can't think of a good title for this

weesinginglassie  asked:

Dear Wonderful Mods over here at Imagine.... I am an Outlander Fanfic junkie....I likely need a twelve step program...I stopped reading actual books (of which I used to be an avid reader) and have read nothing but Outlander Fanfic for the last year. It's what I look forward to most very day.... I also like to reread some of the older stuff. I have been desperately trying to find an older fic (can't remember the title or author)... Jamie takes Claire to the stones. 1/2

second part pf question…. they land back in 1743 and try to make the good stuff happen ie: end up married etc., but not the bad stuff. no Wentworth, no losing Faith. Meanwhile at Leoch Claire orders a beautiful sword made for Jamie from a visiting Irish swordmaker. Jealous Jamie thinks C’s spending too much time with Irishman etc… Please! Does anyone know the title to this fic and the author??? Desperate! Please and Thank you all!!!

MOD Note: None of us here at Imagone can place this, so sorry Weesinginglassie. But have some CoC as a soothe for your fanfiction addiction itch. Hope this he helps <3 

Chain of Command - Part 4

It happened very gradually, the steady increase in her size. For a while she managed to hide it effectively with just her skirts and tighter corsets. But soon it became obvious that she was going to have to procure other methods for keeping her pregnancy quiet.

Her time at Lallybroch since her brief incarceration in Inverness had been heavily guarded. Never before had Mama Crook and Brian Fraser been so intent on keeping Claire close to hand.

She’d been kept away from any activities where she was required to leave the house for more than a few moments and her duties in the kitchens had been increased tenfold.

She was under house arrest and she knew it.

Having broken the trust of her adoptive mother, Claire didn’t argue about this silent punishment but it was making her state harder and harder to conceal.

Slamming the book shut, Claire threw the heavy pages onto the floor heaving out a massive sigh as desperation took over.

“I made a vow to keep you safe, and I mean to keep that promise.” She sighed, wrapping the thick cotton around her middle to try and mute the growing swell of her belly.

She had read many pages of interesting advice on pregnancy and care of an unborn baby - but none helped her in the art of keeping it a secret.

Her forays into the underworld of abortion, even as short lived as it had been, had made her incredibly aware of the gift she had growing within her. Guilt also gripped her. She’d come too close to making a disastrous decision and the implications of that made Claire even more determined to do the best for her child - no matter what.

The bairn was precious. Not only was it a part of her, but an extension of her secret love for Jamie. Whatever happened come the birth, Claire would fight with everything she had to raise the baby. Even if that meant losing her position with the Frasers.  

As the seasons turned, the calm quiet at Broch Tuarach broke. The arrival of the MacKenzie party brought a hive of activity to Lallybroch. Ellen’s brothers, Collum and Dougal entered like a tour de force, bringing with them a few of their close relatives. It meant that Claire was snowed under with tasks - from sewing Brian’s best shirts to a constant barrage of cooking and cleaning.

Most of these activities, Claire could cope with. But one unwelcome guest filled her with unknown dread.

Laoghaire MacKenzie was a petite blonde lassie with a wide smile. Given her new house bound status, Claire could only watch through the dusty windows of the big house as the young girl followed Jamie around like a little lost puppy. She watched through wide whisky eyes as Mistress Laoghaire batted her large blue ones, flashing wide toothy smiles and adorning Jamie with sly touches here and there.

Alone in the dusk of the MacKenzie’s first week in the house, Claire slid beneath her well worn sheets, melancholia encasing her. She’d spent the day casting sorrowful glances at Jamie and Laoghaire as the pair had lunged horses in the pastures closest to the kitchen.

Claire had snuck out for an hour, excusing herself to pick herbs in the front garden but the sight of them laughing and joking together had twisted her gut and she’d rushed back inside as quickly as possible, averting her gaze from the action.

“Maybe she’s the one,” Claire sobbed, her hands shaking as they rested on her bloated abdomen, “maybe she’s who he is promised to.”

The babe was more active now, the butterflies morphing into something infinitely more noticeable. As if her unborn sensed her despair, the distinctive feeling of a palm pressed against the inside of her womb.

Holding back a sob, Claire mimicked the motion, trying to capture the hand of her baby. “Maybe,” she whispered, defeat lacing her tone, “m-maybe she’s the one he’ll marry.”

It didn’t take long for Claire to fall into a restless sleep. She tossed and turned, her toes clenching as she dreamed of what her life might be like in only a few months time.

The subtle tang of whisky invaded her senses as she curled her hand around something firm and warm, its human-like heat almost bringing her round. It wasn’t until soft lips touched hers that she jerked awake.

“Hush, Claire,” Jamie soothed, his face a blur in the dark chambers, “‘tis only me…I havena seen ye in so long, a ghraidh…” his voice held such intense longing that Claire felt bad for thinking he was anything less that committed to her. Flashes of his week with the MacKenzie’s, though, appeared before her eyes reminding her in an instant why she had a right to be afraid.

“You know I couldn’t come and find you,” she whispered, her lips seeking his as she felt his breath waft over her face, “Mama Crook has been keeping me busy.”

Jamie wasn’t blind. He had noticed the almost exasperatingly close eye Mrs Crook had been keeping on Claire. Something had happened on their trip to Inverness, he knew that much. But his Da was being annoyingly quiet on the matter.

“That’s why I had to come and see you,” he mumbled, ignoring the need to ask the question. He had a feeling Claire would be equally tight lipped about it. “I’ve missed ye.”

Wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, Claire brought him closer, being careful not to expose her stomach to him - lest he notice the newly formed bump that sat in place of her usually flat belly.

“I’ve missed you too,” Claire replied, unable to hold back. “So much, b-but I know you have *duties* to attend to. I know I can’t monopolise all of your time.”

“Yes, mo nighean donn, ye can,” he interrupted, keen to ensure she knew how much he had needed her close by his side. “I’ve had t’ babysit Collum’s niece the whole week. Ye have *no* idea how infuriating the lassie is!”

Smiling, Claire immediately felt mean for being glad that he hadn’t entirely _liked_ Laoghaire’s company. The fact that he never used her name in conversation made her smile all the wider.

“Go on…” Claire begged, tipping her head to the side as she awaited a fresh kiss, “tell me what annoyed you so.”

Chuckling, Jamie ran a lone finger across Claire’s heated brow as he nudged his nose against hers. “Weel, for a start she doesna hush. She talks nonstop about the most absurd things. Baubles, trinkets and shiny things that I have no interest in.”

“But she helped you with the mares the other day, she seemed invested in that,” Claire probed, her heart lightening significantly as Jamie’s tale went on.

“Aye, she wa’ there alright, but she wasna interested in that actual job of it. The whole time I couldna help but wish it had been you out there wi’ me. You’re helpful!”

“I recall last time,” Claire laughed, energised by this turn of events, “you told me that I was a liability with the horses!”

“Ha!” Jamie scoffed, rolling his eyes in the dim blackness, “well now I know better, don’t I.”

“Good to know,” Claire returned, snuggling against Jamie’s neck as the birds began to tweet outside. Morning was coming.

Moving his hand gently down her chin, along her neck and over her collarbone, Jamie made to sneak his fingers beneath Claire’s bedsheets - needing to feel her, desperately seeking her warmth.

Claire’s heart stopped, a deep pounding rattling her bones as she hastily grabbed Jamie, ceasing his movements completely. “Not now, we can’t –not enough time,” she whispered, her mouth going instantly dry.

“Aye,” Jamie replied breathlessly, “I ken.”

She could tell that he was disappointed, and so was she. Even here, alone and cocooned in the dark of her bedroom she hadn’t the strength to tell him. Looking him deep in the eyes, she noticed the pure innocence that radiated from him. She felt a bolt of lightning shoot through her and – in that moment –  she almost told him. Almost.

But the cuckoo clock chimed upstairs, the ding of it reverberating through the floors of the big house causing the floorboards to shake.

“I haveta go, Claire,” Jamie sighed, defeated. He’d felt something change in that moment and he had been *certain* she was about to tell him something. But the chance had gone, broken by the sounds of the house beginning to wake for the day. “But I’ll see ye soon, aye?”

“Yes,” Claire answered, watching sorrowfully as Jamie disappeared back upstairs. “I’ll be here…we’ll be here…”

It wasn’t long after that the MacKenzie’s made their apologies and left - back to Leoch. With Laoghaire gone, Claire relaxed, her fears that she might be bound for Jamie’s affections fading. She could dutifully ignore everything else and the days began to bleed into one another.

Waking one night, alone, she felt her skin prickle with want, her thighs clenching as if Jamie had been there touching her.

“No,” she sighed, determined to fight the urge, “can’t…”

Sleepy as she was, she could feel desire tugging at her, its persistent voice growing only louder as she tried to force herself back to sleep.

Claire could feel him, even though she was certain that he wasn’t *actually* there.

Twisting onto her other side, her face now angled towards the door, she blinked. Her eyes opened slowly, allowing her gaze the chance to adapt to the inky blackness that surrounded her. The door remained closed.

'For the best,’ she thought, blearily. Knowing that she would have broken down – and told him everything before begging him to take her – had he appeared.

Slipping her hand between her legs, Claire calmly slid her shift aside. Temptation was too much, in the end, and she shut out the niggling doubts that whispered at her not to touch herself like this. With Jamie still close by she could ignore the depressing thoughts and focus on the more positive ones.

Brian, she’d overheard once, had often told the boys that although the bible saw it as a sin, they were better off committing acts of self gratification than getting themselves into bother with ladies and intercourse.

Taking this advice, Claire mimicked Jamie’s actions - from what she remembered of them - sneaking her palm between the crease of her legs and applying pressure to where she ached the most.

A burst of lust shot through her on first contact, and she thrust her hips, her teeth biting around her pillow in an attempted to quell the wails she so desperately wanted to unleash at the feeling.

It wasn’t Jamie, but she could imagine that it was. It was his voice that whispered in her ear. ’That’s it, Claire. Aye. Come to me, mo nighean..’

Curling her fingers, Claire gathered the growing moisture using the lubrication to stimulate her further as she wrapped herself neatly around her protruding belly.

She swore she could feel Jamie as waves of pleasure washed over her, the current pulling her under time and time again as her spine flexed and her knees trembled. Faster she moved, sweat gathering on her brow and dripping down the side of her face as she moaned soundlessly, crying out Jamie’s name as a deep throb intensified and rolled through her bones. She felt weightless, tingling beginning in her toes as her tongue peeked out from between her red stained lips.

“J-a-m-i-e…” she panted, her muscles spasming as she jerked and stilled, her body trembling with the pressure of it as she pulled in shallow breaths to remain conscious and lucid.

Claire awoke as the sun burst in through her tiny window, sleep colouring her vision as she rubbed her eyes and stretched her legs beneath the sheets. Morning. The chime of the clock brought her around fully as the telltale sign of life pounded above her.


The irony wasn’t lost on her. A day for church. A day for confession, if she so needed. The night before appeared behind her lids and she blinked away the memory.

She had so much to atone for, and too little time.

Grabbing the large bandages, Claire began to strap herself up, all the while being careful not to hem herself in too tightly. Her corsets felt uncomfortable now, their intricate boning jabbing her in all the wrong places as she tried to ensure her tummy didn’t look suspiciously large.

She could feel the baby flop inside her, the tiny bairn wriggling as if vocally displeased with her new living arrangements.

“I’m sorry,” Claire whispered, looking down at her now (mostly) flat abdomen, “I’m so sorry, sweet one. Not for much longer…promise.”

Following studiously behind Mama Crook, Claire filed into the pews, taking her seat behind the Fraser’s as the priest began the sermon. She didn’t hear a word. The hour passed like a blur in front of her eyes as she nervously jiggled her leg against the cold stone floor of the church.

She knew the priest, they all did. And although she knew he was sworn to secrecy - she was no less afraid to discuss this matter with him.

Someone would now know her secret.

Someone who *still* wasn’t Jamie.

That thought tugged at her heart and she felt distinctly like a scarlet woman.

Waiting quietly, Claire counted the lead lines that lay between each beautiful portrait on the stained glass windows. Images of biblical events filled her vision - the pregnant depiction of Mary being raised to the heavens by God to be the mother of his child cementing itself in her brain as she sat rigidly in the wooden seats.

She was no chosen one. Simply a girl caught in a spot of trouble.

“Claire?” Mama Crook called, waking Claire from her daydreaming, “time for ye, lass…”

Stumbling towards the confessional, Claire gripped her rosary tight. Truly she hadn’t much thought of religion. She had gone to church, confessed and prayed like everyone else but it had never been something she’d either feared or delighted in. It simply was the way of life.

Now, however, it seemed incredibly significant.

“F-forgive me, father,” Claire began, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she shifted against the cushioned seat of the confessional box, “for I have sinned…”

Feels Like The First Time

Who’s ready for more Word Vomit™???

I wrote this (very rushed) thing for jdronica day. I’ve had writer’s block for like…..ever… it’s not very good lmao, but have some Domestic Babies. It can be interpreted as an AU if you want but it doesn’t have to be. 

(the title is very unabashedly stolen from a Foreigner song that i absolutely love lmao)

Anyways, peace out from ur local friendly trash blogger, and happy jdronica day! whoop!

(have i already used this gif? probably. am i gonna change it? no lmao)
Veronica woke to the sound of rain. As she slowly became more aware of her surroundings, she realized she wasn’t alone in her bed. There were arms around her, and her head, instead of resting on the pillow, was on someone’s chest. JD’s chest, she remembered, and a small smile spread across her lips.

“Good morning,” she heard (and felt) him say to her, and she made a noise of agreement, not moving from where she was.

“I would certainly say so,” she said, raising her head to look at him. “It’s not every day you wake up next to your boyfriend for the first time.”

He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak, but she pressed a finger against his lips to quiet him, a small laugh escaping as her eyes twinkled.

“I don’t count the time I got crossfaded and tumbled through your window at 2 AM,” she said, pretending to be stern. 

“Okay,” JD said, amusement in his eyes as Veronica laid back down, moving as close to him as possible as she let out a happy hum.

“We do have to get up soon, Veronica,” JD said after a minute, glancing over at her alarm clock before he pressed a gentle kiss to her hair. “School starts in an hour and a half.”

“Ew,” Veronica grumbled. “What if we just don’t go?”

JD chuckled and gently eased her away from him, standing and reaching for his flannel overshirt.

“C’mon, love, you know how important it is. You do wanna get into a good college, right?”

Veronica sighed and wrinkled her nose at him before she stood, too, grabbing her outfit for the day and moving to the door.

“I’m gonna go change,” she told him. “Then we can go downstairs. My parents are out of town, so I’ll make breakfast. Oh, if you wanna use the other bathroom to like, freshen up or whatever, I’m gonna use the master bathroom. It’s got a better mirror.”

JD laughed softly.

“Thanks,” he said, and she slipped out the door, an uncontrollable grin spreading across her face.
“I was thinking scrambled eggs and toast,” Veronica said, frowning thoughtfully at the contents of the fridge. JD raised his eyebrows, making his way over to wrap his arms around her waist and rest his chin on her shoulder, looking into the fridge too. 

“That sounds super good,” he said. “Can I help?”

Veronica smiled and grabbed the loaf of bread, setting it on the counter before she turned in his arms.

“I dunno,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and letting the fridge swing shut. A small smile spread across her lips. “You might end up distracting me, and I don’t wanna burn the eggs.”

“Distracting you?” JD asked quietly, and Veronica chuckled.

“Yeah,” she said, leaning slowly closer to him. “I might wanna kiss you….and then kiss you again……and again……and again…..”

“Is that so?” JD murmured, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Because I think that sounds fantastic.”

Veronica hummed and, true to her word, kissed him again, though this time she lingered a few moments before pulling away.

“Me too,” she sighed, kissing him one more time before she pulled away gently. “But as much as I’d love that, I’m actually starving, so food it is.”

JD groaned playfully, reaching out to briefly tickle her sides as she squeaked in protest and wriggled away.

“If you must,” he said, heaving a mock dramatic sigh as Veronica rolled her eyes and grabbed the carton of eggs from the fridge.

“We can make out later,” she told him, reaching for a bowl to mix the eggs in. “Would you put a frying pan on the stove and turn the burner on to like 6 or 7?”

JD did as she instructed, and Veronica only slightly burned the eggs (though she insisted that she hadn’t), and soon they were sitting across from each other at the table.

“Do you, like…..pray over your food or anything?” Veronica asked hesitantly, and JD shook his head.

“I don’t pray as a general rule,” he said. “Is that something your parents do?”

“Yeah,” Veronica scoffed, shoving a bite of eggs into her mouth and chewing them briefly. “I don’t, though, when I’m on my own.”

JD laughed, taking a bite of his own food.

They finished breakfast relatively quickly, and Veronica left the dishes in the sink. 

“Soaking,” she said as JD raised an eyebrow “and I’ll put them in the dishwasher later.”

“Sure,” he teased. “C’mon, we’re gonna miss the bus.”

“Ugh,” Veronica sighed. “Rain check on that makeout session, then?”

“Oh, definitely,” JD grinned, holding out his hand for her to take. “But if we don’t hurry, we’re gonna have to walk, and it’s raining.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Veronica sighed, taking his hand. “But for the record, I definitely would not have been opposed to skipping school today and claiming I was sick so we could spend the whole day cuddling and making out.”

JD raised his eyebrows at her.

“A very tempting proposition,” he said, glancing at the door and then back down at Veronica, who looked up at him innocently. 

“Your call,” she said, and he glanced at the door again before a grin spread across his face.

“Fuck it,” he said, pushing her backpack off her shoulders and leaning down to kiss her. “We can always go tomorrow, right?”

“Oh, totally,” Veronica said, a smile spreading across her face as she kissed him again. “C’mon, my bed awaits.”
“This was definitely the best idea ever.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“Did you already text your parents?”

“Oh, yeah, they think I’m sick. They already excused my absence.”

“Excellent. Hey, Veronica?”


“I love you.”

“I bet I love you more.”


“Mmm, yeah.”


“You know what? Let’s make out about it.”

“Fantastic idea, love.”

“Why thank you.”

“Oh, stop talking and kiss me.”

Picture this: you’re at some drunken party downtown. There’s stale beer in one hand, the rim has your lipstick stain on it so now you’re worried that your mouth is looking patchy. You’re holding a slightly smoking cigarette in the other, but not taking it in because it makes you cough and you’re embarrassed that someone will see. You’re shuffling awkwardly to a song you don’t know the name of and you feel small and estranged. Like an island, like the last one to be picked on a sports team. Your friends are standing in dark corners now, talking to boys who want to touch their skin but not their souls and certainly not both at the same time. You’re standing there wondering if you’re ever going to feel less lonely, less like you’re standing on the precipice waiting for something that doesn’t want to come. You’re going to wrap your arms around yourself and take a sip of that stale beer. Then you’re going to go home at 3AM and crawl into your mother’s arms and cry all your empty out over her nightshirt.

Hold onto this thought: there is something glorious trembling at the very edge of your horizon. You are not your hollow nights, or your lack of self belief or all the times you kissed someone you didn’t even want to kiss. You’re not your one night stands or your endless string of boys who fucked you and left you. You’ll get your shit together, soon, maybe not today and maybe not even next year but you will. You’ll move out and you’ll call your parents on the weekends to tell them you love them. There’ll always be milk and eggs in the fridge. You’ll get a job that feels good. You’ll fall in love and he’ll kiss you like he means it and put his fingers in your mouth and it’ll feel like coming home. Everything will shift itself into place.

So you’re at this party and you’re terrified that you’re always going to feel like the word “missing” but take the feeling and swallow it. Take it between your open hands and close your fists around it. You’ve got more waiting for you.

—  Azra.T "Home"

anonymous asked:

for the short shorts pastel anon: "if i'm a saint, then you're heaven" is a good PastelxPunk fic w/ lots of short shorts and some excellent smut at the end. i think i remember one called 'painting phil' that was good too, and another one where they hook up in a public toilet and then go back to their flat and fuck some more too, but i can't remember the title.

If I’m a Saint, Then You’re Heaven - Phil is less than excited to start his Sex in the Bible course, but he can’t bring himself to regret it when he meets a gorgeous angel dressed in all pink by the name of Dan.

Painting Phil - Punk!Phil goes to pastel!Dan’s house so that he can return Dan’s flower crown and get his bandana back, and he ends up staying for a little longer than planned.

- Tori

flowerparrish  asked:

I'm very likely writing my 12 pg final essay on homoeroticism in Hamlet and I want to title it Tragic Danish Boyfriends but I think that knowing my teacher he'd fail me for it simply because I can't PROVE they're boyfriends and it makes me sad.

that is sad but the fact that you get to write an essay like that is fucking awesome good work soldier

who decided that ‘blade runner’ is better title than ‘do androids dream of electric sheep?’

featherlit  asked:

How do you think this is all going to end for VS?

This may be the hardest question you could ask me lol

I’m intrigued by the fact I haven’t a clear idea of what may or may not happen, but I’ll catch this chance to write down my speculations, why not.

By now we have an almsot dying Kaisar, a shocked demon/angel-god-saint-whatexactlyisshenow??? duo and a huge dragon claiming for attention.

First of all, I’m praying so hard for Kaisar to live. Bro, he has to, he gotta. No matter what, make him a zombie if necessary, but he can’t die ;__;

I deeply hope El will do the Jesus thing. I mean, in ep 23 they showed us his sleeping face for a reason, right? It could be used to explain how Rita went to help Kaisar, but that reason only doesn’t really make sense to me (wouldn’t it be kinda useless? They could have overlook it as they did with other stuff)

And if we assume El will revive, things may probably take a brighter route (ok, this one in particular is my dearest wish lol)
Like, you know, he could heal Kaisar (yes please????) 

This makes me wonder why we saw Dias carring Alessand on his shoulders? Does he plan to revive him too?! It’s most likely he doesn’t want the body to be destroyed, but you never know, right? Besides, there’s a reddish sky on the spoilers background, are they all in the same place - like the ship that’s fallen - or is Bahamut coloring the whole sky? Dude feels neglected, how can we blame him? 

At last, they all seem pretty damn serious, and Favaro is bleeding too. That smirk he’s making is the one when he’s in pain and doesn’t want to show it, which isn’t good imo, at. all.

B U T Mappa is known to troll us with the spoilers, so maybe he’s just talking to Nina who’s determined to help/save Charioce no matter what.

In the end, there’s the chance for angels, demons and humans to join forces once again against Bahamut, even if this time I reeeeeally find it hard to believe. It’s definitely not like last time, their relationship is more tense, so idk. Maybe Kaisar will convince Jeanne and Azazel about the priorities - aka huge mad dragon approaching - and maybe El reviving will hearten Jeanne (tbh I’m really praying for this to happen too. Mom Jeanne needs El back, please. Those two were so cute together!)

We also saw Gabriel finally! and her serious face may imply how even her realized how critical the situation is, and at least for now she’s moving her pride to the background.

So, maybe they will all be able to fight and defeat Bahamut. How? I have a theory. Since both Baha-chan and Dromos seem to be “ancient creatures”, made and born even before Gods, I suspect Dromos will be the key to finally seal Baha for ever.

This crazy idea of mine would imply Charioce using Dromos one last time and Nina running over to rescue him just in time before Dromos got fused with Baha-chan. (since ep 24′s title is also “Run, Nina, run”)

About Charioce dying or not, I obviously wish for him to live or at least not to die because of Bahamut, and I’m mostly saying that for my little Nina because - man! - she lost enough people into this battle, also her dad died because of Bahamut too. So yeah, no more drama please, we had a lot of it lately.

This is all I have by now, we’ll finally see tomorrow what’s about to come!

It may be way too long I’m so sorry! I just couldn’t stop babbling (*゚ロ゚)

anonymous asked:

Which Led Zep songs do you think Dean put on that track? Listening to LZ right now and keep giggling at some of their song titles and my headcanons ("I can't quit you baby", "Since I've been loving you", "You shook me" and so on).

Idk and I don’t think tbh they’d all be romantic i think they’d be ones that are important to him and what he liked growing up as well, that mean something to him and that he thinks Cas might like.

I am feeling that certain lyrics and a certain, ahem, string of song titles might give Cas a good indication of what he’s trying to get across though :p

Ramble On
Good Times Bad Times
(In the days of my youth, I was told what it means to be a man)
Dazed And Confused (wanted a woman, never bargained for you)
Houses of the Holy
When the Levee Breaks (cryin’ won’t help you, prayin’ won’t do you no good)
Communication Breakdown
I Can’t Quit you Baby
Since I’ve been Loving You
(I’ve been going out my mind)
How Many More Times
Thank you


But this is just a crack theory really….I think the best theory I’ve heard so far is they chose the 13 songs due to there being 13 Led Zeppelin songs in the show so far and hoping for some great textualisation in season 13 :)

silvermooncrystals  asked:

Hi! Love your blog!! I was wondering if you had a list of Ward quotes? I can't seem to find any!

I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I actually do have a list of Ward quotes. I was saving them as chapter titles for my Ward/OC fic. But I’ll definitely share them with you!

“I’m not the person you think I am.”

“Are you a moron?”

“I’m done with lies. You deserve to know.”

“I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”

“Who will I blame for my failures, my weaknesses… my unhappiness?”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Nothing good will come of this.”

“People have been known to start over with nothing.”

“Everyone wants the ability to stop bad things from happening…unfortunately, sometimes, it’s just a matter of chance.”

“Let us do what we do best and save the day.”

The Price of Salt doesn’t have chapter titles. I fixed that.

Chapter 1 - The Apartment of Loneliness 

Chapter 2 - In Which We Meet Our Villain, Richard

Chapter 3 - The Gloves Were a Goddamn Lie


Chapter 5 - What’s Love Got to Do With It?

Chapter 6 - Hot Moms: Hot Milk Special

Chapter 7 - The Saddest Christmas

Chapter 8 - In Which Richard Continues to Suck

Chapter 9 - The Most MAGNIFICENT Evening

Chapter 10 -  The Fast Times of #1 Carol Fan Abby Gerhard

Chapter 11 - Carol Aird, Pleasure Queen; or How Many Times Can You Say Pleasure in a Sentence Without It Being Obvious You Want to Bang?

Chapter 12 -  Ménage a Carol

Chapter 13 - Hit the Road Rich!

Chapter 14 - Little Holland

Chapter 15 - Harold, They’re Lesbians

Chapter 16 - In Lusk

Chapter 17 - Harge is a Real Dictaphone

Chapter 18 - Colorado Springs Awakening

Chapter 19 - Anxiety

Chapter 20 - A Therese Alone

Chapter 21 - “I’ve Got to Say Good-By”
Alternate Title - MY FEELINGS

Chapter 22 - Rebirth

Chapter 23 - Don’t Call it a Comeback

anonymous asked:

Oi, any good Aquaman titles I should check out? Also my dad thinks Aquaman is a wimp who can't do anything, and I've tried to change his mind but he doesn't listen so help with that would be great too. :D

  • he’s the literal king of seas which, just as a side fact, equals 70% of earth’s surface
  • he can go 50ft above water simply by launching himself from inside the sea after reaching 1000 knots or something. he’s like a torpedo made of muscle. holding a pointy stick. oh boy
  • his telepathy can be used in more subtle ways on non aquatic-life too
  • he strong
  • i mean he barely gets hurt by bullets but he’ll probably deflect them before they even reach him
  • fight training that probably comes to him even easier when he’s out of the water due to less resistance? i don’t know just don’t fuck with him
  • founding member of the JL, that gives him at least 40% kickass bonus. he had to put up with batman from the very beginning
  • the atlanteans have never been conquered by outside forces because their soldiers are much stronger than the average human. arthur is the king of a badass underwater clan that uses technology and magic
  • (depending but as a general rule) has the no-bullshit attitude of batman and the empathy of superman
  • as it’s been stated before, “When Aquaman was denied access to a government building and then mocked, he responded by herding several blue whales (the largest mammals on Earth) and caused a small tidal wave to knock the damn doors down.”
  • no can u imagine
  • “lol aquaman you can’t come in”
  • “ok”
  • procees to throw a fucken blue whale at them
  • he’s always composed when he could easily be drowning people left and right because they’re morons

anonymous asked:

Hi! I can't remember if it was you or someone else but i read this bomb ass sub!jimin fic i think called "good boy" or maybe "baby boy" im not too sure, but i was wondering if you knew who it was by? And if its you, I love you?

we dont have a jimin fic titled like that, but we have these sub!jimin things

let mommy ride you - jimin

pretty - jimin

a special treat - jimin

and we do have a yoongi fic titled that

baby boy - yoongi

-admin tal


anonymous asked:

the hag commented on Darren's picture at the booty camp. Why can't she let us have good things

She and the incompetent manager. Because both realize they literally have nothing without D and they need to continue to enforce their roles in his life. And sadly, I think she will continue even after she has lost the title of “gf” to prove how they are BFFs forever!!!

crilbyte  asked:

Prompt: Solas can't sleep and while walking the grounds, sees someone breaking into Lavellan's room (with the intent to either kidnap or assassinate her in her sleep) how does he come to the rescue?

I will tag @dadrunkwriting , since I think this was a related prompt.

I used my OC Serrine Lavellan if that’s okay. I hope you like it!

(I also added a dash of jealous Cullen for good measure)

Title: In the Middle of the Night

Sleep would not visit him that night. He tossed and turned vigorously in the bedroll laid out in the rotunda, the smell of the drying plaster heavy in the air. He opened his eyes and looked up at the drying wolf in the next of his fresco murals. For a moment, he considered using the wasted time to finish, but he could not create anything beautiful in his tired and frustrated state.

He stood wearily to his feet, his lean arms stretched high above him to stir his muscles. All of Skyhold was asleep at this hour, except for the guards and scouts. The usual hum of the bustling in the main hall no longer heard through his wooden door. Perhaps she is still awake. He scolded himself for the thought, but she often shared his troubles with sleep, which usually led to them falling asleep in each other’s arms. He loved the way she fit with him, their bodies joining like two perfectly sewn pieces of fabric. He pushed away his cruelty for lying to her, his body yearning for the sweet sleep he only seemed to experience nowadays with her.

The main hall was glowing in the multi-colored moonlight that shown through the stained-glass windows behind her throne. Her throne. If only she knew how much he worshiped her. How the glimmer in her gray eyes set his heart on fire. How the slightest brush of her fingers against his skin sent all reason from his head. How the fade seemed to pale in comparison to the joys he found being with her.

His pace across the stone floor was slow until he noticed that the door to her quarters stood ajar. She was not so careless to ever leave it this way. His feet moved quickly and silently over, nimble fingers reaching around the door and opening it just enough to let his body past. He looked up the wooden staircase to the second door, which also stood slightly ajar. Lowering himself he moved his feet carefully, finding the strongest parts of the structure so he would not draw any creaking sound. Through the door, it was easy to make it up the stairs.

A figure, large and harrowing stood over his sleeping love. Solas could sense no other magic besides his and Serrine’s, so it was safe to presume that the threatening figure was not a mage. Her head and torso were fully visible to him, and he could see that her breast lay bare, the sheets pulled back from them, and her hair glittering silver in the generous radiance that poured through the balcony doors. He watched as the dark figure reached a hand down to stroke her cheek.

“Shame, you’re so beautiful. My boss wants you dead.”

Solas reacted without thought, using winter’s grasp to chill the man still. Without sound Solas appeared before the man, his face twisted into a snarl.

“An unwise attempt,” he rebuked, pressing both palms to the man’s chest. The chill dissipated and the man was left convulsing under the electricity Solas was striking straight at his heart. Solas watched until the man’s eyes rolled back into his head and foam appeared on the sides of his lips. His full weight fell on Solas’ hands, causing him to stagger backward. Solas lowered the man to the ground, and stood again, his body trembling from the recent expense of his magic.

“Solas?” a sleep-heavy voice inquired from behind him.

Solas turned slowly to look at her, relieved to see that in her stirrings she adjusted the sheets over herself.

“Vhenan,” he said, forcing his voice to a whisper.

“What are you doing here?” she moaned still weighed down with sleep.

Solas moved to sit next to her on the bed. “I had trouble sleeping. I came to see if you were still awake. My apologies for the intrusion.” He did not see the purpose of worrying her over a neutralized threat.

Her hand reached out and brushed along the length of his outer arm. Looking back at her face again he saw that her eyes were now open.

“No need to apologize,” a tired smile thinned her full lips. “Lay here with me, maybe it will help.”

Lusting heat prickled the tips of his ears as he remembered her state beneath the sheets. “I do not think that would be wise.”

“Then,” she began, moving closer to him, “Be unwise.”

Solas was still aware of the man who lay dead just below them. He would need to take care of it, but her hand had snaked its way beneath his tunic and all reason was lost to him.

“Alright, vhenan, alright.”

He stretched himself out next to her above the sheets to keep his thoughts as chaste as possible. She drew closer to him, pushing her head under his arm until she rested comfortably against his chest. She helped to completely relax his body against the support of the mattress. His eyes closed and soon, they slept.


Serrine brushed her palm down the linen covering her down pillow and her eyes shot open. Her bleary vision searched for him, or any sign that he was there with her last night. She was alone, nothing but the sunrise bathing her in an orange glow. Sighing, she laid back remembering what it was like to be in his arms, naked beneath the sheets.

Solas was thankfully awake before dawn, with enough time to leave her sleeping and to remove the body from her chambers. He met the Commander as he exited the door.

“What in Maker’s name is that?” Cullen exclaimed as he looked at the large figure draped about the lean elf’s shoulders.

“An assassin that was prevented from murdering the Inquisitor,” Solas said effortlessly, unbothered by the weight he carried.

“Is she alright? What happened?”

“She was asleep and does not know of the incident. Considering that she has many other pressing matters to worry about, I thought it would be best not to trouble her with mention of this.” Solas gave the Commander a knowing look, which solicited a nod of understanding.

“I suppose,” Cullen started, the words catching in his throat. “I suppose she was fortunate to have you watching over her.”

Solas nodded in response and made his way to the dungeon, where he could easily dispose of the body over the crumbling stone to the mountains below.

anonymous asked:

Hi there, love your work and all the Jonsa fandom, you guys rock! Am I the only one that sees all of the North, from the wildlings to the Northern Lords hating on or at least calling out on Jon if he does bend the knee to Dany cause let's face, we can't blame them really....Just saying. What do you think?

Hey Nonny!

Thanks for the love!  Indeed, our fandom rocks :)

Yes, I foresee a good deal of hate from the Northerners being heaped on that curly head if Jon bends the knee.  The Wildlings?  Well, they’ve not bent the knee to Jon so him bending the knee to D would be a moot point in many ways to them.  Some lords may try to abandon him but it would be foolish for the North to be splintered at such a dire time.  Winter is here.  The biggest threat to mankind marches ever onward.  Egos and titles need to take a backseat.  Jon knows this but someone doesn’t…looking at you Queen of a Thousand Titles.  I think the Starks will remain loyal to him even if they don’t like what he’s done and they will help rally to keep the North together to face the coming storm.   

However, I think if Jon does bend the knee it will not be out of some misguided admiration/adoration of the Dr*gon Lady.  Everything out of Jon’s mouth this season (when he’s not showing that gorgeous and surly rage kitten face at other men on Sansa’s behalf…lol) has been about the threat of the WW.  He’s committed to fighting the ‘common enemy’ and he’ll do whatever it takes to fight them, to protect his home, his family, his sister-wife, and his people…even if that means bending the knee to get some serious fire power in his arsenal.  

Will I hate Jon for doing whatever it takes to defeat the WW?  Of course not.  

He’s been my favorite character since I read the very first book.  Sansa’s my very strong #2.  I don’t like what the show is doing to his character this season to (I suppose) achieve boatbang but I won’t hate Jon Snow.  The only way I could get to that point is if they try and convince us he no longer cares about the Starks and wants to be D’s lap dog.  And I’ll call that one right now…NOT HAPPENING.

Is this ooc stuff from the show going to be painful to watch?  Yeah

I could do without the ‘accidental’ incest and ‘heart in conflict’ stuff personally but it’s Game of Thrones.  They love to make us suffer.

Do I think he’s above playing D in order to get what he needs from her?  Nope

This is the man that lived with the Wildlings for months and had them convinced enough that he’d switched sides to not get killed.  Quite a feat considering how much some of them love killing.  Ygritte was a complication (though without her vouching for him, he would likely have gotten killed).  And while he did come to love her, ultimately, he still betrayed her for his dutyHis duty to the Watch never faltered.  Not till they killed him anyway.  

So, compare his loyalty to the Watch to what he feels for the North.  “It’s part of me and I will never stop fighting for it.”  What was the point of those words if he was going to fall head over heels for silver-haired lady?  Hmmm?  The point is he never will stop fighting for the North and his family.  And he’s not above playing the game in order to achieve his goal of defeating the WW.

Thanks for the question!

tawtutestudies  asked:

hello! im planning on starting my studyblr, but I can't, for the life of me, make pretty notes. I can make neat ones but they only consist of one colored pen/markers and a black pen. the titles are mostly the chapters/subjects written with different ways since i can't do calligraphy. can I preferably, start a studyblr without pretty notes? I actually have some good tips on helping other learns and my only issue is my notes. Thank you!

Your notes already sound really pretty! But even if you think they aren’t you can still start a studyblr. Pretty notes or aesthetic are definitely not required. 

alternative song titles - mitam edition
  • hey angel: are u as obsessed with me as i am with yooouuuu?
  • drag me down: thx for putting up with my bullshit. u never had to but u did anyway, which is great because i'm rlly scared of being alone, ya feel?
  • perfect: fear of commitment™
  • infinity: u left and OUCH u hurt my heart u dick (talkin to u zayn)
  • end of the day: *clap, clap, clap, clap* such heart palpitations, wow, very love
  • if i could fly: (piano, piano) LOVE DECLARATION OF THE CENTURY (piano, piANOOOOOO)
  • long way down: u hurt me and that was soooo unpredictable, i'm saaaaaad
  • never enough: LOOK WE ARE ADULTS WE DO THE SEX / u give rlly good head and that's nice
  • what a feeling: can't believe i managed to reel in a 10, good eyes, good eyes
  • love you goodbye: DON'T LEAVE BEFORE WE HAD BREAKUP SEX. nice outfit btw
  • i want to write you a song: i couldn't think of a creative song title
  • history: we are great, we are cool. pls don't leave (like zayn did)
  • temporary fix: LOOK WE ARE ADULTS WE DO THE SEX II / 'friends with benefits' is an underappreciated concept
  • walking in the wind: a-ooo-ooo-ooo i'm just going for a walk but i like to make even the smallest goodbyes very dramatic a-ooo-ooo-ooo
  • wolves: they call me unreasonably paranoid, very possessive boyfriend for a reason
  • a.m.: drunk banter in the early hours of the morning, fuck yeah