sorry just leaving this here

hiighnooning  asked:

Hello! I just wanted to say that I really love your art~ The facial expressions especially are so dynamic and really show character! I also like the way you color and shade, it's so soft ;A; I hope you're having a nice day? Don't stop being awesome :D

Look who’s cool. Hanzo with a Bubble Tea is cool. And you know who’s even cooler? YOU ARE! Thank you so much, darlin’!

Wholehearted , by TheMagicWord

AU. When superstar singer and winner of The Voice Louis Tomlinson tweets “Nothing worse than waking up with no milk for a cuppa !! Gutted” he doesn’t expect someone to bring him some. And he really doesn’t expect that someone to have bright green eyes, long curly hair, and (fucking) dimples.

Harry/Louis | 77k | famous-not famous | closeting | explicit (kind of share that)

He pressed the screen to show him video from the gate. It wasn’t Liam. It was a boy - a man - he didn’t recognise. Long hair, half-hanging over his face as he looked down at his shoes. Louis squinted. Boots. He was wearing pointy-toed boots. Who the fuck was this? If it was a pap he was going to freak the fuck out.

“Yeah?” Louis said just as the boy looked up and directly into the camera and… Jesus Fucking Christ. His eyes. And his mouth. Louis’ dick twitched again and he pressed down on it with the heel of his hand. It was too long since he’d had sex. Much too long.

“Hey,” the boy said and smiled. “I, um, this is a bit weird.”

His voice. And his face. Louis opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out for a second. “Do I know you?” he managed, eventually. He sounded weird. Squeaky. He wanted to punch himself in the face.

“Ah no,” the boy said. And grinned. And Louis felt all his breath go out of him. He might even have groaned. Dimple. Massive fucking dimple.

“I’m Harry,” he said. “I’m, uh, I live just…” He turned and pointed over his shoulder. “I mean, not right there. Not that house. But a few houses down. I’m a neighbour, is what m’saying.”

“Right,” Louis said.

Harry dipped his head so his hair fell forward again and he scrubbed a hand through it before flipping his head back and there was that face again.

“Fuck,” Louis murmured.

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry said. “This was a bad idea. It was… My housemate sort of dared me to– I’ll just leave it here and go. Sorry.”

“Wait. What?” Louis said. “Leave what?”

Thanks to all the ridiculous security briefings he’d been given, his first thought was a bomb. And then he pictured a basket of kittens and what the fuck was even going on in his brain. (A basket of bombs? An exploding kitten?)

“Oh shit, yeah, sorry!” Harry said and grinned again and his face was just - Louis realised he was half-slumped against the hall wall - his face was incredible. Beautiful. Adorable. Harry held up a two litre bottle of milk. “We saw your tweet.”

manip by @melmanpur :)

I'm sorry

for all the times I can’t think of a things to say
for when I talk too much about things you clearly don’t care about
for when I don’t put in the effort we both know I could
for when I make it worse
for responding too quickly
for singing too loudly
for laughing too obnoxiously
for letting myself get so fat
for being too clingy
for not understanding
for trying to understand
for bothering you when you’re busy
for over reacting
for being bad at everything
for messing everything up
for not being able to hold a conversation

I’m so infinitely sorry for being me


why is it that you loathe us who teeter on the edge of nothing?

happy release day, 358/2 days (05/30/09 in japan) + happy birthday, me!

  • Friend: What are you thinking about?
  • Me: oh, nothing

betrayal sentence starters 

  • “ What are you saying? “
  • “ You… You lied to me? “
  • “ I trusted you! “ 
  • “ I never liked you anyway. “
  • “ I can’t believe you! “
  • “ I always hated you. “
  • “ How could you do this to me? “
  • “ What the hell are you doing? “
  • “ I can’t believe you’d do this to me. “
  • “ I thought we were friends! “
  • “ I thought you cared about me! “
  • “ I never really cared about you. “ 
  • “ You never really cared about me, did you? “
  • “ You’re a horrible person. “
  • “ I wish I never met you. “
  • “ I’m leaving. “
  • “ You meant the world to me. Did you know that? “
  • “ What happened to ‘ best friends forever? ‘ “ 
  • “ What happened to us? “
  • “ I… I’m so sorry. “
  • “ All of this was just a lie? “
  • “ You’re just going to leave me here? “
  • “ Stop. Just shut up. I don’t want to hear it anymore. “
  • “ T-This is all some sort of twisted joke, right? You’re not really doing this? “
  • “ You’re lying. You have to be lying. Please tell me you’re lying. “ 
  • “ I only have one question. Why? “
  • “ I thought I was worth more to you than this. “ 
  • “ I guess I hate you too, now. “ 
  • “ I was never really your friend. “ 

anonymous asked:

7 for Klance, preferably with Lance saying the line.

7. “Because nobody cares about me!”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Keith demanded

Lance froze, fingers tightening on the bag slung over his shoulder and foot hovering over the interior of the pod he had been loading. “I uh…just taking a quick fly.”

“Without Blue?”

Lance shrugged, twisting to give Keith a weak smile. “Didn’t want to bother her.”


He slumped and let the bag hit the ground, eyes cast downwards. “How did you know?”

Keith frowned, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning on his left foot. “I was with Red, and Blue just started freaking out in my head. She was worried, so I went…I went to check on you, and you weren’t in your room. So I checked the castle defenses and it said you were in the loading bay.”

Lance stared at him for a moment, unable to believe that Keith would go through that much effort just for him, and shook his head. “Whatever. I’m fine. I’m just…I’m just leaving.”

Keith stood up straight again, eyebrows furrowing together. “Why?”

Lance swallowed and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“For the love of Alfor, you dumbass, of course it matters!” Keith protested. “You’re a paladin of Voltron, you can’t leave for no reason! You’re not the only one who wants to go home, Lance! So you better give me a better answer than-”

“Because nobody cares about me!” Lance snapped, voice cracking and eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Because Pidge thinks I’m stupid and Shiro thinks I’m useless, Hunk is tired of me, and you just downright hate me, Keith, so yeah, I’m fucking leaving!”

He stopped, hands clenched at his side and chest heaving, and Keith could only stare in disbelief. Lance gave a harsh laugh and stepped back, fumbling his way into the pod and leaning down to grab his bag. “But what do you care?” he whispered rhetorically, his voice hoarse. “You’ll find a new paladin for Blue. Not like I’m useful anyway.”

Keith realized suddenly that Lance was actually turning to close the pod, and he lunged without thinking, grabbing Lance by the wrist and yanking him out the door with such force that they stumbled over each other and fell to the floor, Lance hovering over Keith. “What the quiznak?” Lance cried, scrambling to move.

Without hesitation, Keith flipped Lance, hard, so that he was sitting on top of the blue paladin’s stomach with his hands pressing Lance’s shoulders down. “You are not useless,” he hissed. 

Lance stopped fighting and lifted his gaze to Keith, shoulders slumping under Keith’s fingers. “What?”

The red paladin gulped and sat back a little, taking some of the pressure off of Lance’s shoulders. “You’re not useless,” he murmured, keeping his gaze locked on Lances. “And I don’t hate you, Lance. I never have.”

Lance studied him for a long moment, looking so vulnerable, so lost, that Keith forgot himself and leaned over, pressing his lips to Lance’s firmly, hands steadying himself on either side of Lance’s head. Lance jolted in surprise under him but lifted his hands, curling them into Keith’s mullet and pulling him back. “Dude,” he managed to croak. 

Keith burned, instantly tumbling off of Lance and backing away, getting to his feet and holding his hand to the back of his neck. “I’m…s-sorry. Please, just…please don’t leave. We need you here. I…I need y-”

Lance cut him off with a single stride and a well aimed right hook to the face. Keith gaped, clapping a hand to his mouth, and shot Lance a look of irritation. “What the hell, man! A simple ‘I’m not interested’ would have been fine!”

“That,” Lance glowered, “was for tackling me and kissing me without my permission. And this-”

He pulled Keith up, fingers curled into the lapel of his jacket, and hesitated, eyes going soft. “This is for stopping me from leaving.”

His fingers drifted up to slide through Keith’s hair, and his mouth was softer this time, more pliable, open to Keith’s soft gasps and tongue. He tugged him as close as possible, until finally he couldn’t breathe and was forced to pull back. Keith stared at him, wide eyed. “You…you…”

Lance gave a sheepish smile. “Sorry?”

“No, no, it’s…obviously it’s okay. I just…”

Keith frowned and straightened the collar of Lance’s jacket thoughtlessly, eyes wandering. “I’m sorry. I should’ve paid more attention.” He looked up again, meeting Lance’s gaze. “You’re important, Lance. And I’m sorry we never told you that. We all care about you a lot, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t imagine being stuck in space without you.”

Lance shuddered and nodded, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead to Keith’s. “Thanks. I really…I really needed to hear that, I think.”

He opened his eyes again and gave Keith a small smile. “Help me unpack?”

Keith picked up the bag himself, slinging it over one shoulder and sliding his hand into Lance’s. “I’d love to.”


Part 1

A/N: Okay so universes may be colliding because of the gif of Barry Allen, but Marvel needs more speedsters.

The next day, Peter kept his eyes out for you literally at all times. He would wait by your locker, try to intercept you in the hallways, and even tried to wait outside your classes. He had no luck spotting you the entire day. Peter liked to reassure himself that you might just not be in for a completely different reason, but he knew why you weren’t at school.

The next thing Peter tried was going to your house with some of your work, just in case he needed an excuse. Your dad answered the door and smiled widely at the sight of Peter. He always liked to discuss any sort of science subject with Peter. “Hello, Peter,” your dad greeted, “Can I help you?”

Looking at your dad, Peter tried to imagine him years ago when he was saving the city with his speed. He wonders if he still has his powers. You mentioned your dad losing friends. Did the death of one of them compel him to give up on being a hero? Peter nodded swiftly, “I was wondering if Y/N was here? I have some things to give her.”

Your dad made a little face. “Sorry, Peter. You just missed her. You could leave it here if you want.” Peter didn’t miss a beat and simply smiled with a nod.

After some small talk with your dad, he excused himself, making up a lame reason involving Aunt May. Your dad just said bye and told him to be safe walking home. Peter began walking home, since he had no where to go really.

He’d always ask you how your dad was and you always responded with “Awesome.” Under different circumstances, Peter could almost imagine you laughing and saying, “I told you my dad was awesome!”

His phone buzzed when he was about halfway home. Mr. Stark was texting him. “We got a speedster. Might need you.” His eyebrows rose and he quickly ducked in an alley to change into his Spiderman suit.

By the time he got there, Mr. Stark led him to a cylinder with a constant blur. Steve, Natasha, and Wanda were there, all prepared for what might happen. He gulped and asked the obvious question, “This is the speedster?”

“Yep, they’re trying to break through the glass, but this-” Mr. Stark tapped the glass. “-is unbreakable to them.” He began walking around the glass cylinder. “The energy of running this fast is astronomical, so they should stop soon.”

Steve stated firmly, “I’m not a fan of this. They’re using their power for good and we’re treating them like a criminal.” Peter noticed the gender neutral pronouns and realized that they don’t know who you are.

“Okay, Mr. Social Justice, we’re simply keeping them here so they will talk to us,” Mr. Stark explained. Wanda seemed unsure of how she felt, but Natasha recognized that if they wanted to talk, this had to be done.

Peter didn’t say a word about the situation. He simply kept his mask on and got ready for the inevitable.

The blur in the cylinder slowed down slightly, until they could see a human figure. It was still moving very fast, but your shape was getting more defined. Then, they could see that you were a girl, even though you’re wearing your suit. Finally, you collapsed in the cylinder, having used up too much of your energy.

The action made Peter remember your dizzy spells as a child. Did you really have these powers your whole life? You did describe it as a gene. He stepped closer as Steve protested, “Get her out of there, Stark.”

You were taken to another room, with bindings on your limbs that were similar to the cylinder. Regaining the tiniest bit of energy, your eyes opened slowly, lazily taking in your situation. Once you spotted Spiderman, you scoffed, “Of course.” To the best of your ability, you sat up straighter. “Does anyone have any food?”

“Yeah, what do you want?” Wanda asked. She looked conflicted and almost hurt. You must have reminded her of Pietro.


Tony began placing the order. “How many, kid?”

“850 should be enough,” you answered truthfully, “Not factoring in guacamole and chips. To be easier, grab the granola bar in my bag that is laying around here somewhere.” Peter grabbed your bag and pulled out the granola bars you liked. He remembered you saying that they’re to combat the dizziness you used to get.

“What are they?” Mr. Stark asked curiously.

You immediately replied, “A more convenient form of 850 tacos.” Peter went over with the granola bar. Mr. Stark held him back for a second, but Peter pushed past him to get you food. Your hands were bound, so he fed you the granola bar, feeling much more relieved as the color returned to your face.

“Are you okay?” He asked as you continued to eat.

“What do you think?”

“Spiderling?” Peter looked back to Captain America, Wanda, Natasha, and Mr. Stark. They all looked terribly confused, but didn’t come any closer. He turned back to you and asked, “May I?” He gestured to your mask.

“I don’t get much of a choice,” you said as if you still had no energy. Peter chuckled at that before carefully placing his hands on your mask. While taking off your mask, he tried to be as gentle as he could. Your eyes met his and he could see all your emotions. Hurt, betrayal, sure. But there was all relief at the familiar face.

Peter took off his own mask so you could see his eyes. “Get her out of these binds.”

“Spiderling, I think you need to explain this to us,” Mr. Stark stood with his arms crossed. He had a stern expression on his face. “We’re not letting her go without an explanation.”

Steve looked at Mr. Stark, conflict evident in his eyes. He didn’t want a girl as young as you bound against your will. What did that make the Avengers seem like? He knew the morally right decision so he cut in, “Stark, we’ll be able to get an explanation without the binding.”

Stepping forward, Wanda stated, “I agree. Let her out.” While she was cautious, your powers reminded her of Pietro and made her more compassionate of your situation.

“This does seem rather unnecessary, Stark,” Natasha mentioned. She appeared to be bored, but you knew by her stance that it was simply an illusion, hiding her diligence.

Mumbling as he did so, Mr. Stark undid the bounds. You stood up suddenly, wondering if you should just run away, until Peter grabbed your hand reassuringly. He leaned in closer and whispered, “Please stay this time.” Peter even joked that you wouldn’t want the Avengers after you.

Your best option was to cooperate and then they might let you on your merry way. They led you to a place in the Avenger compound with a couch for everyone. Seeing the Avenger’s moving around comfortably, you guessed that it might be the living room. Peter sat down on the couch and patted on the spot next to him. Hesitantly, you sat down there.

Mr. Stark observed you carefully for thirty seconds before asking Peter, “Okay, Spiderling. She’s out. Now how do you know this one?”

“We share classes,” he answered in casual tone, “Like Chemistry and Algebra II.”

“So, she’s your friend?” Natasha checked. The two of you nodded. “You didn’t seem too surprised when her mask came off. Did you know who she is?”

“I only found out last night.”

Not liking how they were talking about you as if you weren’t in the room, you interjected, “You know I’m right here, right? I can answer questions.”

“Okay,” Steve asked, “What is your name?”

You looked at him in the eyes before replying, “Y/N Y/L/N, speedster, high school student, doesn’t appreciate being trapped like a fly in a glass.”

He nodded. “Fair enough. Sorry we had to meet in those conditions, miss Y/L/N.”

“How did you get your powers?” Wanda asked curiously. If more human enhancement was occurring, they had no idea what they would do.

“From my father,” you answered truthfully, “He got the powers from an induced lightning strike in the lab, which released dark energies.”

“Powers?” Mr. Stark echoed.

“I can run through walls and possibly travel through time.”

“Those are two very different things,” Peter pointed out. You shrugged. His eyes lit up and he perked up. “Wait, can you vibrate your molecules at an atomic level? That’s how you go through walls?” You nodded casually. “That is so cool,” he exclaimed.

After about ten minutes of questions, Mr. Stark requested to see your powers in action when he knew what to look for. You looked at Peter, who nodded, and agreed. You ran around for a while before the treadmill there physically broke.

Looking at your top speed, Wanda uttered, “That is faster than Pietro could even think of running.”

Speeding to her, you explained, “That’s because Quicksilver’s speed was simply enhanced. I get my powers from the Speed Force that was invented when my father was struck.” Once you started talking, you felt giddy that you had people to tell. These were the Avengers, so you assumed there’d be no consequences.

Finally, they wanted to test your reflexes. While they did simple things like throwing balls at you, the last test was the difficult one. It wasn’t a real gun, but it did shoot bullet like objects. It wouldn’t kill you, of course. Wanda distracted you by levitating balls in front of you while Natasha shot the gun.

Once you heard the gunshot, time stilled for you since you were moving so fast. You stopped with a close fist in front of your chest. The Avengers crowded around you to see you open the hand with the bullet.

“That is awesome!” Peter cheered. Mr. Stark seemed impressed and gave you a number to contact him about potential membership for the Avengers or to warn hi if you’re coming to a crime scene.

Your energy was through the roof and Peter seemed just as excited. “Y/N, your powers are the coolest things I’ve ever seen!” He exclaimed before hesitantly asking, “What happened to working alone?”

“I think if my friends are superheroes, they might have a better chance than humans,” you answered, “I was actually going to apologize today, but Mr. Stark found me first.”

“Oh okay,” Peter replied in a weird tone, “I would offer you a lift home, but looks like we’re walking.” He had taken his suit off at the compound.

Your eyes flashed mischievously. “I could give you a lift.”

“Wait, Y/N, the friction-” You accidentally cut him off when your grabbed his shirt and sped to his apartment. His shirt, because of the friction he was about to mention, caught on fire. Your eyes widened at the sight and Peter freaked out. Finally, he took the burning fabric off and you stomped it out. “As I was saying, the friction.” He gestured to the burned shirt.

“Sorry, Peter,” you said while cringing, “I better go before the situation gets any more awkward. See you tomorrow.” Using your super speed, you quickly kissed his cheek and ran home.

The force forced Peter to the ground and he felt the lightest pressure on his cheek. Smiling to himself, Peter entered his apartment, with no plan on how to tell Aunt May why he was entering without a shirt.