ootd from last week when it was not that freaking hot. i love how layering can change how clothes look. this cow skull top is very ‘sexy’ and revealing on its own, so i usually wear it with another tank top underneath, and it’s still a bit daring that way. but with a simple black shortsleeve tee instead, it becomes more childish-girly and 90’s-like. either style is cool, but it’s nice to be able to switch back and forth between them :)
skull top and black jeans are thrifted, black tee is from h&m kids, sneakers from decathlon. also it’s really nice to take outfit photos with a remote controlled dslr on a tripod :3
#2 on the drabble prompts. How about for Jon and Daenerys since that's your thing?
Oooh! Thanks for asking me to do this. I love it. Drabbles have never been my strong suit so I hope this is okay? It’s kind of long haha. Also kind of fluffy and fanciful, entirely implausible in GoT canon. I regret nothing! XD
The question jolted Jon from his reverie and he glanced over
to see his sister smiling coyly, taunting him. He hadn’t noticed
Sansa walk over to meet him, lost in his own thoughts amidst the bustle of the
ball, the press of people filling Dragonstone’s Great Hall to capacity.
“What else would you have me do?” he asked her, shrugging.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Sansa gestured dramatically at the grand
spectacle of it all, indicating the couples dancing on the well-polished floor all
around them. “I suppose dancing never
occurred to you?”
Jon scoffed. “These highborn ladies have no interest in
dancing with a Northern bastard.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re more than that, and you know it.
‘The King in the North whose name is Stark,’” Sansa recited, stepping in front
of him to command his attention, her steely blue eyes finding his. “And you’ve
got more than your fair share of willing partners,” she added, nodding almost
imperceptibly toward the back corner of the room.
It was dark
night. A dark, noisy night like so many he had seen on that dumb planet, in
that realm of chaos and oddities. It was inhabited by people who were easy to
manipulate, weak minds like children’s, and who for some time had given him the
illusion of getting something full of greatness, something glorious. And wrong.
his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, and turned his back at the enormous stained-glass
window that was directly on the frenzy of the night streets. He coughed with a
shiver. Every time he forgot the dry air he breathed in that huge building
where he had been leaded after the end of those tragic events, and where he
lived for a year now.
The Stark Tower. A gigantic finger made of steel and
glass, pointing straight to the sky, full of lights, laboratories, corridors
and rooms. And people. Many of whom did not love him, distrusted him, and even
feared to speak to him. In the Stark Tower everything was automated and
technologically advanced: the doors opened with mysterious hidden buttons, the
lights had strange reflections and even the comfortable common rooms, tastefully
furnished, hiding ultra-modern gadgets that he hated and found them completely
spent several months to get used to that setting that made him uncomfortable
and so far from his reality, but for how much effort he did, he would never
have been able to understand the contraption that filtered all the air, and
returned it dry, clean and with a vague smell of disinfectant he badly
tolerated, and forced him to cough. He let a thoughtful look run over his large
desk that was soon filled with books, papers and pens; he had everything he
wanted in that fistful of nice and comfortable rooms where he lived, so a
careless look would never have known that that was his golden cage.
He could go
out, attend the vast library, get new experiences in the common lounges, but he
was not allowed to leave the building and every time he moved from one area to
another, he had to do some sort of report to a metal voice in a microphone, an
invisible figure called Jarvis, so Stark and his friends always knew where he
was. He looked back out of the window, but instead of seeing sparkling lights,
skyscrapers, and tiny cars in a row fifty-eight floors down below, his
reflection in the glass attracted his attention. He hated what had become his
life, he hated the fact that he could only blame himself, and he hated to admit
it, in silence, with himself. He stared into the clear glass, his face with an
almost somber expression. The black long hair just past her shoulders, high
forehead, the sculpted cheekbones. And then those eyes. Even the deep black of
the night sky was unable to suffocate the intense green of his gaze. An unnamed
green, deep, vibrant, of an almost painful beauty.
recognized the man of that reflection?
Laufeyson, God of Mischief and Liars, Prince of Asgard and son …
He hit a
fist on the glass to stop his thoughts and walked away from the window with a
grimace of anger, as if the window itself was guilty for this feeling of being
void and prisoner. He lay down on the bed stretching his long legs: the
comfortable black trousers accompanied that movement with a delicate silky
swish. He crossed his hands behind his neck and stared at the ceiling. It was
better if he tried to sleep, he had to stop with his stupid fixation of late
reading and grinding sad thoughts. But there was that dream …
that persecuted him for weeks, if not months, and the last thing he wanted was
to get back to it, to live it …
The light. It always started with the blinding,
beautiful light that I knew well. It was the light that was driving me. It was
so wonderful to be there, surrounded by that warm golden light. I also knew the
scent of those delicate plants, wet ferns and blooming flowers that accompanied
my every step.
I knew immediately where I was and my last
remnant of conscience had twisted to wake up. “No!!”
The golden light sprang like a hug and warmed
my heart like never before. Somewhere, among the hedges, the sound of running
water seemed to me the laugh of a little
girl. I decided to move forward, while a strange sweet sadness grabbed my heart…
have you done? Hurry up, Tony asked to talk to you and you’re doing everything
to be late! ”
glanced cold at the stinging voice that had spoken to him, then returned to
sipping his glass of orange juice.
the Tin Man that I’m not the dog that runs under his command …” he
growled, abruptly move away the beefy blond man who had appeared to him
“…nor you are my watchman!”.
snorted: he was clearly unhappy with the delay Loki deliberately accumulated.
not always be so dramatic, little brother. I do not know what he have in mind, but
… by the wind!!… he just asked to talk to you!”
in those words was clashing into the ears of the God of Mischief, which jumped
like under the whip. Thor did not call him “little
brother” since he had twelve winters and was trying to emulate his
prodigious strength as he laughed at his childish attempts. A wave of painful
memories began to roar in his mind, but he was a God, in the name of the Hells!…and he
would turn those demons back to where they had crawled. He shrugged his jaw and
poured his anger into a tight muscle. He stiffened and decided to act as if nothing happened: never and ever would let Thor notice his old wounds. He raised an
eyebrow and passed it over with his panther walk.
let’s go then!” he said with a grin amused “Let’s hear what gave
birth the keen mind of the Tin Man!”
for a moment to look his brother walks away, and suddenly he began to worry
because he knew how little they loved each other, and that morning Loki seemed
less accommodative than usual. Tony Stark also discovered it, later, when he
saw him, in his studio, that immensely green look planted on him,…tall, slender
but strong, dressed in black leather, and a simple dark green shirt. The only
detail he had kept of his old garments was the thick leather-made arm guards, adorned
with golden metal plates.
“How did you get in?”
many can boast of have caught me by surprise, Stark …” he said “And
you do not make the exception.”
back a few steps and crossed his arms over his chest.
do you want?”
up, walked around his desk and stopped to pour half a glass from a bottle of
orange liquid. “I suppose you do not want anything to drink, as
the disgusted expression of the young God as he looked at his light drink: to
see him always so reserved, so damn rational, and reluctant to loosen his iron
self-control, increased his frustration.
the ability to make him feel like one of those bullies that hid his own fragilities
behind a glass,… which even himself had thought, several time, and which had
almost a fistfight with Rogers, who accused him of the same thing.
glimmer of truth burned like an open wound…
been a year since you’re here, boy, I hope it’s been enough time to think about
silent, motionless, his jaw clenched and a fierce anger in his cold green
the man, who was walking up and down the room: he noticed that he never looked
directly at him and actually, it seemed that he did not want to get too much close.
‘You are a
coward, Stark, a big, arrogant coward!’
have plans for you, Loki.” he announced with a smile, “I thought and
evaluated this thing very calmly, … the last thing I want to do is the big bullshit
to put a murderess in my house, but I’ve been thinking a lot and I made a
He took a
sip and looked at last the God of Mischief straight in the eyes.
want to give you the chance to join our team and work with us.”