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Hello! Sorry I’ve been inactive for the past week – I’ve been coming home tired and feeling sluggish and I don’t know why ;;v;; I think I should try getting some proper sleep this weekend (usually I only get 3-5 hours a night) ;;v;;

I’ve received recent asks about the Zen Feels Train – please know that it will be updated after the holidays ^o^ Thank you for your interest ♥ I’m also working on some holiday artworks that I hope to finish before the month ends :D ((It’s super fun I hope you guys will like it ^__^))

I’m sorry for letting the messages pile up – I’m trying my best replying privately to some and I’m compiling the others for posting • v •;;; Feel free to resend your ask && tell me if you want a reply right away! I really appreciate all your messages and I’d like to thank you all for taking the time to brighten up my day ♥ ♥ ♥ Please give me a bit more time! Thank you!

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save him. 

Ancient history can be oddly amusing at times

Once, in high school, I read an excerpt from an account by a Roman soldier of an unsuccessful attempt to take over part of Ireland or pre-Roman-influence Britain. He was talking about how he had been fighting a Celt man and had nearly beaten him.

Except he hadn’t counted on one thing.

The Celt was married.

Apparently, over the hill in high dudgeon came a giant of a woman with her whole body painted red. She stormed over to the Celt and the Roman like “Hey, who do you think you are, picking on my smol husband? Back off!”

And from what I remember reading, she knocked the Roman down, picked up her husband under one arm, and marched off.
Presumably, the Roman wasn’t too much the worse for wear, as he had to have survived long enough to write his “Celt women are terrifying” report.

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(read from up to down) 
well. that escalated quickly.  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
here’s my belated HBD for victor! my family is way too festive during Christmas, so i had no time to draw my fav ice skating husbands. Also i HC victor as the type that doesn’t care about his birthday, because to him he’s ‘20′ forever lol.

EXTRA: from shoujo manga scene to Christmas memes. (i cannot escape the memes srry ; u ;))
(again read from up to down) 

^^; i know that Russians don’t celebrate Christmas on the 25th but having traveled all around the world, Victor knows that while he’s turning another age, people are getting festive and blasting MC’s Christmas album. (lol at least i am  XD)

I hope everyone had a happy Christmas and or holiday! ^ u ^ 

my new favorite train of thought is that there’s another wards war picture (x) except Serena and Bernie can’t be bothered, so they’re in the far left of the picture snogging 

They call him the Guess Monster. With his flawless aim and terrifying ability to read and predict his targets, he was a born assassin. Other than that, not much else is known about him. To hire this mysterious man is tricky, somehow he always knows who needs him and who he needs to kill. It goes with the alias most people conclude. He is an enigma wrapped in a mystery and sealed in a conspiracy. Not much is known about him although rumour on the streets says that he’s part of the notorious assassins organisation; ‘Shiratorizawa’. To attempt to dig any deeper is a fools quest - those who have tried to unravel the mystery have simply ceased to be…

I told myself not to but after reading @gue55-monster‘s headcanon submissions, this one in particular stuck out to me and I couldn’t help myself. I have so much other stuff to do which is why this is a massive scribble but I can never resist an opportunity to draw my son being a murderer. 

AND just on the off chance there ends up being a Shiratorizawa Assassins!AU, I would be totally on board with that. *hint hint*

Right Within Your Heart

For the amazing Fernanda (@lilieswho). 

You requested a stereotypical au, so I figured what’s more stereotypical than fake dating, eh? Hope you enjoy!

“I need your help with something.”

Lily looks up from the book she was reading, setting it down next to her on the couch and glancing towards where James Potter stands by the entrance to the empty common room. It’s late - nearly 1am - and Lily is only still up because she was, well, waiting for him. They had some Head stuff to go over, and it probably could’ve waited until morning, but Lily liked the common room at night. The crackling fire, the moonlight gliding through the windows that seemed to make James’ eyes even brighter, it made her feel calm.

“What is it, James?” Lily straightens up as she sees him, his eyes wide and his teeth worrying at his lower lip. This doesn’t seem like his typical late night prank suggestions or ideas for crazy prefect events. “What’s going on?”

“I may or may not have told my parents we’re dating.”

“What?!”

He comes over to her, plopping in the chair across from her and running his hand through his hair. “It was an accident I promise.”

“How did you accidentally tell your parents we were in a relationship?” Lily exclaims leaning towards him.

“Well, two weeks ago, after we won that match against Slytherin, we had that huge party, right? I don’t know if you remember since you-”

“I remember the party, James. Just because you can’t handle your alcohol doesn’t mean the rest of us forget everything after one shot of firewhiskey as well.”

“I think it was more that one shot,” James says teasingly. Lily just glares at him. “Anyways, after that party, at around three in the morning, when it’s safe to say I was just a little bit pissed, I decided that it would be the perfect time to write back to my parents. In their last letter they had asked about you, because they know we’re Heads and all, and I guess, somehow, my intoxicated self wrote that we were dating.”

Lily just looked at him. She really had no idea what to say. Then she remembers what he originally said. She’s almost afraid to ask.

“So what do you need my help with?”

Keep reading

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2016 bones challengeday 3: first episode you watched, and when (august 2010)
“My name is Brennan. I’m Dr….. I’m Dr. Temperance Brennan. I work at the Jeffersonian Institution. I’m a Forensic Anthropologist. I specialize in identifying….. in identifying people when nobody knows who they are. My father was a science teacher. My mother was a bookkeeper. My brother….. I have a brother. I’m Dr. Temperance Brennan.”

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That’s when I realized I had the new start I wanted, 
and that I wasn’t regretting it one bit.

Siel: Part One

Authors Note: I have no idea how long this will be but…yeah. Sam and Lyria are twenty-two in this fic, making Ciel nineteen. Ciel is coming to stay with the Rowaelin family for a while, getting trained up by Rowan and Aelin.


“What are you doing in my bedroom, Twin?” Lyria said, coming in the door.

Not looking up from his novel, Sam said, “Reading.”

Plopping down on her bed, lying next to Sam, Lyria said, “Why don’t you ever read in your room?”

“Because my room is a mess and yours isn’t?”

Lyria turned her head, looking at her twin, “Don’t you ever clean, or have a maid do it, or something?”

Putting the book down on his stomach, Sam looked at his twin, the feather braided, dangling, she was in black leathers, and filthy “But then I wouldn’t know where anything was.”

Lyria snorted, “Ciel is coming over. He’ll be here for a while. His father want’s to have him taught by the Fae as well as the witches.”

Sam sighed, “How long is a while?”

Propping her head on a fist, Lyria slowly smiled, “why do you want to know?”

He glared at her, willing the rising heat in his face to remain hidden. Changing the topic, “Why are you wearing fighting leathers?” He widened his eyes. “Oh no.”

Rolling back onto her pillow she said loudly, “Yup. You forgot training. Again. Father is going to kill you.”

Sam groaned.

“Not to worry dear Twin, I saved your ass, yet again!”

“She really did,” came a voice from the doorway.

Sam jot up, his book falling onto the floor.

His mother was leaning on the door frame, arms folded.

“Mother, I um-”

“Forgot training, again?”

“You should thank your twin. She ended up doing twice the training, covering your ass.”

Sam looked at his sister, she was filthy, she even had twigs in her silver hair. “I’m sorry twin. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You can make it up to her by training with Ciel this afternoon,” said Aelin.

Lyria and their mother gave each other a secret smile. Sam rolled his eyes. Women.

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the second he saw where you were on the camera feed he grabbed his gun and ran. he wouldent waste even a second, he had to get to you.

you were confined in a room but it was easy enough to distract the guards and break in. you looked up from where you were reading. throwing the book down you ran to him.

his arms wrapped around your waist as he lifted you from the ground, burying his face in your neck.

he had no idea how you would both get out of the mountain. but he knew you would do it together.

**********
requested by (x) gosh im mushy <3 <3 <3 

Short Round

A/N: I just wrote this randomly at work. Idk what this is. It’s a drabble which I kept repeating over in my head. I’m short and I want Dean to make fun of me for being short and then fuck me so….. enjoy this? *Please excuse all grammatical mistakes and what not.

Word Count: 503

Warnings:
- language
- implied smut at the end

“Sam, can you please get me that?” You asked him, standing on your tiptoes and stretching for the pot that was so close, yet so far away.

“Sure,” Sam replied, getting up from reading his lore book and taking the pot down for you.

“Thank you,” you exhaled in relief.  

“No problem, short round,” he said, messing up your hair with his large hand.

You could hear Dean laughing behind you as you filled the pot up with water. Turning around quickly, you glared at him.

“What is so funny?” you asked, putting your hand on your hip.  

“How adorably short you are,” he replied, giving you his famous Winchester wink.

“Standing next to the both of you, anyone would look short, Dean. Shut up.” You turned around and continued what you were doing, putting the pot of water on the stove and turning it on. You opened up the cabinet above the stove and realized the spaghetti noodles were also out of reach. Before you could turn around to stand on the nearby kitchen chair, Dean’s hands were around your waist. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his lips so close to your ear you could feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Let me get that for you,” he whispered, leaning up to grab the noodles and handing them to you.

“I could’ve gotten that myself,” you answered smugly.

“Don’t get so bent out of shape, sweetheart,” Dean said, leaning against the counter next to you; his arms crossed at his chest, along with his delicious bow legs. “You know I love how short you are. It’s a turn on to watch you struggle with everyday tasks. Plus, it’s easier to pick you up and put you against the wall when I fuck you.” You laughed, coughing and choking on your own spit. Sam was not amused.

“Dude,” he said, raising his hands in the air. “I’m right here.”

“Aw come on, Sammy. We’re all adults here.”

Your eyes continued to flit from Dean to Sam, unable to control your laughter at how uncomfortable Sam was right now.

“Dean, I’d prefer not to hear about how you… put someone I consider my sister against the wall and fuck–”

“Oooookay,” you said, cutting Sam off. “I get it.”

Dean was behind you again, his hands moving up and down your stomach under your shirt.

“How about we go put you up against my bedroom wall and you can wrap those cute little legs around me?” His hand made contact with your ass, the thwack echoing in the bunker. You turned around and the lust in Dean’s eyes made your thighs automatically clench together.

“Sam,” you whispered, taking your hand and rubbing it over Dean’s denim clad erection, squeezing it lightly. “Watch the spaghetti.” Dean smiled and took your hand, leading you to his bedroom as quickly as he could. Sam sighed as he watched you both disappear.

“So gross,” he said, closing his book shut with a snap.

11 Questions Tag

I was tagged by @shaelinwrites to do this super awesome tag so I’m just going to get right into it!

How many works in progress do you currently have?

I currently have two WIPs which I’ve spoken about a few times on this blog. I’m a pretty slow worker, so two is a great balance for me.

Do you/Would you write fanfiction?

No I don’t and no I wouldn’t. It’s just not my thing :)

Do you prefer real books or ebooks?

I haven’t read many ebooks so I’d have to say real books just because I haven’t been exposed very much to the whole ebook world. But I am almost positive that they are ten times more convenient compared to these clunky pages that you get food on and can’t hold properly and possibly become the reason why you don’t want to read because you’re shifting from your side to sitting up to lying down on the other side to holding the book in the air and stuff.

yeah.

When did you start writing?

If we’re talking novels and all of that, I started writing in the summer of 2014. So I was 12. But I’ve always had stories in my head, as I can assume a lot of people do.

Do you have someone you trust that you would share your work with?

Yes I do! @coffeeandcalligraphy and I always share our work and I’m sure we always will. Basically all of the fresh stuff goes to her. I also share my work with my best friend over @imdisappointed.

They both were a part of the era in which I cut out a character completely and casually said I don’t want her in this book anymore so she go poof poof.

And they listened and never remind me that this said character shows up in the first 30k but is never mentioned again.

I can’t be the only one who does this.

Where is your favourite place to write?

I honestly don’t have a favourite place to write, but all I ask for is some silence. I come from a very noisy household (band practice, loud dogs, loud TV, loud everything) and getting away from all of the confusion is a dream when I’m in the zone. If that’s just not possible, I just resort to my bedroom (which also tends to be loud because @coffeeandcalligraphy) with maybe a few candles lit

Look at the aesthetic.

Favourite childhood book?

The Faraway Tree honestly is probably the thing that got me into writing. Although I never wrote as I child (aside from those stupid stories I’d create when I was 10 which I don’t really count), this book inspired the creation of different worlds and fantasies and all of that mushy stuff. It’s the book that’s responsible for making me think “Who wouldn’t write a story, it’s so fun!”

Writing for fun or for publication?

This is actually a great question. Shrink and Wither are both personal projects, which I find extremely important, so those two aren’t going to be published. I haven’t written many novels, but for the two that I have written, I never went in thinking whether they’d be on shelves or not. Of course everyone would like their book published because you put so much work into it, but, I’ve never actually made it a goal from the beginning to publish either of these and my other novel. However, my half-novel Her Name is Delilah is intended for publication as I know that it’s marketable and all of that.

Pen and paper or computer?

Funny story. When I first started writing, I thought that using a pen and paper was less conspicuous than using a computer. I thought less people would be able to find it, as I could tuck it away and hide it. Then I learned of those things called passwords that you can encrypt on your document. I actually wrote about half of my first novel with a pen and a paper, but that’s just not realistic for me anymore. My handwriting is a disaster.

And as an update, I do not know where drafts of my hand-written drafts have gone x)

Have you ever taken any writing classes?

No I haven’t actually, but I intend to!

What inspires you to write?

Nothing really inspires me to write. But I guess nothing in some people’s eyes could be seen as everything. I write because there’s all this shit in my brain that I need to get out onto paper. Music sometimes helps, but not really. It’s just all me, I guess. That sounds oddly vain.

I just don’t stand out in the sun or hear certain lyrics and think to write, but inspiration is completely subjective.

Anyways! That’s the end of this tag! I hope it was interesting and I hope you maybe learned  a little more about me as a writer! I don’t really have anyone to tag, but if you see this and would look to, please tag me as I’d love to read!

i pretend to be cool but i’ve just spent the last half hour alone in my room literally jumping up and down from the excitement of reading about the phenomenon of contour completion in cuttlefish. no joke man i turn into a child when something fascinates me i’ve been giddy for 30 minutes over a cuttlefish study

Let’s say that you are a skeleton, and that you don’t know how or why.  You hide your… condition under expensive clothes, scraps of dead tissue, and a great deal of cosmetics, but at the end of the day you can’t say you are satisfied with your current lot in life.

So you steal some necromancy tomes from the archives of the local zombie cult,  climb down to a nice deserted ledge in the sub-city Catacombs, and start reading.  Two of the books you snagged stink of black magic (more so than you would expect, anyway), so you quarantine them just a bit further down the side of the cliff as a precaution in case they are cursed.

Let’s say your silent study session is interrupted by a shadowy sneak snatching your stash!

So you jump down from your cozy reading ledge to beat them up and maybe reanimate them as your eternal undead lackey if you are feeling charitable.  They stab you in the neck with a wickedly serrated dagger, but you don’t care - under all the extra flesh you are a skeleton.  You engage in a brief fistfight on the side of a chasm, but your skele-fu just isn’t up to snuff today and you are unable to steal your ill-gotten gains back.

Let’s say you happen to remember ‘Wait a second - I’m also a wizard.  Fuck.’  You say so out loud and then use death magic to reinforce and strengthen yourself.  Faced with the power of calcium your necromantic might, they bolt.  This is a very understandable and honestly quite common reaction.

So you chase them, and for several hours a very irritating game of cat and mouse takes place throughout the undercity.  

They can’t outrun you, because you are a skeleton and don’t eat, sleep, breathe, or tire.  You can’t catch them though, because you are a skeleton and dexterity is not part of that particular package.

They can’t lose you in the dark and twisting tunnels because you can taste the wretched energy pouring off the stolen books and know these paths like the back of your metacarpals.  You can’t use that to ambush them though, because as a sneaky rogue they are crafty and knowledgeable in the ancient art of evading ambushes

Let’s say you eventually catch up and see your prize sitting undefended on the edge of a ravine.  ‘Wow’, you think, ‘That is such an obvious tra-’  The sneak springs from her hiding spot and kicks you off the cliff.  

Of course, your skele-fu is much improved by your enhanced strength and hours of intense frustration.

So you do the sensible thing and drag her right over the edge with you.  You don’t mind, because you are a skeleton and you are starting to worry that this messes with your perception of physical danger a little bit. Fortunately, the squishy human manages to cushion your fall, and you hit the bottom of the ravine with a crunch.  You aren’t entirely sure which one of you it came from - both, probably -  but then again you don’t really care.    After all, you are (unfortunately, for now and possibly forever) a skeleton.  Oh well.  You finally caught the sneak!

The sense of triumph is fleeting.  Like someone once told you, every silver lining by definition has to bring an awful lot of cloud along with it.  You did not notice earlier, because in addition to not breathing or eating you also do not feel, at least not in the same way that you used to.  

You look like something the cat dragged in.   Your expensive clothes and once passably-alive skin are utterly ruined - sliced to ribbons doesn’t do you or your attire justice, and what is left is stained with all manner of unspeakable things.  You did just spend the last several hours running through caves and sewers.  

Let’s say that, unlike much of the rest of you, these things are not so easily replaced.

So you kick the unconscious?  dead?  thief a few times for good measure (as it turns out, you are NOT feeling charitable today) and begin what is sure to be a delightful and very very long journey back to your books.

Setting - Magic: The Gathering
System - FATE/Dresden Files

In which my fledgling lich has her quiet evening rudely interrupted.