How come reading tea leaves is seen as this sophisticated, witchy thing but if I slam dunk an open can of Chef Boyardee ravioli onto the pavement in the gas station parking lot to see what kind of soda the old ones think I should buy, foodstuff divination suddenly isn’t cool anymore?

the signs as i know them

aries: being able to tell someone anything, stolen library books, braiding someone else’s hair, singing really loudly (and off tune), half deserted bowling alleys, trips to ihop in the night, following a back alley, doing something without thinking, finding that “morality, in all forms, is completely irrelevant”, the colors purple, red, and yellow

taurus: sarcasm, a hearty laugh, runs to walgreens early in the morning or late at night, laughing and crying at the same time, “who cares?????”, missing someone but unable to admit it, just messing with you to watch you get annoyed, wanting to get high 24/7, bicurious as fuck, the colors dark brown, light blue, and beige

gemini: passive aggressive comments, big sweaters, laying in the ground with someone you love, staring at the ceiling and laughing, a 90s gym floor, going for runs together, leggings and boots, dancing in a skirt, running around the house with a blanket when its cold outside, playing with matches, the colors white, red, and blue

cancer: missing someone who doesn’t miss you, string lights, getting cozy in a tent camping outside, laughing until your sides hurt, sunglasses inside because they’re just that cool, the absence of the ability to distinguish between platonic and romantic relationships, long hugs, hot tea, the colors grey, light blue, and deep purple

leo: freaking out over new music, knowing all the words to that one bon jovi song, shaving some hair off just for the hell of it, going to protests and marches, excited shouting, feeling like you’ve known someone your entire life, wanting to help the world, the colors red, orange, and green

virgo: studying witchcraft, the ability to sense bad vibes, dying your hair, the feeling of traveling far away from home, wanting more out of life, the feeling of knowing your friends are always going to be there for you, warm red lipstick, being gay to the max, california, vinyl records, warm tea, polaroids, the colors pink, black, and white

libra: quick kisses, wearing his football jacket, laughing, painting your walls, saturday afternoons, believing in ghosts and spirits, dark theaters, loving with your whole heart and nothing else, seven minutes in heaven, missing school to go to a concert, the colors tan, dark green, and grey

scorpio: picking up cats, staying up way too late, the moon, trying to be mysterious but laughing the whole way through, realizing you care about someone so much more than you care about yourself, dark eyes that you can barely see into unless light shines on them, the colors black, purple, and black

sagittarius: slow dancing with a friend in a hazy room, knowing all the words at a concert, regretting something you can’t fix, extravagant gift giving, nostalgia and forgiveness, pastel pink roses on a doorstep, old scraps of paper you should’ve thrown away but kept, wanting to trust someone, the colors pastel yellow, blue, and dark purple

capricorn: flowers kept in old soda bottles, string lights, stealing clothes from your best friend, giving away paintings as gifts, the literal physical embodiment of aesthetic, trips to an art museum, throwing kindness like confetti, the colors off white, green, and purple

aquarius: looking at the stars, 110% believing in aliens, humming to fall asleep to, long car trips, feeling someones heartbeat and falling at ease, late night gas stations, disney world, roller coasters, being away from someone and wondering if they’re thinking of you, winged eyeliner, healing over bad times, the colors blue, pastel yellow, and black

pisces: climbing out onto your roof, childhood friendships, lost time, camping in a trailer, lucid dreaming eternities in the present course, waking up after a nightmare, staring at the moon, testing the boundaries of the human condition, golden retrievers, the colors light purple, light yellow, and light pink

First Kiss- Warren x Reader

Request//anon: Xmen prequel imagine where reader is in the friend group with Scott, jean and etc and one night they’re hanging out and talking about things and they start talking about first kisses and reader quickly makes up an excuse to leave the room because she hasn’t kissed anyone before and no one knows except warren, so warren follows her out of the room and they kiss and are all cute??? 

Originally posted by fiddlesticksimagines

“Okay, but first kisses,” Jean says laughing while reaching for another slice of pizza. 

“What about them?” Scott arched an eyebrow under his glasses. 

“Ya know, when, where, who,” she drags out the last one, smirking, 

“the juicy stuff,” Jubilee adds, with a bubbly laugh.

You, Jean, Scott, Kurt, Jubilee, and Warren, were all seated in the very back of the X mansion library, up way past curfew, slowly working your way through two x-large pizzas, and just about every topic of conversation. It was nights like this you lived for, when things seemed perfectly normal, when you could of been mistaken as regular students, not mutants having to cope with the stress of a mission or assignment. 

“I’ll go first, then we can go around the rest of the circle and everyone can say,” Jean smiled. You shifted uncomfortably at the sudden change of topics, fiddling with the worn out lace on your shoe. Your gaze was directed at the floor so you didn’t notice Warren watching you carefully. The truth was you hadn’t had your first kiss yet. It wasn’t a huge deal, but you were still a tad embarrassed. You wanted it to happen, it just hadn’t yet, and not with the right person. 

“Hey I’ll go grab us some more pop,” you suddenly said, pushing yourself off the floor to stand.

“Alright thanks,” Scott grinned without a second thought, as Jean dove into her story. You turned on your heel and made your way the the kitchen, exhaling a long breath of relief, since you got out just before letting everyone know you’d never been kissed.

You opened the stainless steel fridge once you arrived in the kitchen, fishing a few old cans of soda out of the back. You then hopped on the counter, cracking open a can for yourself, deciding you should wait a bit before reentering the library, just to make sure they had changed topics.

You were sipping on your drink and absentmindedly swinging your feet against the cupboards when a sudden voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Hey,” you looked up to see Warren.

“Hi,” you smiled “why aren’t you back in there dishing out some great stories?”

“Just needed to stretch my legs,” he shrugged, walking over to you. 

“So what’s your great first kiss story?” You asked with a laugh.

“Nothing great,” he reached for a can of soda resting by you, “just a girl I used to know.” You nodded at his words unsure how to respond. He was the only one of all your friends who knew you hadn’t had your first kiss yet. You’d let it slip to him a long time ago while talking. He was super cool about it, not teasing you in the slightest. He took a drink before setting the can down again. “You know this topics gonna come up again, it’s just a matter of time,” he faced you.

“I know,” you groaned in reply, shaking your head, “don’t remind me, it’s so embarrassing.” 

“Hey no,” he corrected you, “it’s totally cool, but if you do want a story, ya know, well…” his voice trailed off and you could see a touch a redness creeping onto his cheeks. You suddenly caught onto his words, and bit your lip, holding back a smile. You hopped off the counter, facing him. He smiled brightly, reaching up the push back a piece of your hair, and began leaning in,

“okay wait-” you stopped him.

“What’s wrong, are you okay?” he looked honestly concerned.

“Ya it’s just, well, what if I’m a shitty kisser?” You shuffled your feet.

“(Y/N),” he laughed, “I can promise you won’t be.”

“Okay, okay,” you chewed your lip for a moment nervously, then quickly leaned into Warren, your lips touching his. He kissed you back instantly, wrapping his hands around your waist, gently pulling you closer. It seemed to last forever, but was honestly just a few seconds before you broke apart. 

“Wow,” he said, taken back.

“What? was it bad? I knew it-”

“No,” he stopped you, “it was good, really good,” he gave your hand, which you didn’t even realize he was holding, a light squeeze. You felt your cheeks grow warm. 

“S-should we rejoin the party?” You finally said, it still felt like your heart was racing.

“In a minuet, it’s nice out here too,” he replied, smiling. You had to agree with that. A story, great pizza, decent soda, and a first kiss, it was nights like this you lived for, the normal ones, the simple ones. 


A small, quickly-written, un-beta’d little thing for @leiascully‘s ‘Lists’ challenge. From an idea/prompt born in the rewatch chat a few weeks ago by the lovely @defnotmeyo <3 

1993. She hates his scruff. She’s angry that he can get away with looking like he’s just rolled out of bed at work, when she has to look utterly professional at all times, not one hair out of place, for anyone to even look her in the eye when she’s speaking.

She hates it, because it reminds her of their first case, of falling asleep in his motel room after talking through the night, of how she walked in on him shaving in the bathroom in nothing but a towel the next morning. She couldn’t get the image out of her head for weeks.

She hates it, because he looks better wolfing down diner food after a night in the drunk tank than Ethan does in a three-piece suit.

1994. She hates his scruff. It’s a sure sign that he’s worn out, tired, that he’s stayed at the office all night poring over old casefiles. Trying to find someone to blame for her abduction. Trying to make someone pay. She loves his passion, admires his dedication, but wonders what he’d be like if he’d just give himself some time off now and then.

She hates his scruff, because it reminds her of their time in quarantine after Mount Avalon - about how, near the end, he’d curled up behind her in her bed and recited Hamlet from memory to pass the time. He’d leaned forward, whispered into her ear - “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy” - and the way his stubble dragged along her neck made her gush in her hospital-issue panties.

1996. She hates his scruff. Hates how it darkens his face after hard cases, after Robert Patrick Modell and John Lee Roche, after Russian gulags and confessions of everlasting love from a stranger who claims their souls are tied together. You delusional bitch, get away from him, she’d thought then, but now she’s trying not to let herself think ill of the dead.

She hates his scruff when he keeps a broken all-night vigil at her hospital bedside, his cheeks stained and rough, his eyes red and tired. It reminds her that he’s not going to just let her die peacefully, that he’ll fight for her, that it’s a gift and a curse to be loved by him - yes, she knows for sure now that he loves her. But it’s complicated. 

2000. She loves his scruff. She loves the sandpapery drag of it against her breasts, between her legs. She loves the sight of him shirtless, in jeans, attempting scrambled eggs in her kitchen, looking roguish and rakish with a second-day beard. She loves that he lets it go a little on the weekends - it helps her separate Mulder, her lover, from Mulder, her partner. 

2001. She misses his scruff. He’s dead, and she’s pregnant with his child. There’s no softer way to say it. It’s obscenely poetic, almost gratuitous, like something out of a tragic old Irish folk song her grandfather might sing. She has a feeling that the baby is a boy - and wonders if he’ll have his father’s thick, tenacious beard when he’s an adult. If he’ll have red hair or brown. If he’ll have blue eyes or hazel.

2003. She loves his scruff. She loves this version of him - the laugh lines around his eyes, the barely-noticeable chip in his left lateral incisor, the five or six grey hairs in his beard when he lets it go for a few days. He wears the ravages of life well. One night, he makes savage love to her under a sky full of stars, scraping her skin raw with teeth and nails and stubble. And although they’re running, although they’re grieving, the searing pain of it makes her feel clean and free and new.

2011. She hates his scruff. Sometimes he doesn’t shave or shower for days, just sits slack-jawed and pale in front of the computer screen, thinning, fading, silent, shadowy. She tries to encourage hobbies, buys him countless books, comes home with fishing rods and heirloom seeds and power tools, but he just ignores her. She feels like an unwelcome visitor in her own home.

2025. She loves his scruff. It’s completely grey now, because he’s 64, and she loves that number - never in her wildest dreams did she think he’d see it. It’s been nine years since William came back into their lives, and she was right - he’s got the same rough-hewn face that his father does, cheeks that are dark by four in the afternoon.

He comes over for dinner now and then, when he’s not away at university. One night, after a particularly masterful pork roast, she leans on the porch railing and watches her husband and her son in profile, shooting rifles into old soda cans, whooping like wolves. Her wild men. They both need a shave. They both remind her of 1993.

Kobra Kid's favorite stims

• he likes to cross his arms really tight. the pressure is Good, especially on the inside of his elbows

• he loves the cronch. sand under his boots, crushing old soda cans, anything that crunches. he especially loves anything he can crunch with his teeth, like potato chips

• he loves the way the letter “s” sounds and feels and holds it out a little when he talks. this is why Poison affectionately called him “cobra” as a kid, which Kobra thought was super cool and later used as his name

add more if you want, even of other characters!


{synopsis} a friendly competition leads to something much more interesting

{warnings} oral sex (mr), dirty talk, praise!kink, cum facial

{pairing} sodapop x fem!reader

{word count} 854

{requested by} @amayathatsme

   Sodapop Curtis was never one to get flustered. He was always the one to do the flustering. But today, as he sat on his ass in his girlfriend’s room, sweating, begging, moaning, and shirtless, he was officially the flustered. To say the least. His visit had started out as something innocent; dinner and a movie even. Then, his girl started teasing him. Soda didn’t like being teased, especially by a girl, so he teased her back. One thing led to another, and they had gotten into a dirty talking competition. They sat across from each other, grinning like a couple of five year olds. Soda went first, doing his best not to just crawl over and make his very vivid fantasy come true. He told her how much he wanted her to ride him. See her beautiful body bounce up and down on his, her soaking wet pussy swallowing his cock deeper and deeper and deeper until she was screaming her release and he was filling her with his hot cum.

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Signs as Glass Animals Songs (New and Old)
  • Aries: Pork Soda, Golden Antlers
  • Taurus: Cocoa Hooves, Mama's Gun
  • Gemini: [Premade Sandwiches], Walla Walla
  • Cancer: Pools, Cane Shuga
  • Leo: Life Itself, Agnes
  • Virgo: Youth, Gooey
  • Libra: Intruxx, Wyrd
  • Scorpio: Take a Slice, Black Mambo
  • Sagittarius: Exxus, Flip
  • Capricorn: S2E3, The Other Side of Paradise
  • Aquarius: Hazey, Poplar Street
  • Pisces: Love Lockdown (Cover), JDNT

Not all art deco. However vintage and cool none the less. I have always been fascinated and loved old school ice cream shop, drug store soda shops/malt shops. Here are some really great images. I myself make ice cream, and if I had enough money I’d like to open my very own ice cream/soda/shake shop, all done in art deco style. Anyways, hope some of you all like these old school soda shop/malt shop photos.

Requested- Sodapop Imagine

Requested by anonymous

Can you do an image for the outsiders where the reader has to go to the doctor but Sodapop has to force her there because she hates doctors and keeps trying to run and hide whenever he turns his back?

“(Y/N)? Babe? Where are you?” Sodapop called out. You were hiding behind his bedroom door, trying to avoid going to your doctor’s appointment. You heard his soft footsteps echo down the hallway and his calls for you grew louder. He stepped in the room and pulled the door closed. He peered behind the door and met your gaze. “We have to go.” He said.

“I don’t want to.” You protested.

“I know you don’t want to, but you have to. Now c'mon, we’re gonna be late.” He gripped your forearm and lightly dragged you outside to Steve’s car, which he was borrowing so he could drive you to the doctor’s.

You sat down in the passenger’s seat and pouted like a two year old. Soda looked over at you as he buckled his seatbelt, and you did the same. He put his hand on your thigh.

“Baby, come on. It’ll be fine, I promise.” He assured you. He put the key in the ignition and twisted it. The engine revved and the car started. He started his way on the road the the doctor’s office.

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Tim is such a shit with his office at WE, though

like. he has to appear to take everything seriously, because. he is the big cheese.

but he probably has an ironic de-motivational poster on his wall that no one has looked at closely (thank god), and the photo frames on his desk are full of the stock-photos that come with the frames, all of them of the same guy that Tim had to carefully track down

and he has a fake book lined with candy, but i think that goes without saying

Witch!Midoriya AU

AU where the Midoriyas are witches and instead relying on the quirk he wasn’t born with, Izuku focuses on being the best Witch Hero there ever was (even if he’s the first and maybe only one)


  • a wand made from the tree that Katsuki fell off of while crossing a river (it took Izuku months to make just the right one, along with hair from his mother and ash from a site All Might was at)
  • a scrying glass made from the bottom of an old soda bottle he had to carefully polish and make after weeks of work because they couldn’t afford a real scrying glass but damn it all if that was going to stop Izuku
  • witch robes / skirts / dresses because spirits only laugh at witches in pants because clearly men can’t weave themselves into the spirit world (they can but it only took off within the last hundred years, so most spirits just haven’t caught on yet)
  • SPEAKING OF SPIRITS Izuku talks with them more than anyone else through his scrying glasses (he made a pair of scrying glass from more soda bottles and he looks ridiculous while wearing them)
  • Izuku has learned that spells are more instinct than actual words so as long as he can feel his spell coming together, he can make magic work (it amazed his mother with how gifted he was for spellcraft but he makes her cringe because he doesn’t use latin, only rhymes and puns) 
  • The day Izuku got his Witch Hat (a symbol of graduation from trainee to real witch) was the day he realized he really could become a hero and both he and his mom cried for days
  • Bakugou doesn’t know exactly that Izuku is a witch, just that some weird things happen around that quirkless loser
  • Izuku’s familiar is an incredibly ugly cat that followed him home one day he named Claw Might (because he’s nice towards Izuku and mean towards pretty much everyone else although he tolerates Inko)
  • Izuku has a witch wardrobe specifically for battle and he does have a half second long transformation sequence (NO he is NOT a magical girl what are you talking about???) (yes he is)
  • Theoretically Izuku can summon demons but he’s vowed not to because they need a blood sacrifice at the minimum and blood magic is DANGEROUS
  • His broom riding skills are awful because he simply just hasn’t had enough practice but he’s still trying his best
  • All Might seriously considers giving Deku One for All but decides against it when he realizes he doesn’t want to take away Izuku’s identity as a witch (but he trains him in the proper ways of heroics regardless because there is boundless potential in that boy)
  • Iida first called Midoriya “Miss Witch” because he thought that was his appropriate title (and its kinda stuck)
  • Uraraka thinks Deku is like Kiki’s Delivery Service (he’s not)
  • Bakugou is pissy that he missed out on freaking magic and now he’s determined to be better than magic (lmao good luck)
  • Todoroki has seen Midoriya work Fire and Ice Magic and now wants him to tutor him in how to work his Ice better (Midoriya is slowly trying to convince him to work his Fire Side as well to mixed results)
  • Tokoyami thinks he’s literally way cooler than he really is
  • Aizawa may or may not have let Midoriya get away with a tardy or two because the eye-drop potions he makes are better than literally anything else he’s ever tried

Note: I absolutely loved this series. I finished it last night and actually laid awake thinking about it for a few hours, the images haunting just beneath my eyelids. Another wonderful work by The_Dalek_Emperor.

Part I (Below) | Part II | Part III | Part IV |

It’s a long story, but one you’ve never heard before. A story is about a place that dwells in the woods, on the mountain; a place where bad things happen. And you may think you know about the bad things, you may decide you have it all figured out but you don’t. Because the truth is worse than monsters and men.

At first I was upset when they told me we were moving to some little town out in the Ozarks. I remember staring at my dinner plate while I listened to my sister throw a temper tantrum unbefitting of a 14 year old honors student. She cried, she pleaded, and then she cursed at my parents. She threw a bowl at my dad and told him it was all his fault. Mom told Whitney to calm down but she stormed off, slamming every door in the house on the way to her room.

I secretly blamed my dad as well. I’d heard the whispers too, my dad had done something wrong, something bad and the sheriff’s department had reassigned him to some little out of the way county to save face. My parents didn’t want me to know that, but I did.

I was nine so it didn’t take me too long to warm to the idea of a change; it was like an adventure. New house! New school! New friends! Whitney, of course, felt the opposite. Moving to a new school at her age is hard, moving away from her new boyfriend, however, was even harder. While the rest of us packed up our things and said our goodbyes, Whitney sulked and cried and threatened to run away from home. But a month later when we pulled up to our new house in Drisking, Missouri she was sitting right next me texting viciously on her phone.

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Very quick beach trip yesterday. Perfect day for it. Identified the bottle top as an old baking soda bottle! There was a car with the license plate GEMHUNT. I was walking around poking at dead things, picking up seaweed, bags of sand, and barnacles while this guy was in a full khaki outfit and giant fossil hunting scoop. My brain was going: “I hope you’re finding a million sharks teeth, but have you seen and pretty dead crabs anywhere?” “I’m here because I’m fresh out of barnacles.”