just life and such has gotten busy

The Cast of Final Fantasy XV; Criminal AU

I have been watching the hell out of American Horror Story and it actually inspired me to write these. All of the head-canon requests in my inbox are going to get filled, no worries, I just prefer to be a little more thoughtful with the things I write for you guys.

There might be a Part II eventually.

You can find my other head-canons here.

Warning: Mentions of drugs and homicide.

Noctis Lucis Caelum 

  • Mass Murderer. The ‘sloppy homicide.’
  • Noctis has a lot of curiosity when it comes to how much blood there is inside of a person and if you happen to be in his line of sight, not only are you unlucky, but you’re not having that open casket. 
  • He’ll absolutely mutilate you, and it’s not because he wants to, he’s just messy with his kills and really doesn’t have a premeditated plan. He must get in, kill, and get out as quickly as possible.
  • His main goal is to see you bleed and it doesn’t matter what method he uses, so long as he gets to watch the light fade from your eyes. 
  • He got caught right away, but his numbers were high, double digits within the same twenty-four hour period and residential area. He wore no gloves or protective clothing and did not bother to cover his tracks, it just wasn’t on his mind.
  • Arrested in a bloody Mario Kart shirt; Prompto was so disappointed, it could have been a better game. 
  • When he was questioned about why he murdered innocent souls, he simply replied that it was because he was ‘bored.’

Gladiolus Amicitia

  • Drug Connoisseur. The ‘good bad guy.’
  • Definitely not into drugs, but he’ll sell them if it makes him the cash. After his father died, he had to take care of Iris all by himself and got into a rather dark business - but he is good at it and that’s all that matters to him. 
  • He knows most drugs inside and out and - for the most part - and he isn’t ashamed that he does; it’s a part of his business to be smart and educated about his product. He runs a rather diverse network and is careful to keep himself hands-off, as it is important to him to protect his own legality in order to protect his sister. 
  • The guy will sell to anyone, but kids are a no-go; Gladio isn’t that type of man.
  • If he has to come personally, you’re either a major money client or in big fucking trouble. Gladiolus won’t kill your family, he won’t lay a hand on you, but he will ruin your life and you will never recover. 
  • From the outside looking in, he lives a normal, care-free life. He’s a happy man and he lives lavishly, making sure everyone that he loves can enjoy a good time as well. 
  • Donates to cancer research. 

Ignis Scientia

  • Con Man. Fulfills the ‘perfect crime.’
  • Everything is carefully planned, victims chosen by meticulous research and study, not a single action is performed without having been first drawn in blueprint.
  • He’s a master of fooling you into love and out of your well earned cash; if you get in his way, he has no problem snuffing you out and will leave behind not a bit of evidence.
  • He goes by many names and you wouldn’t know him by his original - the papers all say that man is dead.
  • This guy steals both money and life away just for the thrill of picking your brain and finding out what makes you tick before he takes away everything you have.
  • Ignis lives life the way he always has, with grace, cunning, and houses in more countries than you could visit in your poor, tasteless lifetime.
  • Don’t think he hasn’t been in love, in fact, he still is - with the only man to turn him on his own game, Ravus Nox Fleuret. His beloved supplies him with many of the tools needed to make a swift getaway. 
  • Only diamonds on these hands, boys.

Prompto Argentum

  • Arms Trafficker. The ‘I do it for the fame.’
  • Looking for a bit of contraband weaponry? Perhaps you’ve been dying to get your hands on ammunition the government has locked up tight. Whatever your gunmetal desires are, Prompto will provide.
  • Prompto is a smart man, went to school for business, but he decided the real money and names were where the deals weren’t made legally.
  • It started out as him just helping a friend, he wasn’t for a real crime scene, but after a few hangups, he just slid into the life - convinced it would make him famous, and it did.
  • The guy’s never murdered anyone, but man, does he love showing off his guns if he’s threatened and he’s got the right air to make people believe he’d pull the trigger.
  • Has killer aim and has gotten into a couple of scuffles, but he never shoots to kill, only hinder a man if he’s being chased down. And boy, is he always getting chased down.
  • Supplies several underground groups and their enemies.
  • Goes by the street name: Metal Chocobo. It never stuck (and never will), but fuck him if he stops trying.

Ravus Nox Fleuret

  • Black Market Specialist. The ‘scientist.’
  • Ravus wanted badly to become a chemist, at first, but waking to his sister not breathing in her bed - it spiraled into something a bit more sinister. He was fearful of her leaving him alone with nothing and the idea of preserving a part of her was more tempting than anything else; he stole her heart, keeps it in a jar.
  • Eventually, he had to flee home, as he was accused of murdering her. He is currently a wanted fugitive. 
  • Keeping the organ had only made him want for more and more he received, as ridding the streets of the less fortunate was an easy and inconspicuous task - and when he realized the money that was to be made from fresh parts in the underground, he did well to ease himself into the business.
  • This man has a silver tongue and brilliant mind, he can get himself into and out of any situation given his desires.
  • He was nearly conned once, but after turning the situation around, he not only fell in love - but they became an unstoppable force and lived a life of dreams. 

Iris Amicitia

  • Burglar. The ‘now you see me, now you dont.’
  • She’s quick and deadly, having all of the tools of the trade in order to get in and out undetected; her agility and intelligence are unmatched by any in her profession.
  • Gladiolus gladly supports her and she supports him, however, they’ve agreed that if either of them gets caught, they bear no relation to one another. No one will attempt to save the other out of the fear of them both going down.
  • Iris lives a perfectly normal life outside of thievery, she has never once been caught and her identity has yet to be revealed. She pursues a degree in teaching and plans to leave the life behind once she takes a position as an educator. 
  • She doesn’t really know why she got into the life of stealing, she doesn’t consider it a good thing and Iris would never blame her brother for influencing her decisions. It was just easy and she is able to give back to charity despite the means in which she does so. 
  • Donates to scholarship and education programs.

Loqi Tummelt

  • Data Hacker. The ‘I did it for love.’
  • If he is the one behind the screen, your identity and money is his, as well as all of your secrets.
  • He used to work for the government, but defected - no one knows of his whereabouts and he prefers to keep it that way, even with his greatest clients.
  • Mechanical master; he builds all of his own computers from scraps and has no issue leaving them behind if someone is on his tail. Wiping the databases and scramming is an easy task bereft of his fingerprints; he will replace everything himself, as starting from scratch is easiest.
  • In all honesty, Loqi wants to be noticed, wants to be caught - particularly by a cop named Cor Leonis, whom of which he’s been in love with for nearly a decade. 
  • He’s been with Cor for years and was feeling that they were going to fizzle out if he didn’t do something drastic. The lingering touches were becoming rare, the soft words, nearly non-existent. Loqi cannot stand it, he wishes to be desired as he used to be.
  • Now, he’s on the run and his longtime flame is chasing after him like never before.

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not like this

A/n: Not requested, and I have no idea where this idea came from, but I’m just going with it. I also don’t have a reason why I created an ofc instead of making her y/n, but I hope you enjoy this anyway. Its mostly comfort!Shawn and fluff.

Originally posted by tess453


Kaylee’s phone buzzes with a text, but she’s too busy crying to bother checking to see who texted or what they wanted. It’s been one of those weeks. Those long, draining, taxing weeks. She doesn’t have the emotional capacity to even exist right now, even though its only four in the afternoon. Her phone buzzes again, and then again a few minutes later. Finally out of frustration over the incessant buzzing, she reaches over to grab her phone and glance at the screen. “Come over?” Was his first text five minutes ago. Three minutes ago, he sent another, “?” Then a minute ago he sent, “Kaylee?” He wants to fuck. That’s their code. Those two words through text. 

Her initial reaction was to respond with a simple, “I’m busy.” Because she knows that if she said that he would leave her alone and find some other way to deal with it himself. Its all a part of the system they have going on. No strings attached, no prioritizing. If one of them wants to fuck but the other’s busy then thats it. They’re not allowed to question, not allowed to tease or try to persuade. Its all a part of the complicated network of unspoken rules they’ve developed over the past eight months.

Although she was certainly not in the mood, something stopped her from immediately replying that she was busy. The idea of using him to forget about the shit she has going on in her life appealed to her. She has never been one who liked to deal with her feelings, specifically, she never liked feeling her feelings, so this would be a good distraction. Honestly, at this point, she would accept anything that would get her mind off of the fact that her life feels like it is falling apart.

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Oh ALSO nobody’s dreams are interesting to other people but I still would like to document that last night I dreamed I was at a convention, hanging out between panels, and someone pointed me out to Robert Downey Jr. as “the guy who does the Advice posts” and he sidled up to me and just started giving me shitloads of advice. Like right there in the aisle of a panel room, RDJ, telling me how to live my life.

I wish I could remember anything he told me, I’m sure it would have been useful and worthwhile. He’s only fifteen years older than I am and yet has gotten through a lot more living than me. 

I’m pretty sure some of it was about business cards? Or maybe how to choose a really good backpack. 

good grief - ong seongwoo


word count: 2997 words
summary: ong seongwoo and his friends are infamous throughout your university. you don’t care for him, but fate seems to have other plans for the two of you, and you find yourself meeting in the most unlikely of situations.

  • okay so you’re in your sophomore year of uni right
  • and the college you go to isn’t particularly big, 
  • but it’s not so small that nobody has ever heard of it
  • basically, it’s the perfect size for gossip to spread around easily……
  • and BOY does it spread

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If Dean doesn’t go to Jody in Season 13 for that bowl of chowder, I’m going to scream!! 

Dean shows up all by himself. A little scruffy, his hair a little too long and his body too skinny for his now too baggy clothes. Her first instinct is that something terrible has happened to Sam. But then with a pinging of her mobile and a text from Sam asking ‘is my brother there?’ it’s not Sam. Then her next thought is Mary - of course it’s Mary- she’s only just appeared back in his life and it’s gotten too much for him. 

Without talking, Jody sits him down on the sofa, gives him a coffee, and busies herself with making dinner. 

She tries to get him to talk, but he doesn’t. He eats his bowl of chowder without commenting on whether it’s good or not. When he’s finished, she grips his hand in hers- egging him to talk- and the tears begin to finally roll from his dull green eyes. 

He’s gone… He barely whispers, his words getting trapped in his throat.  

She instantly knows who ‘he’ is, but she remains quiet, waiting for him to get the strength to continue…

That is all I want from Season 13. Just give me Dean and Jody! Give me Dean spilling his feelings over Cas with Jody! Hating himself for being so emotionally constipated and telling her about Cas plainly stating his feelings over-and-over again; being his human weakness, promising to be with him till the end, destroying heaven, going to purgatory, pulling his arse out of hell, dying for him time-and-time again. 

I don’t even have to have the entire scene; just give me the notion that it happened. 

Buzzfeed Unsolved - Supernatural: Season 2 quotes pt. 2

  • “Give that baby a basketball.”
  • “Why someone who choked on a peanut doesn’t get to be a ghost?”
  • “So you think 90% of the people who have stepmothers are like ‘aww my stepmother, I’d like to bury an ax in her face.’?”
  • “I feel like a fancy little lord in this room.”
  • “I’m not doing this because I want to steal. I’m doing this because I want to give the ghosts significant reason to haunt me.”
  • “Be the first ghost to murder someone in history. We’ll get it on film, you’ll be famous.”
  • “You know me, I’m a fan of conspiracy theories.”
  • “Spoiler alert: it’s probably aliens.”
  • “Oh man, see now you’re asking the right questions. Now you’re acting like a detective and not like a jackass.”
  • “I bet if George Clooney was on The Tonight Show and you set him on fire, one of his feet would burn, and the other one would probably still be planted there on the floor in a very nice shoe.”
  • “George Clooney is probably very flammable you’re right.”
  • “I don’t trust anyone who says ‘I seen it happen’.”
  • “Can you imagine just being out, having a good night with your pals, drinkin’? And you know, toward the end of the night when you’re like, ‘yeah, what a fun night this has been,” can you imagine just exploding?”
  • “Is it very European to burst into flames?”
  • “Put that pen down you just look like a jackass.”
  • “You have a different standard of ‘cozy’ than normal people do.”
  • “How many people were poisoning each other?”
  • “Everyone’s always like, ‘how could they have done all this? How could they have gone so crazy and killed so many innocent people?’ Well here’s why, ‘cause they’re all insane.”
  • “They were lost in the sauce, that could be the whole footnote of the Salem witch trials.”
  • “The doctor’s not writing prescriptions, he’s just pointing at things and saying ‘yup, that’s a witch’.”
  • “If you had someone practicing witchcraft in this house you would know.”
  • “The ghost sounds a little bit like Lil Jon.”
  • “I think everyone needs a hobby, and if you don’t have one… That’s when you’re probably gonna start killing people.”
  • “It’s a real thing that happened, all those people danced ‘til they died.”
  • “We just never stay anywhere nice.”
  • “I don’t want to kill the vibe, but we could just turn the lights on.”
  • “No, no, no, you’re gonna scare the ghosts away.”
  • “We’ve never ghost busted anywhere.”
  • “A ghost sitcom?”
  • “We can never go back there.”
  • “Shadows do tend to follow you though. That’s sort of how they work.”
  • “You gotta fuckin’ calm down man.”
  • “Ghost 101. One, knock a book off a shelf. Week two, uhh, hold a candlestick in the middle of the hallway. Three… sheets.”
  • “Stop telling the ghosts to follow me home.”
  • “This is one of the best days of my life.”
  • “Dude I thought I saw something fly in front of me.”
  • “Ghost, I’m beginning to suspect you’re not real.”
  • “I’ve just realized what I’ve gotten myself into again.”
  • “You know, a ghost has probably whispered point blank in your ear, but you’ve probably never heard it because you were busy grumbling.”
  • “Are we doing more of this, or can I use the jacuzzi tub we’ve been blessed with.”
  • “We’re just two guys sitting in a tub.”
  • “You make it sound like you’re listening to a recording of Pavarotti.”
  • “Is it Daft Punk?”
  • “The DJs Daft Punk came into out suite at night, and gave me a little diddy, that’s what happened.”
  • “You’re right, it was a ghost marching around for seven hours.”
  • “I never said I wanted to murder you!”
  • “I think you might intellectualize too much.”
  • “So, this is sort of a night out with spirits.”
  • “You look so scared already.”
  • “I’m gonna buy you one of those for Christmas.”
  • “I’m bad at feeling.”
  • “So the takeaway here is… every little sound is a ghost?”
  • “That sounds like a great idea. Let’s lock ourselves in the murder room.”
  • “I think you just wanna see me freak out.”
  • “Why have I never seen the moon’s boner?”
  • “This is the dumbest example you’ve ever given.”
  • “I think the moon having a boner is as realistic as ghosts.”

anonymous asked:

Who's most into PDA and takes the teasing from the boys best/worst?

Depending on the PDA, it’s a tie between Gladio and Prompto for who is the most into it.

Gladio is into full-on displays of affection. If he sees someone getting flirty with you to a degree where you look physically uncomfortable, he’s not above grabbing you in his arms and dipping you low for a mind-blowing kiss. He also likes putting his arm around your shoulder or his hand on your waist, and likes putting his hand in the back pocket of your jeans so he can gently squeeze your ass at the most inappropriate times.

Prompto is the one who likes the more cutesy-type displays of affection like hand-holding and kisses to the cheek. He’s the kind of guy that needs to be reminded that you care for him just as much as he cares for you. If you’re walking side by side and you link pinkies, he’ll be over the moon. He can be a little clingy at times, but really, he’s clingy in the way that an adorable puppy is clingy. You want that kind of warmth and affection around you always.

Noctis is probably the worst at taking the teasing from the guys. All he wants to do is sleep, and sometimes he can’t because the other guys are too busy making fun of him for whatever reason. He knows they do it in good fun, but depending on the amount of hours of sleep he’s gotten the night before kind of dictates how quickly he’s going to snap at his friends. And he swears on his life that it wasn’t him who farted in the car, Gladio and Prompto were just being dramatic for no reason.

Ignis handles the teasing the best, mostly because he has the intellectual upper hand on his other friends. Every time they try to tease him for anything, he just lifts his chin and says something way too smart with way too many words and the others take too long of a pause thinking of a comeback. He also has that demeanour of stoicism that’s definitely to his advantage, so even if something is bothering him or if the teasing is getting too ridiculous, you can never tell by just looking at him. When Iggy tells you to shut up (in more than just two words), you shut up.

After Flash Back, they let Hartley out of the Pipeline to help with Evil!Wells but a part of Cisco just can’t get ‘Holy Harry Potter’ out of his head.

He has to know how deep that wells goes.

He enlists Barry’s help and together they stage of ‘discussion’ within Hartley’s hearing range.

It starts innocently enough, talking about the books and movies and what not, but they keep getting things wrong. It starts off with little things but start escalating to bigger things - mispronouncing Hermione’s name, calling Molly by Holly, etc, before moving onto the ‘Ron was totally a death eater or was going to be one’ and “Snape and Lily should have been together’.

As it goes on, Hartley becomes visibly pained and very determined to try and ignore them.

Then Cisco says ‘The plot to Cursed Child totally made sense.”

Hartley loses it, all but jumping from his seat and starting a rant that lasts 10 minutes, correcting every single thing Barry and Cisco had gotten wrong as well as how much that play makes absolutely no sense but Albus and Scorpius should have gotten together and how dare they.

Once he’s done, he just sits back down with his head in his hands and bemoans that ‘he’s worse than Cisco’.

Cisco has never been happier in his life and if he just so happens to have a HP movie marathon and invites Hartley along, well, that’s his business, isn’t it. its not a date stop laughing barry

Kings and Queens {Ch 7}

Summary: A Throne of Glass AU inspired by the Breakfast Club (1985). Five students come together for Saturday detention, and realize they are not all that different. You can read previous chapters here

Author’s Note: The love I have gotten for this fanfic has been overwhelming! I’m so glad you are all enjoying it, and hope you continue to with this chapter. Let me know what you think, and chapter 8 will be posted soon! :) Enjoy.

Two years before….

I showed up on his doorstep at nearly two in the morning. His parents were away on business, as they usually were.

I rang the doorbell, once, twice, three times, before he opened the door, and gasped. “Aelin?”

He had been sleeping. His hair was a mess, and his voice was tired, but his eyes were wide and alert as he took me in. “What happened?”

My eye was throbbing, so I could only imagine what I looked like.

He pulled me into the house, and into his arms. “Did he do this to you?”

Yes. Yes, he did. I hated him. I hated him, so much. “Can I stay here tonight?”

“You can stay here whenever you need to,” he replied, without any hesitation. “Whenever you want to.”



10:45 a.m.

Discomfort was an understatement.

I could hear his footsteps behind me, his befuddled grunts, his eyes glaring into the back of my head. I wasn’t going to back down, though. I wasn’t going to let him change my plans.

Unfortunately, neither was he.

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the be more chill families

these are all headcanons i sorta have,,, they’re all about family life of each be more chill character. if you don’t like headcanons, you don;t have to read on but!! i think they’re pretty cool. (also if you draw them i love you)

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My Neck, My Back (Peter Maximoff)

this is not at all sexual. it is instead a joke at the pain that comes w being linked to Peter Maximoff

Request:  hi there!! i’m so glad you do soulmate stuff! could u do an x-men soulmate AU with peter maximoff x reader where each other’s soulmate gets the same bruises or injuries the other one does and throughout his life peter has accidentally bumped into things and gotten bruised but he has fast healing so it goes away but when he meets his soulmate (reader) she has tons of scars and bruises and she like “cmon peter really ? at least watch where you’re goin when you speed. damn”

You examine your latest nick, a cut that’d literally split open in the middle of class and started gushing blood.

About ten centimeters long, you’re regretting ever being interested in this dumb soulmate business.

And if there was ever a time when you wanted to self-harm, if even to just make this idiot stop hurting himself, now would be it.

But self-harming is bad and distantly, in a deep, dark recess of your soul, you love this soulmate of yours.

“Ouch! That’s a bad one!” Mrs Emmie winces, dabbing at the cut with a pad of gauze and you grit your teeth. She doesn’t need an answer after all this time. “That soulmate of yours better look out when you find him.”

“I’m gonna make him eat an entire candle.”

She laughs loudly and you hiss as she dribbles some antiseptic onto the gash. “They’re going to deserve it after all this. Dinner candle or one of those witchcraft ones?”

“Oh, I haven’t decided. The dinner ones would be faster to get down but there’s more to those thick black ones witches use,” you say, exhaling a long breath as she pins the bandage together. It’s done. Phew.

“I clipped some razor wire!” Peter announces, bouncing into the nurses office, who sighs and examines the cut.

“At least it’s clean.” He sighs again. “Really, Peter, how is your soulmate supposed to do anything but jail you once they meet you?”

“Oh, they’re gonna love me! I’m quirky and rough and tumble! Everyone loves that.” He laughs, ignoring the look on Nurse Kens face. If anyone is going to love him, it’ll be his soulmate.

Maybe not his dad.

But definitely his soulmate.

A wild scream tears from your lips as burning pain licks up your arms and singes your clothes to your skin.

“Burn in hell, mutant freak!” The running assailant shouts to the wind but you can’t hear him. You can’t hear anything over the roaring pain on your skin and the screams coming from your lips.

“What do we do?”

“Someone stop him!”

“Call an ambulance!”

“What the f*ck!” Peter screams, pain so harsh he nearly blacks out assaulting him. Through blurry eyes he watches welts, blisters and sunken raw patches appear on his arms- wrist to elbow on one side and a watch sized band on the other. Tiny bubbles spot his hands and fingers and he screams again, red tinting his vision.

“It’s okay, we’ve got you. You’re safe.” Someone says and your panicked wheezes slow from race car to police chase. “We’re gonna fix this, okay? First, we need to peel this off though, so it’s going to hurt.”

“Please…” You manage between whimpers and apologies blur through the air, getting lost in your cries.

“It’s okay, Peter! You’re going to be okay!” The professors voice booms through his mind but he can’t stop, his body vibrating, trying to run from the pain even as they strap him down.

“This didn’t happen here-”

“His soulmate…”

“Find them. Now.

The words are distant and he can’t think, can’t understand how he’s never felt this much pain before, like something burrowed its way into his skin and it’s on fire.

“Here we go, we’re going to stop the burning but it’s going to hurt.”

Something wet runs over your arms and you feel a starburst of pain, then relief. Once the liquid stops, the pain returns, steadier and less insistent but still just as biting.

“This girls being transferred.”

“They can’t transfer her!”

“They just did, she’s got to be in the van in twenty.”

“She’s in no condition to go anywhere, I’ve barely touched these burns! Who ordered this?”

“Government. Some branch, they listed a bunch of mumbo jumbo and hit all the key words. It’s out of our hands so either work fast or step back.”


“We’ve got her. Names Y/N Y/L/N and she was at a mutant rally when someone threw acid.”

Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, the name bounces around his skull, worse than pong, and he feels his limbs slowly stilling.

Y/N is his soulmate.

Someone threw acid and it got on her.

The burning in his arms lessens, or takes a backseat, as a pit of rage starts to bubble in his stomach.

She’s on her way, Peter. You’re both safe.”

“God, are these bruises? Where did they come from- are they new?”

“They look like…”

“Yeah. This poor girls in for it when she meets her soulmate judging by all these scars.”

“I wonder who caused them, I mean if they’re tying down her other half… You know?”

“Yeah.” Warm fingers lift your eyelids and a light flashes through your vision. You’re not dying, relax. Something’s stuck in your mouth and you want to gag or spit it out but you’re stuck. Floating, detached.

“She’s a little warm but she seems to be doing okay. Check those burns, see if they’re still cooking.”

A rustling sounds, then a moan hums through your lips as material brushes your wrist and arm.

“We’re good.”


Peter plays dot to dot with your pockmarked arm, drawing a giraffe whos markings are your spotted and scar damaged skin.

It’s cute and artistic, sure.

It’s also your burned and ugly arm.

“What the hell are you doing, jeez?” You hiss, snatching your limb from his grip and he whines, watching you with a puppy gaze before he’s zipping away.

Seconds later, a sharp scratch tears across your cheek bone and you hiss, your fingers reaching up and coming away with a touch of blood.


“You called, babe? Oh, crap! Branch smacked me in the face.” He grins, holding out a wind crushed flower, and you can’t help pausing in your fury to get up and examine the delicate cut on his face, ignoring the offering all together. The cuts not terrible and there’s no blood on his yet.

“Stop that!” You snap, glaring at him ferociously. If only you could just shove him or something but you’re delicate and what hurts him hurts you.

Stupid literally.

“Stop running without thinking! It hurts, jerk!” You feel tears well up, years of pent up frustration surfacing all at once and his bright expression drops.

“Y/N,” he whispers, voice desperate as he hesitantly reaches for you.

“No!” You snap, stepping out of his grasp. “You hurt me and didn’t care! I was always careful because it wasn’t just my body! It’s not just your body, Peter, it’s mine!” You’re shouting now and his shoulders are hunched, expression downcast in the face of your onslaught.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he says, nervously wavering toward you and away. You stand like that for a moment, Peter apologetic and confused, your rage filtering away to leave a pit of pain.

“Now I want a hug!”

“Sorry!” The word is whipped away in the speed of his movement, his arms around you in under a tenth of a second, your head cradled to his chest while he presses a flurry of kisses to the crown of your head.

“And slow down.”

“Sorry,” he says again, movements slowing obviously as he smooths your hair from your face and rubs slow circles over your back. “I didn’t… I never meant to hurt you. It never occurred to me, like I knew you got what I got, but it never sunk in.”

“I was never real,” you say, and the way he tenses around you tells you it’s true. “It’s okay, I understand. You weren’t really real to me either, just… You were someone who kept hurting me, like in the middle of a soccer game when you burned your mouth something awful and I stood there for an entire minute just fanning my empty mouth.”

He laughs, softly, and guides you toward the couch you’d been on moments ago.

“I remember that, I think. Tell me more times I ruined you day.”

You laugh, letting him take your hand again, his thumb circling on your palm. “Like the time I was taking my driving test and in the middle of traffic, my ankle broke? I could thank you for that one considering I passed when I managed to get the instructor and I safely out of traffic while I screamed in pain.”

“Yeah, don’t thank me,” he says, cringing and you laugh.

“Or the time Mum was about to let me finally have a puppy and I burst out with twelve cuss words right in her face because something happened to my ass and when I looked, there were cuts and burns all over it.” You raise your eyebrows at him this time, the implication obvious and he is the one to laugh now.

“It’s not… Scott bet me I couldn’t sit on a grille for two minutes straight. He didn’t tell me there were nails on it either,” he shrugs and you stare, your jaw dropped. Your soulmate is an idiot. “I probably should have found you earlier, your expressions telling me I’m an idiot.”

“Oh, no!” You coo and he frowns a little, “you’re a straight up train wreck with a moronic captain and 206 innocent passengers, most of which have soft children.”

“Why 206? And soft children?”

“Your bones and organs, idiot.” You groan and he snorts, affection shining on his face.

i hooooope this was what you wanted (sry if it’s crapola)


So… many… kids!

Good morning, and welcome to this rare early morning blog post. It’s been 3 weeks since I last posted something, and also since I even visited the blog. But like I mention pretty much every time I come back, then we’ve been busy; life is busy with six children, and I think my beloved loyal readers have gotten used to only seeing one new blog post a month. I haven’t been much on social media, so even my twitter account has been pretty inactive, and my involvement in the group chats I’m in, have been pretty much.. none. We’ve pretty much been traveling back and forth, from Saint Greer to Ériu Fé, almost every single day, so I haven’t had much time to just sit down and relax. But it seems that Damian has warmed up to the idea of moving, so I’m quite excited to hear his final decision.

MOVING ON! It was wonderful weather for an outdoor playdate last week, so I teamed up with Micah’s parents, and we decided to meet with all the kids. My children were very excited to spend the entire day with their best friends. Naruto and Sasuke have adopted two older children, in addition to welcoming little Mialyn to their family, and all the kids get along so well! Emily and William didn’t hesitate, and immediately added Otto and Logan to their growing list of friends, and they already act like they’ve known each other since forever.

Being only three adults with ten kids (Damian had to work), you can definitely say we had our hands full. At times it felt like we were only two adults, as a certain someone *cough* could easily be mistaken for one of the kids, haha. Luckily, the older ones are a little more independent, and didn’t mind lending a hand, and help look after the little ones. Mialyn was sleeping most of the time, like newborns do, but that didn’t save me from starting to miss having a baby in the house. You would think the crying and stuff would make me feel differently, but I already have Lumi, who takes care of that, and makes sure my house is never quiet. She even demonstrated just how loud she can scream at the playdate, and I’m sure everyone had fun with that. I would be lying if I told you my kids aren’t crazy! 

I’m happy the weather was good for the entire day. It was still pretty warm outside, when we said goodbye and parted ways in the evening. I also took like a million photos, so I’ve tried to pick only the best ones! I hope the weather will continue to be amazing, and to have another playdate in the near future.

Not My Recital...

This has been sparked by a post I’d made HERE, which was then followed up with a reblog by @yourtropegirl HERE

Originally posted by ruuuzek

Earlier that month~

“How’s Jessie?”

When she heard her daughter’s name, Amanda perked a brow, and nearly dropped the paperwork she had been handling. “What?”

“Jessie,” Rafael was leaned against a desk, thumbing through a file. “You said she was sick, how is she?”

“Oh;” Apparently she’d gotten too wrapped up in work, she had completely pushed her precious baby from her mind. “She’s doing well, is with Kim-”

“Your sister, right?”

“Yea,” Amanda actually grinned, happy to indulge the brief conversation about her personal life. “She’s still staying with me, so it works well with the baby- Jessie really loves her.”

Matching her smirk, Rafael nodded, “I’m happy to hear that, family is important.”

“Absolutely,” despite how much she’d love to keep talking about her daughter, Amanda’s nose crunched, and she threw a couple devastating photos of unfortunate young women atop the file he was holding. “Barba, do you see what I see?”

He exhaled, sharply, “A dead fifteen year old?”

“Right, but look closer…”

Rafael grunted, narrowed his stare, and tried not to consider how he would much rather be discussing absolutely anything other than this…

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You Just Had To Ruin The Moment.

Originally posted by celebrities-imagine

Warning(s):None, unless you count me shitting on Alexander’s gross Bjorn beard

Note:I am still taking request! This imagine can be found on my Ao3.

Requested by an Anon:” Can I ask for an alexander ludwig imagine? where Gyda DIDN’T die (RIP) and YN is the actress who plays an older Gyda and her and Alex become an item and the fans love them together? “

You are waiting to be called onto set, about to shoot a scene with Alex Høgh Andersen. You play grown up Gyda, Ragnar and Lagertha’s daughter. Through the seasons and episodes Gyda has became healer of a sort. Although you play a sister to Alexander, Jordan, Marco, David, and Alex, it is safe to say you are closest with Alexander. Over the years of filming and playing close siblings together, you and Alexander had also grown close. Everyone knows of you two being close, but no one knows that you two are in a relationship. You guys don’t like hiding your relationship, but you both feel as though it is best as of right now.

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Geometry - Part 3

A/N -  Yes, it’s rough.  But it’s here.  Whatever. ;)


The morning following their mother’s death, Katniss is up well before dawn, climbing over her sister to get out of bed without waking her.  When she sees me wide awake on my make-shift floor bed watching her- because I can’t not watch her- her nostrils flare as she glares at me. But she might be angry at a lot of things aside from, or even instead of me, like fate, and I’m used to being on the wrong end of anger from my mother anyway so I do what I usually do, cast my eyes down and make it clear I know I don’t matter.

I listen as she tends the fire and then creeps into the bedroom where their mother’s body is.  When she comes out, her back is to me, so I let myself watch her again.  She’s dressed now, out of her sleeping gown and in her usual trousers and tunic.  She immediately slips out the front door.

I get up and fold my bedding, and then set it on a chest in the corner.  I don’t know what to do with myself next.  Work is already starting at the bakery, and I know I could easily use that as an excuse to disappear myself, but that doesn’t seem right: While it might relieve Katniss to find me gone when she comes back, I worry about Prim waking up alone.  

So instead, I light a candle-lantern and explore the kitchen as quietly as possible by the flickering light, taking stock of how out-of-stock they are of items and food.  There are some canned goods, but too few and not a good variety.  And there’s no game of any sort, which surprises me since the entire District knows Katniss hunts to feed them.  I wonder if they’re keeping it stored outside in a coldbox, but I’m not ready to go prowling around the back yard in the still-dark. Some of Prim’s cheese is wrapped in wax paper on the counter, and a new batch is hanging suspended over a bowl to drain away its moisture, squeezed and tied into a tight ball of burlap.

Last of all is a small bag of stale rolls.  She hasn’t been to the bakery in four days, so these are the ones Katniss traded squirrels for with my father the last time I saw her.  But there’s half of them left, and they’re on the edge of molding.  I can’t think of why they haven’t eaten the bread, unless it’s because they were too wrapped up in the care of their mother and in grief for what was coming.

At least that’s something I can fix.  

No more trading Katniss’ squirrels for rolls.  

They might day-old or fresh, I don’t care, but from now on I’m bringing them every spare roll and loaf of bread I can find, keep back or steal if I have to from the bakery on the days I work, which I assume will still be seven days a week.

So now they’ll have bread and extra squirrel to eat.

It’s something I can do, because I need to.

It’s something I can do because they deserve it.  No one should go hungry.  Not when pigs get food that humans can eat.

And it’s something I can do to be useful.

I look back to Prim, still buried beneath the covers and little more than a thin lump even though she’s fourteen, and remember the way her eyes would light up and she’d smile whenever she’d stop outside the bakery as a little girl and stare at the sweets she couldn’t afford.

Forget just bread, the Mellark family bakery is going to start sparing more than that, even if I have to pry it from my mother’s iron fists.

I force myself to relax.  Being indignant at my mother, for things I could have, and I should have done out of my own sense of what was right, wasn’t going to fix what was past.

There’s a tin with what looks and smells like mint leaves semi-dried and crushed up for tea, so I figure that’s something to occupy my time.  I take some hot coals from the hearth and coal from the bucket for the cook stove so I can boil some water and make what I can of the rolls and cheese for breakfast.  I hope that I’m not misappropriating a heating resource, but I didn’t see either of the girls eat the night before, and I’m hoping it will be helpful to make sure Prim has breakfast when she wakes up.  

The smell of toasting bread and melting cheese has started filling the house by the time Katniss comes back twenty minutes later.  I’d eventually found lard in a ceramic jar on the counter, and put my limited culinary mind to work from there. I’d coated the bottom of a cast iron skillet with a healthy dose of it, cut up the best of the rolls into halves and compressed them into the pan together, then melted off some more lard to brush onto the top.  I couldn’t find salt, but there’d been dried herbs hanging by bundles in the window, so I’d crushed rosemary and sage over the bread, and then crumbled some of Prim’s cheese over the top and put the pan in to brown and bake.

Katniss stops almost the moment she’s inside and stares, looking from me, to the stove, to the cup of hot mint-water I’d been drinking out of and back again. Even though it’s starting to get light outside, it’s still mostly just candlelight and glow from the fire across the room; it makes her eyes look wide and dark and full of rage.

I shrink on the inside.  Trying to be helpful might’ve looked to her like I was making myself at home.  Or maybe it doesn’t matter; maybe it’s just resentment at my presence at all.

“I’ll, um… I’m going to bring back bread today from hom- from the bakery,” I say, so nervous that my voice cracks at first. “To replace this, I mean.”  

She doesn’t move, and she’s still staring and silent, only she’s boring into my eyes with hers.  I cough because of my nerves and then fill a second cup with the mint tea and put it on the counter near her, for her.  

“I hope it’s okay,” I mumble.  “I didn’t want her to wake up and be hungry on top of everything else.” I start to apologize, “I didn’t mean to just-”

“It’s… okay…”  There’s a long pause, and then, something unexpected. A “Thank you.”

My head snaps up and I search her eyes.  They look the same.  I feel sure they’re angry, but I can’t reconcile them to the quietness of her voice or the sentiment. We stare at each other for a long time.  I don’t know what I want as I search her eyes.   I’m still in shock.

Prim moans and mutters in her sleep behind us.  Katniss’s attention belongs to her and she’s immediately at the bed and shaking Prim gently from whatever nightmare she’s trapped in.  I watch Prim as the fog of nightmare evaporates when she wakes to Katniss sitting on the edge of the bed comforting her with a smile that…

…A smile that absolutely takes my breath away.

She manages somehow to be genuine in it, even though her eyes are watering.  

These Everdeen women, so strong, so used to surviving with grief.  I feel hollow in my chest for them.  I want to fix it, even though I don’t have the power to.

Prim scoots half into Katniss’ arms and Katniss rocks her and murmurs reassurances to her, half-singing them:

It’s okay, little duck. It’s okay, little duck.  You’re awake, Prim.  

Prim’s fourteen, but something about the way she easily accepts the comfort makes her look young.  

Though it doesn’t make Katniss look old, by any means.  It makes her look… 


I snap my head to stare at my mug.   Thoughts like that are thoughts I can’t afford.

Katniss’ voice continues to sooth behind me, though, the voice a melody.  Katniss-of-few-words.  Katniss-of-scowls.  Katniss-of-survival.  None of those are here, a dozen steps behind me.  The voice is a voice of…

My mind wanders back to when I was five.  The first time I saw Katniss, heard her sing at assembly… My mind stays there, drifting.

“Peeta’s made us breakfast, little duck,” I hear, still in that gentle, loving voice, and it pulls me from the memory of when I first fell in love with the dark-haired little girl, back when I was just an awkward little five-year old boy who thought  treasures like Katniss Everdeen could be had just for being in awe of them.   “Come on, let’s get up and eat. Doesn’t it smell good,” she whispers.

I look back over my shoulder.  Katniss senses my attention and looks up at me. I’d think that maybe they’re meaningless words, but I’ve never in my life heard Katniss say anything meaningless, and her expression doesn’t seem put on.  It gives me some reassurance.  

I nod, busy myself pouring another mug of mint-water for Prim and then moving all three cups to the table, and I’m just opening the oven by the time Katniss has gotten Prim up and sitting at the table.

A rush of heat  comes out when I open the little oven door, and the smell of the food makes my stomach growl.  

And if possible, I feel a little growl of satisfaction- and relief- in my chest when I set it down onto a trivet in the center of their table because the Everdeen women are literally wide-eyed with amazement and sniffing the steam.  Prim tries to pull the smell of it to her through the air with a waving hand.  I haven’t eaten either, and the sight of the bread-and-cheese bake looks even better than what I’d guessed it would.  The bread has turned perfectly golden brown from the effect of the lard, and the cheese itself is bubbling and perfectly caramelized.  The sprigs of the herbs I used almost make it look like a fancy meal.

We all hesitate, awkward. I give a mild swear as I realize I hadn’t pulled out anything for us to eat with, and Prim’s chair scrapes on the floor.

“Sit, Peeta.  I’ll do it,” she insists with enough intensity and desire to help that I do.

Katniss and I avoid looking at one another as Prim flits around us, laying out the plates.  For some reason, maybe trying to grasp normalcy after the day and night before, Prim makes a big deal of it and Katniss and I wordlessly agree to go with it for her sake.

“We need to say grace,” Prim says as soon as she sits.  

I look back and forth between them.  We don’t say grace in my house and I’m not sure what the protocol is.  I remember my father saying it sometimes, when I was very young, but my mother doesn’t like it and at some point it stopped.

“You do it,” Prim says to Katniss.  

Katniss’ eyes catch mine, and she looks uncomfortable.  Prim gives a frustrated whimper, on the verge of tears. Yes, this breakfast is her attempt at fighting off the dark.  

So Prim starts on her own.

“Thank you for this drink, and the food we are about to eat.  Thank you for brining Peeta in our time of need-” Katniss and my eyes catch even though our heads are bowed, and I think I read panic there.  I can’t feel hurt by it, because I feel panic myself. “And thank you for…” Prim starts to break down, but she pushes through, “Thank you for our parents, even though they are gone.”

She says amen and Katniss quietly echoes it to show solidarity.  

The question of how to dish up is answered without my having to ask; Prim says I cooked it, I serve it.

I wipe my hands on my trousers, my palms sweaty, but then obey.

anonymous asked:

Okay I ❤️ the ballroom dancing AU! Supercorp + Your Song (Rita Ora)

ah thanks! so much! also this song is now one of my favorites ;)

She doesn’t mean to start sleeping with her best friend.

Lena leans against her balcony railing and tries not to shake too much as she lights her cigarette, shaken from both the chill of the autumn air and the overwhelming memory of what happened last night.

Kara’s still asleep. Lena inhales smoke and tries not to stare, but it’s hard not to. Facedown on the bed, back bare, sheets hanging low by her hips—Kara is more relaxed than Lena’s seen her in a while.

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RP Connections!

Hi Friends!

Up for a Round 2 in poking out for RPs! For my downtime when I love writing stories with others, I’ve learned I can’t manage as many alts for rp as I dink around with on the pve-end of things. As much as I want to put love and depth into every tale I write with folks, I just can’t across 4-5 characters! Life has gotten quite busy for me in a great way! Though for what characters I have, I don’t mind continuing what I have established for alts! <3

A Little about Me!
My internet handle is Shadottie. I draw a lot– as it’s my job and passion in life! I draw folks’ characters, stories, and I hit a con-circuit every year with my boyfriend. <3  I’m even working on an artbook! Wow!

Sewing plushies and collecting pocket-watches are a couple of other hobbies of mine. I also love sharing, writing and collaborating on stories.  Roleplay has been a wonderful avenue for that!

Meet Nenia Reihnolh

My Main, my darling, flustering White Mage that does her best to function beyond doing what actually she does best in being your token-medic! 

A catlady working out some existential issues after living under the glamour of a hyur up until the Warrior of Light and Ishgard took the fight to Nidhogg’s Horde (Circa: Patch 3.1).
Nenia was a once powerful Hearer that’s been stripped of her magical prowess by literal soul-shattering circumstances. She’s a gentle thing and empathetic sweetheart that takes comfort in healing and taking care of others above all. She may have a weakness for men in armor– often fantasizing what heroic deeds they may have done above any other attraction.


  •  Give me abrasive grumps to melt their cold hearts with her kindness.She can be JUST as stubborn.
  •  Fellow Conjurers/Gridanians that may be disappointed in her, or, quite possibly admire her for attempting a break on tradition.
  • Your character’s aether-sensitive? What the hell are they looking at when they see Nenia’s aether makeup?
  •  Magic mixers - Nothing triggers her more, but she’s doing her best to find optimism in them!
  •  Your character is injured! She’ll make sure they’re okay!
  •   Her puppy won’t stop sniffing your character. They must have a toy? or treats??

I’m up for all kinds of RP– adventure, drama, silly-times, shenanigans, mature topics (to a degree, I avoid sensitive topics such as torture and drug abuse, lets chat up for clarification!), and more.

I’m a sucker for fluff and bonds between characters, but it’s not a focus for me at all. If characters grow close, cool!  I love to see these bonds grow through action in situations and adventure, than rping dates, courting and whatnot.  Nothing against it! I don’t like focused writing in those scenarios!

Hit me up if you want to RP with me!  Nenia’s been hanging around in the Far East due to charges against her friends and their business. I want to meet you on my shy girl!

Things have been crazy busy in my life recently but this is an apology post. Yesterday my boyfriend told me that I have been getting submissions for a long time and I disagreed with him…turns out I’ve just never checked, so I apologize to everyone who has never gotten a response to legitimate questions, I’m technologically immature. 😅 (also I have way too many messages so I also apologize for that because I won’t be responding, I don’t have the patience to try to get through them all 😁)