just sort of an idea

Sometimes I like to think about what utter awkward dorks Harry and Draco are.

Like come on guys Harry has no chill he is not suave. Can you imagine him trying to flirt with Draco in 8th year? Just sort of brash and bumbling but sincere and Draco has no fucking idea what to do with himself.

Because let’s be honest this is Draco Malfoy the boy who climbed a god damn tree to make fun of Harry so if you try to tell me in 8th year is suddenly suave and cool and a perfect flirt just…no.

More likely he does something equally awkward and ridiculous (but for the first time in his life utterly sincere) and Harry just stops dead in his tracks when he walks into his dorm room and sees it covered in hundreds of secret admirer letters.

And Harry just stands there shell shocked when Draco walks in (because it’s 8th year so of fucking course they are dorm mates) and Draco is not so subtly pretending to read his potions book.

“What’s going on?” Draco asks trying to sound smooth, and desperately hoping he isn’t blushing.

“What the hell did you do, Malfoy?” Harry asks, starting to laugh when Draco drops his book in surprise, staring at Potter with wide eyes.

“I was joking,” Harry says quietly, staring at Draco with an unreadable expression.
“Did you really do this?”

“Don’t let your ego get too big Potter it was just a-” but Draco doesn’t finish his sentence because Harry is suddenly standing in front of him, his own face flushed and confused and before Draco can stop himself he’s grabbing Potter’s tie and tugging him forward into a kiss that’s equal parts desperation and perfection.

anonymous asked:

you did it with Ryan, and kind of mentioned it with the one about them being kids on Los santos at the same time but could you consider team nice dynamite being a thing before the fahc?

What a horrifying catastrophe. Not so much terrifying rumour as neon warning sign; the epitome of collateral damage, less interested in taking over the world than they are burning it to the ground.

They met when they were almost painfully young, when Gavin comes all the way to America to work with a crew only to find that they’d misrepresented themselves. Had sold him on a single job, with the possibility of discussing more work, when in reality they had no intention off letting him go. It’s a big gang, nasty, and while they covert his talents they clearly think Gavin is otherwise more or less harmless; quick and clever but easily cowed. There’s an argument, some unfortunate unpleasantness, then a week or two of waiting for some violent action, some futile stand. When it doesn’t come they know they’ve got him, crew leaders more smarmy and self-satisfied than ever as Gavin slinks about the base with drooping shoulders and a permanent guard.

Michael had been working with the crew, not really a full member yet – they were stringing him along, making him prove himself over and over and he wasn’t exactly rushing the process along. He’d gotten involved without knowing enough about them, young and eager to make his mark, only realising his predicament when it was too late to just walk away. It’s not the way things are done with this kind of crew, and Michael resigns himself to hunting for someone bigger and badder to align with or risk catching a bullet to the back of the head.

Michael didn’t know what was happening with the British kid until the fallout, and honestly he didn’t really care. Made him respect the crew less, made him more eager than ever before to trade up and get gone, but he’s no one’s hero and anyone dumb enough to take an offer from Los Santos at face value, swallow the promise of some kind of utopian partnership from strangers across the sea, deserves what they get. The fact that Gavin seemed interesting, weird and bright and funny before the carpet was pulled out from under him definitely doesn’t haunt Michael’s thoughts. Doesn’t make him consider breaking them both out – he can’t go carrying deadweight after all, and anyone who crumbles this quickly will never be an asset. It’s just sad really, kind of pathetic, and Michael does his level best to stay away from him. Doesn’t want to watch Gavin shrink into an obedient shadow, or worse, make a friend only to abandon him in this hellhole when the opportunity to leave finally presents itself.

What he failed to anticipate was the fact that Gavin doesn’t fold like a house of cards, doesn’t resign himself to a new life or kill himself trying to get away. He doesn’t even make a quiet escape, slip out in the dead of night when even his guards are asleep, oh no. This, it turns out, would be America’s first taste of Gavin’s furious wrath, and they couldn’t have been less prepared.

Having kept himself apart Michael was the only one who noticed it happening, the only one who recognised the source of the slow destabilisation of the crew, the surprising origin of countless petty fights and ever growing tempers. He watches Gavin’s idle chatter seep out, tracks the path of poisonous rumours as they spread throughout the crew, and says nothing. Gavin turns harmless words into knives, bows his head to hide a vicious smirk as he talks the crew into gutting itself and Michael, who tried so hard not to look, suddenly can’t look away.

Bringing down the leaders doesn’t take all that much, in the end; when there’s nothing connecting them but violence and power there is no true loyalty, they’re each as paranoid and selfish as each other and all too willing to believe the others might plot against them. It was terrifying, morbidly beautiful, but not quite enough. Not when they’re armed and Gavin isn’t, free when Gavin isn’t, not when eventually they’re going to put two and two together and maybe Gavin is prepared to go down with this ship, die knowing they cannot recover from what he made them do, but Michael’s not done yet. More than ready to stop sitting on the bench, to exercise his itchy trigger finger, not quite prepared for the most interesting thing thats ever happened to him to end so soon.

It’s not even that difficult, really, not with the whole crew fractured and dwindling, when everyone’s too busy pointing fingers at each other to look for threat from the distant outsider. Michael’s let them think little of him for far too long for them to worry about him now, and it’s the last mistake they’ll ever make. What Gavin ruined Michael destroys, neatly foreshadowing the future of their partnership.

The two stay together even once they leave, recognise each other for what they are, kindred souls, matching violence in their smiles, chaos in their blood. The flame and the gasoline, inseparable once combined, delighting in devastation. The reckless carelessness of youth combined with near heartless violence results in a dangerous kind of confidence, flippant and self absorbed, interested in nothing outside their own amusement, refusing to accept the possibility of any line they shouldn’t cross, any difficulty they cannot overcome. What could stop them now that they’re together? What could anyone do but get out of their way? Gavin talks them into fortunes, Michael tears them out of trouble and they both revel in the mayhem they leave in their wake. Relish the ability to do whatever they like whenever they like with no unwanted master pulling their strings.

Not that no one is interested; their reputation precedes them and everyone from big crews to wanna-be somebodies have recognised their potential. Bar some serious behavioural issues they’re basically the dream team if anyone could keep them. Clever, violent, entirely amoral and quick on their feet, appealingly loyal and young enough that they should have been easy to manage if only they could be convinced to care about anything outside of each other, outside of playing and performing and planning the next wild adventure.

It almost shakes them apart, sometimes, that need to do something drastic. Something grand and unforgivable, cataclysmic. Chasing after any flashy thing that catches their attention, forever wanting bigger and more thrilling but lacking any real direction. It has them at each others throats as often as not but they always pull it together in the end, unshakable affection winning out over frustration every damn time, and woe to any who tried to capitalise on their momentary troubles. Who try to pull one away, encourage the rift, who think this priceless opportunity rather than a minor bump in the road.

The more harmless opportunists, the ones who just try to sell their own grandeur, to recruit Michael and Gavin, or worse, one or the other are merely jeered out of the room, left confused and humiliated but still whole. Those who try to contain them, restrain them, pull them back to some degree of responsibility for their actions and force them into deals they have no interest in complying with are simply torn apart. Left as warning, as promise, a reminder that for all their inexperience, their aimless wandering and lack of allies, Michael and Gavin are the furthest thing from harmless.

It’s not that they’d never work with another crew, theres something to be said for a steady home, for someone else to watch your back, to plan your attacks, its just that they have a hard time trusting anyone else. A hard time believing that joining a crew won’t land them right back where they started, that any boss would truly understand that loyalty can’t be taken by force, that allegiance needn’t look like subservience.

So when the infamous Ramsey comes along and offers them a job they turn up their noses, bare their teeth and laugh in his face. When he offers again they try to disappear, ghost away like they have countless times before. When he tracks them down regardless they take out one of his safe-houses in explosive retribution. He comes back and they taunt him, sharp words and defensive sneers. Still again he returns, to threats, to violence, to childish graffiti and a layer of furious distrust coating possessive fear. They push and shove and snap and snarl and do everything in their power to chase him away and every time they think they’ve managed he turns up again, unnervingly mild mannered and relentlessly insistent. He offers and is met with complete disbelief, offers and is met with a million and one questions, he offers and somehow winds up in a negotiation that costs him his car and all the cash in his wallet with nothing in return. Geoff offers more than a job, offers a home, a family, a surprising tolerance for their many quirks; he lays all his cards on the table and lets them try to shred him apart, faintly amused but never condescending. He offers and offers and offers but never takes, never forces, never even alludes to the fact that he could, the way his position of power is so disproportionately greater than theirs. Geoff offers, and in the end they say yes.

just saying if you believe

• ppl can use the lesbian label as a joke
• ppl can use the lesbian label when they are willingly and happily in a relationship w men/can happily be in a relationship w men
• the lesbian label means anything other than the exclusive interest btwn women and women aligned ppl to other women and women aligned people

ur a lesbophobe and Stay The Fuck Away From Me

Pure - Chapter 6

Summary: I’m a survivor. At least that’s what someone once told me. He was probably right, which explains a lot about me. Survivors are selfish and despicable, although I think he meant it as a compliment. Problem is, what I’m surviving for is sometimes hard to tell anymore.

A what if Katniss had gone to Cray, alternate Panem story.

WARNINGS: RATED E (I’m not kidding about this one) for language, canon compliant mentions of child abuse, mentions of drug usage, prostitution, underage (17 years old with older partners), mentions of assault, and explicit sexual content. Buckle up. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.


I’m not sure how long I’m out here when the door opens and Peeta’s heavy steps cross the patio before he sits down next to me. I immediately take his hand in mine and search his face for some kind of hurt.

“My brothers say you’re sharpening your battle axe. So who’s the enemy?”

I snort and shake my head. “Shouldn’t we talk about you?”


Chapter 6 is now posted on AO3 and Fanfic.net


We’re just over halfway done with this story and I wanted to thank all of you who’ve taken a risk on this story, given the rather disturbing opening. Hopefully, I can bring it to a satisfying conclusion for you. Since the next three chapters are already drafted, and chapter 7 has already been through the beta process, updates should occur fairly regularly from here on out. Thanks as always to @peetabreadgirl for editing and keeping me on task…even though there’s that one story idea that we’re both just DYING to write/read. ;-)

  • me: *loves Olicity & has hope for reunion* (✿◠‿◠)
  • random olicity-hater #3675: olishitty sucks! you're in denial! they're done! deal with it! (╬ ಠ益ಠ)
  • me: *loves Olicity even MOAR & has ALL THE HOPE for reunion x 1000000* (ノ✿◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
3

BUFFYVERSE + Aesthetic: Spike (for anon & iwanttoseehowitends)

2

i’ve been trying to post a drawing every day so…here’s some lineless practice with allura holding… molten steel? a star? you decide.

drabble: public thrills

so i was going over some stuff in my head last night and this idea just sort of came up so i figured i’d type up a kinda longer drabble/shorter story for you guys. maybe like a precursor to something more with this one. even though this is josh/reader/tyler it’s not part of hourglass. i just thought i’d give yall something fun.

Originally posted by raindun

You stand looking at the whips and handcuffs that lined the wall of the oversized sex shop, not impressed by anything you saw. You had lost Tyler and Josh somewhere by the vibrators, as they mentioned they were looking for something to get you for your birthday; you laughed it off, assuming they were just being their normal, teasing selves. But as you examine a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs, you feel an arm snake around your waist, pulling you flush against a body with a very apparent erection.

Keep reading

4

Favourite Acting Scenes – Even and Isak have their morning after in the kitchen (8.10 part 1)

Known as the scene that revived Gabrielle’s career.

Acting is impossible without some sort of writing, whether it’s a script or just some ideas written down on a napkin. It’s hard to nail people’s actual speech in script writing, however. Millions of different people means millions of different speech. You have to nail the character’s voice, every single time, otherwise the actors will find themselves struggling to find their character in the script. Often scripts return to age-old lines (“you can’t leave me! We belong together!”), that will be cringy to work in for every character, no matter how capable they are. But that’s not the case in this show, not in this scene. So, if the script’s there, it’s good, it’s up to the actors to see how they perform it. And we’ve talked about body language, and about eye contact, but this scene shows how to use your voice to elevate the script. It’s in the intonation, the volume, how you act out the lines.

Isak and Even have had an interesting night, full of craving for each other, to hold each other, to kiss each other, to touch each other; finally, after three weeks, they can. But then, it’s the morning after. Isak is really astonished to hear and see Even in the kitchen, talking to his roommates. He doesn’t say a thing. Even sees him, and greets him enthusiastically.

A bit too enthusiastically.

You hear it in his voice. The intonation in his good morning seems slightly.. off. Not that Even has been an unexcited person until now, but this feels different. It sounds different. It’s as if there’s an extra exclamation point after what he’s saying.

He goes back to his cooking and Noora and Eskild excuse themselves in the most obvious way ever. Isak moves over to the counter, but after Even tells him that he’s made a lot of food, that same slightly off intonation returns again. Which movie? But before Isak or any of the audience can make sense of what he’s saying, he’s already somewhere else in his thoughts. He sounds soft when he makes Isak taste the scrambled eggs, but that harder ‘tablespoon of sour cream’ seems to come out of nowhere.

It’s a moment of silence before Isak begins to speak. He’s quite vulnerable, splits his sentences in the middle to really think about what words to use before he says them. It means a lot to me that you’re still here. I thought you might’ve only come for last night. And Even is able to assure him, even though I don’t think he exactly got Isak’s meaning here.

And here comes an interesting acting choice: what Isak’s saying here is difficult, it’s painful, it’s scary to ask. So once again, Tarjei splits the sentences in the middle, needs to think about what he’s saying here. Until the last sentence. In which he reveals the base of his fears, mentioning Even’s name because he really needs him to hear it. Even, I need you to really listen to me. This is important to me.

As a result, Even listens. His reaction in his voice is significant: he does not look at Isak, but he’s also almost pushing the words out of his mouth. It’s almost staccato. It’s bitterness, it’s anger, it’s frustration because he is so done with that part of his life. Let’s be done with her, Isak. It’s just us. I feel a whole lot more for us. Alright, Isak is done with that part too.

I have never felt.. quite like this.. ever.

Isak is stunned. And he whispers, so softly, only for their own little world to hear that he feels the same.

The tension seems to be broken. There is no hesitance in their speech anymore. Only soft words, teasing words, flirtatious words remain. This is comfortable, this is their private space they’ve created for each other. They’re so fond of each other.

Say it again, Even whispers.

And because they have created their own little, safe world, with only two inhabitants to live in it, no one else is allowed in and they’re not allowing each other to leave either, Isak can say the following with only a breath of sound. It’s barely to be heard, even for the audience.

They both revel in this revelation. This is it.

But, unfortunately, the reason of Even’s intonation in the beginning is still bubbling under the surface. You hear him softly sing along with the song. The words that are sung are more significant for him than Isak realises. Now, he doesn’t use his own words, rather opting for those of the singer.

You make me fired up. There’s nothing that can cool me down. You make everything go up in smoke. There’s no one else I’d rather do this with.

It’s no surprise that this scene was the catalyst for the audience to realise that there was something more to Even than meets the eye. His words don’t seem significant at times, but the way how he is talking can tell us enough. The same goes for Isak’s reluctance but bravery in asking Even the hard questions he wants answered. Words and sentences need intonation and particular speech patterns, and that’s what a good actor can add to a good script.

Previous parts: here.

Stop the idea that...
  • Fenris is quick to anger and is some sort of cruel, hate-filled - raging character that just despises everything
  • That Fenris hates affection - seriously, did you see that end game kiss?
  • Fenris hates every single mage he comes by with a burning passion - because he doesn’t. Listen to his banter with Bethany, especially in Mark Of The Assassin and Legacy.
  • Anders tormenting of him is justified or that Fenris is the one to provoke it. All I can say about that is: listen to their banter, listen to their inflections
  • Along the line of banter - Fenris only calls Anders an abomination once
  • Fenris is broody and perpetually pissed about everything - HE SMILES, LAUGHS, JOKES, and is kind to those who are kind to him.
  • That Fenris hates all of Hawke’s companions - he calls them ‘friends’ all the time (including Anders)

START SPREADING THE IDEA THAT

  • Fenris is a very calm, controlled character
  • Fenris is pretty open about his relationship with Hawke. He wears their crest, a ribbon, says “I am yours” when traveling around, openly shows his jealousy (especially in MOA)
  • Fenris and Anders got off on the wrong foot and they stayed on that foot. Nothing will change that - but just because he doesn’t get along with Anders doesn’t make him a monster.
  • Fenris is smart - smart enough to know when to hold his tongue and when to express his opinion. Honestly, he gives his opinion rather freely and does so with unflinching honesty
  • He is an abuse survivor and because of that he is still coping and may be easily triggered. He’s been hardened because of it.
  • Fenris is a polarizing character, and because of that, most people either love him or hate him - and that’s okay!
TV Troubles


Prompt: Jerome and (Y/N) argue over who gets control of the TV, then the fight turns physical; in the most hilarious of ways…

Warnings: Cursing, fighting, etc.

Authors Note: Yeah I wouldn’t really know what to call this? It isn’t smut or fluff just sort of a funny prompt idea I had? The idea came from a tumblr post I saw giving 100 sentences to inspire imagines, I’ll try to give credit if I can find the exact post. This sentence that inspired this was “I’m sorry I tried to bite you…” Hope you enjoy and as always, requests are always open!

___________________________________________________________

Jerome’s long legs sat comfortably on the coffee table, and his head was thrown back in laughter at the movie he was currently watching. You had just gotten back to the penthouse after a long day practically baby sitting Tabitha and Barbara during a quite strange job at a brothel… needless to say, you were tired as all hell. Jumping over the end of the couch and landing with a bounce, you sat next to Jerome and asked him what he was watching, while simultaneously watching it with him. On the screen it looked to be an older movie, probably made in the 60s or 70s, with a gang of young men dressed in white suites and strange masks beating a poor homeless man because he was singing. Now, being in the maniax, you were very desensitized to violence but come on, it’s a little old homeless man. Jerome said the movie was called A ClockWork Orange, or at least you think that’s what he said; it was kind of hard to understand him when he’s loudly cackling like a hyena.

How is this funny? Jerome is a sociopath, yes, but even from a sociopathic standpoint it’s kind of boring watching a bunch of guys beat up on one man with a few walking sticks. With an eyeroll you steal the remote resting on Jerome’s lap and start looking through a TV guide, and he slowly stops laughing.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?”

“Changing it.” You said with a shrug.

“Yes, I can see that, but why?” He asked with a forced grin.

“Because I’m bored with this movie.”

Jerome faked gasped and put his hand over his chest as if you just insulted him horribly.

“I’m so sorry to hear that princess, I’ll be sure to pass it onto somebody who actually cares!” And just like that, Jerome snatched the remote right from your hands and pecked you on the cheek, as if to mock you. He put the movie back on, and continued on watching as if he didn’t just do a dickhead move. Jerome hasn’t been doing anything all day, you were the one who had to be surrounded by grimy old mean and crying girls in horrible housing conditions just to make a deal for Theo, you deserved some damn TV time, and you were gonna get it.

With a look of determination strong on your face, you lunged for the remote, but just as quickly as you moved, Jerome extended his arm, making the remote just beyond your grasp. His arm wrapped around your waist and pressed your body against his to prevent you both from falling, and your flailing limbs were going in every which way.

“Aw, babe, if you wanted to cuddle you could’ve just asked!” He said with a laugh, and you gave a sadistic smile back. You reached your hand up… and with a pinch… you latched onto his right nippled and twisted…HARD. His shit-eating-grin immediately fell and his eyebrows pinched together in pain as he yelled profanities. His expression made you laugh hard and loud, and his arms pulled back from you waist and went to his chest to “soothe his pain”, while you clenched your stomach from laughing so hard. Both of you rolled over off the couch and onto the floor with a loud thump, Jerome’s body thankfully breaking your fall. Rolling off of him, you started to army crawl to the remote just a few feet away. Jerome sees you reaching for it and grabs your tiny waist with his huge, pale hands, and tries to pull you back.

“Not today Satan!” You yelled as you clawed your way to the remote and finally had it in your grasp. Jerome, clearly not giving up, crawls on top of you, and flips you over on your back. You know, this really isn’t the situation you thought of when you imagined being on your back with Jerome on top of you, but hey, that’s life. Grasping the remote tightly to your chest, Jerome started tickling your sides and stomach, immediately getting you off guard. He knows you hate being tickled!

Bucking your hips you kept trying to throw Jerome off of you, to no avail.

“Jerome!” You gave out a breathy laugh,

“F-Fucking s-stop!” Giggling like a literal maniac, ;), your grip on the remote only got tighter and tighter, and all the while Jerome was over you with laughing like a jubilant child from the reaction you were giving him.

“Give me the remote and maybe I will stop, how’s that sound gorgeous?” He said as he stopped tickling you and brought his face close to yours, so close that you could feel his heavy breathing against your skin. It gave you a funny feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you felt the heat rising in your cheeks. If only he could move his face a bit closer, you’d be able to feel his soft warm lips against yours and- NO! Focus (Y/N), focus! Feeding into his act, you gave him the big doe eyes, and forced yourself to take slow, shallow breaths. With that damn smug look on his face, he thinks he has you fooled. Not today satan, not today. Mustering your strength, you bucked your hips as hard as you could and threw him off you. Jerome jumped up right as you did and grabbed you as you were trying to run away, causing you both to trip and fall over your own two feet, just to land back on the couch. Only this time, you were on top. The position made you laugh a little… damn it (Y/N) chill your (whore)mones! He tried doing the same thing that you did and bucked his hips to the side to try and make you fall off the couch, but your small body sat right on his stomach, completely unmoving. Jerome raised his hands up to your stomach but no no, you knew better the second time around. You hurriedly grabbed his wrists and held them away from you. Well you tried as best you could… it’s kind of hard trying to overpower a muscly, eighteen year old murderer.

“Ha! Bitch you thought!” You laughed in his face when he brought his wrists, with your hand still wrapped around them mind you, up to his face. Your loud cackling turned into a confused chuckle,

“J what the hell are you- WHAT THE FUCK!?” You screamed as you saw Jerome bearing his teeth trying to literally bite your hands off his wrists. You pulled back but he just pulled your other hand forward for him to bite, and every time you tried to let go he tried to tickle your sides again.

“JEROME, QUIT IT YOU FUCKING TROLL!”

You screamed comments and curse words at him but all they did was make him laugh at your distressed state.

“GIVE ME THE REMOTE, (Y/N)!”

“SUCK A DICK, JEROME!”

The yelling only got louder and the name-calling and bickering only got funnier, from an outside perspective that is. The two of you were in this World Star fight about the damn remote and J’s biting problem and it was filled with,‘colorful’ word choices and roaring laughter. Then in the midst of it all, you both hear an authoritative voice ask,

“What the hell is going on here?”

The both of you silence your yelling and laughter to pop your heads up from the couch and see Theo standing there, hands grasped in front of him and a single eyebrow raised in a questioning manner.

Jerome stands up from the couch first, and walks over to Theo, you closely following behind.

“Little (Y/N) here, thought it would be fun to change the channel when I was OH SO OBVIOUSLY watching something already.” Jerome drew out the ‘obviously’ and looked right at you while telling Theo. He turned from Jerome to you and asked,

“Is this true, (Y/N)?”

You kept your head down like a small child being scolded, and rocked back and forth on the soles of your feet.

“Well… Me, Tabs, and Barb just got home from making a business negotiation that, may I remind you, YOU set up. It was gross and smelly and sticky and all I wanted to do when we got back was relax and maybe watch some American Horror Story, but NO! Ginger bitch over here just had to be a big baby-” Jerome cut you off.

“Oh ‘ginger bitch’ that’s a new one.”

“-and he started tickling me and biting me,”

“That I did, that I did.”

“-and you know how I hate being tickled,”

“-her reaction was priceless,”

“-he legit just did it to annoy me and make me give him the damn remote,”

“Wow, good job babe! You figure that one out all by yourself?”

“Okay both of you, enough.” Theo told you both strictly, and made you both shut up real quick. Your face held a look of irritation while Jerome looked like a child trying not to laugh while he was being punished.

“We’re a team; we shouldn’t fight amongst ourselves. You two are my best assets, so I want you both to apologize.” With that Jerome looked right at you and raised his eyebrows expectantly. Ha, he’s funny, he actually thinks you’re gonna apologize first.

“Oooohhh welllll, I GUESS I’ll be the bigger person, even though being the bigger person really isn’t gonna be that hard with this tiny, little thing.” Jerome said with a wink and flicked your ear before you hand a chance to smack his hand away. With an over exaggerated huff Jerome said,

“I’m sorry I tried to bite you…” Theo looked satisfied with Jerome’s apology and from the look on his cocky little face, J was too.

“I’m kind of, but not really, sorry about changing your stupid movie…” You crossed your arms and borderline pouted like a child. Theo praised you both for acting like teammates finally and left the room. Jerome looked back at you with a smile then with a gleeful sounding “Wee!” he jumped over the back of the couch and landed on the cushions, remote in his hands and cruising through the channels.

You stayed in place, slightly annoyed yet immensely entertained over what just happened.

“Come on ya’ big baby; let’s watch Evan Peters shooting up a school.”

Your slight scowl turned into a Jerome-Like grin, and you jumped over the back of the couch, landing with a bounce next to your bitey ginger.

RvB14.17 thoughts

Okay, regardless of the actual content of the episode, I’m just… really excited that they’ve now established Recursion Shenanigans as a Thing?  Every time we’ve seen bits of the iterations in the memory unit before now they’ve all been relatively plausible, standard (hilarious) Blood Gulch scenarios, but now they’ve just told us that pretty much anything is on the table.  

And these adventures are outside the canon continuity, sure, but they still actually happened, at least to Epsilon, and he would remember them because that’s what he does.  There are just so many possibilities!

Just imagine Church in season 12 or 13, hanging out with Carolina and the guys, and then suddenly he remembers Tucker hitting on Lady Grif and getting shot in the lap and he cracks up laughing and can’t even begin to explain why because where do you start.  Imagine that he’s in the armory with Carolina and they’re trying to get something specific from Double-O Donut, who is just running off on tangents about which gun best compliments her armor and Church starts to wonder what Donut would think of the female version of himself and suddenly the conversation isn’t quite so frustrating.  Imagine all the other things that he saw and experienced in that memory unit, the endless scenarios and adventures that keep him occupied on the quiet nights when everyone is sleeping and he remembers exactly why he’s there.

Imagine that as the war progresses and it becomes clearer to Epsilon that he’s not going to last much longer he realizes that these are things that only he remembers, iterations of friendships that mean so much to him that are going to be lost to time.

Imagine, when everything is over and the guys come back from the Staff of Charon, victorious but not celebrating.  They get their messages and their goodbyes (or lack thereof), and Caboose cradles the little chip that’s all he has left of his Best Friend, takes it back to his room, and activates it and…

“Hey buddy,” the recorded hologram says.  It looks away for a second like it doesn’t know exactly what to say, and then this last memory of Epsilon turns back to him and says: “So remember when we first met and you told me all those ridiculous stories about what you and the guys got up to in the canyon?  Well… I thought I might return the favor…”

And there are so many stories.  So many new stories and adventures for him to listen to, to be a part of, and after a while Caboose isn’t even crying anymore. 

Carmilla worries about her tiny human (even if she doesn’t always show it)

Tbh I think what makes me happiest about the discovery of these exo-planets is this hopeful idea of perhaps life having evolved intelligent enough to where perhaps they already have, or will eventually, be able to look into the universe and see us just as we see them. Who knows if we’ll be able to travel that grand amount of distance (40 light years is very far), but it’s comforting to think of life out there staring right back at us across the expanse as we stare back at them, excited, acknowledging each other’s existences. “Hi! I see you! I know you’re out there! I’m so glad to know we’re not alone!”

“…never fall in love with your best friend.”

To Know One’s Heart- Legolas Greenleaf

Originally posted by ginger-girl-world

Pairing: Legolas/OC

Request: This idea just sort of came to me, so I ran with it!

Warnings: None

A/N: I honestly am a little shocked I’ve never written Legolas before considering I used to be so in love with him. BETTA LATE THAN NEVER. I hope this turned out okay…I had to do a lot of googling and research for the bits of Elvish, but even then I’m sure it’s not perfect. I’ll put the translations at the bottom. I also got a little, super tiny bit sappy. But hope you enjoy anyways! :) Let me know what you think!


The sorrow in the air was so thick, it was almost difficult to breathe. I scanned the faces of the men around me, dressed in their secondhand armor and some holding weapons that hadn’t seen the light of day in many years. Their expressions were all so forlorn, the looks of men readying to attend their own funeral. The weight of that sorrow felt like a burden. It was only then that I decided to escape, catching Aragorn’s eye from across the room before slipping out into the corridor.

A few minutes later, I found myself in the small, candle-lit chapel. I was surprised to find it nearly empty. Almost as surprised as I was to find myself there in the first place. I hadn’t prayed for many years. Not since I had been a child. Not since my mother and father were alive. I sat in the first pew, closest to the altar. Most of the candles had melted to nothing more than stubs, casting flickering shadows against the stone walls. I wasn’t sure where to begin, what to pray for. Legolas and Aragorn’s argument still rang in my ears. I had never known Legolas to despair, but he wasn’t wrong. 300 against 10,000. Most of them would die, maybe myself among them.

Keep reading

I had a dream last night that I was playing this post-apocalyptic game where all of the people except you and your crew were turned into horrifying monsters

The way the game worked was it would open to you and your Cool Group of Angsty Survivors and their base is taken over by the monsters. So the whole point of the game is to survive long enough to get to another safe place.

You have four people in a team and you all just. Line up side to side and go in a straight line. You have one gun that does a set amount of damage (other weapons are available instead of a gun and some are pink and sparkly)

The monsters come at you in a straight line and basically, you have to fight them off, walking backwards to make sure you have enough time to beat them

So basically the object of the game would be to figure out how to fight each monster specifically so you go forward more than you go back and make it to a checkpoint

And you’d have this journal you make of every monster you see, with all the info on how to beat them, whether you were the one who fought the monster, or one of the other three players with you

You can play solo, but if three of the four people in your group dies but the fourth one makes it, all four of you can still progress, so single player mode is super hard. Computer players are available but they kinda suck

And as you go along you discover all of the other people have become these monsters, and certain monsters target certain people so there’s only so many monsters you can see on your own

Some monsters may specifically like to target girls over boys. Some may target people under the age of 20. Some may just want to only fight people who have a sparkly pink sword. The more odd the thing is that attracts the monsters, the harder it is to find them

So as you go through the game you have two objectives, get to a safe spot and end the game, or the optional one to keep heading out every day to find new monsters