yay i’m finally glad to be able to share a summary of my work for a redesign of beauty & the beast this term from color & story! this project would have never come to its completion without the help and wealth of wisdoms from celine and grace as well!! the project is not perfect, but i had a lot of fun getting to reimagine my story. for the style and setting, i looked to inspiration from the kazakh peoples of mongolia and ancient chinese dynasties for patterning and architecture! i poured a lot of love into designing my characters for this project so i hope you can enjoy looking through it as much as i enjoyed working on it!
So I was sharing some Malec headcanons with @f-f-f-fight and I mentioned an idea I had with regards Magnus’ magic. He loved it. I wrote it. And he did these beautiful art for it. They’re stunning aren’t they? Thank you Seph!!!! I still have every intention of framing them. Just so you know ;).
He heard the shout and dropped low, body acting without conscious thought, his mind narrowed on the urgent call in Jace’s voice. The air above his head sang with the glide of the Seraph blade flying through the air and then he heard a thud.
The circle member’s body had barely dropped before Alec was yanking out the blade from the gaping hole the blade had made in the middle of the man’s forehead.
He nodded at Jace who nodded back at him and went back to hacking away at circle members and demons alike, his blonde hair glinting in the moonlight in a way that made Alec spin on his feet, heart suddenly beating hard, eyes searching for the glint of silver necklaces which he hadn’t seen since… The breath whooshed out of him and he sighed in relief.
He’s okay. He’s fine.
Magnus’ fingers shot out in a graceful arc and with a blast of his power he decapitated the demon he’d been fighting, watching unimpressed as the demon dissolved into ash.
He lifted his head, as if he could sense Alec’s eyes on him, dark strands falling over his eyes, glowing golden with the slits that entranced and drew you in with the force and power they held. His eyes held Alec’s for a brief moment and then he gave Alec a cocky grin and dove back into the fight, mind now focused on the circle member that had tried creeping up on him. A driving punch to the solar plexus, an upwards thrust with the heel of his palm that connected with the man’s nose and a direct punch to the face, and the circle member landed with a thud.
Without breaking a sweat, he glided onto the next circle member just as Alec caught running footsteps and raised his blade at the exact same moment a circle member came swinging at him.
His arms shook with the force of the hit and the circle member grinned.
Alec shot his foot out, slamming hard against the circle member’s kneecap, hearing the satisfying crunch of shattering bone that had the man drop with a pained howl. A quick swipe and he took off the man’s head and using the same momentum cleaved the demon that was coming at him from the side.
And then it was a blur of noise and blood and sweat, losing himself to the battle, catching brief glimpses of his lover, his family, his friends, all focused on their fights.
A circle member clipped him and he turned around, grabbed the man’s face, yanked him close and gutted him.
He caught Magnus’ smile just as he dropped the man’s body and smiled back, shaking his head at the wink Magnus tossed at him.
He was just about to turn around when he caught it, the split second when Magnus was distracted looking at him and a circle member swung at him, the edge of the Seraph blade hitting him from behind.
Words: 4107 One-Shot
Rated: Gen Summary: Over a decade after the team was launched into space, Keith is back on earth struggling with dissociative amnesia. Luckily he’s not fighting it alone, and his husband is there for him. Lots of angst but it’s comforting. Review: This will rip your heart out and then tuck it under a warm blanket. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve reread this. 11/10, will probably read again tonight
Words: 17300 Chapters: 7/7 Rated: Gen Summary: Second part of Don’t Remember to Forget Me but with a lot more days and a lot more characters. Over a decade after the team was launched into space, Keith is back on earth struggling with dissociative amnesia. Luckily he’s not fighting it alone, he’s got his husband, his husband’s family, as well as the rest of his team there to help. Lots more angst. Review:I don’t tend to cry to fics, but I cried to this one. The emotions are so tangible, so real, that you can’t help but feel them as your own. The author did a beautiful job with this. Goals. 12/10, a good, well-needed cry.
Words: 17333 Chapters: 2/2 Rated: Teen Summary: Keith accidentally starts a YouTube channel. Lance, of course, refuses to be left out. It goes about as well as you’d expect. (Ft. copious amounts of wine and a truly shameless number of references to MyDrunkKitchen, DailyGrace, and general pop culture) Review: The amount of fluff and pining in this… It’s too much to handle. I was red as hell, but it’s so cute and so sweet, and they both care about and want to be with each other so much. If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend. 10/10, I rec this to everyone
Words: 12221 One-Shot Rated: Teen Summary: Lance accidentally sends a shirtless gym selfie to Keith, a guy he barely even talks to, saying “bet you wanna lick these nips”. Nothing was supposed to come out of it… until Keith keeps messaging him back. Review: This fic is honestly so cute. It has barista!Lance, dancer!Keith, and the two pining so hard they can’t even see straight ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) But in all seriousness, this is really well written, and I also recommend this fic to just about everyone! 10/10, am currently reading again
Words: 32379 Chapters: 7/? Rated: Teen Summary: Lance Alexander Rafael McClain is born in the middle of a summer storm, thunder cracking and rain slamming onto the roof of an old ramshackle house that had seen more than its fair share of children. The miracle baby, that’s what the family had called Lance. In which family is always complicated, Lance’s life hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows, and he and Keith are really emotionally constipated for each other. Review: It’s okay, I love death and dying. This fic hits and hits hard. It’s got a lot of warnings, so make sure you read the first authors note before actually reading it, but if you do, it’s so worth it. The prose is beautiful, the emotions are so real. I just,,, love crying. 11/10 still haven’t finished, but will today.
A Note From Gerard Way about My Chemical Romance's breakup if you haven't read it yet
A note from Gerard Way about My Chemical Romance’s breakup:
A Vigil, On Birds and Glass.
I woke up this morning still dreaming, or not fully aware of myself just yet. The sun poked through the windows, touching my face, and then a deep sadness overcame me, immediately, bringing me to life and realization- My Chemical Romance had ended.
I walked downstairs to do the only thing I could think of to regain composure-
I made coffee.
As the drip began, in that kind of silence that only happens in the morning, and being the only one awake, I stepped outside my home, leaving the door open behind me. I looked around and began to breathe. Things looked to be about the same- a beautiful day.
As I turned to step back into the house I heard sound from within, a chirp and a rustle. And I noticed a small brown bird had flown into the library. Naturally, I panicked. I knew I had to see the bird to safety and I knew I had to retain the order of things in our home, and he very well couldn’t take up residency with us. I chased him (still assuming he was a he) into my office, where I have these very large windows.
Just then, and luckily, I heard Lindsey’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and naturally being composed as she is, she grabbed a blanket and stepped into the office. He was impossible to catch, and I began to open the windows, via Lindsey’s direction, only to find out they were screened. The bird began to fly into the glass, over and over and in all different directions.
I heard another set of footsteps, Bandit’s, running down the stairs in anticipation of the new day. Her entrance into the situation caused just the right amount of chaos (she was very excited to meet the bird) and we found ourselves chasing the bird into the living room. Knowing that this where it could potentially get sticky, being the high ceilings and the beams to perch on, I opened the front door as Lindsey did her best to encourage our new friend out the door. After some coaxing, flying, chirping, a wrong turn back into the library and a short goodbye to Bandit, he simply hopped out the front door- taking off on the fifth leap.
I was no longer sad.
I didn’t realize it, but I stopped being sad the minute that bird had come into my life, because there was something that needed doing, a small vessel to aid and an order to keep. I closed the door. I decided to write the letter I always knew I would.
It is often my nature to be abstract, hidden in plain sight, or nowhere at all. I have always felt that the art I have made (alone or with friends) contains all of my intent when executed properly, and thus, no explanation required. It is simply not in my nature to excuse, explain, or justify any action I have taken as a result of thinking it through with a clear head, and in my truth.
I had always felt this situation involving the end of this band would be different, in the eventuality it happened. I would be cryptic in its existence, and open upon its death.
The clearest actions come from truth, not obligation. And the truth of the matter is that I love every one of you.
So, if this finds you well, and sheds some light on anything, or my personal account and feelings on the matter, then it is out of this love, mutual and shared, not duty.
This was always my intent.
My Chemical Romance: 2001-2013
We were spectacular.
Every show I knew this, every show I felt it with or without external confirmation.
There were some clunkers, sometimes our secondhand gear broke, sometimes I had no voice- we were still great. It is this belief that made us who we were, but also many other things, all of them vital-
And all of the things that made us great were the very things that were going to end us-
That last one is very important. My Chemical Romance had, built within its core, a fail-safe. A doomsday device, should certain events occur or cease occurring, would detonate. I shared knowledge of this “flaw” within weeks of its inception.
Personally, I embraced it because, again, it made us perfect. A perfect machine, beautiful, yet self aware of it’s system. Under directive to terminate before it becomes compromised. To protect the idea- at all costs. This probably sounds like something ripped from the pages of a four-color comic book, and that’s the point.
No compromise. No surrender. No fucking shit.
To me that’s rock and roll. And I believe in rock and roll.
I wasn’t shy about who I said this to, not the press, or a fan, or a relative. It’s in the lyrics, it’s in the banter. I often watched the journalists snicker at mention of it, assuming I was being sensational or melodramatic (in their defense I was most likely dressed as an apocalyptic marching-band leader with a tear-away hospital gown and a face covered in expressionist paint, so fair enough).
I’m still not sure if the mechanism worked correctly, because it wasn’t a bang but a much slower process. But still the same result, and still for the same reason-
When it’s time, we stop.
It is important to understand that for us, the opinion on whether or not it is in fact time does not transmit from the audience. Again, this is to protect the idea for the benefit of the audience. Many a band have waited for external confirmation that it is time to hang it up, via ticket sales, chart positioning, boos and bottles of urine- input that holds no sway for us, and often too late when it comes anyway.
You should know it in your being, if you listen to the truth inside you. And voice inside became louder than the music.
There are many reasons My Chemical Romance ended. The triggerman is unimportant, as was always the messengers- but the message, again as always, is the important thing. But to reiterate, this is my account, my reasons and my feelings. And I can assure you there was no divorce, argument, failure, accident, villain, or knife in the back that caused this, again this was no one’s fault, and it had been quietly in the works, whether we knew it or not, long before any sensationalism, scandal, or rumor.
There wasn’t even a blaze of glory in a hail of bullets…
I am backstage in Asbury Park, New Jersey. It is Saturday, May 19th, 2012 and I am pacing behind a massive black curtain that leads to the stage. I feel the breeze from the ocean find its way around me and I look down at my arms, which are covered in fresh gauze due to a losing battle with a heat rash, which had been a mysterious problem in recent months. I am normally not nervous before a show but I am certainly filled with angry butterflies most of the time. This is different- a strange anxiety jetting through me that I can only imagine is the sixth sense one feels before their last moments alive. My pupils have zeroed-out and I have ceased blinking. My body temperature is icy.
We get the cue to hit the stage.
The show is… good. Not great, not bad, just good. The first thing I notice take me by surprise is not the enormous amount of people in front of us but off to my left- the shore and the vastness of the ocean. Much more blue than I remembered as a boy. The sky is just as vibrant. I perform, semi-automatically, and something is wrong.
I am acting. I never act on stage, even when it appears that I am, even when I’m hamming it up or delivering a soliloquy. Suddenly, I have become highly self-aware, almost as if waking from a dream. I began to move faster, more frantic, reckless- trying to shake it off- but all it began to create was silence. The amps, the cheers, all began to fade.
All that what left was the voice inside, and I could hear it clearly. It didn’t have to yell- it whispered, and said to me briefly, plainly, and kindly- what it had to say.
What it said is between me and the voice.
I ignored it, and the following months were full of suffering for me- I hollowed out, stopped listening to music, never picked up a pencil, started slipping into old habits. All of the vibrancy I used to see became de-saturated. Lost. I used to see art or magic in everything, especially the mundane- the ability was buried under wreckage.
Slowly, once I had done enough damage to myself, I began to climb out of the hole. Clean. When I made it out, the only thing left inside was the voice, and for the second time in my life, I no longer ignored it- because it was my own.
There are many roles for all of us to play in this ending. We can be well-wishers, ill-wishers, sympathizers, vilifiers, comedians, rain clouds, victims-
That last one, again, is important. I have never thought myself a victim, nor my comrades, nor the fans- especially not the fans. For us to adopt that role right now would legitimize everything the tabloids have tried to name us. More importantly, it completely misses the point of the band. And then what have we learned?
With honor, integrity, closure, and on no one’s terms but our own- the door closes.
And another opens-
This morning I awoke early. I quickly brushed my teeth, threw on some baggy jeans, and hopped in my car. I gently sped down the 405 through the morning fog to a random parking lot in Palo Verde, where I was to meet a nice gentleman named Norm. He was older, and a self-proclaimed “hippie” but he also had the energy of Sixteen year old in a garage-rock band. The purpose of the meeting was the delivery of an amplifier into my possession. I had recently purchased the amp from him and we both agreed that shipping would jostle the tubes- so he was kind enough to meet me in the middle.
A Fender Princeton Amp from 1965, non reverb. A beautiful little device.
He showed me the finer points, the speaker, the non-grounded plug, the original label and the chalk mark of the man or woman who built it-
“This amp talks.” he said.
We got coffee, talked about gold-foil pickups and life. We sat in the car and played each other music we had made. We parted ways, promising to stay in touch, I drove home.
When I wanted to start My Chemical Romance, I began by sitting in my parent’s basement, picking up an instrument I had long abandoned for the brush- a guitar. It was a 90’s Fender Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue, but in my youth I had decided it was too clean and pretty so I beat it up, exposing some of the red paint underneath the blue- the color it was meant to be. Adding a piece of duct tape on the pick guard, it felt acceptable. I plugged this into a baby Crate Amp with built in distortion and began the first chords of Skylines and Turnstiles.
I still have that guitar, and it’s sitting next to The Princeton.
He has a voice, and I would like to hear what it has to say.
In closing, I want to thank every single fan. I have learned from you, maybe more than you think you’ve learned from me. My only regret is that I am awful with names and bad with goodbyes. But I never forget a face, or a feeling- and that is what I have left from all of you.
I feel Love.
I feel love for you, for our crew, our team, and for every single human being I have shared the band and stage with-
Hey guys! So apparently I can’t write drabbles because every time I try, they turn into full blown fics. Here’s another one of those (I promise to write more drabbles so I can post more).
I’m excited to share this one! I hope you guys like it. It’s my first 40s Bucky fic! As always, feedback is welcome! Happy Saturday guys!
Pair: 40′s Bucky Barnes x Reader
When you left your house an hour ago, it was a beautiful day. Sure, there was a little wind, just enough to pull some of your locks out of its clip, but the sky was clear and the sun was bright.
Now, it was starting to rain and you had no umbrella and ten more blocks to go until you would reach your apartment. You walked a little faster down the city sidewalk and you felt your feet starting to slip and slosh in your wet shoes. You winced as you thought of how your sister would react when you returned them to her later that day.
Your hair had started to droop and drip down your neck as you passed another crosswalk. You were seriously debating calling a cab, but with the rain you guessed they would all be full and you didn’t have the money to pay the driver anyway. As a last resort, you pulled your thin jacket off your arms and held it above your head, trying to turn it into an umbrella.
You reached the end of the block and stood on the sidewalk, waiting for the signal to cross the busy street. You felt drops of water seep through your dress and your stockings and you prayed that you wouldn’t wake up with a cold the next day. That was the last thing you needed.
When all your hope started to wash away, you looked up to see navy blue fabric shielding you from the rain. Your eyes ran down its handle and up its owner’s arm until you met the stranger’s grin. Even on this grey day, you were sure his smile could replace the sun.
“Please let me walk you to where you’re going,” he pleaded with a small smirk. “I can’t bear to think of you walking alone in this weather for another minute.”
You opened your mouth to answer but you weren’t entirely sure what to say. You weren’t sure if you should trust a stranger to walk you home, even in the daylight.
But he seemed normal enough.
You noticed the rain drop marks on the shoulders of his shirt and how his top button was undone. But that was the only part of him that seemed out of place.
Your eyes quickly flickered down his large figure. He was nicely dressed, like he was coming from work or church. His suspenders were relaxed against his chest, attached to his ironed, high waist trousers. Despite the rain, his dark hair was perfectly parted and slicked, pushed behind his ears and complimenting his light skin.
You could only imagine what you looked like. You felt your hair falling out of its do, and your mascara was probably running and pooling around your eyes. And your once puffy dress was now soaking wet, clinging to your figure. The thought of how it looked made you extremely self conscious.
You were running your hands down your skirt as he continued to speak. “I don’t mean to be too forward, I just noticed you were walkin’ alone without an umbrella, and not many people are on the streets right now…”
You cleared your throat and watched the cars pass by as you spoke, hoping the distraction would allow you to form a coherent sentence. “Thank you, I would appreciate the company.”
“Alright,” he nodded. “After you,” he said as there was finally a break in the passing cars, allowing you to cross the street. You avoided the puddles as you quietly answered his questions and continued the small talk that came with meeting a handsome stranger.
“So what brought you out into the rain today?” He asked.
“I had to pick up some groceries for my grandmother,” you answered, gesturing to the cloth bag hanging off your arm.
“You couldn’t have waited until the rain stopped?” he chuckled, pulling his free hand out of his pocket and holding it out for the rain to drip on, like he was proving his point.
“Well, it wasn’t raining earlier!” you laughed. “It was gorgeous this morning, didn’t you notice?”
“Nah, I’ve been inside since before dawn. I work mornings at the A&P.”
“Really? Which one?” you asked.
“The one on 12th.”
“That’s where I go! I must have seen you before, then.”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said as you both crossed another street.
“How do you know? Half of Brooklyn goes to that store. It’s easy to forget one face when you see hundreds a day.”
“I wouldn’t forget a face like yours,” he said.
You quickly looked across the street so he wouldn’t see the blush he put on your cheeks. But you knew he noticed when you heard him breathe out a laugh.
After a few silent steps, he cleared his throat and asked, “So, how come your boyfriend let you walk to the store all alone?”
“I don’t mind walking alone,” you answered simply.
You came up to a large puddle on the ground and braced yourself to jump over it. You felt the handsome stranger’s strong arms hold you around your waist as he easily lifted you over the water. Once you landed, you continued. “And I don’t have a boyfriend.”
You didn’t miss the bright smile he tried to hide by licking his lips. You grinned a little, proud of your teasing, but your smile fell when you saw your apartment only a half a block away. Your time with the handsome stranger was ending. You debated lying about where you lived just to spend more time with him, but you knew taking advantage of his kindness wouldn’t do you any good.
You walked up to the dirty red stairs of your apartment and turned to face him, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. “This is my stop,” you said.
“Darn,” he said, not taking his eyes off yours, like he was memorizing the way the light bounced off them just in case he never saw you again. The intense contact made you blush and he chuckled at your reaction.
“Thank you for walking me back.”
“(Y/N).” You finished for him.
“Bucky.” He stuck out his hand for you to take. Your lean fingers easily slipped into his larger ones and he pulled your hand to his mouth, placing a light kiss on your knuckles.
You left him on the street as you walked up the stairs and fished your keys out of your bag. As the front door swung open, Bucky’s voice stopped you from going inside.
“Hey look, it stopped raining.”
You turned around to see his arms stretched out and his eyes closed as he looked to the sky that now held a rainbow. You shook your head at him and giggled, the sound making him smile brightly and turn to look at you.
“Wanna go for a walk?” he asked, cocking his head toward the sidewalk.
You smiled. “Lemme change,” you said, pulling at the wet skirt clinging to your legs.
He nodded and leaned on the railing, a promise to be there when you returned.
So my lock screen collage was much better well received than I was expecting so, since so many of you liked it and since it is a certain Mr. Scientia’s birthday ‘today’ (an hour off in my timezone but its the 7th elsewhere in the world rn so who the fuck cares
¯\_(ツ)_/¯) I am sharing my non-lock screened version for all of y’all because everyone needs a beautiful phone to wake up to in the morning.
Tumblr is probably going to bollocks up the picture so here is an imgur link to it. It was made for iPhone 7 plus resolution (1080x1920) so it should scale to any other size nicely.
Since it didn’t take half as long as I expected I am also tempted to do one for my ipad so they can match once I have had the chance to get onto my platstation and rummage for even more screenshots for the bigger size (ahahaha i say this like I might not have enough ahahahahahaha I have enough to sink the titanic all over again….) If I do you can be sure I will share that as well o/
I bought the soundtrack for Studio Ghibli’s latest film, When Marnie Was There, in anticipation of its western release next month, and I have to say that it’s absolutely stunning. Muramatsu’s score is heartwarming, nostalgic, emotionally affecting, and lushly orchestrated; it’s the most beautiful listening experience I’ve had in some time. Studio Ghibli films always have lovely scores, but this one is so particularly soulful and enchanting that I feel compelled to share a bit of it with Tumblr. If you like what you hear, please buy this score! It’s available on the iTunes store and it’s an ethereal listening experience.
So Ive had no internet for a few days... so heres the news...
I found a new favourite book to share with you all…. not sure exactly how many of you know about it, but its called “Viridarium Umbris” and is by Daniel A. Schulke. It has a thorough knowledge of potions, herb collection and appropriate times for collection plus much more. Its a pretty good read. Heres some stuff from inside the book as well as some of the beautiful artwork..
In my nearly five years in Theatre, the most common question I am asked is how I ended up in Theatre. This question has many answers. Most stemming from a childhood spent consuming every Disney movie I could get my hands on. Some of the most intriguing inspiration can be traced back to a very unique person by the name of Howard Ashman. Being born in the mid-1990’s, had its advantages. I had all the classics and the Disney Renaissance films readily available for me. The renaissance of the 80’s-90’s would never have occurred without Howard Ashman. His love of Disney, not unlike my own, permeated his art, both on the screen and on the stage. When he came to Disney after Little Shop he shared his knowledge of stage practices with the animators and story teams, cementing the futures of Disney and Theatre. They are now forever entwined. Without his influence on Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and Aladdin, I doubt Disney would still be making animated films. Unfortunately, Howard died on this day 26 years ago amidst the AIDS crisis that took so many in and outside the Arts community. Today is bittersweet. I’ll never be able to express in person how much his contribution to Theatre and Animation has affected me, but I am joyous for all the work he left behind for us to enjoy. His songs of love, courage, empathy, and hope will reach far beyond my generation and for that, he will never be forgotten.
“To our friend Howard, who gave a mermaid her voice and a beast his soul, we will be forever grateful.”
Swooping Confession (Newt Scamander X Pregnant!Reader)
@itsjustsuds: HI! Okay first of all, I am in LOVE WITH YOUR NEWTXREADER FICS. So, secondly, I have a request of my own:) Could you write one with a muggle reader telling newt shes pregnant? (It would be really cool to have snippets from the pregnancy to the birth, Personally I would love to see Newt all fluster during the delivery…BUT I"ll love what ever you write!)
Word Count: 780
A/N: ARG I FEEL LIKE THIS IS SO BAD AND ITS SO SHORT TOO IM SORRY WORLD!I also had no idea what to name it, hence the boring title -_-
You pace back and forth, trying to contain your overflowing, mixed emotions.
How were you going to break the news to Newt? How would he react? You were scared to death yet something, at the back of your mind made you feel warm and giddy inside.
You stayed quiet for the first couple of days, still trying to find the perfect way to deliver the news to your husband. But you couldn’t wait any longer, you had to confess now.
Hesitantly, you lower yourself gently into his case. His working figure scurried around inside, clearing away stray glass vials and lugging dozens of books in his arms.
As you approach him you suddenly come to halt, forgetting your not-so-well thought out plan. His name had already escaped your lips and you stood there, frozen in place as he spun around to face you.
Screw the plan, you say to yourself. I’m winging this.
“Hello love.” he says gently, with a lopsided smile. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting distant lately.”
Dang it, he knew you so well.
Your eyes must have widened because he came over and wraps his arms around your frozen figure.
“You can tell me anything,” he murmurs gently into your hair. “I’ll support you.”
You nod and take a deep breath, ready to tell him everything when the Swooping Evil flies out of nowhere, knocking you out of Newt’s protective arms and on to the ground. It hovered slightly over you, teeth bared.
You laugh nervously, stroking its head, calming it down, desperately hoping that your brains wouldn’t be its next meal. Not like you and the Swooping Evil weren’t on good terms, you two had shared many memorable moments, it’s just the thought of it feeding on human brains that bugged you.
“Oi! How many times have I told you to leave her brains alone?!” Newt cries, frantically opening the shed door and beckoning it outwards. It gave a human like shrug and swooped gracefully out the door, a beautiful blur of colours.
“I’m sorry, love. Although I never knew why he was so fond of your brains and not mine,” he says with a smile, pretending to be hurt. “It must be as perfect as the rest of you.”
“Haha, well it might be because there’s another brain in my body.” you blurt out, laughing rather loudly afterwards. You mentally facepalm yourself, wanting to bang your head against the wall. Smooth, (Y/N) smooth. That was probably, undoubtedly the worst possible way to tell him. Maybe winging it wasn’t a good idea.
Without looking at Newt you quickly spin around on your heel, heading out of the case when Newt gingerly reaches out and grabs your arm, preventing you from running away from your problems. Dang it.
“(Y/N),” he murmurs gently, pulling you closer. “What did you say? Are you saying…what I think you’re saying?”
You look up into his pleading eyes full of hope and you knew that you couldn’t hide it anymore. You had to tell him properly.
“I’m…I’m pregnant.” it escapes from your quivering lips.
What happens next is a complete blur. Newt bodily lifts you up with his strong arms and spins you around, laughing. You hold on to his strong figure tightly, a smile rapidly spreading across your face.
Newt suddenly lets you down, a frantic look on his face.
“I didn’t hurt the baby did I?” he asks, faint worry lines appearing on his forehead.
“No, don’t worry.” you say, reassuring him. His worry lines disappear and his face resumes a beaming smile.
“I’m going to be a real mummy!” Newt cries happily, squeezing your shoulders with excitement.
“Newt, you are already a mummy to all of your creatures. You’re going to be a daddy, a father.”
Newt stares nervously after your figure on the hospital bed and walk over to one of the scurrying doctors.
“Are you sure you’re doing this right?” Newt didn’t know about them, but this was definitely not how Graphorn breeding and birth worked. He tried to give the nurses some tips and encouraging advice but they all just shot him looks of disapproval before attending to you once more.
“Sir, calm down. Everything is completely normal and under control.” the doctor says sternly. “If you attempt to interfere again I will kindly have to ask you to leave.”
Newt wanted to protest but all thoughts left his mind when he heard the sound of a baby crying.
His baby, your child. A beautiful child was suddenly put into his arms.
All he could remember after that moment was that he felt nothing but intense waves of happiness.
Request: “Could you please
do a supernatural Castiel x reader. Where castiel is acting strangely and after
a awkward conversation with the angel, Sam works out he is in love with reader.
Dean and Sam encourage Cas to tell her. She is shocked but overjoyed. Thanks
love your writing”
Pairing: Castiel x Reader
Word Count: 1682
The sun rays flickered through the line of trees, the Impala’s
roaring engine becoming more comforting as you became accustomed to it. The
wind blew your hair in every direction, twisting it into tendrils that flew in
the air, flicking your face with tiny stings that made you giggle. Castiel
watched you smile to yourself, your hand hanging out of the window, your
fingers stretching through the fast airstream that passed over the car going
about 100 miles per hour.
Cas started going over the little facts he knew, trying to
distract him from the blissful scene that took place right beside him. Again,
the car was going about 100 miles per hour. 103 to be exact. It was 3:52pm, and
your moving bodies were travelling along the Mayfair highway in Arkansas, at
this second to be at a latitude of 35.2010 degrees North, and a longitude of 91.8318
degrees West. In about 4 minutes and 23 seconds it would start to rain, but
would only spit down for 54 seconds before the small cloud evaporated and the
sun reined the skies once more.
He recalled these facts with ease, his angel capabilities aiding
him with a limitless supply of useless knowledge. But there was one fact he
couldn’t push from his mind, no matter how many others he tried to pull over
the top of it.
I have been undone by the greatness of what I felt. How can a tv show affect people so deeply? It’s just a tv show… and yet, it isn’t. This kind of impact is the peculiar effect that works of art have on our minds and hearts - and that is what Black Sails is: a work of art, a work of contemporary art.
I cannot begin to say how much this journey has meant to me. As I watched the series finale, at one point I realised something that I’ve known all along: what I’ve seen in, what I’ve discovered through, what I’ve felt for Black Sails have changed my life, so to speak. It’s not about the stories and characters in and of themselves, but it’s about the deep humanity of it all. There is everything a human soul can feel: all kinds of love, all kinds of rage, all kinds of hate, all kinds of despair, all kinds of ambitions, all kinds of hope, all kinds of dreams, all kinds of failure, all kinds of obsessions… I can think of very few other works of narrative that have done quite so much. Very few, and none in this way.
Because Black Sails to me has been all consuming, all encompassing, a visceral experience. I have never been able to watch it in the casual way I watch many other shows. Every episode, from the very start, has always been such a powerful experience that never left me indifferent, that left its marks upon my mind.
It’s hard for me to feel alive, sometimes. It has always been so, it’s a state of emotion that goes way way back to childhood. It’s just what it is. I constantly need to feel strong emotions, to make sure that I am all still here, and not just my body, not just an empty shell. To truly feel alive, I need to feel burnt and pinched, I need to feel the discomfort of feeling too much all at once. And Black Sails helped me. Black Sails gave me that. Every time I’ve felt down, it has always helped me defeat my biggest enemy, my greatest fear, my worst nightmare: numbness. It has rekindled the fire in my eyes every time it got threatened to be put out. I will be forever thankful to have had this.
I could go on and on about how great Black Sails is, how important its approach to diversity, sexuality and other important themes is, how masterfully created and perfectly executed… But we already know all about it. Instead, I’ll keep this short and say that I am grateful that I was allowed to witness these stories come alive for all of us, and that I am incredibly happy that I got to share this wonderful, unprecedented and intense journey with so many beautiful, kind, smart, creative people. Sharing it with you has made this whole thing even more powerful.
To all the times we’ve sailed together, and all the times we’ll sail again - because our adventures are not over.
Imagine: You had just been transformed into a vampire and commited your first kill, which induced you to turn off your emotions in order to help you cope. Yet, being so close to the Mikaelson family, they would not allow you to stay that way for long. However, despite how hard they try, the only one who manages to break down your walls is Kol Mikaelson.
Warnings: lights descriptions of torture, mostly fluff and swearing. no biggie.
Word Count: 2503
I fell onto the cold, hard ground, finally realising what I had done. Blood was spilt across my face and my body, proving it was not just some twisted dream fabricated by my mind to punish me for becoming a vampire; no, I had actually killed all those people. Their limp forms were scattered throughout the dark room, their necks broken due to my brutally. A growing pain took over me, leading to a strangled, loud gasp to crawl out of my lips. The guilt was too much for me to overcome it so easily.
“Y/N?” A deep, somehow soft too, male voice cut through the devastating silence. “What happened here?”
“I murdered them.” I managed to blurt out, tears already streaming down my warm, red cheeks. “I was angry, scared, hungry. I-I couldn’t control myself, Kol. I just couldn’t.”
“Oh baby.” He whispered in a soothing tone, one I did not deserve. “I hate to see you like that! It was a mistake. You’re new, it happens.”
“No, no, no. I ripped these people from their lives. I shouldn't… I can’t!”
“Y/N, listen to me!” My eyes were screwed shut, yet, the salty teardrops kept descending, reaching my bottom lip. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Turn it off.” Someone else said, coming from behind Kol. “You don’t have to suffer because of this. Just turn it off.”
“Are you insane, mate?” The tall, brown haired man yelled, obviously mad at the proposition. “She’s not going to do this!”
Damon smirked, tilting his head slightly, whilst graciously leaning against a covered with scarlet blood wall. Although it was a entirely crazy idea, my Salvatore friend had a point. Turning my emotions off could be really helpful, for it would rule out of the game all distractions. It would help me develop as a vampire. Plus, if I experience even one more ounce of this crushing pain I have inside now, I would surely break.
For one second I felt everything rushing through me, every bit of feeling, like pure energy was flowing inside my veins, and then it was over. I did not feel a thing. Not guilt, not sadness. Absolutely nothing. Solely void was left behind.
“Y/N, please tell me you didn't…”
A bright, wide smile curled my lips, revealing there was nothing that the mighty Mikaelson could do, except enjoy this new side of me.
“I did, honey bunch.” I winked at him, getting back on my own feet. “Now, if you excuse me, I have a few business to solve.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” Kol stated, grasping my wrist and forcing me to stay where I was. “And Damon, you better disappear before I have the chance to rip your heart out.”
Those words said, it took less than a split second for the plain white room to get suddenly crowded. Stefan and Elena went to Damon’s side, gently clutching his arms, assuring he would stay in place; yet, they did not come alone, for Rebekah, Klaus and Elijah rapidly approached their reckless sibling as well. I sighed, starting to get utterly bored from this whole situation.
Klaus cleared his throat, moving one step ahead and shooting a fierce look towards the Salvatores. He was obviously not happy to be seeing this horrific scene.
“Alright, who is going to explain what has happened here?”
“Why was Kol threatening Damon?” The brown haired doppelgänger quizzed, quirking an eyebrow. “I thought we had decided to call a truce. For Y/N’s sake.”
“He pushed Y/N into turning off her emotions.” The younger Mikaelson brother said, narrowing his eyes and still keeping me under his tight grip. However, even though this dialogue was annoying as hell, I could not care less about what was on the verge of happening. “Is it enough or you fellas need me to find another reason to be mad at the glorious Damon Salvatore?”
“You mean she…” Rebekah’s voice died out before she finished her sentence and her sibling replied with a weak nod. Man, those people were simply pathetic! “Let’s go home, then. We need to get Y/N back as soon as possible.”
Ultimately, I pushed Kol’s hand away from my upper arm and went to the centre of the room, staring each person standing in there. They had quickly formed a circle around me, perhaps thinking they could avoid my escape. Fools.
I chuckled, sustaining their strong glances at me and crossing my arms on my chest.
“Uh, if I may have a say on my own life, I don’t want to turn back on. I’m actually feeling pretty good the way I am.”
“I’m sorry, love, but you have no idea what you want right now.”
“Out of everyone, Klaus, I really thought you would appreciate this new version of me.” Licking my lips, I walked smoothly to where the Hybrid was whilst hearing everyone’s breathing hitch on their respective throats. “I was obviously wrong.”
“No, darling, you were wrong to get closer enough for me to this.”
Then Klaus, piecing his blue eyes on my own, got hold of my neck, his hands soft on the skin he grasped; sharing one last look, he swiftly twisted it, killing me where I stood. Yet, even though darkness engulfed me pretty quickly, I still formed one last thought: the blond Hybrid was totally right.
The room I woke up to was bright. And amazingly beautiful. Like it belong to a king. Or a queen. Its walls had a miscellaneous set of colours while the expensive furniture was perfectly positioned, like it had been made to that exact spot. The whole thing was simply perfect. However, whatever amazingness I should have been caught into, it was broken the second I realised I was chained up. Urgh, why couldn’t they just let me go? This is so boring!
“She’s awake.” Rebekah muttered, swinging the tall white doors open. “Hello, Y/N.”
“Oh, hello, munchkin.” An ironic smirk lied carelessly on my lips. “Such a nice day, isn’t it?”
“I definitely hate turned off Y/N.” She rolled her eyes, annoyed, yet, I could still see sadness playing on her gorgeous traits. “Come on. I want to try it first.”
“Poor Rebekah, always trying to save the ones she loves.” I said, staring at her emotionlessly. It was odd, though, for the memories of our friendship were still fresh in my mind. I was not able to care, though. “Don’t you get tired?”
The blonde soaked a small blade in a transparent, thin liquid, right before she dug it into me. I could sense the stinging pain, yet, it was not enough. I smiled faintly at her failed attempt to flip the switch back on.
“Try harder, Bekah!” It was teasing. Oldest trick in the world to get people mad. The ones who cared, anyway. “Come on! Fight for me.”
“God, you are such a spoilt brat!” The original snarled, burying the knife deep within my flesh. “Why don’t you obey, for once, the elders?”
“Enough, sister.” Klaus put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her to go any further. “Let me handle it. I might have a better chance.”
“Uh, I feel so especial! The mighty Hybrid caring for me.” A maniac smile changed my traits, giving it a crazy gleam, as he took his sister’s place, removing the blade afterwards. “Well, I should, shouldn’t I? I don’t. I feel nothing. Or does boredom count?”
“Look at me, Y/N.” I raised my chin, defying him by fixating my eyesight on his. “Now pay attention: you are loved. By everyone in this family. We would risk everything for you. Do anything. You’re a Mikaelson just as much as I am. Why don’t you try for us? Me, Rebekah, Elijah, Kol…”
“Really, Niklaus? That’s the trick you are using? Trying to make me feel like I belong?”
“You do belong, Y/N.” He stroke my cheek, his slim fingers tracing my cheekbones. “You are family. Come back to your family.”
“Nah, I don’t think that’ll break me.”
Klaus allowed a tired exhale to slip, shaking his head. I could bet he thought this was going to be easy: just appeal to her loyalty towards her family and she’ll be right back on track. Not exactly, Nik. I bit my bottom lip to avoid a sneer laugh. .
“Don’t make it so difficult, sweetheart.”
“I wouldn’t if you just let me go.”
“You see, darling, that’s not happening. You either flip back on or flip back on. There’s no other possibility.”
“Now what is it? Rage? Or is it pity? Doesn’t matter. It won’t do the trick, Niklaus.”
My last remark had done it for the Hybrid, because the anger within his irises announced what he was going to do next: snap my neck. For the second time. It must be my lucky day.
“Are you awake now, love?” Someone questioned, tenderly massaging my arms, bringing me to a rather spinning reality. I blinked quickly, adjusting to the new found darkness. “Are you okay?”
“I am fine. Perfectly fine.” My voice sounded hoarse, probably due to the hours I spent “asleep”.”I imagined you would be their last resource. The reckless Mikaelson. My boyfriend, or is it ex? I don’t quite know.”
“Oh dear, it’s going to take a lot more than a humanity switch off for you to get rid of me.” He chuckled, bitterly. “I didn’t come here to convince you that this is wrong. I’m afraid you already are aware of it.”
“Then what?” I whispered, fighting against the tiredness. It was getting harder and harder to not feel anything. The emotions were scraping the walls of my head, crawling back to where they belonged. Nevertheless, I would not allow them to surface it. No. Never. “What do you want, mighty Mikaelson? Torture me some more? See if you, out of everyone, can make me flip back on?”
“Nah, I just want to talk to you.”
“Care to be more specific, sweetheart?”
“I want to tell you a story.” He clarified in a smooth tone, his lips dangerously close to mine. His mint scented breath fanning all over my face, making me want to kiss him, to taste that mouth. Urgh. “About a relationship I had in the past.”
“Oh, I see. You do want to bore to death.”
“Quit being a brat and listen!”
“Fine.” A soft sigh escaped as I nodded, agreeing. “Go on.”
“Before I met you, I was madly in love with this girl called Davina Claire. Damn, she was perfect! In every way.” Kol paused, swallowing thickly; perhaps he was struggling with the memories of his old ex girlfriend. “However, when she brought me back to life, it came with a price. I was cursed with an unbearable thirst. I tried to resist! It was worthless, for in the end, she died by my hand. And, God, it hurt like hell! I mean, I had lost the only thing that had ever made me feel something. I killed the only person that had ever touched my soul.”
“Is this supposed to be touching?”
“Oh come on, I’m not finished.”
“Proceed, then. At least it keeps me distracted from this knife buried in my skin.”
“I beg your pardon.” The brown haired Mikaelson smiled, gently, and pulled the blade off, winning a relieved gasp from me. Klaus must have put in back on to keep my blood flowing. “Now, as I was saying, I had lost everything. My magic. My Davina. Then I was bitten by Marcel and put into a slumber.”
“Didn’t you ever live? All your stories end with you in boxes.” The statement slipped and I widened my eyes, surprised. I did not care, why should I be asking stuff?
“I blame Nik for that, but you are right. My life kind of sucked and with Davina gone, it all became pointless again. That was when you, my tiny witty human, showed up.”
“I’m not tiny. Nor witty. Not even human.”
He laughed, clearly amused.
“Yes, you’re still tiny and witty. For me anyway. And I love you. So much.”
“Can’t do anything about it.” I shrugged clumsily, still restrained by the chains soaked in vervain. “This is ridiculous, don’t you see? All of you? I won’t get my feelings back.”
Kol, suddenly, cupped my cheeks, his eyes filled with everything mine lacked. It was hard to sustain the intimate exchange of looks, for tears began to well up on that chocolate sea. If I kept staring, I knew I was not going to be able to resist any longer.
“I don’t want to lose you too, Y/N. You’re the only good thing in my life right now and I can’t afford it. I won’t let you destroy yourself because of a reckless mistake. Because I wasn’t around to teach you.”
I chewed my bottom lip, finally caving in and feeling the energy of my emotions flooding back in. All of it. Pain, guilt, rage, love. Love! I had hurt so many people I loved! How dared I say so many hurtful things to them?
Salty teardrops fell down my cheeks with the realisation of the evil I had performed in the time I spent off. No one should forgive me for what I did or said. I was not worthy of it. A cry rumbled in my chest as I absorbed, bit by bit, the enormous acheness from my previous actions.
“I’m so s-sorry, my love.” Those words came out mingled, stuttered, strangled. I closed my eyes, avoiding the silky, reassuring look I got from my boyfriend when I voiced a coward apology. What good have I done to have someone so sweet to look after me like him? “The pain… It took over me. Made me do things. I thought I was going to break!”
“Hush, sweetheart.” His warm digits silenced me, resting against my mouth delicately. “First let me get you out of these chains.”
“How can you trust me, Kol?”
“We’ve been together for a while now and I got to know your eyes, those sweet Y/E/C eyes, very well. I know when you’re lying.” He broke the iron that held me up, which lead to a clumsily stumble, for I was unable to stand on my feet properly. The brown eyed Mikaelson picked me up, carefully placing me on his toned arms as if I weighed nothing. “Thank you for coming back to me. I don’t what I’d do without you.”
“Oh, Kol.” A goofy sigh slipped. “I will always come back to you.”
Afterwards, a smirk still enlightening his traits, he stole a kiss from my lips. It was just a peck, yet, it made me feel warmer. Of course my guilt, self loathing, hate, the whole package, remained, nonetheless Kol managed to shake it all off, forcing me to concentrate on the present and, for now, that was all I needed.
I love your art so much!! Your comics too, they can go from comedy gold to really feelsy and it's amazing! Also, can you draw Josuke more often please? I love the look you give him! The curly hair and dark skin just aAAAA it's beautiful~
HEY THANK YOU!! This means a lot to me anon ur the best
ALSO I LOVE JOSUKE AND I’m going to share with you this doodle bc it was my original idea for the dancing jojos post But sadly i had to say goodbye- there were too many drawings in there already and i didnt want to murder anyone’s eyes with the overload of information. so i’ve been looking for excuses to finish it and post it
they’d have the cutest friendship!!!!!!! !!!! look man im dying just looking at this picture even tho i was drawing it a few minutes ago. im dead
Warning: cursing, sexual themes, smut I guess, raunchy language, mentions of alcohol, slight mention of drugs but not really, fluffy fluff
Summary: y/n has enough piled on her plate being a full time college student and began a virgin is added to the list. In seek to ridden her purity she attempts to find the right guy. Little does she know that the right guy is more interested in something else rather than her purity.
college is a stressful time for any young adult struggling with their inner bullshit. Each day you are faced with a new face on campus. A new story. Friendships bond over simple conversations that start from inconsequential talk to a mind bending relationship. Just the simple thought is to send anyone into over drive. The simple crave to have a relationship was enough to impassion or have great value to someone resulting in a great impact in there lives. enough to last a life time.
Out of all the faces in the crowd that including mine, I was the only sad bastard that desired this feeling while everyone else establish it without minding a blink. If only they knew how lucky they truly were to have a lucky someone. It doesn’t even have to be someone, anyone. Sometimes we just need anyone. It doesn’t matter who it is. Just anyone to remind us what’s it like to live in the moment, and feel something before its over completely.
Sure I did have that one person that attempted to pursue these unrealistic goals. His name was Jeon Jungkook , but he often went by the name of Jungcock. I remember that specific moment he tried to be that anyone, making me live in the moment but very poorly.
A Olicity Historical AU: Touch can be so much more than just, physical.
A/N: T-rated and Isn’t the edit above just amazing? It reminds me of classic Regency book covers. My beautiful friend @quiveringbunny made it for the story and I’m so grateful. Thank you again so much, Lisa. xoxo
Felicity glanced down at her dance card and the empty, untouched, pristine parchment did not upset her. She did, however, release an impatient sigh as the closest ballroom door beckoned her to walk under its garishly embellished frame and away from the crush of the crowd.