it took on a life of its own

so ive been thinking about this for awhile

honestly i think longer episodes arent a good thing. they might seem like a good thing bc longer episodes=more plot progression and character development right? but thats not whats happening, the plot is moving forward at a snails pace and its boring as hell. so ive been trying to articulate why it seems like so much more was happening in the first 3 volumes despite shorter episodes and i think its because the shorter episodes put more pressure the writers to utilize each second wisely, they couldn’t afford to have long ass speeches because they had to be cutthroat on what to leave in. now obviously its not like they never wasted screentime in v1-3, but it was a lot better than what we have now.

now it seems like m&k think they have all the time in the world to have characters talk to each other and for the plot, but its not really a good thing to spend forever on one subject, things really need to be more concise. it seems like theyre not asking themselves vital questions like what is the purpose of this dailogue/scene, how we can we convey it a timely matter so we have proper emphasis on that purpose, and how can we make it as interesting as possible? in the most recent episode (which i only watched just now lmao) i think that conversation with sun and blake could have taken up so much less time, it took up like a third of the episode, and they were literally just sitting there talking. if youre gonna have characters talking for that fucking long it should be for a good reason, and there should at least something more happening visually, the blake short is a good example. i thought that oscars outburst was great, hes finally getting some character. but ive said before that oscars screentime in v4 should have been cut completely and i think that moment would have been so much better if it had been. oscar having almost no character for v4 and then 5 episodes into v5 getting some character? not great? oscar being introduced in v5 and then showing his frustration and inner turmoil by episode 5? much better

so really it just comes down to m&k realizing that even though the episodes are longer each second still counts, sometimes less is more and for the love of god pacing is so fucking important

anonymous asked:

Ale's baptism, I bet he was so sacred when it happened

Spain had the arrangements for the baptism made, being careful about the details. He had the epiphany the night before that it would be best to baptize the child while they were at sea. He could wait for them to return to Madrid and do it in a proper cathedral, but the priest serving as his personal confessor had already said he was willing to administer the sacrament, and what was really important was God’s presence, and Spain had no doubt that God had been on his side this whole campaign.

He walked down the hall to the room where the young Aztec prince was. He saw that the translator was standing outside the door, and he took that to mean that the boy was sleeping. It seemed that he had been doing that when he was not crying or asking endless questions about his new surroundings. It was a very good sign that Mexica was so curious about everything, but Spain was getting tired of the constant questions because he was not able to explain the little details of his routines that he had never thought about. 

He pushed open the door slowly so that it would not make a sound. Mexica was curled up on the bed with his blankets in his arms. Spain felt a pang of sadness that the little prince wasn’t holding onto him, as he usually did when he was asleep. But, there was plenty of time left in the trip, and he had no intention of putting Mexica in a different chamber. The child stirred in his sleep and whimpered sweetly, which made Spain smile. He was so innocent still, which gave Spain even more reason to baptize him now. He wanted to save the boy from a life of savagery and there was no better time than when he was still innocent. 

Spain closed the door, still being sure to be quiet. He could wait until the boy woke up, there was plenty of time. Once outside, he turned to the translator, and said, “Bring him to me as soon as he wakes up.”
She asked, “What should I tell him? He will ask why.” 

Spain knew that she was right, but he did not know how to explain. He said, “Tell him it is a religious ceremony.” He then paused for a moment as he remembered what was the boy’s experience of religion was, and he added, “Make it clear that no one is going to hurt him.” 

Mexica awoke and his immediate instinct was to look up for his mother, since he couldn’t feel her arms around him. But after blinking a few times, he remembered where he was. He saw the walls of the very familiar loathsome little wooden room.

 Then the image flashed across his mind again of his mother with Spain’s sword through her heart. The pain came back in the middle of his chest and the tears welled up in his eyes. His beautiful life with his mother seemed so far away now. He pulled in a sobbing breath.

The door opened and Mexica pulled in another sob. He was frightened with every fiber of his being that he would see Spain walk through the door. But, it was the translator who had introduced herself as Malintzin. Mexica did not trust her but she seemed to be the only person who spoke his language and had some concern for him. 

She saw the tears that had started to form in his eyes and immediately walked over to him. She kept a respectful distance but said, “Don’t cry, dear prince.” Mexica shook his head. His mother would have told him the same thing. But, he couldn’t help but let tears roll down his face. He wiped them away as well as he could.

Malintzin spoke to him, and when he looked up he saw pain on her face, “Spain wishes to see you, your highness. He is waiting for you.” Mexica knew he should maintain his dignity, but the last thing he wanted to do was see the man who murdered his mother.
He snapped back, “Why can’t he just leave me alone?” As soon as he said it, Mexica regretted the lack of dignity and said, “I didn’t mean that. I will go.” 

Still feeling like he was moving through a nightmare, Mexica followed the woman out of the room and down a hall. The few sailors he passed still stared at him and spoke to each other in that language he did not understand. He shrank away from any of them, scared of the blood he knew was on their hands. 

They reached the doors to a chamber, which were pushed open in front of him. Spain was standing behind it, and the sight of those green eyes made Mexica want to recoil and run. But, he stood still and did the only thing he could think to do. He questioned, “What am I doing here?”

Malintzin translated it, and Mexica saw anger flash over Spain’s face. He said something and the native woman flinched. She turned back to Mexica, and tried to explain, “He wants you to be part of a ritual.” 

Mexica felt uncontrollable fear overtaking his mind. What did that mean? Would it hurt? Upon seeing his face, she quickly added, “No one is going to hurt you.” Mexica looked around her at Spain suspiciously, but the man seemed to be trying to put a comforting expression on his face. Mexica did not trust it, but he hardly had a choice, so he nodded.

He got as close as he felt comfortable being to Spain and then he stopped. Only then did he notice that there was another man in the room, and he was wearing clothing that seemed stranger than even the usual for these strangers.

Spain stepped closer and put his hand on Mexica’s shoulder. He tried not to cringe away from the touch. Spain looked at him and said something, which Malintzin translated, “He says not to worry. This is sacred and it is for your own good.”

She did not seem to believe  the words, even as she translated them. Mexica felt fear rise again, and he could find nothing to comfort himself. He did not understand what was about to happen and was afraid to question it. Spain guided him over so that they were both standing in front of the unfamiliar man in the strange clothing. 

Mexica noticed a basin of water in front of him, and he did not know the purpose. There was some conversation that passed between the man he took to be some kind of priest and Spain in a language that sounded even more foreign. Mexica did not understand and it apparently would have been inappropriate to translate for him. He decided to stand perfectly still and hope for some kind of explanation.

The priest suddenly reached down and touched Mexica’s forehead with his finger, and left something wet where it had touched. Unconscious of his actions, Mexica stepped backwards. But, he couldn’t go far because Spain’s hand stopped him. Mexica looked up questioningly and Spain only responded with a smile that was supposed to be soothing. 

It did not have the intended effect; it only made Mexica feel less certain. Why was he being touched? What was on his forehead? It became even worse when Spain reached down and picked him up. It was not the first time Spain did it, but each time was more uncomfortable. Those same hands that were now holding him had killed his mother. 

Spain stepped forward so that he was standing next to the basin. The priest said something and then Spain looked directly at Mexica and said something. But with no translator present, it meant nothing to Mexica. He responded, “What?” but he realized that Spain couldn’t understand him either.

 He felt himself dipping backwards towards the water and took an instinctive breath before his head was completely submerged. He tried not to panic, but the thought occurred to him that Spain was trying to drown him. Was this a sacrifice to some water deity?

It lasted for only a moment before he was pulled back out of the water. Mexica shook his head to try to get the water out of his eyes. He pulled in deep gulping breathes and hoped that he would not be submerged again. 

But, thankfully, Spain put him down. He wanted to run, but Spain would not allow him to. Instead, he kneeled down next to him and took a necklace from his pocket and put it around his neck. 

Only then did Spain guide him back to Malintzin. Spain said something to her and she, in turn, said, “He says that your name is Alejandro now.”
Mexica, shivering, cold, and wet, started to cry again and said miserably, “I don’t understand.”
Breaking the usual boundaries of respect, Malintzin hugged him and said, “You will survive this and thrive, little prince.”

Once he took control of his colors, he was finally able to have an impact on the world around him. It had its ups and downs, its experiments, failings, successes…

He found himself enjoying the life he was creating on his own, without really knowing who granted him powers of the kind or why, but putting it to good use nonetheless.

He wasn’t done on his discoveries, though… not at all. He knew that being gifted with this ability was useless all on his own, and perhaps…

He had to think bigger.

And it seemed like this second chance was willing to open his eyes a second time.

[Part 5] [Part 7 //yet to come//]

Katsugeki Touken Ranbu OP

For people who don’t know anything about japanese history like me. 
I really know nothing so hopefully everything’s in check. 

This is Watatsumi Shrine. This is a shrine located in Kochi, which is Sakamoto Ryoma’s birthplace (Mutsunokami’s owner). Ryoma is seen has the hero of Kochi and is admired and respected by its people, which led to the construction of a bronze statue of Ryoma in 1928. It currently resides near the shrine.
Also the maple tree’s leaves can mean “precious memories” in flower language! The leaves can turn red from October to December, and Ryoma died in December.

This is the battle of Aizu. A remnant of The Shinsengumi fought in this battle in favor of the Tokugawa government. Kane-san’s and Horikawa’s owner, Hijikata Toshizou, participated in this battle. Although in the end the faction he was part of lost.

This is from the battle of Hakodate, which takes place after the battle of Aizu. Here Hijikata joins the battle too and fought long and hard, but was killed in the end. Also Hijikata was killed by a gunshot wound, maybe the hole in the Shinsengumi flag was made by a bullet?

This is the Honnouji incident. This is where Yagen’s owner, Oda Nobunaga, died by committing suicide after being surrounded by the opponent’s troops. The fire consumed the Honnouji and Yagen vanished during it, supposedly lost to the fire. (he’s prolly watching over Oda as the fire consumes him too ;_;)

This is the Ootaki castle. Tonbokiri’s owner, Honda Tadakatsu, founded and partially ruled this castle. He died during fall, and you can see it’s fall during this scene. Also these leaves are from a Ginkgo tree, in flower language they can mean “repose of souls”.

This is the Shimotsuki incident, which took place in December. One of Tsurumaru’s owners was a young boy called Sadayasu from the Adachi clan. During the incident, the Adachi clan ended up being exterminated thanks to the Hojo clan, and Sadayasu was killed. Tsurumaru was buried together with Sadayasu, but then came in Hojo Sadatoki who wanted to own Tsurumaru, so he exhumed Sadayasu’s grave and took him away. (there’s some discrepancy between the real life events and game events about this just fyi)

This is from Sakamoto Ryoma’s assassination. When Ryoma was attacked he reached for his sword, Mutsunokami, and used it to block the opponent’s attack. In the process of doing this, the sword’s scabbard broke and the opponent’s blade reached him. In the end he lost the fight and died. 

So basically this OP is pretty sad. 


NaLu Week Bonus Day 1: Video Games

In which Natsu gets way too into his online games against Gray. While he’s yelling at the TV and angry that Gray is beating him, Lucy is woken up from her sleep. So she takes it upon herself to ‘distract’ Natsu from his loss.

Anddd, you can decide where the rest goes;)

The next day:

Gray: What happened man? Didja give up ‘cause you were losing?

Natsu: Yeah right! I would have kicked your ass if Lucy hadn’t distracted me!

Gray: Distract you? How?

Natsu: Well, first she-

Lucy: *blushes intensely* NATSU! Don’t you dare!

Gray: *glances between the two* …gross.

Juvia: Juvia can distract Gray-Sama too if he’d like!<3

P.s., this prompt was originally going to be a scene from my fic, Down the Rabbit Hole, but it kind of took on a life of its own! Ah well, still fun :)


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Mind Reader

Characters: Dean x Reader

Warnings: angst adjacent, smut, dirty talk, LOTS of language

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I was looking through some REALLY old requests and I came across an idea from @jennalyncarrigan1230 from who knows how long ago. She pitched an idea that I have twisted and LOVE the outcome. I doubt she even remembers sending the ask, but her initial idea sparked this smutty goodness. This took on a life of its own. I haven’t wrote Dean smut or ANY smut in quite some time. This is officially DIRTY. Or at least by my standards it is. Hope you enjoy. ;) Italics & Bold indicate reader’s thoughts.  This has very little plot. Just the poor reader thinking her secret dirty thoughts about Dean only to have them be not so secret anymore.

Feedback Appreciated

Tags at the bottom

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tbh the whole fahc au is such a beautiful and incredible example of the whole “death of the author” thing, like we took a video game and some people we like and mushed them together into this big cool thing we all made ourselves as a community, and everyone has their own version but theres always certain ideas that get passed around and stick to make something solid enough that there are AUS OF THIS AU. its weird and its creative and its unique and i fucking love it all

So few come and don’t go

summary: Natsume is happy. Tanuma doesn’t know why he doesn’t feel satisfied with that.

title borrowed from look after you by the fray. 


Natsume doesn’t flinch.

When the store clerk grabs his arm, holding out a bag they forgot at the checkout before they can leave it behind, Natsume’s whole body goes still. It’s only for a second, just for that brief moment of sudden contact, but something heavy settles in his face, something almost expectant.

As though he’s been braced this whole time for what’s coming next.

And maybe, Tanuma thinks, watching his friend smile his thanks and take the bag with a thousand yards of distance in his eyes, flinching would have been a little easier to watch.

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also can i just point out the difference between how long it took kara to forgive James and even see him as a friend again for becoming Guardian ( like i dont agree completely with the Guardian storyline but thats a different story) and how it literally took her an episode and a half to forgive mon el for owning slaves and objectifying women all his life ???  racism and inconsistent bad writing coming from the cw ?? its more likely than you think

(This started as a response to this post of @rcmclachlan‘s but immediately took on a life of its own and got so long that I think it would be rude/derailing as a response, so here it is as its own post, sorry about whatever this is.)

I’ve just decided that Yuuri Katsuki is the Hugh Dancy of photoshoots, in that every photographer meets him, goes slightly cross-eyed, panics, and starts throwing questionable props at him and putting him in ridiculous situations.

Yuuri Katsuki as Hugh Dancy drinking a mojito on a ladder in a pool for no reason.

Yuuri Katsuki as Hugh Dancy Not Knowing How Chairs Work

Yuuri Katsuki as Hugh Dancy In Eyeliner And A Collar

Yuuri thinks this is just how photoshoots work, don’t they?  It’s how his have always worked, anyway, he sort of assumes his photos always seem so weird because it’s just some flaw in him, that he’s so unattractive photographers have to distract from his terrible face and katsudon body with weird settings and poses and props. 

At some point Phichit tries to sit him down for a conversation about how he has to stop doing That Look at his photographers because it incapacitates them and that’s what leads to things like that photoshoot where he’s balancing a pumpkin on his head while a chicken stares at him.  And Yuuri is just all; what look, I am trying not to make eye contact at all, it’s the only way I can survive having so many people looking at me, why are there so many makeup people.  And Phichit has to explain that it comes off as gazing coyly up through your eyelashes, Yuuri, you were practically batting them at the poor man and Yuuri just wails I COULDN’T SEE HIM, YOU TOOK MY GLASSES AWAY, I WAS SQUINTING.  

Phichit just: that poor man, he thinks you’re practically engaged, please wear your contacts and stop accidentally making people fall in love with you, I am running out of space on my wall for photos of you not knowing how different kinds of furniture work.

What I’m saying is that when Yuuri eventually stammers out to Phichit that he’s thinking of having some, you know, *lowered voices*, boudoir photos taken for Viktor’s birthday, Phichit’s response is twofold.  

First: get him, Tiger.  Second: hire a lesbian who will not give two fucks about your Eros but actually understands photography. It’s the only way they will turn out actually-sexy and not you naked-but-strategically-draped-in-goldfish, standing en pointe in a Home Depot, for some reason, waving a box of crackers.

Phichit assumes his advice was followed when Viktor’s one and only social media post on his birthday is I AM DEAD. I AM DEAD AND MY PERFECT AND PRECIOUS HUSBAND HAS KILLED ME, RIP ME, MY SOUL HAS LEFT MY BODY, I AM ASCENDING TO A HIGHER PLANE NOW.

Then again, who knows.  That’s also the sort of thing Viktor posts on any random Tuesday if he caught a glimpse of Yuuri’s ankle during dinner or something.

Phichit sends Yuuri a thumbs-up emoji anyway, because he’s an idiot and needs all the encouragement he can get.


Summary: In which you go missing and it turns Eggsy’s world upside down.

Pairing: Eggsy x Reader

Word Count: 3,196

A/N: Well here it is, my first Eggsy fic. This is all thanks to @writingruna who, after learning that I was thinking about writing for Eggsy, sent me a bunch of requests to help motivate me to do it. It worked and here’s one of those requests.

Originally posted by thetaronblog

The Kingsman never had a rule put in place about agents dating each other. At the time of the organization’s creation, they didn’t feel the need to. Becoming an agent meant making sacrifices. The unspoken assumption was that this meant giving up a chance at falling in love.

That assumption was made on the belief that falling in love with someone outside of Kingsman could only end badly. A relationship was meant to be built on the truth, and telling the truth was one of the many things an agent couldn’t afford to do. Secrecy was the most important aspect of the organization. There was also the fear that personal connections could become liabilities out in the field. What if an agent’s significant other was kidnapped and used as leverage by the enemy? Or worse, killed to exact revenge?

Love was complicated enough on its own. By adding a person’s status as a Kingsman into the mix, that equation suddenly became an unsolvable one.

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Some people got the real problems
Some people out of luck
Some people think I can solve them
Lord heavens above
I’m only human after all

Been a long time since I did a portrait of Gordon; I used reference this time!

When You’re Near

Thank you to @sqrzos for this prompt for a Merlin/Arthur fic! 

“You stubbed your toe, you’re not dying.”

Arthur Pendragon was the King of Camelot. He had a beautiful kingdom, with its endless bounds of bustling people; bright blue skies, and sunny mornings, such as this one. Even though he had his list of duties to attend to that morning, he was gazing out of his window at some children playing with their parents by the courtyard, and he smiled at them. Training was due to begin in an hour, and he was waiting on Merlin to bring his mail and armor to him; Which, if he had been paying attention, Arthur would have noticed that Merlin had arrived a few seconds ago.

“Here you go, sire,” Merlin said, cheerily as he sat the mail and armor on the table gently. Arthur turned around suddenly and ended up knocking his water pitcher over from the desk, spilling over the side of it. Luckily, none of the documents on the table had gotten wet. Merlin clucked his tongue. “I’ll get it, Arthur.” He muttered, and grabbed a rag from the bucket in the side of the room.

“Damn it,” Arthur cursed quietly and crossed the room to change.

“And you call me clumsy,” Merlin teased, wringing the sopping rag into the bucket.


“Shut up?”

“You guessed it,” Arthur told him, peeking from behind the screen.

“So, I’ll see you down there?” Merlin asked, retreating from the room.

“Make sure there are plenty of water skins,” Arthur reminded him.

“Oh, no…I figured you guys could just lick it off the bench,” Merlin joked, shutting the door. Arthur snorted at Merlin’s snarky retort, and finished dressing. Truth was, this was happening more and more the moment Merlin was around Arthur. If Merlin just appeared, Arthur would drop whatever he was holding, stutter over his words, or spill something. Even dropped his sword during training yesterday, much to the amusement of Gwaine. He would never hear the end of that one…



Arthur called the Knights to attention when he reached the training field, with a good morning and a nod to each of them. He purposefully did not look to see if Merlin was around, and began the exercises.

“Hello, Merlin,” Gwen greeted, as she made her way over to him. Merlin beamed at her, and took the extra water skins from her hands.

“Thanks. How’s everything?” Merlin asked, as he filled them up.

“Oh, good. Good. How many times can I say the word ‘good’?” Gwen smiled and blushed when Merlin saw her sneak a glance at Lancelot.

“As many times as it takes,” Merlin sat down on the bench and began to organize or polish the training swords, so he would have something to do. “Hey, Gwen? Have you noticed that Arthur has been…off lately?”

“Off? How do you mean?” Gwen asked curious as she sat next to Merlin.

“Well, he keeps dropping things and stuttering. Arthur does not stutter. He’s very eloquent, usually. Even though he’s a cabbage head,” Merlin explained.

“I have noticed, but really Merlin…of course he’s going to act like that.” Gwen laughed and lightly touched his arm.

“I’m not following…” Merlin said, confused.

“It’s how someone acts when they are…well…like how Arthur is,”

Merlin raised his brows in even deeper confusion.

“Merlin…it’s how Lancelot acted around me when he first started courting me. I didn’t fare much better. We were—are, completely besotted. That’s not a bad thing,” Gwen smiled, and sighed as she looked over in Lancelot’s direction again.

Merlin felt his heart skip a beat, then thump wildly in his chest. “Arthur is besotted with someone?” He asked, his throat feeling dry.

Gwen looked at him with wide eyes. “You—oh my god. Merlin…you don’t–? Oh dear,”

“What Gwen?” Merlin asked, when she rose to leave.

“I just—I have duties that need seeing to. Tell Lancelot I’ll see him for dinner,” Gwen rushed away, turning bright red as she walked. Merlin was confused at her sudden departure, but couldn’t think about that at the moment. It made sense, now Gwen had explained it. Merlin wondered who it was, and he hoped that Arthur was happy. He deserved it…Merlin shook away the feeling of uneasiness that came with the tightness in his chest at the thought of Arthur happy with someone else. Not that Merlin had entertained thoughts of being…like THAT…with his King in any way.

Except, he did. Often. He often dreamed, and daydreamed when he was supposed to be getting on with his chores. He dreamed that Arthur would come up behind him and kiss the back of his neck after a long training session, in the privacy of Arthur’s chambers, making Merlin shiver. He dreamed that Arthur would hold Merlin close at night, whispering sweet promises of the future of them together. He knew it was a fool’s dream, but he couldn’t help it. Even looking at Arthur sometimes made his heart clench in his chest. With his sun-kissed hair, shining like a halo on his head, bright blue eyes that Merlin sometimes got lost in, and such a generous and good heart…how could anyone with a pulse not fall irrevocably in love with Arthur Pendragon?

He felt tears burn his eyes, but he would be damned if he let them fall. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear Arthur call training to an end, and the Knights come over for their water skins.

“Hey Merlin!” Gwaine greeted happily, but out of breath. “You see the princess drop his sword again?” He took a generous gulp of his water, and chuckled.

Merlin smiled half-heartedly at him. “No, I didn’t see it,” he commented flatly, and this caught Gwaine’s attention. He felt Gwaine sit next to him on the bench.

“Alright, what is it? You never miss an opportunity to poke fun at His Majesty,”

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Merlin muttered, looking up to see Arthur coming over to him. Merlin automatically held a skin out for him to take.

“Do not go spreading lies, Sir Gwaine,” Arthur scolded the knight. “Thank you, Merlin,”

“Not a lie, since we all saw it,” Gwaine rose an eyebrow at him.

“An honest mistake,” Arthur tried to cover up his own chuckle as he took a drink from his skin.

Merlin decided it was best to take his leave from Arthur to go see if Gaius needed any help before he had to tidy Arthur’s chambers. He needed to think, and to try and calm the rainstorm building in his heart. “I’m going to assist Gaius. Do you have any need of me, sire?”

Arthur rose his eyebrows at that. Normally, Arthur would retire to his chambers for lunch, while joking and laughing with Merlin a bit before he had to sit through boring council meetings all afternoon. He blinked at him, not really sure what to say.

“Sire?” Merlin asked.

“N-no. You’re dismissed. Just make sure my chambers are cleaned before I retire this evening,”

Merlin nodded once at him and hastily made his way back to Gauis’ and his own quarters. He slammed the door harder than he thought, making Gaius look up.

“Something wrong, Merlin?” He asked.

“No, nothing. Everything is fine,”

Gaius raised The Eyebrow at him, making Merlin think Gaius didn’t believe him, but he didn’t comment on it further. “Well, since you’re here, you can clean the leech tank,”

“Fine,” Merlin rolled up his sleeves and went over to the other side of the room to gather the supplies he would need.

“What is going on? You usually kick up a fuss if I ask you to do this,” Gaius asked, walking over to him.

“Just seeing if you needed any help,” Merlin commented, voice shakier than he would have liked it to be.

“Merlin…you have been ward for years now. I know you better than you think. So, what is going on? Something has upset you,” Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, and shook his head. “Very well. I won’t push. If you need to talk, I’m here for you, Merlin.” Gaius squeezed Merlin’s shoulder and Merlin smiled back gratefully.


Arthur went back to his own chambers, and began removing his armor and mail, a little awkward since Merlin wasn’t helping him, but he managed. He ran his hand through his hair, and went to wash up at the bowl over on the side of his bed. He couldn’t get his mind off of how Merlin was so stand offish earlier. He was never afraid to say what he was thinking, no matter what it was, and that was one of the things that Arthur loved about him. He froze, water dripping off of his face, and all over the floor.

“Oh…OH. Oh my god,” Arthur said to the empty room. He…Arthur Pendragon…loved Merlin. He loved him. He was in love with Merlin. It all made sense now! Arthur’s laugh bubbled up in his chest and he let out a loud whoop, not befitting a King at all, but he could be arsed to care in that particular moment. Now, only to tell Merlin…he faltered a bit, wondering if Merlin returned his feelings. He was sure he didn’t miss the lingering glances or the way Merlin gazed into his eyes that made Arthur feel like he was the most important person in the world. Or the way Merlin had risked his life several times over for him…maybe Merlin felt the same. Only one way to find out…

“Sire?” He heard a voice come through after a knock.

“Guinevere, hello,” Arthur greeted her, hurrying to find a tunic in his wardrobe. “Did you need something?”

“Well, I was out on training field this morning…”

“I have no doubt,” Arthur teased her. “Sir Lancelot did exceptional today, don’t you think?”

Gwen blushed. “Yes, of course he did. But, that’s not why I’m here,”

Arthur walked over to her, and began to put his boots back on. “Oh?”

“I spoke with Merlin, and he mentioned you had been acting strangely, sire,” Gwen sat on the chair across from him, lacing her fingers together on her lap.

Dammit, Arthur cursed himself. Of course Merlin would notice…”O-Oh? Well, I…er…”

“Like. You don’t stutter. Ever,” Gwen pointed out.


“I explained that your behavior wasn’t as different as Lancelot’s was when we first starting courting,”


“Yes. He dropped everything he was holding, ran into people…oh, he was a mess! A sweet mess, but all the same,” Gwen giggled. “But, I thought that Merlin…well, that you and Merlin were—,”

“We were…what, Gwen?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You know—“Gwen raised both of her eyebrows, hopeful Arthur would catch her meaning. Arthur just stared at her. She sighed. “Courting, Arthur.”


“Yes, oh. And…I don’t think Merlin—“

“Oh, this makes so much more sense now. The hurrying off, the sudden need to help Gaius. Oh, I’m such an ass,” He looked at the ground and shook his head. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

“What do you mean, sire?” Gwen rested her hand on his knee in a comforting gesture.

“He most likely thinks I’m seeing someone else,”

“Oh…oh, no,” Gwen said, sadly. “You have to tell him you’re not,”

“Well, I—“

“Now, Arthur!” Gwen asserted, and pulled him up out of the chair. “You know how Merlin is,”

“How do I even know he will return my feelings?” Arthur asked her, as she pushed him out the door…of his own chambers, no less.

Gwen just raised an eyebrow at him, in a frighteningly good impression of Gauis. It seemed to say ‘You cannot be this ridiculous’.

“Alright…so, I’m just gonna…”

“Yes, that would be best. Sire,” Gwen waved him off and started down the other end of the hallway.

Arthur tried building up his courage on his way there, but he kept coming up with more and more down right awful ways to tell Merlin his true feelings. All of them sounded more ridiculous than the last. Finally, he arrived at the front of the door to the physician’s quarters. He breathed in a deep breath and knocked.

“Come in,” Arthur heard Gaius call out. He shook himself out of his stupor and walked in. Gaius looked up from what he was working on, and smiled.

“Hello, sire.” He greeted.

“Good afternoon, Gaius. Is…is Merlin available by any chance?” Arthur asked, and he felt his voice waiver ever so slightly.

Merlin heard Arthur ask after him, and thumped his head on top of the leech tank he was scrubbing. What the—why was Arthur asking for him now? He thought.

“Yes? Did you need something?” Merlin asked, setting down the rag. He was breathing a bit heavily from the exertion, and Arthur’s mouth went dry. Merlin was flushed all over his face, and down his long, pale neck that Arthur often thought about nuzzling into. “Arthur?”

“I was—I was just wondering…if you—if you eat,”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Eat?”

“Yes. Eat…lunch,”

“Of course I do,” Merlin answered, slowly. He was missing something here.

“I think what his Majesty is trying to say,” Gaius chimed in, because he couldn’t take the tension anymore, “Is would you like to have lunch with him, Merlin?”

“Yes, thank you, Gaius,” Arthur was sure his cheeks were burning red, as he felt it from his face to the tips of his ears.

“You’re welcome, sire,” Gaius replied and went back to the potion he was working on.

“Well…yeah, sure, I guess. Just let me clean up and I’ll be right back,” Merlin answered, retreating to his room. He shut the door behind him and leaned against the door. What the hell was going on? He was having lunch with Arthur…all of a sudden? It wasn’t like they didn’t share meals before, but never like this. Arthur had never asked him like this…his heart was beating a mile a minute as he washed up quickly and changed his clothes. He made sure to look at least halfway decent, and tied his red neckerchief securely around his neck. He breathed a deep calming breath and went back out to the main room.

Arthur looked up from the little blue bottle he was inspecting at the end of the table and saw Merlin standing there with a smile. He looked like he always did…but now, it took Arthur’s breath away. His heart swelled with all the feelings he had for the man in front of him and he couldn’t wait to tell him.

“Ready?” Arthur asked, returning the smile.

“Sure. Let’s go,” Merlin answered, and kept pace beside Arthur. Before he came to the physician’s quarters, he arranged for a picnic to be set up for the both of them and they were going to meet the stable boys over at the stables for their horses. He smiled as he saw the horses already packed and ready to go.

Gwaine and Leon were waiting at the stables for them when they arrived. “Everything is arranged, sire,” Leon said, with a small bow.

“You apologized to the council for me?” Arthur asked, petting his horse on the neck.

“Yes, and they were very gracious about it,” Leon responded.

Merlin was in surprise…no, shock was a better term. He looked at the pack of food attached to the horse, and the blanket. They were going on a picnic? What the hell? Merlin wondered, but he said nothing. He mounted his own horse, as Arthur mounted his, and Gwaine came over to bid him goodbye, with a grin. “What?”

“Nothing, my friend. Just that it’s about time and Percy owes me five,” Gwaine gave the horse a pet, and sauntered off. Merlin shook his head at his retreating back.

“Come on, Merlin! Food will get cold!” Arthur called and spurred his horse into a gallop. Merlin followed suit, his horse making his way to catch up to the king.


When they finally reached their destination, they were only minutes outside of the city, and Merlin sighed with the fresh air and quiet. All he could hear were birds singing and the small river trickling in the distance. He had picked herbs for Gaius here more times than he could count, and he often let his magic into the earth as an outlet without anyone being the wiser.

“Merlin, a bit of help would be nice,” Arthur called to him, already trying to unpack their lunch. Merlin rolled his eyes, and went to tie up his horse next to Arthur’s. He walked over to Arthur and grabbed the blanket and unrolled it onto the ground, while Arthur carried over the basket of food.

“Here, Merlin. Sit,” Arthur pointed to the spot across from him, and Merlin sat with his legs crossed. He was still very confused as to why they were here, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was rare these days that he got to spend time alone with Arthur, so he was determined to make the best of it.

They talked, laughed and ate their way through the lunch, and half of the wine skin that Gwaine insisted they bring with them, and wound up resting on the blanket beside one another, looking up at the clouds.

“This is nice,” Merlin commented, with a smile. He looked over at Arthur, only to find the king already looking at him.

Arthur smiled in return. “Yes it is,”

Merlin’s heart fluttered in his chest at the clearly adoring look Arthur was giving him, and then remembered what Gwen had said earlier. Before he could say anything, he heard Arthur sigh in contentment and then felt Arthur lace his fingers in Merlin’s own.

“Arthur?” Merlin squeaked out.


“You’re holding my hand,”


“Well…you don’t do that.”

“I do now, Merlin.”

“Huh?” Merlin asked, sitting up. Arthur sat up as well, and looked at Merlin directly in the eyes.

“I—I know I’m not good at these things. You said once that…what was it? I had the emotional range of a wart?” Arthur laughed out loud at this, and Merlin felt his stomach swoop at the sight.

“I remember,”

Arthur stroked Merlin’s hand with his thumb, rubbing circles onto it. “I have been off, lately. I’m sure you’ve noticed. I finally figured out why, just this morning,”

Oh…yeah…here it comes. Merlin pulled his hand away, heart breaking in the process. “Yes, I know. You have obviously been besotted,”

“Yes, as a matter of fact,”

“Well. Good, good. I’m happy for you,” Merlin was truly, but he couldn’t help that he was jealous of this person.

“I thought you would be,” Arthur smiled and Merlin couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why did you bring me out here? I know you are all ensconced in your new found love and happiness! You should have brought her out here instead!” Merlin yelled, standing up. He was breathing heavily with the effort not to let the tears he felt sting his eyes fall.

“Merlin…” Arthur began, slowly. He knew he had missed something if Merlin thought in this way. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re new lady, of course! I hope she’s pretty. I bet she is, knowing you,” Merlin quipped.

“Oh…Merlin,” Arthur sighed, walking closer to him.

“What?” Merlin asked, angrily.

“You really are an idiot,” Arthur said, fondly. He took Merlin’s face in his hands and pressed his lips chastely to Merlin’s. Merlin felt like his entire being was alive. His magic was singing in his veins and his body was covered in delicious goosebumps. He grabbed Arthur by the waist to pull him in closer. Arthur pulled back from kissing Merlin and rested his forehead against Merlin’s. “That enough for you?” Arthur asked, cheekily.

“More than,” Merlin answered, kissing Arthur again. They were so wrapped up in each other that they didn’t see the still heavy basket sitting on the edge of the blanket. Since they had both taken their boots off some time ago, this was bound to be inevitable. It was Arthur who screeched out, making Merlin start.

“What happened?” Merlin asked, worry etched on his face.

“My…my foot!” Arthur bit out, grimacing.

“What happened to your foot?” Merlin asked, confused.

“Hit it on that damn basket! Argh!” Arthur cried out, falling to the ground again, clutching his foot in pain.

“Arthur, you stubbed your toe. You’re not dying,” Merlin teased him. “I am not going to kiss it better,”

Arthur turned on his full pout, knowing it would work with Merlin. “Hmm, but come here. I’m feeling something else. Pain,”

Merlin smirked at him, and crawled closer. “Where?”

Arthur touched a finger to his lips. “Here,”

“Ah.” Merlin pretended to inspect his king’s lips. “I can tell I am going to have to be very thorough. Only to insure there isn’t any residual pain,”

“Absolutely,” Arthur breathed out, before reaching for Merlin again. Arthur pressed Merlin onto the blanket, Merlin giggling into the kisses Arthur was bestowing on him. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, he had a gorgeous man all to himself…yes. It was a beautiful day, Arthur thought happily.


Off the wall was released in August 1979, the same month I turned twenty-one and took control of my own affairs, and it was definitely one of the major landmarks of my life. It meant a great deal to me, because its eventual success proved beyond shadow of a doubt that a former child star could mature into a recording artist with contemporary appeal. Off the Wall also went a step beyond the dance grooves we had cooked up. When we started the project, Quincy and I talked about how important it was to capture passion and strong feelings in a recorded performance.” -Michael Jackson

Where We Belong

Title: Where We Belong

Summary: Sometimes one little moment can change everything…

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader

Word count: 1370

Warnings: Um, lemme think. A smudge of angst and a very brief mention on nigthmares in the beginning. And then it’s all fluff. Fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff and fluff. Okay. I’ll shut up now.

Author’s Note: So, this oneshot that was supposed to be a drabble (I tried, I swear) was inspired by a conversation I had with my twin about how cute Dean looks in the gif below (it’s not even surprising at this point, I know.) Anyway, the story took a life of its own after that. 

So. Enjoy <3

(Gif used is not mine. You can find it right here.)

It’s a habit really.

One of those stupid little routines you can’t and don’t really want to quit, although it’s a bit more substantial than drinking coffee at midnight or always reading your favorite book with a cup of hot chocolate nearby.

It started a few of months ago, after you and the Winchesters had returned from a nasty vampire hunt in New Orleans, and it’s been happening ever since, but neither you or Dean ever talk about it and Sam probably doesn’t even know.

That’s not what matters though.

What really matters is that Dean Winchester has nightmares.

It’s been going on for years, the ordeals coming and going in the stillness of the night without warning. If he’s lucky, they’re just a few horrible pictures that vanish as soon as he opens his eyes, but if not, then they take him away with them, drown him in tides of loss and despair and leave him so broken that you find it hard to put the fragments back together without missing a piece afterwards.

Most of the times, he comes to you. He shuffles through the hallway quietly and leans against your door, waiting for even breaths and youthful smiles. When he’s sure you’re asleep, he gently climbs into the covers and wraps his arms around you, lips on your forehead in a warm kiss, while words like G’night, sweetheart and Thank God you’re okay, kid make their way into the duskiness of the room.

Sometimes though, the creaky sound of the door and the light padding wakes you up the moment he gets inside. These are the nights Dean will look at you like a puppy caught doing something it wasn’t supposed to and murmur a flustered apology, gaze drifting from your eyes to the floor until you tell him to shut up and c’mere already, pulling him to you. And when you curl up next to his side, body pressed against his firmly, all of his apologies and all of his reticence go away.

But then, there are nights like tonight, nights when you’re the one that tiptoes to his bedroom in silence –just to make sure he’s okay.

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The Labyrinth Chapter 30

Originally posted by bts-we-are-bulletproof

Genre: Gang AU/ High School AU

Pairing: Reader/Jimin ft. all the members

Length: 6.5k

Summary: Looking back on your past, your life has never been anything out of the ordinary. Although your parents had left you on one mysterious night, leaving you little to no explanations, you live out the rest of your years residing in a new town under the custody of your aunt. That is, until you return to your hometown to investigate the whereabouts of your parents during your senior year in high school. It was that fateful decision that led you to find a boy collapsed on your front porch one night, wounds gaping and life fading when your entire life is spun out of control. Somehow being dragged into a life of crimes in the underground business of his, you discover the twisted secrets hidden behind the world you thought you had known all along. 

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♔ The Northern Prince

↳ “I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb.”