hey i finished a thing

4

Ghostbusters! (x)

Another WIP, wanna do a whole series of these (for the 13 base companions… although 13 i s a bad number cause they won’t line up proper in a photoset aaah) 

I just need to think of quotes/taglines for MacCready and Curie? Havin’ trouble thinkin of somethin good

foreverblueraven  asked:

Prompt: Lucy drops by the DEO regularly and is SHOOK at how quickly Maggie becomes a part of life there. Where Lucy ends up in their dynamic is your call

So you said you wanted more feels. You got ‘em. Fair warning, Lucy feels ahead. 

Lucy Lane Loves Leather and Pain

    Major Lucy Lane (never Lucille, shut the fuck up, Danvers) was the younger sister to a legend, an internationally renowned journalist, married to a goddamn superhero (and Lucy is very much bitter that she had to figure that one out on her own, as if she was never told because she spent so long with her father, no, she had to figure out that Clark and Kal were the same person). Major Lucy Lane lost her boyfriend to not one, but two goddamn Supers.

    Major Lucy Lane spent a good portion of her life being jealous as hell. What does it take, she’d wonder, to actually be seen for myself.

    It didn’t help that those damn supers were so nice. She tried to hate Kara. Kara Danvers was a giant ball of sunshine who stole her boyfriend without trying to at all, and then to find out she was Supergirl on top of everything, well that was just swell. And she had always gotten on better with Clark than with Lois, even before the Great Family Blow Up.

    Lucy wanted to be seen as something other than the lesser member of her family. After everything went down with Myriad and almost sending Danvers Sr. and not-Hank Henshaw to CADMUS, she figured she and the elder Danvers had a lot in common and could relate. After they got over the whole arrested-you-and-had-you-carted-off-to-an-experimental-black-site-that-later-turned-out-to-be-the-home-to-domestic-terrorism thing. Alex said she was over it. Except for when she wanted to win, in which case, Alex was kind enough to hold it over Lucy’s head.

    Alex held a lot of things over Lucy’s head, and often literally, because Alex Danvers is an asshole and thought short jokes were funny.

    It took time though, for Lucy to really make it past the spiky Agent Danvers persona. Kara was easy, Kara accepted everyone with open arms until you literally proved you had no hope for redemption, and Winn wasn’t far behind. But Alex was cautious, Alex didn’t trust people, and it didn’t matter how many drinks they shared while complaining about super siblings and falling short, Alex held very much of herself at bay.

    DADT was very much a thing during her career in the military. Her father was a general. Lucy’s attraction to both genders was something acknowledged after nights of heavy drinking or contemplative staring into the mirror, it was never something she actively pursued. That would have won her no favors with her father, the only family that hadn’t died or picked up and left, and he was all she had. When she broke from him, she suddenly found herself with friends and a new city, a new confidence she didn’t know what to do with.

    Alex Danvers had always pinged her radar as less than straight, although her interactions with Maxwell Lord were nothing but pure entertainment for Lucy. The disgust on her face when Alex mentioned he once tried to feed her was priceless. Alex Danvers held everyone at bay, but over time, after her teams moved to the city base and they were relegated to once or twice a month bar meets, Lucy found herself wanting more than just friendship from the taller agent. She was beautiful, brilliant, perpetually single, and she understood.

    So Lucy invited her out for drinks.

    Alex invited Vasquez and Kara out for a girls’ night.

    Lucy tried a fancy dinner, but an alien rampaging downtown ruined that one.

    She tried cooking dinner, but that turned into another girls’ night.

    Lucy wasn’t sure if this was Alex Danvers’ attempt to let her down gently, but it was really beginning to piss her off. Danvers wasn’t like Kara, she clearly couldn’t be wooed with food. And there were always drinks involved, so a nice whiskey wasn’t going to get her point across.

    Lucy was beginning to think she needed to flat out ask Alex if she wanted to make out when the cop started showing up. She got the joy of hearing Alex bitch about the cop who tried to steal her crime scene at the airport. Lucy got to hear about the alien bar from everyone who got to spend time there, but she could never seem to make it.

    And the cop. She got to hear about the cop so often.

    Lucy is a jealous person.

    Lucy freely admits that.

    Alex Danvers doesn’t make friends.

    Alex Danvers is finally friends with Lucy, even if the oblivious asshole never opens those goddamn whiskey deep eyes and notices the bisexual waving a pride flag in her goddamn face and asking her out every twenty minutes.

    One could maybe see why Lucy was less than thrilled to hear about Alex having a new friend. A pretty friend. A smart friend. A brave friend.

    Hello, Danvers, all that and a much better uniform is sitting right in front of your goddamn face. Would like to maybe sit on your goddamn face.

    A cop friend who apparently was Alex’s gay awakening and excuse me what the absolute fuck I have been throwing myself at you for the last year.

    For someone so damn smart, Alex Danvers was a goddamn dumbass.

    And Pam was supposed to be on Lucy’s side, okay? Legal and HR are supposed to be tight, they are not supposed to give clearance to a crush’s crush okay they are supposed to make the other woman’s life impossible that what HR and Legal do.

    Lucy always seems to miss meeting the cop when she visits. Which is odd, because no one ever shuts up about her. Winn goes on about how she saved his ass and she’s almost as awesome as his new bff Lena. James, her ex boyfriend who knows her a little too well and just smirks. Sweet, oblivious to her own bisexuality, ray of sunshine Kara Danvers is, of course, gushing about the woman who makes her sister so happy and she’s so helpful even if she eats weird healthy food. Even J’onn likes her, and he’s Alex’s Space Dad, no one is good enough for his favorite child and he’s said as much to Lucy’s face as nicely as possible.

    It’s a Friday night when Lucy finally manages to ditch Major Lane early enough to catch beers in town with her friends. Well, she could have ditched the Major, but Lucy looks damn good in her uniform and she’s fairly confident the cop will notice, even if Agent Oblivious doesn’t.

    She does.

    The cop is hot. Like, wandering the desert for forty years hot.

    But that’s not important.

    No.

    What’s important is that Agent Alex Danvers sees Major Lucy Lane enter an alien bar in full uniform and looks her up and down, eyes wide, like she’s never seen Lucy before. Like she’s pairing the uniform with the sweaty body she spars with on Tuesday mornings, the one she pins down with a laugh only to get flipped on her own back because Lucy takes nothing lying down, not even her massive crush on the most oblivious woman on the planet (Kara, of course, is the most oblivious alien).

    “Lookin’ good, Major.”

    Lucy smiles, wide and full of teeth, “I look even better out of uniform and you know it, Agent.”

    Alex isn’t the only one looking Lucy up and down. Not that Lucy’s complaining, because it’s nice to see she can still make a first impression. But the girlfriend (because that’s what she is) is less pleased at the laughing bear hug that Alex gives Lucy. Full body contact that literally lifts Lucy off her feet, smelling of leather and lavender and ozone from that damnable space gun of hers. Lucy takes her chance to wrap her arms around Alex’s neck and let herself fall into it. She likes feeling like she was missed.

    Alex finally sets her down and spins her to face the hot cop, hands strong and warm over the dress blues. “Maggie, this is Major Lucy Lane, the desert’s biggest pain in the ass. Luce, this is Detective Maggie Sawyer, NCPD Science Division.”

    The woman’s dark eyes stare her down. But she’s unsure about something. She’s trying to project a confidence she doesn’t feel, and Lucy might have missed it if she didn’t see the same thing in Alex every time Kara or J’onn was in trouble. Jesus, Lane, is that your type? Leather and bravado?

    Not that Lucy blames herself at all.

    They make it look hot.

    Sawyer reaches out a hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

    Lucy shakes it. She’s jealous, not a bitch. “You too. Alex talks about you so much it’s like I know you already.”

    Alex dips around Lucy to reach for her drink and throw it back.

    Maggie smiles, slow and wide, and Lucy knows she’s fucked when she realizes the devil wears leather and sparkling fucking eyes are you for real. “Is that right, Danvers?”

    Alex chokes a little, wiping clumsily at her mouth. “Pfft.”

    Three beers are dropped off by a bartender that the three women barely notice. Lucy plays with the neck of her bottle before taking a swig. It’s just the three of them, and Alex and Maggie are leaning into each other, not even holding hands, and Lucy kind of wants to deck the detective.

    “So, Sawyer, I have to know…”

    Maggie and Alex both pin her down with curious stares. It’s just the three of them, and it’s about to get real awkward, because fuck it, Lucy wants to know. Because she’s Lucy, because she’s petty, because she’s jealous, she waits until they both go to take a sip. Lucy smirks. Go big or go home, Lane.

  “How did you get her attention? Because I’ve been asking her out for a year.”

  Maggie takes a slow, slow swallow, her eyes darting between Alex and Lucy, considering, a small smirk beginning to pull at the edges of her mouth.

  But Alex?

  Alex spits her beer all over an alien looking for a fight.

  He found one.

  And Lucy finds herself incredibly impressed turned on with the way these women got creative with pool sticks.

anonymous asked:

give me that sweet sweet john silver headcanons i want to know how far do you think his terribleness goes because like i know he was so cute in the beginning he was so cute that for a while i forgot that the first thing he did was literally murder a man

oh boy anon i’m not sure you’re gonna like my answer. 

because i don’t have one.

i have several.

you see, i’m in what may be a small camp of people who LOVED the non-reveal of silver’s backstory. because i’ve written a ton of fics by this point, and each silver i’ve given a different backstory. sometimes i’m more explicit about it, sometimes i’ll allude with one line or two, but i have so many and i love them all. my headcanons for john silver are many, and they are all true, and also, none of them are true. john silver contains multitudes. 

this is some of who john silver is:

– Johnny was eleven when he decided he didn’t like the water, a fact which upset the mistresses of the Totttenham Home for Orphan Children something awful. They’d whip him whenever they found him hiding in a closet, avoiding his weekly bath, but he preferred the slice of a switch on his skin over running water over his face. The orphanage ran right beside the River Lea, a wide ugly stream. Sometimes they’d hang criminals over it from the willow trees, let them sway there until their bloated bodies dropped from the branches like fruit and were swept away by the current. He’d lay awake at night, hearing the brush of bodies, the rustle of their clothes against the leaves, and the babbling of the water over rocks, and then suddenly, he’d hear – the splash.

– Anthony is in Seminary School when he falls in love with Marcus, another student with thoughtful gray eyes and freckles all over his hands and nose. It’s Hell, until he learns Marcus loves him too, or at least wants him the same way, and then, oh, then it is Heaven. Father Grey walks in on them together, and they insist they were just scraping. They can’t tell if Father Grey believes them, but any touch, any act not in the service of the Lord must be punished. Father Grey sticks Anthony under the floorboards, below the pulpit’s crucifix. He is still small for his age, but the wood touches the tip of his nose. He feels spiders and beetles crawling in his clothes, but he can’t see them because it is so, so dark under the floor. It isn’t long before he’s screaming, but that’s not what Father Grey wants to hear. It’s only when he begins to pray does Father Grey let him out.

– Philip was closing down his practice for the night when a man stumbled through the doors, bleeding from the neck. Philip’s expertise was in childbirth and women’s health, but he helped the man as best he could. The man survived the night, but died the next morning, when the Royal Guards found him in Philip’s parlor and shot him in the head. No one listened when Philip said he was just doing his job, and it didn’t make him a traitor to the crown because he saved the life of a traitor to the crown. They still slapped the shackles on and sent him south. Hell, he knew, was truly in the Caribbean. No where else could be this hot, no where else could his hands – hands that had brought life into this world – be beaten by rock, by sun, but work. But Philip was a good man, and felt no qualms with escaping before his sentence was up, after being so wrongfully imprisoned. And when he killed the guard standing between him and his freedom, he felt so guilty – for a little bit. He felt the guilt slip from him as swiftly as he slipped into the night. God didn’t care if he saved anyone’s life or took it, so why should he?

– Jonathan’s father is an accountant in Philadelphia. His mother loves to knit. He is unremarkable in school, and has no friends. He graduates college with no prospects for the future, no goals, no dreams. No anything. One day he goes down to the docks. He likes to skip rocks. A man mistakes him for someone else and offers him a job on a merchant ship. He leaves without saying goodbye to his parents, and never thinks about them again.

– The Prince stood beside his father, the King, once a year since he was old enough to stand, and watched while his father executed prisoners. At first, they were clean deaths – hangings or beheadings with little ceremony. But the King’s mind was not what it used to be. It was going, and all that was left behind was madness, and cruelty, and loathing for all his subjects. The Prince is twenty when the courtyard was awashed with blood, the torsos of his country’s enemies fitting onto spikes throughout the Square, and that’s when the Prince realizes he needs to go. He tells his mother, the Queen, that he wants to take a pilgrimage for a year and see the world before taking over for his father. Like Jesus, he says, he wants to walk among them and understand them, so he might lead them. The Queen is tight-lipped, but agreeing, as long as he promises not to walk among them here, in his own land. His face is too well-known. He has the same eyes as a Mad King. The Prince says he’s always wanted to try sailing on a ship.

– Gregor’s brother Theophilus is much more handsome than Gregor, even though they are twins. All the girls in Naxos only ever want to go with him, even though Theo is a brute and a drunk. But it just the two of them left of their family, and Gregor is helpless without his brother. Theo is the smart one, the gifted one, the strong one. Theo gets him jobs because he can’t find his own. Theo is Loved by God. Theo reminds Gregor of this when he hurts him, and then he reminds Gregor again when he touches him afterwards, too soft to ever be soothing. Gregor likes to look out on the sea when he gets to be alone. The Aegean is a different kind of blue from his eyes, from Theo’s eyes, and it calms him to see how dark it can be. He often thinks one day about jumping in and seeing how far he could go until he got tired, and could finally rest. He’s there, one evening, when Theo arrives, drunk and angry. Gregor lost another job, a job he couldn’t do because Gregor had trouble walking that day. Because Theo. His brother had stormed up the empty beach in a rage, the sky pink, the water dark, and Gregor had bashed his brother’s head in with a stone, and pushed his body out into the sea.

– José enlisted in the Army once Charles II was dead and his wife had died in childbirth, along with his newborn daughter, and he had no desire to live anymore. Or so he thought. But as soon as he’d been handed a musket, taught to clean it, taught to load it, taught to aim it, taught to fire it — and he thought that maybe just because he didn’t want to live anymore didn’t mean he wanted to fucking die either. His superior officers told him never aim for the legs because a man survive that, could still hold and aim and fire their own weapon. You want to stop them, not slow them down. José deserted his infantry two months into his service, with nothing but the remains of his lousy pay, his shitty uniform, his musket, and no clear idea where he was. Somewhere in Gibraltar. He left in the night and he was spotted by another soldier, a friend of his. But his friend ran to alert an officer, and without thinking too hard about it, José aimed his gun, and he did not aim for the legs.

– Silver is a ship’s cook, and a bad one, but the men he serves are pirates, and so he tries his best to keep them fed. Silver is a cook on a pirate ship, when he finally finds a God worth loving.

youtube

Oh, hey, so I finally finished that thing from a month ago.

Audio by: @Crashboombanger

Art by Me

Riverdance! - A Densi Ficlet

A/N: So after last night’s episode (8x19), a Densi dancing ficlet would be entirely expected, right? Well, this is Densi…and there is dancing…but this is probably not what you all were expecting, lol. In truth, I’ve had this idea rolling around in my head for a few days, but last night’s episode (and an unexpected stretch of free writing time) pushed me to finally get it done. So, I hope you all enjoy about 750 words of Densi future fluff related to dance…seriously, bring your toothbrush, this is super-fluffy!!


“This is all your fault, you know,” Kensi muttered sleepily as she let her head drop onto Deeks’ shoulder. She relaxed into him, secure in the knowledge that they were in a fairly secluded spot in the back of the auditorium. No one would notice if they cuddled a little – probably – and she wasn’t really all that concerned about being seen anyway.

He chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “Don’t know how you figure that, darlin’. You’re the one with, eh, ninety percent of the dancing talent in this relationship.”

Hmph,” Kensi huffed, sliding her arms around his waist and pulling him closer so that she could lean more of her weight against him. “You know exactly what you did and how it led to us being here – at this ridiculously early hour on a Saturday morning.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific, Kensalina,” Deeks murmured, amusement still evident in his tone. “Maybe a cappuccino will help loosen your tongue, huh? And a donut? I think I saw a café cart out in the lobby. Hm?”

She craned her head back so she could look up and squint at him. He met her narrowed eyes with a smirk and a too-innocent-to-really-be-innocent raise of his eyebrows. “Really?! You’ve gone straight to flat out bribery? That just proves you do know that this is all your fault. If you hadn’t done that silly dance for her – over and over, I might add – since she was three, she wouldn’t have started to imitate you, or want to learn how to do more of it. I rest my case.”

“Aw, c’mon Kens. It was first-rate father-daughter bonding time! And you can’t deny you’ve kept photos of us riverdancing it up on your phone for more than four years. So, I know you don’t really mind Lizzie’s dance obsession.”

He tilted his head and grinned widely at her. She rolled her eyes, but laughed. “Yeah, yeah, okay. You got me.” She stepped up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “But that cappuccino would go a long way to making me feel better right now. It’s only eight and Lizzie’s troupe doesn’t go on until nine thirty.”

“Alright,” he drawled, disentangling himself from her and moving to step towards the lobby before turning back. “Wait a minute, then why are we here so early?”

Kensi put her hands on her hips and gave him a look. “They’ve got to warm up and get into their costumes, and you know it takes forever to get Lizzie’s wig pinned on just right.”

He’d started nodding and backing his way to the door by the time she’d gotten to the word costumes – narrowly missing a collision with a gaggle of girls who were slightly older than Lizzie and decked out in brightly-colored dancing dresses and curly wigs. “Got it, got it. One piping hot cappuccino coming up!”

“I’m going to go check on Lizzie – I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes. Don’t forget the donut!” she called after him, grinning as he sketched a mock salute back at her. She turned back towards the front of the auditorium after he disappeared through the lobby doors and surveyed the barely-controlled chaos otherwise known as dozens of parents and small children prepping for a dance recital.

She headed for the door to the backstage area, moving quickly – after all, she was a woman on a mission. She needed to locate the correct troupe of seven-year-old Irish step dancers, wrestle her daughter into her costume and wig, and make it back out to the lobby before her cappuccino got cold.

Kensi smiled to herself as she rounded a corner in one of the labyrinthine hallways behind the stage and spotted Lizzie and her friends practicing their dance for the recital, giggling and laughing with each other as their little legs moved at a furious pace through the complicated steps. She stopped and simply watched them for a moment, a happy warmth rushing through her at the sight.

She might jokingly complain to Deeks about getting up at agonizingly early hours on a Saturday, but watching her daughter – who was so obviously happy and in her element – and knowing that her husband would be waiting for her out in the auditorium with coffee and a kiss, Kensi knew one thing to be undeniably true.

She wouldn’t have it any other way.

24 hour write-a-thon final update

there’s still like, an hour and fifteen minutes left in the day, but i am absolutely 100% wiped. so i’m gonna do this and then go listen to taz for a little bit 

this was like…really hard. i went through phases where i wrote a ton in a short period of time and others where it took me half an hour to write 500 words. but in the end, i met my goal and i’m really proud of how much i accomplished today, even if i have a hell of a lot of editing ahead of me

i now have a writing commission completed, as well as 9/21 chapters of prince of cats written and ready to be edited! a shoutout to the lovely @chasejackson for deciding to host this event <3 and thank you to everyone who supported me today!


word count goal: 10,000 words
word count at beginning:

  • be there in five: 1,516
  • prince of cats chapter 5: 3,046

word count at end:

  • be there in five: 4,474
  • proc ch5: 3,642
  • proc ch6: 1,900
  • proc ch7: 1,934
  • proc ch8: 1,538
  • proc ch9: 1,520

total word count: 10,446/10,000

demonlucy-chan  asked:

Hello~! I just wanted to say that I love your Jasico stories and was wondering if you do requests? If not its fine, sorry to bother you :3 I've seen quite a lot of Victorianish fanfictions where Jason is a nobleman and Nico is not and I was wondering if you could do a Jasico AU where Nico is from a very rich and noble family but lives without any servants. Hazel worried about his ability to look after himself hires a very kind butler from a poor background to look after him. <3

This turned out a bit too long for Tumblr (wouldn’t want to frustrate the mobile users) so I posted the finished thing on AO3. However, here’s a snippet:

“A butler?” Nico repeated. “Hazel, I told you. I’m fine on my own.”

Hazel gave him a disapproving look. “You’re not fine. Look at this place! It’s a mess!”

“I wasn’t expecting company,” Nico said. “If I had known you were coming…”

“You would have cleaned up yourself, I know,” Hazel said, shaking her head. “Nico, a house like this usually holds a family of four and at least that number of servants. You’re not supposed to live here alone.”

“Father insisted I come here, remember?” Nico said. “I would have prefered something smaller.”

“I’m pretty sure father meant for you to bring some servants with you, not to just pack your bag and move in,” Hazel said dryly. “Nico, this isn’t healthy. If I wasn’t married I’d move in with you to clean up this mess.”

“How is Frank doing?” Nico asked, trying to change the subject, but Hazel glared at him.

“He’s fine, which you would know if you came by a little more often,” she said. “You need company, and help with the house. Which is why I hired a butler.”

“Wait, you already hired one?” Nico asked. “Hazel…”

“No, I’m not backing down, Nico. You need someone to look after you,” she said. “And I can’t be in two places at once.”