LOIS: Look, Clark, I know that I got a little thorny when you raised the red flag on A.C. CLARK: I was just trying to look out for you. LOIS: And I appreciate it. I’ve just never had someone to help guide me through the shark-infested ocean of romance. … Not that I can’t fend for myself. CLARK: You know, I think I was wrong about our friend A.C.
Some of the stuff @neshtasplace wrote about her orruks got me thinkin’.
Orks are, to a one, sexless fungus. That we call them/they call themselves ‘boyz’ is strictly arbitrary. There’s no reason any given ork wouldn’t be as likely to pick one gender as another. There’s no reason ‘Warboss Grimtoof Elfsmasher’ can’t be a perfectly orky name for a boy, or a gal, or something else even.
If you need an excuse, though, any ork group that got its ass kicked by an army that was led by or predominantly composed of women could easily start calling themselves galz.
They would still look like orks, as the already low humanoid dimorphism is even lower when you’re talking about people in armor. So no orks with boobs (or even ‘boobz’). Depending on the society, I could see the orks deciding that ‘galz’ have long/braided hair or some other arbitrary tertiary characteristic. So they’d start growing a bit of head hair, since orks run on magical thinking and solipsism.
Orks who got their asses kicked by howling banshees decide:
Galz have long, flowing, wild hair
LOUD WUNZ RUN FASTA
Orks who got their asses kicked by sylvaneth decide:
Galz have leaves on ‘em
Galz wear lotsa bark for armor
Orks who got their asses kicked by wyches decide:
Galz don’t need armor, galz need knifes
So many knifes
Orks who got their asses kicked by sisters of battle decide:
Galz is ded ‘ard: armor up
Faith? OH! ‘Umie solipsism, I gets it. “FOR DA GORK! (Or possibly Mork)”
Mini fic of fluff leading up to Maggie and Alex's cuddling??!?!??
They know they’ll fall asleep.
These days, Alex has trouble falling asleep in bed. Unless it’s in Maggie’s arms, immediately after being thoroughly fucked. But tonight? Tonight’s a cuddle night.
So they know when they fall asleep, it’ll be on the couch.
It has been lately.
Since the white Martian infiltrated her brain.
Since… since Jeremiah.
And Maggie’s been having her own difficulties.
Her own traumas.
With her own set of memories that Valentine’s Day stirred up.
With her own set of memories, of terrors, of the bar full of her friends’ bodies, of wounds that haven’t even gotten the chance to scar yet, that Cadmus’s latest attacks stirred up.
That Alex nearly being launched across the galaxy, being held at gunpoint, conjured.
Maggie doesn’t like to talk.
But Alex knows.
Alex knows, and she makes her dinner and she pours her scotch even though Maggie’s insisted she doesn’t need to keep any in the house – and she surprises herself, because she’s not even tempted to have any for herself – and she pops popcorn, allegedly just for Maggie (I don’t know how you eat it with just coconut oil and sea salt, it’s gross, Sawyer and Doesn’t stop you from stealing it out of my bowl, Danvers and Any excuse to be closer to you, babe and Get over here, woman, you never need an excuse to be closer to me).
Alex melts when Maggie moans happily with her eyes closed at the pasta Alex made, because unless Maggie’s cooking for someone else – namely, Alex and Kara and Adrian – she never bothers being much more than utilitarian with her food. (Tiramisu doesn’t count. It has its own category, Danvers.)
And Maggie melts when Alex gets out the pillows and the blankets and refuses to let Maggie get up to put her dishes in the sink, because you work so hard all day, Sawyer, let me take care of you for once, and Alex’s top is lacey and low cut and Maggie watches her move, listens to her hum to herself, watches her smile over her shoulder because Alex knows – she always knows – that Maggie’s eyes are glued to her body, to her bare skin and to her collection of bruises, and she almost swoons.
She would claim almost, anyway.
But Maggie knows the truth: that her gaze doesn’t make Alex almost anything.
She full-out swoons, and Maggie settles back into the couch and waits eagerly for Alex to return, because she has never felt quite this domestic, quite this safe, quite this… home.
“Thank you, Ally,” she says softly as Alex sits back down and throws out her arm and puts Maggie’s favorite pillow onto her own lap, inviting Maggie to lay down on her.
For dinner. For giving me scotch but not drinking any yourself. For that top with that lace and for that smile and for letting me lay in your lap and letting me put on Doctor Who episodes that you didn’t love but I did as we fall asleep and for putting the dishes away and for knowing, just knowing, that I’m spending the night, for pulling the blanket over my legs but not my torso because you know how claustrophobic I can get if the blanket is up too high, for putting your arm on my waist and making me feel safe, for making me feel wanted and making me feel loved. So, so, so loved.
“For you, Danvers. For you.”
Alex tilts her head – a habit she’s quickly acquiring from her girlfriend – and tilts her mouth to one side.
Maggie does – eagerly – and when their lips meet, it’s fire under a waterfall and it’s stars exploding in the vacuum of space and it’s lethal hands turning tender and strong hearts being vulnerable and soft lips on tossed-back necks and low moans growing louder and unspoken love transporting on hitched breath and passionate sighs and whispered names.
“You knocked my pillow on the floor, Danvers,” Maggie teases, her voice several octaves lower than normal, when they part for breath, their foreheads pressed together, their arms around each other, their legs somehow, now, entwined.
“Oh, it’s your pillow, is it?”
Maggie freezes and Alex realizes her mistake, and she takes Maggie’s face into gentle hands and strokes her hair and kisses her nose.
“I love that you’re at home here. I want… I want you to be. Hell, Mags, you can have all the pillows in the universe if it means you sleep in my arms more often.”
Maggie swallows tears and Alex bites her lip, because maybe it was too much, maybe –
“I don’t want all the pillows in the universe, Alex. Only the ones that keep me here.”
They both lean down for the pillow at the same time, with the same smile, with the same hope and the same fear and the same love, love, love.
And the promptly knock their heads together.
They laugh and they take turns spluttering apologies and kissing each other’s foreheads and eventually – somehow – Maggie makes sure a pillow is behind Alex’s head (she always forgets), and Alex resets Maggie’s pillow on her lap, and Maggie lays back down, and Alex puts the blanket back on her, and Alex sighs, and Maggie sighs, and Alex plays with her hair and holds her safe, holds her close, holds her perfect.
And if they both breath soft I love yous when their eyes are dragging and they’re drifting into a more peaceful sleep than either of them have ever gotten on their own, the air between them holds their most cherished, most exciting, most terrifying, most beautiful secret.
Until they’re ready to speak the obvious into existence in the full awareness of day and not just the soft glow of sleepy perfection on the couch at midnight.
alternative title: I Can’t Believe My First Proper Contribution To A Fandom After So Many Years Is Fucking Disney Headcanons
also, this got really out of hand. still.. enjoy?
- Belle doesn’t
want to have children for another ten years, and that makes everyone, literally
everyone in the village Upset™ (bc nothing, even a thought goes unnoticed in a
village, apparently) [okay, her father isn’t upset, but he doesn’t really get it either]
- Adam does want to have children, but he
understands Belle and respects her wish – he thinks she’ll make a marvellous
mother (he’s seen her plenty around children) once she’s ready
- and besides,
he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to give his children all the love he wants to give them; he’s
not afraid of turning into his father anymore, now that he has Belle, but he’s
terrified of not being enough
- Belle figures
that out after a while, and even though it breaks her heart, it also makes her
even more determined to show him just how happy he makes her, their friends,
- (on that
note, Adam definitely has a praise
- (but he
enjoys praising Belle - and watching her reaction - as well? basically their communication during sex is A+,
10/10, would recommend)
- but anyway,
as effective contraception was basically non-existent as a term back then, and despite their being
bright and well-read and everything (Belle a genius, even), there isn’t a
solution they could come up with that would really work
- (besides not
having sex at all, obviously, but knowing themselves that’s so impossible/ridiculous
a thought they don’t even say it out loud, just dismiss it for good)
- so Belle ends
up visiting the Enchantress, despite their shared mistrust
- ..and they have
this amazingly thorough and comforting talk; by the end of it Belle is visibly
more open and more forgiving
- the Enchantress gives Belle the herbal+magical equivalent of a birth control pill
basically, and they part on relatively good terms
- but now Belle
just wants to have sex all the time, which is really adorable/very hard to
resist if you ask Adam
- of course he
knows she’s done something, and as Belle won’t tell him what’s this sudden,
miraculous ’solution’, he can’t help but worry
- she gets so
annoyed she just kind of blurts it out one morning, and immediately regrets it
- Adam goes
from mildly worried to full-on panicking in about two minutes; he isn’t loud or
dramatic for once – he becomes uncharacteristically quiet, and he looks so, so lost and afraid
- Belle tries
to convince him that it’s fine, everything is fine and the Enchantress wouldn’t
have a ’reason’ to curse him/them this time – but it sounds really half-hearted
the more desperate and guilty she becomes (he’s looking at her with big blue
eyes, and when she moves to draw him into her arms, he’s shaking, holding onto her as if someone was to take her away if he
let her go)
- that night, he
kisses her, stroking her back as if she was the porcelain doll she very much isn’t, and refuses to do anything else –
he doesn’t sleep a wink, either
- the next day
there are as many as six physicians
in the castle, and Belle huffs and grits her teeth in annoyance, but lets them
examine her, looking for any physical sign of a curse
- they don’t
find anything, and Belle nearly cries at Adam’s joyous, relieved expression
when she tells him
- weeks pass,
and although they are still just as affectionate as before, there’s this
hesitation, unsureness between them that Belle hates more than anything – she can
see Adam doesn’t like it, either
- she decides
she’s had enough after a month of
this, takes a deep breath, and tells Adam she’s ready to have children after
all, they needn’t be that careful
- Adam knows it’s
not entirely untrue, but also sees that stubbornly set jaw, that brave,
upturned face, and decides to visit the Enchantress himself
- he comes back
only slightly less terrified, but he kisses her palm and folds her fingers
around the small vial, and Belle feels his trust heavy and sweet in that palm as he leans
down to kiss her properly
- things grow..
easier in the next few years, between them and the Enchantress
- however, it’s
not until the birth of their first child, healthy and perfect, that the last
traces of worry fade from Adam’s eyes
- he still
insists on co-sleeping with the baby (at least until Belle has recovered), and
Belle, utterly in love with the child and now feeling confident enough to be a
parent her mother would be proud of, agrees
Summary: Clay trying to cut people out of his life after Hannah’s death, but (Y/N) lets Clay to feel the presence of his best friend.
A/N: Hello there, guys! I was sick in these past few days and I decided to watch 13 Reasons Why. I fell in love with it and it’s now added to my imagines list. I hope you like it and I can’t wait to write more of it.
- G. x
“Clay!” You almost heard your voice echoing in the whole hallway as you tried to catch your best friend’s attention. You’ve been close friends with Clay ever since and you knew what was happening to him in that exact moment: he was hallucinating. “Jensen!”
“What?” His eyes grew wide and you perfectly saw his bright and scared electric blue eyes. It wasn’t the first time you were seeing him like that and you somehow get used to it.
“Clay,” You rested a hand on his left shoulder and rub it, trying to make him feel better. “what’s going on?” You asked him as you peeked behind his shoulders, seeing Tony’s Walkman and his headphones thrown carelessly in his locker.
“Nothing.” He lied through his teeth. His shoulder relaxed a little bit this time and his eyes went back to their normal shape. “Nothing’s going on.” He turned himself to get his thrown stuffs and he struggled as he tried to put them in his backpack.
“Shut up!” You blocked his way as he was about to walk away from you. “Is it Hannah?”
“Stop being nosey, (Y/N)!” He harshly pulled your arm away and he slammed his locker door as he started to walk away, annoyed for your actions.
“Jensen!” You called him once again and you hoped that he would turn around, but you perfectly knew Clay. He wouldn’t want any help from people, even though he needed it. “Clay, for fuck’s sake!”
“Go to your class!” He shortly answered, pushing you away totally. “The bell is going to ring shortly.”
“Right!” You bit your lip as you tried to prevent your tears from streaming down your face. “You think that it’s easy for me to see you like that, Jensen? It’s also hard for me to know that Hannah isn’t here anymore, not having you beside me makes it even harder. I am your best friend and it seems like you can’t even trust me.”
“(Y/N), I…” Clay tried to calm you down as he turned around to face you.
“I don’t know what’s going inside your head right now. I need explanations. I need explanations why did Hannah left, I need explanations why you are acting strange, I need explanations.” You blurted out angrily as your tears finally rolled down your cheeks. You didn’t care about the people watching you, you didn’t care if people thought that you were making a scene out of nothing at all. “There are many people around me, but it’s seems like I am alone and being alone sucks!”
“(Y/N).” He bit his lip as he pulled you in his arms for a hug. “I’m sorry.”
“Clay,” You weakly punched Clay’s chest for several times. “I need someone beside me and you need that someone too. I am just asking for you not to turn your back away from me. We are a team here, right?”
“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” Clay hugged you tighter as he tried to calm you down. He was more in himself at that moment, no thoughts were running through his head, no doubts and no questions. “I’m here for you and I’m sorry for pushing you away. Stop crying, I’m here and I’m not leaving you anymore, okay?” Clay was afraid, he was afraid to see you sad or crying. He never wanted to hurt you, it wasn’t his intention. Clay was affected for Hannah, but he knew that he must be there with you too. You were his best friend and he could count on you, no matter what happened.
“Okay.” You nodded as you wiped the tears on your cheeks away. “I’m here for you too, Clay. I never left and I never will.”
“I know that, (Y/N).” He kissed you on your forehead like what he used to do before his life got messed up, before Hannah took her life away, leaving the two of you. “C’mon then, Monet’s? My treat.”
“Alright.” You slightly pushed him away, escaping from his tight grip. “Fair enough.” You joked, defusing the situation a little bit.
“Drama queen.” He joked as he pulled you beside him, wrapping his arms around your waist, not minding the crowd around the two of you. He was less pensive and more cheerful during that moment.
“Shut up, Jensen.” You rolled your eyes and you couldn’t believe that you saw him smiling wide after many weeks now. “I would slap you silly if you don’t stop it, band aid boy!” You slightly squeezed the scarred part of his forehead and he just cried for pain, while you laughed loudly.
You were both devastated and you both needed someone beside you to move on, that’s why you got each other’s back and you forever will. Obviously, still keeping Hannah’s thoughts alive.
I seriously need to follow some more blogs, so please like/reblog if you:
-Tag “blood”, “gore”, and related stuff, so I can blacklist it.
-Optionally, if you tag “nsfw” too.
And I’ll check your blog and might follow you.
Any fandoms are welcome, really. I’m particularly interested in Haikyuu, Pokemon, Voltron, Yuri on Ice, figure skating (and other sports)… But I’m open to follow bogs with other content if you seem to be a nice person.
Reblogs would really help! (if you’re a mutual, you can reblog this too if you want to help!) Thank you!
Please don’t ruin this for Mani by saying insane things and alienating her fanbase from the others. She needs all the support she can get and it needs to come by way of her dancing prowess and overall presence on the show. You can be supportive of Normani without demeaning other people’s favorites okay?
Of course Lisa notices when Len starts seeing colors. It’s only a matter of time before she gets him to admit it’s The Flash, and with their fight at the museum all over the news Lisa already knows how well Len’s handled the situation. She says he needs to fix it, and Len’s never been able to say no to her puppy dog eyes. Time to start planning.
Joe was there, at the museum, and he heard everything Barry and Snart said to each other. Barry doesn’t want to talk about it–even if he did he’d probably go to Iris–but he can only avoid Joe for so long before his foster father is dragging him into an empty room at STAR Labs. But he still doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to explain or listen. Leonard Snart never asked Barry to be his soulmate, and Barry was done asking for or expecting anything. Snart is a criminal, and Barry is The Flash. What does it matter that they’re soulmates?