“Do you want to grab dinner?” Dean asks hopefully.
His date with Castiel is going swimmingly and Dean doesn’t want the night to end just yet.
And neither does Cas if the way his eyes light up is any indication.
“Yeah, of course,” Cas says, shoving his hands into his coat’s pockets. “There’s this really great pizza place a few blocks down if you don’t mind making the trek.”
It wasfreezing, sure, but Dean didn’t want to say goodnight yet so he was going to brave the cold. Turning up his collar he says, “Come on, lead the way.”
“I swear it’s worth it,” Cas reassures him as they make their way down the street shivering. “You don’t have to order full pizzas. You can get individual slices so that way you can have more than one flavor.”
“How’d you find it?” Dean asks curiously. “I’ve clearly never been.”
“It was an accident, really.” Castiel runs a hand through his hair and Dean’s heart skips a beat. “I was going to my brother’s bakery and I could smell the pizza from out on the street.”
“You’re a big fan of pizza, aren’t you?” Dean teases, nudging Cas with his elbow.
“It’s good pizza!” Cas exclaims, smile big and gummy, and seriously, Dean’s heart is about to fucking give. “And, because of all the pizza ovens, the place is warm,” he says enticingly.
They turn a corner and, yeah, that’s definitely pizza that Dean can smell. He doesn’t realize that he’s literally sniffing until Cas smirks and says, “I told you so.”
Cas was right. The place smells like Heaven and is warm as Hell. As soon as they enter a girl with bright red hair shows up.
“Hey, Cas,” she greets him, nods a hello at Dean and turns back to Cas. “Your usual?”
“Yes, thank you, Anna,” Cas says to her before taking Dean’s hand and making his way to the serving counter. “There are millions of options.”
“And yet you have a usual,” Dean says absently, more focused on the, seemingly, millions of options. “Man, this is going to be like choosing between Star Wars and Star Trek.”
“You can come back for different flavors,” Cas repeats. “I’ll go catch us a table, yeah?”
Dean hums in acknowledgment even though he’d rather be holding Cas’ hand. After scanning his options one last time, Dean picks a slice of plain old pepperoni and makes his way to where Cas is.
He sits down just as Anna plops Cas’ pizza in front of him and-
“Dude, no!” Dean exclaims.
“What.” Cas pauses, pizza halfway to his mouth.
“There is pineapple on your pizza.”
Cas rolls his eyes. “I am prepared to argue about this till the end of time itself.”
“So am I,” Dean says, just as determinedly. “What kinda life choices man…”
“Pineapples have tons of health benefits,” Cas tells him.
“You’re eating pizza!” Dean counters. “I’m pretty sure anybody eating pizza isn’t really thinking about their health.”
“Well, I don’t see the problem,” Castiel asserted. “It’s sweet and savory at the same time.”
“Why would you pay extra for people to put that monstrosity on such deliciousness?” Dean asks, sounding genuinely worried about Cas’ logic.
“Ugh, Dean, what-” Castiel starts indignantly before a glass of soda is placed in front of him.
“Don’t you two fight like an old married couple?” Anna says.
“This is our first date, actually,” Dean tells her feeling a smile making his way onto his face. He really likes Cas.
“Couldn’t have guessed myself,” Anna smirks, walking away.
Turning to Cas, Dean holds out his hand, sighing. “Truce?”
Cas stares at him for a moment before leaning over the table and kissing him. Dean’s a hundred and ten percent sure his heart is going to combust because, oh my god, he’s kissing Cas. He doesn’t even mind the awkward angle or the fact that he can taste the pineapple Cas has been eating.
Cas pulls away and smiles down at his lap before looking up at Dean. “Truce.”
“Just remember that every time you put pineapple on a pizza an Italian dies.”
Commissioned by @summylise! Thanks so much and I hope you enjoy it <3
Works count: 7.5K
PS: If you want to feel like I felt, when you get to the fifth scene, start playing “Sign of the Times” by Harry Styles!
Natsu stares through the glass, throat tight as he drinks in
the sight of her, mapping every new curve and freckle on her skin. She’s still
as beautiful as he remembers, even after all these years, but that’s not what
matters to him. No, she’s alive, and that’s more than he could have hoped for.
Lucy’s alive and here and he can see her chest moving with every breath she
takes, her lips pursed in defiance as she stares down Detective Clive, her gaze
bright and as intelligent and shrewd as he remembers. She looks absolutely
fierce and he chokes up at the sight, releasing a shaky exhale and wiping at
his eyes when Gray isn’t looking.
He just wishes that she wasn’t sitting on the opposite side
of the interrogation room’s glass.
“It’s really her,” Natsu murmurs, voice low and gruff, more
strained than he’s ever heard it. His palm presses against the glass, throat
tightening with emotion when Lucy glances around the room, brushing her long
hair away from her eyes. She looks at the glass—to her, a mirror—and, though
unknowingly, her gaze locks with his, honey eyes softening just the slightest,
as if she knows he’s staring back at her. “She’s alive,” he continues, more to
himself than anything.
The look Gray sends him is sympathetic and Natsu hates it,
but he keeps his mouth shut, knowing he won’t be let in if he picks a fight
with Gray over nothing. God, he’s missed her, and she’s right here in front of
him, and he can’t do anything. He barely hears Gray’s affirmative, turning to
look at his partner quickly, the question slipping from his lips without him
meaning to ask. “Can I talk to her?” he asks, voice cracking.
He knows his chances aren’t good. She’s gotten into
something deep, something dangerous, but he’ll be damned before he lets her
disappear again. He needs to talk to her—needs to touch her and make sure this
isn’t just a dream. He’s had them before. He knows how real they can be, but in
his head she always disappears before he can hold her, before he can tell her
“That’s why we called you in,” Gray tells him, clapping him
on the back and sending him a small, strained smile. He knows. Gray’s been with
him since their academy days, so he knows: about Lucy, about the night she
disappeared, about the six years Natsu spent trying to find her, hoping to
whatever gods might be up there that she’d come home.
He simply nods, not trusting himself to speak. Gray reaches
out, tapping on the glass three times in rapid succession. Gildarts glances up,
looking towards the door. He murmurs something to Lucy, who frowns, expression
twisting into one of confusion. She watches Gildarts stand, his back to her as
he leaves the room.
The door clicks open, Gildarts slipping through. He gives
Natsu a brief nod before turning to Gray, dismissing him, and Natsu takes the chance
to slip through the door without another word.
She doesn’t notice him at first, her gaze directed at the
table. It’s not until he walks up to the table, coming around to stand on her
side and ignoring the offered chair, that she looks up, gaze hard and icy. She
recognizes him a moment later, the ferocity leaving her expression as she
stares up at him. Lucy’s mouth drops open, lips parting just the slightest when
she sees him. She mouths his name, eyes never leaving his as she twists around
to face him.
Natsu just stands there, drinking her in, wanting nothing
more than to pull her into his arms, but knowing that he can’t—shouldn’t. She’s
in here because she’s been arrested, and he knows that things aren’t the same
as they were six years ago. They aren’t about to curl up together on his couch,
watching movies until the A.M. and stealing kisses between scenes. God, but he
wishes they were. Six years he’s spent missing her, six years he’s spent
wondering if she was even alive, now here she is, and Natsu can’t even touch
She leans back in her chair, swallowing down the lump in her
throat. Her eyes glisten when she sees him, and he almost reaches out to wipe
away her tears, catching himself at the last moment. Her gaze drifts to the
scar on his throat, something new, and he sees her cringe, something horrified
creeping into her eyes. “Natsu Dragneel,” she breathes, voice quivering as she
tastes his name on her tongue.
He wonders if she repeats it to herself at night like he
does, whispering her name in the darkness, lest he forget how it sounds.
“So you do remember me,” he jokes, voice cracking. There’s
no humor to it. Neither laugh at his pathetic attempt, but he does see a
familiar light reach her eyes, brightening them. Her lips quirk at the edges,
not quite a smile, but as close as he thinks he’ll get. He wets his lips, hand
pressed against the tabletop to ground himself—to keep him from pulling her
into his arms and never letting go.
Random prompt: by the time Mulder reaches Scully in Small Potato's it's too late and she's already making out with Eddie
This was much harder to write than I anticipated. Wow. Set, obviously, in Small Potatoes. Tagging @fictober and @today-in-fic.
Mulder is sure that he’s either just stepped into a dream or
a nightmare: there on her couch is Scully and she is making out with… him. At
least that’s what she must be thinking. It takes him two seconds (though it
feels like two millions), to slam the door behind him, run over and drag that
pervert off of Scully.
“What the…” Scully’s voice sounds like rich, dark
wine. Her lips, oh, he shouldn’t have looked there; swollen, glistening wet and
so very red. When Eddie stumbles and falls to the ground, his appearance
changes into his own and there he is, staring at Scully, who gasps before she
gets sick all over her coffee table. Eddie starts crawling towards the door and
Mulder catches him before he gets there. He hoists him up and his anger
threatens to overwhelm him.
“Mulder, don’t.” He turns to Scully, still on her
couch, her face red, her eyes bloodshot. Mulder swallows the need to strangle
Eddie van Blundth right here, right now.
“I’m sorry.” The man mumbles and sounds like a
child. Mulder, however, feels no sympathy. He wants to punch him, hurt him,
kill him. The rage runs through him like a current; the only thing stopping him
is Scully’s presence.
“Call the police, Scully.” He hears rather than
sees her grab the phone and make the call. Then she is by his side. For a
moment she just stands there and Mulder wishes he knew what she’s thinking. Her
hand, balled into a fist, comes up and Eddie closes his eyes, expecting the
punch. But it doesn’t come. Eddie whimpers, waits and despairs, but Scully
doesn’t hit him.
“I feel sorry for you.” She says, throws Mulder a
look and then disappears into the bathroom. The door closes with a soft click. Mulder
stares at Eddie who seems more baffled than sorry. Mulder’s anger is still
there, apparent in his tight grip, but it no longer consumes him. He wants to
be with Scully now, comfort her, talk to her. This man, this pervert, doesn’t
deserve his time. Mulder knows that Scully will have to give a statement.
She’ll have to come out of the bathroom at some point, face this again. When
Eddie lifts his head, it hits Mulder; Scully was kissing him. Right before
their lips met, Scully looked at his face, at Mulder’s face, and decided that
she wanted this.
“I did you a favor you know.” Eddie says and that’s
when Mulder loses it. He punches Eddie in the face, self-defense, he’ll call it
and Eddie won’t refute it.
Hours later, after they’ve given their statements, Mulder and
Scully reunite in the police lobby. Scully eyes him warily, Mulder tries to
“Let’s go home, huh?” Scully nods and follows him.
They don’t speak. Not one word is uttered in the car. Fifteen minutes of
silence that’s not even interrupted by the radio. He parks his car in front of
Scully’s building, leaves the seatbelt on and makes no move to get out of the
car himself. Neither does Scully. She glances up at her window where the lights
shine through. No one thought about turning them off.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner.”
“None of this is your fault, Mulder.” It feels like
his fault, though. Eddie van Blundth imitated him, took over his life. He feels
responsible. “I should have known it wasn’t you. I guess I…” But she
trails off. How well do you ever know a person, really? Four years together and
Scully could still be persuaded by an imposter. The thought makes him sick. He
knows he won’t sleep tonight. Closing his eyes, he’ll still see it. His body,
his arms, legs and face, so close to Scully’s. Their lips moving against each
other’s hungrily. Scully holding on to his – Eddie’s – arm as she kissed him,
tasted him, and let him do the same to her.
“I’m not sure I want to go home.” Scully tells him.
“Where do you want to go instead? Your mom’s?” She
shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything else. “Do you want me to take
you to a hotel?” Another shake of her head.
“My apartment?” He’s taking a chance with this and
he knows it. After all they’ve been through today, he figures, it doesn’t
matter anymore. She’s made out with him – or someone she thought was him – so the
least he can do is offer her a place to stay.
“No, I… I guess I have to face this. Go home and… just
forget about it.” Just this once Mulder doesn’t want to forget about it.
They’re good at shoving their feelings aside; they hide them behind smiles, in
cupboards, closets and under rugs. This time he wants to put them on the table.
“I’m not sure I can forget it. I’m not sure I want
“Mulder, I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“What did he say?”
“What did he say that made you want to kiss him –
“We just talked and then…”
“Then you weren’t talking anymore.” Mulder mumbles.
“We never talk like that, Mulder. That should have been
my first clue. You never come over with a bottle of wine wanting to talk.”
“Do you want me to come over with a bottle of wine? We
talk all day, Scully.” Except right now. Silence climbs into the car, sits
between them, and waits.
“I should go. Thank you for taking me home,
Mulder.” She removes her seatbelt and is out of the car in a heartbeat.
Mulder is slower, his brain and muscles not cooperating, before he follows her.
In a few long strides, he is by her side. Scully, though, doesn’t stop walking,
barely acknowledges him so he follows her upstairs. She leaves the door open
for him and he steps inside. The air is thick with the smell of red wine and
the sweet-sour stench of puke.
“I drank too much. I shouldn’t have… I should have…”
Scully kicks at the empty wine bottle. He gets her frustration. If either of
them were of sound mind now, they’d know that the blame lay solely with Eddie
van Blundth. Instead they’re standing here in the disaster the man left behind
while guilt gnaws at them.
“You wanted this, right?” Scully turns to him, her
eyes flickering angrily at him.
“You think I wanted this?”
“No! Scully, no. I mean you said you thought it was
me,” he waits for her to understand him and when she nods, he knows she
does, “so you wanted me, the real me, to… kiss you. Or was that just a
spur of the moment thing because he was so charming?” A dream or a
nightmare, Mulder thinks again, much like he did earlier this evening.
“I wanted to kiss you. You, Mulder. Yes, I may have been
influenced by the wine and the way you – he – listened and cared. But it was
you, Mulder. It was you I wanted to kiss.” He walks towards her now,
slowly, deliberately, and she doesn’t take her eyes off of him. He puts his
hands on her face and lowers his head. Before their lips touch, he pauses to
give her an out. Instead she is the one who puts her lips on his, dares to make
the first step, and kiss him.
“Mulder, I can’t.” The one to start it, the one to
end it, too. There are tears in her voice and then in her eyes; they fall
between them, land on his lips and he tastes the salty desperation. “I
want to. I really want to kiss you, Mulder. The real you. I just… can’t shake
off what happened tonight.”
“I’m sorry, Scully. I didn’t mean to-” A finger on
his lips stops him.
“Don’t be sorry, Mulder. Please. I want this and I’m
pretty certain you want this, too,” they smile at each other, “I’m
not saying no. I’m just saying not tonight.” Mulder sighs, nods. He hates
Eddie van Blundth, hates him with every fiber of his being.
“Not tonight.” He confirms.
“Just to tide you – and me – over…” Scully says and
trails off, leans forward and kisses him again; a promise of things to come.
Part 2 of the ‘Elain comes to the Spring Court post-acomaf’ + fake dating, sort of + extreme angst elucien fic! rated T for being really sad. like, I’M dying, and I’m the one willfully inflicting this on us all.
All the air goes out of the room. Lucien is so uncomprehending he’s sure he must have misheard her. “What?”
The designated meeting spot is a clearing near the border, a vague approximation of neutral territory. Tamlin stocks it so full of guards, some Hybern’s men, some their own (is there a difference anymore?) that the whole field glints with weapons, like they’re launching into battle. Rhys brings the shadowsinger and the blonde woman, three figures in black against an army of gold. Lucien gets the distinct impression it’s still not a fight the spring court would win.
The emissary assigned to the task approaches the High Lord of Night and exchanges a few words of formality, Tamlin standing stoic behind a line of soldiers—the word coward flashes hot through Lucien’s mind, and he tries half-heartedly to crush the thought. Next to him, Feyre’s eyes are locked on Rhysand, her expression unreadable. Tamlin shifts to put an arm around her and for a moment, it looks like she might break, tear the arm off and run to Rhys and end the whole charade right there, but she doesn’t. She recovers and gives him a weak smile.
Lucien can’t make out the words of the emissary, but Rhys nods, makes a gesture to the blonde, who winnows away. Lucien feels his heart jump into his throat against his will. There’s a moment where nothing happens—the trees rustle far above their heads, Rhysand looks cold and imperious, there is the faintest sound of shifting armor from the ranks around them as they wait.
And then the woman returns, holding his mate by the arm.
I need tips for eye makeup! I'm Arab so my skin so dark, especially around my eyes. My bags and my lids. I'm 14 and I love makeup, but I can never do nice natural pretty makeup because my eyes are too dark. I use light concealer to cover my kids as a primer and base but it doesn't seem to work, and neither does white eyeshadow. Most of my friends are light skinned so nice colors like light pinks and neutrals look great, but you can't see hem on me, any tips?
Color correction might be what you need! It will take some practice to find the right shade and amount of product to use but it does work if done properly. Then for natural looking makeup instead of going for light colors use metallics that are the same shade as your skin. On days when I just want natural looking eyeshadow I go for medium toned golds and browns so it just adds a little bit of shimmer and sparkle to my lids without looking super bright or ashy.
Also you can use your dark circles to your advantage. If you conceal under your eyes and not your lids it usually looks like you just have some shadow on your lids. You can then apply a light layer of shimmery gold or brown shadow over you lids for a very natural look.
To get shadow to show up there are a lot of things you can do.
4. You can foil metallic shadows to get them to show up better. I always do this with loose metallic shadows otherwise the shadow goes everywhere. I first pick up some shadow on my brush and then spray it to dampen the shadow. Then I apply the shadow to my lid.
some lapslock in a dream sequence but otherwise i use normal capitalization
bad attempts at humor
im not funny
Gas station lights pollute your thoughts. The pockets of time when the whole world stops, white noise and radio silence, come and go easily, intermingling with the occasional car honk and on-and-off chirps of crickets. You aren’t sure whether they’re the saviors of your loud mind or whether they’re burning holes into your skull and flicking the ashes into your heart. You fiddle with the car door lock, flicking it back and forth with your index finger mindlessly.
The driver’s seat door opens and in slides your what if, your maybe, your hopefully. Fingers stop messing with the lock, reflexively defaulting to running through your hair for a split second before moving to secure your seat belt across your lap. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything, opting, instead, to turn on the engine, check his mirrors, and put his seat belt on. One hand grips the steering as the other rests on your leg, soft denim separating his palm and your knee.
The game is pretty different between the Toei and manga
versions. The DM anime doesn’t include it at all, and neither does Pyramid of
Light, since the Ushio plotline is dropped. It does have Atem fending off the
Duel Monsters as the overdramatic guy he is, which is probably the closest
(sub version. The sub version also shows the monsters being repelled,
there’s just no further dialogue at that point).
In both versions, he repels the monsters with the Puzzle,
they vanish and as the Puzzle settles, Yuugi’s back, looking a little confused
about what just happened.
It doesn’t have much in common with the manga and Toei
versions, but I figured I should round out those scenes (and also show you Atem
being overdramatic because that’s always enjoyable).
In the manga, since Yuugi was at home, there’s a short time
skip after showing him getting possessed, to where Ushio is waiting in the
schoolyard, saying that Yuugi had called him there to meet at midnight (this
telephone call isn’t shown). Atem is just sitting on top of something (not sure
what it is, it has numbers 1 through 4 on it), and greets Ushio. Ushio
comments, saying he doesn’t like the costume. The costume being the black
buckle shirt, the collar, a couple ankhs on the arms, some dark shoes, and
Yuugi’s school uniform. This is in contrast to what Yuugi was wearing earlier
at school, a white polo shirt with his school uniform and white sneakers, and
no collar. And while he was working on the Puzzle he had a hoodie sweatshirt
What Yuugi was wearing at school:
What Yuugi was wearing while working on the Puzzle:
What Atem is wearing as he’s first shown:
Apparently he felt it was necessary to dig through Yuugi’s
clothes and dress up for the occasion. Although I do wonder where he got those
ankhs, they don’t really seem like stuff Yuugi’d have lying around. The collar
and buckle shirt, sure, the shoes, yeah. But the ankhs? And how are they
Anyway, aside from noticing that “Yuugi” is dressed differently,
Ushio asks for the money. Atem says he has double the amount, but that it
wouldn’t be fun to just hand it over, so why don’t they play a game for it?
The Toei anime does things differently, since Yuugi and
Ushio were already at the school when Yuugi solved the Puzzle. As Ushio walks
away, Atem says, unseen, his “It’s Game Time” line. A rope catches around
Ushio, and the world twists so that Ushio is now hanging off the side of a wall
of a tower. He cries out in surprise, and Atem appears at the top of the tower.
Ushio is surprised to see him. Atem greets him and says “I’ve got what you
want, right here.” Ushio assumes that he means he brought the money, and says
that he wouldn’t have needed to beat Yuugi up. He then demands it be handed
over. Atem says that’s boring and asks to have a game (not that Ushio really
has a choice here as he’s been tied up).
In both versions, Atem states that it’s a Dark Game, and
Ushio accepts the game. In the manga, Atem indicates that they’ll need Ushio’s
knife to play and he wonders just what kind of game needs that. In the Toei
version, Ushio boasts that he’s never lost at any game, and Atem replies that
that’s impressive, before leaping down the wall with his own rope, sliding out
a deck of cards along the wall (somehow they stay in place).
Atem explains the rules. In the manga, he says that they’ll
take turns placing the money on top of their hand, and stabbing the pile with
the knife, keeping each bill that they stab through, until all the money is
gone. He then asks if Ushio thinks it’s an interesting game, as though it’s a
perfectly normal sort of game people would play. Ushio says that it’s just a
test of courage, and wonders if it’s really Yuugi that he’s talking to. It
seems to unnerve him, but not enough to walk away. Atem also threatens that if
Ushio breaks the rules, he’ll face a Penalty Game.
In the anime, Atem explains that they take turns flipping
over a card, and climb the wall by the amount on the card. As one person rises,
the other sinks, since they are connected by the rope.
In the manga, the pair do rock-paper-scissors to decide who
goes first, which Atem wins and goes first. In the anime, Ushio simply declares
that he’ll go first, and picks up a card.
In both versions, they go back and forth with their turns. In
the manga, Ushio is getting more of the money, being able to stab harder. Even
so, Atem taunts him about being able to control his strength. On the last turn,
Ushio thinks that he will be able to get the rest of the money, but finds that
he’s unable to keep himself from stabbing down with all his strength. He starts
freaking out as Atem thinks about how Ushio’s true nature is revealed and how
he’s being controlled by his greed. Not wanting to stab through his hand, Ushio
decides to turn the knife on Atem, who leaps out of the way somehow, and states
that he knew that Ushio wouldn’t follow the rules.
In the Toei version, Atem has the advantage throughout,
consistently pulling higher numbers than Ushio. With Atem one step from the
top, Ushio pulls a Joker, which skips his turn. Ushio accuses Atem of rigging
the game. Atem doesn’t respond, and picks up the next card, which allows him to
move to the top. Ushio refuses to accept that and starts climbing his way up.
Atem then threatens that if he breaks the rules like that he’ll face something
terrible. Ushio reaches the top and attempts to strike Atem, who slides out of
the way, saying that he knew Ushio couldn’t follow the rules. Ushio breaks the
rope holding Atem up, causing him to fall towards the water. He goes to grab
the money, only to find that it’s another deck of cards.
In the manga, Ushio then notices the eye on Atem’s forehead,
and starts panicking about it. Atem says that it appears to those who trespass
on his soul by hurting his friends. He then issues his penalty game, leaving
Ushio convinced that money is falling all around him. Atem comments on how that
that will be all that he can see, and that it might actually be a happy
situation for him because of how greedy Ushio is.
It’s interesting to note how Atem is talking here (although
take this with a grain of salt since this is the Viz edition, and I’m aware
that they take liberties with translation). He almost definitely thinks he is
Yuugi. Whether he’s aware of Yuugi existing separately (i.e., he thinks he’s
Yuugi but knows he’s not the “main personality”) within him is less clear.
In the anime, the eye appears on Atem’s forehead as he
states that the “Door of Darkness has opened”. Ushio falls, and it’s revealed
that Atem had somehow grabbed onto the side of the tower. As Ushio falls past
him, Atem comments on how the game revealed Ushio’s true nature and how he’ll
be swallowed in his greed. Ushio panics, but then thinks that he’ll only get
wet as he sees the water below him. Then three monsters pop out and devour
Ushio as he falls. Atem makes no further commentary and the scene cuts off
For the most part, I prefer the manga version here as well.
In the manga, the game really is designed to take advantage of Ushio’s flaws –
already we can see Atem’s ability to quickly analyze his opponent and use their
strength against them. The anime doesn’t have that here, and Ushio’s
declaration that the game was rigged isn’t necessarily wrong – it could have
been, we don’t know. While I personally don’t like the idea of Atem outright
cheating (rather than exploiting weaknesses), there’s no way to know that he hadn’t stacked the deck in the anime.
The game in the manga is more fair, and it truly is Ushio’s greed that makes
him lose. I also like that the game still takes place in the real world, unlike
the anime which is some other, created space. Ushio had the chance to walk
away, and he didn’t have that chance in the anime. But also that the magic
feels more significant and creepy when in the regular world.
The anime does have more of a penalty for the penalty game,
however. As Atem himself said in the manga, Ushio’s pretty happy with the
situation, even if it isn’t real. I mean, yes it’s still pretty screwed up, but
compared with future penalty games, it’s not as harsh as you would expect,
since it’s basically putting him into his ideal world.
I do prefer the visuals of the manga’s penalty game,
however. Despite the anime taking advantage of motion, the manga’s version is
much more visually appealing. And certainly creepier – while he loses that look
as time goes by, Atem definitely looks like a possessed Yuugi right now.
The anime does get some points
in its favor though. Mainly because Megumi Ogata does such a great job with Atem. Probably my favorite voice for him. I
don’t like her Yuugi voice as much, as it’s too child-like for my tastes, but
her Atem is SO good. She plays him with a great balance of creepy and alluring
that works really well for his early character.
Heeey! May I request a JakexMC for the otp questions? Have a nice day! :D
1. Who is a fussy eater and who will eat food even if they’ve dropped it on the floor?
Stephanie used to be a fussy eater, until La Huerta. Jake has survived on his own too long to care where food comes from.
2. Who constantly tries to get the other to shower with them?
Jake. He likes to make arguments about conserving water or saving time, not that he has to do any convincing—Stephanie is always willing.
3. Who was popular in high school and who lies that they were just to impress the other?
Neither of them lies about it. Jake was a loner in high school and is honest about it. Stephanie wasn’t popular or unpopular, she was one of those people who was friendly with everyone but only had a couple very close friends and she was ok with that.
4. Who is incredible in bed and completely knocks the other off their feet the first time they have sex?
Their first time is pretty mind-blowing for both of them.
5. Who plays video games and who snuggles up next to them as they play?
Stephanie love video games. Jake isn’t super into them, but he loves watching her because she gets so competitive and super into it. She and Diego have been known to trash talk each other while they play.
6. Who is horny ALL OF THE TIME?
Jake. He says it’s not his fault that she’s so damn irresistible.
7. Who is sleepy and cuddly ALL OF THE TIME?
Neither of them really. Neither one of them requires a lot of sleep, though Stephanie does like snuggles when she is sleepy (or any time they are alone).
8. Who knocks on the other’s door crying at 4am?
Neither one of them. They both have a tendency to keep their feelings in and if they aren’t together at 4 a.m, then there’s a reason and they’d both be too stubborn to try and fix it.
9. Who would have 10 pets if they could and who is adorably shy around animals?
Jake is not an animal person. He never had pets growing up and he isn’t quite sure how to interact with animals. Stephanie’s family always had a dog or two and she loves animals.
10. Who takes like 10 minutes of persuading to get out of bed each morning?
Neither of them.
11. Who collects rocks and shells when they go to the beach and who thinks it’s dumb?
Neither of them does this, Jake learnt to travel light and Stephanie doesn’t really place value in things.
12. Who picks fights for no reason just so they can have kinky sex?
They have both been known to do this.
13. Who secretly admires the hell out of the other and thinks they’re the bravest person they’ve ever met?
Jake is very vocal in his admiration for her. As he said, he’d follow her anywhere. He thinks she is the bravest, most incredible woman he has ever met. She thinks he’s pretty damned awesome too.
14. Who has an adorable sneeze and who sneezes so aggressively they pull a muscle?
Jake has a very cute sneeze, though he glares at Stephanie when she tries to tell him that lol.
15. Who wants to have sex at work/school and who is terrified of getting caught?
They are both happy to have sex wherever they can manage. Jake is actually the one more worried about getting caught, especially during their time on La Huerta, though Michelle tells him that they all know what they’re doing when they sneak off together.
16. Who smells the hell out of the other’s shirts when they’re away but pretends that they don’t?
Neither one of them, but that’s because they don’t spend a lot of item apart.
17. Who believes in astrology and who doesn’t care and just wants the other to make out with them?
After their experience on La Huerta, neither one of them is willing to discount anything.
18. Who would survive the apocalypse and who wouldn’t stand a chance?
They both manage to help prevent the apocalypse and their survival skills are top-notch. They survived La Huerta, they can survived anything.
19. Who is majorly ticklish and who is the tickle-attacker?
Jake is really ticklish. Like extremely and this delights Stephanie. Of course she is also ticklish, so when she tickles him, he always pays her back.
20. Who greatly exaggerates being sick every time they feel even a little poorly just so the other will take care of them?
Neither. Illness tests their relationship because Jake is a terrible patient and when Stephanie’s sick, he hovers and drives her crazy.
Ben’s not sure where they are, it could be Hoth for all he knows as
the light outside his cell never changes and neither does the
temperature. It is always cold.
The window of his cell does not have a cover and flakes of snow
drifts in as his breath fogs and his joints freeze, his body shakes
and he curls more around himself and wraps the robe as best he can.
It doesn’t ward of the cold fully but it keeps him from developing
The narrow berth in his prison cell was never in use as it was as
cold as ice and a droid came by once a day with whatever it was they
served as food for him. Honestly, it was not as bad as snake though
Ben had a suspicion his healers would not be happy about the lack of
nutrition. Water froze within the hour if left alone and Ben had to
drink it or hold it until he was finished lest he lose that days
His fragile shields were holding for now but the conditions were
certainly taking a toll on his body now that he was used to the
warmth and comfort of the temple.
In his better moments, he thinks about those he has bonds to who
can’t feel him and wonders if they are looking for him.
He remembers his bonding night. Qui-Gon’s slow and gentle hands
guiding him, holding and stroking slowly and in awe. Soft lips along
his neck and shoulder. The warmth of their shared bed, the duvet
wrapped around them.
Ben wakes back in the cold and shivers all the more for the memory of
warmth and comfort. His heart beats harshly inside him as he wonders
about his padawan, if Maul is alive and safe. Palpatine had not been
gentle his memory whispers and his wounded knee aches in remembrance.
Maul stared up in confusion, his sluggish brain feeling like it was
playing catch up with the past as he struggled to sit up.
What had happe-BEN!
His midsection ached in pain and there was a sudden squeal in the
room even as he sat up, eyes wide as he looked around, his mind
logging the area as the Halls of Healing in the Jedi temple. But no
Ben and he could not feel Ben even as the door was suddenly thrown
open to a Healer and Master Windu standing there.
“Padawan Maul, calm yourself.” She ran to Maul’s side, healing
energy instantly latching onto his midsection and willing the pain
away even as she turned the heartrate machine off.
Maul however focused on the Master of the Order, yellow focusing on
the man in desperation. “W-What happened? Where is Master Ben?”
“That’s what we wanted to know. His bonds fell silent and you
were found in the Jedi ship on the verge of death Padawan. The
shipping bay personnel found it odd that the Jedi ship was still in
the bay with its ramp open and went to check. They found you, alone,
almost sliced in half and you spent almost a week in a bacta tank.
You lost some intestines and parts of your stomach but you will
survive with no other damage but the scars and some minor
inconvenience of your organs.” Mace offered as calmly as he could.
A Jedi master was missing and a padawan had been found on death
doors. It was clear who had taken him of course but still.
“I-Ben fell, we were walking up the ramp and then there was a flash
of darkness and…Palpatine! Palpatine was there. He attacked and
I…” Maul buried his face in his hands. “He took Ben. He must
have taken Ben.” He whispered in horror.
“…We assumed it was the sith. Its good to know for sure but
still. Maul, do you have any idea where they might have brought him?”
Ben was not dead, not yet, no one had felt him pass into the Force
and Qui-Gon was sure to feel his bondmate if he did.
“I…” Maul struggled to think. “Mustafar perhaps but that’s
a known place, somewhere I know about. Koribban perhaps?” Maul
wracked his mind as the healer was unplugging him from the heart rate
machine now that it was clear Maul was awake and safe.
“I should have done more.” He whispered and looked up when Windu
sat down on his bedside and rested his hands on Maul’s shoulders.
“You did much. The entire ships cargobay was covered in lightsaber
marks and you almost died. You did your best.”
“It wasn’t enough. Ben is gone.” Maul argued.
“Yes, that is true. But we will find him.” Mace squeezed the
others shoulders and the Zabrak hesitated before nodding slowly. “As
it is, several Jedi’s are on the lookout for any signs of them or
him and with your conscious evidence, we can appeal to the Senate
since they are already fugitives.”
The Zabrak nodded once again and tried not to think about the state
they’d find Ben in.
A week already in the Sith lords grasp?
His poor master.
“Ah, you haven’t frozen to death. That’s good, my master still
wishes to interrogate you.” Ben looked up at the voice, meeting the
caustic yellow of Sheev Palpatine’s eyes. It reminded him of
another life with other eyes that had looked like that.
“No…I am still alive. I may be more fragile then the standard
Jedi but I’m not all broken yet.” Ben offered before standing
slowly, his back and knee snapping at him as he did and his already
aching knee screaming at him.
Ben ignored it. He knew better then to show weakness in front of
He still couldn’t stop the shakes from the cold or the way his
breath stuttered, his warm breath fogging the cold air.
Palpatine smirked at that and Ben’s heart sunk. “Put your wrists
together.” The man drawled and Ben slowly did as told, wincing when
they suddenly snapped together by the cuff on each and firmly trapped
him before the sith stepped into the cell and nodded for Ben to step
Ben did, limping as he did, his knee screaming a protest in his head
for each move. His legs and feet felt numb and he worried for the
lack of sensation in his toes. ‘No, don’t think about that…not
He could think about the lack of sensation in his toes when he was no
longer in captivity.
His mind turned to Qui-Gon, Qui-Gon’s soft smile, his gentle hands.
Quinlan braiding his hair, his warm arm around Ben’s shoulder.
Obi-Wan carefully checking in on him and making meals in the kitchen.
Maul, gentle Maul letting him nap with his head on the mans lap. Mace
and their tea in the councilors room. The tea plants he and Qui-Gon
was gently tending to, encouraging the growth of. Their quarters,
soft and warm and oh so bright.
But that’s not where he is. He’s cold and dark and as they enter
a warmer room, dread coils in Ben’s belly as he looks up to meet
the acid yellow eyes of another sith.
Hego Damask or as now Ben knows him, Darth Plageius.
The Muun meets them halfway through the dark room and Ben barely has
time to see anything except a twisted red painting of a wailing man
before the Muun had him by the chin and is tilting Ben’s head
uncomfortably far up to meet the acid eyes with those thin fingers.
“And this is the thorn in our side, the one who turned your
apprentice.” The man hissed out, eyes narrowed. “What a muted
light you have master Jedi.” He offered, his voice almost softer
then Maul’s even.
Ben stared up at him in turn, eyes watering a bit at the strain his
neck and back was taking at the angle and hissed a bit when darkness
almost lightly prodded at his damaged shields. “And such fragile
shields your mind has too, it would almost be easy to smash them
would it not.” The Muun continued.
He let go and Ben let his head drop, swallowing a bit before focusing
back on the other sith again.
“So much has happened since you arrived, Master Ben Kenobi.
Strangely enough, until your sudden arrival at the temple, there was
no prior records of you anywhere.” The Muun continued and Ben felt
more then he saw Palpatine shifted.
It was like being caught between two snakes, both ready to pounce.
And Ben was not sure which held the most danger to him.
Blocked from the Force, he had no warning as the Muun suddenly
backhanded him, the smack loud through the air as the Force of it
brought him down on his knees with a cry of pain as his knees took
the brunt of the impact.
His cheek ached as numbing pain spread and he looked up, hands on
floor to support himself as he stared up.
The Muun casually stepped back and sat down. “Well then fragile
Jedi, lets play a game of who you really are…” One long fingered
“What is your full name?”
Ben looked away and there was a little chuckle. “Come now, these
are the easy questions…no? Oh well, you brought it on yourself.”
The long fingers twitched and Ben gasped, his bound hands going for
his throat as it closed in, depriving him of air.
For the first time in a long time, Ben Kenobi fears joining the
Force. He is not ready anymore.
Summary: “He was right.” She blinks, confused, and flicks up both brows. “What?” — «You just haven’t found a reason to live, Hide had said, and believe me, you will. Really soon» His lips curve into a smile. Yeah, Hide, he thinks, you were right. He already did.
Rating: K+, fluff.
A/N: I’m just super fluffy right now and this is hella short, and nothing compared to with what I had in mind, but no big deal anyway, just a small drabble to satisfy your touken needs.
What Is Worth Living For
He doesn’t understand.
Her childish hair that slinks between her long, dusky eyelashes of a woman. The way that the sunlight coming out from the nearest window takes rest upon her face, highlighting small marks hidden in her skin and it’s like finding tiny diamonds inside a goldmine. The shimmer of her sleepy eyes due to an ephemeral nap she’d took in the comfort of his arms, her smell of bitter coffee that for Kaneki tastes extremely honeyed, the pacific rhythm of her breathing that hums for him like the sweetest of lullabies, her glossy lips, her healing hands…
He just doesn’t understand.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Touka inquiries under a curious whisper, her little hands huddling beneath her neck and the way she asks provokes in Kaneki a tender smile.
He can’t help it. He leans a few millimeters and presses an innocent peck on the tip of her nose, without closing his eyes. Touka frowns and Kaneki feels her fingertips caressing the soft skin of his jaw.
“Like what?” He teases, resting his head on the pillow once more.
Touka’s cheeks redden as Kaneki tries to fight the impulse of lean again to kiss her. His playful smile does not go unnoticed for Touka, however, she remains silent. Silence is the only thing that’s left and Kaneki holds her hand against his own, bringing it to his mouth and brushing his lips gently against her knuckles, his eyes studying her in such an intimate way that makes her shiver, but still she can’t find the courage to break the eye contact, plunged into some kind of nameless spell.
If he doesn’t understand, neither does she.
She doesn’t understand the light in those eyes that once carried a misery that seemed impossible for her to restore. She doesn’t understand the way his arms embrace her body whilst she sleeps, the way that his lips slopes occasionally to grind a kiss on her face, right underneath her closed eyes, listening to her sweet snorts. She doesn’t understand his patience, the way that she had caught him staring at her absently numerous times in the middle of a big crowd, smiling caringly when she finally found his gaze, almost proud and grateful at the thought that, sooner or later, her eyes were always meant to find him at the end; and then he’d chuckle, shaking his head and looking down, like if he knows something she does not. She doesn’t understand his instincts, the way that he quits his readings because watching her prepare coffee or hear her little snores whilst she sleeps is way more interesting that any story that a book can offer.
Touka doesn’t understand, but it’s like if she had suddenly become the center of his universe. Kaneki is also clueless, and maybe there’s nothing to understand at all.
He knows the answer.
“He was right.”
His whisper gets lost between Touka’s fingers, one soft and quiet mutter, almost as if he had whispered that to himself, but Touka can hear him perfectly.
She blinks, confused, and flicks up both brows.
Kaneki smirks and a nostalgic sparkle drowns his gaze. He didn’t realize he said that out loud, but it doesn’t matter anymore. He kisses her hand once again, muttering an innocent nothing that Touka doesn’t believe at all, but does not complain when Kaneki leans to kiss her cheek and rests his forehead against hers, closing his eyes after a deep sigh.
You just haven’t found a reason to live, Hide had said, and believe me, you will. Really soon.
It’s not even been a week since Yuri’s birthday. He has taken half a month off – it’s March, the season doesn’t start in ages, he deserves this after the success at the last Grand Prix – so he will sleep until one in the afternoon if he wants to, no matter what his granddad says, thank you very much. So he’s cursing under his breath when he hears the door bell ring while he’s home alone, and what if his grandpa has forgotten his keys and needs to be let in? Yuri raises from his bed, uncaring about his unkempt hair and the oversized sweater he sleeps in, and prepares his voice to scream if it’s the annoying neighbour that knocks on their door every damn day.
YOU’RE SO PRETTY IT HURTS LOOKING AT YOU. I’M NOT JUST SAYING THAT TO SOUND POETIC, IT PHYSICALLY HURTS TO LOOK AT YOU I FEEL THIS SHARP PAIN IN MY CHEST AND I LIKE YOU SO MUCH IT SCARES ME TO DEATH. WELL NOT THAT MUCH BUT YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LIKE TO EXAGGERATE AND I KNOW YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO TALK ABOUT FIGHT CLUB BUT BABY MAYBE YOU WERE JUST ALL IN MY HEAD BECAUSE I AM BEATING MYSELF UP OVER YOU, I AM BLACK AND BLUE OVER YOU. THERE IS A SAXOPHONE WHERE MY HEART SHOULD BE IT IS PUMPING CLEFS INSTEAD OF BLOOD IT IS PLAYING THE SADDEST SONGS I KNOW AND YOU ALWAYS TOLD ME MY MUSIC WAS TOO SAD TO LISTEN TO AT FOUR IN THE AFTERNOON. I WONDER WHAT YOU WOULD SAY IF YOU HEARD THE INSIDE OF MY HEAD. THE FIRST TIME I SAW YOU I IMAGINED SLOW DANCING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET TO THE SADDEST SONG YOU KNEW. I NEVER WANTED YOU TO BE MINE I JUST WANTED TO BE WITH YOU, IM SORRY I DIDN’T REALIZE THAT SOONER. YOU ARE SO SOFT WHEN YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT YOUR BROTHER AND I AM SO SMALL WHEN I AM KISSING THE BACKS OF YOUR SHOULDERS AND I HAVE NEVER KNOWN PEACE BUT YOU FEATHERED THE SCREAMING MAN IN MY HEAD UNTIL HE TURNED INTO A DOVE, YOU TOOK HIS GUN AND YOU MADE ORIGAMI FLOWERS OUT OF SUICIDE NOTES AND SHOVED THEM DOWN THE BARREL. YOU ARE THE PEACEKEEPER TO THE WAR WITH MYSELF AND MY HANDS NEVER WANT TO HOLD A PEN LIKE A NOOSE WHEN THEY ARE HOLDING YOU. EVERYONE IS SAYING I NEED TO GET MY HEARTBROKEN SO I STOP WRITING ABOUT GIRLS WITH SUNSHINE HAIR BUT THERE IS AN OLD MOVIE PLAYING IN MY HEAD ON A LOOP, THE SOUNDTRACK IS A GLOOMY SUNDAY AT HEARTBREAK HOTEL. I AM HAVING BRUNCH WITH ELVIS AND LADY DAY THEY ARE TALKING ABOUT HOW SADNESS NEVER DIES BUT NEITHER DOES LOVE ITS JUST HAZY SKIES AND LIGHT BLUES AND YOU ARE SMILING LIKE YOUR MOUTH IS MADE OF ROSES. I AM CAPTURING EVERY TIME LIGHT FALLS ACROSS YOUR FACE IN A WAY THAT MAKES ME WANT TO KISS YOU. IT IS CHRISTMAS LIGHTS AND BREAK LIGHTS AND RED LIGHTS AND SUNLIGHT PRETTY MUCH EVERY TIME I LOOK AT YOU. I WANT TO TELL ALL OF THIS TO YOU BUT YOU LEFT A DAY TOO SOON AND TIME NEVER MATTERED TO ME UNTIL I RAN OUT OF TIME WITH YOU.
One Angel: Palazzo Arian, at San Raffaele Arcangelo
BY ANN SNODGRASS
One angel got it all wrong. She plopped into this sad century feet first in her dark clothes. There wasn’t much water that winter—just a few puddles really— to break her fall. Mud-splattered, she rose and shook like a canine. It didn’t take long to see her soaked wings as a backdrop to all the nonmagic to which we were accustomed, or to see what passed for history as a forgetting of sorts. (Was that one or two wars?) Strange how, as she limped down a dim vicolo, some willful disc hovered above her more florid than a sky—how the putrid puddles with their last reflections could neither correct nor register that light.
Bonus thought: Wind dragons being known for their skill at flying and Spirals being known for their agile unpredictable flight patterns, consider that added onto the subtle influence and manipulation of Wind magic
Their own natural, inherent maneuverability being underscored by invisible manipulations of air to make Bolts and arrows somehow miss even if the one firing was positive their aim was true, their movements staying sure and graceful in the air while their opponent seems to stall and falter and get buffeted around by unpredictable crosswinds and currents, always staying bouncy and energetic while their foes seem to run short of breath immediately, limbs getting heavy and heart racing as the air subtly thins out in a small pocket around them
Everyone who doesn’t understand Wind magic or expects magic to only be the Bolts and big showy Disorients of the coli getting unnerved and confused because they can’t perceive the Wind dragon to be doing anything in particular, they just seem to be somehow able to outpace their opponents completely without trying
Superstitious/ignorant folks greatly exaggerating the speed/agility of Wind dragons as a result, Wind getting a reputation for being impossible to hit and impossible to outrun
Wind, neither caring about truth like Light does nor encouraging cleverness and trickery like Shadow, only caring about what makes an interesting story – and just giggling and going with whatever people wanna think because this way the people who fight them have WAY COOLER STORIES to tell
Annabeth has been trying to sleep for the past two hours. And she’s done everything. She’s counted sheep. She’s counted the seven muses. She’s counted Pipers. Spoilers: There is only one Piper. Counting Pipers is neither soothing nor helpful. Plus, she gets insanely annoyed with you and throws her pillow at your head.
There is absolutely no doubt that Annabeth is going to have bags under her eyes tomorrow. But, whatever. Piper is the kind of person who falls asleep during a sleepover, and Annabeth is the kind of person who stays awake at night, just worrying about things going wrong. And there’s a million things that could go wrong. There’s actually a ridiculous amount of things. Oh god, oh god, what if the-?
“Stop freaking out,” Annabeth instructs herself quietly. “This is not helpful.”
It never is. Although neither is talking to herself, and Annabeth still does that quite often.
When light breaks through her window, flashing back and forth, Annabeth can feel her chest loosening with relief. She squints at Piper, making certain that she’s really asleep, before she shuffles over to the window and pops it open, leaning her head out into the cool June air. He’s close enough that they don’t have to shout, but too far to whisper. Annabeth hopes that their voices don’t wake up Piper. She wants some time with Percy. Just Percy.
“You’re supposed to be asleep,” she scolds.
“I’ll sleep tomorrow night,” Percy says, shutting off his flashlight immediately.
“No you won’t,” Annabeth laughs, crossing her legs underneath herself for maximum comfort. “You’ll be busy tomorrow night.”
He starts to smile at the sight of her propping her chin up on the window sill.
“Well, I won’t want to sleep tomorrow night. Same thing, really.”
Annabeth rolls her eyes.
“Is Jason asleep?” she asks, changing the subject.
“Aren’t I supposed to be the know it all in this relationship?”
He raises his eyebrows.
“We’ve known each other since we were less than a year old. Don’t you think your personality traits could have, I dunno, rubbed off on me at some point?”
“As long as none of your personality traits rubbed off on me, I think we’ll be fine.”
He frowns, pretending to be hurt.
“You’re marrying me tomorrow. You can’t think that my personality traits are all bad.”
Annabeth lets one “Ha!” escape her mouth before she clasps a hand over it.
“You’re right,” she says. “I love your personality traits. When you’re wearing them. I don’t think they’d fit on me.”
“We fit perfectly,” argues Percy. “And don’t say otherwise. I’ll fight you.”
“I gave up fighting you when we were sixteen,” Annabeth says fondly. “We’re a team now, Jackson. Deal.”
She doesn’t quite know why Percy’s chosen this moment to go speechless, but when she looks at him, she can hear the thoughts as they whizz through his brain. Because tomorrow, they’re marrying each other. Annabeth is marrying the boy next door. The one who learned morse code so that they could communicate with flashlights. The one who used to sit at the very edge of his window in Spiderman pajamas while Annabeth looked on fearfully, clutching the skirt of the frilly pink nightgown that she would grow to hate. She is marrying the boy who had knocked her off of his toy motorcycle when they were kids, making her sob. She is marrying the boy who had held her as she couldn’t stop sobbing, because her mom was leaving her dad, leaving her, and love didn’t seem real anymore.
And she hadn’t realized for another five years how much that statement had hurt Percy. Because he had known, way before Annabeth, that what they had was just about as real as it gets. It wasn’t for another five years that they got to experience terrible prom food and sneaking into each other’s bedrooms for awkward making out that turned into really good making out that turned into painfully awkward sex that turned into awesome sex that turned into marriage.
Only a few years after that, they didn’t have to whisper across a patch of green grass in the darkness. They just had to look over at each other in bed or on the couch. Their dance parties were in the same room, not with Percy’s speaker turned way up so Annabeth could jump and down to the same music as he was playing, even in the middle of the winter. And when they held hands, it wasn’t because they were crossing the street. It was because they wanted to.
“You know what we haven’t decided yet?” she asks suddenly, making Percy startle out of his own thoughts.
“What?” he asks, wracking his brain.
“Which house we’re going to buy when we’re ready to have kids and a home and a backyard.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Annabeth says, “clearly we’re going to have to buy one of these houses. How else is our son going to be able to fall in love with the kid next door?”
“You mean our daughter falling in love with the kid next door. It’s my chromosome we’re counting on; I get to decide.”
She bursts into laughter, forgetting that they’re trying to respect Piper’s wishes to stay asleep on the night of the second most important day of her life.
“Whazz goin on? Did I hear Percy?” she asks groggily. “Annabeth, fuck, do you have the dress on?”
She bolts up, eyes wide, to see both Annabeth and Percy staring at her with wide, guilty eyes, caught out.
“Okay, idiots,” she says, stumbling out of Annabeth’s bed. “You’re getting married tomorrow. Go the fuck to sleep.”
As Piper slams the window shut and dramatically closes the drapes, Annabeth could swear she could see six year old Percy, kneeling at his bedroom window in his spiderman pajamas, grinning at her with missing teeth and a lopsided smile.
-After Winter, Cinder and Thorne always high-five each other in greeting (though it is usually followed by Thorne wrapping Cinder in a bear-hug and she just rolls her eyes but she secretly loves it)
-Cinder totally makes high-fiving the official way to greet her as a queen, none of that bowing for her thank-you-very-much! (So Thorne is actually greeting her as a queen when he high-fives her but he doesn’t really see it that way and neither does she)
-Thorne high-fives other people, but it’s always a light high five whereas with Cinder he will slap her hand really hard…the first time he did this it was with Cinder’s human hand and it hurt like crazy so now she always high fives with her metal hand and Thorne regrets his hard hive-fiving but refuses to stop even though it hurts like crazy
-One time they come up with a secret hand shake that included a lot of high-fiving, but it became too complex and they forget it so they just reverted back to a normal high-five
-A few times they completely miss each other’s hands and end up smacking the other in the face. From then on the always make sure to look at each other’s elbow because for some reason that actually works?
-Thorne talks non-stop about how he high-fived Cinder during her coronation. Someone (we aren’t saying who, but it was probably Thorne…) posted a video and it went viral. Cinder is so annoyed by it that she gets Cress to take it down, but by then it’s too late because there are a billion parodies of it (imagine it even being a meme…)
Her hair was littered with sunlight crystals and her hands were speckled like the night sky.
She was a constellation, made up of tiny lights that shone brighter than anything else in the entire universe. It mapped out her skin in gold and amber but she couldn’t see any of it. A reflection doesn’t hold beautiful things, neither does a picture so she walked around bathed in a light she’ll never know she possess.
Send me a one line prompt and I’ll write some prose.
I need tips for eye makeup! I'm Arab so my skin so dark, especially around my eyes. My bags and my lids. I'm 14 and I love makeup, but I can never do nice natural pretty makeup because my eyes are too dark. I use light concealer to cover my kids as a primer and base but it doesn't seem to work, and neither does white eyeshadow. Most of my friends are light skinned so nice colors like light pinks and neutrals look great, but you can't see hem on me, any tips?
You probably need to use a color corrector! Check out Becca Cosmetics for one. You might be able to get a sample of it. Definitely have someone in store help you get a color match. Always try and find a person of color associate!!! Try and find one that is the same darkness as your skin. I’m assuming more of a deep peach color. If Becca Cosmetics is too pricey check out LA Girl. You might have to order them online though (they are on the pending brands for cruelty free makeup though). NYX might have one but I believe they will be too light.
These videos will help explain color correcting:)
It could also be the quality of your eyeshadows as well. Check out Makeup Geek, Anastasia, and if you’re more on a budget I heard the new eyeshadow palettes from Milani are really good! If you want to try and make the eyeshadow you currently have work, you can also try using a fixative spray like the ELF Mist & Set spray with your shadows. Just get some shadow on your brush and then spray it. It’ll help the eyeshadow go on more opaque.
This video my sis and I did might help as well. :)
So, upon re-watching the pilot, here are just a few stray thoughts. I’ve got some other ones stored to churn over later.
Opening of the show A.K.A. the premise
This is one of the exchanges that stands out to me the most. The second one is the first class “lesson” on the Civil War (to come).
The pilot is the start of Riley’s coming-of-age story, her bildungsroman so to speak. She doesn’t know who she is quite yet, although she is referred/alluded to in the pilot as “the sun”, “angel”, “good”. She doesn’t want to be the girl who always follows the rules. She’s afraid that she is “the type of person who always plays it safe”. She wonders if she will ever “take a risk that changes [her] destiny”. Given those fears of hers, and Maya being presented as “the night”, “dark and mysterious”, the one with the “wild side”, who’s not “innocent”; Riley spends the whole episode trying to be just like her.