i want them to play this summer

anonymous asked:

Ok, so date HC: what if yuuri and victor went on a little picnic on a warm, summer evening and then when it got darker victor brought a little stereo to play some music and they just slow dance while lightning bugs are just gently glowing around them?? And they start to get giggly while slow dancing and fall into the blanket and star gaze while comparing each other to stars and beautiful things and nature??And they just lay there, all cuddly and warm and happy? (I just want them to be happy omg)

YES PLEASE

-Kinetic Abilities Prompt List B Edition

Benzinakinesis - Control Gases

  • Literally, if you take one step closer I’m filling your side of the room with helium.
  • Sadly, your parents perished in a freak hot air balloon accident. I have no idea what happened.
  • Popping all those lightbulbs by expanding th egass in them looked pretty sweet but now there’s glass everywhere…

Bibliokinesis - Control Books

  • I don’t know how you somehow got into my mega-library, but you’re not getting any of these books back. They belong to me now.
  • You may have flight but I can sit on this Britannica and get where I’m going just fine.
  • There’s a reason why there’s a demand for movies to be made into books. You’re looking at them.

Biokinesis - Control Bodies

  • Nothing says professional cryptid like camouflage, mutations, and death on demand. 
  • It’s like playing an Operation game whenever I try to help somebody. There’s no buzzer though, just them screaming when I accidentally rip a tendon.
  • Sometimes, you just want to make your shitty neighbor into a rat. 

Bio-thermokinesis - Control Body temperature

  • I can’t exactly make a trip to Antarctica feel like summer vacation, but I can make it more tolerable. 
  • No thermal cameras can ever see me. But maybe I should knock out the regular cameras too…
  • Giving someone hyperthermia in a room of ice is torture enough. Have them drown themselves to quench their thirst? Dastardly.

Blennokinesis - Control Filth

  • Don’t think for one minute I wan’t bring back the black death. That’s how serious I’m being.
  • When I removed all the polution, I didn’t think people would be so eagar to make more.
  • This blu cheese is barely aged. Let me spread this mold a little more and it’ll be fit for the party.

Botanokinesis - Control plants

  • The grass are all individuals who get as much voice as trees do. I’m drowning in voices and opinions. I need to make them quiet. 
  • That’s it. I’m making it so any thrown away plant matter gets to people who need it. No more of this ‘not enough’ stuff.
  • My best friend might be a potted plant, but at least they aren’t judgemental like you are.

Brontekinesis - Control thunder

  • I’ll vibrate you so hard your organs burst and don’t even think for one second I’m bluffing.
  • No, I don’t have electricity powers. Isn’t the sound wave part cool enough for you? 
  • I made all my minions deaf before you even arrived. I wanted them to have the upper hand when I make you deaf too.

I was born and raised in Kentucky, near the foothills of appalachia. I could drive twenty minutes in any direction and find myself square in the middle of abject poverty. Every spring, winter-hardened homeless men reappear to beg for change by the end of most interstate off-ramps.

The people here don’t love me. I’ve been glared out of nearly any kind of establishment you can think of. The south is a place where there are crosses in sight nearly everywhere you go and Mitch McConnell has been voted repeatedly back into office since 1984. They play country music in the Dairy Queen and everyone has a Ford pickup (“because they’re made in the USA!”). It’s a place where speaking in tongues isn’t crazy but being transgender sure is.

Everyone I know wants to leave. They set their sights on Colorado, California, Washington, Oregon. Out in the west where everything is bigger, more open, more open-minded. A place where they might feel safe.

But Kentucky is my home. I love it from deep within my bones. The hills nestle you into them, lovingly, nurturing. In the summer, the air presses into your lungs like it has something burning to say. The forests here are more alive than any other place I have seen; the cicadas sing nonstop and the greenery is so lush that it holds you. A teacher once dubbed it “the sacred yoni” and I have since longed for nothing but mother earth’s embrace. I feel her magic everywhere.

Y'all. I can’t leave. I love these people the way you can only love the people where you come from. I love all of the brave queer kids and the scared queer adults and everyone in between. I love the homeless men begging for the kind of change that you can’t pull out of a wallet. I love the hills and the rivers and the trees.

Someone has to stay. Someone has to make it a better place.

So my mom told me there were cinnamon rolls in the kitchen, and my first thought was to make this. They’re one big reluctant family of cinnamon rolls as far as I’m concerned and I miss them </3

Essays in Existentialism: Blind III

Could you do more blind!Lexa? part 3 Please? YAY? c: c: c: you’re awesome !

Previously on Blind

Deep into the springtime of the city, the rain tapped against window while the dog snored on his pillow. It was a quiet kind of Tuesday in the history wing of the old Fisher building, and the professor graciously accepted the reprieve before the onslaught of finals commenced. 

Keep reading

Love is... a concerto in A Major - K622

By: @thegirlfromoverthepond

My deepest thanks to @titaniasfics for her help in betaing this story :) thank you so much, lady :)

the awesome art is done by the so gifted @akai-echo.

She comes every Friday afternoon, taking the girl with curly hair to her flute lesson.

Every Friday I watch as she passes before the windows of my class, talking to her daughter, laughing.

One day in September, I heard her laughter through the now-open windows, and I swear, i’ve never heard music so pure.

I know it’s pitiful. I know that i shouldn’t be completely infatuated with the mother of one of the kids we teach to, but I can’t help it.

Her husband is the luckiest man alive.

Keep reading

High Tensions - Twelve

Are you guys all as frustrated as Spencer and Y/N are?

What the hell was that smell?

Wait…what the hell was that beeping noise?

Shit. 

Smoke detector. 

You leapt out of bed and grabbed your dressing gown from the back of the door, running into the kitchen. 

“I’ve got it….. I’VE GOT IT!”

A load sizzling noise came from the kitchen area and you followed the noise and the smell to find Spencer stood over your sink, wafting smoke out of the window.  

The basin was full of water, a frying pan handle sticking out and your counters were covered in an array of jugs, utensils and flour and eggs. 

“What are you doing?” The place was a mess and you were annoyed. No doubt you’d have to clean it up. 

“Erm…. I was trying to make you pancakes.” You could tell he’d caught the annoyance in your voice and you remembered how much of a bitch you could be when you were rudely awoken. 

“Pancakes?” All of the annoyance melted from you and you crossed the room to stand next to him. 

“Well yeah. I thought I could bring you breakfast in bed. But it’s not going too well.”

He looked so adorable stood there, the sleeves of his cardigan rolled up, hair still mussed up from sleeping and a patch of flour on his cheek. 

You leant forward, linking your arms around his neck and tiptoing up, giving him a peck on the cheek. He caught you, circling your waist with his own long arms and pulling you close. 

“You didn’t have to make me breakfast Spencer,” you breathed into his hair, his embrace on you tight. 

“Well it’s kinda a good job you’ve said that, cos I literally have nothing to offer you food wise. I have an IQ of 187, you’d think I’d be able to prepare pancakes.”

“Well it’s a good job you’re better at other things then isn’t it?” You really didn’t want to let go. He was so warm and cuddly. 

“Such as?”

“I think you know what Spencer.” It amazed you how quickly you could both slip from being sweet and innocent with each other to heading quickly to the gutter. You pulled away from his embrace. 

“Technically that wasn’t me.”

“Oh hush. You were the one guiding it and moving it and oh…. I’m gonna stop thinking about it now. Also, what are we doing with that thing anyway. Do I get to keep it?”

“Yep…. I figured that it might get used again once we actually do it.”

“And when will that be Spencer?”

He considering your question for a moment. 

 "Soon. I don’t think I can last much longer.“

“You know what we need to do. We need to find out who has what dates in the little pool Derek is running and then just both admit defeat on the date that no one has.”

“I can definitely work with that Y/N.”

“Awesome. I’ll bribe Penny later with tidbits of last night and get her to show me.”

“Last night?” His eye brows shot up. 

“Okay, maybe not last night. Maybe I’ll just show her the photo I sent you.” Yeah it probably wasn’t a good idea to tell Pen that he’d had you coming so hard you’d been certain you’d need a new mattress. 

“And here I hoped they were my eyes only,” he joked. 

“Haha, I’ll let you take some for your own personal enjoyment one day. Now let’s clean up and we can go out for breakfast.”

You both tidied the mess quickly before you headed off to your bedroom to grab a towel for a shower. You spotted the bullet on the floor where it must have rolled during the night and picked it up, grabbing your wet wipes and giving it a quick clean. 

Spencer tapped on your door. “Can I come in, my bag’s still in here.”

“Sure.”

He entered, stopping dead when he saw what you had in your hands. 

Giggling to yourself you mused, “It’s about time Ryan got a friend.”

Everyone on the team knew you’d named your rabbit. It had come out one drunken night and they’d thought it hilarious. 

You moved to your bedside cabinet, placing it inside the drawer. 

“I’m thinking I’ll name this one Pretty Boy.”

You wished you’d taken a photo of the expression on Reid’s face. Pure gold. 

Spencer couldn’t believe how well the night before had gone. He wasn’t sure she’d even agree to it to begin with, but when she’d taken his hand and led him to the bedroom he’d suddenly felt less sure of himself and incredibly nervous. 

He did his best not to show it, although when she’d stripped and allowed him to secure her wrists to her headboard he was sure he was going to lose it. Just the sight of her laid out before him. She was stunning, curves in all the right places and the photo she’d sent him earlier in the day, as hot as she’d looked in that; in reality she looked a hundred times better. 

The way she’d finished him off as well.

Fucking hell. Just…… Ugh. He couldn’t bear thinking about it. Something he’d never even considered before. He knew that sex toys weren’t just for female satisfaction but he’d never in a million years thought he’d have one used on him. But it had worked. And no rules had been broken. Technically they’d not had sex, not touched themselves or touched the other. He congratulated himself on the idea and wondered why he’d not thought of it before. 

Deep-down he knew the answer though. Now he’d seen how majestical she looked when came, he knew he was going to lose. Although what she’d suggested this morning about them both surrendering on the date no one had in the pool would also work. They just needed to get Penelope to tell them. And that could prove a problem. He’d leave that task to Y/N. 

They never made it to breakfast. Y/N’s cell had started ringing the second they’d set foot out of her apartment door; Hotch. They had a case. 

“But it’s a Sunday,” Spencer had whined. 

“I’ll put out a public service announcement shall I, asking unsubs to only act during the week?” Y/N had replied. 

The case took them out of play until late Friday night and as per their agreement, they suspended the game remaining completely professional around each other. 

The team were flying home late, having wanted to get home early rather spend another night in the hotel. Tomorrow night was the annual FBI summer ball, and last year the team had missed it due to being out in the field. In his seven years in the BAU Spencer had only managed to attend once, and this would be Y/N’s first. 

The team had booked rooms at the hotel the event was staged at, the FBI having an agreement with the venue that the rooms could be cancelled at short notice if any member of the Bureau couldn’t attend due to a case. Considering pretty much the whole of hotel was booked out for them, it wasn’t a problem. 

Spencer normally hated huge events like this, but he was actually looking forward to being able to attend this one, looking forward to seeing Y/N dressed up. 

She came and flopped down next to him on the jet. 

“Hey, so I’ve talked to Penny,” she was whispering to avoid the rest of the team hearing. JJ and Emily were both asleep but Hotch,  Derek and Rossi were all engrossed in files. 

“Okay. Did she give you the date?“ 

“Yes but it’s not good. Pretty much the whole of the building knows about this bet thanks to Derek and his mouth. Everyday for the next four months has a name by it. Although you’ll be pleased to know that people seem to be having more confidence in your ability to break me.”

“Four months. Four fucking months. Seriously?” He couldn’t wait that long. He was going to have to surrender. 

“Yup. Well….. One night had been free. Last Saturday." 

He placed his head in his hands in frustration. It would have been wouldn’t it?

"What do you wanna do?” she asked. 

He thought long and hard about his answer, before leaning his head close to her ear. 

“Truthfully? You, like so fucking badly.”

He detected a slight movement in her face as she processed what he’d said. 

Her voice was so quiet when she turned to him. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Because I am not opposed to joining the mile high club.”

He chuckled, “Yes and no. Give me this weekend. I still think I can get you to beg for me and to be honest, I really don’t want to lose but I can’t wait much longer Y/N.”

Glancing around quickly to make sure no one was looking he quickly licked a line up her neck, before murmuring into her ear.

“If you’ve not begged for me to fuck you by Sunday night, then you win. I’ll admit defeat and declare you Queen Tease”

She turned to him, staring him in the eyes.

“And then? What happens after I’m declared winner on Sunday night?" 

"Then I’ll take you home and make you come over and over again until you beg for me to stop. I will have you begging me, one way or another. ”

“So it’s a win win for me then? Queen Tease and a night full of coming onto your mouth?” Her forehead was touching his now, her breath warm on his face. 

“Yep.”

“Good. Don’t worry Spence. You might be the loser here, but I’ll make sure you get a pretty good consolidation prize." 

"Y/N, finally tasting you will be all the consolidation prize I need.” He honestly couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth when he was around her. She bought out the very best and yet the very worst in him.

Her breath hitched and she leaned in closer, their lips almost touching when a shadow fell over them and they heard a loud cough. 

“No kissing on the jet please.”

Hotch.

Spencer pulled away from Y/N quickly seeing the stern look on his bosses face. 

“Oh and Dr Reid, Agent Y/L/N. Before you even think about it, the mile high club is not all its cracked up to be. Trust me on this.”

Spencer turned took at Y/N, both of them understanding what he was implying and bursting into laughter. 

Mismatched

I have heterochromia.

My mom has it too, only hers is sectoral heterochromia. A part of her left eye is brown while most of it is blue. Mine’s complete. My right eye is brown, the left is blue. As a kid I’d get the most excited reaction out of the adults-

“His eyes are so beautiful!”

“Wow, they’re different colors!”

“How stunning!”

I’d like to say that my eyes are only one part of myself, that it’s just a slice of the pie that makes up me. But really, the only fascinating part of myself is the heterochromia. I’m average in grades. Height. Strength. IQ. Not much stunning charisma either- I tend to stick to myself.

But in the end, it’s my eyes that saved my life. And maybe the lives of a few others.

The killings started my sophomore year. A young couple going out to smooch in their car was found dead, mangled by some wild beast. Their faces had been eaten off, their tongues ripped out, and their eyes completely gone.

I didn’t know them, they went to the private school. All the same, the stories started up about the Gosbecks Knoll Beast.

Keep reading

eighteenish  asked:

I just saw a post that you reblogged that said all repaints are wonderful (true) except tree change dolls and honestly I don't know why??? Is there something wrong with tree change dolls that I'm not aware of??? I'm legit curious and confused here.

Let me start off by saying that this is a great ask. I had to really sit down and get my thoughts together to respond to this.

Let me start out by saying that I have nothing inherently against Tree Change Dolls. While they really aren’t my style (I love detailed face paint, glitter, and dramatic looks), I appreciate an artist’s freedom to create what they want, and what makes them happy. What I DO have an issue with, however, is the “makeunder” culture that she has created sensationalized and sends a message with, and the hostile environment with parents that she fosters with her work. By shaming Bratz dolls, she puts down girls that wear makeup, non-bland clothing, and colorful hair (and express their individuality through their fashion style), while pushing an ideal that defines femininity as looking identical by wearing the same drab outfits, plain faces, and plain hair. I grew up in a community that held that same ideal in high regards–it did not foster creativity, individuality, or free thinking. Girls were expected to be seen and not heard, dress from toe to head in skirts and long-sleeved shirts (even in the middle of summer), and never cut their hair. This is the ideal portrayal of femininity that she is pushing.

As for the loudest of the parents that support her and the makeunder movement, they are so quick to call dolls “sluts”, “whores”, and “skanks”. All for pieces of plastic having makeup painted on their faces, wearing jeans and miniskirts, and non-natural hair colors. If parents don’t want their kids playing with toys that have makeup, then they should stop buying them! Once again, I have known these types of people in real life, and they are an unpleasant as they seem.

So, in conclusion, I really can’t stand the toxic environment that she helps harbor by insisting that girls should be judged only by their appearances, and that girls should quietly assimilate with no sense of identity. Also, parents really shouldn’t push their own failings onto pieces of plastic. If anyone else has anything to add on, please feel free to do so.

Following

A/N: I didn’t like the other story I did for dear anon so here’s another take of it. Idk, maybe I’m just not good at jealous Lucifer, but oh god do I try. 

He seethes when he sees you with another man, the blood in his vessel practically boils. He knows the expression on your face, he knows each and every twitch of your muscles and how it defines you, how you feel without you needing to say it. The discontent look on your face as you take a sip of your whiskey, looking away from the man who was supposed to replace him. To replace him with such a filthy ape makes his fists clench, his jaw tighten, the ape could barely be classified as that with how poorly he treated you. One arm slung around your shoulders abruptly and the forced smile on your face, the tense shoulders that spoke volumes that he couldn’t see.

Not like Lucifer could.

He knew how you felt, why you left him and your reasons for doing so. You were prone to bouts of restlessness, fidgeting in your own skin like you couldn’t stand the body God had given you. You wandered across the Earth and for the first time since God, Lucifer had followed. It was foreign to him, but you were an entire enigma, you knew who he was - his goal, his hatred and you still smiled at him. He wondered if this was what Gabriel meant, but the ache of his brothers passing reminds him not to think of it.

“We were never a species meant to last long,” He hears your voice during the first few times he interacted with you. There was that urge to fly on broken wings, that fidgeting feeling just being around you, restlessness that kept his mind preoccupied for days. “There is good, but we will destroy ourselves before we save ourselves.”

He never tied you down much like he wanted to, keep you by his side until he figured out every single tick that made you, you. But that would take away from your nature that he desired to watch, you flowed like the rivers around the fires in his hell, avoiding his flames and washing over him. It was breathtaking as it was frustrating, he wanted to understand you but the more he knew the less he understood.

He wanted to wipe the planet of your kind, and you had left him afraid that you would keep him from his desires.

“Why,” He remembers asking the night you were leaving, the bitter tears and smile on your face that pained him.

“Even monsters deserve the chance to be loved.”

You had pressed a kiss to his cheek and left that night, left him standing in the old ruined cathedral where he had made a temporary home out of. A mockery, one that you had laughed and danced between the broken pews singing praises and prayers.

But you had been happy then, the smile on your face hadn’t been forced. He didn’t need to force it there, you had stood up and danced willingly, shaking all the tense muscles out to invisible music that he watched. Wondering just how strange and beautiful you could be, how it was even possible - how had his father made something as enigmatic and untouchable as you were to him?

He hadn’t wanted to burn you, to take away that light that burned so brightly inside of you. Even though every instinct he had told him to lock you away and keep you to himself, he knew that you wouldn’t be you if he did that. Not what fascinated him and confused him at the same time, so he let you walk and once you were far enough away he burned the cathedral down in his anger.

And then he followed you.

Flowers bloomed in your steps and each one he took behind you burned them all away. You traveled far, further than he thought you would have and you didn’t look back even when your shoulders hunched and you mouth covered your painful cries.

He had planned to wait until you returned to him willingly but he couldn’t stand to watch it. The perverse touches against you, the tight lipped smiles that graced your lips. The way you carefully shrugged his arm off your shoulders and pressed yourself further into the counter, making yourself less available to the man who couldn’t take a hint.

You knew spells, you could castrate the man with a snap of your fingers but you chose not to, simply gritting your teeth and sipping down the whiskey that burned your throat, if the way your eyes watered was any indication. Lucifer hadn’t taken you for a whiskey drinker, or one to drink at all and it only showed how much he still didn’t know you and how much he wanted to.

His restraint and patience all but shattered when he saw the hand slip onto your thigh, and before you could wave your hand and whisper the spell Lucifer had moved. One step forward and his wings carried him behind you, one hand gently on the small of your back while the other held the man’s in a vice grip. The heat and strength from his hand causing the man to give a startled yelp and cry, a beg to be let go but Lucifer was only smiling, tight lipped like you had been previously.

“I think you need to learn some manners, can’t you see her body language says no?”

He wanted to fight, and Lucifer was going to let him. The rage was pouring in his veins and the eerie red of his eyes began to bleed through his vessel, a haunting and demonic look fit to scare anyone straight.

“Sh’yours?” It comes out a slur, the wasted breath of the man making Lucifer wrinkle his nose in disgust, releasing the wrist he held and leaving behind a burn mark of it. A reminder, Lucifer tells himself as he waves away the putrid breath.

“Yes,” It comes out in a tone that bodes no argument. It’s not a demand, it’s a statement and he could feel the flutter of pride in his chest.

You were his.

“Shoulda kept her on a leesh,” He speaks again, slamming his drink down and throwing you a disgusted look. “Woman can’t keep her hands to herself.”

It was a lie, he knew it was one. He had watched and though you had agreed for some unfathomable reason to this date- this arrangement you hadn’t once done as he was lying about.

“Sinners go to hell you know,” His hand moves and press to the man’s forehead, and soon he’s screaming and crying for help. Patrons of the establishment scream and run, the walls shake and tremble and glass breaks and the body hits the ground, burnt and indistinguishable from what it once was.

There are hunters, fearful but willing as they take out their weapons and he’s still so angry. The hand on your thigh had him seeing red in more ways than one, and while you took another sip of your whiskey he released the frustration on the rest of those willing to fight him.

It was unfair, but it felt good to indulge in that senseless violence. His fist hitting their flesh and he could understand why your species liked to fight, to feel the bones breaking beneath his knuckles, the skin tearing and when he was done playing with them it was only a split second before they joined the other guy. Burned bodies crumpled onto the floor and burnt flesh that made your nose wrinkle in disgust as you downed the rest of your drink.

You’re quiet and Lucifer watches you carefully, there’s a small part of him that awaits some form of anger from you. No one, not even god liked the anger he possessed and it’s why he was cast out in the first place - the anger at humankind. But you set the glass down carefully avoiding the shards of broken glass from broken lights and mirrors, gently wiping a spot clean for you to rest your elbows onto the bar.

“Why are you here?” Your voice is quiet when you finally turn to look at him, and he can see the way your eyes burn with unshed tears and he takes a step closer but you hold your hand up, not wanting him to get closer. For once he doesn’t listen, moving close enough to lean down and press his forehead against the back of your neck while his hands snake around your waist gently.

“Lucifer,” You repeat yourself quietly and there’s a spark of possession in his veins, of demanding and taking but he shoves it all down. You would not be the same if he simply took, and you were the only thing God created that he can say he truly cared for.

Truly loved.

“I can’t let you go,” It’s barely a whisper, and there’s the underlying tone of won’t let you go unspoken on his lips as he closes his eyes. His forehead resting carefully against your neck, there’s only so much time before the place becomes bustling with activity at the destruction.

You move to stand and he reluctantly releases you, taking a step back and watching you carefully. Prepared to follow, but you’re staring at him and he can read you and opens his hand for you to take, and when you do the both of you are gone in a split second.

The soft sound of crickets and toads fill up the air when he gently sets you down onto the grass, and he could swear that flowers bloomed beneath your feet when you took off your shoes and held them in your hands. Swinging your arm with them as you began to walk across the meadow, directionless. He follows.

“I love you,” He freezes in his step, watching as you slow down until you’re standing still and looking up at the midnight sky. The cool summer breeze plays with the stray strands of your hair, the moon reflecting off of you like an ethereal and untouchable and unattainable being.

If he was the sun, hot, burning and unforgiving then you were the moon, beautiful and breathtaking while you guided people through the dark.

“But that’s why I left,” You sound broken and he wants to move closer but his feet are rooted to the spot, waiting to hear what you have to say needing to know. “What am I to the mighty fallen angel? The same human who he was cast down for hating, you have better things to do then entertain fantasies that will never come true, not really.”

You were human, a human witch. A hated between both humans and the supernatural, the delicate in-between. How could he love something that wasn’t either, but a mixture of things he hated combined? You breathe out a bitter laugh, your free hand moving up to press your palm against your eyes and wiping at them.

“Abaddon had come for a visit,” You turn to face him and his face sours at the name. What had abaddon wanted? “She is fit to be with you, not me. Knows exactly how to restore you to your throne and has every intention of doing so, dedication, ruthlessness.” You could be all those things if you had tried, but you would never stand toe to toe with abaddon, not in this life or the next.

“I was made clear of where I stood, and.. I understand it too.”

Where you stood? Abaddon would be lucky if she managed to get away alive once he found her.

“[Name],” He finally moves, unhinges his feet from the ground where they had remained bolted when you had turned to him with that heartbreaking look on your face. Bitter defeat but understanding and acceptance, and that frustrated him - he didn’t want you to give up so easily. But considering who had spoken to you, he didn’t doubt abaddon hadn’t given you a chance and probably wouldn’t have. He stands before you, his hands moving to your face to caress your cheeks carefully and there’s a small smile on his face.

There’s beauty and then there’s you. “Your place is beside me, and only me.”

The tears drip down and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, wrapping his arms around you gently as he attempts to soothe you. Your hesitant hands wrapping around him and it feels strangely right and fitting in a way he had never felt before.

“Let’s go home,” He murmurs against your hair, gently swaying the two of you back and forth but pulls back slightly to look at your face when you laugh.

“You burnt it down.”

“And I’ll burn down every other establishment that you leave, and anyone who comes too close, and-”

“And where’s home?”

“Anywhere you want.”

That raises an eyebrow from you.

“Anywhere?”

“I’m King,” He says his voice dark and you can see the red in his eyes. “And I’ll build a castle for the queen.”


Sparks Chapter 13

Originally posted by thespoilerwitchblog

Pairing: Bucky(POV) X Reader(POV) ft. other characters from the avengers team

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: Bucky and y/n go to a children’s birthday party! Bucky’s arm getting poked and prodded by little toddlers. 

A/N: This is a story about two people building a great friendship and then slowly falling in love. y/n is a strong, independent, and smart scientist. She meets Bucky when she wakes him up from cryo sleep and they become friends. This is going to have all the angst / best friends falling in love / fluff / drama / & eventual smut ;) that I can possibly fit in it. This fic is going to be looong! So far my document is like 40,000 words. So editing is hard If you catch any grammatical or formatting errors let me know.

Keep reading

Se Perspectives on Ne

SUBMITTED by truthaliar 

Se perspectives on Ne

I saw the recent posts on ENFPs and ESFPs, and thought I’d offer some Se-perspectives.

I’m an ISFP 7w8—though occasionally I entertain Se-dom.  I have a lot of xNFP friends from working in theatre, coffee shops, and wildlife hospitals. Somehow, we’re drawn to each other. I think it’s because I help my friends accomplish their ideas, and they in turn give me new ideas to try to accomplish. It’s kind of a symbiotic relationship.

I thought I’d give an example of two INFPs and two ENFPs, the way I see them, and the way they differ from each other within their personality type.

What does Se look like?

I work as a barista and a wildlife technician—more or less a field biologist with vet tech skills that works to rehabilitate and release injured wild animals—and want to go to veterinary school to study conservation medicine. I have a singular focus that is slightly dampened by a strong “I’m bored” streak. I’m halfway done with my Master’s now through sheer force of will. My entire university career has been a tug of war between Se—maybe I can just skip school for a week drive to the coast and go surfing instead of studying—and Ni/Te—let’s take all of the vet school pre-requisites this semester so I can try to get in without taking a gap year.

I didn’t think I had a mind for biology—though now, at 25, I’m a year shy of graduating with my M.S. in integrated wildlife biology. I’m utterly Fi-driven. In my spare time I play soccer, rock climb, surf in the summer, and play ice hockey in the winter. I still play guitar, but I don’t really like performing for an audience. Also, as a kid I’d occasionally pick fights or intervene in them. I was–and still am–more rough around the edges than I was ‘proper’. [Also, I’m not all that into fashion. T-shirt & jeans > fancy clothes.]

Additionally, High Se is not necessarily external objective precision. Applied, it is more like constant motion. I’m very restless all of the time. Routine is a foreign concept to me. When I want to do things, I do things. I move from place to place and figure it out as I go. I’m a time-management nightmare. I’m so disorganized with things. But when I commit to something, I’m all in. I sometimes spontaneously make really important life altering decisions. And it’s the spontaneity or opportunism of the choices that I’ve made that I use to define Se. I don’t think twice. Life happens. You have to move with it.

How does that compare to NFPs?

My INFP cousin is obsessed with ice hockey. It could even look Ni. He literally chose his school based on whether or not he’d be able to play hockey his freshman year. But he doesn’t want to be a professional hockey player. No, he wants to be a film maker—or a masseuse. But he’s studying engineering design. And he certainly doesn’t use Se. He’s more content to sleep all day and stay up all night on his phone. He doesn’t engage in his environment unless other people encourage him to.

His Ne-Si constantly interact; he’s often entirely stuck in his head with possibly thousands of ideas – but he needs somebody to push him to actually do something. He’s not a healthy INFP, and often needs guidance in decision making to an extreme degree (consulting the youngest [ESTP] and I for advice on what to wear to family dinners; what to do with his life) and occasionally seems discouraged that both the youngest and myself appear to have direction—while he still falters.

In contrast…

My INFP friend, who currently works in urban farming, also wavers. She’s definitely the healthiest INFP I know—and possibly the most stereotypical. After she finished undergrad, she went into environmental education. And then she went into being a barista. And then she tried fisheries science. She really wants to do biology, but her Fi-Si seem to be interacting in a way that makes her pause before jumping into graduate school. Like me, she’s afraid of being stuck in an office all day—but is afraid that somehow, specialization in a field will backfire and entrap her. There are a lot of possibilities for her to explore and she has told me she wants to try and explore all of them before committing to a Master’s program. Like me, she seems to be on the social cusp of introversion and extroversion; but she regards herself as more chatty, and me as more skeptical and hesitant—and almost distrusting—with strangers. Despite her outward warmth I don’t believe she uses Fe; she’s particularly focused on herself and interests—she just can’t decide on which one to pursue.

ENFPs

I tell them apart from the INFPs by their tertiary-Te. Damn. The collective strength of their tertiary-Te is also why I back away from categorizing myself as an ESFP. Whatever they have – I don’t have it.

The actress eventually wants to move to NYC to pursue her dreams, but first is working on paying off her student loans and getting herself established. She loves word play, and is probably hands down the most talkative person I know. If you don’t interrupt her, she will just keep talking. Sometimes about herself. Sometimes about the similarities between Monty Python, something from four years ago, and Hamilton. And she’ll keep going. Textbook.

In contrast…

My friend the vet tech is not really like this. We worked together most recently and underwent similar scrutiny at our job. I loved what I did, but Fi came first for me. And when my job security started to feel threatened—I spontaneously resigned. [I’m still a wildlife tech, just not there.] My friend didn’t leave that job until she was removed from it. I think through her dom-Ne—she was very perceptive of ways that things could still work out, as well as other opportunities. She fought to keep it. It didn’t work.

She is onto other things now, but again, she doesn’t have Ni. She’s not exactly actively pursuing one way to change this. She’s interested in macabre sort of arts, and is interested in the external world—to a degree. She cannot imagine going back to school because it’s not the kind of learning she likes. Our interests overlap again in psychedelic culture and music.

Lastly
To add to the picture – I find this stuff interesting, but writing this was boring. It took me hours. I took a break in between to go get coffee; then I learned my puppy had jumped out a window and put a hole in the screen to chase after me and had to collect him from my neighbors house. Day in the life.

I think Ne and Se can really complement each other. I love that my closest friends have these visions; we build each other up. Their Si is different than Se and they often help me consider important realities that I may not have though of before–something I think is not often said enough about Ne-users. Many of the people I’ve mentioned think I’m a bit reckless and spontaneous, and certainly opportunistic – but they confide in me and we get along great. So if you’re trying to tell the difference:

- High-Ne wanders, and may be restricted by lower-Si in committing to a certain job, career path, or approach
- Se also wanders – but less with words and more in action. When it finds what it likes, it doesn’t really quit.
- Tert-Si users will be more atuned to certain details than Se-dom and aux users
- Both Se and Ne can be interested in different artsy subjects and excel at them – and both can get bored easily
- Se may present itself as more skeptical than Ne in certain situations because it is ‘reading’
- Don’t bother using level of socialness or party attendance records to define Ne or Se… I find parties boring. Some of my high-Ne friends love them.

Kaoru's candid thoughts on the collaboration with their crucial rival

2017.02.17 Tokyo Sports Web interview, original here

Kaoru (age undisclosed), the leader of the popular visual rock band DIR EN GREY, and Joe Yokomizo (48), a senior writer for Rolling Stone Japan and popular radio DJ, held a talk event yesterday in Tokyo (02/11). With the beginning of the new year we were surprised with big news about ANDROGYNOS, the joint project with their “rival” band PIERROT, but in this interview Kaoru reveals his thoughts [on this project].

- It’s unusual for artists to hold this type of talk events.

Kaoru - Already in the past I felt that if I read an interview or listen to the talk on the radio with the artist I like, I can understand the music they make better. Some things are scary to put into words, but I felt like now is a good timing for a talk event so I tried it.

- Yet there is a chance of destroying the artist’s image through it.

Kaoru - If I did a talk even when I was younger, it probably wouldn’t go well, I thought [things like that] were pain in the butt. I think it was done at a good time. There’s this thing that I’ve been in a band for 20 years, so I have some kind of confidence about [band activities]. Normally, you can know the band better when you know what artists are thinking, if you see their shows your connection becomes deeper. With us standing on the stage being ourselves and having our originality at the concerts, it’s interesting to see how those efforts work in various ways and spread.

- What’s the meaning behind “Tora no ana / Tiger’s Hole”?

Kaoru - When I was a high school student I liked metal music quite a lot, I would lend an album to a classmate saying “this band is great!”, I was spreading things around. Because of that it got to the point when everyone was saying “If he catches you you will become a metal fan. He’s a tiger’s hole of heavy metal!” (laughing). I used that for the title. I was told by the classmate from that time “I didn’t think you will end up like that”.
(tora no ana is used in a meaning of “a place of rigorous training” - means Kaoru acted as a strict trainer in the art of metal knowledge ;))

- There was an announcement about your project ANDROGYNOS and concerts in July at Yokohama Arena, done with PIERROT.

Kaoru - Since everything was already revealed, I don’t have more to add… Well, we’re planning to “go with full power on”. Since we have the advantage of continuously playing as a band, of course there’s a feeling that we shouldn’t loose, but on the other side they (PIERROT, which stopped activities in 2006 and is restarting activities now) have this “power” of fans who were waiting all this time.

- Formerly they were considered your rivals.

Kaoru - We didn’t really have any contact, we were playing at the same venues, so they were a worrying presence. We are a totally different bands, so I’m looking forward what will happen this summer.

- In the past your respective fans gathered at Jingu Bridge and it is said it was an explosive situation.
(the famous bridge in Harajuku that used to be mecca of visual kei)

Kaoru - Yeah, it seems so. I didn’t know about it at the time. Well, from now on I want to go against their expectations in a good way. I don’t want them to say “their songs are okay, but concerts are boring”. I want be be kept being told “I can’t take my eyes away of this band”.

PSA for pet parents in the North East US

I’m sure you’ve noticed an increase in the tick population. The population of Lyme-carrying mice is a prime indicator of how large the tick population will be the following year. And in 2016, there was basically a mice plague in the Northeast. I pulled twenty (20) off of Barkley today, mostly before they bit. But it’s just awful out here.

Steps you can take to keep you and your baby healthy:

Protect your yard:

  • Keep grass short. Mowing sucks, but it helps.
  • Consider chickens if you can. They love ticks. Good riddance.
  • Ticks also don’t care for mulch barriers or gravel paths, things like that. If you were thinking of installing anything like that, think no more.
  • There are also environmentally friendly sprays.

Protect your pet:

  • Comb your pet with a flea comb, and don’t forget to check places like the armpits, belly, and under those floppy ears. (I found one in his ear, poor thing.)
  • Seresto collars are my personal recommendation, but Frontline, etc, will work, too.
  • Citrus juice is said to repel ticks, but don’t use citrus oils because it has the chemicals in the rind which are toxic to critters.
  • Do not feed your dog garlic as a preventative measure. Garlic is toxic to dogs.
  • Don’t rub oils on your cat, because they’ll ingest them. And avoid all products with permethrin for kitty, too.
  • Vaccinate your pets. You can get them a Lyme vaccine.

Protect yourself:

  • Wear long pants and shirts, weather or activity permitting.
  • Shower very soon after being anywhere ticks may live, such as grassy fields or especially the woods. Perform a self check for ticks along your hair line, around your ears, in your armpits, behind your knees, along the panty lines, etc. Use it as an excuse to get intimate. Ask your partner to check you for ticks.
  • Use bug repelling spray.
  • Wear light clothes so you can see hem crawling up your pants.

Help! I’ve been bitten by a tick!

  • Don’t panic. It’s not a big deal. It’s gross, okay, yeah, but it’s not urgent. You need to be careful when you remove it, so take it slow. You’re going to live.
  • Don’t burn it. Accidents happen.
  • Using your fingers, but preferably a pair of tweezers, grasp the tick gently but firmly, as close to your skin as you can. You don’t want to squish the tick. Tug with steady pressure, so the tick remains intact AND you get it’s head. If the head detaches from the body, you might still get sick because it’s still embedded in your skin. Have someone help you get it out if this happens.
  • Now that you have the tick, kill it in a bath of alcohol and put it in a zip lock. This way, if you do feel yourself getting ill or develop any odd rashes, you can take the tick to your doctor and have it tested for Lyme.
  • The tick needs to be embedded for 24 hours or more to actually have any chance of passing on a disease, but it never hurts to be careful if you aren’t sure.

Just be careful out there, guys. Know your pet’s penchants out there in the wild back yard, and pay attention if they go in woods or grasses, or even if they play in water fixtures. Ticks like still water, like mosquitoes. Hikers especially beware. Have a safe summer!

Creepypasta #1032: Jenny Martin

Length: Long

When I was younger, about eight, I think, Jenny Martin from down the road would come babysit me. 

For the most part, Jenny was a really great babysitter. It was during the summer, when my parents had to work, so she and I would spend the whole day together. From memory, she was really tall, but that could be because everyone is tall when you’re eight. She had brown hair, brown eyes and freckles. I think she was fifteen or sixteen. Jenny always loved doing the things I loved doing. She would play Barbies with me, and finger paint and give me a cookie at lunch. Sometimes we’d walk to the park and have a picnic lunch. She was really great.

I think my parents would come home at 4:30, because she always left, just before dinner. And my mom and dad would ask how my day was, and I would hop around and tell them all the fun I’ve had. Those summer days were great. But then, school started. My parents wanted the occasional date night, sometimes worked longer hours, etc. So Jenny would come over after school, and stay really late.

The first few nights were fine. We had things like chicken nuggets or Mac ’n’ Cheese, or hot dogs for dinner. One night, that I remember really clearly though, we had chicken breast. My mom had left a recipe and all the spices on the counter, but I remember Jenny didn’t touch a single one. And when dinner was served, sitting beside some raw veggies, was an equally raw piece of chicken. I remember being really confused and pointed out to Jenny that I didn’t think it was cooked right. And she said,

“Raw is a delicacy. Eat up.” I didn’t know what delicacy meant, but it sounded fancy, and I trusted her, so I ate the meat. Jenny did too; she tore into it like it a starving dog, and blood dripped off her fingers, and fat smeared her mouth. She licked her lips and sucked her fingers before cleaning up.

Since I was eight years old, I naturally had a bedtime, which my mom tells me was 7:30. So at 7:25, Jenny would help me brush my teeth and get into my PJs and read me a bedtime story, before tucking me in.

I always fell asleep rather quickly; I think most little kids do. And since I didn’t have a clock in my room, I have no idea how long it was before I woke up to strange sounds coming from the downstairs. If I had been any older I would have investigated. But my eight-year-old self would hunker under the blankets and squeeze her eyes shut, trying desperately to ignore the faint gurgling and scratching coming from the living room.

The next morning, I’d tell my parents there were funny sounds from downstairs and they told me Jenny heard them too. Apparently, the water heater needed a new pipe or something. I don’t remember exactly the story Jenny told them, but I bought it.

I’m pretty sure I was an accident. Now that I’m older, I’ve heard stories of how neither of my parents wanted kids, and a drunk Uncle Finn told me that I was conceived in the bushes of a Van Halen concert. My parents were pretty good parents - are pretty good parents, but even as a kid, I could tell they didn’t like having me tag along. So the nights with Jenny slowly became more frequent as they trusted her more and more.

About a month after the water heater story, I decided to see if it really was the water heater. Like usual, I brushed my teeth, changed, read a story and went to bed. And like usual, I woke up who-knows-how-much later to weird noises. I grabbed the flashlight I had previously stashed under my pillow (I would need it for the basement) and slowly crept from my bed. I creaked open my bedroom door, and made my way towards the sounds. I remember being confused, because the gurgling seemed to be coming from the living room – where Jenny was, and not the basement which was in a different direction. I reasoned the sounds must be coming from a vent or something.

I turned off the flashlight because I didn’t want Jenny to catch me snooping around, and besides, the TV light was plenty to see by. The noises were really loud in the living room. I slowly peeked my head around the corner of the door way. Jenny sat on the couch, with her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her knees and her hair falling over her downward-tilted face. She wasn’t even facing the TV. She was facing me.

Keep reading

3
Camp Camp Summer Line by Christine B. (@ah-gavino)

It’s almost time for summer campers! 

This was just a little project I had been working on for a little while, and I wanted to share it! By no way am I a designer or an expert in photoshop, but I had this small idea of redesigning some cute outfits in an RT style! (I have some RWBY, Lets Play, and general RT outfits planned..) Hope you guys enjoy them! 

Keep reading

Playchoices Struggles

● Diamonds Scenes

● Bitchy Characters

● Btw why Bitch characters hotter than our actual love interests?

● WHY NON HUMAN/SUPERNATURAL CREATURES HOTTER THAN OUR LOVE INTERESTS?

● Diamonds

● Yikes,,,, Good Boy™ and our so called -forced- romance

● Everybody loves Good Boy™, ok i got it

● AND YES BITCH CHARACTER IS HIS EX/POTENTIAL EX

● Girl, I wanna make out with hot Bitch character not with Good Boi

● You have a thing for good bois, right pixelberry

● Look I love them……. as friends.

● STuDy TiMe: you have 25 Diamonds first and you get one (1) for every chapter u complete so let’s see;

Love Hacks: 11 Chapters (11 Diamonds)

The Freshman Book 1 / 2 / 3: 17 + 15 + 11 = 43 Chapter (43 Diamonds)

The crown and the flame 1 and 2: 18 + 16 = 34 Chapters (34 Diamonds)

Brainwood Manor: 6 Chapters (6 Diamonds)

Rules of Engagement ½: 19 + 8 = 27

Most Wanted: 15 Chapters (15 diamonds)

And you get from other stories (little specials): 6 diamonds

Endless Summer: 14


Total: 138

You need 20 Diamonds for a chapter and, let’s say you play Endless summer;

138 ÷ 20 = 6.9 so not equal but 7 chapter or something

Endless summer has 14 chapter

So you need to play 138 chapter for 7 chapter

The other 7?

Fuck u, u peasant. Who cares?????

● Secondary Characters and their story more interesting than mc and our story

● Why all ppl ships Good Boy™ x Mc

● No no no stop

● For the name of the Allah, I’ll give you taste of my shoe

● I want to stay single what the fuck

● Oh noes all the drama

● I’m so sick

● And I usually love drama- NO I LIVE FOR THE DRAMA

● But not love drama

● I’m an ace Pixelberry, have mercy

● Did I say Diamonds? Because I’m broke af

#ChoicesCreates Carnival

This is a fandom activity I’ve been thinking about the past weeks. There’s so much creativity in the fandom from fan fic to artwork. There’s also a lot of *potential* creativity - comments from those who want to start writing/drawing but don’t know how to start or are mustering up the confidence to share their work. So with that, I thought about putting a weekly creativity carnival together inspired by our favorite game.

What is the #ChoicesCreates Carnival?
It’s a weekly challenge where a prompt is given to the fandom, and you have free reign to create what you want based on the prompt – a short story, illustrations, a comic strip, a poem, etc. The creative choice is yours.

What is a prompt and what are examples of prompts?
A prompt is a thoughtstarter for your work. It can be the topic the work is based on, or mandatory part of the work (see last example). :
“Your favorite ship is stuck in the rain during a hike, forcing them to play a game of “Never Have I Ever” that gives way to some surprising revelations about each other.“
“An Endless Summer character’s favorite childhood memory.”
Incorporate this line in your artwork/writing: “It was snowing when she left me.”

Who chooses and announces the prompts?
I will choose and announce the prompts in collaboration with the Carnival Host (see more details below), but everyone is welcome to submit a prompt via my Ask box. Please specify that it’s for the #ChoicesCreates carnival.

Where do I publish my work?
On your own blog, with the tag #ChoicesCreates.

How long do I have to create my work?
5 days. The prompt goes up every Monday 4pm Central Time (CT). Deadline to publish your work on your blog is Sunday, 4 pm Central Time. This gives the Carnival Host time to track the entries. Why track? See next question.

Why is it called a Carnival?
When the Carnival Host has collected all the entries, they will publish a list of ALL that week’s carnival submissions in one entry. This way, we see all the creative work inspired by that single prompt. 😊 The list will be published by Monday, 4 pm CST, also when the new prompt and next Carnival Host will be announced.

Think of the #ChoicesCreates Carnival as going from one ride to another, one booth to another. You’ll have different creative experiences even if the theme for that week is the same.

Can the Carnival Host change?
Yes! I’ll manage the first few rounds but will definitely have others host it. If you’d like to host a carnival, do let me know. I do request that the Carnival Hosts be diligent with the tracking and the publishing of the final list. 😉

Why should I host?
It’s a great way to take care of and celebrate the creativity within the community! Plus, if you’d like more folks to connect with you, hosting is a great way to do it.

Any rules with what we publish for the carnival?
The creative freedom is yours. So far I can only think of 5 guidelines:
If you are submitting fanfic, label it accordingly (T, M, MA).
If there are triggers, indicate it in your introduction.
This is only for tumblr blogs.
All stories should be Choices-related.
Tag work with #ChoicesCreates so your submission for the week can be tracked.

I’m so excited! When do we begin?
Let’s wait for feedback first! I’d like to know what you guys think of this fandom activity. 😊 Suggestions are welcome. I’m looking forward to hearing from you.

*excited*