distinctive 'look and feel'

Nina Simone for #BlackHistoryMonth


Request: “Could you do a Alec imagine of being Izzy’s parabati and best friend since childhood and Izzy talks you into going on a double date with her and Simon and Raphael because she knows both you and Alec need a push to make a move and she knows Alec knows Raphael has a thing for you which will make him extra jealous?? And you can’t deny you didn’t have a good time because Raphael is nice once you get past his layers of undead doucheness and you both were sarcastic snarky brats the whole date??”

This has been sitting in my drafts for ages so I decided to finally post it.


Word Count: 1384

Clothes, shoes and a range of other items Izzy deemed ‘necessities’ lay scattered across the entirety of my bedroom floor like that first, crisp layer of freshly fallen snow, or perhaps a more accurate description would be that it looked as though the heavens had unleashed an almighty roar and sent waves of snow cascading down in an avalanche.  In reality, Izzy had come barrelling into my room, her arms laden down with a rainbow of fabrics and all sorts of beautifying concoctions that I couldn’t even name.  Somehow or other, I had allowed myself to be convinced into going on a date with Raphael.

I knew I shouldn’t have let Izzy talk me into it.  It was a crazy idea from the start, and I had somehow, foolishly let her convince me that I was doing this to help her out, and that things weren’t the other way round.  It was just so hard to argue with her perfect,well formed, valid arguments.  I mean, really, what reason was there for me not to go?  Apart from the obvious one which was that it would be a date with a vampire, but Izzy had managed to counter that argument faster than those superhuman bloodsuckers could run.  The one and only good reason I had for not going, was that I liked Alec.  I really liked Alec if I was being honest with myself… but Izzy didn’t know that.  Or at least I sincerely hoped that she didn’t.

Sneaking out of the institute was going to be near impossible.  Sneaking out of the institute without our absence going unnoticed was going to require divine intervention.  I didn’t know how Izzy managed it on a regular basis, especially with those terrifying high heels she always wore. Izzy had insisted that I wear something she picked out, and Izzy could be pretty stubborn when she wanted to be.  I supposed it was a Lightwood trait, it was definitely a huge contributor to all of the arguments she had with her brothers.  Her brothers.  If Alec caught us out here he would definitely kill us, if I didn’t die of embarrassment first.  Perhaps I would just sink down through the ground once and for all into my own grave.

Somehow, we made it out.  That wasn’t to say that we would make it back in, because I certainly wasn’t sure about that, but I was sure that Izzy would be able to sweet talk her way out of almost anything.  Or sweet talk somebody else into almost anything.  Like how she sweet talked me, into going on a date, with a vampire, with Raphael.

To be fair to Raphael, he wasn’t an awful date.  Sure, he could be snarky and sarcastic as hell, and had had a good few lifetimes to perfect the art of the perfect comeback, but that didn’t mean he was worse than me.  One of the good things about this constant bickering was that I think it made Izzy regret her decision to invite me along just a little bit.  I caught her rolling her eyes at Simon more than a couple of times throughout our meal at Takis Diner.  Especially when we first walked in.  
“Well hello there darling.”  Raphael had practically purred, his eyes crinkling with mirth as his lips tugged to the side in a smirk in reaction to the glare I shot his way.  
“Hi.”  I replied, stiff as a robot.  Simon stifled a laugh as he reached out to embrace Izzy in a warm hug.  
Raphael offered me a pout, his arms outstretched.  “Hey!  Where’s my hug?”  
“Same place as that Shax demon I banished yesterday, would you like to join it?”   
“I’m beginning to think that might be a better idea than this date.”  
“Good, then we’re on the same page.”
“Can’t you two be nice to each other for one night?”  Izzy interjected with a frown and a sharp glare. 

As it turned out, the answer was no.  Whilst we weren’t being serious, or at least not entirely with our insults and snippy snide comments, they did carry on for the rest of the night.  They continued through the meal itself, while I watched, with morbid fascination as Raphael and Simon both drank glasses of blood.  “Something the matter dear?”
“Just wondering how that stuff can possibly be appealing to you.”  I frowned, glancing at the deep red liquid.  
“Don’t worry darling, I’d much rather be drinking your blood.”  This was said with a deep breath in, which got him exactly the reaction he had desired.  With my fists clenching around my cutlery I managed to snap back with sickly sweetness.  “Well don’t you worry either sweetheart, I’d much rather be spilling your blood.  Guess we can’t all have what we want.”  
“I have to agree, I certainly don’t think I’ll be getting any -”
“Hm-hmm.”  Simon cleared his throat with a meaningful glance towards Raphael who sighed, leaning back with his drink in hand and a roll of his eyes. 
The bickering also continued along the walk home, although I did notice that as the night wore on, and we spoke more, chatted more, I began to like him more.  Not like like him, I was still head over heels for Alec, but I couldn’t deny that Raphael could be a nice guy.  When he wanted to be.  Or maybe it was just that I had wanted to see it before, or hadn’t looked close enough, hadn’t read between his sarcastic lines.  Either way, for somebody who was dead, he certainly managed to make me feel alive.  He managed to make me laugh and smile, and warm up to him little by little, right up until the moment Alec met us at the institute gates with a scowl to rival them all.  

Simon and Raphael got the message straight away, and scurried off into the night, leaving Izzy and I to approach a gently fuming Alec with dread curling in the pits of our stomachs.  “Heey.”  I greeted as I swung open the gate.  “Fancy seeing you here!” 
“Fancy not seeing you two here!  For the last 2 hours!  Where the hell have you been?  And why were you with that bloodsucker?!”  I took note of how when Alec said that, how he didn’t use the plural.  He was referring to Raphael, and Raphael alone.  
“We were on a date.”  Said Izzy with care.  
“A date?!”  Alec all but roared.  “With a vampire?!”  He was looking straight at me now, and I got the distinct feeling that I was the person his anger was directed towards.  Or perhaps it wasn’t quite anger.  Was it jealousy I was detecting?  “Do you have any idea-”
“It was my idea.”  Izzy butted in, her tone as pointed as her stiletto heals.  Hurt and a hint of betrayal flashed across Alec’s face.  
“Why?”  To me, he directed his next comment.  “I’m sorry she dragged you into that then, although you seemed to be having a very nice time.”  Was I imagining things?  To me, it sounded like jealousy, for sure.  
“I did have a very nice time, but I can assure you it won’t be happening again.  Raphael is nice, he’s funny, but I don’t see him that way.”  
“Oh.”  He seemed to pause to collect his thoughts.  “Well, that’s, good to know I guess.  But, why did you go on a date with him in the first place if you didn’t think of him that way?  You know he likes you-”
“Wait, what?”  
“And,”  Alec carried on regardless, “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t just ask somebody you do think of that way.”  Alec’s fists were now clenching and un-clenching at his sides as his eyes darted about.  He was thinking about something.  And if I wasn’t mistaken, he was jealous, which meant maybe this would be a good time to finally say what I had been thinking for a while.  
“Maybe I wasn’t sure he thought of me the same way.”
“Yeah, well you’ll never know if you don’t ask.”
“Okay then Alec, will you go out with me?”  For once Alec seemed entirely lost for words.  He nodded, still not uttering a single word, even as his mouth opened and closed while Izzy danced beside me.

Originally posted by wwwechampionship

Roman Reigns Blurb request - The Introduction

Seth and I had been friends for years. He had always talked about Roman but somehow, for as much as we both hung out with our mutual friend, we always seemed to miss each other when we were in the same town or city. So, I was nothing short of shocked when I stepped through the doorway of Seth’s Tampa home and found the man himself sprawled out on the sectional. I swear he took up half of it.

“Is this the infamous Cassie I hear so much about but never see?” His deep voice matched his size and boomed across the room as he stood up with a huge grin on his face.

“One and the same,” Seth grinned back at him.

He strode over to where I was standing in a few short steps and put his hand out, “Hey, I’m Roman, pleasure to finally meet ya.”

I took his hand in mine and looked up at the man towering over me. “Cassandra but everyone calls me Cassie.” I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, “Jesus, how fucking tall are you?”

“Around 6’3”,” he laughed.

His voice was mesmerizing. “I have no idea why I just said that,” my face flushed as I spoke, “clearly you’re aware of your height.”

“When your 6’3” everyone is aware of your height,” his grey eyes held mine.

Keep reading

PRIDE || MAFIA!Seokmin [Chp 3]

BLURB: Sometimes we put on facades to seem stronger than we are, when all we need is someone to tell us they will hold our hand through it all.

GENRE: mafia!au, action, mystery, family, monsta x cameos

WORDS: 3325

PART: 1 | 2 | 3

Your life was a series of fuck-ups and yesterday might very well be one too. After agreeing to “come with him”, whatever that meant, Seokmin let you go back.

“What, no holding me hostage in the big mansion to make sure I won’t rat you guys out?” You were only half-joking.

“Nah,” he’d said, “I trust you.”

Trust. So when you got back to the subway station that night you stayed as mum as possible hoping that Wonho wouldn’t even notice you were there. It wasn’t much of a problem. When you reached, he and a few of the others were knocked out cold, dumb with alcohol they probably stole from another sad store somewhere else. If you’d been here last night you would’ve watched them drink themselves silly from your perch at the top of a subway car and put yourself on guard duty. Without you here Wonho didn’t even bother.

It’s like they’d forgotten all about you. So you hid in your little corner and pretended to disappear.

Keep reading

Fast Firsts and Sloppy Seconds (Part 3)

A Rowaelin/Manorian AU

It’s still 10:23 PM Tuesday, May 23, 2017 (HST), holla!!! This part’s pretty short, because I really struggled with it :( So, part 3.5 will be coming in a day or two, probably, and then I will make an immediate push for part 4 (Becca and Cas please become really annoying and fight me if I don’t) so 3.5 should be done by like Thursday night/Friday morning, and 4 will be ready by Tuesday night/Wednesday morning. Also, if anyone wants to teach me a thing or two about photo editing, I have a pinterest board of 487 pins which is part of why this chapter’s kind of a disaster sshhh that I would love to turn into edits for you guys :) I’m feeling like an instagram or snapchat vibe? Idk, hmu if you know anything on the subject. Lol it’s 4:23 EST and I’m low key deceased but like it’s fine why do I keep doing this to myself so apologies if there are any typos - I tried my best. Tagging @highlady-casandra​ because this is the reason I haven’t edited for you yet and I’m sorry, I love you!!! Also @miladyaelin​ who is asleep, lol - thanks for trying pal :) 3.5 will probably be posted at a more reasonable time so you can actually look at it first before I make a fool of myself post it … but i say that every time so who knows Also tagging @fictionalcharactersaremyreality​, @rowanismybae​, @the-north-star​, @throneofstars​, @fortunatelycleverpaper​, @snaps7​, @thegirlwith-that-smile​, the anon who sent me that ask earlier today, and so so so many more, thank you for caring about my story and wanting more of it, I love you guys! HUGE thank you to everyone for the kind words and reblogs and notes, I appreciate every single one <3  

Happy reading!

Part 1  Part 2      Part 3.5

The second Dorian saw that look in Aelin’s eyes, he knew the dance was over. He easily stepped out of the way, a small smirk on his lips as he glanced behind him, catching the slightly scared and entirely determined look in the barkeep’s eyes as Aelin stepped directly into his arms.

The barkeep almost immediately stepped back, attempting to keep Aelin at a comfortable arm’s length away. Dorian couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness, as though Aelin would actually let him keep her at a distance. In any case, he didn’t really have time to spend watching the soon-to-be happy couple. His eyes quickly scanned the pub, once again falling onto Manon. He took in the satisfied smirk on her lips as she watched Aelin dance with Rowan. If you could call it dancing, that is. Rowan was awkwardly waddling from side to side, stiff as a board, as Aelin moved around him like a force of nature – absolutely breathtaking.

She was the one he’d dragged to ballroom dance lessons when his mother had forced him into them the summer after his freshman year of college. He didn’t need to be stuck partnered with any of the other pretentious bitches at the country club. And as much as Aelin pretended to complain, he knew she enjoyed it. No one could make Aelin do anything she didn’t want to do.

Their dancing had been comfortable, as it always was, as they learned to be. But this, this was a tragedy. However, even in the face of tragedy, Aelin looked like a princess.

And while he was the one dancing, Dorian was damn sure he looked like a prince. He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he thought about Manon angrily glaring at Aelin while they fell back into old patterns, easily moving around the floor. He definitely hadn’t quite gained the upper hand, but he felt like he was at least just below a tie at that point. After looking Manon over once again, he decided it was time for another drink. Another incredibly muscled, incredibly tall man appeared to have taken over for the white-haired barkeep. What were they putting in the water here? He had dark shoulder-length hair, a nose that looked like it had definitely been broken at least a few times, and overall looked generally pissed off at the world.

However, Dorian was absolutely determined to get more Guinness. The pub had emptied out significantly since they arrived, as the night carried on well into the next morning. He grabbed a seat at the bar, and tried his best not to be offended when the bartender grumbled about “typical Americans” after he’d ordered the beer. It took every ounce of determination in his body not to turn around, to look for those heart-stopping golden eyes, but then all attempts proved futile as she settled into the seat beside him.

“Looks like you’ve been replaced, twinkle toes,” she smirked, unable to keep the satisfaction out of her voice. “Jealous?”

He glanced over at her then, eyeing her casually crossed arms, her tired eyes, and her undoubtedly pleased smile. He couldn’t help the small smile that grew on his own face as he looked at what was likely the most earnest side of her he’d seen all night. He guessed she was probably too tired to put on her own mask in that moment.

“Manon,” the bartender grumbled, sliding the pint over to Dorian. “Don’t you have tables to serve?”

“Don’t you have glass to clean, Lorcan? Or better yet, business to mind?” She snapped at him. Her cold glare would have stopped Dorian in his tracks, but the bartender – Lorcan – merely rolled his eyes and walked over to the other end of the bar. He was clearly trying to pretend he was checking on another patron, but it was pretty clear to both Manon and Dorian  that he honestly just didn’t seem to want to deal with her shit.

Dorian cleared his throat, sliding his hands around his beer and taking a sip. Manon’s golden eyes were focused on him as  he forced himself to spit out the words he’d been desperate to ask since he first saw her looking like she was plotting a hundred different ways to kill Aelin. “So, were you? Jealous, that is?” He avoided her eyes, taking one of his hands off of the death grip on his beer to run it through his hair.

“Yeah,” her voice was even, almost aloof. “I was.” His eyes snapped to hers - confusion, and fear, and something more swimming through them, all at once. She rolled her eyes at his response, twirling her braid between her fingers. “Well don’t look too excited,” she scoffed, pulling on the white strands.

“So does that mean you want to dance?” Their eyes met, and for the first time, Dorian didn’t look away. He couldn’t look away, even if he tried. There was something there, tying him to her. Paralyzing him.

Her low laugh cut through him, inflating his lungs, and finally letting him breathe. She reached for his beer, taking her own sip before offering him a small smile. Her golden eyes had become molten, a warm amber. “Well played, princeling. Well played.”

“Come on,” he goaded, lightly bumping her shoulder with his. “You can’t be nearly as bad as that guy!” He gestured towards Rowan with his chin, and Manon laughed even harder then, an honest laugh, as she watched Rowan awkwardly fumble next to Aelin. “If you think my brother’s bad, you wouldn’t even be able to handle seeing me.”

Brother. He hesitated at the words, then suddenly saw the similarities, glancing back and forth between the apparent siblings. The hair was of course a blatant giveaway. But also, their strong chins, the high cheekbones. Dorian wasn’t sure how he’d missed it before. And then suddenly something in Manon’s face changed.

Confusion, shock, and then – something along the lines of disgust? Dorian followed her gaze to find Aelin and Manon’s brother all but dry-humping as they danced. He let out a sharp laugh at the sight. There was no way to know exactly what Aelin had done, but whatever it was, it worked. Two became one as they fit together perfectly, moving in time to a rhythm Dorian would’ve sworn the hulking bartender had absolutely no sense of rhythm only seconds before. But he supposed Aelin had enough rhythm for both of them, as the white-haired giant helplessly followed along, drowning deeper into Aelin. A smile spread across Dorian’s face as  he watched his friend let herself feel pure joy for the first time in a long time.

He turned back around to find Manon watching him instead, a skeptical eyebrow perfectly raised at his pleased expression. “Shouldn’t you be angry? Off to defend your girl or something?”

Dorian barked out a laugh at the thought, shaking his head at the ridiculousness. “Aelin isn’t anyone’s anything. And the last time she was – well,” he hesitated, “let’s just say it didn’t end well.” The thought of his other best friend brought a tightness in his chest that he would rather have ignored just then, as he brought his beer to his lips once again. He couldn’t exactly say he would have enjoyed being stuck in Dublin with both Aelin and Chaol, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel bad for both of his friends.

When he refocused his attention to Manon, he was surprised to find her still watching the dancing couple. Although – when he looked closer – he got the distinct feeling she wasn’t watching anything. Manon appeared to be lost in a world all of her own, drowning in memories she was either afraid to lose – or desperately wanted to forget.

“Hey,” Dorian prodded, bumping his knee against hers – and leaving it there – terrified of the contact, yet desperate for more. “You okay?”

The second she turned to him, he knew he’d made a mistake. Her mask was back in place just as quickly, as she leaned into him, running a long nail down his chest. Her hot breath sent a chill down his spine as her lips lightly grazed his ear. “Let’s play a game, princeling, and I’ll show you exactly how okay I am.” As she leaned back against the bar, a savage smile graced her lips that should have made him afraid. But instead just made him want her more. Clearly, that was because he was a self-loathing idiot, because there could be no other explanation for his need – his impossible desire.

That, or she was clearly a witch. Seducing him somehow, with her charms. In that moment, he realized that his hand was somehow – suddenly in her hair? He was entirely unsure how it had happened? But somehow, in some way, his hand had ended up pushing one of the white strands behind her ear, as if he had no other option. He simply couldn’t help it – it was instinct, an impulse he couldn’t stop, and didn’t even realize was happening. Like breathing.

“Witchling,” he whispered. His sapphire blue eyes were locked on her golden ones, and in that moment, he could feel it. A part of him shifted and he knew – he knew – that whatever they had, it was precious. His hand had a mind of its own, moving to cup her cheek, and he didn’t think she could help herself either, as she closed her eyes and leaned into him. A hint of a small smile appeared on her lips as her mask began to crack again. They breathed as one. Inhale. Exhale. And then her eyes shot open. A fear was in them – uncertainty – and then an unbreakable hardness. Dorian suppressed a growl – and then let out a gasp.

Suddenly, her lips were against his. Her tongue immediately took advantage of the gasp, moving in, and invading his senses. She was all he could feel, the only thing he ever wanted to touch, as the taste of her burned into his memory. He needed her. All of her. His hands traced her hips, her waist, her breasts, pulling her against him, and onto his lap.

He took control of the kiss, a new savagery taking over him that it  seemed – it seemed she liked, even responded to. She opened herself up to him, fully straddling him as he turned her back towards the bar. A low moan slipped past her lips against his mouth, as his hands climbed up her shirt, tracing slow lazy circles against her soft skin. He was determined to take his time. To claim her. By the end of the night, he was going to have all of her. And she will have been begging for it. He barely pulled away, breathing heavily as their lips lightly brushed against each other. She was entirely still in his arms, waiting for him. Her golden eyes poured into him as they met his, a shiver running down her spine at the words that left his lips. “I want to taste every inch of you.”

Manon let go of all pretense of reason as her princeling closed his eyes and claimed her mouth once again. She opened for him, melting against him even as a deep chill set deep within her bones.

His fingers slid to her jaw, tipping her face to thoroughly take her mouth, every movement of his jaw a sensuous promise that had her arching into him. Had her meeting him stroke for stroke as he explored and teased until she could hardly think straight.

This wasn’t the plan – he wasn’t supposed to taste this good, this right. He wasn’t supposed to make her feel this way, she wasn’t supposed to feel. She’d had enough feeling for a lifetime. But as every part of her burst with need, with an impossible heat, with an icy thrill, she felt everything. And she just kept falling, deeper and deeper, his touch on her body, his hands everywhere, stroking, tracing. She melted into the hardness of him, aching for all of him, as his dick strained against his jeans, pushing against where she needed him most, but not giving her nearly enough.

And then it just – stopped. And in that moment, Manon was entirely certain she could have murdered Lorcan. “For Christ’s sake, Manon,” he growled, his hand still clinging onto the back of Manon’s shirt where he’d pulled her away. “If you’re gonna fuck ‘im, fuck ‘im somewhere else.” He roughly let her go, walking away again and grumbling to himself once again about chaperoning. Manon cleared here throat as she awkwardly slid out of Dorian’s lap, pushing more pieces of her white hair back as she attempted to collect herself.

Dorian, however, was the calmest he’d been all night. Because finally – finally – he knew exactly what he wanted. And he knew they weren’t done. And he knew he was going to get it. And as Manon struggled to breathe – she knew she had never been more desperate before in her life.

A distraction.

She needed a distraction.

“Darts!” She blurted out, after scanning the room, looking for something – anything – to drag her out of this fiery, hot, hell. She flashed a grin at him, trying her hardest to keep it together. “Fancy a game?”

And as she floundered, and her chest rose and fell, and her face flushed, he smiled. An absolutely, irrevocably, rakish, panty-dropping type of smile. The kind that showed a little too much teeth – and reminded her of what it felt like when they bit her lip. The kind that made her helplessly think about all of the other things she wanted him to do to her with that mouth – those teeth. And at that look in her eyes – that glazed over, lost look – as she bit her lip, and focused on his, he finally let out a calm breath. Because for the first time that night, he was truly in control. And he liked it.

So because he could, his grin turned almost feral, and his voice was a sensual caress, sending chills down her spine. “I could think of a significantly better game to play involving sticking things in a target, and far more interesting things to do with my hands, but your wish is my command, witchling.” His voice was a velvety purr by the end of it, and she was left questioning how in the hell their roles had changed so quickly.

Boys never left her like this. She didn’t allow it. Manon was always in charge, and never got attached. They were two very simple rules. Yet this stupid boy, with his stupidly soft lips, and irritatingly delicious tongue, and new dumb confidence, and infuriating smirk was suddenly causing her to reconsider everything. And she wanted to hate him for it. Except there she was, ready to beg for more. What the actual fuck?

She said absolutely nothing as she spun around, her braid whipping around her shoulders. A large gulp of his beer and a few large steps later, he was right beside her. The burning hand he placed at her lower back only caused her to walk faster. She wanted nothing more than to have that hand in places that ached for his touch. So she sped up instead, desperate to run away – to forget.

Never forget, but never remember.

And then they were there, across the room. She grasped for the mask she needed to pull on to survive as she pulled the darts out of the board. But the action was more or less futile. The game had already begun. And she was losing.

physicsandfandoms asked me to do a bit about my ace couple Bail and Breha headcanons for the Ace Card Day over at acesinspace. I thought about writing some meta, but since this is entirely headcanon anyway, I thought fic would be more fun.

The Princess and the Nerfherder | Bail/Breha, 2513 words, no warnings.

When Bail Antilles was eleven years old, his parents took him into Aldera for the great flower festival. He’d never been to the city before, though he’d heard stories about it, and his cousin Lenal, who was four years older than Bail and had visited the city three whole times, was always bragging about everything he’d seen there.

Bail had expected the city to be beautiful, and it was: all gleaming, soaring white structures and streets strewn with pink and red and white and yellow petals. And there were so many people! But there was one person he would remember more than everything else he saw that day.

Princess Breha was only a girl his age, but she looked like one of the spirits come out to walk among mortals. She was dressed like a flower herself, bright and sun-kissed, and she looked right at him and smiled as her hovercar paraded past.

He didn’t actually talk to her that day. And it would be years before he saw her again. But the memory of the flower goddess stayed in his mind.

Keep reading

Being Asexual But Not Realizing It: Why Ace Awareness And Pride Are So Important

so. since AAW is almost over and i’ve yet to deliver on the one thing i said i was going to contribute although i will deliver. at some point. eventually i’m going to talk about my experience as growing up asexual without realizing it, since i haven’t really talked about that in detail before

now, the most common narrative we see in the asexual community is aces who grew up feeling broken, knowing there was something different about them, and not knowing how to fix it like everyone told them they should. and this is aces of all ages, from young questioning teens to the elderly who learned the word asexual from their grandkids

and this is an important narrative to highlight, because no one should ever have to go through that. and my heart goes out to every ace who has ever felt this way. only, as i’ve become more involved with the ace community and seen this prevailing narrative, i’ve felt a little confused because, in my case, it was the exact /opposite/ problem for me

because i thought i was straight. even though i exhibited behavior that could be read as bi, even though my parents “worried” i was a lesbian for a number of years, i knew i wasn’t gay and i knew i wasn’t bisexual. i don’t know how, but i did. and because i thought straight and gay and bi were the only sexualities that existed, i figured i must be straight. it was never a question as to whether or not i knew i was, i just wasn’t anything else, so i identified as straight by default

and it’s not that i thought i was straight “but not very good at it.” or that i was straight “but something was still missing.” or even that i was straight “but hey shit happens.” no, i thought i was straight, wholly and completely. and so, because i was undoubtedly straight, i assumed that this was what being straight was. i assumed that how /i/ experienced straightness was how everyone else must be experiencing their straightness

so, how it was for me, is that i thought /i/ was “normal” and that it was literally everyone else who had the problem. because i wasn’t actually experiencing straightness, so obviously our feelings weren’t the same, but i thought they must be, and i held myself as the standard, and when other people didn’t exhibit their straightness as i did, i thought there was something wrong with /them/

frankly, i’m a little concerned to know what this says about my ego, although i’m not about to think it’s exactly a bad thing, since it did save me from that existence of feeling broken and lost and self defeating about my sexuality. or maybe it’s just because i’m a naturally reclusive person and i’ve always been a little more mentally-independent

the point i’m trying to make, is that this is not an ace narrative i’ve ever come across before, only i’m certain i can’t be the only person who has experienced this or something similar. which is why i’ve decided to share this story for AAW, in an effort to bring awareness to the multitude of ways people can grow up being asexual and not realizing it

and this is not to say that i didn’t experience isolation or confusion, because i most certainly did feel these things. although this came from a different perspective than those who think of themselves as the ones who are broken. i didn’t think that i should be feeling like everyone else, i thought everyone else should be feeling like me, and so it confused me that i still couldn’t understand them

because i felt i should have. they were straight, just like me, they felt the same things i did, so why couldn’t i understand them? the degree to which this bothered me varied depending. generally i’m not particularly concerned about the affairs of others, so i didn’t spend /a lot/ of time fussing about this. but when my friends dated or when i heard people talk about sex and all it entailed or when we got the abstinence sermons at church, i did feel very alone

because i didn’t /understand/. why was everyone else obsessed with dating and losing their virginity? why was everyone obsessed with sex? why was everyone having so much romantic drama? why were adults constantly trying to instill in us the importance of abstinence? why was it such a big a deal to wait for marriage?

why were people behaving in ways i couldn’t understand? i felt just like them, so why weren’t they making sense? why was it so hard for them to just not care about sex? to just not have sex? to just not date? if it was so much trouble, why not just avoid it? why was that so hard? what made it worth it to these people?

why did adults keeping telling me it was important to wait? i got it, okay, it wasn’t that hard, you just wait. why did they tell me it was important to resist? what was there to resist? why were they making such a big deal out of it? why did other kids complain about this? it wasn’t that hard, just don’t have sex. so why were they obsessed with it anyway?

it frustrated me to no end that i couldn’t understand these people that i should be able to understand. and sometimes it left me feeling very much alone; and normally i didn’t care about being alone, i didn’t care about being the odd one out, i didn’t care about going my own way as usual

but it was a very distinct feeling of being on the outside looking in. or more accurately, that i was inside and everyone else was outside but they all seemed to be having a good time and i didn’t understand why they didn’t just come inside with me because it was perfecty fine in here

but of course, all of this was because i was coming at it from the wrong perspective. i wasn’t experiencing straightness as i thought i was, it was something else entirely. and it was such an incredible relief to learn about asexuality. because finally--finally–i knew what i was feeling, finally everything /made sense/. it was like i’d been stumbling around in semi-darkness, never questioning that maybe things shouldn’t be like that, and then suddenly all the lights were turned on and i understood

and i was able to relax and find comfort in my identity and stop worrying about understanding all those people and all their ridiculous nonsense. because of course i couldn’t understand it, we were feeling different things. they were feeling exactly as they should, it was i who had mislabeled my feelings. and it was such a relief to know that i wasn’t part of that and so i didn’t have to worry about not fitting in with it

i was part of this whole other group of people, and /these/ people acted in ways i could understand. i didn’t have to be confused or frustrated or isolated because they felt how i did and when they said things, i got it. i could understand these people, and that’s part of why it’s so important to me to contribute to this community as best i can, because it makes sense to me, because for the first time in my life i have found people i can understand

you know, one of the most important aspects of mainting mental health is validation, is understanding. it hurts a person emotionally to be alone, to have no one to talk to, no one who can understand you. and this is coming from me, who relishes being alone, who seeks to be alone whenever possible, who finds fulfillment and satisfaction in solitude

because it’s not just about being physically alone, it’s the emotions. it’s a very different feeling of /wanting/ to be alone and then feeling like you’re alone because you can’t connect with the people around you. even now, sometimes, i get a little tired dealing with my offline friends because none of them are ace and they’re all very sexual, and i don’t mind, really, but it gets lonely, and it’s such a respite to be able to come online and talk to and interact with other ace people whenever i want

and that’s why i’ve decided to share this story, because you guys can understand me, and i know there’s probably some other aces out there who had my same circumstances and maybe wondered if they were the only ones. you’re /never/ the only one, there’s billions upon billions of people on this planet, there is garaunteed to be at least one other person who feels the way you do, and if there’s a chance that i’m that person, well, here i am

that’s why i’m always open to talking to ace people, and especially questioning people, because i can /understand/ you, and sometimes that’s what a person needs. and that’s why this blog exists

that’s why it’s so important to raise awareness of asexuality and instill pride in asexual people, so they don’t have to grow up thinking they’re something they’re not, so they can know that there’s a whole community of others out there that can understand them, and so they never have to feel like they’re alone

~Mod Q

anonymous asked:

Omg, that Monster Verse Story was amazing! Can I get more of these three, maybe in the What Even universe? Either ChouichixItachi with Kisame bromance or all three together idk, that was just so fucking beautiful and I need more of it!

“So he likes you.” 

“That’s what Hana said.” Itachi poured another cup of tea. “Hana has never had a reason to lie to me.” 

“Big Red likes you.” 

“Correction. According to Hana, he is in love with me.” Itachi took a sip of his tea. “I feel that distinction is important.” 

“I see.” Kisame looked out over the pond and then back to Itachi. “So.” 


“He hasn’t said anything.” 

“And he won’t.” Itachi said. “He’s an Akimichi.” 

“You say that like I should know what it means, Itachi.” Kisame said. 

“It means that in order to prevent stepping on my progress or impeding my personal happiness he will not take a chance at grasping his own, because he feels the reward my reciprocating his feelings would provide is not equal to my successful reacclimation to the village.” 

Kisame snorted. “So he’s just as much of a self-sacrificing moron as you can be.” 

“In a different manner,” Itachi acknowledged, “yes.” 

“But Hana was the third member of your genin squad, right?” Kisame asked. “So if she says that Big Red is in love with you-” 

“She did inform me that the feelings began in our youth and have remained steady,” Itachi said. 

“Damn.” Kisame said. “That’s one hell of a torch to hold.” 

Itachi put his teacup down. “She alluded to the fact that my leaving resulted in problems.” 

“Is that what we call those, problems?” Kisame asked. “Because off the top of my head I can think of about thirty that the Uchiha Incident caused and I’m not even allowed to read the clan archives yet.” 

“These problems are different than those,” Itachi said. “Chouichi is no longer heir to the Akimichi clan because the Elder Council deemed him mentally unfit in the wake of my abandonment and the clan slaughter.” 

Kisame blinked.

He blinked again. 

“So you left and he lost his goddamn mind?” Kisame asked. 

“Hana described it as an emotional and mental breakdown.” Itachi said. “Apparently, his temper became hair-trigger and eventually enough was considered enough. Chouji was made heir.” 

Itachi continued to gaze at Kisame levelly as he spoke but Kisame had been partnered with Itachi a long time. He could see the churning thoughts beneath the calm carmine surface. 

“You liked him, too.” Kisame said. 

Itachi looked away. “There was,” he admitted, “a level of attraction. I set it aside when I was promoted to Jounin. There was too much to focus on.” 

“You were a kid and so was Red.” Kisame said, putting all the extra pieces together. “You figured you’d never see him again so why bother crying over spilled milk. Only then Sasuke killed Orochimaru and convinced you to come back.” 

“And there he was.” Itachi said softly. “Grinning like I’d been gone an hour instead of years. Calling me Whirligig. This whole time it must have felt like I’d put a knife in his back and twisted it for good measure.” 

“Well the answer seems pretty clear to me.” Kisame said. 

Itachi made a questioning noise. 

“You start over.” 

Itachi’s brows dove like raptors as he gave Kisame his full attention. “Pardon?” 

“You said it yourself, Itachi, it’s been years.” Kisame said. “You’re not the same person you were and neither is he. Hana told you he still has feelings for you. You clearly still have feelings for him. We both know what’s coming in the future. It’s now or never.” 

“It could be a mistake.” Itachi said. 

“Yes, but I know you.” Kisame said. “and I know you hate not knowing. So if it’s a mistake, you’ll figure it out and you’ll move on. If you don’t do anything it leaves  you and Big Red in limbo forever and trust me, that sucks.” 

Itachi made an inquisitive noise and Kisame said, “Oh no. You don’t get that story until you manage to complete at least one date with Chouichi.” 

“We go out to dinner often enough.” Itachi said. 

“Those aren’t dates. That’s a man so happy his friend is back he’s setting everything he feels on the back burner so he can relearn what he lost. Red’s already ahead of you in the game, Itachi. You’ve gotta lap him at least once if you want to win.” 

“Things like this aren’t a matter of winning or losing.” Itachi pointed out.

Kisame grinned. “That depends entirely on how you play the game.” 


Felt pretty androg. today 👌 (she/they)

Chapter 5.2 - Descent

He was glad when he was completely out wretched building. All of the smells and noises bombarded his heightened senses and made him cringe as he walked out onto the crowded street. True, he’d partaken of such debaucherous paradises before. According to his Poet, thousands of times before, but something within him was turned off by even the thought of it now. He mulled over how the dark-eyed prophet had described his change in sexuality and he realized that it was this fundamental difference now that drove his overwhelming disgust.

Taking a deep breath of the outside air, he wished to be back in the less crowded parts of Heaven and when he turned to take his immediate leave, a distinct feeling of being watched washed over him.

Looking out across the street and sea of people, he spied a pair of blue eyes watching him. At first, Quintus looked away quickly as he realized he had forgotten to put replace his facade and they were likely staring at his monstrosity. Bowing his head down below the people around him, he made himself entirely human again and took a few steps out of view before he brought his head back up and found the tall woman still staring directly at him.

Originally posted by tiestoblog

There was something uniquely familiar about her thought she was absolutely unremarkable to him and he found himself staring back at her intently, never breaking the gaze as he rolled his memories back in his mind. He had seen her before. She was wholly indistinguishable in every way, completely generic as far as he would judge a woman. Her face perfectly feminine and delicate, her eyes a dull blue, her skin was completely without flaw or blemish. Her body was too slender, her breasts average and her cheeks gaunt. Her hair was straight long and brown, parted near the middle of her head as it flowed over her shoulders.

The only characteristic that he felt made her stand out at all was the fact that she was quite tall. Even from this distance, that was obvious. Her head was at least a few inches taller than most of those who stood around her. Her erect and entirely motionless stance caught him off guard, it was strange as every other person on the street was animated, either dancing with the music bombarding the area or by stumbling from the intoxication with various drinks. Everyone except the two of them as they eyed each other carefully.

His mind stuttered for a moment. He had actually seen this woman before, hadn’t he? If his memory served him correctly, she had stared at him then too. But many being in Heaven had stared at him in the beginning. But this woman … there was something strange about her and how she looked at him. Then and now. Where had it been exactly? His mind replayed his time in Heaven over and over again and he finally remembered as he stared back to her.

She was in Elysian, standing across the square from his ex-wife’s tea shop. She stared at him when Hathų led him sneakily into that awkwardly planned situation. This woman gave away no emotion then as she refused to do now, only looking at him coldly as his mind itched further with curiosity.

That wasn’t all of it and he realized now, he’d seen her somewhere else as well … hadn’t he? Yes. Focus Quintus. Where was it? Was she following him? He could stand here and they could stare at each other for eternity or … he might as well just ask her, since she was quite keen on him at the moment. As she remained still, he took a step forward stepping onto the street and began to move towards her direction.

“Quintus?” A voice from behind him and his attention immediately diverted to the calm and reserved man who stoically stood next to him. Quintus looked at the purple eyes for a moment before turning his attention back to the other side of the street to find the woman was entirely gone. Looking up and down the block from where she stood, he could not spy her anywhere.

Raphael looked across the way as he followed Quintus’ investigative eyes. “Something wrong?”

“No.” The dhampir shook his head, finally turning to face the archangel with his full attention. “I thought I saw someone.”

There was a strange moment of silence as the archangel stared at the meaningless crowd, seemingly lost in the area on which Quintus had been focused. His brows furrowed every so slightly as he stared with wonder and Quintus spoke up, acknowledging his presence verbally. “Raphael.”

I look at you all see the love there that’s sleeping

While my guitar gently weeps

I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping

Still my guitar gently weeps

I don’t know how nobody told you how to unfold your love

I don’t know how someone controlled you

“I will admit. I actually did not expect to see you here of all places.” Raphael smiled as he waved a hand to the building from which Quintus just exited.

“Ah. Yes. Here. I did not expect to find myself here either.” Quintus looked around, shifting with evolving embarrassment. “I was just here to visit an old friend.”

“You don’t say, huh? An old friend?” Raphael smiled widely, showing his canines as he raised a suggestive eyebrow. Quintus was certain the archangel nearly winked at him also.

He shook his head fiercely. “NO. NO. That is not what I meant.” He reaffirmed his NO as his hand went up to shake in unison with his head and convey the extreme absurdity of that notion. “Absolutely not that. I was here to see … my … mother.” She was not his mother, but he was unsure what title to bestow upon her now. She was never his mother. She had in fact been his keeper. His manipulator.

“What?” This reveal seemed to confuse Raphael at once as he looked at Quintus with profound innocence. “Honoria is … here?

“NO. NO. Definitely not Honoria.” He shook his head again profusely. “Ancharia. My adoptive mother.”

“Ah. Good.” Raphael’s hand came up to his chest as he smiled with relief. “I was about to say … I would be shocked to see someone like Honoria at a place such as this.”

Carefully looking over the archangel, Quintus could see that Raphael was a bit more relaxed here than he was before. There was an air of leisure about him. “Yes, I think it would be a bit … uncharacteristic of her to be here … However, if you will forgive any possible insult, I would have thought the same about you actually.”

Raphael smirked as he turned to face the balcony upon which Quintus had seen him and his brother earlier. As he glanced up he noted that Gabriel was still standing at the railing, glaring down to him. “My brother likes it here. He enjoys this atmosphere.”

“And you?” Quintus asked. “Do you enjoy it?”

“I am much easier to please than he is, and he is easier for me to deal with when he is pleased."” Raphael turned, waving a hand down the sidewalk. “Will you walk with me for a bit?”

Quintus complied with his polite request and as they walked down the sidewalk, he scowled at the amber-eyed angel who watched from his perch above. He knew the angel was listening to the entire conversation from above, even at this distance.

"And you seem to care quite a bit about his happiness.” Quintus said, to which Raphael nodded in reply. “It does not seem that Michael has the same concern for him as you do.”

“He is my Other. Hayyoth were made to exist in pairs.” Raphael reiterated something that Quintus had already been told several times. “While, he is exactly my opposite in many ways at the same time he is exactly my complement.”

“But it is not the same with your other siblings?”

“I love Michael and Ozryel, but I am bound to Gabriel.” Raphael confessed with warmth. “It is often speculated that we are two halves, made from the same divine soul.”

“You are saying he is your soul-mate?” Quintus laughed a bit as he said it, finding even the consideration of this concept amusing. “Are you lovers?”

“No. No. No. He is my brother, Quintus.” The vehement refusal reminded Quintus’ of how he just denied Ancharia being his lover and he understood it was more of a familial bond to which Raphael was implying.

“Forgive my confusion.”

As he began to chuckle along with the dhampir’s words, Raphael shook his head. “And I said speculated. But no. He is not my soul-mate. But, it is on a primordial level that he and I are connected. No one knows why or how The Creator made us or where our souls originated, but I know that we were never meant to be alone. We function best as pairs. It is our natural state.”

“But, forgive my forwardness, not all Hayyoth were born with a pair, were they?” Quintus pressed slightly as he dug for further information. He knew that even the mentioning of the littlest brother had caused Ozryel discomfort and he wished to see if it caused Raphael the same.

“How are you getting along? How is your time in Heaven progressing? Are you finding it to your liking yet?” Raphael expertly ignored the question and Quintus smiled. There was not even a twitch of a single muscle in his face and he knew this was the brother that was dangerous. Polite and well mannered and … constantly in deep thought. A master of control and, likely, manipulation. In that respect, he reminded Quintus of himself. “It has been months since the trial. I regret not asking you earlier when you were released.”

“And thank you for that.” Quintus was genuinely grateful for being freed and the angel nodded as he clasped his hands behind him while they walked. “It has been … difficult.” He could lie, but he knew this angel would easily see past any dishonesty.

“It is expected. Those who have been born of fire and violence generally have a difficult time accepting peace.” Raphael sighed. “But it will come in time. You are one of the most patient beings I have ever met, Quintus.”

“Indeed?” It was definitely a question and he found that statement both flattering as well as unbelieveable. Raphael surely knew every being in existence.

Way slow

Let the records play low

Like the sun goes way low

Lay me down, love

Lay low, oh

Slow day but I passed the time

Coffee and a half a pack

Said I’m thinking about you and I

Took a while but you hit me back

“Think of this period as the calm before the storm. Relish in this time as an opportune period of reflection and individual growth.”

Storm?” Quintus prodded. What an odd comment. “And what storm would that be exactly?”

“I am simply referring to what you are anticipating … or should I say who. Perhaps it is a bad metaphor though.” Raphael stopped at the end of the block, looking both ways before deciding to head away from the commotion and turned left. “I meant … eventually you will be reunited with your lost. It is an inevitability, is it not? The unending cycle of life and death. You have time to find yourself before they arrive and, possibly, begin to build a future with them for when they come back to you.

“Unless I do not see her again at all.” Quintus sighed. This was the truth that Michael already told him and Raphael could see the silent anguish wash over him.

“Are you are worried that she will not be welcomed here?” Perhaps this conversation wasn’t the best one to be having with the angel after all and Quintus wondered how he might divert it away from his Poet. When he offered no response, the purple-eyed angel gave an exaggerated shrug. “Do you worry because you believe she might not live a life that would meet our standards of judgement or are you worried that she might end herself?”

“No. Her strength of character surpasses the need for such worries.” Quintus dismissed. “But it is the absence that worries me. Things change. Hearts break in ways that cannot be fixed or that are healed by other people. We …” Quintus found himself reaching into his pocket and retrieving the object from it, fiddling with it nervously as he spoke. He didn’t realized he had stolen the small shell from Ancharia until this very moment. “We did not part on the best of circumstances.”

“Perhaps you worry that she might love another?” Raphael queried and Quintus sighed at the thought of it.

Yes. I worry about this. I am told I should wish happiness for her. That I should wish her to live a long and peaceful life, but there is no part of me that wishes her to find happiness with another. It is selfish and I do not care. But that does not stop my worry.” He found love again himself and he hated himself more than ever at this moment for leaving her as he did. Closing his eyes tightly, he clenched the shell in his fist as hard as he could while he replayed her words through his mind:

“I thought I knew what love was … until I met you.”

Never be ashamed of your longing, Quintus. It has always made you strong.” Raphael said and the dhampir could hear just the slightest hint of understanding in his voice as Quintus nodded. “That is the most vicious pain in creation, I think.”

“And what pain is that, exalted one?” The nickname had escaped his lips before Quintus could halt it and it immediately reminded them both of Ozryel and her unrelenting use of them. Damnation.

“The empty pain you feel when you are separated from the one you long to be with the most … ” The angel beamed at the use of the name before his smile faded into careful thought. “Perhaps it is the emptiness of regret … Of things undone or unsaid … ”

Quintus paused in their stroll as he looked upon the solemn face of the shorter man before him. “You know this pain well, don’t you?”

Again, a question that Raphael ignored entirely as he smiled deeply. “So … She? They are a she? Tell me … does she have a name?”

“She does.” Quintus stated as he began to walk again, smiling. “And yours?”

“Mine.” Raphael uttered the word slowly and lowly as his brows pinched in sadness. “Mine.” He repeated on more time as a smile began to grace his mouth and he nodded simply, accepting the word. “Our relationship was never made public, so I would appreciate discretion.” Quintus raised an eyebrow as he shifted slightly. Having personal information on the angel might prove useful and he nodded in acceptance of the impending secret disclosure.

Sighing deeply, the angel spoke almost too lowly for Quintus to hear the name that slipped by his plump lips. “Her name was Sandalphon. My wheel within the wheel.” Quintus immediately recognized this name. She was the angel prophet that Ancharia mentioned. The one who vanished along with God. The one who had given the prophecy of The Feared. As the name sunk into his memory, the past tense of Raphael’s sentence evoked sadness within him. Was. Her name was Sandalphon.

“Was?” Quintus asked simply.

Raphael ignored the question, just as he did with the others he didn’t wish to answer, looking to him as he smiled weakly. “And yours?”

Damnation. Raphael just revealed something deeply personal to him and Quintus stared back quietly. The angel would know if he was lying and at this moment, he felt like he had been suckered into disclosing something that he really should not.

Should he even utter her first name? Should he? Would it make a difference? Did it really matter since it was not her real name after all? It was her stolen name and he grinned.

“Dawn.” Quintus began to walk again as he clasped his hands behind his back the same as Raphael’s. “Her name is Dawn.”

“Dawn.” Raphael was incredibly pleased. “That’s a lovely name.”

“Yes.” Quintus nodded. “It is.”

“What does she do?” Raphael prodded gently and Quintus could feel that he was fishing for information and the dhampir chuckled internally.

She’s a Poet.

Hathų held the sheet tightly against her chest while she stared at the wall across the room as she sat straight up in the bed. She was trying to internalize what her husband just said to her but it was difficult to accept it.

“Gone?” She repeated and he grunted an affirmative from behind her. “What do you mean gone?

“I don’t know how to explain it.” Michael’s voice was laced with absolute defeat. “I can’t see her anymore.”

“Is she still on Earth?” She hesitated to even say the words as her hand came up to her mouth. “Did she … Did she die?”

“No. No. She’s still there somewhere.” He shook his head but Hathų turned to him, her face contorted with burgeoning anger.

“How do you know!? How can you know that?!? If you cannot see her than how do you know?!” Panic was setting in and she wasn’t sure if she was more angry that their granddaughter was missing or that he seemed to not care. As her eyes met his, she knew this was not the case though, as they were filled with tears.

“Because I can still feel her …” He clenched his fists as he took a deep breath in, pinching his brow between his fingers. “And whatever the fuck she’s feeling right nowquite a bit actually.”

“What is she feeling?” She asked desperately.

“Sadness.” He whispered as he clenched her pillow to his chest and took a deep breath of it in.

“Why are you here? Why did we just waste time with this?!? Why aren’t you out there?!” Hathų suddenly leapt up from the bed, grabbing her clothes as she pulled on her dress as quickly as she could. “You should be out there, you should be–”

“I was.” He sighed. “I looked for hours. I looked everywhere.” His shoulders relaxed a bit. “I visited her friends. Her homes. Everywhere I’ve known her to be and everywhere I thought she might be. Nothing.”

“You should not have quit. You should be out there look–”

“Everywhere I go. Everywhere I look. Raphael feels it.” Michael explained. “Each time I use that fucking thing, I can feel his eyes on me. He assumes I’m still looking for the sparked child … ”

“Well …” Hathų sat on the edge of the bed. “He is not wrong there.”

“Raphael is rarely wrong.” Michael edged his way to the end of the bed and began to reach for his own clothing strewn about the ground. “And he knows something is wrong. He’s been digging at the records archive for days.”

“What will he find?” Her eyes grew wide with concern. ”Is there anything to find?!”

“Nope.” The archangel smiled sinisterly as he snickered at some inside joke. “He’s wasting his time. I set up a wild goose chase for him. He’s tenacious though. Hot damn. I’ll give him that.”

Something obvious flashed across her mind as she began to pull on her shoes. “You will need to ask him.”

“Raphael?” Pulling his shirt over his head, Michael tucked it into his pants and gave her a perturbed look. “Ask him what?”

“Not Raphael. You know who I mean. He might know where she is.” She made the obvious statement and Michael scoffed loudly before falling silent.

“Ah hell …” The angel cracked his neck to the right in a show of annoyance. “That little shit.”

When it was obvious Quintus wasn’t going to give anything else away, Raphael bowed to the dhampir, apologizing for his imminent departure.

“I can feel Gabriel getting agitated. He is probably about to pick a fight. I should be returning.” Quintus nodded and the angel only made it a few steps before he turned back. “And thank you for walk. I have enjoyed the company and I appreciate the chance to get to know you better.”

“Indeed.” Tricky angel. Quintus watched his face patiently as he could tell the Raphael was not done speaking quite yet.

“I would recommend though …” Raphael seemed to be hesitant to suggest his next statement, but a warm smile aided its arrival. “Visiting Honoria … and Sempronius. They do look forward to getting to know you as well.”

“Yes.” After the visit with Ancharia, he knew this would be his next stop regardless of what the archangel was suggesting.

“And, also … if you find yourself free tomorrow …” The mocha-skinned, purple-eyed exalted one beamed with a playful grin. “You should come to the festivities.”

“What festivities would that be? More like this?” He pointed back down the street toward the direction whence they just came. “If so, I believe I’ll prefer to stay–”

Oh Heavens No. Not this place.” Raphael shook his head as he laughed out loud. “I’m sorry. I have to be going now, but I am certain Honoria can fill you in. They go each year. I think you would enjoy it though. It might be right up your alley.”

“Wait … “ Quintus asked confused. “What festivities?”

And like that, the angel was simply gone as Quintus shook his own head in aggravation. He knew the dhampir was incredibly curious and he dangled a carrot of mystery in front of the dhampir that would likely force his visit to the Densus’ family sooner rather than later.

Wait … what the hell just happened? Quintus stood confused for just a moment as he blinked at what occurred and the realization of it set in. YES. He had just been successfully manipulated by that sneaky purple-eyed bastard. It seemed Raphael was far better at that objective than Hathų could ever hope to be.


Raphael slapped his hand down on the counter much louder than he intended and the noise shocked Zophiel as the book fell from her hands and onto the ground below. Whoops. He didn’t meant to be so … overzealous. He usually blinked into the area just outside the office door, but in his excitement, he had appeared right in front of her.

“Oh.” She looked disappointed as she picked up her book. “It’s youagain.”

He smiled widely, flashing her his cutest smile and she shook her head at his flirtatious attempt. The more he bothered her, the less of an effect it was having on her. “What is it now? Are you ready for the next Miriam box?”

“No. No.” He furrowed his nose at that. “And most of that is not even her. I’m not sure where it came from but–”

All of that is definitely her.” Squinting at him with increasing displeasure, the chubby little cherub became animated with defensiveness. “I have been running this office since the beginning of creation and if you are implying that there is something wrong with my record keeping–”

“No. No.” He waved a hand at her as he surrendered. “Forgive me. That’s not what I was implying. Forgive my rudeness.” That smile again and she relaxed a bit, but she still squinted at him with hints of annoyance. “I have come for another reason today. Can you do another search for me?”

“OK. What is it this time?” She asked as she reopened her book and began to read the romance story within. “I am pretty busy, you know. It’s just starting to get to the good parts.”

Raphael was quite pleased with himself and he spoke with growing enthusiasm. “I need any records or even just possible last names that you might be able to find for a woman by the name of Dawn.”

Zophiel looked up with utter shock. “Just Dawn? Do you realize how many people are given that name, Traveler?”

“Quite a few, I can imagine. But …” He nodded with excitement tapping his thumb on the desk as he bit his lip. The last bit of information Quintus disclosed should make this task much simpler. Her profession was quite unique for this day and age, he would imagine. “This one’s a Poet.”

@nozxnexelite​  ♡'ᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴀ Sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ!

Tʜɪs is ᴅᴇғɪɴɪᴛᴇʟʏ not Mobius anymore. Cream had no idea what happened, or how, but somehow, while trying to find where her best friend, Blaze, went off to, she somehow ended up somewhere she probably shouldn’t be. Her hazel-brown eyes darted around the environment, confused and-honestly, pretty frightened. How in the world did she end up here?

Wʜɪʟᴇ she was trying not to freak out, she spotted someone that looked familiar… Kinda. He definitely LOOKED like Sonic, but she had a very distinct feeling that it WASN’T him. She cleared her throat, attempting to catch his attention.

“Uʜᴍ, Mister? Do… d-do you know where I happen to be…? I was looking for a friend of mine and I think I got lost…”

@mad-monk-of-russia liked for a starter

Maybe it was because she was a suspicious little thing by nature, or maybe it was what someone would call intuition, but whatever it was, the moment she looked at him, she had the distinct feeling that he was not normal. She watched him warily. Now, as a general rule, she didn’t turn back on a contract when she took it, but she was beginning to debate it. She’d thought the name Grigori Rasputin was something of a joke, since it seemed almost too silly to be anyone’s real name in this day and age. And yet… 

She dismissed the feeling as being just a silly superstitious thing that she was too logical to listen to. It would be just as simple as any other job. Just observe him for a little bit, find an opening, slip a little poison and - voila! - she’d be home and collecting her pay before she knew it. 

@elamae56 said in tags:  #this is going to sound very strange#but in these gifs#I can see the man Robert would become in his old age#but also still see the the young Robert#Napoleon era

I don’t think it sounds strange :) He changed quite a lot, for example, in the 80s he looked very different from the 60s, and I could see it coming in his Columbo episodes that were shot around 1975. He looks significantly younger and closer to his 1960s look in The Protectors, but still, there are some changes.

It’s like he had very distinct looks in the 1960s, 1980s and 2000s, but 1970s and 1990s feel like some sort of transfoormation eras (?).

anonymous asked:

gender is socially constructed so i'm not sure how science can either prove or disprove its existence in the first place

gender may be a social construct but the existence of facial hair or gonads or the vulva or various hormone levels, et fucking al, are not. they are biological truths. what isn’t true is that we can easily predict the precise combination and degree of each primary and secondary sex characteristic in a human being, and then proceed to neatly group them together as being representative of purely male or female.

and what that means, in the context of the tweet in question, is that gender essentialists and/or transphobes can’t hold up biological study as evidence of the veracity of the gender binary. science can’t prove or disprove the concept of gender, but it can disprove the idea that human beings are constructed and subsequently mass-issued according to two distinct and unchanging blueprints re: what our fucking bodies look and feel like. 

moresassythanclassy  asked:

I've got a question for you! So I'm making a long gif post that represents the evolution of B's feelings for C over the past 3 seasons, and I was wondering what your thoughts on this were? E.g., when does Bellamy start thinking of her as an ally? When does he start to realize he's attracted to her? When is it evident he's developing deep feelings for her? Would you also mind signal boosting this as well, bc not only would I love to hear your thoughts, but I'd appreciate everyone else's as well!!

I’m so sorry that it’s taken me this long to get to your question. I didn’t have access to a computer for awhile and I absolutely hate writing long posts (meta in particular) on mobile, so I was waiting until I had my computer again to respond.

That aside, let’s dive in! I’m going to try my best to create a timeline of significant events relating to Bellamy’s feelings, but I find Bellamy to be a bit trickier than Clarke for some of these things (like when he started trusting her) so I’m sure other people’s opinions will differ. Also keep in mind that there’s no way I could hit every Bellarke moment (even though I wish I could) so I’m just hitting the main milestones in the evolution of Bellamy’s feelings for Clarke.

1) 1x03

Originally posted by insertacoolurl

Bellamy, to me, started respecting Clarke after she mercy-killed Atom. Before this moment, he thought that she was just a prissy privileged girl from the Ark who was here to continue doing the council’s bidding - as always. He didn’t think she really cared about the kids, just how them being alive might benefit her.

At the beginning of the episode Bellamy tells Clarke that she doesn’t have the guts to make the hard choices. She proves him wrong by killing Atom even when Bellamy couldn’t. And she also proves him wrong that she doesn’t care about the kids on the ground because by releasing Atom from his pain, at her own expense, she proves that she does. This is the moment I believe Bellamy starts to respect Clarke. That’s why the camera lingers on his reaction and why he looks at her like that. I don’t think it’s supposed to be a romantic moment (although it’s possible that this is one of those little hints that something COULD happen in the future from the writers), but it is still a significant moment in their relationship. It is to show that something has changed.

Bellamy demonstrates his new respect for her by telling the delinquents to get Clarke whatever she needs at the end of the episode. He now trusts her judgement (not necessarily trusts her completely yet, as Bellamy must have trust issues after his time on the Ark).

2) 1x04

“For now, we make the rules.”

Bellamy begins to look at Clarke as an ally, not an adversary, at the end of 1x04 after the whole Charlotte/Murphy debacle. At the beginning of the episode, they had differing views on how to handle the (fake) knowledge that Murphy was responsible for Wells’ murder. By the end of the episode, it showed that ignoring each other (Clarke ignored Bellamy about not telling the rest of the delinquents/Bellamy ignored Clarke about not hanging Murphy) proved to be destructive. They also realized that in order for things to work out, they need to work with each other, not against each other. And, they also can’t lead on their own - they need each other to balance each other out (the whole head and heart thing, right?). At the end of the day, they have the same objective - keep the kids alive. Bellamy (and Clarke) realized this in this moment, and they have been leading together ever since (the DELINQUENTS, that is - it gets a bit tricky when you look at the Sky People as a whole).

3) 1x03 - 1x08

Look, I have no idea when Bellamy started to trust Clarke. I cannot pinpoint the moment when it happened, just like I cannot pinpoint the moment that they fell in love either - and I think there’s a reason for that. I don’t think, with Bellamy, there was a moment where he started trusting her. To be clear, Bellamy did start trusting Clarke, but it wasn’t a specific thing or moment in time that made him do it. I do believe, though, that it is a variety of smaller moments between the episodes of 1x03 and 1x08 that made him start trusting her, and ALL of them are important, not just one of them.

One such moment was the Atom/mercy-killing scene, because in that moment she lifted a burden from his shoulders that she didn’t have to, and he learned that she had the delinquent’s best interests at heart, not just the Ark’s. Another was the scene where she told him that they make the rules - not just her: both of them. And then there was Clarke telling him in 1x05 that he always did what he had to do to protect his sister, and that’s who he is. Why that scene? Because she proved that she knows who he really is and can see the best in him, even when he, himself, can’t. Then, again, when Clarke helped him look for Octavia in 1x06, that was another moment that made him trust her just a little bit more.

There were other moments, too, to be certain. All I know is that by the time 1x08 came to a close, he trusted Clarke completely. “Day Trip” was the episode that solidified the trust.

When Clarke went after Dax when he was beating up Bellamy, despite being practically unarmed and at a disadvantage except for a gun she didn’t know how to shoot, she proved that she would risk her life for him. In the tree scene, she proved that she would support him. And, in the radio scene, Clarke proved that she would have his back, no matter what. When you add that to all the prior scenes, you get complete trust. But it didn’t happen in one scene or one instant - it happened over time. The trust was strengthened, but it didn’t materialise randomly one day.

(Interestingly, this is also the episode Clarke told Finn she trusted Bellamy - whether it’s when she initially started trusting him or not. Doesn’t have a lot to do with Bellamy’s own feelings, but an interesting connection all the same.)

4) 1x08

I think that even from the moment they met, Bellamy probably though “yeah, I guess she’s cute but she’s annoying as hell” and didn’t dwell on her appearance, because he just didn’t care that much. That’s how it usually is. But this moment in “Day Trip”, when he gets flustered teaching Clarke how to shoot, is the first acknowledgement that there might be some aesthetic attraction going on now, where there wasn’t before. It’s not the first time he’s noticing that Clarke is attractive - but it’s the first time he’s been hyper-aware of it, and it’s gotten him all messed up. (Which is funny, coming from the guy sleeping around camp with his cocky facade.) So there’s the aesthetic attraction, which I believe Bellamy is aware of, but I don’t think he’s aware of any other kind of attraction at this point.

5) 1x08

Yep, more “Day Trip”. There’s a lot going on in this episode - what can I say?

This is also when Bellamy starting looking at Clarke as more than just a partner, but a friend too. I believe that before this they were already growing towards a friendship, but this episode - specifically the tree scene - just served to establish it quicker than if it hadn’t happened at all. We can see by the lighthearted flirting in the next episode that the bad blood between them is gone - they’re friends now (on the path to something more, in my opinion).

I think that this tree scene is a large part in why Clarke is so special to him. Think about it: Bellamy hasn’t really had a real friend before. In order to protect Octavia, I’m sure he had to isolate himself on the Ark, so no one ever got close enough to him to find out what he was hiding. Bellamy wouldn’t take a chance like that. And even if he did have a friend, they would never scratch the surface because he would never be able to fully trust them or tell them things like he can with Clarke. That’s only one of the reasons the beginning of Bellarke is so beautiful.

6)  2x05

I’ve gone over all the major milestones for Season 1 (even though I didn’t talk about one of my personal favourites, “I Am Become Death” *cry*). Now it’s on to Season 2, and this is where Bellamy’s feelings start escalating.

I am of the opinion that Season 1 Bellarke wasn’t about romance. It was about partnership, friendship, and establishing the base of their bond before building upon it. I don’t think the writers knew for certain that they were going to go in the romance direction, but they were considering it (hence the flirting and Bellamy getting flustered) so they were keeping their options open. I think they decided it was going to be a slow burn romance when they were writing Season 2 - this became obvious to me in 2x05.

I could talk about the amazing hug scene, but since I’m looking for more distinct moments where Bellamy’s feelings are shown more clearly (not that the hug wasn’t clear, but I think the campfire makes it even clearer) I’m going to talk about the campfire scene.

This is the scene where I think it becomes clear that Bellamy is developing feelings for Clarke (maybe not fully in love with her yet, but he’s definitely getting there). The scene deliberately shows Bellamy looking at Octavia and glancing at Clarke, seeming sort of confused. Why? Because he feels differently about them. With his sister, it’s familial love. With Clarke, it used to be like that, but something’s changed and he doesn’t understand what it is. He’s never felt this way before. So while I think this is when Bellamy develops his feelings for Clarke, I don’t think he knows what those are, exactly, and it confuses the hell out of him. I don’t know if you guys have noticed (I mean, we over-analyse everything so I’m sure you have) but the mood between Clarke and Bellamy in Season 2 is very different from Season 1 - there’s a reason for that.

7) 2x09

So Bellamy’s feelings are established at this point (not stated explicitly, but you can gather it). This is the episode that it is clear to Bellamy (and the audience) that he would do anything for Clarke - sacrifice himself for her without hesitation. I, personally, believe that that that’s been true since Season 1, even, but this is the episode it’s made obvious.

First, we get the fabulous Bellamy-being-a-dramatic-hoe-and-knocking-the-supposedly-poisoned-cup-out-of-Clarke’s-hand-and-then-proceeding-to-step-in-front-of-her-to-protect-her scene, which is incredible and then Bellamy goes on to say what we’ve already figured out at this point at the end of the episode: that he would do anything for her.

“He’d do anything for her - to protect her. It just makes sense.”

And, yes, that is confirmed to be about Clarke by one of the writers, thank you very much.

8) 2x05 - 2x16

I don’t know when it happened, okay? - but no one can convince me that Bellamy Blake is not completely infatuated with Clarke Griffin when she leaves him crying outside the gates of Camp Jaha in the Season 2 finale. Like I said, I can pinpoint Bellamy falling in love with Clarke no better than I can pinpoint when Bellamy started trusting her. It didn’t happen in a second, it wasn’t love at first sight, it just was. And at some point it became right. I don’t know when that was. Realistically, it was probably a lot of smaller moments that resulted in this: Bellamy falling in love. It started with the feelings he had in 2x05, and those feelings just grew bigger and stronger over the course of the season, just as they continue to grow bigger and stronger even though we’re moving onto Season 4 now. Regardless, by the time Season 2 is over, Bellamy is in love (I still don’t think he realizes this, though) - that is very clear to me.

9) 3x02

This is the moment that Bellamy realizes he cannot lose Clarke. To be clear, it’s not like he necessarily thought he could before, but in this episode he is truly faced with what Clarke dying really means - and he can’t cope with that. He is the most off-kiltered and torn up by the thought of losing Clarke in this episode - he’s never been like this at any other point in the show. This is when Bellamy realizes the extent of what Clarke means to him. He can’t lose her. He just can’t.

10) 3x03

This was a painful moment for me, and a lot of Bellarkers. But why is that? Not a whole not happened, they barely said anything to each other. I think I know why this scene in particular was so painful. Look at Bellamy’s eyes. He stares at Clarke, searching her face, but he finds that he doesn’t recognize her anymore. And then he looks to L.exa, and he realizes why - he blames L.exa for making Clarke this way, into this unrecognizable girl. What happened to the girl who told him she needed him? Did she even mean that? He doesn’t think so.

This scene is so horribly painful because it is the scene where his trust in Clarke, so carefully built in Season 1 and 2, breaks. He can no longer trust this girl - this Wanheda. This is not the Clarke he fell in love with. This is a product of the Grounders and he can’t, for the life of him, understand when everything changed (because it happened when he was either in Mount Weather or in Arkadia, when Clarke wasn’t with him) and how Clarke could have possibly left him behind after everything.

11) 3x05

Obviously another important scene. This one, not to be confused with the one in 3x02, is the scene that it becomes obvious to the audience that Bellamy needs Clarke. But it’s more than just needing her to be alive, like in 3x02, he needs her with him. He needs her to be there, because he cannot be truly whole without her. That’s not to say he can’t function without her, but he’s his best person when she’s there (and the same goes for her). Bellamy, to this day, has never told Clarke he needs her, but he does.

I think that Bellamy, when he says the words “you left me” briefly comes to this conclusion that he needs Clarke, but under the current circumstances that’s not something he wants to be true (or can even afford to be true). The thought that he might actually need someone else, someone who has left him before (twice, if you count Polis) scares him shitless. So he ignores it and pushes it down somewhere deep inside him where he will not have to address it anymore (much like Clarke with her feelings for Bellamy in 2x09). And then he pretends the fact doesn’t exist, in a matter of seconds, and corrects himself: “you left everyone”. He makes it impersonal, even though the whole situation is far from impersonal. I think him getting angry with Clarke was a result of bottled up emotions he had towards her, but it was also about convincing himself that he doesn’t need her after all - that she isn’t worth it.

It doesn’t work.

11) 3x11 - 3x13

Two things happened over the course of these three episodes. The first - number eleven - is the rebuilding of trust. I believe that by the end of 3x13, Bellamy has started to trust Clarke again. I don’t think that, by the end of Season 3, he is quite at the point he was before Clarke left him, but he’s getting there, and I hope it’s something we get to see in Season 4.

The first thing Clarke does to get him to trust her again is returning to him, and proving once again that she does still care about the well-being of the delinquents by trying to help Raven. She also goes so far as to ask him if he’s okay, which is something no one else has actually bothered to do - despite everything Bellamy did in 3x05, she showed him that she still cared. Later, she provided more evidence of how much she cares by tending to his hand, just like he did for her. It was such a caring gesture, and probably an unnecessary one, but I think it was Clarke’s way of showing him that she still cares. Bellamy starts to trust her enough that he even opens up to her a bit, by asking her what you do when you realize you might not be the good guy anymore. Her response (”maybe there are no good guys”), equally comforting and not (if that makes sense), shows him that Clarke is still in there.

The trust between them builds more in 3x12 and then they reach a point close (but not quite) to where they used to be in 3x13. Clarke does what she did in “Day Trip” and shows Bellamy that she’s there for him, no matter what happens and the things he does, when she follows him onto that beach. Bellamy recognizes that and he recognizes her in a way he just couldn’t in 3x03. Clarke further shows that he matters to her by quoting him when they drink Luna’s vials and says the word “together”.

Trust is restored - mostly, anyway. Talk to me again in Season 4.

12) 3x11 - 3x13

The second thing these three episodes does is allow Bellamy time to forgive Clarke. It goes hand-in-hand with him learning to trust her again. I think that in 3x11, him bandaging her hand was in part him trying to heal what broke between them in 3x03 and again in 3x05. It’s part apology, part forgiveness. I don’t think Bellamy has the heart to really stay angry with Clarke after all that he has done, himself, so he doesn’t get mad at her again.

The forgiveness isn’t complete, however, until he tells her that he doesn’t want to be angry with her anymore in 3x13. It’s such a mature decision for Bellamy to make and I, as a viewer, was so proud of him for doing it.

13) 3x14

Lots of people considered this episode to be a bit dry in terms of Bellarke, but I think that’s because a lot of the major development that needed to happen in Season 3 was already handled. Not all of it, though. There were still a few Bellarke moments. However, the one that stuck out most to me was when Clarke woke up after being deposited back on the ground (after Luna kicked them off the rig) and she pulled out the chip to see if it was still there before looking back at Bellamy, just to find him already looking at her.

He’s obviously noticed her attitude toward the chip (and L.exa) and has most likely put together the pieces as to what happened in Polis. As you can tell from the gif, he gives her a slight nod, an acknowledgement of what he has gathered and her feelings for L.exa, and then turns away.

I think this moment is important because this is the moment that Bellamy accepts Clarke. He accepted her for who she was in Season 1 and in Season 2 - he was one of the few people who did (god knows Finn and L.exa never learned to) - but this is the moment where he recognizes that Clarke’s time with L.exa, on her own, and in Polis have changed her. She’s still Clarke, but she has grown in ways he couldn’t come to terms with in 3x03 (in part because she didn’t explain anything to him at the time). This is him coming to terms with who she has become, and loving her anyway.

Those are the major points in the evolution of Bellamy’s feelings for Clarke, in my opinion. This is a very, very complex topic, and I definitely haven’t hit everything or delved as deeper as I could have, if given enough time. I hope this satisfies your question and that it is what you were looking for. If anyone has a different opinion or anything to add, please do so because I know @moresassythanclassy wanted me to signal boost this!

anonymous asked:

Fic Request thing, Percabeth, either the we're neighbours and you show up as a stripper, or I sat down in the wrong class and now you're laughing at me. If you please.

Idly, Percy wonders how long it’s going to take her to notice.

He’s already lost his own internal bet with himself. His money would have been on Annabeth taking one look at his face (big grin included) and realising that she didn’t have any business being in his marine science class. But apparently he’s something of a fixture in her life right now, because all she does is give him a big scowl to match the smile on his face, reaching into her messenger bag to drag her laptop out.

He nudges his coffee over to her. There’s way too much sugar in it for her tastes, but she takes a big gulp of it anyway, pulling a face right after. But the scowl has softened, and the elbow she nudges into his side is gentle. Percy huffs a quiet laugh, accepting the paper cup back, brushing his thumb over the curve of hers as he takes it.

The professor - late, as per usual - hurries down the main aisle, jacket flapping in the breeze. Percy knows for a fact that the architecture class Annabeth takes at this time is taught by a woman (he might have walked her there a time or ten), but the distinct dude-shape of his teacher doesn’t appear to have made an impression on her muzzy brain yet.

“Late night?” he asks, unable to strip the amusement from what is very genuine concern.

She grunts at him, pressing the power button on her laptop. Percy hears the distinct sound of a fan starting, and stopping again. A couple of lights on the keyboard dance, before dying. Annabeth stares at the thing uncomprehendingly for a moment, before whacking it on the side.

Percy considers that he should probably let her know what’s up soon. Before he becomes the laptop. She presses the power button again, and this time it starts up. Percy opens his mouth to - gently - let her in on the mistake (not her mistake, of course not), when he whole body abruptly stills.

He turns his head to the screen, where her - very pretty - eyes are locked. There is a picture of a manatee on the screen. It’s a great looking manatee, but Percy has the distinct feeling that his girlfriend is not in a manatee-appreciating sort of mood. He can almost feel his death approaching as her head turns, slowly, remaining perfectly level. Her - very pretty - eyes are narrowed, and he can see the storm rolling in over her face.

Damage control, some part of him asserts. “You’re late for class,” he blurts, leaning over and bumping a quick kiss onto her cheek, shutting the lid of her laptop at the same time. “You better run!”

The kiss - well, he can tell she likes the kiss, but it doesn’t help. She shoves her laptop back into her bag, jabbing a finger at him as she swings the bag over her shoulder. “You’re a dead man, Percy Jackson.”

Damage control probably doesn’t include laughing, but he does it anyway as she charges back up the aisle. “Looking forward to it!”

Naps Fix Everything

Anonymous said to bvb-oneshots:

Can I have an Andy imagine where (Y/N) is on her period and she drops a plate or something and it breaks and she stars crying and one of the band members where over and laughed at her, and Andy defends her, but (Y/N) doesn’t want them to know it’s her time of the month. I know it sounds stupid, but it’s happened to me but I put my pants on backwards and started crying ._. Anyways thank you.

This one was short, but I thought it was still cute

“Hey, babe.” Andy said, coming into the kitchen, startling just as you were reaching for a plate from the cabinet. You shrieked as the plate slipped from your grasp ad crashed to the floor. You looked at the plate, feeling the distinct sting of failure, and tears burned your throat, and the back of your eyes.

“Whoa there, clutz.” Ashley said, and started laughing. You turned away and covered your face with your hands, body shaking slightly with the effort to keep yourself silent.

“Shut the fuck up, Ashley.” Andy said, coming to stand behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“It’s okay, baby.” He whispered, kissing your temple. “It’s just a plate sweet heart, there’s not reason to cry. We’ll go buy another.” He assured you, taking your hand in his and rubbing soothing circles into it.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” You told him, turning around and leaning your head against his chest.

“Babe, this isn’t just the plate is it? Are you okay? Did something happen?” He asked, but you just shook your head.

“Ash, I think you should leave.” Andy said over his shoulder, rubbing your back affectionately.

“What, but Andy-!”

“Ash, get the fuck out.” Andy told him, rubbing your back and kissing your temple. “I need to spend the night with my girl.”

You smiled against his chest through your tears.

“Thank you.” You murmured once Ashley had stormed out.

“It’s no problem, babe, you know that. I’d rather spend time with you than that asshole anyway.” He promised, kissing your forehead lightly. “So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“That’s okay.” He said, “Come on, let’s go take a nap.” He said, taking your hand and leading you to your bedroom. “Naps fix everything.” He smiled back at you, and you chuckled.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably take less naps.” He assured you, kissing your lips lightly. “So it’s a good thing you’ll never have to do without me, isn’t it?” He grinned, and you smiled up at him. You’d gotten so lucky with him. He was just 

@heromask || starter for u since ilu

   she’s nearing leblanc, phone out and skimming through the messages. she took a few seconds to reply to a few, opening the door to the cafe and entering. she’s about to give a quiet greeting to sojiro when she felt that distinct feeling and her eyes look away from the screen and fall upon a single person in the establishment. 

   sometimes, akina had to wonder if the detective just enjoyed coming around because he was bored or if sojiro’s coffee was that appealing to him. regardless…

   “…goro.” are they in no way friends nor are they even that close enough to refer to him as such. it’s mostly done out of some spite. despite his friendly manner towards her, she felt off by it. well, that and his words about the phantom thieves rubbed her the wrong way. “i hope you’re just finishing.”