it was an elaborate imagination man

Au where Jean, Marco, Connie, Armin, Bertholdt, Reiner, and Eren go shopping. The song ‘I’m too sexy’ by Right Said Fred starts to play and they start to put on sunglasses doing the catwalk and sexy dances in every aisle because they’re all sexy dorks and they know they’re too sexy.

This fic is dedicated to @howlnatural, because its entire existence is her fault, and several of the pivotal plot points are definitely thanks to her ridiculous imagination. It stemmed from a terrible article I found about a man whose back hair was shaved into elaborate patterns for a calendar. “I can’t even begin to fic this one,” I stupidly said, and the challenge was on. 


(Read on AO3)

They’d been sleeping together for about four months when it happened.

Okay, not like Stiles had been counting or anything, but…well, he’d been counting. It’d been three months, twenty-five days, and an assorted number of hours that might be ticking to a close if the fury boiling off Derek’s shifted skin had anything to say about it.

Sometimes, see, Stiles had an idea, and it seemed fantastic at the time, but he didn’t stop to think about what might happen after his fantastic idea had been carried out. Which was why he was locked in the bathroom with a fur-clogged razor in his hand while Derek pounded an angry fist on the other side of the door.

Stiles slid to the floor, and after another loud thump and a world-weary sigh, Derek audibly did the same.

“Just open the door,” Derek said, his voice muffled enough that Stiles figured he probably had his face pressed against the wood. Stiles hadn’t actually flipped the lock into place, and they both knew it. It wasn’t like any of the house’s flimsy doors would hold up against a werewolf who actually wanted to get through, but Derek didn’t use his strength for that kind of thing. He pulled back, constantly. Kept his distance when he could tell Stiles wanted some space. Respected the sanctity of closed doors. Wouldn’t, uh. Pull out a razor when his unsuspecting partner was sound asleep after a particularly invigorating round of sex.

“No,” Stiles said, setting the razor down and wiping his fingers - fuzzy from the now admittedly terrible idea - against his pajama bottoms. “You’re still mad. I’m staying in here until you calm down.”

Stiles. I’m not mad,” Derek lied.

“You’re lisping. That means your fangs are still out.”

Stiles heard a huff and a soft crack as Derek shifted his bones back to their fully human form. “Not mad,” he tried again, this time without the soft slurring that Stiles secretly adored. “Now get out here so we can talk.”

“You’re not going to rip my head off?”

“Not all the way. You’ll probably heal.”

“You still sound like a total creep when you joke like that,” Stiles informed him, opening the door to find his - boyfriend, maybe? assuming Stiles didn’t screw anything else up - sitting against the frame, his feet propped up on one side and his back firmly pressed against the other.

“Good thing you’re into it, then,” Derek said dryly, his eyebrows pulling down in a too-familiar glare that Stiles hadn’t actually seen targeted at him in a couple of years.

Stiles scratched uncomfortably at his chin. “Can I, uh. Can I see it?”

Derek’s eyebrows intensified, but he gracefully stood to his feet and turned around. He cracked his neck, shook out his shoulders, and after a moment, a soft sheen of fur rippled down his back. In, uh. Patches. That spelled out “STILES WUZ ERE” with a clumsily dick-shaped arrow pointing to Derek’s gloriously naked ass.

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Jeff Wall - After “Invisible Man” by Ralph Ellison, the Prologue

Jeff Wall based this elaborately staged photograph on Ralph Ellison’s prologue for his 1952 novel Invisible Man. The unnamed narrator, an African American man, lives secretly “in my hole in the basement [where] there are exactly 1,369 lights,” powered by stolen electricity. Some visual details are drawn from other parts of Ellison’s book or come from the artist’s imagination. In this way, Wall refers to his inspiration for this photograph as an “accident of reading.”1

Wall refers to his method of photography as “cinematography,” and like a cinematic production his work is dependent on collaboration with a cast and assistants who help develop a painstakingly constructed set. He used a large-format camera with a telephoto lens to achieve such a high resolution and finely detailed print. This photograph, like most of Wall’s work, has been printed on a transparency and mounted in a steel-framed light box. The large-scale image is illuminated from behind by fluorescent lights, which Wall began using after seeing light-box advertisements in the late 1970s.

In Jeff Wall’s view, familiarity with Ralph Ellison’s novel is not necessary to appreciate this photograph, nor should the photograph necessarily prompt someone to read Invisible Man. By appreciating the picture, Wall says, someone “can be thought of as having written his or her own novel. The viewer’s experience and associations will do that. These unwritten novels are a form in which the experience of art is carried over into everyday life.”


When you picture a serial killer, what do you think of? Do you think of Hannibal Lecter, a brilliant and sophisticated doctor who treats murder with the joy of a foodie at a gourmet mac & cheese bar? Or do you think of John Doe from ‘Seven’, a man who goes out of his way to create the most elaborately constructed crime scenes in order to make a thematic point to the police?

Either way, you’re probably imagining someone way more competent than an actual serial killer. Real murder is messy, and the real reason serial killers get away with what they do is because they’re brilliant at feigning human emotion. Evil, yes, but they’re not super-geniuses, laughing maniacally at a collage of pictures and string on a wall.

THIS WEEK: Jack O'Brien is joined by Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark, the hosts of the podcast 'My Favorite Murder’ to discuss the common assumptions we get wrong about serial killers, theories surrounding the JFK, RFK, and JonBenet Ramsey murders and, of course, some of their favorite murder stories.

Serial Killers And Famous Unsolved Murders

Tom losing his temper

Interviewer: Tom when’s the last time you lost your temper? gif

And he remembered when he saw you, hugging your ex boyfriend; (he hugs you, like, you were still his girl) Tom he finished the play and before he went to the dressing room, he saw that scene, so he approach to you and without any control ask you:

Tom: what are you doing with this man? (gif)

You: Please Tom, calm down, he came to see the play, just that.
Tom: Don’t be so naive, he never came with that intention. He still trying to…he still wants you.
You: well that’s doesn’t matter, please calm down.
Tom: I can’t, you know I cant; you know what, you two belong together, man, she is all yours.

I little more elaborate this imagine tom.

Okay Shadowhunters, you’ve pushed my ability to suspend my disbelief to the breaking point. I can buy it that the world is full of vampires, werewolves, warlocks and faeries. I can accept that descendants of an angel fight demons to protect humans. But now you’ve gone too far. How did Lydia and Alec put together such an elaborate wedding ceremony in a matter of days?

Somehow, I’m supposed to believe that Lydia had her dress made and perfectly fitted, Alec had a suit constructed from scratch (have you seen the man’s wardrobe?), ditto for Jace, the chapel has been beautifully decorated, and someone managed to get all those dignitaries from Alicante there at the same time?

They must have had warlock help. I can’t imagine who was doing all that work during Izzy’s trial for her life and the hunt for Valentine. If they did, I hope Magnus never finds out who it was!
Check out this elaborate fan imagining of Animal Crossing on Wii U - Animal Crossing World
The well known YouTube content creator Josh Thomas aka TheBitBlock has put together a pretty impressive fan imagining of what a new Animal Crossing title o


April 1, 2016


What has happened today to cause another apocalypse?  It seems in every scenery that I traverse today there is some form of prank or declaration concerning lizards for president or the actor that portrays myself in another universe being declared “Overlord.” What ever is going on?

This particular day used to be Gabriel’s favorite day, though he would not clearly ever state just exactly why April 1 would spark such a sudden amount of energy form him. I would see an elevation in his antics annually on this day, but I would assume his energy would seep into others somehow. They would stage elaborate antics and practical jokes on one another claiming jesters to be the cause of the mischievous pranks. Today, however, seems to have one person being deified into something else entirely.

I heard of rumors regarding the mythical “Mishapocalypse” from past years, but I had never realized its extent across the social webs until there was nothing but a rather disconcerting mage of the man resembling Jimmy Novak plastered across every possible scenario imaginable. It seems this man has turned psychotic and is now releasing his army of identical clones onto the Earth. Now, that is highly illogical therefore I am nothing less than utterly confused as to the extent of what this “April Fool’s” Event is doing or planning on doing.

Was it’s original intent to be to frighten the nonbelievers? Or perhaps nothing but a harmless creative way to express one’s love for one particular person? I will say that seeing a picture of myself that I have no recollection of taking is not something I would like to experience again. The last time this occurred Gabriel had convinced me I was in an alternate reality with Sam and Dean not being hunters but rather normal humans with their human, non-celestial being friend. It was all very convincing and thus very confusing; that is, until I saw the picture of the actor and not the angel.

The more that I ponder this the more I suspect there are other powers at work behind this apocalyptic 24 hour event. Nevertheless, the net aggregate appearance of twitter, tumblr, and other social media avatars has risen exponentially today and shows no sign in stopping for at least 24 hours after today ends.

I have just heard movement from outside and various forms of chanting. Perhaps something supernatural is happening in connection to this apocalypse after all…



Yesterday | Tomorrow


Imagine finding out that your co-worker Chris Evans, has a crush on you

You nervously walk up to the blonde man who stole your heart and cleared your throat to get his attention. “Is it true?”

He looked up at you in confusion and opened his mouth to answer. “Is what true?”

Sighing, you shook your head at his question. It was impossible for him to not have heard the rumors being spread about the two of you but you obviously needed to elaborate. “What everyone is saying about us.” He continued to gaze at you quizzingly and you let out a small noise of irritation. “That you like me. People think that we’re a couple and I want to know if there’s any truth to it all.”

“Yeah, there’s some truth to it.” He shifted his gaze to the ground and you opened your mouth in surprise, having not expected such a straight-forward answer. “What about you? How do you feel about it all?”


Gif source:  Tony

Imagine putting boobs on every single Ironman suit Tony has as revenge for his pranks.

——— Request for anon ———

He marched into the room in full Iron Man gear, only, it looked more like Iron Woman when you’d gotten through with it.

“What is this?” Tony gestures to his chest with annoyance and a bit of incredulity that you’d been able to pull off such an elaborate prank.

“Looks to me like you’ve got a major case of man boobs,” you tease back, reveling in your handiwork as he grunts in aggravation, removing the chest piece.

“You put boobs on all my suits? How did you learn to do that?”

“You know how I’ve been really into hanging around the lab while you’ve worked for the last few weeks, ever since you started this prank war?” you begin, watching as he nods his head before you let out a chuckle, “Well, payback’s a bitch, ain’t it, Stark?”

I think the key image of the 20th century is the man in the motor car. It sums up everything: the elements of speed, drama, aggression, the junction of advertising and consumer goods with the technological landscape. The sense of violence and desire, power and energy; the shared experience of moving together through an elaborately signalled landscape.
We spend a substantial part of our lives in the motor car, and the experience of driving condenses many of the experiences of being a human being in the 1970s, the marriage of the physical aspects of ourselves with the imaginative and technological aspects of our lives. I think the 20th century reaches its highest expression on the highway. Everything is there: the speed and violence of our age; the strange love affair with the machine, with its own death.
—  J.G. Ballard
Fooled Around and Fell in Love (Star-Lord Fluff)

As requested by anon: Your last imagine was great! Can you write a peter quill fluff imagine where he does all these elaborate things to prove that he loves you? (non-smut)

Influence: “Fooled Around and Fell in Love” by Elvin Bishop

“Peter, just stop.”

The man in question stood before you, looking very confused. He’d been pursuing you now for a few weeks, popping into the shop you worked at sporadically, always armed with a new story to boast about and a charming smile on his face. He’d usually buy something expensive—presumably to impress you—and he’d leave you with compliments that never failed to make you blush. But though you enjoyed his visits, you had no intentions of seeing him anywhere outside of work. Sure, the man was so hot he practically burned holes in your face, and you’d never met someone who could hold such interesting conversations, but after having your heart broken numerous times, you could spot his type a mile away.

He was the worst type of player—the type that could fool you into bed without even a hint of suspicion that he would be gone the next morning. You’d fallen for it before, and so it gave you great pleasure to catch Peter in the middle of head games. You wondered how many girls had he left pining for him, or better yet, you wondered if he’d even been rejected before.

His genuine look of confusion suggested that he had not.

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imagine trans iruka!

  • he didn’t die with mizuki’s fuuma shuriken because his binder + flak jacket protected his spine.
  • he keeps his hair long to piss people off because “if you’re a man, why don’t you just cut it?!” and he gets to flip them off.
  • hiruzen was so important because he was the first person to accept and acknowledge iruka as a man.
  • when hiruzen dies, some people think they’ll get iruka out of the academy for being trans, but tsunade shuts them down even more severely than hiruzen did, saying gender identity is a fundamental part of one’s health.
  • tsunade secretly invites iruka to assist on sakura’s training sometimes so he can learn better chakra control to maintain a constant henge and appear more masculine without affecting his stamina so much.
  • iruka is still uchinanchu.

can you imagine how fucked they would have been if rex had actually lost his memory again after the giant robot fight w/ the consortium

‘so uh hey your name is rex salazar, you can make and control machines, and-oh, he’s six, he’s- yes, that’s a strange name, he’s the sixth deadliest man on the planet- we’ll elaborate later, but right now you need to get in that building and stop a bunch of rich people who’ve given themselves the power of gods- with nanites, that’s how- what are nanites? it’s kind of a long story…’ 

and rex is just staring at them like ‘who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you talking about’