burst banks

Party burst into a bank to stop some robbers. It’s the (alignment questioning) Paladin’s turn to attack the group, and she does with a mace. After a short debate on how exactly to strike…

Paladin: I rolled a 21 to attack.

DM: Yeah, you definitely hit him in the flace-

Paladin: Flace.

Party: Flace? 


Paladin *laughing*: I DO 4 DAMAGE TO HIS FLACE.

First Meeting prompts

1) “Everyone – hands in the air!” The bank robber burst into the building, only to discover that a hold-up was already happening.

2) “What happened last night? Where am I?” Why are you, gorgeous but utterly unfamiliar, bringing me breakfast in bed?
“You don’t remember?”
“That’s not reassuring me.”

3) “Hi. Officer Black.” They held up a fake ID badge. “I’m looking into the disappearances that have been happening in this area recently. May I ask you a few questions?”
The actual investigator stared at them.

4) “Oh my god – it’s you. You’re the one I’ve been hearing!”
“What?” Completely bewildered.

5) Coincidentally, we have the same surname and accidentally both booked the same honeymoon suite. I’m not willing to lose the best room in the hotel or admit that I booked a honeymoon suite single precisely because it was the best room. Look at that Jacuzzi! All of the other rooms are taken anyway. Turns out, you’re travelling alone too. Everyone now thinks we’re newly beds and, frankly, I’m not giving the gift basket back so I guess we’re married for a week.

6) “You have a kitten in your bag.”
The NO PETS ON THE BEACH sign loomed behind them.
“Say that a bit louder, will you?”
“Your cat likes the beach?”
“She gets separation anxiety.”
It was hopeless, it was love. Black hair and blue eyes and peeking out entirely too pleased with itself among a towel.
“Either sit down or stop staring, you’re going to blow our cover.”

7) “You know the library is closed, right?” the stranger broke the silence.
They looked the stranger; dressed in pyjamas and clutching a kitkat from the vending machine. They raised their brows. The stranger didn’t even blush at the sheer hypocrisy of the comment.

8) “You’re in my spot.” They had been coming to the roof every evening for three years, and nobody else had ever been there and – oh god, the stranger was crying.

9) “I’m your soulmate, from the future.”

“Then future me as horrible taste, keep walking.”
“…wow. Future you was right, you really did used to be a prick.”

10) When you save somebody’s life, it always seems that a fragment of their future belongs to you. They wouldn’t have had it if it wasn’t for the few heartbeats of your acquaintance. You disagree with this notion quite violently.

Wild Thoughts

I think I’m in love with Rihanna. Seriously. She and her outfits in the Wild Thoughts video are the inspiration for this story. Well, her and Beyonce from the On The Run fake trailer. Hope you enjoy :)

The air is sticky this time of night in Havana, but no one seems to care. The bar is packed, the patio even denser with bodies. The music is loud, the drinks are cold, and the air smells of the finest cigars. The band is soaked in their own sweat but they’re having too good a time to stop now. The trumpet players dance along with the percussion beat, clapping their hands in enthusiasm before returning the brass to their lips. Bodies sway to and fro as their hands and fingers reach toward the ceiling. Men slink their arms around the waists of their women, pulling them deeper into their body as they wiggle and writhe to the beat. 

Rick downs his brown liquid in one gulp, before sliding the short glass away from him, prompting the young bartender to hit him with another. He sits alone at the bar, Daryl leaving him hours ago with his favorite girl, Marcela. They weren’t supposed to be in Cuba this long, just a few days, but the food and drinks and women always prove to be too much for the duo. A few days turns into a few weeks, into a few months. Daryl lays his head with Marcela, while Rick lays with anyone that’ll take him. His flings will last a few weeks, a month or two maybe, but they always fall in love and he always takes the cue. It’s time to go once their eyes start sparkling for Rick Grimes.

He slides his crystal blues across the dance floor, looking for her. Three nights he’s watched her and her dark haired, fair skinned friend dance until they can’t stand. They accept drinks from most of the men in the bar, they laugh loudly, they even partake in the cigars. Two carefree, beautiful girls. Just how Rick likes them. He’s only managed to catch the green-eyed girls name, Maggie. But every time someone calls for the dark skinned, toned bodied friend, something manages to drown out her name. Rick reaches for his fresh glass of scotch and takes a sip, leaning against the bar with his elbow. A flash of peach catches his eye and he flicks his orbs toward the bright intrusion.

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She had always assumed that there was a finite amount of hate the human heart could hold before bursting, that its banks would eventually overflow and be destroyed by the sheer volume of it. She was delighted, in this moment, to discover that her heart was capable of such expansion to encompass all the world, and hate everything in it.
—  Me, narrating my life like I’m a Victorian heroine 
english village gothic

there is a large house where the last few lanes tail away, high up on a hill. when the lightning flashes, you see faces at the window, but nobody has lived there since queen victoria was on the throne.

blood spills from teacups across well-kept lawns; there are shadows drinking from a dried-up fountain in the summer sun, and the cucumber sandwiches are moulding already

you find a child’s bike in the road, pink streamers on the handlebars and wheels still spinning. you do not find a child. nobody wants to talk about it

the church has relics, and a crypt, and when the river bursts its banks you dream of the dead drowning once more. the vicar tells you that he hears howling at night, but there are no wolves left in england

the brownies and girl guides are far too pale this summer. they have strange markings on their necks, and they keep missing church parade, but their knitting is exemplary still

the romans and celts and saxons and vikings and normans march for miles in the second between midnight and the next morning; they leave no footprints but you hear their boots on the grass

the girls’ toilets in the primary school are haunted. things whisper and hiss in the pipes and you see the name of the history teacher, along with his birth and death dates, on the war memorial on the village green. he talks about the trenches as if he were there

everyone knows everyone, even the dead. especially the dead.

alright i’m sure this has already been discussed but how much disruption do you think pokemon go causes the fake ah crew + los santos?

the lads come bursting into a quiet bank and startle the hell out of the tellers only for michael to be like, “where the fuck is that zapdos– why are you guys screaming, we’re not here for you, we don’t even have guns, relax”

ray has a conflict of interest re: pokemon and laziness and spends many hours trying to convince people to carry him piggyback around the block

just before a heist everybody sees ryan pacing with his head down and at first they think he’s anxious or annoyed; jeremy cautiously goes, “uh, you okay?” and ryan looks up and they see his phone and he’s just like “don’t distract me i am trying to hatch an egg!!!

Can I Say Something Crazy? (Barry Allen/The Flash Imagine)

Request: Hi!! Can you do a BarryxReader oneshot where The Flash saved you and he kissed you (you don’t know he is Barry) and you tell Barry about it??

I had way to much fun writing this one omg…


I hope you enjoy!

Originally posted by barryirisallens

For months, you’ve been obsessed with the Flash. You made up conspiracy theories about where he came from and who he really is. You shared these hypothesizes with your best friend, Barry Allen, who really didn’t believe any of your nonsense. 

“He could literally be anyone.” You ranted through the phone. 

He laughed and rolled his eyes, although you couldn’t see him. “Really? I thought he was Santa Claus, (Y/N).” 

“Don’t make fun. For years you’ve been telling me about the lightning from that night and all about those crazy cases you’ve investigated. And now that I finally believe you, you’re making fun of me.” You pouted. “You’re a real good bestie, Allen.” 

Barry sighed through the phone. He always had this crush on you. It was somewhat foolish of him to think that you didn’t feel the same. You did reciprocate those feelings, but you felt as if he had always loved Iris so you never acted on them. But no matter, that didn’t stop both your feelings from growing.

“Why are you so obsessed with him? Is it ‘cause he’s hot?” Barry asked as you opened the door to the bank.

“Can’t tell. But the whole hero thing is such a turn on. I’m at the bank. I’ll see you for lunch, yeah?” You whispered after getting a dirty look from a little old lady.

“Of course.” 

While you were waiting in line, you felt something wrong. It didn’t feel right and the unpleasant feeling left a sour taste in your mouth. Something wrong was about to happen, you could just feel it. 

And your assumption was right. After minutes of waiting in line, a gang of masked men came in, waving guns around with empty bags in their hands. You freaked a little before slyly redialing your last call, which just so happened to be Barry.

“Hello?” He answered, but was met with nothing. Just a couple gunshots and some screams. “(Y/N)? What’s going on?” 

“Put the money in the bag!” A muffled voice ordered. “Do it or I’ll shoot this pretty little thing.” He heard you whimper as you were pulled to your feet by the gunman. Barry felt lightning flash in his eyes as he rushed over to you.

He burst through the bank and people immediately let out sighs of relief. “Put her down.” Barry demanded, his vocal cords vibrating so you wouldn’t be able to recognize his voice. 

“With pleasure.” The gunman said as he pushed you aside and fired, but the bullets never reached you. Thankfully, the Flash was there to save the day. He apprehended the non-meta human with ease and had the police there within minutes to arrest him. 

“Are you okay?” The Flash questioned you, as he helped you outside. You looked at him only to have him blur his face. You nodded, still lost for words. He had put his hands on the side of your head and pressed his lips on yours.  Then before you know it, you were kissing the Flash. He pulled away. “I couldn’t help myself.” 

When more policemen came in, so did Barry. “Hey are you okay?” He asked, worry in his tone. 

“Yeah.” You said, still in awe. “Can I Say Something Crazy?” 

Barry furrowed his brows. “Don’t you always?” You hit him lightly on the shoulder. “Okay, okay! Yeah, you may.”

“The Flash kissed me.” You began and then you went into detail about that short lived experience. “It happened so fast but it ended just as quickly.”Barry bit his lip, a habit of his that made your heart flutter. You felt your cheeks heat up as you look away. “Okay, crazy moment over.” 

“Can I say something even crazier?” Barry asked you and you simply nodded. 

“I’m the Flash.” 

“Yeah right, and I’m the girl of your dreams.” You chuckled. 

“You are, though.” He plainly stated and you looked at him in shock. Then everything became a blur as he picked you up and ran to S.T.A.R. Labs. 

The suit sat there on the manikin in display and your jaw hit the floor. “Oh my god. I kissed you.” You blushed. 

“Would you take it back?” Barry asked, feeling his heart race as the question left his lips.You turned to face him and shook your head. “Good.” And once again, you found yourself kissing the Flash, whose alter ego was the man you’ve loved since you were 11.

The Undoing of Sebastian Swan

Thought you guys might want to see a little story seed I’ve been working on. I don’t know if I’ll ever do anything with this but it was fun to write. Hope you enjoy!

The rain fell and the rain fell and it showed no sign of stopping. In the small English village of Spindlewood they were used to the rain, indeed they were suited to it. The pumpkin crop had never looked better but things were starting to get out of hand. It had been more than a week now with no sign of letting up and it seemed it would not be long before the river burst its banks. The elders of the village looked forward to having new tales to tell about the great October floods of 1873.  Such was life in a village where nothing much of intrigue ever seemed to happen.

But the newcomer was not used to rain and the newcomer expected intrigue. Indeed, he was determined to find it. The life of a banker was a comfortable one but it grew boring after a while. Sebastian Swan was looking for a mystery as he sat shivering in one of the dark booths of the only pub in the village. The dry burn of a whiskey ran down his throat. To him, an unfamiliar village on the night of All Hallows Eve spoke of certain adventure. It wasn’t hard to tell that he wasn’t from around here: the material of his coat was soft and warm and the gold of a pocket watch glinted among its folds. The bartender had an eye for such things – how better to know who would be handing over the most shillings before last call?

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Prompt: 4x07. When Beckett comes in as a paramedic, Trapper John recognizes her voice and decides to shoot hostages. He shoots at Castle, only for Beckett to take the bullet for him.  An old one from @castlefanficprompts.

Beckett isn’t exactly the last person he expects to see come through the door, but she isn’t the first, either.  He’d thought she was on the phone, waiting for Trapper John to call, for another chance to get him talking.  But there she is, and he has to find a way to pass her a note, has to let her know about the C4.  Her eyes meet his as he scribbles on the deposit slip.  Message received.  She’ll get her hand near his when she can.

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Double Life.

A/N: hey, my fellow j lovers! sooooo this was pretty interesting to write. I decided to start putting warnings in the beginning of my stories from now on. I don’t want anymore people getting angry at me for not doing it before. anyway, an anon requested this. hope you all enjoy! xx

Warnings: swearing, slight self-harm, a good amount of smut because why not and sweet joker towards the end???



You were the perfect daughter to her. your mother. you got straight a’s in school, had a perfect record, and never did anything bad.
or so she thought. she couldn’t know who your boyfriend was. she wouldn’t understand. she already had enough on her plate with your dad leaving her after having your sisters. she had triplets. she knew you had a boyfriend but what she didn’t know is that he was the king of crime. one of the biggest crime bosses in the city. and you? his queen. helping him with his heists, meetings, and needs. you enjoyed every one of those things. she always wanted to meet him but she’d know who he was if she took one glance at him. he was all over the news after all. when you were with him, you were a different person, compared to what your mom saw you as. he was your everything and you were his, although he didn’t like to admit. you lived with your mom and sisters until you were 20. you had already met Mistah J by that time and you were already involved in his business. you never got caught though. you met him when you were 16 and he’s been fascinated by you ever since. you guys started messing around, causing you to fall in love with him. he was your first everything so how could you not? you guys talked about you moving in with him in his penthouse once you were 18. that was until your mother got sick. she had postpartum depression. after your father left, she had a hard time doing anything that involved the babies. you had to stay with them an extra two years. once she got better, she decided to move out of the city, leaving you here alone with Mistah J. that’s what you wanted though so you weren’t mad.

one afternoon, you and J were enjoying each other since he’s been working and hasn’t had the time for you. in the midst of him fucking your brains out, the phone rings. your moaning intensifies as you try to be louder than the phone, so it doesn’t annoy J. it doesn’t work. he stops, still inside of you. he grabs the phone and hands it to you.

“answer it, doll-face.” he says with a smirk. you know where he was going with this.

you smile as you answer it and J keeps going. you try your hardest not to moan.

“h-hello?” you say, trying to hold back.

“u-uh, y/n? are you okay?” the person on the other line says, concerned.

“mom?” you say, pushing J off, causing him to stop all together. he rolls his eyes as he throws himself on the bed, landing on his back. you sit up, leaning against the bed frame.

“I-I’m fine, um why are you calling me on the house phone?” you say, mouthing ‘sorry’ to J. he blows you off, and looks away. he’s pissed. you roll your eyes.

“well, honey, I tried your cell phone but you weren’t answering. I just assumed it was on silent or dead and I wanted to reach you as soon as possible.” she says, excitedly.

“why? did something happen? are you okay?” you reply, concerned.

she laughs.

“no, nothing like that darling. just some good news. we’ve decided to come visit you.”

you were frozen.


“w-what? w-when?” you stutter.

“this weekend. we’re staying at your aunt’s house so it’s gonna be pretty crowded with your little sisters. we were hoping that when we would get there, we can come to you? to see you?”

“um, why can’t I just visit you guys? it’s not like I’m gonna be staying there.” you nervously chuckle. “besides, where I live is waaay far out north. that’d be too long of a drive for you guys that I can’t ask you to make. especially with the triplets. they’re babies, they’re gonna be frustrated from staying in a car for 5 hours.”

“oh, sweetie, they’re not babies, they’re toddlers, but alright then. I’ll see you then.”

you sigh in relief.

“okay, mom, um, bye.”

“love you!” she says kissing the phone.

before you can say it back, she hangs up.

you sigh as you lie on your back.

“I believe we have some unfinished business.” J says with a growl.

“I’m sorry..” you say, looking up to the ceiling, with a nervous look on your face.

“everything all right?” J asks bored.

“yeah, it’s just my family is coming to visit.”


“they wanted to but I used any excuse I could for them not to come here.” you say, lost in your train of thought, thinking about how you were going to pull this off. he knew and understood why you didn’t want your mom knowing about him and your lifestyle. he was still pissed by the fact that you thought you can just push him off of you at any time.

“ah, yes, and by excuses, you mean lies. we live nowhere near the north side.” he says, teasing.

“shush, you act like you never lie.” you lean in for a kiss, which makes J pull away.

“aww, daddy, don’t be mad..” you say with a pout. you get on top of him and you start kissing his neck.

“I’ll make it up to you..” you whisper, nibbling his ear.

you continue to kiss his neck and make your way down to his stomach, leaving a trail of love bites.

“would daddy like a blow job?” you say with puppy eyes, while stroking his member.

he grunts. he was so stubborn.

you smirk.

you start to lick the tip, making your way down his shaft with your lips. you took as much as you could in your mouth and pumped the remaining of his member. he starts purring and grunting. you start to bob your head up and down, while you moan. you enjoyed tasting him.
he proceeds to grab a handful of your hair to push your head down, causing you to gag as you deep throated. he was getting off on you gagging. after a few minutes of you deep throating his dick, he finally finished inside of your mouth. he gets up to a sitting position to cup you face into his hand. you open your mouth to show him his cum. you swallow. he grins and smashed his lips against yours. he brushed his member slightly against your stomach. he was still hard.

“let’s keep this party going.” he says with the same grin, flipping you over to your back, going into your tight, inner walls again.


A few days later, your mom arrives to the city. you were nervous. you couldn’t imagine what she’d do if she found out about Mistah J. You start to get ready so you can leave. you shower, slip into casual clothes, dry and style your hair, wear light makeup, and by 2 pm, you were done. J notices how normal you looked.

“well, well, well..” he says, spinning you under his arm. “you clean up nice..” he smirks.

you smile at him.

“too bad, we have a mission to complete today..”

your smile disappears.

“J, you know I have to go visit my mom today.” you say with a stern voice. “or did you forget?”

“change the tone, or you won’t be going anywhere.” he says, smacking your ass. you look away, upset. “I didn’t forget, baby, but it’s not gonna take long, we just have to rob a bank. it’ll take less than 5 hours and according to how far you live from them, that’s more than enough time.”

you roll your eyes. you were convinced.

“fine, but it’ll have to be quick because if something goes wrong, it’ll take more than 5 hours.” you say, still looking away.

“it’s all planned out, doll..” he whispers, turning your face so you look at him. he kisses you softly.

“it better be.” you smirk.

J goes over the plans with you. your brain picked things up pretty quick so he had no problem with you. his problem were his idiot henchmen.


you arrive to the bank. you were pretty excited considering you use to keep your money in this bank, so did your parents. they all get into places. his henchmen were wearing animal masks. you weren’t. you liked the idea of a poor civilian remembering how you look and being terrified. you all burst into the bank with guns. no alarms going off because they turned them off beforehand to buy them some time. J’s henchmen shot the two guards that were there. they were the first to walk in. you walk in after them, with a gun in your hand.

“everybody down!” you shout, shooting the ground.

the people in the bank scream, and cry and get down on the ground.

Mistah J smiles.

His henchmen shoot the people behind the counter and go into the vault, where they had all the money.

one of the bankers take a risk and tries to call 911. you shoot him before he can dial a number. you chuckle. Mistah J notices.

“you’re enjoying this, aren’t ya, doll-face?” he says, pulling you closer to him by your waist.

“of course, daddy.” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, smashing his lips with yours.

“y/n?…” a familiar voice says.

you freeze. you feel your heart sunk into your stomach. you turn your head and it’s your mom with your little sisters.

you pull away from J. he snarls.

“m-mom? w-what are you doing here?” you say approaching her.

“no-, NO! don’t come any closer..” you mom says, sobbing. she was hugging your little sisters, trying to protect them.

your eyes fill up with tears as you glance at your sisters, who look terrified by you.

“I-I can explain.” you say, as you shed a tear.

“what?” your mother says getting up, putting the girls behind her. “that’s you’ve been hanging or should I say dating a psychopath?”

J growls the moment she says psychopath.

Joker takes this as an opportunity to introduce himself. great.

“I don’t think we’ve met..” he says, approaching her with a grin.

“J, don’t-”


he reaches his hand out to shake hers, which he never does. “I’m the Joker, Mistah J to you.” she leaves him hanging.

“mom, please shake his hand-” you say, warning her.

“I said hush, y/n..”

“i will do no such thing.” she says terrified.

J’s grins disappears.

“you should’ve listened to your daughter..” he growls, taking his gun out and pointing it at her.

the girls cry. they’re too young to know what a gun is but they sure do know what it does by the looks of what their sister did with it.

you stand in front of her.

“J, don’t do this.” you say, with tears streaming down your face.

he growls and rushes his henchmen.

your mom looks at you with disappointment.

you try to go near her to talk to her but every time you tried, she’d just back away.

when J and his henchmen are done taking what they need, J shoots the remaining people in the bank but your mom and little sisters.

“you got 5 mins to talk to her before the cops come.” he growls, walking out.

they leave, and it’s just you guys. they’re crying, and so are you.

you try to go near her again.

“stay right there..” your mother sobbingly says.

“mom, I just want to talk.” you say with your voice breaking.

“I thought you were different. what the hell are you doing hanging with a criminal? you were so perfect. where did I go wrong?!” she sobs harder and harder. so do you.

“I’m-I’m sorry, mom, you don’t understand-”

“no, I understand perfectly!” she shouts, approaching you to strike you in the face. you gasp as she does.

“don’t try to contact me or your aunt. ever. you are no longer my daughter, and stay the hell away from the triplets. I don’t want you anywhere near them. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” she says, raising her hand again, causing you to flinch. you nod.

“I’ll see to it that the cops catch you and that criminal. what your are doing is a bad, BAD thing.” she says, taking a look at you one more time.

she runs out of the bank, to her car with the girls.

at that moment, you wanted to fall into the floor and cry your eyes out. but you couldn’t. you hear sirens outside, causing you to rush outside to Mistah J’s car. he still looked pissed.

“took you long enough.” he snarled and speeded through the road.

surprisingly, batsy didn’t come out to chase you guys.

you arrive home. you were still sad. you get out of the car and go into the penthouse. you walk into the bathroom and you lock it behind you. as soon as you do, you collapse and you cry. you cry so hard that your head began to hurt. you were sobbing, digging your nails into your skin, leaving small cuts. you wanted to hurt yourself more. you’ve had a history with self harm. ever since your father left, you always felt like you weren’t good enough for anything. you had all the pressure to be perfect because of him and then he just decides to leave you and your mother. Mistah J knew this. you screamed which echoed throughout the house, scaring the housekeepers, cooks, and henchmen.

Mistah J was highly upset with you for embarrassing him. he thought he looked like an idiot for letting his mom and your little sisters live. he was still concerned about you though.

“Frost!” he shouted.

Frost rushes over to the room he’s in.

“y-yes, sir?” he asks politely.

“go make sure y/n is okay. I don’t want her hurting herself.” he growled.

“sure, boss.”

Frost goes over to the bathroom you were in. he knocks.

“y/n? are you all right?” he asked hesitantly.

you get up, shaking with rage because Mistah J didn’t have the balls to walk over here and ask himself.

“tell Mistah J if he wants to know how I am, TO ASK ME HIMSELF.” you shout, punching the door.

before you knew it, you were looking for something to hurt yourself with. scissors, blades, anything.

Frost walks over to where Mistah J was to tell him what you said.

“B-boss, she said you should go see how she is.. instead of me asking her.. if you really want to know..” he rambled, making no sense. he didn’t want to piss Mistah J off more than he already was

J glared at him. he sighs and walks over to the bathroom. he hears you scurrying, going through drawers looking for something and he knew exactly what it was. he knock.

“y/n, darling? you better not be looking for what I think you’re looking for.” he says.

you ignore him. you go through the a couple more drawers. you don’t find anything. Joker hears you and his knocking intensifies.

“y/n? y/n! open this door, right now.” he commands. he starts pounding.

you unlock the door. you sit back on the floor.

he looks at you surprised. he expected you to be bleeding.

he growls.

“what were you doing, looking through the drawers?” he looks down at you.

“I was looking for something..” you say looking away.

“and what could that be?” he says, crouching to your level, turning your head so you face him.

“you already know! why are you asking?” you say, pulling away from him.

“don’t talk to me like that, y/n.” he says, grabbing your face again.

he notices the small cuts on your shoulders and back.

he sighs.

he gets up to go look for some bandages and alcohol to treat your wounds. he gets back. he pours the alcohol onto a towel and presses it against your skin. you wince as it begins to sting. when he’s done, he puts bandages over them.

“all better..” he purred, kissing you softly.

“don’t you know how much you mean to daddy?” he says, in an innocent voice. “daddy never wants to lose his baby girl, do you understand?” he says, kissing the bandages where your cuts were at. you start sobbing again. he holds you. you bury your face into his chest and continue sobbing.

“my mother disowned me.. she-she hit me, she’s never hit in the face before! or anywhere for that matter! she didn’t even let me explain! she doesn’t want me to contact her o-or my sisters ever again..” you say between sobs.

he held you tighter, shushing you.

“sh, sh, doll.” he whispers. “I know it hurts, baby, but she was gonna find out some how. she was your mother, what did you expect?” he continues, as he strokes your hair. “the good news is that you’re all mine now.” he purred.

he was right. it couldn’t have happened any other way. you calmed down. you were so tired from all the crying that you fall asleep on the bathroom floor in his arms. once he notices, he carries you to the bed, bridal style. he covers you with a blanket and gets himself undressed. he undressed you as well. you were so tired that you didn’t even feel it. he lays beside you, putting his arm around you. he kisses your head.

“don’t worry, doll, I’ll take good care of you.”


Reflection Upriver

Wouldn’t say I dislike change.
That’s one river I wouldn’t swim against,
unlike salmon without the nuisance of self-doubt.
Through a constant medium comes
banks burst in tests of character,
and languid seasons when the sun’s milky
heat thins that flow to simple streams
whose fords form false promise—but I rant;
water is life.

No, what I like most is
    pillars still standing in place in face of wind that bites, decay;
    walls that, like books, tell stories it must, and (especially) those it doesn’t have to;
    beaten old doors, paint flaked, that still remember where they lead to, patient.
If you’ll let me define beauty: resilience.

Let’s talk about this: The Fake AH Crew is all about presentation. They’ll do the craziest shit just for the hell of it. When they actually do a heist it almost always fails, but as long as something or someone gets blown up they’ll be happy. They’ve killed enough people and made just enough money to rise through the ranks and become a ‘respected’ but feared gang. But thats not why they’re here, they’re all about the thrill, the fireworks, the rush of adrenaline that comes with shooting a gun or driving a car too fast down the highway, with the roar or sirens chasing after you. They’ll burst into a bank only to realize that none of them have real weapons, just flare guns. They’ll laugh and take it in stride. Nothing can speed up a bank’s proficiency like lighting one of the tellers on fire. To them money’s just another plus, something that gives them a valid reason to do the things they do.

But fakehaus on the other hand, they’re the real deal. Get in, get out, quickly and quietly. Every heist is well thought of and every security camera and every plan b is memorized. They go over the plan again and again making sure everyone has a job and that they each preform to the best of their ability. Coms are checked regularly before a heist, clips are checked again and again and again. They move up the ranks slowly, they have no need or want to overthrow fake ah. They are clean and precise, no unnecessary killing. Get the money and leave. But that doesn’t mean they don’t make each heist a bit of a show. Sleek bikes and cars, mirrored bike helmets, sturdy combat boots and shiny brass knuckles. Dressed in all black, guns firing precise, clean shots. They look like a rouge Special Ops group.

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Fic: Forget-me-not

2.7k words, G rated

There’s a type of Forget-me-not known as Scorpion Grass, and it grows on the banks of the river that runs round the edge of the Malfoy Manor grounds. Forget-me-nots are supposed to help you remember people after they’re gone, and sometimes Scorpius needs help remembering. 

This is based on @platinasi‘s beautiful art of Scorpius with forget-me-nots in his hair, and @ohscorbus‘s tag ramble about forget-me-nots and Scorpion Grass. The pair of them are entirely to blame for this fic. 

Thanks to @abradystrix for looking this one over. 

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The Scamanders Ch. 2

Originally posted by hardyness

Reader is Newt Scamander’s teenage daughter who recently graduated from Hogwarts. As a graduation present, her father has rewarded her with a trip around the world with him and his creatures.

(Y/N) Scamander eagerly followed her father off of the boat, tightening her house scarf around herself. (Y/N) briefly wondered what a muggle would think about the house emblem sewn on it, but she dismissed the thought. Her father was looking around in slight awe as he took in the change of scenery and she found herself doing the same until she accidently bumped into her father’s back when he stopped in front of the security guard.
“First time in New York?” The man asked, (Y/N) eagerly listened to the heavy American accent. “Yes.” Newt said politely. Instead of offering advice or help like (Y/N) expected him to, he just eyed her father’s case skeptically. (Y/N) tightened her hold on her purse, beginning to worry about the muggle’s suspicion.

“Anything edible in there?” The guard asked. “Uh, no.” Newt said, adjusting his grip. “Any livestock?” He asked. Suddenly one of the locks popped open and (Y/N) quickly surged forward and locked it back. Newt and the guard both looked at her and she smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, habit.” (Y/N) mumbled. “No.” Newt finally answered the man.

“Let me take a look.” The man ordered, putting his note pad down on the conveyor belt next to him. Newt switched the case to Muggle Worthy as subtly as possible and put the case onto the inspection table. (Y/N) trusted her father’s magic, but was still worried about the occasional mishap.

The guard opened the case, looked at them, looked back at the case, then closed it. “Welcome to New York.” He said handing the case back over to Newt and standing aside. “Next.” He called out to the people behind them. (Y/N) smiled brightly at the man and took her place next to her dad. He wrapped his free arm around her shoulder as they entered the large city together.

With only a few hours until their train arrived, the Scamanders set out to find a clothing store of some kind. Newt was a bit ashamed that his daughter had to, quite literally, sell the clothes off of her back to get something she wanted, but (Y/N) didn’t mind. The Hogwarts uniform was surprisingly comfortable and warm. And (Y/N) liked pretending she didn’t notice the way the boys at Hogwarts would eye her garter belt when her skirt rode up a little, but she’d keep that to herself. For now, she was okay with what she was wearing and wanted to do a little sightseeing.

(Y/N) was leading her father around the crowded streets as if she had done it a hundred times before. She didn’t have a destination in mind and decided to check out what appeared to be a rally or protest of some sort. Newt followed closely behind his daughter, seeing as he had read an article just a few weeks ago about the crime rate in New York. He knew she could defend herself, but he was her father and he would never stop worrying about his (not-so) little girl.

(Y/N) pushed her way through the crowd to get a proper view of the speaker and let go of her father’s arm to try and squeeze past a few more people. Newt turned to apologize to a woman after accidently shoving her hotdog into her face with his shoulder. When he turned back, (Y/N) was completely hidden from view. Newt tried to ignore the sliver of panic that snuck down his spine as he looked for the girl. Relax, Newt told himself, She is a smart girl and an extremely clever witch. She can take care of herself. Newt’s focus shifted when the speaker of the protest singled him out against the crowd. He stuttered through his response, definitely not used to being the center of attention. Especially not at a rally against witchcraft.

(Y/N) had effectively made her way towards the front but right before she could get out of the crowd she slipped on the wet stone and tumbled out past the outer rim of people and towards the young man handing out flyers.

The young man caught her by her arms before she could hit the ground, dropping his papers onto the wet ground in the process. He avoided eye contact with the girl as he bent down to collect his papers. His adoptive mother had paused her speech and he could easily imagine her seething at the image of her flyers scattered around on the dirty ground. Credence tried not to think about it as he began salvaging what little he could. He almost didn’t notice that the girl had begun to help him with his papers.

Credence wanted to ignore (Y/N) when she apologized profusely for her clumsiness, but his mother had taught him that was impolite. He did, however, try to ignore the feeling of her soft hands brushing against his as he gingerly took the papers from her. “Thank you.” He said, so quietly he doubted she even heard him. Credence risked a glance up at her face and immediately found himself extremely uncomfortable.

The girl had a breathtaking, imperfect beauty to her. Credence believed he had never seen someone as naturally attractive as her. She had a soft smile on her face and Credence took note of the barely noticeable dusting of freckles around her lips and cheekbones. Her face and neck were a bit red from her recent tumble and she blinked up at Credence from underneath her long eyelashes. Cedence almost lost his balance when she stepped closer to him, practically chest to chest with him. His eyes glanced down her frame and carefully watched the way her dainty hands rubbed against her sides.

Credence had never been attracted to girls, or anyone for that matter. His mother thought it was disgusting when teenagers threw around words like “love” or “soulmate” and she had taught him that most teen girls were nothing but trouble. Credence couldn’t see how this young woman could do any harm. She seemed innocent enough to him and she obviously had something that separated her from the rest, considering this was the first time Credence ever really took notice of the curve of a girl’s figure or the shape of her lips.

The girl opened her mouth to say something when suddenly a tall man in a bright blue coat tore his way through the crowd and into the bank. The girl winked at Credence before following after the man. As she ran up the stairs past Ms. Barebone, Credence couldn’t help but watch as her skirt bounced and swung as the girl ran up the stairs. As he began to turn back towards the crowd, he locked eyes with his mother and he knew he had been caught. He dropped his gaze to the ground and felt his face burn in shame. Credence would most definitely be punished later.

Credence noticed that lying on the ground next to his feet, was a slightly tattered (h/c) scarf. He bent down and brushed his fingers over the small badge that was sewn in. He didn’t understand the word underneath the animal, but he did remember the girl had been wearing it when she first made her way through the crowd. He quickly shoved the scarf into his jacket’s inner pocket for safe keeping. Who was this girl and why did she effect him so severely?

While Credence hung his head in shame with his mind reeling, another man sat on a bench in the bank shaking with anxiousness. The second man, Jacob Kowalski, watched as a tall odd ball and a young girl burst through the bank doors. They were obviously looking for something, scanning the floor and entrances for something. Apparently they were unable to find it, as they both took a seat next to him. The young girl sat in between him and the man, and she offered Jacob a kind smile. He returned it and ran his hand through his slick hair.

“What brings you two to the bank?” He asked, assuming they were waiting for a scheduled meeting. “Same thing as you.” The man answered, still looking around for something. The girl eyed his briefcase and noted how similar it looked to her father’s. “What’s in there, Sir?” (Y/N) asked, breathing in the sugary aroma that surrounded the man. Jacob smiled but before he could explain his business at the bank, the man stood up and dragged the girl towards the back of the bank. Mr Kowalski watched the strange pair with wide eyes, before he noticed an egg on the bench next to him. He snagged it quickly and stood up to find the owners.

I know the point of view jumps around a little but I hope it’s still understandable? I hope you like this! Please tell me if you liked it or if I made any mistakes! I know this is kinda short but I’m trying to get through finals week and it is hell! (I will try to make a longer one next time, sorry y'all)

Let there be represented the summit of a rugged mountain with valleys surrounding its base, and on its sides let the surface of the soil be seen to slide, together with the small roots of the bushes, denuding great portions of the surrounding rocks … and let the mountains as they are laid bare reveal the deep fissures made in them by ancient earthquakes … And into the depth of some valley may have fallen the fragments of a mountain, forming a shore to the swollen waters of its river, which, having already burst its banks, will rush on in monstrous waves; and the greatest will strike upon and destroy the walls of the cities and farmhouses in the valley.

Some of Leonardo da Vinci’s representations of catastrophic deluges.