dawn grey

canadian-riddler  asked:

Look man, every time I see that gifset it's the same thoughts. He loves that crowbar. He wants to frame it. Look on it at night. Think to himself: "This was the tool I used to begin my transformation." He looks at it with such reverence, marvelling at the fact that something so simple was used to do something so complex. That crowbar was his first true love.

I see you have little regard for Miss Kringle (I agree). Ed has a fairly large bed. I would like to move that the crowbar occupied the right side of his bed and had it’s own pillow following the events of Mad Grey Dawn. The crowbar needed a good night’s sleep and Ed wanted it to be comfortable, it deserved it after all that hard work.

Because I love those hours before the sun comes up, when you wake up for a moment and you realize you can stay in bed just a little while longer. And you’re safe. And there’s no rush. And it’s quiet. For all my hub loves. xo Pre-pancakes, so it’s v smutty. Don’t get me wrong, it’s highly emotional and descriptive, but it’s still porn. To experience the full mood of this thing, I’d recommend listening to Max Richter’s “Three Worlds” as you read.  @captainwiley @dassala @the-reason-to-sail-home @thejollypirate @businesscasualprincess @shoedonym @katie-dub @abbadons-little-witch @swanandapirate @mahstatins

+ It’s dark when she opens her eyes. Not the dark of late evening, when the stars have begun to twinkle in the sky—when the only sound to be heard is the choral chirping of insects, the darkening of doorways. No, it’s a darkness that knows it will have to fade eventually, a grey dawn that casts their bedroom in a hazy, dreamlike glow.

A nippy, quiet breeze smelling suspiciously of rain tiptoes through the open window and she catches the scent of him on the air. It’s a spicy mixture of cologne and sweat, a warm, enticing blend that clashes wonderfully with the fresh, tingling wetness of an impending storm. She can feel his rough, weathered fingers against the bare flesh of her waist. The tap, tap, tapping of his thumb against her belly. The smooth, hard metal of his ring against her stomach not unlike the steady ringing of a church bell, a far off song, a call to his side.

Keep reading

  • Jeffrey Dean Morgan: can you describe the character for me
  • Casting Director: they're a... cutthroat, merciless, aggressive antagonist
  • Jeffrey Dean Morgan: you had me at throat-cutting
  • Casting Director:
  • Jeffrey Dean Morgan: (pulls weapons from various parts of his outfit)
  • Casting Director:
  • Casting Director: NO WAIT
  • Casting Director: THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT. PUT THAT DOWN.
Binary Star (III)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jaebum / Mark

Rating: PG

Word Count: 3,935

Summary: In some cases, these close binary systems can exchange mass, which may bring their evolution to stages that single stars cannot attain.”

You and Jaebum have been dating forever when Mark Tuan shows up in your classroom. You’ve always been against change - a bit debilitating, being a writer - but for some reason this new kid has you thinking there might be an upside to chaos.

Keep reading

Zootopia Characters as Zodiacal Signs

Judy Hopps : Aquarius

Nick Wilde : Sagittarius

Gideon Grey : Aries

Finnick : Gemini

Mr.Big : Scorpio

Dawn Bellwether : Virgo

Gazelle : Taurus

Manchas : Capricorn

Mr.Otterton : Cancer

Bogo : Libra

Lionheart : Leo

Flash : Pisces

ddagent  asked:

BERENA No. 6 “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Bernie could just make out Serena’s sleepy frown in the grey pre-dawn light. “You’ve never minded before.”

The frown deepened. “I thought you were going back to yours after your shift.”

“Surprise?” Bernie reached a hand out, frowning herself as Serena shuffled out of reach.

“Let me guess. You still haven’t done the washing and your bed isn’t made, so you thought it would be easier to come climb in mine.” Even at four in the morning, Serena was able to manage that devastatingly dry tone that made F1’s squirm. Impressive, really.

Busted. Bernie peered at Serena through her fringe. “Your bed does have some excellent perks over mine.”

“Such as?”

“Your sheets are much nicer than mine.” Bernie scooted forward, hand sliding to the dip of Serena’s waist. “And you make an excellent bed warmer.”

Serena relented with a roll of the eyes and a huff, turning back to her side of the bed. Pressing herself close to Serena’s sleep warm back, Bernie hummed in contentment, eyes heavy as she nuzzled against the nape of Serena’s neck.

“Don’t think you’re getting breakfast out of this.”

Bernie smiled, drifting to sleep.

Don’t Mimic Me | Prologue

Avengers x Villain!Reader

part one

Summary: After what appeared to be a failed experiment, you stay low and compliant. You’ve always done what you were told; it’s what kept you alive all these years. That is, until you get caught and your secret is revealed.

WC: 1,186

Warnings: Light mention of physical and maybe verbal abuse?

Notes: For the birthday girl, AJ (@mattymattymerduck). I know you enjoy villain!reader, so here this is :D I’ve had this idea for a while, but wasn’t sure how to go about with it. Until now. Enjoy ~


Useless. Absolutely, unforgivingly useless. That’s all you are, and ever will be. You were born a mistake; proof being that your own mother traded you in for cash, once she deemed you were old enough. Could you really blame her though? Your father fell off the face of the planet one day, and was never heard from again. But he was seen again, on the news actually. Living the life as a politician now, somewhere in New York. Watching him appear on the television, making speeches about equality and creating a better world… You were his only child, and all she ever saw in you was the reminder of the man who walked out on her. A splitting image of him.
She just never realized that she wasn’t the only one he abandoned.

You always did your best to do things right. God knew that you’ve made your fair share of mistakes over the years, but never on purpose. The good grades, finished chores, and obedient nod were never enough. There was always a grade not high enough, a chore done too slow and a right response given at the wrong time.


On the weekend of your birthday, a man showed up at your door. According to your mother, he was a distant relative. When you spotted the duffel bag on the table, you knew it wasn’t packed with your things. For the past month, you heard the phone calls in the late night. Something something, useless… Mumble mumble, exchange.. Whisper whisper…. Deal. What confirmed your suspicions was when your mother suddenly showed an interest in your well being. She began checking your body for any disfigurations, or markings. She would ask how you were feeling, touching your forehead to check for a fever, looking for any kind of change in you. It was a cruel joke to you, making you believe that she might actually be turning a new leaf.

She grabbed the duffel bag, unzipped it and nodded with contentment at the sight of bundled cash. You turned towards the so-called relative, and he held out his hand. You glanced back to your mother, but she was already turning away with the duffel bag in hand. It stung watching her walk away, not even hesitantly turning around for one more look. After years of getting that cold shoulder from her, you’d think that you would’ve been used to it.

The man took your hand and led you outside, where you were greeted by a small black, two seater car with windows deeply tinted. Huh. Usually there’s a fine for people who get window tints too dark. He opened the door for you, and without hesitation you got in. You watched as he strolled around the front of the car and into the driver’s seat. He started the car, and took off. The sight of what used to be home shrunk in the wing mirror until it was out of view.

You leaned your head against the chilled window. “What about my things” you spoke out, watching the fog from your breath slowly disappear from the glass. The tone in your voice wasn’t demanding or curious. It was more of an attempt to rid the silence.
“You won’t need them.” He kept his left hand steady on the wheel, as his right traveled slowly towards you. Before he could make another move, you quickly grabbed ahold of his last three fingers, fiercely pulling them backwards. Within a split second, you flew forward and hit the dashboard hard, releasing the grip you held on his digits. You let out a pained groan as you pushed yourself back into the seat.

“I wasn’t going to touch you” he spoke nonchalantly, “I was going to close your air vents.” The car started forward again, the momentum pushing you into your seat as you put your seatbelt on this time. You shifted your position as the car filled with silence once again.

“It would be wise to ask all the questions you have now” he announces, “when we get to our destination, you won’t be able to talk. Not much, at least.”

You sighed, “alrighty then, I guess we can start with the basics.” He raised his index finger, “No personal questions.”

“Just the basics remember? Like…. are you really family? What’s with the slight accent? And what’s your name? Or can I call you mysterious Uncle baldy?” you smirked, appreciating your little joke. He made a sharp right turn making you hit your head on the window. Karma is always close behind. “First off,” he began, “I am not bald. I keep it short, less hassle. My name is not important right now, but Baron will do.” You rubbed the side of your head, already feeling a small bump forming. “And family wise?” you looked towards him. He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. “Your father, you remember him, yes?” he noticed your jaw clenched and smirked.
“Well, he is my brother, actually.”

Flashbacks of your father’s face appearing on the television filled your mind. He didn’t change much, from what you remember him as a child. He looked exactly the same, but aged. His hair dawning strands of grey and white hairs, wrinkles becoming deeper. Even his voice sounded the same.

“He never said he had any siblings. Not to mention, any kind of accent” you scoffed, crossing your arms.

“We are half brothers. He grew up in the states, while I, Germany.” His tone faltered. You guessed it wasn’t a happy relationship between then, if there was any. “Why did you grow up in Ger-” he raised his hand up, stopping you from finishing your sentence. “I said, no personal questions.” Without thinking, you gently swatted his hand out of your way not even thinking of the possible consequences. Rather than giving you a slap to the face, he chuckled and shook his head. “You remind me of myself. Always acting without thinking” he stated, “it’ll get you in trouble one day.”

You huffed in your seat, rolling your eyes. There was nothing you wanted to say to that, especially since you know it was true. Of course you were a very obedient child, always doing what you were told but that was to avoid a beating. The lashings were a hell of a way to discipline you. But the moment you left that house, you left the memories behind as well. Even if you weren’t free person, you were at least free to be yourself. And who you really were, has yet to be revealed. Years of bottling incompatible emotions don’t always pour out smoothly.

“Can I at least know where we’re going? You’ve been driving for like two hours now” you exaggerated. He let out a slightly annoyed sigh before answering, “It’s only been one hour, and we are going to Sokovia.” You shot him a questioning glance, only to be met with his hand raised again. “No more questions. Take a nap or stare out the window, do something quiet until we reach the airport. We have a long way to go.”

“Fine.”


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