my first attempt at something like this

I think I’m going to suspend my legacy.

Hello folks. I think I’m going to suspend my legacy because I haven’t really been getting any enjoyment out of playing it lately. It also doesn’t seem to be getting too much interest from folks, so I’d like to focus on something else. I’ve got another idea I’m working on that I think will be more interesting to follow, so I’m going to attempt to flesh that out first. Today’s been kind of bleh, and I’m going to extend my hiatus. I’ll still be lurking though.

Avengers X Reader: Mirror Mirror

Originally posted by robertsdowneystark

Request: Hey I really like your writing!! I was wondering if you could write an Avengers x reader where the reader is a shapeshifter and is bored one day so she starts messing with the others by changing into different teammates? Thank you!!

I hope you like it! Thanks for my very first request!!! I really appreciate it! I don’t know if this is totally what you meant, but this is the direction I took it. Let me know what you think!

Y/N sprawled herself over the couch in the Avengers Tower in a futile attempt to fend off boredom. On days, like this, when the world didn’t need saving, Y/n had found that life could just get so ordinary. It seemed like everyone else always had something to do on days like this leaving Y/n to herself. Alone time was nice sometimes, one could only take so much of people *ahem Tony Stark*, but it always seemed like the days she didn’t want to be alone everyone else was occupied. Tony and Bruce were in the lab being geniuses, Thor was in either Asgard or New Mexico, Steve was trying to catch up on everything he’d missed since he was frozen, and Clint and Natasha were training. They were in a constant state of training. Natasha always offered Y/n to join them, but you could only have your butt kicked so many times before the fun wore off. It wasn’t that Y/n wasn’t tough, she could definitely hold her own in a fight, but Natasha always insisted she learned to fight without her powers so she could become a better fighter which meant that Black Widow, the trained assassin, was sure to win. There was no point in practicing using her powers either. Y/n was a shape shifter, and had been born with her powers so by now, they were second nature.

Thinking of her powers, an idea suddenly came to her, and Y/n bolted upright from the couch with a wicked grin. How had she never thought of using her powers on her teammates? She went to the lab first and got Tony’s attention by transforming into Pepper and making a motion for him to come over to her. She then quickly hid and waited for Tony to leave confused searching for where Pepper went. Y/n then shape shifted to look like Tony and entered the lab.

“Bruce!” She yelled causing him to jump and turn around.

“What? You could have caused me to destroy my entire-” He started gesturing to whatever science-y thing he was working on but Y/n interrupted him.

“It’s important.” She added a dramatic pause for effect, “What so you think of these pants? Do they make my butt look big?” Y/n could hardly keep herself from laughing finding it too funny to hear Tony’s voice saying whatever she was saying.

Bruce ran a hand over his face annoyed, but before he could respond the real Tony walked back in.

“Have you seen Pepper-” He stopped as he looked at Y/n who looked identical to him.

“Bruce someone’s made a copy of me!” Y/n yelled. “And look at how handsome he is too. Maybe i should just stare at myself all day. Or now I could actually marry myself? You know that has secretly been my life long dream.”

The real tony frowned at Y/n, so she frowned back.

“Now hold on.” Tony said crossing his arms. Y/n repeated him and crossed her arms too. She soon began mimicking every movement and watching as Tony’s frustration grew. Bruce was now laughing slightly having figured out that you were Y/n.

“Look I’m Tony Stark’s live action mirror!” She yelled and danced around before him just out of reach.

“That’s it, I am gonna get you!” Tony yelled and lunged forward.

Y/n quickly transformed back into herself and ran out of Tony’s reach. Now it was time to find another Avenger to mess with. She found Steve watching a movie and she grinned when she realized it was a horror film. Glancing at the screen she quickly changed into the monster from the movie and snuck up behind Steve on the couch.

“Boo!” She yelled causing Steve to jump and scream. Shape shifting back into herself she laughed. “You scream like a little girl Rodgers!” Before he could react, she ran away again, this time in search of Clint and Natasha.

Natasha was training (of course) and Clint was perched on top of some of the training equipment trying to shoot while keeping his balance. Y/n quickly shape shifted into the Hulk and banged on her (his I guess since she’s Hulk now) chest gorilla style. Both Clint and Natasha turned towards Y/n weapons aimed. Maybe that wasn’t her best choice of disguise. She quickly transformed back into herself arms raised in surrender. As she did the rest of the team she’d been teasing all morning came flooding into the training room.

“There she is!” Tony yelled.

“Now guys, let’s not be too hasty.” She said taking a few steps back.

The others seemed as determined as ever, smirking at her as they planned their revenge. She tried transforming into Steve in his full Captain America get up.

“As your leader. I command you stop in the name of justice!” She said using extra ridiculous gestures. “God bless America, get me a bald eagle and that.”

Tony snickered at her impression of Steve. Steve grinned as an idea came to his mind.

“Why Y/n, you’re so good at impersonating all of us, I bet you could do all of our dishes for us too.” He smirked.

“Now wait a sec–” She tried to interrupt.

“She could probably do all our laundry too.” Clint grinned joining in.

By the end of the day she was buried in dirty dishes and the other avengers kept making laundry deliveries to her.

“This isn’t the end of this.” She warned them teasingly. As she did the dishes she was already planning her next prank.


character poster  camilla macaulay

“she was still a girl, a slight lovely girl who lay in bed and ate chocolates, a girl whose hair smelled like hyacinth and whose scarves fluttered jauntily in the breeze.”

I asked my mom to name some of the Underverse characters (Sans)

I promised to do this thanks to @ munchkinthefandomcat and their Dad post.

Mom doesn’t know so much about Undertale and Underverse, so this is my first attempt trying to involve her in my current job lol.

So, this is the result. Mom gave them a name and a…profession? or something like that?

Fell is just Olafo XD.

- You did your best, Mom XD.

Note: “Chaparrín” is a spanish term for “short”.  It could be used for a really short person or even for a lovely nickname.

Day Fifty-Five

-Thirty minutes into my shift, I had only been visited by one guest. This was comforting at first, but then I realized this was simply the calm before the storm. I am going to savor every minute of this Black Friday Eve Ever as much as I can.

-I found an elderly woman spending her morning toying with me. Each time I would attempt to step away from my register to take care of something, she would begin to approach me, only to walk away again once I returned. She spent a solid five minutes playing at this game, pretending to peruse the endcap displays, leaving me looking like a chump time and time again. 

-A woman stopped mid-payment to stare at the sky and remark, “I don’t know if it’s just me or if it’s everyone my age, but sometimes I just have to stand here and shout out my phone number.” She did not shout out her phone number at any point, leaving me somehow with more questions than if she had. 

-I befriended the single #1 most adorable baby in the history of the world. She emitted a very excited squeak as I handed her a sticker, eagerly repeated the word “dog,” clutched it to her face, and immediately fell asleep on it.

-An older woman sprinted into my lane in slow-motion, throwing her arms in the air as if praising a miracle and announcing to me that my wait has ended. I was waiting for something to change my life forever, and she was right. 

-I went to retrieve an abandoned cart left at the end of my lane, but just as I was about to start pushing it, the elderly woman who had been taunting me earlier in my shift jumped up from the ground to claim it, having been entirely unseen. Clearly, my store has a poltergeist who is far too committed to tormenting me and my too-tired-for-an-opening-shift self.

-A man became upset as he found that he had to use the chip reader. He adamantly refused to do so, telling me that “the Internet says chips are dangerous.” I attempted to reason with him, telling him that the Internet also says that the Holocaust never happened, but rather than seeing my point, he stared at me and told me that he already knew that. 

-From an adjacent lane, I heard a man tell the cashier that “Y’all here will never be Cracker Barrel.” He is not wrong by any means, as retail and dining are entirely different industries and it would be definitively wrong if our establishments were the same. Having said that, we would undoubtedly crush them in any competition.

Girls Night | Wanda Maximoff/ Natasha Romanoff |

Anonymous requested: Hey! Can I request a smutty Wanda x Natasha x Reader threesome? Like maybe they’re having a girls night out at the club and it gets hot, so they head back to the reader’s place? Thank you xx
Sure thing sweet cakes! This my first attempt at a smutty threesome, but I am going to try my hardest for you.

Summary: Normally ‘Girls Night’ consisted of staying at yours and eating junk food and watching movies, but this time Natasha wants to do something different. Besides, clubs are always fun, right?

Warnings: This is pure filth. Face-sitting, eating out, fingering, tribbing, ménage à trois, dirty talk, hair-pulling, choking, masturbation, swearing, alcohol consumption, semi-public foreplay.

Originally posted by capntony

Originally posted by queenturtle14

“Tonight, ladies, we are doing something different!” Natasha exclaimed as she burst into the room, making you and Wanda jump.

“Like what?” You asked, worried about what she had in mind. Her kind of different could be anything from going out to leading an interrogation. She smirked and held up three dresses and make up.

“We are going to a club.” She stated, making both you and Wanda grin. It had been so long since you’d been to a club, and what better way to celebrate the end of one of the toughest missions yet than going out with your best friends.

Keep reading

Let me talk for a second.

Let me recap for you the first time I ever
held another’s hand; working my fingers
around theirs like a master weaver, veins
threading together in tight stitches. Candy
pressed into my palm, the bones sugary
sweet just beneath skin. No wonder I always
wanted to taste the tips, nail grazing tooth
slowly like savoring something decadent.
And he was.

Let me talk for a second.

Let me remind you of what it’s like to feel
closure. Crawling into a freezer, ice licking
at my eyelashes and frostbite attempting
to make friends with my toes. I have a friend
padlock it behind me. Trap me in, tie me
down. I turn glacier; solid, slow-moving, but
m e l t i n g. My water is collected and swallowed
down by pride. Left to ice over again.
Only the right tools can chip away at my
body now.

Let me talk for a second.

Let me show you what love is supposed to
feel like. Calm wind shifting linen curtains from
an open window, clean sheets tangled around
naked bodies. Teeth marks engraved into
collarbones, lazy arms tosses over shoulders,
the lingering high of comfort drifting through
the air. The walls of this room doesn’t make it
feel like home, but the one lying next to you,
rather. The softness extends far deeper than
the mattress.
The warmth feels eternal.

Let me talk for a second.
Let me get one word in.
Let me, let me, let me
convince you it is okay
to feel things as wholly
and certainly as you do.

—  listen to me for once // Haley Hendrick
A Place to Fit (Thomas Jefferson/Reader)

Prompt: hey can you write an insecure reader who feels more comfortable with the confident Thomas Jefferson around, until a friend admits to liking him, and the reader can’t help comparing herself to the friend and feeling like she falls short?

Note: This is my first attempt to write something set during the show’s actual time period. Mostly I just tried to avoid any glaring anachronisms (because your girl knows very little about Revolutionary-era America). I did write this as though everyone was still young and single post-war, because I’m not willing to sacrifice the mental image of Daveed Diggs for historical accuracy.

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson/Reader

Rating: G

Words: 2521

Keep reading

My Impression Of You

A/N: So, this is my first attempt to write a Riverdale one-shot! I was inspired to write this after I listened to some music and I hope you’ll like it! Archie’s personality is something I wonder about a lot while watching Riverdale and I explore that here. Please let me know what you think about it and if you’d like to read more! xo

Plot: Your perfectly normal day gets disturbed by Archie Andrews, one of the popular kids you usually only observe from a distance. Suddenly, though, you have one of the deepest conversations of your life and maybe have to revise your opinion about him.

Originally posted by archic-andrews

It was a usual Friday afternoon when Archie Andrews decided to disturb your life. A wonderfully normal day in Riverdale like every other day, at least before Jason Blossom was murdered. You kept to yourself throughout the morning periods, as usually, ate your lunch in the sun under the big oak tree and pretty much spent the whole day thinking about how you could improve the stage design for the newest play the little drama group at your school was planning. That was your thing. Making props, painting them, working on them in peace and alone. That was what you loved most.

Only that Friday afternoon it didn’t go down like that. You sat down to continue painting the majestic tree that would be at the centre of the stage in act three, biting your lower lip, frowning and placing brush marks here and there in highest concentration. Forgetting pretty much everything around you or just blending it out because it didn’t matter in that moment. That’s why he caught you off guard when he cleared his throat to get your attention.

You twitched and turned around, staring at Archie Andrews standing there with a curious expression, grasping the strap of his backpack and wearing that blue and yellow football jacket that you never really liked. You just never got why they felt the need to wear them 24/7. Maybe to show their status, which didn’t make them appear any more sympathetic in your eyes.

“Ehm…did you lose your way?”, you asked him because nobody ever came into that room. Especially no popular kid. Never.

Archie raised his eyebrows in surprise and hurried to answer. “Oh, no, I was searching for the props department. That’s right here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…what do you need?” You were absolutely aware of the fact that you sounded a little hostile but you couldn’t help yourself. Archie had never talked to you before. You doubted that he had even noticed you before. You only knew his voice from scraps of conversation you took up when you passed him in the hallway or, more currently, from when he was singing. He was one of the people who never really hurt others, or at least don’t attempt to do so, but also rest themselves in their social status without looking at those who surround them. At least that’s what you thought.

“Well, I thought I could do this as an extracurricular activity”, he explained, still without moving an inch. It was obvious that your reaction scared him away a little.

“But you’re in the football team”, you stated irritated.

“Yeah. So?”

“So why would you want to join the prop department? Which, by the way, consists of only me.”

“I kinda need the extra credit”, he finally admitted and you sighed to yourself. Of course. That was so typical. They thought painting cardboards was an easy way to gain credits. You actually would’ve been surprised if he had had any passion for this. Well, you didn’t really want to get upset about it because they usually never came back for a second time, so why bother?

“Alright. You can paint this tree over there, I already draw the lines and we can put it somewhere in the background. Just don’t screw up too badly”, you advised him, pointing at a prop in the corner of the room and returning to your own work. He shot you another amazed look before he pulled a chair to the cardboard, placed his backpack next to the door and sat down to start painting.

For a while you worked in silence and you tried to ignore that Archie was there, which was nearly impossible because whatever you could say about him, he definitely had some emission. While you were a person that could easily disappear in a crowd, he wasn’t. Maybe because of the red hair.

“Why are you the only one working on this?”, he asked you at some point without looking at you. It didn’t seem like the mere attempt to do smalltalk but like he was honestly interested in the answer, so you gave it.

“Because nobody gives a damn about theatre in this school”, you said, unable to hide the bitter tone in your voice. “It’s all about music. All about the Pussycats. Or people like you. And no offense, music is a form of art too, it deserves attention! But it’s really annoying that it gets so much of it and drama absolutely none.”

“Well…I don’t think it gets none…”, he mumbled with a frown.

“Really? Have you seen one play since you go to this Highschool?”, you stopped him right there, watching closely while he thought about it. Him pressing his lips together and not giving an answer was answer enough.

“Thought so. Like I said. It’s all about football, the Vixens and music.”

“And you don’t like any of that”, he mused. By now he totally forgot about painting the tree and was simply watching you closely, maybe trying to figure out where all the weirdness and bitterness came from. You were not a victim of bullying or in any way ugly. You just didn’t like those Higschool power games.

You pushed out a little laugh at his statement and shot him an amused look, meeting his warm brown eyes for the first time. “No. That’s not the point. I do like watching football games like every other person. I do like listening to the Pussycats, although it’s not necessarily my type of music. I just…I just don’t like the whole thing surrounding it, you know? All these people enjoying their popularity and the attention others, and with that I mean normal students like me, give them and not even minding to get to know our names. Like we aren’t part of the same school.”

It was confusing that he made you open up like that but it also felt good to get it off your chest. Although it probably wasn’t fair that he was the one receiving all your anger because he really wasn’t the worst of the lot by far.

Archie now looked at you with raised eyebrows. For the first time since he entered the room, a little smile played around his lips. It changed his face very positively.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N”, he suddenly said triumphantly.

You blinked at him, honestly astounded. “What?”

“Y/N. That’s your name. We have been in the same school since first grade, why wouldn’t I know your name?”

His smile widened a bit at your expression and you quickly hid behind your tree, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Although you really were surprised. You hadn’t expected that. Your paths never crossed and you never had the feeling like Archie was particularly aware of your existence.

“Okay, I’ll grant you that. Doesn’t change the bigger picture, though”, you grumbled.

He was silent for another moment and you already thought that you won and finally hushed him when he suddenly asked: “You don’t like me much, do you?” Still the question didn’t sound like he was upset or mad about your behaviour but simply curious.

You sighed once again and rolled your chair aside so you fully faced him. He was returning your gaze attentively, as if you were a particularly interesting object in a museum. You almost blushed but you were able to keep your cool and stare at him as patronizing as possible.

“Look, Archie, it’s not like that. I don’t even really know you. I simply don’t like the fact that everybody thinks people like you are perfect.”

“I’m not perfect”, he shot back automatically.

“Oh, I know.”

You realized too late that that was really offensive. You felt the heat creeping into your cheeks as his mouth dropped open and Archie looked hurt for a moment. He squinted his eyes and ran his fingers through his red hair, probably contemplating how he was supposed to react.

“What do you mean with that?”, he asked you in the end, sounding more careful and restrained than before.

You gulped down your embarrassment and searched for words that could explain what you actually meant.

“Well…I can only tell you what I observed from a distance. But in my opinion you are always really trying to do the right thing and often screw up. There is that thing with Betty. I mean, everybody in this school knows what’s been going on there and she is an absolute sweetheart but you kinda let her down the worst way possible. I am not saying that you don’t like her or respect her but you could’ve done that way more sensible. Especially since you obviously returned from this summer less boyish, whatever the reason for that is.”

Archie listened to you patiently, not interrupting you or getting angry at you which might have been a reasonable reaction to the accusations of a person that he had nothing to do with. It seemed more like he wanted to hear it, like he wondered a lot about himself but needed someone else to deliver conclusions and solutions. You felt your respect for him growing a bit because not many people were able to accept criticism like him.

“I know that I hurt Betty and I really regret that, but I didn’t do it on purpose”, he defended himself in the end, his eyes mirroring the pain he obviously felt about it.

You gave him a little understanding smile. “Of course not. Honestly, Archie, I think your problem is your insecurity. Betty was in a bad place the last few weeks, probably because of her sister or something, I’m not sure, and I gotta say that I was surprised when you weren’t really there for her. I guess you were so indulged in your music and in your fears of not being good enough in what you do. You just don’t believe enough in yourself, which is absurd regarding that everyone around you supports you. You always need people helping you, telling you that you have talent and then you engage in those far too quickly. And with that I mean Victoria and Valerie. Instead of letting them build your confidence, maybe you should learn to build it up on your own.”

You were a little bit confused yourself why you knew so much about him, so you couldn’t judge him for being even more irritated. You both totally forgot why you were here and simply sat in that room and looked at each other while Archie was processing what you just said. If he decided to simply run away now you would’ve understood. But he didn’t.

“Fair enough. I guess I have to think about it. There is one thing I don’t get, though: you seem to be interested in what’s happening around you, in the people that surround you. You even said that Betty is an absolute sweetheart, but you never returned her attempts to make conversation. So why don’t you mingle more and at least try to share your passion with others?”, he investigated, now sitting on the edge of his chair, his body tensed as if he found this dialogue quite fascinating.

It was the first time that you were on the defensive side and you immediately felt uneasy when he spoke about your persona. You were a lot better at reflecting others than yourself. You bit your lower lip and instead of keeping to look at him, your gaze returned to your half-finished tree. That made answering a little bit easier.

“Well, I guess I have to think about it.”

You missed the smirk that appeared on Archie’s face as you repeated his retort. He watched you for some time while you started to paint again, caught up in his own thoughts that you produced with your words. He didn’t have such an intense conversation for a very long time.

As the bell rang, both of you almost jumped. Man, that hour passed quickly. You were almost sorry when Archie got up from his chair and threw his backpack over his shoulder. And you were annoyed at yourself for that. But this exchange of words was the most interesting and intimate thing that happened to you in quite some time.

“This definitely turned out different than I thought but it was entertaining. I’ll see you next week”, he told you, grinning at you before he left the room. Although he didn’t look mad you were pretty sure that he wouldn’t return for another session. Little did you know that you awoke Archie’s curiosity. And little did you realize how much he awoke yours.

anonymous asked:

Hi! :) Can you help me out? I'm searching for an original prompt for a first kiss. In my novel it's about two teenage guys, but more general would also be okay. Thanks a lot!

1) The kiss is a messy, graceless, eager thing. Fingers tangled in hair, stifled groans because it seemed impossible that something so simple as lips upon lips could feel like this. He shuffled even closer to deepen the kiss. He’d thought a kiss would leave him satisfied, but now he wants more than ever. 

2) The first attempt is so ridiculous that we end up laughing when we bump noses, bumping heads the second time.
“Oh for god’s sake, hold still,” he said. He caught hold of my chin, making sure I stayed put, and then leaned in carefully to press a quick, sweet kiss to my mouth. Eyes dark, and cheeks burning. “There.” 

3) They approached the kiss one might approach a startled deer - move too fast, with anything other than breathless tentativeness, and the moment might skitter away into the night. It was dark. The thump of the party felt suddenly distant, as if the rest of the world could have vanished. All that was left was the sound of breathing, of hearts pounding, of the cold seeping through his jeans where they sat and the seeming-blazing heat of the fingers that cupped the back of his neck by comparison. His lips were even warmer.  

Sometimes when I’m writing, and I feel stuck, I do something that’s creatively a little different to shake loose my brains.

So I decided to play around with fake tilt-shifting in GIMP, and I made this, using the Beatles’ performance on top of Abbey Road in like 1972 or 1973 or whatever the Apple studio in 1969. It’s not great, but it’s not bad for my first ever attempt at doing it.