have all the strength of a raging fire

4

Summary: So this is for the magnificent @kaitymccoy123 Spring has Sprung Challenge. Kaity so kindly bestowed upon me the prompt of “If I ever see you anywhere near her, you’ll have to deal with me.” The character of Scotty and the color Red.

Pairing: Hate to burst your little bubbles but this is just implied Scotty/reader

Warnings: Domestic violence/abuse, some serious pinning

A/n: I just want to thank Kaity for this. I’m so proud of this. It has taken me a lot of work and rewriting. It was such a pleasure to write. Also, I’ll leave an explanation at the end of the story after the tags if you want to read it. Just some extra author notes. Okay, I’ll shut up now. Enjoy the story.

Word Count: 5110 (Holy shit. Guys this is a long one)

Keep reading

Question - What is the most attractive quality to you in a romantic relationship?
  • Sokka: Big bust *thumbs up*
  • Aang: They must be gentle *looks at Katara and blush*
  • Katara: I'm already in love with Aang. He's the perfect man to me. Isn't it, sweetie?
  • Toph: Eeeh, whatever.
  • Azula: To call a man my partner, he must be an equal to me all respect. And we should rule the world together.
  • Zuko: They must be… swift as a coursing river, with all the force of a great typhoon. With all the strength of a raging fire… mysterious as the dark side of the moon!
  • Mai: Stop flattering me, Zuko.
  • Sokka: So they have to be a man?
  • Aang:
  • Katata:
  • Azula:
  • Mai:
  • Zuko: heo don't do it
  • Toph: I THOUGHT YOU LOVE ME
The Predator Q&A Masterpost - Part 1

Just a few things before we dig in

  • The reason I’ve made this a masterpost is because the asks for this story are totally dominating my inbox. (And not just the infinite ones asking about the update). I wanted to reply to most of them in one place in order to not crowd anyone’s dash. I cannot thank you guys enough for showing such keen interest in this story and flooding me with so many interesting questions. Thank you! 
  • In the case of receiving the same/similar question multiple times, I’m only replying to one. In case an ask was too spoilery, I’ve not replied to it. I’ve chosen the questions in no particular order at all. 
  • It’s 50 questions for now.
  • The asks here are mostly anons. I’ll respond to blogs privately unless the answer would be something that would interest the readers.
  • This has been a long time coming and I’m so sorry to make you wait and thank you so much for being so patient! 
  • In case your answer isn’t here and I haven’t responded to your ask, I might not have received it, in which case, shoot me again. If this masterpost thing works, I’ll do another for the other stories as well and other parts for this story.
  • I hope you find your answers here. Enjoy!

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Oooooh Philinda + kissing pls and thank you

(SORRY this is so late im terrible!! or tbh college is terrible so like what can u do

i really hope you like it tho and pls don’t stop sending these to me, i love em, i promise!!)



He wondered if it’d feel the same.

But he wasn’t sure if he had the right to wonder. He’d drank the Haig with someone else. He hadn’t realized it wasn’t really her for far too long. He’d let his feelings get in the way of one of his most important duties: to protect her.

Yes, she was completely badass. He knew she could take on the entire world in a heartbeat.

But she couldn’t always protect herself.

So, he’d taken that as his mission. But he’d failed. He’d failed her. He’d failed her in Bahrain. He hadn’t been able to save her from Aida the first time. Or the second. 

He’d failed and he’d let her down. He had no business wondering if kissing the real May would feel the same as kissing the fake one. Or if kissing the real May would even be an option.

He’d failed her and he had no right to wonder. Or to have dreams about it. Or to look at her lips and think about it. 

So he tried not to. He really, really tried.

And he failed that too.


She hated that she didn’t know what he was thinking. She usually did. She’d learned his tells, she’d learned how he functioned. But there were times when he’d pull away from her and she’d have no idea why. Or, she knew why. He was hiding something from her. But what? And why?

No idea.

She was supposed to know him. She was supposed to know him and everything important there was to know about him so she’d be able to protect him. She hated when he purposefully kept her out of the loop, when he kept her at arms length.

Hated, hated, hated it.


He was pretty sure she was mad at him. He didn’t know why, but it made everything a whole lot easier. He’d always been bad at pretending around her. Somehow, she always knew. So he had to keep her away.

But he missed her. He hadn’t had her for so long, and now she was here and he still couldn’t have her. Because he just had to have been so damn stupid. Because he just had to love her the wrong way.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.


He was sitting at his desk, trying to figure out their next move and trying not to miss her, when Daisy rushed in.

“May… There’s something…”

She was pale and looked terrified, her breath short in her throat. 

“I don’t know what’s happening, she just collapsed and…”

“Where?” His voice was surprisingly steady for someone who’d just gotten a knife through the heart. Or it felt like he had, anyway.

“The medbay, Simmons was checking her when she just collapsed and-”

He was already out the door.


When he arrived, she was laying on an examination table and she wasn’t moving. Neither was his heart.

Simmons looked up as he barged through the door, but then she’d turned all her attention back to May. She put a needle in her arm and her fingers gently and affectionately stroked her skin.

“She’s ok.” she said, smiling, relief clear on her face. “She’s dehydrated and completely exhausted, but she’s fine. Just needs some rest.”

He breathed again.

Simmons continued. “I want to get her to a bed, she needs to sleep now and-”

“I’ll do it.”

Jemma and Daisy looked at him, then at each other. He could’ve sworn they’d shared a little smile.

“That’s fine, Sir.” 

He went to the table and scooped her up in his arms, grabbing the pole with the dripping bag with his free hand. Her body felt warm against his and he took a tighter grip around her shoulder and torso. He told himself it was so she wouldn’t fall, but in reality, he just felt a strong need to hold her.


She woke up with a hand in her own. She hadn’t opened her eyes yet, but she knew it was him. Her heart felt light. He still cared.

“Please be ok, Melinda. Please…” 

He sounded so vulnerable and her heart ached. 

She still hadn’t opened her eyes and she took long, steady breaths, pretending to be asleep.

“You need to take care of yourself. I need you to be ok at all times, you hear me?”

His voice was so affectionate she almost let herself believe that he did more than care.

His thumb kept stroking her hand and her whole body warmed at the touch.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve let you down. I tried to keep you safe, to be objective enough to keep you safe, but that just lead me to letting you down even more because I can’t be objective because I kissed the LMD and I love-” 

His breath hitched in his throat.

She opened her eyes and sat up. 

“What did you just say?”

He stared at her, absolutely dumbfounded, horror written all over his face. “I… I…” he tired. “I didn’t know you were awake…”

She wasn’t even really listening. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest. “You kissed fake me?” She stared at him with fire that was raging in her whole damn body at this point. “You kissed her?!

He put up his hands, trying to calm her with a soft voice. “Yes, yes, I know and I’m really sorry but right now you have to calm down, please wait with giving me the shit I so rightly deserve until you’ve gotten back your strength, ok?”

She gave him another angry look. That piece of… 

She took some breaths, trying to gather herself. Then she looked at him again. “You kissed her.”

His head was hanging, his face looked flushed and he wouldn’t look at her. “Yes.” He cleared his throat and began to talk faster. “I didn’t know she wasn’t you and there was a moment and she leaned in and I just thought that maybe that meant that you felt something … So… I just…” He looked at her again, truly ashamed. “I’m so sorry.”

She furrowed her brows. “You didn’t know she wasn’t me?”

He looked confused. “What? Of course I didn’t know, why would I have kissed her if I didn’t think it was y-” He stopped himself. “You think I’d kiss her knowing it wasn’t you? Why would I do that?” 

“Because” she shrugged, “you wanted to know what it’d feel like but didn’t want to take any of the consequences.” She locked eyes with him. “A kiss would change everything.”

“Yes.” He breathed, a long breath, almost a sigh. “I wanted it to change everything.”

She felt tears welling up. She was exhausted and heartbroken and tired, just so damn tired.

He looked at her, horrified, again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Why did you choose to do it when she was me, then? Is it because I’m so closed off and too robotic or-”

He shook his head, violently, and grabbed her hand. “No. You hear me? No.”

He squeezed her hand. “I did it because she dared to, because she could act like there wouldn’t be any consequences. And-” He looked sad again. “I needed that push.”

“Because you wouldn’t want to deal with the consequences?”

“No.” he answered, softly and quietly. “Because I’ve never been sure if you would.”

She looked down, not being able to meet his eyes. “I don’t know.” Her heart was breaking and damn, damn, damn her fake copy for being so careless, for so blindly going after what she wanted, for forcing her, actual her, to have this conversation right now. She felt a tear travel against her cheek and she didn’t even care. “I don’t know if I would.”

He nodded. “I understand, I’m not expecting anything and-”

“I love you.” 

He stared at her. His eyes were big, his jaw hanging to the floor and she would laugh if the situation wasn’t so… not laughable.

“I love you,” she continued, quickly so she wouldn’t chicken out halfway through, “but you died.” She bit her lip, hard, to keep the tears in and took another breath, “you died once and then you almost died again and I can’t…” Her heart and her eyes were turning into liquid now. “I can’t let myself fully love you and then lose you, I just can’t lose you, I can’t…”

“Hey, hey, hey…” He stood up from the chair he’d been sitting in and sat down at the bed beside her. He put one hand on her arm and used the other to delicately wipe away her tears with his fingers. “I’m scared too. I’m terrified. That’s what happens when you love someone.”

His hand stopped on her cheek and she smiled through the tears. “You love me?”

He let the hand on her arm travel up to the nape of her neck. “Of course I do.”

She let herself rest into his touch and closed her eyes. They sat like that, silently, together, for a long time.

She grabbed him and pulled him to her, their foreheads touching. She leaned closer. He absentmindedly licked his lips and she smiled inside. When their lips touched, it was everything and nothing liked she’d imagined all at once. 

He opened up, inviting her in, and she took the bait. She breathed into him and her hands were on his neck, his hands were in her hair, his lips were soft and firm at the same time and she let herself want. She finally let herself want.

When they pulled away, he was slightly panting. “That was just…” He looked at her. “Wow.” She wanted to laugh. “Better than her?” He nodded, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah. Definitely.”

He looked at her, becoming serious. “Scared of the consequences?”

She nodded.

He nodded back. “Yeah, me too.”

Then they kissed again.

anonymous asked:

'not a man' everyone knows that ur only a man if ur as swift as a coursing river, having all the force of a great typhoon, with all the strength of a raging fire, while also being mysterious as the dark side of the moon?? duh

Anon: ur not a man without a MAGNUM DONG you piece of shit.

WHY YOU SHOULDN’T GET THE SIGNS MAD

Aries: They were literally named after the God of War. U ever get one mad? It’s like HULK SMASH they have no chill and they never get tired they only stop when they get bored 

Taurus: Ok they’re pretty chill and lazy eating their grass and shit, but bulls get pretty angry especially during bull-fights and when u taunt them. They will gore u and have nO SHAME

Gemini: Seemingly harmless since everything about them is fake, but they can turn EVERYONE against u even ur own mother they’re so good w people don’t mess w them

Cancer: When they get mad they retreat into their own little shell bUT THEY COME BACK A MILLION TIMES STRONGER they like get blinded by anger and lose any sense of reason

Leo: They have all the force of a great typhoon and the strength of a raging fire + they don’t do that forgive and forget bullshit they will always be looking for an opportunity to kill ur sorry ass

Virgo: Not inherently violent, but chillingly intelligent. Expect them 2 blackmail u bc they know everything about u and every trace u have left on the internet and they will let the whole world know about it #noregrets

Libra: It’s annoying. They will talk shit about u FOREVER and then ignore u, then pretend to be ur friend, then be really cold and it’s just annoying, you wish they’d kill u already but they won’t

Scorpio: Scariest assholes out there. Remember Raven from Teen Titans and how she has dark forces and basically the entire underworld on their side? That’s all u need to know

Sagittarius: They know exactly what to say to hurt u. Words don’t hurt? Really?? Get a Sagittarius mad, and they’ll bring up something u forgot about and it’ll make u cry urself to sleep for 3 days

Capricorn: They’ll get really quiet and WILL NEVER LET IT GO AND WILL mENTION it in front of other people and people will listen to them bc they’re so calm and rational 

Aquarius: Either you’ll disappear or they will. Neither scenario will leave a trace.

Pisces: Easily influenced by other’s opinions, so if someone else hates you, they probably will and they’re SO GOOOD at playing the victim, you’ll basically have no friends ever again

Please, Just Back The Fuck Off

Teen Wolf Imagine:#55 Prompt:#13

Word Count:744

Warnings:Upset and annoyed reader

A/n: I don’t have much to say. I’m not even sure any of you read this.

Originally posted by stilinski-jpeg

Masterlist

Coming Soon

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Mulan

You cannot tell me that Mulan is not about trans people. I mean, not only is she singing “I may never pass for a perfect bride or a perfect daughter” and she says “though I’ve tried.” Not only the song Reflection, but it’s about a female-bodied person trying to act like a cis-male. The song “I’ll Make A Man Out of You” describes what it really means to be a man. “You must be swift as the coursing river, with all the strength of a great typhoon, with all the of a raging fire, mysterious as the dark side of the moon!” Nothing in there says anything about having a penis. Granted, it’s a children’s movie, but it doesn’t say “The muscles of Hercules” or “The hair of Gaston” or some shit. It has nothing to do with the body. Sure, it says “strength” but that can mean mental strength, too. Okay, rant over. 

-Grayson

Having a penis doesn’t make you a man.
Having a vagina doesn’t make you a woman.
To be a man, you must be as swift as the coursing river, with all the force of a great typhoon, with all the strength of a raging fire, mysterious as the dark side of the moon

Trans!Bitty headcannon totally inspired by this post, where Bitty is out to the team and at one point he’s feeling dysphoric and accidentally lets the team know he’s feeling this way. He didn’t mean to worry them but he mentioned it while he was filming for his vlog. Unfortunately he made the mistake of filming his vlog in the Haus kitchen. Ransom and Holster were about to sneak in and see if they can steal something when they hear him say that even though he knows he’s a man sometimes it’s hard to feel that way when he doesn’t have a penis or needs to bind his breasts. Ransom and Holster immediately burst in, all plans of baked goods stealing forgotten, to assure Bitty that he is totally a man and it doesn’t matter what he’s got because to be a man he “must be swift as a coursing river, with all the force of a great typhoon, with all the strength of a raging fire, mysterious as the dark side of the moon” and he has all of that and more. Bitty is still startled by their abrupt entrance when he was expecting to be left alone in the kitchen and is trying to stutter out a response. This prompts the Holster to start singing the actual song, belting it out at the top of his lungs with Ransom joining in a little behind him. And like all Disney songs, once people in the Haus notice it’s being sung they can’t help but go to the kitchen and join in. That’s how Bitty has a video of most of the Samwell Men’s Hockey team (including Jack!) belting out Make A Man Out Of You off-key and at the top of their lungs while cramming themselves into the kitchen. Bitty laughs. And cries. And while he doesn’t post the video, he does keep the footage as a pick me up for when he’s missing his friends or feeling especially dysphoric and doesn’t know what to do with himself or how to make it better.

  • [Question - What is the most attractive quality to you in a romantic relationship?]
  • Kuroko: They must be gentle.
  • Aomine: Big bust *thumbs up*
  • Midorima: Someone older than me. Preferably a Scorpio.
  • Murasakibara: Ehh… Someone tall.
  • Akashi: Elegancy.
  • Kise: They must be… swift as a coursing river, with all the force of a great typhoon. With all the strength of a raging fire… mysterious as the dark side of the moon!
  • Kuroko: So they have to be a man?
  • Kise:
  • Kuroko:
  • Kise:
  • Kuroko:
  • GOM:

anonymous asked:

another vote for a bible story, which one are you thinking of?

I am thinking of - and have indeed prepared - the story of Samson and Delilah! 

There is a small disclaimer regarding the treatment of religious texts in modern society under the Read More, as well as some very brief discussions of comparative literature. One disclaimer here, though - comments about the religious authenticity or lack thereof of this text are not welcome. This story has been retold as a work of narrative fiction, as have all other retellings I’ve done. All stories are on the same level playing field in that respect, and I would appreciate it if people could refrain from insinuating otherwise. I don’t encourage Bible bashing in any sense. No belief system is above or below any other.

If you don’t want to read the poorly retold tale of a man with a perpetual bad hair day and an aversion to marriage counselling, press J on your keyboard to skip!

God Hates Hairdressers

So, this story starts with a dude named Manoah and his barren wife. His wife doesn’t have a name, because the Bible isn’t really interested in her role in the narrative beyond her empty womb, but I’m not down with that, so let’s call her Jill. Anyway, one day, Jill is just sort of chilling by herself while Manoah is doing important manly shit that doesn’t involve wombs, when suddenly this angel just appears right next to her and the angel is like “yo Jill, you know how you’re barren?” and Jill is like “yeah, that’s a thing that I am” and the angel is like “and you know how you totally can’t ever have kids?” and Jill sighs and says “is there a point to this or are you just making a statement about women’s role within the society of Zorah” and the angel chuckles and says “dude, next time you’re bemoaning women’s rights in this shitty little valley, make sure you use the past tense, because BAM, you’re totally going to get all sprogged up soon with the raddest baby ever and everything is going to be absolutely fucking awesome” and Jill is like “wow, how rad on a scale of one to ten?” and the angel is all “well, you know how the Philistines are arseholes?” and Jill says “yes but why are we having this conversation entirely through the medium of rhetorical questions?” and the angel is like “getting real for a sec, your kid is going to be really instrumental in the freeing of the Israelites from the Philistines, and God thinks that your womb is the only womb for the job.”

Jill, being something of an amateur historian, is like “but didn’t God basically deliver the Israelites into the hands of the Philistines to teach them a lesson about worshipping him properly?” and the angel waves his hand airily and says “let bygones be bygones, Jill, and listen closely to my advice, because this pregnancy isn’t something you can navigate by the weighty tomes of My Baby Body and Me” and Jill is like “you mean I can’t just eat ice cream for nine months and make my husband give me foot massages?” and the angel is like “no, you can totally do that, but you also have to abstain completely from drinking any wine” and Jill is like “pretty sure that advice is in every baby textbook ever” and the angel says “also your son must never drink wine or cut his hair, because them’s the Nazirite rules” and Jill is like “OK, I totally hear you, but also I think I should probably tell my husband” and the angel is like “good luck explaining why your son’s hairstyle is going to be dictated by God forever” and fucks off.

When Jill tells Manoah about the day’s events, his first reaction is basically “holy shit, have you been partaking of the fruits of the vine because seriously, you sound like my uncle at a wedding” and Jill is like “fucking Hell, fine, I’ll get the angel to come back and tell you himself” and Manoah nods sagely and says “it’s for the best, Jill, I need to hear this news from the lips of a man or it means nothing to me as a Biblical male figure” and Jill gives him the middle finger and stomps off to mope in a field.

Eventually, the angel returns and Jill is like “for fuck’s sake, I specifically asked that you went to speak to my husband. Men” and she goes to find Manoah, and when Manoah gets there, he asks the angel what the frickety frack paddlewhack is going on. The angel just sort of looks at Manoah and says “dude, didn’t your wife tell you?” and Manoah looks really sheepish and he’s like “she said some shit about having a baby and not drinking wine and also that maybe he would ultimately save the Israelites from being enslaved by the Philistines, but you know. Women” and the angel just nods sagely and says “women” and then he high fives Manoah and Jill just sort of wonders why she’s even here at all, apart from her womb. Then Manoah burns some meat and the angel disappears and everything is absolutely stellar.

So, Jill gives birth to her radical baby and she names him Samson, and like a good Biblical mother, she does all the shit that she’s supposed to do. She doesn’t let him drink wine, even when he’s like “but mum, all my friends are drinking in the park and I don’t want to be that teetotal loser at a party who can’t get any girls”, and she doesn’t cut his hair even when he’s like “but mum, all my friends have got really cool hairstyles with, like, shaved bits, and I look like Tarzan on a gap year” and everything is fine. Samson drinks his milk and grows up to be big and strong.

Except he’s not just big and strong; he’s essentially like Dwayne Johnson if Dwayne Johnson were allowed to grow wild and untamed, unrestrained by the casting conventions of Hollywood. Dude can lift mountains. No, literally. He is physically capable of lifting mountains. He really is that strong. He makes the cast of The Expendables look like Jesse Eisenberg. I cannot exaggerate this dude’s strength.

Many years pass, and honestly, I don’t even have time to go into all the cool shit that Samson does in these years. Those are rad stories for another time. But basically, all you need to know is that after a few years spent absolutely bloody sticking it to the proverbial Philistine Man through a series of incredibly macho events that would make the RSPCA quiver with rage, such as tearing a lion apart with his bare hands and eating honey from its corpse, killing 1,000 men with the jawbone of a donkey, and setting 300 foxes on fire and destroying all the crops in sight, Samson ends up right at the top of the Philistines’ carefully composed list of ‘People We Don’t Like Very Much and Would Subsequently Quite Like to Dispatch in a Series of Creative Ways, Possibly Involving Maiming and / or Mutilation’. It’s a long list.

As well as being at the top of this list, Samson also finds himself in the valley of Sorek, which just so happens to be the hometown of an absolutely smokin’ lil piece named Delilah. Delilah, who happens to be the only woman gifted with a name in this entire story, is basically the Biblical Marilyn Monroe. She’s all curvaceous of bod and lustrous of hair, and her dimples do this really alluring thing when she smiles at that joke you just told, the one about your job that you always worried wasn’t actually that funny but Delilah seems to find hilarious – and now she’s playing footsie with you under the table and looking up at you from under her lashes and telling you that you should be a comedian, and the next thing you know, you’re two condoms short of a packet and your wallet’s missing, but you don’t even mind because you learnt things about your body that you never knew.

Anyway, Samson meets Delilah at Sorek, and immediately he’s just like “right, well, I know I have a history of making terrible choices with women, and my last wife betrayed me to the Philistines and then married my best friend and tried to convince me to marry her sister instead, but I have a feeling that this woman is The One. I think it’s the heaving bosom that’s done that, honestly” and Delilah just sort of flutters her eyelashes and says “you’re so big and so strong, Samson, let us be wed immediately, and I promise you that I definitely won’t ever make good on that really obvious foreshadowing, 100% honest intentions up in here” and Samson just looks at the plush curve of her cupid’s bow and says “I absolutely accept, let’s marry the fuck out of each other” and they do.

After a few weeks of wedded bliss, Delilah is out doing her weekly shoe shop when she’s approached by a gang of Philistines. She’s all “well, I definitely did not see this coming, this is a complete surprise, I had no idea that Samson was even affiliated with the Philistines in any way, shape or form” and the leader of the Philistines just stares into the molten brown of her eyes and says “we need you to do us a favour” and he does a stellar job of not making any innuendos out of it whatsoever. Delilah puts down her bag of Louboutins and she’s all “boys, I am not that kind of lady, and if you think I’m going to do anything against my husband, then you will be sorely disappointed” but she totally winks theatrically as she says it and the leader of the Philistines is like “well, hypothetically, we definitely wouldn’t be willing to give you a vast amount of money to find out the secret of your husband’s strength” and Delilah is like “how vast a quantity of money would you hypothetically be unwilling to give?” and he’s like “I don’t know, maybe eleven hundred pieces of silver?” and Delilah is like “holy shit, that’s like four pairs of Louboutins, consider me well and truly not at all in but also totally in on your entirely hypothetical plan” and she walks off and one of the Philistines just says “what a woman” and another one hushes him.

When Delilah gets home, she goes up to Samson and she starts playing with one of the seven locks of hair on his head, and she’s like “honey bear, you know how you love me more than anything?” and Samson is like “I do know that actually, what do you want?” and she’s all “well, if you really loved me, you’d tell me what makes you so big and strong and handsome and broad in the shoulder” and Samson is like “oh, well, I can’t really say, but let me just tell you that it would sure be a party pooper if someone were to tie me up with seven green willow branches that have never been dried. Boy, that would really rain on my parade” and Delilah grins seductively and says “I hope no-one ever does that to you, sugar muffin” and then they go to bed.

When Samson wakes up, he finds that he’s been tied to the bed with seven green willow branches, and he’s like “what the fuck, Delilah” and Delilah is like “the Philistines are totally gonna cream your ass now” and Samson just flexes his impressive chest and the branches snap off, like some kind of weird botanic strip tease, and he’s all “they’re going to have to do better than that if they want any dairy related action to occur on these gluteal muscles” and he goes to work.

Later that evening, Delilah sidles up to him and she’s wearing her fanciest lingerie, the set with little bows on the thigh high stockings, and she’s like “baby, if you loved me at all, you’d tell me the truth about your strength” and Samson sighs and he’s all “are we still on this?” and Delilah winks and says “you could be on me if you just told me how to make you weak and puny, purely for trust reasons” and Samson rolls his eyes and says “OK, I lied to you before. The truth is that if someone were to tie me up with new ropes that have never been used, I’d instantly become pastier than Michael Cera” and Delilah cocks her head and says “baby, we should try something new in the bedroom tonight” and then she gets these brand new ropes and ties him up. She’s all “I tricked you good and proper there, the Philistines are gonna have your nuts for breakfast”, but Samson just unties the ropes and he’s like “I don’t think I like bondage much, and you should tell the Philistines that a breakfast with too much protein will unsettle their stomachs” and he goes to sleep.

The next morning, Delilah is like “can you seriously just fucking tell me, because I’m your wife and I need to know your weakness so that I can keep you safe” and Samson is like “but you’ve literally tried everything that you thought would make me lose my strength” and she’s all “yeah, to see if I could trust you, and clearly I can’t because your pecs are still rippling like the goddamn ocean” and Samson is like “well, if I can trust you, then can you promise not to tie my seven locks of hair together while I sleep?” and Delilah is like “why, would that make you puny?” and Samson says “it certainly wouldn’t help with my rigorous fitness regime” and Delilah is all “cross my heart, I won’t tie your locks together”, and then she waits for him to fall asleep and she weaves his hair together, because neither of them have learnt that their marriage is built on nothing but raw sexual magnetism and they should probably see a couples’ counsellor.

When Samson wakes up, he’s just like “goddamn it, Delilah” and he lets his hair down and flexes his guns, and Delilah starts crying and says “I can’t believe you lied to me again, how can we move past this marital issue if you don’t trust me?” and Samson just throws his hands in the air and says “how can I trust you when you keep doing shit like this?” and Delilah is like “I bet you trusted your last wife” and Samson is all “yeah, and she betrayed me to the Philistines” and Delilah blinks a few times and makes a tear fall artfully down her cheekbone, and she says “I would never betray you to the Philistines, baby, you have to remember that I’m not your ex-wife” and Samson takes her sobbing frame in his powerful arms and murmurs “I know, baby” into the crook of her neck, and as she cries, he just whispers “I trust you not to cut my hair, and no jokes this time, this is me taking a leap of faith to save our marriage” and Delilah hiccoughs tearfully and says “for real this time?” and Samson nods and says “for really real” and Delilah manages to make herself smile sadly and says “thank you for trusting me, honey, I promise I won’t cut your hair off while you sleep tonight” and Samson is like “Awesome, I am so glad that we have turned a new chapter in our marriage and I’m not going to wake up bald.”

The next morning, Samson wakes up bald, and his room is full of Philistines and Delilah is standing at the end of the bed with her arms folded across her chest, grinning sardonically, and before he can shout something about the marital bonds of trust having been broken, he’s been captured by the Philistines, having broken his Nazirite oath and lost God’s help, and he’s just like “I think we should try a trial separation, honey” and then this Philistine comes up to him and he’s like “how would you like to try a trial separation from your eyes?” and Samson is like “I’ve considered it thoroughly and no, that is not something that I would be interested in trying” and the Philistine looks back at his boss for instructions on what to do next and his boss just sighs and he’s like “obviously he’s not going to agree, just give him the ocular divorce anyway” and that is a thing that happens, unfortunately. Old Testament is bloody as fuck.

A few years pass, during which Samson is forced to labour for the Philistines, and basically he really regrets his haircut, even though he’s always thought that his jaw would look more chiselled with short hair, which is a hypothesis he is now unable to test due to being blind. One day, a Philistine comes to collect him. He leads him to the temple, which is absolutely jammed full of people, and Samson is like “where are we, because I have an important millstone that needs turning regularly” and the Philistine is like “we’re at the temple where we’re going to offer you to our god, Dagon, because he’s a rad dude and he lets us cut our hair without sapping our strength like a bad marriage” and Samson is like “by ‘offer’, do you mean you’re going to wrap me up with a neat little bow or that you’re going to slaughter me horribly” and the Philistine is like “probably a combination of both, if I’m honest” and Samson is like “brilliant, that all sounds really great and I’d love to participate to the best of my ability, but in order to do that, I think I’ll need a little rest. Would you mind terribly if I just had a little lean against the nearest pillar?” and the Philistine sighs and he’s like “just a small lean, mind” and Samson agrees and he’s like “the tiniest of leans” and the Philistine leads him over to the nearest structural pillar.

While he’s leaning against the pillar, Samson mutters “OK, God, it’s been years and my hair is totally doing its Jason Momoa thing again, so maybe you could cut me some slack on my accidentally breaking the Nazirite oath and give me my strength back?” and God doesn’t say anything, because God is the strong and silent type, but Samson immediately feels his strength flow back into his body, and he turns his face up to the Heavens, towards the sky he could have seen had he not been robbed of sight, and he cries out “let me die with the Philistines!” and he pushes against the pillars with all his might, and with a mighty crash the entire temple falls down and kills everyone inside, including Samson, and Jill’s one-trick womb comes good in the end.

My other retellings can be found here; my dedicated mythology blog is here; and my Mythology Mondays Facebook page is here. The latter two links also allow you to follow my progress in writing a whole actual book. Thrilling.

Disclaimer: there is no proof that God looks any less kindly upon hairdressers whatsoever. Unless you’re a hairdresser who breaks the Nazirite oath, in which case, avoid Philistines.

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anonymous asked:

even catching isak singing to disney or some song like the time when there in the kitchen and isak says about the hashtag thing because even liked he gabrielle song. even doesn't let isak live the moment down 😂 cue even teasing isak

This one was so cuteeee. I chose the song I did because it is my all time favorite disney song and I truly think that Isak would know it by heart. (And I wrote all the damn lyrics by memory because, fuck yeah!)

I hope this is similar to what you wanted!

—————–

Isak tries not to let the sweet feeling of victory consume his very being.

See the thing is; Isak never wakes up before Even. It just doesn’t happen. It doesn’t matter if Even’s manic or chill or whatever, he just naturally has a damn internal alarm clock that wakes his ass up while Isak is still in snoozeland.

Except, that is, for today. Cue Isak’s victory dance.

It’s not usually a thing he gets haughty about or bothered by at all. How could anyone get upset about your boyfriend waking you up with breakfast or kisses (or a blow job like yesterday morning, thank you very much Even).

But sometimes Isak has visions of cooking Even breakfast. He has visions of waking up to Even’s delighted grin- happy that for once, Isak was the romantic one. Isak was the one who made some grand gesture of his undying devotion. Or whatever. Isak’s not fucking sappy, alright?

So with Even snoring softly next to him as Isak had woken up, he scrambled out of the bed, adrenaline and recipes already running through his mind. (Did they have oranges for orange juice? Did they have eggs- of course they had eggs, dumbass. But what about bacon? And peppers- Even loves peppers in omelets. Ah fuck, did they have the cheese Even likes?)

The answer, thank god, was yes to all of the above and Isak was content that the morning was running smoothly.

On the kitchen counter, just to the left of the stove, Noora’s IPod sat unassumingly hooked into Eskild’s speaker system. Isak peeked down the darkened hallways, considering the chances he might piss off one or both of them if he borrowed it.

Eh screw it.

He flicked the Ipod on and put it on shuffle, figuring Noora was cool, she’d have some decent music, right?

The first song was alright- Black Eyed Peas, I’ve Got a Feeling. Not his first choice, but he could jam.

Isak cracked the eggs, cursing when a piece of shell fell into the mixture. But it’s alright, easily fixable mistake, so he pressed on. He whisked the eggs, throwing in some salt, chopping up peppers to throw in for Even.

Then the song changed.

Let’s get down to business
To defeat… The Huns

“Fuck me,” Isak murmured, “Fucking Disney.”

But also.

Mulan was a fucking kickass movie. Isak considered the song for a second, letting memories of his mom sitting Isak down on the couch in the mornings before breakfast and putting it on for him, laughing and clapping as he pretended to fight Huns alongside Mulan.

Isak poured the egg mixture into the pan, realizing almost right after that he was mouthing along to the words.

Isak glanced behind him. The hall was silent, no lights were on…. no one to see him if he decided to…

“You’re the saddest bunch I ever met,” Isak sung along, adding a bit more salt and moving his hips along to the song, “And you haven’t got a clue, Mister I’ll make a mannnn out of you.”

Okay so spoiler- he really loved Mulan. Even throughout his teenage years, Mulan was probably the one movie he didn’t feel too terribly guilty watching. It just- it wasn’t as gay as liking, like, Beauty and The Beast or Snow White or something. She was literally a bad ass! She wielded a sword and had a pet dragon! At least she didn’t wait around in a tower waiting for true love- what was so gay about liking Mulan?

(Isak flinched, knowing he had used those exact words to defend his choice in movie to Jonas on his thirteenth birthday. Jonas, of course, had barely even blinked, settling himself down to watch it with him.)

Isak grinned at the memory and turned the volume up a bit, feeling too happy to care how dumb he felt punching the air in time with how he remembered Shang doing it in the middle of the song’s movie scene.

“I’m never gonna catch my breath,“ Isak slurred, probably butchering the fast English lyrics but fuck it, he was having a good time, “Say goodbye to those who knew meee.”

Isak flipped the omelet, adding cheese in between his increasingly passionate solos (which fuck yeah, he still remembered every damn word to the song.)

“We must be swift as a coursing river- With all the force of a great typhoon,” Isak couldn’t help but chuckle as he stumbled on the pronunciations of some of the words. “With all the strength of a raging fire, Mysterious as the dark side of the mooooooooon!”

Isak grinned and spun around, riding the last note out.

Even was right there. He was right fucking there.

Isak yelped, nearly knocking over the hot pan of food with the force of his stumble.

“Easy there,” Even said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the kitchen’s entry way, “Please don’t stop. I’m enjoying the show.”

“Oh my god,” Isak whispered, righting the pan and turning off the heat. To Even, “How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough to want to discuss your love of Mulan,” Even chuckled, the crinkles by his eyes so pronounced, the size of his smile almost blinding, “Now how are you going to nag me about liking Gabrielle, when you’re a closet Disney lover.”

“Oh, baby,” Isak said before he could help himself, “I’m not a closet anything anymore.”

Even snorted, walking further into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around Isak’s waist, “Mmhmm. So do you have any more songs up your sleeve? Maybe some Pocahontas? Or a Whole New World? I’d love to hear you sing some Little Mermaid.”

Isak rolled his eyes, “Shut up, I don’t know all of those- just Mulan is a decent movie.”

“Oh Isak, dishonor on you,” Even said, pulling away, “Mulan is so much better than a decent movie.”

Isak felt his grin widen, “Can you sing along to all of the songs?”

“What- you think Gabrielle and Nas are my only party tricks?”

“I think that if you were any more of a nerd, I might need to buy you a calculator- or sign you up for Math Club or something.”

“Says the one who was literally dancing in his socks and underwear to Make A Man Out of You.”

Isak had no response to that, so he tilted his chin up and looked at Even from under his lashes. Even’s lips quirked at the familiar gesture, gracefully fulfilling Isak’s request for a kiss.

“Shang and Mulan were to best Disney couple,” Isak said, when they parted moments later.

“Yeah, but, Shang was kind of a dumbass, wasn’t he?” Even couldn’t help but lean in to brush their noses together, “All of the other couples had these grand sweeping romantic gestures. ‘You were my dream’ and whatever.”

Isak laughed, “He told Mulan she fought well- that was his version of an ‘I love you’, I think. That’s about as romantic as it gets.”

Even considered, before pulling out of Isak’s arms. “Did you make food?”

Isak cursed and turned around, pulling out a plate and sliding Even’s omelet onto it. It was a little browner than he would like from being left in the pan, but it would do.

He presented the plate to Even with a shy grin.

Even accepted the plate and looked down at the food. The most peculiar look came over his face and Isak was half afraid that he had made it wrong or something. But Even grabbed a fork and took a bite, grinning at Isak the entire time.

Isak shifted, tilting his head, “Why are you staring at me?”

Even shook his head, smile not dimming even the slightest bit. “Hey Isak? You fight good.”

Nico training with Will.

*Nico blocks one of Will’s attacks and Will drops his sword*

Nico: For the last time, Will. To be a good fighter you need to be… *dramatic gesture* as swift as a coursing river.

Will: Oh gods.

Nico: *Dramatic gesture* With all the force of a great Typhoon.

Will: Nico, no.

Nico: *Dramatic gesture* With all the strength of a raging fire.

Will: Nico, seriously. If you finish this then I’m not having sex with you tonight.

Nico: *Dramatic gesture* As mysterious as the dark side of the Moon.

Will: I knew introducing you to Disney would be a mistake.

Nico: We’re still having sex, right?

Will:

Will:

Will:

Will: Yeah, we’re still having sex.

atlantisking  asked:

💑 What are my muse’s requirements for a potential partner?

SEX+ROMANCE HEADCANONS!  |  ACCEPTING  |  @atlantisking

         a. )   be a man
         b. )   be swift as a coursing river
         c. )   have all the force of a great typhoon
         d. )   have all the strength of a raging fire
         e. )   be as mysterious as the dark side of the moon

anonymous asked:

Are you as swift as a coursing river? Do you have the force of a great typhoon? All the strength of a raging fire? Are you as mysterious as the dark side of the moon?

Ask my Muse ANYTHING. There are ZERO LIMITS!

“I am swift– as a river?  Depends on the river. So probably, at least for a short distance.   Force, with a canon blaster, I am–  and strength… with a canon blaster, again, yes.  Without… eh… not really THAT strong.  Just– y’knowstronger than you’d expect.  As for bein’ mysterious? I’m pretty mysterious… but I don’t know how to measure moon-mystery in comparison to myself so I’ll just say I’m not sure about that.”

anonymous asked:

I wish you would write a fic where tiny de-aged Loki, but with his adult mind still intact somehow ends up falling asleep on Thor &/or Odin's chest

Yeeeeah, couldn’t resist this one. My six-month-old twins were inspiration for this. Written too fast. No editing. Pure crack.

***

Thor strides with purpose into the throne room, his long sought after prisoner in tow, captured at last. “Father.” He is breathless from both excitement and worry. The words tumble out in a rush. “Something has happened.”

And oh, how Loki wants to murder the great idiot. To phrase his dilemma so ineffectually—as if something has simply gone amiss with the weather or the baking of a cake—is unforgivable. He seethes, anxious little hands working at the fabric of Thor’s cape, wishing he possessed the power to rip it to shreds.

There is a pause and then comes the All-Father’s voice, strangely soft for all the memories of his rage. “… Loki?”

Loki might have clenched his teeth were he in possession of any, but all he is capable of is the strength to push at his brother’s ridiculously oversized chest and rear around to glare at his adoptive father. He rather hopes the heat of it lights the old man on fire. They will all suffer for this grave injustice.

Odin has descended from the throne. The look on his face is startled, but there is also something else. Something Loki does not want to name because it should not be trusted. It lights up Odin’s face, but he does not smile. Whatever he feels goes far deeper than that. “How? It cannot be.” He reaches out, intending to take his youngest son into his arms.

Loki pulls back to evade him. “I had much the same reaction myself, I assure you,” he bites out, so filled with ire, he can keep his silence no more. “And yet here we are. Go on, old man. Have a good look at my shame and be done with it. Yes, my physical body appears to have regressed in age a number of years, but do not assume for a moment that my mind is not my own. My wits are as sharp as ever. So I advise you, Odin All-Father, to address me with the respect due my true stature, else pay dearly for the oversight.”

This speech might have left more of an impression were it not delivered from the lips of a six-month-old infant. But as it stands, all Odin and Thor hear is a very long stream of furious baby babble. Loki is tiny, wrapped up in his brother’s cape, and beneath it, clothed only in the green tunic he normally wears under his armor. His little head is crowned with the first promise of shiny, black curls, and his tongue has lost the ability to enunciate words. He has only discovered and made use of the sounds “oooo” and “ughh” but has yet to master a single consonant.

“It happened on Midgard, in the heat of battle,” Thor explains, bouncing his baby brother in his arms to soothe his fussing. “He was in the midst of a working, and something went wrong with his seiðr.”

“How dare you imply I did this to myself, you insipid waste of air,” Loki says. Or means to, at least. In reality, it comes out in the form of a ten second raspberry aimed at Thor’s face. Loki then begins to flap his arms and legs in a desperate attempt to escape the palace grounds.

“Why is he so agitated?” Thor asks.

“Most likely, he is in need of food and rest,” Odin says. “Those needs should be seen to first, before any attempt to solve this mystery. Now may I have my son, please?”

Loki rubs furiously at his face with his fists and kicks both legs together as he’s passed from Thor to Odin.

“Yes, I think a nap is in order,” Odin says, cradling the boy to his chest.

Loki tries to bite him, but all he can manage is to coat the All-Father’s tunic in slobber—at which point Loki becomes distracted by the sight of his own foot and forgets about everything else. He has no idea why, but he wants that foot. With his mouth watering in anticipation, he reaches out to claim it, and oh, the frustration he feels when he tries to bring it to his lips! It simply won’t reach, no matter how much he pulls.

“This is intolerable!” he declares.

Left with no other option, he pops three fingers into his mouth and proceeds to suck on them noisily. After a moment, his eyes drift downward, and he thinks, Oh, yes. Yes, that is good.

He settles down then—forgetting why he was angry, forgetting everything except the slow, gentle rub of a warm hand on his back—and falls asleep in his papa’s arms.