even if it is four different covers

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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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

“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. 

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.

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.

“But that means you’d be losing money on this sale...!”

Helping a customer while she’s looking at duvet covers. She’s the type of customer who doesn’t necessarily need help shopping, but she keeps talking to you anyway because she… well… likes someone to talk to.

She stops when she gets to this particular blue duvet cover - it’s a textured style that has this stretchy bubble ruching all over the top, which makes the comforter look fuller on the bed. She stops and begins explaining, “I bought this duvet cover a few months back, and I love your products, but I’ve never been more disappointed with one of your products than with that cover. It’s just huge. I bought the queen size for my queen sized comforter, and I swear it must hang at least five inches extra on both sides of the comforter. The comforter just swims inside the cover. Oh! I’m just sooo disappointed…”

She goes on like this for twenty minutes, going onto other topics and then coming back to how disappointed she is with that bubble duvet cover. I look at her and suggest, “Why don’t you just return it?” The woman looks at me in shock, “…I can do that?” I’m thinking, Psssh, yeah. Everybody else does. “Yeah, just let me see if I can find your purchase in our system (I was able to), and we’ll give you a store credit for the amount you paid. You can then use that credit towards buying a duvet cover you’d be more happy with - like that daisy pattern you were looking at earlier.”

The woman’s eyes widen, “…but I’ve been using the cover. I’ve washed it, but I’ve been using it. You’ll still take it back?”

”Yeah, I mean… we won’t resell it. You bought it eight months ago. We’re not going to resell it. It’s just going to go away…”

She pauses, looks at me (still somewhat in shock) and adds, “…but that means you’ll be losing money on that sale, right? I mean, if I return it, use the credit to buy a new cover, and then my old cover just gets sent to trash. Your company will be losing money.” 

“I suppose that’s true. However, you seem to be really unhappy with your prior purchase, so this is what we can do for you so you’ll go home with a product you’re happy with.” The woman was so incredibly happy that this was an option for her. I was still terribly amused that it never occurred to her that she could return the cover even after having used it… hell, we’ve had enough people use bedding for nearly a decade and return it expecting they’ll get their money back or be able to exchange it for replacements.

Sometimes it’s refreshing to offer such services for customers who seemingly don’t expect they’ll get those benefits.

The woman is suuuuper chatty though. She stopped in again today, and she talked with four different associates before coming to a decision on her purchase. She’s pretty nice. Just a little time consuming.

What do you think about when you hear the word sex?

For most, I bet it’s the moaning.
The golden lining of waists and hips being mined for the first time.

For some, it might be the kissing.
Their lips softer than the nights before.
Their lips rougher than the nails gripped into your back like #2 pencils finding comfort in old manual sharpeners versus new electronic ones. You have to work for it, right?

Some soft, some rough.
Some sweet good morning,
some angry after an argument.
Some with laughter,
some after tears.

The sweating that gives you the thought
“is this mine or is it hers?”

What is the best part about sex?

I bet most would say, the orgasm.

It is not.

Far from it.

I.) The build up, the foreplay, & the tension.

The selfish and selfless teasing.
The lowkey this is exciting smile.
The faces losing control
of all expression.
The bodies soft movements
between hands
gently moving to
where it doesn’t belong
to where you want them.

II.) The aftermath, the cuddle & the nap.

The wave of euphoric desires
long passed and you’ll sleep
as teaspoons and sugar cubes.
Simmering in a new cup of tea;
warm and added milk.
Your relaxed bodies stirring
the feelings of home, safety
and your favorite song,
your bodies at rest
and them in your arms;
all mixed into a warm
cup of tea composed of
wet bedsheets and
not knowing whose
arm is whose and
whose leg was hanging
off the bed because
it was way too hot
and sweaty under
the blanket.

You see, the act of sex.
The in between.
The hair grabbing.
The scratched backs.
The chest needing attention.
The necks because we’re vampires.
The hands not knowing where to feel next.
The tug of war motion.
The cramps from running marathons
while laying down.
The sweat from jogging a bridge in the middle of winter because the fan is on, but it sure feels like summer even if your windows are open and the rain covers the sounds of passion.
The sweat is confusion and peace finding a home on top of your skin.
The giggles because they made a cute mistake and it’s one you could live with.
It’s one that was needed from your long day.
The tears if you’re a first timer.
The warmth of how bodies join together;
your body’s way of holding hands.
Your innocence shaking hands and hugging sin for minutes and lasting up to four hours for some; or the whole day.
However your drive goes.
It’s different for everyone,
women to men,
women to women,
& men to men.
It matters not.

The middle part is not the best.
It is a blur. It is the bottle not the liquor.
It is the pill and not the chemicals inside.
It is the lamp and not the light provided.
It is the candle and not the scent given off.
It is the blue line of college rule paper,
but not the words written by a writer.
It is crucial, but it is also
the part where most get lost in.
I know I did.

Have you?

They call it lust.

The misplacement of trust
and the lack of communication.

The longing for skin
more than that person’s heart.

It’s more than reaching down their pants
or failing to unhook her bra
because you could never wrap
your head around the mechanics
of such a wonderful invention.

I know some men might read this
and go; god, this guy is soft.

Aight, go ask her right now. Go.
Ask her to name the best part.

It wasn’t how your tongue
could spell the alphabet
backwards, okay that’s
pretty dope,
but she’ll always
put foreplay and
cuddling above it.

Well, unless she’s a freak,
but I’m sure they love
the embracing parts too.

Who doesn’t want to feel safe
after being that open?
That vulnerable?
That honest?

To truly share yourself with someone
from heart, mind, soul and body;

If you can make them feel safe afterwards,
the orgasms will only be a minor detail

to this perfect painting they call making love.

I promise.

—  Sex, cuddling and never unhooking bras, correctly.
// k.c.

Ironqrow things I enjoy:

  • Seeing other Ironqrowers use the Jim/Jimmy/James pattern
  • The fact that every au that has Penny and Ruby in it immediately introduces them before doing anything else
  • People exploring James’ prosthetics and his relationship with them instead of just rehashing the same headcanon every single time
  • The fact that everyone in every fic basically agrees that James is just really really handsome
  • Seeing other Ironqrowers use the tree joke
  • That Professor Trollpin faded before it got a chance to get old, and is a pervading but altogether minor trope
  • People who remember that Glynda and James are actually very close despite her exasperation with his crush on her
  • Winter and everything about her
  • When James bonds with Yang and Ruby/Qrow bonds with Penny
  • People giving James and Qrow hobbies outside of the things we can infer from their on-screen presentation
  • Seeing other Ironqrowers use the oblivious James headcanon
  • The variety of headcanons that everyone comes up with and the diversity of genres coming out of a very small group
  • Seriously, there’s a handful of us and in sixty-five works, we’ve managed to cover a wide variety of ground and I think that’s really cool!
  • How even in mundane au’s the technology is advanced enough for cybernetic enhancements and that’s just a thing and everyone just accepts it even if literally everything else about the setting makes it seem like it takes place now and we haven’t quite reached that point yet
  • That people stretch out the four or five inch height difference between James and Qrow every. single. time.
  • Seriously I love Winter in Iron Qrow stories just please put her in every Iron Qrow ever I’m begging you
Tourney of Lannisport

Imagine Jorah Mormont crowning you the Queen of Love and Beauty.

(Anon requested a Jorah/Reader story. I’m sorry this is shorter than most any one shot ive ever written. I’m still getting Jorah’s personalit/character down)

(Word Count: 1,460)

“He is a Northern Lord, the Lord of Bear Island.” You didn’t care about whatever it was your friend was saying from her place beside you. For one, you already knew everything she was saying and secondly, all you cared about was how impressive Lord Jorah Mormont looked on his horse winning tilt after tilt. Dressed in simple armor with a surcoat displaying the bear sigil of his House, maybe he wasn’t the most handsomest but he didn’t look any less a Knight than all the others that had competed.

Keep reading

2

Parkbeg, SK
8 june 2016

This is post 1,000 for This Here Light. It’s funny how you sometimes start down a road just to have something to fill the long hours and you find the things you’ve carried around in you for all your life waiting along the way. It’s been four years of mining the gravel roads. Of ice covered secondary highways. Of rich green coulees and fields of flowering Canola that stretch on beyond even my own imagining. 

What happens when you let go and try to understand something so different than yourself? You move away from who you were but you never become wholly what you move towards. You get caught in a sort of limbo where you don’t fit where you started and you don’t fit where you are. Maybe that’s okay though. Some people are living their lives everyday and some people are fascinated to watch them live. 

anonymous asked:

ok hear me out here, i'm not saying pairing a victim of abuse with an abuser justified or it should be taken lightly for any reason, but it certainly does explain why all those k@rahells think their ship is #goals. They've probably been or even are on an abusive relationship and just think it's normal. I repeat, it doesnt justify their condoning or encouraging abuse but it really makes understand why it happens and just pray for them to find smth better.

that’s what i think too. either that or society has normalized this sort of relationship for them and no one ever taught them better. it’s also scary to think that these people could be showing their kids this as healthy or even worse they could be abusing people like this too

T Feature: Superstardom -- Kris Wu

T MAGAZINE OCTOBER 2016

During these two years, Kris Wu has showcased to us
His extraordinary points, as a singer, as an actor,
As an idol representing this generation.

In the special issue of T Magazine’s October issue,
We present, in modern day China,
One of the most popular young idols - Kris Wu

On a summer evening, at the Huangpu river in Shanghai, in a place I have been to at least a hundred times, a studio where I had shot countless of celebrities before, but this evening it was somewhat a little different. During the weekends, young people could be seen lounging around the empty lobby, some even sitting by the steps at the roadside. These young people’s faces had no traces of agitation or restlessness, and they merely sat there quietly, from time to time gathering in groups of three to five to chat. Like the parents waiting daily outside schools to fetch their children, the waiting made them feel at ease.

They waited for at least four to five hours, as they had been waiting for their “child” Kris Wu, who was upstairs getting his makeup done, followed with the cover shoot for this issue.

Such a scene is commonplace in Kris Wu’s world.  As one of the most popular young idols currently, his every song and movie is able to create social impact, and his every public appearance is able to generate a crowd as intense as roaring flood waters. Before knocking and opening the dressing room door, I had thought up several exaggerated scenarios, but instead was greeted with the sight of a coffee table packed with packaged takeout boxes. After a polite exchange of greetings, handshake and introduction (“I am Kris Wu.”, he said – as if he had a need to), Kris Wu merely requested gently to the nearby staff for water, not taking a glance at the tableful of takeout dinner. He leaned on the sofa with his arm on it as support, and invitingly gestured for me to take a seat. After which, he chose a suitable position, sitting side by side next to me, and at the same time letting me see his 45 degrees look which turns thousands of fans into a frenzy.

Although it was summer, he was currently sporting a thick woollen coat (later on found out that he was dressed in this manner because the air conditioning was too cold, and the remote could not be found at that moment). Dressed in only black and midnight blue, his look was extremely befitting that of a “cold pretty boy” type of character from a shojo manga – until the next moment, when he noticed the Apple watch I was wearing was encased in a casing with Mickey Mouse ears, like the young guys his age, 25 year old Kris Wu let out a curious yet joyful expression.

His name may be “Yi Fan (ordinary)”, but this 1.87m tall, solemn-eyed, slender-fingered boy is anything but. Of course, he was not merely inherently born with good looks. During the interview, he was quick in response, with logic and clarity. He maintained a fast but uniform pace of speech, his voice loud and clear, answering sincerely with self confidence, and in full.

On the second day of this interview, the adapted film of popular youth novel <Sweet Sixteen> premiered in theatres. Rebellious but righteous Xiaofei in <Mr Six> and passionate, sunny Cheng Zheng who had everything he wanted in <Never Gone> all reflected bits of Kris Wu himself. But as for “Xiamu”, Kris Wu admitted when when he was young, his personality was “more alike to Xiamu’s”. “When I was young I was an introverted child, and didn’t like talking much. Xiamu is a kid who keeps to himself, and is withdrawn. The young me is probably a little like that, of course that was when I was very young, when I grew up I wan’t like that any more.”  He said, <Sweet Sixteen> was it was more of a “film of crime and romance” and not so much a “film of youth”.  "Personally, I feel that this is a more alternative genre of youth film, as it is extremely dark. It’s….really good.“

<Mr Six> re-introduced us to Kris Wu as an actor. However, the success of “Xiao Fei” is not mere coincidence nor specially created for him. “Xiao Fei’s head of silver-white hair is my contribution to the appearance of the character. Other than that, I am solely, to the best of my ability, performing according to the script, and aiming to portray the character well.“ Be it facing the script or being on set in person, Kris Wu has always maintained a "student”’s attitude. “Films are an actor’s artistic creation. It is an actor’s duty to fulfil the director’s request to the best that they can.”

An actor – Kris Wu right now already has enough confidence to describe himself as such. During these two years after returning to China to develop his career, Kris Wu who started off as a singer has taken on the challenge of different characters, role after role, exploring his potential as an actor. Is this something that came about as of late? Or was it as a result of his most initial dream? “It’s because since young I have had an interest in filming!” Kris Wu replied firmly, “Even before receiving movie offers, I have expressed in interviews that I "hoped to become an actor.” This is also why in the short span of these few years I have managed to film so many movies, as acting has completely filled up my schedule.“

What is the greatest joy that acting has given him? "The most meaningful area,” he said, “Is that when the character that I portray appears on the big screen, there will be people who like the character, like the movie because you played that role – and not because you are Kris Wu.” He describes the genre of films that he is into lately as the “mind-boggling” type. “The best would be those where I do not understand after watching it the first time, and would need to ponder it repeatedly, and finally looking up all kinds of hidden meanings online…”

As an actor, in Kris Wu’s own words, one has to “follow instructions very closely”, and on set, do everything according to the director’s orders. “The director is the soul of each movie. As an actor, what I need to do is to become a blank piece of canvas before the director, letting him paint and decorate.” He said, “At any point in time, I will submit myself to the director.” Upon meeting the bold and imaginative Tsui Hark, Kris Wu started to feel the fresh joy of personal creativity. In the film <Journey to the West: Demon Chapter> produced by Stephen Chow and directed by Tsui Hark, Kris Wu acted as the role of “Tang Seng”. “Lao Ye ("Elder Master” - referring to Tsui Hark) has given me much freedom, usually he would just let me portray the character in my style. He is extremely supportive of me to try out more [ways of character portrayal]. Trying out more may result in reaping unexpected results.“

<Valerian>, directed by Luc Besson, is an international film which Kris Wu participated in, and was his first time acting in a science fiction movie. Kris Wu said, he recalled that the director had brought up several times, if <The Fifth Element> was a director’s initial cut trailer, and <Lucy> was the final trailer, now would be the time for the actual movie, and that film would be <Valerian>. The film is an adaptation of Luc Besson’s favourite comic, starring supermodel-turned-actress Cara Delevingne and Hollywood "fresh meat” Dane DeHaan, with an unusual, extraordinary guest lineup which includes pop diva Rihanna and jazz musician Herbie Hancock.

On this film set, Kris Wu experienced the excellent efficiency and prompt scheduling of an international production. He affectionately called Luc Besson “Director Luc”. “Director Luc has invested an enormous amount of effort into this film.” On the topic of Luc Besson, Kris Wu, born when <Nikita> premiered, revealed that he was a long-time fan of Besson. <Leon: The Professional> is one of my favourite films.“ He said, "When I watched <Fifth Element> I was very young, upon seeing some of the aliens, I had felt that it was close to being a horror film. Director’s imagination knew no bounds, his use of colours and music and grasp of visuals are far too astounding for all.” At this point, Kris Wu once again brought up Director Tsui Hark’s name. “They all have extraordinary imaginations, they’re really gifted.”

When the casting of <Journey to the West: Demon Chapter>, directed by Tsui Hark, was officially revealed, everyone was surprised – Why was Kris Wu acting the role of Tang Seng? In fact, Kris Wu’s reply was, “To everyone, this role is perhaps rather strange, but I beg to differ. Honestly, I have been waiting to take on different roles which are full of challenges, and right now the opportunity has come, so I’m really glad. What has excited me the most is that I am able to work with Director Tsui Hark and Producer Stephen Chow once again, which is a highly valuable learning experience to me.” As for how he would describe his portrayal of the role of “Tang Seng”, Kris Wu said that he hoped that he could create something “fresh and never-before-seen” – “Hope that he’ll be cute!”

After developing his career in China for two years, starring in several movies, singing a few melodic movie theme songs, we practically lost sight of Kris Wu as a singer. However, this autumn, the Kris Wu who loves hip hop music is back. He said, for his upcoming new songs, he will be releasing new and fresh tunes. “This time, everyone will be listening to the music genre which I really love. It won’t really be the same as the last time.”

Hip hop music is the reason Kris Wu entered the industry. Growing up through his teenage years in Canada has led him to like this genre of music. “Because I love playing basketball, that’s why I came into contact with hip hop music. At that time, my friends who played basketball with me all listened to hip hop and rap, and I was influenced by them to take a liking to that genre of music. Hip hop is not only a genre of music, but even more so, it is a lifestyle, which includes basketball, street culture, R&B music… I grew up under the influence of this culture, and the music I like is largely associated with this lifestyle.” He shared with me the recent songs he was really into. Drake and Travis Scott were two of his all time favourite musicians, and both recently released new albums. “Especially Drake, since his debut many years ago till now, I’ve kept up with every album that he has released.”

During these couple of years, a large amount of time was spent on making films and trying out even more possibilities, but now that Kris Wu is finally able to return to the world of music which he passionately loves, he hoped to showcase one simple thing: ‘Myself’. “When filming movies, what you portray is the role you act, it is something which the director wants that character to manifest. But when it comes to music, I have one hundred percent freedom to express myself. Kris Wu in his most original essence – this is what I want to convey in my music. What I myself love, more than anything else.”

After the interview. we still ended up talking about what he loves the most, basketball. Kris Wu, who previously had the dream of becoming a professional basketball player, has a genuine and serious love for the sport. “Basketball is really fun!” Talking about his favourite sport, the way of speech that he had shown during the interview disappeared in an instant. “It feels really good after playing for two hours and sweating a whole lot. As long as I don’t end work too late, and am not too tired, I will play basketball.” He had gone to play basketball the night before this interview, and continued with a sheepish expression, “So today I’m a little tired.”

When a 25 year old boy is together with his favourite sport, there is nothing that can tear them apart. No matter how popular Kris Wu is, for the sake of playing basketball he does his best [to accommodate it into his schedule]. “There will always be onlookers present each time. Sometimes fans will follow over, sometimes it’s curious passers-by. Since basketball is an outdoor sport, if there are onlookers, let them watch!”

As the shoot was coming to an end, I left the studio first. It was already late into the night, yet the number of fans waiting at the door was several times more than the amount that had been present in the evening, lined up in an orderly manner from the elevator exit all the way to the roadside.

At that moment, Kris Wu who was upstairs was wrapping up this job, his third one for the day. It was one of the most ordinary days in his life.

translation: @wu_yi_fan

TG/TGRE volume cover parallels.

@snarky-gourmet

Something I’ve noticed from observing the Tokyo Ghoul covers is the parallels and similarities between the Tokyo Ghoul and Tokyo Ghoul :Re covers.

The most obvious similarities are those between covers one, two, and four of both series, as they feature the same characters. However, there are many more similarities that you’ll notice the more you look.

The covers for three seem different - there are two different characters, that have nothing to do with each other!

Firstly, the similarities between Seidou, and Hinami.  At first, you might think that there is nothing in common between the two, and that Ishida made this decision for no reason. However, if you look at their backstories, current lives and even, appearances, it makes way more sense.

Firstly, Seidou and Hinami are rather similar in appearance.

Firstly, both of them have short brown hair that poofs to the side at the ends, brown eyes, and rather similar face shapes. As well, as you’ll notice in the covers, both are facing directly forward, and touching their face, which I’ll discuss a bit later.

Second, both have had traumatic and horrifying things done to their mothers, due to them either being born as, or becoming ghouls.

Hinami’s mother is killed due to being a ghoul, while Seidou has to eat his mother.

Both are in a sense trapped in the opposite organization - Seidou is a CCG officer “trapped” in Aogiri, while Hinami is an Aogiri officer trapped in the CCG.

Lastly, both become members of Aogiri Tree in Tokyo Ghoul :Re, despite being against Aogiri Tree in Tokyo Ghoul, whether strongly (like Seidou) or by her moral code (like Hinami). And both became members because they had no choice.

Now, moving on to other similarities.

What is very easy to notice at first is that all of the Tokyo Ghoul covers are fullbody (or almost fullbody) while in Tokyo Ghoul :Re, the characters are mainly shown from the shoulders up. As well, in the case of the :Re characters’ covers, their hair had actually gotten lighter. As seen with Kaneki, Jason and Seidou, when a character’s hair is lighter, it probably means that they have been mentally changed or damaged in some way.

As well, another thing you might notice is that the character is shown with the same number of hands visible in both covers, and if they’re holding something on the Tokyo Ghoul cover, they’re holding something on the Tokyo Ghoul :RE cover.

Kaneki is holding “The Black Goat’s Egg” in the Tokyo Ghoul cover, and Sasaki is holding his glasses and a book. You can clearly see both hands on both covers.

Touka is holding something-or-other in the Tokyo Ghoul cover, and you can only see one hand. In the Tokyo Ghoul :RE cover, she seems to be holding a card, and only one hand is visible.

Tsukiyama is holding nothing in both covers, and due to the way he’s sitting in the Tokyo Ghoul cover, you, again, only see one hand on both covers.

Hinami, and as such Seidou, is holding nothing, and since one of her arms is covered by a sleeve, both of them only have one hand visible.

These were traced from captures.

I am just fascinated by how different the guys look without their masks on. I’m especially intrigued by Donnie, because out of all four, he’s got way more shit on him covering his face. He looks like a whole different character!! I’m here tracing the contours and then I look at it and I’m like “what? no, I did something wrong, this can’t be right. Who ARE YOU.” And their NECKS holy shit, they look even more like buffalos here!

I did have to use a bit of imagination because as I said, Donnie’s face is like 60% mystery, and the glasses distort the position of the eyes.

ENJOY SOME NAKY TURTLE MUGS.

anonymous asked:

eja here for the ask memememememememe erejean (lmao of course) with "things you said while I played with your hair" and if you're up for it, makoharu "things you said while you were crying" (gimme the angst nax!!)

You got it EJA~

Jean snorts. “You look like shit.”

Eren glares. He knows he looks like shit. He is acutely aware. He dumps his bag on the floor in front of the door and flings his shoes off, wobbles over to the sofa and lets himself fall face first into the cushions with a grunt.

“More so than usual, that is.”

Eren’s only response is to wave a half-hearted middle finger in the general direction of Jean’s voice.

Something’s pulling at his shirt from the back, forcing Eren up and onto his knees.

“C’mon,” Jean tugs. “Up! Assume the position.”

The position (shut up, he knows how it sounds) is this: Eren flips over and settles back to rest his head against Jean’ warm thigh, eyes closed, waiting.

It was weird, how this all started (as were most things that started between Eren and Jean). A strange moment suspended in time, Eren sitting on the living room floor in front the couch, Jean above him, three hours deep into n Appalachian Outlaws marathon. He’d been in the middle of calling Tony an idiot for making a deal with Corby, of all fucking people, when there were suddenly long, slim fingers raking through his hair, nails dragging over his scalp. It had forced this full body shiver out of him, and the moment he’d opened his eyes and locked with Jean’s above him, they both froze, a silent, what the hell are we doing? caught in the air between them.

Because they weren’t a thing. Aren’t a thing. They’re not even friends.

He whimpers, because can’t help it. Jean’s gliding his fingers through and then tugging just right. Eren’s covered in goosebumps.

“So,” Jean’s voice is soft. “Shitty day?”

“I just—” his face clenches up. “Nothing went right. Everyone wants something done, and they want it done now.”

“Mmhmm.”  He pushes all the hair out of Eren’s face.

“And I had like, four different people telling me I fucked up, and I still have so much left to do, and my supervisor is breathing down my neck, and I fucking—” He pauses to breathe. And it just comes out, “I missed you all day.”

Hands freeze. Eren’s eyes fly open.

“Uh.” He bolts upright.

“Lay back down, loser.” Jean grabs at his shoulders and pulls. “It’s not the first time you’ve said something super weird, and it sure as hell won’t be the last.”

Eren’s cheeks burn, lying there stiff with a scowl in place.

“I know you’re like, molecularly opposed to it,” Jean says, scritching his nails at the base of Eren’s skull, “But relax. For five minutes. All I’m asking for here is five minutes.”

It takes another second or two of Jean rubbing circles with the tips of his fingers, but Eren eventually melts against the couch. His eyelids droop, and he asks, voice slurred with about-to-be sleep, “How come you don’t ever let me do this to you?”

“Because I like my hair on my head and not in clumps on the floor?”

“Yo, fuck you,” Eren says, but he’s laughing for the first time in what feels like days.

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.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

ok but like... can u imagine shopping with the batfam like dragging them into sephora and using their arms to swatch products when u run out of room on ur own

jason, arms covered in swatches of eye shadow: okay but does the sheer amount of makeup on me constitute as stealing at this point. will the alarm sound when i try to get out of here

stephanie, turning around in one of those spinny chairs, in a full face of makeup: they’ll get to me first- i just used four different concealers, used a swab for lipsticks, and tried on mascara. i’ll say you were an unwitting accomplice

tim, in the chair next to stephanie, wearing red lipstick and popping his mouth: gcpd doesn’t even care about actual criminals, i somehow doubt they’re going to crack down on makeup thieves

This is Me Telling You I Love You- Part 1 (Draco x Reader)

Originally posted by foolforfelton

Requested by Anon: Could you do a Draco imagine where the reader is a muggle born witch, but Draco was secretly in love with her during Hogwarts but never told her/acted like a jerk? And then after the war they run into each other one day, and he confesses his feelings and they fall in love, and it’s like he’s a completely different (happy) person? Maybe smut and fluff? (I love me some smut lol). Thank you so much! I loved your holding hands preference!!

Awee thanks love! I will divide this into different parts because I have so many ideas!

Warnings: None (I’ll save the smut and fluff for later, muahaha)

He was a miniature figure of his father, despising muggleborns and so-called “blood traitors”. He would go around with his Slytherin mates as if he were their king, and bully his inferiors. Especially me. He would tell me to go into a corridor where Peeves was planning something, and I would run out covered in four, eggs, and even dungbomb stench, or simply yell out “MUDBLOOD!” on Hogsmeade trips.

But I never understood him, or why he would do these things. Until 5 years after the war.


A beautiful day, it was, to take a walk in the park. The birds were singing a tune, and I was humming along. Book in hand (The Great Gatsby), I sat down on a bench right by the lake and read. 

“Her gray, sun-strained eyes stared straight ahead, but she had deliberately shifted our relations, and for a moment I thought I loved her. But I am slow-thinking and full of interior rules that act as brakes on my desires, and I knew that first I had to get myself definitely out of that tangle back home. I’d been writing letters once a week and signing them: ‘Love, Nick,’ and all I could think of was how, when that certain girl played tennis, a faint mustache of perspiration appeared on her upper lip. Nevertheless there was a vague understanding that had to be tactfully broken off before I was free.”

“Hey,” a voice tore me away from my book and I immediately looked up to see who it was.

“It’s you.” I spat at the figure of Draco Malfoy, looking lean and fit as ever. But something about him had changed. His face no longer had the smug look and seemed more… mature.

“Yeah. Can I have a seat?” he asked. I looked at him like he was mental, and he must be, if he wanted to sit next to me.

“Er… yeah, sure. Yeah.” 

“Cool. That’s how the muggles say it, right?” he looked at me and smiled. 

“Yeah.” I said, still in shock of his sudden kindness.

“So, (Y/N). Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah.” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

“So, I heard you got a job at the Ministry. Department of Law Enforcement, right?”

“How’d you know?”

“I have my ways.” he chuckled, and I smiled back.

“And you?”

“Healer. Fantastic job, I must say, (Y/N). Lots of gratitude from the patients, even towards me!” 

And the conversation began. We talked for what seemed like hours, until the sky began to darken, and the soft breeze became a small wind. 

“Do you have a piece of paper I can use?” Draco asked out of the blue. 

“Um, yeah, sure. Here.” I grabbed my notebook out of my purse and tore a piece of paper from it. “Oh, and a pen.”

Draco raised his eyebrow.

“Pen?”

“Muggle stuff. You use it to write.” I took my pen out as well and gave them to him. “Here.”

Draco wrote something on the paper, folded it nicely and gave it to me.

“See you later, (Y/N).” He got up and walked away. I waved at him, and he waved back. 

I unfolded the paper and in it, neatly scrawled, were the words: “Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron, 4:00 pm Sunday. Dress well.”