the eyes and if I did I knew that all I would find was hurt. I didn’t want to see what I had done and woke up instead and found you not there next to me.” Again. Hanzo refrains from saying that, not wanting to make the pain in his chest deeper.

All he hears in response is Jesse’s heartbeat monitor and the deep breaths the man takes in. Hanzo then rests his head on Jesse’s chest, finding that strong heartbeat he loves to hear so much but won’t say it out loud. He knows his lover eats up that sappy stuff like those movies of star crossed lovers that has the cowboy in tears and Hanzo lending his shoulder to cry on. It’s cheesy, so silly but his heart swells because it’s what makes Jesse Mcree even more special to the Japanese man.

“I miss you. I miss you so much.” He says, his throat tight but when he swallows the lump there refuses to go down. His eyes blur with tears and Hanzo lets them fall onto those pristine sheets, the small drops wetting the covers. He feels like its something better than what he sees Jesse laying in.

“I can’t sleep anymore, my love.” The Japanese man sniffles, the sound almost above the constant ‘beep beep’ he hears every time he visits. “It’s hard to sleep when you’re here, all hooked up and not moving. You like to move around, almost fall off our bed every night. You know how much I protest but I just want to hold you. You know that, right?”

There’s no response.

“I love you.” Hanzo murmurs before reaching out and moving a stray lock of hair out of the sleeping man’s face. He presses his lips to Jesse’s cheek, tucking his head in the crook of his neck and shoulder to inhale that scent he knows Jesse always has. It’s earthy, something spicy that immediately makes him think of the home he found in the man. His home, where his heart resides, where it’ll be protected at all costs no matter what and Hanzo would do the same for Jesse any day.

But these days he feels like that home is slipping away, drifting out to a place where he cannot go just yet. Hanzo still holds on, still keeps that stubbornness like a vice around the only man he knows he will love like no other.

His dragons must have felt how relaxed he is right now and decide to furl up around him and Jesse. One wiggles it’s way between him and the cowboy, managing to make itself comfortable in that small space before making a content noise and settling in. The other one finds a home over Jesse’s chest, watchful eyes looking up to the man that has their master in fits but makes him oh so happy all the same. It prods a nose at the sleeping man’s chin, disappointed in the lack of response. With a gentle nuzzle, it closes its eyes and rumbles something as it drifts off to sleep.

Hanzo is already deep asleep by the time Angela returns, his nightmares chased away again by the presence of his cowboy. The woman wants to scold the archer for this recurring habit but when she sees the bags under Hanzo’s eyes she refrains.

“Oh Jesse McCree how you worry everyone.” Not wanting to disturb the two, the doctor quickly checks up on Jesse and grabs a spare blanket. She gently drapes it over the two sleeping men, pressing a kiss to Jesse’s forehead before making her way out.

Hanzo dreams of an ocean stretched on to forever, the smell of the ocean breeze wafting past him. The sun is dipping low, casting beautiful lights across the waves in a array of colors that dance together. There’s no painter that can capture this moment, no person who can imitate such beauty. He’s on a steep cliff, the waves crashing below and the edge so close but there’s no danger. Then there’s a voice singing, rich and loud with so much spirit but Hanzo smiles nonetheless.

“Dance with me darlin’! The nights still young!” Hanzo laughs, facing away from the ocean to see none other than Jesse standing there, donning that cowboy getup he always does and a smile that can chase away any cloud in the sky.

Hanzo doesn’t want to wake up as he takes an outstretched hand, doesn’t want to wake up from this amazing dream. And Jesse just laughs, the perfect sound to Hanzo’s ears as the colors blend together as he and Jesse dance into the night.