i am pretty sure this was intentional

anonymous asked:

I don't see what the other anon means, your art doesnt look like ikimarus at all? Its way cleaner and more professional? the face looks totally different and its more energetic. Idk, I think your art is way better

Hey, I really appreciate the thought my sweetheart, but we don’t need to be critical, really! I love Sunny’s art and she works at an amazing and constant pace, personally I think she’s far more skilled than I am.

The anon had good intentions too, it’s just that comparing an artist with another one usually doesn’t work so well, because I’m pretty sure we’re all doing our thing and rather be our own person haha.

An outtake from The Retribution of Mara Dyer, from Noah’s POV.

This is an outtake from a very early draft of Retribution, one that originally included Mara and Noah’s POVs throughout. In that earlier incarnation, it would have taken place right before the subway scene. If you’ve read the books…you know the one. If you’ve read the ARC of The Becoming of Noah Shaw, you’ll recognise a name. Otherwise, know that this is unedited, not canon, and I’m just posting it for your reading pleasure. I hope you enjoy it.


In the lounge-club hybrid, the smoke hangs thick in the air. Mara weaves sinuously through the crowd, the lights illuminating her body in flashes; the curves and lines of her in black and metal and punishingly high-heeled boots.
Her arm is hooked in Jamie’s and Stella flanks her as I walk behind, looking for Leo. The place is packed, but amidst the grinding and thrusting, we find a table. I sit on a low sofa, legs sprawled, but Mara doesn’t join me.
“What time is it?” she asks.
“We have a half-hour before he’s supposed to be here.”
“This is the random internet person?” Stella looks sceptical. I don’t blame her.
“Jamie found him,” I say absently. It’s nearly impossible to care about anything with Mara in that dress.
She catches the look on my face and interprets it correctly, judging by the spike in her heartbeat. “I want to dance.”
I would join her, but someone needs to wait for this person I now loathe to show up. And besides, “I prefer to watch,” I say.
Jamie smirks. ”I bet you do.” He holds out his hand to Mara, adding an old-timey bow. “I was king of the bar mitzvah circuit. I’ll dance with you.”
Mara takes his hand and Stella sits beside me. A waitress-hostess-person comes round in a white bandage dress, leaving literally nothing to the imagination, and gives me a long look.
“Can I get you anything?“ she asks, not breaking eye contact, and ignoring Stella completely.
“Glenlivet, I say, looking to Stella. “You?”
She hesitates, looking a bit lost. "Um, I’ll have wine I guess?”
The waitress raises an eyebrow. “What kind?”
“Riesling,” I say for her. “It’s sweet,” I say to Stella. “You might like it.” Somebody must.
The waitress lingers for another moment but when I don’t return her gaze, leaves.
“Thanks,” Stella says, and looks out at the writhing floor. "So when is this guy supposed to show up?”
“He said midnight.”
She looks at her phone. “He’s late.”
He is, but it’s hard to care. The waitress comes back with our drinks and I hand her a hundred. Stella sips hers but mine is untouched.
I can’t stop looking at Mara, and I’m not the only one. She and Jamie move in complete synchronicity, as if they know each other’s thoughts.
“Wow,” Stella says. “Jamie wasn’t kidding.”
“He wasn’t.”
“Do you dance?” she asks me.
“I can.”
"So why aren’t you up there?”
I look back to Mara again, her eyes closed, inhabiting the music. “Because it’s true, what I said before,” I tell Stella. “I prefer to watch.”
She pauses for a moment. Then, ”Do you ever get jealous?”
“Why would I?”
“I don’t know,” Stella says, as Jamie’s arm hooks Mara’s waist, pulls their bodies together. “They're…pretty close.”
“There’s nothing to be jealous of,” I say. “They’re friends.”
“You sure about that?”
This time, I do turn to look at Stella. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
She shakes her head, glances down into her glass, but her pulse beats faster—I can hear it beneath the bass line.
“If there was something to be jealous of, I suppose I would be. But Mara doesn’t want to be with anyone else.”
Stella puts down her glass, and I hear her heart stutter. She swallows hard. “We’re not like them, you know.” When I meet her eyes they’re wide, intent. “You see that, right?”
I do see it. I do know. It doesn’t matter.
I say none of this out loud.
“You don’t need to wait with me,” I tell Stella. “Go dance.”
“You sure?”
“I am.”
She looks a bit reluctant to leave, at first, but I encourage her on and she soon falls into perfect rhythm with everyone else.
Most heads in the club are turned to watch Jamie, and now Stella–they’re classically beautiful, pleasingly pretty. But it’s as if their eyes almost skip over Mara; you can’t stare at the sun too long without getting hurt.
I can, though, and do. There’s a wild, blissful expression on her face—she looks otherworldly. Untouchable. And indeed, as close as she and Jamie are, there’s always at least a hair’s breadth of space between them.
I lean back, legs stretched out in front of me, feeling the ghost of Mara’s lips on my neck, from before. Glitter flutters from the ceiling, sticking to her skin. She shines.
Hearing her heartbeat, her breath, her sound in the midst of the thrumming music, if it can be called that, calls to mind an echo of a memory of the first time I heard her voice. It was in that club with Kent in Miami and I was dying of boredom and misery until her voice brought me to life. Woke me up. I could scarcely believe that she was real, but she was always more real than anything, than anyone. She makes me real. Without her, I’m not convinced I’d exist.
She opens her eyes for a second and flashes me a smile, my smile, the one she reserves only for me. I want to taste it. Feel it against my chest. See that smile from above me.
Immediately I feel the pressure of too many eyes on her bare skin and I stand and move toward her, cutting a line of stillness through the bodies. When I reach her I tilt my head down until my lips are at her ear. Contact.
“Come,” I say, my voice low.
She doesn’t ask where. She doesn’t ask why. She doesn’t need to—she knows what I want. And I can hear in her heart, in her pulse, in her breath, in her music, that she wants it too.

everyone is gay: the musical // magnus & even, t+

aka: magnus has an awakening and even is unfortunate enough to be near it.
(for ceecee aka @westiris, thank u for supporting my impulsiveness love u)

“I gotta ask you something.”

Magnus blurts it out over lunch one day when it’s just him and Even sitting at the table. Even doesn’t even have to look up from his phone to know that Magnus is staring intently at him, hands in his lap as he waits for Even to tell him, “go ahead, lay it on me, I’m a human search engine.”

“What’s up, Magnus,” he all but sighs instead, tossing his phone onto the table.

Magnus doesn’t even hesitate before beginning with “So you’re bisexual,” and Even’s patience is already compromised.

Keep reading

My Light - A Sirius Black Imagine

A/N: Woohoo, it’s time for another episode of ‘I am insecure and need to be comforted by fictional characters!” Please be careful reading if you are triggered by self-hatred, etc. 

Taking a shaky breath, (Y/N) gathered a handful of Floo powder from the bowl sitting beside the fireplace. “Number 12 Grimmauld Place,” she stated clearly as she thrust the powder into the grime. 

Green smoke enveloped her as she whizzed past dozens of fireplace exits. After a moment of dizzying travel, the network spit her out in a pitch black hearth, dust spilling into the open space in front of her. 

“(Y/N)!” came the chipper voice of her boyfriend! “You’re here!” he cheered as he scooped the startled girl into his arms and spun her around. 

“Hi,”she laughed as he finally set her back on ground. “It’s good to see you too!”

“Good? Try bloody brilliant!” Sirius cupped her cheeks, his thumb stroking her slight blush. “I missed you,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over hers. 

“I missed you too,” she smiled back, her lips finally connecting to his. 

“Absolutely nauseating,” observed the younger Black brother from the doorway. 

“Shove off, Reg,” Sirius growled without fully removing his lips from hers. 

(Y/N) pushed Sirius back as she flashed Regulus an apologetic smile, “Hey, Regulus. Good to see you.”

Regulus’ lips quirked into as close to a smile as he ever came, “(Y/N). Always a pleasure.” 

Try as he might to be against everything Sirius stood for, he had a hard time disliking (Y/N). She was good for Sirius. Anyone could see it, including Regulus. Well, anyone except Orion and Walburga Black. 

When Bellatrix had ‘accidentally’ let it slip that Sirius Black was fraternizing with a non-approved suitor, Orion and Walburga were less than pleased. Once they realized it was getting serious, they banned the budding relationship. Not that Sirius cared. He found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with (Y/N). And then he found it harder and harder to be away from her. Even on winter holiday. 

So, when the heads of the house were invited to spend the weekend with family for a typical “Black” family soiree, Sirius took advantage of the opportunity. He immediately sent an owl to (Y/N) asking her to spend a couple days at the Black residence. (Y/N), though nervous, agreed after much internal debate. 

“Come on,” Sirius took her smaller hand in his, “let’s go put your things up in my room.”

“Your timing was perfect,” Sirius rambled as he led her up the stairs. “My parents left about a half-hour before you arrived.”

Reaching the top floor, Sirius led her down the dark hall and to a door labelled ‘Sirius.’ Opening the door, he dramatically bowed, allowing her to enter first. 

Taking a few small steps into the large room, (Y/N) took in her new surroundings. A large bed adorned by an elaborately carved headboard and a crimson bed spread sat in the middle of the room. There was a tall window draped in long velvet curtains which which were positioned to let in a subtle rays of light. A candle chandelier hung from the ceiling. A bookcase littered with books from every era and genre sat in the corner. 

Though much of the room was clearly designed by his mother, Sirius had clearly gone to great lengths to personalize his chamber and distance himself from the Black aesthetic. Gryffindor banners covered the walls and he had pasted muggle photographs of motorbikes and girls in bikinis on every open surface. Though she tried not to let her eyes linger, it was difficult to stop staring at the flawless models. 

She feigned a smile, “I’m sure your parents are thrilled with your decorative decisions.”

Sirius snorted, “Yeah, my mother is especially fond of the permanent sticking charms.”

(Y/N)’s tingling laugh danced through the air. Though she would spend agonizing hours, weeks, months even, worrying about those photos, she couldn’t deny her boyfriend’s humor and persistent efforts to irritate his parents. 

***

The evening was spent playing round after round of exploding snap, a drawn out game of chess, and Sirius’ old vinyl records. (Y/N) was enjoying every minute of it. Well, every minute that she wasn’t annoyingly obsessing over those muggle girls in their teensy bikinis beckoning at Sirius with their flirtatious glances. 

“Do you mind if I take a quick shower?” (Y/N) asked as Sirius lounged on the couch. 

“Not at all,” Sirius replied, “I’ll come up as well.”

Once they reached Sirius chamber, (Y/N) grabbed her bag and headed toward the bathroom tucked just down the hall from Sirius’ room. 

Twisting the handle, (Y/N) watched as water flowed downward from the shower head. As she waited for the water to warm, she began to undress. 

Free from the confines of her disguise, she glared at her reflection in the mirror. All she could see was a blob. A disaster of a human. 

Hideous. 

How could anyone love such a creature. 

The models on Sirius’ walls flashed through (Y/N)’s head. They laughed and mocked. They questioned why a boy as handsome and smart as Sirius would ever want a girl like her. 

Forcing herself away from the mirror, she quickly showered and changed into her pajamas. A baggy t-shirt and an old pair of athletic shorts. 

Making her way back to Sirius was a challenge. She debated leaving right then. How easy it would be to make a run for the fireplace without looking back. She could escape to the safety of her own home. A place of solitude and familiarity. A place where no one could see her deepest insecurities. 

But she couldn’t do that to Sirius. He had seemed so happy to see her when she’d arrived. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she upset him. So, with a deep breath, she reentered Sirius’ room. 

Sirius smiled up at her from his bed where he was flipping through an old quidditch magazine. He too had changed clothes. He wore a pair of grey sweatpants and no shirt. 

(Y/N)’s heart began beating incredibly fast. 

“Ready for bed, then?” Sirius asked. 

(Y/N) nodded as she claimed the vacant side of the mattress. 

Sirius lifted his wand, lazily dimming the lights. 

Shifting closer to the center of the bed, Sirius cocked his head at (Y/N), waiting to see how she would respond. 

As discretely as she could, she slid herself away from him so that she lay almost on the edge of the bed. Though she would have loved to doze in Sirius’ strong arms, she suddenly feared his touch. She feared that he would realize how obviously her form differed from the giggling models on the walls. 

“Have I done something to upset you?” Sirius asked after a moment. 

“What?” (Y/N) replied incredulously. “Of course you haven’t.”

“You sure?” Sirius probed. “You’ve been awfully quiet since you got here and now it’s like you’re afraid I’ve got dragon pox.”

“I’m fine, Sirius,” she assured though she seemed to be having trouble meeting his eyes. 

“Come here, then,” Sirius suggested, opening his arms. 

Hesitantly, (Y/N) inched her way toward him, finding comfort in the familiarity of his warmth. 

“Not so bad, it is?” Sirius joked as he held her tight, pressing a quick kiss to her hairline. 

She didn’t respond, only stared straight ahead. 

“Do you want to go home?” Sirius questioned nervously. “Because you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

(Y/N) lifted her head so she could glance up at him, “No, I don’t want to go home. I’m happy being here with you.”

Sirius gave a small smile, “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

She nodded, but her eyes dropped to the duvet cover she was fiddling with. 

“Then, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind, sweetheart?” he encouraged gently. 

Fidgeting slightly, (Y/N) took comfort in the slight squeeze Sirius gave her. “I’m not like them, Sirius,” she stated simply. 

“Not like who?” he frowned. 

“The girls on your wall,” she explained. “I’m not thin. Or glamorous. I don’t look beautiful in a swimsuit. There are lumps and bumps all over my body. And as much as I try, I’ll never be comfortable with the way I am. I mean, boys have never even given me a second look but you - well, you tell me I’m pretty. And you’re sweet to me. It just doesn’t make sense.”

(Y/N) froze, shocked that she had said all of that out loud. 

“I guess I just don’t understand why someone like you would want someone like me,” she finished lamely, quite embarrassed by her outburst. 

Sirius gazed down at her intently as she rambled, his eyes filled with worry. Sure, the magazines wouldn’t identify (Y/N) as an ideal specimen, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t absolutely perfect. Hell, in Sirius’ mind she was too good for him. 

Sirius pushed her up and off of him. 

(Y/N) was pretty sure this was the end. She had ruined the best part of her life by pointing out how much better Sirius could do. 

“Sirius, I - ”

“Shh,” he hushed her gently as he grabbed something from his nightstand. Once he was finished, he repositioned himself on the bed, sitting in front of her, legs crisscrossed. “You want to know what my most prized possession is?” Sirius asked.

(Y/N) shrugged, still too scared to meet his eyes. 

Holding out a picture frame, he nodded at her to take it. She turned it around and was shocked to see the photograph it kept safe. 

It was a candid taken a few months ago. Sirius had his arm slung around (Y/N) whose face was alight with laughter. Sirius watched her with nothing but adoration, a grin plastered to his lips. As the memory came to its end and (Y/N)’s giddiness was reduced to a simple smile, Sirius lovingly placed a kiss to her temple. And then the loop restarted. 

“That’s why i don’t give a damn about the posters on the walls,” Sirius stated quietly. “They don’t make me feel the way you do. My heart doesn’t leap when I see their smiles. But, when you smile, it’s like I’ve never been more alive. And your laugh. Merlin, I could listen to you laugh for the rest of my life. And honestly, I’ve never wanted anything more than that. Just to be with you and maybe be the cause of some of your happiness.”

He took the picture from your hands and carefully placed it back on his nightstand. He took her smaller hands in his and continued, “Love, you are everything that’s good in the world. You may not realize it, but you are my light.”

He squeezed her hands, “Don’t let yourself dim just because you think that I could do better, because trust me, (Y/N), you are the only one I have ever even considered. I love you and I always will. No one can take that away from you, I promise.”

(Y/N)’s mouth gaped like a fish. Nothing had ever been so heartfelt and her own heart felt incredibly full now that Sirius had reassured her. 

Instead of answering, she simply threw her arms around Sirius and buried her face in his chest. 

He rubbed her back and continued to whisper “I love you’s” until she finally resurfaced. 

“Better?” he asked. 

“Better,” she replied as the two returned to their prior cuddly position. “Hey, Sirius?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you too,” she yawned as his chest rumbled with a chuckle. 

ME:A Fic: Five Gifts (1/1)

Guys. I don’t think I have ever been the first to invent an AO3 tag before. I made this post yesterday night. It’s… been a wild ride?

Pairing: Vetra Nyx/Jaal Ama Darav

Also on AO3

#

Five Gifts

Voeld

Some time after the first trip to Voeld—where, yes, maybe she’d complained just a little about the ridiculous cold—Vetra finds a piece of fabric on her workbench. It’s the exact color of her markings, which is strange. Even stranger, the small, delicately-embroidered flowers winding around the edges are gold, and if the fabric is a perfect match for her markings, she can’t help noticing the embroidery’s the same color as her eyes.

It’s a kind of tube. Weird. She has no idea what it’s for. Pretty, though. It’s also the softest, silkiest fabric she’s ever felt, which is saying something because she’s sourced some pretty fancy shit over the years.

There’s no note, no explanation. She asks around, discreetly. She knows how to be discreet. Ryder’s as confused as she is. Drack snorts. Peebee jokes about secret admirers. Figuring it might be some kind of angaran thing, she brings it to Jaal. He’s busy with something, but instead of just turning in his chair or speaking over his shoulder, he stops what he’s working on immediately, rises, and faces her directly, as if she’s now the most important thing he has to think about. She not sure she’s ever going to get used to that. He smiles when he sees the fabric in her hands, but the smile fades when she asks if he knows what it’s for.

“Ah,” he says slowly, as if savoring the single syllable. “You did not get the note?”

Keep reading

Team Aqua is exceedingly amazing/absurd because

• The Admin Matt straight up says he loves his bro Archie and since the player is super strong he also loves you
• Archie doesn’t give 2 shits about losing because he’s too busy keeping an eye on all the grunts and making sure they get enough shut eye and this is a fact because-
• Grunts get to take breaks and time off virtually whenever
• WAILORD TRAINING
• The Admin Shelly seems to be pretty uncertain about what her boss is doing
• Archie doesn’t seem to fully understand that while he has good intentions he’s literally going to kill everyone if his plan works
• I’ve yet to encounter a time where Team Aqua members speak poorly about the strength of their own pokemon
• Honestly I was more concerned about team Galactic and team Plasma than I am with these guys they’re just pirates. Ill informed pirates
• Archie’s defeat animation after a battle is essentially “well this kid beat my ass lol good job champ I’m impressed”
• THEIR VENDING MACHINES ARE CUSTOM MADE AND HAVE THE AQUA LOGO ON THEM
• Since it’s unlikely that a major manufacturer of vending machines would supply custom paint jobs to a criminal gang then that means someone (my money is on Matt) went around and painted the team logo on every machine

In conclusion Team Aqua is ridiculous and I’m having a hard time seeing them as threatening

Silver Lake, Michigan

A few days ago I swept up a huge mound of soft golden sand from my hallway floor. I assumed it was from Saturday’s grand adventure, only to quickly realize, nope, it was probably from my other grand adventure the week before with Jen and Gordon. (oh dear, I need to clean my floors more!)

I have met many fabulous people from this blog of mine, and Jen is one of them. We’ve dined together in Toronto, NYC, Switzerland and last week added Detroit to our list.  She visited me all the way from Berlin(!) and braved the “You’re going where?! Why?” comments from friends and colleagues to come and see, eat and explore her way through Detroit. 

She flew in on Sunday evening, and as Monday was Memorial Day we decided to leave the city early to explore the beautiful west coast of this state. 

For those who didn’t grow up around the Great Lakes ‘hood, a good way to remember the Great Lakes is by the acronym H.O.M.E.S: Huron, Ontario, Michigan, Erie and Superior.  I have big goals to dip my toes in all five lakes this summer (three down, two to go), but I have a feeling Lake Michigan is where I’ll be spending most of my time. 

First things first on Monday morning (well technically second things second, as we first picked up my friend Gordon) we headed to the Detroit Institute of Bagels. It is so delicious, and should you ever find yourself seeking breakfast in this part of the Midwest… GO. 

Bagel in hand, sunglasses on, and music up we then headed west to the great western coast of Michigan.  (I am still using my Google Maps to add places to see/eat/do in Detroit, Michigan and now Ann Arbor; I wish I had created one for every place I’d ever gone!)

The weather was sunny and warm, and I’m pretty sure we all collectively gasped when we first saw the golden dunes of Silver Lake. 

A fun little fact: Michigan has the longest freshwater shoreline in the World, and the second longest total shoreline in the United States next to Alaska, which meant there was plenty of space to find a cozy spot and set up our picnic. 

We had good intentions to go swimming, but LOL, Lake Michigan was COLD. So we stayed nestled within our dip in the dune (out of the wind) and took very non-original reflection selfies. 

Internet, meet Gordon. Gordon, meet the blog.  

Sometime between snapping selfies, #RetirementGoalWalks, and eating one too many slices of cheese, big clouds rolled in. 

So we packed up our goods, and headed back to the car, but… NOT BEFORE HEADING UP THE LIGHTHOUSE!! 

Many folks don’t know this, but the storms in the Great Lakes are vicious. They’re unpredictable, relentless and massive, which means lighthouses have scattered the edges of the lakes since the early 1800s.  (If you’d like to lose a few picturesque seconds of your life, click here to see pretty Great Lake storms!) 

It was $5 to head to the top of the lighthouse, and as it only accommodates up to 14 people, we had to wait a little bit to go up. 

The views of the coast were wonderful! 

And we all walked out the bottom with a sticker to prove we made it up the 150 steps! 

After the lighthouse we headed south to Saugatuck Dunes State Park. I wanted to show Jen and Gordon the incredible sand dunes I had been telling them about.  The photos below don’t do the height from sea-to-photo-spot justice. They’re massive!

After dipping our toes in the water and admiring the sun setting, we then headed back to Detroit, but not before filling my Ford Escape up for the billionth time. 

I’ve never been a car owner before moving to Michigan, but ugh, gas, I hate it. And this car has such poor fuel efficiency. I felt like every 40 miles we needed to fill her up!  Jen took this cute photo as a phew-thank-goodness-we-found-it gas station

We listened to S-Town on the way home, and then as we rounded a bend on the highway, and a “FLINT” sign came into view, Jen somehow convinced Gordon and I to go to Flint.  

Most likely you’ve heard of Flint, Michigan from the news. It’s the city in Michigan where residents have struggled to get clean city in their taps for years. On our way there I read facts about Flint from the NY Times to educate ourselves, and it really is astonishing and sad the issues this city has had with water. 

The city is also one of the most dangerous in America.  We only drove through, and on Memorial Day evening, but the city looked similar to Detroit; under construction with a new wave of life heading into it, and potential that the stigma and rumours are a little outdated now. 

And then finally, around 11pm, we rolled into my parking garage.  Overall a great kick-off to Jen’s grand Detroit/Michigan adventure!

oh my god, tempted by mcu fic ideas for the first time in a million years

nope. nope, not doing it. not even gonna entertain it.

EXCEPT I STARTED ENTERTAINING IT IN THE TAGS BUT THAT GOT WAY TOO LONG FAST, FUCK


but just–darcy though; she’s not gonna be in the next thor movie bc tptb always considered her a vestigial jane attachment anyways. and since natalie’s not coming back (for good reasons of course) then why would they bother bringing back the snarky sidekick?

but like, imagine in-verse something similar-ish happens? it would obviously depend on the in-universe explanation of why jane has up and disappeared and isn’t in this movie, but say jane and darcy for whatever reasons split ways. necessity or misfortune or darcy wants to take another stab at her own career field again. 

only things don’t work out.

it’s a shit economy and she’s been noodling around for like five years AFTER completing her polisci degree, and let’s face it her resume in the interim is–well–eccentric.

she’d expected job hunting not to be EASY, but impossible? well that caught her off guard.

so she’s in some city of relative size, not even new york because she couldn’t afford the rent anymore. she’s barely hearing from jane these days because jane’s on a project and it’s a stroke of luck if jane foster remembers to eat or wash her hair when she’s in High Science Mode, much less respond to email and text. erik started corresponding with her less and less the more he started coping, and that was BEFORE he got some new fancy secret government job.

things have gotten rough and she’s working crap jobs, maybe waitressing maybe retail, just trying to pay bills and figure out how the hell her life came THIS CLOSE to superheroes and alien demigods and action and adventure and things Really Happening, and still ended up HERE of all places.

she reads the headlines on her phone and she watches clips of the action on youtube, and she feels like she somehow fell out of the life she really should have been living, if she’d just found a way to hold on to it, to be invaluable, to seize opportunity, to really MATTER.

and she watched with despair as the sokovia thing and then corresponding accords happened, (and not a little outraged ranting about the absurd political maneuvering of it all and oh my god tony stark what are you DOING) and then it all went a little bit quiet for just a little while.

and a while later she’s busing tables or restocking pastries at a cafe or diner that pays a third of her rent, and clocks two shady as fuck beefy dudes at the table in the corner (backs to the walls eyes on the entrances/exits).

they seem to think they’re low profile with their ballcaps and hoodies and giant sunglasses and newspapers, but darcy lewis got within five feet of that star spangled square jaw one time and even said hi, and he keeps coming in with a short muscley black guy or the mangy looking brunette with the unseasonably long sleeves and gloves and that godawful haircut, and she is Not Stupid. 

but being Not Stupid means knowing steve rogers and friends are considered international fugitives, though she thinks for a moment–a breathless, adrenaline-buzzing moment–that they might somehow be here, in her shitty little diner/cafe in her mediocre little city ON PURPOSE–because she is.

Keep reading

bunny hunt.

Originally posted by btsgot7-jiyong

summary: when jungkook goes extra to make you smile.
pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 1.7k
content: fluff, best friend!jungkook
a/n: when too much sugar in your veins hype your head and makes you write crazy stuff. this one goes out to my precious bean @seoulscapes ♥ happy easter, y’all!


Are you sure?” his firm tone was a known way to push you to speak the truth but you were way too tired to fight your way to prove him wrong so you simply hummed in response. “Keep the door unlocked just in case.

“In case of me wanting to be robbed?” you joked, not being able to control the coughs that came along with that.

In case I need to send someone to check on you but, on a second thought, you better lock it up, brat. If anything, I’ll send the police.” Jungkook declared and you couldn’t help but to sigh, releasing a smile at his absurd, authoritarian display of affection.

“As if someone would drop a party on a saturday night to check on my lazy ass.” the lame attempt to get rid of his concerned remarks seemed to have some success once you heard him taking a deep breath. “Aren’t you supposed to go on court any time by now?”

I still have a couple minutes left.”

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Do Me a Favor (Final Part)

Summary:  AU! Bucky Barnes and you are neighbors and close friends. As a huge favor, Bucky asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a relative’s wedding and you agree.

Word Count: 1,967

Warnings: None.

“Do Me a Favor” Masterlist

A/N: And we have arrived to the end, guys! I hope you like it and thank you for every like, reblog, comment, message. It was so fun writing this for you all. 


Originally posted by fostergasm-ftw


Bucky Barnes was a fairly reasonable man. Fairly. He kept his emotions at bay and often completely ignored them, thinking it better to adopt a cool façade, untouchable and therefore, emotionless. It was much more convenient that way. He didn’t get too involved and he wouldn’t have to deal with feelings later. Feelings were messy, feelings got him in trouble. Feelings… Well, feelings were what made him see red now.

He had never felt such rage in his life. Just pure, uninhibited, unadulterated anger. It made his clenched fists shake, his jaw clench and teeth grit, making that godawful noise he usually despised. It made his chest tighten and shortened the span of his breaths, it made his pupils dilate

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anonymous asked:

Honestly I think we will get 206 chapters from :Re. Mostly because the name of the first chapter of :Re is titled Bone.

Hohoh, that would be cool, and far from impossible given all the content remaining. But I don’t really see why the chapters would be arranged to the number of bones in a human body; that motif was only included in one scene (Ayato’s half-killing) rather than the whole series. 

I have wondered about the first chapter’s title. Perhaps it’s because Sasaki is believed at the start to just be a ‘vessel’ - the flesh and bones of the original Kaneki, but without the mind and soul. 

The ending number for the original series, 143, is code for the number of letters in each word of “I love you”. Ishida’s pretty good at English, so I wonder if that was intentional, given that the series revolves around Kaneki’s quest to be loved (despite being so already). So I wonder what the ending number for :re might signify. My first thought was ‘I am loved’ but that would be…125. Huh. I’m 99% sure this one’s coincidental, but it’s still incredibly fitting.

Survive Or Die - E.D Part 2

Requested: hello! can you please make an imagine of either of the twins but in the world of the walking dead? thank you! ☺️
Warnings: I said the f bomb, like once
Summary: Your all alone in the zombie apocalypse when Ethan saves you from yourself. He takes you back to his compound, but it seems far to good to be true. Is it?
A/N: I lied, the second part is also a story filler cause ya girl loves character development, but STICK WITH ME, IT’LL GET GOOD I PROMISE

Part 1 

“Welcome to my home” he said calmly as the corner of his mouths tugged upwards into a small smile. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. This situation was flawless and I know I have to be vigilant. We started walking throughout the compound as I scanned and noted every single house and feature that may be important. The houses were impeccable, as various residents walked the streets or continued to complete the tasks they had been assigned. I have to admit; the layout of the community was quiet intelligent. There were multiple gardens filled with crops, and planned breeding programs with farm animals which I can only assumed was their main food source. There were multiple water tanks and what looked like some handmade water systems which collected and cleaned the water received by natural rainfalls. The fences were extremely tall and well-built with what looked like multiple layers of metal, wood, and maybe barb-wire, but was it to keep things out or in? Multiple questions rambled through my mind as I thought out every possible way to escape if I needed, but as far as I could think of, the only way out, is the only way in.
“We’re going to go meet our leader, Mark. He’ll determine if you stay or not” Ethan spoke sternly, judging my character as his eyes drifted from my feet to my face. I could tell that he was precautious of my presence, but he was far too kind. It was almost like everyone here hadn’t seen the world outside these walls. They haven’t suffered like I have. They haven’t had to fight to stay alive. 

We stood in front of quiet a large building with two story floors, and overwhelmingly tall wooden doors. Ethan knocked three times in a constant pattern as they shifted, opened by two guards on the other side. He strutted forward which made me assume that he held a position of importance within this community of people, which means if I should befriend anyone here, it should be him. I wasn’t paying much attention to my surroundings, more so I was analysing all the guards, their weapons, and evaluating if I could make it out of here alive if it turned into a warfare situation. My odds were few.
“Well hello. Welcome to our home!” a booming voice spoke loudly from the front of the building. Before me stood quiet a large man with grey hair and kind eyes. He looked strong, and maybe ranged from the ages of 40-50, but it was hard to tell in this lighting.
“Do you speak?” he said peacefully, with a large smile. I nodded my head prudently. 
“You have no reason to fear me” he stated, much like Ethan had before. It sounded rehearsed.
“I don’t mean to be rude sir, but I will be the judge of that” I hiss bitterly, talking a small step backwards.
“I can only assume that you’ve been through many struggles during these desperate times, so I won’t take your hostility as offensive. I understand that you are in pain, but I would like to state that however nice we are, we are no pushovers and will not hesitate to act against violence. Now, you are welcome to stay here and be housed in either a small home or with other people. We have hot water and food, but you will have to work for it.” He instructed, as he paced forward towards me. I stood my ground and tried my hardest to keep an open mind about the whole offering. If this was true, this was heaven and an opportunity I should at least see through till the end. And if it was a trap, I’ll have to find a way to escape anyway, so it’s best to play along.
“I’m sorry. I haven’t met anyone out there that has been as kind and welcoming as you and your people. I would love to accept your offer if you will have me. I can fight, forage, and shoot pretty well if you need another guard. I used to cook before this all happened, but I don’t know how good I am anymore” I admit.
“We can figure out your new job tomorrow, for now, why don’t we find you a home so you can clean up and rest. I’m sure you are excited to sleep in a bed” he chuckled. God, he was right.
“She can stay with me” Ethan spoke up. I had forgotten he was here until he spoke. I turned my head to look at him, trying to gage his intentions, but as far as I could gather he was just being kind. Odd.
“That sounds like a great idea! If it doesn’t work out, we can find a home for you somewhere else. I forgot to ask, what is your name love?” the leader said gently.
“Y/N” I forced a smile.
“Well, it’s lovely to meet you”.

~ ~ ~ ~

“Well, here we are” Ethan said, as he signalled towards his house. It was quiet beautiful to say the least, and definitely well kept. It had a white exterior with a grey-tiled-roof, and various pot plants on the windowsills facing the road. He opened the pale wooden door for me, as I stopped to take my shoes off at the door.
“They’re muddy, I don’t want to make a mess” I say softly, bowing my head as I step inside too take in the sight before me. The house had white walls and beautifully polished wooden floors, with furniture to match the homely theme. I spun around on my heels, as my jaw slacked at the sight.
“Your house is beautiful” I choke out.
“Thank you” he said proudly. He continued into the kitchen as I followed suit. The sight made me jump up and down like a kid at Christmas time. The kitchen had white cabinets with grey, marble tops, with several kitchen appliances scattered perfectly on the surfaces. A wooden-carved dining room table was a couple of feet away, with matching chairs. The whole house was extremely well lit, and past me would have been ecstatic with the ‘photo opportunities’ but now it just made it feel like home.
“I’ll show you around the rest of the house” Ethan muttered as he headed back into the hallway and opened up another door. There was the bathroom which, had a very similar look as the kitchen with a large, deep bathtub underneath the window.
“I can’t remember the last time I had a bath, or a shower for that fact” I giggle. Did I just giggle?
“You have quite a beautiful laugh Y/N” Ethan smiled widely at the sound. I smiled back as I stepped out of the way so Ethan could continue the house tour. He lead me into the main bedroom which I could only assumed was his, which was extremely clean and well kept, and then the guest bedroom which Ethan told me was now mine. It was plain, but beautiful all the same. A few art decorations hung on the wall, with a double bed in the middle and various cupboards situated around the room.
“I’ll have one of the ladies bring you in some clothes, in the mean time you can wear some of mine” he said sternly, his cold exterior returning. I muttered my thanks and stood there awkwardly.
“Why don’t you have a bath and I’ll leave some clothes and towels outside the door for you?” he said softly. A part of me jumped for joy. I know it sounds silly, a girl getting excited over a bath? But when you haven’t had hot water touch your skin in months, you start to crave the oddly simple things.
“That would be lovely” I said slowly as I walked towards the bathroom and shut the door behind me

~ ~ ~ ~

“Y/N, we have to leave now!” my mother shouted from the car as I quickly packed everything I could and shoved it into a bag.
“Why?” I shouted back as I grabbed a couple of random clothes and filled my backpack whilst I sprinted out the door and jumped into the car.
“I’ll explain on the way. Where’s your brother?” she panicked. I jumped out of the car and raced into my brother’s room as he cried.
“Jason, why are you crying. It’s going to be okay, I’ll help you pack” I said calmly, knowing I had to be strong for him. I threw his bags over my shoulders and grabbed him by the arm too dragged him out of the house as quickly as I could without hurting him. I made sure he was safe and buckled up before I did my own seatbelt. Mum launched the car down the street, speeding past various families doing the same, throwing there things in the boot of the car and leaving.
“Mum, what’s going on?”.
“We have to go pick your father up from work. When we get there I’ll explain” she huffed. I looked out the window trying to understand my best of what was happening by observation, but all I could see was the world being torn apart. There were some blood splatters on the street and a few random blood curdling screams. I turned to look at my younger brother as the colour faded from his face. I grabbed my phone and shoved my headphones into his ear, turning the music up loud so he couldn’t hear and couldn’t see what was going on.
“Mum, what the fuck is happening”
“You know that television show I told you to stop watching before bed?”
“The walking dead?” I quarry.
“Yeah well, that”.

“Everything okay in there?” Ethan’s voice boomed from outside the bathroom door. I hadn’t realised I was having a flashback until my forehead was covered in sweat and my body was trembling.
“Yeah, everything’s fine” I shook. I heard Ethan’s footsteps move down the hall as I slid out of the bathtub and grabbed the towel and clothes he had left and got changed.  I quickly tried to dry my hair as much as possible, but it was a mess as half of it was mattered and knotted. I didn’t have time to brush my hair out there. I used to have beautiful hair. It used to be long and healthy, and I would curl it whenever I went out to a party or on a date. Now? It was long, dull and destroyed.
“Hey, can I ask a favour?” I said quietly as I walked into Ethan’s room as he was preparing some of his clothes for me.
“Yeah sure?” he said warily.
“Can you cut my hair?”

Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Sly
Cunning
Manipulative

You play games
Taunting me
Drawing me in
Seducing with your words
Like candy, hiding razor blades,
Waiting to cut deep
But hiding your true intent
The poison inside
Waiting to find purchase,
A home in my veins

You tell me things I want to hear
Soothe the ache
But it’s only temporary
An illusion
You have no pure intent
You only wish to harm
Stalking
Hunting
I am your prey
You twist and tug
Poke and prod
Paint pretty pictures for my mind
Little lies
You string me along
Leading me to my death

“You are so wonderful” you said
“You are so different” you said
“Irreplaceable” you said
But I’m just one of many
One in your countless harem

Playing along
Oblivious
Used
Waiting for the bite
I surely know is coming
For you have hidden yourself
Tried so hard to conceal
That you are not nor pure

You do not intend to protect
You are a hunter,
Stalking your prey
Setting fires to all the pretty things

But my eyes are open

Not hypnotized into a trance

I can finally see

You took advantage

But you’ve made a mistake

A slip of the tongue

You are caught

Toxic

Hurtful

A wolf in sheep’s clothing

And I am setting myself free

R A H A S I A

Author: b0blegum

Pairing: Lee Jooheon x Reader

Rating: 17+ (language, violence, alcohol, sexual activity)

Genre: Gang, Action, Romance

Status: COMPLETED.

Part: part 1 // part 2 // part 3 (end)

Words: 2976

Summary: RAHASIA

/ra·ha·sia /

Origin: Indonesia

Meaning: Something that is kept or meant to be kept unknown or unseen by others.


Summer 2013

“Stop following me around.” A girl stopped walking suddenly, making the shadow behind her stopped as well. “Do you really think I don’t realized you’ve been following me for a week?” She turned around to nothing but a scoff.

“You haven’t changed a bit, huh? Always aware of your surrounding.” A raspy voice greeted her from afar.

“What do you want.” She asked bluntly.

“Boss misses you.” He answered, this time he made an appearance, as a silhouette he came closer to her. His hand hiding inside his pants pocket while a cigarette kept his other hand occupied. “Do you not miss her?” He inhaled the smoke than let it all out, making a perfect show of smoke with a ray of light shooting exactly to where his smoke traveled.

“I don’t.” She answered shortly.

“Don’t lie to me. I’m sure you do miss Boss, us.” He chuckled. “Don’t you miss killing those bastards with your pretty hands?”

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Vulcan Kisses

I was pressured to post this by @blueoftheenterprise because I’m pretty sure it’s not very good and I told her I had no intention of posting it. I’m apologizing in advance.
I will make a version of this will pictures some day, but that day is not today

1245 words

———————

“A what?”

You leaned back on the bed, watching the man in front of you tilting his head.

“An ozh'esta,” he repeated softly. “It is comparable to a kiss. I hope I am not being too forward y/n.”

“It’s certainly forward coming from you,” you admitted, “but I wouldn’t mind. So I take it from your questions that it’s not like a human one?”

“The traditional Vulcan kiss is performed with the fingers,” he explained patiently.  “In our culture, touch is a very reserved action due to our telepathic nature.  The neural points are strongest on our fingertips, which allows the contact to connect the minds to a slight degree. To a bonded couple the connection can be extreme.”

“So it’s just a finger touch?”

“Normally. However, my father explained to me about when he was with my mother. She was human and psy-null. He explained that they initially agreed to try certain movements of the hands. The sensitivity of them combined with the more intense motions provided stimulation to both parties. I wished to explore this possibility with you.”

You thought for a moment then sat up and nodded.

He held his fingers out to you. You glanced in confusion and saw a small sparkle of amusement cross his eyes. A cool hand reached over and cupped the back of your hand, turning your hand palm up. Slow slender fingers moved to curled your hand down into the correct position, two fingers extended and the rest curled down. He continued to hold the back of your hand and formed his free hand to an identical position and softly pressed the tips of his fingers to yours, meeting yours at an angle almost perpendicular.

There was a soft tingle in your mind, but you couldn’t tell if it was something from Spock or the nervous and excited nerves in your head. You watched in fascination as he slowly slid his hand around, the tips of his fingers never leaving yours. He guided your wrist and pivoted your hand against his until it mirrored his. Your folded fingers pressed against his and he uncurled his fingers to wrap around the back of your hand, holding the two together.

“Is this alright?” he asked softly, meeting your eyes. When you nodded, there was an almost loving look in his eye. “Simply do what feels natural and pleasurable to you.”

You nodded understanding and slowly slide the pads of your finger down the front of his pointer and ring finger. As you reached the lowest knuckle he released the grip on your hand and folded his free fingers back in, thumb tucked to the side of his hand this time, allowing you to explore without the other fingers in the way. You swore there was a hitch in his breathing but a moment later it was calm and equal as though you imagined it.

You moved your fingertips back up along his two fingers then allowed them to slide back down along the back side to his knuckle. This time your saw him close his eyes and you let your fingers trace back up the very tip of his fingers and paused. Spock’s head had tilted back slightly, enjoying himself. He was open here in a way you had never seen before. While it wasn’t emotional per say, there was certainly a level of calm in his expression that he wouldn’t normally allow people to see.

You parted your fingers and slid one on each side of his two connected finger fingers, sliding them down to his knuckle again. There was a deep breath from your partner and you softly applied a bit of pressure to both sides of his fingers as you moved back up. Spock swallowed hard and his eyes flew open, meeting yours, and you gave him a tiny smirk at the reaction.

He parted his own fingers and entwined them with yours, the four fingers making a octothorpe as they pivoted around each other before folding back together. It was almost a dance, moving so intimately yet so chastely against each other.

“Y/n…” Spock spoke through a shaky breath, and you paused. “Too much?”

“My fingers are much more… sensitive than yours.” He took a deep breath to steady the emotions he felt. You felt a smile tug on your lips.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked innocently, and Spock looked at you with slight widening eyes.

“That would not… be my preference.” You had never heard him hesitate like that and you suddenly realized  that if this was the Vulcan equivalent of a kiss, you were problem giving him some rather passionate makeout. It was not surprising that he was reacting in this way.

“Spock, I don’t mind stopping.”

Your hands were still folded against his, the bases of your fingers pressed against his. As he shook his head you carefully unfolded your fingers that had been pressing against your palm until the backs met the back of his hand, your hand forming the general shape of the ta’al. You glided your fingers across his, using the two sides of the salute on each side of his digits.

A deep rumbling sound came from his throat, somewhere between a moan and a purr. You studied his face as you continued your actions, and he licked his lips, eyes still closed but now his face has twisted into some sort of bliss. His hand mirrored the same position as yours and now your hands were gliding against each other in the same movements but so much more. Fingers glided against each other in smooth movements until you were holding your hand in the salute flat against his.

Suddenly a warm feeling seemed to enter your mind, but it was foreign. The emotion wasn’t familiar, almost foreign. Now it was your turn to look surprised as you met Spock’s eyes.

“I had said that such contact could open a path between our minds.” His pupils were dilated and glazed over with some emotion you couldn’t place from this man.

Something seemed to switch as he took over the kiss, allowing his fingers to entwine with yours. He was much more forward, knowing exactly what he was doing as he slid his fingers between yours, down to your palm. The emotion in your mind seemed to increase sharply and you realized that it was Spock’s enjoyment of this.

His fingers skillfully slid across the back of your hand, pivoting, rotating, exploring every inch of skin there. You held it still and let him skillfully manipulate your fingers. The movements increased. His actions sped up. The feeling in your mind was getting stronger and stronger, threatening to overwhelm you.

And then it stopped. His hand completely removed from yours. Disappointed, you glanced up to see a slightly apologetic Vulcan.

“I fear if I continue any further, I will not be able to control my desire,” he admitted, looking all too human in that moment, eyes still wild and blown, cheeks flushed green, and mouth curled and open from his panting breath.

“That was… wow.” You didn’t quite have the words to explain what was going through your mind. It had been far more intense than you realized. A glance at Spock’s completely disheveled look on his face told you he felt similarly. You leaned over and pressed a soft, very human kiss to his parted lips.

“Just wait until I show you about human kisses.”

2

HEY DID SOMEONE SAY UUUUUH THRILLING INTENT WARRIORS CATS AU

Black cat with white markings is Thog, white cat w grey is Ashe (Ashwing), golden kitty is Markus (warriors name pending), the big tabby friend markus is cuddling is Kyr (warriors name pending) and the brown kitty with the heart is Gregor (Heartpaw)

more details under the cut im so sorry mobile users njdsfjkndsfjndsf

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haroldstyles4nipples  asked:

Can you write an imagine where Harry fucks y/n in the bathroom of a friends house because y/n was making fun of old pictures and he wanted to show y/n how he'd changed? By the way your writing is amazing! Don't ever stop💜

HANDSY DRUNK HARRY WHO TAKES ANYTHING HE WANTS AND TOUCHES ANYWHERE HE WANTS ANDMSKSKWMSKSM PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Alright, this turned out a little differently, but… here we are! 

Reminder: requests are closed! x

064. Jet Plane 

It’s his last night in London before he jets to LA for God only knows how long – he only buys one way tickets these days because he doesn’t like to be told when he’s leaving. He’s enjoying not being on anyone’s schedule but his own, and he’s enjoying being able to pick up and head to whatever home of his he prefers or needs to be at without having to wait for a break in tour.

He had repeatedly said he didn’t want a party, but here they are, having a small get together with free-flowing liquor and the kind of greasy chippies that LA would turn its nose up at. He’s popular, understandably, with everyone wanting a moment – everyone wanting to just pick his brain on what’s next, and he, three cocktails in, is happy to oblige and to banter with friends and a few friends of friends, too.

“Hey, hey!” Harry laughs from across the room. He has a drink in his hand and he’s jutted his forefinger out to point it in the direction of his mate. “Put that away!”

“Just having some fun,” Jack called back to him. “She’s never seen these before, has she?”

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