Legends of Tomorrow | 2.08 | Ray Palmer

I think we can all agree if anyone here looks like a G-man here, it’s me.


i will take this opportunity to not so subtly suggest that “will it beard” could be interesting.

((based on this au bc i literally cannot stop screaming abt it, nsfw under the cut))

“Nice ass,” Levi blurts out without really even thinking, his eyes glued on to the ample curve of Eren’s ass. He just so happens to be laying on his stomach in such a position that causes his boxers to hitch up a little, exposing the lovely crease where his round buttocks meet the softness of his thighs. Honestly, he’s just lazing around in his sleepwear with a serious case of bedhead, definitely not trying to be so alluring on purpose, yet here Levi is, so entranced that all he can do is stare.

Keep reading

1. i am really, really bored

2. this post showed up again and reminded me of its existence

3. that first prompt man: incredibly long cross-country train ride au

yes please and thank you



strangers on a train


Emma had had no idea just what, exactly, she’d been getting into when she’d bought the ticket.

The idea had been, as usual, to start over again – she’d jumped straight out of prison to a two-year stint in Tallahassee, and since then had been heading west with a vengeance, trying to find anywhere to settle (except Arizona), but had yet to find anything she could even pretend to call home, stopping for no longer than eight months a pop in Mobile, New Orleans, Lake Charles, Houston, Austin, a (very) brief stay in El Paso (too much like Phoenix), and now, her latest failure, Los Angeles.

Honestly, she wasn’t sure why she’d thought she might fit in in the land of glitter and glamour, except that she’d had notions of getting lost in the Hollywood fantasy; in practice, though, it turned out that LA wasn’t so different than any other major city she’d been in, just with more celebrity sightings, which would have been interesting, had she any interest whatsoever in hunting wild Brad Pitts. 

It seemed like, no matter what she did, she could never quite escape the pull of the Eastern Seaboard; Maine was the only place she had ever, however briefly, attached the word ‘home’ to, but she had determined never to go back to Portland. Instead, she’d stared at the maps in the train station until landing on Boston, and figured it was as good a place as any.

(After all, she’d gone to worse places for worse reasons.)

She would have moved into the goddamn Pacific Ocean if she’d known what her roommate would turn out to be like.

Keep reading

I’ve come to the conclusion that Markiplier and Thomas Sanders must never collaborate, because the product of the two of them working together would cause the universe to explode into a mushroom cloud of rainbows and puppies and the physical embodiment of well-meaning adorable.

wait what-

tbh i found this fascinating lol bcs a non-fan almost believed that theyre actually together, THUS PROVING that im not being delusional😂

destroy the idea that fanart and podfic are somehow less deserving of comments and kudos than fic 2k16

“you just think about g/t sometimes right haha”

right. yes. sometimes. not all the time. i totally don’t go to sleep hugging my pillow and pretending it’s a giant finger and my mattress is a giant’s chest. of course. i don’t look up at tall trees or buildings and picture them as giants. and i don’t constantly run through my head what life as a tiny would be like. not at all. not at al l