no it really was an accident


Lin-Manuel Miranda

Legacy. What is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see. I wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me. America, you great unfinished symphony, you sent for me. You let me make a difference, a place where even orphan immigrants can leave their fingerprints and rise up. I’m running out of time. I’m running, and my time’s up! Wise up! Eyes up! I catch a glimpse of the other side. Laurens leads a soldiers’ chorus on the other side, my son is on the other side, he’s with my mother on the other side washington is watching from the other side. Teach me how to say goodbye

Rise up! Rise up! Rise up! Eliza! My love, take your time, I’ll see you on the other side.
Raise a glass to freedom…

Heart on the Line (part 10)


You and Bucky had your differences in college, but now you need a place to stay and he needs a roommate, and in order to make ends meet, you two start a phone sex line together.  

“For a Good Time, Call…” AU

author: sugardaddytonystark (formerly buckysbackpackbuckle)
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
word count: 1150

Keep reading

When Night Comes *Vamp!Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Title: When Night Comes |The Lost Boys (1987) au|
Ratings: Explicit content (18+); Smut later on. Mentions of blood and violent topics. Murder & aggressive behaviour. Vampires and supernatural monsters.
Characters: Bucky Barnes, The lost boys characters (some), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton & Sam Wilson /Alongside/ Sharon Carter, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff & Rumlow
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Steve (great-great-grandson to Bucky - explained). Sharon Carter x Reader (siblings)

Summary: You had just moved to a small beach town in Santa Carla, California with your sister, Sharon. You spend most nights on the boardwalk as your sister works at a small cinema in town. After an accidental run in with the mysterious, Bucky Barnes, motorcycle gang leader things go a little upside down. Something about you lures him in and something about him gives you apprehension. Like most women though, you’re attracted to him, although most women aren’t seen again.

I’m sorry this part is so long. I wanted to introduce The Lost Boys without actually introducing them, making this over two-thousand words, I am awfully sorry. Everyone blame my best friend @promarvelfangirl​ she never told me not to!

You gaze out of the car’s window, head resting against the glass as you take in the sights. The sun blazing and hot, your new life in sunny California is beginning today. You sigh gently and push yourself off of the window, sitting up against the leather interior of you sisters car, glancing her way. Her golden hair was illuminated by the California sun, her eyes looked tired but hopeful. Sharon needed out of your hometown, not wanting her to go off on her own, you tagged along because it seemed you both needed fresh new starts.

“So, our apartment is right near the beach. Close to the boardwalk,” Sharon breaks the silence. “I have an enough money saved from…”  she trailed off before starting again, “from before, that should be enough to hold us over on rent for a few months.”

You nod slowly. “That’s good, there’s bound to be jobs here for us.” You shrug, Sharon let’s out a little chuckle of an agreement.

“This is gonna be fun,” it sounds like she’s trying to convince herself more than you. “Us, two sisters, leaving our horrible lives behind. Starting anew, it’s gonna be good!”

Sharon pulls up outside the apartment building, it’s a small little complex area, gated and looks nice enough. You both get out of the car; Sharon is smiling widely up at the building making you smile, she needed this and you’re more than willing to make this work. You watch as Sharon gets the keys to the place, her smile never faltering even when you park the car in the lot, and getting the few bags you brought with you both.

The apartment was medium sized, open planned too. Two bedrooms and one bathroom, it had a little balcony that overlooked the beach and the boardwalk. This was now your new home, it would do as a Kickstarter place, eventually you actually wanted a house but leaving with a few clothes and little money meant this was it. You pulled your bags into your room, it was homely; a small double bed up against the window and a wardrobe plus vanity. The walls were an off-white, carpet a light grey, simple and just what you needed.

“Hey, tonight we should go walk along the beach and boardwalk, see if there are any available jobs.” Sharon leans against your doorframe, you give a gentle nod as you sit on the bed. “I just want to say, thanks, for coming with me. I know leaving all your friends and our parents behind were difficult.” She smiles sincerely, you give a little grin back.

“Listen, we’re a team, me and you.” You stand up and walk to your older sister, “I couldn’t let my partner in crime leave without me, that boring old town wouldn’t have been any fun without Shazza,” you hip bump her and she laughs rolling her eyes. “Ice creams are on me,” you call as she turns to leave.

“You bet your ass they’re on you, Y/N.”


The boardwalk in the evening looked beautiful. The sounds of music coming from the arcades plus the few rides, people’s mindless chatter as they walk or sit. The bright lights illuminated the area with red, white and yellow. Sharon walked on ahead a little, not one for stopping and taking in the sights. Your eyes cast over the crowd by the entrance; California was different to what you were used to, the people and places, it would take some time to get used to.

Originally posted by halloweenmagick

Your eyes glance over a group of men, all crowded around one, motorcycles all lined up. All clad in leather jackets, ripped jeans and biker gloves. They were parked outside the entrance to the boardwalk, the place you wanted to go into once Sharon had looked around. One was sat on his bike, white hair slicked back and black coat, a smirk as he watched one of his friends talk. His white hair made his pale skin look slightly less ghostly, although his cerulean eyes stood out against his white complexion. A girl clung to the back of him, bright auburn hair that even at night looked fiery, a red leather jacket and ripped jeans. Her hair looked vibrant against her pale skin, her dainty hands stroked through the male’s hair affectionately causing you to look away.

“Y/N?” Your name was called; you turned to Sharon who was stood outside of a small theatre. You stroll over, a male stands beside your sister, kind face and smile as he smoked on the cigarette careful to not blow smoke in your face. “This is Clint, he owes this cinema,” you look and see what movies are playing. Only two; The Fearless Vampire Killers and The Wolf Man.

You glanced at Clint, his sandy blonde hair and kind blue eyes, he had a few tattoos up his arms but most were covered by his rolled-up grey sleeves. “Those look like old horror movies.” You observe and he nods once.

“This movie theatre has been around for years,” Clint smiles. “Plus old horrors are classics, kid. Besides people come here to make out and not watch the movies, it’s here where everyone’s parents got together.” You chuckled with Sharon at that. “Anyway, Sharon we’ve got a job opening, our last ticket rep hasn’t been turning up.” He shrugs gently and stubs the cigarette out on the floor with his boot.

“I’ll take it,” Sharon says almost instantly, you give her a look but she shrugs you off. “It’s a good starting point, listen I’m gonna talk to Clint some more, I’ll text you when I’m done. Go have fun,” she nudges you away, you sigh gently but do as she says, giving a last look to Clint who smiles softly.

You slowly walk back towards the boardwalk entrance, kicking a few stones with your black converse. You peek up through your lashes to the motorcycles, none of the gang was there, you gave a little sigh of relief; it’s not that you thought they’d say anything to you but that little nagging feeling tugged at your stomach, a sign you should have listened to when back at home. You looked at the bikes as you got closer, all black and shiny, big handlebars and a few decorated with stickers. 

As you walked past, you hear someone shout, thinking it was Sharon calling for you, you turn but stumble and bump into someone and lost your footing.

You fall backwards and land on something, whatever it was fell with you and crashed to the floor, you fall on top of it. You groan in pain, your back was pressing into something hard and cold. When you opened your eyes the colour drained from your face, you had knocked over one of their motorcycles. You shot up and begin trying to pull it up, it was too heavy, of course. Nothing looked broken, you hoped; the first day here and you’re already going to get on some gang’s hit list, for sure.

“Did you do this?” A deep voice called, you stopped trying to pull on the handle and your heart rate picked up in speed.

Originally posted by yourlipbalm

Slowly you turned around and the air got stuck in your throat. You hadn’t seen this man amongst the crowd of people, you would have remembered him. His eyes were a deep, stormy grey, that stood out against his light skin. Dark stubble littered across his clenched jaw, framing pink lips that were pulled into a frown. The man’s hair was long, tickling against his jaw and he swept a hand to push some behind his ear, both hands covered by black, fingerless, leather gloves.

You debated on lying, he looked menacing and tall, broad shoulders hidden under a black leather jacket. “Uh-yes, I did.” He raised an eyebrow, “but it was by accident, I swear. I heard someone yell, I tripped and fell into it, I really didn’t meant to. God, I am so sorry, I’ll pay any damages.” You rush, holding your hands to him and he continued to stare at you for a few seconds. You gulped when he stepped to you, you held your breath not knowing what he was going to do but instead he stepped around you, gripping the bike and pulling it up with ease. “…I am really sorry.” You mumble.

You watched as he examined his motorcycle, you crossed your arms over your stomach and frowned, praying no damage had been done. Truthfully, you didn’t have any money to give him to pay for damages. You cursed yourself for meeting a handsome guy this way, breaking his motorcycle; not that you think you’d have a chance with him but it would have been nice to meet this sinful guy in different circumstances. Eventually, his eyes drifted up to you, you tried not to look too worried or afraid.

“It’s fine,” you let out a long sigh and started to breathe normally. “You’re not from around here,” it was a statement more than a question, you nodded once. “Yeah, people around here usually put a lot of space between themselves and me or our bikes.” You frowned, turning to see that people kept their distance from you and this guy, giving curious but concerned glances to him. “They’d also blame another person.”

“Well, not gonna lie, I thought about it.” You chuckled nervously and he smirked with a nod. “Again I’m really sorry, I’m just clumsy. I think I hurt myself more than your bike.” You joked lightly.

His eyebrows knit together. “You’re not bleeding!” You frowned back him, how would he know that? “I meant, are you bleeding?” He corrected himself, placing his hands in his pockets.

“No, I don’t think so. Gonna have a gnarly bruise though,”

Did I just really use the word gnarly? You thought to yourself, cringing as his eyebrows raised. “I’m gonna… go, let you go about your evening. Sorry, again.” You turn and leave, cursing yourself for being so idiotic and annoying, he definitely thinks you’re weird. Not that his opinion matters, although, when did these butterflies appear in your stomach? But you couldn’t figure out if they were those anxious, warning you of him butterflies or actual nervous, shy butterflies.

You walked into the boardwalk; still thinking about that awkward and cringey encounter. First day here and already you’re making the wrong impression on people. The arcades music filled your ears, children and teenagers playing the games to win those crappy prizes. Your eyes landed on the guys from earlier with the white hair, he’s without the girl but two others; a curly blonde with a dark jacket that has patches on the arms and back. Plus a brunette with longer hair past his shoulders, an earring dangled out of his left ear, he also looked to be wearing no shirt under his black jacket and a very strange necklace dangled around his neck. The man with white hair turned to the yell of the name, “David”, your eyes drifted to see the broad-shouldered guy who you had run in with.

You slowly walked past but the distance made it difficult to hear what they are talking about. You assume the white haired man is named David, he places his pale hand on the blonde’s shoulder, smirking at something he said. You’re too caught up in staring at them to realise you’re about to walk into an arcade game: you smash into the large metal object, a shriek leaving your lips at the suddenness. The sudden bash from you causes the game’s music to loudly ring out, you cringe back and glance around seeing if anyone saw that.

To your unfortunate luck, the men are all staring, David and the two others don’t seem that bothered but chuckle to themselves… but the other one, the one you looked a fool in front of earlier, has an eyebrow raised and amused smirk; the second time you’ve done something stupid in front of him. You feel the heat rush to your cheeks, turning away quickly and leaving in the opposite direction seemed like the best escape.

“Y/N!” You turn, still in eyeshot of him and his eyes trail to your sister and back to you, his mouth moving but eyes boring into you; you try not to look back at him. “You okay? You look a little flushed.” Sharon frowns, pressing her hand to your forehead.

You push her hand away, chuckling at her motherly personality. “I’m fine, just a little hot from all that walking.” You lie but she buys it; turning her head she looks around the boardwalk and turns back to you with a small frown.

“Why are those guys staring over here?” She nods in the direction you’ve been keen on not looking to, you shrug gently. “Creeps! Come on, let’s go get some food.” You nod, letting Sharon grab your hand and pull you away. Glancing behind yourself, the men aren’t there anymore, you frown slightly but put your attention back to your sister. “So, Clint has given me the job. I start officially tomorrow,” you smile a little and nod, not really paying her too much attention. The nagging feeling, this itch, that feels like someone is watching you makes you feel paranoid and unsettled.

You glance around, narrowing your eyes at the crowds of people but no one really stands out. “That’s nice.” Sharon hums in agreement.

“Apparently, the previous person was his sister but she has been MIA and not turned up.”

Sharon continues to talk about the work she’ll have to do. You try and pay attention, trying not to feed into the paranoia feeling you have. Only it kept growing like someone was closing in on you, your heart picked up in speed but no one stood out in the crowd. You suggest leaving, claiming to be tired from the long journey and walking around. As you leave the Boardwalk the revving of engines pulls you from Sharon’s attention, all the motorcycles starting up.

None wearing helmets, all decked out in leather or denim. A few even have the New Romantics style mixed with the dark vibe that David had going on. The girl was perched on the back of his motorcycle, smirking at another blonde who had long, swept hair and bright blue eyes. The other blonde, with the patch jacket, was the first one to speed off and down the road. The brunette followed, almost racing him and hollering, you frowned at the recklessness they seemed to have.

“Ladies,” a clear, smooth voice calls. You cast your eyes to see David looking directly at you and Sharon, a smirk upturning at the corners of his lips, “Welcome to Santa Carla.” You frowned at his greeting, did his friend tell him about you? Does he just know you’re not from around here?

You nod in thanks, hearing a silent hiss from Sharon to leave. “Thank you?” Your voice making the words sound like a question, he lets out a chuckle. The girl clinging to him looking at you, her green eyes against pale skin making her look outworldly, her eyes narrowed as she glares.

“Don’t mind him, he likes to make people uncomfortable.” Your eyes drift to the person with a deep, soft voice. He now has his hair tied back into a small bun at the nape of his neck, his forearms are resting on the handlebars of his motorcycle. A smirk cast to his friend and then to you, a wink dropping with his right eye. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, Sharon links her arm through yours and gently pulls you away. He gives a wave as you’re pulled away from them.

You hear the engines roar to life and then the motorcycles speeding off, you glance and watch as they drive off down the road. “They’re trouble, Y/N. Stay away from him,” Sharon mumbles, also watching them drive off. “Clint said there’s a motorcycle gang around, real trouble makers. I don’t want you getting involved!” You nod and walk home in relative silence on your end, your mind thinking back to the man on the motorcycle.

(I appreciate feedback and what you think will happen in this series- I’ve taken ideas from various movies. Let me know if there’s anything you want to see happen. Thank you for the patience, I’ve been having problems with my laptop that I hope will be fixed over the weekend. Fortunately, I have a mum who loves that I’m blogging and writing and has lent me her laptop. So, shout out to my mammy, Michele, what a saint. -  Rosalie)

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Another SVTFOE promo

I don’t complain AT ALL… this new information get’s me HYPED!

“Say goodbye to your freedom”

Ludo is taking over Mewni’s castle?! By the way, why is River shirtless? Ludo is going to take the castle when they were having that party on the other promo?

Well, I think this is going to happen when Ludo attacks that mewman town with his rats. Moon and Star are going to show up and stand agaist him, but Moon is going to reason with Ludo, and that’s why she’s grapping Ludo’s arms in this gif. But, Toffee intervenes because he wants Moon to shut up Ludo to stay crazy. Probably this is going to be when he says “have you learned nothing?” since something very alike happened when Toffee ambushed Moon in the monster temple.

I’m pretty sure she is talking about Ludo. I mean, how could Star defeat Toffee? Or is something more going to happen, like, Toffee retrats because he just wanted to show up that time? And why is Star so mad that her wand brights in green?

So now we know for certain whom is one of the skulls Toffee had in his shoulders. I called it, only something like that could have make Moon to be mad and desesperate enough to use a super-dark-spell from Eclipsa’s chapter. Also, this could be the very first time Star watches her mom cry.

Whoa… Marco sure has balls. And in the beggining of this show, he was “The Safe Kid” who only knew karate not to get into fights, but to defend himself if he had to. Spend 16 years in Hekapoo’s dimension sure had a positive effect in him. Also, is he in a dungeon? Or is he just hiding with some people so he can get to make a plan? 

What is Ludo trying to do to the book? And why, if the book was empty, reacted like that? did you see Ludo was sent flying? LOL 

Ok, for the nexts things I only have screenshots. Those appeared for a really short time, so…

Is Toffee from the past! Look, he even has all his fingers! He looks angry… and he has a curtain made of skulls! Fuck the Iron Throne, made with defeated warriors’ blades, THIS IS HARCORE!!

Uhm… Moon doesn’t seem actually worried… so this could be a little accident with Star’s wand in green mode.

Well, this is obviously when Moon found Eclipsa’s chapter in the past battle. But why is she with a hood?


OK, THIS IS BAD. Have you seen the crazy lady eyes she has? I’m sure having her around would be worse than having Toffee around. Toffee wants revenge on Moon and everyone around to her. Eclipsa probably is going to do a super bloodbath against all of Mewni for trapping her and maybe monsters too for not staying loyal to her or whatever.

In my opinion, all this clips are a little messy. We can’t say for certain when are going to happen all of this things. When are Moon and Star going to be in the forest? Does that happen before or after Ludo attacks Mewni and/or takes over the castle? In which moment does Moon tell Star what did Toffee to her?


My Favorite Person [Connor Murphy x Reader]

Title: My Favorite Person
Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader
Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen
Requested: by the lovely @rinzix
Summary: College!Friends with benefits | You’re thankful to have a friend like Connor, for more reasons than one, but you’re fun may soon be coming to an end, and Connor isn’t feeling like himself
Warnings: mentions of sex | Connor has a potty mouth | mentions of mental health relapses and recovery | brief allusions to domestic violence | first person reader
A/N: This was such a wonderful, fun prompt and it reeaallly got away from me, so I apologize in advance. Essentially, the summary is I will probably never let Connor Murphy be happy. As always, it’s really rushed and I didn’t proof read. Enjoy?

It never starts the way I expect it to.

Don’t get me wrong–I’m not complaining. It just doesn’t work out the way it does in the movies, ya know? I’ve never gotten a text at eleven pm asking me to sneak across the campus to his conviently empty dorm room, never received anything remotely similar to a booty call. It started on accident, like everything else Connor Murphy does. He doesn’t understand the sort of pull he has on people.

Connor Murphy was an absolute octopus, first off. I woke up early–much earlier than he ever would–underneath a pile of pale, lithe limbs that seemed to tangle around me in a number of places. I was sticky–definitely sweaty from sleeping too close to Connor, who apparently fell asleep on top of me like some kind of animal, but I also felt an uncomfortable squish between my thighs that reminded me of the drastic turn of events that happened last night.

To be perfectly clear, this wasn’t the first time we had done this. The first time had been planned–an accidental mishap that had spiraled out of control, beginning with texts (“Hey, would you mind to model for a piece I’m working on? I can’t find any decent reference poses online.”) and ended with some not so appropriate banter (“Are we sexting? Is this sexting? I mean I’m horny but like it’s gotta be smoother than this, right? Shit, do you have nudes??) that had snowballed into an agreement: we could fool around, platonically, because being in college and being ridiculously horny all the time and balancing a decent relationship was one thing too many.

Still, our first few times had been planned: I’d come over for pizza when Connor’s roommate was out, we’d play video games and watch a movie, and, at some point, Connor would lean over with little to no warning and kiss me much too roughly, taking me off guard–it usually either dissolved into a fit of giggles or ended up with me on my back staring up at the smooth column of his throat, watching his pale adams apple dip briefly as he groaned into my hair.

The sun was up, shining obnoxiously through Connor’s too thin quilted curtains, filtering across our tangled bodies. My shirt was still on, thankfully–I had no idea when his roommate would be back–but Connor was entirely nude (save for a pair of tie-dye tube socks, I can’t believe I slept with him while he was wearing that), sprawled on top of me, all pale skin and angles. From here, I could see the knobs of his spine pressing against the thin, pale skin of his back where my hand rested. One of his hands was fisted tightly in the fabric of my shirt, just over my stomach, and the other was dangling off the edge of the  bed, his thin wrist almost comically looking as if it would snap.

The smell of him was overwhelming, of course, it always was. I could still taste him if I ran my tongue across the backs of my teeth. I’d need a long shower to scrub away the smell if I wanted to think coherently today–Connor was definitely my favorite person, the only real  friend I’d made at school so far, but the very smell of him was going to make my brain short circuit.

We needed to have a discussion, needed to stop doing this every time we hang out. A limit. I sighed, remembering. We were going to have to have a talk anyway.

Reaching up gingerly, I ran my fingers against the knots on his back, tracing the triangles of his scapula and cupping the back of neck to run my fingers through the curls. His hair needed washed, badly, but I didn’t mind, just continued to soothe, feeling him sigh in his sleep against my neck. I grinned, feeling his nose press more firmly against the juncture of my neck and shoulder.

"Why are you awake?” He slurred, lips wet where they brushed my skin. His limbs went taunt, stretching before rolling over off of me, his arms slinging against his eyes.

“Ugh, can you cover up?” I groaned, sitting up and pulling a blanket to pool in my lap, trying to look anywhere but Connor. “It’s daylight now, it’s too vivid.”

He just chuckled, running his hands to scrub at his face in an attempt to wake up, pushing tangled curls out of his eyes, grinning at me. “Sorry, geez. Didn’t hear you complaining last night.” Nonetheless, he yanked the blanket over his lap, rolling over to look at me with a smirk.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked, tapping my forehead with his thumb, before leaning over to kiss me there. He didn’t move away, just hovered over me on an elbow, and surrounded by his scent left me vaguely dizzy. I’d miss it when I left here, I knew.

I scrunched my nose, letting him know that the affection was unnecessary, but he kept leaning over, pressing another kiss to my temple.

“I don’t remember,” I sighed honestly. “You kinda kept me up till two am.”

“What time is it now?”


“Christ, sorry,” he laughed, sitting up immediately and pushing his hair back. “Guess I tired you out, huh?”

“Don’t get cocky. We were talking until twelve thirty, you only last half an hour, bucko,” I said, crawling quickly out of the bed and tugging on my panties.

“Ouch! Didn’t hear you complaining,” he chuckled, pulling his hair back into a ponytail holder. He was planning to let me shower first, then.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, and I could tell that was the end of the discussion. We had a habit of skirting the topic during the daylight hours–if we talked about it, then we thought about it, and if we thought about it, then–well, you get the picture. “I’m gonna shower.”


By the time I’m out, my hair combed in wet strands sticking to the back of my neck and dressed in a clear pair of panties and one of Connor’s bigger shirts, Connor is sprawled on the bed, fully dressed, staring at a worn copy of T.S. Eliot poems, the green cloth binding fraying between his lithe fingers. The steam from the shower followed me in the room, making it look like a hazy 1970s Polaroid, accompanied by the warm light trying desperately to filter into the room through Connor’s quilted curtains.

He’s brushed his hair, I noticed, and there’s a lingering scent of cologne in an attempt to mask the smell of him–of us, if I’m being entirely honest–without showering. I nearly snorted aloud when I saw what he was wearing.

“That’s my shirt, you know,” I choked out between laughter, unable to believe that Connor fucking Murphy is wearing my tie dye crop top with a pair of ratty grey sweatpants. It was big on him, with a little pink embroidered heart stitched messily over the chest. The sweatpants rode high on his square hips, so all I could see was the slope of his ribs into the flat plain of his stomach, his belly button barely peaking out over the elastic waistband of his boxers, which rode a little higher than the sweats.

He looked up from the book, grinning lethargically, letting me know he was still barely awake. I probably should’ve let him sleep longer, but I needed to leave soon, and I wanted to tell him goodbye.

“I know,” he sighed lazily. “You left it here last time. It’s really soft.”

I bit back my smile, crossing the room to sit beside him. “Fair enough,” I conceded, tucking back a piece of hair that was beginning to slip from his ponytail.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he pointed out, pouting his bottom lip.

“I forgot to bring a clean one,” I lied.

“You know you have extras here,” he said, suddenly frowning and returning to his book. I paused, unsure what had caused the sudden mood shift, and wanted to be careful moving forward in the conversation. “I mean, you can always borrow mine, I don’t care or anything–”

“You don’t want anyone to see me wearing it, I get it, I’ll switch back before I leave,” I said reassuringly, scooting away half an inch to give him space. It was easy to overload Connor–it wasn’t his fault, I really did understand. Sometimes social interaction was too much, especially when I’d spent almost twenty four hours with him, and we’d been so intimate.

“Fuck, I don’t care about that,” he hissed, flipping the pages of his book much too rapidly to be actually reading them. “Do you care about that?”

The second statement was shorter, softer, almost as if he didn’t want me to hear. It made me nervous–Connor had been doing better, a lot better. Throwing himself into school, into art, made him better. He wasn’t recovered–it was hard to tell if he ever would be, and I’d only ever seen a few of his episodes, but any form of relapse that I couldn’t help him control was unwanted.

“Of course I don’t care, Con,” I said softly, reaching up to soothe his hair softly, feeling him stiffen and relax beneath my fingertips. “Jeez, we’re in college. I couldn’t care less what people think.”

He nodded, eyes creased before closing, his lips pressed together in a frown. “Right, right, you’re right, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I muttered, feeling nervous. He certainly wasn’t in any mood to hear my news. Something was on his mind. “You good?”

“Huh? Yeah! Great, don’t sweat it!” He some how managed to morph his deer in the headlights expression into one of enthusiasm.  It was more than concerning, and I hadn’t noticed when he’d developed the ability to swallow back his feelings. I didn’t know why he felt like he needed to. “What’s the plan for today, kiddo? There’s a Clark Gable marathon on TCM tonight, I know you like that black and white crap.”

Shit. I swallowed thickly, realizing I needed to tell him, and now. I was hoping it would wait until at least after we had food in us, or at least until Connor was awake enough to reign in his emotions and think with a level head.

“When’s your roommate getting back?” I asked instead, scratching at the back of my neck and not meeting his gaze. I felt him squint angrily at me, aware of my avoidance. “Don’t want him to walk in on anything unseemly,” I laughed.

Connor was still watching me, I felt it, with a pinched, calculated expression. “We don’t have to fool around tonight,” he said softly. “We can just hang.”

His voice was that soft, melancholy tone again that made my heart constrict. He wasn’t feeling good, I realized. He clearly thought that I was upset with him–I wasn’t, but I realized with a jolt that my news certainly wasn’t going to help his sudden self conscious streak.

I shifted on the bed again, feeling his eyes on me as I delayed, and I could practically see his inner turmoil. I should stay here with him. He wasn’t doing well. But, I’d promised….

“Um,” I mumbled, pushing back my wet hair with my hand. “About that. I, uh, have plans for tonight.”

His eyebrows took a quick hike into his hairline, his slate eyes wide, before he horrified me by neutralizing his expression again before I could read him properly–he gave me a small smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Oh,” he said hoarsely. “That’s chill. You could’ve just told me that.”

I smiled gratefully back at him, reaching out to rest my hand on his knee. “You’re sure?” I asked softly, tracing a pattern out on the grey cotton knee of the sweatpants. He swatted my hand away, and I felt a sudden dip in my stomach. He was upset.

“Yes, geez,” he grumbled. “I am perfectly capable to spend a day without you, you know. I probably need to check in with my folks, anyway.”

“You’re sure?” I asked again, leaning back, a bit more skeptical. Connor saying he wanted to check in with his parents was the boldest lie I’d heard in a long time.

“Yes, Christ, shut it,” he hissed, flopping onto his back, the crop top riding comically up on his stomach, and, without thinking, I leaned forward quickly to press a wet kiss to the cluster of freckles on his ribcage, earning a loud swear from Connor, followed by a slew of giggles, his thin hands pushing at my hair to pull me away from his ticklish sides.

“Stop it! Stop! Christ–st–” he sat up abruptly and tangled his hands into my hair, yanking me down against him, his bare chest trapped between us, soft against my palms.

What had started as a gentle joke, just a silly peck, escalated as it tended to. It was slow–Connor’s laughter dying quickly in his chest, his breath hitching in the back of his throat instead. I opened my eyes to glance down at him, his eyes closed, his eyelashes flickering against his cheeks. I pulled back, just for a moment, amazed to find his lips parted, head tilted back, obvious that he expected me to move my lips to neck. I just chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the cleft of his chin.

“Not this morning, Con,” I whispered, kissing behind his ear.

“Just kissing,” he whispered, letting out a shuddering breath into my hair. Eyes still closed, his hands tightened in my shirt in an attempt to keep me against him.

“You know it won’t stop there,” I laughed. He pouted beneath me.

“But–I’m not wearing a bra. I’m all ready to fool around!” Connor snorted, hands digging harshly into my sides as he laughed.

I smothered my laugh against his jugular, fighting to control my breathing, before pushing myself up against Connor’s chest.

“Not now,” I sighed sadly, giving him a closed mouth kiss against his lips, watching his eyes fade as he chased me for another kiss.

“Okay,” he sighed. “Sorry, my fault.” Throwing a hand over his eyes, he groaned, tangling his fingers in his pretty, pulled back hair.

“Don’t be sorry,” I mumbled.

“Later,” he smiled against his fist, slate eyes staring up at the ceiling with amusement. “Later. Christ, no one told me my libido would get a second wind after fourteen.”

“You’ve always got your hand,” I reminded with a chuckle, rising from the bed to stretch. Distance, I needed distance to think. He wrinkled his nose in disdain.

“Yeah, no thanks, not the same.”

There was a beat of silence, where I caught Connor watching me from the bed, before turning away with a pinched expression. It triggered an oddly sick feeling in my stomach–I shouldn’t feel guilty. I shouldn’t. This was just fun, Connor was just my friend, nothing more.

“So, uh,” he coughed. “What was your plan for tonight?”

I stiffened, turning around to sit on the edge of the bed with my back to him, beginning to braid my hair. The bed dipped suddenly, and Connor’s leg was flush with mine, the other folded behind my back, and Connor’s fingers wove into my wet hair, beginning to plait it silently.

“I have a date.”

His hands stilled, just briefly, and I felt myself relax when his fingers began again. He hadn’t taken a single breath.



“Who with?” Cold. Uninterested. I growled low in my throat.

“Not sure. Some guy my mom set me up with–they’re pissed I don’t have a boyfriend, you know,” I reminded, and Connor just grunted in affirmation.

“You have no idea who he is?” Connor groaned in disgust. 

I shrugged. “He goes to school here–I think his name is Jared? He’s a business major. My mom is very impressed.”

Now, Connor really paused, his fingers abandoning the braid to snap his hands down into his lap.

“You know him?” I asked.

“Jared Kleinman?” Connor hissed, not looking at me.

“I think?” I said skeptically, unsure what about this kid had Connor in such a state.

“He’s an ass,” Connor growled. “An absolute asshole, bully, short-stack, scum bag, and you can’t go out with him. You can’t go out with that jerk off, trust me, okay? As your friend, I forbid you.”

I’d been taking everything Connor said seriously up to that point–it took a lot to make Connor that verbose, let alone that enraged–he’d been working on getting better, he really had–but his final statement made my eyes snap open, throwing my body off the bed.

“You forbid me?” I hissed, spinning with a wicked laugh. “I’m not your girlfriend, Connor. You can’t stop me from doing shit, okay?”

His eyes widened–in shock or shame, I wasn’t sure–sliding back up onto the bed. “I didn’t mean, fuck, I’m just trying to look out for you, okay? He’s bad news. He was–fuck, he was such an ass in highschool, okay?”

“And people can’t change, right?” I laughed crudely, watching the muscle twitch in his jaw. I’d pressed a button. Good. His eyebrows furrowed down over his glare, and I saw his hands clench and unclench in his lap. He’d caught my eyes flickering to them, and immediately looked helpless, wiping them on his jeans.

“I’m not having a fit,” he promised. “I’m not gonna hit you, I fucking swear to–”

“I know,” I lied, softening my posture and  looking away from him. “I know, Con. You’re not gonna hurt me again.”

Truth be told, he might. Relapse was easy–I knew, I’d seen it in teaspoon sized doses, whether be him throwing me against the door with too much force or be it a fist coming to connect on the wall behind my head after I gave a particular nasty comment. Connor had never hit me, not hard, but he almost had, and he’d said a few nasty things, broken some things of mine.

We were friends because I trusted him, because I didn’t want to leave him just because this felt hard. But I wouldn’t let Connor talk to me like that again, I’d promised myself. It meant a time out–no sex, no talking, not until he could calmly apologize and talk through what he was feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, scrubbing his hands over his eyes–he’d forgotten to paint his nails this week, I noticed, but his wrist had flowering patches of indigo and lavender peppered along his arm like blooming bruises–they were just left over from his last art class Friday. He really needed a shower, I realized.

“Don’t be sorry,” I said again, leaning against the bathroom’s doorjamb in lieu of joining him on the bed. If I sat on the bed, I’d want to touch him, and as much as he deserved reassurance, he didn’t need the positive reinforcement. He had to learn I was a finite fixture. “That Jared kid–he said something to you, right? In school. You didn’t like each other.”

Connor laughed mirthlessly, filling my stomach with lead. “Yeah, you could say that. He’s one of those weasely kids, ya know? With just shitty underhanded comments they get out of Mad magazine. Gets under your skin.”

It was too easy to picture, embarrassingly so, I thought, watching Connor now with his eyes downcast and his mouth pursed, I could still see him, just a year ago, and some punk kid whose comment landed on its mark. He probably sent Connor into fits.

I tried too hard not to picture Connor those nights, crying disgustingly in the shower, banging his head too hard against the tile, replaying over and over in his head what that little shit had said to him.

I didn’t want to go out with him. I hadn’t wanted to to begin with. But, I had to. I’d promised.

“I’m really sorry, Con,” I sighed softly, thunking my head against the doorjamb in punishment. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Don’t be,” he laughed bitterly again. “’S over now.” He held his arms open, silently asking me to come back down to him, just to make up. “Just because you’re sucking his cock now–”

He froze, eyes bugging out of his head, staring at something on the ceiling I couldn’t make out from here. My stomach churned uneasily, and the tips of my ears got uncomfortably warm. Connor sat up slowly, bracing himself on his arms, staring at the wall with a horrified expression. He was vaguely green around the collar of my shirt.

“You wanna stop. That’s why you told me. You wanna stop.”

I swallowed thickly. “Con–”

“Christ, kid! What happened to relationships and sex and school are too much? We said–”

“It’s out of my hands!” I gasped, Connor’s glare finally snapping to mine, melting me into the floor. “I don’t want to go out with him–you know my mom expects me to–”

“Fuck, I know, you’re parents want you to be a fucking baby factory with a rich husband, I know, okay?” He groaned, shoving his hands into his hair and dislodging the ponytail holder, his dark hair cascading around his shoulders, his whole expression pinched.

I flinched, shutting my eyes, wishing desperately to be somewhere else. He didn’t mean it, he was angry–it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“It’s just to appease my mom,” I sighed quietly, disgusted to realize how wet and broken my voice sounded. “Just to say I have a boyfriend, to keep her out of my hair. Otherwise she’d be down here every week, and I’d never be able to see you–”

“What if I pretended to be your boyfriend?” He said suddenly, making my gaze snap to his, despite my discomfort. He was staring seriously at me, and I felt sick to realize he was sincere.

“Trust me, Con, you don’t wanna do that.”

To subject him to that kind of scrutiny would be unfair. Connor was my favorite person in the world right now, and, despite coming from a good family, my mother would be less than thrilled to hear I was involved with an art major with a juvenile record.

He snorted. “I know I’m no Jared–”

“Don’t,” I glared. “Don’t. I’m sorry, but yeah, we can’t have sex for awhile, okay?”

“Fuck,” he hissed.

I felt sick–like crying. “I’m sorry if that ruins our friendship for you. I thought you might be able to tolerate spending time with me when I’m not getting you off.”

Connor’s horrified expression let me know he hadn’t actually thought of that, but it didn’t mean he hadn’t known.

“Hey,” he said softly, rolling off the bed to stand, his hands out stretched as if he was scared to spook me. “Hey, that’s not–hey, don’t cry.”

“Fuck off.”

“No,” he growled, coming forward to wrap his arms around me, still wearing that stupid crop top, pressing his face into my neck. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he murmured, his lips brushing my jaw. “You come first, you always come first. I’d rather have you than sex, you know that, right?”

His fingers scraped under my shirt to press against my skin, pulling me tighter to him, his fingertips tripping with friction.

“I know,” I sighed, going limp against him and wrapping my arms around his neck–it felt nice just to be close. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Fair enough.”

He pulled back, reaching up to cup my face, his fingertips burning where they thumbed my cheeks, wiping away the stray tears. He stared down at me so intently, and I realized he was still scared.

“Before your lame ass date, you wanna get some take out?” He asked with a crooked grin, leaning in to kiss my forehead quickly.

“Fine, but you have to change,” I giggled, pulling away despite his protests to grab my purse from his desk.

“I refuse to change–this color looks too good on me.”


“I can’t believe you’re gonna wear one of my shirts on your date with that wank,” Connor groaned, watching me button up one of his shirts over my chest, shaking his head. “He’s gonna try to cop a feel–it’s like he’s grabbing my boob, kid. That’s the worst violation of all.”

I rolled my eyes, brushing my hair back from my forehead. “First off, they’re still my boobs, but I promise I’ll bring the shirt back in mint condition. I doubt I’ll be kissing him tonight.”

Connor grinned around a mouthful of rice–he was cute like that, I realized, cheeks full and eyes crinkled with a smile. His mood had flipped swiftly, thank goodness, despite the fact it had started to pour outside, the sky pitch black despite the fact it was still early in the afternoon.

“Maybe he’ll buy you something nice,” Connor grinned. “I’m sure he’s loaded. If he brings a friend, make sure you hit on him.”

I snorted, but pulled on my slightly dirty skinny jeans anyway. “If he brings his friend on a date, I’m walking out and taking you home for thanksgiving.”

Connor grinned again. “God, that’d be rich.”

Thunder pounded through the room, making Connor’s hair products shake on his desk, causing me to jump back onto the bed to be near Connor.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” he teased softly, glancing out the window to see the downpour. “Christ, maybe you should stay in tonight. Last thing you need is to be trapped in some shitty French restaurant with mademoiselle rat face.”

“You’re hilarious,” I said bitterly, watching the leaves paste themselves to the window pane. “But, maybe I should reschedule. That’s not a shitty thing to do, right? It looks awful out there.”

“Nah,” Connor said around another mouthful. “Plus, if you do, we can have one last hoorah–okay, you’re right, sorry.”

I just grinned, hitting him lightly upside the head. “You can finish up in the shower, pretty boy.”

He frowned. “Fine.”

I pursed my lips, glaring out into the storm again. “I should call Jared ask him to reschedule,” I sighed again, feeling only vaguely guilty. I mean, what were the odds Jared even wanted to go on this date? Our parents set us up, for goodness’ sake.

I wondered briefly if Connor had worn this shirt in highschool, if Jared would recognize it.

“I highly recommend standing him up,” Connor said chipperly. “Allow me to hand you your phone–”

Connor froze, still half stretched across the bed, staring at my phone on the nightstand.

“Oh my God.”

“What?” I asked, concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh my God,” Connor said again, this time dissolving into a fit of giggles, yanking my phone off the charger and throwing it on the bed. “I can’t believe this!”

“Connor, if you don’t tell me–”

“He stood you up!”

“What?” I screeched, fumbling for my phone, surprised to see a few missed texts on my home screen.

From: Jared
To: Me

Srry 4 the short notice, do you think we coukd meet some other time? Don’t wanna get caught in the strom

“He can’t even spell,” I muttered in disgust, throwing my phone onto Connor’s bare stomach that shook with laughter.

“This is hilarious, oh my God. It’s so sad, you look so cute and everything! You were gonna put on mascara for that asshole!”

“I’m gonna dump this soy sauce on your shirt, Murphy.”

“Sorry, sorry, geez!”

He put down his plastic fork, reaching across the mattress to stroke his hand across my bare arm. For a minute, I thought he might ask me how I felt, but instead just asked, “Are you up for a round of Battlefront?”

I grinned, beginning to undo pearline buttons of Connor’s nice navy shirt. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

He grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners and his lips cracking with the force of his smile. “I look forward to it.”

Perfect! Thanks for this cute request~

Midoriya Izuku:

Really taken by surprise! He knew his s/o was strong, but still! He worries a bit and keeps checking in to see if you’re okay - “are you sure i’m not too heavy??”

He definitely blushes when you pick him up and stutters your name

Keep a good grip on him because Izuku is most likely too embarrassed to even put his arms around your neck!! please don’t drop him by accident!

Izuku does enjoy it though, he loves being taken care of by people close to him (and taking care of them too!)

“I should be the one carrying you, though.” he says good-naturedly

If anyone takes any pictures, he’ll be super embarrassed but will look at them fondly later on

Bakugo Katsuki:

uh he’s really not very happy about this


Bakugo is actually really hard to carry in your arms because he squirms a lot while he’s yelling, so you have to have a really tight grip on him so that he doesn’t fall!

If any of your classmates see this, they will 1) take pictures to tease Bakugo with later and 2) laugh and tease him at this very moment

He yells at them but it’s more halfhearted, he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you while you’re carrying him

If you manage to carry him for like a full 3 minutes he’s going to calm down and just pout instead

Kirishima Eijirou:

Babe! You’re so strong! So manly!” He praises you non-stop

He puts his arm around your neck and is content to be carried around for a while and for everyone else to see

May or may not pretend to be a rescued princess. “Allow me to show you my gratitude, brave hero.” he says and then kisses you! sneaky

After you put him down he’ll pick you up in his arms, too, and carry you around twice as long as you carried him!

After this he’s not embarrassed to ask you to carry him again. “Babe my feet hurt can you carry meee”

3 out of my 5 favorite autistic tv characters (a list that is composed of pretty much all the autistic characters ive seen on tv that are not awful) arent even canonically autistic and that kinda says something about how autism is portrayed in media 


“Artsy” Photos of Trash on Patong Beach (That I Picked Up After)

This morning’s beach walk turned into hours spent picking up plastic bags along the shore. Every few steps there was another one! Patong Beach is BIG. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. None of the many tourists paid any attention to what I was doing, though I think I successfully photo-bombed quite a few new Facebook profile pics with my fistful of sand-plastic.

At one point, I couldn’t find a garbage can to dispose of one of the batches of bags I’d collected. I walked through a fancy hotel, passed people eating breakfast with my loot outstretched and dripping as I searched for something (passive aggressively hoping the hotel clientele would take note and maybe think twice about their trash once they joined the beach crowd).

When the tide came back by the middle of the day, there wasn’t much more I could do. The sea was eating it all up. I decided to try and enjoy myself and dive into the water. Within minutes a plastic bag was thrust into my face by a wave.

This all left me feeling quite depressed throughout the day as I walked through the Las Vegas Strip of crap that makes up this chaotic coastal town. These touristy beaches are getting ripped to shreds by so many people who do not seem to care about the impact they are making. Locals would give me “thumbs up” but I think they’ve probably given up.

I know that despite the effort I put in this morning, I didn’t really do much to make a difference. I hardly made a dent in what was there in front of me, and this shit is happening everyday! I don’t even want to think of the volume of plastic bags floating out to the sea. Every. Day. From this beach alone.

I came back at sunset hoping to enjoy the view but I just couldn’t help myself. I decided to take “artsy” photos of the trash and then dispose of it (the lighting was really good!). Hundreds of people saw what I was doing and didn’t bat an eye. For a while two girls joined me. I dropped some on accident in front of this guy and he just stared at me as I struggled to balance what I had in my hands and pick up the damp garbage again.

As I’ve been traveling I’ve been studying responsible, ethical, sustainable, and ecological tourism practices. Even though I plan to spend my career in the hospitality industry, sometimes I really hate tourism. But it is going to be here no matter what so I might as well try to make things a little bit better. At times the right answer can be complex and ambiguous, but I think people littering all over a beach is pretty cut and dry! Why don’t people pack out their trash???There were garbage cans in most places along the beach path.

Unseelie Fae

Introduction to the Unseelie

Definition: The terms Seelie and Unseelie aren’t actually species of fae, they are fae courts. So “Unseelie fae” are fae spirits who are a part of any smaller court that falls under the Unseelie Court at large, or is loyal to the Unseelie Court in general. There are many smaller courts local to different areas and principalities, and those individual courts may be aligned with the much larger Unseelie Court or not. Members of the Winter and Autumn courts tend to be Unseelie aligned as well, but they are separate courts so it depends on the political climate of the time.

Species: Since this article discusses Unseelie fae and the Unseelie Court, that means it covers a very wide variety of different fae species. Certain species of fae are commonly known as Unseelie because they have an extremely high likelihood of being aligned with the Unseelie Court, but every individual fae’s court alignment is actually independent of their species in theory. In practice, since family lineages and court alignments are essential to fae culture, certain fae species tend to be so closely associated with Seelie or Unseelie because family lines usually stay loyal to the same court for many generations. 

Here’s a short list of some fae species that are typically Unseelie aligned:

  • Alp Lauchra
  • Bean Nighe or Bean Sídhe
  • Cat Sídhe
  • Cu Sídhe
  • Dullahan
  • Fachen
  • Fuath
  • Gean Cánach
  • Glaistig
  • Leanan Sídhe
  • Sluagh Sídhe

Personality: The word “Unseelie” is typically translated to mean “unblessed” or “damned”. If anyone has ever seen the TV show Supergirl, then you’ll understand what I mean by saying that the Unseelie remind me a little of the Daxamites - they are generally hedonists who enjoy entertainment, indulgence, and delicious food. Unseelie fae cuisine includes magical plants native to their regions in the fae realms and sometimes even human spirits. Unseelie fae enjoy music and dance as much as any fae, but entertainment for them also may include tricking or torturing others (particularly those they see as lesser than them like humans and other mortal species). However, the Unseelie are willing to be accepting of outsiders when those non-fae can prove themselves extraordinarily skilled, powerful, and strong in ways that they respect.

Morality: If there was an Unseelie motto, it would be “we do what we want to.” While the Seelie sense of pride and honor relies more on a set of cultural rules, the Unseelie respect power and might. Many behaviors considered rude or cruel by others are in fact respectable and natural to an Unseelie fae. For example, not taking advantage of someone or dominating them when one has the power to do so is actually considered weak and dishonorable by Unseelie standards. This is why they do not consider it inappropriate or rude to treat humans disrespectfully or cruelly by human standards, and also why they do not necessarily need any provocation at all to initiate such behavior.

The Unseelie Court

Origins: I’ve read this from multiple sources and had it verified by the Unseelie fae I know that originally, in the beginning, there was only one large fae court, which then split when the Unseelie wanted to do things differently from the Seelie and no longer be bound by their philosophies and laws.

Political Power: Though the Unseelie Court may seem unorganized or unstructured compared to the Seelie Court, there is always a hierarchical power structure - it is just very fluid at times. Essentially, the survival of the fittest is the rule of the court. Theoretically, any Unseelie fae can challenge the king and queen of the court to a royal duel for the throne. In practice, only fae belonging to noble Unseelie family lines would ever make such a challenge - and only if they are willing to bet their otherwise immortal lives on it. Unseelie duels are always to the death to ensure that the winner is truly the strongest and most powerful of the two. In this way, Unseelie culture has a distinct vicious warrior-element to it. Noble families tend to have many advantages in fighting each other, which makes commoners and outsiders unlikely to win duels against those considered superior to them. 

Generally, the longer a king and queen reign the Unseelie Court, the more noble fae they have had to kill to maintain their positions over time. The same that is true of the throne is also true for all the lower positions on the political hierarchy - all court titles are earned by might through duels and maintained by dealing with any challenges that may appear. Thus title appointments are essentially non-existent in the Unseelie Court. Shifts in who occupies which titles and positions occur at what may seem like random intervals since it all depends on the strength of those current leaders and the willingness of any challengers to come before them. Hence the appearance of disorganization or fluidity at times.

Hierarchy: At the top of the court is the king and queen, who work together but each have their own responsibilities and must both defend and maintain their titles. There are other positions within the upper Unseelie Court, which typically live in a castle. While noble Unseelie fae vie for power and fight amongst each other to control the upper levels of the whole court, there are lower positions that relate to specific regions within the fae realms and places on Earth as well. These localities may choose to be Unseelie aligned or not, and thus the upper levels of the Unseelie court must work to maintain loyalty - very occasionally threatening war if absolutely necessary.

Other Information

The Host: Common Unseelie fae who do not belong to a noble family line may do any number of things with their time and have a large variety of functions in fae society or the natural world at large - usually this is highly dependent on their species. Some common Unseelie fae choose to join the Sluagh Sídhe of “The Host” or “The Slought,” which is known as “the band of the unsanctified dead who fly above the earth, stealing mortals and take great pleasure in harming humans” (x). They are brutal, chaotic, and enjoy harming and not infrequently kidnapping humans. I recommend staying away from Unseelie fae when they are traveling as a part of the Host at all costs. They are known to particularly active on Samhain/Halloween and mostly associated with the Autumn Court.

Human Interaction: While Unseelie fae are often characterized as bad or evil, it really depends on your perspective and how you choose to interact with them. I recommend that most humans generally stay away from the Unseelie and don’t choose to get involved. Most (but not all) Unseelie fae will only stop seeing you as just another pitiful mortal and weak human if you are able to display and demonstrate some real strength of magical prowess and character - which is difficult to do even in comparison to ordinary common fae and their innate powers.

If you encounter one by accident and just want to avert trouble, as irksome as it is to do so it is usually safe to tell them what they want to hear (apologies, I’m such a weak human and you are so power, etc., please just let me live I’ll leave now) and you try to can back away and leave safely. If you see the Host, genuinely just run as fast as possible. If you have permanent Unseelie residents - do not try to just banish them from their own territory. The offerings that are generally accepted by other fae will usually be accepted by Unseelie fae as well (cream, milk, honey, glittery objects).

- Mod Fire

Sources of Information: Mostly UPG via interactions with Unseelie fae nobles and many articles on fae in general (compared to or verified by Unseelie fae I’ve met) in addition to my own observations and speculation.

glyphenthusiast  asked:

I was almost expecting Martin to be The Chosen One, whether by accident or sheer luck, and the phoenix to be a metaphorical interpretation of Richard coming back. Or Richard really coming back, looking at Martin and going "You're that guy who killed me!"

The last one may happen later in the story, if and when I finish my other projects and have time to work on it. I don’t think Martin’s the Chosen One though, that would defeat the purpose of the premise in my opinion. However, prophecy and destiny aren’t everything and you never know how things will turn out.

anonymous asked:

Oh wow I just realized that the motorbike guy that Brandon is watching on his tv is him. He had a bad accident and lives a crappy life since he can't do what he's passionate about

Yup 😭 That story made me really sad. That character was one of the easiest to sympathise with for me.

anonymous asked:

okay ready how about 2D hanging out w his s/o when he accidentally pulls their hair and they moan, like loudly and then well you know ;)

2D: You guys would be hanging out in your room just doing something that you guys like to do together, whether it be listen to music, watch movies, or what ever it is you fancy. In the middle of it, he started to play with your hair because it’s one of those things that really seems to relax him. On accident, he pull on your hair a little too tight, and in response to the hair tugs you were used to during sex, you let out this distinguished moan that always turned him on. You exchanged looks, seeing his obsidian eyes filling with a sudden and unexpected lust. Without much thought, you let your lips crash onto his to start what would turn into another session of sex; all because of an unusual reflex of yours.

Yesterday after working to clean my house so the a/c repair guy could come fix it because we had no a/c (and it’s 90’s and feels like temp near or over 100 always), I found out that one aunt was in a car accident and is in really bad condition, and a different aunt has cancer. So That was horrible. And I’m still in debt and either have to have my health instance canceled - which I can’t because I am Sick - or not pay bills, which will mess up my credit even more. Sigh. Things are difficult.


Some new practice pics, “Turning” and “Seeing Red.”

Funny stories with these two. I have had nothing but undead swarming me lately. Of course as a necromancer, I should be used to it, but they have influenced me something crazy. I couldn’t stop myself from drawing a tribute picture to my wonderful revenant zombies for their constant devotion and biting. “Seeing Red” was born out of pure frustration–a complete accident, really. I felt the need to draw to get my anger out, and the fury and upset can be seen so clearly in his face. Might actually make sense to draw when feeling more passion. Pictures turn out so stunning.

A Wife’s Duty - Eisuke Ichinomiya - Part 4: Touch (Smut)

Plot: Eisuke mysteriously becomes involved in a serious car accident. While he remains unconscious, Vivian tries to track down the person responsible for hurting her husband. As the bidders try to solve the main problem, many new problems arise and Vivian experiences what it is really like to be a billionaire’s wife. During hard times, Vivian finds that the best place to feel safe is the presence of her love. But if her enemies can’t make her crumble, who can?

Characters: Vivian Ichinomiya (MC); Eisuke Ichinomiya; Soryu Oh; Mitsunari Baba; Ota Kisaki; Mamoru Kishi; Luke Foster; Shuichi Hishikura; Hikaru Aihara

Episodes: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

It’s been a few weeks since Eisuke was shot. His wound has pretty much healed but I and Luke have still restricted him from doing too much. I and Eisuke have been doing mostly paperwork and meetings through the internet the last few weeks to keep mainly Eisuke safe. I just couldn’t bear to leave his side so Soryu and the others have taken it upon themselves to increase the security and finding more information.

I dressed in a white button-up blouse, similar to Eisuke’s shirt, and a black pencil skirt with black pumps.

When I walked into the bedroom, I saw Eisuke, struggling to put on his shirt. I giggled quietly and walked behind him. I took the other half of the shirt and pulled it, pushing his arm lightly through the hole. He stood in front of me and I suddenly wrap my arms around his torso, under his shirt, pressing my cheek to his chest.

I began buttoning his shirt, while he gazed at me.

“If you need help, even if it’s for the littlest things like putting on your shirt, you should ask,” I say, but Eisuke started unbuttoning the top buttons of my shirt instead.

I continued buttoning him up while he unbuttons mine. He exposed my chest and rested his hand on where my heart is. His hand travelled up to my cheek, which I nuzzled into. Once I finished, I wrapped my arms around his back, careful to not put pressure on his still healing wound.

Eisuke kissed the top of my head before he sat on the bed and pulled me towards him.

He pulls my body to stand in between his legs as he sits on the bed. His lips attached to my neck while his hands wander around near my skirt.

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anonymous asked:

S/o who's creed is no good Deed goes unpunished

Im going to fucking cry I tried to copy paste the answer from word docs and my clumsy ass fucking clicked copy. So it might not be as good.

S/O had enough of this. All of these problems they had to fix, only to let Luciano down. It was enough. Especially after the accident. He had went from a human to a tin man. All because they couldn’t manage a simple protection spell. “What do you mean you can’t fix this?” he asked with a tremendous amount of concern. “L-Luci I don’t know how…I can’t….I’m sorry…I’m just messing everything up” S/O stammered, tears already beginning to flood in their eyes. “S/O please tell me you’re kidding…how am I supposed to live like this?!” he questioned, practically yelling. “I’m really sorry I just wanted to protect you-” S/O tried to say, only to be cut off by incoherent Italian cursing. “Luci please….I already know I mess up all the time” S/O said through tears, their fist tensing. “All of my good deed just get me punished….I-I can’t take this” S/O shouted, causing the room to become engulfed with green fire. Luciano froze in fear, scared of what could come next. “Bella(o)…I don’t mind if you make mistakes….I’m sorry”he mumbled, backing away. S/O blinked a few times before seeing the havoc they were causing. I could’ve killed Luciano like this. The fire died down quickly as S/O grabbed a broom. “I need to go…” they muttered. “S/O wait! I-” Luciano called, but it was too late. They were already gone.

Every Unanswered PLL Question from every episode

Since I think the Charles is CeCe reveal is fake, I’m going to watch the show from the beginning and see what questions I have. (Any “answers” given in Game Over, Charles are irrelevant to me because I think they’re fake). All answers given in the show will be bolded with the episode it was answered in, in parenthesis. Just a warning this is going to be long hence the show has over 100 episodes. Also, I have a lot of -A related questions that have never been confirmed. Even during Mona’s reign as -A, some things just don’t add up. I know Marlene says that everything from season 1 and until the end of season 2 is Mona and season 3 starts a new -A, but like I said, some things don’t add up.

Pilot (1x01)
Spencer heard someone scream ‘that night’, who was it?
Why did the Montgomery’s leave Rosewood for a year? To get away from Rosewood after Alison went missing. (2x19)
Did Ezra follow/know Aria was going to be at the Hollis Bar & Grill or was he there coincidentally?
Why did Hanna roll her eyes when she waved to Aria in class?
Who was the blonde in Maya’s (Alison’s) room?
How did Hanna start off in the crowd looking at the chaos of Alison’s house when a body was found then ended up behind Spencer and Aria (behind the crowd)?
What’s the “Jenna Thing”? Alison lit a firecracker in the Cavanaugh’s garage while Jenna and her step brother, Toby, were in it. The firecracker ended up blinding Jenna. Alison told the girls to keep it a secret and they let Toby take the blame for it. (1x02)

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