at any rate like

The hero’s bond

I absolutely love the fact that Wolf Link is in Breath of the wild. So much so that I thought it would have been even better to have had regular TP Link helping BOTW Link during his quest. 

So naturally I though of the possible conversations they would probably have, and after some daydreaming I made the connection that they have both had “almost something” relationships.  

And then BOOM! This came out of my head, to my drawing pad, then to your eyes!

I might actually keep making these if I think of some more stuff like this.

But at any rate, hope you like my art!

Edit: I have started the series, give it a look why dontcha?

The hero’s bond “Teamwork” Part-1

Humans in spaaaaace

Had this thought last night as I lay falling asleep. We have all these space-exploration-ensemble shows with a bunch of aliens each of which has some sort of super-human power, more or less. And humans are always given ~leadership~ as their special power. The ability to bring people together, to organize shit, and I always thought, like…what a shitty power. What a shitty colonial “you were a mess until we came in and saved you” power. Drives me nuts. Seems like if an alien species builds a got-damn ship that can fly through got-damn space they probably have their shit together, right? At least somewhat?

So then I figure, what is humanity got to contribute to all these super-beings? We’re just nonsense reckless critters careening through space. Seems like we’d be more trouble than we’re worth.

But what if…I mean, what if that’s us. We’re the universe’s huckleberries. We’ll run headlong into danger, and we’ll *laugh*. And what if…what if we survive and a weirdly abnormally high rate. Like any alien with two bits of math can put together that we should have wiped ourselves out a long time ago with the first set of “hold my beer, and watch this.” So what the shit, how are we still banging around the universe building shit and flying off solar ramps into the sun while doing some spaceship equivalent of an ollie while crushing beer cans on our forehead. Why. Why do we exist.

And then it hits me. We survive. We’re super good at it. Uncannily good at it. So much so that we…I mean, we actually bend probability in our favor. It’s absurd. And it totally falls flat if you actually tell us this (“Never tell me the odds,” said Solo, knowing full well that knowing the odds kills a human’s chances of survival).

So there we are. Careening around the universe. Joining alien crews because they know that with a human on board, especially a cocky human in some kind of leadership position, can warp probability to stretch success in their favor. And they can never ever tell us this. So instead they just pat our heads and tell us we’re just so good at ~leadership~ and that’s what makes humans special

But really…we’re just a bunch of space dinguses.

Michael Jordan would be proud of this Seed Line, you know, because it’s from Typewriter Series #23 and all. At any rate, for any of you out there that feel like they cannot endure any longer: YOU CAN. Please do. Please keep fighting and trying and dragging yourself out of bed if you must. Life gets easier, it gets more beautiful, and all those miracles live right on the other side of ache. I love ya. All of you. Thanks for being so wonderful.

Friendly reminder to everyone that Zeke gave explicit permission to CBS to put out the episode with his outing included. (Scroll down to where it says UPDATE.) They also worked with the trans rights organization GLAAD to make sure the issue was treated properly. Here’s an essay from the man himself about it.

CBS was using the incident for ratings in the same way that they use any argument or serious conflict that happens on the island for ratings. Like come on guys, Survivor’s format is inherently exploitative, and all the players know that. But they weren’t outing Zeke without his consent by putting this on TV, so to be perfectly honest, I don’t think they were doing anything worse than usual.

Varner can still fuck off, though.

anonymous asked:

PLEASE don't share pirated links!!!! It's so hurtful to the people who worked on the show!!!!!

The link I reblogged first lists the official Cartoon Network website, which people who have a television provider can log into and use.

The people who use the downloads are the people w/o a television provider, so it’s not like they could influence the ratings in any case.

anonymous asked:

Hi! For a Klance prompt, Lance or Keith (your pick) gets infected by some alien thing that makes them tell the truth so they admit their feelings for the other person, but after being 'cured' they don't remember doing it? thanks!

For sure! Hope you like it :D


           “Lance, what are you doing – get away from that!” Keith grabbed the back of Lance’s armor and hauled him backward as the flower exploded a white puff in his face, making Lance sneeze violently. He rubbed the residue off his face, inspecting the white smear it left on his glove.

           “It’s just pollen,” he shrugged. Keith glared at him.

           “Do you know how many people are allergic to Earth pollen? Who knows what alien pollen might do to you?” Lance rolled his eyes.

           “You’re being dramatic. Look, I’m fine. I feel better than ever.” Keith narrowed his eyes.

           “Let’s just keep moving,” he said, shifting his grip on his bayard. “We can probably find a cave in those cliffs up there, hole up there for the night, try and contact the team again in the morning.” Lance nodded.

           “After you,” he said, gesturing grandly. Keith just rolled his eyes and set off, hacking a particularly thorny branch away with his sword.

           They made it to a shallow, unoccupied cave in the cliff face with about an hour to spare before sunset and managed to build a fire before it got too dark to see. They negotiated guard duty and Keith got first watch, leaving Lance to stretch out and go to sleep beside the fire. Except, in typical Lance fashion, he started to talk instead.

           “I’ve never built a fire before. I never thought I would have to,” he said. Keith groaned quietly.

           “Lance, we’ve got a long night ahead of us. You should really try to get some sleep.”

           “I never went camping as a kid. My family didn’t have the money to make a trip like that.”

           “You can tell me about it later. If you absolutely must,” he added under his breath. “Just please be quiet.”

           “We thought it was fancy when they managed to take us out to dinner and a movie. That was a big day. There were four of us plus my parents, and that’s a lot of kids to pay for, so we couldn’t do it very often. But camping was never an option. My sister really wanted to do it. She begged my parents for months. But they wouldn’t let her. It was pretty awful to watch how crushed she was, but to tell the truth, I thought she was being selfish.”

           “Lance?” Keith asked. There was something off about Lance’s voice. It sounded too flat and monotone, as if he wasn’t actually hearing what he was saying. Lance continued as if he hadn’t heard Keith.

           “She knew they couldn’t afford to take all of us, so either she wanted to get special treatment and go without us, or she was just being a whiny brat and harassing my parents because she got fed up with having no money all the time. I got fed up too, we all did. She could have sucked it up like the rest of us.”

           “Lance.” There was definitely something wrong. Lance never talked about his family like this. Certainly not to Keith, at any rate. He sprung to his feet and walked over to where Lance was flat on his back, eyes glassy and unfocused, staring at the ceiling.

           “Of course I still love her but God did she get on my nerves when we were kids sometimes. But I don’t really think about that these days because I’m so homesick. I just think about all the perfect times we had together. You don’t understand it, you know. I don’t think anyone else on the ship understands how close I am to my family and how much I hate being here sometimes. At least Pidge is trying to get her family back. Voltron just keeps me further away. But you especially don’t understand because you don’t have any family.” Keith slapped Lance hard across the face.

           “Snap out of it!” he growled. “What the hell is…?” He bent closer. Something was glowing faintly white on the edges of Lance’s nostrils. The flower. It had infected him or something, and now he was talking without any kind of filter. “I told you that alien pollen was bad news,” he groaned, rubbing his forehead. Lance’s eyes were still just as glassy as before. He barely seemed to register the fact that he had been slapped.

           “It makes me miserable how much you hate me,” he said. Keith, in the middle of searching for some kind of leaf or cloth or anything he could use to try and scrape the gunk off Lance’s nose, paused.

           “You think I hate you?” he asked.

           “Yes,” Lance said. He started at receiving a direct answer and slowly turned back to Lance.

           “Why do you think I hate you?”

           “Because you’re so much better than me, and I annoy you by trying to compete with you. You know you can win so it’s a waste of your time.” Keith sat down heavily.

           “Lance, no. That’s not… that’s not…”

           “Of course I realized recently that the real reason I want to compete with you is because I want you to notice me,” he continued, “because I’ve had an awful crush on you since the Garrison. I thought I just wanted people to think I could be as good as you, but the real issue is that I like you a lot and I’m terrified of you finding out because I know you’ll just laugh at me.” Keith covered his ears.

           “I don’t want to hear this,” he moaned. “Lance, please, stop talking.”

           “I think you’re the most talented and beautiful person I’ve ever met and I started fantasizing about kissing you about two months ago. I even love the mullet even though I still think it’s ridiculous that you have it. I keep flirting with aliens to distract myself but I only do it because I know I won’t have any success. I don’t want to actually date anyone but you.” Keith’s head was between his knees. He wasn’t supposed to be hearing this. It wasn’t fair the way Lance’s confession made his heart speed up in his chest, made him think of the times they’d both caught each other staring lately, made him remember Lance saving his life on their most recent mission and brushing it off like it was nothing. It wasn’t fair to Lance. “I think I might love you, Keith, and I’ve cried twice about the fact that you could never love me back.” Lance’s speech ceased abruptly, leaving a few seconds of silence. “I’m tired. I’m going to sleep now,” he announced, and closed his eyes. Keith heaved a sigh of relief, coming over with a leaf to rub away the white residue on his nose. He dropped a hand on Lance’s shoulder.

           “You do that, Lance,” he said. “You do that.”

***

           Lance woke up to morning light groggy and with the worst crick in his neck he’d ever had. He sat up, yawned, and noticed Keith sitting at the edge of the cave, staring off into the woods. He frowned.

           “Dude, why didn’t you wake me up for guard duty?” he asked. “Have you been sitting there awake all night?” Keith jumped at the sound of Lance voice, turned to look at him, and scrambled to his feet.

           “Lance!” he said. “Are you… You seem normal?” Lance blinked.

           “Yeah, why… why wouldn’t I be?” Keith hovered uncertainly, unsure whether or not to move forward.

           “Do… do you not… do you remember last night?”

           “Yeah, we planned for guard duty, you said you’d wake me up in a few hours, and then you just never did! Come on, man, let people help you sometimes, you’re going to be exhausted now.” Keith bit his lip.

           “So… nothing else?” Lance stared.

           “What happened?”

           “Nothing!” Keith said hurriedly. His cheeks were slightly red for some reason. “I… I tried to wake you up but I couldn’t. You were too sound asleep. So yeah, I’ve been awake all night, asshole.” The insult was only half-hearted and didn’t really seem to land. Lance blinked.

           “Okay,” he said. “Well, we probably better see if we can’t find a way to signal the castle. It looked like there were settlements further up the cliff, let’s see if we can find some alien friends.” Keith nodded in agreement, heading to stamp out the fire. As Lance gathered his Paladin armor, he kept glancing sideways at his rival and his friend, wondering what had really happened last night – and why Keith was lying.

[I am no longer accepting prompts, just completing the ones in my inbox]

multi-villain-imagines  asked:

I would absolutely love some Leonard Snart x Reader. Would you consider writing one? With the sentence starter: "I just wanna help you relax" With a little bit of flirting and sexual suggestions.? And smut if you feel like it 😉

So here is my first attempt at a Leonard Snart thingy. I was trying to try to keep it more in character for him, not sure how well I did with that aspect. It’s a little fluffy, I ended up leaving it open to the imagination on what happens next, smut no doubt. But I hope you like it, if not I’ll be happy to try again. (I stuck the sentence elsewhere in the story with minor tweaking.)



Relaxing Visit

          “What are you doing?” Snart asked as he watched you remove his shoes. You stood up and carried them over to the closet and dropped them in the basket. Everyone knows to put their shoes there, even Mick. Snart just chooses to ignore it.

          “You know the rules of my house, Lenny.”

          “Leonard.”

          “I know your name.” You came back with two opened bottles of beer.

          “Yet, you continue to call me Lenny.” He frowned as he accepted the bottle. “Is your fridge broken? It’s warm.”  

           “It isn’t broken, I just got home an hour before you called, it didn’t have enough time to chill is all. I would have stuck them in the freezer, but the last time I did that you were a no show. And I fell asleep, I’m still finding shards of glass in my freezer, Lenny.”

           “I apologized for that.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Okay I sent my apologies with Mick.”

           “Yeah, Mickey was real smooth with your apologies.”

           “Maybe if you called people by their actual names they’d be more pleasant.” Snart snarked at you before sipping his beer.

           “Oh, he was very pleasant. Very friendly. And a little handsy.” You kept your face neutral.

           “I thought he wasn’t your type.” You weren’t sure but you thought you detected a hint of annoyance in his tone, it was too much to hope it was jealousy.

           “I can’t help it if he finds me attractive, at least someone notices me.” You noticed his grip on the beer had tightened.

           “(y/n), I don’t come here to listen to you go on about your dalliances with my partner.” Snart put his beer down, you could hear the annoyance in his tone now.

           “Then why do you come over, Lenny? I know it isn’t to just track dirt all over my pretty rugs.” Snart would never say why he was coming over, just that he was and you never really pressed for a response to the question, he always ignored it at any rate.

           “Maybe, I like coming here to relax.” He sighed. You put down your beer and stood up, “What are you doing, now?” His eyes followed you as you moved closer to him. You sat down in his lap dangling your legs over the arm of the chair, Snart slid an arm behind your back. You nuzzled into his neck. You felt him tense up as you kissed his neck. “Why are you doing that?” You smiled because he wasn’t asking you to stop.

           “Maybe, I just want to help you relax.”

           “It isn’t exactly helping me relax, (y/n).” He brought his free hand over to brush some hair off your face. “Is this how you help, Mick relax?” That smug little smile of his softened his features just a bit, he knew you were pulling his leg about Mick.

           “We both know he isn’t my type, Len–” Snart cut you off with a kiss. It started out soft, but then he bit your lip softly and you parted your lips slightly, giving Snart the invitation he wanted. His fingers sliding through your hair. Pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.

         Finally breaking the kiss so you could both catch your breath, Snart ran his thumb along your jaw. “I think we’ve dragged out this game long enough, don’t you, kitten?”  You nodded, “Should we move to somewhere more…” He glanced in the direction of your bedroom, “Relaxing?”

Two Keys

Title: Two Keys – Warmth Series Part Three

Characters/Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam

Word Count: 2100

Reader Gender: Female

Warnings: The reader is injured, stitches, mentions of a body, blood, some swearing.

Summary: The Reader comes home from the hunt injured and Dean stitches her up.

Author’s Note: Woohoo, part three! I’m still blown away by all the lovely comments you guys are leaving about this series, I’m so happy you’re enjoying it! And before you read this please remember that there’s still one more part (that might be out this weekend?) before you freak out *slips ominously into the shadows*

Please send me an Ask or add yourself to This List if you want to be tagged in the final part of this!

Read the previous parts here: Two Beds (Part 1), Two Shirts (Part 2)

If you would like to read any of my other fics please check out my Masterlist!

*I made the gif from a YouTube video, sorry if it sucks!*

     Eventually you did get up, leaving the warmth and comfort of the bed – and Dean – and dragging two grumpy Winchesters out the door, resigning them to your same chilly fate. You made sure to be dressed and ready to go before Sam woke up, not wanting him to get any premature ideas about something going on between you and his brother - not when you didn’t even know if there was anything to get ideas about. You didn’t even know if you wanted there to be.

     You still held strong in your belief that getting involved with a hunter was a bad idea, that it would only end in heartbreak for both involved. But despite that, despite the fact that you’d consoled friends more times than you could count after the loss a loved one on a hunt gone wrong, you couldn’t shake your feelings for Dean. Couldn’t shake the idea that he might feel the same way.

     And if he did, didn’t you owe it to yourself to try?

     At any rate, you had more pressing issues at the moment – like, for example, the four long, bleeding gashes running down your leg.

Keep reading

tigerkat24  asked:

wait hold up you remember the wall coming down? Can I ask you about your memories of the Soviet Union disappearing and how that felt to you? I know how my parents' generation felt about it, and I'm curious to know what the people in between felt. Obviously only if you have time/interest!

Well – okay, yes, I do remember the wall falling, but for some context, I was nine. So while I remember the day the wall came down, it’s mainly because I did not know what the fuck was going on and my parents were very bad about explaining it.  

I was born in 1979. By the time I was aware of the world around me, the cold war was essentially over. I did not grow up, as much of the younger boomer generation and most of GenX did, under continual threat of mutually assured destruction. By which I mean you can hear people a few years older than me talk about how they just assumed they would die in a nuclear armageddon, and I never had that sense. (Until, uh, recently.) I didn’t even have much of a frame of reference when it came to “USSR as a hostile entity” because by the mid-eighties we were actively trying to de-escalate and thus we’d begun the slow migration away from “Russian as default bad guy” in movies. Which I wasn’t allowed to watch anyway. 

To put this in perspective both geopolitically and personally, when the Berlin Wall fell, my maternal grandparents were in Russia, and moreover were on their way to Berlin. I don’t remember my parents, including NOTABLE WORRIER My Mother, even being concerned about this before my grandparents left. Going to Russia in the late eighties as Americans was probably not comfortable but it was possible, and my grandparents did it because Gran was crazy and Packa was ride or die for her. (They asked me what I wanted from Russia and I told them “a hat like the ones Russian soldiers wear!” and fucked if they didn’t bring me back a rabbit-fur earflap hat that Gran got for ten bucks on the black market. How did she find the black market? My grandmother, everyone.) 

So the day the Berlin Wall falls, I emerge from my bedroom expecting the kitchen to be lit and my parents to be cooking breakfast with my baby brother, because that was our normal routine. Instead, I found my parents sitting in the dark, listening to the radio, terrified. I knew something huge and life-changing had happened but I had no idea what, and at the age of nine had no real ability to comprehend it. I didn’t understand the fear of destabilization; I didn’t understand that my parents had lived with the Berlin Wall since they were nine. It seemed like a good thing to me – when the TV news started showing it, everyone in Berlin (wherever that was) seemed really happy about it, so why was every adult I knew so freaked out?

Gran and Packa sent us a telegram later that day telling us they were fine and were on their goddamn way to Berlin because in no universe will the fall of Communism disrupt my Gran’s travel plans, God rest her soul (unlikely). In addition to my awesome rabbit-fur hat, which I still own, they brought us a bag of cement chips from the Berlin Wall. 

Essentially, I had never seen that region of the world as a particular threat. The USSR as an entity held no inherent significance for me, so the end of it – which had been coming for a long time at any rate – did not impact my life, except that for like three years all our geography and history books were out of date. Now, as an adult, I understand its significance and I can see why it must have been terrifying, but there’s no emotional link there for me, and no real memory of it happening, because it had already been in process for years.

So, yeah, I guess that’s about it – I really never knew much about any of it until after it was over, when I was studying it in high school in the late nineties. 

Lams Fic Rec: Fluff

props to all the authors who provide this stuff. they’re the real heros. i’m just here to read all of it. feel free to recommend anything that you think deserves to be on this list. fics aren’t in any particular order.

laurens, i like you a lot, word count 5176, rated explicit

its got a teensy-weensy tiny bit of plot but I thought it was a really cute premise and it got sexy at the end (fake dating au? sort of)

Bold Strokes, word count 1777, rated teen

this!!! Im crying!! Alex thinks john is mad at him but really john just drew alex a bunch of times and feels guilty about it!!! My babies are too much!!

conifer, word count 1748, rated teen

historical lams, this one was so cute!! The emotions were very raw and you could tell how much they cared for each other (warning: gore for bandaging a wound)

And Now, word count 1578, rated teen

very sweet historical lams, complete with a john that needs reassurance and a love confession

visit philadelphia, word count 3575, rated general

wasn’t sure exactly where to categorize this. Historical lams, honestly the dialogue and just alex in general are golden in this one

sharing body heat in the passenger seat, word count 1626, rated teen

this one is very cute and popular! I wish it was longer!!

Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, word count 607, rated general

I love this so much!! Its so cute and fluffy and it’s way too short (aka misunderstandings are my weakness)

take me home, word count 4492, rated teen

this one’s really cute, historical but I’m pretty sure its musical!verse, because a lot of the dialogue is modern. Anyway alex and john are in love and im in love with them being in love

The French Mistake, word count 3043, rated mature

a classic. Washington walks in on alex and john making out so they convince him that it is a customary French greeting, hilarity ensues. Includes Washington/lafayette

anonymous asked:

Wait, you say that Izuku was raised a villain but if the VA hates him then who trained him? You've hinted (got an ask? Idk) that his dad did but I don't think that he could've taught him to do so much *chaos*, could you shed a lil light pls?

whatever answer i settle on will probably inevitably be plot-related but here are a few ideas for who taught izuku 

  • a villain organization in a different district of japan (all for one can’t have a monopoly on sinister villain organizations after all…) 
  • a chaotic neutral con artist who taught izuku their ways after izuku almost pulled the wool over their eyes (and then izuku set his heart on being a villain, but celebrity style – if heroes can do it, why can’t he?) 
  • he wasn’t raised by anyone, he just fell in with some other homeless / street kids and they got really really good at running cons, setting traps, breaking in, etc. izuku figured out how to build a shelter for them, and then how to repair things like water pipes in abandoned buildings, and then he just started tinkering with stuff in the local junkyard and learned how to build his myriad gadgets from [insert convenient OC here] 
  • izuku got drawn into one of those shitty rings where adults use children to run cons for them, and it sucked so izuku schemed a way out for himself. and probably got a lot of useful training just from trying to evade their grasp 
  • an old cynical retired hero 
  • an old cynical former vigilante 
  • the narrative itself instructed izuku in the ways of manipulating the world around him
100% scientific grading of all (most) Dragon Age companions/advisors

ORIGINS

Alistair: Is a sweetheart who does his best and is a fantastic tank and has great hair, great sense of humor, I just want to hug him, rating: A+

Dog: Faithful, loyal, pees on things, (Happy bark!), rating: A+

Leliana: looks like a cinnamon roll but can actually kill you, likes the way you do your hair, is a sweetheart, rating: A+

Morrigan: will put a spell on you (and now you’re hers), #1 witch, becomes a great mom even though her own upbringing wasn’t that great, rating: A+

Oghren: goes into the Deep Roads to try to find his wife, doesn’t give a flying nug, rating: A+

Shale: is a giant rock, great voice, great backstory, rating: A+

Sten: so Qunari he makes the Arishok look small-time, learns over time to respect the Warden, rating: A+

Wynne: #1 Grandma, great healer, is playing the long game so she can troll everyone in Asunder, rating: A+

Zevran: Best accent, beautiful hair and skin complexion, “for you I would march into the Black City itself, never doubt it!”, rating: A+

Loghain Mac Tir: honestly you don’t have a daughter like Anora unless you’re kicking ass and taking names yourself, rating: A+

AWAKENING

Anders: is fucking adorable, will save all cats, ~Anders’ spicy shimmy~, #1 healer but seriously make him an Arcane Warrior for a good time, rating: A+

Justice: Fade spirit just doing his best, wants to help everyone, looks good in plate, rating: A+

Nathaniel Howe: Loves Amaranthine, defends his family but also learns to see their faults, is definitely gonna bang my Cousland on top of his dad’s grave, rating: A+

Oghren: “You joined the Grey Wardens?  Really?”  “You said it would be hot!”  “WE WERE ROLEPLAYING!” rating: A+

Sigrun: oh my god she’s so cute but also smashes darkspawn in the face, DESERVES A BETTER ENDING for sure, rating: A+

Velanna: Goodnight shemlen b/c Velanna is coming for you, doesn’t give any shits, is prob. one of the biggest badasses in the series, rating: A+

DRAGON AGE 2

Anders: WAS RIGHT, fuck the templars, how can one feathermage be so pure, has loved Hawke for three years oh my god? voiced by Adam Howden who donated money to a GoFundMe for my sister’s sick cat (true story), rating: A+

Aveline: WILL TANK ALL OF THEDAS, do no harm but take no shit, will beat Hawke’s ass if necessary, “real nice night for an evening!” rating: A+

Bethany: who’s the best BETHANY’S THE BEST, Hawke’s #1 biggest most supportive fan, definitely best haircare routine and the most pure, rating: A+

Carver: does his best, actually secretly loves Hawke deep down inside, they probably built pillow forts together as kids and were def. best friends, rating: A+

Fenris: best spiky broody elf in any franchise, prob. the smartest individual in the entire Kirkwall Crew honestly, trying his hardest to move on, voiced by Gideon Emery and everything that guy touches turns to gold, rating: A+

Isabela: #1 pirate queen, has a heart of gold and loves Hawke, she just loves Hawke so much????? she’s going to let the Kirkwall Crew live happily ever after on her pirate ship I’m so proud of her, rating: A+

Merrill: dESERVED BETTER in every respect, just wants to help everyone??? Loves Mahariel and Tamlen so mucH?? Merrill/FHawke is such a pure ship omg, rating: A+

Sebastian Vael: definitely tries his best and wants so hard to live up to his name, will shot you with bow, makes that outfit look honestly stylin’, #1 accent in all of the Free Marches, rating: A+

Varric: Actual #1 Bro™, there is no bro who has ever bro’d harder, HIS FRIENDSHIP WITH HAWKE IS honestly, probably the best friendship in any game, like this if you cry every tim, rating: A+

INQUISITION

Blackwall: Can we discuss that beard tho, just doing his best, honestly the best banter, “What can a grey warden do?” “save the fucking world if pressed”, rating: A+

Cassandra: holy shit is htere a bigger badass in Thedas no there is not, did you guys watch the anime holy shit.  if she met Aveline it would be the unstoppable force meets the immovable object honestly, rating: A+

Cole: pure spirit child, “he’s only 12 years old and already more psychic than his dad” - dril, dies a lot when he’s in my party i’m sorry Cole, rating: A+

Dorian: actual most  styling man out there, had to leave Tevinter because he was so damn stylish he was putting the rest of the Imperium to shame, oh my god he’s just like, best friends with your Inquisitor and it’s so?? pure? rating: A+

Iron Bull: lmao it’s over for you if you get in trouble with this guy also the Chargers are basically? great? and he’s so good to Krem?? voiced by a guy who loves this job and loves video games, rating: A+

Sera: is gonna throw bees at your head and is looks good in plaidweave, deserves better, most unique accent in the series, has good taste in ladies, rating: A+

Solas: it was Egg who caused the trouble but honestly he’s doing his best, gets approval anytime you’re nice to like anyone, GREAT artist, i heard there was a secret chord that david played and it pleased the lord but you don’t really care for music do you? it goes like this the fourth the fifth the minor fall the major lift the baffled king composing hallelujah???  rating: A+

Varric: guess who’s back, back again, Varric’s back, and tbh he’s just so good and he helps everyone and is helping the inquisitor b/c he cares so much, rating: A+

Vivienne: WOW has anyone ever looked so goddamn gorgeous, probably not, way too stylish for you plebeians, i only wish i could raise myself to her level, but i also don’t want her to ever lower her standards which she would have to do to even talk to me, rating: A+

Cullen: has been through a lot of shit and come out surprisingly chill, admits his mistakes, loves dogs like all good Fereldans, definitely got that lip scar from Hawke though, rating: A+

Josephine: honestly the best fashion sense in Skyhold, those ruffles though, is very pure?? I just want to cuddle her on the couch forever, make her some rice krispy treats and then take her on a vacation because she deserves it, rating: A+

Leliana: Murderpope best pope, rating: A+

2.1 out of 5.0  [part one]

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Black Mirror Nosedive AU, Smut {angst in later parts}
Warnings: exhibitionism, voyeurism, dirty talk
Summary: You were a 4.9 and he was a 2.1, and that fact alone should have made you realize that the two of you were never meant to be. But as the saying goes, “the heart wants what it wants”.
Word Count: 10k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Keep reading

The Silentbrother’s carriage had always made Tessa feel anxious. The way it drove through objects and over landforms like a ghost, and though she knew that they would pass through the closed gates of the institute, it never ceased to unsettle her.

Today was different though. She was anxious, but for another reason entirely.

She was done up in a simple olive dress that unbuttoned down the front—though it had to be, Tessa mused. Little James seemed to eat more than his father did. Her hair was braided simply and held at the back of her neck by a silver hair pin. She saw no need to dress up for the Silent City, even if Jem was there. He hardly cared for her physical appearance.

Across from Tessa sat her husband, his face obscured by dark curls as his head was bent looking at a small swaddled up bundle in his arms. Will had been that way the entire ride—looking up briefly at Tessa when James would open his eyes or coo the way babies did. Three times already had Will jerked up to exclaim, “Tess. Tessa, look. Look at him. Watch.”

She had smiled and shared his joy, though her mind was elsewhere.

Jem.

She ran over every possible thought that he might have about her and Will’s small son. Happiness for one she was sure. It was Jem, he would always be happy for anything that brought happiness to Will or herself. Though she wondered, that in his secret heart of hearts if perhaps there would be some sadness, or worse, betrayal. She worried what he would think of her baby’s name, James. If he would look at it and think they had named him that as a memoir. That he was only a memory to them, and that they had forgotten he lived still.

Jem had not seen James yet, though he had been to the Institute on account of Will’s broken arm—that for one reason or another couldn’t have been healed with an iratze—when Tessa was eight months with James. Jem had known of the child before of course. It was he who had told her of him when she visited him on Blackfriars Bridge as they did every year.

They had sat against the balustrade of the bridge, hands laced. Tessa knew that he did not feel the physical contact. Not like she did at any rate, but he knew that she could feel it.

They had talked of everything—of her and Will, all the new children that just kept showing up—Cecily and Gabriel’s, Charlotte and Henry’s, Sophie and Gideon’s. She told him all the stories she had stored in her mind over the last year. The ones that she had turned to tell him only to realize that he was not there. That he was far beneath the stones and graves in the Silent City. They had sat almost the whole hour before his voice came in her mind, suddenly different from the tone he had used before. She didn’t imagine that most Silentbrothers really had a tone, and perhaps that was true for the rest, but she could always tell even the slightest change in Jem’s.

Tessa, he had said. And then he had said it. It had been blunt, and she had sat still, her hand going stiff in his, her mind racing. Elation was the first thing she felt. Then worry, and then fear. Was Jem hurt by it? Did he resent the blessing he had given her and Will?

Of course, Jem was there to comfort her and quell the thoughts.

I do not think ill of you, he had said. Neither do I think ill of Will. If there are two people who deserve happiness any more than you both, I could not name them. Will and I were one—we still are at one in our hearts, despite the physical distance, and you share both our hearts as well. To hate my own heart—to not feel joy when my heart does, he paused. Tessa, when you or Will rejoice, I rejoice. When you feel pain, I feel pain. Will once told me that I was his compass, and now it is his turn, and yours, to be my compass. We shared our hearts when we were young, and yours still beats and breaths and burns. And in that way, so does mine. Our hearts beat together, Tessa.

James cooed again and Will let out a laugh and his face broke out into an even larger grin. “Tess. Tess, look.”

She did. Little Jamie had both eyes open, and though they were unfocused as newborns were, he was staring up at Will, two pink chubby arms reaching out. Will laughed as James grabbed at one of his wayward curls, gripping and pulling his father’s head down.

It wasn’t hard for him to grab. Will hadn’t cut his hair and had hardly shaved in the last months of her pregnancy and the days following the delivery. He had been so worried and anxious and excited—more so than even herself.

“He’s got a good grip,” Will said, still laughing. Tessa moved over to the side he was seated on and leaned over his shoulder to peer down at their son. What they had created together.

“Hello Jamie,” she said rubbing back his dark wisps, the same color as his father’s, from his face. She would have held him, but she could not bear to take him away from Will. Ever since he had arrived Will had hardly set him down or given anyone else a turn, except for Tessa of course, though she had let him keep James for the most part, which usually included any time he wasn’t eating or sleeping, and even then he liked to hold him as he slept.

James pulled at his father’s curls again, this time harder so that Will’s head was further down and he could reach up and get another handful of black hair.

“Now why didn’t I think of that,” Tessa said, still petting at her son. “James, I might have to steal your idea. It seems to keep him in line doesn’t it.” And it had. The whole time James was having his fun gripping and pulling, Will had sat still, smiling down through his winces.

The carriage lurched to a halt, James fists losing from Will’s hair and a cry tearing from his throat. It appeared he had not liked the sudden stop anymore that Tessa did, though, like his father, he was quite inclined to share his opinion on the subject.

“Hey now,” Will said pulling him up to hold him close and rock him. It was such a funny sight, Tessa thought. Will had only grown broader since they had married, his arms now larger and more muscular than ever, and James looked so tiny in them. Though there was something else, less funny about it. The muscular arms around their son spoke a silent vow to keep him safe, to guard him against anything that might try to hurt him, and to comfort him should he need it.

The door to the carriage opened and a Silentbrother stood, hood drawn back. Welcome to the City of Bones, Herondale family. He held a stiff arm out towards the entrance.

Tessa held her breath. Will handed James over to her, carefully so that his head did not bob, and then exited the carriage. When he was down he helped her out, more help than was required by propriety, but Will had been nervous about her after the birth anyway, as it had not been an easy one, and she held their child in her arms.

The Brother led them into the Silent City and through the stone halls. Tessa was used to them by now though, and they no longer made her feel nervous or frightened. They shouldn’t have. She had been here enough times, very few times that weren’t in reason with Will and his antics to see his parabatai, and though she never minded seeing him and was glad at any chance, she sometimes wished she did not have to discuss her husband’s broken green toe with Brother Enoch, who took it in an uncomfortably serious manner.

I suspect, said Brother Enoch in front of them now, having been the one to lead them in, that you wish for Brother Zachariah to perform the ceremony.

“I will have no one else,” Will sounded absolute.

Brother Enoch did not respond, only continued to lead them down a series of winding hallways to a far door in one corridor.

Sister Magdalen and Brother Zachariah await you, was all he said.

Tessa and Will stopped outside the door. Will did not look at her, only straight ahead at the stone door. Tessa could see the excitement—it was the same look on his face every time he got to see Jem—but she could also see the worry in his posture and his blue eyes and she wondered if perhaps he had the same fears she did.

Holding James tighter to her bosom, she walked forward to the door. Will, seeming to come out of his daze, opened the door for her and allowed her to enter before doing the same and then closing it behind him.

The room was dimly lit by witchlight, as everything in the Silent City was, giving it an eerie glow and a cast shadows in every corner. In the middle of the room was a stone table, where she assumed she was to set her son. It looked very hard and unwelcoming to a newborn.

“Brother Zachariah,” said Will, even though he detested calling Jem that, there was an Iron Sister in the room and he did not want to get him in any trouble. “Sister Magdalen. We are here for the protection ritual for our son.”

“We are aware what you are here for, William and Theresa Herondale,” Sister Magdalen said. There was nothing harsh in her tone, neither was there anything welcoming, as was the case with the Brothers and Sisters of the Nephilim. It made Tessa see just how set apart Jem really was from them all. “Place the child on the stone slab and we shall begin.”

Jem had stood in the background, though when Tessa walked forward with the child he did the same, stopping at the table and pulling his hood back to expose his young face and closed eyes. The marks of the Brotherhood stood out stark on his cheekbones.

Tessa wrapped her sons blanket around him tighter as she went to place him on the table, though Will held up a hand to halt her and took his jacket off to place it on the table in a bundle so that it made a cradle of sort.

Smiling at the gesture, she pulled her son from her chest and laid him down on his father’s jacket. Jem stayed on one side of the table while Sister Magdalen moved to the other.

Then Jem spoke for the first time since they had entered the room.

And what is his name, he asked.

Tessa went still and looked to Will.

It was a moment before he spoke.

“His name is James,” he said. “James Herondale.”

The room seemed to go quieter than it already was. Even the howling dead seemed to still.

Little James cooed, breaking the void, and outstretched his tiny arms upward towards Jem, something his did often to Will and Tessa, but hardly to anyone else.

Jem stood stonily above him, his closed eyes staring down at James unseeingly. Though Tessa did not doubt that he saw. He saw more than anyone else, she believed. He had always seen her, he had seen Will, and the Brotherhood could not change that.

Then he turned, slowly, away from the table. Tessa was about to go forward but then he took his scarred hands and covered his equally scarred face, his shoulders turning in, and though he made no sound, Tessa knew he was weeping.

James continued to coo and make soft noises in the background.

This is my interpretation of the picture by Cassandra Jean. I’m not stealing her art, just using it as inspiration and I thought I’d post it with the story. We all know who drew it anyway. All characters are Cassandra Clare. Hope you guys liked it :)

art source: Cassandra Jean


Edit: I’m trying to get my followers up, so if you follow me, I’ll write a scene for you of your choice. I mean obviously there’s a limit on how much I can write, but for the first followers, let’s say 20 (if I ever get that many). Just write in the comments on here what you want me to write. Anything after 20 I’ll sift through and see if I love them.