the hundrends


“I believe everything happens for a reason. Whether it is decided by the Mother, or the Cauldron, or some sort of tapestry of Fate, I don’t know. I don’t really care. But I am grateful for it, whatever it is. Grateful that it brought you all into my life. 

‘’If I had not met an Illyrian warrior-in-training,“(…), "I would not have known the true depths of strength, of resilience, of honor and loyalty." 

"If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.”

“If I had not met my cousin, I would neer have learned that light can be found in even the darkest of hells. That kidness can thrive even amongst cruelty.”

“If I had not met a tiny monster who hoards jewels more fiercely than a firedrake …”(…) “My own power would have consumed me long ago.”

“And if I had not met my mate …” His words failed him as silver lined his eyes.
He said down the bond, I would have waited five hundrend more years for you. A thousand years. And if this was all the time we were allowed to have … The wait was worth it. 

“I believe that everything happened, exactly the way it had to … so I could find you." 


I believe everything happens for a reason. Whether it is decided by the Mother, or the Cauldron, or some sort of tapestry of Fate, I don’t know. I don’t really care. But I am grateful for it, whatever it is. Grateful that it brought you all into my life. If it hadn’t… I might have become as awful as that prick we’re going to face today. If I had not met an Illyrian warrior-in-training,“ he said to Cassian, "I would not have known the true depths of strength, of resilience, of honor and loyalty.” Cassian’s eyes gleamed bright. Rhys said to Azriel, “If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.” Azriel bowed his head in thanks.
Mor was already crying when Rhys spoke to her. “If I had not met my cousin, I would neer have learned that light can be found in even the darkest of hells. That kidness can thrive even amongst cruelty.” She wiped away her teas as she nodded.
I waited for Amren to offer a retort. But she was only waiting.
Rhys bowed his head to her. “If I had not met a tiny monster who hoards jewels more fiercely than a firedrake…” A quite laugh from all of us at that. Rhys smiled softly. “My own power would have consumed me long ago.”
Rhys squeezed my hand as he looked to me at last. “And if I had not met m mate…” His words failed him as silver lined his eyes.
He said down the bond, I would have waited five hundrend more years for you. A thousand years. And if this was all the time we were allowed to have… The wait was worth it.
He wiped away the tears sliding down my face. “I believe that everything happened, exactly the way it had to… so I could find you.” He kissed another tear away.”

anonymous asked:

"We pay fast-food workers less than a doctor bc a doctor's job is more important" okay, then why the hell do we pay famous chefs and soccer players better than most doctors, teachers and scientists? Do you need fine cuisine and football to live? I'm 1000% sure hundrends of ppl rely more on fast food to live than on high-end restaurants

janeykath318  asked:

Have you done a McKirk superhero AU yet? It's fun to imagine the powers they'd have:)

If you’re interested, I’ve done a “son of Tony Stark” Jim Kirk here -> click.

And a sort of Captain America McSpirk AU -> click.

  • So imagine Jim having taken part in some nasty experiments to get over his own terminal disease. That worked, but not without consequences. He’s regenerating his health constantly, but that does not mean he’s not still feeling it when he gets hurt. And even if he’s fatally shot and collapses, he always does wake up again.
  • Leonard’s not quite like that. Nor does he know about Jim’s powers the first time he finds Jim passed out in a dumpster. He carries him back to his apartment and stitches up those ugly looking stabbing wounds on Jim’s sides and his chest. This guy should be dead, but he’s not. He’s still breathing, though barely so. He’s just making a cup of coffee for himself when Jim wakes up; all loud groans and stirring even when his body is telling him not to. “Hey, hey. Calm down,” Leonard says, walking over to the couch, “you’ve had a rough night. Try not to move.” But of course this stranger isn’t exactly listening. His hands move down to the stitches, and to Leonard’s horror, he yanks them out. “What the hell are you doing?!” “I don’t need them,” the guy says, gritting his teeth through the pain. “I’m a nurse, I can tell you you need them.” Leonard says, sinking down to the ground next to him and pressing a cloth against the wound to stop the bleeding. “Give me ten more minutes, the wound will be gone.” And Leonard wants to argue that’s not possible, but he caught on. “Oh, you’re one of them.“ 
  • Leonard wasn’t to judge someone for being special, because Leonard’s different himself. He gets Jim a cup of coffee and sits down with him, watching his wounds fade with interest. “So, what, you can heal yourself?” he asks, and Jim nods. “More or less,” he says, sipping the coffee slowly. “How’d you get hurt?” Leonard asks, and Jim shrugs. “I stopped a kidnapping from happening. They weren’t happy about it.” “Clearly,” Leonard says, reaching out to trace the skin around the fading wound gently. Jim flinches, but lets him. “You met one of us before?” Jim asks, “y'know, ‘special’ ones?” “More or less,” Leonard replies. Jim looks at him for an answer, but Leonard’s not granting him one.
  • Not until the next time they cross paths. Leonard’s in a bank when it’s being robbed, and Jim happens to be there, too. He’s not even wearing a mask. He just full on jumps on one of the assailants, fighting him down on the ground despite being shot multiple times. “Stop it,” Leonard says, voice raised surprisingly loud, and Jim confuses himself when he pulls away. Leonard glances at the robber, nodding in his direction. “You’re gonna want to give me the gun and turn yourself in, alright?” And to Jim’s surprise, the criminal just agrees. He just accepts it when Leonard approaches him and takes the gun away from him. Leonard rests his hand on the man’s arm, and he guides him outside like it’s no big deal.
  • “How’d you do that?” Jim asks, finding Leonard in his apartment a day later. “Do what?” “Convince that guy to put down his gun and turn himself in.” “I’m persuasive.” “No one is that persuasive. He was willing to kill. He shot me, and a guard.” Jim says with a frown. He walks into Leonard’s apartment, and then Leonard notices the blood on Jim’s shirt. “Is that yours?” “Some of it is. You haven’t answered my question.” Jim sits down on Leonard’s couch, Leonard raises an eyebrow. “I told you, I’m persuasive.” “Bullshit.” Leonard sits down next to Jim, crossing his arms. “Take off your shirt.” “What? No.” Jim says, but he finds his hands already moving to the hem of his shirt automatically. Like his body wants to obey to Leonard’s words before his mind wants to, too. “No?” Leonard asks, “I think you should. Take it off.” And so Jim does. He takes off his shirt, even though he looks conflicted and uncomfortable about it. The fact that he can’t tell his own body to stop is a terrifying thing - but rather than take advantage of Jim’s inability to say no, Leonard simply reaches out to look at the bullet wound on his chest. “What did you do now?” “Someone’s gotta stop the gangs from terrorizing the streets - how do you do that?” Jim asks, and Leonard sighs. “You heal. I talk to people. We both have our gifts.” “You talk to people how?” “I tell them to do things, and then they do things.” Leonard explains. Jim huffs. “That’s the right ingredients for a supervillain, man.” Leonard pulls his hand back, to himself, resting on his lap. “I know.”
  • Leonard is actually terrifying. Jim teams up with him a couple of times, though Leonard seems reluctant to actually get out there. He’s more of a “I’ll heal the superheroes who need healing” type of guy. But when he does join Jim, he’s dangerous. They are just too late to save a little girl, and Leonard loses it completely. Like he’s not in control of himself anymore. “Put the gun in your mouth,” Leonard says, voice trembling with blind anger, and Jim frowns. “Leonard-” “Do it,” Leonard insists, watching the murderer do so with shivering fingers. “Leonard, stop.” “Shut up, Jim.” And Jim does, gritting his teeth as he tries to fight that controlling power Leonard has over him. And he’s just forced to watch the guy in front of them, on his knees, pistol pressed against the roof of his mouth. He’s a trembling, sobbing mess, and Leonard stares the guy down for what feels like forever. Jim is terrified he’s going to have to see the guy blow his own brains out, but Leonard eventually sighs and releases his grip on both of them. “You’re going to turn yourself in.”
  • But for all that his power is terrifying, Leonard does a lot of good. He tries to stay out of conflict, while Jim tackles it headfirst. And it’s not the first time Jim stumbles into Leonard’s apartment, finding him stitching up a vigilante, or even random strangers who can’t afford to go to the hospital. “You area not a bad person, Leonard.” Jim says one night. They’re sitting on the couch in Leonard’s apartment, and he’s just finished up checking out Jim’s wounds. They’re fine, of course. They always are, or they always will be, eventually. “I have been,” Leonard admits, and Jim looks up curiously. “Tell me.” “I don’t want to talk about it.” “You are so uptight,” Jim says, resting his hand on Leonard’s thigh. “You continually help people even though you have the power to convince hundrends of people to bend to your will. You could be a villain and instead you’re helping heroes.” “Are you calling yourself a hero?” Leonard huffs, and Jim smiles. “I think you’re amazing, and you shouldn’t be afraid to use those powers for good.” Leonard looks up, catching Jim’s gaze - and he very much wishes he hadn’t. Because Leonard has seen Jim flirt before. He has seen Jim hit on others before, draw them in with those alluring eyes and quirky smile, and he catches himself at the other end of it. Intentionally or not. And he can’t even stop himself from leaning in when Jim does, too. But when their lips touch, Leonard almost immediately pulls away. “No,” he says, and Jim raises an eyebrow. “Hey, relax,” Jim says, fingers touching Leonard’s cheek. “When’s the last time you relaxed and had some fun, huh?” Leonard doesn’t stop Jim when he straddles his lap, arms sliding around his shoulders. “Oh, I don’t-” Leonard mumbles as Jim’s lips brush against his own. “You don’t?” “I’ll never know if it’s consensual-” “It is,” Jim promises, before shutting Leonard up by kissing him.
  • And Leonard finds out Jim’s been practicing, too. They’re bickering pretty much the entire way into kicking a gang’s ass and Jim’s being more insufferable than usual. “Shut the hell up,” Leonard groans, after watching Jim knock out another bad guy. And usually that works, despite Jim not wanting to, but he suddenly turns his attention to Leonard and grins. “Make me.” It catches Leonard off guard, and he looks at Jim in surprise. “Shut up.” He says, and Jim smirks. He’s struggling a little, and he looks like he’s suffering a headache, but he shakes his head. “No.” he grits out, and Leonard looks surprised. “How-” “I got some tricks up my sleeve,” Jim replies. He approaches Leonard, grin on his lips. “Focus on these bad guys, Jim,” Leonard says, but Jim ignores him, with some struggle, and he reaches out for Leonard’s collar. “You’ve practiced,” Leonard says, both amused and shocked simultaneously. “I told you, with me, never worry about whether or not it’s consensual.” He says, leaning in to press a quick kiss on Jim’s lips. “How about we get out of here when the police arrive, and we grab a coffee?” “We have coffee in my apartment.” Leonard says, and Jim grins. “I know.”

holyroyalangelprincess-deactiva  asked:

*Sassy sax country music plays as she walks in the door she's also wearing a white peach hand and a fancy white jacket and she takes them off slowly before tossing them on the coat hanger perfectly then she flips off her wavy hair back before placing 1200 rubees on the bar table along with nine hundrend dollars* Cheastu Ranmoni please, the sweetest one you got. *She gives a small gentle smile showing her beautiful teeth that sparkle* Hope you didn't have any rough days here.

“Uh…rough…days??? Considering I’m about to fight some one, I’d say I have a few… as for your order, coming right up…”

anonymous asked:

Riarkle headcanon for wtf they were doing when they were supposed to be editing the yearbook?!

  • taking a million cute selfies of themselves rather than pictures to use in the actual yearbook
  • “Riley come on we have to get pictures of all the murals and a couple sports teams.”
  • Racing rolling chairs down empty hallways OBVIOUSLY
  • Like they’d just be rolling around the room to get shit but then Riley will really aggressively bump into his chair and roll herself out the door and he’s like ‘OKAY ITS FUCKING ON MATTHEWS’
  • They can waste like a solid hour on that
  • Riley blasts music on her phone the whole time too they’re such losers
  • They’re rolling and spinning around at the same time one of them always gets hurt
  • “What if we tried to accomplish everything we need to do today with our shoelaces tied together???”
  • “Riley no,”
  • And then he does absolutely nothing to stop her so they trip all over the place and keep accidentally breaking things
  • They’ll look forlornly at all the shit they need to do, make eye contact, and whip out their fucking games and are like ‘lessgo’
  • Annoying Cory
  • Who’s trying to grade papers/run a club depending on the day
  • And they’ll be bugging the life out of him with really stupid questions they know will annoy him or distracting his students for what they need to do or barging in demanding stories from his Golden Days just so they can make fun of him lmao
  • One time he was out of his classroom so Riley and Farkle moved everything in there a couple centimeters to the left and then watched him go crazy as he couldn’t figure out what was wrong
  • Farkle ALWAYS falls asleep while they’re supposed to be working
  • Usually Riley will just leave him be and finish by herself
  • But one time he woke up and she’s giving him a funny look but insists it’s nothing right, she’s just like ‘lol you were snoring it was cute’
  • So they finish up and Cory comes to walk them home and he smiles but says nothing
  • And they walk like the five fucking blocks to his house
  • Pass hundreds of people. Stopped in a Starbucks and got drinks
  • All of the security staff around his house
  • Says bye to the Matthews
  • Passes his parents
  • Gets up to his bedroom
  • Heads into the bathroom
  • Catches his reflection in the mirror
  • He screams for like an hour and it takes him two and a half days to get the paint completely off his face omfg
  • No one will ever let him live it down lmao
  • They argue so much over how the pictures should be displayed/what the page spreads should look like
  • They can never agree
  • They always call Cory for tie-breaker
  • He almost always sides with Riley
  • Farkle is outraged at the blatant nepotism and Cory’s like ‘ask for a different teachers opinion then???” and Farkle’s like ‘they literally all tell us to fuck off you’re the only one omfg”
  • Farkle always starts singing Seasons of Love from rent to piss Riley off
  • Bc she’s always going off on tangents like ‘oh wow look how much we’ve grown in the past year’
  • And she’ll be hyper focused on doing something and he’ll creep up behind her and scream/sing in her ear “FIVE HUNDREND TWENTY FIVE THOUSAND SIX HUNDRED MINNNNNUTES” and she’s screaming and trying to punch him bc dammit Farkle this is NOT THE TIME for emotions!!!
  • This is before Donnie Barnes clothing obviously so I don’t know if anyone noticed but in early season 2 Farkle was always wearing like fucking 3 or 4 shirts at once????
  • Like in season 1 it was only usually a turtleneck and something over that but in season 2 it’s usually turtleneck/sweater/button up or something else
  • And Riley’s fucking horrified bc this boy will give himself a heatstroke she’s sure of it she can SEE him sweating why is he doing this to himself
  • So she’s always trying to steal his shirts omfg
  • Like he’ll be sitting there writing something and suddenly she’s trying to rip his sweater off his body and he’s like “RILEY” and she’s like “I WONT LET YOU DIE” omfg
  • Cory and the Vice Principal walked in on that one time that was quite a scene they had to explain
  • A few times she manages to steal his weirdly-patterned button ups and he’ll be like ‘GIVE IT BACK’ but she’s already slipping it on over her clothes going ‘sorry the results are in I’m cuter than you’
  • And no matter how much she doesn’t want to wear his sweaty shirt that has sharks and pandas on it, she knows that’s the only way he’ll stop trying to steal it back. Bc while she has no qualms about attacking him and ripping a shirt off his body, he wouldn’t DARE do the same to her lmao
  • They’ll be working silently than all the sudden one of them will ask a really fucking random question like “what if WE’RE the aliens!” and then they’ll waste the rest of the time in a heated debate about it
  • One time Farkle was carrying a huge pile of pictures, spreads, cameras, forms, basically literally everything they needed
  • Everything is all over the floor
  • And Riley and Farkle are staring at this huge mess in silence for a few moments
  • And then Riley’s like “What if we…just go and get some ice cream.”
  • And he nods and they just peace the fuck out so they can blame the mess on someone else later lmao
  • “Farkle no we cannot sneak Percy Jackson puns into the yearbook.”
  • One time Farkle lost a contact like at the end of the school day so he had to put his glasses on and Riley chased him around with a red sharpie trying to draw a lightning bolt on his forehead
  • “What if I just made a page declaring I have more A’s than you??? Nothing would be able to stop me.”
  • “My foot between your legs would probably stop you.”
  • “…Noted.”
  • Riley constantly screaming about Farkle’s growth spurt
  • Every time she notices a new centimeter she starts trying to fight him
  • One time they literally just walked into the room and immediately decided to just watch the Lion King instead of getting any work done
  • Cory accidentally let slip that there’s an xbox in the teacher’s lounge so they’re always trying to sneak in there to play Mario Kart
  • Every time they have to take pictures of clubs they’ll waste so much time with the Art Club just to mess with Maya
  • Like they’ll make them redo the picture a million times, ‘no guys put the STAR in the middle please she’s tiny we need to see her!”,  constantly taking pictures of Maya and then going ‘whoops my finger slipped!!!’ lol
  • Maya acts annoyed but she laughs and blushes the whole time lmao
  • Alternatively, when taking pictures of the softball team, Farkle’s like ‘Lucas you’re too tall you need to back up…no further! FURTHER LUCAS”
  • Lucas will be an entire field away from the team before Farkle is like “PERFECT” and starts snapping pictures and Riley and all the players are cracking up
  • They were working on one spread and Farkle was like “Is it possible to add glitter to these? I feel like we need glitter.” and Riley just pulls a huge fucking jar of glitter out of her backpack and whispers “I thought you’d never ask” and Farkle groans bc he probably shouldn’t have said anything
  • Impromptu dance parties
  • Basically Riley and Farkle are fucking dorks who have a very hard time actually focusing on the yearbook that LITERALLY THEY WERE THE ONLY TWO WHO SIGNED UP TO WORK ON IT YOU’ D THINK THEY’D BE MORE DEDICATED
  • but no they get distracted quite a lot and that leaves a lot of time for people to sneak in and mess with categories lmao
  • riarkle <3

anonymous asked:

Hey there, senpai..! Some of my friends who also love your art reprimand me for 'copying' your art style, but I think our styles just bear a resemblance... If, say, someone did have art that looks a lot like yours, but the artist didn't really mean for it to look alike, what would your comment be on that?

i don’t rlly care if our art styles are similar?? literally hundrends of artists have similar art styles and most of them don’t even know each other

just keep drawing and don’t let anyone stop you

Just For Kids...

So in RTTE, we can easily have:

-Dagur killing prison guards-

-Gothi’s teenage crew being eaten by the Snow Wraith-

-a romantic relationship between a man and a chicken-

-Snotlout kissing Fishlegs-

-Heather tying up and nearly killing her brother-

Plus hundrends of other questionable senarios…

But we can’t have Hiccstrid innocently flirting because the show is STRICTLY FOR KIDS!!!!!!!!!!!

Everytime i pull my sidestick and rise the nose into the air i smile and remember how fortunate i am.

So i say to myself “nothing will ever compare to what you do as a pilot”.

Everytime my wheels touch the runway i remind myself that “i do the best job in the world. Hundrends of passengers trust me and fly with me all over the world”.

So my one and only advice to you is what my father told me "Follow your Dreams.

Nothing will ever make you Happier.“

The Gold-shackled singer (The Story of Erasmus and Kallias)

When slavery is abolished in Patras, Erasmus doesn’t think it is real. He has been raised to serve: it’s what he IS, and he doesn’t know how to exist outside of the walls of a palace, the banquet halls of a lord, the bed of a prince.

His master- the man who was his master, he mentally corrects himself- receives him in his private chambers.

He tells him that nothing has to change, if he doesn’t want it to; that Erasmus has served him well, and he’d be glad to keep him at his side, unshackled and handsomely rewarded, as a lover and a personal attendant; that he’s ready to offer him protection against a world he doesn’t know.

There’s kindness in his master’s eyes as he speaks; kindness and concern and a soft fondness that makes his words feel genuine. Erasmus wants so badly too accept. The world is a cruel place, he knows; he knows he is naive and defenseless, that he could starve or be tortured or killed. He knows that his master is a good man: he has never hurt him, and he cares for his pleasure in a way no one else in his life ever has. He has saved him from his torturers in Arles, and now he is offering to help him again- to help HIM, a slave, someone who is worth less than the dirth beneath his feet. He’d be a fool to refuse, and yet…

And yet, while he kneels at the feet of the man he calls master, he hears the echo of his own voice, thick with the thrill of impossible dreams, as if carried by the winds of memory from a long ago night in the gardens of Ios : “I want to be taken across the ocean. I want to see other lands. I want to see Isthima, and Cortoza, I want to see the place where Iphegenia waited, the great palace where Arsaces gave himself to a lover. I want – to feel what it is too-” and Kallias’s voice, woven in moonlight and shadows. “Live in the world”.

A forgotten yearning is rekindled in his chest.

He knows what he should do, but, perhaps for the first time in his life, he is reckless.

The scars on his thighs throb in warning, a reminder of all that could go wrong. He ignores them.

“This slave is grateful for your generous offer, master,” he murmurs, lifting his head “but with your permission he chooses to leave.”

A shadow passes over Torveld’s face, but then, reluctanctly, he nods his assent.

Erasmus looks at the pieces of his golden collar, discarded on the floor, and feels strangely empty. That collar reminds him of pain and hopelessness, yes, but it also represents everything he has ever strived to achieve. Suddenly, he remembers hundrends of nights spent wishing desperatly for his body to mature; he remembers a litter, and the clang of a bell in the gardens of Nereus; he remembers Kallias’s smile, and prince Damianos, collared, looking at him with indomitable fire in his eyes.

“Leave them.” he tells the blacksmith as the man moves to remove his shackles. After all, he thinks, if the monarchs of two kingdoms wear those same manacles with pride, who is he to be ashamed of what they represent?

He leaves the palace with nothing but his golden collar in a shoulder bag. He has refused the prince’s far too generous offers of a horse, food, even coins: he is nothing but a slave, after all (or at least he still thinks of himself as one). He doesn’t want anything that doesn’t belong to him by right. Truthfully, even the concept of owning something – he, that is used to being own- scares him, as does the knowledge of having choices. Erasmus has freedom, now, but he has no idea what to do with it.

He will have to find a way to earn his living, eventually, but the gold in his bag is enough to sustain him for a while.

After he sells the collar, the first thing he does is buying a kithara. The instrument is a familiar weight in his hand, like a small piece of home in this place of exile.

Read the rest on ao3

"EXO when they miss you."


He is so low, that even saying “kkaeb song” hundrend times won’t make him feel better.


He starts to bite everyone out of anger.


Looks at the picture of you like you are a miracle in december…


Don’t even wants to talk to anybody, but you.


Wants to wreck everything around him.


Tries to act all cool, but about to cry everytime he thinks of you.


Punches everyone who tries to tease him about the fact, that he REALLY misses you.


Walks around with an expression of a lost puppy.


Talks about you to everyone all the time.


Tries not to show his emotions, but really he is..


Watches sad movies and cries.


Tries to find comfort in food.

Whites be swearing we be having ugly dark skin
Yet they’re the ones who feel so insecure with their pale ass skin
That they spend hundrends trying to tan
And they end up looking like they rolled in cheeto dust