my eyes are all messed up

I had a dream where there was a reality TV-show called Chuck vs the Alt-Right where this random Chuck would mess with bad guys and protect immigrants and stuff (my dreams are getting way too political lol), but the thing is we never see Chuck. He’s really good at evading cameras or something, idk.

Eventually the TV crew winds up at a Milo Yamsweetpotato event with a whole bunch of protestors and Milo comes out and everyone is yelling, but then bird shit drops on his head! And we all look up to see the bird, and it’s a weird toucan with a floating eye but for some reason holy moly, that’s Chuck! and everyone goes wild as this big Picasso-looking toucan flies around dive-bombing the alt-right.

How nice of you to let us watch such bloody mess (Fluff/Angst oneshot)

This oneshot is a continuation of the vampire story @fantastic-beasts-smut wrote. I hope they enjoy it.


“Newt.” A hand shook his shoulder. “Wake up, please. I can’t sleep.” The voice sounded sad and hoarse. Newt groaned and opened his eyes. He was hanging from the celling of the Minister in York like a massive bat. All members of Grindelwald’s clan slept in such a position. It was a bit tricky and especially the youngsters had troubles getting a hang for it. Newt himself had lost count on how many times he had dropped off the celling.

Rubbing over his tired lids, his eyes found who had addressed him. It was Percival Graves. He still was pale and a bit shaky on his legs. His dark hair was elegantly combed and he still wore the suit Newt had turned him in. The blood had dried.

His sight caused Newt to flinch with guilt. He had not wanted to turn this man. But he had been very hungry this night and the other man’s scent had triggered something in him he did not really understand. It was more then just the greed and desire for blood. It had almost felt human. Grindelwald, his Sire, had once said that vampires could become attracted to types of blood. Newt so far only had had this case once. With Porpentina Goldstein. A young Auror, he had almost killed before Gellert had sired her. So why was it that the same phenomenon now happened with Graves?

“What is it, Graves?” Newt had barely finished his sentence before in a very unelegant and silly manner he slipped off his sleeping place and more or less crashed down on the floor. Ouch! My backside, my legs, my back, my ellbows, my…everything!

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April 17th 2148

Today is my birthday. I’m 41. Can’t say it bothers me too much. I wouldn’t even celebrate it but Cece is insisting that we do something. I think we’re going to watch a film and then go to the Mess to have what passes for a special meal in this place. I can’t even think what that would be. Two hard biscuits instead of one, maybe? Can hardly wait. Oh, I hope she hasn’t invited my mother.

Later

Woops. Stylus isnt working. Is it? Cant see proply. Something wrong with the screen its all blurred. Ill just type and hope

for the best. So tonight was a double date with Jake and Abby. Awkward. Abby had her hair down. Softened her a bit. Not the eyes though. Sharp as ever. Cutting me from across the table. Chopped me up into little pieces until I was nothing. It made me hot, and shiver, which is weird. Hot shoudlnt be cold. I hope noone ever finds this dairy. Abby is oh Ceces here.

April 18th 2148

Abby had her hair down. Softened her a bit. Not the eyes though. Sharp as ever. Cutting me from across the table. Chopped me up into little pieces until I was nothing. It made me hot, and shiver, which is weird. Hot shoudlnt be cold. I hope noone ever finds this dairy. Abby is oh Ceces here.

There are reasons why I don’t celebrate anything ever and last night was all of them. We did go and see a film and it was Black Hawk Down which I thought was good of Cece because she didn’t want to see it last time but she knew I did. What was not so good was she’d invited Jake and Abby. Jake and I have been friends a long time. Even after he married Abby. He’s very impulsive and he used to get me into a lot of trouble when we were young. He has a quick brain, though. Very quick. He makes connections where no one else thinks any exist. He’s visionary and I’ve always liked that about him. Him I was happy to see but Abby still thinks I’m plotting to overthrow Jaha and she doesn’t have a poker face. Her contempt for me exudes from every pore.

I had to sit next to her in the screening room because Cece likes the aisle seat and Jake had already gone along the row first. It’s cramped in that room, and hot. We don’t show films that often because we’re conserving resources but people need entertainment. It helps keep them happy and happy people are obedient people. So, there’s usually a lot of Arkers jammed into the room. Abby’s arm was touching mine. She tried to pull it close into her body but short of tearing it off there was only so much she could do to keep away from me and contact was inevitable. I’ll admit I spread out a bit more than was necessary just to annoy her. She wasn’t wearing a jacket and she had on a blue v-necked shirt with short sleeves. Her skin was warm where it touched mine and we were sticking together in the heat. The top was low-cut and a few beads of sweat were gathering in her cleavage. I could see them out of the corner of my eye. They were fascinating and I don’t know why. Much more interesting than the film we were about to watch. I didn’t want her to see me looking because whatever else she thinks of me I’m not that type of man, but somehow the glimpses were more tantalising than if I’d been able to stare right at her. Then the lights dimmed and I couldn’t see her anymore, just feel the heat of her. It was all most disturbing.

After that experience, there was only one way to get through the evening and that was to drink. Cece had obtained some moonshine and we sneaked it into our cups at the dinner table like we were teenagers again. I thought the drink might loosen Abby up but she was still cold with me, in contrast to when she was talking to Jake and Cece. A few drinks in and she’d stopped even pretending to speak to me and just stared, her eyes flaying me like I was a piece of meat to be chopped up and fed to stray cats, not that such creatures exist on the Ark but you know what I mean.

I was drunk enough by then to risk a comment.

“What’s so fascinating?”

She frowned. “Pardon?”

“You’ve been staring at me for about five minutes. I’m wondering what it is about me that is so interesting to you?”

She looked around. Jake and Cece were busy talking and weren’t paying us any attention.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t staring at you.”

“C’mon, Abby. Lying doesn’t suit you.”

She sighed. “What are you up to, Kane? I know you’re up to something. I just don’t know what it is yet.”

“I’m not up to anything, Abby. I don’t know how I can convince you of that.”

“You don’t like Thelonious, I can tell that.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to overthrow him! I think he’s weak, yes. At the moment, while everything is stable, that doesn’t matter too much. But what if things change? What if there’s a crisis? I don’t think he is the man to lead us through.”

“And you are?”

“No. I don’t know.” And that is the truth. It’s not so much that I want to be Chancellor or that I think I can do a better job, it’s more that I don’t think Jaha is the right man and he’s doing a poor job. If I don’t step in, who will? Abby? She’s too emotional; doesn’t have the strength to do what must be done.

“You’re too hard for the job of Chancellor. You have no compassion. People mean nothing to you.”

“Saving the human race doesn’t need compassion, it needs action, hard decision-making.”

“You would think that, and that’s precisely why you would be a lousy Chancellor. You can’t see it, can you?” Her voice was louder now, and Jake and Cece turned to look at us.

“I can see that you are displaying the kind of behaviour that would have us all dead within a week if you were Chancellor. Emotional outbursts achieve nothing.”

She didn’t like that. She glowered at me and bit the corner of her lower lip to try and hold her words in. She thinks she’s clinical and calm under stress which I’ll admit she can be, but she’s also hot-headed and excitable and the Chancellor’s job requires a cool head and emotional detachment. I decided to push the point home.

“You’re too trusting to be able to make an objective decision about people. It’s not a good quality for a Chancellor or a member of the Council.” That last part was mean, in retrospect, but as I said earlier, that’s what she brings out in me.

She pushed her chair back and leaned over the table towards me. It would have been intimidating if she weren’t wearing that shirt I mentioned earlier. It was my turn to bite my lip.

“I don’t trust YOU.” Her words were literally spat out; I could feel droplets land on my hand. “What does that tell you about my ability to be objective?”

I didn’t get a chance to respond because Jake intervened, putting his hand on Abby’s arm to calm her.

“Everything alright you two?”

Jake’s touch did seem to have an effect; it was always like that with those two. When she next spoke, her voice was quieter, addressed to him alone. “Actually, I’m feeling tired. I think we should go home.”

I stood up to shake hands with Jake and as Abby turned to go I grabbed her arm.

“You’re wrong about me, and one day you’ll see that I was right.”

She pulled her arm away as though my touch was like a hot poker to her skin.

“I doubt that,” she hissed, and then she followed Jake out of the Mess hall, pausing at the door to look over her shoulder at us and then she was gone.

“Well, that was a great birthday,” I said to Cece, which was unfair of me considering it wasn’t her fault Abby hated me. My actions a long time ago are mostly responsible for that. It was her fault that we were out together in the first place, though, so I felt justified in laying some of the blame on her. After that we drank some more and when we got home I made that drunken diary entry which I have hopefully deleted. Another year of my life is over. What will the coming year bring?

Got to work lining the 134 Days cover sketch; I messed up some stuff (Asryn was supposed to cry out of her left eye but I confused the sides….) but it’s all correctable.

I have to research saber design before I go any further though. Cause lightsabers are often tailored to fit what your form is. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ she goes through several because reasons, so I need an all-purpose design, or else destroy her current one….I’m getting too invested. Ah well.

  • luke skywalker is terrifying. 
  • no, shut up, come back.
  • you have to understand:
  •  to you or me he may not be; he may be all sunshine smiles and corngold hair and the biggest eyes this side of the galaxy, but imagine you’re Dagger (stormtroopers don’t get proper names), firing at a boy, only the bolts never hit. They sing to the side. You think that there’s something wrong with your blaster, maybe, but none of your friends can hit him either. Finest shots in the Empire, you are, but you can’t hit this boy. And he cuts you down. He wields a weapon whose name you’ve never learned and he cuts you down into smoking bloodless bodies and your friends die before you – only he leaves you. Knocks you out with a blow of the Force – and isn’t that a nightmare of its own, unseen hands blotting out your thoughts – leaves you there in the cooling blood of your squadmates.
  •  Imagine that you’re Cara Ilhyre and you’re a dancer for the Hutt and you hate it, of course you do, but it is a living, a living, and this boy comes in, fresh-faced and young and he says surrender or be destroyed only he and you both know that the Hutt do not and never have surrendered and when he says destroy there’s this grin on his lips, thin and sharp, and he’s kind, of course he is, but –
    • so you’re Cara Ilhyre and you’re a native of tattooine and like many of your specis you are force-touched and you were a girl, once, a very little girl, and your mother told you tales of krayt dragons who slumbered beneath the sands and gentled their young to their pearl-heavy breasts. krayt dragons are tender mothers, she had said, and it was meant to teach you something of the duality of nature, or to fear those with young to protect, or something; but all you can think is this boy, how he smiles as kind as your mother did, once, but you’re convinced that if you were to cut him down the middle you would find dragon-pearls in his ribs and fire instead of a heart
    • the boy cuts downs jabba’s goons like they are nothing, nothing, and afterwards, afterwards, you sense his sorrow. and somehow that makes it worse.
    • because you say, later, to your mother’s ghost (maybe) or to the desert, he knows that killing people is hard and that weighs on him and he does it anyway and –
    • and, you say, it isn’t as simple as: he makes the hard choices. he knew the hutt would fight. he wanted to burn them down, oh he did, and that sister of his –

My favorite thing about General Grievous is that he made the eyeholes on his mask big enough to show not only his eyes but the bags under them? Like his face is messed up and probably mostly gone and he could have covered up more of it but he wanted everyone to know exactly how tired he is of their shit at all times and I really respect that.

Little Things

Word Count: 4876

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Pure fluff. Little bit of angst. But pure fluff. 

A/N: I don’t really know how this happened. It’s pretty bad but @nichelle-my-belle @impala-dreamer and @bringmesomepie56 told me to keep going with it so I did. I apologize in advance for this mess. 

Written for @redlipstickandplaid ‘s birthday challenge. My prompt was hangover. 



“De?” You padded your way into Dean’s room, blanket clutched tightly in one hand, your eyes filled with tears and your thumb in your mouth. “De.” You shook him and he groaned, blinking awake, seeing you standing there.

“Y/N? What is it?” He mumbled sleepily, taking in your state.

“I…I…” You kept stuttering, unable to get the words out through your fear for a minute. Dean just stared at you, trying to wake up and take it all in. “I had a bad dream. Can I sleep here?” It wasn’t uncommon for your nightmares to bring you to Dean’s room, but you generally just threw yourself into bed with him and cuddled up. Something was off about you. Your mannerisms were weird. Your voice was higher pitched. He just couldn’t place exactly what was going on.

“Yeah, of course. Get in.” He pulled back the blankets and scooted over for you and you crawled into bed, much like a child would have, snuggling up against him and putting your head on his chest. That’s when it hit him. The witch. She’d muttered some bullshit at you earlier that day and nothing happened. You’d insisted you were fine but you’d been acting weird ever since.

“Y/N…sweetheart? How old are you?” Dean questioned.

“Four.” You sniffled.

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I don’t know why I’ve been obsessed with the idea of Grantaire, Joly and Bossuet having a cooking youtube channel together.

  • They don’t even know how to cook that well. They were just bored one day, picked up a camera and filmed each other messing around in the kitchen
  • Bossuet is good at editing, and is a comedy genius, so the end result was hilarious. They put it online and went viral
  • Every episode begins by Joly greeting the audience by something related to the recipe of the day: “Hello Bumble Bees!” “Hello Sunny-side eggs!” “Hello Beans!” “Hello Apples of my eye!”
  • Bossuet makes puns. Constantly. He’s also in charge of the realisation
  • Grantaire makes up songs as they go, improvising melodies and rhymes
  • People adore their content, and you can see the quality improving all the time as they get better equipment and as they become better cooks
  • Other Amis are slowly introduced as guests
  • Courfeyrac wants a rainbow cake with a twist
  • Jehan gives them vegan challenges
  • Combeferre does special “Food Facts” episodes. People are screaming in the comments because of his rolled sleeves and tattoos
  • The audience starts to pick up the Enjoltaire vibe and the shipping is HUGE online, which embarrasses Grantaire and Enjolras immensely, because neither can face their feelings
  • It becomes even more intense when Enjolras is invited to make a cake on the show and they start throwing flour at each other
  • There may have been a floury hand print on Enjolras’ ass
  • Shippers go wild

tumblr posts i think abt too much while listening to hamilton:

  • “you have my eyes, give back my fucking eyes”
  • “rise up, when you’re living on your knees you rise up, train an army of bees and rise up”
  • “somebody tells me YOU DONE MESSED UP AY AY RON”
  • “i think your pants look hot, laurens i like you a lot, how bout when i get back we all strip down to our socks”
  • “take the bullets out yo gun” vs “take the bullets out yo son”
  • “ooh who is this kid, whats he gonna do?” “THE REYNOLDS PAMPHLET” 

…torture is a really inefficient means of getting information, particularly when magic is available that can twist a person’s loyalties inside-out. Logically, before he was given to Ripley at all, Percy must have been dragged before Sylas and Delilah - the both of them, most likely (as if they would ever be apart.) Maybe there was still blood on their hands, their clothes, the corner of Sylas’s lips; maybe they had cleaned up. Maybe there was blood on Percy, his own or a guard’s or one of his sibling’s.

Delilah waves a hand, fingertips sparkling with purle-black arcane energy, or Sylas steps forward and terrified blue eyes are locked by blood-red, and it’s, “My dear boy, I’m so sorry for the mess. We just need your help with one little thing…”

And maybe Percy hesitates for a second? Uncertainty creeps in, and a lulling chill…

Then our Percy - still brown-haired, nineteen or twenty years old at best, lost his entire family in one night - rolls his nat 20 and stands up straight, glares right back, spits in their faces and snarls with all the carefully enunciated aristocratic pride he has ever learned, “Fuck. You.”

(Delilah slaps him hard across the face, and accepts Dr. Ripley’s offer to try more “conventional” means of getting answers.)

So I made a discovery in the latest SaM update

Basically I was messing a bit around in my editing program with this panel from the update

And sure it’s just the hell eyes that we all know and hate but I randomly just turned up the brightness and - 

The eyes actually have god damn people shape like, I should have seen this coming but it just made this panel much more unsettling so thanks for that Orange.

anonymous asked:

I just realized.... wtf happened to his spider senses???? There were so many moments during the film (like ant man taking back the shield) that nothing happened no spidey senses w t f

They actually mentioned Peter’s senses when he was talking to Tony in his room.

“When whatever happened, happened… It’s like my senses have been dialled to 11. There’s way too much input so, they (the goggles) just kind of help me focus.”

You can even see in a scene when his spidey sense works. His eyes narrow and you can hear the shutters in his eyes focus and he senses that thing Bucky threw at him even though it didn’t make a noise.

I actually made 2 GIFsets on my personal account, one of all the amazing stuff spidey did throughout the movie, and one with all the times he messed up.

As for the specific scene you’re talking about, Scott owning him, Peter says “Guys… Something–” until he gets hit. So he knew Scott was there before anyone else but he didn’t act fast enough on it.

And I absolutely LOVE how much he messed up.

He mentions how he only got his powers 6 months ago. Plus he’s 15. PLUS this was probably his first intense battle.

I love that he’s still very much a rookie and still trying to understand the powers he was given. While I love the Toby and Andrew’s spidey movies, they were so perfect as spidey as soon as they were bitten.

I love seeing this clumsy, swearing boy who is just trying to do his best. We’ll see him get better and better like we are on this journey with him. We get to see him grow and become possibly one of the strongest Avengers. But right now he is a kid who has only had these gifts for half a year and has no idea what he’s doing, and I love it.

You probably didn’t want an essay but I gave ya one anyways, haha.

3

Wincest AU: Dean’s not great with the whole “chick-flick moments” thing, but sometimes there are no words to say.

I can’t handle this kind of
heartbreak again
I had almost forgetting what it felt like
I was glad it was behind me
I thought I’d never have to
deal with it again
Until my world started crashing
down once again
It’s like déjà vu
Hysterically crying
My eyes are so swollen
With my head pounding
But I can’t stop crying
It feels like my heart is being
ripped out
I can’t take this feeling
How are you ever supposed to
trust someone
And believe that something can actually work
When they all just give up on you
How did I ever survive this
in the first place
So here I am at square one once again
A big emotional mess
Not sure what the fuck
I’m supposed to do next
—  Chapters from my life

And on a puzzleshipping note, if you think I’m ever gonna be over Yugi’s speech about missing Atem and letting him know what he meant to him, you, my friend, are sadly mistaken. You can play that speech at my funeral.

And also the fact that although the whole movie was about getting Atem back and Kaiba doing anything and everything to achieve that, not once during all did Atem make any sort of appearance (minus the scene with Joey) but the moment Yugi is about to fall, he descends from the sky looking like a goddamn guardian angel about to fuck you up for messing with his boy (for real, I’m not over how pissed he looked and his eyes looked like they did during the duel with Weevel in s04 when he thought Yugi’s soul was destroyed like damn).

You used to like me and my messed up hair. You used to like me when I didn’t get all dressed up and fancy to go on our dates. You used to like me when I’d wake up in the morning and yawned in the middle of our too early conversations. You used to like me when I smiled at you for no reason. You used to like me when I sang out loud despite my trashy vocals. You used to like me and my corny jokes. You used to like my eyes and my face and the way I looked in general. Now you think it’s too difficult to run your hands through my curly hair. Now you consider me lazy for not dressing up and you think I’m rude for yawning in the middle of your morning sentences. You think it’s weird when I smile at you out of the blue and now my singing just gets on your nerves. My jokes are cringe-worthy and you no longer look me in my eyes or even my face. But I’m begging you, please - remember that you used to like all of that. Please.
—  t. edana talbott // messed up hair
Can I hold you?

“Can I hold you?”
We are facing each other on two separate pillows, our legs woven together.

The room is dark, headlights from the freeway outside of your window light up your eyes.
One by one the cars create shadows that dance on your face.

I want to say
“Hold me? Could you hold all the pieces of me he shattered? I don’t remember how many pieces there are, I’ve lost count. It’s a mess in here.
I’m scared - completely terrified of the hole he left.
I’m afraid it will grow until I completely disappear.
Ive been waiting for you. Hold me. together. I’m tired of breaking.”

I say “yes” instead.
I inch closer and weave my legs in tighter. You sigh with relief, like I may have answered no, that I was too broken to hold.

@neuromagpie​ and i were talking about chirrut and baze and how they are peak Gay Married In Space, so here’s some headcanons from that conversation:

  • they’ve been married for 30 years. they switch back and forth between delighting in introducing each other as “my husband” and pretending they don’t know each other in order to mess with people
  • they also constantly give each other shit
  • chirrut complains about baze almost shooting him. baze rolls his eyes about chirrut’s praying, especially because it seems to work. 
  • “i keep telling him not to fight 15 people at once. why does he keep winning. is he just doing it to prove me wrong”–baze, probably
  • baze isn’t actually all that interested in fighting. he prefers gardening, but chirrut keeps starting shit, so baze ended up with the World’s Biggest Gun in order to keep him safe (and defend his garden)
  • they clean each other up after fights and then cuddle. chirrut helps baze out of his gun harness–he doesn’t need to see to do it, he’s done it so many times–and leans in, brushes baze’s hair away from his neck and presses his face against it
  • of course, when the empire shows up on jedha, they destroy most growing things, including baze’s garden
  • chirrut finds baze looking out over the smoldering remains. he puts his hand on baze’s shoulder. “i’m gonna punch all of them in the throat,” he says solemnly. baze puts his head in his hands. he loves his husband.