i did seven versions of this

HOW TO MAKE A MASTERLIST!

A lot of people have recently asked me how to make a masterlist so I made a ‘tutorial’ to help you guys! I hope it helps!


Step One: Open the text option in the Tumblr menu bar.

Step Two: Type in the title and type in the words you want to connect the link to.

Step Three: Copy the URL you want to use.

Step Four: Double click the words you want to connect the link to.

Step Five: Click the infinity sign thing this what you use to connect the link to the text.

Step Six: Then paste your copied URL into the box that pops up and click done!

Part Seven: You should see the three options below pop up if you did it right, and we all know sometimes things get lost along their way on Tumblr, so to be sure click the open option and see if it takes you to your link!

Hoped this helped, this is the simpliest and easiest way to explain it, because I used to look it up but those videos are with the older version, so yeah, much love and lots of hugs and kisses!

It’s nothing much but here’s my updated version on how I draw the children
(I’ve literally had no inspiration for PJO in like a month so)

2

Original painting and final cover by Bill Sienkiewicz from DC Science Fiction #3, published by DC Comics, 1985. 

This series was great! It featured I think seven over-sized adaptations of short stories by some of the best science fiction writers. This book in particular is outstanding and features Klaus Janson’s best artwork imo; he even did the painted colors himself. Keith Giffen’s adaptation of Robert Bloch’s Hell On Earth and Marshall Rogers’ version of Harlan Ellison’s Demon With a Glass Hand are also well worth tracking down. 

chinajousama  asked:

Oh boy, Nick. I lapsed greatly in my cataloging of "Things Nick Says That He Will Regret Later" (it's only up to mid 2016) but "#I'm not sure if he FAILED at something in the past and it still haunts him" - post/125962529489, "#Friendly Smiling versions of Kurogane" - post/128684760600, "tell me everything about Kurogane’s homeland immediately please okay thank you" - post/128740924834, *various kuro-past musings* - post/130231437564, post/130231942889, post/130232727589, post/130233327959/ etc.

Oh my goodness. The fact that you are keeping track of these at all is my favourite thing. 

WHO KNEW THAT SO MANY OF MY PAST GUESSES WOULD COME BACK AROUND TO LAUGH AT ME IN THE FACE.

doc-scarecrow  asked:

What do you think of Universal remaking it's classic monster films?

You know, there was a time way back when where, if I said that I thought that many of the Hammer Horror remakes of classic horror films were better, I would have been burned at the stake as a heretic.

Today, “the Hammer versions were better” seems to be a relatively uncontroversial and downright commonplace view. I think it might be (among other reasons) because of the Angry Video Game Nerd, who changed the whole conversation about the Hammer Horror films by chatting them up, pointing out how great they are.

Anyway, the point of bringing up Hammer is, I don’t think a remake is necessarily doomed to failure. And while some of the Universal movies are some of the greatest movies ever made (Bride of Frankenstein is the first sequel to be better than the original), some are very flawed and could benefit from another go to clarify the ideas there. The 1931 Dracula, for instance, had a great leading man and set design, but was hobbled by the fact that it was based on a stage play and didn’t use the strengths of film effectively. At times, it felt like a fixed camera recording a stage production.

I have some skepticism about the ability of Hollywood to actually produce really great movies, no matter what the intentions of individual creators are, simply for structural reasons. There is so much money involved that it discourages risk taking and encourages studio micromanagement. One of the biggest trends in film has been the desire by studios to make bigger movies “director-proof.” This was actually how Hollywood worked before the 1960s, with producers having all the power…but the problem is, it only works if you have a producer who knows what they are doing, like Louis Meyer, or to use a modern example, an overseer like Kevin Feige. Good art is reliant on risk-taking and doing things differently, which is harder to do when you’re gambling with ungodly sums like a $150 million dollar budget.

Isn’t Tom Cruise going to be in the Mummy remake? Before he became the Space Pope, Tom Cruise was my hero; in high school, I spent a lot of time making sure my hair looked like his in posters. Sure, he belongs to a weird space cult created by a bad pulp science fiction writer that blackmails journalists and gay actors, but he is one of the best guys at picking scripts. I don’t think he’s ever really been in a terrible movie.

Making the Mummy female is a great idea, and one with a great pedigree. The Mummy was always meant to be female. The first true Mummy novel, the one that codified the traits of the modern Mummy story, was Bram Stoker’s novel Jewel of the Seven Stars, which featured a female mummy (and, to bring things full circle, Hammer Horror, classy as ever, did a version of Jewel of the Seven Stars, Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb, with 5’11” amazon Valerie Leon).

The really good Mummy films are all about love beyond death, reincarnation, doomed lovers reunited in past ages who get a second chance, and eerie sorcery. A film critic once said that all the very good James Bond movies are romances…and the same is true for Mummy films. Likewise, the Mummy is not a Creature from the Black Lagoon or Frankenstein creature who lumbers and uses strength to choke people; he or she is a sorcerer, like a voodoo priestess. The fear there is the fear of magic, which comes from another age and “breaks the rules.” If they keep these things in mind, they should be okay.

8

“If memory served, it happened in the beginning of the 13th century…”


So I guess it’s kinda self explanatory;
My fake anime scenes of Crowleys story from the Michaela novels.

I think this is a good example of what happens when you get a little too excited, have no self control and are a perfectionist artist.
This took me about three weeks to finish, since I wanted to post them all together. The characters are of course references from the original OnS anime to make it look more believable as actual screenshots. I did take some artistic freedom with some of the designs e.g. Jose and Victor, and of course Crowleys hair and Ferid’s appearance in general. But I think I did ok.
Drew, colored and shaded everything myself.
And yes, I did draw seven different backgrounds all by myself. A task I’ve never taken before and this was actually a really good challenge for me, never before had I realized how much background actually matters in a picture. And to be honest I’m really happy with the results.
(Also reduced jpg quality on purpose.)
“Subtitles” are from the fan-translated english version of the story by @chilly-territory

This was probably one of the biggest projects I’ve ever taken and it was a lot of blood, hype and tears all the way.
I really hope you like it~

A Bit Complicated

It was an ordinary day in the Lucky Pumpkin Tavern and Paula the bartender was serving up some of her usual costumers with their favourite drinks, asking how their days went. Peter the blacksmith made progress on the lord’s daughter’s new sword. Tefira the seamstress is considering proposing to her girlfriend. And Little Appie just turned 18 and was having his first real alcoholic drink. It was a fun day, Paula thought fondly.

It was getting close to sundown, everybody already left and Paula was about to close down, but not before one last costumer entered the tavern. Denira the adventurer stomped through the front doors and nearly collapsed onto the counter, her heavy golden armour clanking against the wood as she did.

“Hard day, Denira?” she asked the weary elven woman. “I like your new armour. How did you get it?”

“It’s a long story, Paula.” Denira sat up, her face seeming like she’s been through hell. “It was a heck of an adventure.”

Keep reading

Sleepy 707 x MC cuddles! ~


BONUS:

He’s not awake until he’s had his Honey  Buddha Chips! XD


I saw a messy sketch of my oc’s cuddling that I did AGES ago and decided to redraw it… and then once I’d done that I had to make a 707 version too! ^^ 

Reference may have been used for the original but Idk anymore it was so long ago xD 

Sir Hugsalot

This one’s for Precious, @saved-by-the-notepad​, because she she deserves a lot of hugs and a Hugsalot of her own <3


Monsoon was a neutral season in the Avengers Tower. While summer meant hogging the pools and cribbing about sunburns, fall meant Natasha glaring at anyone talking about Halloween (Clint simply said Budapest, like that explained all of Natasha’s quirks), and spring was Thor’s paradise while the others watched out for Loki. Winter, by unspoken agreement, was nobody’s favorite.

But monsoon, that was the neutral zone. There was no rule during monsoon, except for Clint’s rules because an unleashed and unrestricted Clint was always a danger to the constantly bleak Avengers PR. Other than those, there were no rules and no set traditions that came to be. It was a quiet season, one where even the loudest ruckus was always tinged by a subdued air. There was no rhyme or reason to it, but Tony always reckoned that it was the rain that brought it. Rain was always moody to the genius; it always flitted between being playful and alive, and morose and stoic. Tony often caught Steve or Thor gazing at the windows, watching a lone raindrop trickle down. Like they were watching some invisible reflection cry.

It was a neutral zone, but not one that Tony always felt comfortable about. He knew his team well enough, despite what a suspicious Hill said, to say that they were all sad creatures wrapped in manic energy and insane power. They weren’t happy by nature, no matter what people saw in a boisterous Thor or a cheeky Clint. Or maybe they were and the job sucked that out of him. He didn’t really know. All he knew was that they had enough of rain dampening their moods on a general range.

He knew that. He also knew that it wasn’t something changeable. But it never sat well with him, as he watched them brood openly - the way he did in hiding in his workshop. 

This irk was fine as it was, if Tony’s itch for some madness hadn’t combined with it one dark evening. He had been watching Steve surreptitiously, as one does when hoping to avoid being caught red handed by the greatest crush of one’s life. The supersoldier had been gazing listlessly at the window, a sketchbook in hand and lost expression on his face. Steve’s sketches reflected his moods, Tony knew that. He also knew that at the moment, Steve’s sketches would be the personification of melancholy. 

It had been sheer dumb luck, as he would explain to Rhodey later, that Natasha and Bruce had been watching Big Hero 6 at that time. Natasha had a strange affection to animation and Bruce was the only one who never acted weird about it, so it was a routine between them to watch an animated movie on the quiet nights. 

“ Hairy baby! Hairy baaaby!”, a lilting robotic voice drew his attention to the large screen and Tony watched as a loopy Baymax petting a grumpy but purring cat with an adoring expression.

“Health care, your pers… personal Baymax companion..” the adorably drunk sounding big balloon of fluff reminded Hiro and…

Tony sat up straight and felt a lightening zing in his brain. His mind raced through the concept and its implications. A personal care provider, he thought with growing excitement. A walking marshmallow who could do the things that Tony knew his team needed but couldn’t do for them himself. The hugging and the caring and the comforting…

“Yess,” Tony hissed in excitement and raised an eyebrow when both Bruce and Natasha shushed him without looking back from their spot. Scrambling to his feet and mind already working over the idea, Tony shot one last look at a somber looking Steve and shot out of the floor with his workshop in mind.

He was going to make monsoon happy goddammit, even if he had to engineer a Disney character modification for it.

———-

“It’s Big Foot,” Sam said after an hour of observing Tony’s masterpiece. Tony’s eye twitched and he suppressed the urge to pour his smoothie down Sam’s head with great restraint. Great restraint.

“It’s not Big Foot,” Tony said in what he thought was a perfectly reasonable tone but Sam’s raised eyebrow hinted that it wasn’t coming out too well, “It’s a StarkPal. A companion with the highest emotional, physical, and mental health care giving capability.”

“It still looks like Big Foot,” Sam shrugged and Tony shot an unrepentant Rhodey a glare from his stool for inflicting this one him. When he had asked Rhodey to come by to see his latest invention, he had not expected him to bring his new boyfriend and Tony’s not-so-secret-secret-friend-and-teammate with him. In an attempt to play civil, Tony had asked Sam for his opinion on the invention.

Biggest mistake of his life in the past three days.

“It looks non threatening,” Tony retorted and Sam shot him a wry look.

“It has an armor. It’s literally wearing an armor,” he pointed as the seven foot tall bot that had a golden armor. Thankfully, it wasn’t metal and seemed more like padding than anything else.

“It looks majestic,” Tony hissed, because he had a thing for armors. Surprising to no one.

“It looks like a Yeti who just got knighted,” Rhodey offered from the workshop couch and Tony really, truly hoped that his best friend would be bitten by that missing bug that Tony forgot to take out last week,

“It’s not…it’s a care companion!” Tony gestured towards the white and gold bot with large blue eyes. That was totally not inspired from any supersoldier.

“I’m not saying it’s not cool,” Sam said with a small grin and hopped up to circle around the bot with sharp eyes, “It’s pretty cool. And sure, the idea is pretty awesome, even if you got it from Disney.”

“They totally got Hiro from me,” Tony countered and Sam raised his hands in mock surrender even though his eyes were warm and laughing.

“Sure, man,” he nodded and looked back over his shoulder at Rhodey, “So, what are we calling Tony’s latest love gift for Steve?”

“It’s NOT a -” Tony bit out with widened eyes but Rhodey spoke over him.

“Dunno,” Rhodey looked thoughtful, “It looks very Arthurian. Should have an appropriate name.”

“Hmm,” Sam hummed, “Kinda like a knight?”

“Yeah,” Rhodey nodded and looked at Tony, “Any suggestions, lover boy?”

Tony ignored the lover boy comment and tilted his head at the bot which was now scanning the three occupants of the place.

“Hugo?” 

“Meh,” Sam wrinkled his nose.

“Lancelot?” Rhodey suggested and the others made unimpressed faces.

“Merlin?”

“No magic,” Tony quipped and remembered the last time magic brought them trouble. Steve was super mad at him that time, for endangering himself and -

“You seem sad,” the bot spoke up and Tony saw Sam jump a bit while Rhodey blinked.

“What?”

“My scans and calculations indicate that you are experiencing an emotion,” the bot explained, gazing calmly at Tony, “It says in my database that the emotion is sadness.”

“Um,” Tony cleared his throat and carefully did not look at the others, “No, I’m -”

“My solutions include a variety of activities and dietary implements, along with conversation with your preferred humans. Or me,” the bot continued, “The first on my list of activities seem to be hugging.”

“Oh no, no , no -” Tony was cut off when the knight-bot stepped forward and carefully embraced him in a warm hug.

“There, there,” the bot cooed and patted the genius on his head while gently swaying with him in its arms. 

“Oh my god,” Sam whispered in an awed tone and Tony tried to get out of the hug but it just…felt…good.

“I think,” Rhodey said after a minute, in his smug tone, “we have a name.”

Tony just knew that his magnificent invention was doomed to have the cheesiest name in history.

——

“Meet Sir Hugsalot”

Hugsalot waved in a half circular hand motion and then did it again when Clint waved back with an amused expression.

“Is this…what is this?” Bruce asked as he took in the seven foot armored marshmallow like bot, “Is this your version of Baymax?”

“It’s an improved version of Baymax,” Tony corrected as though offended and Bruce shared a quick look with Natasha, “This is a StarkPal. Fully functional, real, and marketable.”

“Wait, you’re selling robot friends now?” Clint asked with a choked laugh as he observed Hugsalot with curious eyes.

“Not…yet,” Tony hedged before continuing, “This is a prototype, and I thought, who better to test on than my favorite pigs?”

“We’re you favorite?” Natasha asked deadpanned and Tony winked at her like the completely reckless man he was.

“My favorite guinea pigs,” Tony corrected and moved a bit when Thor came forward to poke at Hugsalot.

“Hello, Sir Hugsalot,” Thor boomed and extended an arm to the bot, “It is an honor to meet you.”

“Hello, Thor,” Hugsalot replied in a voice that Tony thought sounded a bit like Leonard Nimoy, “I must complement you on your attire today. You look resplendent in this shade of red.”

“You taught it to flirt?” Natasha raised an eyebrow at Tony but Thor simply laughed with joy, always liking it when somebody complemented him.

“Tony, he is a great companion indeed!” Thor turned to Tony and clapped him on the back before turning to Hugsalot.

“Well, this is going to be entertaining,” Clint commented and Tony noticed that Steve had been the only one to stay silent through the entire demonstration, noting the supersoldier watching the bot with an unreadable expression.

—–

Hugsalot, or Hugsie as Clint shortened it, was a hit among the Avengers. It was almost creepy if you thought about it but he had become a faster friend to them than any human had.

He would quietly help Bruce with his balcony garden, talking in soft tones about the latest opera music Bruce was listening to. He would gently provide foot massages and hum lullabies to Natasha as they huddled on the couch. He would help Clint do target practice and would never flinch when Clint tried the cliched apple trick on him. With Thor he would listen endlessly to the numerous battle stories and sometimes laments of romance, always offering warm hugs by the end.

But it was Steve that piqued Tony’s curiosity. Hugsalot simply sat with Steve and did nothing. They would sit together on the roof, Steve sketching the sunset and Hugsie staying quiet beside him. They would spend hours in Steve’s suite, where Steve drew Hugsie on canvas and the bot patiently stayed the perfect muse. Steve never really DID anything with Hugsie. He would never ask for hugs or accept them when offered. He was always polite, always kind with the bot, but he never interacted with it the way Tony had intended for.

And Steve still sat by the window, watching raindrops trickle down the glass.

It ate away at Tony for three weeks, making him feel disappointed with himself and dejected at Steve’s unchanged sadness. He felt incompetent. It was the worst feeling he could feel.

Finally, after three weeks, he lost his patience and cornered Steve in the gym.

“So, you don’t like him?”

Steve looked up from the bag he was decimating and then continued with his boxing.

“What?”

“Hugsalot,” Tony gestured impatiently in the air, “You don’t like him?”

“I never said that,” Steve replied calmly and screw it, Tony never liked calm all that much anyway. He neatly steps between Steve and the bag and raises an eyebrow at the fist that almost hits him. Almost.

“Really?” Steve asked, panting with adrenaline and eyes a stormy azure, narrowing slightly at Tony’s action, “Really, Tony?”

“You wouldn’t hit me,” Tony dismissed the idea with a flick of his hand and stared up at Steve, “Important point is that you don’t like Hugsalot. Which is weird because he’s programmed to be likeable. Natasha likes him, and she doesn’t like most people.”

“She likes you too,” Steve quipped, moving away with grace as he resigned himself to unwrap his hands.

“Yeah, well I’m incomparable, that’s different,” Tony grinned, “I’m an acquired taste and you guys have acquired me by now.”

“Acquired taste,” Steve repeated and shook his head with a small huff of a chuckle, “Like wasabi.”

“You think that would hurt me, but it won’t,” Tony snorted, “Wasabi is a food of the gods according to Thor.”

“Thor…” Steve started to say and Tony raised an eyebrow with a smirk, daring him to say it, but Steve simply rolled his eyes, “..is right, of course.”

“Of course,” Tony echoes with a slightly softer grin and then turns quiet for a minute, watching as Steve goes about drinking his water.

It aches him with the fervor of a physical wound, the inability to be useful or helpful to this man. This man, who Tony knows has shouldered more burden than anyone should be allowed. This man who can decimate a reinforced punching bag with the same ferocity as the gentleness he uses to brush strokes on a plain canvas. This man who had captured all of Tony’s expectations and rules and thrown them out the window the minute he had met him. 

This man whom Tony was madly in love with, for every reason he could thinks of.

“I don’t - “ Tony began and exhaled in a shuddering breath as he collected his disappointed thoughts even as Steve eyed him blankly, “I don’t know what to do.”

Steve doesn’t speak, patient and quiet in his silence and Tony tries again

“I don’t know how to help,” he spoke miserably, shifting his gaze away from Steve and glaring at the floor, “How to fix anything. I don’t know…emotions. They’re too, they’re too hooded for me. I’m not an onion guy, Steve and emotions and feelings, they’re like onions. You have to peel back layer after layer. Sometimes people even wonder if I have any. Emotions, I mean, not onions. But I’ve made enough people cry so I’m guessing I do.”

He took a stuttering breath and continued, looking up but not meeting Steve’s eyes completely.

“Monsoons are neutral for us,” he said and he knew he was blabbering, knew he wouldn’t make sense but he had to get it out, “I mean, we don’t have anything against the rains. It rains, it becomes cloudy, we shrug and move on. We don’t really do anything during monsoons, not here. We’re not…we’re not monsoon people.”

“But,” he drags a hand through his hair and laughs weakly, “it does rain. And it screws up our lives sometimes, that wet blanket. It’s not something we see all that well, because we think, oh if I stay inside and don’t go out, I won’t be drenched. The rain won’t affect me. But it still does, because it always does. It’s stupid and it’s pointless and it doesn’t have any logic but it does. Like a lone raindrop on a window pane, it drags us down.”

Pulling on all of his reserves in courage, Tony looked at Steve, actually looked at him and spoke.

“The thing though,” he said, “the thing to remember though, Cap, is that it’s just one of the seasons. And it can’t rain forever.”

“Tony -” Steve’s eyes are bright, too bright, too wide and Tony has never been able to resist them, even for his stupid hugging bots.

“I wanted you to have a friend,” he said, dragging the words out from some dark cavern of his soul, “You have us, yes, but…it doesn’t seem enough. I wanted you to have more. Somebody who wasn’t screwed up and who, for once, didn’t need you to carry their burden or take care of them.”

“I wanted you to have a friend and I created Hugsalot,” Tony said with a shaky, weak grin.

It’s back to silence and Tony has never done well with it. He has always been noise, always been action,but this, this is all Steve. And for this man, Tony would be anything.

“I wanted him to be you,” Steve said after a while, too long a while and Tony’s eyes shot up to meet the azure ones that haunted his dreams and made them too.

“What?” he croaked out and Steve let out a small, shaky grin.

“You made me another me, Tony,” he said and Tony - he was gobsmacked. He simply stared at Steve and felt all the silenced thoughts crashing back on him. The eyes, the personality, the warmth of hugs, the idea of a golden armor to protect the bot, the mannerisms. God, he had created his own Steve.

“I wanted him to be you,” Steve said again and Tony was lost, he was always lost when it came to Steve.

“That’s…that’s a bad idea,” Tony chuckled wetly because what were they discussing anymore. What were they talking about?

“Always liked bad ideas,” Steve shrugged, an easy grin on his face, as though his eyes weren’t shining and his face wasn’t brightening, “Did everything good based on bad ideas.”

“I’m not good at,” Tony waved his hand a bit, “caring.”

“I disagree,” Steve said and tilted his head with a fond expression.

“Or being a friend.”

“Definitely disagree,” Steve chuckled and Tony felt an ache settle, calm down in him.

“Or hugging”

“That,” Steve quipped and finally, finally took a step forward, coming closer to Tony and staring back at him with the fondest expression, “remains a theory to be tested.”

“Yeah?” Tony was definitely not sounding choked but Steve simply nodded, a fringe of blonde hair falling onto his forehead.

“Yeah, and you said something about us being your favorite guinea pigs,” Steve replied and opened his arms with a cheeky expression that had Tony choking out a laugh.

“Guinea pig,” Tony muttered and stumbled forward, unbalanced and yet more steady than ever as he steps up and into a pair of arms that…

…that feel warmer and better than any Hugsalot could ever be.

Steve hummed and tightened his hold lightly, breathing in when TOny snuggled closer into Steve’s chest, burying his face into the man’s chest.

“See?” Steve whispered into Tony’s hair, soft and easy and almost happy, “theory disproved. You’re great at hugging.”

Tony let out a sound, something embarrassing he’s sure, but he didn’t let go and stayed, wrapping his arms tighter around Steve’s waist.

For this man, he would disprove every theory they knew.

—-

Hugsie still lives with the ragtag group of seasonal superheroes who turn out to actually be perennial monsoon people. They’re all a bit damp, a bit of wet blankets, and definitely lone raindrops down window panes. But they also stick around for the clouds to clear and the rainbow that comes out after that.

Well, as Clint says, it’s as good as being hugged by your personal hugging pal.


I hope that this didn’t turn out to be an absolute mess. Lots of love, Precious darling <3 Hope you have a better week ahead :D

swim au

so close yet so far (to the end) 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

ao3

Keep reading

zen-harunyandere  asked:

If u dnt mind may I req again? How about Zen that suddenly can come to the real world and search for MC? But yea MC isn't the one like she's in messenger (MC looks like ourselves reader), so MC the first one see him and recognize, ends up fluff? ❤Ty!

Of course, you can request again, as along as requests are open feel free to request. I like this idea, I also like the idea of MC being in control of their world, I’m just a sucker for fantasy things. I’ve decided to go for the idea that Mystic Messenger isn’t a game, it’s an alternate dimension, and it’s not seen as a game. 

Also, I haven’t played the April Fools route, but I’ve heard Zen mentions being in different dimensions? I’m not sure, but it won’t be based off that. Sorry if that’s what you wanted, but I hope you still like my version!

Oh, there’s also a very cool post about Cheritz previous games and how MM fits into the world, and why Seven breaks the fourth wall all the time, you can find it here. I suggest you read it, it’s very interesting! 

Keep reading

Piggyback

“Juggie… can you carry me?” Betty asks, feet dragging behind her. Jughead grips his backpack strap tighter and turn around to face his girlfriend. He just rolled his eyes and grabbed her by the hand pulling her towards him.

“Bets, you need to walk. Were almost there. Trust me. It’s like… maybe ten minutes until were there. Can you last that long?” Jughead asks, holding both of Betty’s hands in his.

Betty just rolled his eyes and looked up at his beanied boyfriend. “I don’t think so. Jug, please please please please carry me!” she begged, batting her eyes and pushing out her bottom lip, making a puppy face at him. 

“Elizabeth cooper, you know I can’t say no to that face,” he said, moving his face closer to Betty’s. She just giggled and glanced down to her feet before meeting Jughead’s eyes. “fine. I’ll give you a piggy back for five minutes,” Betty just smiled and gave him a small kiss on his lips. “But, you have to give me a piggy back for five minutes. Deal?” he asks, now giving Betty the puppy dog face.

Betty just sighed and gave him another small kiss on the lips. “Fine. Deal.” she said, turning Jughead around and jumping onto his back. 

Through out the walk Betty started to play with the old knitted beanie on Jughead’s head. “I can feel you up there.” Jug said, rubbing his thumb over one of her thighs that he was holding. 

Betty let a small giggle escape her lips and then planted a small kiss on the top of his beanied head. “I can’t believe you still wear this hat. I made the first one like forever ago. Is the new bigger one good?” she asked, hopping off of her boyfriends back.

Jughead turned his girlfriend around so that they face each other. “Bets, I loved the old beanie. I love the new beanie too. It’s amazing and even better then the first one. I just, you know, grew out of it. I love this beanie. It’s my safety blanket. Thank you for making me the smaller version when we were younger. I love it.” he said, gripping her hands giving her a light gentle kiss on her forehead. 

Betty blushed and gave him a kiss on his lips. “Your welcome. Hey, why did you put me down?” she asked looking into his deep dark eyes.

Jughead just smiled and let out a small chuckle. “Betty, you promised. It’s been like seven minutes. It’s my turn to be carried. Come on, lets go, chop chop.”

Betty just laughed and leaned down so her boyfriend would be able to jump on. “Are you serious Bets? You’ll actually carry me? Aren’t I too heavy?” he asked, worried about his blonde beauty.

Betty just rolled her eyes and stood up straight again. “Ok Jughead Jones. One, we had a deal. I have to carry you. Two, yes I’ll carry you. We had a deal. Three, dude you weigh like 120 pounds, and I wrestle and work out with my dad. It’s all good. Now hurry up, I’m hungry!” She said, leaning back down so Jug could easily jump onto her back. 

He jumped once and then landed on her soft back. “You ready?” he asked, raising one of his eyebrows. 

“Yes Jones, don’t worry about me. I’m all good.” she said, a cute smile forming on her lips. She started trudging along the trail while Jughead started playing with the tips of her blond locks. 

After around three minutes of walking, he started singing something you would never expect Jughead Jones the Third to be singing.

“Snape, Snape, Severus Snape. Snape, Snape, Severus Snape…” he mumbled, continuing to attempt to braid the end of her soft peach and vanilla scented hair.

After a few more seconds of him singing into her ear, she decided to join in. “Dumbledore!” she sang, joining in at the perfect time. Jug was startled that he fell of his girlfriends back and landed into the dusty trail. They both just looked at each other and started laughing.

“Wow Bets, you couldn’t of given me a heads up?” He asks still laughing while pushing his way off of the ground. Betty just laughed and shook her head, reaching her hand out to help her precious beanie baby up off the ground. 

“Lucky you Bets, you don’t need to carry me anymore,” he stated, holding Betty’s hand. She just gave him a puzzled look while he rolled his eyes, “Were here idiot.”

They both laughed as they looked to see a patch of grass at the edge of a low cliff, over looking the sunset. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and whispered something super sweet into his ear.

“I am never giving you a piggyback ever again. You are heavier then you look Jones.” He just started laughing and whispered something even sweeter into her ear.

“Same to you Cooper.”

anonymous asked:

bec did you ever see the simpsons episode where lisa went to that spelling bee and the presenter didnt want her to win and gave her a trick word at the end but when she asked for a sentence he used both versions that was demonic shes like 8

I remember that episode vividly because she gets offered free tuition to one of the seven sisters colleges and then Lisa has a dream humanizing said colleges and two of them kiss

s i l l a g e | pt. seven

Pairing: Reader / Jeon Jeongguk.

Genre: Soulmate!AU where soulmates are drawn to one another by the infliction of physical touch, whether it be pain or pleasure. But it is only initiated once the two people somewhat interact.

Count: 8,354 words.

Warnings: Death mention. Smut that is quite descriptive for plot purposes. Delicious angst foreshadowing that I live for. This is painfully unedited. 


The wrath of Joy occurs at the ripe, blood-curdling hour of seven in the morning. And it is a Sunday, the worldwide known day of sleep ins. Who even wakes up before ten? Joy does. Lively, enthusiastic, and downright frightening Joy.

She, in all of her natural form, comes like a whirlwind into your room, wreaking havoc and causing destruction in her wake. It is not unusual for her to barge in like this, declaring word of the farmer’s market or an early morning bike ride that you attend in such a lethargic state that you almost crash into a bush twice. But today is different, very different, because you are surrounded in another body warmth and a beating heart and a mouth gently snoring against your throat, a palm splayed messily on the small of your back beneath your sweater, the soapy vanilla and honey scent of his skin consuming your every sense in the most delightful of ways. Jeongguk is obliviously asleep, and you are barely waking, the slamming of your door against the plaster like a familiar alarm, a signal that your painfully zealous best friend was awake, and so therefore, you must get up too.

Though instead of the usual annoyance that pricks at the nape of your neck, your chest is rather weighed down by a dreaded, heavy leaded fear. You were most certainly going to introduce Joy to Jeongguk, but definitely not like this. Almost on instinct and in a feeble attempt of protection, you curl your arms tighter around him, who is mostly concealed by the duvet, blissfully unaware of the rude awakening he is quite literally about to receive. Inky black waves of hair bob energetically at the end of your bed, and you know that hell is a slow descent, and it is only just beginning.

Keep reading

Prankster War (MC/Seven)

A/N: Mystic Messenger (MC/Seven, lee Seven) -  22. “You know how it is. What happens next.” - Second fic I’m posting today! Aaall written at work :3 oh how I love the calm and peaceful days XD

Summary: Prankster wars are fun and revenge is sweet. Let’s prove that to your boyfriend Seven ;D

Word Count: 1650


You couldn’t stop smiling as you carefully dragged the pen from Seven’s cheek, down his chin towards his other cheek, finishing the masterpiece of an artwork on his face. Or not, it wasn’t what you could call pretty. Ha. The uglier the better. 

Smirking, you put down the pen and rubbed your hands together. Seven wasn’t really making the prankster war you two were in lately much harder for you, by staying up two nights in a row for work, heh, the workaholic. 

The overwork had resulted in him falling asleep in his chair, in a sitting position with his laptop in his lap; that’s how you found him and it was the best discovery ever. You had removed his laptop and worked out the best plan you ever had. Now you were finally getting revenge for his last few strikes on you. 

“Wakey wakey!” You patted his cheek and then proceeded to pat both cheeks repeatedly until he woke up.

“Eghh huuh?” he groaned sleepily, and you immediately shoved a mirror into his face. An artist’s artwork à la Jigglypuff was drawn on his face, and Seven gaped at his reflection. 

With his real glasses gone, you had given him beautiful red glasses with a red marker, decorated with pen-drawn sunny faces, a zigzagging line from one cheek to the other and the text ‘I surrender’ on his forehead. 

“Oh no you didn’t,” Seven said, grabbing his face in disbelief. 

“Yes I did dear,” you said, taking away the mirror, and shooting him a sneaky look. Seven clenched his fists and smirked.

“That’ll be your regret honey. You know how it is. What happens next.” Seven was saying all this in a cocky tone, and it was even more hilarious that he wasn’t aware of the full version of your prank on him yet. Yes, you knew what he meant. 

What he was thinking would happen next was probably something along the lines of him tackling you down and tickling you until you lose sense of time or any sense at all. 

Torturing you and having you scream ‘I surrender, I surrender!’ numerous times and still without stopping. That’s what would have happened in this everlasting prankster war which most of the time resulted in a tickle war, with you on the losing side. But not this time.

“Not this time. It’s not what you think,” you said in a knowing voice with a face that came close to his own cocky expression, and you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Prepare yourself fooor –” Seven tried to launch himself at you but only realized now that you had tied him to the chair. Secured his lovely body with a masterpiece of ropes, belts and sashes; a long rope circling around his waist and trapping him against the chair. His legs were tied to each chair leg, and you had left his arms free to do this:

“Yes baby, can’t move now can you?” you taunted, walking around the chair and taking one of his arms to pull it behind him.

“Wah! Let me gooo!” Seven cried out dramatically when you managed to get a hold of his other arm, and you finished your work by tying his hands behind the chair, leaving him completely helpless and vulnerable.

“Got any last words?” you asked, wickedly wiggling your fingers at him with an evil smirk on your face.

“Uh, I surrender?” he said with a sweet smile, and you rolled your eyes.

“Boooring. That’s way too fast. Let me hear it while you laugh and scream for mercy. Only then I’ll take it seriously!” Crawling into the skin of the villain this time, you chuckled with an evil voice and took seat on top of him, straddling him with each of your knees pressing into the armchairs.

“Nohoho! I can’t move at all! Free me, aahahaha!” Seven was already cackling hysterically and this increased both volume and pitch when you drilled your fingers into his sides for real.

“Gaaahaha this is meehehean!” Seven squealed, throwing his head back and from side to side. It was actually the most hilarious thing you’d ever seen. His doodle-face was getting a nice red color to it as well, and you slid yourself down a little so you could place both hands on his waist and squeeze the laughter out of him.

Keep reading

beingfacetious  asked:

3, 7, 10, 17

Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now?*
This is a great question but I’m drawing a blank. I guess I liked HIMYM for a time and now I can never watch it ever again because when the finale aired, somehow all copies of the show ceased to exist forever and it was erased from time completely. Weird right.

10. most disliked arc? Why?

The Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Special. Of course calling this an “ARC” is real generous when it was one episode that had huge ramifications for the past and almost 0 ramifications for the show going forward because it was totally pointless except as a one-off self-congratulatory “lookie what I did” but!!! We brought in a secret Doctor (??!?!) as the Doctor’s deep dark secret (??!?!!) who didn’t call himself “the Doctor” anymore because angst and instead called himself “THE WAR DOCTOR” (???!?!?!!) so that Billie Piper could return playing a glorified version of Siri (?????) and only interact with John Hurt (??!?!?!?!?!?!) while Ten fucks Queen Elizabeth (????????????????) all so that we could… retcon the emotional backbone of the entire previous seven seasons all to accomplish… fuckin’… nothing? I guess??! We still got the next Doctor being dark and broody for no reason at all, we’ve barely done anything with Gallifrey that couldn’t have been done a hundred other ways, we STILL even get one-off lines about the big bad Time War asflahrwlwarlT god!!!

17. Instead of XYZ happening, I would’ve made ABC happen instead…

INSTEAD OF… ANY OF THE ABOVE HAPPENING I WOULD’VE MADE THE 50TH BE ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE

Bring back more of the old companions and Doctors for funsies and have a silly romp. Restructure it so Eleven, Ten and Screen Legend John Hurt find closure to the Time War by realizing it was the right thing to do because Gallifrey had itself become a monster. Have the Doctor realize he failed and surprise Gallifrey hid itself, or there’s a refugee colony, or literally anything!!! Anything else!!

anonymous asked:

why did you change your avatar picture? I loved the old one! will miss it. it went well with the pastel blue

To be honest, I was having a moment where I couldn’t take any more of Sophie Turner’s blatant ignorance about a character she supposedly loves so much.  It was really some of her latest interview statements.  She’s on my shit list right now, which is sad because I know she could have been a great Sansa.  It’s going on seven seasons and she’s can’t even be bothered to glance at cliff notes version of the source material.  Yes, it’s petty.  I’ve been called worse things.  I’ll own that.  Maybe one day me and ST will be on speaking terms again, but today is not that day!    

discording  asked:

If you're generating schedules from an Excel spreadsheet, then maybe you can release a template version for everyone to generate their own fantasy schedules. Or, you can teach us how to use all the formulas you used for generating those schedules. What do you think?

I’m not too keen on releasing a template, mostly cuz I don’t want people making fakes where they put ttg everywhere and go OMG YOU GUYS TTG HAS A SEVEN DAY MARATHON

people would easily believe that

tbh when I started all I did was use a really basic color scheme and the default Excel font and look