seriously that hair totally works for you

Colour Soulmate AU - Jughead X OC / Part 2

[LONG A/N: You guys asked for it so you guys got it, I don’t love it as much as the first part but this is as good as its gonna get cause I’ve wrote it and rewrote and then rewrote it again and then went to the SBC and asked them all about it (thanks @kingpendleton u my boo). So without further ado, here ya go bbs.

Also sorry if you wanted to be tagged in this but didn’t, I had a lot of people requesting to be tagged and now because tags aren’t really working well plus the amount of you asking is just a super crazy amount I’m going to stop adding new people to the list - honestly I totally appreciate and love your guys support but I feel like its a bit pointless when I know tagging isn’t directing anyone to my work and you’ve still just got to scroll through my blog to get to the specific fic. In light of this though I am going to seriously update my masterlist so finding my work shouldn’t be difficult and I will reblog it daily so people can stay up to date!]

Part 1

Word Count: 2106

Originally posted by juptern

‘Jughead, can you see in colour?’

The inky-haired teen quickly began to raise himself from the booth, he slammed shut his laptop and gathered it together with the papers that lay scattered across the table. He brought his knees up to his chest in a bid to jump over the back of the booth before a looming hand grappled his shoulder tightly.

‘Oh no you don’t buddy.’ Archie Andrews booming voice called out.

‘Let go of my shoulder Arch.’ Jughead replied sternly. ‘This is something that isn’t up for discussion.’

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Jimon prompt: "Run away with me."

Notes: This turned into 2500 words of I don’t even know what even….

From This List


It’s taken a lot of malling over and really intensive hand on action—You know like Simon sweeping slick fingers over Jace’s insane six pack, and caressing his perfectly rounded ass for minutes on end—like seriously what even? Does angel blood like automatically ensure that you’re otherworldly gorgeous or something? Because totally unfair for Simon and all the other lowly mortals—But any how, all  of that hard work has lead to Simon coming to the conclusion that Jace is most definitely the secret love child of James Dean—with that slicked back hair and his leather jacket that moves his shoulders just right—and Captain America himself, you know cause he’s constantly permeating  superhero cockiness and has these eyes that fucking glide over Simon with a hunger that makes Simon’s skin prickle. Jace  looks at him as if they were in the same league, hell like they were even playing the same sport.  As if Jace was not in the baseball majors while Simon was warming the benches for some random ass curling team—Hell do curling teams  even have enough people to warrant  benches? And does New York even have a curling division, because no way in hell is Simon moving. He’s just got on good footing with Raphael’s clan, and has a sweet crib with Magnus—even if Simon suspects Magnus would really appreciate the sudden increase of privacy  so to be as loud as he’d like with Alec—who’s surprisingly—

No, wait! Hold up!  Simon is totally getting off track.

The point is that Jace looks like half leather bound bad boy and every kid’s envision of a superhero—While simultaneously being a secret dork who loves comics almost as much as Simon, and is super obsessed with counting his calories and having a minimal of three hours cardio every day. (Which actually ends up being quite fun since he’s begrudgingly conceded that Simon’s form of exercise  would just have to do.)

Speaking of…

“I’m…gonna…be late,” Jace pants out, punctuating each breathless word with another kiss along Simon’s collar bone.

“Hmmm, c’mon dude—ooo,” Simon let’s out a little moan when Jace bites down—a teasing nibble. “Since when are you ever punctual?””

“Since before I ever made the grave decision to get involved with such a bad influence,” Jace nearly growls out—never unlatching his lips from Simon’s jawline.

“Hey goldilocks, I’m not making you do anything,” Simon needles, raising his hands placatingly, A far too innocent  smile swept over his face as if he did not just cant his hips upwards so their denim clad erections buck up  against each other.

“You’re a menace,” Jace groans out, collapsing his head onto Simon’s shoulder, making him laugh as he cards a hand through Jace’s hair.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. And  your the guy who’s parabatai is leading this whole meeting thing, so What’s the big deal if you’re just a little late because you’re totally getting some from your mega hot vampire boyfriend!”

At that, Jace stiffens, just slightly—a sudden tautness stranding the once easy ambience that has begun to surround them ever since they admitted their pitifully hidden feelings for one another after a particularly nasty battle against Sebastian and his demonic minions.

It’s been at least a month, but Simon swears that he can still taste the snow flakes that cascaded across Jace’s irresistibly scarlet lips, and can still feel the way everything just clicked into focus after Simon just finally told him that if Jace had gotten hurt in any serious way Simon wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Never being one to pass up a grand gesture, Jace promptly  just crashed their lips together in a cacophony of teeth and tongue and spit. It was messy and startling and awkward before they finally adjusted themselves into a more comfortable position—one where Jace’s nose wasn’t stabbing against Simon’s eye, or his arms weren’t trapped between their ribcages. But even if he had the chance,  Simon wouldn’t change the moment in  the slightest—even if he’s pretty sure they both would’ve gotten frost bite  if they were not a vampire and part angel respectively—Because it  was all them, all their hesitated words and nervous mutterings finally culminated into something worth a million lifetimes.

“I should go,” Is all Jace manages out while tugging on the combat boots that Simon had abashedly presented to him as a Hanukkamass gift. (What can he say, even his devoutly jewish grandfather loved him his reindeer cookies and Christmas trees as much as he did his dreidel  and retellings of the eight plagues—combining the two holidays was the only plausible option.)

“Ah, okay…” Simon sits up so to slide in-between Jace and the wall of his  sparsely embellished room. (Simon would reason that all Shadowhunters are minimalist in their decorating prowls  if he did not know that Izzy owned three different types of fairy lights that she draped up with gusto, depending on the major holiday of that season.) “So you’re allowed to be a cocky shit, but the second that I call myself sexy you get all broody—“

Jace’s brows shoot up in flabbergasted shock.

“What! Simon! NO no nO!” Jace wobbles out as he whips his head to meet Simon’s gaze straight on—And yeah, Simon may or may not be so totally amused at how much of a scared puppy he looks right now.

“Bro, I know! Chill,” Simon all but guffaws, very nearly keeling over and toppling off of Jace’s bed.

His lips twist up in annoyance. “I’m not your bro,” he scoffs, moving to tug on his T-shirt and jacket.

“NO, no you most definitely are not,” Simon amends, a far too fond smile tilting the corners of his lips. And he’s sure that his eyes are doing that dazed, adoring thing that they only get when around Jace—But he doesn’t even mind how sappy that is. “You are my adorably flustered boyfriend, who I thought agreed to move past the monosyllabic sentences.”

“Simon, just because I’m not prone to speaking essay length diatribes about whatever injustice I’m feeling is particularly bad that day—like you—Doesn’t mean I only speak one word at a time.”

“Kay, first of all point, even though my essay long diatribes so totally make your days a million times brighter.”

“Never said they didn’t.”

Simon can’t help his preening at that. “Yeah, well no matter how precious your little admission is—that doesn’t help you skirt around the second point. You are not as wily as you’d like to think Lightwood.”

“And what’s that second point Simon?”

“That we agreed to not keep secrets after that whole fairy incident—“

“Yeah, well I would’ve liked some warning before seeing that prick rub himself all over you right in front of me,” Jace mutters darkly—his eyes getting steely, the way they always do whenever Simon or one of their friends bring up that total mess of a mission to poke fun at how jealous the great and mighty sex god Jace Lightwood could get.

“Bro, we weren’t even dating—We just agreed to be friends after we agreed how immature that pissing match over Clary was. You totally had no right to curl up behind me and pretend that I was already taken.”

“I have no regrets, that fay was a total sleaze ball, and again. I most definitely am not your bro.”

Simon has half a mind to bring up that Jace was kinda a sleaze ball at that time too—Okay, well not really. Just a big, emotionally inept dork who had no idea how to tell Simon that he was totally hot for him. Simon’s pretty sure that Maia still thinks that Jace is that guy he postured around pretending he is, but Simon knows better. Jace is a big marshmallow who had a really shitty father who practically taught him from birth that loving anyone was signing your death warrant. Honestly, Simon is shocked that they’ve gotten this far in what’s objectively a pretty short amount of time. Whenever Simon brings up this little observation to Jace, he just continues on tracing the love rune onto Simon’s shoulder (And yeah, Simon so totally knows it’s the love rune but still hasn’t admitted to Jace that he memorized the rune book like the first week that Valentine was arrested and they actually had a moment to breathe.) and tucks his head a little deeper into the crook of Simon’s neck and shoulder.

“You’re you,” he would cautiously admit into the depth of the night—a pink tint touching the tops of his impossible cheekbones, and his heartbeat fluttering about a million times faster, Making Simon’s insides feel like  molten lava.

“Okay, we’ll return to that particular argument later on, you know after you tell me what’s really  bothering you.”

Simon almost expects Jace to just mutter out an “I’m fine,” and swagger away, leaving the sent of his blue Calvin Klein and about a million more questions in his wake. But he doesn’t storm off. Instead, he collapses back onto the duvet besides Simon—resting his head against the wall, and looking up at him from underneath his spider leg lashes.

“I’m scared that you’ll think I’m insane or warped.”

At that, Simon practically flails around so to sprawl himself half over Jace, and locks their hands together—squeezing them so he knows that Simon is right there. “That’s impossible Jace, Nothing you could say could make me think that.” When  it looks like his resolve is wavering, Simon just squeezes harder. “I’m not going anywhere.” It’s as close to an “I love you,” that either of them have ever gotten with each other—both to terrified that if they move to hard and fast with what they have, karma or providence or whatever shit show that’s been fucking up their lives so immensely will catch wind and ruin all they’ve built. So they never say it—Just reminding the other that he’s there, and he’ll never leave.

I—I’ve been having these dreams,” Jace admits, puncturing the precarious hush that has hugged around them—a stillness that once unnerved Simon, until he found that his center felt a lot more balanced whenever he was tangled into Jace’s embrace.

“Dreams?” Simon prods, gently—knowing all too well how difficult this is for the ordinarily stoic and ever proud Lightwood to do—allowing himself to admit acknowledge his weaknesses to anyone, let alone the one person who could probably destroy him without effort.

“About Valentine, and Sebastian. About my childhood I guess…The thing is it wasn’t all bad all the time. He was the only father that I knew—A father who made me spaghetti, and gave me my first Seraph Blade and read me bed time stories-“

“Yeah, stories about love being the worst type of cancer, and how killing makes you strong. Oh! And let’s not forget his stance on corporal  punishment and-“

“Simon,” Jace’s laugh is something light and soothing, a beautiful sound that is far too amused by how heated Simon is getting over the thought of anyone hurting Jace—especially a little ten year old version of him who couldn’t wait to be best friends with a falcon until his chickenshit of a father snapped it’s neck right in front of him.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t want you to get diluted into thinking that man isn’t a complete monster.”

His lips turn up into a small, almost sad smile. “Trust me Simon, I know—It’s just weird. I mean all this time he’s had another son he hid away from me. I just wonder sometimes if I knew, if I found him while training in the woods or something…Maybe Sebastian could’ve turned out different, you know? Maybe we could’ve escaped somehow? Or he could’ve moved in with the Lightwoods with me and he’d be on our side.”

Oh, and there it is.

Right when Simon thought he’s got Jace all figured out, the dude decides to throw him a total curve ball, showing just how compassionate and good he truly is.

“A dumb thought, yeah?”

“Hey, no shut your mouth. This is not my “Jace has a dumb thought,” face, I have that when you don’t think I could totally rock leather pants.”

“I just said that wasn’t you’re style, not that I wouldn’t thoroughly enjoy the view.”

Simon hurdles on as if Jace hadn’t spoken. “This my far too open hearted boyfriend is my besotted face.”

Jace blushes.

“It just sucks, the thought of what could’ve been. I or Clary even—We could’ve had an actual  brother, and he could’ve been human and happy and normal—I just feel guilty, and sad and I hate Valentine so much for all the ways he ravaged everything that ever got in his way.”

His voice tapers off to something quieter and more contemplative, like he’s lost himself in his own idealistic prospects of some sort of elusive life that they’ll never know.

Gingerly, Simon cups a hand over his cheek, and presses a feather light kiss onto his lips. A reminder over anything else.

“Runaway with me,” he mouths against him, causing a small, beautifully delighted peal of laughter to pour from him.

“And where do you think we’d go Simon?” Tendrils of warmth curl around Simon’s stomach at the sound of Jace sting his name like that—like something precious and fragile and so so  vital—like a prayer.

“I don’t care, just anywhere with you—And preferably wifi if that’s an option,” he rectifies after a thought.

“You’re insane,” Jace chuckles ruefully.

“And there’s nothing you could’ve done. Valentine kept you guys apart for a reason Jace.”

“And what’s that?” HE challenges with hiked brows.

“Because he knows that you are good, and was afraid that you would’ve inspired even someone infected with demonic poison to be better. Cause that’s what you do Jace, you make us all want to be better and stronger and inspire us that we can do it. That we can be like you.”

The kiss Jace gives him right then is something this edge of desperate and amazing.

“No matter what—I’m pretty sure that we would’v ended up here—in this bed…doing this over and over again.”

“Yeah-Yeah, I bet you say that to all your bedfellows.” Simon teases, but kissing back with as much fervor.

“NO, just you. always you.”

And yeah that is so totally sappy but Simon doesn’t mind, because he feels the same.


Good thing Alec is Jace’s parabatai, because he never does end up getting to that meeting.

And they do end up running away together—It’s just for a weekend at some winery upstate that Rebecca told Simon about. But it was probably the funnest get away in Simon’s life—Even if Magnus, and Alec, and Clary, and Izzy all end up crashing it half way through.

Notes: Thank you so much for the prompt <3 

Please go ahead and shoot me one if you’re interested 😁

Originally posted by musiktt


A/N: Okay, quirk isn’t the word I would use for some of the headcanons I put down, but bear with me. Writing “interesting headcanon” didn’t have the same ring to it. Also the gif destroyed me for a good ten minutes and I’m still laughing as I post this. 


Quirk: His sock drawer is spick n’ span, despite the rest of his room being a complete mess (You know, genius mind)

Hobby: Has a secret love for playing nerdy card games/collecting card (He’d totally be a pokemon lover in a modern AU and have an extensive knowledge of how each card works and have a killer stategy. Seriously, don’t challenge him.)


Quirks: Doesn’t have a lot of hair, very smooth, babylike skin.

Hobby: Really good at singing, loves to rock out and perform songs at night in his room.


Quirk: Is actually blind, that’s why he always where’s his shades/glasses. His bugs see for him.

Hobby: He loves to go camping and exploring through the woods. It’s a peaceful atmosphere with little noises, which helps given the intensity of his four remaining senses.


Quirk: Has hidden tattoos on his body, all made of the same red paint that his fang markings are made of. They’re all coming-of-age-related, and are all mostly on his right upper arm.

Hobby: Loves to play frisbee on his off time. (Dog boy af)


Quirk: Has a food eating curfew. Although he won’t censor how much he eats through out the day, he’s a strong believer in not eating for three hours before bedtime, and so he’ll stop snacking at around six o'clock on a normal day.

Hobby: Loves any physical activities, but has a special love for hiking and swimming. This is why, when training, he is often stumbled across in the middle of forests and near bodies of water.


Quirk: He is such a cat person. You don’t even know.

Hobby: He likes to cook, and has a natural talent for it. It’s something productive he can do on his down time, which suits him, because he hates being lazy or unproductive.

Antagonistic (a snowbaz au)


I’m running late. This is a fairly common occurrence. I’m the sort of person that everything has a knack for going wrong around. Ebb is used to it though, so luckily I know I’m not going to lose my job because I woke up this morning a half hour later than I’m supposed too. After throwing on the first pieces of clothing I find (my ex-girlfriend’s purple lacrosse sweatshirt and some ripped jeans) I rush out of my apartment and into the elevator. I haven’t even brushed my hair, or eaten breakfast, or even glanced in the mirror this morning so of course it’s the morning when my perfect, snobbish neighbor decides to make an appearance.

“Snow,” he nods his head as I rush into the elevator, my messenger bag catching on the doors and almost getting caught as they close. His long black hair is combed back neatly, his perfect eyebrows arched at my bedraggled, somewhat noisy appearance. Merlin, I hate him. Even his jeans look better on him than a normal person, clean and well-fitted.

“Baz” I pant back, trying to catch my breath from my sprint to the elevator. Fuck, I need to start eating healthier. But Ebb’s cherry scones are so good, and I can eat as many as I want. Perks of working at the cafe. The elevator starts moving.

“How’s the girlfriend?”

“Fuck off”

“Crowley, Snow. I’m just trying to have a polite conversation.”

Baz hates my girlfriend (ex-girlfriend). And he hates smalltalk. He already knows we broke up, he would have heard her last week when she ended it and is just trying to rub it in. (Baz is always complaining about the thin walls between our apartments. But I’m not the one playing violin at ridiculous o’clock in the morning so he has nothing to complain about).

“For fuck’s sake Baz I’m already having a shitty day. I’m late for work and I don’t need to have to deal with you along with that-”

As I say that the elevator groans and shudders to a stop. I glance at the screen. It’s stuck at a three on the screen. The doors don’t open.

“Just my luck,” Baz mutters.

I don’t spare him a glance, rushing to the doors and pressing the floor button rapidly. The elevator doesn’t respond. No no no no no. This cannot be happening.

“Aleister, Snow, maybe if you try pressing the button one more time it’ll work?” I glance up from where I’ve collapsed onto the floor in front of the rows of buttons. Baz is leaned against the elevator wall, arms crossed, smirking. Merlin I hate him.

“The elevator’s not going anywhere Snow,” he continues. He pulls out his phone from his jeans pocket.

“No but I’m going to be late!”

He scoffs. “To that stupid job at Ebb’s cafe? Good riddance.”

“Fuck off Baz!”

“Trust me if I could I would- shit”

“What?” I get up at his pause and move over to try and see the phone he’s glaring at.

He pushes me away as I lean closer.

“I don’t have service which means I can’t call anyone to fix this mess. Do you have your phone?”

“Of course.” I reach into my bag to grab it.

And freeze.

“Crowley Snow just get the fucking phone I have places to be as well.”

“I don’t have it”

“What” he stares at me, eyes narrowing.

“I-” I think back to this morning, me running around the apartment in a maddening hopeless race to be on time.

“I woke up late this morning, I forgot it”

He swears again when I say that.

“Look it’s not like I want to be stuck here with you either!” I start.

“No Snow! Do you realize that it could be fucking hours before old Davy or Miss Possibelf on third floor realize the elevator isn’t working?”

“Well, maybe-”

“Maybe what? Huh?” Baz is totally flipping out. I mean, he always hates me but he’s never lost his cool like this.

He’s pacing the length of the elevator and running his long fingers through his hair. Fuck, I’m going to be so late. Ebb is gonna hate me. Also I’m probably not going to get any sour cherry scones. My stomach growls and Baz stops his pacing and turns to glare at me.

“What? I didn’t eat breakfast.”


“I was running late!”

He runs his hands through his hair.

“Crowley Snow how thick can you be? You’re seriously concerned about breakfast right now? We are stuck. In an elevator. That’s maybe, maybe ten feet square. And you’re concerned about breakfast.”

A thought occurs to me.

“Baz? Are you- Are you claustrophobic?”

“Shut the fuck up Snow.” He sighs and leans against the wall again. At least he’s not pacing. But Merlin, Baz, perfect, put-together, prissy Baz is claustrophobic. I don’t know what to do with that information.


It’s not that I’m claustrophobic exactly. I just can’t be stuck in here with him. My messy, loud, frustratingly adorable neighbor. And now he’s practically giving me heart eyes because he thinks I hate tight spaces. I need to do something to get him to stop.

He opens his mouth to say something, probably something stupid cause it’s Snow.

“Is it physically possible for you to be quiet for even one minute Snow?”

His face turns red.

“Well what if I don’t want to be quiet?”

“Really Snow? I’m stuck in an elevator with you the least you could do is shut up.”

“Well if you weren’t so fucking-” he pauses, hands floundering, searching for words.

I’ve always found this interesting. Snow gesticulates more than he speaks. If he tried to say what he meant all the time he’s flounder for days before he got the words out of his mouth.

“Fucking what? Snow? If I weren’t so fucking what?”


I smirk and lean back. “Wow, that’s a big word. Penny teach you that one?”

He glares at me. I know I’m mean. I’ve heard Penny talk to him about speech therapy before. But it’s so entertaining to rile him up, watch him get messier and bigger and greater. He comes alive when he has someone to fight. It’s beautiful to watch.

“If you weren’t so antagonistic,” he says again, “then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be stuck in here with you.”

“Yeah, or if you weren’t so annoying,” I mutter.

“What do you have against me anyway?” he asks. His eyes trail away from mine towards the floor.

Just then a knock on the metal doors interrupt us.

“This is Fire and Rescue! You guys okay in there? We got a call about some disturbance in the elevator? People complaining about the noise?”

I keep my eyes on Simon as he perks up and rushes to the doors.

“Yeah!” he yells. “We’re, uh, we’re stuck. The doors won’t open and the elevator isn’t, uh, moving, i think.”

“You think?” I mutter. He glares at me.

“It must be sweet Simon and that Basilton in there, always fighting those two,” I hear Miss Possibelf whisper. Of course she called. She’s always getting up in other people’s business.

“Alright,” the fireman says against the doors. “How many of you are there?”

“Uh, two” Simon replies. He glances at me.

“Okay, just try not to kill each other til we get you out alright?” The fireman bangs on the door once. “It shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes.”

“No promises.” I reply, too softly for the fireman to hear.

I hear a creak and a groan as the fireman starts to do whatever he’s doing to get us out. We’ve already been in here for half an hour, according to my phone.

“What is wrong with you?” Simon turns to me, eyes blazing.

“Wrong with me?”

“Yeah. What the fuck is your problem with me? You’ve been like this ever since I moved in here and I am sick of it. I’ve given you no reason to hate me but you do.”

Oh, Simon, I think, if only I could hate you.

“I mean, sure I’m not the best neighbor. And yeah I’m a mess. But I’m not- I’m not fucking playing the fucking violin at three in the morning. And I’m not eavesdropping on private conversations. Oh, and yeah Agatha broke up with me so just rub that in my face while you’re at it. Happy? But I mean, if either of us has a reason to hate each other I think it should be me and I don’t hate you. You’re too-” He pauses, sucking in air. I don’t think he’s ever said so much at once.

“Too what?” I ask quietly.

“Perfect, Baz. You’re too bloody perfect.”

And then I’m moving forward and my hands find his cheeks and my mouth finds his lips and I have him up against the doors of the elevator and I can’t think because why is he so beautiful and messy and glorious. I should not be doing this, but I can’t help it anymore. I can’t fucking help it anymore. And then Simon moves his hands into my hair and he’s pushing his mouth back against mine and it’s so, so good.

I pull back, gasping, and press my forehead against his, looking at his blue, blue eyes. “I don’t hate you Simon. I wish I could, because you’re- fuck you’re bloody annoying and messy and loud, but it’s beautiful Simon. So yeah, I don’t hate you. I- I love you Simon.”

His eyes grow wide, and I can feel my cheeks turning red before he’s pulling me back into him, kissing me hard. I lean into him, my eyes closing as I melt into the sensations. I’m kissing Simon Snow.

And then there’s a loud clunk and the doors fall open. In a rush we both topple out, a tangle of limbs sprawled on the floor. Miss Possibelf, Old Davy, and the fireman stare down at us in surprise. Simon grins his gorgeous grin and blushes a glorious shade of red. I smirk from where I’m settled on top of us and look at the fireman.

“I believe we owe you a thank you for getting us out of there. Even if it took ridiculously too long.”

The fireman just blinks down at me, sprawled over Simon, whose lips are obviously swollen from kissing.

“But you were- the yelling? What?”

“Ah, yes, we’ve figured that out. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have places to be.” I pull Simon up and tug him forwards, dragging him up the stairs and towards my apartment. 

I hear quiet murmurs from the people we’ve left behind, specifically the fireman, who shakes his head and mutters, “What the fuck.”

slothquisitor  asked:

Once you get this, you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly. Then you have to send this to ten of your favourite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool~)

Five things I like about me. This is hard because I don’t do well with self-praise. 

1. My hair is seriously fantastic. It curls beautifully, looks great with beach waves or straight. Totally my favorite.

2. I keep a level head in pressure situations. 

3. I am dedicated and loyal. Kick ass friend.

4. I am a beast on the softball diamond, and play every chance I get. I also coach for the jr. high I work at. Being athletic was always important to me!

5. My butt, and I cannot lie.

It’s a seriously close call between this attractive bastard and Beyblade’s Kai for the title of “my first love”. How was my young an impressionable self supposed to resist those eyes? And such pretty hair *happy sigh* Trunks was truly blessed with some magnificent genes. 

I totally made up the musculature lmao. I need to work on that…

I’m on a bit of a DBZ kick at the moment (you may have noticed). Bear with me whilst I work it out of my system…

(PS, still laughing at “Nailed”)

TITLE: Bachelor Auction


AUTHOR: saint03

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki at a bachelor auction.

Rating: K+

NOTES/WARNINGS: Nothing really; maybe a warning for cheesiness?

“C’mon! We’re going to be late!” your best friend Elizabeth calls to you, even though you are both, in fact, 30 minutes early.

“Alright, alright I’ll be there,” I say, while stepping off the subway. Liz and you both walk up the steps into one of the many lively New York streets. Liz goes off to get money from an ATM and you stand there wishing more than anything that you could stand there and get lost in this crowd of people rather than partake in one of the most embarrassing spectacles of your life. (Because, despite your best friend’s protests, attending a bachelor auction would be one of the most embarrassing spectacles of your life.)

Keep reading

If Felicity Smoak Had a Female BFF

Is it just me or is there more testosterone than usual in the Arrow lair these days?  As much as I love Oliver and Dig (and tolerate the newbies), I’ve missed having Thea and Lyla around. We also have yet to see much interaction between Felicity and Evelyn.

There aren’t many people that Felicity can really turn to these days to communicate how she’s feeling, especially since Oliver and Dig are preoccupied with their own issues. Seriously, the writers have admitted that OTA is the “secret sauce.” Slather it all over this season and give us what we love already, damn it! 

Anyway, casting my fan fury aside, it would be so nice if Felicity had a female BFF. Even when Thea, Laurel, Lyla, and Sara were in the lair, we got very little interaction. Curtis has been there for Felicity, but he’s clearly distracted being Mr. Terrific. Plus, there are just some things women can only discuss with each other.  I doubt this will ever happen, but I thought it’d be fun to think up a list of questions a female BFF would ask Felicity in Season 5. We’d probably get some really truthful confessions and juicy deets!

~“Are you sleeping?  Are you eating enough?  Why do you look so upset all the time?  Talk to me!”

Originally posted by supersillyanddorky06

~“You’re in fabulous shape. Have you been working out?  Who’s your trainer?”

Originally posted by evenstarss

~“Your eyes still light up when talking about Oliver.  Are you two getting back together?”

Originally posted by feilcityqueen

~“Girl, why are you dating that sloppy detective with the small hands?  You could do so much better. Run!”

Originally posted by lovehollistein

~“Cute shoes! Where did you get them?”

Originally posted by goldenbuttonsnpearls

~“I love your lipstick, but it’s smudged.  Did you make a ‘mistake’ with Oliver again?”

Originally posted by elenadrakefisher

~“Are you going to try and get your company back?  That Mr. Dennis was such a jerk. Totally threatened by you!”

Originally posted by gurl

~“Are you starting your own company?  I think it’s a fabulous idea.”

Originally posted by sexyandmagnetic

~“I think you should grow your hair out.  Don’t you miss your long, luxurious golden locks? I’d kill for your hair.”

Originally posted by fyeahsaralance

~“What new inventions have you been working on? Can you please invent a program that does automatic background checks on my dating app matches?  Too many creeps out there. Speaking of creeps, that detective…”

Originally posted by queensarrow

~“Seriously, when are you and Mayor Handsome getting back together?  Better get your man before someone else does.”

Originally posted by bawl-main

~“Felicity, you are awesome. Want a hug?”

Originally posted by comehereiloveyou

 Feel free to add on to the list, guys! Make it as fun or serious as you want.

Some of my favorite artists on Tumblr (in no particular order):

@fenedhislasagna - gorgeous sculptures and drawings, and a genuinely funny person.

@roguebait - everything from gorgeously rendered paintings to cute and funny comics.

@projectnelm - beautiful colors and lighting.

@nk-illustrates - absolutely stunning use of color + cute animations.

@umabbasdoodles -  lovely artist who isn’t afraid to try new things and different styles. And a wonderful person to boot.

@shaken-veil - beautiful art and screenshots and just a fun person to follow.

@sirladysketch - everything from serious art to Solas as Steve Irwin. Sketch’s streams are also super fun.

@adenicy -  sweet heart and cute art.

@elenpilgrim - gorgeous portraits with great color.

@gowithnobleblood - aka @changelingsandothernonsense - beautiful art - I’m a bit partial to the portrait of my Aellin Lavellan.

@m-periwinkle - gorgeous use of light and a total sweetie-pie. Also, a bear with a sword. Need I say more?

@eristhenat - two words: portrait goals.

@ladymal - total sweetie learning to draw (and doing so at an astonishingly fast rate).

@cerulione-draws - aka @cerulione - beautiful and emotional artwork. Also a wonderful person who I admire the heck out of.

@where-willows-wail - screenshots that leave me speechless, plus super funny.

@salesart - aka @heysales - she has an eye for color that turns me green with jealously. Seriously gorgeous art with a very unique voice. Also, a total sweetie

@ghostrydersinthesky - the cutest little elf portraits you’ll ever see (and don’t let her tell you otherwise).

@vladimirka - beautiful and fun art, plus a sweet and funny person.

@kellinahasaship - great color and lines.

@nipuni - everything from cute Solavellan to epic Dread Wolf. And all impeccably done.

@nikranel - beautiful colors and hair.

@spiritofcuriosity - wonderful art with a real eye for animals. Also just an amazing person.

@lavellanlovebeautiful art and a wonderful person.

@allenvooreef - daily drawings alone are wonderful and rendered work is gorgeous.

@slayersangel - one of these days she’s going to post one of those amazing portraits she’s been doing and I’m just going to die from the beauty. Beautiful art and a great person.

@aekosia - aka @ambrosia-perivinca - doesn’t post nearly enough art, but it always makes me smile. Also a wonderful person who posts gorgeous stuff.

@kallielef - beautiful, beautiful, beautiful art. Wonderful streams. And a genuinely kind hearted person.

@niklisson - gorgeous use of color and wonderful range of style. Also, super funny.

@theresa-draws - beautiful color and linework.

@oddmoy - beautiful use of color and unique artistic voice.

@swevenfox - unique art with an amazing use of light and color.

I’m 100% certain I missed several people, so if I didn’t tag you I’m sorry. If I’ve reblogged your work before, there is a good chance you were meant to be on this list.

Electric: Part 2

Request by anon: Hai! If your requests are open can you do a fic were the reader, Sam and Dean are on a hunt but it goes terribly wrong. During the hunt reader gets electrocuted (almost like how Dean did in s1) while hunting the monster. She collapses/ passes out. And the boys do everything they can to get her to a hospital quickly? Whether she survives or not is up to you!

Word Count: 2994

Warnings: None

Part 1

Dean woke up when sunlight streamed in through a crack in the curtains. He squinted and rolled over to see what time it was.


He groaned and sat up, glancing over at the other bed. Surprisingly, Sam was still asleep, though Dean couldn’t blame him. To Sam, being with you was more important than a run or getting up early with the sun or whatever the hell he did before the sun made its appearance. It was so obvious that his little brother had a crush on you, no matter how many times he adamantly denied it. You were a little more difficult to read, though Dean was pretty sure that you felt the same way. Once this hunt was over, Dean was going to have to do something about that situation. Sam needed a little push to get over his insecurities. You were definitely not like all of the other women he fell for; you could handle it.

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Answering questions about Kirkmall

So as I totally accidentally published the Christmas at Kirkmall ask (Accident because I like to try and draw stuff for my asks and i just wanted to write down all my thoughts on it to draw then when adding tags it published and i was like oh, thats what that button does, oops hahaha. I figured it only fair that i go in and publish all of them, even if its only with words! (I still want to try and draw everything even still tho haha)

Also! I just want to thank everyone for being so sweet and taking the time to send super rad messages and thoughts and all that <3 And also the likes and reblogs and super hilarious and sweet tags <333 You are all too rad! 

But anyway presenting LONG POST OF TALKING! 

I really need to draw Hawke punching more old people in the face. Like? That would make everyones life so much richer and more fulfilled?? 

Haha probably something to that effect! And then that would go into the whole like hacking social media accounts can get SO DANGER. much like magic??? idk but yeah mages r totally nerds and the templars would b the jock equivalent yes totes

YESSSS. That is coming and in the works! Just everyone hipsters at the mall because yessssss <3 Also for me everyone in Inquisition like, fits a modern au so perfectly 

Oh Hawke definitely is. If anything she is the self proclaimed Champion of Kirkmall because she is vain and enjoys empty titles as much as Admiral Captain Isabela haha however everyone for some reason seems to love her and ask for her help with every stupid problem. No one has any idea why, but she gets the job done so no one really complains and is like omg ok we will call you champion w/e

Yesssssssssssssssss. Just yes. To all of this, so good! So accurate!

Oh of course hahaha omg basically <3 Flemeth just randomly appears everytime Morrigan trynna be cool and is just. So much cooler than her. Also for some reason I really want all of the Origins crew to be in a band, and Flemeth made Morrigan join even though she was like omg mom no they are all losers. (Leliana is like vocals and some hipster ass instrument like the ukelele, Zevran can be handsome sexy guitar, Morrigan can play bass, the Warden can sing and be lead guitar and Alistair can be like, triangle. For it is a hipster band you see. He insists to everyone he plays the drums quite well, Morrigan is like shutup u r triangle loser)

I think he would be a jack of all trades creative writing wise. Varric would try his hand at everything books, comics, EVERY GENRE UNDER THE SUN. Also omg Cullen would totally be in one of those just being a huge noodle haired nerd who is Merediths yes man.  As time goes on and he grows as a person he is less yay Meredith and more like, Imma work in this nerdy ass game store that sells those fancy stone chess sets and all those stupid mind puzzles and Hawke is like, oh my goooooddddd why are you so boring stillllll.

All of these kind messages and thoughtful comments have drastically improved the quality of my life. <3 but like no seriously they totally have and all of you guys are the greatest and so sweet you deserve every happiness :)))))) (that sounds so dumb but like, dude for real you are all collectively the greatest!)


Fic: The Hot Parents

Title: The Hot Parents
Pairings/Characters: Original Characters, Tentoo; Tentoo/Rose
Rating/Warnings: G
Words: 465
Summary: “I sincerely hope you are not wanking to my mum,” Jack warns. “That’s gotta be some kind of rule. No wanking to your friends’ parents.”
Notes: Inspired by some comments I read on Tumblr ages ago about how Tentoo and Rose would totally be “the hot parents” in their children’s circles/schools. Starring their youngest, teenage son Jack.
Also at: AO3

“Dude, your mum’s hot.”

 Jack Tyler chokes on his Vitex. “What?”

 “Your mum,” Andrew repeats slowly, “is hot.”

 “Oh my god, Andrew, you can’t just say that to a guy,” Zoe groans, punching Andrew in the arm.

 “What? It’s true. Mrs. Tyler’s a hottie. Have you seen the legs on her?”

 “That’s my mum you’re talking about,” Jack says.

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Translation: WU March 2016 - Hikaru x Inoo x Arioka crosstalk

Please credit if sharing, reposting, retranslating, quoting.

They talk about girls, and dates.

**Inoo: Yes, I have a sister two years younger than me!  >> i edited this part due to a typo so sorry!
Also do note that Hikaru’s sister is apparently 9 years older than him as he said before, but not sure why it became 5 years in this magazine.
this interview is confusing me.

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anonymous asked:

omg i have fic idea, lydia has been staying around stiles' one night because she can't handle being alone and when she goes to have a shower, theres just constant bantering over the shampoos and water and stiles offers her one of his oversized plaid tops and he falls in love with her all over again.

oh hey i’m alive. and i’ve written something for your request, anon! 

here is a cutesy, fluffy fic. for some reason i just love picturing stiles and lydia doing mundane things like sleepovers and borrowing each other’s clothes and shampoo. it’s just so damn adorable.

enjoy! xo 

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The Worst

I really don’t know what this is, I just was thinking about Jared and Colin and Sean all hanging out and somehow I got to thinking about Henry growing up and this happened?

The Worst

“Is that your dad?”

Move in day has been pretty hectic. Henry has spent the last hour moving boxes up to his room with the help of Killian and Gramps, and to be perfectly honest it’s mostly just been a battle to get the two of them to stop carrying up boxes two and three at a time in some kind of macho competition they still haven’t outgrown.

Killian’s in one of those double vee teeshirts that make Henry want to gouge his own eyeballs out (the man’s chest hair must be allergic to being covered, or something, seriously), and Gramps is in nothing but a wife beater, the sun shining bright and hot in the parking lot, and his RA is hardly the first person to notice the two of them.

He actually saw a girl fan herself as Gramps walked through the quad, and honestly, how is this his life?

"Uh, no, that’s my grrrr - uncle.”

(His life is so weird, weird weird weird, he used to think it was so cool but who the hell would believe him if he told them David Nolan was his grandfather - oh and also Prince Charming, no, seriously, like, the actual, real life husband of Snow White - and his mom is around here somewhere, probably figuring out the amount of time it takes to break in and sneak past security, or cataloging every emergency exit on campus. Weird.)

“Huh. What about him?”

She nods her head at Killian, who is gulping down a bottle of water, leaning against the car, his hair all over the place and WHAT EVEN IS HIS LIFE??

That is my stepdad.” My mom calls him Hook, as in Captain Hook, also a real person, me, no, I’m not crazy, I’m totally normal. - things he doesn’t say.

"Huh,” she says again, totally distracted, eyes doing that thing where Henry call tell they’re undressing the object of their intense interest.

“Yeah, uh, they told me to come to you for, like, maps and stuff?”

She blinks, turning to look at him finally, her cheeks a little pink as she explains orientation, and meet and greets, and the hundred other things she’s probably rattled off to freshman for the last three semesters.

Henry thanks her and stomps off across the parking lot. Killian is halfway into the backseat of the car, yanking at a box of books in annoyance, grunting at the thing, and at least three girls and two amused mothers are watching his progress.

“Seriously, you are the worst.”

Killian knocks his head on the door frame as he turns to look at Henry, and as he rubs at it Henry can’t help but feel a little gleeful about it.

“I’m sorry, lad?”

“Can you stop putting on a show for all the sex-starved moms already dealing with empty nest syndrome.”

"You tend to use incomprehensible slang when upset, my boy. What have I done to offend now?”

(Henry may or may not have yelled at him on the drive in for singing along to a rap song on the radio. With the windows down.)

"Just. Stop putting on a freaking show. Put on a scarf or something.”

"Ah. I see. I can’t help it that I’m rakishly handsome, young Mr. Mills.”

Henry rolls his eyes at the name. “You’re doing this on purpose!” he says in a stage whisper, and Killian’s eyebrow shoots up. He looks appropriately apologetic as realization takes hold, and lets out a deep sigh.

“It’s perfectly alright to be nervous,” he tells Henry, reaching blindly into the backseat again. All he comes up with is a beat up old henley Henry had thrown back there, like, four months ago that is probably at least two sizes too small and no. just…no. He shakes his head. “Whatever. Why do you always have to wear such tight pants?”

"Oh, its my trousers now too?” Killian is amused, now, and that stupid smirk is going to turn one of these poor freshman girls into mush, damn it.

"Shut up.”

Killian’s gaze darts up and softens a moment before an arm drops across his shoulders.

“What did you do now?” his mom asks, staring across at him, and Killian smiles.

“Apparently I’ve suddenly decided to toss you off in favor of using my low cut shirt - your mothers pick, by the way - and tight jeans to seduce the, ah…sex starved mothers gathered here today.”

“Let me know how that goes for you.”

“Wonderfully so far, if Henry is to be believed.”

“Well, I can’t really blame them. They’ve probably never seen that much chest hair on display all at once outside of an underwear ad.”

Henry groans, ducking under Emma’s arm. “You guys are seriously the worst.”


“So, uh…your step dad.”

“I’d rather work on this project like we’re supposed to.”

“Yeah, sure, totally, it’s just…are he and your mom married?”



“I hear that word a lot when talking about my step dad.”

“It’s just, why aren’t they married?”

“My mom is weird.”

“Yeah, but doesn’t she love him?”

“Can we just work on the project?”

“I mean, because, hypothetically, completely unrelated to me at all, if I was shacking up with that, I would put a ring on that so fast -.”

"Oh my god, my mom and Killian are literally True Loves, you actually can’t get any closer to it than those two unless you’re, like, Snow White and Prince Charming, and my mom could kill you with a toothpick for even having dirty thoughts about him - can we please work on the project now?”


“Wait so… you have two moms.”

Amelia is nice. Amelia is one of his better friends, a girl he can sit and talk with and laugh with and have incredibly serious conversations with without it getting weird, and he’s kind of surprised that it’s taken this long for her to get to his family tree.

“Regina is my adoptive mom. Emma is my birth mom.”

“And you have two stepdads.”

“Killian and Robin, yeah.”

“And you have an aunt and an uncle named Mary and…”

“Mary Margaret and David.”

“Mary Margaret is a mouthful, why doesn’t she just go by Mary?”

Henry shrugs.

“And you’ve got a stepbrother named Roland. And a sister named Maia - Regina’s kid, right?”


“And your father…”

“He died. A while ago.”


Henry sighs again, fingers slipping through tendrils of grass as they sit together on a patch of grass under the big oak tree.

“And your grandfather. Gold? And he’s married to a woman named Belle?”


“Seriously, how do you keep track of everyone. Thanksgiving must be horrendous.”

“You don’t even want to know. They’re the worst.”


Two weeks before finals Killian and his mom drive down to see him, and when he gets the text that they are an hour out, his mind instantly goes catastrophic, thinking about witches and curses and portals and ogres, and when he meets them out on the quad he’s already gone through half a dozen apocalyptic scenarios.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes?” His mom is acting strange, eying Henry uncertainly, her hands tucked into her coat - she hadn’t even hugged him, yet.

“Guys. I literally have fifty pages to write, three tests to study for, and a final project that’s worth forty percent of my grade. I love you but unless the world is coming to an end I don’t know why this couldn’t wait til winter break.”

“Take a study break, lad, and have dinner with us.”

Henry narrows his eyes suspiciously but they don’t budge, so he just shrugs his shoulders and tells them he’ll be back in a few minutes. If his mom wants to buy him food that doesn’t come from the school cafeteria he is all for it.

They go to a steakhouse, and by the time they’ve all ordered and Henry has slurped down his first Coke he’s ready to bash his head in because they still haven’t said anything.



“Why are you here? Is it witches? A curse? A wraith? Oh my god you’re pregnant.”

It comes out in a single breath, and Killian’s eyes widen to saucers. Okay. Maybe not pregnant.

“We just wanted you to hear this in person before anyone told you.”

Are you dying?”

“We’re getting married!” Killian cuts in looking as stressed as Henry feels, and, yeah, maybe he was being a little dramatic.


His mom huffs indignantly. “We came all this way to tell you we were getting married and all you have is ‘oh’?”

“Well…yeah. I mean, Killian asked me for permission like, six months ago, I figured it would take him less time than that to actually ask you.”

“Thank you, Henry, I had hoped to keep that bit to myself, but please, tell your mother all about how long I’ve been carrying around the ring.”

“Well, I told you six months ago she’d say yes, it’s not like this is all shocking news to me. You seriously drove all the way down here to tell me you stopped procrastinating?”

Killian’s jaw twitches, his fingers tapping out a shaky rhythm against the table, and Emma sighs, reaching her hand across the table, the intricate knotting of the engagement ring he’d helped Killian pick out shining in the candlelight.

“We missed you, kid.”

Okay. They’re maybe not the worst parents to have.


“You guys are the best. Seriously. The best. I love you forever and ever and I will never ever say anything snarky to you ever again.”

Killian looks disbelieving even as Henry hugs him again. “Never again?”

“Well, not today.”

His laughter booms across the loft, and Henry stares at the keys in his hand, beaming at both of his moms, who are looking rather pleased with themselves.

“Just to remind you - grades stay up, no felonies are committed, and you pay all the bills except rent.”

"No, yeah, I can do that. I’m not even gonna throw a party until -.” Yeah, no, that’s the patented Swan look of punishment. “Until never.”

“Quite the save, mate.”

Henry opens his mouth to respond, and then snaps it back shut, and Killian gives him an amused half smile, clearly surprised Henry managed to quell the comeback.

“You guys are seriously the best,” he tells them as he goes in for another round of hugs.


"Worst. Worst worst worst.”

Killian had been helping with moving him into the house they’d rented out for him close to campus, and the sorority across the street had taken notice of him some time ago, but this…this is grossly uncool.

It’s the last week before school starts, the dog days of summer, and they haven’t had a heat like this in a while, and there are literally thirty girls watching his step father from lounge chairs across the street while he mows the lawn, and his mom is laughing hysterically at his reaction to the whole ordeal.

“God, just put on a freaking shirt, Killian, you are the worst!”

Bleach 685 “A Perfect End” Review (AKA the HAIR Chapter)

Okay, let’s make a deal, shall we? I know many of you (myself included) are incredibly disappointed about the abrupt end, about all the questions left unanswered etc, but until the series concludes, I have decided to enjoy as much of it as I can.

There will be ample time for complaints once the dust settles; for now, I just want to enjoy the ride till the end.

Not that we shouldn't criticize what happens in 685 and 686 in a couple of weeks, but I’m going to be focusing on the what we’re getting instead of everything we’re not, sound good?

Here we go then.

(also, does the title sound ominous to anyone else, or just me? >___>;;;)

(review under the cut)

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+ beatjxggle

“Urgh, would you please get comfortable already? You’ve been wiggling for the past twenty minutes.” Joel’s voice was a low mutter, and likely muffled by the pink of Nonon’s hair. Seriously, take her advice to let the track he was working on wait till morning and actually get some sleep, and it’s like she can’t do anything other than wiggle against him. The worst part? He totally believed it was on accident.

          ❝But it’s not myyyyy fault.❞

The pink haired girl whined back, once again switching sides of her body. It was worse with her — because she didn’t have much weight on her, she had to shift first her lower body && then her upper body. Therefore, her wiggling was much more abundant. She scratched her head, shimmied herself closer to him and laid her head on his chest. 

         ❝S’not my fault you sleep on a rock.❞

anonymous asked:

paradoxspace(.)com(/)night-at-the-100dseum(/)4 (remove parenthesis) Sorry if this has already been brought to your attention or if it comes off paranoid. Have you noticed and are you okay with the new Paraspace comic copying your style (esp. for Karkat)? It might be unintentional, but Karkat's teeth and hair curling around his face are totally your design. But you reblogged it so I'm assuming you like the comic itself. Sorry really wanted to check in with you about the style issue.

Oh my god, wow, yeah. That is 100% absolutely my design for Karkat holy crap. 

It’s okay, we worked hard to solve this mystery and caught the Phantom Kadoodle! Now we’ll see who this ghastly thief REALLY is!



not-a-meme  asked:

Can you make a mini fic for Dipifica of 17 and 20?

So sorry about how long it took me to do this! (WISDOM IF YOU SEE THIS I WILL GET TO YOUR FIC SOON…) It was really enjoyable writing this since I haven’t done this ship before. Hope this is okay. You can always request something else if it isn’t. ~

17. Things you said that I wish you hadn’t
20. Things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear.

1200 words of somewhat angsty Dipifica up ahead (coughwithahappyendingcough). They’re like 17ish in this fic. Rated T for swearing and…meanness.

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