fine chain

“Luna had decorated her bedroom ceiling with five beautifully painted faces: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. They were not moving as the portraits at Hogwarts moved, but there was a certain magic about them all the same: Harry thought they breathed. What appeared to be fine golden chains wove around the pictures, linking them together, but after examining them for a minute or so, Harry realized that the chains were actually one word, repeated a thousand times in golden ink: friends … friends … friends …

me everytime:

“Luna had decorated her bedroom ceiling with five beautifully painted faces: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. They were not moving as the portraits at Hogwarts moved, but there was a certain magic about them all the same; Harry thought they breathed. What appeared to be fine golden chains wove around the pictures, linking them together, but after examining them for a minute or so, Harry realized that the chains were actually one word, repeated a thousand times in golden ink: friends…friends…friends…friends… Harry felt a great rush of affection for Luna” – Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

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Hello naughty children, I am going to talk about “psychotic breakdowns” in the P5 localization, and the fact that it’s a (very big) mistranslation that could mess up your perception of a fair amount of things in the game. (also, the fact that “psychotic breakdowns” and “mental shutdowns” are different things).

As usual, post is pretty long & screenshot heavy.

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etsyfindoftheday | blue gifts: HBD kat! | 10.1.17

custom rose-cut blue sapphire prong-set necklaces by lexluxe

another EFOTD fave, lexluxe, puts the candles on this day of blue birthday finds in honor of my twin sister katherine!! these beautiful sapphire necklaces are so unique and shiny. hope you had a wonderful bday, kat, i love eu!

To Newt, With Love

Request: “Hi-Hi! I’ve read your newt x reader stuff and they are so nicely done, I like your style! Could I request for angsty newt x reader, pure angst. Sadness and all that. If you don’t mind of course! Something like ‘reader likes newt but newt is stupidly oblivious and he still hanging on leta/is with tina most of the day. At the end, the reader just 'poof’, out of touch. Thank you!”

Word Count: 2,643

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by Anonymous

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in

The midnight blue dress draped over your body shatters the beams of golden sunlight streaming through your window, sending specks of glittering light all over the white walls of your bedroom and the pastel green sheets of your bed. You hardly notice, though, as you struggle to clasp a delicate silver necklace around your neck. The fine chain, soft as gossamer, tangles around your fingers, fighting your attempts to secure it. The struggle proceeds for a minute before you can drop the chain and watch it shimmy into its place in the dip between your collar bones. A beautiful gift from an old friend.

An old friend you’re visiting in five minutes, if the godfather clock standing in the corner is correct. A bundle of nerves flutter in your stomach. You haven’t seen Newt in months. Any time you wrote and told him you’d be able to make time, he’d been too busy. Then NEWT exams rolled around and every spare second of every day was dedicated to scrawling out notes and rereading the same chapter five times until you could nearly recite the entire textbook word for word. The grueling effort paid off, though, earning you high grades in every subject.

Today, you celebrate with your best friend of seven years. The two of you agreed to meet at your house at noon before traveling out to Hogsmeade to enjoy butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks and then find a dancing hall. You know Newt has a fondness for dancing unmatched by many others, even if he may be reluctant to admit it.

One more glance in the mirror satisfies you. Not a hair is out of place, your elegant silver earrings brush the tops of your exposed shoulders, and the dress gleams, not a hint of lint on it. You step from the mirror’s gaze and cross the room, enjoying the clacking of your heels against the wood floor. On your dresser sits an ornate black box. Swirls carved and painted white loop around the wide case, meeting on the top to circle around Newt’s full name.

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VIXX reaction - you telling something dirty that makes them turned on (+18)

Ok being pervert won’t make many ppl turned on, but I guess you meant dirty and sexy things okeeey *wink wink* Mhm so I’ll do it weirdly, every one depends on what was in my head xD 

N: “I wanna tear this shirt of you.” you said.

“Go ahead, I don’t mind at all.” he replied.

Leo: You said it really quietly but he looked up at you quickly with suprise. You regretted your words, but you could feel a little bit excited. 

“Say it again.” he said as he approached you.

Ken: Don’t get fooled by this cutie. Your one word, said with so much need could turn him from a puppy to wolf. And you are his prey…

Ravi: “You don’t even know what your voice does to me.”

“Oh you’ll have to tell me, or I’ll find out by myself.” he said in his deep husky voice.

Hongbin: He acted like it’s okay, but he started giving you a look from time to time. You didn’t notice them at first, but you finally felt his eyes travelling from your neck to lips.

“Ok, I can’t focus anymore, come here.” he said as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

Hyuk: Turned on Hyuk is more evil than usuall Hyuk! You said something sexy just to tease him a little bit, he turned it into game, teasing you more, and he was winning! When approched you, he leaned for a kiss with a serious face.

You started it but I won. Now I’ll take my reward.”

Title: The Upside Down Sky
Author: Amazonia_8
Artist: Dogsled
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Warnings/Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Violence, Pining, Mild Angst, Protective Dean, BAMF Cas
Posting Date: 11/15/2017

Summary:  Despite having every resource the government could throw at them, within the vast wealth of lore protected and researched by the Federal Bureau of Letters and Arcanae, there were only five obscurely written entries on angels. And the number of actual angels ever encountered by humans? One, and that guy was a dick. So when intel indicates an genuine, living angel has been captured, with dire consequences to the universal balance, the FBLA send their best agents undercover to a clandestine freak show, where black market monster are brought in for the enjoyment of those with the means to afford it. The mission is one they’ve done a thousand times: extract the entity and bring it in.

And Agent Dean Winchester’s seen it all, but he’s never seen anything like Castiel.

- - -

He’d heard of people doing something like this, capturing creatures and posting videos online, keeping them in a cage to poke with a stick until the thing died of starvation or broke free and had a nice warm meal. The FBLA never tried to suppress any of it. Monsters were never, officially, confirmed, the line of response had always been that the Bureau’s purview was in the research and management of ‘anomalies’. but that didn’t mean they weren’t public knowledge. Denying they existed had totally backfired in Roswell, besides, there were just too many of them to keep people ignorant. The average Joe would never run into anything bitey in his lifetime, much to his relief, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a public appetite for Witch Week on the Discovery Channel, or non-stop marathons of Finding Bigfoot (Dean knew, for a fact, they were never gonna find that thing).

So these people knew what they were gawping at, at least they thought they did, and Dean couldn’t believe they were still stupid enough to willingly crowd themselves into a room with a dozen of the most pissed off monster he’d ever seen. Money and polish gave it all a sheen of safety and there was nothing more in the whole world Dean wanted to do at that moment than snap the chains of one of these creatures and sit back with a beer while it tore these morons to ribbons.

But instead, he tittered on cue and shared appreciative words with the other guests over what a very good job their host had done procuring these oddities for their pleasure.

They moved as a group around the room, clustering and weaving until they came to the centerpiece, best for last. The real reason the brothers were here. Crowley drew out the tension as long as he could, devious smile and eyeliner. When the curtain lifted, everyone gasped in shock, including Dean and not just as part of his cover.

He was beautiful. Wild dark hair, wild blue eyes, and oil slick iridescent black wings that spanned out to the edges of his gilded cage in fear. He wore white linen pants and nothing else, the better to see the authenticity of wing bone and muscle flexing at his back. Fine wrought gold chains glinted as they linked a leather collar to cuffs the brothers could see from here were scrolled with some of the markings Gabriel had told them about. the poor thing looked terrified and furious and the louder the crowd became, the harder he struggled against his bonds. There was something about him that broke Dean’s heart straight in half and the strength of it was stealing his breath away. A beautiful, divine thing, captured and trussed for an evening’s distraction and money on the barrel.

Without realizing it, Dean had shouldered his way to the front of the crowd. The angel was looking at all of them and none of them, there was no way out but his need to search anyway consuming him.

Until his gaze fell on Dean.

  • What she says: I'm fine
  • What she means: if simba spent most of his childhood and part of his adulthood eating plants and insects with timone and pumba, then what happened when he went back to pride rock? Did he keep his altered diet? Lions are natural carnivores and simba was no longer living under timone and pumba's rules, so he should've been allowed to eat what he wanted. He should instinctively want to eat animals, but he was raised to eat bugs. Simba's strange diet might inspire the other lions to eat insects as well, and then the entire ecosystem would be thrown off. Oh my god.

i want to cry because:

‘So have you had a good term?' 'Oh, it’s been alright,’ said Luna. 'A bit lonely without the DA’

'I enjoyed the meetings, too,’ said Luna serenely. 'It was like having friends.’

'Oh, no, I’d love to go with you as friends!’ said Luna, beaming as he had never seen her beam before. 'Nobody’s ever asked me to a party before, as a friend!' 

Luna had decorated her bedroom ceiling with five beautifully painted faces: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. They were not moving as the portraits at Hogwarts moved, but there was a certain magic about them all the same: Harry thought they breathed. What appeared to be fine golden chains wove around the pictures, linking them together, but after examining them for a minute or so, Harry realised that the chains were actually one word, repeated a thousand times in golden ink: friends … friends … friends …


anonymous asked:

Anymore Neighboring love?

Jamie pulled me in close, tucking my head under his chin as he rocked us from side to side.

 “Are ye alright, mo nighean donn?” He whispered into my hair. I could hear the strain in his voice.

 I nodded with a mumbled yes into his chest. The tension in his body seemed to melt away with my simple answer. I felt him press a kiss to my head, just before he pulled back to survey my face.

“Christ, it’s good to see and hold ye, Sassenach. If he–if he–” his eyes closed as he breathed angrily out his nose. “I couldnae stand it if he’d done anything to ye.”

I cupped his face and he leaned further into it my touch as I said, “You stopped him. Nothing happened because you were here. Even if you had not showed up, he wouldn’t have gone far. If he had tried to pull me close, my knee would have forcefully become acquainted with a particularly sensitive part of him.” 

Jamie tipped his head back with a roaring laugh. “I wouldnae doubt ye for a moment, Sassenach. And remind me to ne’er get on yer bad side.” He said with a wink.

I smirked as he wrapped an arm back around my shoulders and guided me to the big house.

“We need to be quiet, Claire, we dinna wish to be caught.” He said with a wink, holding a finger up to his lips. “I wish to keep ye to myself for a while and the moment my meddlin’ family discovers I’m in the house it’ll be hours before I can just hold ye and talk wi’ ye.” He looked over to me and gave me a grin that made my stomach feel full of butterflies. “I just want to be able to talk wi’ ye wi’out a crowd.”

“If you’re so worried about being caught, why don’t we stay out in the garden or go for a walk to the mill?” I countered.

“Because,” he said, “I cannae give ye the wee baubles I brought back for ye at the mill.”

“You didn’t have to–”

“I ken fine I dinnae have to get ye anything, but I wanted to.”

I nodded and followed him with light footsteps through the empty kitchen and up the back set of stairs towards my, no his bedroom. A room I would have to give up, a bittersweet sadness washed over me. I didn’t want to leave the comfort of that room, of Jamie, but he was home now. The need to be separate until the wedding would overshadow every other need that may arise. God, I hoped it wasn’t too much longer. A year already and before then the stupidity of my shyness kept us apart, and now…now I wanted nothing more than to never leave his side and let the feelings that have been building take over. I wanted, no, needed these emotions, these overwhelming sensations to be sated and content. He was the man I could let myself genuinely feel and not be afraid of what was to come. I’d heard enough over the last year from Jenny, the women I helped in childbirth, and old Granny McNabb to know what was to come for the marriage bed.

“Claire? Claire?” Jamie said, shaking me slightly. “Where did ye go mo nighean donn? I’ve been saying yer name…” He trailed off when I started to shake my head and smile.

“I was thinking about what this room means, to you, to me…us.” I took a step and buried my face in his chest, then continued. “This is your childhood room, your home. But, when you left it became this empty shell, waiting for your return. Nothing out of place, everything exactly as you left it, until I moved in. It was hard at first, however, this room became an extension of you, a place where I felt closer to you. This room, this house, it became my home, more so than any other place I’ve lived. 

I felt his arms tighten around and a smile bloom across his face. “Aye, well then I’m sure my letter was of comfort to ye in my absence as well?”

“Mmm hmm. They were. Although I did wish for more of them.”

He laughed, “I wish I could have written more as well.”

Taking a moment to himself, Jamie pulled away taking in the familiar surroundings, his gaze seemed to linger on the small bundle of his letters.

“I am curious, Claire.” He said, brows furrowed.

“About what?”

“Why ye dinna wear the bauble I left ye.” His voice was soft, almost somber in tone.

I furrowed my brow, trying to think back to any bauble I may have received or misplaced. My hand instantly went to my neck where the fine gold chain securely held Jamie’s ring.

“I don’t know which bauble you’re speaking of, Jamie.” My wrist twisted and rocked from side to side, moving the ring rapidly across the chain. “The only thing close to a bauble I can recall is this ring. I never took it off. I’ve worn it either on my finger or on the chain everyday since you gave it to me.”

Jamie’s hand gently grabbed my own, halting the nervous fidgeting, and lifted my hand to his lips for a tender kiss. The stubble of his beard tickled the back of my hand, as his lips lingered against my skin. “No,” his mumbled words a whisper across my skin, “I dinna mean the ring. Although ye canna ken how elated I am to see ye wear it. I wish for it to never leave your finger, but I understand how ye dinna wish to tarnish the gem with soil from her wee herbs or blood from yer tending. No, I mean the wee bauble I wrapped in a letter for ye before I left.”


He held up his hand to silence me. “I thought I would be clever and leave the letter hidden so only ye could discover it, but it seems I did my job too well.” His eyes glittered with mischief. “So it only seems fair now that I find it for ye, yes?”

I nodded as he shook his head contradicting himself. “I’ll give ye a clue, mo nighean donn, and then it’s yer job to find it.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Well what’s the clue?”

 Jamie kissed my hand one more time before stepping back and leaned against the closed door. “I’ve already given it to ye.”

“What? How? When did you do such a thing?” I asked flabbergasted.

 He grinned like the cat who got the canary and nodded slightly, but not in any definable direction. “Ye ken how and when. Surely ye read yer letters thoroughly or watched me when I entered the room. What did you read, Sassenach? Think.”

 “James Fraser!” I exclaimed with a wave of my hand. “How am I supposed to decipher something I didn’t know existed?”

 “Weel ye ken now, so think and decipher.”

 I narrowed my eyes at him, causing him to bark with laughter but not reveal any more cryptic clues.

 “Okay, letters and body language,” I mumbled to myself turning to face the room. “We walked it and he looked to the window, then to the trunk at the end of the bed. The pile of letters neatly stacked…He looked there multiple times, but there’s nothing in there unless–unless he had hidden clues in their contents? But then why would he look over…oh!” and like a flash, a ridiculous notion came to me. Many times in his letters he mentioned his desire to draw me in close to his heart, and the heart was on the left side, the same side he wrote on, the logical side where a small bedside cabinet with drawers filled with baubles, a heavily used Bible and a rosary. Swiftly I removed the contents of the bedside cabinet and desperate to see if a letter was hidden.


 “Well, that was a long shot,” I mumbled.

 Deflated I sat on the bed and looked around again, my eyes landing on Jamie as he portrayed nothing but absolute indifference.

 “You only looked at two places,” I said loud enough for him to hear.

 “Och, did I?” He smirked.

 “Aye, ye did.” I laughed, exaggerating my speech to mimic his accent.

 “Then what does that tell ye, Sassenach?”

 “It means you either stuck the letter in the ground, or it’s in your trunk.”

 He shrugged but didn’t say a word.

 “Fine,” I sighed, walking over to the trunk I had taken to using for my own clothing, and began to pull out my belongings one by one. It didn’t take long until the trunk was empty and nothing lay at the bottom that resembled a letter, nor was there one stuffed somewhere inside the various possession I had inside.

 “There’s nothing here.” I said gesturing to the trunk. “Look see there’s noth–” My words stopped as I noticed a small, yellowing scrap of fabric that seemed to be wedged into the inside lid of the trunk. My hands shook as I gently tugged on the fabric, pulling it until my fingers scraped against metal. A hidden latch that opened a hidden compartment rattled at my touch, then easily opened. Inside, pockets of wood and fabric lined panes similar to a bookshelf were revealed. Inside the middle pane lay a perfectly sealed letter.

 The letter had my name scrawled in Jamie’s beautiful script, my fingers traced the letters, then popped the ball of red wax sealing the sides together. White and gold slithered out of it’s confinement and into my awaiting palm.

 “They were my mother’s pearls.” Jamie’s voice was low and husky from behind me. “She said to give them to my future wife.”

 Tears sprang to my eyes as he reverently placed the strand around my neck.

 “How long?” I couldn’t finish my thought, but he knew.

 “I wrote this letter the day I found you in the meadow outside the mill.” His fingers traced the pearls and my neck with a light touch sending chills down my spine. “I knew then I wanted ye for my own, and I couldna and wouldna let ye go. I sealed the letter with the pearls just before I left for University.” My eyes closed as his lips brushed the nape of my neck. His forehead leaned against my skull and we sat in silence, taking in the moment.

 “Y-You knew? I thought, oh God Jamie!” I turned in his arms, throwing my own around his neck and burying my face in his chest. “We lost so much time before.”

 He lifted my chin, “No we didna, it wasna the time or place to begin. Our lives are twined together,” Jamie grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers in illustration, “and when we say it is the right time, it is. I knew I wanted ye and ye proved on Quarter Day that ye too wanted me. That’s why I gave ye that ring, to symbolize my commitment to ye, and wrapped up this necklace for ye. It’s an outward sign of what we already know. We’re bound you and I and soon, very soon, if ye’ll have me…”

 “Are you–”

 He nodded eyes brimmed with tears. “I am.”

 “You already know the answer you insufferable Scot!” I sobbed with a laugh.

 “Say it, please Claire.”

 “Yes, I’ll be your wife.” His eyes closed and shoulders shook in silent tears as he pulled me in tight, his lips finding mine in a clash of teeth and salty tears.

I Wish I Could Stay

Characters: Sam Winchester x reader, Dean Winchester
Word count: like 5000 [how and why?? wtf??]
Warnings: injury, swearing, slight sleep disorder, lots of sexual tension, fluff, implied smut, ANGST (i’m sorry. it wasn’t supposed to be angsty at first, i swear.)
Summary: Y/n gets hurt during a hunt and makes her way to the bunker after having left a few months ago (the winchesters, but specifically sam).
A/N: This is for @bradygabrielle-blog’s challenge. The prompt was ‘Tell me you’ve never thought about it.’ I am so so sorry it took so long, but here it is! (Also, this totally went in a different direction than I thought it would, but doesn’t it always… lol)
Beta-ed by the amazing @heytheretumbrl

Originally posted by mehsupernaturalxx

I attempted to limp down the stairs to get into the bunker from the garage, but at that point, I was so exhausted that I slid down the wall to the steps, holding onto the railing so I wouldn’t fall straight down. I groaned and tightened my grip on the badly bandaged wound in my side.

I let go of the banister and pulled my phone out of my pocket, trying to keep it from falling out of my shaky hands. I didn’t trust my voice to be loud enough if I tried yelling through the metal door into the bunker. There were a few blood spatters on my phone, but I ignored them, swiping it open. I managed to hit Dean’s number and put the phone on speaker. 

“Y/n?” His voice came over the sounds of a bar and a pool game. “Long time no talk. What’s up?”

I groaned. “You’re not at the bunker, are you?”

“I’m not. What’s going on? Do you need me to come over there?”

I shook my head. “No. You’re fine. I’ll, just, uh, get S-Sam… I guess.”

“You sure, y/n/n?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine, Dean. You have fun, okay?” I hung up before he could argue. I let go of my phone for a second, trying to get myself to call Sam’s number. I finally pressed his name, still in my favorites, and listened while it rang.

“Y/n?” His voice sounded tired and confused, very, very confused, as if he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not.

I laughed weakly, thankful that he’d picked up on the first try. “Heya, Sammy!” I winced. “I hope you’re home!” I gasped out, attempting to sound okay.

But he heard the pain behind the words instantly. “Y/n? What’s wrong? Where are you? Why are you…?”

I groaned again. “Um, I know it’s like two in the morning, but I’m in your garage… And I could use a little help.” I heard a click as Sam hung up and leaned my head against the wall, hoping I wasn’t getting blood all over the place.

Thirty seconds later, the door into the garage swung open, slamming against the wall, making my head vibrate, and I sat up again as well as I could, trying to hide the joy and the pain at seeing him again after all this time.

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