straight-bolt

8

The way Matsuo looks at Ebumi is too much.

A RIDICULOUS BONUS:

Bestfriend Benefits

Word Count: 1.6K
Warnings: crude language, sexual implications, warren making daddy jokes haha
A/N : Fake Relationship AU with Warren Also idk how I feel about this so plz send feedback


Warren turned on his heels about ready to bolt straight out the door when he felt your hand trailing up his bicep, cupping his shoulder and spinning him to face you. He blinked, too shocked to move and too slow to escape,


“Warren pleaseeeeeeeeee” You begged your e/c eyes pleading with his gorgeous blue eyes. He nearly let out a whine as he starred down at you; batting your lashes at him your lips puckered in a pretty pout.


“please angel, for me…” You smirked as you watched his cheeks grow pink at the childhood nickname.


He coughed awkwardly before puffing out his chest and rolling his eyes again, “Y/N I don’t understand why this is so important to you! Just go out and find a real boyfriend, it really shouldn’t be that hard for you I could think of like at least 5 guys just off the top of my head who would-”


“No Warren! it has to be you! You are Scott’s roommate and he absolutely despises your influence on me!”


“What kind of influence? What do I do to you, baby?” He winked leaning closer as his eyes trailed over your body.

Keep reading

3

Scmidt-Rubin M1896-1911 rifle

Designed in Switzerland by Rudolf Schmidt using cartridges designed by Eduard Rubin c.1889-1911 - serial number 444732.
7,5x5mm GP11 six-round removable box magazine, straight-pull bolt action, recessed muzzle crown at the tip of a metal-sleeved barrel to improve the consistency of the accuracy of the gun.

The M96/11 was a smokeless, spitzer cartridge improvement on the M96, which itself was an upgrade of the earlier M1889. This line of rifle was made to unthinkable standards compared to European superpowers’ military rifles, and as such were famed for their accuracy. They are easily recognizable along with their K31 successor by their beer keg bolt handle and butt-ring.

You are my Stars

Alright, so this is my first Feysand headcanon. So… take it easy on me okay, I know it’s not perfect.

Word Count: 2,718

I don’t know where this came from quite frankly but I hope you guys enjoy it!

Feyre’s point of view with Feysand fluff (NSFW)

I would love your feedback, so don’t be shy!

~~~

Bolting straight up in bed, the absence of warmth beside me pulled me from my dream. I looked over at the empty side of the bed. My fingers fumble for the sheet.

Cold –they were cold.

Rhysand must have been up for a while now. Nightmares had been plaguing him for longer than either of us would like to admit.

After my feet find the cool floor and I pad across it to where I had discarded Rhys’s shirt earlier in the evening, I throw it over my head. The soft cotton fell to just above my knee –it smelled like him too, like us. No matter how many times I lazily throw on his clothes, or how many nights I spend hours unable to sleep just breathing in the scent of him, I would never be able to get enough of it. It was intoxicating.

Our townhouse was dark, quiet. The others begrudgingly slept in the House of Winds, refusing to let us sleep there because we have a tendency to “keep other people besides ourselves up” as Cassian had put it.

I roll my eyes at the thought. My feet barley make any noise as I ascend the staircase to the rooftop garden.

And he was sitting there, back to me, wings spread, as he sat in a wrought iron chair. His dark hair was in a disheveled mess, highlighted with gold from the lights of Velaris; and his skin was glowing as he gazed out towards the sea, towards the stars that hung over it. His wings –his glorious wings were spread leisurely over the arms of the chair.

My beautiful High Lord. I wanted to paint him like that.

Of course he didn’t put his shirt on, not that I minded since I now wore it: but I don’t know how he did it. As I stepped out onto the stone, the chilled night air hit me like a brick wall and made me shiver. My body protested, demanding I head straight back inside and burrow myself under the blankets of our warm, cozy bed.

I walked over cautiously. It was a very rare occasion to catch him so lost in thought. He must have sensed me as I was right behind him because he was not surprised as I draped my arms over his broad shoulders.
My lips left a trail of kisses over his shoulder as he said. “Feyre, darling, you should be sleeping.”

“So should you,” I countered. I peered at him as I made to rest my chin on my arm.

A ragged sigh escaped my mate’s lips. “I needed air,” he said simply. I needed to see the stars to make sure they were still shining, he seemed to say.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask softly. A slight shake of his head.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I rasp. I still want to go back to bed. We both knew that wasn’t happening until he came with me.

“Because you looked too peaceful for me to wake you. Plus, I just love seeing you in my clothes.” He made the attempt to lighten the mood but the humor failed to reach his eyes.

I sighed through my nose. I knew he wanted some time alone, to think. To make sure that everything was still fine.

We sit in silence for a while, I look at Rhys while he looks out over the city.

He finally turns to meet my eyes. The pain that lingered there, the worry, it was enough to cleave my heart in two.

“Will you come back to bed?” I ask softly.

He shook his head, “No, but will you come fly with me?”

Of course of course he wanted to go and fly. The sky was his sanctuary just as his arms were mine.  A smile breaks across my lips. “Only if you get me some pants. We wouldn’t want anyone seeing the little lacy things I bought only for you,” I say, hoping to get a smile from you.

It worked because it made him, take a generous look down my body as he stood, snapped his fingers and then had a pair of my leggings draped over his forearm.

He hands then to me with a mischievous smile.

I barley even had them on before he scooped me into his arms and took a running leap off the roof. His wings snapped open and propelled us out over the city.

I laugh at the sensation, the fear of him dropping me faded just as heights had. I kept my arms around his neck, my fingers buried in the back of his hair. Every so often, when I would find his eyes on me instead of the city lights below us, I would kiss him, and I swear his wings would flatter every time.

We stayed in the vicinity of Velaris, circling the city from both high and low. Banking and swerving with the wind.

“A thought for a thought?” I ask finally, breaking the comfortable silence between us.

His eyes flick to mine. “I’m thinking that I will never stop being thankful for you being my mate. Because you know when I need to talk and don’t push me when I’m dwelling on bad thoughts. And I’m thinking that you are the only person that can bring me back and make me happy. You are my starlight during the darkness nights.”

“Not your moon?”

“No, my stars. The stars are always shinning. But the moon, even the moon isn’t there for me sometimes,” he says. His eyes train on me and my heart swells with love for the male who now carries me.

My mate. My perfect beautiful mate.

“Your turn,” he says as he swoops high enough for us to see the glint of the crescent moon over the Sidra.

The clean mountain air fills my lungs. “I’m thinking that I love you. And I will pull you from the darkness whenever it tries take hold on you. And I’m also thinking that you should put a shirt on, even though I love to see you without one. And now that you bring it up I would gladly be your stars over your moon.” I say and grin. I lean over, my lips close enough to graze down the side of his throat.

The slight groan that comes from his is ripped away by the wind. And just like that I wanted him again. I wanted him, and I wanted to offer him a distraction so he wouldn’t reel back into himself.

“I’ll never wear a shirt again if it makes you happy. I like them better on you anyway.” I can feel his fingers tighten around my waist. Oh, I was going to tease the hell out of him while we were up here.
“Do you? I prefer to see them on the floor,” I murmur into his ear. My teeth nip at his earlobe.

“You really want me to drop you tonight, don’t you?” he asks, his eyes finally gleaming with amusement, with lust.

“I want you to do a lot of things actually, none of which involve clothes –all of which involve one of us sprawled across the bed, or the floor, or the wall.”

I allow myself to keep one hand braced around his shoulder while the other idly strokes the top of his wings.

“Oh I am going to have you moaning my name so loudly, all of Velaris will hear us,” he grits out, teeth clenched.

I run my fingertips down the silken membranes near where his wings meets his back and I feel his harden against my side. A smile breaks across my lips.

“Oh Rhysand, darling, I don’t believe you. And I don’t think Cassian would appreciate the noise anyway. You know how he is,” I challenge him.

“All the more reason to do it then.”

I look up at him through my lashes to see the strained, ravenous look in his eyes. It was etched all over his face. Like he was trying his best to reel himself in before we got home.

All it took was a kiss –all it took was my tongue brushing the seam of his lips and he winnowed back to our bedroom.

I jumped out of Rhys’s arms before he hand a chance to set me down and pin me to the sheets.

Rhys took a step towards me but I winnowed behind him. My hands skimming his wings had him stopped dead in his tracks.

“Feyre,” he barked my name my hands grazed the sensitive spot near the joints.

“Stop being such a sensitive Illyiran,” I coo against the skin of his back. It was easy to get a reaction from him as I leave a trail of kisses down his spine. One of my hands reaches around his waist and I palm him through his pants.

A hiss escapes him, the bulge twitching as I twist him and push him back onto the bed.

A wicked grin crosses his lips, the glorious muscles of his chest and abdomen laid out before me.

I crawl over him, a hand continuously stroking him through the thin cotton as I press a kiss to his jaw, to his throat, his collarbone. My teeth graze the skin of the muscle between his shoulder and neck and I bite down on it. The groan that comes from him has me smiling as I pull back kissing the same spot. A bruise already forming on his skin.
He thought I was torturing him. I know because his breath was ragged by the time I got down on my knees between his legs. I gaze up at him as I remove his pants and he springs free. His head was tilted back against the bed.

The moment my mouth touches him he is undone. His fingers tangling in my hair as I slide my tongue across the entirety of him. I try to fit all of him in my mouth but I can’t and take the rest of him with my hands. Up and down, up and down I move on him.

“Feyre, please,” he groans.

Rhysand has only every begged me a few times, enough for me to count on my fingers. I’m glad I can add another finger to that now.

I keep doing and going, twisting my lips over him, flicking my tongue over the head of him before he bolts up, picks me up by the waist and claim my lips, tasting himself on me.

His strong arms set me down with a gentleness that only he knows I appreciate. “Why you’re still fully clothed is beyond me,” he breathes.

Just like that my shirt is gone, and his hands are kneading my breasts between his fingers. He twists and tugs until my nipples are hard and peaked. A moan ripples through me as I shiver.

Rhys’s eyes bore into me like he’s waiting for me to ask him.

“Rhysand,” his name escapes me. The heat pooling in my core makes my whole body tremble.

“I’m sorry what was that?” he growls. His lips traveling like a wave of hot pleasure moving across my skin. He takes his time on my neck, leaving countless marks as retribution for the one I left on him.

And then he finds my breasts, and he sucks and nibbles on them in a way that has me moaning his name again.

He trails lower, his wings spreading as he kneels before me. Kneels on those tattoos that he knows I love.

I lift my head to look at him and he hooks his kisses me through the fabric of my leggings.

“Rhys,” I moan, wanting him so badly my legs started shaking.

The smile he gives me is a lust filled one that sets my instincts on edge. He hooks his fingers around the elastic at my waist and yanks it down and off in one swift motion.

The way he spreads my legs for him and the glint in his eyes makes it look like he’s about to feast on me…not that I minded. But my blood thrums through my veins and I can’t do anything but wait for him.

My head falls back onto the bed; I can still see him as he lifts his head and brings kisses the inside of my knee. Then lower, lower, lower. Just when I think he’s going to unleash himself upon me, soothe the ache I have in that bundle of nerves, he brings his lips to my other knee and goes painfully slow. Down and down and down.

When his tongue finally dips between my center and I moan so loudly that I bite down on my lower lip to halt it.

Rhys brings both of his hands up, his arms on either side of my hips as he massages my breasts again.

He works me thoroughly, so thoroughly that I go over the edge twice. Both times his name on my lips like a prayer to the Mother.

He rises and hovers over me on an elbow as he gazes down at me.
“Look at how you lovely glow,” he whispers, love lining his voice as he gravelly voice.

I smile at him, my fingers reaching up and cupping his cheek as I bring my lips to his.

“I love you Rhysand,” I murmur.
“I love you, Feyre” he whispers back.

And with that he nudged my legs apart and slide so far into me that I bite down on his shoulder to keep myself from being too loud. Rhys goes in deeper and deeper until he can’t anymore.

The growl he releases make my head roll back. His arms slide under me and pulls my body against his until we are flush together.

He pulls out and thrusts back in torturously slow. He was going to take it slow, and I was going to let him; that doesn’t mean I still didn’t squirm under him. My nails dig into his shoulders, adding to the mark I left on his throat.

When he looks down into my eyes I can’t see anything other than love. The violets of his eyes holding so much more than he had to say at the moment.

My hips meet his slow and tedious rhythm. At the last moment he bucks his hips up, thrusting into me with a force that made my lips open in a silent gasp.

Rhysand. Rhysand. Rhysand.

His name was lost on my lips.

Rhysand. This male above me. My mate. The love of my life.

I could see it then, the darkness that was curling around us, the control slipping from him as he pulled out and pushed himself back in. There were no stars in his darkness tonight. It almost broke my heart.

I loved him too much, he made me too happy to be dwelling I his own darkness. I wanted to make him happy. That’s all I ever wanted to do. I wanted to make him as happy as he made me.

When I open my eyes I see his smile. A glow –my glow –shines through his darkness.

“Feyre,” he groans.

I was so close, so close. And the sound of my name on his lips was my undoing.

“Rhysand,” I cry out. My whole body tensing as my climax rips through me.

A few more strokes and Rhys jumped over the edge with me. My name on his lips, my body cradled in his arms.

~~~

Her skin was still glowing as she laid next to me. Her head on my chest.

“I’m disappointed in myself. You weren’t as loud as I could have made you,” I rasp.

Her eyes flick to me, those gray pools of happiness landing on me.

I felt a spark in my chest, a wave of joy settling over my heart.

Feyre. She was my salvation. She was my sun. She was my stars in the darkness night.

Feyre was the missing half of my soul that I didn’t know I was missing until I found her.  And I don’t think I could ever be happier.

“Don’t be a prick,” she muttered, sleep muffling her words.

Remembering
in little flashes,
sounds and smells
that strike chords in me -
lightning bolts jolt
straight into my brainstem.
They come on like holograms,
blurry projected visuals rolling in
of memories that don’t feel real.
Swarmed in static, barely lucid -
but I can taste the sick in my mouth,
and I can feel the sinking stones settling
in my surging stomach; I swallow but my
mouth is as dry as a desert in a dust storm.
Flash, flash - FLASHING flits in front of eyes
squeezed shut/CRASH, oh this feels just like
thunder thumping at the inside of my skull -
banging and reverberating around until these thoughts generate a whirl of sound, cacophonies live inside these awful recollections - and they are SCREAMING at me, meanwhile I’m frozen, unable to make a sound.
—  Is it too much to ask, that I might be able to forget remembering in little flashes?
They are burning me up from the inside,
there will be nothing left of me but ashes // © @rarasworldbro

Barry: WHAT DA HELL!!!

Kara: Barry, calm down. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for this. I..I don’t think that’s Iris.

Barry: Bull SH@$! I’d know that body anywhere, and THAT! THAT IS IRIS! AND YOUR SUPER BOY TOY IS DRAPED ALL OVER MY HOTTIES BODY! Hold my damn drink…

Kara: BARRY!

Barry: Nah. He bout to catch these hands. YO MA DUDE! I’M GON THROW A LIGHTNIN BOLT STRAIGHT THROUGH YA DOME IF YOU DON’T TAKE YA HANDS OFF MY WOMAN!

Tommy: Dude! What the hell is your problem? Back up! Millie who the fu@# is this?

Barry: I’ve obviously made a huge mistake, please enjoy the rest of your evening.

Kara: Told you.

Barry: I’m sorry! I just love her so much! I wonder what she’s doing right now? Is she thinking about me? I can’t wait to see her, kiss her, put my hands on her. Well, you know what I mean, TMI? Just stop me if I start rambling….

4

General Liu’s ‘Hanyang Arsenal’ selfloading rifle

Manufactured by Pratt & Whitney Tool Company in Hartford, Connecticut c.1914-15 as a sample from the tooling they were selling to the designer of the gun, the Chinese general Qing En Liu - no serial number.
7,92mm Mauser 6-round internal box magazine, gas-trap semi automatic or manual straight pull bolt action, manual safety, marked “made by the Hanyang Arsenal”.

A ‘what-if’ rifle developed in China and produced with US tooling, it never made its way back to the Chinese army due to World War 1 and an unfortunate stroke suffered by its designer, which stopped it from seeing further development. Along with the Meunier A6, General Liu’s rifle was an early military reliable selfloading rifle that was aborted by the Great War.

Seduce me Christmas fanfic (SamxMika/Reader)

I slowly opened my eyes to find myself, not surprisingly, staring at Sam’s bare chest. His

arms wrapped around me with his chin resting on the top of my head. I sighed happily and rested my head on his chest. After a while, I turned my head to look at the clock.

12:30 December 24.

Christmas eve.

When I realized what day it was, I bolted straight up, smiling brightly. As a reaction to my sudden movement, Sam growled. He didn’t move from where he was, but he made it obvious he was annoyed.

“Sam! Get up! It’s Christmas eve!” I said, shaking him a bit. He didn’t budge.

“Come on! We have stuff to do today! James, Erik, Mathew and Damien are coming

over to help us set stuff up!”

Sam’s only response was him groaning and rolling over on his side. This was starting to annoy me.

“Sam come ON! We have stuff to do today.” I urged, while getting dressed. He lightly started snoring. I growled, but no matter how much I tried to persuade him, he wouldn’t get up. Suddenly an idea came to mind. It was a death wish, sure, but it would definitely wake him. That and I felt like teasing him.

“Sam~” I said, knocking against the bed frame. “Do you want to build a snowman?

I saw him open his eyes and glare at me.

“Mika: don’t you fucking dare.” I giggled.

Come on let’s go and-”

“I swear to god if you finish that verse.”
Plaaaaaaay~”

“That’s It! You’re dead!” He said, throwing off the blanket. As soon as he did, I ran out of the room, giggling. At least I had gotten him up. I silently prayed that Sam wouldn’t use his super speed while I threw on my boots and coat and rushed outside.

I ran behind a tree and looked around. Sam was nowhere in sight. I started getting nervous. Where was he? I looked over my shoulder to see if he was behind me. Suddenly I felt my back hit the snow below me. Shocked, I looked up to see Sam, Pinning me down with a mischievous smirk painted on his face

“Gotcha doofus.”

I was pinned against the snow covered ground, with Sam on top of me. Snow was pressed against my skin, but Sam’s warmth eliminated any cold I should be feeling.

His head went down to my throat and he started planting kissing against my neck. It wasn’t long before he started nipping at the soft skin.

“Ah-! S-Sam…”

I bit my lip, trying to contain what little control I had left. Sam let out a chuckle against my skin.

This tease.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of snow being moved, and realized one of his hands was no longer pinning my wrist down.

“Huh-?”
Before I could finish whatever I was gonna say, I felt snow being shoved into my face. I felt Sam sit up and howl in laughter.

“SAM!” I shouted, shoving him off of me. I wiped the snow off and dried my face with my scarf, glaring at him. He smirked at me, and he made it painfully obvious he was trying to hold back his laughter. I punched him in the shoulder and looked away from him

“Now we’re even.”

“Yeah whatever.”

After an amount of time I looked over to him, and I could see a twinge of of regret in his amused expression.

“Heh, sorry. You alright?” he said, apologetically. Or, as apologetically as Sam could be. I chuckled, letting my bitterness subside.

“Yeah, I’m fine. My face is a little cold though, courtesy of you.”

He chuckled again before grabbing my chin and leaning forward to kiss my nose, Causing a blush to invade my cheeks. He pulled away, smirking smugly at me.

“Better?”

I wanted to say yes, but my mouth wouldn’t form the words I wanted to speak, so I just nodded.

We both stayed like that for a while, Sam still holding my chin in his grasp. It wasn’t long until he brought my face closer to his, eyes half lidded, gazing into mine. Finally I pushed forward and closed the distance between us. Sam wrapped his arms around me as I moved my arms up and around his neck.

Time seemed to stop there, with me and Sam kissing, sitting in the snow.

Hell, time seemed to stop any time I was with Sam. He somehow made my heart pace quicken with everything he did. Everytime he spoke to me, every time he flashed that toothy grin of his, every time he let out that husky chuckle, every time he said he loved me, and every time he showed me just how much he did.

He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for me. And I wouldn’t trade him for anything else.

“HEY! ARE WE GONNA DECORATE FOR CHRISTMAS OR DO YOU WANT US TO LEAVE YOU TWO ALONE?!” I heard a familiar voice yell.  Sam and I pulled away from each other and snapped our heads to the owner of the voice.

It was Matthew who shouted at us, along with the other brothers smirking at us.Even James. They were all standing not to far away from us but Sam shouted regardless.

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE?”

“Long enough to see you two making kissy faces at each other!” Shouted Matthew.

“We came over to help with the decorating, but we can come back later if you two want to be alone together~!” Shouted Erik.

Sam scowled at his brothers before getting up and charging at them, causing them to both yelp in fear and dash into the house. I walked over to James and Damien, who knew better then to tease Sam. James looked at me with a suspicious smile and an eyebrow raised.

“Care to explain, miss?”

“Not particularly. Wanna come inside? It’s cold out here.”

“You didn’t seem very cold back there.” Damien teased. I felt my cheeks warm up again.

“Or I could leave you out here both to freeze.” I said. With that, we followed Sam, Erik, and Matthew back into the house.

When we had opened the door, we saw Sam chasing his two brothers around the house. I sighed and loudly clapped my hands together, interrupting their game of cat and mouse and causing them to look at me.

“Alright everyone, let’s get organized.”

“That’s what i’m supposed to say.” complained James.

All of us had gone to the dining room, and discussed how we were gonna do this.

“Oooh! This is so exciting!” Said Matthew.

“Why are you so excited?” asked Sam

“Because this is our first Christmas! And also we get to decorate…For the first time in forever!”

“Matthew: I already had to teach Mika what happens when you sing Frozen songs around me. Do you need to be punished too?”

“Ooooooooh, so that’s what that was, huh?”
Sam blushed before looking at me, and then looking down at the floor.

“A-ANYWAYS!”

“Aaaaaanyways. So, Matthew’s got the cookies, James has the tree, Damien has the stockings….Erik what are you doing again?” I asked. He put a finger to his lips and winked to no one in particular

“That’s a secret princess~”

“Riiiiiight.” I said suspiciously.

“And me and Sam are in charge of hanging the lights and stuff. Sound good?” I asked. When they all nodded, we broke off to to the job we were assigned. It didn’t take very long for Sam and I to place lights, holly, bells, ext. (Mostly thanks to his super speed) on almost every part of the mansion.

For some reason though, Sam would only let me hang stuff where I could reach. He would not let me use the ladder. Why though? It kind of irked me but at the same time, it made me happy that he cared for me.

Occasionally I would start humming Christmas carols. Tis the season after all. Sam was fine with it (as long as it wasn’t anything from Frozen) and I even heard him sing the lyrics very quietly under his breath. It made me want to giggle, because he was so cute, but I didn’t because I knew if I did he’d stop and feel embarrassed.

Eventually we reached the archway that separated the kitchen from the entrance room of the mansion. Of course, I couldn’t reach it.

“I’ve got this.” said Sam. But I put my hand on his shoulder and stopped him from climbing the ladder he had just sat down.

“No, I've got this. You’ve done most of the placing things on the high stuff and now I want to do something.” He looked at me,his expression half blank, half concerned.

“But what if-”

“Sam. I’m not gonna fall, got that? I’m not that much of a klutz.” He looked like he wanted to argue, but eventually he sighed and stepped off the ladder.

“Just be careful, alright?”

I smiled reassuringly at him before climbing the ladder. Halfway up, I felt him place his hands on my hips, as if trying to keep me steady. At the moment, I felt a feeling of annoyance and irritation for my incubus. I looked over my shoulder at him.

“Sam: I’m. Fine. It’s not my first time climbing a ladder.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor.

“Right.” He pressed his back up against the wall and left me to place the string of holly and bells across the walls. Eventually he spoke up.

“So why do humans do this? You know, celebrate Christmas and stuff?” He asked

“Well, apparently it’s the day Jesus was born. And Christians felt like that day needed to be celebrated. So: Christmas.”

He nodded. It was my turn to ask a question.

“So, do you have holidays in the abyssal plains?”

He bit his lip, taking my question into consideration.

“Not really. I mean, we celebrated eachothers birthdays but not sure that really counts. Hell, If you can even call it celebrating.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well: when it was one of our birthdays: we would all sneak away and spend the day with each other. Whovever’s birthday it was’s mom would spend some time with them too. It wasn’t really a big extravaganza, especially when we had our dad to avoid. He’d always work James to the bone so we barely saw him, Erik had his mom to deal with, and me, Matthew and Damien would just kind of do our own thing so we were rarely in the same place at the same time.”

“Hmm…I see…” I tore my eyes away from my work to smile at Sam. “Well, you’re not there anymore! You’re here! That’s what’s important!”

A momentary look of surprise crossed over his face before he beamed up at me

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

I looked back at what I was supposed to be doing at something caught my eye that I didn’t notice before: a small green plant with white berries and a red ribbon tied onto it.

Mistletoe? Who had hung mistletoe? I looked down at Sam, who was standing under said mistletoe, and I felt my cheeks slightly heat up at the thoughts circling around in my head.

Somehow, while I was spacing off, I had lost my balance and started to fall backwards.

“KYAAH!”

“WOAH!”

Sam had caught me, and now I was in his arms with him carrying me in his arms like a bride. How was it that we always end up in these predicaments? Though, I wasn’t complaining.

“You alright?” He asked

“Y-Yeah.”

“Good.”He said, putting me down on my feet. He scowled before leaning his forward to nuzzle my forehead to his.

“I told you to be careful doofus.” I closed my eyes and smiled

“Right. Sorry.”

“Well, well, well. Would you look at that.” I heard a someone’s (Cough cough Erik’s) smug voice say. We glanced to see, yet again, the brothers had snuck up on us at the worst possible time.

“Ah, I knew placing mistletoe would be a good idea.” said Erik. So this was his doing. Dammit Erik.

I was blushing from ear to ear, but Sam just stared quizzically at me and his brothers.

“What’s…Mistletoe?” Oh lord how was I supposed to explain this to him?

“Um-w-well, when two people are standing under the mistletoe, they have to-um…” Luckily/not Luckily I didn’t have to explain beyond that because Damien had finished my thoughts for me.

“They have to kiss.” he said, nonchalantly.

I saw Sam’s face flush a shade of red and an surprised look cross his face before I looked down at the floor with the same amount of embarrassment.

“W-WHA? WHY? THAT’S DUMB! I MEAN, WE DON’T HAVE TO IF WE DON’T WANT TO! IF YOU WANT TO THOUGH- NOT SAYING YOU HAVE TO BUT-”
“You’re blowing it Sam!” said Mathew, trying to be encouraging but failing miserably. Sam snapped his head back to glare daggers at his younger brother

“SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU-”

While his head was turned, I took the chance to press a kiss against his cheek, making him freeze in surprise, and blush a deeper shade of red. He looked back at me, and I smiled.

“We may.” I said, trying to make another Frozen reference. If he was angry or annoyed at the reference, he didn’t show it as he leaned in and kissed me.

The other brothers (mostly Erik and Matthew) let out whistles or said “Yeah you do it!” but we payed no attention to them as we melted at each other’s touch.

This was one, if not my favorite, things I loved about Sam. Not just his kisses, but the how I could feel the love and passion he had for me every time his lips touched mine. It made me wonder if he could feel the love and passion I had for him every time we kissed. Although i’m pretty sure I already knew the answer to that question.

Sam loved me, and I loved him. The decorations could wait, Santa could wait, and Christmas could wait. All the mattered to me right now: was being in the arms of the man I loved as we savored the feeling of eachother’s lips, and melted in each other’s embrace.

That was all that I needed in order to have a truly merry Christmas.

Thought of leaving another NSFW cliff hanger, but I decided to just write an actual NSFW and save it for later ;)

1905 Ross mk.II sporterized in .303 British. Canadian WWI rifle that somehow ended up in the US arsenal. The markings on the butt stock are all US markings. This is my Grandfather’s old deer rifle from the late 1920′s-1960′s. It still shoots straight. It’s also a straight pull bolt action. 

This idea has been stuck in my mind but I don’t think I have time to write it, so I’m throwing it out here as a not!fic.

Just imagine, for some reason, that Derek is all wolfed out in the aftermath of a fight, trading barbs back and forth with Stiles, and Stiles almost misses it – thinks it’s just a trick of the light.  Stiles loses his train of thought for a moment until Derek furrows his brow in confusion, eyes burning bright blue again, and then Stiles snaps back to attention and carries on as if nothing happened. 

But Stiles is Stiles, and he loves a puzzle, and his mind keeps turning it over and over, what they had been talking about when it happened, and when the realization hits him it’s enough to make him bolt straight upright in his bed, plans and schemes already spinning in his head.

Subtlety is not Stiles’ forte but he tries.  Just a comment here and there so that Derek doesn’t get his back up.  Trying to just throw it out there, trying not to stare too intently at Derek’s eyes, watching for it.  But it’s there, every time.

“It wasn’t your fault.”  (Flicker)

“You didn’t deserve that.” (Flicker)

“You were doing your best in a crap situation.”  (Flicker)

“Nobody blames you for what happened.” (Flicker)

And sometimes Derek does get angry and defensive, and other times he just ignores Stiles as if he’s just humoring him, but eventually, every once in awhile, there’s a little nod, as if Derek is registering the truth in Stiles’ unwavering tone and steady heartbeat.  Until over months and months and maybe even years and years, the flicker gets longer and longer until one day Stiles can smile up into Derek’s beautiful golden eyes. 

Later as Pansy was finish up her scrap gathering she turned around to see the young man standing behind her watching her.  She bolted straight up and took a few steps back into the pile of junk.  Clearly aware that he had startled her the young man quickly began to talk.

???? : “Hi there.  Sorry if I startled you, I just wanted to come introduce myself.  I’m Folly Gillyflower.”

Pansy: “Oh um, hi - “ 

Pansy could feel herself being to shake nervously.  The junkyard was supposed to be a safe place for her, a place where she could relax, but now there was this handsome man here interrupting her peace and introducing himself.  Her anxiety began to creep up and she could feel her hands begin to sweat

“Did I say my name?  Oh no, I think I forgot to say my name”, she thought to herself. 

Pansy: “ - I - I’m Pansy Chantily.”

2

Mondragon Model 1894 rifle

Manufactured by SIG in Switzerland, serial number 98.
5.2x68mm Rubin piston cartridge - a measure needed to achieve a high velocity small caliber round without blowing up your gun with shitty early smokeless powder - straight pull bolt action, fed with en-bloc clips.

The Mondragon was a Mexican design, but was produced in Switzerland because of the lack of sufficient facilities in Mexico. Its inventor would later give us the Mondragon M1908 self loading rifle, the first semi-automatic rifle to enter military service.

Sauce : James D. Julia Inc.

youtube

UFO’s Struck By Lightning Over Corsica September 8,

Witness reports: I noticed strange lights falling down from the sky just after the lightning. When I checked my video, one of the lights seems to be hit by the lightning, and creates some kind of electric discharge. The object then falls from the sky, and looks like it’s burning. I then noticed two big explosions, after viewing the footage in slow-mo, I saw a kind of fast light going in the storm direction. The object went straight through the lightning bolt, causing the strange electrical explosion.

This is an amazing capture: On the video, the anomaly looks metallic, due to the lightning reflecting on its side. My guess is that the two falling objects hit by lighting in the video are UFOs being hit by the lightning strikes, and burning and falling while being consumed in mid-air.

I’ve posted the whole 4 minute video as a gif just wouldn’t of done it justice.

AU: CEO! Michael for blurb night with quiffedluke and featuringluke

CEO! Michael telling all the other powerful business heads in the room that he has to leave their conference, because of another very important meeting at noon. At first they give him a hard time, asking if his other appointment was really more important than finishing this huge million dollar business deal. But he stands up, slips on his suit coat, and without hesitation says yes. His next appointment is way more significant. But he assures them he’ll finish the deal soon. And just then, you open the heavy glass door, your little girl bolting straight for Michael. “Hi daddy!” she squeals. “Hi my little flower,” he greets, lifting her up and kissing her head. Then he beams at you as you’re waiting by the door. “These two ladies are twelve o’clock,” Michael introduces. “They will always be my top priority.”

He slammed her up against the wall, as she screamed, so loud she couldn’t hear herself scream anymore. She deserved this. She fucking deserved it, and there was no point telling anyone, because everything she said was a fucking lie, and no one would believe her anymore.

Lydia tossed and turned in her bed. Her forehead was creased with worry, and she mumbled something’s unintelligible. She became more and more restless, until she bolted straight up in bed, screaming. Her book case tipped forwards, spilling books everywhere. The window shattered. She jerked awake, her screams turning into sobs as she crumpled forwards. 

@nightmares-to-dreamscapes

Imagine Him The Morning After

Dan: You woke up, stiff-back and puffy-eyed. The real question? Where were you and what the fuck happened? You bolt straight up as soon as you remember. You went and slept on the couch. Why? You and Dan had gotten into a fight the night before and you were too good of a person to make him sleep on the couch when you really didn’t officially live there, even though you basically did.

You were just grateful that Dan had black pillow cases to hide the stains of mascara that you knew were there. You don’t really even remember what the fight had even been about. You just knew that you were pissed and when you were pissed, you always seemed to take it out on Dan, which made your boyfriend pissed.

There was faint grumbling coming from down the down the hall. You looked in the corresponding direction. Dan is padding down the hallway in a sleepy manner, his brown hair in every direction except the right one. There were dark bags under his eyes, showing the proof that he had gone to bed as equally distressed as you. He paid no attention to you as he tugged a t-shirt over his head and filled the kettle with water and setting it on the stove. Dan walked back down the hall and poked his head in Phil’s room. “I’m taking a shower. Take the kettle off when it’s done,” you hear him mutter to his roommate.

There’s the sound of running water that comes from the bathroom. Phil doesn’t come out of his room until the kettle starts to squeal loudly. Even then, he’s barely awake. He walks like he’s in a daze and bumps into everything in his path on his way to the kitchen. He takes the kettle off the stove and grabs three mugs from the cabinet above his head.

You wrap yourself up in the thin blanket that kept you warm throughout the night. Phil set a mug of hot water with a tea bag on the table in front of you. “Are you alright?” He asks quietly.

“Is he still mad at me?” You ask, ignoring Phil’s question.

“I don’t know. He’s crazy if he is.”

“I shouldn’t have been bitchy… I’m sorry that you had to be stuck in the middle of this.”

“It’s alright. I promise,” he said, wrapping a protective arm around you.

“Can we talk?” A voice asks from the end of the hallway.

You look up. Y/E/C meeting brown. Dan looks at you expectantly. You simply nod and follow him to his room. He sits on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands as they twist awkwardly in his lap. You sit next to him, chewing your bottom lip, looking nervously around the room, knowing it could very well be the last time you ever saw this room again.

“I’m sorry…” He says, his voice small and meek like a child’s. His hobbit hair clings to his forehead, droplets of water falling to onto the towel around his waist. “I shouldn’t have flipped out. I know school has you stressed and I should’ve tried to help instead of just make everything worse.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too. I should’ve just left all my problems at school. You can’t be getting caught up in my problems.”

“You can’t do that. If this is going to become an even more serious relationship than it already is, then we need to work out our problems calmly and preferably not like we’re about to slit each others throats,” he says, taking your hands in his, allowing himself to chuckle slightly.

“I’m sorry…” You mutter a final time before he pulls your head down to rest it on his shoulder and planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Me too.”


Phil: The sun seeping through the windows, the squeal of the kettle, and the sound of the shower all fail miserably to wake you up. You were warm, comfy, and, most importantly, happy. It was the tickling of eyelashes against your bare back that brought you to your senses. Then, a line of soft kisses from your shoulder blades to your collar bone send shivers down your spine making you groan and roll over to meet the piercing blue eyes of your lover, barely awake, lying next to you.

“Good morning, darling,” he mutters in a deep morning voice.

“Morning,” you say, trying to make his hair lay flat.

He laughs. “I feel like you’re petting me,” Phil manages through his laughter.

This humor is what makes you laugh. The totally ridiculous humor is what first brought you to love this man lying next to you. He nuzzled his face in the back of your neck, his lips pressed against one of the purple spots that was left behind from the night before.

“Phil!” A voice shouts from down the hall.

Phil just groans into your hair, the effort of waking up clearly not being something he’s willing to put his energy into right now.

There’s a faint knocking on the door allowing enough time for Phil to pull the blanket up higher around the two of you before Dan charges in, a hand over his eyes. “Are all areas of skin that I would rather not see covered?”

“Yes,” Phil says, rolling his eyes.

“Good.” Dan moves the hand from his eyes, only to move it to his mouth to contain his faint giggles. “I go out for one night and you two get it on.” Dan clicks his tongue.

“Shut up, Dan,” Phil mumbles, poking his head out from under the blanket.

“That hair. The hell, Phil…” Dan grumbles, reaching over you to try to fix Phil’s hair.

“Will you two stop petting me!?”

Dan gives you a skeptic look. “I’m not going to ask…” Dan mutters quietly, walking out of the room.

“Wait! Dan!”

“What, Phil?” He asks exasperatedly.

“What did you want?”

“Just wanted to see if I could give you a hard time later. And I can safely say that it can and will happen.” Dan winks at the two of you, walking out the door and shutting it behind.

Phil just looks at you. “Whatever. It’s worth it,” he mumbles, allowing you to feel his smile against your skin.

Always

[ I wrote somewhat of a drabble to discharge some fluff, and as well as to cheer hgblack up because ngl they, cenizaella, me, and probably like a good chunk of our followers combined cried over the chain of “I Miss You” memes we did lmao. It’s just a two page thing, but I think it’s kinda cute. ‘w’ It’s SFW. Read away! <3 ]

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The FEG Hungarian 35M,

After World War I the Austro-Hungarian Empire had fallen and Hungary itself had become an independent nations.  While the Hungarians continued to use older Mannlicher rifles issued to the Austro-Hungarian Army, by the mid 1930’s there was demand for a native rifle design to be adopted as a replacement.  Famous for being a straight pull bolt action, the Mannlicher had some problems the Hungarians wished to resolve.  The straight pull bolt action was fragile and susceptible to malfunction due to dust, dirt, or moisture.  The straight pull action was also complex, making it difficult to maintain or repair, and difficult to mass produce. In particular, the bolt of the Mannlicher was so precisely made that they had to be hand fitted and were not interchangeable.

In 1935 the 35M rifle was introduced as a replacement of the Mannlicher.  It was very similar to the older M1895 Mannlicher, however the straight pull bolt action was replaced with a more conventional turnbolt action from the Mannlicher Schoenauer.  In addition the barrel was lengthened, and a two piece stock was used to ease production and manufacturing (less dimensionally stable wood can be used).  The 35M was chambered for 8X56mmR, and used a 5 round single stack fixed magazine which was loaded using stripper clips.

The 35M was used throughout World War II and even made appearances during the Hungarian Revolution in 1956.  In 1943 the 43M was introduced, which was an improvement of the 35M.  It too was used by the Hungarian Army in World War II, and was produced for the German Army by special contract as well.