apparently the is the only color i will ever draw in

Homestuck Beach Headcanons

John: hot sand hot sand hot sand *makes it to the water* cold water cold water cold water (this goes on for like an hour before he settles finally). Brought one of those fake shark fins and straps it to the top of his head. He fools no one. Brought approximately 53 kites and loses All of them because Dave said “hey I bet your kites can’t hold up against your windy thing”. He was right. Tells Karkat that the ocean speaks to ppl through conch shells, he holds one up to his ear, nods, “sorry Karkat, the ocean says you’re an idiot”. Karkat is horrified and John is dying trying to keep a straight face.

Dave: has a SBAHJ swimsuit and a SBAHJ surfboard. Challenges Jade to a surf-off. “Are you sure, Dave? I’ve had a lot of practice and it’s not as easy as it looks! I’ve got it, Dave reassures her. How difficult can it be. She warned u, bro. She warned u about the surf. He does not get back in the water. Fills a bucket with crabs of various shapes and sizes throughout the day, at the end he calls Karkat over to where he’s standing by the waters edge. Hey. Hey Karkat. Look what I found. He pours the crabs out at Karkat’s feet. Karkat looks unsettled. Dave. Where did you even find all these crabs Dave. They’re your children Karkat. I did this for you.

Jade: spends the whole day in the water and also she is a surf goddess did I mention that? Doesn’t put any sunscreen in and everyone is concerned but she barely even tans. After getting out of the water she does the Wet Doggo Shake™ Jade can u pls just warn us before u do that pls you’re getting us all soaking wet. Smells suspiciously like wet dog but everyone is too polite to point it out. Helps Dave collect his crabs bc she has an uncanny knack for finding them (she’s sniffing them out with her doggy nose but doesn’t tell Dave bc she wants to show off).

Rose: builds sand castles with Kanaya bc Kanaya is deadass terrified of the ocean. They surpass sandcastle tbh it’s more like a sand palace. Rose found a bunch of nice purpley shells to decorate with and also some rocks that look suspiciously arcane and vaguely powerful. High tide somehow wipes out the group’s chairs but doesn’t touch the sandcastle. Hm. Chastises Dave for building dicks out of the sand. Is there something you’d like to tell us, Dave? *Dave sweating* what’s a penis I don’t even know anyone named Karkat. Rose smiles innocently. Of course not. Throughout the day, Rose brings water for Kanaya to drink and also to dump on her so she can regulate her body temperature. Since she’s a cold-blood her body temp is lower so she overheats v easily.

Kanaya: is deadass terrified of the ocean. Does the detail work on the castle she and Rose are making, carves out little stairs and turrets and makes flags out of spare ribbon she keeps in her bag. It’s beautiful. She cries at the end of the day when they have to leave it even though they’ve taken lots of pictures. . Karkat comes up to her with a conch shell and holds it out to Kanaya, “john told me the ocean said I was an idiot Kanaya what is it saying I can’t hear anything” She takes the conch shell and listens. Mmhm. Yes. Oh My. “What did it say???” It Was Really Quite Rude, I Shouldn’t Repeat It. Karkat is about to cry. Kanaya and Rose secretly fist bump.

Karkat: oh boy this has really been A Day for him. He’s nervous around the ocean already but apparently it thinks he’s an idiot??? He loves the crabs they remind him of his lusus, it was slightly horrifying that Dave put a bunch of them in a bucket for obvious reasons. Wants to be buried in the sand, Jake helps him dig a big hole and he and Dave and Dirk all work together to make it big enough and fill it in afterwards. Dave writes “im gay” underneath Karkat’s head poking out and Karkat yells at him for taking pictures. Sollux falls asleep on his towel and Karkat writes “beefucker” on his forehead.

Terezi: before they got there everyone told Terezi not to lick the sand. Guess what she did. Also, accidentally popped the beach ball with her teeth because she was licking it. There’s a theme here can u find it. Is in the water a lot because Vriska is desperately trying to regulate her body temperature and has v little energy to say mean things which everyone is grateful for. To make her feel better, Terezi engages in wildly uncreative insults that Vriska can easily latch onto without having to put much energy in. “Hey Terezi is the water cold?” I don’t know john, is your FACE cold? “Terezi that doesn’t even make any sense”, your face doesn’t make any sense! She cackles as if this is some High Brow Humor every single time.

Jake: has an irrational fear of seagulls, they keep coming for his food and that makes him nervous because the monsters on his island were one thing but this? This sly and wily creature? Dirk is like,,,buddy,,,it’s just a seagull? It’s just a bird? “They’re eating my fries, Dirk, I won’t stand for it!” Jake has a little ukulele that he knows like five songs on, he sits outside by the boardwalk and just strums it sometimes after dark. One night, two little kids come by and give him 6 dollars in crumpled singles for his playing and he started crying he was so touched.

Jane: is having the TIME of her life, and is also the Mom friend. She’s simultaneously kicking ass at beach volleyball and reminding everyone to put on their sunscreen and reapply every two hours please! She’s also having a good time experimenting with cooking seafood some nights, though once she made the mistake of bringing in crab and Karkat did Not take it well. It took an hour to calm him down. Jane felt awful and made it up to him by buying him a nice hoodie w a happy crab on it. Bought a cute little blue boogie board and hangs out with Jade and Roxy in the water, she’s not very good at it but she likes swimming around a little.

Dirk: he’s that one friend that goes way too hard in casual games tbh. Like, they’re just playing a friendly game of volleyball Dirk can you please stop spiking it every five seconds. The grind never stops, Roxy, don’t hate the player hate the grind. Jane looked at him w so much disappointment in her eyes after he said it that he felt the force of her stare physically and had to take a step back. Tries to show Jake that seagulls aren’t scary by feeding them, but they start attacking him for his fries which does not help prove his point at all.

Roxy: “the babe” Lalonde has been ready for a beach trip her entire life. She is checking out the lifeguards, she’s checking out the other gals and dudes strolling about the beach, she’s got her best friends with her, what more could she want??? She buys a cutesy pink surfboard and Dave makes fun of her for it and she smiles sweetly. Oh sorry Dave? I forgot you were so good at surfing?? No one knows how or when Roxy learned to hang ten but THERE SHE GOES. She finds a lot of pretty shells and rocks and sand dollars and is just enthusiastic about everything tbh. She brightens everyone’s mood always.

Calliope: cherubs can’t float so Roxy’s overprotective ass won’t let her near the water unless someone is with her and making sure she’s safe. This is Fine with calliope bc that means that she’s never alone and therefore she’s never lonely and really that’s all she’s ever wanted so!! She’s v content to watch Jade and Roxy surf, she will sit w Jane sometimes when she isn’t in the water. She also likes digging for sand crabs with Karkat bc she likes their little legs. She wants to dig deep enough to find a lobster and no one has the heart to tell her that’s not how it works.

Sollux: this idiot. This boy. My sweet sweet son. Makes the horrible mistake of falling asleep on his towel. He was underneath the big umbrella when he started, but as the sun moves and he’s not putting on more sunscreen?? John, Dave, and Karkat take it upon themselves to not only write “beefucker” on his forehead, but also draw dicks on his whole body in sunscreen so he burns (trolls turn a darker shade of their blood color) and ends up with these pale gray dicks surrounded by a horrible dark, mustardy burn.

The First Time With Jeon Jungkook

Originally posted by jkguks

Genre : Fluff, romance,comedy,implicit language & sexual innuendos 
Pairing:Jungkook x reader
Length: 13002 words
Summary : This is a series based on all of your first times with jungkook, from your childhood till adulthood

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7

Tell me your thoughts in the comments and ask box :)


THE FIRST TIME YOU WERE SENIORS IN HIGH SCHOOL

“Jungkookie” you raised a seductive brow as you slowly pulled onto his uniform’s tie

“What’s up?” his back was pressed against the wall, questioning your little acts

“Isn’t this uniform a little too stuffy?” you commented “This tie seems to be suffocating you”

“I don’t know…” he pulls your waist closer as he eyed your lips hungrily “Maybe it is?”

“What should we do about this, then?” you lift your head to lock eyes with him

“I don’t know, you tell me” Jungkook trails his fingers dangerously close to your skirt

Jungkook groaned as the vibrations of his phone were continuously heard on his night table. The so-called lazy boy wasn’t catching a single break since senior year began. His obligations and future goals were continuously roaming inside his victimized brain. So many things piling up, waiting for him to achieve them, yet the boy was taking his sweet time, sleeping under the soft blankets of love and pulling them closer against his sturdy body.

“Three more minutes mom” He muttered in his sleep

The phone wasn’t vibrating this time but it started ringing which meant that he had an oncoming call. The boy sat up and kicked his blanket in a fury as he hated being interrupted in his sleeping activities. He was having the best dream in a while yet someone had to interrupt his perfect fictional fantasy of getting it on with his long time crush.

He growls before burying his face back onto his pillow as his long fingers reached the electronical device to answer the call. It didn’t take long before he gave a reply that made the recipient’s heart drop and soul’s leave from their body. In fact, Kim Taehyung was always bound to get tangled in a mess when it came to his best friend Jungkook.

“KIM TAEHYUNG, YOU SON OF A DUMB FUCKIDY FUCKIDIDOO, WHAT’S UP?” Jungkook ran a hand through his hair in frustration

“Well damn, seems like someone is not in the mood to talk to me” Taehyung felt taken aback “and what was it? Fuckidy-doo? The fuck is that? You may think you’re being swag right now, but fuckididoo is not happening, just like fetch never happened”

“Look here, you stylish looking brat” Jungkook growled on the other side before clenching his fist “You just ruined the most amazing dream I ever had in my entire life” Jungkook faked a sob

“Did you just call me a brat? I was born before your ass even got out of the oven” Taehyung argued back “What was your dream?! Was it spicy~~~~” Taehyung squealed on the other line

“There’s no way I’m telling you. I’m keeping it to myself so that it actually becomes real” Jungkook rolled his eyes before adding “Sorry to break it out to you but you’re a jinx, Kim Taehyung”

“I’m a jinx? Yeah, you definitely had some sort of kinky dream” Taehyung chuckled “Who was the chick this time? Selena Gomez? Oh!!! Was it Ariana Grande?  You have a thing for brunette girls these days”

“I don’t have a thing for brunette girls, what are you saying? When did I ever say that…” he sighed before ruffling his hair

Jungkook had a type for the past few months and it always changed a few weeks in and out. He was smitten over blonde girls with slim bodies barely three months ago and now he found his new obsession with curvy brunettes. They apparently seemed like the kind of girls who’d teach him a thing or two. All of this was a misconception and even if Jungkook did had a preference for certain hair colors, he never had the guts to ever approach a girl or to stutter a single word if that girl in question wasn’t you. 

Truth had it that Jeon Jungkook was only comfortable around you. He was used to your presence, your scent, your hair color, your clinginess and your comments. Having a type was a thing, but Jungkook tried getting his mind off of you for the past two years, which is why he fell into an ideal type abyss. He didn’t even had an ideal type to begin with , he just wanted to have reason as to why he wouldn’t have to ever develop deeper feelings for you.

“Ayyy…you thought I’d fall for that?” Taehyung shot on the other line “It was definitely a steamy dream. Spill the bean and share the goods with me”

“I dreamt of cows and sheeps running in a field! Happy now?” Jungkook replied

“The fuck? Isn’t that a conception dream? “Taehyung half shouted “Bro, who the fuck have you knocked up? DID YOU MAKE SOMEONE PREGNANT?!”

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Dancing. [Prince Adam Oneshot.]

We are all sinners and are gonna go to hell but you know as long as we have fanfics there I’m okay.

Title: Dancing.
Pairing: Implied! - Prince Adam x Female!Reader.
Words: 3,361.
Rating: T.
Summary: Haven’t you ever wondered what would happen if you called out a Prince who constantly acted like the world revolved around him?


You had quite a difficult time processing how you had gotten to the moment of standing only a few feet behind Prince Adam, with a silver trimmed and tall stout glass of champagne sitting in your right hand. The ring on your middle finger clicked against the glass shivering out a rather satisfying sound, one of wealth that demanded the most absurd amount of respect. Strangely enough, he hadn’t found any interest in you until this evening despite being invited (more like severely persuaded you come) to many of his parties. They were all the same. The same type of physically appealing people, the same stuffed up atmosphere, the same petty chat from person to person, the same typical dances, and the same type of carefully picked attire.

The Prince, with his naturally strawberry blond hair covered by a long haired wig that twisted into rather exquisite curls near the end, only seemed enthused by the aesthetic of the situation. He himself seemed to be the only thing that changed from event to event. The shades and colors of his face would change, varying in vibrancy depending on the clothing he donned that evening.

This evening—you thought to yourself and scaled your eyes upon the Prince, a few feet in front of you. And yes, this evening he was wearing velvet as usual; A dark purple, or so it appeared in the light of the room. It sparkled if he he caught the candlelight just right and for a split second, Prince Adam looked approachable, as if you wanted to sink into his arms because he closely resembled the shine of the stars. The embroidery on his waistcoat was nothing less than perfection and played along with the fabric as if they were swirled in a dance together. Purple and silver detailing hung closely to the trim of his coat and expanded into flourishes of metallic silver flowers spilling onto the breast of the jacket. Speckles of jewels hit sporadically around the jacket, and down the right and left side clung silver buttons that served no purpose other than appeal. And oddly enough, his jacket looked like the softest material imaginable if you dared to reach out for him.

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prince in training

~3k, rated T

Sterek ficlet inspired by this: “i grew up not knowing i was royal and now i guess i’m heir to a throne and you’re the guy who’s supposed to be teaching me how to be royal bc i suck at it and oops we made out” au

This is kind of Princess-Diaries-ish. I know that’s been done before in this fandom (and thank god it has—it’s awesome), but I couldn’t help myself. Yay for self-indulgence!

*

Stiles thought the most annoying thing about suddenly being a royal heir to a small eastern European kingdom he’s never heard of would be the hyper-aggressive paparazzi, but he was dead wrong.

The most annoying thing is actually Derek Hale, the guy Stiles’ grandmother hired to teach Stiles how not to screw this up.

“Princes don’t chew with their mouths open, Stiles.”

“Princes don’t shove an entire fistful of curly fries in their mouths, Stiles.”

“Princes don’t wear pink-and-green plaid shirts from Target, Stiles.”

“Princes don’t slouch.”

They don’t slump, either, or yawn or sneeze or cough in public, or fist-pump, or drive beat-up old blue Jeeps, or wear bright colors, or rock out to the radio, or do anything fun.

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Reckless

Prompt: @whothehellisbella‘s song challenge - I’m In Here by Sia

A/N:This. Was. A. STRUGGLE!!! I wound up outlining a whole series that I felt really went with this song (yet to come), and this is the blob that I wrote for a one shot in in its stead. It’s angsty af and sooooo damn long. Idk team. Idk.

Warning: aaaangst, poor relationship dynamics.

Word Count: 6247 I’m fainting. This is the longest fic I’ve ever posted. I’m done.

Originally posted by captaincentenarian

“She gonna be okay?” Tony asked, handing Steve a cup of the shitty black sludge that the cafeteria passed off as coffee. His sharp brown eyes scanning the windows for any glimpse of you through the partially closed blinds. The muffled steady beeping of the monitors was a comfort, at least.

“Think so,” Steve sighed, finally lifting his gaze from his feet to mimic Tony’s glances into the room. He’d been seated opposite your door with his elbows on his knees and his head buried in his hands since your arrival. “As long as the grafts take and she gets through the quarantine stage, she should recover alright.”

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Once upon a time - which is a terrible way to start a joke - there was a little boy named Billy.

Billy was six years old, and for the whole of his short life, he had been utterly and intensely obsessed with clowns. He had clown bed sheets and clown posters; he had clown toys and clown-themed games; he had towels with clowns on them, a toothbrush in the shape of a clown, and - if it had existed - he probably would have used clown-flavored toothpaste, as well.

Try not to think about it.

The point here is that Billy loved clowns, and his parents were well aware of that fact. (They’d have to be, right? I mean, how is a six-year-old going to buy all of that stuff?) Thus, they decided that for their son’s seventh birthday, they’d purchase front row seats at the circus, which just happened to be in town at the same time. Upon hearing this, Billy was absolutely overcome with excitement, and he was scarcely able to sit still until his family arrived at the big top.

Billy and his parents walked in, took their seats, and waited for the show to start.

The music flared to life and the lights came up, and in a dazzling display of merriment, everything began. First came the lion-tamers with their whips and chairs… and yeah, they were intriguing, but they didn’t hold Billy’s interest. Next came the feats of strength with strongmen (and one excessively suspicious woman) smashing bricks and bending bars… and yeah, it was impressive, but Billy didn’t really care. The sword swallowers followed, and the trapeze artists, and the tightrope walkers… and yeah, someone might have died at any moment, but it all seemed so boring.

Eventually, Billy began to worry that he wouldn’t get to see clowns at the circus. After all, he knew very well that clowns usually only appeared when something went wrong. (You didn’t know that, did you? Yeah, clowns are typically kept on standby in case someone screws up.)

Suddenly, all of the lights went out.

A single spotlight shown down to one corner of the arena.

A tiny car came puttering into view, while discordant, almost forlorn circus music played.

Deet deet deedle-deedle deet deet dee deeeeee…

The car’s doors sprang open, and out poured the most amazing collection of clowns that Billy had ever seen! There were fat clowns, thin clowns, tall clowns, short clowns! Clowns with bright red hair and enormous red noses! Clowns in silly suspenders and oversize shoes! There were clowns wearing every color of the rainbow, and clowns that moved like psychotic ferrets on speed! There were more clowns than Billy had ever dreamed of watching all at once!

Then, just as it seemed like that tiny car couldn’t produce a single soul more, another clown stepped out. He was too fat to be thin, yet too thin to be fat… but somehow wasn’t average, either. He was too short too be tall, yet too tall to be short… but still managed to be both at once. He had pale, almost white skin - not the product of makeup - and deep, almost black, sunken eyes. He had a shock of bright red (and completely natural) hair, and a bulbous, equally red nose.

Billy looked on with awe and wonder as he realized what he was seeing: This wasn’t a person in makeup who was putting on an act; this was a real clown. The man - if indeed you could call him a man - reached into the front of his pants, wiggled his hand around for a little while, and pulled forth a bright silver microphone. After offering a conspiratorial wink to the audience, the clown cleared his throat… and his dry, raspy voice boomed out for everyone to hear:

“I need a volunteer!”

Before Billy had even completely processed what he had just heard, he discovered that he had leapt from his seat and thrust his hand as high as it would go.

“Pick me!” Billy screamed. “Pick me!”

The clown extended a finger and cast it over the audience, drawing lazy circles through the crowd. After what felt like an eternity, he finally aimed his cracked fingernail directly at Billy.

“You there, little boy!” the clown barked.

A cheer went up as Billy clamored over the railing and dropped down into the arena. The smell of sawdust and sweat reached his nose, but he paid it little mind: He was focused entirely on this dream of his coming true; on the opportunity to meet and perform with a real clown.

“I need to ask you a question,” said the clown. “Tell me: Are you a horse’s head?”

Billy laughed aloud, as much from glee as from the absurdity of the question. “No! No, I’m not a horse’s head!”

The clown nodded, apparently having expected this answer. (After all, who would say yes to that question?) “Well, then… are you a horse’s body?”

“No!” Billy giggled. “No, I’m not a horse’s body, either!”

Once more, the clown nodded, and his broad smile - his thick, red lips - grew wider. “I see. Are you a horse’s leg?

“No, I’m not a horse’s leg!” Billy replied. His own smile grew to match that of the clown.

“So…” the clown said, pacing around Billy. “You’re not a horse’s head, and you’re not a horse’s body, and you’re not a horse’s leg.” He paused then, and stood completely still. A hush covered the audience. Then, in a whirl of motion, the clown jammed his finger through the air and brought it right up into Billy’s face.

“Then you must be a horse’s ass!

Laughter exploded from everywhere at once. Billy looked around, shame and betrayal filling his heart, and saw the faces of all those strangers laughing at him. He saw his friends from school laughing at him. He saw his own parents laughing at him. Something broke inside of Billy in that moment, and with a scream of agony and anguish, he ran from the arena and didn’t stop until he had reached his house.

When Billy’s parents returned home, they discovered that their son had trashed his bedroom. He had snapped his clown toothbrush and torn apart his towels with the clowns on them. He had smashed his clown-themed games and broken all of his clown toys. He had shredded his clown posters and burned his clown bed sheets. (I don’t know where this kid got access to fire, but clearly he was pretty serious about destroying stuff.) Worst of all, Billy’s parents found that their son - who had once been so cheerful and outgoing - had sunken into a deep and unbreakable silence.

Billy did not speak for a year. Therapists and counselors were wholly ineffective, and no amount of bribery, threats, or pleading could pull even the smallest word from his lips. His parents eventually gave up, resigned as they were to the fact that their son was lost to them… but then, on his eighth birthday, the little boy held up his head, blinked his eyes once, and spoke with a clarity and a maturity not heard from most adults.

“Mom, Dad,” he said, “I want you to know that I’m okay. From now on, though… it’s just ‘Bill.’”

Ten years passed.

Bill went on to become something of a legend in his little hometown: He was a perfect student and a dedicated volunteer. He was involved in every extracurricular activity in some way or another. He was captain of the football team, head of the chess club, first-chair violin in the orchestra, and valedictorian. By the time that he was ready to graduate, Bill had been offered a complete scholarship to literally every college in the country (with some schools even offering free alcohol after he turned twenty-one).

It came as something of a shock, then, when after crossing the stage, Bill approached his parents.

“I know that you won’t understand this,” he said, “but I’ve decided that I’m not going to college. You see, all of my success and all of my ambition has been driven by a deep, horrible wound that I still carry. I’ve tried desperately to cover it, to let it heal… but each night, I still hear the voice of that clown in my head. That’s why I’m leaving for Tibet. I’m going to seek out and join the monastery where they teach the ancient art of Comebackery, and once I have mastered all that they can offer… I’ll come back and have my revenge.”

Bill’s parents tried to dissuade him, but he was adamant. True to his word, Bill boarded a flight that very evening. He landed in China and trekked on foot to a village at the base of a snow-covered mountain. A year passed as he learned the language and earned the trust of the people who lived there, until the day when one of them gave him whispered directions to the hidden temple. Bill set out again, carrying only a few days’ worth of supplies, and finally found himself at the doorstep of the monastery he had sought.

A knock at the door was answered by the head monk; a small, wrinkled man with a bald head and a serene smile.

“My son,” the head monk said, “I can see that you have been wronged.” (This guy spoke Tibetan, obviously, but the general meaning was the same.) “Normally, you would have to wait here for three days and nights to show your devotion… but I sense that you are a special case. Come into the sanctuary, and we will teach you what you wish to know.”

Thus began Bill’s life as a Monk of Comebackery. He learned jokes, japes, and jeers. He learned witticisms and retorts. He learned insults, insinuations, dares, and double entendres. Before long, he was able to verbally spar with the very best of his brethren.

Yet still, even after another decade of training, Bill did not feel any closer to learning what he had hoped to find.

One cold winter morning, Bill approached the head monk with his concerns. “Master,” he said, “have I not been a good pupil?”

“You have been exemplary,” answered the head monk.

“And have I not upheld and embodied everything you have taught?”

“Indeed you have,” the head monk replied.

“Then,” Bill said, steadying himself, “I wish to learn the forbidden knowledge. I wish to learn… The Ultimate Comeback.”

The head monk looked into Bill’s eyes for a long, ominous moment.

Eventually, he smiled.

“My son,” the head monk said, “when you came to us, you were but a youth with a scar on his soul. You had been cut more deeply than any man should have to endure, and yet you persevered. More than that, you excelled. You have inspired us all with your strength and conviction, and also with your insight.” The man stepped forward and clasped a hand over Bill’s shoulder. “I cannot teach you what you seek, for you already know it.”

At first, Bill felt himself reeling inside. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Had he thrown his life away for nothing? Had he wasted all of those years training, only to fail at the last step? The thought was too terrible to consider, and Bill experienced a sense of loss unlike any he had felt since…

Since…

In a flash of clarity, Bill understood.

The Ultimate Comeback, he knew, was a weapon of untold power. It was to be wielded only by they who had discovered it for themselves, and it could only be discovered by they who had felt its devastation firsthand. It was so elegant, so perfect, and so deadly… and Bill knew that it had always been inside of him.

The head monk, watching Bill’s face, smiled again. “You are ready.”

Over the next few days, Bill made preparations to return home. He bade goodbye to his brothers at the monastery, then trekked back down to the village at the base of the mountain. He worked tirelessly in their fields and households, saving every bit that he could in order to afford a plane ticket back to the United States. It took still another year, but finally, Bill found himself stepping off the airplane onto American soil (or, rather, onto American linoleum in an American airport), and hitchhiking in the direction of his hometown.

When he finally arrived, Bill was aghast at what he discovered. This once-welcoming neighborhood had descended into squalor and disrepair. Shops were boarded up and trash littered the street. Stray dogs ran in packs, fighting over scraps of rubbish. What few people Bill encountered would quickly avert their gazes and hurry on their way. The warmth and compassion that he had experienced in his youth were both gone, replaced by a desolate despondence and an overcast sky.

It didn’t take long to find that Bill’s parents were long dead. His friends had all moved on, and the legend of Bill’s high school success had faded into little more than an unlikely memory. Despair filled Bill’s heart, along with a thrum of rising panic. Was he too late? Had he spent so much time abroad that he’d missed his chance to have his revenge?

As if in answer, a gust of wind brought a scrap of paper to Bill’s feet. He reached down and retrieved it… and realized that it was a ticket to the circus’s last-ever show. Not only that, but the performance was being held that very day, and the ticket would grant Bill access to the very same seat he had occupied all those years ago.

This, Bill decided, was fate.

He squared his shoulders and walked in the direction of the big top.

When Bill arrived to the circus, he found that it had fared no better than the rest of the town. The tents all hung in tatters, barely more than faded scraps of cloth. The seats were rickety and rusty, and even the sawdust bore the telltale scent of rot. Despite the dilapidation, though, it seemed that the final performance had drawn an enormous crowd, and Bill had to shove his way through the audience to reach his seat at the front row.

He held his breath, waiting for the show to start.

The music moaned to life and the lights flickered up, and in a halfhearted display of merriment, everything began. First came the lion-tamers with their whips and chairs… and yeah, they were intriguing, but Bill was otherwise occupied. Next came the feats of strength with strongmen (and one excessively suspicious old woman) smashing bricks and bending bars… and yeah, it was impressive, but Bill stayed focused on his own thoughts. The sword swallowers followed, and the trapeze artists, and the tightrope walkers… and yeah, someone might have died at any moment, but it all seemed so irrelevant.

Eventually, Bill began to worry that he wouldn’t get to see the clowns. After all, he knew very well that clowns have a remarkably low life expectancy as compared to other professions. (That’s probably not accurate, but it sure sounds true, doesn’t it?)

Suddenly, all of the lights went out.

A single spotlight shown down to one corner of the arena.

A tiny car came puttering into view, while discordant, almost forlorn circus music played.

Deet deet deedle-deedle deet deet dee deeeeee…

The car’s doors creaked open, and out shambled the most pathetic collection of clowns that Bill had ever seen. There were fat clowns, thin clowns, tall clowns, and short clowns, all of them bent under the weight of age and depression. Clowns with ancient wigs and crumbling rubber noses. Clowns in stretched-out suspenders and orthopedic shoes. There were clowns wearing every faded shade one could imagine, and clowns that moved like they were inches from the grave.

Then, just as it seemed like that tiny car couldn’t produce a single soul more… the outpouring stopped.

Bill’s heart jumped in his chest. Where was the clown who had wronged him as a child? Where was the monster that had haunted his dreams? Where was the target for his Ultimate Comeback?!

A shaking, rattling cough called Bill’s attention to the other side of the arena, and he watched as an old man limped into view. Streaks of grey marred what had once been a shock of bright red hair, and those deep, blackened eyes seemed to have sunk even further into the white face that contained them. Yellow teeth spoke of fetid breath behind those broad, cracked lips, and tremors shook each lanky limb… but it was very clearly the clown from Bill’s past.

The clown raised a tarnished microphone to his mouth and spoke.

“I need a volunteer.”

Before Bill was even aware of his own actions, he discovered that he had stood from his seat and thrust his hand in the air.

“Me,” Bill said. “Pick me.”

The clown extended a finger and cast it over the audience, drawing lazy circles through the crowd. After what felt like an eternity, he finally aimed his cracked, dirty fingernail directly at Bill.

“You there, sir!” the clown rasped.

A reluctant cheer went up as Bill climbed his way over the railing and dropped down into the arena. The smell of mildew and death reached his nose, but he paid it little mind: He was focused entirely on this dream of his coming true; on the opportunity to get his revenge on the clown before him.

“I need to ask you a question,” croaked the clown. “Tell me: Are you a horse’s head?”

“No.”

The single word rang out like a gunshot, echoing in the silence that followed.

The clown, visibly shaken by the response, coughed and continued. “Well, then… are you a horse’s body?”

“No.”

Once more, the syllable cut through the air, piercing everyone who heard it to their very soul. There was an icy, powerful venom in Bill’s voice, and it utterly captivated everyone within earshot.

The clown shivered, clearly unaccustomed to this kind of behavior, but pressed on nonetheless. “I see. Are you a horse’s leg?

“No,” Bill calmly replied, “I am not a horse’s leg.”

Nobody said a word. Nobody even breathed. Nobody had ever experienced anything as chilling as the tone in Bill’s voice… but the clown had a secret weapon, too. With an evil, sinister smile, that pale-faced, red-haired monstrosity summoned forth the unspeakable power that rests within the blackened heart of every clown, bringing it to bear in a horrifying smile that should not have been able to exist outside of a nightmare.

“So!” the clown said, pacing around Bill. “You’re not a horse’s head, and you’re not a horse’s body, and you’re not a horse’s leg.” He paused then, and stood completely still. A hush covered the audience. Then, in a whirl of motion, the clown jammed his finger through the air and brought it right up into Bill’s face.

“Then you must be a horse’s ass!

Laughter exploded from everywhere at once. Bill looked around, and suddenly, he was a little boy again. All of that shame and betrayal filled his heart, and he couldn’t help but imagine the faces of all those strangers laughing at him. He saw his friends from school laughing at him. He saw the ghosts of his parents laughing at him. Something broke inside of Bill in that moment… but rather than scream and run, he held up a hand.

Wait!

The laughter stopped.

The silence returned.

“The clown”

the pull of the tides (m)

pairing: park jimin | reader
genre: surfer au / fluff, light smut 
word count: 12,513
description: The expanse of the deep blue sea has always drawn you in. Each ebb and flow of the tides never ceasing to take your breath away. And now, a boy with hair as light as the morning sun and a smile just as bright does too. 
author’s note: i dedicate this to @workofteaguk ‘cuz look girl, it’s finally here! and i also dedicate this to @jamlessness because you told you have yet to write a jimin fic so i wrote one for the two of us! okay, and @wonhopes too because i subjected her to read over this thing kjddghsjdkh <3 

also, bless this post for the inspiration!

Originally posted by lonastic


When you were young, you begged your parents to take you to see the beach. This was your family vacation suggestion every year. All because you wanted to feel the sand between your toes and slip between your fingers and to watch each grain land right back where it was meant to be. And much like those grains of sand falling away from you, those trips seems to go by, and eventually they ceased the older you got.

Since then, being a prime age of twenty now, you’ve long since yearned to return to the beach town you’ve come to know and love for more than its seaside views.

With school out for another few months and nothing but time to kill, you’re actually more than ecstatic to take up a summer job at Bang’s Snack Shack. It’s directly across from the shores, and the view is absolutely amazing. You can see the way the sun reflects against the waters when it’s high up in the sky and when it goes down. The rays of orange and yellows bounce off the blues in a pretty swirl with small dots of people enjoying the waves on long boards. Each of them practically floating as the blue hues carry them across the vicinity until they’re in the safe confines of the wading area.

You enjoy the sight of surfers though you’re definitely no surfer yourself. You just find their ability in skimming the waters on a long piece of polished and colored wood amazing, especially when they’re at the peak of the waves build-up, and suddenly they’re coming back to the sands with bright eyes and grins to match on their sun-kissed skins. There’s just something beautiful in their enamored states, and although you can never truly understand it, you’re happy to witness it with your own two eyes until a customer snaps you back to reality.

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@zsaszmatazz tagged me to do the “six movies I can watch any time” meme (LIKE 10 YEARS AGO I’M SORRY) so here goes!

1. Road to El Dorado

Don’t tell me you can’t also watch this whenever. It’s lolzy, it’s feelsy, and it’s the source of one of my three OT3s. If Miguel/Tulio wasn’t allowed to be canon, I’m making Miguel/Chel/Tulio my headcanon dammit. Fight me.

The story is a fantastic adventure every time. The music is amazing, the animation is GORGEOUS. The jokes are funny no matter how many times I hear them. “Stars.” “Holy ship.” “Apparently ‘El Dorado’ is native for GREAT… BIG… ROCK.” 

And don’t get me started on the armadillo. Is that thing a spirit guide? A god? Probably. I’m for it.

Originally posted by garytheprophet

2. Chicken Run

I consider this one a guilty pleasure. Again, always a funny, fun adventure. Just serious enough to balance out the lolz. And Ginger is one hell of a snarky character. I love that she’s simultaneously mom friend and rebel friend.

Also, it’s that claymation Wallace and Gromit animation, which is just… nifty! I always find myself watching certain characters move, checking out different textures, especially with Babs and her knitting. Just… excellent.

Also, also this:

Originally posted by alexanderhamiltonisthebottom

3. Stardust

What can I say about this movie? Well…

I was based on a book written by my favorite author, Neil Gaiman, is a fantastic adventure that addresses the line between magic and non-magic worlds and includes such fun things as evil witches, falling in love, warring princes, falling stars, unicorns, ghosts, and sky pirates in drag (which Neil said he’s pretty sure he didn’t write, but it’s such a good scene you guys).

I am always happy by the end of it. The growing-up story is so good. And Tristan kind of bumbles through it like I totally believe I would were I thrown into a story like that. It’s just… such a satisfyingly complete and fun story, and I love it every single time.

Originally posted by kingofthecarrotflowers

4. Megamind

Shut the hell your mouth this is the best villain-to-hero story I know. I am always so proud of Megamind. Like, real talk, how often does our favorite adorable villain get the girl? How often do we get to see the bumbling bad guy actually get a cool-ass happy ending? And the emotional journey he goes on gets just serious enough without killing the funny vibe the whole movie carries.

The writing is tropey, but in a way that totally plays on those tropes while making fun of them. Trope-ception is my favorite trope. And I love, love, LOVE the design choices. This movie is so colorful, and the proportions are so over the top. It’s just a visual salad. 

And, as always, the jokes are good no matter what. I don’t think I’ll ever get over, “And I love you, random citizen!” This movie is such a fun time, please go watch it.

Originally posted by littlecubbie

5. Strange Magic

Have you heard of this movie? Well, now you have. Please go watch it. 

Much like Megamind, Strange Magic got pushed to the back burner by more popular movies coming out at the same time. And that’s just a shame, because it’s just so good.

It’s a jukebox musical with reenactments of all sorts of songs, all of which are brilliant (half the time because Evan Rachel Wood My Queen is singing them, but also Alan Cumming, and sometimes they sing together and I die). The story is predictable, but the characters are what make it for me. They’re fun enough that even though I saw the end coming a mile away, it was nothing but enjoyable watching them get there.

This fandom is also dear to my heart. It’s full of some of the sweetest people with some of the most interesting fan fiction that I’ve ever read. When I think good writing, I think @abutterflyobsession who has made me cry on more than one occasion, and @jaegereska whose lore and OCs add so much to the world beyond the movie. 

Major draws: good music, lovely animation, self-confidence story, princess with a sword, SWEET SWEET VENGEANCE, and did I mention singing by Evan Rachel Wood, Alan Cumming, and Kristin Chenoweth? Bruh.

Originally posted by deluxetrashqueen

6. Labyrinth

My favorite movie for now and always. Set it at the bottom for full effect. Get ready.

First off, music by David Bowie that is fuckin’ catchy as heck. If you don’t want to at least tap your foot along to ‘Dance Magic Dance’ you’re lying. ‘As the World Falls Down’ was the first song I remember wanting to know the lyrics to. 

Side note: If you didn’t think the Fireys were creepy as fuck, you’re also lying.

There has never been so much glitter in one place ever. The visual gags are always funny. Like, there are Bowie faces I still can’t find to this day hidden in the scenery??? The muppets are all adorable because Brian Froud is amazing, and I want a pet goblin. Everything is just so much fun to look at. Don’t even get me started on the ridiculous fantasy fulfillment that is the ballroom scene. I just. 

The jokes are always funny because they run on a dry sense of humor like mine. “Well, come on feet.” One I missed for years. “No, that’s the dead end, behind you!” Ha, hubris. “It’s a piece of cake!” Shut up, Sarah…

But you also can’t not love the characters? Like, come on, who doesn’t wanna hug Ludo just a little. And Didymus, the fox knight that rides a fuckin’ tiny dog into battle?? And Hoggle who collects jewelry and pretends to be bitter as hell but cares so much??? Heck off, they’re all awesome.

Fave movie. Always. 

Originally posted by jimhenson-muppetmaster

Honorable Mention: Big Fish

Added this one because I can watch this any time, but it always makes me cry, so I usually save it for when I need a good cry. (Srsly, @may10baby can vouch, I once tried to explain the end to her and started sobbing in the car).

It’s just such a cool story. We get to see the life of the father as told through his own hyperbolic stories, which include a star-studded cast playing funny scenes in between serious family time. And the end… christ, it’s just such a satisfying ending. Such a good play on storytelling and what it can mean to people. Which, as a writer, means a lot to me.

Also, it’s the only Tim Burton movie I’ve seen that doesn’t look like… that. You know. How Burton movies look. Helena Bonham Carter plays like 3 different people, and none of them are Mrs. Lovett. That’s a feat, honestly.

I’ve said this about a few of these, but please watch this movie.

Originally posted by wayofthinking

Ummm I guess I’m gonna send this along to the people I already tagged, @abutterflyobsession @jaegereska @may10baby and also @fandomizedwonderland @thetrendywitch @pkmndaisuki for shits and giggles.

anonymous asked:

thoughts on phanthony collab? i thought it was so good and they worked well together. i'll admit i was kind of nervous because phil's chemistry can be hit or miss with people but this was so nice and calm i loved it

yessss omg these american youtubers are the only ppl who apparently truly understand fan service and keep giving the people what we actually want!!!!!!! this vid was just 10 mins of phil being soft and fawning over a cute dog and also a cute boy :( i love it so much. their sense of humor actually rly did blend so well, and anthony was so receptive to phil being his quirky self and phil was so calm and gentle and not over-performing!!! plus like just the aesthetics alone are top-notch, the way anthony colors his videos is gorgeous, and they’re both beautiful humans, and phil in that jacket is nearly painfully lovely hahaha. i just wrote out thoughts on my fav moments while watching so i’ll paste those: 

  • lmao @ anthony smooching the drawing of phil right on the mouth. why is he so flirtatious with both dan and phil it’s genuinely so funny 
  • phil sounds .. so good …. over the phone
  • ‘phil, i was trying out a new nickname for you. phil .. me up’ damn anthony is relentless, i need to take notes
  • that firm hug when phil first arrives, wow what a man
  • at 3:48 when they’re figuring out how they’re going to make the sweater and phil just starts barking and tickles anthony’s neck .. i love that he is just so phil and doesn’t rly try to filter that, like he is so unique and somehow mixes that in w being touchy and cute whenever he’s around people and it’s so fun to watch how other ppl react to it tbh. i love that anthony just rolls with it and giggles and plays along. this + all the flirting is why the chemistry is There people
  • i love that the first things phil thinks of for how to make the sweater special are glitter and sparkles
  • phil can’t whistle. did we know that? i don’t think i knew that
  • phil’s shaky hands :( he’s always had shaky hands when he’s slightly under pressure and you can see it in videos sometimes and i think it was so cute that he kind of pointed it out himself here and then just laughed and brushed it off :((( i love him 
  • 4:26 instantly iconic moment of phil almost calling anthony ‘dan’ but cutting himself off at the last moment hahahaha tragic
  • ‘pet me anthony’ ok i can’t fault my mans for availing himself of this opportunity to just go all out and flirt w a pretty boy in his distinctly phil style
  • anthony joins the legions of men before him who have touched phil’s skin and instantly commented on how soft it is. phil immediately offers up that he moisturizes in the same proud tone as always and i am more in love than ever before and more bitter too bc when will phil do an actual comprehensive run-down of his skincare routine
  • ‘let me phil you in’ … apparently he crossed a line with that one anthony looks disgusted ahahaha .. same tbh
  • 5:53 phil listening to anthony talk with his hands pressed to his cheeks is maybe cuter than anything in this video 
  • phil refusing to even write the word bitch and anthony nearly crying with laughter bc of it is a Big Mood
  • phil adding a doodle of some lips to the ‘chic bitch’ is an even bigger mood he’s so fucking funny and good omg
  • phil saying ‘helloooo’ to the pup :(((( end me :( 
  • the cute high pitched voice he uses when he says ‘we made you a little sweater’!!!!!!!!!!!! fuck!!!!!!!!!! little sweater!!!!!!!!!! there are tears in my eyes!!!!!!!!
  • phil’s assessment: roux hates the sweater bc it has foul language and no glitter, and it’s made out of something anthony’s crotch has pressed against djfksdfjskdfj his  mind is a marvel. this video is a marvel

i loved everything so much it was so soft and good :( feelin nothing but grateful to anthony for including dnp in such nice lil videos :((( truly a talent i owe him my life now

Hold Me Tight | Pt. 1

( can you trust me? )

Part 1 | Part 2

Anonymous requested: Hwarang AU + Royalty/Servant AU
Pairing: Taehyung | Reader
Genre: Angst/Fluff; Royalty AU + Soulmate AU (in which you know they’re your soulmate when you touch them for the first time + share extreme physical sensation after you meet)
Word Count: 5,930
Author’s Note: The original request… did not call for a Soulmate AU but I thought to myself hey what would make this more interesting and 10x more painful and thus, this concept was born. I actually got around to watching some of Hwarang before writing this, so I feel a little more qualified for this—but you don’t need to have previous knowledge of the show before reading this. Thank you @cheymint for dealing with my initial worry over the world building, I hope this satisfies!

Summary: Kim Taehyung is expected to spend the rest of his life within the company of nobility after joining the ranks of the kingdom’s newest royal guard. He anticipates alot of new experiences, new people… but the spark of a touch more powerful than anything before in his life is definitely not one of them—from the shadows of maids and housekeepers nonetheless.

.

The morning greeting comes has it always does within the household: a pounding fist against his headboard as the blanket is ripped off Taehyung’s body. His natural instinct is always the same, which is to curl in upon himself as he lets out the faintest groan of dissatisfaction. “Must you always do that hyung?” The boy inquires, barely offering a side glance to the culprit of his current state of further exhaustion.

Standing above him with the edges of the blanket curled up underneath fingers, Kim Namjoon grins wickedly, already dressed in his robes for the morning lessons. “You know that without me, you’d be late to all your lessons. So step on it. Or do I have to call in Hoseok to help—?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m up,” Taehyung interjects, internally cringing at the thought of Hoseok being called in for assistance in trying to get him out of bed. The boy may have been older than both himself and Namjoon, but more often than not had the tendency to act like a child and Taehyung did not wish to start the day with Hoseok jumping on his bed.

Namjoon laughs at that, throwing the blanket off to the side. “Hurry up alright? You know Master Wooreuk won’t be happy to see you late again.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Taehyung dismisses with a wave, sliding to the front of the bed just as Namjoon slides open the door separating the bedroom with the long hallway before his footsteps become the only thing he can hear along the Hwarang household. With a grunt, Taehyung straightens up, laying out his robes for the morning lesson as he gets to work dressing.

Keep reading

veritatem inquirendam [seek the truth] (frank castle)

(gif source)

(original request: AU in which Frank is younger, and he and reader are college students. There’s a heated debate in class and everyone disagrees with Frank except the reader. After that, Frank starts paying more attention to the reader and hanging out with her after class, until he realizes he’s falling in love but she has no idea he is until her best friend tells her.)

(this is terrible i LOVE college frank i love this soft soft boy. what a nerd. i hate him. no warnings on this one except mentions of food and some sexism early in the story!!!)

(tagslist: @doct0rstrange, @caryled, @kurtwxgners, @atari-writes ! if i’ve forgotten you or you wanna be added to the tagslist, just send me a message!!! <3)


The professor is wrong. She knows it, but she can’t say it. You can’t say “you’re fucking wrong” in front of a classroom of fourty kids. Instead of speaking her mind, she bites her tongue and clicks the cap of her pen up and down, up and down, trying to tune out the professor’s voice.

Keep reading

First Day of School

Characters: Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Words: 1500

Tags: @evyiione@fabulouslycassie, @daughters-and-winsisters, @darkestgrungeuniverse, @samanddeanshotsis, @winchesters-favorite-girl

A/N: Decided I wanted to post something more innocent/less angsty after that last fic :)

Originally posted by deanimagines67

Your name: submit What is this?

You and Dean stood outside of the classroom, your hand in Dean’s much larger one. Other kids and their parents poured into the room which walls were dressed in drawings and colorful posters of the alphabet. It was the start of the school year, and unsurprisingly it was also the first day of a new school for the both of you.

”You ready?” Dean asked as he looked down at you, and his green eyes was met by your round ones.

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Just a Glimpse

(Steve Rogers x Reader) Soulmate AU

Word Count: 8592

Summary: Every person is born with the image of their soulmate firmly fixed in their mind, but when the super soldier serum causes Steve to lose all but faint memories of the face he is meant to one day love, he begins to lose hope of ever finding you. In present day, you are one of the many people inoculated with a suppressor meant to ease your pressure to find The One by ridding you of your soulmate visions. Will fate still find a way to bring you together?

Warnings: Language, little bit of angst and pining, but it’ll be okay, I promise. Super mega sappy fluff

A/N: This is my piece for @howlingbarnes Languages of Love birthday challenge based on the prompt “Koi No Yokan: The instantaneous feeing of meeting someone and knowing that the two of you are destined to fall in love. Not love at first sight, just knowing that you will one day fall in love with them.” The destiny bit really got me going. I’ve always wanted to try my hand at a soulmate AU.

Originally posted by 08s


Ever since Steve could remember he had always been able to see your face the moment he closed his eyes. It was what got him out of bed on his worst days: knowing that he hadn’t met you yet, that today could be the day. And it never bothered him that as he got older, more and more of the people his age found their soulmates, finally picked that face out of the crowd that had been etched so deeply into their minds, into their very beings, since day one. No, he wasn’t worried. He would find you when the time was right.

Steve’s main conflict came in the form of his artistic inclinations. He wanted so badly to draw you, paint you, have some real physical evidence of your existence, but he couldn’t. It was considered bad luck to try to capture you soulmate’s image on paper before you met them. Some even went so far as to claim that doing so nullified the forces that eventually brought all soulmates together, that to have a physical representation of your soulmate was to, in effect, replace the first meeting. Steve didn’t intend to take any chances.

Bucky teased him about it, saying it was a silly superstition that only old women and children believed in, but when Steve would respond with an offer to draw Bucky’s soulmate for him, he would only raise his hands in surrender with a playful smirk. And so, Steve settled for daydreaming, living for the day he would finally find you, meet you, fall in love with you.

Keep reading

6

A follow up to the posts about the Nazi art (drawn by a Klance artist), the Pride Parade Klance sign & all those edits where Sheith scenes in canon got turned into Klance ROMANTIC scenes by people who constantly spam “I ONLY SEE THEM AS BROTHERS, BROGANES, THAT’S SUCH A PLATONIC BROGANES SCENE” everywhere.

NOTE: This is referring to the Klancedom, NOT Klance shippers. If you do NOT do any of these things, this post is NOT talking about you.

This interview has been approved of by MisterPoofOfficial (names were blacked out at her request).

Do NOT harass any of these people in the screenshots.

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Something I found while cleaning out my computer files! I wanted to color it, but now I think it’s okay like this lol

I really love this part in Breath of the Wild~

anonymous asked:

Can you do 53 and 33 for Montgomery de la Cruz?

Hell yeah I can! Also bless your soul for requesting something and giving me something to do ily 💕

33. The door’s locked.

53. Take your shirt off.

The door’s locked,” Montgomery relays apprehensively, his head turning to glance at the girl standing behind him. 

“The fuck you mean it’s locked,” she hisses, pushing past him to see for herself. Sure enough the handle jingles tightly in her hand but does not completely twist. The music is too loud for anyone to hear them pounding on the door. She had come upstairs to take a breather from the party, not to get locked in Jessica Davis’s bedroom with Montgomery De La Cruz. 

“You gonna talk to me now? Ya know, since we’re kind of stuck in here together. Or are you gonna continue to avoid me?” he asks, leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“I’m not avoiding you,” her eyes drop from his face to the floor, voice wavering. Lying has never been her strong suit.

They had been partnered together for a project in biology, and much to her surprise they got along great. She was cold towards him at first, since her prior interactions with him had been him checking her out in the hallway and her rolling her eyes whenever she caught him, or when she would stumble across him getting aggressive with someone who did or didn’t deserve it. 

She didn’t want to like him. He’s a dick of the douchiest variety. But not always, not all the time. After many late nights of doing research he got comfortable around her and relaxed. He would crack stupid jokes and make lame puns that made her laugh in-spite of herself. He would randomly ask her questions like “what do you think about multiverse theory?” and “What’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had?” He would let her nap on the couch if she got tired while he continued to search for articles and would wake her up when he came across something that he found particularly exciting. He could be endearing when he wanted to be.

They got close. Closer than she could have anticipated. One night the previous week they were making final edits on the project, laughing about this and that. She can’t remember what he said, but she playfully shoved his chest in response and he nudged her shoulder back and she kicked at his leg and then they were rolling around on the floor when he quietly mumbled, “come here,” and she teasingly responded with, “I don’t think I can really get much closer,” to which he whispered, “I think you can.” And then he kissed her.

She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wondered what it would be like to kiss the infamous Montgomery De La Cruz. He was a prick, but a gorgeous one at that. All of the eye rolls and shit talking in the world couldn’t change the fact that given the opportunity, most of the girls at Liberty High would sell their soul to kiss the devil himself.

It was sweet. He had pulled her flush against his chest and let his hands play at her sides while she climbed onto his lap, resting her one hand at the side of his neck and letting the other run down his arm. It wasn’t what she would have expected. But he wasn’t what she expected either. 

That was all it was. Just one kiss. Nothing more. He didn’t push it further and neither did she. When she pulled away he had this soft smile on his lips and a serene look in his eyes that she had never seen before. He looked so calm, so at peace. And it made her heart melt. 

But he was still Monty, and she knew what everyone in the school thought of him, and what they would think of her if this progressed into anything more than a one time kiss. It was hypocritical, to desire someone but damn anyone who actually got something. Nonetheless, she pulled away. Avoiding him since then. She didn’t want to be the type to care what other people thought, but they could be so damn cruel, and she had kept such a pristine image so far. 

“Seriously?” Monty snaps, pulling her out of her thoughts, “I’m literally the only other person in here and you’re still pretending like I don’t exist.”

“I’m very much aware of your existence,” she quips, sitting on the edge of Jessica’s bed. She notices a variety of colored sharpies on the nightstand.

“You’re just choosing to ignore it,” he rolls his eyes.

“I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?” she raises an eyebrow, feigning casualty. 

He snorts, running a hand through his hair. “I’m all you’ve got right now, so it doesn’t count for much.”

“Didn’t think you’d care all that much,” she shrugs, leaning over to grab the colorful assortment of sharpies.

“I kissed you and then you started avoiding me like the plague. How could I not care?!” his voice raises in exasperation.

“Because you’re you,” her tone is serious as she looks him straight in the eye.

“Yeah, yeah my reputation sucks. I’m awful,” he glowers.

“Only sometimes. You can be sweet when you want to be,” she offers.

“Not sweet enough for it to matter apparently.”

Take your shirt off.”

“What?” he asks, taken aback. This conversation has taken an abrupt turn.

“I’m gonna draw on you,” she shakes the sharpies in her hand, “Gotta pass the time somehow.”

He’s somewhat startled and confused by the request, but his shirt still comes off as he makes his way over to the bed. He lies on his back as she straddles his lap, dragging the tip of a green sharpie down his side. She draws twisting vines with sharp thorns that could tear your skin if you got too close. But she also draws blooming roses that smell so sweet you can’t help but drift closer. It’s dangerous and beautiful, terrifying and inviting. It’s a lot like Monty.

“You’re sending out some mixed signals you know,” he looks up at her as she shades in a petal. One minute she’s ducking around corners to bypass his gaze and the next she’s straddling his half naked body.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters, her lip stuck between her teeth in concentration, “I like you, but your reputation is hard to swallow.”

He nods in understanding, watching her use him as a canvas. “Can I draw on you?”

“Sure,” her eyes widen a bit in surprise. “Where?”

“Your back,” he explains as she rolls off him and he sits up, switching places.

She turns away from him, sliding her shirt off and unhooking her bra before laying chest down on the bed. He picks up a sharpie and she feels the cool ink on her skin. A shiver runs down her spine at the sensation. It’s a large design that takes up a majority of the two sides of her back. It feels like he’s drawing wings. 

“Angel wings?” she asks, twisting her head at an attempt to get a look at him.

“Good guess,” he grins, nodding in affirmation. 

“Why?” she laughs, “Cause I’m so etherial?”

“Something like that,” he laughs, his one hand gripping her side tightly to keep her still. She likes the feeling of his skin on hers.

“Can you keep a secret? she asks, biting her lip as she waits for a response.

“What kind of secret?” he asks, sitting back so his weight isn’t holding her down as much.

She rolls over so she’s facing him, reaching up to place one hand at the back of his neck. Her lips press against his in the most inviting way, making his eyes shut instinctively as he leans into it.

“Yeah,” he breathes out heavily, moving to hover over her as his arms wrap around her back to press their bare chests together tightly. “I can keep a secret.”


*Sorry that turned out to be way longer than a drabble, I got a little carried away*

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Human Shield - A SuperCorp fic

I don’t always have time to make complete comics. I work. A LOT. But this was a really interesting idea I wanted to explore. And @luthoring​ encouraged me, sooooo… here you go.

Beyond the cut is the result, expanding on this comic. Written entirely from Lena’s perspective.

Fair warning: there is violence, injury, and angst. 

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In the Rough

(based on this) part 1 (you are here), part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8



There’s a lot about Mari that Yuuri loves. In fact, he’d go so far as to say that he loves his sister more than almost anyone else, except maybe his parents. Despite their six year age difference, neither of them have ever had any other kids to really interact with. As such, each of them were the other’s best and only friend. But the fact has always remained that Mari is older than Yuuri. One day, he’s always known, she will be the queen of Yutopia. What he didn’t expect was for that day to come so quickly, or have such a profound effect on their relationship.

It was gradual at first: Mari turning him away from her door when he asks her to help him with his studies, Mari spending more and more time in the library with her own when she was never the best of students before, Mari lashing out at him when he actually gets the courage to press for her attention occasionally. Time and again, Mother assures him that it’s just the responsibility of being the crown princess that’s weighing on her. Still, Yuuri can’t help if he’s lonely.

That’s what led to this.

“Not now, Yuuri.” Mari is sounding increasingly irritated with him, but he can’t really seem to stop himself. It’s been months since they’ve had a proper conversation.

“It will only take a minute, I promise!”

“I don’t have a minute!” she finally snaps, rounding on him. “I don’t have a minute to myself because the coronation is so soon. What on earth makes you think that I have time to spare for you? Don’t be such a clingy child!”

Yuuri silently curses the way his eyes well up with tears. “I… Excuse me.”

“Yuuri, wait. I didn’t mean–” He can hear her calling out to his back, but the words don’t really register.

Being too overbearing has always been Yuuri’s biggest fear; he’s emotional and soft in a way that no self-respecting royal should ever be. Mari knows this, and used it against him. He really must be too much if she of all people is telling him so. He can just leave her alone until after the coronation. Maybe longer, if it looks like she’s feeling too overwhelmed by his presence. He has an outfit that he uses sometimes when palace life is too much for him and he sneaks out to go to town. He can use that to sneak out. He can take a horse, a sword, and some money, and hide out somewhere until everything blows over in a couple of months.

It doesn’t take Yuuri long to slip past the guards and get off the castle grounds. He’s done it countless times before, once even smuggling Prince Phichit out with him. He slips out the back way, through the forest. Everyone in town knows his face, and most of his subjects do too; it will be best to avoid people for a while.

Of course, that doesn’t mean that he’s brave enough to stray from the path. The woods between this and the next kingdom are deep, and more than one traveller has gotten lost within them, or attacked by robbers. If his maps are right, he’ll be able to get to the next kingdom within a fortnight.

Sleeping on the forest floor is irritating, but hardly anything new; this isn’t the first time that Yuuri has disappeared for a few days, even if it’s the first time that he’s planning on leaving the kingdom without permission. By the eighth day, Yuuri’s rations are beginning to get a bit low. He’s grimy, there are leaves and twigs in his hair, and his ratty cloak is rattier than ever. Still, he doesn’t turn back. At this point, going home would create more distress than it would relieve. If need be, he can just… kill a rabbit or something. There’s a stream less than ten minutes from the path, and making a fire is no problem. He can make it to the next kingdom.

The sound of a carriage jolts him out of his thoughts. He darts back into the trees, hiding in a bush. He still hasn’t crossed the Yutopia border, so it’s possible– probable, even –that the driver of that carriage knows who Yuuri is. As the carriage draws closer, Yuuri can make out little details that start to change his mind. Its blue, for one thing, and only a single carriage; most trader caravans are made up of several plain wagons with faded paint.

Yuuri hears rustling behind him. In less than a second, the quiet rustling becomes shouting. Bandits. Seven men attack the carriage from all sides, one even jumping from a tree to land on top of the carriage. Yuuri doesn’t even realize that he’s drawing his sword until it’s already out.

The door to the carriage flies open and two men– one man and one boy, really, no more than thirteen –jump out, weapons drawn and ready. The boy shouts something that sounds like “Stay the fuck there or I’m telling Dad,” but Yuuri can’t focus too much on him. He’s taken down one of the robbers, but there’s another one coming at him.

It takes the three of them nearly twenty minutes to knock out all of the robbers, and when they do, they’re panting.

“Thank you for the help.” The dark-haired man from the carriage holds out his hand for Yuuri to shake. “We might not have made it without you.”

“It–It was nothing, really.” Yuuri holds up his hands, as if that will deflect the praise. “I was just trying to help. Anyone would have done the same.”

“Tch.” The boy sheaths his sword. Now that Yuuri has a chance to look at him, he’s amazed. The boy is beautiful, almost fairy-like, but he fights like a demon. He’s also dressed like a royal. “At least you didn’t get in the way.”

Yuuri doesn’t quite know how to respond to that, but as it turns out, he doesn’t have to. There’s a laugh from inside the carriage and someone else exits. This man is definitely a royal, and it’s possible that he’s even more beautiful than the boy. They must be related, with their strangely colored hair and eyes.

“That’s high praise coming from you, Yuratchka.” The man looks Yuuri up and down, and Yuuri has to force himself not to blush. “I’ve decided. He’ll be my new bodyguard. I’ve been needing a new one, and I can’t bear to see my beloved younger brother fight on my behalf anymore.”

The man swoons dramatically, but it looks like he’s actually about to fall. Neither of his companions make a move to catch him, and neither does the driver, a woman with bright, fiery red hair. Yuuri is there before he knows it, catching the man before he can actually fall to the ground.

He finds himself looking into the most piercing pair of eyes that he’s ever seen. His eyes inexplicably heat up and Yuuri can tell that if he looks for too long, he’ll be overwhelmed; those eyes can see straight into his soul.

“Be careful,” Yuuri manages.

The man flicks a piece of silver hair out of his eyes and smiles, standing up straight. “Yes, he’ll do nicely. I’m keeping him.”

He ends up on the floor a second later anyway, courtesy of the flying kick that the boy– his younger brother, Yuuri reasons –aims at his back. “Don’t just assume that some random man in the forest is trustworthy enough to be your bodyguard! Think this through, old man!”

“I’m only twenty two,” the man pouts from the ground. “You’re so mean, Yuratchka. Besides, he saved my life, and he doesn’t seem to have anywhere to go. Dad will allow it.”

Yuratchka rolls his eyes and walks over to the carriage. “Whatever. You might want to ask him what his name is before you ask him to risk his life for you though.”

The door slams and Yuuri is still a little confused. The man is still on the ground, the dark haired man from earlier is sheathing his sword without a care in the world, apparently used to this sort of behavior.

“He has a point!” Silver-Haired Man bounces up and picks the twigs out of his hair. “If you’re my new bodyguard, I must know your name.”

“Yuuri,” he says without thinking. Then he realizes that giving his true last name could be a very bad idea. “Yuuri… Nishigori.”

Silver-Haired Man introduces himself as Victor Nikiforov, the crown prince of the neighboring kingdom. The fairy-like boy with the foul mouth is indeed his brother, Prince Yuri. The other man is Georgi Popovich, Yuri’s personal bodyguard, and their driver is called Mila. The four of them have apparently been travelling together nearly all of Yuri’s life.

The reality of what he’s just inadvertently agreed to doesn’t hit until he’s sitting in the carriage with them later: he’s agreed to become the personal bodyguard to the crown prince of the neighboring kingdom, who would no doubt know his name but not his face. Yuuri can’t help but wonder how he’s going to get himself out of this one without causing himself and everyone around him massive embarrassment.

Luckily, he has several months to come up with a solution.

the little things in life - part 1

summary: One of Roman’s adventures takes an interesting turn, resulting in Logan coming back looking much different than before.

characters: logan, patton, virgil, roman

pairings: none

warnings: age regression; some intrusive thoughts; thoughts of injury (very brief); thoughts of choking on food (very brief); mention of death (very brief)

word count: 1,968

a/n: a cute piece inspired by @mewsicalmiss‘s adorable hcs and @pirate-patton‘s own fic based off of them. this got a little long so I decided to break it up into a few chapters. hope you guys enjoy!

tag list: @tinysidestrashcaptain @logan-logic @holdnarrytight @the-sanders-snides @darude-sanderstorm @mewsicalmiss @thegoldenmink @cefmua56 @madd-catter @amazable01@camillenicole @dudlebuggs @evilmuffin


“He’s so small! Ah, I just wanna scoop him right up!”

“I hate to admit it, but he’s just downright adorable! And he hardly talks as much as he used to. I shall chalk this up as an improvement!”

Virgil opened his mouth to protest; he closed it in favor of screwing his face into an expression that was near impossible to describe, but perfectly conveyed his character.

“What?” he finally burst out. “No! We can’t keep him like this. Do you think Thomas is gonna have any idea how to do anything?”

Roman groaned, shoulders sliding into a dejected position. “Fine. I suppose you do have a point. The only thing is…how do we fix…this?”

He gestured to their current problem, which sat on the couch.

This problem happened to be a very displeased Logan, who was now reduced to the state of about a two-year-old, courtesy of a glittering crystal lake he had fallen into after being dragged along on one of Roman’s adventures.

He was small, he was clumsy, he was—

Well, to be quite honest, he was the most adorable thing any of them had ever seen.

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