i am pretty sure this was intentional

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.

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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
• 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”
• 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

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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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.


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.

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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.”

@queenyavengers Cause I am pretty sure I have seen a short post somewhere in the sea of Tony and Peter GIFs and Tumblr meltdown someone saying how great it would be if this happened. So I did this sucky little thing. 

“I was just trying to be like you.”

If he didn’t know any better, Tony would swear to God that the kid was his biologically. Right down to that look in his eyes. That look that pleaded with the adult in the room to be taken seriously, that hopeful tint that would make one understand that despite the totally crappy turn of events, the intent of one’s actions was placed in the right corner. 

He’s known this hopeful feeling, it still bounces in him frail as it is but he has also seen the entirety of the ugly side that came to being a superhero. He has also seen what his failures for being too sure in himself and dismissive of other people’s concerns has wrecked on this world. 

“I want you to be better.” Inevitably the disappointment of adult’s failure to understand brought out the tilt of the head sidewise down and lips set to show subtle aggravation. God but he could relate. He did not expect the trademark fed up teen look to shift into soft expression of genuine confusion. 

“Why would I want to be better?” There were not many moments in life when Tony was caught by surprise by such simply put question. Clearly he failed to hide it because Peter quickly continued to speak. “I mean, yes, I clearly underestimated my opponent and I need to work on my entire approach to this superhero business but why would I want to be better than you?”

“Did you sleepwalk through last nine years of your life kid?”

“No. I’ve seen the good and the bad. Some of your decisions have admitedly come with high price but you didn’t run away from them. The fact that after everything you still get up in the morning and do not hesitate to put on this suit to help people is amazing. That’s what I want. I want to be able to help people. And I still want to be like you.”

“Kid…” His eyes were not watering damn it. How the hell is this kid so astute? He’s sixteen, he shouldn’t be able to see have scuh perception on anyone, especially a human train wreck like him. “Superhero stuff is not all rainbow and sunshine.”

“Yeah, I beggining to get that.”

“You can’t just jump in head first to confront a guy who clearly had everything planned out well in advance. Following instructions sometimes is a good thing. When I said don’t do anything stupid this is exactly what I had in mind.”

“Then don’t just tell me, teach me!” Teach? Tony Stark teaching someone? That is ridiculously proposterous and a disaster in the making. “That’s not how this works kid.”

Peter actually gave him ‘Are you kidding me right now?’ face. “Then how does this work? Is this five percent advice from others and ninety five percent self discovery thing? You want me to not do stupid things and not take uneccessary risks. Clearly you don’t want me to repeat your mistakes. It’s not like this stuff is taught in highschool. So please teach me how to avoid them. Teach me how to be better. You are my superhero and I want to be like you.”

Tony bit the inside of his cheek and cursed himself. Damn it. 

@queenyavengers I totally blame you for feeding my plot bunnies. 

okay, so, you know that piece of banter between Liam and Peebee, when she says “I notice you often take position close to Ryder”? SHE WASN’T KIDDING.

so. Cora (who is not really THAT beefy in this playthrough just yet) is aaaaaaall the way down there in the middle of the carnage, holding aggro (u go girl ilu im sorry). and frankly, she’s taking a hell of a beating, but she’s holding out like the champ she is, because she’s just that awesome.

my super-squishy, at this point level 14 tech-sniper Ryder is crouching behind the only suitable cover about 100 meters away from the fight, behind the Nomad’s wheel, only poking her head out to lay down cover fire for Cora and blast the more careless of the kett to pieces.

and then there’s Liam.

who is supposed to be our tank.

with his melee focused attacks and his 700+ shields and 500+ health to my girl’s 200+ shields and 300+ health but don’t quote me on the numbers because I don’t remember exactly.

just standing there. out in the open, like he’s not even being shot at. trapping Ellie between a car and a hard place, so to speak, and taking all the enemy fire in her stead.

I gave him zero orders to do so. I never even use the whole “send your people to specific locations” feature. he just chose to stand right. there.

I am now 95% positive that he was programmed with the specific intention of staying near and protecting the player character, and nobody can stop me from interpreting that as further proof of his crush on her k

anonymous asked:

i love your art and gemsonas, dont get me wrong! but every time i see your pearl i cant help but see sarunochan's gemsona celestine with the eyeball on the chest design... which was pretty iconic... was that an intentional decision for your design of pearl, to mimic the eyeball shape with the chest gem and borrow from celestine's design? or just sort of a coincidence?

[ I drew it like that bc it looked neat and fitting. I am pretty sure that celestine does not hold design rights over chest windows or chest gems. I’ve had Pearl for over 2 years now and that part of him is not gonna change ]

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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A letter not for reading


Baz was looking intently at a paper. He hadn’t moved for a solid fifteen minutes. I am pretty sure that he didn’t notice that I came. I lean against the bedframe and look at him. I was trying to see if he was really frozen. He wasn’t. The paper has nothing but scratch outs. I take a step forward, causing the wood to creek. He suddenly spins around and gasp loudly. “You freak, why can’t you be this quiet in the morning?!” He yells at me angrily. “I was just thought you were possessed.” It came out as nervous. He freaked me out when he spun around so fast. “No such luck.” I added before taking the books from my bag. Penny scolded me earlier this morning, my grades have not been looking their best and Penny say it is because I am ‘obsessed with Baz’. I am not obsessed with Baz; he is just a dangerous vampire who I am forced to share a room with. Penny insists that it far worse to fail during the fifth year. How in the world am I supposed to focus on studying when Baz does things like this? He was plotting against me right there. He likes to write out his thoughts when he’s trying to do something big. During our first exams of the year, I found 3 planning lists. He crammed his schedule to the brim with things to do. He is inhuman and I am certain that he is plotting to kill me.


What in the world was I thinking? Why did I decide to write a love letter for Simon in our room? I am losing it. The fact that I am experimenting with methods to fall out of love is already ridiculous. I was trying to write a letter technically aimed at Simon. I did not ever intend to have him read it. I have not reached the level where reasoning is completely worthless to emotion. At least I haven’t yet. I cannot even write a simple letter, there is a chance that I am completely hopeless. Getting your feelings out on paper usually helps you understand them to get rid of them. I could not even do that. I feel so much. My feelings are complicated and there is so much I want to tell him. There is nothing that he needs to hear. I go into the woods because I needed to get away from the school. Every fucking corner is able to force me to think about Simon. I tracked down a wolf and spelled it frozen. I drained it dry and left it somewhere only other animals, who would eat it, could find it. I sat down on a large rock and pulled out the first draft of the letter and a pen. The first draft consisted of four crossed out sentences and frustration. There was a small pencil in pocket. It was too short to hold properly but throwing away a pencil feels ridiculous. I ditched the letter format and start writing out sentences. They grew and more coherent. Loose sentences became linked paragraphs. I grew tired and rolled the paper into a ball and put it in my pocket before heading back. I felt lighter. It eased the tightness in my chest but I discovered something I knew already. I am beyond any help.


Baz returned very late. I was considering leaving bed and go searching for him. I pretended to be asleep. I practiced it before. If Baz is a vampire, he must have good hearing. When he is asleep, I’d practice breathing at the same pace as him as he sleeps. I watch him when I am sure that he is not looking. I watch him strip. Pulling off his trousers, unbuttoning his shirt, hanging his tie. I was thinking that it was it, but I was wrong. He strips off his under shirt then pulls off his briefs. I cannot stop watching. He pulls on his pajamas over his nude body. I felt myself blushing. I really wanted to look away but it would give away that I’m not asleep. He soon gets into bed and looks at the ceiling. I find myself relaxing enough to fall asleep.

My dreams turned very bitter that night. I wish I could say I dreamt of fighting something or the Humdrum. Yet no. It was summer. It must have been after the first year because I felt small, helpless, and alone. I was in an orphanage. Everyone was glued to one window and I stood a few steps behind them. They were watching a small toddler who was holding the hands of his new parents. They were all sad but I was hollow. If a couple ever came up and decided to adopt me, the Mage would interfere and I would be taken to a different home. I saw them feeling hopeless. I had nothing to hope for. I’d remain unloved. Parents seem to have this unconditional and unfading love for love for their children. They hold them so tightly and tell them that they love them. It is also so much more than that. Kids love their parents doing their chores, feeding them, tucking them into sleep. Their love is shown more in those acts more than hugs and words. I envy them so much. They don’t appreciate it. I wish to be loved like them so much I was stuck in that moment. Watching that lucky child leave over and over again. I was miserable.

“SNOW WAKE UP! SIMON! Wake up!” Baz shook me. I gasped, waking up. I realized I was dripping in cold sweat. “What happened?” I fell back on the pillow. I felt more tired when I did when I went to bed. “You were trembling and mumbling something incoherent. I would have left you but you were to loud. Go back to sleep. If you wake me up again, I am kicking you out to the stairs.” He gets into bed and rolls away from me. I relax into my pillow but I feel bitterness in my mouth, wanting to cry.


Please don’t cry, Simon. I won’t be able to stop myself. After a while, he falls asleep again and doesn’t really heave nightmares again. I watch him sleep. I know it is not good for anything but I just want to protect his dreams.

I wake up, turned to him. I must have fallen asleep watching him. I’m exhausted. Fuck this. I roll in bed, tired. It is Saturday and he is making so much noise. I flinch when he spits in the sink, twice. I needed to sleep some more but when he finally left, I couldn’t sleep. I added a few lines of text to the rough and messy paper but then I wanted to make a proper one. I took one of my nicer papers. It was silky to the touch. I get a heavier black pen to write. I never use them anyway; I just hope it burns well. I look over what I wrote and started writing.

My Dearest Simon,

The world is full of hate. Anger. Resentment. We both get to encounter each every day. I know very well that I am a great source of such emotions for you. You, on the other hand, is one of the few things keeping me from getting consumed by such emotions. You are stupidly kind, brave, and loyal. Watching you every single day is excruciating pain because I want nothing more than protect you from what the world holds. I promise that in the end, no matter happens, I will protect you from myself. I will never truly harm you. If I managed to outsmart you or act quicker, I would regret it forever.

I am in love with you, Simon. When you are away, I think about when I will see you again. I hate when the Mage forces you to go and fight for him. I want you to be with me, safe and away from it all. I want to see you asleep and not always question if you are having nightmares. I want to see you eat after you always return so thin at the end of every summer. I watch to heal each wound. I want to kiss you when you are hurt. I want to sleep with you when you have nightmares. I want to tell you it is alright and that we will be alright. I want to talk you down when you get worried.

I love you, Simon. I want everything to be alright.


I sealed it and put it away to carry it to the fire place.

I did not notice how it fell out of my pocket and floated to Simon’s bed.


I get back late to our room. The Mage was chewing my brains out for hours. I wanted to talk about my dream but he did not really have the time or care. He said dreams are dreams and don’t mean anything. I spot something on the floor by bed. It could only be Baz’s. It was open. I got very curious. What if I get a clue to what Baz was plotting? I know I shouldn’t but I wanted to know. I felt like I had to.

I sat at the foot of my bed and started to read.

What a gentleman (Suga Scenario)

Idol: Suga (from Bts)

Type: Idk lol this is a weird kind of fluff.

Word count: 1280

A/N: This one is for my beloved friend @withnosuchgrace, I promised you this like ages ago but I’m glad it’s finally done. I really hope you like it, I figured our writing styles are different so I tried to do something a lil different than I usually do. I wish it worked lol. Enjoy.

Originally posted by sugagifs

It was such a cold and dark night. You couldn’t say it was raining because it wasn’t, it was the fucking universal flood itself. Which made even better the fact that you had forgotten your umbrella at home. As you walked out of the supermarket with no bags you were looking for a dry path to get to your car just to confirm there was none. 

You took a deep breath and started running under the rain. When you were finally in front of the car door you cursed for not looking for your keys before leaving your dry spot at the super. You checked your purse and your pockets a million times but they were not there. You cursed once more and hit your car window which made you curious to look inside. You hit it again when you found out you had left your keys inside.

At the exact moment you were going to call your insurence service for some help to get out of that mess you saw a slim figure walking lazily towards you. It got your full attention immediately when you saw whoever it was had no umbrella and no jacket either, even more soaked than you were.

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Post Delay

So I was going do some more cis Marco evidence searching today and debunking it. But today I am now up to rewatching “Friendenemies” and it is the first time I have watched it with intent to analyse it and well, yeah it is chock full of Tomco and trans Marco stuff and my brain is a bit overwhelmed with it, lol.

I think I’m gonna have to sit down with a pen and paper and take notes XD I’ll be sure to have stuff up tomorrow but I imagine this being a pretty in depth post when complete.

I apologise for the delay but I hope you’ll enjoy the end result :)

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💜


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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Originally posted by ilovelucifermorningstar

Requested by anon <3
Prompt:  an imagine where the reader works at Lux and they are closing for the night but someone comes to rob them and they get beat up and lucifer finds them but they don’t want to go to the hospital so lucifer takes them up to his loft and cleans them up


 The last dancer waved her hand at you as she was putting on her coat, you giving a half-assed wave back and continuing to wipe the counter. It was finally closing time and you were beyond relieved - Lux was overcrowded tonight and more customers meant more work for the bartender. 

 Sighing, you heard the door main door shut, a brief echo of the dancer talking to someone outside. The club went quiet. Lifting yourself up you threw the rag somewhere Lucifer wouldn’t see, taking a bottle of scotch home - you deserved it, after all. As you were about to go see the manager and the guards to inform them that it was indeed time to close, a dark figure shimmering at the corner of your eye caught your attention. Your first fast pace slowed to a stop, as you fully turned to look at a man sitting next to one of the tables. You tried to hold in a tired sigh, merely rolling your eyes and moving to the probably sleeping man, irritated. 

 Once you were within arms reach you leaned forward to shake him awake. You froze, your blood running cold when a gun was pointed straight at your forehead. You blinked a few times, unable to believe what was happening…

 "Step back or I’ll shoot.“ 




You found yourself in an unfamiliar place, your head stinging like a bitch and you were pretty sure that was blood dripping out your nose - either that or snot. Your glazed eyes glanced at a dark haired man who was intently wrapping a bandage around your head. Once he met your gaze a devilish smile lit up on his face, and stopping his action he tilted his head to get a better look at you. 

 "Off the cloud are we? And I was just about to start wondering where you always this boring or did you get a concussion.” Lucifer said.

 "What…happened?“ You asked, slowly, scanning the room you were in ”-and where am I?“

"You’re in my house, of course!” Lucifer exclaimed, as if it was obvious “where else would you be, silly willy? You were quite keen on staying away from the hospital despite your head nearly being split in half,” he explained, “-besides, who, given the chance, would chose a death reeking hospital over my humble abode?”

 You had the urge to raise your hand, but frankly you didn’t have the strength too. 

 "I do have to give you credit, though" Lucifer started again, taking a plaster out of a first aid kit “you did beat the chap quite nicely. Honestly if he wouldn’t have nicked you with the back of his gun you’d have won.” Gently, he wrapped it around your nose “-But he did so don’t give yourself too much credit.” He ended on a lighter note, moving away from you and taking out two crystal glasses, filling them with the finest brandy he had “You’re lucky I was there to save the day.” Lucifer winked, bringing you a drink. Silently, you took it “What’s your name, by the way?”

 "(Name)“ you told, quickly clearing your voice "It’s (Name).”

 "(Name) huh…“ He seemed to ponder for a minutes, taking a sip and staring off into the distance. Just as fast, Lucifers attention was back on you, with the same mischievous grin curling at the corners of his lips "I’ll make sure to remember it, (Name). Cheers.”

The Dynamics of the Phantomhive twins

Before I start this analysis I want to mention that I fully support the Two Ciel Theory. There is, of course, a huge possibilty that Ciel may suffer from some kind of disorder but I find this theory far more interesting (and many people have reasonable backup for this). I don’t want to prove this theory. Rather I make this post as I always wondered how the relationship between these brothers were. I mean they don’t have to be neccessarily twins but the dynamic between them could be very interesting. That’s why I chose to do this post after a long time of careful consideration. To make things more clearer I name Ciel’s brother Real!Ciel and our Ciel well… Our!Ciel.

Keep reading

Hello everyone. 

Eleven days into the new year and I haven’t posted anything in about half a year. It’s probably not necessary for me to explain my absence but I’d like to because I’ve put so much love into the drawings I posted that it doesn’t seem fair that I just stopped posting out of the blue with no warning. I made this blog out of pure love for Steven Universe. I also thought back then that I wanted to be an illustrator. I don’t think I had much passion for that field, just that everyone else was doing it and it seemed like the best option for me at the time. I’ve always loved to draw and I do my best to tell people to draw for the fun of it. I still believe it and I still have fun with my art. There does however come a point when you have to stop and really consider what you want to do as an artist. Do you really have passion for what you do? Do you have a strong passion for the career of your choice? Does it make you happy? Are you okay knowing that getting to where you want to be won’t be easy? And the big question: what is your goal as an artist?
These are questions to encourage you, not to give yourself doubt. It’s hard answering and coming to terms with these thoughts, but if you’re really determined, you can make it. This is what I’ve spent most of these past few months thinking about. I sincerely have a huge passion for art. I feel
it for art history and contemporary art, especially installation art- oh my god -especially installation. 

For as long as I can remember I’ve loved drawing. I used to draw on everything I could get my hands on. At four years old I scribbled Dragon Ball characters all over my parent’s bible. At that age there’s no restrictions, you just do and you go and you create. It’s so carefree and amazing. As you get older that carefreeness can go away and you’re stuck questioning yourself and the world around you.

In the fall I finally transferred to a new school in a new city. I finally did it. I went to community college for four years and finally transferred. A lot of personal ordeals at home also prompted me to want to move away as soon as I could, and as long as four years sound, I was actually able to do it. 

I love my new school and the city. My life has changed very significantly but coming home for the holidays and being back where I wanted to leave in the first place, I realize I still have a long way to go before I can truly be where I want to be. So what’s the point- my point is: That you can do it. I know, everyone says it, “if I can do it, you can do it.” But when you actually do it you understand everyone else’s intentions. It’s a pretty great feeling, and I’ll be so happy for each and everyone of you when you manage to take the next step. 

Where am I going after this, I’m not entirely sure. As for this blog I’m not going to delete it and I’m not sure if I want to continue using it but I’ll be sure to update on here if anything comes up and I do read all the messages and asks I get and I want to say thanks for enjoying my art! (who knows, on the rare occasion I still might post SU art- it’s still a great show!)

I do know that I want to create art. I don’t want to be an illustrator, instead I’m aiming to be a contemporary artist. Sounds very broad but even then I’m still very excited for the journey. My overall goal is to be happy. What I want to finish saying to all of you is to dream big. Never be disappointed if you don’t reach your goal. You should only be disappointed if you never did anything to even begin your journey to making your dream a reality. It’s the adventure and the unknowing that’s the fun part. Enjoy every second. Live like a child, carefree and rid yourself of the restrictions you’ve created for yourself. You’ll never have any regrets!