oops starting a thing

6

“Thank you, Ray”

It’s easy to forget who you really are when you pretend for too long

(…..I wanted to draw crying Zarc probably…)

9

BTVS aesthetics: Willow Rosenberg 

‘Hi, um…Tara. How are you? I was wondering…do you want to go out sometime? For coffee? Or food? Or kisses and gay love?’

Threads || closed

@stiledsarcasm

The bloodied remnants of the fae woman lay scattered across the clearing. Derek was barely standing, leaning heavily on his left leg with no idea how much of the blood soaking into his shirt, jeans, and hair was his own.

The distant pulse of feet slamming over dry earth matched the sound of his own racing heart, and he let himself relax, slumping down into the dirt. Stiles was coming.

She was on him a second later. Small and delicate looking with soft curls and elfin features, and the strength to grip his throat in one tiny hand and lift him up effortlessly. Fae. Just like the one Derek had barely survived fighting, looking at him with a rage deeper than years could put words to.

“She was killing,” Derek tried, because more than half the blood soaking into the dirt was his, and there was no strength left to fight in him. He didn’t expect it to make a difference, and it didn’t. The creature’s wild eyes swept over him, unforgiving.

“She was mine.”

Stiles’ footsteps were still pounding closer, seconds away and sounding horribly alone. Backup must have been waiting at the loft or spread out too far across the forest. And why would they need to come? Derek had messaged that the threat was gone.

The fae’s lips twitched before he could even think to shout warning, the cold rage in her eyes melting to something thoughtful and somehow more terrifying. A finger dragged an absent caress across Derek’s throat while her eyes tracked to his pounding heart and outward, as though tracing some invisible thread from Derek’s heart to the source of the sound.

“Well,” she mused, “equal and fair in all things, I suppose. Bravo, hero, stopping the wicked fae. I suppose you’ve earned a reward.”

He was expecting a quick tear of nails to his throat, and knew right away it would have been preferable. It was obvious from the curl of the fae’s grin, the hand at his neck, the blood still dripping wet down his temple: a quick death would be the best thing for him.

Instead the fae waited, while Stiles’ footsteps came closer.

Truth or Spin

Klaine Advent: Day 11 - Kiss. 1185 words.

Kurt pulled back from the kiss to whoops and hollers, his cheeks just a little red and his lips even redder. He smirked at the assembled audience, bowing his head in acknowledgement of his own prowess.

“Yes, yes, I am a performer and a pleaser.”

Quinn snorted. “Like I didn’t please you just now, Hummel?” Her lips were similarly red and she was combing her fingers through her hair, trying to settle it back from where Kurt’s hands had mussed it up.

He winked at her, sinking back to his spot in the circle next to Blaine, taking his hand. “Of course, sweetheart, you’re a star.”

She smirked back, leaning over Rachel to boop him on the nose. “You weren’t so bad yourself.” She rolled her eyes as she sat back down. “Better than answering Artie’s question, anyway.”

Artie put up his hands, defensively. “Don’t hate the player, girl. We were all wondering.”

Rachel raised her hand. “I was not wondering if the old guy Quinn dated dyed his pubic hair, actually.”

“And isn’t it so fitting that she had to kiss Kurt who also dated an old guy?” Lauren Zizes piped in.

Kurt pouted, shooting her a look of betrayal. “How dare you? Walter was a sweetheart.” Blaine patted him on the knee.

“Well, Quinn spun, so I guess we’ll never know the answer to either of those questions,” Santana said, her nose crinkled in mild disgust. “You know the rules, Fabray: your turn. Pick a victim.”

Quinn’s smirk turned just a little evil. Calculating. She scanned the circle, mischief playing in her eyes. They landed on Tina.

“Ms. Tina Cohen Chang.” Quinn grinned. “Truth or Spin?”

It was one of those weird, rare, but also weirdly normal nights when the old New Directions were together in the same place. Well, not all of them. Puck was back on active duty and everyone felt the ache of the missing Finn. But they were happy. They were laughing. They were playing a stupid game, for old time’s sake.

Imagine you’re playing truth or dare. It can get pretty intense after a while, if you’re asked something you’d rather not tell or if you’re dared something you’d rather not do. But imagine spin the bottle. You don’t totally want to kiss all of your friends and even them it can get boring. Imagine putting them together: You can pick truth or spin, and if you don’t want to answer the truth, you pick spin as a forfeit. Everyone wins.

Tina sure seemed to think she had nothing to lose. “Truth.”

Quinn’s smile was feral. “How many sex dreams have you had about our dear Mr. Blaine Hummel-Anderson over here?”

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B A D  A P P L E

i am in love with the kuroharem… kinda hard to tell, but order of appearance is:

@ask2pjapan, @askthe2pjapan, @the2pkuro, @askbikerkuro, @ask-olikuro, @ask-lustkuro

anonymous asked:

I've had this in my mind for a while- Tord comes back after the end. Edd stares at him, shuts the door on his face and start nailing the wood things ( I forgot the name oops) at it. Tom helps him. Then suddenly Tord kinda appears and someone throws a hammer at him.

*wood planks

This made me laugh so much

Apparently in Bottomless Pit, when Stan is telling his story, the football players have uniforms that resemble the Packers.

Soooo, headcanon that Stan is a Packers fan and he and Vlad actually met at a game and hit it off. 

Basically now I’m just thinking about grumpy old men and their sports obsessions.