even the rope

sure y’all can say “dragon age: don’t trust the apostate!!” but andy pandy blew up a church and scrambled egghead wants to tear down the veil whereas morrigan saved alistair/loghain AND your ungrateful warden ass from death and after that did nothing that even warrants her being roped in the same category as these two.

so who does the haus bills???? i’m pretty sure there’s no rent bc the hockey team owns it but who does the bills? who checks the mail and makes sure they don’t throw the envelopes out?? who makes sure the cable and heat and water and electricity is covered?? i’m sure ransom has made a spreadsheet for all the expenses, but who makes sure to pay it all on time??????? who sends out the reminder in the groupchat to give them money “unless you guys are fine taking cold ass showers for the next month”?????????????????

A photograph showing the best of humanity. A man about to jump from a bridge in North London is held onto tightly by passing strangers for two hours in order to prevent him from committing suicide. It can be seen that some even used ropes and cords to attach him more securely to the railings until emergency services were able to arrive.

Witchcraft 101: Binding Magick

When you’re a new witch (or just a witch in general), it is likely that you will hear people talk about binding magick. I talk about it myself, and often I forget that other people may have little to no knowledge of binding when I am blogging and reblogging. Worry not if you happen to have little or no knowledge of binding. Contrary to popular belief, us witches aren’t born with every piece of magickal and occult knowledge bred into our beings! I am going to try my best to explain it to you.

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anonymous asked:

consider this for a prompt: the team is in the lounge, post practice, just lazing around and doing nothing; the tv is on; no one is really paying attention when andrew suddenly turns rigid; deep breaths; unfocused eyes; the reporter is relaying a shocking revelation about a man abusing the foster kids in his care; hisfacehisfacehisfacetheyareshowinghisface (-i cannot tell why my mind is such an angsty bitch but here we are)

(this is a specific and excellent prompt and I’ve been anxiously awaiting its place in line <3)

He’s boneless when he climbs out of the shower, feet tender on the glossy tile, breath sitting high and tight in his chest. Neil likes pacing through his routine after practice, adrenaline relaxing its grip on him finger by finger, change-rooms echoing and empty. He strings his wet hair up in a fresh bandana and shrugs his armbands up over flushed, shower-damp forearms. He lets the practice pull at his muscles and drafts new line-ups and drills in his head.

His teammates are back in the lounge, dotting the furniture, all of their aggression leached out of them, and he feels joy rip his chest like popped stitches. Good feelings are always more brutal than bad ones, he’s come to understand. Stronger, harsher.

He gets a round of raised hands and snappy greetings when he walks in, mostly lost in the rustle of plastic bags as Wymack and Abby unload sandwiches onto an overcrowded table.

Wymack licks stray sauce off of his thumb and points at Neil with his other hand. “Come pretend you’re civilized and eat at the table. I don’t want ranch on my couches again.”

Neil shrugs and pulls a chair out at the head of the table. Matt winks up at him, and the rest of the foxes pass wrapped and pressed sandwiches down the line. They chat and rustle, Aaron snaps for serviettes until Wymack smacks his hand away, Kevin eats his sandwich with a knife and fork. Everything smells like tangy pesto and sweet fresh bread.

“Get Andrew over here, will you?” Wymack asks distractedly. Neil glances over at Andrew, installed on the couch with his back towards them. His hair has been bleaching in the sun recently, and he’s easily the brightest thing in the room.

“Andrew,” he calls, accepting his own sandwich when it’s waved in front of him, distracted from the back of Andrew’s head.

“You really put an effort in,” Nicky teases, rolling his eyes.

“I’m not moving him if he doesn’t want to be moved,” Neil replies, unconcerned. His food is warm in his hands, chicken and cranberries and cheese peeking out of brown bread and wax wrapping.

“That’s bullshit,” Matt says, mouth full. “You know you could.”

“I don’t know why you still think I have that kind of power.”

“Uhh maybe because he does impossible favours for you? And like. Kisses your face when we’re not looking? I dunno, just a thought,” Dan says sarcastically, peeling onions out of her sandwich.

“Andrew,” Neil repeats, exasperated. When he looks over again Andrew hasn’t moved, fixed and steady as always. His shoulders are moving fast though, breath coming hard enough that Neil can hear it from across the room. His stomach throbs, intuitive and scared. 

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gabriel in every scene (166/?)

+ bonus “gabriel, i need you!” captioned gif

Relaying a message.

For backstory, My team and I had just finished killing stirges in a town we were sent to so that we could investigate. We find out that a cultist made a deal with a demon and it went wrong. After killing all the stirges, we rounded the survivors in the bar (those who died got attacked or became stirges), but there was no sign of the demon or the cultist. Our Human Paladin and I however got good insight and perception rolls, so I notice a particular woman’s freaked out and he noticed that a very dark aura was coming from the room she was headed thanks to a spell, he and I realise “oh shit! she’s the cultist” the Human Ranger, 2 Half Drows one a Bard the other a Wizard and Myself: a Dragonborn Ranger head up to find her terrified as a demonic apparition looms over her (our injured Human monk and Elf Warlock stayed down). It speaks in Abyssal, which no one but our monk downstairs knows naturally and they both disappear. (Apologies for all that, now it’s the funnies)

Monk ooc: Hey, I suggest running down and doin an intelligence roll

DM: *Laughing* You metagaming bastard. Alright, you all rush downstairs to find the monk.

Monk: Hey, what’s going on?

Bard : I roll intelligence to relay the what the demon said in abyssal *rolls a Nat 1*

DM: You try your best, but due to you all panicking, you just start speaking gibberish.

Monk: Da fuck are you trying to say?

Warlock:… You need to stop smoking that kush

(a running gag with our bard is that he tries to get high a lot, he even bought 500ft of hemp rope just to smoke it)

Wizard: I’ll attempt it *rolls a 7* FUCK!!!

DM: You pretty much say gibberish as well.

Monk: What is goin on?

Me: I might as well attempt it *rolls* HOLY SHIT! NAT 20!!

Everyone burst out laughing

DM: Your like a motherfucking parrot, you say exactly what the demon said in abyssal perfectly.

Monk: Holy shit!

Me:… How the fuck did I do that?


I’ve been reading humans are space orcs and just… bless this trend. It’s good chocolaty, self indulgent, self analyzing, precious, hilarious, creative, savage, excited and curious. This thing is a celebration of what it means to be human and I love it so much, for so so many reasons.

So here is my (probably first of many) contribution. I know it starts sad but stick with me guys, this is a redemption story.

Captain Xartyyrng is ambitious, brilliant commander who hand picks his crew to be exceptional explorers and when he hears about the sheer ferocity and ingenuity of humans xe knows xe needs one. Xe reads all the pamphlets and diplomatic memos.
Humans are disease resitant.
Humans can deal with severe injury.
Humans can master SEVERAL martial arts, both armed and unarmed.
Humans can survive a wide variety of climates, and actively seek out and bond with dangerous animals and ailiens.
Their predetorial instincts and senses are invaluable.
They are a physically large, powerfull, fearless race of apex predators.

So after much debate and bargaining (begging) and promising to be careful with this unpredictable Terran the Commander acquires a human for his crew. Granted, he is sighned on as a Navigator and Helmsman, but whatever. Surely the humans inborn curiosity and general chutzpah will have him begging to be on the away teams in no time.

But he doesn’t. Ever.

‘Don’T you want to go onto the dangerous planet as the first of your speicies? ’
'I can see it fine from the drone cam see? Zoom!’

'I want you to have the honor of heading this away team.’
'Wha-! I don’t want the honor!’

'Look a big fuzzy predator go befriend it!’
'Are you crazy! Shut up! It might hear us!’
(And later)

'This is a 60,000 foot drop.’
'Huh, a 60,000 foot drop you say? Fantastic I’m not going near it. Ever…. No. Not even with a rope…No! Get that away from me!“

'Would you like to sample these berries? For scientific purposes?’
'H-e-l-l noooooooo.’

'Oh no! An electro storm is aproaching! Human-Steve, go and gather our eauipment.’
'Is this a bad time to confess my fear of thunderstorms?’

Bonus quotes from Human-Steve:
'I’m cold.’
'I’m hot.’
'I feel sick.’
'Can we go yet?’
'I HATE this place.’
'Let’s NOT.’
'I. Am. Not. DOiNg. ThAt!’

And one last exchange:

'That Karnakian isn’t so tough. Go fight it!’
'But… you’re a human! Fight him! Protect your friends!’
'First off, I think it’s more female than male? She is female? Xe? Second off. Nu-uh. She literally has poisoned spines for hair. And that is one hairy lady. Let’s go home.’
(After Commander Xartyyrng enraged the Karnakian and it charged them Human-Steve grabbed three of his crew mates and crawled into a very small crack in a very big tree and proceeded to cry in fear until they were rescued.)

Commander Xartyyrng stared at Human Steve scratched up, bug eyed scared and covered in tree sap, the 3 other away team members standing awkwardly around them, glad to he alive.
"You are-”
“A dissapointment. I am so sorry. I just… I just wanted to be a pilot. I know you all hate me. I will resighn. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’m such a looser I’m so sorry.”
It was the. Commander Xartyyrng finally understood. Humans could a be fearless, but Steve was not. And that was alright. If any others of his crew had displayed this cautious, quick thinking he would commend them…so.
“Steve, it is rude to interupt. I was saying you are very smart human. Go man the helm, I’m taking you off the away team roster.”
“Oh thank God!”

Just…. Commonsense-Steve.

My Queen

Originally posted by tomandharrisongifs

Part 2 // Part 3

Requested: YES/ NO

Anon requested: Hello lovely, I was wondering if I could request some soft mobster!Tom Holland? Where he’s obviously a ruthless man when it comes to the mob, but when he comes home to his pregnant wife he is super sweet and loving. Thank you!

Pairing: Mob!Tom x Reader

Word Count: 1825  

A/N: more mobster Tom, gosh the feels I get from that AU  

“Do you think I would ever tell you shit heads anything?!” A stern, although secretly scared voice hissed out as its owner tugged roughly at the thick brown ropes holding him still against the chair in the middle of a dark room, where the only light peaked out of a light bulb hanging from the ceiling at a few meters above the man’s head. The serious yet secretly unsure man was surrounded by six men, dressed all in black, their eyes covered with black sunglasses, despite the lack of light in the room. Their posture was straight, like robots waiting for their orders, each one of them soundless and patient, ignoring the cries of the man in front of them.  

While the man kept on struggling and pulling at the ropes, two of the men slowly moved to the side, allowing someone else to step closer to the kidnapped person: “Oh Johnny, you won’t need to tell them anything. But you will have to tell me everything.” The disembodied voice explained stepping into the light and facing the kidnapped man.

“Tom fucking Holland. Why am I not surprised to see you?” A throaty chuckle left the man’s lips as he stared at Tom.

Tom smirked and pressed a hand against the shoulder of the kidnapped man: “Because Johnny, you know you owe me 200.000 pounds.” His hand slid to his cheek and slapped it playfully a few times, “and you will give them to me now.”

“I don’t have the money with me right now. You know very well I wouldn’t just walk around with so much money.” The man spoke through his teeth, his anger boiling in him as Tom kept his calm.

“I know you don’t Johnny.” Tom spoke his tone the same as previously, calm and reserved.

“I won’t give it to you. I don’t have it!”

“Then we go to plan B.” Tom shrugged, pulling away from the man and turning to his employees, his eyes focused on the floor for a moment, nodding his head and turning around back to the kidnapped man while pulling the gun out of the inside pocket of the suit jacket. Tom did not say a word more, his emotionless expression focused on the man who will soon get a bullet through his head.

“Oi Holland, don’t do it!” The man struggled even more against the ropes, trying to somehow jump out of the chair and run away, which even if it would somehow happen, would be stopped by Tom’s men standing around him.

“Oh Johnny Johnny, you leave me no choice but to-” Tom stated, but could not finish due to his phone ringing in his pocket. Tom sighed sliding the gun down the man’s body: “excuse me.” He shot the man straight into the foot and an animalistic scream of pain came out of his mouth, he pulled even more onto the rope before falling back onto the chair, continuing to scream. Tom rolled his eyes and pointed at one of his men to cover his mouth while Tom’s on the phone.  

Tom turned around, pressing his back at the now somewhat quiet man who was crying in pain while Tom answered his phone. Just looking at the caller made him smile like a little boy, grinning wide he answered it: “Hi love, what’s wrong? Is the baby feeling alright?”

You, Tom’s love of his life and the mother of his future child, were safely laying on your couch, in your overly big living room, cuddled in a fluffy blanket. To him it was the safest place you could be, guarded by dozens of his men, around the whole mansions, with security cameras and motion detectors all around his land. You were the most important person in his life, his biggest priority and more crucial to his well-being than any money or status he could possess. Therefore, protecting you was always his top task.  

No matter where he was around the world, in what situation he could be in, he would always pick up and do anything you wish for. Despite his ruthless and merciless attitude, he was wrapped around your finger, so deeply in love with you that he would do literally anything you wanted him to do. So madly in love that his colleagues were shocked at how quickly his attitude would change when he saw you.  

“Nothing baby.” You snuggled into your blanket, longing for Tom’s hugs and kisses, “I just wanted to know when you’re coming home. We miss you.” You slid your fingers gently over your stomach, stroking the growing belly that was covered by a warm woolen jumper, which you may or may not have stolen from Tom’s closet.

“I’ll be home in 20 minutes darling. You two just wait a bit longer and I am all yours, my queen.” He grinned to himself, gently mumbling into the microphone of his phone. He was like a happy puppy in the middle of a graveyard. All his men were silent, already used to his bubbly happiness whenever you were around. And due to your politeness to each one of them, the sandwiches you would make them, the cool drinks you would bring them on hot summer days when Tom makes them secure the mansion, they learned to respect and care for you as much as you care for them. Besides, they are somewhat of a big murderous family.

You smiled closing your eyes and snuggling even more into his jumper, enjoying the slight leftover smell of his colon against the fabric: “Alright Tommy. We will wait for you. Love you.”

“I love you too, my queen. I’ll see you in a bit.” He allowed you to hang up first, to make sure you would not have anything else to say, to not miss anything of what you could possibly say. Usually, he would be the one to hang up, but you were his exception.  

Quickly shoving the phone into his pocket, he cleared his throat and straightened his back, turning around to face the man with the same emotionless expression from before: “Where were we?” He looked at the man, the hand away from his mouth, face in obvious pain, salty tears running down his face, his nails digging into the arms of the chair, while his foot continued to bleed.

“Ah, yes, 200.000 pounds.” Tom rubbed the throat of the gun against his hair, moving the topic back to the process of him regaining his money, “now Johnny, I’d need that money. I plan on buying my angel some new dresses.” Smirking at the tortured man he pointed his gun back at him.

“You piece of shit. You don’t need that money, you already own millions.” The man spat out, hitting Tom’s shoe with his saliva.

Tom poked his tongue against the inside of his mouth and looked away for a moment, before snapping and hitting the man with the back of the gun against his nose, leaving him groaning out in pain, the blood running down to his mouth: “Then you should have fucking borrowed my money. You shouldn’t have messed with me Johnny. If you can spend my money on sluts and drugs, you can fucking give it back to me.”

“Holland please, just give me some time-”

“Ah speaking of time, I have to be home soon. Sorry Johnny but our chit chat’s gonna have to be cut short.”  

“No Tom please-” before the man could even finish his last sentence, Tom pulled the trigger, blowing a gun right through the man’s forehead, leaving the lifeless body to hang over the chair, the head leaning forward as the blood run down his face and body. Tom put his gun back into his pocket before showing his men the sign to clean the place up. No evidence would be left and Tom made sure no clues or hints about the death could be found.

Unlike his other men, Tom made his way straight to his car, driving off to his mansion. After numerous security checks which for him go rapidly because everyone knows his car, Tom parked into your mansion’s parking lot. He checked himself, making sure no blood was anywhere over his suit. He fixed his hair quickly before rushing inside his house. Meanwhile, you were still laying on your couch. Noticing the door opening you cranked your neck to the side and looked at your husband.

The moment he laid his eyes on you, Tom smiled widely, the whole day and the stress forgotten, all he could think of was the angel waiting for him and the other angel growing inside of you.

“Hi baby,” he heard your soft voice speak to him and his heart skipped a beat. Sometimes he wondered how someone could be madly and deeply in love with someone else, “how was work today?”

“Stressful, messy, bloody.” he sighed taking off his shoes and jacket, putting them aside before climbing behind you at the couch. You knew about every part of Tom’s work. He never kept it a secret from you, nor did he ever want to keep secrets from the mother of his child. Spinning your body around, you slid your fingers over his jaw, the gentle and warm touch made him sigh happily and wrap his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him: “but that’s all unimportant now that you are with me.”

“I missed you today. The little one decided it would be a good idea to practice football.” you pouted before letting out a giggle. There was a sparkle in Tom’s eyes when he heard the words coming out of your mouth.

His fingers gently slid over your stomach. He was always so careful when touching your stomach, making sure he would never harm you. You leaned in pressing your forehead against his as he stated: “Little football player, aren’t you? Tiring your poor mother out. You should really be gentler to her.” He spoke to his unborn child as you closed your eyes enjoying the soft tone of his voice, so unlike any tone, he uses when speaking to his men.  

“Well, it is your child. He or she will tire me out just as their father does.” You poked your tongue out. Tom frowned his face, pouting at your words before cupping your chin and pulling you into a sensual slow kiss, full of longing and love.

“I love you so much, my queen.” he whispered

“Was I not your princess a while ago?” You laughed pecking his lips a few more times.

“The child in here” he gently poked your stomach, “is my prince or princess now. And you my love are the queen of my heart. I’d die for you.”

“I love you so much Tom.” You whispered before pulling him into another long kiss, wrapped in the arms of the love of your life, you could not be happier.

finn is i shit u not the very reason i even got roped back into star wars, like deadass the tfa trailer had me in tears and i get so worked up thinking abt it because yall had a formula for smth great and smth powerful and wonderful and u tossed it away along with finn’s development and character and arc and everything else like they knew what they were doing they were fully aware of how they fooled us and john was just strung along and im so proud of him for being vocal about it and expressing his upset


Pairing: Ryan Haywood x Reader x Jeremy Dooley

Word Count: 5,338

Prompt: We all know Los Santos’ most feared assassins, but what if you were their target? And the first words out of their mouths were the same words imprinted on your skin?

Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of torture.

Breathe, for fuck’s sake, just breathe, you told yourself, keeping your head down as you walked towards your usual lunch spot. Your lips were stuck in a grimace, trying to keep the tears from spilling over, and you couldn’t keep from internally cursing at yourself. Way to go, (y/n), not even fucking noon and you’re already spiraling, god dammit.

Between your alarm not going off, your boss berating you for your recent work performance, and the empty threats your ex continued to text you from different numbers, it seemed like nothing was in your favor. So, with the whole universe against you, you resorted to blocking it out; pulling your phone out of your pocket, you turned up the music in your earbuds so you couldn’t hear the tourists that swarmed the sidewalks, or the drivers shouting obscenities as they blared their horns.

You just needed a break, needed something to go well. The playlist you were listening to helped slightly, and you knew once you had some food in your system you’d feel better, but you were honestly feeling pretty hopeless. Getting through work would be hard enough, and the idea of going home to your roommate and their boyfriend made you sick. With a sigh, you turned down the alley you always cut through, the usual lack of other people comforting.

Though it was a faster route, your bigger reason for using the shortcut was the excuse to get away from the crowds that plagued Los Santos. Living in a city where you’re constantly surrounded by people grew tiring, and you could only relax when you felt alone. If that was in a dirty alley, so be it.

Your pace slowed as you continued, and with no one around, the tears began to spill over. Fucking hell, just, take a breath, you urged the tears to stop, trying to maintain composure. You’ll get something to eat, then you’ll get through five hours of works, and you’ll be—

You were dragged out of your thoughts and back into reality by the gloved hand that suddenly covered your mouth, pulling you back against a solid figure. Music was still blaring in your ears, and you weren’t even able to fully process what was happening before it was too late to do anything. It wasn’t until a needle sunk into the flesh of your bicep that you began to scream, fighting to escape your attacker’s grip.

Wrapping an arm around your torso so tight you could hardly breathe, he quickly contained your movements. “Shh, there’s no point, no one’s listening,” a voice rumbled in your ear, and even as your mind started to fog, you immediately recognized those words. They rendered you immobile, the same words that tingled on your skin, scrawled across your hip.


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To give you an idea of how quickly horse people jump the gun to find a reason to critique someone in one way or another, I’m going to share a comment that someone made on the video of milo running at the chicken bridleless. (She deleted it after I replied lmao)

“Why are her hands down like that? She’s ripping on his mouth and asking to be thrown. What a disgrace.”

On a video.

Of me.



Not even with a neck rope.


My horse literally comes right up to the camera and you can clearly see he’s not wearing one


- A Vampire AU where Ripper Y/n falls in love with human Harry


“What am I doing here?“

His sight is still fogged from his unconsciousness and he hears a slight ringing in his ears upon his awakening. The lightness in his head intensifies from his frantic movements, which only makes him realize that his motions are limited due to the restraints that are tied around his wrists and ankles.

He coughs dryly, groaning at the pounding in his head and the thumping in his chest as he repositions himself upon the chair. The world seems to be spinning around him and he still isn’t too sure whether this is a dream or his reality.

When he blinks his eyes harshly to gain composure, his sight is still blurred and he hisses at the dizziness that seems to be taking over him.

It’s dark and unfamiliar territory—the lights dimmed and the illumination of the fireplace is the only glow of the room. There’s no windows, no sign of the outside world besides a door that seems to have several latches and locks to keep him in lockdown.

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