flash did not fire

10

every westallen scene ever (133/?)

anonymous asked:

Does Snart actually use puns on the shows? Because him using puns pops up in almost every fic with him but I can't remember him using them in the live action canon? At least not to the point where I'd notice it or call it a recognizable trait

I have just the gifset for this (season 1 puns)

(it could also be noted that other people use more puns around him, like how in 1x04 one of his lackeys asks him if his gun froze his brains)

anonymous asked:

“You’re not leaving the house dressed like that.” Oiyama

“Tadashi, where are you going?” 

“O- Out, Tooru!” Tadashi says, whimpering, pausing at the door. His boyfriend is in the door that leads to the living room, arms crossed. “I’m g- going to Shou-chan’s house.” 

“You’re not leaving the house dressed like that.” 

Tadashi blinks. “I’m…Dressed normal, Tooru.” 

Tooru growls, glaring at Tadashi. “Your jeans are too tight. And your shirt is too low cut. Go change.” 

“I- I’m…I’m late already, Tooru, Shou-chan will be mad…” 

Fire flashes in Tooru’s eyes. “What did I just say, Tadashi?” 

“Y- You said…to change…” 

“And what are you going to do?” 

“Ch- Change…” 

Tooru smiles, and kisses Tadashi gently. “Good boy.” 

anonymous asked:

When I was a lot younger I once was making popcorn, got distracted, and it started to smoke. I picked up the pan and ran to toss it into the pond and the popcorn briefly burst into flames on the way. I also have a truely nauseating microwave story if you want to know (you probably don't.) ~Immortal anon

(A note: Don’t worry I didn’t get burned in my popcorn flash fire, but I did get banned from cooking. ~Immortal Anon)

Oh boy;;; you’re welcome to share it if you wanna, immortal anon, but please be careful with your popcorn and your microwaves;

Ficlet: Magic Lessons in the Modern Age

“So, how go the magic lessons?”

Stephen Strange gave him a look that could’ve flash frozen fire. Steve did his best to keep a straight face. “Not well, I take it?”

Strange rubbed his forehead with tense fingers. “It is not going,” he said, with a faint sigh. “At all.”

“You knew that was a possibility,” Steve said. He glanced down the stairs to the library floor, where DJ was sitting cross-legged, a massive book spread open in front of him. One of his hands traced strange, arcane patterns in the air, and as Steve watched, the pages of the book flared with light.

Strange glanced over. “It’s rather worse than my worst case scenario,” he said, as the book suddenly belched out a puff of black smoke. DJ’s head snapped back, his nose wrinkling, and Steve bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning.

“He seems to be trying-”

“Oh, he’s trying. Trying my patience,” Strange said. “Let me be clear here. He is quite literally a being formed of magic, his base form is magical, he is intelligent, he is clever, he is a trained artist and a semi-trained dancer. All of the usual barriers to a practitioner are non-existent, Steve.”

He paused. “Despite that, he is incapable of magicking his way out of a wet paper bag. I’m actually shocked by the level of his ineptitude.”

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We Build Out of Dust - An ACOTAR fanfic

i. The Ash Settles

The boy swung and grunted, his feet barely making the steps, holding tight onto the wooden sword. His soft, cotton shirt tented over the bumps at his shoulder blades. He growled when he completely missed the dummy, hacking away at it again. Beside me, my mate chuckled.
I looked over at him, at his mussed black hair and amused lilac eyes, the crown absent from his head for a moment. Rhysand Starlais, High Lord of the Night Court, master of Velaris, the Court of Dreams, commander of the Illyrians, friend of the Inner Circle, and my mate. The sound of his laughter brought forth emotion in me, and I nuzzled his neck. He hummed contentedly. “He’s so sweet,” Rhys said.
I watched my son scream, running and slicing and stabbing like a madman. I thought that if he continued like this, Velaris below would tremble in fear at our little tyrant, seeing him glinting on the roof of the House of Wind. I kissed Rhys’ cheek. He took my jaw in his hands. They used to be so soft…but after the War with Hybern, they’d developed calluses on the pads of his palm. “What are you thinking?”
When I looked back at him, away from my thoughts, away from the violent and sorrowful past, he quirked a gentle smile. “I’m thinking,” I started, clearing the emotion from my voice, “that I’m so happy.”
Rhys caressed me, his expression saying more than words could. The weight on my chest pushed down, and then lifted. Rhys kissed me lovingly, pulling me close to his form, back to the real with the press of his body.
“Mama!”  Mortium whined. We lingered, and then pulled away. Mortium gave us his most disapproving look, sword limp in his hand.
“Yes, son?” Rhys said.
He pointed to the dummy behind him. “I don’t like the sackman. I want to fight with you, Papa!”
Rhys gaze slid to mine, and then back to Mortium’s. I counted to three before Rhys finally gave in to his puppy eyes. Rhys crossed over to him, and bent down, ruffling his curly ash brown hair. “I think Mama would be a much better teacher…” Rhys said it all with a sly glint in his eyes.
I raised my brow, certainly ready to oblige him. “Of course, considering you did so terribly last night,” I fired back, smirking.
Not around the children, he admonished down the bond. I still caught the undercurrents of thrill in his tone, and grinned because of it. Mortium grasped the situation, like he always did, with two eager hands, taking me by the wrist and hauling me over. I picked up a disregarded wooden sword, Mortium racing around to face me. His face took on a feral note and then he charged. He was quick, and I almost missed it, barely blocking my thighs.
Distracted? Rhys chuckled, a languid caress phantom stroking me. In reply, I shut up my walls and stuck a poster with Prick written in bold letters over my gate, just for him. (I jumped back and then carefully went for Mortium’s arms.) A moment later he laughed distantly from outside my walls.
Mortium then unleashed a series of wild swings, growling and hissing. I sidestepped and blocked with ease until he screamed suddenly and I felt a battering at my mental walls. I reeled back. Mortium’s face was clouded over in concentration, and then properly clouded over as thrashing smoke and searing light surrounded him, emanating out like flames in the wind. I immediately raised up a shield, spreading before me like a lens. I could see Rhys watching out of the corner of my eye, arms folded, prepared to intervene if need be. Mortium’s magic had only barely begun to surface, along with his wings, but this time it was much more powerful. As I opened up flashing cracks in my shield, sending through my own magic before closing back up my defence, Rhys said gently through the breakages in my mental walls, Be careful with him.
I’m trying, I gritted out.
Silence, and then, It’s okay to stop.
I pushed out the wave of darkness that followed, Rhys tensing in my line of sight, of when I had used this technique not on play fighting with my son, but surrounded by enemies upon enemies upon enemies, pushing through them, fearing for my mate’s life and my friends’ life more than my own, praying for my infant son’s safety.
A sharp crack sounded in my ears—I gasped, No! as the wave pushed back—as my shield fell to pieces and Mortium’s magic smothered me in a hug. He came up to me, grinning, before actually hugging me, his face tucked into my stomach. “I won Mama!” He turned to Rhys. “Papa, did you see that?”
Rhysand smiled, full of warmth, and enveloped us. His mouth was at my temple, which he kissed. You’re here, you’re safe, it’s done, we are a family, we are all together.  My heart rate slowed, Rhys nuzzling me as he felt my breathing deepen. “I did Mortium. I’m very proud of you.” He pulled back. “Have you been practicing?”
Mortium avoided our gazes. I locked eyes with Rhysand, groaning mentally. He’s been with Cameron.
No doubt about it, Rhys replied.
What is that boy doing to our son?
His brow arched. Remember when they almost blew up half of the statehouse?
Caused an avalanche?
Raided the kitchens?
Interfered with the guest lists so everyone’s names would have ‘sausage’ in them?
We laughed. Lord Sausage Tarquin, I giggled.
“I’ve been practicing with Cameron,” Mortium finally burst out, staring up at us, expecting the worst.
Our gazes snapped to his. I beat Rhysand to it, though he complained through the bond. (Subtlety, love, I replied. I felt him rear up in challenge: I’ll show you…subtlety against a bedpost, he purred.) I raised my chin, coming into parent-mode. “Mortium, you know our thoughts on Cameron.” His bottom lip stuck out petulantly. “As our son, a lord of the Night Court, there are expectations upon you.”
“But we were only practicing!” he protested, his face flushing.
“Practicing or terrorising?”
“Practicing, I swear Mama!”
Rhys quirked a smile, shifting over to look down at him. “What did you learn?”
Immediately, Mortium closed his eyes, his brow furrowing, fists clenched tight—Rhys jolted slightly and then laughed. A second later, Mortium shrieked and giggled, his face scrunching up before he wrapped his arms around Rhys. I watched with delight, laughing myself.
He’s learned some daemati tricks, Rhys whispered reverently. I knew he was taking in as much as he could, trying to preserve the moment forever. Perfect. It was perfect, I suddenly realised— the clouds stretching across the perfect blue sky, Velaris shining below us in gorgeous colours, the river winding through and the sea on the horizon, and my family, all together and happy—and tears pricked in my eyes. I wiped them away quickly before it broke the moment.
I’ll paint it, I husked back. Rhys looked up, eyes glinting, and then spun Mortium around to win another of his gleeful shrieks. He set him down. “Now, Mortium, I think you’d better wash up downstairs and then attend your classes.”
He groaned, but an assertive snap of fingers and a brow raise from Rhysand and he trudged off, feet heavy on the stairs. His beautiful little head disappeared.
Immediately, I was in Rhys’ arms, my face in the hollow of his shoulder. “I heard that,” he gentled. His voice was tinged with emotion.
“Sometimes it comes back hard,” I replied, closing my eyes and letting myself believe all that was here was us and the comfort of each other in the warm morning sun.
“I know.” He caressed me both down the bond and on my back. I sighed, letting the weight float off me. I stepped back—his face lifted and then twisted as I gave him a look. I raised my hands, my magic pooling in them and humming in my body.
“You said something about subtlety…?” I prompted, placing myself into a fighting stance.
“Oh, yes,” he purred, a fire flickering within the hum. “And bedposts, also.” We began circling each other. I repaired my walls, leaving only a crack for our communications—soon, that would be sealed too.
“We’re both so very out of practice,” I said. His smile flashed—I sealed the crack—and then we engaged.
My magic burst out as did his, I throwing up defences and shields, flashing replies, light and fire and smoke withering between us. Rhysand’s arms of darkness snapped at my body when I was sloppy, while he tried at my mental walls. I struggled to half my concentration, but once, I had been able to eighth it. Now, with the War over and both of us enjoying what remained and rebuilding more I had relaxed and—
Relaxed, darling? he purred. My gaze snapped back up, away from my thoughts, and I raced to kick him out, throwing up a shield before his shadows and smoke. Rhys’ face was pure wickedness. I had about four seconds before he tried to—
Distract you, Feyre? But don’t I do that without any effort anyways?
Jumping forward, I opened up my shield and sent through a flash of boiling water—he misted it away with a sweep of his arm. I started at his own mental walls, running my hands across the vastness of them, trying to find a crack. There was none.
Immaculate, I know. No need to flatter me.
You’re going to regret this later, I hissed back, though—I built a little wall around this thought, immediately drawing his attention; he prodded curiously—I couldn’t deny how the chase, the game, sent my insides swirling indulgently.
What was that, mmm?
We shifted forward and back, our magic colliding. I dropped my shield and sent a wave of black his way. He grunted, and the distraction was all I needed to locate him—in my memories, the arrogant bastard—and kick him out, closing the door behind him. He grinned and I bounced my eyebrows in challenge.
“My, my, my Lady. That was impressive,” he gave, my darkness wafting away from his face. I balled my fists and then pounced at him.
He hit the deck with a grunt, I straddling him, going for his face. He blocked them with ease—a little image of me in my racy underthings down the bond and my fist took his cheekbone. He barked and—Oh my, I gasped, shuddering, his phantom finger sliding down my body. Distracted, he flipped us over, pinning my hands above my head. His eyes flicked down to my lips; I arched my body, pressing against him, feeling him soften…mostly. As he leaned down, I snapped myself up in a wave, throwing Rhys off me, and then, laughing, raced towards the edge of the roof, my glamour fading away to reveal my wings, spreading behind me like maple leaves, the veins of the leaf the elegant lines of my bones. Rhys’ feet pounded behind me, but I had already jumped off, angling down and close to the face of the cliff, with the wind rushing around my body and the adrenaline rushing within. Velaris rushed up to me, and then I opened my wings, immediately shooting up as the air caught under them with a snap. I saw with delight that Rhys was beneath me, and saw him slow and shoot downtown. I send pulses down the bond. Catch me…
At this distance, our bond was limited to words, though his words carried enough phantom touches. What’s in it for me?
I slowly circled high above, seeing his form flash through town, darting over a Palace and then gliding over the river. You’ll just have to find out.
When he still seemed disinterested down below, I added a sultry moan in—he reared up, landing on a bridge, and spun around to me. I floated in an updraft, both of us still, before he jumped up into the air and bolted for me. I watched him, wings downsweeping powerfully, propelling him to me. Just as he was another sweep away from me, I tucked my wings in and fell like a pin. My stomach pulled into my throat, and involuntarily I screamed, whether from horror or excitement or both, staring up as Rhys corkscrewed down after me. In the connection between us, I felt his determination but also his dread, prepared to catch me if—
I glanced down, and only just managed to twist around and pull up, roller-coasting back into the sky, my wings straining to hold the force. Mentally, I heard Rhys gasp; behind me, I could hear his wings pounding the air, as were mind. My hair was pulled back like someone was holding it. I banked right and down, locating hastily a street, and then with the greatest care, let go of the air and fell, hitting the ground with a roll, the wind knocked out of me. Those around me choked, jumping back—I ran past them, going left and right into streets and alleyways, feeling Rhys a sun god slicing above, searching for me. I made sure my walls were tight so he would not know where I was, and just in case, tried to phantom stroke him. I couldn’t and I sighed with relief, my blood roaring. As much as I wanted to escape him, to win the chase, more and more of me wanted him to find me, to see what he’d do to me.
Feyre! Rhys barked. I grinned to myself and slipped inside a shop.
The attendant glanced up and balked when she saw me. I put my fingers to my lips and tapped my head. She nodded and looked down, going back to her work. Then when I realised where I was, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. Red velvet, black lines, intricate fabric…
Well.

A Little Faith, Trust, and Exceed Dust

a/n: this one is a little shorter than the rest, because the next part is gonna be a doozy guys. (yes i am a seventeen year old who just said doozy. fight me. not really i’d probably cry

Chapter 4

They landed shortly after, on a small cliff that overlooked the smoking ship below.

As soon as his feet touched the soft patch of grass, the young girl pushed away from his chest.

“Explain,” she demanded of the surprised boy, tears in her eyes now that they were away from any danger. “Where are the Lost Kids?” She jabbed a finger in his chest before pointing down towards the water. “Tell me how they weren’t caught in that awful, unnecessary explosion!” 

That’s when she heard giggling coming from behind her, and she whirled on her heel to see the faint outline of four or five children farther down the hill, a ball of light fluttering above their heads. 

Happy, he must have saved them in time.

+

Previousy:

Lucy, distracted by the boy in the treetops, accidentally grabbed hold of a branch slick with moss. It caught her off-guard and she lost her footing, crying out as she dangled by one hand several feet off the ground.

“Natsu!”

Then, it snapped under her weight.

Natsu!”

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Dinner Plans

So @mia-a03, the birthday girl, tagged me in this prompt and I read it a bit too fast too early in the morning and interpreted it my own way. Ooops? Hope you still like it! <3

———————————

The blast of green energy slammed into Tony’s chest plate and knocked him clear off the rooftop. He only just managed to steady himself in the air before he started dropping toward the street below.

”Shit!” He spun around in time to see Loki straighten up from the crouch he’d curled into to throw the spell at him. ”Okay, I get it, no on sushi.” Tony didn’t even pause before flipping a palm up, aiming a repulsor beam for Loki’s chest in turn.

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Great Horned Owl Head On by Grant Brummett Photography 27 Million Views!
Via Flickr:
I photographed this close up portrait of a Great Horned Owl during the raptor free flight program today at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum near Tucson, Arizona, You know how I love birds and I must say this Great Horned Owl was simply stunning. I will be posting more photos of it and other birds I photographed there in the coming days. Best viewed Large click on All sizes in the menu above. Canon EOS 5D Mark II camera and Canon EF 100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS USM lens Some information from Wikipedia on the Great Horned Owl (Scientific Name bubo virginignus) Owls have spectacular binocular vision allowing them to pinpoint prey and see in low light. The eyes of Great Horned Owls are nearly as large as those of humans and are immobile within their circular bone sockets. Instead of turning their eyes, they turn their heads. Therefore, their neck must be able to turn a full 270 degrees in order to see in other directions without moving its entire body. An owl’s hearing is as good – if not better – than its vision; they have better depth perception and better perception of sound elevation (up-down direction) than humans. This is due to owl ears not being placed in the same position on either side of their head: the right ear is typically set higher in the skull and at a slightly different angle. By tilting or turning its head until the sound is the same in each ear, an owl can pinpoint both the horizontal and vertical direction of a sound. These birds hunt at night by waiting on a high perch and swooping down on prey. They also have 500 pounds per square inch of crushing power in their talons. An average adult human male has about 60 pounds per square inch in his hands. In northern regions, where larger prey that cannot be eaten quickly are most prevalent, they may let uneaten food freeze and then thaw it out later using their own body heat. Exposure: 0.003 sec (1/400) Aperture: f/7.1 Focal Length: 340 mm ISO Speed: 160 Exposure Bias: 0 EV Flash: Off, Did not fire