the best architect

#3 My Neighbor's A Jerk

Summary: (Office AU) There’s this mutual feeling between you and your jerk of a neighbor, called hate. With every ounce of passion filled in your veins you both commence that feeling from day one of meeting each other. But what happens once, one of you are at the receiving end of the other’s help? Maybe you will learn how to co-operate?

Word Count: 2708

Pairing: Bucky x fem!Reader

Genre: RomCom

Warning: none

Author’s Note: finally, ik. But i don’t think i like this chapter all that very much. But still, enjoy! :)

Main Masterlist

“My Neighbor’s A Jerk” Masterlist

Previous Part | Next Part


(gif is not mine*)

Keep reading

Hey there! Yesterday we reach 5k, so, first of all, thank you so much!! We are so grateful we want to do something special for you, and we were inspired by the Easter Blog Awards run by the lovely @juliasacads so, we decide to create our own blog awards!

The point of this awards is to get to know you all a bit more and of course, promote you! All you have to do is reblog this post, it would be nice if you were following us, but we won’t check. Easy right?

All the winners will get:

  •  A follow from us (if we are not already following you!)
  • +100 queue/reblog posts
  • 1 screenie or self-promo (the one that you prefer)
  • You’ll have a permanent link in our favorites blog section on our blog (which will do after the awards)
  • Two new friends!!

We decided to create a few categories so we’ll get more winners! In every category will be two or three winners, it’ll depend on the number of participants! So, here you have the categories:

  • Super pencil (Favorite URL)
  • Gold compass (Favorite icon)
  • Stronger structure (Favorite theme)
  • Harder Brick (Favorite posts)
  • Squarer square (Best Handwriting)
  • Straighter line (Favorite notes)
  • Golden square (Favorite Bujo)
  • Golden plans (Cutest doodles)
  • Rounderer circle (Favorite originals)
  • Harder concrete (Favorite stationary)
  • Brilliant mind (Favorite masterpost)
  • Cuter cuter (Best Printables)
  • Rise up architect (Favorite study place)
  • Architect in process (Favorite baby blog (less than 1K))
  • Architect of the year (Nicest blogger)

If you have original content you can add the tag in the tags, and if you’re less that 1K and you want to enter in Favorite baby blog, mention it in the tags too! We can’t wait to see all of your blogs and to hear more from all of you! And of course, if you want to ask us anything or just wanna talk, we’re always here for you! 

We also have to give credit to the amazing @narglestudies for making the lettering of architstudy, we’re absolutely in love with it! You can also find the plant doodles of the banner in our doodles post here!

You can participate till 1 of June, and the winners will be announced a week later (we’ll be on holiday already yaaay!)

• Pipeynabeth •

One’s a lesbian praetor of the Twelfth Legion, one is a bi girl who wants to be the best architect ever and one is a pansexual activist who just wants to destroy homophobes, transphobes, racists, misogynists and animal abusers. Together they are the cutest girlfriends in town.

anonymous asked:

can you do the myth of icarus?

I 400% can, sweet anon! Anyone who doesn’t want to read a badly told story about Ancient Greece’s very own Houdini should probably press J on their keyboard now as this is pretty long. Relevant historical / literary info under the Read More, as always!

OK, so this story starts with a dude named Daedalus. The most important thing that you have to keep in mind about this dude is that he’s the world’s best inventor and architect. Like, it’s just ridiculous. Name anything, and Daedalus probably invented it (and Thomas Edison probably took the credit). Now, in a previous myth, Daedalus had been contracted on a self-employed freelance basis by King Minos of Crete to build a massive labyrinth in which to house the king’s stepson, a hideous man-bull-beast named the minotaur (and that’s a myth for another day). In yet another previous myth, Daedalus had built a life-size cow suit for a cursed queen who had fallen in love with a bull, enabling both rampant bestiality and the conception of the aforementioned minotaur, but that’s yet another myth for a much darker day.

Anyway, once he’s contracted Daedalus to build this labyrinth to imprison the bad apple on his family tree, Minos then suffers from a fit of kingly paranoia and shoves Daedalus into a tower, along with his son, Icarus, so that Daedalus won’t tell anyone the layout of the labyrinth and release Minos’ hideous stepson. Presumably, Minos is just really, really hyper-aware that it would be bad news for the popularity polls if word got out that his wife had fucked a cow and sired a half-bull monstrosity. Whatever his reasoning, Daedalus is now languishing in his tower, along with his idiot spawn.

I mean, we need to get this out of the way right now. Firstly, Minos was clearly a fucking idiot, because at no point did he think ‘hang on a minute, this dude is basically Archie from Balamory*, he could probably construct the Hadron Collider out of tin foil and bits of paper cups, maybe I should check out that tower and make sure it’s free of any and all potential building materials before I shove this guy in there’. Secondly, I really have to make it clear right now that, despite his dad’s renowned intellectual brilliance, Icarus is not the sharpest tool in the shed. He’s the kind of guy who spends the entire Geography lesson talking about what happened last night on Waterloo Road and can’t even remember if Africa is a country or a continent. Heck, he’s not even the sharpest tool in a shed full of tools discarded because they are no longer sharp enough to cut through crepe paper. There are no existing metaphors to describe Icarus’ dull wit, except to say that he is so dull that he would probably get lost in a universe of beige. He is not merely a sandwich short of a picnic; he is a filling short of a sandwich. He is margarine on a bit of floppy bread stuck behind the fridge.

Anyway. Apparently, Minos never thinks even for a second to get rid of the seemingly unlimited supply of candle wax and bird feathers that are inexplicably present in this tower, and no sooner has Daedalus been shoved through the tower door by an underpaid guard on Minos’ payroll, he has an escape plan. Picking up the aforementioned unlimited supply of bird feathers and candle wax, Daedalus is like “hey Icarus, don’t even worry right now, we’ll be out of here in a flash” and Icarus is like “whatever dad, just do something with that unlimited supply of bird feathers and candle wax and LEAVE ME ALONE, you don’t even know what I’m going through right now” and Daedalus makes a mental note to get that paternity test he’s been meaning to get for a while, and gets to work. Not on the paternity test, though - on the bitchin’ BIRD WINGS that he’s making. Because hey, he hasn’t got the time or the patience to go Rapunzel on this shit; he’s just going to fly the fuck out of there, like Birdman.

After a few months, Daedalus has made these two awesome pairs of wings. Ovid is really clear on this point that these wings are made out of wax, feathers, twine and reeds, but presumably using the twine that Minos the idiot left in the tower to make some sort of ladder just isn’t a pimpin’ enough option for Daedalus, who prefers his escape plans to be over-designed and flashy as disco testicles. So, Daedalus hands over this pair of wings to Icarus, and Icarus is all “oh my God dad, this is so embarrassing, I don’t want to be caught DEAD flying these, the girls are going to laugh at me so hard” and Daedalus is like “well son, if we stay here much longer we’ll probably be caught with these wings and then we’ll be dead, so just put the wings on like a good waste of space, would you?” and Icarus sighs melodramatically and flicks his fringe out of his eyes and puts the wings on. 

Just before they’re about to fly out of the window, Daedalus turns to Icarus and says “look, you’ve honestly brought me nothing but pain and irritation and you’re basically genetic eczema, but I’m going to tell you this anyway: these wings are made of wax, right?” and Icarus nods and a bit of dribble trickles down his chin and Daedalus continues “so that means that it’s absolutely 100% not going to end well if you fly near the Sun because wax has this really strong tendency to melt and become a viscous liquid when exposed to temperatures above about 45 degrees Celsius, and the Sun has an approximate surface temperature of around 5,500 degrees Celsius, and the smaller the distance between you and the Sun, the greater the temperature will be and thus the greater the likelihood of the wax meeting its melting point and causing the construction of the wings to fail” and then Daedalus realises that Icarus hasn’t blinked in about a minute and his left eye is twitching and there’s some sort of clear fluid coming out of his nose and so Daedalus rolls his eyes and prays for his wife’s infidelity and says “no go near Sun or wax melty melty” and Icarus nods and says “OK, thank” and wipes his nose and they stand on the window ledge and then Daedalus says “on the count of five, we jump” and Icarus says “1, 2, 3, 5” and jumps and Daedalus says “damnit, I thought we’d got to 10 last time” and follows his pitiable son.

It all goes pretty well for a while - the wings work like a fucking charm, despite being physically impossible, because Daedalus doesn’t give a fuck about physics, damnit, he’s built a labyrinth to imprison a terrifying man-bull-beast and he’s built a lifesize cow suit so convincing that it caused the conception of the aforementioned man-bull-beast, and so he doesn’t give two half shits about whether or not it’s possible to fly on wings made from pigeon and bits of candle. Anyway, they’ve got a few miles away and they’re flying over the sea and Daedalus is making some really cool one-liner remarks like “is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it’s Daedalus and his worthless son” when he suddenly looks up and his heart does a little jump when he sees that Icarus is flying higher and higher

and Daedalus can’t hear him because he’s too far below, but Icarus is saying “Sun, Sun, shiny, so shiny” and Daedalus is like “damnit, Icarus, you are not a moth, now come down here young man before your wings melt and you fall to your inevitable watery death” but Icarus can’t hear him and he keeps climbing higher and higher and higher and then suddenly one of his wings starts to melt and twist into this very unwinglike shape and then Icarus is falling because an amorphous blob isn’t very aerodynamic, no matter whether it’s made from pigeon and bits of candle or not, and then Icarus has fallen and Daedalus looks below and he can see this ring of disturbed water in the ocean, and he sighs and swoops down on his intact wings, and he sees Icarus dead beneath the water. 

And Daedalus is all “are you even real right now? I mean, come on, I swear your mother must have had an affair with the milkman or something. I know that intelligence isn’t necessarily genetic, but this is just ridiculous” but Icarus doesn’t say anything because he’s 0% capable of speech any more due to being very dead and also underwater, and so Daedalus sighs and slumps his shoulders and says “I feel inexplicably sad about your death, but I suppose this does mean that I can now continue my great work for mankind completely unhindered” and Icarus still doesn’t say anything and Daedalus rolls his eyes and says “fine, oh my gods, I’ll ask them to name the sea after you, you always have to have the last word don’t you, kids these days, no respect for their awesome airborne parents” and then he flies off and over the newly named Icarian sea and Daedalus lives a life dedicated to his work and never has to wipe slop off his son’s chin again.

Keep reading

Demigods and talents not attributed to their godly parentage/lineage. (based on little to no real facts)

Percy Jackson - He can garden and cook like no one’s business because he used to watch his mom do those things so he got that from her.

Annabeth Chase - She can dance so well. She could be a professional if she wasn’t so busy becoming the world’s best architect and preventing the world from doom and all that unimportant stuff

Nico Di Angelo - He can speak so many languages. Mainly, because he used to always shadow travel all over the world by mistake so he had to learn a bit.

Thalia Grace - She can sew. You see her leather jacket? Yeah, she made that. That Jacket is one of a fucking kind.

Clarisse La Rue - She is so good with children. You think they’re scared of her? Nah, man she’s a big cuddly teddy bear. (If big cuddly teddy bears were extremely violent) Why else would she be godmother to baby Chuck?

anonymous asked:

pjo highschool reunion continued??!?! I MiSS iT!!!! Too good.

(like it says on the tin, this is a continuation of my highschool reunion AU. Percy and Annabeth dated in highschool, only to break up after college and life pulls them apart. They come together again at their highschool reunion, and the fics in the series cover what happens next.)


Annabeth has taken to browsing job listings.

It’s mostly accidental at first, some late-night googling leading her from page to page until she ends up at the city fire department. Careers blinks up at her, even though she’s pretty sure it’s not coded to do that. There’s a small chance it’s just her brain on overdrive.

No listings, the page says, and she releases a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.

“It’s only been three months,” she reminds herself. “It’d be stupid to move after three months.”


The modern work week, thanks to the invention of smartphones and email, has a certain malleable quality these days. It stretches it’s way into evenings, heaves its bulk into weekends. Annabeth loves her work and the firm’s overtime policy doesn’t hurt either. But after that first missed weekend, it’s become a known thing around the office; every few weeks, less than once a month, Annabeth’s weekends become non-negotiable.

“So.” Percy throws an arm over her shoulder as they leave the airport, an easy familiarity that she’ll never admit - out loud - she loves. He isn’t possessive or proprietary about it like some of the men in her past have been. “Whose life am I ruining this month?”

She curls an arm around his waist, letting her head drop onto his shoulder. Her body aches in that way only too many hours in front of a desk can cause. “Please, this is Annabeth Chase you’re talking to.” She pauses. “My client work is up to date, so my boss has to sit on the fact that he can’t rope his best architect into taking on extra until Monday.”

Percy laughs, and Annabeth smiles into the sound. “I gotta say, that ego loses something over the phone. Definitely more impressive in pers - hey!”

She pulls her elbow out of his side, grinning at him. “Sorry, that was my ego. It’s a little hard to manoeuvre sometimes.”

Sometimes, she says.”

“My elbow doesn’t stop existing just because I’ve moved it away, you know.”

He laughs again, brushing a kiss over her forehead. “I missed you,” he says, and the honesty in his voice is so sharp, it almost hurts.

Her arms tighten around his waist. She kisses him properly. “Yeah. I missed you too.”


Maybe it’s because she’s always lived close to the water. She forgets how beautiful it is, sometimes. How lucky she is to be able to see it every day, how fortunate that she can head down on her lunch break if she chooses, take her shoes off and walk through the sand and the shallows.

She never seems to have the time.

Percy doesn’t forget. Of course, his job reminds him almost daily of just how important it is, so maybe that’s why. Or maybe it’s because he’s always lived close to the water.

“It’s a good beach,” he says happily, as they wade through the incoming tide, ankle deep. Their hands tangle together; neither of them talks about it out loud much, but they take every opportunity to be in physical contact when they can be. Even if it’s just like this.

“Oh, really? So what’s it rate on the Percy Jackson Good Beach Scale?”

His free hand lifts to his mouth, mock-thoughtful. “Annabeth Chase, asking the tough questions.”

“I’m a no holds barred  kind of girl.”

“That’s why I love you.”

It slides into the air so easily, it takes both of them a moment to realise that it’s the first time - well, the second first time - it’s been said out loud.


Annabeth still remembers the first-first time, the two of them shrieking and breathless, adrenaline pumping through them as they tread water, staring up at the cliff they’d just jumped off.

Clarisse La Rue gives her a dare, and Annabeth has never been able to turn down a dare. She’s also never jumped off a cliff into the ocean before, and when faced with the height, quietly curses her own pride. She can’t back down, but holy crap, they’re a long way up.

Percy takes her hand without hesitation.

“Hey!” Clarisse bellows. “That’s cheating.”

Percy tosses her the finger over his shoulder. “You just said she had to go, La Rue,” he points out. “You didn’t say who could go with her. You can come too, if you want.”

Clarisse does not want. A wild sort of laughter pushes at Annabeth’s chest as she throws a smirk at the other girl along with Percy’s gesture, although she manages to keep the sound itself inside.

“Ready?” Percy asks, excitement and a little bit of fear lighting up those sea-green eyes.

“No,” Annabeth admits, and they both scream as they jump.

The free-fall is exhilaration and terror at the same time, and they hit the water like another world. Annabeth expects it to be the shock of reality, but that comes later (and it isn’t a shock, but a slow drag, pulling them apart). The sea closes over their head. Annabeth knows that there’s a whole eco-system below the surface that doesn’t rely on humans, that people can only actively hurt, but in that moment the whole ocean belongs to Percy and Annabeth.

They break the surface only when air becomes a need instead of a want, their breathless laughter bouncing off the rocky face of the cliff. A cluster of heads peer over the edge down at them, but Annabeth is too busy throwing her arms around her boyfriend to give a shit. “I love you,” she gasps, and they go under again as Percy forgets utterly, for a second, how to swim.

They’re sixteen years old, and when he splutters it back around a mouthful of water, Annabeth knows they’re going to last forever.


Forever, as it turns out, only lasted a few years. Except here they are over a decade later, the chill waters of the Pacific Ocean swirling around their ankles in a way that refuses to have an appropriate metaphor drawn out of it. They stare at each other, wide-eyed. Annabeth has never been so grateful for being almost as tall as he is.

She waits a second, for his tongue to stumble over the words. For him to panic and take them back, or modify them, try and change the air itself sitting between them because they’re twenty-eight now and there’s no such thing as forever. But a mulish look crosses his face as he sets his jaw, and doesn’t look away from her.

And Annabeth laughs, gathering the words somewhere deep inside her and storing them along with the first-first time. She leans up and kisses him, hard, again and again until someone yells at them to get a room. “I love you,” she breathes into him. “I love you.”


“I’ve been offered a job,” he says. It’s later, and he’s in bed. Annabeth, leaning against the en suite door frame dressed in his shirt and nothing else, tears her gaze away from the place where the sheet drapes over his waist.

“What?” She frowns. “But there’s nothing going.”

He raises his eyebrows at her. “You checked?”

Multiple times since the first time. Annabeth looks up at the ceiling. “I was curious.”

But Percy is grinning again, and curse Sally Jackson for giving him that stupid, infectious smile. He crawls across the mattress, reach out to tug her back onto the bed with him. She goes willingly, pushing him back until she straddles his hips. Her thighs brush his sides.

“Thinking about becoming a firefighter?”

“Percy.”

“You’d look good in the gear.”

“Isn’t the point of a fire fighting suit to cover every last inch of you?”

He rakes his eyes over her body, and she shivers. “Haven’t you ever seen one of our calendars? You don’t have to wear all of it.”

“Percy Jackson.” She leans in. “Are you telling me that you’re posed for a firefighter calendar, and are only just letting me know?”

A slow flush works its way up his chest, embarrassment as much as desire. She laughs, momentarily distracted from I’ve been offered a job. It’s been four months, which is not that much more than three months. She loves him, but that’s faded before. Annabeth is aware she is not an easy person to live with, and she knows Percy. They’ve never lived together. If love can fade from distance, can it do the same with proximity?

Will she lose him all over again?

“Do you remember Rachel?”

Annabeth pauses. Of course she remembers Rachel, who is still a friend of hers - although not as close with her as she is with Percy. What she is less certain of is why Rachel is coming up now.

“The job’s here,” he says hastily. “Uh. In case that wasn’t obvious. And Rachel’s taken over some of the family business. I’m pretty sure she’s going to overthrow her dad some day from within? But right now she’s in charge of a couple of hotels. She says I can - that I can stay in a suite for a bit. Here. Until I get settled.”

There’s no denying that the hope in his voice says that he wants to settle with Annabeth. But he knows her. He’s taken the care to - to make other arrangements, to take things slowly. He wants this to work as much as she does.

Annabeth remembers standing on the edge of the cliff, staring out at the ocean, staring at him and feeling exactly the same way. They had jumped then. The end of it all had stung, but god, the rush had been worth it. She can see that now, with the clarity of distance. Coming together had been necessary. So was moving apart.

“Don’t be stupid,” she says finally. “You can stay with me.”

Slow has been good for them. But Annabeth has always been something of an adrenaline junkie.

3

Oh look, a new graphic reminding you to vote for Architects’ “All Our Gods Have Abandoned Us” for Album of the Year and Ali Dean for Best Bassist at the APMA’s 2017! 

Defiance, Part 3

[Part 1 | Part 2]

Summary: Katara never thought she’d take shelter from the Water Tribe in the Fire Nation. Zuko never thought he’d build a life with someone he is only supposed to be seeing for fun. And neither one knows just how close their countries are to self-destruction. 

 [For Zutara month, Day 3, “A New Year”]

“So they’re finally sending someone.”

A low chortle was heard around the council table, and Zuko did his best to control his temper. One half-hearted nighttime chase in pursuit of a smuggler hadn’t yielded what he’d hoped for. He was certain that one of the men debating policy with him today was selling arms—for some unknown purpose—to the Earth Kingdom. But instead of nabbing a go-between who might possibly turn in his associates, or even a payload of blasting jelly, what had he discovered? Circus animals. Rare Earth Kingdom circus animals, who were beating their forelimbs against their cages and making such a racket Zuko didn’t know how the operation had been kept quiet in the first place. It turned out Zuko had mistaken his target for a twin brother who was also in the smuggling business, and who had all but certainly been informed by now of the masked figure who was dogging him. It had not been a good hunt.

And now, he had to suffer through hours of councilmen attempting to alter the treaty with the Water Tribes before its ambassador had even set foot in the Caldera.

Keep reading

Another Night

[1] [2]

‘So what are you doing?’ you read his text a smile lingering on your face far past it being normal. You didn’t know why he made you happy but he did and you don’t know what you and he were but you were happy with the arrangement. You put your phone down for a while not wanting to seem too eager. You looked up back to your computer when you felt someone staring. You didn’t even notice your friend opening the door to your room. ‘What?’ you asked rather defensively at her smirk and knowing looks.

‘Nothing.’ She shrugged walking to your table and putting down the blue prints.

‘Shut up.’ You told her taking the blue prints she had given to you and opening them.

‘I didn’t say anything.’ She laughed at your dubious tone.

‘Yeah let’s stay that way.’ You rolled back the blue prints and put it to the side of your table and going back to your computer when she just stayed there smiling at you. ‘Don’t you have somewhere to be?’ you asked not even looking away from your computer but her wide grin was taking a side toll to your focus.

‘Not really.’

‘Well you don’t have to be here either.’

‘Well that depends doesn’t it?’ she shrugged her shoulder and pursed her lips when you narrowed your eyes at her.

‘On what?’

‘On what you did last weekend?’ the smirk on her face gave you the sign to turn your head back to your computer and focused back on your work. ‘Or rather who you d-’ she didn’t even get to finish her sentence as you threw your pen and it pegged her at the shoulder. She laughed at how irritated you look. ‘Just get out.’ You rolled your eyes at how nosey she was being. She had been going on and on about Kiseok from that morning when you came to your office late and she had said in her words ‘Your face scream I just had sex.’

Keep reading

Scott - Corypheus’ new best friend. Former Deli Worker.  Mom made him quit because it was getting in the way of band practice. Scott has braces and a lisp. His costume – A Grey Warden

Corypheus/Architect: Their costume: The Maker and Andraste. The Architect is very serious about the concept of this costume, and once again is STRESSING CORYPHEUS OUT!

Jim (not pictured): Former-manager of the Deli is having a Halloween Party. He has invited Scott and a plus one. Costume: Tevinter Magister–he got the costume out of a bag at his local super-store.

Scene:  

Corypheus watches as Scott walks up to the festively decorated house. “Don’t worry, Corypheuth!” the small boy says brightly, “Thith will be fun!”

“It might do us some good to get out. I did have these fabrics specially ordered from Rivain,” notes the Architect smoothing down his blonde wig. “I do hope they like my marzipan pumpkin petit-fours. It’s an ancient Orlesian recipe, from those golden days when they lived under Tevinter’s shadow.”

Corypheus steps onto the porch and looks around at the cheap crepe paper and rubber bat decorations in disgust, “Be this some dream I wake from?” He whirls in a semi-circle, swiping at cheap hangings meant to resemble spider webs. “Am I in dwarven lands?!”

Jim steps forward to greet his guests, smile bright and easy. He smoothes down his magister robes.

“You!” Corypheus points one long, erotic talon in Jim’s direction. “Serve you at the Temple of Dumat?” As Corypheus’s voice booms through the room, Jim knows. He knows. His face locks in a rictus of terror. That fateful day at the deli flashes before his eyes. He’s sweating so much he can feel one half of his fake mustache slip off his lip.

“These decorations! They will avail you nothing! You, in the paltry magister outfit!” Corypheus points at Jim. “Do you dare to oppose my divine will! Whoever you be, you owe fealty to the Pontifex Maximus of Dumat. On your knees!! All of you!

“Perhaps, before the kneeling, you might want to sample my seasonal apertifs?” The Architect says, trying to defuse the situation a bit.

Jim, opens the door wider. “Maker, per-per-per-serve me.”

“I am your Maker now!” booms Corypheus.

“Don’t worry, Jim! Thith will be a fun night,” Scott smiles as Corypheus wails in the background.

Art by @slayerofkillabee

Words by @magister-amoris and @i-am-medea (in spiritus)

5

Throwback Thursday: Wells College Library

When asked to name his best building, architect Walter Netsch of SOM cited the Louis Jefferson Long Library at Wells College in Aurora, New York, completed in 1968. Of the library, he said: “I wanted to work with the environment, so I made it fit the site. In fact, the first design fit the site so well that I had to do the roof over again. … It also fit the concept of what a library should be — a place where you study, put the book on the floor, and read on the floor or on pillows. It’s not regimented. It has volume, it has space and perception. It has small rooms that you can go to, especially on the bridge. And it has native materials. It has brick and wood. So I felt it did all those things, plus. It’s the first time we took three rotated squares and made them work together as a triad. The design of the library is different than any other field theory building because it’s based on that triad.”