The nice, expensive trail mix, with twelve kinds of nuts and the big sunflower seeds and dried fruits, the kind Tony only rarely left sitting on the common floors for everyone to get at, was gone.
Clint had been looking forward to that stuff all morning.
All the way through a hellish morning “jog” with Steve, all through Nat handing him his ass on the training mats, all through firing the same batch of misweighted arrows over and over so Tony could take scans and fix the design, he’d been thinking, when this is done I get to go upstairs and hang out on the couch and watch Dog Cops and eat the good trail mix, guilt-free.
And it was gone.
Clint was gonna shoot somebody.
Just as soon as he figured out who’d taken the trail mix.
yesterday i saw a sad duck in the park who kept getting picked on by the other ducks so today i brought some trail mix and we had a nice lunch together. also i think he might be the duck who pooped on sam last week. if so, he is officially my new best friend.
So I stared at one of the manga panels where Aizen appears and there he had such a nice, pleasant smile, here now even more and well wanted to draw him in this particular form. Probably have to blame our lil talk B) @deusuprema.
“It’s 2 A.M, why are you watching Spongebob?” “…I had a nightmare.”
Snoring came from beside you when you woke from your dream. Your body was covered in sweat as you peeled the duvet away. The sweat had dripped down your forehead and fell from your face, and your breathing was heavy. It had been awhile since you had a nightmare like that, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep for the rest of the night. You glanced at your snoring boyfriend and slowly rose from the bed, watching carefully where you placed your feet.
The room was dark and you felt along the walls until you made it out of the bedroom and into the living room, where you flipped on the TV. You might as well watch cartoons if you weren’t going to sleep. While the TV started to hum with the sound of midnight cartoons, you turned on a small lamp and made your way to the kitchen, where you placed a kettle on the stove.
You stood waiting for it to whistle, to make sure you would grab it before it woke your sleeping boyfriend. The kettle began to boil and you removed it from the stove, poured yourself some decaffeinated Earl Grey, then went to curl up on the couch.
The blanket that you kept in the living room was a blessing as it devoured you in its warmth, and you stared blankly at the TV as the nightmare continued to replay in your mind. You hated nightmares with a passion and usually it would help to snuggle with your boyfriend, but you didn’t want to wake him up so late in the night because you knew he would be cranky and he had interviews to go to.
“Babe?” A voice groaned from the bedroom door. Your eyes were wide as they turned to your messy haired, half-awake boyfriend.
“Tom?” You whisper-yelled at him, slowly rising from your spot on the couch, the blanket slipping from your body. “What are you doing up?” You asked, staring at him like he had grown two heads. Tom stared back at you just as confused.
“It’s 2 A.M, why are you watching Spongebob?” He asked, peering at the TV with squinted eyes, ignoring your question. You followed his eyes to the TV that displayed the cartoon he named.
“…I had a nightmare.” You confessed, staring at the TV a moment longer before turning back to your boyfriend. Tom’s eyes fixated on you in concern. He started to make his way over, his body moving nimbly as it was still half-asleep.
“Awh, my poor baby.” He cooed, reaching you at the couch. His out stretched arms engulfed you as the two of you fell back onto the couch. His body was warm against yours - and yours had since cooled off from the before sweating.
Tom pulled you onto his lap and re-wrapped the blanket around you, covering himself with it’s warmth as well. Your body fell comfortably into his, soothing your aching mind. The nightmare you had had slipped further away as Tom’s arms tightened around you. Your head fell back against his chest as Spongebob played like a whisper in the background.
Your eyes were closed as you focused on the beating of Tom’s heart - like a lullaby, it soothed you into sleep.
Her body was pressed against Tom in a comforting way as his eyes drifted from her to the TV.
He had woken from his sleep to feel the emptiness in the bed beside him. His heart had started to hammer in worry when he realized that (F/N) was no longer in the bed. Tom’s hand frantically tore the duvet off the bed, looking for any clue of her absence. When there was none, he crawled out of the heap of blankets and checked the ensuite bathroom. His girlfriend wasn’t in there either, he could see a small flicker of light underneath the bedroom door that came from the living room, and a light moment of relief washed through him.
Tom made his way to the bedroom door and pushed it open to see (F/N) curled up on the couch with the large blanket he’d bought for her the year before.
He stared at his girlfriend in awe as her eyes flickered awake. He could tell how tired she was from the bags under her eyes. And Tom knew it was most certainly a nightmare that had strewn her awake at this godly hour. Her hair was a mess of knots and her body was slack under the blanket, her head barely staying upright.
“Babe?” Tom called out to her, her eyes turned to him in almost slow motion as they were glued to the dull light of the TV.
“Tom?” She asked to him, her voice a hoarse whisper. His heart fluttered at the sound, wishing he could heal it with honey. “What are you doing up?” His eyes flashed to the TV to see the cartoon that relayed on.
“It’s 2 A.M, why are you watching Spongebob?” He asked, his eyes turning back to her in a fragment of concern. (F/N)’s eyes followed his and a slow, almost ghostly smile followed the actions.
“…I had a nightmare.” Her voice scratched out. Tom reacted instantly, his body moving toward her before his brain could fully comprehend the comment.
“Awh, my poor baby.” He said, reaching her to pull her into his body. The blanket had fallen back to the couch when (F/N) stood to him. He embraced her shivering body and pulled her down on top him. The blanket encircled the two after he wrapped her in it.
Tom let out a sigh as his girlfriend rested her head against his chest. His body fully relaxed as he felt her against him. He was so worried something had happened to her when he realized she was no longer in the bed. It wasn’t very common for her to leave the bed at all during the night - let alone wake up Tom. He had felt her presence was gone and it startled him
Now, as she fell asleep in his lap, he tightened his arms around her. As if to protect her from her demons. He wanted to be her shield, and to ward off any danger or threat that could harm his Princess. His eyes dwindled on the TV before he looked down at her resting head. Tom’s heart swooned as he took in her sleeping appearance.
“I’ll make sure the demons stay away, love.” Tom whispered, kissing the top of her head, even though he knew she was fast asleep and didn’t hear a thing. He still wanted her to know that he would be there for her.
You and Seth Clearwater had never been close. The Clearwaters were family friends but you’d only hung out with their son a few times, and it hadn’t been enough to form a strong bond. He was too young for you; you were a year older and had other priorities.
But when Harry Clearwater, Seth’s father, passed away, your family was always there to comfort the rest of the family, which meant started to see Seth a lot more often.
“The Clearwaters are coming over for dinner,” your mother told you one morning at breakfast. A feeling of disappointment washed over you.
“But, Mom, I’m supposed to go to Port Angeles with my friends.”
She shook her head. “Next week, okay? Right now, they need us.”
No, they didn’t need you. Your mom was there for Sue Clearwater, and Seth and Leah had each other. You were little short of a stranger.
Still, you didn’t dare disobey. Hoping your mother would make good on the promise to let you go out the following week, you went to your room to change out of your pj’s.
After spending most of the day helping out with dinner, you waited in your room for the Clearwaters to arrive. It didn’t take long; only a few minutes had passed when you heard their car pull up in the driveway. You hurried to the window to look down below into the front yard.
Sue Clearwater looked tired. She had dark circles under her eyes and her usual thin face was even thinner. Beside her was Leah, who was as sullen as ever and looked just as unwilling to be here as you did.
And then Seth got out of the car, and you couldn’t help but stare. He’d grown. His frame was still lean but far more muscular, and there was a certain unasserted strength to him that you couldn’t help but notice. He didn’t look as young anymore, and the change had been almost instantaneous. He smiled when your mom hugged him — a pure, kind, grateful smile that seemed to warm you up from the inside.
As everyone gathered inside the house, you heard your mother call out your name from downstairs.
You took one last look in the mirror. You were wearing your favourite sweater — the softest you owned — and a pair of jeans, and though you’d thought you looked fine that morning, you were beginning to feel very self-conscious, and for no apparent reason. It certainly couldn’t be because of Seth.
You slowly made your way downstairs, and as you arrived in the foyer, everyone’s eyes turned to you. You glanced from Sue — who smiled — to Leah — who glared — to Seth — whose mouth fell open. His breathing quickened, like was gasping for air but could never get enough.
It dawned on you that he was beautiful. With black hair and dark eyes and deep russet skin, he looked almost godly, like something out of a myth.
Sue nudged him and he seemed to snap out of his trance. Luckily enough, your mother and father hadn’t noticed the slight change in Seth’s behaviour. You wordlessly followed everyone to the dining room, with Seth close behind you.
It scared you how you were suddenly so aware of him. During dinner and even after, every time he moved or shifted — even ever so slightly — you noticed. The way his smiles reached his eyes made your breath hitch painfully in your throat, like a knot you couldn’t swallow down.
Why hadn’t you noticed how perfect he was sooner? He wasn’t too young for you. He was just right.
When the Clearwaters left, you cleaned up in silence. You continued to think about Seth, afraid that if you stopped, his happy smile would start fading away from your memories. You desperately wanted to see him again, though you couldn’t explain why. Nothing made sense to you anymore, except that being around him that evening had made you the happiest you’d been in a long time.
summary: “Logan put his hand up to the glass in a sense of pure wonder. The creature put its webbed hand up, seeming to feel the same way. For just a moment, all was still. Of course, this was interrupted."
You know the drill: don’t know what he’s saying but he looks amazing saying it. Also the way he’s sitting amuses me because I remember once in an interview where he said he always sits like that and his foot falls asleep and he looks like an idiot when he gets up. Relatable man lol.
I rewatched my second favorite movie - Rise of the Guardians - the other day and elaborated, rather eagerly, to my friend my headcanon about Jack Frost.
Because I love the ever-loving underworld out of that movie, but what always bugged me was that Jack Frost - who is based on a Norse god - was only created 300 years ago. Uhm. So you’re erasing the god from your universe then? And if so, where DOES the phrase Jack Frost nipping at your nose come from? No, no. Jökul Frosti has to still be A Thing in the Rise of the Guardians universe. Here’s my reasoning how!
Jack Frost proves to be a mischievous prankster. So let’s assume he was also like that as a god. Jökul Frosti, the mischievous prankster, would thus have gotten along well with Loki. The two of them cooking up elaborate pranks.
One day, one prank goes wrong and Odin is so not pleased with Jökul. A punishment is due.
Jökul Frosti is stripped of his memories and powers and reborn as a mortal - Jackson Overland - to live one life-time as a human and maybe learn from his mistakes.
Only things go wrong. He dies a violent death and that messes things up. While his godly powers and appearance - the white hair and pale skin and blue eyes - return… his memories don’t.
Máni, the Norse god of the moon, has mercy on the lost boy and at the very least gives him his name - Jack Frost. After all we call the “Man in the Moon” Many too, which since day one always made me think of the Norse god.
Additionally, Jack can fly. Why would the snow-bringer be able to fly? Because of the wind. He says so himself “Take me home, wind”. Why would the wind obey Jack? Oh, simple. Because Kári, god of the wind, is the father of Jökul Frosti. And while all other gods agreed to sit this out and see if Jack will ever regain his memories on his own, Kári does not abandon his own son.
The teeth Toothiana stored however are Jack’s mortal teeth - and thus only hold his mortal memories.
It just always bugged me that a) the god Jökul Frosti seems to just not be a thing, b) Jack’s appearance changed so utterly and completely, c) we never meet another seasonal spirit and d) it also doesn’t make much sense that the Man in the Moon went “Oh, in 300 years I will need you as a Guardian of fun… so… now I give you… uh… snow powers? I guess?”. And does that imply that EVERY person who ever died to save someone else was then turned into a spirit? But then Jack should not have been alone for the past 300 years because there should be a shit-ton of other spirits!
So yeah, Jackson Overland was Jökul Frosti’s punishment.
(I’m aware that there’s a book that probably attempts to explain that in context of the book-series, but honestly I prefer to see those two a little more separated and I don’t see much logic in Nightlight being Jack Frost? What the hell? Him being Jökul Frosti makes… more sense? To me at least. Not to mention, the smooth tie-in possibility with Jack as a Norse god. Considering How to Train Your Dragon is about, ya know, Vikings. Who worshiped the Norse gods. Like Jökul Frosti. And I do love a reasonable crossover.)
Long ago (1920’s), a boy lived in a house as old as he was. He lived alone— yet he had many friends. The boy sang, and sometimes played the cello.
In the spring time, he opened up all the windows so that when he used his musical talents, all those that passed by could hear. People would stand in front of his house and listen to him but none who heard his voice ever saw his face.
One day, he went into town to buy some food and clothes when a man accidentally bumped into him. “Ah, pardon me…” The boy turned to the man, astounded.
He was obviously a wealthy man, his top hat, and three piece suit fitted him well, a small cane at his arm. A streak of white accented his black hair and his face could only been described as godly.
The man however, was just as mesmerized by the smaller young man before him. His eyes were similar to the oceans after a storm, skin like the wet sand the waves rolled over. “No… pardon me.” He swallowed regaining his swagger. “My name is Lord Shiro.” He extended a soft hand.
“I know, sir. My name is Lance. It’s nice to meet you.” Lance grinned and placed a papaya in Shiro’s hand. “It’s my favorite…” he chuckled.
Shiro— though he thought it to be an odd gift, took the fruit and adjusted his tie. “Thank you. Well then, I must be off.” He tipped his hat to Lance and went on his merry way.
After that, Lance and Shiro had many run in's— talking and laughing all the time. Shiro had expressed his feelings towards Lance, yet their complications. Shiro was married to the beautiful woman by the name of Lady Allura, her family had descended from royalty decades ago— though Shiro loved her, Lance consumed his thoughts.
Their affair grew steadily, Shiro always meeting Lance in town or at his house. People began to catch wind of the relationship and someone told Allura.
The next week, Shiro was found dead outside of town, laid as if he was in a coffin with care and love, a small vine of pink flowers placed across the bridge of his nose and over his eyes.
Shiro was poisoned by his wife. She knew about the affair and wanted to make her husband pay for the pain he had caused her.
Word traveled fast through the small town and Lance began to sing sad songs, play his cello in minor key until he stopped all together. His songs melted into moans of tragic love lost.
Lance could no longer bear life without his beloved, so he took his own life to be with Shiro. The great sorrow Lance suffered on Earth would not let him move on. Lance was trapped as a ghost in his house.
Some who have lived in his home began to hear and see things. They claim to have heard wails coming from a certain room in the house, wails for a person named Shiro. Others claim to hear singing or a musical instrument from the very same room. Those who are lucky enough, encounter a young man without a face but tears streaming down his face. He would be seen crying on the stairs or playing a cello.
People who try to interact with him only get one response: “Shiro is that you my love? It’s Lance! Please come back to me!” And nothing more. He still walks the halls of his home… forever.