It’s revealing AF that Clarke decided not to get her mother’s boyfriend or ANYONE else above ground except Bellamy. It’s fucked up but gosh, it’s proof more than ever of how MADLY in love with Bellamy she is. Again, it’s fucked up, but damn, the crazy shit she’s willing to do to keep Bellamy by her side??? MAD love right there…
But can we all agree that Catherine Tate and David Tennant have the most pure friendship in the history of friendships? Like they just make eachother laugh and laugh and all their interviews are adorable and I just love them
it feels like it’s been forever since bioware released their first teaser of andromeda – back when that wasn’t even it’s title and all we saw was conceptual prototypes – but at the same time, it feels like it was just a few months ago rather than a few years ago.
and here we are, just a few weeks away from its official release date. i can’t believe we’re almost there
going through the kpop smut tag lately as been
- complaining about underage smut
- a meme
- a fluff with no smut
- someone else complaining about underage smut
- another meme
- fluffs, angsts, series
- no actual smuts
- a decent smut plot appears
- but it’s a bts smut
- of course
- Grindelwald decided he was too much of an inconvenience, and then he decided the man was pretty, and what better way to anger the Director of Magical Security than by turning him into a magical creature, the same ones that his kind would gladly hunt down and kill ?
- Very painful magical ritual, yada yada. By the end of it, Percival Graves is but a tiny, 10 cm high fairy with silver and black wings, aching all over.
- The Director is indignant. He gives Grindelwald the middle finger and tries to fly away, bite the man, do anything to give him a piece of his mind but Grindelwald just mockingly coos at him before placing the tiny man in a glass jar.
- That’s where he stays for God knows how long. Grindelwald takes the habit of talking to him, teasing him about the fact that no one has noticed he’s been replaced yet.
- Graves tries to break his glass prison multiple times, but his magic has been suppressed and changed - the most he can do is make flower crowns appear in thin air. Grindelwald died laughing the first time that happened.
- Graves is not deterred. He keeps trying, sometimes to the point of exhaustion. Grindelwald comes home to find the fairy slumped against the glass, eyes closed, snoring, the shining white light surrounding his body greatly diminished.
- He changes. Graves’ hair grows longer, but all his body hair is gone. He’s paler, more delicate, more like -well- an actual fairy, and he hates it.
- He catches himself humming one day as he passes his fingers through his hair, trying to disentangle the knots, before he stops and wonders horrified what the hell it is he’s doing when he should be trying to escape.
- He asks Grindelwald for clothes. His own human face stares at him and smirks, before conjuring a see-through black dress out of thin air and ordering him to put it on. Graves glares and fumes but does so anyway. “Cute,” Grindelwald whispers as Graves back away, sitting down in a corner of his prison, hands hugging his knees, trying to regain the little dignity he has left. So what if he has to wear women’s clothes? All of this is temporary. He’ll break away eventually, find a way to return to his normal body, and Grindelwald will be sorry.
The dark wizard doesn’t come home one day. Graves waits, and waits.
Was he captured? Graves is thrilled at the idea. But will they have the good sense to come looking for him?
Did they discover who he really was, or was he killed wearing Graves’ face?
One, two, three days pass.
The apartment stays silent.
Graves is hungry, restless, anxious. At least Grindelwald kept him fed. He tries to scream, call for help, send a patronus, anything - but his tiny voice is powerless, and his magic feeble.
Finally, finally- he hears footsteps. He gets up immediately, using the glass as leverage, turning his head in all directions to see where the sound came from. “In here!” he croaks out, though his voice sounds pitiful even to his own ears. “I’m here!”
And then a - man- walks into the room, blue coat billowing behind him, freckles and green eyes searching around until they settle on the glass jar. His face widens into a smile, and Graves stares, awestruck -because damn him if this stranger isn’t the most beautiful thing he’s seen in days - before calling out, “Tina! I found something!”
Graves’ legs shake and give out under him. Tina Tina Tina. She’s not dead.
Grindelwald made him believe he’d executed her.
She’s not dead, and she’s here, and she’s an Auror, and she’ll know what to do.
“Oh, you poor fella,” a voice says near him, and Graves jumps, not having noticed the man come closer and stare at him through the glass. “Come on, we’ll get you out of here. You must be famished. How long have you been here…”
He introduces himself as Newt Scamander, magizoologist, and simply opens the lid of his prison before taking him by the waist delicately and placing him in his hand. Graves wants to scream. Hours of frustration and magical energy wasted trying to break the glass, and all it took was the twist of a human hand to set him free.
“Can you understand me?” Newt asks cautiously. Graves frowns.
“Of course I can,” he says, hating how weak his voice is. Newt’s eyes light up.
“Wonderful!” and then he starts babbling, as if Graves cared, “What kind of fairy are you? I’ve only met a few who could speak our language and they were not Americans, but-”
“I’m not a fucking fairy,” Graves interrupts, glaring, and it certainly has the effect of shutting Newt up.
“Percival Graves. Director of Magical Security at the MACUSA until a certain asshole decided to take my place. Pleased to meet you.” He gives Newt his tiny hand to shake.
Newt gives him his little finger, and Graves wraps his hand around it, trying to make his grip firm.
“Well, Mr Graves,” Newt says, quickly recovering from his surprise, “You need to feed, and rest, and then we’ll see what we can do about your current situation.”
Graves hears a gasp behind him and sure enough, Tina is here, staring at him, mouth open, eyes full of relief and shock.
“Stop gawking,” he mutters. Tina bites her lips, as if she was trying to suppress a laugh.
“I’m sorry, sir, it’s just, I’m so happy to see you, but hm, you look, well…”
Wine and snark from the “failing” 🙄 NYT–also making this Friday better. I’ve always appreciated good journalism, but damn if it hasn’t been extra awesome lately. I think I saw a post somewhere of all the (unintended) ways DT has made our country greater…at least we can focus on those things…