must be the eyebrows

Okay, I finally beat the game and I’m  c r y i n g

So decided to draw an alternate reality where the Chocobros got to Altissia in time for the wedding - and Noctis had to have a photoshoot for publicity. Aaaand of course one of the shots is with his best men.

This was a commission for @jack-jazzrabbit! Thank you so much for letting me draw the boys!

Your fave is problematic: Aragorn

• Always Dirty
• avoids responsibilities
• must decapitate at least one orc on any given day
• where are his eyebrows??? are they ok?? is HE ok?
• blatantly screamed “THEN I WILL DIE AS ONE OF THEM” when legolas was tryna be subtle about everyone’s likelihood of dying
• Can Never Stop Yelling
• he has to be dramatic. He Has To
• doesn’t understand second breakfast
• doesn’t understand anything about hobbits why did gandalf assign him to hobbitsit. Help Him
• may or may not be shrek. we just don’t know
• the Skeleton War meme was his fault

Meeting the real Percival Graves. That would be kind of awkward

It’s been a while since I’ve doodled something, so I drew this while taking a little break from my internship. :’) (I’m really sorry for the hiatus)

Imagine:
“Sounds like a nightmare"you said sarcastically.

"Oh c'mon y/n don’t upset me like that"Damon pouted as he sat next to you on the sofa.

"You don’t care when you upset me"you pointed out.

"Believe it or not y/n you are one of the only things I care about. That’s why it hurt so much seeing you fall for Stefan"Damon explained as he ran his fingers through your hair.

You stopped scrolling through your phone and turnt around to face him.
"Damon? I don’t know what your talking about I never loved Stefan he’s like a brother to me. That’s just weird"you laughed.

"Really?"he raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, you must be really oblivious"you said.

"To what exactly?"he asked.

"The fact that I am so in love with you"you confessed.

King of the Resting Bitch Face: An Anatomy of Yami Yugi/Atem Expressions

There are two parts to a typical Yami Yugi/Atem face. 1. His eyebrows must intersect with his top eyelids and 2. his irises (sometimes pupils) are partially obscured by either his top or bottom eyelids. 

Ex. 

90% of all Yami faces meet these requirements.

However,

If either or both of these criteria are not met you can get-

Giant dork in a flimsy bad boy costume made from his boyfriend’s leather fetish and overcompensating machismo. 

Sass Master 9000

Or shit is fuckening and I promise, PROMISE that you do not want any part of it. 

Sources Cited

1. Takahashi, Kazuki. “Yu-Gi-Oh!” Comic strip. Shonen Jump, 1996-2004.

707: You must be Windows 95 because you got me feeling so unstable *wiggles eyebrows*
-
Valentine’s Day is coming up soon and I’m still a single pringle :’) but check out @mysmesecretvalentines!! They have like a whole event and everything :0 ((sorry I’m really bad at promotions :V))

Ps. I challenge whoever is reading this to comment down some pick up lines lolol

Goodbye

Anonymous said:

Can you make an imagine where you catch Peter cheating on you so you go to your secret hideout to calm down but pan finds you and tries to take you back but you don’t take him back. Sorry if this is long and hard to understand

 

Warning/s: cheating, swearing, sadness lol

Requested

summary: he cheats on you (another version)

You were currently preparing dinner for the lost boys when you felt an arm wrap around your waist. You turned around to see Peter, your boyfriend. You smiled at him.

“Is something wrong?” You asked. He was never this clingy so you figured that something must be up.

“No, love. All is fine” he grinned. You raised an eyebrow at him, “Really? Because you’re being really clingy right now and that is so not you.”

“Is it wrong to show my affections to someone I love?” he scoffed.

“Or are you seeing someone else? Maybe that’s why you don’t want me touching you anymore. You found someone new? Is that it?” he yelled.

“What the hell, Peter? How could you say all that?” you looked at him in disbelief.

“Because you’re different now. You’ve changed. Why would you even ask if something is up? You’re clearly accusing me of something!” he glared at you.

“The only one who changed here is you! I was just asking why you were acting different and you overreacted. And to accuse me of cheating? That’s insane. Maybe you’re the one who’s doing something extravagant here.” You squinted your eyes at him. He didn’t say anything. He just glared at you and poofed away. You shook your head and sighed.

When the two of you fight, he would always come to you after a while and will apologize because he couldn’t stand you being mad at him. This time, it’s different. You thought about what happened and decided that you’re the one who needed to apologize. Maybe you were wrong to ask him why he was being clingy. He just simply wanted to show his affections and you went all Sherlock on him.

You decided to search for him and apologize. It was already dark and the lost boys were all sleeping so it was going to be hard. Peter wasn’t in his tree house so that means he hasn’t come back from your fight with him earlier. You continued to walk around the woods in search for Peter but you weren’t doing a pretty good job. You decided to go back and just talk to him in the morning. You were about to walk away when you heard leaves being shifted. You quickly pulled out your dagger and followed the noise.

You hid behind bushes and peeked through them. You saw Peter pinning someone to a tree but you can’t see who. You shifted to see the person Peter was pinning and was shocked to see that it was a girl. You shook your head as the voices in your head says that this is an act of infidelity. You looked back at Peter’s face to see him smirking at the girl and you sighed in relief. Maybe she was one of his prisoners and he’s planning on using her for something. You knew you were wrong when he leaned in and started kissing the girl passionately. You moved away from the bushes quickly, making a noise. Peter stopped kissing the girl and looked towards the bushes. He was too busy with the girl to even sense your presence.

Before Peter can even walk over to you and see you, you stood up and ran as fast as you can, dropping your dagger along the way. You ran towards the one place no one knew of. The one place that Baelfire told you about when he was still on Neverland. You never told Peter about this place because you promised Baelfire that you won’t and even now that he’s gone, you still won’t because it serves as your secret hideout. It is where you go to whenever you have to be alone or whenever you have breakdowns. And right now, you’re having one.

You went in and closed the door. As soon as you did, you went to the corner and fell on the ground, hugging your knees. Now you know why he overreacted earlier. He was being defensive. He blamed you for something that he’s doing. Now you just feel stupid for wanting to apologize. The first time you let someone in after putting down your walls and this happens.

Someone opened the door making you jump and reach for your dagger but it wasn’t there. You looked around for a weapon when the intruder stopped you.

“Calm down, Y/N. It’s just me.” Peter said with his hands in the air.

“Which is worse” you scoffed. “Give me that.” You snatched your dagger from his hand and placed it in your pocket.

“I found it in the middle of the woods. What were you doing out there?” he said with a worried tone.

“Oh cut the crap!” you scoffed.

“What are you saying?” he frowned.

“I already know” you growled. His eyes widened but continued to play innocent. “Know what?” he asked.

“I went to find you, Peter. I wanted to apologize but guess what.” You gave a sarcastic smile.

“You saw..” he whispered.

“Yes. And you blamed me for cheating.” you said through gritted teeth.

“Listen, Y/N. I-” he tried to reason out but you cut him off.

“Now why would I listen to you? In fact, I don’t want anything from you anymore. I don’t want anything to do with you. All I want is to be far away from you.” you said.

“You don’t mean that” he said, almost crying.

“You accused me of cheating because you couldn’t trust me! You thought that if you’re cheating on me, I would be doing the same thing! You’re insane! Don’t even compare me to yourself. Whatever we have or had, it’s over.” you looked at him with so much hatred.

“What are you saying?” he said slowly.

“I’m saying that you need to take me back.” you breathed out.

“Of course. Let’s get you back to camp.” he went to take your hand but you pulled it away.

“No, Peter. Take me back home.” you spat. His eyes widened in shock as he stepped back. “You don’t mean that” he stuttered. “You’re just upset.”

“What do you expect? Should I jump around in happiness knowing what you just did? Why are you even bothering with me if you can just go back to that girl!” you screamed. He grabbed you and hugged you tightly. “Y/N please calm down. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to happen. I’m sorry.” he cried out. You pushed him off of you.

“So you’re not taking me back home?” you asked.

“No, I won’t” he cried.

“You see, I knew you won’t so I trapped your shadow in this” you held up a coconut. Inside it was a shadow. It can take you home. “I just wanted to know if you really loved me. And now I know that you didn’t.” you whispered.

“What are you saying? I loved you. I love you!” he yelled.

“No! Because if you did, you would let me go! You would know that it’s the best for me!” you screamed. 

“I always wanted to do this.” you took the pixie dust that the fairies gave you and blew it to Peter, making him drop and fall asleep.

“Goodbye, Peter.” and with that, you took off to your home. Leaving Peter behind with a broken heart.


note:i had a writer’s block so I’m not posting much. for the meanwhile, enjoy this :)

A Woman - The Hobbit

“Could you do Thorin’s company reacting to a female 14th member who has a boy cut?”

The company of Thorin Oakenshield had departed Hobbiton early that morning. Bilbo had come sprinting up the trail shortly after their departure and the company now found themselves, a few hours later, at a fork in the road where the Great East Road was intersected by the smaller Green Way.

“We continue East on the Great Road!” Thorin called out.

“We do not!” called Gandalf, riding up to the leader.

“Surely one as travelled as yourself, old man, knows our path lies to the east along the great road.” Thorin said.

“Yes yes. And we will continue east….tomorrow.” Gandalf said.

“We can make it four more hours before nightfall.” Thorin said, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Perhaps. But we must wait here for the 14th member of our party.” Replied.

“Another stray?”

“An associate and a close friend. She has been collecting information for me in the far north that I hope will aid in our quest.” Gandalf said, dismounting his horse.

“A woman?” Both of Thorin’s eyebrows shot up.

“A very capable woman.”

Thorin shook his head, but said nothing. He called for the others to begin setting up camp, several yards from the road itself. A fire was started and a few hunted rabbits were set to cook. For another few hours the company relaxes, smoked their pipes, and had low conversations. The sun had just dipped below the horizon when the muted sound of hooves made everyone look up.

A rider in a dull blue cloak, hood raised, trotted into camp and Gandalf stood.

“Y/N” he called up to you. “Your punctuality never ceases to amaze me.”

You swung off your horse.

“And here I was expecting to have to wait several days for your arrival.” You teased. You raised a hand to pull off your hood, not noticing several of the dwarves’ eyes going wide at the sight of your hair cropped closely to your head. As you entered conversation with Gandalf and Thorin, the other whispered about you in hushed voices.

“A woman?”

“Can she even lift that sword? It’s huge!”

“She has less hair than Bilbo.”

“Maybe she’s sick.”

“Women do not belong on these sort of quests. They are weak.” Dwalin mumbled as he went to bite from an apple. He jolted when a small dagger flew through the air and buried itself in the apple. He turned to see you standing with your hand twirling an identical dagger. You grinned and winked.

“Women also have great hearing.” You said, turning back to your conversation with Gandalf.

Decisions, Decisions

Originally posted by suckmywinchester

Pairing: Dean x Demon!Reader
Word count: 808
Warnings: Swearing

Part 2 of One Drunken Night


His face was hard as he pulled his gun and pointed it at your head. “I wake up after getting drunker than I could ever remember being with one hell of a hangover. And I smell sulfur. You, gone.” He moved forward as Sam shut the door. “At first, I thought that a demon somehow got in and took off with you.” The anger was clear in his voice. “But then it hit me- you’re the demon! I fucked a demon. I must have been three sheets to the wind.”

Sam’s eyebrows went up. No wonder Dean was pissed off. What came next was an even bigger shocker. “Please…don’t kill me.”

“Why not? You’re a demon!”

“Because I’m pregnant!” You shot back. “You wouldn’t kill your own child, would you?”

His gun lowered. “No. You can’t be.” There was no way this was happening. Not only did he sleep with a demon, but he’d gotten her pregnant. He felt like he was being torn in two. On the one hand, this child was half demon! On the other, this was his unborn child.

Sam moved closer. “What are we going to do, Dean?” He asked under his breath, knowing Dean had a choice to make. Kill her, and his child, or let them go.


Dean put the gun in the back of his pants, pacing. “Sam, you’re going to go get a nearby motel room.” He pointed at his brother before turning to you. “My ass is staying right here for a couple days. I need time to think.” This was one hell of a choice. “I can’t make a choice like this in minutes.”

Sam looked at him like he was insane. “How do you know she’s even pregnant?!” He asked, motioning to you.

Sighing, you slipped off your coat, tossing it to the couch. You gripped the hem of your shirt and lifted it. It wasn’t much, but still. “I’m not lying. I have no reason to.” You figured it’d be an easy choice for him, that he’d see you and wouldn’t hesitate to deal with you.

“Why not come forward?” Sam asked.

You scoffed. “Yeah, because going up to Dean fucking Winchester and telling him I’m pregnant with his half demon baby sounds smart.” You shot back. “I’m a demon, I’m not stupid.”

“Alright. Sam, I’ll walk with you to the car to get my shit. You.” He pointed to you. “I’ll be right back up. Don’t think about taking off.”  

“Can I at least go change?” You asked sarcastically.  

Dean gave you a look. “I meant don’t fucking leave the apartment.”

Keep reading

Originally posted by qothams

You sighed deeply and shakily, Running a hand through your hair. You really regretted using your powers on your friends, And now they probably feared you. You didn’t want to be an outcast to outcasts. 

“You alright?” Chato asked, smiling ever so softly at you. You bit your lip, Looking out one of the small windows. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me.” 

“Well maybe i should, Considering you look like you might strangle yourself.” He sounded strangely worried, Which surprised you, Considering you barely knew each other.

“It’s nothing really.” 

“Look, You shouldn’t kick yourself about what happened. They were teasing you, They should have known to not mess with you.”  You furrowed your eyebrows. He must’ve been a mind reader or something.

‘How did you know?” You furrowed your eyebrows. Guessing he read minds.

“Cause you’re too nice to not worry about what you did. And i know the feeling of hurting others.” You wondered what exact he meant by that. Wasn’t he supposed to be a bad guy? To like killing people?

“You’ll be fine. And now they know that you can easily kick their ass. If you need me i’ll be there.” You laughed, Smiling like an idiot. He only knew you for a few hours, yet he already knew how to make you smile. 

“i’ll be fine. Thank you so much, Chato.” 

Carl doesn’t like to beg for things. Doesn’t like to ask for anything he can’t get himself. But the hunger that twists low in his gut when Negan lowers the straight razor at last to the bathroom sink is something starved and menacing that threatens to consume him, as it always is when it comes to Negan, and he pushes himself off the doorframe. Slight movement that catches Negan’s eye in the mirror where he’s wiping excess shaving cream off his face.

They just stare at each other for a few seconds. Negan knows, he must know what Carl wants, but he just stands there, eyebrows slightly lifted, amusement twisting the corner of his mouth. When Carl draws in a breath it feels solidified into his lungs.

“I want—” He hesitates. Walks forward until he is standing at the sink, Negan turned to face him, hip cocked against the counter. Carl’s hand flutters out of its own accord like a foreign thing through the air and he watches his fingers come to rest on Negan’s smooth cheek. The skin feels dry and a little rough in places and Carl strokes his thumb over the line of the cheekbone and watches fascinated as Negan’s eyes briefly shut.

Carl’s thumb moves down to Negan’s mouth. Simple, easy gesture that sends shocks like lightning through his whole body. That hunger twisting in him, opening its mouth, ready to devour. Negan’s looking again, amber glass eyes like the sun in a beer bottle. Carl’s mind flits to the way Negan’s stubble had scraped his jaw the last time they kissed, the power in Negan’s movements, the rough virile taste of him nothing like anything Carl had ever experienced. He wonders if it would feel the same, now. If every part of kissing him would be as smooth and clean feeling as touching his face.

“Would you…” Carl swallows. He hates begging, but he hates waiting even more. “Could I…”

Negan’s skin is warm and a little wet where his lips have parted around Carl’s thumb. “C’mere,” Negan says, quiet tense needy voice, and when Carl steps forward another inch Negan lifts his hand—gently, so fucking gently—off his mouth and kisses him. Bending his body down and forward so he can reach Carl, and then lifting him up a little so as to set him on the sink. Bracketing him in with his legs and one arm, the other cradling Carl’s jaw as they both like. Kissing him with that new soft smooth warm skin rubbing against Carl’s face, the lips plush and red and bitten.

Carl reaches out, rests his hands on Negan’s ribs. It’s fucking amazing, like always, to kiss Negan, to feel that new smooth skin on his and know it belongs to him, but he was wrong about one thing. The kissing is rough, and slick and hot and messy, feeding that starved ache that’s spread through his whole body now, and Carl moans, his hips jerking forward, and it isn’t clean at all.

whenimaunicorn  asked:

You just beat Ivar in an axe-throwing contest. He lost the bet, what does he have to do now?

Thank you for the prompt! It’s a lot longer than I originally intended…..oops.

***

“Care to raise the stakes?”

You look at the youngest prince, his cocky smile making you regret agreeing to this axe throwing contest. But you will not have him claim victory through forfeit. You do not need him to hold that over you for the rest of the day.

“How so?” You ask, twirling your axe between your fingers.

His smile widens. “If you lose, you must pay the penalty.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What’s the penalty?”

His grin turns wicked. “Whatever I say it will be. After you lose.”

You are sure it will be something stupid, like licking his boots, but the look in his eyes makes you shiver. You have long since accepted you have feelings for Ivar, but that he sees you as nothing more than a childhood friend whom he constantly likes to annoy. But when he looks at you like that, blue eyes burning, you can’t help but let your imagination run away with you.

“And if you lose?” You ask, composing yourself.

He shrugs. “Same thing. You will decide a penalty for me. But you know I never lose.”

He’s right. He does not usually lose. But you have been practicing a great deal lately, so maybe today is finally your day. Also, you love to watch Ivar with a weapon. There is just something so alluring about the way he handles them. The deftness of his hands, the sureness with which he wields the blade….well, if he can handle a woman half as well, you are sure you’d never find another bed to warm again.

“Alright, I accept,” you tell him, trying to sound more confident than you feel. “Let us begin.”

You begin your contest. Ivar goes first, adjusting himself on his stump as he eyes the target. You cannot help but admire his physique as you wait for him to throw. His upper body is pure muscle, toned and taut from years of use. His hands are large and broad, skin callused and rough from weapon use. His face, now twisted in concentration, is a thing of beauty. His legs don’t matter to you. He is handsome, cunning, witty, strong, stubborn….and you are head over heels.

He finally makes his throw, and you do not even look at where it went. You are too busy staring at the way his arm muscles bulge and flex as he lets go of the axe.

“A perfect bullseye,” he says smugly, turning to look at you. “Your turn.”

You shake yourself out of your lovesick reverie and step up. You take a minute to concentrate, pushing all thoughts of the man beside you out of your mind. You lean back, and you throw. It hits the target dead centre.

“Hah!” You laugh, and you can hear Ivar grumble from beside you. “I may win yet, oh mighty prince.”

He just snorts, and makes to take his second throw.

You two continue on, until it is your last throw. It’s very close, you have to make a perfect bullseye to win. If you miss by just a hair, you will have to pay Ivar’s penalty. You close your eyes, and say a quick prayer to the gods before opening them and letting the axe fly.

It hits true.

“Yes!” You cry, throwing your hands into the air. You turn to Ivar, who is looking like he does not quite believe what just happened. “I am victorious!”

“I cannot believe this,” he groans, rubbing his face with his hands. “I never lose!”

“Well, Ivar, today you have,” you say, walking towards him. “Now you have to pay up! Hmm, what shall your penalty be?”

Before you can even think, he reaches out and grabs you by your shirt, dragging your body into his. You gasp in surprise as your chest bumps into his. One hand grabs your chin and forces you to look up at him. The other anchors you to him by your waist. You forget to breathe; his face is so close you can see the flecks of silver in his blue eyes.

“I do not like to lose,” he growls, hand slipping from your chin down to your throat. His fingers flex, strong against the tender flesh.

“Too bad,” you manage to say, your own hands resting against his chest as your heart beats a fierce tattoo. “I won fair and square. You have to pay.”

He considers you for a moment, fingers squeezing your throat gently. “What is your penalty?” He finally says, and you are surprised to hear a note of breathiness in his voice.

Before you can even stop yourself, (because his lips are just so close and you just can’t help it, you want to taste them so badly), you whisper “you have to kiss me. Hard.”

He blinks. “What?”

You feel yourself faltering at the confused look on his face. “I mean, no, that is silly, you do not, not unless you want-”

But you are cut off as his lips descend on yours.

His mouth is warm and he tastes of ale and something you cannot quite place. He kisses you hungrily, as if he is a starving man and you are what will sustain him. You let out a soft moan, kissing him back with everything you have. This is what you have wanted for so long. To know what this feels like. And it is much better than you ever could have dreamed.

His hand on your throats tightens, but you find it does not scare you. In fact, you find yourself pressing closer to him. He lets out a choked groan, the hand on your hip leaving to fist itself in your long hair. Your own hands are touching every inch of him you can reach; chest, arms, shoulders, face.

After what feels like an eternity, he pulls back, but not away. He moves to your jaw, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses along the side.

“Some penalty this is,” he growls against your skin, “when it is all I have ached for since you grew into a woman.”

You suck in a surprised breath. “Really?”

He bites your earlobe. “Do not be daft, woman. Why do you think I spend so much time with you?”

You struggle to speak as his tongue traces up over your ear. “I thought you just liked to bother me.”

“Hmmm, well you are rather delicious when you are angry,” he hums, tugging on your hair so your throat become exposed. He takes his hand away and replaces it with his mouth. You feel as if you are about to explode. Who knew a simply axe throwing contest would lead to this?

“Are you as good at handling a woman as you are with an axe?” You ask, whining softly as he scraps his teeth across your pulse point. Your question makes him pull back, and you shiver at the pure confidence and desire radiating from his eyes.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out,” He growls, a hand snaking up under your shirt.

You do find out. Twice.

And you are never going to be able to watch him with an axe ever again.

****

Woooo that was fun :)

Look, look, he *cares*

“This is a terrible idea,” Dorian says, squinting at the monstrous beast sprawled carelessly in the valley below. “Absolutely terrible. The worst idea in all the history of bad ideas. Corypheus must be taking notes, somewhere.”

“You wanted a dragon tooth,” Herah snickers, one eyebrow arched in an expression that would normally make Dorian threaten violence, but then, he loves her so. “We’re getting you a dragon tooth.”

“Could do without the rest of the dragon, though,” Dorian mutters, taking a deep breath. “If I die, I am going to be the crankiest, bitchiest arcane horror in the world.”

“Don’t joke about that,” she says, sobering a little.

Dorian snorts and refuses to back down, if only because he’s very likely about to commit suicide via dragon, and even in his wildest fantasies, he never quite envisioned himself capable of this.

“I can and will joke about that,” he retorts, grip on his staff tight enough it hurts. “If I’m going to go down, I’m going to leave a goddamn crater in my wake.”

“You’re not going to die,” Herah insists, grinning wryly. “You’re gonna kill a dragon and make Bull cry.”

“He will, won’t he?” Dorian marvels, looking up at her with a delighted little smile tugging at his lips. “He absolutely will, the great big sap.” And then, “I’m not going to ask if you’re ready, because no one is ever ready for fucking dragons, but thank you for indulging my terrible self-destructive urges. I sincerely appreciate it.”

pastelkilller  asked:

Oh, hello! You must be my First Player. Let's hope you're smart. With eyebrows like that, you obviously didn't get the looks, between the two of us. ((SORRY FOR THE SASS/HALF INSULT, I HAD TO BE IN CHARACTER. I saw your blog and almost squealed, you're so gosh darn cute!!! Such a cutie pie, and your answers are so in character and witty! <3 ))

I’ll have you know, I am decently clever! Besides, my eyebrows aren’t that bad… right?

@pastelkilller @jamie-forever-alone

(Don’t worry its totally okay! X3 And thank you so much!)