golden knuckles

An accurate description of every FAHC aesthetic post (including my own)
  • Geoff: liquor, money, mustache, tattoos.
  • Jack: floral print, red hair, planes.
  • Ryan: skulls, blood, varying weapons, Diet Coke.
  • Gavin: Union Jack, gold, money, "golden boy."
  • Michael: bruised knuckles, bloody nose, curly hair, freckles.
  • Jeremy: purple/orange, cowboy hats, sunglasses, gymnastics.
  • Ray: purple, sniper, weed.
  • Bonus!
  • Lindsay: pink, red, cats.
  • Mica: purple(!)
  • Meg: knives, underwear, red, guns.
Ch 34/? - The Golden Age That Never Was (RotG/Blackice)

Title: The Golden Age That Never Was (34/?)

Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Jack Frost/Kozmotis ‘Pitch’ Pitchiner
Characters: Jack Frost, Kozmotis Pitchiner/Pitch Black, E. Aster Bunnymund, Sanderson Mansnoozie, Toothiana, Nicholas St. North, Jamie Bennett, Seraphina Pitchiner, The Man in the Moon, Tsar Lunanoff, Tsarina Lunanoff, Cupcake.
   
Warnings/Tags: Hurt/comfort, Whump, Angst, Book & Movie Combination, Friendship, Minor Character Death, Slow burn, Abuse of Power/Authority, Dysfunctional Relationships, Power Play, Corporal Punishment, Adventure, Space Opera (kiiiind of), Golden Age, D/s, Initiation, Kink, Injury, Grief, AU, apologies to canon enthusiasts and people who love authentic representations of space. (Please see AO3 for more tags).                  

Summary: Soldier in training Jack Overland is approaching the day of his initiation, finally he’ll learn how to fight back against the living darkness and serve the Tsar and Tsarina Lunanoff. More importantly, maybe it will get him closer to Royal Admiral Kozmotis Pitchiner, Jack’s hero, champion of the people. If only anything ever worked out the way it should.

The Golden Age that Never Was - Chapter 34 - The Tsar of Many Things

In which Jack and the Tsar have a conversation, and the author of this story runs away to avoid the projectiles that they know will be thrown in their direction as a result of this chapter. O.O

Miss .45

Originally posted by drreiid

Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

Requested by a lovely anon!

Summary: Most actresses would jump at the chance to play in a role opposite from their husband, but when your role opposite from your husband Matthew is designed to cause pain, it’s far from a dream come true. Based on the episode Entropy. 

Word count: 1,545

A/N: This is my first time writing for MGG so bear with me if it’s a little rough! There are also some spoilers within since it is based on 11x11. I would love to know what you thought! 


Being an actress meant that you had grown accustomed to a multitude of things throughout the course of your career.

Early morning wake up calls with equally late nights on set, script changes coming within ten minutes of filming, months on end spent away from the comfort of your own home, and even invasive encounters with unapologetic paparazzi.

But yet, the act of having another person apply your makeup for the day was one that you could never fully grow used to.

“Dayne, you do realize that you can apply mascara without destroying my cornea in the process, right?” your eyes darted upwards at the makeup artist whose wand-wielding hand inched closer and closer to your line of sight.

A chuckle resonated from Dayne as he took a step back from you, “I can’t tell who’s harder to work with,” sarcasm dripped from the smirk he wore, “You, or your husband.”

At the mere mention of Matthew, anxiety clenched your chest tight, but you managed to pass it off with a breathy laugh, “Just be glad that it’s me you’re putting fake lashes on instead.”

It was unusual, and incredibly unsettling, to experience such apprehension at the thought of even seeing your husband whilst preparing for your first role opposite him.

After meeting at the Tribeca Film Festival for his film ‘Magic Valley’ it was written in the stars from then on out for the two of you to be together.

Three years of dating and another two years of marriage later, Matthew and yourself had never once starred in a film together, despite both of your affinities for indie films, which only made it even more shocking when he arrived home from the Criminal Minds set one night with a script gripped in his hand.

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EXO reactions: Mafia AU

“Love consists in this, the two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other.”


Xiumin - was worried about your safety. He knows how hard it was to fight nine people, but he can’t help you at the moment for he has his own fight to take care of. “Y/N! Leave now! Run! I’ll hold them back!” he yelled before charging towards another man in black with the bat he picked up from the ground. You shook your head. “Not this time!” After the last person launched towards you fell, you turned to his direction. Minseok was fighting three men at once and the fourth one was about to interfere. So you decided to join in to. They can’t harm him. Not when I am in the same battlefield as him.

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

Suho - was furious upon seeing three black vans waiting outside your university. He noticed it the moment he arrived that’s why the current fistfight is happening. His enemies attacked him from every direction. He was still fighting, until one of the man decided to use a knife to injure Junmyeon. That’s when you began to interfere. With the golden knuckles he gave you, and the taser you always bring, you knocked out the man with a strong blow right in the jaw. I won’t let anyone touch him. I won’t let him die.

Originally posted by yoursurrendermain

Lay - Three days. You’ve noticed that heavily tinted van outside for three days. Today, you didn’t constrained yourself to check it out. Little did you know, Yixing noticed it too. So, he decided to pay you a visit, only to be welcomed by a man hitting him from behind. Without hesitation, you picked up a meter-long stick before launching towards the bad men. They dared to hurt the man I love, now it’s time to make them pay.

Baekhyun - He was staring at you while his hands were tied behind him. The bruise on his cheek began to swell. After receiving an alarming phone call, you hurried to the abandoned warehouse where they held him captive. His lips parted as he watches you beating every person blocking your way. After he told you about his secret identity, he decided to teach you how to fight. You fought almost everyone using a piece of two-by-two wood. When they were all on the floor, you went towards Baekhyun and unchained him. “Wow…” he mumbled. “Don’t be too amused. Someone called for a back-up. You have to help me.” “O-Of course.” “I love you,” you said. He leaned in for a kiss only to be interrupted by the loud battle cry of the back-up. “Be safe,” he reminded. “Always.”

Chen -  Thirty minutes of continuous fighting exhausted his body and you know it. His gang were beaten up by their foes too and you can’t just hide behind those doors while watching them from the window. ‘I can’t always be the damsel in distress.’ you thought. So, you picked up the metal pipe you saw at one corner before opening the door. ‘There’s no holding back,’ you repeated in your mind. Your eyes widened when you saw a man behind Jongdae who was about to hit him. Without second thoughts, you hit the man in the back which made him stumble. Jongdae looked up at you, then at the man you hit. “Not bad.”

Chanyeol -  After beating every men who tries to harm you, your arms began to shake and your knees were about to fail you. The pain suddenly vanished when you saw a man standing behind Chanyeol. Without another word, you picked up a small pottery on the center table and threw it towards the man. His eyes widened after hearing a loud thud behind him, and then he turned to you, chuckling. “That’s my girl.”

D.O. - Lancaster Knights, the gang who is your mortal enemy ever since you entered the mafia world, surrounded Kyungsoo’s car who was waiting for you that time. You glared at the goons before launching at them. You wouldn’t let them ruin your date day with Kyungsoo, not again. After ten minutes, you entered Kyungsoo’s car while wiping your sweaty temple. “That was a good fight,” he complimented before chuckling. “Tss. You didn’t even helped me.” “That was your fight.” “Mmm… where are we going this time?” “Anywhere you want to.”

Originally posted by awwsehun

Sehun - was a little impatient while he was tied on a chair, but he knew he just have to wait patiently especially when the greatest enemy of your group were ganging up on you. After few minutes of a bloody fight, you made your way towards him and freed him from the chair. “You could’ve died,” he mumbled while staring at you. His eyebrows were knitted, frowning. “But I didn’t.” He sighed heavily before kissing you. “Thank you, princess.” “You’re always welcome, my prince.”

Originally posted by kimwoobinseyebrows

Kai - “You have to leave now,” he whispered as he began to gasp for air. For some reason, in the midst of your date, someone manage to slip a sedative in his drink. Around three meters from your seat, you noticed few people smirking while looking at your way. They are the same people who were following you for the last few days. “No. I’m not going anywhere.” “But they will harm you.” You shook your head in response. “Watch me.” You mumbled before calling your own gang for back up. As they made their way towards your direction, you pulled out your nunchaku as if you’ve expected it to happen. You place a chaste kiss on his temple before smiling. “I will protect you this time.”


Originally posted by minniedeer

A’s Note: I didn’t noticed earlier that I just need to write Sehun’s and Kai’s part. Thank you for waiting patiently. Oh, and you can request here. Accepting scenarios, reactions etc. as long as it’s EXO. 

ribbonsandchocolate  asked:

Scenario: Peter meeting his girlfriend's parents soon after they start dating?

OK, so he would be the cutest, most awkward gentleman. He would spend all day at school that Friday talking about it, asking questions that are kind of ridiculous; you answer patiently anyways, gentle smile on your face because you know he’s just super anxious.


“What if your mom wants a hug and I go in the wrong way and we bump heads?” He was holding his head in his hands, fingers woven through his curls in tight clumps, leg bouncing a million miles an hour, bumping into your knee as he fidgeted in his seat.

“Oh, she’ll definitely want a hug. She’s a hugger,” you said between mouthfuls.

“Well does she go to the right or the left when she hugs? I need to know. I want to be prepared.” You did your best to hide your smile.

“Peter, you give the best hugs, you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re probably right,” bottoms of white teeth peeking out from beneath his lip as he worries at a chapped and slightly plumped lower one, funny brows pinching together as his mind raced. His thoughts were everywhere but on the tray of untouched food in front of him, sounds of the busy cafeteria lost on deafened ears; ears that were already running conversations across drums.

You forked at wrinkly peas and soggy carrots, vegetables almost making it to your mouth before bouncing waves whipped and crashed against his forehead as he turned to you abruptly, “Your dad, when I shake his hand, do I use both hands or just the one?”

Setting your fork back down on your tray, tender smile on your face and a twinkle in your eye; your hand reached for a set of sweaty fingers, “Peter, they’re going to love you. I do, so they will, too.”

His tense eyes softened and a smile finally found its way to his face as he released the last of his anxiety in a quiet puff of air, “You love me because I’m so handsome and charming, right?”

“More like awkwardly endearing, but sure, Peter.”

“Oh come on,” and he was pointing at his face, head tilted, angling his jaw at you in just the way he knew you liked, his messy brows raised and a goofy smirk on his lips, “I’m totally charming,” toffee waves falling over his pale forehead in that way that made your heart skip and that accentuated the amber honey of his bright eyes, the stupid, slightly wrinkled t-shirt, with the stupid, completely ironic phrase: “Forget lab safety, I want superpowers,” scrolled over his chest, and you had to smile because he was right.

Peter was charming in his own Peter sort of way.

“Ok, fine, you’re maybe a little bit charming,” golden knuckles pumping the air in victory.

“I’ll take what I can get.”

Journey to the Roots - Part 1

\o/ – Part 2

So this was inspired by some fanart for this au by @illustratedacorns beep and @artsycrapfromsai boop. Go check out both of them, they’re both really great artists.


Her head was pounding; it felt like she’d drank a gallon of Mabel-juice with a Smile Dip chaser and was hitting the critical crashing stage. She groans, struggling to pull the collar of her sweater over her face and escape to Sweater Town until the feeling passed. Her stomach feels like it’s about to turn itself inside out. “Diiiiiipper, I’m dying!” the whine is out before she can even process the thought.

“No clue who Dipper is, kid, but if you’re going to die, could you do it somewhere else?” The voice is oddly familiar but most definitely not that of her brother.

Mabel’s eyes widened and she’s scrambling to get out of Sweater Town. “WHAT?!” her collar tugs down to only cover her mouth; she has to blink rapidly as she looks around where she’s at. She’s—wait, how did she get in the Stanley Mobile? And why was there so much more trash—ooh, new surprise tacos! She reaches to grab one only to have her wrist grabbed by a large hand. Oh. Right. The source of the voice. That was a thing. She traces up the arm, clad in a grimy red jacket that looked like a crime against heat as well as fashion, to the owner of both it and the voice. “WHAT?!” she screams again.

The circles under his eyes are much less pronounced with only the beginnings of crow’s feet at the corners, though they’re currently narrowed at her. His face is unshaven and unwashed; his hair is long and greasy and brown. It’s a little unnerving how much he resembles her dad. He drops her wrist at her second scream and lifts both hands in a telltale ‘no harm’ gesture.

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“Star Platinum is Jonathan Joestar’s Ghost” Theory

Ok, so I don’t know how to start theories or stuff but I can do very well explaining them, since this post will get really long if I just do it here, on the Link I will explain 4 aspects of why I think, Star Platinum is Jonathan Joestar’s Ghost, still suffering by DIO’s curse to Joestar Family. THIS WILL, OF COURSE, CONTAIN LOTS OF SPOILERS

1.      Similarities on their Appearances

2.      Star Platinum’s details vs. Other Stands’ details

3.      Similarities on their attacks and poses

4.      Behaviour

EDIT: Forgot to compare opening 1 and 3, also I added the gifs

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Still deciding on what design to give Evil Stan!

Definitely want to keep the triangle motifs since we know Bill canonically likes to spread hints of his existence everywhere, even more so on his loyal minions. I contemplated giving Stan a toxic red jacket but I like him in black a fair bit, too. He’s got golden brass knuckles and a variety of weapons hidden on his person. Using Bill’s powers he can manifest many more.

The mask manifests to let him breathe no matter what planet he’s on. It also makes him look like a muzzled dog, which pleases me.

One Step Ahead, Chapter 7: Border Edges Pt 2

“We should stop here for the night,”  Celaena said, pulling into an empty rest stop parking lot.  

Rowan startled, he’d just closed his eyes for a second before Celaena’s voice broke through his small moment of peace. Frowning, he looked around, “What?  Here?”  There was nothing here.  It was just a parking lot, a large plot of land decorated with picnic tables, and a small restroom shack that was poorly lit.  From the looks of it, it didn’t even have a vending machine.

Celaena had been driving since the diner, and that had been over five hours ago.   Since then they’d stopped twice, once for a bathroom break, and once more to to grab dinner at a McDonald’s and stretch their legs.  So it was understandable, really, that Celaena was tired and would like to stop for the night.  Rest up for another full day of driving, no doubt, but here?  

“Yes, here,”  she looked at him with raised brows, You got a problem with that?  She silently asked.

Why here?  His eyes asked in return.  There was nothing here, after all.  He couldn’t find the reasoning behind it.  “Why not stop at that Holiday Inn a few miles back?”

“A few miles back?”  Celaena repeated, a brow quirking in amusement.  “Rowan, that was over two hours ago.  You fell asleep, remember?”

“I fell asleep?”  His brows shot up and his green eyes darted to the clock on the dashboard.  She wasn’t lying.  “What the–” he muttered, dumbfounded.  It wasn’t like him to let his guard down like that, to allow himself to be so vulnerable, especially in front of someone as lethal as Celaena Sardothien.  Still, he realized as he took an internal inventory of himself, he felt refreshed.  He didn’t think that was possible, not from a two hour car nap.

Looking back at Celaena, he saw the look she was giving him, You gonna repeat everything I say?   

Unable to help the grin forming on his lips, his eyes flashed with a challenge, Maybe . What’re you gonna do about it?

Verbally, he asked again, “Why here?”

“We passed the border into Terrasen a few miles back.  We’re in Oakwald right now,” she shrugged, turning the car off, “no hotels in sight.”

“So, what,” Rowan asked suspiciously.  “We’re camping?”  Celaena, from the intel he’d gathered, didn’t seem like the camping type.  Not the woods type, anyway.  Maybe she’d go to a spa in the middle of a mountain range, but roughing it on the cold, hard ground?  Seemed unlikely.

“Mhm,” she hummed, unclipping her seatbelt and opening her door, “Tent and stuff’s in the trunk.”

And stuff was right.  In the trunk was a tent, two camping lanterns, three quilts, two blankets, a queen sized inflatable air mattress, and a few other odds and ends.  Whistling lowly, the white haired man asked, “Where’d you get all this?”  

“Walmart,” she crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed her hands up and down her arms.  With the sun down it was getting a little chilly out.  She opened her mouth, then paused, contemplating if she wanted to continue.  Then, “My parents and I used to come here, when I was little, actually.  This was our camping spot.”

Rowan tried not to stare.  Really, he did, but that was the first piece of personal information she’d given him.  It felt … important.  Like the puzzle that was Celaena was starting to come together, like Rowan had received a precious border piece.  

“Now come on,” she said, grabbing a lamp and turning it on, “we gotta get this set up.  Preferably before sunrise.”  She grabbed the tent before smiling up at him, “I do need my beauty sleep after all.”

Rowan laughed and shook his head before grabbing the second lamp, the air mattress, and some blankets.  They spent the next half hour setting up the campsite, trying to make it as comfortable as possible for the night.  About halfway through the setup, Rowan realized there was only one tent, and only one air mattress, so, the avoid any possible awkwardness, offered, “I’ll take first watch.  Since I had the nap.”

Celaena shot him a wry look, but turned away before he was able to decipher what she was saying behind her gaze.  “Sounds good,” she said, then continued on with her work.  

Once everything was set up, Celaena went inside the bathroom shack to attempt to freshen up.  Rowan stayed behind to look after everything and was laying down on his back, looking up at the night sky–he could even make out the Lord of the North–when his phone began to buzz.  Pulling it out from his pocket, Rowan accepted the call, “Vaughan,” he greeted.

“Rowan,” the other man answered.  Vaughan was a straightforward man, a business man through and through, and never liked to waste words.  So Rowan wasn’t surprised when he got straight to the point, “Orlon Galathynius, born in Orynth, Terrasen in 1940.  Occupation: Owner and CEO of  Galathynius Inc., a business conglomerate that included, but was not limited to, shipping services, construction work, and steel manufacturing.  Married Weylan Darrow in 1963 and was widowed in 2001.  He was murdered in his estate in Orynth in 2006, and, with no living heir, his business and all his assets passed to his only living relative: Maeve.  

“Rhoe Galathynius, Orlon’s only son, was born in Orynth in 1965 through an unnamed surrogate.  He was raised to inherit the Galathynius business, and specialized in revitalization projects; most notably, restoring the Library of Orynth.  In 1987 he married Evalin Ashryver, and in 1995 they had their first, and only child, Aelin.  

“As with Orlon, both Rhoe and Evalin were killed in 2006 while visiting the family estate.  All three persons had their throats slit in their sleep, and it was deemed a cold case by the police after three months of investigation.  There were no leads, and no suspects, save for Adarlan’s Assassin, but that was never substantiated.”

Rowan nodded to himself.  That was everything he’d discovered on his own.  Still, something was missing.  Thinking back to his conversation with Celaena back in that bakery, he asked, “And the granddaughter?  Aelin?”

A beat, and then, “That’s where things get … weird.”  Rowan sat up, intrigued.  “Her body was never found at the crime scene, and at first the police believed it to be a kidnapping; a ransom.  But after a week with no call, they categorized her as a missing person and …” he drifted off.

“And?”  Rowan prompted, confused by his colleagues hesitation.  

“And,” Vaughan continued with a sigh, “that’s it.  Officially.  There’s no more police reports about her.  They just … stopped looking.  Usually, when it comes to little white girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, the entire country puts out a man hunt, but for Aelin … there was one media blast with her picture and some other details, but that’s it.

“There were rumors, of course,” he added, hesitantly.  Rowan didn’t think he’d ever talked so much in one go.  “Rumors that whoever killed the Galathynius’s took Aelin and chopped her up into tiny pieces,” Rowan hummed.  He’d heard that one before.  “That she got away from the attackers and has been living on the run ever since.  That whoever killed her family raised her as their own.  It’s all bull shit.”

Licking his lips, Rowan asked, “Did you find a picture of Aelin?”  He hadn’t thought to look for it earlier.  He hadn’t looked for any pictures besides the crime scene ones, truthfully.  But something wrinkled in the back of his mind.  Vaughan hummed an affirmative.  “Send it to me.”  He paused, then asked, “Was there anything else?”

“No.”  And then the line went dead.  

Rowan shook his head and chuckled under his breath.  Celaena walked up behind him and asked, “What’s so funny?”  Her eyes said, What’d you do?     

Shaking his head, he responded, “Nothing, it’s nothing.”

Raising a brow, but not pushing it, Celaena headed for the tent, “Okay, wake me up in, what?  Four hours?”

“Sure.”  He fiddled with his phone, setting a timer, when a text from Vaughan came in.  Opening it, Rowan’s brows furrowed as he registered what he was looking at.  It was a picture of Aelin Galathynius, he knew that.  He’d asked for it.  But she looked just like … green eyes snapping over to Celaena’s form, lying on the air mattress, Rowan felt something shudder in his psyche.  Suddenly, with blinding clarity, he had all his border pieces.

“Aelin,” he called out quietly, a test.  He knew he was right, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to be.  Celaena didn’t move, and Rowan’s heart thundered in his chest.  He realized he’d been too quiet, so he tried again, “Aelin?”

“Hmm?”  She cracked an eye open to look at him.  It only took a moment, just enough time for her to blink at him, for her to realize her mistake.  Eyes wide, she shot up in the tent, a Swiss Army Knife at the ready in her hand.  So many things, so many words, emotions, scenarios flashed behind her blue eyes.  

Not moving, Rowan tried to come off as non-threatening as possible, I’m sorry , his eyes said.   I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry .  But with his voice, he said, “You can put the knife down, Aelin.  I’m not going to hurt you.”

Adarlan’s Assassin barred her teeth at him, “As if you could.”

Raising his hands, Rowan tried again, “Aelin–”

“ Don’t call me that! ”

“–what happened to you?”  She was a child, Rowan thought, just a child when her family was stolen from her in the dead of night.  When she lost her childhood.  If Rowan had one rule, if anyone in the Underworld had one rule, it was to never harm a child.  Aelin was only nine when the assassin came for her family, only nine when–

“ Maeve happened to me,” she snarled, her blue eyes shining with golden fire.  Her knuckles, still clutching the knife, though it was no longer pointed at him, had turned white.  

Rowan blinked, his brows furrowing as he stared uncomprehendingly.  That didn’t make any sense, Maeve wouldn’t have done this.  Rowan knew Maeve, had been in her service for almost a decade now.  She was the one who made the rules–who enforced them–she was Aelin’s family.  There was some miscommunication somewhere, Rowan knew it.  He just had to get Aelin talking, get her talking and then he could sort this all out.  He could sort everything out.  He was a Cleaner for rutting sake, he could fix this–

Bright lights flared up in the distance, blinding Rowan and making Aelin flinch.  The sound of engines revving thundering as a horde of motorcycles pulled into the parking lot.  “Shit,” he heard Aelin curse behind him.

“You know them?”  Rowan asked, his gut already telling him the answer.  He wished he had his gun on him, but the daggers strapped to his ankles would have to do.

“It’s The Bane,” Aelin told him.

The Bane.  A Terrasen based gang whose sole purpose was to wreak havoc for the crime bosses of Rifthold.  What the rutting hell were they doing here?  Now?  What were the odds?  Narrowing his eyes, he glared at Aelin, You knew they were coming, didn’t you?     

Aelin wasn’t looking at him, though.  She was looking straight ahead, at the leader of The Bane who was dismounting his bike.  Pulling his helmet off, the gang leader’s long, golden blond hair fell around his shoulders in waves.  Pushing it out of his face, he walked towards them with a cocky smirk adorning his face.  

As he came closer, Rowan realized with a start that he was looking at the male version of Aelin.  They were almost identical.  

The gang leader had eyes only for Aelin, and walked straight up to her.  Aelin, for her part, scowled at him and looked ready to throw a punch.  Maybe Rowan was wrong, maybe she didn’t know they were coming.

“You’re early,” Aelin said, crossing her arms over her chest.  So she did know.  Rowan could throttle her for this.  He barred his teeth at her, but she steadfastly ignored her.  

Shrugging, the gang leader’s smirk widened, “Patience was never my virtue, cousin.”  Cousin?  Well, that cleared up their resemblance.  But, Rowan thought indignantly, cousins ?

Finally, Aelin’s stony expression relented and she smiled softly up at the gang leader.  Reaching up to pull him in close for an embrace, she whispered, so low only Rowan who was so close could hear, “I missed you, Aedion.” 

Baby Don’t Hurt Me (Bumbleby)

“What do you think love is?”

Blake looked up from her position underneath her shady tree. “So sunsets make you philosophical. I hadn’t realized. It makes sense, though.”

“I dunno.” The shape of sunlight shifted as Yang plopped down next to her. ”Maybe I’m just in a mood to be thinking about lovey-dovey stuff!“

Giggles. Blake shut the third volume of the Grimmborn Saga. "It’s a simple enough question. But … it’s also a very complicated answer.”

Yang’s looked at Blake from the corner of her eye. “Need some time to think about it?”

“No. No.” Blake traced the patterns the sun and the shade created on the cover of her book. “I have an answer. It’s just … complicated. And messy. And somewhat long-winded.”

And then, suddenly, there was a blonde head in her lap. “Got all night.”

That coaxed a smile out of Blake. And, eventually, a response. “I’ve heard that love is patient, and love is kind.” The book was set aside. “I know others believe that love is selflessness – that it means sacrificing for someone else, and putting their needs above your own.”

Skin slid along fabric as Yang titled her head. “You don’t think that’s right, though?”

“I do, but …” Fingers found their way to yellow bangs. “I think there’s more to love than that. At least, the way I see it.”

Yang hummed, quiet, eyes slowly drifting shut. “Take your time.”

Golden tangles drifted over knuckle and nail, and for a while, Blake did. “It’s easy …” She paused, for another curl, another daffodil strand between index and forefinger. “It’s easy for me to feel worthless, sometimes.”

Yang’s eyes snapped open. “What?”

“Like I’m the first draft of a better book than me.” Blake bit her lip. Just a little. Just for second. “Meandering, too wordy, too depressing. Heh. About half a million dangling plot threads.” Fingers over bangs, fingers over bangs. “And probably a heartbreak, on the last page. Pointless.”

For a moment, there was only the setting sun.

“. . . you know, if it helps …” A knuckle pressed itself, gently, into Blake’s thigh, and began moving. “I’ve always thought you were the best book I’ve ever read.”

“Hmm. And then, whenever I feel that way, you go and say something as simple, and as complicated and, mostly, as … sweet as that.” Blake watched a falling leaf as it settled on Yang’s stomach. “And all at once, I’m reminded that we write our own stories, and more than that, we make our own points. We make them, and decide how bright they shine, and put lines between them to connect them into the shape we want them to be.”

“Blake …” Yang spoke so softly, and almost certainly too loud for her own satisfaction.

“Isn’t that remarkable?” Blake spoke softly, too, and barely breathed. “One sentence from you, and I go from feeling meaningless to feeling like a constellation. Isn’t it amazing that, as hollow as I can feel, you hold me and touch me and remind me how to fill me up with myself? Isn’t it incredible that I feel braver than I’ve ever been with you at my back?”

“Hee, hee. You’re gonna make me blush, kitten.” Too late.

“Sometimes, as silly as it may sound, I even think I don’t deserve you.” The sun was setting fully, now, casting shadows over the curvature of Yang’s face. “And then you rest your head in my lap and look at me as though I’m someone you can trust. And I, in return, can’t help but trust you.” Fingers traveled slowly from forehead to cheek, tracing a path between old aches and pains. “A lifetime of being lied to, and manipulated, and led on a leash … an existence of feeling pointless and empty and scared and undeserving. Then you come along, and you tell me the truth, and I believe you.” Blake sighed, fondly. The breeze felt so nice on her uncovered ears. “Wholeheartedly.”

“You realize you’re probably giving me way too much credit, right?” Even when she was lying down, wind found plenty of purchase to glide through Yang’s lengthy golden locks.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Blake allowed her eyes to wander, just for a moment, before looking directly into Yang’s own gaze. “Do you know what I thought to myself when I looked in the mirror, this morning?”

Yang had pressed her palm onto Blake’s own, some time ago. She pressed, now. “What?”

Blake had fought so many smiles – but she refused to fight this one. “I thought: ‘wow. I look beautiful, today.’”

Yang took her turn at giggling. “You look beautiful every day.”

“Exactly my point.” Her heartbeat felt so slow, and so fast – all at the same time. “Love, you see, is when someone cares about you so, so much … that you start caring about yourself.” Blake breathed in through her nose, and out through her mouth. “True love is a good night’s sleep.”

Yang was quiet for a while – long enough for the sun to nearly finish setting.

“Well, that’s what I think, anyway.” Blake shrugged, settling back against her tree. “What do you think love is?”

“Nah, I think you might be right, actually.” The words were a gentle murmur. “But … there’s one more thing I think about love.”

“Oh, really?” Blake raised her eyebrow. “And that is?”

Yang smiled at Blake, like the world unfolding.

“I think I might be talking to her.”

Costumes

Carefully constructed plastic lining lips,
filling out branded skirts with silicone,
bathing in golden greed and turning
knuckles into brass at the price of
blood diamonds and rivers running into
floating sludge as decaying carcasses
with nooses of cleverly marketed bottles
wrapped around their bloated necks drift
by on melting icecaps of liquid chlorine,
homes with floors of deforestation and
wasted space six feet below from an
overpriced mahogany coffin, we try to
protect our overpopulation outbreak
with a mass-production of paper and a
nine to five of mutilated dreams bought
from our own educational brainwashing.

Some of us don’t need a costume for
Halloween,
We wear our human suit every day.

- B.

Agent Hemmings Part 2

Originally posted by cashtonkinks

A/N: I’ve decided this will be a multiple part imagine 

Part 1

     What they were about to do went against every protocol in the book. Broke every rule and was about to risk both their lives, and their jobs. It didn’t matter though, because one of their own was in trouble and whatever it took, Luke was going to get you back. 

“Dubai?” Luke confusedly said, “What the hell is Professor Bilgi doing in Dubai?” All four of the boys were staring at a computer over Ashton’s shoulder with furrowed eyebrows. Ashton had managed to hone in on your tracking device bracelet, finding the exact location you were in; Southwest Asia. It surprised Luke, not believing Bilgi was able to get that far in just a couple of hours. Luke ran a hand through his hair a frustrated sigh leaving his lips. 

“Hey don’t stress, this mission is a piece of cake!” Michael said, trying to show some positivity. Luke scoffed at his words, eyes darting out the tiny window to see if anyone was passing by. They had waited until late at night to come back and continue everything without everyone around. Ashton using his hacker and tracer knowledge to pin point your location. 

“How are we going to get there in time? It’s a 15 hour flight…I don’t even know how Bilgi got that far either.” Luke hit his hand against the door in frustration. The longer you were away from him, the more his worrying grew  

“Look we can get this done. We’ve gone to different countries all the time in just a few hours, and did you forget…” Michael commented, smirking at the three boys. “I have the keys to one of the jets.” He dug into his bag, pulling out the keys and swirling them around his finger. 

     Luke was rusty. Two years of not being on the job and his body chose now to disagree with the time change. He used to be accustomed to the jet lag, over coming it and doing the job at hand. Now Luke was nearly passed out in the backseat as they were driven to a hotel that was near your location. He was woken up by the car coming to a halt. Luke jumping from his sleep and rubbing at his eyes. It was hot, his skin burning with the sun beating down through the windows. He yawned, eyes squinting up at the hotel in front of him. “Bilgi is located somewhere over there,” Calum mumbled to Luke, pointing over his shoulder at a smaller building next to the hotel. Luke nodded, placing on a snapback and sunglasses, a minimal disguise so they could make it to the lobby without being recognized. Luke stopped halfway to the door, staring at the small building in determination. “I’m coming for you baby. Just sit tight,” he whispered more to himself than anything.

“That’s the transmitter device?” Ashton questioned, sounding unconvinced as he picked up the small electronic that looked similar to a calculator. “I thought you told the Director you didn’t have this,” he looked at Luke with raised eyebrows, trying to figure out what he knew.

“I didn’t know I had it, or what it was until she told me. I swiped this after the last mission…do you think you could make another one? Except make it not work,” Luke said. Looking over his shoulder for a split second to see what Calum was up to.

“You’re talking to a genius here. I’ll make a copy,” Ashton grinned, heading to work. Luke turned around, eyes wide as he watched Calum pull out weapon after weapon. The bed being lined with them. Each of the boys had their own strengths; Ashton with the tech, Calum the hard ass with muscles, and Michael with his way of getting any and everything. 

“I see you got some new toys,” Luke chuckled, picking up a pair of golden spiked brass knuckles. Calum loved gadgets and weapons, he thrived on them and it was like each year he got a new set. The bed was scattered with a bunch of weapons; guns, knives, arrows, grenades, you name it. 

“Yeah I did, this one right here is my baby,” Calum said, picking up a crossbow. “Now she may look like an ancient weapon, but this girl right here is deadly,” he began to explain. Luke laughed, shaking his head at how passionate Calum started to become. “Half of these bows are laced with poison. She also shoots out stun darts, and these are highly explosive,” Calum explain, carefully grabbing the explosive arrow from Luke’s hands. 

“Man you’re crazy,” Luke said, receiving a grin from Calum in return. Luke stretched out his arms, looking around the room in confusion. “Where’s Michael?” he questioned, plopping down on the second bed that was clear of weapons. It didn’t take long for the person of topic to enter the room. Michael walking in with his arms filled with snacks and a glint in his eyes. He was too quiet for the situation at hand, making the other three boys curious to what was going on. 

“What’s with that look?” Ashton asked, turning back to figuring out how to copy the transmitter device. 

“I just got entail that there’s going to be some event going on in the building next door. Sounds like one of the Professors moves doesn’t it?” Michael said, earning a nod from Luke. “Anyway I was chatting up this hot girl right and she’s telling me about the event which she’s going to be working at which is next door,” Michael started. “I managed to get a date with her and also get you three inside.” Luke grinned at his best friend’s words, eyeing each of the guys. 

“Ashton, how long will it take for you to make a copy?” he asked.

“About a few hours, maybe six if none of you interrupt me,” Ashton replied.

“Okay that could work. What time is this event?” Luke asked, turning to face Michael.  

“Starts at three ends sometime around one am,” Michael said, “All we have to do is not draw attention to ourselves. So Luke, don’t go bat shit crazy when you see the Professor. Think logically, find Y/N, get out. If Bilgi gets to you first give him the copy of the device, get Y/N, then get out…we’ll be right behind you.” Luke nodded, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. These three boys were going to risk everything for him. They were his brothers and he looked up to each of them. 

“I don’t think I said this yet, but thank you,” Luke said in a low voice. Words sincere and full of love. His hand dug into the pocket of his jeans, felling the velvet box of the engagement ring. Just a few more hours and soon you’ll be back in his arms.

Smoulder Chapter 14

Summary: In which angst happens and we all meet Tomato sons boyfriend!
Read on Ao3  or FF.Net

Smoulder
Chapter 14

The first thought to cross Adrien’s mind was don’t panic.

Well, that was a lie. It was the first coherent thought. The ones which came before had been a cacophony of tangled emotions and questions, half-formed in his mind. Jumbled words such as Marinette, Nathanael, holding hands, walking away- together?

As he fought the crushing waves of panic, the nausea settling in the pit of his stomach, the shadows which coiled around his limbs, all of which telling him something was amiss- he tried to rationalise what he’d just seen. Even as he felt the rug pulled out from under him. The rapid change from liberating joy to suffocating dread was like running head first into an invisible wall. Helpless, defenceless, he was left watching the scene unfold before his eyes, with only his warring rationalisations for company.

They looked at each other with such joy.

Friends. They’re just friends.

He picked her up!

Maybe he was just excited about something?

They held hands, they looked like they were going on a date.

Stop jumping to conclusions.

Adrien swallowed painfully, hands curling into fists as he watched the pair walking away- still hand in hand. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight, no matter how much it unsettled him. Frozen in place, all he could is let Marinette slip out of his sight, get further and further away just as he’d believed she’d been so close.

“Oh man,” a voice appeared at his side and it took all his will to pull himself together, to place his model-mask on. Nino had caught up to him, was standing by his side. He, too, was watching Marinette and Nathanael as they rounded the corner and disappeared from view, “I hope those two aren’t an item again.”

A funny thing happens when you hear something you don’t want to. It’s not quite time standing still, instead it’s almost like the words filter through slowly- deliberately- as though to cause maximum damage. Because, until that final word lands next to the others to form a complete sentence, there’s hope. The hope is wrung out, stretched and twisted, disfigured but there. And then that last word, that damned last word, settles, and the hope is all but snuffed out.

That’s how Nino’s words struck Adrien. He could scarcely comprehend what he’d just heard.

But his heart clenched, oh how it clenched, reminded him how he was still very much alive. It squeezed in his chest until he thought it might burst from fear. No it couldn’t be possible. It couldn’t… his Lady wouldn’t lead him on unless…

Unless he’d been wrong?

Unless she wasn’t Ladybug.

But he’d been so sure!

“Wh-what do you mean ‘an item’?” He didn’t want to know. God, he didn’t want to know. Don’t tell me Nino. Don’t tell me what I know you’re going to tell me.

Adrien was vaguely aware he was trembling, but Nino wasn’t watching him. Instead, his friend had two fingers massaging the crinkle between his eyebrows, his eyes scrunched together tightly.

“Those two. They dated last summer- sort of. When you were in Italy with your dad.”

Keep reading

@jestbeast requested a meeting with the Queen!!

DEVOUR.

“Hey, wait, come bacccck!!” the villain PLAYFULLY jeers at her prey as they scramble hastily out of the narrow alley & into the dark street, a frantic Hero with his uniform completely in tatters, the clothing trailing behind him in red tipped streams. he slips on his own blood & Queen barks out a laugh when he falls f l a t on his face & doesn’t get up.

she waves around her stained weapon in glee, the golden knuckles glinting like hungry teeth in the low lamp light. “It’s rude to die so quick, ya know?!!” she pouts, voice loudly echoing. she moves to inspect the body but pauses at a SUDDEN sound.