occupy groups

Am I... Evil?? AU

Character A wakes up one day with no memory of who they are. After a quick look around, they find some pretty disturbing items, such as body bags, shovels, and a strange assortment of weapons. Character A quickly comes to the conclusion that they’ve been kidnapped and either drugged or sustained a head injury.

As they continue to search for an exit, Character A comes upon a door that leads them to a basement, the corner of which is occupied by a group of tied up teenagers. To Character A’s surprise and confusion, the teenagers all seem to be terrified of them.

anonymous asked: Imagine request: protective boyfriend Monty at Bryce’s pool party

Monty X Reader

“You’re seriously not wearing a bikini to the party, are you? I mean, it’s Bryce’s party we’re talking about.”

“Baby, I’m stupid. But I’m not that stupid.” Monty smirks as he lounges on your bed, his gaze following your every move as you tug on a pair of loose jean shorts and a plaid shirt that you button up only halfway so your bikini top can still be seen beneath. “The bikini is only there in case I get tossed into the pool. This way I’ll have something to walk around in even as my shorts and shirt dry.”

“If that happens, I’ll kick someone’s ass. I’m not leaving your side so some punk ass can grope you as he shoves into the pool just so he can see your bikini.”

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“Moments” (1/5) - Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 3401

Plot: The first time you met Peter Parker

Warnings:why the f**k you lying♫….. (someone lies but that’s all I can think of that’s bad(?))

Author’s Note: So this is the first part of a series I’m working on! Please let me know if you like!


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A Truce - William Nylander #7

Originally posted by dallas41chicago88

about/request: Thank you so much for letting me send in my imagine anyway, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad at all about it. Could I please have a William Nylander one where you guys have a secret relationship from everyone and when someone flirts with you somewhere, he’s gets super jealous and outs you guys?

warnings: cursing and drinking

authors note: no problem at all, honestly!! i hope this fit what you wanted :) idk what it is with me and having auston hit on all the girl’s will’s trying to get with in my imagines but oh well

word count: 1328

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ranichi17  asked:

I know everyone's focused on Manchester right now, but Marawi, Philippines is currently being occupied by a group claiming to be ISIS.

Yes, martial law has also been declared there, which is also scary knowing Duterte. 

From what I’ve read, they haven’t necessarily been occupied however, a group, known as the Islamic State of Lanao (linked to ISIS) have stormed the city. Jihadist insurgence has generally been a big issue in the Mindanao area for a while, decades it seems. Please keep your thoughts in that area.

For our followers, here is some further reading, (here) (here) (here) (here) (here)

However, I do not live in the Philippines, nor am I Filipino so my perspectives are just from what I’m reading as an outsider :)



Fandom: Harry Potter 
Pairing: Muggle!James x Lily

Lily almost didn’t notice the small cafe, tucked away on a busy London street. The rain had come as a surprise on her way back from university, and she was caught in the middle of it with no umbrella. Hurriedly, she sloshed through the puddles, pulling her hood further down to shield her face. Then she saw it from the corner of her eye. Turning around, she stood in front of the cafe, admiring it in all its glory. Its teal painted, wooden exterior was completed with a large divided window with decorative potted plants clustered below it, thriving in the recent change of weather. Reaching for the door knob, she twisted it and stepped inside to be greeted by a wave of warmth. Wiping her soggy feet on the doormat, she slipped off her hood revealing her deep red hair. Inside the exposed brick walls were adorned with shelves holding books of all genres and colours. Mismatched armchairs were littered around the room in small groups, occupied by friends huddling together over warm beverages, having conversations lit by fairy lights dangled from the ceiling.

 Lily stepped onto the wood floor, wet shoes leaving footprints behind them, and ambled her way towards the back of the cafe where a tall boy with noticeably messy, black hair stood behind a counter. Within a closer proximity, lily could see that he managed a deadpan expression with every word he spoke. While she was examining the chalkboard menu that hung behind him, he grumbled something that sounded along the lines of a ‘how can I help you?’ and lily wondered if he was breaking records for just how reluctant to actually follow through with that offer he looked. Skimming over the wide variety of beverages, her eyes came to a stop at a drink she was delighted to see. 
“Can I have a salted caramel tea, please?”
Gaining his attention, the boy looked up and for a moment lily was sure his eyes softened at the sight of her, but then he quickly casted his gaze back down and proceeded to make her order. Subconsciously, she tapped her foot along to the beat of a quietly played song, coming from a record player which had been dismissed into a corner. Lily recognised it as not something up and coming, but from the memories of her childhood instead. This, and the fact that she could hear someone humming along brought a nostalgic feeling and a happy smile to her face.  But when she turned her attention back to the bedraggled boy making her tea, she discovered that it was infact him humming over the bubbling of the kettle. How could such a miserable git have such good music taste? Lily found it infuriating so she ceased her foot tapping and furrowed her brow, fighting her sudden desire to like him. He placed her steamy drink on the counter, an absent-minded look in his eyes hidden behind fogged glassed as she slid him her money and took her drink in search for a chair.

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Tom Kha Gai and Whiskey (a Malec fanfiction)

Hello. My first “shortest” Malec fanfic.

Warning: angst, a lot of angst. Dealing and reflecting with the aftermath of 2x12.

Summary: It’s has been a few days since the switch and the aftermath is rainy and cloudy.


It has been a few days. Slow, unsteady, and uneventful. Until news of a missing girl with unexplained circumstances brought Alec and Jace to an old Downworlders’ spice shop in Chinatown. After 10 minutes of useless interrogation with a few sale clerks. Alec withdraw and decided to let Jace take the lead.

He settled by the opened shop’s doors. Standing on the steps and listening to the soft rain. He distracted himself with the motions and movements of the countless mundanes walking about in a city that never sleeps. Across the street, there was a small noodle shop with a few individuals seated. A soccer game aired in the corner in a tiny television set. Occupying a group of elderly men. A young couple, smiling and whispering among themselves. While a young mother on the opposite side was feeding her toddler son. The smell of the noodles’ broth filled with spices, herbs, and curry was making Alec suddenly hungry and sad.

“I got nothing.” Jace said, standing next to Alec. Jace sighed.

“They don’t want to talk us.” Alec straighten his back. “I don’t blame them.” Alec said softly.

“You hungry?” Jace asked. Jace looked across the street. His fingers still unconsciously playing with the new ring hanging from his neck.

“Yeah, I think I might get something to go and bring Magnus something.” Jace nodded. He looked at Alec, sympathetic and with a hint of pity. Alec knows he wants to say something. Alec looked away and headed across the street. He has been receiving this unconsciously and unintentional “looks” and concerning lectures from both his siblings since the switch. It’s making him uncomfortable and it’s pissing him off. He doesn’t need pity. He quickly rushed to dodge the rain. Jace followed.

He does have to admit, he is pitiful. In the past few nights, Alec continued to find any form of excuses to see Magnus. Food has been the easiest route he can think of. However, it’s still a sad attempt but it’s the only gesture, Alec could think of. His logic was Magnus needs to eat and Alec is very capable in getting food.

When Alec arrived, he knocked. Little wet from the rain from his quick walk. He tried use his speed rune, but it was a little hard with hands full with hot Thai noodles. After a series of knocks, The doors opens automatically. Magnus knows it’s him. It’s a little comforting to know that Magnus still opens his doors for him. The loft is lit and alive, with the balcony doors wide open. Letting in the cool rain and the echoing sounds of the rain drops. Alec isn’t sure if he should closes it.

He walked into the kitchen. Setting the food down. Magnus is no where to be seen. But Alec knows where he is. He’s in his studies, door closed and isolated across the loft. He has been locked in there every day. Alec took his dampened jacket off. He moved around the kitchen to prepare the food. He has made a detailed study of Magnus’ kitchen in the past days. Memorizing every locations of the forks, the knives, and the spoons. Where the bowls, the plates, the pots, and the pans are. The collection of fine China and golden tea sets. As Alec was finishing setting the dinner table, soft footsteps pulled Alec out of a semi-trance of his quiet preparation. It’s Magnus.

A hint of sweet musky sandalwood filled the air when he walked in. He looked perfect. His hair is up. His make up is done and flawless.

Alec misses him, so much. He wants to kiss him. To greet him like he uses to.

“Hi” Alec smiled.

“Hello.” Magnus grinned weakly. “Alec, you don’t have to keep doing this. I can feed myself.” But you don’t. Alec said to himself. Magnus hasn’t been eating much. He nibbles and picks at it.

However, he has been drinking. A lot.

“Tom kha gai? I hope I am pronouncing it right?” Alec smiled again. “Um…it smell so good. I was in Chinatown with Jace. Stumble upon this little Thai noodle shop…I…I hope…it’s good.” Magnus is looking at him, with the same hint of pity he saw in Jace. Alec bite his lips. Holding in his emotions. “…it’s spicy, I got the mild one too…just in case.” He looked away.

“Thank you Alec.” Magnus moved to help him.

They ate in silence. Listening to the rain. Magnus actually ate more this time, half his bowl. When he finished. He thanked Alec again. Putting the leftovers in the refrigerator and return to his office. Shutting the door.

Alec settled in the living room. Unsure if he should leave, but he decided to stay and made a pot of tea. The balcony doors still open. Still raining and cold. And it’s strangely comforting. He spend a few hours looking at some cold cases he has left at Magnus’ early in the week. Scattering them on the coffee table. Busying himself with work.

When Magnus reemerged, passing Alec towards his bedroom. Alec can smell the strength of a few glasses of whiskey coming off Magnus. Somehow, Alec felt a sudden surge of a need to be bold. He followed Magnus, who has disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of the shower was started as the heels of Magnus’ shoes dances on the bathroom marble floor. Alec wants to do something, anything. However, as he approached the bathroom, the boldness is gone. Alec stepped back and seated himself on the bed. Telling himself, that he should go. Leave Magnus alone. It is getting pitiful.

He looked up to see Magnus standing there, body wrapped in his silk green kimono. His face is bare and one hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey and the other around a nearly empty Dalmore’ bottle. He’s looked right at Alec.

“Do you want to know a secret?” Magnus’ voice was soft and hollow. “I actually can’t get drunk anymore. After a few hundreds years. I am grown immune to it’s problematic charm.” He finished the whiskey in one big gulp. “…it sucks.” He chuckled. “…all the pretending…and this was so expensive…Dalmore 62, perfectly aged.” His smile grew. Alec hasn’t seen Magnus smiled for a while now, but this smile. It was sad and broken.

He put the glass and bottle down and walked towards Alec. It’s a slow and uncertain walk. Alec feels weak, looking into Magnus’ eyes. They were red and swollen, filled with fear. The same eyes he saw when he shoved and pushed Magnus against the prison’s walls. While he was in Valentine’ vessel.

“What tragedy to bestow on us. Unlikely lovers…you and I. To love and despise at the same time is an interesting feeling.” He sniffed. Holding in his tears. Alec hated how he is heartbreakingly captivated by Magnus’ words and pain. Alec hates it.

“Darling, I know…I know why you doubted me. I know why you did what you did. I know.” Magnus is so close. The closest he has been since the switch. “But it hurts…still.” He cried, lips pouted, and as he pointed his finger to his chest. “…here…and here.” The he pointed at his own forehead. Alec wanted to reach out, to hold him, to change him, and to make him believe.

“Magnus, I am sorry…I am so sorry.” Alec choked on his words. Magnus runs his fingers softly through Alec’s hair.

“I am sorry too.” He stopped and pulled back. His face is stoned. “What are you doing here?” His voice is cold again. “Tell me…Alexander.” He grinned. “Someone like you shouldn’t be dancing with the devil.” His marked eyes showed, glowing in the dimmed room. They were alluring, beautiful, haunting, and dangerous.

“Because I love you.” Alec answered firmly. Magnus’ wide cat eyes were wet with tears and pulled Alec into an intoxicated trance. He pulled himself up onto Alec’ lap. Seated face to face. Magnus’ arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. And the tears returned and his muffled cries filled the room. Alec steady and carefully wrapped his arms around Magnus. Slowly pulling him tightly in. He can feel Magnus’ fingers digging into his skin. Magnus tucked his head between Alec’s head and shoulder.

“I should hate you.” Magnus whispered. Filled with tears and pain. “I hate what you did. I hate your kind…so much.” His words were broken. “…I hate that you didn’t see me.” Alec pulled him closer. “I begged you…Alexander.” Magnus’ tone shifted to desperation. Alec head hurts and the tears is pouring out, painfully.

Magnus pulled his face closer to his. His lips seeking for Alec. Alec turned, wanting Magnus to lead. The kiss was weak at first. Then a sudden rage filled them. Blood so warm and pounding. So rush and desperate. Magnus pushed him back, pressing his body on to Alec. Lips pressed hard and sloppy. Old whiskey has never tasted so sweet, so bitterly sweet.

Selfishly, how Alec needed Magnus’ kisses and touch. The absence of Magnus was slowly drowning Alec inside. He was so afraid. Afraid that any wrong motion or act, he would be punished to never touch Magnus again.

Alec knows. He has know for awhile. That Alec is selfish. Incredibly selfish in anything Magnus is. He wants Magnus, in every form, every nature, and every way. He wants Magnus’ happiness, his sorrow, and his pain. And he will take it all.

The shower was turned off. Left unused. They’re in bed, arms wrapped tightly and cocooned in the silk comforter. Alec watched as Magnus’ tired greenish yellow eyes slowly dimming and drifting off. Soon, Magnus was asleep, his body pressed against Alec. The sound of the rain and the faintness of Magnus’ breaths as he slumbered filled the room. Alec kissed his soft raven hair and whispered. “I promise you. I will never hurt you again.”

When Alec arrived at the institution. He was late. But he didn’t care. Magnus let him hold him last night. It was very hard to pull himself away from Magnus this morning. Magnus kissed him and whispered softly in his ears. “It’s okay. I’ll see you tonight.”

Alec knew it will take time. He will wait and he will be patient. Magnus needs time.

“You’re late.” Izzy said, worried. Alec didn’t replied as he seated himself across from her. He sees Sebastian next to her. He nodded at Alec and Alec returned a nod. He’s still uncertain about Sebastian, but Izzy seems confident. Suddenly, he felt a present beside him. It was Jace. He seated himself down and pushed a file towards Alec.

“I thought it’s best that you do this one.” Jace sounded suspicious and guilty.

“What is it?” Alec opened the file. A collection of profiles, pictures of Downworlders. In the stack was a picture of Magnus. “What is this?”

“They want a DNA sample…”

Note: sorry for the angst. And the grammatical errors. Did it on my iPad (late in the night) and posted it using the the Tumblr app and the app kinda of suck.

anonymous asked:

hi! im sorry if this question is weird but ive been arguing with myself over whether or not i should learn russian. the language seems really interesting but i havent been able to get past the little random bits of politics ive seen, especially concerning the lgbt community and such that are particularly personal and its been making me hesitant. i was wondering what advice you'd give, what you think, or how i could possibly get past that?

Hello, anon!

I love this question! Your question isn’t weird at all (and is in fact a question many people have before/during learning Russian). Disclaimer: I am quite liberal and openly gay. The tl;dr of my answer is to not let politics get in the way of learning this beautiful language that gives you access to several incredible cultures.

Russian politics are……. interesting. Instead of looking at political corruption/nearly-unanimous socially conservative political views as a reason not to learn Russian, look at it as something interesting about modern Russian culture. Russia has an incredibly rich history, and there are historical reasons as to why their beliefs are the way they are. Of course I don’t agree with many of the Russian gov’s beliefs, but when you understand why it is the way it is, it makes it slightly more bearable. I use the problems in Russian politics as motivation to do something to change it, and changing a culture starts with talking to people. You can’t have a meaningful dialogue with (most) Russians without speaking Russian.

I believe most people are inherently decent. As such, I do not think the majority of people would hate gay people or be against gay rights if they fully understood what a gay person was. In Russia, for instance, many people’s argument for being anti-gay is that they don’t want pedophiles in Russia. To an American, this makes no sense; the response seems to be a complete non sequitur. However, to many Russians, homosexuality and pedophilia are inseparably intertwined. To many Russians, homosexuality and Western/Capitalist excess are inseparably intertwined. To many Russians, homosexuality and the end of “real” masculinity are inseparably intertwined. Russian culture puts a negative value on homosexuality in many different ways for many different reasons.

However, you can discuss these things with Russians. While many anti-gay extremists do unfortunately exist (most notably the group “Occupy Pedophilia”), the vaaaast majority of Russians wouldn’t physically hurt you for being openly gay (or for talking to them about gay rights). As such, it is possible to have conversations with most Russians about it (although, for the best results, I would not recommend holding these conversations around children). Yes, many will be resistant to the topic, but if you persist, many will have an open discussion about their views on the matter (especially in a small or private setting). If you question their beliefs and force them to think through it, you can often make progress. Don’t yell at them about their views or talk down to them or go one about how backwards their beliefs are. Just ask questions. Be an interested listener. Make them point out the connections between homosexuality and the many bad things they associate it with (they’ll struggle). You can often make them at least a bit more tolerant. Changing a culture starts with ever-so-slowly changing the views of individual people. Additionally, while Russia is a homophobic country, it isn’t quite as bad as we make it out to be.

I would also say that there are many, many reasons to learn Russian that have nothing to do with the politics of Russia. Learning Russian gives you access to many, many countries in Eastern Europe and Central Asia besides Russia itself, with each offering its own culture. Russian/Russophone literature is also incredible, and learning Russian allows you to experience it in the original. Russian art and architecture is stunningly beautiful. Russians are amazingly hospitable. The Russian language itself is a beautiful one, and one that is easier to study than many people assume.

If you have any more questions or want advice on how to start learning Russian or want me to go more in depth about anything, please feel free to ask or message me! I’d be more than happy to answer.

So please, please don’t let politics get in the way of learning this wonderful language. Thanks again for the question!

The Cadillac’s

Danny Zuko x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 626

Warnings: Body worship babes!

     Summary: Reader is basically to hardcore to be a pink lady and is essentially a female T-Bird. Danny is super into her

Your name: submit What is this?


You  played a very important role in the social structure of Rydell High School and no one could deny that. You and your gang were one of three distinct groups occupying this area of Rydell; The Pink Ladies, The T-Birds and your gang, The Cadillac’s in mention of your candy apple red convertible.

The Cadillac’s and The T-Bird’s had a pretty cordial relationship but The Pink’s tended to avoid you ladies like the plaque, you assumed it was because you were a rival girl gang. “Y/N, Hiya Y/N” you hear in an overly nasally tone and roll your eyes before turning around. You slowly removed your dark sunglasses and handed them over to your right hand lady, Nails. “Can I help you, Patty?” you ask, trying your best to look interested but not really caring if you succeed.

“We’ll I was just wondering if you wanted to help out with the yearbook, you know its a really good time and I think you ladies would just bust at the chance” She rambles making your ears hurt a bit “Pass Dollface, I’ve got other plans” You say, letting her down as easily as possible before gesturing for her to move along. “Can you believe her Y/N, the nerve of some” Queenie, another member of the Cadillac’s snarks, over her slushy. “Hush Angel face” You smile, putting your sunglasses back on before turning around to face The Pink’s table, waving at Rizzo teasingly.

(Later that day, in Gym)

You stood in the middle of the track with all your girls in your stilettos, not planning on changing, led alone moving from your space. “Look at that boys” Danny smiles, pointing you out from their place on the bleachers. “Y/N?” Putzie asks, taking a break from peeking up girls poodle skirts “No you idiot, Calhoun! Yes, Y/N” He says, standing from his seat to get a better look. “Her body is just-“ Danny takes a breathe as he watched you, his hands moving to trace your form. He took notice of the way your thighs made the leather of your skirt strain a bit as you walked and the way your hips moved from side to side as you made you way down the track.

“If you like her so much, go talk to her” Doody suggests earning a scowl from the taller boy. “Yeah, go do it Zuk” Kenickie kicks in, lighting his cigarette from the corner of the bleachers “Yeah, okay” Danny mutters, moving from his seat to head down to the field where you were standing. He tensed as he neared you and the other Cadillac’s, but he quickly swallowed his nerves.

“Hey Y/N” You hear and you recognize his voice immediately “Danny” You smile, popping you gum once more before taking it from your mouth and tossing it down on the asphalt. “What can I do for ya, Sugar?” You hum, stepping closer to the leather wrapped teen “You wanna go get a malt later?” Danny asks, his confidence faltering for a split second before coming back 10 fold.

“Hmm, I guess we could go out” You smile, going to pull a cigarette from your bag before the boy before you generated one for you, holding it out to you. “Thanks, you’re a real hunk aren’t ya?” You smirk, placing the cancer stick between your lips, letting him light it “I like to think so” He smiles before heading off toward his friends with a goofy grin on his handsome face.

We Make the Kingdom - Pt.2

Image by silverdagger865

Pairing: Yongguk x OC
Genre: Fantasy, with Angst and Smut to come
Summary:  After a vampire attack leaves you almost dead, you are rescued by a group of werelions, powers long thought to be extinct. Upon discovering the same magic flows in your blood, you join their fight against encroaching vampires and another, very human monster, to save the kingdom.
Previous parts1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ,  8, 9(M), 1011, 12, 13

Sunlight is a gift people fail to appreciate. To have your world lit and colored by it. To have it steep sleepy warmth in your skin. To remind you a new day is here for you to live. You will never take any of it for granted again. You survived. You savor the bright scarlet the sun paints your closed eyelids. It banishes the darkness of the night to the recesses of your consciousness. Just a minute longer, you promise yourself.

You roll over. Your fingers that hang over the edge of the bed brush course hair. Idly, you reach deeper to soft fur and scratch. Instead of a dog’s happy yawn, a deep moan of contentment vibrates your entire arm.

Eyes snapping open, you glance over the edge of the bed. A long feline body with a coat of burnt sienna fur stretches longer than the bed, its tail curled around the bedpost. Your hand is still buried in a long black mane. When you hurriedly snatch it back to you, the lion’s head turns up.

Gold eyes look up in a pleasured haze. They question why you stopped. You stay still with wonder and only the slightest twinge of fear. Though the lion appears anything but wild and his eyes hold more than animal intelligence, its power is unquestionable. Muscle twitches just below the fur so it ripples like a field of grass in the wind. His wide, noble head could easily fill your lap. The questioning look in his eyes slowly fades to contemplation as the lion watches you.

When he stands, you sit up and put your back to the wall. His shoulder comes as high as a horse’s, dwarfing you like a child. The lion only gives you one more glance before walking out of the room.

With your feline companion gone, you’re free to devote your curiosity to the room. Unadorned stone makes up the four walls. Three narrow windows let in your sunlight. Aside from the bed you sit in, the only other thing in the room is another blanket spread on the floor.

You frown as you remember wrecking the room. A quick look over your body finds only skin peeking through multiple fresh bandages. As if they were a signal, the aches of unseen bruises and cuts makes themselves known with a vengeance. Still, you welcome them. They are another sign that you are alive. It seems you escaped the fate you dreaded by unknown grace. You sigh in relief.

Looking at the door again, you start to wonder about your rescuers. Keeping your thoughts on them versus what they rescued you from is much more appealing. You slide to the edge to the bed even though your muscles protest. The legs of your pants fall past your feet as they hit the floor first. Your clothes are new as well. Ill-fitting and worn, but comfortable, the pants and loose shirt are obviously meant for a man.

“I wouldn’t recommend trying to stand alone just yet. You’ll probably end up on the floor.” A new man stands in the doorway, not quite in the room. Concern paints a frown on his pleasant face, but he stays cautiously still.

You grab the blanket around you. “Who are you?”

“Youngjae. I don’t know if you remember me from last night.” He points to the bandages. “I did those though and I’d like to check them again, if you don’t mind.”

“You talked to Yongguk through the door, “ you recall after some thought. You let the blanket fall to your lap, which he takes as permission to approach. As he picks up your arm with a finger to your wrist, you inquire, “Who changed my clothes?”

Youngjae blushes and looks away. “That was me as well. I promise I tried not to compromise your modesty as much as possible. I’m sorry we don’t have anything better for you, but we’re not …. accustomed to women here.”

“Oh. Are you a doctor?”

“No, but my mother is a hedgewitch and the closest to a doctor our town has. I didn’t inherit her magic, but she taught me some things before…,” His voice fades off, a melancholic twist coming to his mouth. You decide not to ask further. With a quiet apology, he begins a thorough examination of your body. His hands are light and professional. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got thrown from a horse a hundred times. Trampled by it a few times too.” When his fingers graze your collarbone, pain forces a gasp from your mouth.

“That will take more time to recover from, I’m afraid.” Youngjae reaches into a box by the bed you hadn’t noticed earlier to take out a jar. He lifts the bandage and spreads a cool salve on the inflamed skin. “Vampire venom can’t really hurt us, but it does slow down the healing process. I made this to help-”

You grab his wrist, in no mood to be told stories. The undead, able to turn you into a monster with a single bite, are a myth to scare children on stormy nights. “Vampires? They’re made up. I don’t know what kind of human monsters attacked me, but they weren’t vampires.”

He sighs and gives you a look that strays dangerously close to pity.“I wish you were correct.” Youngjae doesn’t try to free his arm. He only pushes the back of your hand onto your shoulder and pulls it back for you to see.

Yellow salve adds a greasy sheen to your skin, but it can’t hide the two small round marks of deep red. You stare at the blood.

Blood that dripped from two fangs poised above you. Fangs flashing in a wicked smile as if delighting in the futility of your desperate thrashing beneath a hold as strong as stone. Bitter cold biting into your wrists pinned helplessly. A throaty, melodic laugh amid the dark din of screams and cries and pleas. Right before your throat was torn out.

Warm hands grasp your face. “You’re safe. They won’t hurt you again. They can’t anymore. You’re safe.”

Youngjae’s face comes back into focus, but your body still trembles with fear and disgust. Magic is as commonplace to you as the sky above, but demons come to life exist only in the forbidden, untouched realms of black magic. Black magic that was said to have purged from the earth long ago. “Vampires,” you whisper. “They’re real?”

He nods. “As real as you and me, though according to the rest of the world, we shouldn’t either.”

“'We’? What do you mean by ‘we’?”

“I think it’s best to explain with the others present. I’m sure there we will have as many questions for you as you do us. We’ll have to go downstairs for that.” Youngjae replaces the bandage, slips an arm around your back, and puts your arm around his shoulder “Do you think you can stand or do you need me to carry you?”

“I can stand.” You push your body forward and up. Every muscle shrieks to stay still. Gritting your teeth, you straighten your stiff body until you’re standing on your own feet. A sheen of sweat covers your forehead from the effort to stay that way.

“Are you sure you-”

“I’m fine,” you snap. You immediately regret it. Youngjae has only been patient. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. It just hurts a little.”

He can obviously tell you’re lying, but he lets you have your dignity. “Slow steps then. Your body needs time to catch up with the damage, so don’t try to move too quickly.”

Your legs are jelly by the time you reach the door. The sight of the stairs that spiral down beyond your sight almost makes you change your mind on Youngjae’s offer. His presence beside you helps you find the determination to go on. Cautious steps, the carved handholds in the wall, and Youngjae’s steady hand around your waist keep you from tumbling, but barely.

You reach the ground floor, dizzy from the effort, and enter another large, mostly bare room. Multiple mattresses pushed together, topped with a pile of messed blankets and pillows, dominates the room. Tables piled with books and jars stand squished into the room’s far end. Youngjae pauses to let you catch your breath and guides you to yet another door.

Pure honeyed sunlight fills the long, great hall. Tattered tapestries on the high walls whisper of more plentiful times. So too do the long tables and benches turned dark with age that run the length of the hall. At one time, hundreds must have filled those seats with boisterous noise and music.

Now, only muffled murmurs echo and only five seats at the head table are occupied by a group of handsome men. You recognize Yongguk and Daehyun, but the other three are strangers. All five men stand as soon as you shuffle into the room.

“She’s alive!” cheers Daehyun. He gives you a wink.

“Of course she’s alive. Yongguk already told us. Youngjae, how could you let her walk?” One of the men rushes to you, his voice distantly familiar. He places himself under your other arm and easily matches your pace. “You should have called one of us if you needed help carrying her down. I could’ve brought her something myself.”

“Don’t bite my head off, Himchan. She insisted on coming down herself. I’ve learned better than to argue with the fairer sex,” Youngjae quips back. “I always lose.”

“You are right,” Himchan chuckles. “Someone pull out a chair for her. The one at the end of the table.”

The shorter, stockier of the other two you don’t know hurries to follow the directions.

“Thank you,” you say to him.

He smiles slightly and nods his head.

Your entire body sighs at being released from its own weight as your helpers lower you into the chair. Already exhausted, you allow your eyes to shut for moment.

Someone pushes a warm clay mug into your hand. “Drink up. It will help with the pain and speed up your recovery,” Youngjae says.

You take a wary sip, then a healthy gulp when the flavor proves sweet and flowery. Looking at him, you comment, “It’s good.”

“Glad I could surprise you.” He rolls his eyes and sits beside you. “Not all medicine tastes bad, you know.”

“Just most. That’s where I come in.” The man who had helped you is already loading a plate with bread, honey, and eggs. The smell alone has you absolutely ravenous. “You won’t find anything unappetizing on this table. Daehyun can attest to that.”

Your face jerks away from the food. Scrutinizing his face, you suddenly make the connection to his voice. Your gaze turns on guard. “Himchan. You told Daehyun to kill me.”

“But I didn’t. Aren’t you glad?” Daehyun butts in, taking the other seat on your other side.

Himchan has the good grace to look ashamed. Although not before smacking Daehyun on the shoulder. He busies himself with peeling, coring, and slicing an apple for you. “I’m very sorry about that. Forgive and forget, no?”

Your stomach is too demanding for you to hold it against him for long. You nod. As soon as he places the full plate in front of you, you eagerly dig in. The rest of the room’s inhabitants watch you with unflinching intensity. It’s only vaguely disconcerting in the face of your appetite.

Daehyun notices the way your eyes flicker between them. “We should introduce the rest of our band, shouldn’t we? I hope you remember me, the one who rescued you, Daehyun. Yongguk’s the one I brought you to last night. He’s our leader. Boys, give the lady your names?”

The one who got the chair for you inclines his head politely. “Jongup.”

“I’m Junhong.” The tall man looks the youngest of the group, his smile still carrying a boyish charm. “I’m glad you’re still alive. Who’d have thought we’d find another one of us on a vampire raid?”

Another use of 'us.’ Resolute to not have your question dodged again, you force your piece of bread away from your mouth even as your stomach grumbles. “I don’t mean to offend, because I am grateful to you all for saving me, but I don’t understand why everyone is saying 'we’ and 'us.’ I don’t know any of you.”

“It’s true. You don’t.” All eyes look to Yongguk, who’s retaken his seat on a throne-like chair. “But you are one of us, as proven last night beyond a doubt.”

“And what exactly does that entail?”

“You are a were. More specifically, a were-lion.” His eyes are level, mouth untainted by a liar’s calculating smile. “You, just as all of us here, can turn into a lion at will. A lion that is larger, faster, and stronger than any found in the wild. You have heightened senses in both forms and are impervious to magic. Most importantly, you possess an immunity to vampires.”

You keep your mouth shut as you stare back at Yongguk. Your first reaction is to laugh because weres are another fanciful fairy tale. The look on everyone’s face stops you. None of them appear to be joking. But no one has possessed that kind of ability in hundreds if not thousands of years. If anyone did in the first place. If anyone did, it certainly can’t be you.

“Every child is tested for magic when they are 7 years old.” You protest, “I have no magic. Not even a drop. If I did, the royal examiners would have found it, wouldn’t they?”

“I doubt it,” Himchan interjects. “Were-magic appears much later than most. From what we’ve read, weres don’t show signs of their magic until after the age of 13.”

“I’m much older than 13,” you point out. Eyes glancing between the others, you add, “And I’ve never changed into a lion.”

“All of us required an… unpleasant trigger to awaken our powers. Yours did so last night.” Yongguk leans forward, gaze refusing to release yours. “It’s what saved you. Think. You became a lioness.”

You look down at your hands, remembering when you thought paws had taken their place. Your fingers pull aside bandages on your arm despite Youngjae’s squawks. There are two faint piercing marks on your bicep, already almost healed. You look back at Yongguk, equally awed and miffed. “You bit me. Hard.”

“You bit her?” asks Junhong, his mouth slightly agape.

“To spark her were-blood,” Youngjae explains, patting the man’s shoulder. “I proposed that any were-blood she had would respond to an alpha. Thankfully I was right.”

Yongguk spares a small smile towards him before focusing back on you. “I apologize for inflicting more pain on you. I think you will agree it was necessary.”

With a nod, you demonstrate your understanding. You cannot deny your own heart beating. No one receives the bite of a vampire and survives to have such a miracle. The idea of having magic is intoxicating. Goosebumps raise on your arms at the memory of the power, the senses of the lioness. You want to feel that again. “Do you have to bite me again for me to change?”

Yongguk shakes his head, but it’s Himchan who answers. “You have to learn to shift forms. After your first transformation, you can only shift through conscious will or when you are in grave danger. Only the first time hurts.”

“So you all can change forms at will?”

Junhong stands and pushes away from the table with a smirk. “Watch.”

He circles the table. With a flourish, he bows before crouching. He springs up and spins in a blur. His shape changes in the blink of an eye and in front of you stands a lion as large as the one in your room. His fur and mane are lighter, pale butter yellow and caramel brown. Yet his eyes are the same bright gold.

They contain a smug pride as he pads over to your seat. He nudges aside Daehyun to rub his great head against your arm. Sunshine and grass fill your nose as he bumps harder. You try to hide your grimace and give his nose an appreciative scratch, but Youngjae’s sharp eyes miss nothing.

He reaches over you to swat at Junhong’s ear. “Be careful, her wounds are still fresh.”

A second later human Junhong is standing beside you, an apologetic hand hovering over your shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you assure him. “Some parts of me are just more tender than others.”

“You’ll feel more than fine in a few days.” Daehyun pokes his head around Junhong’s arm. “We heal very quickly. Yongguk broke his arm last week and it’s as good as new now.”

“But that doesn’t mean he should be shifting just yet.” Himchan gives Yongguk a well-meaning glare. “I heard Youngjae tell you not to put the strain on your bones for a few more days. I was surprised you listened and didn’t come with us on the patrol, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you couldn’t completely resist.”

“It was necessary to keep her from harming herself or me.” Yongguk sends another smile his friend’s way. “My arm is fine, Himchan.”

“Yeah, our peerless leader will run with us again soon.” Daehyun steals a slice of your apple and smiles.

Yongguk nods, bringing the eager expressions of hunters from your companions.“Very soon. Are you finished eating?”

Himchan answers for you. “No.” He pushes your plate closer. “You’ll need it, trust me.”

Curiosity sated for the moment in the face of hunger, you need little more encouragement. Under watchful eyes, the food and tea disappear as fast as they can be replaced.

When you’re only nibbling at your bread, stomach finally full, Yongguk clears his throat.

“I know this may be unpleasant,” he says, sympathy adding a gentle layer to his deep voice, “but we need to know anything you remember about the attack on your village. This is the furthest south the vampires have ever struck and they have never stayed in one place for more than a night. We need to know why and you may have some answers for us.”

You slowly put the bread down. The urge to spit out what’s in your mouth is hard to resist. Its taste is now like ash and heavy on your tongue. You force yourself to swallow, and lower your hands into your lap. Then to remember. It’s a struggle to pull anything from the murky and battered memory of that night. It seems both long ago and just over.

Your words are halting as you try to string together the fragments of that night. “I don’t remember much… it was too quick… They struck just after dusk. I was outside. I don’t know how many there were, but I didn’t have a chance. There was just screaming and blood. Lots of blood.” The inhuman, cruel laugh rings in your ears and the shadow of an image with red eyes arises from the dark. “And… a woman.”

Yongguk frowns, his thumb starting to rub his chin.“A woman?”

“Yes. She watched.” You shiver. The woman’s face is foggy in your memory, but her horrific aura looms like an impending storm. It slithers through your mind, chilling your soul. “She enjoyed it. Every bit of it. Like it was a show put on just for her pleasure.”

“What did she look like?”

“Like something death itself would fear,” you reply without hesitation. If vampires are evil incarnate, she is their queen. “I don’t remember any details, but she was beautiful, terrible.”

The men share a long look. Their faces darken. In front of your eyes, they change from ordinary young men to men prematurely aged by horrible battles. The fleeing of innocence and easy camaraderie takes the heat the sun had lent you.

“Could they have a new leader?” Daehyun asks quietly. All signs of his earlier teasing nature have vanished beneath a mask of grimness. “We’ve only been dealing with stray loners, groups of three or four at the most. Last night we killed ten.”

“A leader would explain their new methods of attacks,” Youngjae says. “But who is she? Where did she come from? And why or how did she gain that kind of power?”

“We should talk to the wolves, see if they’ve noticed anything,” Junhong suggests. His jaw tightens as he adds, “We need to ask them how so many vampires got past them.”

“They’re spread thin, but I agree. A visit is in order soon.” Yongguk glances over at you. His expression softens and he reaches over to place a hand lightly over yours. “I think you should rest some more. I do have more questions for you, but I think this is enough for today. You can stay in the den from now on. No stairs.”

Although your brain is busy clamoring with all the new information you heard, your body has other ideas. Exhaustion is winding its way back around your mind, slowly trying to lull it to slumber. “Thank you. I think I will.”

“Wait.” Jongup pauses when the other men look at him expectantly. “We still haven’t asked her an important question.”

“And what question is that?” Yongguk asks.

Jongup turns to you. “What’s your name?”

The others’ dumbfounded looks are almost comical enough to make you laugh. Your mirth fades when the answer doesn’t instinctively fall from your tongue. You rack your mind. Your mouth falls open as you heart tosses between panic and bewilderment.

“I don’t know.”

Previous ChapterNext Chapter

Kingdom MapThe Keep MapWeres scale


Intro: Okie dokie here is the entire story from beginning to end.  It is very long.

Pairing: Bones x Reader

Word Count: 9,018 (I warned you)

Triggers: sexual assault attempt, bullying, mild swearing, rude name calling. 

Summary:  Reader is a botanist on the Enterprise who is bullied often and has low self esteem, and happens to run into Bones one day and develops a crush instantly (who wouldn’t, really?).  Reader works with Bones to save Spock from an injury from an away-mission.  The bullying gets worse as the story goes on and eventually leads to an attempt at sexual assault.  Reader gets away and doesn’t know who to turn to (maybe a certain friendly yet grumpy space doctor?).

ALSO: I did split this story up into 4 parts so if you want to read them in smaller chunks just click the link below.  

Read part 1: Backwards p.t. 1

Read part 2: Backwards p.t. 2

Read part 3:  Backwards p.t. 3

Read part 4: Backwards p.t. 4


““It’s so easy, to think about love, to talk about love, to wish for love, But it’s not always easy to recognize love, even when we hold it in our hands.”

 You read the last line of your book and set it down.  Light was beginning to stream in from the hallway and you realized what time it was.   If you fell asleep right now you would have 2 hours before your alarm went off.  You groaned and fell back into the soft pillows on the bed.  Rubbing your eyes you decided it would be easier to get an early start to your day rather than getting half-assed sleep.   

Swinging your legs over the bed you got up, showered, and put your blue Starfleet uniform on.  

You decided to head down to the mess hall to get some breakfast before getting to work.  

Passing the medbay on the way, you decided to go in and ask one of the nurses for a headache-reliever to stop the one forming around your temples.  

All the patient rooms were dark, as the medbay hadn’t been too busy lately save for a bump or bruise here or there.  

The only light on was coming from Dr. McCoy’s office.  Everyone knew the stern, grumpy, intelligent doctor, as he was best friends with the Captain and always seemed to be on the bridge and involved in away-missions.  

The door to his office was open and you peered into the dimly lit room.  Dr. McCoy was asleep at his desk, his head resting on his forearms, and his mouth slightly open, a small spindle of drool dripping onto the desktop.  

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A/N: Firstly, I just want to say thank you for sticking around even though I haven’t been posting at all :’) I’ve been stressing out for my finals and I was also going through some personal matters which meant I couldn’t write this fluffy fic. But I’m back now! Thank you guys so much, once again. ❤

P.S.  I didn’t exactly proofread this so :”)

(WARNING: VERY little cursing)

Originally posted by edawnn

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Tease (Jungkook Smut)

*I tried*

“Babe!” You called out to him. You were in your apartment, your boyfriend and his group occupying your living room for your weekly movie night.

“Yeah?” He walked in, and stifled his laughter. You were trying to grab your favourite snack from the top shelf and he knew you couldn’t reach it.

“You couldn’t climb the counter?”

“You can’t just help me?”

“So much sass for a little girl.”

“Shut up, hmph.”

He grabbed it and you snatched it from him, going back to setting up the food. He leaned his elbow against the counter, watching you try to ignore him until he tried to get your attention.

“Baby, are you actually mad? I love how little you are, it’s cute.”

“Kookie go back. I’ll be out in a minute.” You weren’t upset, you just wanted to finish up. He kissed your head before going back to the, now loud boys. You come out with all the food, filling more of your coffee table.


“Wait until the movie starts, hungry child.”

“But, hyung-”

“Did I stutter?” Suga silenced him and Jin started the movie. Jungkook covered you both with a blanket and you stayed silent, watching the movie attentively. His hand was rubbing against your thigh but you didn’t mind it.

You hear a munch and Tae started eating already. It was only 5 minutes in, and you went back to what was happening on the screen.

Jungkook’s hand reached between your legs, his hands inside your pants already. He played with your panties, making it rub against your clit. You absentmindedly slip out a moan and Jimin looked at you.

He stayed silent but his eyes silently asked you what was going on. You gave him a small smile, trying to convince him it was nothing. He seemed to hesitate before turning back to the movie.

Jungkook, on the other hand , continued to tease you more. He rubbed his cock against your ass, you feeling him get hard.

“J-Jungkook.” You whispered.

“Yes, baby?” His finger started to stroke against your clit and you bit your lip. He kissed behind your ear, while his fingers continued to play with you.

His free hand reached into your shirt, grabbing your breast. He twisted and squeezed your nipple, making you bite down on your lip harder.

“You like knowing they can see you like this?”

“Look at you, enjoying getting teased like this.”

His finger entered your clit and you almost moaned. He kissed you, muffling your moan. Jimin took notice again, only to see you kissing Jungkook and refocusing on the movie.

You pulled away and moved his hand away from you, not wanting to cum like this, especially in the eyes of others that could notice. Jungkook takes your hand and drags you into the bathroom. He propped you up on the counter, spreading your legs.

“J-Jungkook, they’re in the other room. We can’t d-do this.” He kissed your neck, knowing it was your weakness.


“Do you really want me to stop? Your clit is starting to wet the counter.”

“But we can’t,”

“You’re getting turned on by knowing they can hear me fuck you, aren’t you?”

You bit your lip, him continuing to kiss against your neck and you gave it up. His lips trailed down your neck, stopping to removed your shirt and detached underneath your collarbone. His hand unhooked your bra before grabbing your right breast.

His other hand played with your wet clit again, your moans uncontainable. His finger slid into you once again, this time he pumped into you ruthlessly.

“Oh my god, J-Jungkook!”

“Your clit is so tight around my finger, do you want more, baby?”


His fingers multiplied, feeling your clout getting stretched out by his fingers. You leaned back, your hands resting on each side of the sink behind you. He pulled out as your body began to get hot.

“Not until I say so.”

He kissed you, biting and pulling your bottom lip teasingly before he slipped off his pants and boxers.

“Do you want me, baby?”

“Please fuck me, Jungkook. I can’t hold back anymore.”

He rammed into you rapidly, immediately feeling all of him around you. You held onto him, his muscles relaxing to your touch but his pace was vicious.

“Feels so fucking good.”


He watched you, seeing you not denying all the pleasure he was giving you. His hips never rested for a second, wanting to pound every inch inside you.



He pinched against your clit, targeting the little nub that never failed to make you scream out his name. You felt yourself getting closer with every squeeze against your little nub.


You squirt, your juices dripping from the counter. The sudden tightness around him while he thrusted into you made him cum after you and you blushed.

“Can I stay the night?”


“I won’t hear the end of it when I get home. ”

“Just don’t try anything on me.”

“No promises, baby.”

Hogwarts Library // Spencer Reid x Reader

Prompt: Hogwarts AU (feat. mentions of original HP characters)

Requested by: Anonymous

Spencer debated whether to go to the library that afternoon. He had already finished studying for his classes so there was no real reason to go. But his best friend Derek was off in Quidditch practice with the Gryffindor team and he didn’t feel like moping around all day. 

It was chilly outside as winter threatened to be upon them at any moment. It was good reading weather, he decided. So instead of staying locked up in his dormitory he threw on a sweater and his Ravenclaw scarf before making his way to the library for a bit of light reading.

“Do you want to come down to the library and study for our Herbology exam?” You asked JJ as you gathered your things. She shook her head, pointing toward the broomstick that leaned against the wall.

“Can’t. Quidditch practice,” she replied as she tied her hair up. You rolled your eyes at the fact she prioritized the sport over her grades and yet somehow still managed to be a good student. You had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with the fact that she was almost literally a ray of light that all the professors seemed to adore.

“Alright. But I’m not staying up until ungodly hours to help you study again,” you replied with a frown. She chuckled.

“That’s what you always say,” she sang with a smile.

“Yup,” you replied as you left the dormitories, closing the door behind you. “And yet I always do it.”

Your cat scurried along the hallway, weaving in between other students’ feet as she followed you to the library. You tightened your red and gold scarf around your neck in an effort to keep the winter chill at bay. A happy hum filled your throat as you stepped foot into the vast room, it’s roaring fires instantly warming your insides. The fluff of fur departed your side and made her way to a pillow that laid next to the burning fireplace.

You scanned the room looking for an empty seat where you could set up your study station. Most tables were occupied with groups who had also decided to take the afternoon to study. You were about to give up when your eyes caught sight of a familiar brown haired boy in the corner who seemed to have his nose stuck in a book.

“Hey Spencer,” you greeted with a smile as you stood by the table he sat at. He looked up, startled as he heard his name after hours of being lost in his own mind.

“Hey Y/N,” he greeted with a shy smile as he realized you were the one who had spoken to him. You grinned as he set his book down and fidgeted with his blue and bronze scarf.

“Mind if I sit? I have an exam to study for.”

“Oh, no. Go right ahead,” he replied as he moved the pile of books he had set out to make room for you. You smiled as you set your things down, opening your own book and taking out a piece of parchment and a quill to write your notes with.

The both of you sat in comfortable silence, as you almost always did whenever the two of you ended up in the same place. Spencer was a bright Ravenclaw who spent most of his days in the library while you were a friendly Gryffindor who enjoyed spending her afternoons soaking up the sun in the courtyard. The two of you had met when you sat next to each other in Potions that year and had formed a small acquaintance as Spencer seemed too shy to speak most days. You always just assumed he was the type to pay close attention during lectures and didn’t take much offense to the lack of speaking.

“What are you studying for?” Spencer asked after a few minutes. He had been unable to concentrate on his reading the minute you sat down, instead sneaking glances at you the entire time. He thought it was adorable the way you bit your lip as you read, the look of concentration evident on your face. He even startled himself when he spoke, unsure of what had overcome him to do so.

You looked up at him in surprise that he was actually taking initiative to start a conversation but smiled as you met his eyes.

“Herbology,” you replied with a small grin. Spencer nodded, his lack of social skills becoming apparent as he panicked and looked back to his book when he couldn’t think of anything else to say. You sighed softly as you returned to your reading.

“How did you do on your last Potions essay?” Spencer asked after several minutes as he attempted to make conversation once again. It was now or never, he decided. He would find his bravery, his small spark of Gryffindor despite his overwhelming Ravenclaw tendencies, and finally talk to you for more than just a few words.

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer had formed quite the crush on you. He liked that you never pressured him to speak more and that you seemed genuinely impressed when he finally did and it was just random facts about whatever potion you were studying that day. You were kind and patient, and he liked that.

“I could’ve done better. I don’t think Professor Snape likes me very much,” you replied with a frown.

“Yeah well, he doesn’t really like Gryffindors in general,” he replied with a small grin. You nodded in agreement.

“You have a point there, my friend.”

Spencer smiled and opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted as a group of second year Slytherins passed by that he instantly recognized. They were the same kids who had heard him confess his crush on you to his friend Penelope, a sweet Hufflepuff who almost everyone cared for. They pointed at the two of you, making kissing noises as they mocked Spencer and leaving you confused as to what exactly was happening. He immediately turned red and hung his head in embarrassment.

“Hey!” A strong female voice called out. “What do you think you’re doing? Are you that bloody stupid?”

You grinned as Emily appeared behind the group of kids, their faces whitening as they realized who stood behind them.

“We’re sorry, Emily,” one of them stuttered as he attempted to win the slytherin princess’s approval again. “Please don’t tell Draco.” She narrowed her eyes at the group.

“You leave Y/N alone. And that means anyone she associates with too. Got it?”

The group of kids nodded furiously with wide eyes before racing off, desperate to get away from the older girl’s wrath. Emily rolled her eyes at their childishness before taking a seat next to you.

“Hey Em,” you greeted your childhood friend with a smile. She grinned as she stretched back into the chair.

“Hey Y/N. And…” She trailed off as she looked at Spencer questioningly.  He blushed, flustered after what just happened.

“Spencer,” he introduced himself with a small nod. She smiled at the boy.

“Yeah, I think you’re in my divination class. You’re the kid who knows all the answers,” she replied with a laugh. Spencer looked down at his book in embarrassment. “Hey, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. Maybe I should be smart like Y/N and make friends with you so you could help me out with the O.W.L.S.”

“Emily Prentiss, did you come to steal my study partner?” You teased as you playfully slapped her arm. She gave a dramatic gasp before throwing her arm around you with a laugh. Spencer smiled at the small exchange, wondering how a Slytherin and a Gryffindor could possibly be so close.

“No actually. I came to see if you were available Friday night,” she replied with a mischievous smile. You instantly threw your guard up, knowing how her ideas tended to end.

“For what?” You asked warily.

“A date. With the Weasley boys. George invited me out and I said I’d find the perfect girl for Fred,” she replied with a grin. Spencer frowned as he attempted to bury himself back into his books in an effort to seem disinterested in their conversation. He was finally getting his nerve up to form a friendship with you in hopes of it leading to more but he had forgotten that other boys found you pretty as well.

Of course other boys found you attractive. You might as well have been an angel the way you seemed to just float through the corridors with a gentle smile on your face. Spencer shook his head at his naivety.

“Those jokesters? No thanks,” you laughed with a shake of your head.

“What? Why not? Are you already dating someone?” She asked in disbelief. You had never said no to double dating with her before even if it never led to an actual relationship. You smiled as you looked at Spencer, meeting his eyes for a moment with a gleam of amusement.

“No,” you replied with a smile. Emily looked between the both of you and realized what she was seeing. This was the boy she had caught you daydreaming about during your Charms class.

Spencer let out a sigh of relief when you had admitted that you weren’t dating anyone. He had momentarily thought that he was too late, that his chance with you was over before it had begun. Emily smirked as she caught the small sigh, looking at the two of you suggestively.

“Alright. I’ll just ask JJ then,” she replied as she bounced out of the room with a grin. You rolled your eyes at her energy and returned to your work.

Spencer’s fingers drummed nervously against the table as he pondered over what to do next. Should he tell you he liked you? No. That would be too straightforward. Maybe he could offer you help for your upcoming Potions exam. No, no. You would only see him as a tutor then.

“Something wrong?” You asked as you looked up at him. His hand had been drumming against the table for minutes now and his face was portraying some emotion that was a mix of concern and confusion.

“I’m fine,” Spencer assured as he clapped his hands together and rested them on his lap. “Actually, I was uh- I was wondering if maybe you would want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

You raised an eyebrow in surprise but smiled brightly. He felt a sense of relief wash over him as he noticed your positive attitude. He had expected immediate rejection.

“Sure. I could go for a butterbeer,” you replied with a grin.

“Okay. Butterbeer. Yes. Good,” he replied with a small smile as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. You smiled encouragingly and turned back to your work after the millionth distraction that day. Spencer grinned as he picked up his own book, stealing glances of you for the next hours as you sat across from him in your ethereal glory.

Today hadn’t been a bad day for the library after all.


More spotlight on Robert Blackman. The left column of pictures is from Deep Space 9’s “Far Beyond the Stars.” The right is from Voyager’s two-parter “The Killing Game.” The DS9 episode is set in 1950s Harlem, while the Voyager episode is set in Nazi-occupied France.

These two groups of costumes were produced at the same time. During his tenure, Star Trek never rented costumes for episodes with alternate settings, as Blackman felt those costumes were too threadbare for use on the show. So these costumes were made, including ones for probably a hundred extras between the two shows, in the space of a week.

It’s hard to think of a better example of the thoroughness of Blackman’s work.

The collage for ‘Believe in Me, Believe in You’.

The fic isn’t anywhere near finished yet, but here’s a snippet.

“Bloody took you long enough.” Zayn smirks when Niall takes his seat at the table their group is occupying.

“Shut up and give me my god-daughter.” Niall scoffs, making grabby hands at the squirming baby in Zayn’s arms. “Come here, Li-Li.”

“Not until you stop calling her that.” Zayn says sternly.

“Fine.” Niall huffs. “Come here, Alia. Your daddy is so grumpy before he gets his coffee.”

“I’ve had two cups while we were all waiting for you two to finish going at it like bunnies.” Zayn snorts, handing Alia off.

“Bunnies don’t use their mouths.” Harry chuckles, plopping down next to Niall with a plate full of food for them to share.

“Therapy!” Oliver hisses from across the table. “Lots of therapy!”

“Oh hush it.” Harry waves him off. “You’re almost seventeen. That’s old enough to know that adults sometimes have sex.”

“What’s sex?” Noah asks, looking up from his Mickey Mouse pancakes for the first time since Niall arrived.

“Carpet.” Harry snorts.

“Shut up.” Niall sighs. “It’s grownup playtime, bubba. Don’t worry about it.”

“What’s the thing about the carpet?” Liam asks, blinking at Niall with sleepy eyes. He must have been the one to wake up for Alia’s feeding this morning. He doesn’t look like he regrets it though. Niall’s never seen him happier than he’s been in the six months since Alia was born. Zayn either.

“Me fixing one of Harry’s little outbursts.” Niall sighs, looking down at where Alia is trying to eat one of her own hands. “They’re so much easier at this age. They haven’t learned to talk yet, which means they can’t repeat the naughty words their fathers say.”

“Like ‘fuck’?” Noah asks, making Harry choke on his bagel.

anonymous asked:

Casket - 40 please!

#40 - “I believe you dropped this.”

His usual table on the upper level of Housing Works, a quaint bookstore cafe, is taken, occupied by a group of teenagers paying more attention to their cell phones than their cold coffee or the lines of bookshelves open to them. Instead, he sits at one of the tables downstairs. It gives him some new scenery and a vantage point of the door he doesn’t normally get. It’s because of this newfound location he tends to look up each time the bell chimes, and he notices when a woman walks in, a toddler propped on her hip.

She’s… well, stunning—long legs adorned in black skinny jeans, with a cream sweater and a beanie to match, covering long, flowing chestnut curls. He can’t make out many of her features from his seat, not from this angle, but she’s gorgeous too. He can tell. The boy on her hip bounces impatiently, a broad smile on his little face.

He watches on as she brushes shaggy hair away from his forehead and places a kiss to his temple, the motion so natural it’s almost as if she does it hourly. The boy’s right arm wraps around her shoulders, a small Buzz Lightyear toy gripped in his fingers.

When he makes eye contact with the toddler, he smiles, gives a small wave. The child looks at him questioningly for a few seconds, intense eyes just blinking, then he decides to smile back.

The kid seems to be a little charmer. He’s sure his mother must be equally as enchanting.

Trying in earnest to avoid staring creepily at this woman and her son, he looks down at his notebook, at the pen that sits still at his fingertips. The page is nearly empty, filled only with a few jottings and a doodle or two.

The woman orders her drinks and moves out of line, waits off to the side for her name to be called. He takes those few minutes to guess her name.

Emily? Amanda? Olivia? Maybe something more… creative. Modelesque, maybe. Coco? Chanel? Genevieve?

He almost laughs at himself. She may look like a model, but he doubts she’s the Coco type.


It’s the name called when she retrieves her coffee, and he smiles to himself. Somehow, he finds it fitting. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Much better than his guesses. 

Just as he’s about to go back to his non-writing, he watches her collide briefly with a man, causing the toddler to drop his toy. She doesn’t seem to notice, too busy exchanging apologies with the guy and making sure coffee hasn’t spilled all over, but he sees little arms reaching unsuccessfully towards the ground as she continues moving.

“Momma,” he hears, but he’s already out of his seat.

Picking up the toy, he jogs after the woman. “Excuse me,” he says, catching her just as she’s making her way towards the door. “I believe you dropped this.”

She eyes the toy in his extended hand and trails her gaze back to him. “Oh, thank you,” she breathes, plucking it from his palm. She turns to face her son. “Here you go, baby. Remember you have to hold onto it real tight or you’ll lose it, okay?”

“The bump!” the boy says. “Dropped it.”

A smile blooms across her face as she chuckles. “I’m sorry,” she tells him, handing over Buzz. “And what do you say to this nice man who brought it back?”

“Thank you!” the boy yells excitedly, giving him a toothy smile.

“It’s my pleasure, bud,” he says, returning the boy’s eager smile. “I couldn’t let you go without Buzz, now, could I?”

He shakes his head aggressively, light brown hair covering his face now. Small giggles erupt, and his mother laughs, brushes the hair away once again with her forearm and bounces him in place.

She’s more beautiful close up, he realizes. Her eyes—there’s something about them, so expressive yet guarded, but exquisite all the same. Her little boy shares them, though his seem to be more green than hazel. The hunter green jacket he wears brings them out even more.

“Thank you again…”

“Rick,” he supplies, offering a hand before pulling it back. “Right, coffee. Sorry.”

Smiling, she shakes her head. “No need.” A pause. “Kate.”

He doesn’t tell her he already knows her name, heard when the barista called it, because that’d be weird. So he nods instead.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Gust!” the toddler says, wriggling in his mother’s grip as he looks at him. “Hi!”

Rick’s confused but grins at the excitement anyway. “Hi,” he laughs, then looks to Kate for help.

“August,” she tells him, but that doesn’t really give much more information. August? It’s February. She turns to her son. “Yeah, baby, August.” The boy seems pleased with himself, and Kate looks back at Rick. “His name. It’s August.”

Oh. “It’s cute.”

“But only when you’re in trouble, right, kid?” she teases, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. He’s wholly disinterested, paying more attention now to Buzz. “You’re just Auggie, little man.”

Rick feels a bit like he’s intruding, observing this interaction between mother and son, watching how lovingly she looks at the little boy perched contently on her hip. But it’s beautiful, really, and he can’t look away.

“He’s adorable,” he says, earning a proud smile from her.

“Thank you,” she says, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Well, we should get going.” He squashes the ridiculous pang of sadness that bubbles. He doesn’t even know her. But he knows he likes her, finds her intriguing. “Maybe we'll—”

“Momma, draw!”

Auggie seems to have lost interest in Buzz for the moment, the toy held in one tiny fist, and is now pointing towards the notebook in Rick’s hand. He’d forgotten he was even holding it, if he’s being honest.

“That’s not yours, baby,” she says quietly. “That’s Rick’s. We can draw when we get home, okay?”

“I wan’ draw now,” he says, looking up at her with large, blinking eyes. How she says no to that face, he can’t even begin to figure out. “Pwease.”

Kate sighs. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. He’s polite, you have to give him that,” he smiles. Auggie’s pouting in his mother’s arms, and Rick speaks before thinking twice. “If you don’t have to be anywhere right away, he’s more than welcome to draw.”

The boy brightens, and Kate’s eyes widen. “Oh, no, that’s okay. You were working in that notebook, and we should be going.”

“I was procrastinating and doodling more than I was working, but—wait, were you were watching me?”

“Of course not.” The flame of her cheeks contradicts her statement. “I was taking in my surroundings.”

He grins, wider even when she ducks her head, pulling one lip between her teeth. “Okay,” he laughs. “If it makes you feel any better, I was taking in my surroundings as well.”

Kate hums. “Which would explain how you knew he dropped his toy.”

“So it may,” he says. “Really, though. I haven’t gotten any actual work done and it’s been hours—Auggie using my pad to draw for a little bit would not be hindering any progress, I promise.”

Pointing to the pen in Rick’s hand and then to himself, Auggie bats his eyelashes at his mother. “Draw now?”

Kate lets her eyes fall closed for a second, chest heaving with a small sigh, and when they open she offers a small smile for her son. “If Rick is really sure—” She punctuates her statement with a glance in his direction, eyes making contact with his. “—then we can stay for a little while. Not too long, okay? You need a nap.”

That gets a fast head shake, a wriggle as he tries to free himself from her grip. “No nap.”

“Yes nap,” she says, allowing him to get down but bending to his level. “No nap, no draw. Capisce?”

His little lips frown but he nods. “‘Pisce!”

“Okay then.” Kate stands, still holding onto Auggie’s hand. “Let’s follow Rick to the table.”

With Auggie trailing beside her, she taps Rick on the shoulder just before they reach the table with the rest of his belongings.

“You really don’t have to do this,” she whispers. “He’ll be fine waiting to draw at home.”

Rick pulls out the chair in lieu of an immediate response, and waits for her to sit down, pulling her son onto her lap. He takes his spot across from them and opens his notebook to a blank page before sliding it over, followed by the pen.

“I know,” he promises, watching as Auggie grabs at the pen and hastily begins his drawing. “But I want to.”

He doesn’t know if the delicate smile on her face is for her son or for him, but he’s delighted to see it either way.

The New World Order - A Quick Summary

What is the New World Order and how does it work? To understand we have to realize that our politicians have no real power when it comes to governing our countries.

I want to point out that not all politicians are corrupted. But those who are, often holds the most important positions of power in the different power structuers. Not all politicians are corrupt out of desire for more power, some play along simply because what would happened to them and their families if they did'nt. Others do it out of stupidity, greed or ignorence.

Behind all these so called democratically chosen governments, there are intelligence agencies (Security States) and shadow governments (Deep States) who is in control behind the curtains. They choose the leaders and presidents of the different countries and if they dont play along they will most probably be assassinated (JFK 1962).

Hidden from the public in these shadow governments are the super rich and influencial people. Leaders of the biggest governments, banking, businesses, media, science, military industry etc. In different closed forums without the knowledge of the general public, they meet and set the agenda for the world. Some of these forums are Committee of 300, Trilateral Commission, Council of Foreign Relations (CFR), Bilderberg Group, Club of Rome and many others. Why people won’t hear about this in the media is because they are owned by the same people sitting in these closed societies.

They decide when to start a war, who is governing what area, which countries to infiltrate, which currency and economic system to be used, when to start and stop an economic collapse, immigration, health care, media, education, enviromental issues and many other topics regarding which way the specific region or countrey should take according to the agenda.

These people of extraordinary wealth and power are doing this for one purpose, world governance (New World Order). Total control over earths population and resources. To reach that goal, they use ways of manipulation through economy, surveillience, terror, polarisation, fear, corruption, war, blackmailing, social engineering and many other tools.

Problem - Reaction - Solution

To get people to voluntarily accept the control system (so they don’t rise up against it) they have to voluntarily give away their freedoms and rights. To do so the elite or NWO use the means of problem - reaction - solution. Which means that you are creating a problem such as a virus or a terrorist attack. You push through the media how dangerous this virus is or how horrible the attack from the terrorist group was, but at same time you also push for the desired solution such as a vaccine or more surveillance. Once the public are afraid and confused, they will accept anything said to them with the promise of protection from the imaginary/manufactured enemy. Those who still question the reality of the threat will be ridiculed and pushed away


Polarisation is one of the most affective tools, because it takes the focus off the desicion makers. As long as people are afraid and angry at each other, they won’t see what’s happening behind the scenes. Often are the two (or more) sides fighting being manipulated from within by the same source, creating conflicts to keep the groups occupied.

Nationalism vs multiculturalism, communism vs capitalism, christianity vs islam vs atheism, sports teams. All these different groupations has been created to polarise and manipulate the public. They are different sides of the same coin with the same outcome, which is creating a small group of powerful people with more resources and influence then the rest of us.

Financing Terror

To implement the different agendas, they use different intelligence agencies such as SIS, MI6, CIA, Mossad, NATO and other less known organizations. All these organizations are controlled from the same source with all the information the agencies have gathered for them.

They also create and finance the so called “terror”-organisations such as ISIS, Al-Qaeda, Al-Nusra, the Muslim brotherhood and the mafia but also illegal activities such as drug smuggling, trafficking and coups to overthrow governments. They are also responsible for selling arms to these terrorist groups.

It’s important to note that it’s just a very small group of people who has access to all the information, but they are also the ones in charge. The people around them are just tools which to implement the agenda for world dominance, and they are given just enough information to do the dirty work but not enough to see the whole picture. What we need to do is to inform ourselves that this is happening to us, and stop playing along with it. Don’t vote for these people, don’t listen when they tell you what to do, don’t buy their products. Do your research and create ways to move around outside the system of control. We all have a choice, let’s not allow them to make them for us.

anonymous asked:

It feels weird that you obsess over Nordic mythology amd Vikings when you aren't even Nordic...

Oof have I got news for you!

As I’ve mentioned before, the Vikings had an extensive series of routes for trading throughout the world, traversing the seas to reach Europe, the Americas, the Indies, Africa, Russia, and nearly every place you can possibly imagine. They had, if you will, an empire built on trade since the desire to raid for and trade goods fueled much of their motivation to explore and discover new places. 


One group well-known for venturing to Europe and Africa for trade was the Varangian Guard. These Vikings were fearless to intermingle with people of foreign lands.

“There was a man hight Thorvard; he married Freydis, a natural daughter of Erik the Red; he went [219] also with them, and Thorvald the son of Erik (100), and THORHALL who was called the hunter; he had long been with Erik, and served him as huntsman in summer and steward in winter; he was a large man, and strong, BLACK AND LIKE A GIANT, silent and foul-mouthed in his speech, and always egged on Erik to the worst” See SAGA OF THORFINN KARLSEFNI.


This here is a quote from an unnamed author who explains Erik the Red’s grandson and his creation. It shows his daughter, Freydis, gave birth to a child of African heritage.

Another example of Vikings of various cultures is the Slavic people.

Early on in the ninth century, a group of Swedish Vikings, otherwise known as the Rus, entered the area today known as Russia. At the time the area was largely occupied by several groups of disorganized Slavic tribes… 
There has been much debate as to the exact origin of the Rus. It has been argued that the Rus were Slavic to begin with, but archeological evidence has shown that Rus are clearly Swedish in descent. What baffles many historians is the fact that by the eleventh century the Rus had become Slavic. The Rus who had entered the region had in less than 200 hundred years lost their “Swedishness” and become Slavic, which is typical of Viking behavior in other areas they conquered. The question still remains, however, were the Rus Slavic by nature, or were they Scandinavian who quickly assimilated with the Slavic culture?

[X] <–Beware of Epilepsy warning on this site

The Slavic people came to be due to the Vikings and their influence in the land. Though not born in the area of Scandinavia, they are still of Scandinavian descent and simply considered to be a different culture.

One final example is the Vikings of Galicia. During the 9th and 10th centuries, Vikings invaded Spain, and much evidence displays the influence left behind by the actions taken.

Written chronicles do state that some of the Vikings stayed behind, and were offered the chance to integrate into society. In addition, says Irene, there is an identity within the current population of the region, that is not Celtic and not Spanish, but Viking, and some locals believe that is why there are far more people with ginger hair and blue eyes here than in other parts of Spain.


This article also summarizes the 4 waves of invasions in Spain 

The Vikings impacted many areas throughout the world, not solely the regions of Scandinavia. Due to this, not all Vikings were purely Scandinavian, but rather, they were made within numerous cultures throughout.

And considering I myself am entirely European, and considering the above evidence, who is to say I don’t have Scandinavian blood within myself?

richie in the bathroom at a party (mike/richie)

summary: mike invites the losers to a homecoming party, but richie is the only one who can go. it leads to some interesting things.

words: 1900

warnings: underage drinking, drugs, emetophobia

( read on ao3 )

Junior year was busy.

Or at least, that’s what Richie had been told, but he hadn’t really listened. And now he was up to his ass in work, and so were all his friends. Never ending assignments piled up, and it didn’t help that he was taking AP classes either.

Part of him liked being busy. It gave his mind less room to wander, and an excuse to keep him out of the house and away from his parents. But focusing had never been his strong suit, which made all that work even harder to get through.

Being president of the gay-straight alliance wasn’t much work, as they about one bake sale a year, and, if they were lucky, a field trip, but otherwise, there wasn’t much to organize, which he was grateful for, but it was still just one more responsibility on top of school and his shitty job at a music store in the mall.

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