canon ish

 like i’m really unhappy about the fact merlin was a servant for the entirety of the show right, but my favourite thing is that he must have been the top bitch at this castle. like there must have been a chief of the servants, obviously, and it’s not even the fact he’s a very likeable person, but it’s also due to the fact everyone knew what happened with other arthur’s servants.

the fact that he made it, and then never left, and you could get shit done with merlin, he must have been kind of the top figure in the backstage of the castle. obviously not everybody liked him (like the cook), but he must have had people idk, saving him spots, or freeing others because they know how busy he is.

they would always know they can come to him and he actually has ins everywhere, including arthur, and he must have had a lot of contacts, and a lot of people owing him favours which they probably didn’t mind very much. some would probably find him napping off in different places and just find him a special merlin blanket. or give him food when he was running around and he probably forgot to get some for himself. 

idk but it’s a nice thing to think about, and just the fact that merlin’s clothes (which were only seen worn by HIM) george decided to copy bc clearly arthur must have liked those is telling you enough. merlin was just the top bitch at the castle.

Guys, are you aware that there’s a bit in Rogue One, after Cassian’s stirring speech and during Kaytoo telling Jyn he’ll be there for her, that Baze walks up to Chirrut and cups his face?

The entirely legal video clip I have is really bad quality so it’s hard to see, but it’s there, it happened and I am not okay someone hold me

Domestic!Destiel with canon bunker setting based on this tweet:

Dean takes his time in the shower. It’s the one thing he’s extremely grateful for in the bunker. The water pressure is just perfect, beating down on his back and shoulders. There’s a rhythm in his head that’s been in his head the entire day and he begins to sing. Rubbing his hands over his face and ducking his head under the water he doesn’t hear anyone open the door. Hell, he didn’t even realise he forgot to lock it - years of living in motels with just his brother meant he hadn’t really needed to.

He’s just grumbling the chorus when he hears the shower curtain sliding open and whips round with a yelp.

When he blinks water from his eyes and covers himself as best he can with the small face cloth he find Cas staring at him with a bag of crisps in his hands.

“Cas!” He yells. Cas isn’t moving though and hold the crisps out in front of him.

“Dean…”

“CAS!” Dean yelps again.

“Are we - Dean, stop screaming, it’s just me… are we out of cheetos?” His eyes are wide and look impossibly blue in the bright bathroom. For a moment he forgets that he’s only got a face cloth covering himself.

“What? Cas, you’re holding the empty bag, of course we’re out of cheetos.” Cas’ eyes grow wider. Dean sighs. “I’ll make a run… just… just leave me for a moment to finish.”

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas grins. Dean’s pretty sure he is on the verge of melting at that look and smiles back. Cas has gone through eight packs of cheetos in the last week and he’s sure that it’s unhealthy, but buying more of them will make him happy and a happy Cas is a happy Dean. Plus, when they’re pressed against each other watching TV, Dean can’t help but dip into them.

Keep reading

5

I wanted to draw all my Hamilton ships <3 … and by that I means all the ships I have with Alexander Hamilton, and my favourite AUs for those ships. I’ve got a problem.


bonus:

Every night I crawl into his bed to watch him sleep.

Last night was different.

The mutts came for him until I screamed. His comfort became wings. His shushes, promises. My fingers wound around him and his fingers inched inside me, coaxing me to come to him.

All night we came.

Our bodies entwined, we finally slept.

This morning I found him sitting in the doorway, watching the rain. Wordlessly, I joined him.

The door is unyielding, sturdy. The rain, soft. My eyes fall to his hands, and I think about all they make.

If he asks, I’ll tell him.

Taste It - Jim Moriarty x Reader

this one is so weird ahhh

it’s kind of kinky? but super super weird.

yeah i dont know im sorry

(also kinda gross depending on how you are but yeah. Not what I usually write.)

Originally posted by aphgeneralhux


“Argh.” He groaned, clutching his head, tilting his head back.

“What?” You asked blandly, unamused with Jim’s dramatic mood lately. 

He sighed, “(Y/n), it’s just so boring.

“Oh yes I know, terribly so, why don’t you go and play with Sherlock again - oh wait” You look up from your book to meet Jim’s eyes. “You killed him.”

Jim rolled his eyes, “Yes, thank you (Y/n), very helpful, thank you for reminding me.”

There was silence in the one room flat. Jim lay spread eagle on the bed, you sitting in the large armchair.

Tick, tick, tic-

Suddenly, Jim got up and hurled the clock from the shelf. It hit the floor, shattering and the cogs and glass skidded across the floor.

You winced, reaching down to look at your calf, which had been sliced open by a stray piece. It wasn’t deep but it stung, the blood ebbing from the wound.

Jim slid down to crouch in front of you, holding your leg in his hands he examined your wound.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You asked angrily.

He looked up at you, a crooked smile on his lips, “Can’t you just taste it?”

“Taste what?” You asked, not sure you wanted to.

“The sexual tension of course.” He smirked, and with one swift motion he licked up your leg, his tongue stinging against your skin. 

You gasped in pain, your hands going to his hair to hold him back.

“There we go!” He laughed as you held him away from you, exposing his pale, pale neck. 

“You’re sick.”

“True. But you’re a bit sick too, aren’t you (Y/n)?” Jim raised an eyebrow, tilting his head and pouting as much as he could in his current position. 

You shoved him back with a foot to the chest and he fell back on the wooden floorboards, laughing. Sliding off the chair, you leaned over him, your mouth inches from his, “I don’t taste anything, my dear friend.” You spat the last word. 

“Let me show you.” Jim murmured, taking you slowly towards him, giving you a chance to push him away again, but you didn’t. Your lips met his in a messy, clumsy, rage fueled kiss. His hands held your shoulders, pulling you down to him and then under him when he rolled over. 

“Can you taste it now, “(Y/n)?” He asked sarcastically, licking his lips.

“Oh just a taste.” You teased. He smirked and went back to kiss you, to give you a better taste of whatever it was he had. 

And it was good.


Masterlist

How about Stiles finds Derek in the upside down and instead of trying to get out they buy a nice 3 bedroom house and adopt 2 kids and a dog. 

And have lots and lots of sex without having to deal with any of the pack drama. 

Okay, let’s picture a canon-ish scenario in which Itachi refuses to kill the Uchihas.
He won’t stop Danzo, but he won’t do it himself either, and just like in the manga, his condition is that Sasuke must not be touched.

Imagine, after everything happens, Itachi has to raise Sasuke all by himself while lying about what truly happened to their clan.
Imagine little Sasuke trying to confort his brother, thinking that Itachi’s sadness is only caused by the fact that their family is dead and not because Itachi also feels guilty about it.

Imagine Sasuke still forming a bond with Naruto by watching Naruto trying to be noticed, recognized… loved. With no parents to welcome him home. By watching Naruto fight his way throught life. 
So Sasuke reach out to Naruto and one day, decides to take Naruto home with him. Telling himself that the house is too big for just him and Itachi. That they might as well have some help with it is good enough of a excuse to pull the other boy all the way with him.

Imagine Sasuke arriving home with a small and beaten up Naruto behind him and saying to Itachi “He can help in the house” and Itachi can’t say no because is his little brother and he’s finally making friends… finally starting to live again.

Imagine Itachi raising those two kids as best as he can and loving them more than anything else. 

Imagine small and bright Naruto bringing some joy and light to those brothers who have lost everything… and after some years, Itachi watches as Naruto’s and Sasuke’s feelings for each other start to change. He watches and muses to himself how he thought the family would have at least two new member. 

But Itachi is happy. Sasuke and Naruto are happy.

Because they are everything for each other… they are a family and their bond is unbreakable.

Angsty Sister Winchester

Soooooo….. I have to sit down and finish a fic tonight for a challenge, but I have a really angsty sister!Winchester idea. Any one interested in reading it?

Tagging some people who might be interested:

@winchesters-favorite-girl

@jensen-jarpad

@fabulouslycassie

@supernatural-jackles

wedding bells ring

Summary: In which Matt finally decides to propose, Andrew brings up a good point, and Neil is dumbfounded. And so it goes. 

I took part in the @aftgexchange​! This was written for @starshipsandsuperheroes​. I hope you enjoy it :D <3

This can also be read on AO3

Keep reading

Divergent // Sherlock x Sister!Reader

Words // 1573

Warnings // Mention of drowning (That’s it so consider it none

Summary // ‘Must be something comforting about the number three, people always give up after the number three’

Originally posted by sherlockspeare

Divergent, or just different, that was probably the easiest way to describe you. You had always been different, you grew up in a family of four, and it was a simple life. You had an older sister who was very fond of you and very protective, two parents who worked as hard as they could to support the four of you which they did, you lived somewhat comfortable.

You parents had explained very early on that you had been adopted just like your sister as your mother was unable to get children, they tried it before only it never worked and so they settled with adoption, they never regretted the choices they made.

After a while it became apparent to your parents you were different, after they barely started to teach you words you were reading books, quickly getting the hang of pronunciation. This went on until you were a year shy from ten and reading the thickest volumes they had seen in their lives. Things like this kept happening, language came even easier then reading which made you fluent in quite a handful of them. Eventually your parents and school decided it was best for you to take university courses, them being far more appropriate for your level. 

Your parents were somewhat scared at the intellect you possessed but that didn’t stop them from caring about you or loving you, you loved them for caring about you normally, not as though you were some all-knowing insolent child nor some kind of genius just as if you were average which was nice. You sister also helped along with them, encouraging you to do new things and she helped quite a bit with you emotionally developing, realizing that intellect is far from everything.

Once you had gotten multiple degrees you decided to go overseas to the United Kingdom, your sister stayed and so did your parents as your sister was in a rather active relationship and your parents couldn’t afford being away from their new successful company which was a massive hit, at the peaks of its business. You were quite happy because they chose their lives which seemed to be a thing they kept pushing away for you.

You stayed with a friend you had met at university who acted like you were just any regular person, one of the few people not fazed by your intellect which made you immediate friends.

You were walking back to the apartment you shared when you got a call, hesitantly you took it. “Hello?” There was a silence before a deep voice spoke; it was one you didn’t recognize, very likely belonged to a man. “There’s a car behind you, step in please. There is no danger, the men will tell you the same as they are part of the secret service.” You noticed it was being read from a card, the man struggled with some words and sometimes took quite a long pause, the words seemed rather foreign on his tongue.

You looked at the men; they were standing next to a black car, sleek and quite long. You sent a text to your friend and you checked to see GPS was on, if you were going to be kidnapped at least someone could track your phone. The men greeted you with a polite nod and held the door open for you, once you stepped inside the car immediately started driving.

-8-

You arrived at a rather fancy mansion somewhere in the country side, quite a long time away from London but you didn’t track the time which you realized was partially stupid, it was a good precaution to take. You went on ahead inside, once inside there was a man waiting for you, a butler it seemed. He took your coat and gave you directions, at this point you decided you were not being kidnapped but wondered what was going on. A grand mansion, someone wealth, secret service meant extremely influential or government, what could the British government possibly want?

You opened the door of the office and in front of you sat a man; he looked quite a few years older than you. You decided that he must be some part of the government. “Miss Y/L/N, pleasure to see you again. Please, take a seat.” You did, a bit cautious because you were very honestly a bit too paranoid. 

“See me again? I’ve never been in Britain before and I certainly don’t recollect meeting you.” You said a bit bluntly, you were curious more than cautious and decided if you were this important or you were needed for something they wouldn’t do anything if you were rude, all considered it was logical to be rude, most people would be extremely confused and most of them then stop caring about manners.

“I suppose it’s a stupid thing to say, last time I saw you…You were less than two years old.” He said and took a breath. “I suppose you know you’re adopted.” You gave a nod, the man seemed somewhat alike you, not completely but somewhat.

“I’m Mycroft Holmes, possess a minor position in the British government and I’m one of your bothers.” You didn’t think about the whole minor thing, which was a very petty lie as someone like him likely owned the British government.

“One of, there’s another one?” You asked completing half of what he said which took him by slight surprise. “Yes, there’s another one. Sherlock.” He explained and you were quite grateful he seemed to be rather patient with you.

“Why was I the only one?” You asked your voice stoic. You were rather curious about the story but also feared it would be quite extreme, at least you had gotten an explanation for your intellect which was more than you would likely ever had gotten hadn’t you gone here, for that you were already quite grateful.

“It’s… I suppose I should try to keep it short, it isn’t exactly pleasant. There was- is another one, a sister. You’re the youngest, when she was five she had tried to… Drown you. No one to this day knows why but she tried on multiple occasions, everyone decided it was safest to send you away to prevent it becoming fatal.” You gave a stiff nod, it was far from what you expected but had heard weirder things in your life

.“On a brighter note, I see you have multiple university degrees, master mind you.” He said and managed a small smile; you nodded and slightly smiled in return. It was something you were proud of, it wasn’t extremely hard to get them but you did have to put some effort in.

-8-

You spent the whole afternoon talking to Mycroft which was quite nice; it was nice to know about your biological family although you cared just as much as the one you had grown up in all these years. It was a week later when you decided to seek out Sherlock, ever since meeting Mycroft you also noticed the habit of men in suits following you because he occupied a ‘minor’ position in the British government.

You only decided on a week later because you had remembered Mycroft telling you that for a very vague reason he wouldn’t mention Sherlock had forgotten about Eurus and took a week to come up with something believable, at least something normal which Mycroft could confirm with fake files he made up. Your parents just weren’t ready and decided that would be the best, it was as simple as that.

You got out of the car Mycroft kindly had provided and noticed the door was open, once inside you were met by an elderly woman you assumed was Mrs. Hudson, their landlady. Mycroft being Mycroft decided he should inform you on every single detail.

“Oh, hello! Are you a client?” She asked, you gave a small nod as you weren’t sure how to quickly explain you were Sherlock’s sister who had lived most of her life in America and only recently found out they were related, you couldn’t exactly cut that short. “Well, you can go ahead upstairs. John’s not in yet though so you might need to wait a while.” You simply nodded before heading up stairs and opening the door.

Your eyes caught notice of the book shelves and scanned them immediately, you always wanted to read something new or more, most of the time you did want it to be in the few subjects you were interested in as those were the things you cared about most but you were open to a few new ones. “Hello.” You weren’t startled by Sherlock which he imagined you would be as you were fully focused on the books.

You turned your eyes to the man itself. “Hello. Nice to meet you I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You decided to introduce yourself and he looked at you, doing his famous deductions before frowning. You knew you never quite had the intuition and powers of deduction that Mycroft and Sherlock had as you never actively knew or sought them out but you did have some of the skill. “Y/N.” He said, as though he was trying the name out on his tongue.

“Yes, now can we start? John doesn’t need to be here, it’s rather personal.” Intrigued, he did and sat down, his attention fully focused onto you and you sat down as well.

“I’m your sister.”

Johnlock fandom, I love you.  You’re my valentine.  <3<3<3  Your ficlets and head-canons have kept me sane this week.  I spent around 10 hours in meetings, rehearsals, and ceremonies over the past few days.  I had no role in any of them and understood about one in ten words, because all were conducted in a highly formal variation of a language I can barely speak casually.  I amused myself by letting my imagination dwell on all the things head-canon John and Sherlock might be getting up to.  I fear the placid smile I tried to paste on my face may have wandered into wobbly squee, exasperated eye-roll, and naughty smirk territory on occasion.  s’ok, no one noticed, or they were too polite to comment if they did.  ;)

Originally posted by bulecelup

#I love you just like Sherlock loves John

reasons why eleven from stranger things is a trans girl:

  • everyone mistakes her for a boy. “you think you can steal from me, boy?” “she didn’t even look like a girl” etc.
  • the emphasis on her being a girl. if you made a drinking game out of how many times someone refers to eleven as “that girl” or “some girl” or w/e, you’d be under the table by episode 2 
  • her looking at pictures of nancy and saying “pretty.” the way she says it and in context, she’s not just complimenting her. either eleven is gay af (which i’m not ruling out) or she’s jealous, or maybe wistful is a better word. she sees something she wants to be but doesn’t perceive herself as. 
  • a similar incident: when she looks in the mirror after being conventional-girl-ified and just that look on her face. she’s finally seeing herself as she wants to look and be. then there’s the nice moment when she learns to find herself pretty without that classic girl look, which i think goes even further into the trans narrative, esp in a time before hormones n such were readily accessible, bc she’s learning to love the body she’s got
  • her hair, dear god, her hair. it’s a point of struggle for her, and it’s what makes everyone see her as a boy. i’ve said it before, but hair can be v important to trans people bc to the majority of society, it’s a visual identifier of gender. she holds onto that wig for a v long time bc it marks her as a girl. again, she learns to like herself without it, but we can’t forget her original feelings
  • and i know what you’re gonna say: “but what about brenner?? he’s a terrible person so wouldn’t he be transphobic as hell and refer to eleven as a boy?” well you see. it was important to him that she comply and be a willing participant in his hellish experiments, and there’s no more sure fire way to get trans people to do the exact opposite of that than to refer to them as their birth gender. he probably figured it would make things easier if he gave her what she wanted. BAM. 

ok that’s all i got for now but feel free to add any examples i missed!!

JG’s Everlark Canon-ish Fic Recs

Following #ficreddays, here are my Everlark fic recs for stories set in Panem, canon divergence, with or without the games, with or without reapings, with only one victor, or no victors, etc. These are my all time faves because I like pain through words and a side of victory tour, training center, and growing back together smut. I like my Everlark struggling, dark, and angsty or healing, sunny, and bright–and everything in between. I’ve also been reading for nearly five years, so my lists reflect that history.  

Each of these stories stayed with me with happy thoughts or anguished tears because there wasn’t more! All of the kudos to these brilliant writers, thank you for sharing your talents with us!

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The hand is for once in the place where I want it and the arm doesn’t look crappy as a result……

I was listening to this tune while drawing this, it may have made me cry a little ^^’’’. Wanted to draw something canon-ish [like them kissing for the first time], bedroom eyes certainly doesn’t do it, does it? [especially when the chances of them holding hands in the end to show them becoming canon is most likely gonna happen]

Keith’s hair just keeps getting fluffier and fluffier every time I draw it, isn’t it? 

Update: I was in too deep to realise I had once again made their heads large T.T