even if it is four different covers

The Spectrum of Humanity

An excerpt from an essay published by Arak'Antos, professor of Humanology at a renowned university.

The sheer scope of humanity’s variety necessitated the creation of an entirely new field of study.  Never before in the history of galactic civilization has any one race been so uniquely bizarre that they could not be encompassed in standard xenobiology and xenopsychology courses.  Even before the body modifications that they are so fond of, it can often be different to tell that two humans belong to the same race, as they can differ in every plausible physical and psychological way.

Their skins’ pigmentation ranges from a deep brown that approaches true black, to rare individuals that possess no pigments whatsoever, leaving them entirely white.  They can have hair covering most of their body, or have none at all.  They can range in height at adulthood from four feet tall to eight feet tall, with some notable exceptions on both ends of the spectrum.  

The psychological differences are just as pronounced.  Several humans have agreed to extended observation as part of my ongoing research into their nuances, and the findings have been striking.  One volunteer shunned physical contact at nearly any cost, and avoided social interaction whenever plausible.  He would sometimes sit as his computer in silence for long periods of time, once going nearly three days without moving, without even eating.  I did not interrupt, as I wished the observation to be impartial, but once I felt I had collected enough data, I asked him about it.  Was it difficult to go that long without nourishment or rest?  His response:

“Not really?  I guess I just lost track of time.”

This has been observed in other humans as well, to lesser degrees, with them being able to “lose track of time” as they focus on a single task, be it something as trivial as assembling a model or reading a book, for hours.  Inversely, I have also observed humans who would be, simultaneously, working on a report, listening to music, watching video, and participating in one or more conversations through voice communications or text programs.  When denied one or more of these stimulants, they would become noticeably on-edge, and their productivity would, somehow, suffer.

There is no known correlation between mental and physical attributes, either.  Every few months I see some naïve young researcher publish a paper that “proves” a link between human appearances and behavior patterns, only for humans to “come out of the woodwork” and present themselves as living evidence of the falsity of their claim. 

In short, no matter how much we study humans, only the most basic of understandings can be applied to them as a species.  To understand a given human, one must study that specific human.

Villain (FrostIron Prompt Fill)

Okay lol so this is for @ajanamyth who suggested Loki wooing Tony, and Steve being upset.
Not sure if this is exactly what you had in mind babe, but this is what happened!!!

***************************

“Stark.“ Loki landed on the ground and stomped towards Tony. "Call your team off, or I will be forced to hurt them.”

“Will you?” Tony shot back, and raised his arm to aim the repulsor right at the Trickster God. “Because every time we do this sort of thing, you end up retreating.”

Loki narrowed his eyes and stalked even closer and Tony smirked. In his suit he was the same height as the overly tall bastard, and he completely enjoyed not having to look up to talk down to him. He even opened his faceplate so Loki could absolutely see the smug look on his face.

“So maybe–” he continued with a short laugh. “–you should take all that bluster and bullshit you carry around with you, and that ridiculous cape and maybe just–WHOA!”

Tony ducked and scrambled back a few steps when Loki summoned his magic and shot a bolt of energy at him.

“God it’s so rude to interrupt me when I’m monologuing!” Tony snapped and fired a few shots off, hating how much he enjoyed the effortless way Loki seemed to dodge them.

They fought hard for a few minutes, trading blasts and snarky one liners, until Tony popped a repulsor that should have blown a hole in the Demi gods chest, but instead Loki just wrinkled his nose and disappeared–

— and reappeared right in Tony’s space, so close that Tony stumbled back into a wall, and Loki pressed close to him, a curious look on his face.

“You are adorable when you are cocky.” That low voice was suddenly entirely too close to Tony’s ear, and Tony had to swallow back his initial reaction (which was definitely not a moan. It wasn’t) and had to lick his lips, which only drew that green gaze down. “I much prefer your brand of courage to the rest of these quivering mortals.”

“Tell me, Anthony.” Tony’s full name rolled of Loki’s tongue sounding entirely too good. “When you take this suit off–” Loki glanced down. “Do you prefer to wear silk or–”

“Tony!” The shout distracted Loki, who turned just in time to see Captain’s shield flying toward him.

Tony’s face mask slammed down and he was blasting away in a split second, and Loki barely managed to dodge the shield, sending a fierce glare at the Captain before shimmering away into nothing.

Tony flew off towards the tower, unsure of why his heart was pounding a little too hard, and why he couldn’t quite wipe the smile from his face.

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Bora Bora - Auston Matthews (smut)

Requested by anon: Idk if you’re taking requests rn or not but I would love love love an auston matthews smut. The longer the better. That boy is hotter than sin and I feel like he’d be glorious in bed.

A/N: I’m actually quite proud of this, like I actually like it. Let me know what you think! The seventh part of Casino Night will be up tomorrow.

Word count: 2355

Warnings: Smut. Explicit content. Probably some bad words.

Master list

Originally posted by martinfrks

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Hair

Trichotillomania.

A mouthful of a name for the compulsion to pull out your own hair. All hair, the hair on your head, arms, your eyelashes, eyebrows. Lots of people have it, it’s usually paired with anxiety and other lovely issues.  

Mine got worse when I felt anxious, my fingers would just curl up in my hair and I’d pluck a strand out. Then another one. And another one. During high school I’d beg the principal to allow me to wear a hat to school so no one could see the bald patches but he told me ‘Just stop pulling out your hair.’

Needless to say, I got picked on. A lot.

I suppose it was a learned habit though.

My mother pulled out her hair too.

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When We’re Human Again

AO3 

Rating: K

Word Count: 2,900~

Summary: Based on @artsycrapfromsai‘s Beauty and the Beast AU. In which Ford becomes human again after years spent cursed as an enchanted journal, and Stanley and the kids realize happy endings are often a lot more complicated and messy than one might initially perceive.


The fading laughter was what let him know the onslaught had finally ended. Ford sensed the distant pelt of vibrations against the stone, moving towards the balcony, towards-

Stanley.

An insidious tendril of dread began to suffocate him as he realized his cursed form was wholly unable to come to his brother’s aid. And worst of all, the young man— Gideon, his name was?— abused him enough that his binding was starting to unravel at a dangerous rate.

Wild gales assaulted delicate parchment, threatening to cleave these pages from his trampled spine and leave him barren. He feared this wind was bitter enough to seep through even his brother’s thick fur, but as he didn’t possess the nerve endings required to differentiate temperature, there really was no way to tell.

Stanley mentioned playing in snow on the castle grounds with the children the other day, though, hadn’t he?

He lay sprawled on his back, trapped within his roving thoughts and functionally helpless without his brother or one of the young siblings to pick him up. The long years had chipped away at him, cruelly stripping bundles of parchment from his binding with each passing month— each page representing a portion of his memory. He’d already lost so much of his childhood and early life to this unstoppable decay. In fact, in his present state he found he barely recalled how he’d been cursed into this form to begin with.

What was it like, Ford wondered, to be human? To have strong limbs extending in every direction? The ability to contort and move his form by deliberate choice? What did it feel like to hold an ink quill and write manually for once? To consciously express emotion in more than simple text on page? Faintly, he thought he recalled a time when all of these actions and properties were overlooked mundanities— but he’d been imprisoned within this leather bound journal for so long that sometimes the thought of anything else but this existence faded into obscurity within seconds. And this frightened him.

I can’t even remember… what I once looked like, he realized in a pang of panic.

How much humanity did he have left to spend?

The few pages still bound fluttered endlessly in the wind, and he desperately struggled to keep ahold of them. He imagined his own thoughts appearing on pages in written word, frantic pleads for help, in the futile hope that continuing to mark his own parchment would somehow retain his connection with it. He felt another page tear away. Heard it as it cut through the air like a thin blade.

N-no… please…

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3

🌸Sexy Zone, revealing things about each other🌸

Profile questions:

Q1. Birth date
Q2. Birth place
Q3. Something I’m addicted to right now
Q4. Something I bought recently
Q5. Something I’d like to do this spring
Q6. My favourite quote
Q7. My character within the group

Matsushima Sou:

A1. 97/11/27
A2. Shizuoka
A3. Watching dramas
A4. Many concert DVDs so I can learn from their performances
A5. A trip to Kyoto
A6. „Every effort will surely be rewarded“. When I was in elementary school, a teacher told me these words.
A7. The one who is easy to make fun of. I often get corrected when I do mistakes and I feel like I get teased at least once a day.

Sato Shori:

A1. 96/10/30
A2. Tokyo
A3. Dancing. Especially to hip hop music from the 90’s!
A4. A dancing outfit. I got baggy clothes.
A5. Explore other regions. I am promoting my movie and having performances in March so I’m looking forward to going to many different places.
A6. „Even if it’s raining a rainbow might appear. But if you don’t hold your head high you won’t notice the rainbow.“
A7. Making witty comments. Five years ago it was different… the other four members were the ones who made witty comments about me (laughing).

Nakajima Kento:

A1. 94/3/13
A2. Tokyo
A3. Collecting book covers. Because when I carry scripts and notes in my bag, I don’t want them to get damaged.
A4. A bag with a painting of Dali printed on it. I bought it when I went to see a Dali exhibition!
A5. Magic tricks. While being at a shooting location I want to lift up the mood.
A6. „It is never too late to be what you might have been.“ (t/n: he said that in English)
A7. A skyrocket. Someone who tends to lead exciting conversations. It always makes everyone go „Wow!“

Marius Yo:

A1. 00/3/30
A2. Heidelberg (Germany)
A3. Going back to sleep after waking up. I set my alarm clock two hours before I need to wake up on purpose, so I can go back to sleep one more time. It feels good so I recommend it (laughing).
A4. Face lotion. I use three different types during the day.
A5. Hanami.
A6. „I like you.“ To family, friends, the fans, I want to use these words a lot!
A7. The youngest child. I’m loved by all members♡

Kikuchi Fuma:

A1. 95/3/7
A2. Tokyo
A3. A game called „Momotaro Dentetsu“. Since I finished my bachelor’s degree thesis now I’m enjoying it to the fullest.
A4. A black muffler. Other than buying them to use them with school uniforms, actually this is my first muffler ever.
A5. Dye my hair!
A6. None. I want to find a certain something through someone’s words. I’m still looking for it.
A7. Someone who sees things objectively. It’s important that there’s a balance within the group created by someone who is looking from the outside.

Shori x Sou

Shori: Recently, Sou’s text messages became short! Before that, his long sentences filled up the whole phone screen but now he texts only „Okay“. There isn’t even an exclamation mark!
Sou: That’s because all the members except me use short sentences. So I changed it to fit in.
Shori: The change is too sudden! I became worried because your writing was too different (laughing).
Sou: Well Shori, do you prefer long or short sentences then?
Shori: Either one is fine with me.
Sou: Don’t you think that long sentences are bothersome?
Shori: My partner should be able to send me whatever they want. So, can you reveal something about me?
Sou: In front of me you are like you usually are. When the two of us are on the radio, Shori is being his „natural“ self in front of me.
Shori: …aren’t you conceited? (laughing) But since I’m close to Sou in age, certainly I feel at peace with him.

Fuma x Kento

Kento: Kikuchi is often looking after the members’ hair so he’s the hair producer!
Fuma: Ah~ certainly. Even when I change my own hair style, I think about balancing it with the other members.
Kento: You often give advices too, right?
Fuma: I gave advices to Sou and Marius when they had a strange hair style (laughing). Related to hair, I have something to reveal about Nakajima. That guy said he wants to have short hair!
Kento: What’s with this situation’s mood!
Fuma: We were worried about Matsushima having short hair. So Nakajima said „Well, then I’ll  have short hair first“. It was like Dachou Club-san’s „Douzo douzo“ (laughing). 
Kento: Since no one continued after me, I really wanted to try it…
Fuma: Well, I think short hair would suit you too.

Sou x Marius

Sou: I think that Marius is really smart. Recently you’ve been studying hard, you even did the highest level in an English proficiency exam, right?
Marius: Yes. But I still don’t know the results yet.
Sou: After looking it up online, I read that in order to do that level, you need university level knowledge. It’s amazing that you challenged that at 16 years old.
Marius: Thank you~♡ Sou-chan… are you lonely? Since you’re often on your phone.
Sou: Am I not always together with Marius?
Marius: But Sou-chan is always playing with his phone!
Sou: No, Marius is always the one playing on his phone! Well, should we check who has more battery left on our phones right now?
Marius: Mine is at 39%.
Sou: Mine is still at 67%!
Marius: I’m sorry, I lost (laughing).

Marius x Fuma

Fuma: Marius is entering an age now in which he wants to change from having a cute character to start walking the path of being cool! Today he has even put up his bangs.
Marius: I’m in the middle of trying to figure out how to look more adult-like…
Fuma: Why not try out different things? However, I will tell you clearly if something doesn’t suit you.
Marius: Yes. I can rely on Fuma-kun who’s like my older brother ♪ But recently, I think I don’t want to have a spoiled character only.
Fuma: …now that you’re saying that, sometimes you send me weird text messages. And when I don’t reply to them, you go like „Ne, neee~!“ (laughing).
Marius: I see that you read them but I feel lonely (if you don’t reply)…
Fuma: That’s because your messages contain things like „I had a dream in which I was abducted by aliens“!? After reading that, I simply put my phone away (laughing)!

Kento x Shori

Kento: Shori didn’t say something like „I wonder if I should dye my hair“ before, he just did it and without telling anyone his hair became stylish. His hair change was natural.
Shori: Yeah, I didn’t say much.
Kento: Yes. When I heard about it later, you told me „Actually I got a perm then“ with a charming look on your face.
Shori: Even in front of me Kento-kun is the „idol-like Nakajima Kento“. Before we went out together for a meal, I was imagining things like „How is Kento-kun going to show up, what should I say to him first“. Then I totally impressed him.
Kento: As soon as we met, he said „Ah~ looks like usual“ (laughing).
Shori: Because I was imagining how you’re going to show up (laughing).


Keep in mind I am not a native speaker therefore there might be mistakes in my translations. Also I’m not exactly translating word for word. Feel free to correct me in my ask box any time you want, I’d appreciate it! I apologize if someone already translated something before me and I didn’t notice, I hope you don’t mind.

So dance-wise how would you rate them now that C’s gone? I feel like C was a bit of an attention hog on stage so with her gone they’ve gained in the area of coordination/cohesiveness. And they’ll gain even more when they become accustomed to performing with four instead of five (Imagine new choreo to go along with new non-C centered music lol). The thing that does concern me is that C sort of used to balance A out, and now the difference between her moves and “DC3″’s is more obvious…She’s really going to have to work hard now to compensate, but vocally her and D have been killing at covering C’s parts.

Fifth Harmony performs “Reflection” at the San Antonio Rodeo

anonymous asked:

Can u give me some hhd house designing tips?? I really need some thanks!!!🌸

Of course, of course! Here’s some basic tips that are pretty helpful!

  • Don’t be afraid to place items in the center of the room! Back when I was playing Wild World and City Folk, I would always put all of my furniture against the wall. Use your whole room!
  • Use QR codes and your own custom designs on furniture, make your rooms exceptionally original
  • Have a bit of a plan in your head before designing. For example, picking out the size of the room and what theme you want (ex. zen, pink, wood, plant, candy, pastel, goth, etc.)
  • Use furniture for their unintended purposes! Flip bookcases around and use them as tables, use items such as the changing room for wall dividers, use dressers as headboards for beds, anything you can come up with!
  • Have more than one room, or divide a room into sections. Having the basics is good, unless you’re going for something special in your house like a school bus or a spaceship or something, then this doesn’t apply. Try to have a living room/main room and a kitchen! Kitchens are the funnest rooms to set up, if you ask me~
  • Decorate! Fill empty spaces on book cases and tables with knickknacks such as an aroma pot, plants, papers, pictures, etc.
  • Have your own style! This isn’t super important, but it will help you stand out. I like to repeat certain tricks in most of my rooms, such as having a clock in every room, having a stereo for background noise, putting objects behind couches if they aren’t against the wall, things like that
  • Get creative with your exteriors! Make them look like cozy suburban yards, plant some flowers, maybe lay down a picnic blanket. Maybe your client lives in a cabin in the woods, surround their house with lots of cedar trees, spread out the occasional four-leaf clover, add a bonfire. How about living in the big city? This calls for some QR codes, or designs you make yourself! Place tiles down to make it look like your house is sitting on the side of a busy street, use those outdoor decoration items such as the cars and street lights to your advantage!
    Add plants! Plants liven up every room, no matter the theme! Put them on the floor, on a shelf, on the wall, even on the ceiling!
  • Refurbish items! It’s easy, it really makes your room look even better!
  • Add little fish and insects as pets!
  • Place mushrooms outside! They look adorable! You can find them at the end of the food section
  • Use mood lighting! Different colored lamps give off a different kind of glow! A good and simple way to use this is by refurbishing the modern lamp. Monochromatic = normal lighting (white), red tone = red lighting, blue tone = blue lighting, green tone = green lighting, yellow tone = yellow lighting, gray tone = normal lighting. Adding more than one lamp in the same room will make the room brighter, so if you want a really red room, try using four lamps!

I think that covers most of it! I’m actually going to post a little mood lighting guide on my blog soon. I hope this helps a little bit! I’m not the best at explaining things. ^^’

The clothes make the man

Birthday gift for the lovely @bxdcubes, who deserves it all. I hope you enjoy this, Mar! Happy birthday!

Also, people, NC-17 this one, although I suppose you can skip the sex scene. Apart from that, dorky Stiles a galore, humour and fluff.

The trick to sneaking into a building where you shouldn’t be is to make it seem to all eyes like you should. Stiles has been doing this since he was a little older than toddler and he wanted to get back his Batman action figure from the evidence room in his dad’s Police Station.

(Of course, he got caught that time. He was a kid, what was to be expected? But to all intents and purposes he’s not talking about the after part, but the before. And he got into that evidence room just fine and got his Batman back, so that’s what counts.)

For starters, one has to look the part. And that means clothing and attitude wise, of course. It doesn’t matter if they don a suit if they don’t own it and make it theirs, because they will look like a kid playing with their dad’s clothes and get caught. Apart from that, one has to be able to lie like a pirate while looking innocent like a choir boy if they do get caught. Once one dominates those two aspects, they’re set for success.

Stiles has a three piece suit on, a strut created by the gods and a general I’m-da-boss disposition with a facial expression to match. He also has a very nifty fake identification that he flashes at the guard along with a vaguely superior squint of the eyes (nothing more than that because some security personnel take that as a challenge) that says I dare you to stop me.

He breezes through security.

(Which is good, because he may not be wearing a coat over just lingerie like some girls in the profession, but he’s not wearing any underwear and with the way these trousers fit, Stiles is more than sure that it’s pretty noticeable… which would be a little hard to explain.)

He gets on the elevator and makes sure to keep a calm and unquestionable countenance as the doors close up. There’s a security camera up in the corner and he wishes he could put a hat on, that fedoras where still a thing nowadays… partly because he would totally rock one, partly because that would cover his face nicely. As it is, he has to content himself with using the “paperwork” to cover his features but if things go south and he has to make a hasty retreat, he can always shave off his beard and he’ll be unrecognizable.

(His partner sure will be happy if that happens, because he prefers it when his face is bare and has just been bearing with the change. Stiles needed the beard for this, though, so it couldn’t be helped.)

(Darrows and braiding jokes aside, Stiles doesn’t like having a beard either, to be honest. It’s way to much work to maintain it looking nice and to not let it go over the fence into scruffy lumberack territory. Which, for the record, looks horrible on him because more than a man with a beard it looks like a beard with a man attached. That’s how much the look owns him rather than the other way around.)

The elevator chimes when it reaches the executive floor and Stiles’ eyes dart around quickly, trying to locate any guards and finding none. Mr. Christopher Argent’s office is at the far end of the hall and there’s at least one office in the middle with its lights on, which worries Stiles but not overly much, because despite appearances he’s a pro at being silent when it counts.

And the reward he will get for his services tonight counts a lot. Stiles got really lucky with this one. He’s more than easy on the eyes (fit and handsome) and despite initial appearances he’s not an asshole whose way of getting off is having a capable and attractive looking young man humiliated and licking at his polished and very expensive shoes. Not that there’s anything wrong with that if both parties enjoy it, mind you, it’s just not Stiles’ thing and he hasn’t been always lucky in that department.

He pushes himself forward and advances through the spacious and airy hallway, trying to look inconspicuous as he passes one of the lighted offices. There are plants tastefully placed on both sides and a very wide window on the left that extends from Stiles’ elevator’s exit to another one at the far end (locked after office hours) and he has to admit it’s an impressive view. The smell of pine permeates the air but it’s soft enough to not be bothersome. Stiles supposes it comes from strategically placed air fresheners rather than from the actual wooden floors. Overall, the general sensation it provokes is tranquillity and calm, which Stiles finds slightly ironic since this is a high-end lawyer firm.

The overall effect is ruined, though, when a voice comes right from behind him taking with it some years of his life.

“What are you doing here?”

Stiles turns around abruptly, hoping that his expression is more a mild oh-my-you-startled-me rather than a full on holy-crap-you-scared-the-bejeezus-out-of-me or a fuck-I-got-caught-what-crap-should-I-spew-right-now when he recognizes the big boss among bosses, Peter Hale.

Peter “The Wolf” Hale they call him and he sounded pretty pissed off too. Stiles may have just popped a fear boner just now even if the man looks more surprised than anything else at the moment.

“Ah, good night, sir,” he answers amicably. “Sorry if I startled you. Mr. Argent said that he concentrates better when the office is empty and asked if I could accommodate him today. Frankly, I work better at night myself, so I didn’t mind working the kinks over at this late hour.” He feigns looking and then frowning at his paperwork. “As it is, it will probably take us quite a few intense sessions to hash out everything,” he sighs as if put upon, “so I should probably get going. Sorry again for bothering you.”

He’s a little shit, he knows. Stiles has always gotten his kicks out of playing with dogs bigger than he is. More specifically, from looking harmless like a toy poodle and then turning into a wolf when they least expect it or not letting them realize what has happened until it’s over. Either of those two options is just fine, the reactions are always priceless. He knows this bad habit of his will come back to bite him in the ass someday, but what can he say? He’s a man of many vices.

But, oh, one Peter Hale is the top dog among top dogs and Stiles can feel himself pumped up for the confrontation, the battle of wits, the clash of wills… Ok, but he’s getting carried away, back on track, Stiles. But, really? Peter “The Wolf” Hale. If this isn’t a call for him to… Back on track, Stiles! These pants are tailored to fit him to the millimetre, he can’t afford to pop a full boner. And sadly, as it is, he’s already half mast so he needs to take a grip of himself.

(Crap.)

(Wrong analogy.)

(Abort, abort, abort.)

(You’re a high class prostitute, Stiles, he reminds himself firmly, be more chill!)

Stiles forces himself to nod casually at the man and to turn around to go towards Argent’s office. There’s a pointed silence at his back that feels like the calm before the storm, but he doesn’t let himself react to it and just continues on.

“And when exactly did he make this appointment?” Peter asks nonchalantly before he can take a single step. Stiles turns back around with wide innocent eyes that would probably work better without the beard but whatever.

“About a week ago?” Stiles hums thoughtfully. “On Tuesday afternoon if I recall well. Why? Is there a problem, sir?”

“Ah, you must be the consultant for the Whittemore case then.” Stiles doesn’t confirm or deny, giddy with the knowledge that this may work out in the end even if it isn’t exactly what he planned in the beginning. “I’m afraid that Mr. Argent has taken some days off due to extenuating circumstances and he failed to inform you. I apologize for that, it was very unprofessional.”

“Oh, no harm done, they were extenuating circumstances, after all.” Stiles waves it off. “We can reschedule for when he comes back then.”

“No need, no need! I’m taking on some of his cases until then, and as it happens, the Whittemore’ is one of them. I can pencil you in right now so I hope this at least makes up for the oversight.”

(Crap, Stiles doesn’t trust that congenial smile one bit.)

Stiles plasters a bland smile on his face as he motions to Peter to lead the way and then, discarding the option of making a hasty retreat and the fun that would entail, he follows behind the man towards the one of the lighted offices. As he enters, he takes stock of the room quickly now that the man’s back is to him.

Peter Hale is clearly a fan of the minimalist trend because it’s a very spacious office with relatively few pieces of furniture and trichromatic (black, white and with silver here and there) in its composition. To the left and over a very tasteful but simple black rug, there’s a sitting area with two black leather couches, a big rectangular glass table in the middle of those and a library with law texts covering the entire wall beside the whole set. To the right, and again over a black but different rug, a slightly classic looking wooden desk (oak maybe?) with one of those ergonomic adjustable leather chairs behind and two other simpler but comfortable seeming chairs at the front. At the moment, there are stacks upon stacks of folders and paper on top of the desk, but seeing that even with that seer number of things on it it’s not in disarray, Stiles can bet that normally the man keeps it scrupulously organized. To finish, there are exactly four plants in the office, one on each corner, and little else in the way of decoration. But then again, the view from the massive window right in front of Stiles is more than enough decoration in and of itself.

“I’ll admit that I’m a little… perplexed by your presence here,” Peter states, voice mild as milk, as he takes a seat behind the desk. He makes an inviting gesture towards the chairs in front of it.

“How so?” he inquires just as silkily as he copies the man and accommodates on his seat. He then plasters a genial smile that is in equal parts amicable and challenging and Peter pauses for a nanosecond before he copies the gesture.

“Don’t take offense but the case is an open-and-shut one.” The man carries on, raising up to the challenge and issuing one of his own, and Stiles has a hard time containing a delighted grin. “Besides trying to get a lighter punishment, there’s not much else we can do when the boy got himself caught on tape doing the deed, so I don’t see what it is that you can… assist us with.”

“Well, and that’s exactly why you need my help,” he points out brightly, taking a pen from a holder on the desk and twirling it between his fingers skillfully. Peter’s smile acquires a dangerous edge and Stiles fights to not squirm on his seat at the wave of heat that it provokes on him. “No disrespect meant, of course, outside perspective and all that, you know.”

Stiles may not know the intricacies of what happened with Jackson Whittemore three weeks ago, but he still does know quite a bit because he buys the newspaper, thank you very much, and the society section is always filled with some incident or another of the upper crust of the city. Whittemore is an insufferable rich kid that is always in an on and off relationship with Lydia Martin because of how much of an asshole he is. However, while Stiles may not be able to stand him because of that shitty attitude, he has to concede that he’s also a generally good best friend to Danny Mahealani, who was frequently targeted because of his sexuality until Jackson started to forcefully shut mouths and not care about if it all ended up plastered on the newspapers or not. All of which leads him to believe that the incident of tree weeks ago outside a gay club (which Stiles has been to before, by the way) is less of a hate crime like the newspapers are selling and more of a Jackson stepping up to defend his friend and having the bad luck of just having had the tail end of it caught by the security cameras. So, all in all, he has enough knowledge of the case and of the inner workings of that club to spend at least a good fifteen minutes talking about it without giving the game away.

“Of course,” Peter answers blandly and Stiles shivers again at the tone before he forces himself to snap out of it. “You’re right. Mr. Argent and I may have missed something these three weeks we’ve been combing through all the evidence. A fresh pair of eyes could be all we need to make a breakthrough.”

Ok, Stiles has the self-preservation instincts of a newborn baby and a self-restraint to match, because he wants to climb Peter Hale like a tree right now. That sarcasm was beautiful.

“Exactly! That’s exactly the spirit,” he replies instead tracing his lips with the cap of the pen. Peter’s eyes follow the movement subconsciously and Stiles fights a smirk.

“And you come highly recommended too, so I’m sure your insight will be… priceless.”

“Well, why lie?” Stiles smiles and bites his lip as if he’s being bashful about how sure he is of himself. “I only leave satisfied customers behind so I’d say I’m well worth my fees.”

“That’s a very bold statement to make,” Peter points out as he leans on his chair with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m sure you understand that there’s a time to be bold and a time to be meek.” Stiles explains as he opens his legs a little further and leans on the armrest slightly. “I can be both, of course, because one has to be versatile in my line of work, but I tend to be more brazen when let to choose.”

“Ah,” Peter smirks and Stiles tenses in anticipation. “I can see that. Being forced to take a meek approach must be difficult for you, then.”

“Well, it’s always hard, of course, but it’s nothing that I can’t handle. I’ve been through harder situations than just having to control my natural urges-” he lifts his hand to tangle with the locks of hair at his nape at the same time that he mouths at the cap, as if in remembrance of something “-for the sake of the completion of a job.”

“That’s very professional, I’ll give you that, but with all due respect I still fail to see how your versatility can be of any use for me.”

“Well, that may be because you also fail to see that I’m not only versatile. I’m flexible, skillful and I have a lot of stamina, so it’s next to impossible to wear me down once I have my sight set on the goal. But then again, I don’t understand why am I here trying to sell my services to you when Mr. Argent already bought them.”

Peter remains silent, his eyes boring into Stiles’ with an intensity that leaves him nearly breathless. Then he rises up from the chair slowly and like a predator stalking his prey, he goes around the desk to stop in front of Stiles, who has to look up to maintain his defiant look.

“So,” he says insolently and nearly grins at the way Peter’s eyes darken dangerously. “How long are we going to draw this out, Mr. Hale? I’ve already told to you that my services are excellent and that you need them, but if you still have doubts I have no problem taking my business elsewhere. I assure you I have people lining up for my services.”

“You have quite the skillful tongue, I’ll give you that,” he replies silkily, as he advances the last couple of steps until Stiles has to lean back to look at his face.

“You have no idea,” Stiles answers cockily as he rises from his seat with as much grace as he can with Peter so close to him. The action leaves their faces at less than an inch from each other. “And that’s something that won’t change since now I’m the one reconsidering this whole agreement.”

And with that, Stiles turns to leave. Before he can take more than two steps, he’s grabbed and turned around. After a few disorienting seconds, he finds himself restrained against the desk with a hand pressing his neck firmly against the wood.

“And what the hell do you think you’re doing, Mr. Hale?” he snaps at the man.

“Well, as you said, your services have already been paid for-”

“By Mr. Argent.”

“Ah, but that’s the crux, isn’t it? Because if he bought your services for the company and this company is mine… I’m sure you can do the math, sweetheart.” Stiles glares at him and Peter chuckles, pulling him up and turning him around so he can press himself against Stiles’ front. Stiles who is still hard as a rock, gasps at the sensation and Peter smiles like a shark. “Besides, I never said I refused your services, I just said I failed to see their usefulness. But at this point, if it’s already been paid for, any use is better than none, right? In any case,” he smirks as he reaches to tangle a hand on Stiles’ hair, exactly at the spot where he had just done the same moments before to provoke Peter, “paid for or not, I have standards.”

“Wha-” Stiles splutters as Peter starts pushing him backwards.

“I like my twinks barefaced, sweetheart, so that scruff has to go if we’re going to make this experience at the very least tolerable.”

The next thing Stiles knows is that he’s sitting on the restroom’s countertop without his jacket and vest and that Peter is right between his legs tutting a subtle insult about his incompetence. He also has his face lathered up and a barber’s knife is touching his neck, brandished by said man. Ah, and the fear boner is definitely there in full swing. Peter may be possibly smirking too. Stiles would entertain the thought of an adequate answer if, well, he wasn’t too busy paying attention to the very sharp knife currently making its way tortuously slow towards his jaw.

“Well, so far I don’t see where the benefit is in here for me,” the man says loftily as he cleans the lather off the blade and Stiles closes his long legs to press him in as hard as he can in his position.

“I’d say you’re enjoying yourself so far, Mr. Hale,” he quips as he rolls his hips.

“It’s been more trouble than it’s worth so far, the way I see it,” the man smirks pressing harder, earning a shuddering jerk from Stiles. Then he retreats to turn Stiles’ face the way he wants it to make another pass and finish shaving him. When he has his face clean, Peter’s finger presses inside his mouth as he muses softly, “skillful tongue, hmm,” before grabbing his necktie and pulling him off the counter so he can turn him around and press against his back. “But I’m sure you will change that. Right, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mr. Hale,” Stiles grunts with thick sarcasm as he grounds his hips back, trying to get the reins back and failing.

Peter retreats suddenly and since he still has a firm grip on Stiles’ necktie, he has to follow him with as much grace as he can. He finds himself in the sitting area near the library and has to bend awkwardly when the man lets himself fall to sit on the couch without having a care about how he pulls Stiles with him when he does so. His intentions are clear though, when he pulls again and Stiles has to fall to his knees to relieve some of the pressure and this time it’s him between the other man’s legs.

“I suggest you’re thorough, sweetheart, because this is all the help you’re going to get,” Peter states cockily, softening his grip on the tie just enough to give him some space to maneuver.

“Ah, Mr. Hale, but we’ve already established that I’m a professional,” he smirks against his bulge, looking upwards to Peter’s eyes the way he knows every man likes, “so of course I came prepared.”

There’s just a couple of seconds in which Peter stills and his eyes seem to burn with intensity before he’s being pulled up and into the man’s lap. Before he knows it his trousers are down, revealing nothing underneath, which prompts a growl out of Peter. Then he’s being maneuvered into straddling him and fighting to not laugh because this tastes like victory already.

Stiles locks his eyes into Peter’s before he smirks and reaches behind himself to grab him, enjoying Peter’s sharp intake of breath at the action. Then he lowers himself tortuously slow, making sure to pause and squeeze every couple of seconds before resuming his way. By the time Peter is fully sheathed he’s clearly fighting for control if the way his fingers are digging into Stiles’ hips is any indication.

Stiles hums with satisfaction and bites his lip before he smiles challengingly. Then he starts grounding his hips in slow circles, wondering when the man’s control will snap. Peter’s eyes promise a gruesome retribution but Stiles just laughs in his face and makes no move to hasten his pace.

Stiles should have known better.

Suddenly, Peter lets go of his hips to grab at Stiles’ hair and pull his head back with one hand and to slip the other between his butt cheeks. Stiles jerks at the sensation and groans when teeth find his nipple through his shirt.

“You dirty cheater,” he groans biting his lip to prevent a louder noise from escaping him.

“All is fair in love and war,” Peter replies a little out of breath but way more in control that he should have any right to. In response, Stiles tries to go the other route to regain the upper hand and quickens his pace. “Ah, ah, ah,” Peter tutts. “And you where doing so well… Slow it down, sweetheart, there’s no rush.”

Stiles arches and whines softly when Peter presses him tighter to himself, adding another friction to his already overloading senses. He tries to go harder again but Peter’s hold doesn’t let him. He glares at the man and he gets a smirk in response. And no, this is not happening. Stiles is not going to suffer through this indignity alone. Either they both win or they both lose.

With that in mind, he twists his hips sharply, making sure to squeeze as hard as he can. Peter curses, tightening his grip, and Stiles laughs breathlessly.

“Peter,” he whines softly in his ear as he squeezes once again.

Peter curses lowly again, becomes taut as a coiled spring, and jabs a vicious finger in revenge that has Stiles shuddering as much as he is. Then they both collapse gasping for breath.

Several minutes later, Peter huffs a laugh and presses a kiss into Stiles’ sweaty shoulder. “Don’t tell me this is why you were growing that beard.”

“It was completely necessary,” Stiles replies into his neck pouting as he swats at his arm weakly.

“Well, I’ll admit that I enjoyed shaving it immensely,” Peter laughs and Stiles waves a there-you-have-it gesture at him, still too spent to move. “But you’re still a dork, sweetheart.”

“Happy birthday, love,” Stiles murmurs turning to look at him with a loving smile. “I’m sure you’ll love my other present.”

“I will, hmm?” Peter hums before kissing his husband softly. “And what could possibly top this?”

“Well, that’s impossible,” Stiles jokes and Peter snorts, “but I’m sure it comes as close as it could possibly be because I know you’ve been really pissed off about that missing recording.”

Peter freezes.

“As in- How in the hell- You can’t mean Jackson’s-”

“Yeah, that recording,” Stiles says smugly before exploding into guffaws right afterwards at the man’s gobsmacked expression.

(Spolier alert: Peter silences his laughter easily enough.)

If you’ve liked this, I invite you to read it once more now that you know that Stiles was role playing to fully appreciate the extent of his dorkiness XD.

Also, kudos to anyone that got that tiny Stiles dressed as a cop to get his batman figure back and that the only reason he got inside was because everyone was too busy laughing/being surprised/trying to find a camera to record it.

“We just realized that we have you doing two classes at once, so we’ll have someone else do the planner class while you do the party since we don’t want you getting overwhelmed. I’m sorry, we’re doing that a lot lately.”

Okay, A-

The planner class has ONE person signed up for it and she may not even show. The party has at least ten kids, all of which are definitely showing. But sure. Giving me the one that’s definitely going to have more people is apparently the less overwhelming option.

And B-

For you to notice that maybe I might be a little overwhelmed, it took the realization that you had me covering shifts for three different people, forgetting that we had an event that’s been on the calendar for three months, four reschedulings, and a rant. 

Just because I am capable of handling this kind of workload doesn’t mean you should be scheduling me back to back 8.5 hour shifts of it. 

Take It Back - Dean x Reader x Sam

Written For: Impossible Prompt Challenge

Prompt: It licked me

Warnings: none

Y/n had gone to the local farmers market with her boyfriends brother Sam, Dean had no interest in going. He was happy to stay at the bunker working on Baby, so she and Sam went alone. “I’m really happy you came with me today Y/n, the last time I brought Dean here he acted like a four year old” Sam said. “I know how that goes, I made him go with me to a fruit market and he was okay, he just didn’t want to be there and it showed” she said. “Not saying I didn’t get the same way when he dragged me to a car show” she said, “yeah same here” Sam said. Y/n heard a small barking, she turned around and saw a bunch of puppies for adoption. “Oh Sam look at the little babies” she said happily running towards the pups. “Shit, Y/n no Dean hates dogs” Sam said, she picked a puppy up, “how can anyone hate this cute wittle face” she said. “He is cute, Y/n I love dogs, but Dean has never liked them” he said sadly, “well I love dogs, this is the first time I haven’t had a dog since I was born, so Dean’s just gonna have to deal with it” she said. Sam rolled his eyes knowing what he was in for when he brought Dean’s girlfriend home with a puppy. Y/n adopted the puppy naming him Gizmo, she and Sam stopped at the store to get dog food. While she got dog food, Sam ran and got two pies one apple and one cherry, trying to get back on Dean’s good side. Sam and Y/n pulled into the garage and Sam was relieved to not see Dean working on Baby. “Come on Giz, let’s go see your new home” Y/n said, Sam blinked and took a deep breath to relax. Sam knew Dean would blow his lid when he saw that puppy. “Here you hold Gizmo, I’m going go soften up the big guy” she said. She found Dean in the bedroom they shared, “hey Dean” she said, “hey sweetheart, you and Sammy have fun” he said. “Yeah we did but there’s something I have to tell you” she said, he sat up looking concerned. “Okay” he said, “you know how we talked about having a family together one day” she. He nodded, “family members come in all different types, some of them even have four legs and are covered in fur” she said. Dean saw the look of worry on her face, knowing what she’d done. He tried to stay calm, “please tell me you didn’t get a dog” Dean said. Just then Gizmo ran into the room, “not a dog a puppy” she said, she picked him up. Sam stopped at the door seeing his brother glare at him, “it’s not Sam’s fault Dean, I love dogs and I’ve always had one, I missed having one, please give him a chance” she said. Y/n gave Dean her best sad face including her best pouty lips, “it licked me” Dean said in an angry voice. He saw the sadness on Y/n’s beautiful face and he couldn’t bare to make her sad, “yeah, he can stay” Dean said. Y/n jumped into Dean’s arms hugging him tightly and kissing him all over, “thank you Dean, thank you” Y/n cried. Dean turned to Sam, “tell me there’s pie and whiskey” Dean said, “of course I knew you’d need it” Sam said.

Tags @rosie-winchester @nickiwinchester97 @jenkarev @spn-twd-smut @purplejellybean @deanjensengirlmaggie @queencflair @superbasementflower @notnaturalanahi @jensen-jarpad @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @plaidstiel-wormstache

@princessofhorrors

The Cello Player | Part 3

Brian x Reader/You
Third Person P.O.V
fluff/angst(???)
Summary: (Y/N) is a flute player who attends the same music university as Brian, a talented cello player. Their horribly strict conductor pairs them up to play many duet pieces for the upcoming concert as well as playing with the full orchestra. (Y/N) struggles with the heavy workload as Brian helps her through the stress.
2655 Words

Updated: 31st May 2017

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 

(x)

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Actual Game Concept I Really Want To Make: Dogmen

You might have seen some of my artwork concerning Dogmen at various points, but I don’t post it very often because I have a bit of a problem: I don’t actually have the art style I want for this?

Okay so, Dogmen is a story I’ve had rolling around in my head for a while. It used to be called Blasphemer’s Prayer exclusively, but THAT particular story only ended up being one part of the whole (which is what it will be).

So now it will be a Visual Novel, largely because my main strength is in writing (as silly as that sounds) and because people tend to complain that Visual Novels don’t have consequential choices or multiple endings, this game is gonna have multiple endings. Probably three or four (Unless I can figure out branches for more)

It is also gonna be a cosmic horror game. Well, kinda.

See, I’ve come to realize recently that a lot of my FAVORITE narrative games have really fun-to-hang-out-with characters (Undertale, Night in the Woods). And I really prefer writing characters who are fun to be around anyway. And probably super gay for each other.

They’re just very prone to horrible demises you see.

ACTUAL PREMISE OF THE STORY BELOW THIS LINE


One day, approximately five percent of the world’s male population suddenly turn into what’s later dubbed “dogmen”. They have absolutely no memory of their past lives, and they are prone into turning into even MORE horrible beasts that have bloodthirst. They seem to be completely invincible in either form.

This ends up throwing the world into chaos. Not too much at first; initially it’s thought the military can subdue the problem. But it doesn’t work. The world gradually falls apart.

You do NOT play one of the hapless humans in this. You play dogmen.

Note: Despite the fact they are CALLED dogmen, they are not all dogs, or even wolves. The term is intended in-world as a pejorative.

Spencer (Primary character) - Kangaroo. Avoided the first few months of the strife due to being hidden away in his basement by his parents. Has a fear of hurting others, often remorseful, but has a strong yearning to fix the world, somehow.

Arthur - Striped Hyena. Strongest of the group by nature, often crude, fell in love with a human girl and never had the chance to see her again. Has a hyena cackle, hates being made powerless.

Lance - Coyote. Was likely an old man before the change, has lots of wisdom and random knowledge from a life he doesn’t remember living. Likes to smoke, is often very quiet and would rather avoid conflict than anything.

Weasel - Weasel. He doesn’t have a name from a past life or anything so everyone just calls him Weasel. He’s the smallest of the group, excitable, and unusually optimistic given the circumstances.

Terrible, terrible things are going to happen to all of them.


Beyond this even stranger things happen than just men turning into beasts, some things only perceptible to the Dogmen, like The Machine, just barely in view to be nearly transparent, which covers the whole sky. Or the droning of the Other Place which can still be heard when they sleep, or the black ghosts which seem to take a keen interest when they transform.

Of course, sometimes the worst demons don’t come from the outside.


How BIG would this game be? The most recent treatment I came up with covers the entire story: a prologue and four chapters. However, given there are multiple paths, there will be entirely different stories when you get to chapter 3 depending on what you could do to finish the second chapter.

Each of the chapters could themselves be fairly lengthy. I originally wrote Blasphemer’s Prayer, which in this game would be one of the chapter 3 branches, for NaNoWriMo and still figure on having roughly the same plot. It will probably not be novel-length in the game, but each section should easily be the comparative size of a novella.


How much GAME would be in this game? I’m not certain at the moment; for now, I still largely expect it to be narrative-driven rather than something like being puzzle-driven on the side (w/instead maybe some light puzzle elements like Night in the Woods when the situation calls for it).

However, I DO know that people love their secrets, and they want to dig into games to find something everyone else missed. I think it should have secrets, probably BIG secrets.


Anyway I wrote all of that to tell you I don’t have the total skillset I would need to make the game I have in my head. Being an artist I do understand the difference between having a concept in your head and realizing it on the page are different things, but in this case I do have deficiencies I’d eventually need to overcome, such as:

  • Not being able to draw humans very well
  • Skewing toward cute art style more than effectively scary (not strictly a weakness, as I think mixing the two can create great effect, but I do still need More Scary for contrast)
  • Music (Especially wanting a cover of Ordinary World, or at least a very comparable song) and sound effects
  • Programming of other things
  • The fact this game would probably require a LOT of environments I wouldn’t be able to do all on my own
  • And, of course, testing

The primary thing I can do is write, and I am at least a competent enough artist I can still probably sell most of it. I might end up having to try and do as much of this as I can anyway; there’s ways around the other issues (such as free and royalty-free music, but I do believe having a composer would be really nice for everyone)

It’s currently still all in the planning stages (I have a novel to write, after all!) but this is the current shape of the project and I think, despite its potential size, it could actually be something I can do.

anonymous asked:

Drabble thought of fergie and Niall if Niall was in the UK and went to a football match of their favorite teams playing against each other. Fergie would give him shit for it when he got back I think I love love love your stories

It was four o'clock in the morning. The familiar chime of a FaceTime call was blaring from her phone on the nightstand. She didn’t want to answer it. She wanted to go back to sleep. She had to be at the office in a few hours even though it was the weekend. Whoever it was had been calling for the past ten minutes. She figured it was someone from back home, oblivious to the time difference.

When she saw who it was, she answered immediately.

“Niall Horan! It’s four o'clock in the fucking morning.” Georgina groaned into the phone.

His face came into view. A week’s worth of stubble had started to call his face home. A bright blue Chelsea jersey was tucked nicely underneath his grey coat. A paddy cap covered up his blonde hair and a genuine smile had formed across his face.

“Fergie!” He cheered already a bit tipsy.

“Horan, look at what time it is.” She said turning on the lamp at her bedside.

His brows pulled together in confusion as her face lit up on the screen.

“Where are you?” She asked seeing people standing behind him.

Niall pressed the button to take the screen from the front camera to the back. The beautiful green pitch of Stamford Bridge and a sea of blue jerseys came into view. Her stomach instantly did a flip as envy set in. She realized where he was at.

“You did not.” She said in disbelief.

“I’m sorry I called so early. I forgot about the time difference.” Niall said feeling bad. He cleared his throat before turning the camera back to him. “Wish you were here Fergs.”

“She finally pick up?” Jamie’s voice said off camera.

Niall looked over at him, “Yeah.”

Jamie popped his head into frame. “Hey babes! Wish you were here.”

“Dave’s here too.” Niall said scanning over to his right.

Dave blew a kiss to the screen before raising up the pint he had in his hand.

Georgina just glared at the screen.

“I’ve got Spurs socks on for ya.” Dave winked playfully.

“Not gonna do her any good. I’m feeling good about this one.” Jamie said.

“You just flew back just for the game?” Georgina said feeling a little sad. She wished she had the luxury to head back to England whenever she wanted. She missed her parents.

“Jamie’s brother had tickets he wasn’t going to use.” Niall said. “Figured why not.”

“Keith there too?” She asked.

“Nah with some bird in Malibu.” Dave said.

“Figures.” She yawned.

“Alright enough buggin ya.” Niall said. “Go back to sleep Fergie.”

“I’ve got to be at work in three hours.” She sighed. “I’m recording the game to watch it when I get back home. If any of you bastards spoil it for me, you will not hear the end of it. Got it?”

“We won’t ruin it for ya Georgie.” David said saluting her.

“Promise?” She said narrowing her eyes at them.

“Cross me heart.” Niall said as the other two men agreed.

“Are you guys gonna be here for Mags–” She started to say before Niall cut her off.

“We’ll be back in LA tomorrow afternoon.” He smiled. “Just came for the game.”

“Motherfuckers.” She mumbled shaking her head.

“Go to sleep love.” Niall said.

“Hope you lose.” She said sticking out her tongue.

Niall’s infectious laugh was the last thing she heard before ending the call.

Georgina spent the entire day off the grid. She turned off her notifications for all social media. She muted her WhatsApp groups. She stayed away from her phone until she got home.

She grabbed a salad and some wine, threw on her lucky jersey, and watched the game.

They lost. 3-1.

She was fine with them losing. They hadn’t played well at all. The part she didn’t like is who they lost to and that was only because she knew the boys were going to get their digs in when she saw them.

And she was right. As soon as she walked into Jamie and Mags’ house, the jet-lagged boys lounging on the couch started singing some of Chelsea’s chants. She flipped them all off before heading outside with the girls.

She grabbed a glass of wine and caught up on the newest gossip.

“Jamie’s little sister is pregnant.” Mags said causing the rest of the girls’ eyes lit up.

“By who?” Brittany asked.

“Not her fella. Some random bloke from school.” Mags smirked.

“Pregnant at fifteen? Fuck.” Jenna shook her head. “Is their mum mad?”

“Livid.” Mags said as she noticed the boys coming into the backyard.

“How’s he handling it?” Georgina asked nodding towards Jamie.

“He’s coming off as calm but I know he’s upset.” Mags said. “That’s part of the reason they went back. Being the oldest, he feels responsible for her.”

“He and Bobby wanted to have a talk with her about everything.” Mags whispered as the boys approached.

“Poor girl.” Brittany sighed.

“Fergie, are ya mad at us?” Niall asked sitting down beside her.

“You little shits flew all the way to fucking England just to watch a derby between Spurs and Chelsea and you want to know if I’m mad?” Georgina said raising her eyebrow.

“It was Niall’s idea.” Dave said throwing the Irishman under the bus.

“Was not!” Niall whined.

“It was mine.” Jamie said as he walked over towards Georgina. “I’m sorry you missed out.”

“It’s okay.” She said standing up to give the tall man a guy.

As she wrapped her arms around him, she whispered in his ear, “Heard about Lacey. I’m sorry. If she needs anything, I’m sure Mum would be more than willing to help out. Tutoring, day care, whatever.”

Jamie didn’t say anything. He simply placed a kiss on her forehead. He squeezed her tight letting her know he appreciated the offer.

Once he let go, Jamie turned to his girlfriend and told her he was going to start cooking dinner. Mags got up to get the meat out of the refrigerator.

Georgina sat back down on her seat and found Niall pretending to listen to some bull shit story Keith was telling. She did the same. As soon as a threesome was brought up, she tuned out.

“Fergie?” Niall whispered from beside her.

Georgina turned towards him. “I’m not talking to you.”

“Why?” He asked looking worried.

“You fucking went to Stamford Bridge yesterday just to watch a football match. That’s why.” She glared at him.

“I’m sorry I really am.” Niall sighed.

“And to top it off you woke me up at the arse crack of dawn to rub it in.” She mumbled making him laugh.

“I brought you back something.” Niall said getting up and running into the house.

She rolled her eyes. “Like a gift is gonna make me feel better.”

“I knew you’d be giving him shit.” Dave said catching her attention.

“Who calls someone at three in the morning to rub it in that they are watching the Spurs Chelsea game live?” Georgina said annoyed.

“So that was my fault. I didn’t take the time difference into account. I thought you’d be happy for us.” Dave blushed. “Ya know because we had been talkin bout how important that game was the other day.”

“Happy for what? That I was missing out? That you got to see Costa score a bloody hat trick? That you lot have moved up higher on the table?” She said annoyed.

“You were pretty shit yesterday.” Dave laughed. “So it was good you weren’t there. Imagine that flight home.”

“Brittany do I have permission to beat your boyfriend?” Georgina asked making the others laugh.

“As long as I don’t see it,” Brittany said getting up to help Mags.

Niall came back with a bag in his hand. He handed it over before sitting back down.

“If this is some type of Chelsea shit, I’m burning it.” She grumbled looking at him.

“You’ll like it.” Niall said. “I promise.”

Georgina reached into the bag and pulled out a jumper. When she realized what jumper it was, her entire face lit up. She was waiting for her next paycheck because she was going to buy it for herself.

“That’s the one you were looking at the other day, right?” Niall asked shyly.

“You’re such a little shit.” She blushed running her fingers across the words on the front. “But yes it is the one I wanted.”

“Good.” Niall smiled watching her try it on.

“Does that mean you’re still mad at us?” Dave asked sounding hopeful.

“You went to a bloody Chelsea Spurs game in England without me.” She said fixing her hair. “I’m still mad.”

“You can come to the next game with us.” Dave said before turning to Niall. “Right?”

“Of course.” Niall smiled.

Georgina shook her head before taking the jumper off. She placed it back on the bag.

“You got to see Hazard attempt a bicycle kick in real life.” She said looking over at Niall. “And I had to watch a recorded version.”

Niall laughed. “Fergie! Stop. I feel bad.”

“No I’m going to complain until I feel better.” She said sticking out her tongue childishly.

“In that case, don’t tell her who else was there.” Dave playfully whispered.

“Who was there?” She asked giving both boys a look.

“Geri Ha–” Niall started to say until Georgina hit his arm.

“Ginger Spice was not fucking there.” She said with an attitude.

“She was.” Dave said handing over his phone. On the screen was a picture of the three boys with the red headed pop star.

“Shut the fuck up.” Georgina said taking a closer look at the photo.

“She’s lovely.” Dave smiled.

“You guys are fucking assholes.” Georgina whined as she gave the phone back.

“You liked Ginger or was that Sophie?” Dan asked sliding his phone back in his pocket.

“That was Soph.” Georgina sighed.

“I didn’t know you were a Spice Girl fan.” Niall said impressed.

“I was a British girl who grew up in the 90s of course I loved them.” She said offended by his question.

“Stop making her angry Niall.” Dave said hitting Niall’s arm.

“I’m not trying to.” Niall whined holding the spot that David had hit.

“Oi oi!” Brittany called from the house. “We need Fergie and Niall.”

Georgina stood up with the bag in her hand waiting for Niall to join her. As the headed to the house, he cleared his throat.

“You know why we went?” Niall asked in a hushed tone.

Georgina nodded. “Mags told us.”

“I pulled a few strings and got us on a private jet so we’d get there quicker.” He admitted shyly. “Just trying to be a good mate.”

“So for him you rent out a private jet and take him to a derby but for me you wake me up at four in the morning on a Saturday. We’ve got a great friendship.” Georgina said dryly.

His face turned a slight shade of pink. “Fergie…”

“I’m kidding Horan.” She said. “That was really sweet of you.”

“They are all taking it hard.” Niall said as they reached the back door.

“Well makes sense. After what happened to his dad, I can imagine that he feels he’s to blame.” Georgina said as Niall opened the door for her.

“He does. He shouldn’t because she knew the consequences of unprotected sex. They teach it in school.” Niall said.

“Yeah but she’s just a kid though.” Georgina sighed. “Shit happens.”

“It’s gonna be a tough nine months.” Niall said as they made their way to the kitchen.

“Tell me about it.” Georgina mumbled.

As soon as they got into the kitchen, they were put work. They were in charge of making mashed potatoes. Niall cleaned and peeled them while Georgina cut and mashed them.

“So, do you like the jumper?” Niall asked as he handed over a potato.

“I was waiting until I got paid to get it.” She said starting to cut it.

She cleared her throat, “Thanks for getting it for me.”

“Am I off the hook?” He asked shyly.

Georgina just shrugged. “Dunno.”

“What if I get us tickets to the Galaxy game next week?” He asked.

“Really?” She asked looking at him.

“Yeah I can talk to Robbie and see if there are any available.” He said nonchalantly.

“Let me just talk to my bloody famous football friend to see if we can get tickets to his game on Friday. Hopefully the box will have lobster tails and filet mignon with wine from Italy.” Georgina mocked playfully. “Maybe we’ll take the helicopter to get there.”

“You’re such a brat.” He blushed fiercely.

“Maybe you’ll remember to take me with you next time you’re headed to London.” She said with a smirk.

“I will.” He smiled. “I promise.”

Georgina leaned in close. “And if you ever wake me up at four o'clock in the morning on a Saturday again, I will hunt you down and pummel you.”

Niall laughed making her smile.

“I knew you liked it rough.” He winked making her entire body grow warm.

Georgina rolled her eyes before getting back to work. He was going to be the death of her.

archiveofourown.org
Blending Blue and Red -- Sarumi Fest 2017
K Project ~ Sarumi ~ Sarumi Fest 2017
By Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Blending Blue and Red

AO3: Blackheart22
Word Count: 2498
Rating: General Audience 
Relationship: M/M; Sarumi
Chapter: 1/1
Tags: Fushimi Saruhiko, Yata Misaki, sarumi fest 2017, metaphorical, not much action but bleh, but it's still good, fluff, marriage
Summary: “Tearing my eyes away, I went to open up my binder when something caught my eye. Red stood out against the blue of the sky and when I squinted, the red had turned into a surfboard that was propped up in the white sand. The contrast in colors almost made me cringe, especially when red was not of my least favorite colors. It’s too bright, lively, fiery to be put into a calm drawing; it’s the complete opposite of my favorite color, which is incidentally blue, and fought against my forcefully maintained aesthetic. The color was just unwanted but there it was, standing out in the pale sand and against the surrounding blues.
Notes: This was originally intended to be called “5… 4…. 3… 2… 1…” because each section is based of random words (first section five words, etc) but I decided that “Blending Blue and Red” would be a better title. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated due to the fact that I edited this myself. Also, this may be my only entry for SarumiFest 2017 but that might change, we just have to wait and see :) Enjoy!!

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The Difficult Kind - 1

Summary: When Killian Jones accidentally stumbles into Emma Swan’s undercover FBI investigation, first impressions are anything but good. Once the smoke clears, they never expect to see each other again. But with a common enemy and the stakes higher than ever, they quickly discover working together is the only choice. That goes rather poorly too – until it doesn’t. CS AU. 


Rating: M (for a reason) 

Author’s note: To quote a reader, this one is a bit “grittier” than what you may be used to from me. There is some dubious consent and moral ambiguity, so if that’s not your thing, this isn’t for you. @oubliette14​ made me the gorgeous graphic and has been invaluable along with @kliomuse​ for brainstorming and beta duties. Much love, ladies! 

Also on ff.net and ao3 

______

“Well done, dearie.”

Killian sketched a mocking bow, allowing himself just the proper amount of disrespect to keep character without losing life or limb. “I’m a man of my word.”

“Indeed.” Gold considered him from his spot behind a massive desk, his fingers forming a steeple as if in thought, though Killian knew from experience any thoughts the wretched man had were sinister at best. A long moment of tense silence followed, not a soul in the room daring to so much as breathe too deeply.

Including the frightened-looking girl standing at Gold’s elbow in a poor excuse for a dress, the hem barely long enough to cover the essentials. Her name was Emily, and that was all he knew – even the dignity of a last name was denied her. Beyond that, Killian knew what everyone else knew: the girl belonged to Gold.

The taste of bile on his tongue, Killian waited until Gold’s lips twisted into what passed for a smile. “Well, as it turns out, I’m a man of my word as well. I did promise it would be worth your while if you came through.”

“Your payment was generous, though hard be it for me to refuse your gratitude.” He turned up the charm, ignoring the heavy thud of his racing heart. The last thing he wanted was to be standing in front of such a monster, dueling with quips and barbs. He had much larger concerns, but he needed to maintain his access to come and go as he pleased.

Someone’s life depended on it.

“Yes, it was, wasn’t it? See, this is what I like about you, Charles. Criminals these days, they lack manners. They don’t understand a man’s word is his currency no matter his station in life. But you, you understand.” Gold smiled at him, a reptile in a suit. “Given your excellent execution of your task, allow me to extend my hospitality. Emily is yours for the evening.” The girl showed no reaction, her eyes on the floor even as Gold gave her a none too gentle push in Killian’s direction, her tangled blonde locks spilling over her shoulder as she nearly lost her balance in her heels.

Killian swallowed, his thoughts scrambling for a response. Of all the things Gold could have offered him, the barely legal girl who was either his prisoner, or his whore, or both, was the last thing he wanted any part of.

“If rumor is to be believed, a man once lost his hand for merely touching her,” he finally said, relieved to have found a plausible excuse. “I hate to think what I might lose should you change your mind. I’m rather fond of all my parts, you see.”

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anonymous asked:

About the book openings: you have to remember that a big part of Animorphs Kid Culture was never, ever having access to all of the books at any one time. Also, these are aimed at elementary and middle schoolers, who have a tendency to pick the one with the best cover and go from there. The recaps are important because seven year olds can't be trusted to start with book one, and even if they could the chances of your local library having them all were pretty much zip. I read 19 before 5.

My four lovely anons, I am lumping you together because I feel like probably my responses would overlap quite a bit and also I’m not sure how many different times people want to read me babbling about book structure.

But, a few thoughts in response to all these excellent points:

  • This all makes sense!  I think.  I love the description of children as chaos agents but I myself, at least after I grew out of toddler-hood, never really was one.  For a variety of reasons, I was an Order Muppet from a very young age, and reading a book series out of order would definitely have been Very Upsetting to me.  I think I might possibly have been able to skip some books as long as I kept moving forward chronologically, but jumping all around the timeline would have given me hives.  However, I gather that most children are not the control freaks that Little Me was, and so  it makes perfect sense that they might pick up the books in whatever order. 
  • The Baby-Sitters Club was exactly what I was thinking of - well, that and also the Sweet Valley books.  I read a lot of both of those series (in order, thank you VERY much) and I do remember them doing the same constant-recapping.  Please, Elizabeth tell me yet again about your goddamn twin sister and how you are NOT AS ALIKE AS YOU LOOK, I didn’t get that the first forty times.  (Although on the BSC tip, let’s be real, I would have read an endless series of recaps of Claudia Kishi’s wardrobe, I live in the hope that What Claudia Wore will post again one day.)
  • I do think it’s interesting to note what different characters focus on, and I’m sure it will be interesting to see how that changes as we roll through our narrator rotation again.  Character growth is a delightful thing and I am perpetually here for it.
a rush of blood to the head

It isn’t a big deal.

Really, it isn’t.

Okay, maybe it is a little bit of a big deal, considering the entire affair ended with you laying unconscious with a head injury and you had to be taken to hospital in an ambulance.

But you really feel that all of the fuss has been wildly misplaced. After all, it’s only a little blood, only a minor black out. People endure worse on benders in Shoreditch, and no one is making a big deal of those experiences.

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