Renji commands, only once, steel glint of his shadowed eyes boring into her skull. She shows no fear; lets fury in her lungs. As she shifts her stance her feet meet the resistance of rubble: blown-away slate; Seireitei bricks.
Renji’s face bleeds feral; his zanpakuto rearing above her, jaw set and muscles tensed as she rights herself from ashen ground. The rain turns the charcoal to sludge; black paint. It stains her skin in slate bruises as it batters down on them both. Further, in the distance, lighting fires.
“No.” She repeats, drawing a trembling palm to a standstill and her other tightly around Shirayuki’s blackened hilt. “No.” She has known monsters all her life. She has seen them, and been them, and killed them, and this- the man behind her- is not one.
Renji is unconvinced.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! He’s out of control- It—is out of control, and we need to stop it- kill it, maybe. Half of Seireitei is gone and you think that somewhere in there there’s still something human?!” He bites off words, angry; gnashing. Rukia is reminded of Rukongai stray dogs.
Loyalty drives her stupidly blind. She knows whatever gnarled path her fate has run is carrying her downstream yet she cannot bring herself to retreat.
Renji starts forwards, Zambimaru bearing a sterling glint as it catches the moon; snakes towards her ankles.
“Renji,” she begins, warning rumbling from somewhere guttural in her throat; muscles forming a taught, active live-wire as she readies the First Dance with her breath- and then the next thing she feels is a palm to her back.
“Thanks for the save-“
The voice rasps, half a breath missing; choking off, battered body puppeteered by some ungodly force. She had heard the break of bone just moments before; knows too well that one cannot stand on severed tendons. The air is sour; it makes her eyes fill with bleach and her legs quake. The voice is worse. Tipping off into a cadence too much like him - familiar enough to cave her gut with an old, unwelcome feeling. Her heart leaps to her throat, functions frozen at her side; supplanted by a cold reaching terror that threads deliberately into her bones.
“Save-“ She spits, to rid herself of the words.
There’s a crack, a flash of black, the cloying scent of copper to salted skin, and then, quiet.
its 3:30am and I just woke up in a cold sweat because I realized noragami’s plot is literally a joke.
hiyori’s name is one syllable away from hiyoko, the japanese word for chick, i.e. a baby chicken. she becomes a half ayakashi and is then able to see beings from both the normal world and the far shore, as well as astral project herself and travel to places of the far shore that normal humans can’t. she gains the latter ability after running across the street to push yato out of the way of oncoming traffic.
noragami’s plot is literally: why did the chicken cross the road? to get to the other side.
Mark: Drum Major. Everyone is supposed to watch him, but no one is really paying attention. RenJun: Sax player. Section Leader, doesn’t complain about neck strap tan line anymore, and gets emotional whenever someone compliments their section. Jeno: Mellophone player. Gets along with the other players and his best friend is an annoying trumpet player. Trying his best to ignore people calling his Mellophone a big trumpet. HaeChan: Drum Line. For some reason likes to HIT EVERYTHING AS HARD AS HE COULD TO ANNOY EVERYONE. Jaemin: Your Typical Trumpet player. Loud as FUCK and think he’s better than everyone else. ChenLe: Clarinet player. Doesn’t actually know what’s going on, but they’re trying their best and somehow is the only one who’s five measures ahead of everyone. Jisung: That one guy playing the flute and likes to make puns.
Hi :] I followed you recently, and I'm glad I did. I like your Bucky cuddle drabbles, and I think you're really talented. If it's not too much trouble, could you maybe do a headcannon for dating pre-serum Steve? Thanks 💜
Thank you, love! You’re too sweet <3 I hope you like this. (I don’t think headcanons are supposed to be nearly 2k but oops my hands slipped. Thanks to @sarahwroteathing for being an angel and always helping me with everything.)
Dating pre-serum Steve
It started off a little weird. Steve’s been your best friend since you met him. But he was laughing really hard at something you said–so hard he had tears in his eyes. Something bubbled up in you, and you leaned in real close and stole a quick kiss from his plush lips.
He stops immediately. Well, that’s new. He’s looking at you with those deep blue eyes, waiting for an answer…but you don’t have one. It was an impulse. Why had you done that?
Steve licks his bottom lip subconsciously and scoots close to you, going slowly so you have a chance to tell him if you don’t want this. But you suddenly realize you do–you want him with every fibre of your being. His kiss is hesitant, still waiting for you to push him away. After the initial shock of the situation, you kiss him back more surely.
He shows you off all the time.
On your first date, Steve takes you dancing because that’s what he’s supposed to do, right? That’s what Bucky does with all the dames he takes out. Despite all the practicing he and Bucky do before your date, Steve is so self conscious. He doesn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of you. But, you see him fumbling as he shoots you shy, nervous smiles when he misses a step. Your heart swells with affection for him as you decide to pretend to be equally hopeless. You trip over his foot a couple times, go for a spin when there clearly wasn’t a call for one. Steve loosens up as you both make up outrageous dance moves for the ones that can’t be done.
Bucky gets wind of it and refuses to go on a double date with this trainwreck of a couple until you get some dance lessons.
Bucky insists to teach you both himself in the boys’ apartment. He’s moved the furniture around to accommodate a dancefloor. You’re a pretty decent dancer, truth be told; but you keep up appearances for Steve’s sake. That, and it’s actually a lot more fun to botch dance moves with Bucky than you would have initially thought. The teasing was well worth hearing your man laugh until he couldn’t breathe. Literally. Poor baby agitated his Asthma more while laughing with you and Bucky than anything else.
Steve will realize one day that he’s still talking to you like you’re just his best friend Y/N. He gets a bit self conscious about it, and is determined to treat you more like a lady. You’re his girl, after all, and you should be treated like a queen. He stutters ‘more appropriate’ compliments out, blushing as soon as he sees the questioning look on your face. When you ask him what’s going on, he tells you that he’s trying to treat you like a girlfriend. You giggle, kissing his cheek and making him blush again. “You don’t have to worry about that, Stevie. I fell for you because you were my friend.”
Steve compliments you all the time. His goal is to make you blush at least once a day. Some days, though, it gets to be too much and you have to kiss him just to shut him up.
Just because Steve is you boyfriend now, doesn’t mean you don’t still hang out like you did before. You, Steve, and Bucky still go down to the creek and skip rocks together. You all still go to the railroad and have adventures in your abandoned railway car. Just because you and Steve steal kisses when you think Bucky isn’t looking, doesn’t change that the three of you are still best friends.
His notebooks are full of sketches and doodles of you, of your individual features. There’s a lot of your eyes, of your smile…conveying every emotion between the nose scrunch you do when he compliments you, to the little frown that pulls at your lips when Bucky says something unsavory (it doesn’t happen often, Bucky’s usually a gentleman around you), to the dreamy look you get in your eyes when you see a mother pushing her baby in a stroller.
One day, Steve is so caught up in watching you as you watch kids play at the park. “I’m gonna marry you.” He blurts it out with such sincerity, he blushes deeply. You just smile at him coyly. A sweet laugh falls from your lips and it makes Steve tumble further into the void. You spend the rest of the day proposing to Steve in crazy ways while he laughs, “Shaddup, Dollface.”
When he gets sick during the winter after his mom passes, you refuse to leave his side. He tells you that you’re gonna get sick, too, if you keep hanging around him; but, you don’t care. You and Bucky get scared for a couple of days. You both think it could be a possibility that this is the illness that will finally claim Steve’s life. But the little runt always proves you both wrong.
Steve’s such a sap about it. “I only made it because you stayed with me. I guess I have to marry you, now. You’re the only thing keeping me alive.” You’re so relieved that you’re crying and laughing so hard you have to bury your face in his chest. When you finally calm down, you place a delicate kiss on his forehead and smile fondly at him. “You’re darn right you do, you chucklehead.”
Steve’s gotten into less fights being with you. You’re so in sync with him that you know what makes his blood boil. His righteousness has bled into your being, and you can’t help but mouth off to any bully that you two come across. Even when they continue with their wrongdoing, you refuse to back down until they stalk off with their tail between their legs. Steve always goes a little starry eyed when this happens.
When the war breaks out, you know Steve will want to enlist and it makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. You always hope and pray that he’ll get denied, and you’ll thank whatever deity was listening when he comes back with a sullen look on his face and rejection paper in his hand. You tell him that they don’t know what they’re missing out on. He launches into a speech about how he should be out there defending what’s his. He has so much patriotism, it moves you. You only feel a little guilty for being selfish and wanting to keep him home, safe.
When Bucky gets drafted, it’s hard on all of you. Steve tries to enlist again, and he comes home with the biggest grin on his face. Your stomach drops when you see the stamp of approval on his forms, but you smile and hug him because you know this is what he wants. When he lets you go, he looks at you seriously. “I know you’re scared, but they’re giving me a chance. I want to go out there and defend my country..defend my girl.” He brushes your hair away from your face. “And–and, well…” He stutters and fumbles to get something out of his pocket. “I want to know that you’ll still be here when I get back.” He holds a ring between his fingers, your breath leaves you completely. “So, Y/N, will you marry–?”
You don’t give him the opportunity to finish, pressing kiss after kiss to his lips as he slips the ring onto your finger.
When you take him to the train station, he kisses you longingly, knocking the breath out of you. Steve tells you he’ll write as soon as he can. The train starts moving, he almost misses it because he doesn’t want to leave you. As soon as he hops on, he yells, “I love you!” The goofy grin on his face makes you smile through your tears and you stay rooted on the spot until long after the train has left your sight.
Weeks pass and you don’t hear anything from Steve. No letters. No calls. You’re worried. Who wouldn’t be? That is, until you see the propaganda films of Captain America. He looks dreamy. So strong, so sure, so..familiar?
You’re in the middle of a theater when you realize that Captain America is Steve. Your fiancee, Steven Grant Rogers, is Captain America. You nearly pass out from the shock. You immediately go out and buy every paper that has news about Captain America in it.
It’s about four days after that when you finally get a call from him. He sounds so happy, so relieved to hear your voice before you go crazy. You ask him all kinds of questions, hardly waiting for a response before launching into another set of questions. “Doll! Doll!” he calls through the phone when he can hear you’re about to hyperventilate. “I’m okay. Let me tell you what happened.”
And he does. He tells you everything that’s happened since he left five months ago: the experimental procedure, traveling the country to sell bonds, Bucky’s capture, the very unauthorized rescue mission. He tells you that he’s part of a specialized group called the Howling Commandos. You listen, absolutely enraptured until he tells you that he has to go. He tells you he’ll call again soon.
Steve calls you weekly while he’s in the army. His calls become the highlight of your week.
You still collect newspapers with Captain America and the Howling Commandos news.
It’s late September 1945 when Steve and Bucky finally come home. You see Bucky first and launch into his arms, kissing his cheek, telling him how happy you are that he’s home. A throat clears beside you, and your jaw drops at the sight of your fiancee. Yes, you’d seen him in propagandas and newspaper articles, but seeing this new Steve in the flesh was something you’d have to get used to.
His smile is the same, though, and it melts your insides. You release Bucky and slowly make your way over to Steve, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him tightly into your embrace. His face is buried in your neck, strong arms wrapping around you and lifting you from the ground. You’re both so ecstatic that you’re crying. You’re pressing kisses wherever you can reach while he tells you how much he’s missed you, how he’s ready to marry you, start a family with you.
You two wind up going to the courthouse that day with Bucky as your witness and marry your best friend.
@thememime first of all THANK u for enjoying my claw paws i love drawin them oh so much
now let me think,, how do i actually,,,,,,…..draw them….,, ,
hmmmmmm uuuhhhhhhhhhh uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhh
ok to tell u the truth when i draw the claw paws its 100% muscle memory after drawing my dragon oc on every sheet of paper i came into contact with in high school, so actually thinkin abt the process is like ?? uhmmmmhhh well you squiggle it uuh
its not exactly a science i guess, and in retrospect its probably an anatomical bastardization, but i just go with what feels right bro. its kind of like a pattern or a rhythm.
i generally stick with three distinct knobs, a knuckle, another one, and another one after that second one. otherwise its about your line of action and where u want to pull the weight. oh! and i like to let the claws act as an extension of the hand, i give them bulk and weight as well, and they sorta flop around wherever they feel like goin
and of course there are 8,109,553,449 variations in how ya wanna stylize based on the exaggeration of your curves and angles, also by adding knobby joints and wrinkles! wrinkles are fun
but idk man. tbh ive just been kinda bullshitting it the entire time. please dont slap me with pizza dough
Summary: “And then, Louis’ eyes met the man’s face, and well. He was young. He had such a big smile there were two dimples sinking into his cheeks–you could probably fit an ocean in there. And the eyes. Bright, comical, stupid green. He had a skin-colored hearing aid in his right ear. And then Louis realized this must be him. This must’ve been Steve’s new patient.
"And yes. Louis was rightly fucked.”
or the short story/one shot au in which louis is deaf, harry is also deaf, and they meet by chance in the pediatric ward of mass eye and ear.
Summary: There’s something about Louis Tomlinson that makes Harry feel unhinged. It’s in the other man’s stare, in the way he looks at Harry like he knows he’s hiding something. Like he’s not really all he says he is.
Harry’s not so sure it’s fear he’s feeling. Maybe it’s something deeper. Ever since Louis walked into his house, he’s felt on edge. He’s just being himself after all, and that’s usually enough to get just about anyone to drop their pants. But…it’s clearly not working on Louis Tomlinson. It dredges up something oily and unpleasant inside Harry. He doesn’t like it.
He’s got to lock that shit down tight.***
Harry knows, objectively, that he shouldn’t try to get his ghostwriter into bed. He knows. But…he finds it hard to resist temptation when Louis waltzes into his home and his life and turns everything upside down. And, as it turns out, Louis might just need a little turning upside down too.
Summary: “Harry, I’m serious,” Liam continued, still holding the rose. “Louis’ so fucking gone over you, and he’s rich. He could literally be your sugar daddy, and we wouldn’t have to live like this anymore!”
“Are you done?” Harry asked, his words inaudible as he spoke through a mouth stuffed with untoasted bread. He pointed behind himself, over his shoulder as he backed out of the kitchen, nearing the hallway. “Because I have to take a shower…”
“You’re impossible,” Liam said dejectedly, before throwing the rose back into the bucket and leaving out of the apartment with a grunt.
Harry is wholly convinced he’s quite literally a sad excuse for a young adult, but this doesn’t seem to stop the “boy next door” from developing the world’s biggest crush on him.
Just as he says that, Louis looks up to see a man at a small table, alone and perched on a stool, holding a cup of coffee. Instead of drinking his coffee, he’s openly gawking at Louis.
“What are you looking at?"Louis addresses him sharply.
He’ll be damned if he’s the one made to feel embarrassed. This is Liam’s intervention. On second thought though, this man is quite attractive. Brunette curls, amazing jawline, big hands and even better arms by the looks of his biceps bursting out of that black t-shirt.
"I mean, hi.”
AU based on that episode of Friends where Monica makes sex noises when she gets massaged. Harry and Louis meet at a coffee shop at the expense of Liam’s embarrassment and Louis gets well and truly wooed by Harry’s dating abilities.
Summary: So, where are you headed?” Liam asked, not wanting to sit in awkward silence for their journey. It was twelve hours to Chicago, and that was far too long to sit and not chat with his fellow passenger in front of him.
“Chicago,” he answered, his blue eyes meeting Liam’s own. “It’s home. Been on the road for quite some time now, it’s the first time I’ll be able to sleep in my own bed in almost a month.”
Liam whistled. “You must be pretty excited.”
The man gave a soft smile, which made him look younger than Liam initially expected; he might even still be in his twenties. He wondered what kind of a life this man had led to look so tired until he smiled.
Or, it’s 1951, Harry is the owner of a music shop, and Louis is a traveling salesman making his way back home.