move ring

I went to [Tolkien’s] public lectures. They were absolutely appalling. In those days a lecturer could be paid for his entire course even if he lost his audience, provided he turned up for the first lecture. I think that Tolkien made quite a cynical effort to get rid of us so he could go home and finish writing Lord of the Rings.
— 

“He gave his lectures in a very, very small room and didn’t address us, his audience, at all. In fact he looked the other way, with his face almost squashed up against the blackboard. He spoke in a mutter. His mind was on finishing Lord of the Rings, and he was really musing to himself about the nature of narrative. But I found this so fascinating that I came back week after week, as did one other person. I’ve always wondered what became of him, because he was obviously equally fascinated. And because we stuck there, Tolkien couldn’t go away and write Lord of the Rings! He would say the most marvelous things about the way you take a very basic plot and twitch it here and twitch it there–and it becomes a completely different plot.”

- Diana Wynne Jones, author of the Chronicles of Chrestomanci, the Dalemark quartet, Howl’s Moving Castle, on J. R. R. Tolkien’s lectures.

3

aaaah I’m so happy you liked her, and that you’re interested in her!
If you’re wondering who she is, she’s Sora, my OC from MHA -> link

So, here’s some fact about her (soon I’ll make her official reference sheet for the UA school! è_è):

• Basically, her quirk is divided in two: she can control the 2 rings that levitate around her up to 1 mt, and from those rings she can create masses of manipulable but almost unbreakable ectoplasm. 
• Her mother has a quirk that allows her to create and control a full set of 5 rings (like the ones Sora has), that she uses to fight; her father’s quirk makes him vomit a gel-ish solid ectoplasm from his mouth, and create everything he wants (like puppets, or object ready to use). Sora has a weird combination of that 2 powers (she can create everything from thei rings)!
• She’s born without her arms. It’s nothing related to her quirk, or the ones from her parents, she was just born with phocomelia, so her arms never formed during her mother’s pregnancy! So, actually she’s kind of lucky to have a quirk that allows her to compensate her handicap.
• Her quirk showed very late, when she was 8 yo, when she was about to give up of her hopes to become a hero. She passed all the following years training so hard not just to control her quirk, but also to increase her resistance: now she can basically mantain her quirk active continually.
• Even if she can move the rings anywere and she could create everything with the ectoplasm that comes out from them, she always tend to create arm-related stuff: different kind of arms (even if her favourite ones, the ones that she always “”wear”” are not human, but kind of beasty and big), limbs with weapons, or simply wings! Still, sometimes she moves her rings in positions other than her shoulders, and create other stuff (stairs, chairs, sledges, everything.)
• As I said, she trained to create wings: she’s not really able to fly for long distances, but she can make quick and short flights ( no more than 5 minutes, then she’ll be too tired to do anything else), or glide from an high place.
 

So, let me know if you like her, and I’ll maybe tell you more!
Thank you so much for your interest ♥

  • *early morning*
  • Sherlock: *playing the violin*
  • Rosamund: *eating cereal; grimacing* Uncle Sherlock?
  • Sherlock: *concentrating* Mmm?
  • Rosamund: Are you in love?
  • Sherlock: *glances at her* Why do you ask?
  • Rosamund: *shrugs* you keep playing icky love songs and stuff.
  • Sherlock: *offended* I am not!
  • Rosamund: *raises an eyebrow* What was that called?
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *mutters* Ode to Joy *irritated* don't you have school?
  • Rosamund: *rolls her eyes; stands* Alright, alright, I'm going *picks up her bag; knocks on Sherlock's bedroom door* see you later, Aunt Molly.
  • Molly: *muffled* Yeah, g-goodbye, Rosie.
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Rosamund: *smug* Bye-bye, Uncle Sherlock *grins as she leaves the flat*
4

Quidditch is a wizarding sport played on broomsticks. It is the most popular game among wizards and witches, and, according to Rubeus Hagrid, the equivalent to Muggles’ passion for football.

MY FIRST SERIES! Tell me what you think!

Requests are OPEN

@fantstic-newt @thesniffler @newt-scamagines @fantastic-fanfic-beasts @newtts-scamander @ofnifflersandkings @dailyprophet @she-who-nailed-it @pygmy-puff-fluff @ginweasleys

The entirety of New York City’s downworlder population know or know of Magnus Bane. The High Warlock of Brooklyn is not a title left behind some trash can in an alley of Queens, it is flaunted at the fanciest parties in Brooklyn and Upper East Side.

And so it really comes as no surprise that when he starts dating a shadowhunter, Alec Lightwood’s name is spread about the same way. It is whispered in vampire dens, gossiped about in the Hunter’s Moon and Pandemonium is always on alert for any shadowhunters in its midst.

He’s the Lightwood’s son… He left his bride-to-be at the altar… He defied the Clave for a warlock… The Wolves almost killed his parabatai…

Seelies listen to the trees, wolves listen to the scattered word on the street, vampires all hear the new fledgling’s complaints (“he’s such an ass” or “sometimes I don’t get what Magnus sees in him” and “he does seem like a knight in shining armour, though”) and warlocks only have to look at Magnus’ affectionate expression whenever Alec’s name pops up in conversation to know he is something special.

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Strawberries (Damian Wayne x Reader) *Collab with Colormemeow*

A/N: Here’s the fic me and @colormemeow wrote together in celebration of our 300 milestone!

Warnings: None!



You had woken up that morning, unenthusiastically expecting an empty apartment. It had been unbearably boring ever since Batman had temporarily grounded you from patrol.  But instead of the usual empty house, you found Damian, flopped unceremoniously onto your couch, looking like he’d been hit by, well, a Batmobile.

“Um… Hello?” you greeted and walked over to the sofa, kneeling so that you could make eye contact with him.

“Good morning,” he replied, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

This had happened before, so the shock factor had worn off slightly.

“You, my friend, are getting blood all over my couch,” you pointed out.

‘It’s not my blood,” he tried to reassure you.

“That’s not any better! Now, why don’t we get you out of that uniform?“

“Beloved, are you attempting to flirt with me?” Damian responded, smirking.

“If you think that this is flirting, you’re out of your damn mind. I’m saying that you smell bad and I want you to shower, so get off of my couch,” you said, quickly pecking him on the nose.

He huffed in annoyance before rolling off the couch and making his way to your bathroom.

“Your shampoo is in there!” you called from the linen closet, where you were trying to see if Damian had left any clothes at your house.

Damian stood in the shower, looking at your bottles of soap. On the shower shelf, there was a wide array of soaps, including the shampoo you had gotten for him when he stayed over. However, a different bottle caught his eye.


Damian walked out into your bedroom, to find the clothes you had laid out, for him. He raised an eyebrow at the choice, but chose not to complain. A few minutes later he walked out of your room wearing grey sweats and an undersized black t-shirt. Damian noticed a pink sweatshirt sitting on a chair. He stopped to consider his dignity before putting on the sweatshirt. It fit and was fairly warm, so he didn’t mind the color.


You were lying on your sofa, snacking on a bowl of strawberries that you had gotten for yourself while waiting for Damian to get out of the shower. There was a loud thumping sound, followed by a string of curses.

“Don’t you dare die on me!” you shouted from the couch, trying to make sure Damian didn’t kill himself in your shower.

About ten minutes later, you were met with Damian, draping himself gracelessly over you, Damian’s damp hair was pressed into the crook of your neck. “Hello,” you greeted for the second time that morning. Before Damian could reply, you spoke again. “Did you use my shampoo?”

“It smelled like strawberries, I couldn’t help it, beloved,” he said into your neck, tangling his legs with yours.

“Smells nice on you. And is that my hoodie?” You moved one hand to run your fingers through his hair.

“Maybe.”

“Pink’s a good color on you,” you remarked sarcastically.

Damian hummed in response, and shifted so that he could kiss you, with his arms on either side of your head. He gave you several short pecks on the lips. “Marry me,” he mumbled, his face hovering over yours.

“I’m not that insane,” you replied, smirking and moving your head up to give him another kiss.

“I’m serious,” he responded, but his phone started to ring. He moved one arm to pull it out of the pocket of his sweats. “It’s my father, beloved. I probably have to go,” he sighed.

“No,” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Stay.”

“Beloved, I-” he stopped when he saw your pout. “Fine,” he muttered. “But what if it’s serious?”

“Promise me you’ll stay,” you begged, kissing him once again.

“Beloved, it is getting increasingly difficult to say no to you,” Damian said, furrowing his brow.

“I can make it worth your while,” you giggled, popping a strawberry into your mouth.

“You’re too good for this world, beloved,” he chuckled, then pressed his lips onto yours in a heated kiss.

His arms returned to either side of your head as the kiss grew more passionate. Your hands were on his chest, and the kiss broke for him to hastily pull off the pink sweatshirt and t-shirt.

Your position changed slightly, and now Damian’s knees were on either side of your hips, and he had your arms pinned above your head.

His lips were rough against yours and he kissed you fiercely.

You and Damian were both too preoccupied to hear the soft thunk coming from your fireplace.

It wasn’t until Bruce loudly cleared his throat that you both turned to look. There he was, in the full Batman suit.

Damian jerked off of the couch, landing on the floor. You heard a string of arabic cursing before he collected himself. “H-hello, father!” he exclaimed, looking absolutely mortified, his face almost as pink as the sweatshirt he’d been wearing. “It’s a bit early for you to be out, isn’t it?” Damian tried, attempting to avoid Bruce’s interrogation.

“Damian, would you like to explain to me why you elected not to report back to the cave after patrol last night?” Bruce questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. “And explain to me what this is,” he continued, gesturing to the two of you in your disheveled state.

You were practically petrified. Having your adoptive father-figure walk in on you and his son making out was not a comfortable situation.

“Father I am nineteen. I might remind you that I’m an adult,” Damian argued.

Bruce sighed, looking as if he was making a decision. “Fine,” he grumbled. “I’m too young to be having grandchildren,” he muttered to himself, making your face go bright red. In another instant, he was gone.

“I should probably go, beloved,” Damian reasoned, getting up and starting to change into his uniform.

“Yeah, I guess,” you admitted, sighing in defeat and standing up.

“I’ll be back later tonight after patrol,” he told you, walking over and taking your hands in his.

“Just do one last thing and kiss me,” you replied, smiling gently.

He nodded and kissed you softly. “Just so you know, beloved, I was serious about marrying you.”

And before you knew it he was out your window and off to save the world.

Punk (Chap. 11)

Originally posted by coporolight

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: ~2500

Warnings: Language, mission/war related violence and gore, shooting, battle related injuries/casualties/mayhem

A/N:  My sincere apologies for how long this has taken.  I’ve been dealing with some personal things and, quite frankly, it took away all desire to write.  I hope you like this chapter, the photo with the shield later on in the story is actually the inspiration for the entire series.  So you can get inspiration from anywhere :)  I want to thank everyone who stuck around waiting and who has been so helpful and kind to me.  Also, I’m very excited to continue writing more chapters!  Thank you for your continued patience.

As always, feedback is always appreciated.  Please let me know how the ‘action’ plays out as I am always looking for ways to improve my storytelling.  Thanks!



Your face fell in horror, but you seemed to be the only one moving, the rest of the world seemed to be stuck in some sort of time lapse.  Bucky was still just crouching there, holding the boy, with that stupid, beautiful smile still plastered to his face, not yet seeing the danger, not yet registering your alarm.

No no no no no no NO!  Your mind was screaming the words as you tore your gaze away from the scene.  The man was getting closer.  NO!

You bolted forward, shoving the woman into the alley screaming for Bucky to run, ripping your vocal chords in the process. Your legs felt like they were trudging through molasses, like some force was pulling you back, weighing you down. And each step on the pavement felt like an elephant stomp making the ground shake.  But it was as if you weren’t moving any closer.  But you had to.  You had to.   Because what was about to happen could. not. happen.

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6

Since Pokemon Sun and Moon is finally out, here’s my complete guide to the Pokemon Sun and Moon Z Crystals! I really like the designs for all of them and it was really fun remaking them all.
I hope everyone enjoys they game!

Update: I rearranged a few of the crystals so their colors contrast better with the background

Us

Group: BTS

Pairing: JIMIN X READER

Excerpt: “Y/N, why are you crying? You’re getting married,” he sounded bitter and your sobs increased in sound.

Genre: angst

Length: 1k

A/N: im always in the mood for angst. Also unsure if I should pt2 this (although it would take a while to complete Cus I have a few surprises planned,,,

Originally posted by mewchim

“I never stood a chance did I?” Jimin looked up at you, a tear sliding down his face and you looked at him stunned at his words as the hand with your engagement ring dropped from having shown it to him in excitement.

“I don’t understand,” But you did, your voice quivered because you realised what was going on and your eyes widened as he began to back away from you.

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It’s A Match! [Swipe Right; part two]

a/n: I love you all so very much so I apologise in advance. I’m sorry about the formatting, I had a bit of an issue and I will fix it! Please don’t hate me too much Big thanks as always to the saints that helped me, I won’t name names, just know that I love you with my whole butt. (cause it’s bigger than my heart.) ;) Lau xoxo 

Pairing: StilesxReader // NogitsunexReader

Author: thelittlestkitsune

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Explicit Content. (Sensitive material ahead.)

Word count: .10,559

Listen to me.

Swipe Right.  

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Lost - The Forgotten Series - Pt. 3

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Rowena, mentions of Crowley and Cas

Warnings: All the Angst

Word Count: 2.6k (hey look, it’s the longest of the series)

A/N: I know that it’s been a while. I had to wait for this one to come to me. I thought it was going to be the last one, but it turns out this Series has other plans. So, I bring you third installment of The Forgotten Series, Lost. I really hope you guys like it! Catch up on Pt. 1 & 2

Feedback Appreciated 

Tags at the Bottom

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Noona....Please {Jeon Jungkook} ~ceasefire~

Prompt:  Oh my goodness, I absolutely adore your writing! Could I request a Jungkook smut where he’s super submissive? Also noona kink, and possibly orgasm denial for him + begging? And maybe some overstimulation for him too, please. Thank you so much!!

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warning: PWP, Noona!kink, cock ring, overstimulation, power play

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Savior Ink

Every artist has their signature and hers, it’s cover-ups. Sometimes it’s to mask a now unwanted tat but her favorite is to cover a scar, or as she likes to explain to her clients, honor it. She gets a rush at taking something unwanted and turning into something to cherish.“ 

(Modern AU / Rated T / 3200 words / AO3


The heels of her boots are loud against the poured concrete floor of the hallway, the last quiet spot before reaching the constant swarm beyond the double swinging doors. Ten years in and she still quickens her pace to enter the one place she’s ever felt it in her heart to call home. The buzzing hits her like a lover’s embrace, melting the tension from her shoulders brought on by a restless night’s sleep.

Ruby’s client’s tongue is trapped between her red tipped fingers, slightly swollen from the shiny new  barbell piercing she’s securing with a sultry wink. Emma can practically feel the pheromones pulsing around the pair as the beautiful asian owner of said tongue blushes furiously as Ruby’s thumb brushes against her bottom lip. It doesn’t take a genius to know that Ruby will be offering to show this new client how to really make use of that piercing, with hands and tongue on demonstration devoid of any clothes.

Emma catches Belle’s eye from behind the counter and they share a knowing smile, both of them used to Ruby’s sexual adventures thanks to her love for giving the entire shop a very detailed play by play.

“Hey Ems, there’s coffee on your station.”

Ah, salvation. Belle is seriously the best, keeping this pack of lady tattoo artists organized and as drama free as possible, considering they’ve all gotten on the same damn cycle.

“What would I do without you?”

Belle just waves her off and goes back to adding to the schedule of appointments on the computer. There’s already three people waiting on the sunken leather couch in the front corner and Emma starts the process of getting her station set up for the day. Other than the appointment with Anton later on tonight to finally finish the intricate beanstalk tattoo on his back, she’s free for the rest of the day for walk-ins.

“I call dibs on stubbled and broody in the armchair, darling. He’s just this side of smarmy and I need the eye candy to help me wake up.”

“Whatever.”

Emma doesn’t even look up from her prep as Crue slinks by on wispy limbs towards her prey. Here’s hoping the guy wants a dog tattoo, cause that’s just about the only thing that woman is good at.

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