damn these long names


“You know, Astrid, training dragons isn’t the only thing I think about.

“Are you actually saying that to me with a straight face?”

Never forget that Hollyleaf is a black, slender, long-legged she-cat with green eyes who, canonically, is the spitting image of her father, Crowfeather, and was almost named for him.

MDM: !!
  • mare: i want you-
  • maven: !! *freezes*
  • maven: *breathes heavily*
  • maven: *almost faints*
  • mare: -to shut tHE FUCK UP THANK YOU VERY MUCH

Holidays are the best because Tome gets to do what she loves in pajamas, at home: laze around and game <3

For @friendbot as my part of the Mob Psycho 100 Holiday Gift Exchange 2016! I hope you like it and have a happy and peaceful winter! @christmas-shou

Flirting Gets You Far

Originally posted by pans-dreamshade-of-neverland

Pairing: Peter Pan x Reader

Prompt: Could you maybe do a Peter Pan imagine where Peter gets jealous when other lost boys are flirting with (Y/N) because he’s secretly in love with you

Can u do a Peter Pan smut?

Warning: SMUT

A/N: I really love Robbie Kay. Like hot damn.

(Y/N) = Your Name,


You had lived on Neverland for as long as you could remember.  You had never had a real home until you had come to the island. The longer you had stayed, the more you thought of the Lost Boys as your family, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.  But, there was one small problem. You were a flirt. You couldn’t help it, it was just who you were. Most of the boys understood that, and even jokingly flirted back with you. Hell, you even flirted with Pan. You told yourself that the Lost Boys knew you weren’t serious. It was all in good fun.

One day, around midafternoon, you found yourself bored out of your mind. Most of the boys had gone out hunting, leaving you, Felix, Peter, and a couple of the younger boys back at the camp. You sat on a log, whittling away at a stick you had found. Great, you thought, I’m so bored that I’ve decided that making a stick sharp is the most fun I can have. You groaned, and stood up. You glanced around the camp, and spotted Felix leaning against a tree, keeping an eye on the camp. “Felix!” you yelled out, making your way over to him. He looked over at you, and gave a lop-sided smirk in response. You leaned against the tree next to him.

“Felix, I’m so bored. Is there anything we can do?” you asked, looking up at him. He looked down at you, the smirk still plastered on his face. “I can think of something we can do.” He responded. You giggled and raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?” you replied, the mischievous look still in your eye. Felix was about to say something, but all of a sudden, he got pulled away from you. Peter stood between the two of you, a murderous look in his eye. You would never admit it out loud, but in that moment, Peter Pan had scared you. “Felix, don’t you have anything better to do than to be flirting with our little Lost Girl?” he gritted out through clenched teeth. Felix’s smirk dropped, he gave a slow nod, and then he walked away. Peter slowly turned towards you. “(Y/N), come with me.” It wasn’t a request, it was a demand. You gulped, and nodded.

You followed Peter through the dense jungles of Neverland, until you finally reached his treehouse. Once inside, you stood in the middle of the middle of the room, not knowing what to do. You looked up at Peter, who still seemed as mad as before. He looked at you, and finally spoke. “Why? Why do insist on flirting with everything that has two bloody legs?” You were starting to get angry. “Why the hell do you care, Pan?!” His eyes snapped to yours, and you realized you fucked up bad. Your eyes went wide, and you slowly started backing up, until your back hit the wall. Peter stood directly in front of you, his face no more than a few inches from yours. “Why do I care so much? Because you’re mine.” He whispered, and smashed his lips to yours.

 You were shocked, and you had no idea what to do. Peter Pan was kissing you. What. The. Hell.  He pressed his lips harder into yours, desperate for a reaction. You slowly melted into the kiss. He spread your legs with his, placing his thigh between the now open space, and then took your wrists and pinned them to the wall. You moaned into the kiss, and you felt him smirk against your lips. He licked along your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You easily complied, allowing him entrance to your mouth.  He broke the kiss, and starting trailing kisses down your jaw and neck. You moaned, loving the feeling of his lips against your skin. He moved both of your wrists into one hand, while the other one trailed up your shirt. He groped on breast through your bra, while still continuing his attack on your neck. “(Y/N), you’re mine. Why have a second-in-command when you could have the one in charge?” he whispered against your skin, malice lacing his voice. “Y-you’re the only one I want, Peter.” You moaned out.

 He smiled against your neck, and took off your shirt. He trailed his hand up your smooth skin until he reached the fabric of your bra. He reached around, and somehow unhooked your bra with one hand. He dropped your wrists to let your bra fall to the ground, and then immediately pinned them above your head again. His hand reached your breast, and started kneading the soft flesh. You moaned loudly, loving the sensations he was giving you. He started grinding his leg into your clothed core, causing to whimper. He moved his hand from your breast, and trailed it down to your pants. He unbuttoned them fast, and with a swift tug he pulled both your pants and panties off. His hand immediately found your core, and without a warning he pushed a finger inside of you. You moaned loudly at the intrusion, and ground against his finger, begging for more friction. He chuckled lowly, and kissed you hard. You immediately responded, loving his mouth against yours. He added another finger in your pussy, working and stretching you open. When he felt you were ready enough, he retracted his fingers, leaving you whimpering at the loss.

 He snapped his fingers, and his clothes disappeared. You took a moment to stare at his naked form. He was absolutely gorgeous. He noticed you staring, and smirked. He let go of your wrist, which was slightly sore, but you couldn’t care less at this point. “Jump.” He said, his voice deep from lust. You instantly jumped up and wrapped your legs around him, his cock against your core. He pushed your back against the wall, and positioned his dick at your entrance. He looked up at you, silently asking for permission. You nodded quickly, and he quickly entered. You gasped loudly, and let your back arch off the wall. Peter wasted no time slamming into at a relentless pace. Your hands flew to his head, your hands tangling into his gorgeous dirty blonde hair. “F-fuck, Peter! D-don’t stop!” you moaned out. He went even faster at your words, his pace relentless. You felt your climax quickly approaching, the sensations becoming too much. You felt Peter reach a hand between the two of you, his finger putting pressure on your clit. “G-god, (Y/N), you feel so good. Come for me!” he commanded, his voice cracking from lust. You screamed loudly, your orgasm washing over you in waves. Peter followed not long after you, a low groan of your name escaping his lips.

 You stood there, legs still tightly wrapped around Peter’s waist, trying desperately to catch your breath. Peter leans up and plants a swift kiss on your lips before carrying you over to the bed and laying you down. Your eyes dropped slightly, exhausted from the previous events. You felt Peter climb next to you and lay down. He wrapped an arm around your middle, pulling you closer. He placed a swift kiss to your temple. You smile, and hum in content, sleep washing you “I love you, my little Lost Girl.” You hear Peter whisper lowly. “I love you too, Peter Pan.” You say, as sleep finally claims you, letting you dream in the arms of the one you love most.

The (un)official reason Remus and Tonks called their kid Teddy: He was named after Tonks’s father, Ted.

The real reason why they called him Teddy: Tonks would be damned if she let her kid have another ridiculously long name, and Remus would be damned if he let his kid have another damn wolf-based name.

And that’s how the streak of ridiculous/ironic names in the Tonks and Lupin families was stopped before it could spread across three generations.

Fallout Pt. 18 | Jungkook Apocalyptic!AU

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

Masterlist | Fallout Masterpost + Trailer

Genre: Post-Apocalyptic AU | Angst | Slightest smut (more like nudity?)

Word count: 15k

Synopsis: After the bombs fell, there was nothing on the world besides grey; grey skies, grey pastures, and grey people. The world had been devastated, and the sole motor of your every action was pure instinct because, deep inside, you only wished you had died with the majority of human kind.

N/A: If this sucks, I am sorry. There might be some mistakes because it was so damn long. Also, Danbi as a name means sweet rain. Also, this proves I am obsessed. (SPOILER?)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of rape/abuse, blood, violence, gore, zombies, sexual contents/references.

Originally posted by ostrichyung

Pain is fleeting.

When it only affects the flesh, pain it’s ephemeral. It’s nothing more than a physical reaction to a noxious stimulation so, once the disturbing sensation is quelled, and the injury mended, the sensation is also forgotten. It is a very vague concept when it is not felt, a constant fear lying in wait in the depths of our minds, and it doesn’t become real until the very moment skin breaks, blood streams in haphazard filigrees and bones break accompanied by violent cracks and muffled screams of agony.

However, when that dim emotion becomes ceaseless, when you conclude its harrying will have no end, pain immediately loses its influence and even the strongest minds surrender to its inevitability. At some point, although your skin breaks or blood escapes your body, you welcome every blow as an old friend and you accept that feeling as an intrinsic part of yourself that will never abandon you.

Keep reading


  • The first night after they find Annabeth Thalia starts having an early midlife crisis while Annabeth’s sleeping.  “LUKE I’M A CHILD I’M NOT READY TO BE A MOM” “Thalia relax she’s just-” Thalia interrupts him to moan “I’VE PEAKED SO YOUNG” Luke rolls his eyes.  How did he end up with two problem children at the age of fourteen.  Poor Luke.

  • Annabeth overhears Thalia cursing and starts to use those words herself because HEY new words to learn!!  So Thalia’s like “yo that’s hilarious here’s some more” and actively starts teaching her all these four letter words until Luke flips a shit. “THALIA SHE’S SEVEN YEARS OLD” “Bro she knifed a monster the other day I think she can handle it” Luke has no choice but to sigh.
  • One of them casually calls Annabeth “Annie” once because damn that’s a long friggin name and Annabeth goes completely silent.  And Luke’s like “What’s wrong Annie?” and she just. flips her shit. And it takes an hour to calm her down, and once they finally do she covers her face and mumbles “My stepmom calls me Annie” and they vow to never ever call her that again.
  • For Thalia’s early birthday the three of them somehow manage to get to a few shows at Warped Tour.  But obvs that’s like super public, so monsters smell them and show up.  The three of them have an epic monster battle in the middle of the crowd, but the mortals don’t even fucking notice because hey, weird stuff happens all the time at Warped.  Luke’s pissed at himself for ruining Thalia’s birthday.  Meanwhile Thalia gets to have a battle montage with Green Day playing live in the background.  Its the best birthday of her life.
  • The three of them have a secret handshake and it’s adorable
  • Thalia and Luke are each other’s first kiss because “hey, we don’t really get a normal childhood, let’s just get this milestone over with and see what all the fuss is about, it totally won’t be weird”.  But it is.  It’s so weird.  They can’t look at each other for days without blushing.
you’re my everything (3)

jeon jungkook x reader, mafia!au

prologue / part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

warnings: bad language

length: 1.8k words

a/n - for anyone wondering, admin sleepykookie still wrote this but that name is too damn long holy crap, so now i’m admin blue, enjoy reading~x

~admin blue

 Above all, Jungkook confused you.

 He was almost always distant, and cold like ice, yet his gaze was red hot, burning your exposed skin like an inferno. He could be cruel, intimidating, constantly arrogant, but his caring actions were rarely well concealed enough to escape your notice. He would leave you for an agonizing twenty four hours without any explanation, only to return with a bag of stuff you needed.

 Not that he wanted for you to rely on him for much. You had your own stuff now, you knew where everything was, and did not particularly care to know where he spent his days and nights. It would almost be easy to forget how things were, at least, it might have been, if he hadn’t constantly shown up uninvited to the forefront of your mind.

 You were on your way back to your-his-room from the kitchen that day, hand slipping around the wooden doorknob to let yourself in. You almost squealed in surprise when you saw him, ignoring your feelings and silently narrating new ones.

 Jungkook was stood lounging against his favorite display, smirking as you dropped what you had been carrying. He pushed himself off the wall and strolled towards you, running his fingertips along your cheek.

 “Did my kitten miss me?” His words were dripping with possessiveness, and you couldn’t help but to notice the emphasis on my. Forcing yourself to flinch at the pet name, you met his dark eyes, frowning.

 “Did something happen?” You squinted, noticing the pink scar now decorating his cheek, seeming fairly new and fresh. He ignored you, tracing the goosebumps on your bare shoulders and biting his lip slightly.

 “You’re cold. You know, (y/n), you should wear more clothes.” You felt a crimson blush seep over your face as his eyes traveled down, not that he noticed. His gaze eventually settled on the lacy neckline of your dress, darkening further as he explored it with interest. “Never mind.”

 You frowned, yanking the material up and sticking out your chin defiantly, wordlessly daring him to meet your eyes. His gaze lazily wondered back to yours, overpowering you easily. You noticed the glimmer of grim worry tinting the mocking glow of his brown eyes, warning you. As a not so distant clatter brought your eyes from his, he murmured softly, “They’re mad.”

 He slid his leather jacket off and wrapped it carefully around your shoulders, placing a hand on the small of your back and gently leading you out of the room, just as another boy appeared in the hall. His dyed orange hair fell messily over his forehead as he regarded the two of you with contempt. You felt Jungkook grip the fabric of your dress as the stranger’s eyes ran over you, his jaw clenching tightly. The stranger, who seemed a little older, laughed without humor.

 “Jeon, Boss wants to see you and your pet.”

 Jungkook returned the dry chuckle, “Bet he does.” Feeling the uncomfortable stiffening of your spine against his hand, he sighed slightly, frowning at the other boy. “She doesn’t like it when you call her that.”

 You were taken aback as he marched you away, down some complex maze of corridors and double doors. He silenced the questions on your lips by interrupting your thought process, murmuring something to himself that you heard as well.

 “-but she doesn’t mind being my kitten.” Your cheeks flamed, as you promised yourself that he was lying. How could you ever feel anything but repulsion at the words of such a man?

 You immediately noticed the smirk he wore flatten a little, the edge of panic staining his carefully guarded eyes. The slight stiffening of his body should have warned you, as he stepped forward to knock on a dark brown wooden door.

 A male voice answered, “Come in,” and Jungkook pushed open the door, leading you to stand before a large mahogany desk.

 An unfamiliar man was sat behind the desk, with his fingertips pressed to his temples, as if he had a terrible headache. His eyes were shut, partially hidden by his shock of blonde hair. Finally, he spoke, opening his lids to lock eyes with the boy whose hand was resting possessively on your hip.


 “Namjoon.” The man you took to be Namjoon seemed to be considering smiling, before he instead offered a steely glare.

 “Sit down.” You both complied, Jungkook’s hand now resting on your knee. “So,” he began, almost bored, “Who is this? Enlighten me.”

 “She’s the girl.”

 “I know she’s the fucking girl, don’t try to be smart, Jeon. What the fuck are you doing with their long fucking lost baby sister?”

 He snorted, “It was the plan to use her later anyway, right? I just got there before anyone else had the chance to trade her for-”

 “Let me rephrase the question for you. Why the fuck is she your whore?

 You were shocked, and by the way his nails dug into your thigh, you guessed Jungkook wasn’t best pleased either. He spoke through gritted teeth. “She’s not my whore.” Namjoon waved his words away.

 “Your pet, then, whatever. Do we remember what happens to fools who get too attached to their pets?” By his subtle flinch, you guessed he did.  Namjoon sighed, speaking still to Jungkook, but turning his furious gaze to you. “If she wasn’t worth all of our asses in their eyes, she would be dead. And the minute she’s not useful, if there’s a complication, or she fucks up or some shit, I will not hesitate to put a bullet through her head.”

 You were horrified, frozen as the conversation ended and Jungkook pulled you up, dragging him from the room after him. Once the heavy doors swung shut, you felt your legs give way and your breathing come dangerously quick, nodding and shaking your head, possibly completely inappropriately, at Jungkook’s questioning, as you couldn’t clearly hear him over the rushing of blood in your ears, the deafening, erratic beats of your heart. You dimly remembered him carrying you back to his room, and you thought that you vaguely recalled him talking more to you, but you couldn’t be sure.

 Eventually, he was gone and you lay motionless, waiting for sleep to find you, longing for it’s utopia of oblivion.

 That was the night that the nightmares began.

 You woke up unfailingly, time after time, in a cold sweat, heart racing and flesh crawling. No amount of logic could calm your shaking limbs, and consciousness failed to bring your respite. The nightmare changed a little each time, ingrained itself slightly further into your memory with each regeneration. Sleep deprivation made you fearful and miserable, purple bruises began to decorate the area under your eyes.

 You wanted to blame him for the nightmares, but you found it impossible. Trying to hate him seemed to you like jumping from a height and expecting to fly. In fact, you caught yourself wishing to be near him, to feel the steady beating of his heart, for him to whisper again to you that everything was okay, but he was never in. A strange longing lingered over you, but you were unfailingly too preoccupied with your dream to particularly care about much else.

 That night, you had tossed and turned for hours, reluctant to give in to the achingly heavy tug of your eyelids, knowing full well what waited behind them. Eventually, your exhaustion won and you were pulled  back into the same, yet evolved, nightmare.

 You were probably whimpering or twitching in your sleep when you felt a gentle shaking of your shoulder drag you back to consciousness. Somebody was calling your name, softly, with concern. Your eyes flew open, breathing coming quick and shallow, unable to control the shaking of your limbs.

 He knelt beside you on the bed, in a plain t shirt,with messy hair and sleepy eyes. He gently brushed the hair away from your clammy forehead, frowning down at you. “(y/n), what happened?”

 You turned your face away, not wanting him to see the tears that were stinging your eyes, threatening to spill, but of course he did, sighing as he reached under the sheets and brought you to his chest, cradling you and murmuring sweet nothings into your hair, his strong arms holding you together. Letting go of all reservations, you clung to him, burying your face in the cotton of his t shirt , and allowed yourself to just sit and cry for the first time, tangling your fingers in his shirt and letting his thumbs draw soothing circles on your exposed arms.

 His voice was gentle, but firm. “You’ve been getting nightmares every night.”

 You nodded mutely.

 You felt his arms grip you tighter. “Since when?”

 “Since-” you flinched, “-we saw-” You trailed off, but he seemed to understand. He sounded quietly furious,but he brought a hand up to stroke your hair.

 “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

 You tried weakly to suppress a yawn, “I couldn’t find you.”

 He sighed. You felt your lids trying to close, forcing yourself to focus on his steady heartbeat and stay awake, but you felt unconsciousness start to drag you down into it’s recently unwelcoming realms.

 Jungkook noticed your exhaustion, starting to pry your hands from his shirt and lay you gently down. You groaned, already half asleep, but conscious enough to force one eye open to look pleadingly at him. “Will you sleep with me tonight?”

 He sighed again, but you felt his knee gently nudge your stomach as he mumbled, “move over.” You rolled over, feeling his warmth as he slid under the covers behind you, cautiously wrapping his arms around you and fitting your bodies together. You relaxed into his embrace, feeling it tighten around you as he locked his thighs around your hips, his head finding the crook of your neck. You wished you had caught whatever he murmured into the soft skin, but you were already too far gone.

 Unsurprisingly, you weren’t bothered by the nightmare again that night.

 It became a kind of routine - you would wait up for Jungkook to come back, often so late it was technically considered early, and he would slip under the sheets, cradling you until a dreamless sleep found you, as it always inevitably did. Sometimes he was mad, frustrated, and wouldn’t hold you, but you were fine with locking him your own embrace, resting your head on his chest and feeling the familiar thudding of his heart. He’d gone out of his way for you not to depend on him, but, more than you’d care to admit, needed him now. Too much to be healthy. Not just for sleep, but for happiness, sanity. You were grateful for him spending his nights with you, but one thing disappointed you. Bitterly.

 He was always gone by the morning.

my god this fic is killing me what am i doing, i hope you enjoyed this and i s2g i will try to be quicker with the next update im a terrible human, feel free to let me know if you liked this

~admin blue

thinking about Minimus Ambus again!!!!

the thing i was talking about with senatorspade. this thing. the more emotional/demonstrative Magnus feeling to me like Minimus sorta acting more like himself and less like a functional Magnus persona. i remembered my favorite example of that!!

that!!! the thing Thunderclash commends him on is about typefaces and that is not a “Magnus” thing, that is picky and slightly obsessive and the sort of thing that Tyrest admonishes him for not being able to compartmentalize away (which is !!!!!! even by itself because him getting recognition for that makes me so proud!) and the response is a HUG. Ultra Magnus is not exactly a huggy person but Minimus in the Remain in Light arc keeps touching other people. and i mean initiating casual physical contact with them even when he supposedly just met them and even more once they know who he is

yes green stranger you may hold my arm while we converse

((oh man his hands are smaller than Rung’s i didn’t even notice that))

((not sure if this counts, including it anyway))

aaaaaand hands back on Rodimus

((this is my favorite panel it’s great for reference and also really cute))

even the other bots on the Lost Light aren’t this physically interactive with each other (nonviolently i mean) and they actually know each other? are presumably friends and/or friendly? imagine if Magnus did this sort of thing

there isn’t a point to this i just noticed while i was collecting references last night anddddddd haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. i’m probably gonna go catalog nonviolent physical interactions between members of the Lost Light crew now ((because it’s not like i have anything else to do orz))


Today was a holiday (Republic Day) here in Portugal, so I spent it working on my notes for History of Maritime and Colonial Empires - long name, I know, classes are pretty damn long too 😂.

This is my first post in the Focus Challenge by @study-sleep

Duration: 12:00 - 22:30 (I did a lot of tiny sessions throughout the day, couldn’t do it all in one big chunk)
Concentration: 9/10
Energy: 7 or 8/10 
Mood: 8 or 9/10

(these last three weren’t constant)