hair aim

Luna. Moths.

Harry Potter fanart of a grown-up Luna Lovegood with some moths in an attempt at art nouveau style. Really just an excuse to paint those moths, because they are beautiful. Also a pun. And a poem:

my naym is art-
ist and i drew
thees pretty things
tu post for yu
it’s just mai fails
yu do not see

i sigh and pres
ctrl + z

wen i mak arts
of maydns fair
so lovly fraymd
wis nudle hair
why must i tor-
ture myself so?

i shak my hed.
fuk art nouveau

A Hidden Shot of Yuuri and Viktor

This is a picture at Yuuri’s home, during a costume fitting session when Viktor is fixing Yuuri’s hair for him. I aimed for a more subtle sexiness than a direct one. It’s probably a picture secretly taken by the skating otaku triplets. (Lol)

This is from the MIRACLE!!! on ICE booklet, which came with the January edition of Animage.

It says on Kirishima’s Bio that he likes everything that’s manly, He’s always pointing how manly kacchan is THEREFORE by my calculations, this must be his situation right now

Compensation and Consequences: One Shot Request

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Light sexual assault (more implied than anything else) SMUTTY SMUT SMUT SMUT! Blow job, fingering, unprotected sex,  Dom!Bucky, Game of Thrones AU

Word Count: 4028

Request: “Can U do a smutty Bucky game of thrones inspired one shot”

For an anonymous requester 

Authors Note: So this is a game of thrones AU and to be honest I’m kind of into it. Anyway enjoy my slutty, smutty, little drabble! 

Feel free to submit prompts or requests for drabbles and one shots!

“It’s very simple, you take one more step, and I’ll loose this arrow straight into your chest.” You snarl, your bow drawn back, the string tightly pulled against your jaw as you stare forward at the dark haired man, aiming right below the leather buckle that held his warm furs tight around him.

“You would speak with such hostility towards your King?” He asks roguishly, his eyebrows raising as he smirks at you, almost daring you to fire upon him. “What does the title of King have to do with it? Everyone’s king nowadays. There is nothing to the title anymore, so tell me…” you pester, raising your arrow to his face as you close one eye to help with aiming, “What makes you so special as to be named King?”

He shrugs gently, smirking slightly, unable to give you a firm answer to your question, “Nothing in particular, just a concern for my people.” You laugh dryly, your head falling back as the loud sound rips from your chest. Your bow remains trained on his chest, despite your mock amusement

“Concern for your people? We are dying in the streets, our soldiers waging your war while you flit about recklessly, walking out in the open without even a guard… and you deem your quest noble under the guise of concern for your people.” You snarl at him as your head rears back, sending a large chunk of spit flying forward towards him, landing at his feet.

“I defy your lordship.” You growl unwilling to lower your arrow, “I defy you as my king.” He moves slightly, smirking up at you through heavily lidded eyes, moving slowly without fear towards you.

You do not hesitate, making good on your warning as you send the arrow flying from your bow, sailing towards him. He steps effortlessly to the side, avoiding your shot. You move quickly attempting to notch another arrow only to feel the sudden presence of multiple men surrounding you, their own bows pulled taught as they all focus on you.

“Put the bow down Lass,” a tall man steps towards you, a large sword sheathed at his belt, his sandy brown hair cropped short, a thick beard framing his jaw. His stature is tall, his shoulders pushed back as he approaches you defensively.

You continue to hold your bow taught, blocking out the sudden appearance of over a dozen men as your aim continues to rest on the supposed king. “This is how you care for your people?” You snarl, glaring at the king as his head guard advances on you, his hand moving towards his sword.

The king’s hand rises suddenly towards his guard, “Steven. That won’t be necessary.” Your bow relaxes as you look to the guard named Steven, noticing his defensive state as he freezes in his motion.

“A King of the people you claim to be? You take our fathers, our brothers, our blood… And when we fight back, you silence us.” You yell loudly through the street, directing your hateful words to the king before you, as your bow drops down, relaxing your string.

“Take her.” Steve orders sharply as his guards move in on you, dropping you to your knees as they bind your hands in front of you. You do not struggle, knowing the reputation for soldiers and their willingness to dole out pain or other forms of consequences.

They hoist you roughly to your feet as they lead you out of the street towards a tavern up the road.

You are thrown roughly on a bench, the men nearby leering at you over their flagons of ale. You shift uncomfortably under their gaze, hunching slightly as you try to wheedle the shoulder of your tunic back up, the loose fabric having slipped down at the roughness of your captors.

The men cackle and jeer at you, making vulgar comments about what they wish to do with you. The kind of comments only to be found in the repertoire of despicable men. The men’s calls get louder as Steven rises from his post in front of you, leaving you with a younger guard as he moves towards the back entrance of the tavern.

Within moments the fervent words of the men turn to perverted actions as one man steps drunkenly forward beside you, pulling at your bonds and forcing you to rise. “It’s about time I got some compensation for my hard work, a little gift from the king, huh?” He motions to you, making jest of your situation to the other men, a couple of them rising to their feet to join him.

The man pushes you up onto the table, moving in front of you as your foot flies up to kick him in the chest, rolling backwards off the table, your heavy skirts flying over your head as you land on your feet on the other side.

Your escape lasts only for a moment before a large man forcefully grabs you around your torso, your arms pinned painfully to your side as he lifts you from the ground, your legs thrashing about through your heavy skirts as a few men step forward to attempt to grab at your ankles.

“Finally some reward, and such a pretty little bitch too.” A man gapes as he moves forward, gripping your skirts in his hands as you thrash about, suspended helplessly in the air by the surrounding men. You scream, trying desperately to wriggle free as the men jeer around you.

“Release her at once.” A man bellows through the great hall, his voice reverberating with menace as it echoes. In an instant you are returned to the floor, falling to your knees as your arms press tightly to your form, your bonds preventing you from correcting your disheveled garments.

You look up to see the stunning blue eyes of the King as he advances towards you, the crowd of soldiers parting in his wake. You recoil slightly as he bends before you. Pulling a knife from his belt, he slits the rope binding your wrist.

Storing the knife, he rises to his feet, removing his cloak from his back and crouching down to wrap the warm and heavy fur around your shoulders. He straightens slightly, extending both hands to you to pull you to your feet. You accept his assistance as you rise to stand on unsteady legs, the adrenaline causing them to shake beneath you.

He takes you by his side, guiding your hand to wrap around the crux of his arm, your face remaining blank. You stare emptily ahead of you, the shock still coursing through your veins. He turns sharply towards your would be assailants, swelling threateningly to his full height, anger rising in him as his eyes darken to grey, with no trace of the enchanting blue you had just seen.

“If I ever again in my life see you touch a woman in such a way…” He growls, his voice low and clipped, his orders clear. “Mark my words the payment will be a body part that will force you to never again have an impure thought of any woman from that day onwards.” The king smirks slightly as the men cross their knees uncomfortably, understanding the severity of his threat as they fervently murmur their understanding to their lord.

The King nods, seemingly satisfied as he turns, keeping your arm tucked tight beside him as he steers you towards the stairs. You ghost alongside him, your brain still having difficulty catching up to the situation at hand until you are entering a large bedroom as the King closes the door behind you.

You stand there, looking at the King as he detaches from you, wondering what his intentions for bringing you here could be. “Can I get you anything?” He smiles kindly, raising an eyebrow as he pours himself a glass of wine, “A cup of wine? Some food perhaps?” His eyebrows raise as he gestures to the table in front of him, encouraging you to take from the small feast.

Your eyes flick back up to him, noticing the bewitching soft blue tone that has now returned to his eyes as he smiles kindly at you, “My freedom.” You growl, your tone low as your arms wrap defensively around yourself.

“Ahh well…” The King chuckles awkwardly, his hand rising up to pull uncomfortably through his hair as he moves gracefully towards the dresser, undoing the ties of his leather vest. “I can’t very well do that, now can I? You left me no choice when you shot at me…” He speaks sadly, almost regretting the difficulty of his position.

“For now I can offer you only earthly desires, you will stay in my company for your protection, within the week a trial will be held, and I, as a ‘merciful King’ will pardon your indiscretion, saying that you know not what you have done.” He chuckles as he leans back in the chair, his feet rising lazily to rest on the corner of the table.

“You’re going to let me go?” you stammer in surprise, looking at him with confusion, still standing by the door as you clutch his cloak around you. “Of course I am…” He smiles, his eyebrows raising at you, “I would have allowed you to walk away today if you hadn’t shot at me.” He smiles, motioning you to come forward.

You move hesitantly, lowering yourself into the seat beside him, your eyes never moving from his face as he grabs at the food in front of him. “Why?” You ask quietly, your eyes falling from his face and darting to your lap as he turns to look at you.

“I wasn’t lying to you today when I said I have a great concern for my people. Though I may not fully agree with the war Rob Stark is waging, I do think it will be what is best for the people of my region. It is my wish to only take willing and wanting soldiers, but the fame and glory that come with war ensnares many a young man, and they volunteer to race to battle without realizing the very bloody consequences they will find there.” He speaks quietly, leaning towards you, his blue eyes burning into your skin as your heart pounds quickly under his bewitching gaze.

“My lady, I am sorry that you feel that I have taken things from you, that was never my intention. I will not demand that you honor me as your King, I respect your desire to defy me, but I will implore you to consider that I am perhaps not as bad as you have come to believe. Certainly not bad enough to warrant an arrow in the chest?” He smiles, laughing slightly as a sheepish grin pulls across your face.

Your eyes flick up to him once again, your breath catching in your chest as you look at his shimmering blue eyes, the ghost of his laugh present in his gaze. “Perhaps I have underestimated your lordship.” You smile slightly as he leans back in his chair.

“Please, you shot an arrow at me today, I think we are far past formalities, call me James.” He chuckles, bowing his head slightly to you with the introduction.

You laugh lightly at his words, feeling a pang of regret at your actions from earlier when you barely knew the man you were firing at. “James…” You speak slowly, a smile pulling at his cheeks as you say his name. “Y/N.” You speak quietly, giving him your own name. You pause for a moment, reaching for the wine and pouring yourself a glass, you take a long sip before mustering up the courage for your next words.

“James I am sorry for my actions today… It is no excuse, but I had just received word of my brother’s death this morning. He was a soldier in your army, not like the caliber of the men below. He was good, kind, perhaps a little head strong.” Your eyes begin to flood with tears and you are unable to control them as they drip down your lashes.

James moves quickly, rising from his chair to kneel beside you, offering you a handkerchief as he takes your hand in his, rubbing small soft circles on the inside of your palm.  

“I had taken to the streets to console myself, to mourn privately. And I happened across you. I blamed you, and in a way, I dishonored my brother’s memory by discounting his choice. I wanted revenge, I wanted to feel like I could blame someone, and there you were… I never meant.” “Shhhh.” He soothes, wiping the tears from your cheek, his hand moving softly through your hair as he comforts you.

“I understand; you need not explain more. I am so deeply sorry for the loss of your brother.  I do not know what I can do to repair the terrible tragedy that has befallen your family, but name it and I will see it done.” You stand roughly from the table, pulling away from him, your arms crossing in embarrassment across your chest.

“I had you all wrong.” You whisper, shaking your head as your hands pull anxiously through your hair. “I had thought you a coward, a horrible man, willing to let others die doing his bidding as he sat in luxury. But you are caring and kind… and…” Your voice breaks as you cry once more, James rising to his feet and moving towards you, wrapping you gently in his embrace, your sobs unrelenting as he pulls you against his chest.

“Please… please stop this Y/N, you need not upset yourself. I understand, you are forgiven… please… do not weep on my behalf.” he whispers softly, his hand brushing gently against your hair again as he comforts you. You pull back from him to connect with his gaze, his arms still wrapped tightly around you.

Your head swims slightly as you look at his clear, sea like, eyes. Your knees growing weak as you take in the full sight of his appearance. His dark stubble cut along a perfectly angular jawline, his full pink lips a sharp contrast in the dark hair. His eyes are kind and soft, his long curtains of dark hair falling into them slightly as he looks down at you.

Without thinking your hand rises up, pushing his hair back from his face as your lips move swiftly to his, connecting in a forceful kiss. His arms tense around you pulling you closer as his lips move in response to yours, your fingers tensing in his hair as he pushes firmly into the kiss.

He pulls away sharply, releasing you and stepping back, “No… we shouldn’t… I shouldn’t.” He speaks quickly his eyes darting from you as your face flushes with confusion. “You are grieving, Y/N. I have already been the subject of one of your mourning consequences today, do not tempt me to be a second.”

You stare at him for a moment. Though you are appreciative of his concern for you, you feel the overwhelming pull in your abdomen for satisfaction from the king. You stare at him biting your lip as you allow his fur cloak to drop from your shoulders, exposing your tunic sleeves hanging on your biceps, the thin fabric barely covering your breasts, your tight bodice underneath pushing them upwards in a place of prominence.

He eyes you, looking you up and down as his jaw tenses, his pupils blown wide with lust as his hands rake fervently through his hair. “We should… you should get some sleep.” He says gruffly, moving quickly past you without a second glance to move the blankets on the bed, exposing the soft mattress.

You shrug out of your tunic, allowing it to fall to the floor as you step towards him, clad only in your bodice and full skirts, your breast falling and rising noticeably with every breath you take. You step in front of him your hands grazing his hips, as you force your gaze to match with his, taking in his piercing blue eyes once more.

His lip draws softly into his mouth as he looks at you, his teeth biting fervently at the pink flesh. “My judgement is no longer clouded with grief… I am finally seeing things as they are… seeing you for who you are.” You whisper, your lips ghosting up to place a gentle kiss along his tensed jaw, your hands, sliding along his waist to his belt.

You slowly kneel in front of him, holding his gaze as he watches you, your fingers fumbling with his buckle as you undo it. “I want you, my king… this is my choice… you are my decision.” He draws in a quick breath as you pull down his leather riding pants, his quickly hardening cock springing to attention in front of you.

You look up at him imploringly as his hand slides down into your hair, gripping softly against the base of your neck as he nods pleadingly, his fingers twitching you forward. You move at his touch, connecting your lips with the tip of his cock, feeling his thighs tense in front of you at your touch.

You move slowly, your tongue swirling around his tip, before sliding down his shaft, moving in response to his breathing changes as you tease him. You finally take mercy on him as you lick back towards the tip, taking his shaft in your mouth as you slide his whole length deep into your throat.

He moans loudly, his other hand rising to grip the bed post beside him, his legs tensing in front of you. You move slowly, sliding your mouth up and down his shaft, causing his hips to respond with wanting of faster movements.

But you are unwilling to comply, enjoying your forced torture of him as his blue eyes look down at you imploringly. You look up, holding his gaze defiantly and something inside of him changes, his eyes darkening as his pupils widen.

His fingers tense against your scalp, the sharp sensation causing you to moan with pleasure as he pulls your mouth off his cock, his other hand coming down to your waist to pull you to your feet, slamming his mouth harshly against yours, his hand ravishing your chest, grasping roughly at your breasts as you moan in his grip.

He pushes you back against the bed, guiding your hips onto the mattress. He kisses you passionately, his lips moving fervently along your neck, his one hand wrapped around your waist keeping you locked against him, as his other moves between your legs, pulling your skirts feverishly upwards, trying to reach your core.

You feel a warm glow form in the bottom of your stomach as his hand glides along the inside of your bare thigh, your clit throbbing for the contact of his fingers, already soaking from his passionate kisses. His hand stops just before touching you, his fingers curling ever so gently against the inside of your thigh.

He stops kissing you as his eyes flash to meet yours raising an eyebrow as if asking for permission. You hurriedly nod, “James… please…” the words were all he needed as his hand moves quickly against you.

Two fingers slip easily inside of you as his thumb moves up to provide pressure to your aching bundle of nerves, “By the gods darling, you’re soaking.” He moans, his lips moving fervently against your neck as your hips buck against his hand.

He moves quickly, administering just the right pressure to your clit as his fingers curl inside you. With a particularly rough nip of his teeth at your neck you finally topple forward into your orgasm, your walls gripping fiercely on his fingers as your head falls backwards, a relieved moan falling from your lips.

James moves his mouth hungrily to yours, catching you in a deep kiss as his fingers pull from you, eliciting a small whimper from you. He looks down smiling at his wet fingers, slipping them into his mouth to taste you as his eyes connect with yours, his eyebrow cocking slightly. You moan at the site of him enjoying your taste, the wanting between your legs starting to grow again.

You reach feverishly for his neck, your fingers sliding into his hair as you pull him roughly to your lips, tasting your own sweetness on his tongue. Your hips buck forward as you spread your legs widely, locking your ankles around him to pull him closer.

“Y/N…” He moans softly as the tip of his cock grazes your wetness, as he rubs it teasingly up to your clit. “Please…” You whine, moving your hips forward as you beg him to enter you. His stance widens on the floor in front of the bed, as he positions himself at your entrance, sliding slowly inside of you as you moan at the divine sensation.

He growls slightly, his hands gripping onto your hips as he begins to move slowly inside you, his head swimming at the sound of your breathy moans and the incredible sensations as he is engulfed in your warmth.

“James… I…” You stammer as he begins to speed up, his hips snapping against you as he thrusts deeper and more forcefully, causing your head to roll back, your fingers gripping tightly in his hair. His thrusts become hurried and rhythmed as he moves rapidly against you, building you both up to orgasm.

You feel your walls clench as the damn breaks, your eyes rolling back as you moan loudly again, your legs gripping tightly around him, your body shaking in his grip. His arms wrap tightly around you, holding you against him as he continues to thrust up into you, the pressure becoming too great as he tips over into his own release, jerking against you as he holds you tightly, burying his face in your neck.

You stay there for a moment, breathing heavily as you both hold each other. His lips kissing gently along your jaw, to your lips, and finally a soft kiss on your forehead as he leans you backwards on the bed, releasing you on the soft mattress as he pulls himself from you, moving towards the wash basin as he pulls off his tunic, exposing his sweat drenched skin.

You watch him from the bed breathing heavily, your eyes widening slightly at the sight of his perfectly chiseled chest, his sculpted back muscles tensing as he washes his face in the basin, drying off quickly before wetting another towel and coming to kneel in front of you with the wet towel.

He raises your skirts once more, his hands softly gliding up your legs towards your core. He uses the wet towel to clean you off, pressing soft kisses to the spaces that the towel had passed over. After a few moments, he pulls back, helping you to sit up as you unlace your bodice, dropping it to the floor as you move to undo your skirts as well.

You stand naked before him, his eyes raking up your bare body as you move back onto the bed, pushing yourself under the covers, James following quickly. You settle beside each other, his arms wrapping comfortably around you as you rest your head against his chest.

His lips press softly to your forehead, his breathing steadying as you smile, moving your fingers tenderly along the muscular lines of his bare chest. “Now knowing the comfort of being with you like this, it might be impossible for me to let you go.” He says quietly, his hot breath fanning across your forehead.

You smile, tilting your head up to look at him, “Then don’t, my King.” His lips press down against yours moving slowly in a kiss. He smiles as he leans back on the pillow, pulling you closer against him, sighing quietly, grinning up at the ceiling as he speaks softly “I suppose that settles it then, I am never going to let you go.”

Forever Tags: @imhereforbvcky @heismyhunter @feelmyroarrrr @sapphire1727 @colt-eleven-impala-sixtyseven @lilacs-lavender @thisisthelilith @callamint @himasugi @amrita31199 @ailynalonso15 @thewintersoldierprogram @watch-out-for-thorns @givemethatgold @eloquentpetrichorpeculiar @kristygear @winterboobaer @magicintheelements @frolicsomefawkes @danstrash @bridgeneem @mitra-k-w @coffeeismylife28 @cornflax01 @emmatheawesome @creideamhgradochas @movingonto-betterthings


You and Sam had gone your separate ways after your heated make out session and as it would happen, you both tossed and turned, unable to sleep with one another.

The bunker was frigid and you had a massive migraine coming on. You searched your room for your emergency stash of narcotics, but came up empty.

Cursing, you made your way to the stock room, bathrooms, and finally the kitchen. Climbing the counter, you searched blindly for the pills Dean usually keeps on hand for emergencies. Knocking a glass, it shattered, and you heard scuffling from the hallway.

Turning, you see Dean in his pj bottoms, sans shirt, hair mussed, gun aimed.

“Jesus, YNN, you tryin’ to get shot?”

“You figured me out,” you teased.

“What the hell you doin’ anyways,” he placed the gun in his waistband and helped with picking up the glass shards.

“I can’t find any pain killers, massive migraine forming.”

Dean opened the one cabinet you hadn’t rummaged through, grabbed two bottles, and filled you a glass with water. “Pick your poison, narc or ibuprofen?”

“My hero,” you reached for the aspirin and downed three.

“Nah, just your friendly neighborhood watch, your hero is flopping around like a damn fish outta water in his room.”

“Guess I’ll go check in,” you pecked Dean goodnight and thanks and walked to Sam’s room. Knocking gently, you heard his muffled response to come in. He was on his side, one arm under his head, the other reaching for you.

“Can’t sleep,” he mumbled and you padded across the room, got under the covers, and he pulled you close.

“That’s better,” his nose was ticked by your hair but he didn’t care.

“What were you doin’ up, YNN?”

“Migraine, looking for painkillers.”

Sam rolled over, got out of bed, opened the tiny dresser drawer and you heard rattling as he placed a bottle of ibuprofen next to you on the nightstand.

“All you had to do was ask,” he pecked your temple, got into bed behind you and massaged your neck.

“Rest, I’ve got you.”

Originally posted by enjoyingbeingme

taitumdiarcheldan  asked:

Jim, Spock, & San Francisco

jim: are you a leader or a follower?

I mean it really depends. If someone else takes the leader role I’ll be a follower but if no one is the leader then I will step in.

spock: what’s your opinion on bowl cuts?

Well I had one when I while I was growing my hair out after my hawk days where over. When growing out your hair it is acceptable but not as a legit hair style to aim for.

san francisco: a place you’d like to visit?

Iran. I have family there and it would be great to see my home country at a time when I can actually remember it.

google search how to get my parents to understand that I like having art and design just be a hobby and that I don’t want to have it be my job


A Castle in Disneyland, Cal. 1962 by Diane Arbus

Nearly 45 years after this photograph was taken, comedian (and former Disneyland employee) Steve Martin would write about witnessing its creation in his autobiography, Born Standing Up:

My final day at the Magic Shop, I stood behind the counter where I had pitched Svengali decks and the Incredible Shrinking Die, and I felt an emotional contradiction: nostalgia for the present.

Somehow, even though I had stopped working only minutes earlier, my future fondness for the store was clear, and I experienced a sadness like that of looking at a photo of an old, favorite pooch.

It was dusk by the time I left the shop, and I was redirected by a security guard who explained that a photographer was taking a picture and would I please use the side exit. I did, and saw a small, thin woman with hacked brown hair aim her large-format camera at the dramatically lit castle, where white swans floated in the moat underneath the functioning drawbridge.

Almost forty years later, when I was in my early fifties, I purchased that photo as a collectible, and it still hangs in my house. The photographer, it turned out, was Diane Arbus.

I try to square the photo’s breathtakingly romantic image with the rest of her extreme subject matter, and I assume she saw this facsimile of a castle as though it were a kitsch roadside statue of Paul Bunyan.

Or perhaps she saw it as I did: beautiful.