swift decisions

5

        This is falling in love in the cruelest way,
                                               This is falling for you and you are worlds away.

Okay, y'all say it with me now.

“Taylor Swift and Tom Hiddleston are two consenting adults. They are real people, not a TV show. It does not matter if you like them together, Tom Hiddleston does not belong to you. He is dating her, you know Tom - he obviously sees something in her he really likes and vice versa. They are not fictional characters. You don’t get to pout because your ship didn’t happen. They’re human. You don’t know Tom. You don’t know Taylor. You don’t get an opinion on who they date. You don’t own Tom Hiddleston.”

Now, again. A little louder for the people in the back.

  • Taylor Swift: I'm making a decision to pull my music from Spotify as a business move to support lesser known artists
  • People: You're just greedy and a cold calculating corporate devil!!
  • Taylor Swift: I'm trademarking specific lyrics written in certain designs that my graphic designers made so fake companies can't steal them and take advantage of my fans or take money away from my staff also I literally own these designs so I can do that and literally everyone does this
  • People: See!! Money hungry business devil!!
  • Taylor Swift: *dates anyone, tweets about her cats, doesn't tweet for a few weeks, wears a red shirt instead of a blue shirt*
  • People: THIS IS A PR STUNT!! THIS IS A BUSINESS MOVE!! YOU'RE A COLD AND CALCULATING BUSINESS WOMAN!!
  • Taylor Swift: Katy Perry tried to sabotage my Red Tour by messing with my dancers' contracts
  • People: ur just stupid and and have no business experience
Zodiac Signs and Break Ups:

Originally posted by un-adolescentemas

WRITTEN BY ZODIAC SOCIETY || THEZODIACSOCIETY.COM

ARIES: Stagnation and boredom is the death for most Aries in relationships. There needs to be a sense of mystery, stimulation, and challenge in order to keep the flames of passion alive for them. They love the chase and conquest, and being able to overcome any obstacles in the relationship will keep it going. They enjoy a challenge, so they will keep trying and trying before leaving a relationship. However, once their partner’s passion cools off, there will only remain a lack of interest for Aries, and a lack of interest is the start of the end. If a lover hurts an Aries deeply, they will be completely be ignored and shut out. They are quick to move on to another new relationship after the old one dies off.

TAURUS: It can take a really long time for Taureans to decide to leave a relationship because of their strong loyalty. However, once a Taurus makes up their mind, there’s no turning back or changing their mind. Their decisions are swift and a lover may not know exactly when a breakup is coming because others often underestimate the severity in which a lover has hurt them. Once they decide, they will walk away forever. If the Taurus gets hurt, they become harsh and domineering because it’s more of a blow to their ego than anything; and they don’t want to be wrong in their choice of relationship since they were already cautious to begin with.

GEMINI: The end of a relationship for most Geminis is when they get bored too often in the relationship, when their lover becomes domineering, restrictive in their freedom, or when they make too many emotional demands. Their decision to leave the relationship may seem abrupt, but it’s only after much deliberation and much unhappiness. However, they will tell you straight up once they’ve made the decision. After an affair, they may become friends with their ex or just vanish. However, if the lover leaves the Gemini, they may end up deeply hurt, insecure, and at a loss, but they will try to put on a show of confidence and coolness, and continue searching for love.

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iv-a. i knew i loved you then

but you’d never know
ft. akashi seijuurou

Characters are adults here, think late twenties. I also think this is longer than the other stories in Cantabile, because *inspiration*!


Originally posted by butteryplanet

Maybe everything happened because of fate.

The recital hall is packed, and you’re not exaggerating when you say it literally looks like a sea of people. The traffic was hectic, which lead to your almost late arrival. You regret not being able to meet your student to give her encouragement, but thankfully her mobile was reachable just a couple of minutes ago, so you were able to cheer her on through a simple phone call. 

You’re struggling to find an empty seat—the lights are dim, making it harder for you to look for one. Eventually you see one empty seat right beside the aisle, a man sitting on the seat next to it. You walk over in a slightly faster pace than you’re used to, not wanting the seat to be taken by someone else.

“Excuse me,” you say, grabbing his attention, “is this seat taken?”


Shocking scarlet eyes look back at you in mild surprise. He looks your age, somewhere between mid- and late-twenties, though his face might pass for early-twenties instead. He’s dressed formally, like most of the people attending the recital, including you. When he speaks, his tone is professional and dignified:

“No, please.”

You smile, relieved and thankful, as you shuffle into your seat, fixing your clothes as you’re seated. You murmur your gratitude, while he replies with a simple “you’re welcome”. Realizing that there’s still at least five more minutes until the show starts, you glance at him, pondering if you should make small talk.

Before you can decide, he beats you to it.

“What brings you here today?”

“Oh,” you blink, surprised at the initiative, “it’s my student, actually. She’s performing.”

His eyes shines with interest, that much is plain to see. A small smile graces his lips.

“Really. Instrument?”

“Piano. She’s playing Schumann today.”

He hums and nods, seemingly pleased with your answer.

“And what about you?” You ask.

“My friend’s daughter is playing,” he replies, “though I came here rather late, and I couldn’t seem to find him.”

“Wow, that’s unfortunate,” you say sympathetically, “did you get caught in the traffic or something?”

“Yes,” the redhead answers, shaking his head slightly at the memory of the traffic jam he experienced earlier. Owning a luxury sedan doesn’t make life easier in Tokyo. “I didn’t expect it to be that bad.”

“Same,” you sigh, “but at least we’re here now.”

The lights are dimmed down, and the two of you gather that the recital is about to start. Amongst the minimally lit room, however, you can see that the man has extended a hand.

“Akashi,” he says, “Akashi Seijuurou.”

It takes you two seconds into the handshake to offer you your own full name upon realizing that the person next to you is the CEO to an extremely successful company.


“How did you enjoy the performance?” Akashi asks you in the middle of the applause at the closing performance. You need to lean in a little bit to hear him, and your shoulder unintentionally touches his. He doesn’t seem to notice—if he does, he doesn’t look like he minds. You, on the other hand, have to mutter a simple apology, moving away before answering his question.

“It was intriguing,” you reply, slowly stopping your own applause, “some of the pieces were interpreted differently by their respective performers. I feel refreshed.” You smile, standing up the same time as he does. It seems like Akashi is going to at least walk out of the hall with you before parting ways, and with that in mind, you tread up the stairs with him by your side, exchanging banter mostly about the recital that just ended.

The light outside is almost blinding, since it is only 4 p.m. and the sun is still shining in the desaturated blue of the winter sky. You have to squint slightly a few moments upon exiting the dim hall to adjust your eyes. Akashi, on the other hand, doesn’t seem too bothered, and you notice just how he looks three times more captivating under the late afternoon sunlight.

“Your student performed brilliantly,” he compliments, “her teacher must be excellent, as well.” When he says that, he looks at you with mirth in his eyes. Is he teasing you? You can only chuckle and bashfully look down to the ground.

“Ah, speaking of which, I need to congratulate her,” you say, looking around outside the auditorium entrance to spot your student. She must be with her parents here somewhere.

“I suppose I should also say hello to my friend,” he replies. “But before you go, ___________-san…”

You turn to look at him writing something on what looks like a business card, before he hands it to you.

“I hope you don’t mind me giving you my personal number,” Akashi says with a smile. It is somehow different compared to the other smiles he’s sent you during the short period of time you’ve got to know each other—ever enigmatic, but somehow this time it’s more… gallant

“I’d like to get to know you more, perhaps over coffee or lunch. Call me if you’re free,” he says, before spotting someone from afar—green hair and tall stature makes someone much easier to find in a crowd. 

“And that would be my friend. Until next time, ___________-san.”

You’re in a standstill, his card still in your hand as you watch him walk away to greet his friend. Until next time, huh… he’s that confident that you’re going to call him. 

You can’t say he’s wrong. 


‘Getting to know each other’ ends up happening over lunch dates instead—he picks you up at 12.30 sharp every time, drives you to a restaurant that he recommends, and you’d talk and eat for an hour. From the four lunch dates that he’s taken you to, you now know several things about him: that he knows how to play the violin, and his favorites are Bach and Brahms, and that he also knows how to play the piano (unsurprising, in your opinion). He used to play basketball in high school—you know the whole story—and you know of his family. You know that he likes tofu soup, and a bunch of other things that would take a whole day to describe.

When you see him through the window of the classroom you’re teaching in, you can’t be any more surprised. 

“Can you complete number 5 and 7, too? I will check your answers when you’re done with everything,” you tell your student, who replies with a simple “okay” before you walk to get the door, closing it once you’re out of the room. The look on Akashi’s face tells you that he’s entertained by your shocked expression.

“Akashi-san, what are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too,” Akashi says, holding out a small, simple bouquet of red tulips. Knowing him, who likes things of extravagance and class, he probably doesn’t want you to look unprofessional in your work place. 

“I thought I could pay you a surprise visit,” he continues.

“Well, you succeeded on that,” you reply, holding the flowers in your hands, “and you shouldn’t have, really.”

“I wanted to,” he smiles. You have to hold in the urge to blush.

“Thank you, they’re lovely.”

“You’re welcome.”

Silence sets in the two of you for a few seconds, and you certainly aren’t able to gauge the look on Akashi’s face while your eyes keep looking anywhere but him.

“I was wondering if you’re free for dinner tomorrow night?” Akashi asks, a casual hand in his pocket.

“Yes, I am,” you say, “are you picking me up?”

“Of course,” he replies smoothly as he flashes one of those dangerously charming smiles to you. You thought that seeing it more often for the past three weeks would make you somewhat immune to it, but his charm, if anything, gets even stronger. Or is it you who is getting weaker?  “Is seven alright?”

“Yes, that works just fine,” you say, smiling back at him. He takes your hand and kisses the back of it, like he always does before and after a date with you—you told him you thought only people in the olden days did that, and he laughed. This time, however, you don’t comment. The pink on your cheeks tell him everything he needs to know.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

You wave him goodbye as he walks away from the classroom towards the exit—the front desk must’ve told him you’re almost done with this class and let him in. You hope the other teachers weren’t around to see that… Opening the door to your classroom with the bouquet in your hands, you see your student still twirling the pencil in his hand, and when he looks up at you, he’s mildly surprised at the bunch of flowers you’ve got.

“How are we going along?”

“Sensei, was that your boyfriend?” The boy teases, grinning mischievously with curiosity in his eyes. You burst out laughing.

“He’s… someone I’ve known for a while. Now, if the question asks you to identify the tempo in Mälzel’s Metronome—”


The dinner was splendid, even Akashi has to admit at least that. He told you beforehand that the restaurant isn’t really one you can enter without complying to a certain dresscode, which took you by surprise, but he must say that you look gorgeous with that outfit on. He just has to examine you from head to toe another time, you sitting quietly in the passenger seat of his Aston Martin, looking out the night lights of the city. 

Akashi is never one to quickly jump into things that is uncertain. He does make swift decisions, but all of them are accurate, precise, calculated, and always right. 

So when he thinks meeting you is love in first sight, that might as well be the truth.

It wasn’t all flowers and pink auras in your first meeting, that’s for sure, but he remembers exactly how it felt when his eyes met yours. There’s something different, and a voice inside him (his conscience, or his demons?) telling him that you’re different. Of course he included the possibility of being physically attracted to you, which is a very natural thing considering how appealing you are, but he’s never one to be simply allured by looks.

After various processes in his mind, he concluded that the butterflies in his stomach can only be the product of the so-called love at first sight. 

“Akashi-san, are you finally going to tell me where we’re going?” You ask, a small smile on your face. Trying to guess where he’s taking you makes it all the more exhilarating—you haven’t felt this way in a very long while.

“My home,” he answers, and before you can retaliate or question him, or think of other more suggestive possibilities, he continues. 

“I want to show you something.”


When he brings back a violin case to the living room where you’re sat, you gasp. He can only smile back, taking extreme delight in your shock.

He’s going to play for you.

And it’s not like you’ve never heard someone play the violin. You’ve been to many violin performances, the recital where the two of you met counts as one, but to have someone that is a romantic interest to perform in front of you, just the two of you

It has to be a serenade.

He elegantly holds the instrument up, his fingers delicately hovering over the strings, and as his right hand starts to move the bow across the instrument, you find yourself surprised yet again.

Liebestraum.

“Love’s Dream”, so it is called, by Liszt. It is a classic piano piece, you’ve never heard it on the violin before, but the melody sounds so enchanting when Akashi plays it. The room is quiet, and the sound of the instrument resonates so beautifully in the midst of the silence, letting you hear each and every note clearly. 

It’s his confession of love.

Akashi is deep in concentration as he plays, so when his scarlet eyes look up at you from the violin, you can’t find it in you to look away. He’ll only gaze at you for so long before returning back to playing, eyelids fluttering once in a while as his fingers dance to the theme of the song. He said that he hasn’t played for a while… did he practice for this? Visions of him playing the violin somewhere in his mansion, alone, spending an hour or two for this piece—it grips your heart so strongly.

When the main melody is repeated in a higher octave, you know that the song is about to end, but it sounds so sad and beautiful that it makes your eyes water, hand cupping your mouth to prevent whatever unelegant sound you’re about to make. The piece reaches a romantic conclusion, like the last word written in a book, or a couple exchanging sacred three words. 

Akashi exhales, puts down the instrument and looks to you to gauge reaction.

Instead of the applause he’s expecting, he sees you walking towards him and cupping his face with both hands before kissing him.

It’s something that he returns whole-heartedly, of course, for he’s sure his heart has never felt that close to bursting at the seams. The touch of your lips are initially soft and tender, but something in him decides to take more of you, and his hand moves to your waist to press you against his body. His mouth moves against yours in a passionate dance, encasing your bottom lip in his to suck on it, while he has a hand behind your head to pull you impossibly closer to him.

He wouldn’t have stopped if it weren’t for the wetness he feels against your cheek.

“You’re crying,” Akashi says after slowly pulling away, his finger wiping away the tears, only to find more of them streaming down your cheeks. You sigh helplessly before resting your face against his chest, inadvertently inhaling his scent.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “that was just… beautiful, I don’t know what else I can say—”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he says, chuckling a little bit, and you can feel the vibrations deep in his chest. 

“I—did you—Akashi-san, how long—”   

“Please, call me Seijuurou,” he cuts you off, patting your head lovingly in attempts to calm you down. “I shall also call you  ___________, if you wish.”

“Seijuurou,” you begin again, and he prays to heavens that you don’t catch the way his heart beats like a hammer against his ribcage when he hears you say his name, “how long did you spend practicing for this?”

“That’s a secret I can’t tell,” Akashi answers, mischief apparent in his gaze. You pout, disappointed at the answer, but you lean up to kiss him again nonetheless, this time with your arms wrapped around his shoulder. Akashi’s lips curl into a subtle smirk against the kiss, and when your mouth opens slightly as a form of invitation, he wants nothing more than to accept.

When you part, your eyes are half-lidded, and Akashi can’t decide if it’s from lust or love before he concludes that it’s both.

“Aka—Seijuurou, are we…”

“A couple?” He finishes your sentence for you when he senses you trailing off, and then dips down to your jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “Yes, we are. I’d like you to be mine.”

“Mmm,” you hum in both agreement and pleasure from his treatment, “I’d like that too.”

Scarlet eyes look deep into yours, and he sees love in them just like you see love in his—it’s just a matter of time until the two of you feel right to say it out loud. For now, his violin has initiated the conversation, and you’re speaking with your eyes, with how you admire his face and how he watches your lips move as you speak. For now, the two of you will just bask in romance’s dream.

A time will come in the future when he’ll say he fell in love with you first and you had no idea, but that’s for later, Akashi decides.    

Regime Change does not necessarily happen in a swift, decisive “Take-Over”.  It more likely succeeds through an infection within, and an erosion of, the very institutions which monitor and uphold our Liberties!

The Infection Within has already been planted by The Trump Transition Team,  and the Erosion is Moving Slowly, but Steadily throughout our institutions!

So, what are you willing to do to Stop This!  This Republican Congress Will Not, so it is Up To Us!

Phroyd

literature meme [1/7 characters]

“My nails are broken, my fingers are bleeding, my arms are covered in scars left by the paws of your guards - but I am a queen!” - Antigone, Sophocles

Antigone is a character found in the Oedipus plays of Sophocles. She is very much her father’s daughter, sharing his swift decisiveness. However, due to her acute awareness of her history she is a much more dangerous presence than Oedipus, especially to Creon. In her play ‘Antigone’, we see a woman so desperate for familial connection that she is prepared to risk her life to maintain them even in death.

Erwin & Levi Feature in PASH! Magazine

In the December issue of PASH! Magazine, which came out on November 10th, there was a small, one-page feature on the nature of the relationship between Erwin & Levi, in anticipation for the Choice With No Regrets OAD coming out next month. It was short, so I was able to complete a translation fairly quickly.

There isn’t really any new information, as it’s all pretty much a rehash of events from the Female Titan arc in the anime, but I think it serves its purpose as a mini introduction/refresher to Erwin & Levi’s bond, Why Eruri Should Be Everyone’s BROTP AT THE VERY LEAST, imho ;)

Anyway, read on for the feature and translation!

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Hatley Castle Haunting

Hatley Castle was built on Vancouver Island, off Canada’s West Coast, by the Scottish Coal Baron Robert Dunsmuir. He was a famous but controversial figure in his day, known for his swift-handed approach to decisions concerning the use of land.

The castle, which now forms part of the campus of Royal Roads University, has begun to fall prey to a series of unexplained events, which send chills down the spine of those who venture too close. Terrified observers have reported seeing a white figure drifting around the windows, and they’ve also made reference to hearing the clash of pots and pans.

It is rumored that the maid of Robert Dunsmuir—rejected by her lover—leapt from the window and died. SPIRITS, a charity dedicated to investigating the paranormal, claims that one of its staff members actually saw a female figure clothed in white slipping through the castle corridors. Unfortunately, few sources have less credibility in such cases than a charity dedicated to investigating the paranormal. Source: Listverse

The freezing landscape of the tundra is not conducive to a creature like Ultio, not with its white spread, immediately turning him to a dark spot against the canvas instead of, as he is in space, blending in against a similarly dark backdrop. As such, he’s moving swiftly, his feet propelling him forward in long leaps, palms beating the snow and packing it with each landing whilst he streaks towards the first place he senses a reasonable destination- heat and meat packed in one place, someplace he can go and lurk until he gets his wits about him again.

Ultio give short huffs and grunts as he bounds closer, and then falls silent, lunging up onto the roof of the first building of the settlement that he comes to, and creeping along the shingles carefully, his tail waving behind himself before stiffening as a sort of natural rudder when he leaps to the next, and the next, cat-like in the quiet, swift, decisive motions he makes. Finally, he finds a window, just sparely cracked, and slides his fingers into the bottom of it, curling his long digits around the base, and pulls it up.

The Xenomorph slinks into the dim room, and then scuttles up the wall, using his tail to close the window again behind himself so that there is no evidence that he’s been in and out whatsoever- and then Ultio crouches among the rafters, and waits. Surely, something will come along.

anonymous asked:

Can I request an "I almost lost you" kiss with Nevena and Cullen? Pretty please and thank you very much

Sure thing… Let’s have a shot at a post-Trespasser moment, shall we?


“Cullen?” He moaned, groggy and complaining at being awoken. Through his half-asleep state he felt something close around his shoulder. “Cullen?” He was shaken again, a little more vigorously. His body complained at the intrusion on his rest. Even as he opened his eyes, blinking slowly, his eyelids burned at being opened.

“Hm?” He dragged his hand down his face, trying to focus his vision. Cassandra came into focus, her eyes dark, her face drawn and pale. Worry marring her defined features. Realisation dawned on him, the past few days flying to the forefront of his mind. He jerked up out of his seat so fast Cassandra was forced to take a step back. “Nevena?!”

“She’s fine. She is still resting.” Cassandra explained, her voice softer than Cullen had ever heard it. She peered past him and down at the chair he was sleeping in. The blanket he covered himself with was on the floor, and the tray of food that a servant brought to him several hours ago was untouched. “When was the last time you slept in a bed?” asked Cassandra, fixing him with a look that was hauntingly similar to one Mia sometimes gave.

“I shouldn’t be sleeping at all.” said Cullen, stepping around the Seeker and towards the only bed in the room. Nevena was still there, much the same as she was when he sat down hours ago and continued to watch her sleep. That was all he was able to do. Watch her sleep and let the healing poultices and salves do their work. He was helpless. It was a feeling he was unfamiliar with and he hated it. There was nothing he could do to help her. No enemies he could slay or send people to hunt down. 

Perching on the edge of the bed, he brushed a few loose locks of hair away from his wife’s face. Her skin was cool and damp to the touch, cold sweat on her brow. She was deathly pale, the usual bloom of pink in her cheeks no where to be found. Her left arm was bandaged from her shoulder down to where was once her elbow joint. Now her arm ended there and he could see a dark red stain on the bandages around where the amputation was done.

He never heard screaming like it. The chaos of that moment when she part fell and part stumbled back through the Eluvian with Cassandra, Dorian, and Sera was a sight Cullen would never forget. The wound on her arm bleeding furiously, and the anchor - smaller than before - blazing with a ferocious light which seemed to shine through Nevena’s skin all the way up her arm. The relief of seeing her return alive was swiftly replaced by icy fear. He remembered running to her, but not being fast enough to catch her before she fell.

The rest was a blur. Carrying her to the infirmary, having her bite down on some kind of leather as physicians and healers judged the damage to her arm. How quickly it was discovered that her arm could not be saved, and the swift decision to remove it. What remained of the anchor was pulsing through her body as Cullen held her still. The piercing green light almost spilling from her mouth and blazing from her eyes at one point as she screamed. 

Nevena passed out eventually, either through pain, blood loss, or shock. Since then it had been a waiting game to see if she would fully recover. The prognosis was good. She woke once or twice, only briefly but was coherent in those moments. She was too lucid at the time to realise what happened… Cullen wasn’t sure how she would take it.

“You can’t do anything for her if you’re too tired to stand.” Cassandra chided. She stood just behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “The bed is for the two of you. Try to rest a while.”

Cullen sighed in return. He appreciated Cassandra’s attempts to get him to rest, but how could he? How could he, in good conscience, sleep while his wife of less than a week teetered on the edge of life and death. She was still prone to infection. There was no telling if the anchor hadn’t caused internal damage. And what if there were assassins? Either Qunari or agents of Fen’Harel? What if someone came after her while she was weak and unable to defend herself, and he lost her for good because he was sleeping?

“No.” He said eventually, “I’ll sleep when I know she’s out of danger.”

“Cullen…” Cassandra’s voice was weary. She did not have the energy to fight him, just as he did not have the energy to defend his choice. “Do you need me to bring you anything?”

“A basin of clean water, please.”

“Of course.”

Cassandra left him, returning a few minutes later with a clean brass basin of warm water and fresh cloth. She left him alone for good after that, and Cullen set about carefully cleaning Nevena’s face and neck of sweat and grime. He worked diligently for a while, tracing the same path over her skin with the cloth to keep his hands and mind focused. Her eyelids flickered and a few times it seemed as though she might awaken, but she slept on soundly until well after the water was cold and Cullen ran out of exposed skin to clean.

Healers came, changed Nevena’s bandages and reapplied a sickly sweet smelling balm and poultice. They didn’t speak to Cullen, and he did not speak to them beyond thanking them as they left. The small room descended into silence again. Cullen caught himself reaching for Nevena’s left hand as he sat with her. He realised his mistake and crossed to the other side of the bed to hold her right instead. 

This would take some getting used to.

Sometime in the late evening, Nevena stirred for the first time in more than twenty-four hours. Eyelids flickering as she woke, and a few quiet groans to denote her waking up. Cullen was alert in an instant, all tiredness fleeing from him at the sound of her voice.

“Nevena?” he grasped her hand and spoke as loud as he dared to let her know he was there. “Nev? Sweetheart?” Pushing his fingers back through her hair, he cupped her jaw. “Nev?”

“Cullen?” Her eyes opened, gradually bringing the room around her into focus. He watched as she searched blindly for him, until her gaze settled on him. “Cullen,” a small smile appeared on her lips. Relief swept through Cullen, threatening to choke him.

“Oh, Maker, I was so afraid!” He gasped, kissing her knuckles, “I thought I was going to lose you,” he kissed her knuckles again and inched closer to her to press a kiss to her forehead. 

“Solas.” Nevena murmured, her fingers closing tighter around Cullen’s hand. “Solas– he intends t–”

“I know.” Cullen said, “we know. Cassandra filled us in on Fen’Harel’s plan.”

“Cassandra?” Nevena repeated. “Cassandra, where is–” Her words faltered when she tried to move closer and could find no purchase. What colour had returned to her face fled and Cullen was sure he felt her whole body turn cold. 

“Nevena–”

“Cullen, I can’t feel my left arm.” Nevena said, eyes wide and fearful, looking beyond him at nothing. “Why can’t I feel my left arm? Why can’t I feel the anchor?” Her voice rose, growing more frantic with each question. “Cullen, what happened? Why can’t I feel my arm?”

“Shh,” Cullen smothered her into his chest and she curled up against him. She started to sob. She knew, he didn’t have to tell her anything. He wondered if maybe that was why she took so long to awaken. Maybe her mind was trying to protect her from the truth for as long as possible. 

“It’s all right… You’re all right.” He cradled her gently, rocking back and forth while running his fingers through her hair. Each cry made her body quake with its intensity. What remained of her left arm dangled at her side and it was like she was trying to get away from her own limb. “It doesn’t matter.” He kissed the top of her head. “What matters is you’re alive…” Tears stung in his own eyes the pain in his wife’s sobs making him physically ache inside. “Let’s just thank the Maker you’re alive.”


Hope this is okay. Not so much a big damn kiss, as I didn’t think it really suited the scene. I hope this is alright! I will get to some of the other prompts during the week. <3

Comments/reblogs/tags etc. all loved, appreciated and encouraged! <3 
Please support your writers. 

seekers

i am super interested in continuing the in the remulus regulus lives AU and like ½ of good “change one thing” AUs, the entire point of this AU is that Not That Much Changes In The Long Run.

that said, i am really invested in exploring how regulus humanizes and individualizes slytherins to harry, and i want to look @ how regulus does not compare harry to his parents like everyone else does; he knows more than most that it can be a curse or a burden to be defined by one’s family, even if you love them.

so this is a little moment after harry’s first quidditch match in 5th year (yes, the one he gets banned at) where regulus and harry have a little Talk. harry+umbridge’s lines at the beginning are lifted straight out of ootp. enjoy!!


           “Ban us?” said Harry. His voice sounded strangely distant. “From playing…ever again?”

          “Yes, Mr. Potter, I think a lifelong ban ought to do the trick,” said Umbridge, her smile widening still further as she watched him struggle to comprehend what she had said. “You and Mr. Weasley here. And I think, to be safe, this young man’s twin ought to be stopped too — if his teammates had not restrained him, I feel sure he would have attacked young Mr. Malfoy as well. I will want their broomsticks confiscated, of course; I shall keep them safely in my office, to make sure-”

           There was a small knock at the door; Umbridge, not used to being interrupted, widened her eyes in an expression of great surprise marred by a flicker of anger. Stiffly, she turned around to face the door once more, which was half-open. A familiar, handsome man stood there mildly, looking apologetic.

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Fic: someone who loves you with the lights on

They’ll only have one wedding night, one dreamy morning-after to remember when they’re old and gray.  Kurt wants to make the most of it.  Post-6x08 fic.  NC-17, ~4,700 words.   [AO3]

Kurt wakes with the sun in his face, mid-morning light pouring in through the gap in the curtains. He blinks a few times, seeing white, and starts to roll over – only to realize that he’s pinned where he lies, trapped by a leaden arm draped over his waist, a tousled head resting heavy and heat-damp on his chest.

Oh.  Right.

He closes his eyes and smiles.

He was dreaming of Blaine, he remembers: a silly little wisp of a dream, frozen yogurt and people-watching at the park.  He dreams about Blaine a lot, but for once, finally, he’s waking up to him, too.

And now he knows for sure that he’s going to keep waking up to him for the rest of his life.

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Chrysoprase by naoren
Gender: non-binary
Pronouns: she/her/hers
Sexual Orientation: asexual
Romantic Orientation: panromantic
Height: 5’11”
Weapon: a pair of green arms consisting of shoulder armor and blades for hands.
Gem Type: Chrysoprase
Likes: windy weather, green fields, bells
Dislikes: violence, destruction
Hobbies: travelling to spiritually strong places and meditating; reading books (specifically human biographies)
Talents/Skills: specializes in shapeshifting her ‘arms’; has a knack for mediating fights and consoling those feeling emotional turmoil.
Relationships: none currently
Personality: A quiet pacifist, she only speaks to ease arguments or to help others feel better. Although she dislikes violence, when the going gets tough, she can fight and does so with great skill. She is patient with others, but swift and decisive in defeating her opponents.
Other Images: X
Fusion Preference: Collaborate

Doctor Who: Amelia Pond  [ESFP]

 OFFICIAL TYPING by Charity / The Mod.

Extroverted Sensing (Se): Amy loves traveling with the Doctor, because it opens her up to a wide range of new experiences; she gets bored with an “ordinary life” (living out Rory’s dream of the “perfect life”) and tries on at least four different professions. Modeling and being a Kissagram require her physical involvement in the environment. Amy is quick to take charge and see possibilities in the environment; she sizes up people and circumstances without much hesitation, and makes swift decisions (grabbing a gun and shooting a threat to the Doctor, driving her car into the side of a house, inviting Eleven into bed, etc). She loves throwing herself into new environments, and adapts very quickly Amy’s recklessness may get her into trouble, or saves the day.

Introverted Feeling (Fi): She follows her “gut instincts,” which are usually right about people, and doesn’t stand for any nonsense. Amy focuses primarily on the people she loves most, but she doesn’t go out of her way to be verbally affectionate; she chooses to awkwardly tease instead, and is annoyed if people can’t “read” her meaning (“I’m talking about you, idiot!”). She is very emotional, and very kind, but doesn’t reveal her true feelings unless under intense stress and/or accusations that she is cold (her explanation for divorcing Rory, and how painful it was for her). She has a strong sense of independence, and doesn’t like to be controlled.

Extroverted Thinking (Te): If nothing is getting done, Amy becomes bossy. She tends to give direct orders, though sometimes she softens them with her sense of humor. If confronted with a situation that feels complicated, she reaches for the automatic, logical, factual conclusion and acts on it (pushing buttons, grabbing a sword, etc). If pressed to explain her motivations, she gives a rational argument – Rory wants kids, I can’t have them, so I’ll divorce him so he’ll find someone who can have kids. On the things she cares about most, she is unwavering in her decisions.

Introverted Intuition (Ni): Her insights are often profound. She immediately figures out that River Song is the Doctor’s future wife. She tries to influence the future by inspiring Van Gough in the hope of saving him. Amy understands the true reason for the star whale allowing himself to be captured, by drawing a parallel to the Doctor. In later seasons, her negative futuristic preoccupation with a single problem (Rory’s love of children, her inability to have them) causes her marriage troubles.