team mel


“If you fight like a married couple, talk like best friends, flirt like first lovers and protect each other like siblings then you know you are meant to be together.”


for the amazing ladies of the Downton whatsapp group ;) 


(( my good pal @suckcark designed mel’s team for me a while back and this is. super messy, i cant draw pokes at all but!! i rlly love the team, its a perfect fit. i forgot to say who all is here so: galvantula, marowak, garchomp, dodrio, bouffalant, and infernape! she’s probably drawn to fighting, ground and fire types tbh! but some just find a way into her heart regardless ))

anonymous asked:

headcanon prompt request! team 7 playing twister which ends up with sasuke and sakura getting all the positions that invade each other's personal space.

this had been in my inbox for nearly a year (i’d always kept it to write something about it someday) and a few months ago I finally picked it up to start writing a drabble. Idk what happened, either I got busy or didn’t know how to follow that, but I drafted it and forgot about it until yesterday, when I went through my drafts and found it again. I sent the little thing I’d written to a friend, who got overtly excited about it–thus inspiring me to just finish it LOL. Enjoy!!

Rated K+

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Naruto’s grin grew wider, and he snickered. “Left hand on yellow, that’s what the spinny thing says, bastard.”

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. He tilted his chin up, huffing with an air of challenge. “I don’t believe you–show me!”

Naruto snorted and reached to grab the board, waving it proudly in his face. “See, I’m not lying!” he said smugly.

“Spin it again,” Sasuke demanded.

“What!? That’s not how it works, bastard!”

Gritting his teeth, he spat out, “Spin it again, idiot! Clearly you’ve been cheating–”

I am not a cheater!” Naruto growled. “Don’t blame me for all the awkward positions it’s giving you–I got nothing to do with it!”

“Like hell you didn’t–”

“Just stop it!” Sakura finally cut in, sounding completely exasperated. “You guys are acting like complete children! It’s just a stupid game.” Craning her neck to look at Sasuke, she frowned. “Look, Sasuke-kun… I understand that it might be getting on your nerves because of your problems with personal space but… you know, this is kind of what the game is about.”

“I know that,” he replied swiftly, scowling. “I don’t care about the awkward positions—the idiot is clearly trying to—”

“You say I cheated one more time, bastard, I dare you!” Naruto snarled, pointing threateningly at him. “I’ll knock you on your ass!”

Keep reading

I don’t care how many detail canon changes.

I still maintain that Clint Barton was a tipsy weepy sobbing mess at the MelDrew wedding reception because “you two are perfect, and you love each other so much, and you guys should live happily ever after for the next million years”, and he also stole Coulson’s spot for the Best Man Speech, and danced with Melinda and Andrew like 15 times.

You cannot take this away from me okay.

Woodlands Gothic

You and your friends decide to go to Chick-fil-A for lunch on an early release day. The kid sitting behind you pipes up “Me and my friends are going, too.” The girl behind you says the same thing. Soon, the room is filled with teenagers saying that they and their friends planned on going to Chick-fil-A for lunch. They all have glazed looks in their eyes. You wonder if it would be smarter to go to Crust. 

Your friend texts you how to get to their house. “Oh yeah, it’s in the Hazelcrest subdivision, right off Flintridge. Just take a left and keep going until you see number 28.” You turn into Hazelcrest. You take the left. You continue driving. And driving. And driving. The house numbers are written in a language you do not understand. The sky is getting darker, although it is only one o’clock. Frost has begun to collect on the grass. You miss your family.

The landscaping men look at you as you walk by. Their eyes are dark but fiery. They smile and wave; you can see all of their teeth. 

Your neighbor pulls in and parks in their driveway. You do not see them get out of the car. Later, while walking your dog, you step on the grass of the lawn. The woman across the street emerges from her home and asks you what you’re doing. You find yourself touching the front door of the home, the heavily varnished wood smooth under your fingertips. You cannot remember the name or the face of the person who lives here.

You ask Mr. Stratton the name of the painting he is showing on the projector. He turns to look at you, your eyes meet. He opens his mouth and begins screaming. He does not stop.

Mr. Rowland laughs as he tells you about the Cold War. His smile is false but ever-present. The other children laugh and smile back at him. You do not. You fear for your life. 

You have been trying to get out of the school parking lot. It is April, it is hot outside. It has been two hours. You can feel your car begin to melt. 

You used to go into the woods behind your house, until your parents warned you it was dangerous. Whenever you ask them what’s so dangerous about it, they avert their eyes and mutter something about snakes or spiders. At night, you can hear footfalls in those woods, and the sliding of scales on leaves whispers to you to leave your bed and “return home.”