the real question: who did i draw with my other hand

Yuri on Ice interview translation - CREA 2017/03 (p32-33)

This is the full interview with Mitsurou Kubo published on CREA. I actually wanted to translate all the YOI interviews together but some translations going around urged me to post this one before the others, as I wouldn’t be able to finish everything tonight.

It’s not really an interview, it’s more like a partial interview and a short commentary of each episode.

The other 4 short interviews are with Kenji Miyamoto (choreographer), Eiji Abiko & Junpei Tatenaka (figure skating animators), Yuuko Sagiri (original costume designer), Keisuke Tominaga (music producer). I will try to post them tomorrow night if I can finish them.

***If you wish to share this translation please do it by reblogging or posting a link to it***

***Re-translating into other languages is ok but please mention that this post is the source***


The reality as expressed by 5 people who created “Yuri on Ice”

Reality #1: Story x Mitsurou Kubo

“The reality of emotions” is what Kubo-san gave most importance to when she created the manga storyboard for this series. “Simply listing up the contents of the skaters’ programs and their score and connecting them together is not going to create something emotional. In my storyboard I tried to convey the feelings of all athletes, not just Yuuri, with their performances, to express them carefully, so that other skaters who watch them will in turn be influenced by them like in a chain reaction.”
An important tool to express those feelings are the monologues that can be heard during the programs, blended in harmony with the performance.
“Watching the footage of the choreographies by Kenji Miyamoto-sensei I realized that, even though he simply created them based on the songs, in many cases they perfectly match the athlete’s feelings too. I was so moved and thought that Kenji-sensei is an amazing person.”
As the series is pursuing reality, it does not contain any unrealistic techniques.
“If we had included something over-the-top people would have just said ‘that’s unreal’, so I thought that it was better to just go a little ahead of reality, and consulted with many people to decide the difficulty of the techniques to use. However, shortly thereafter real life skaters actually surpassed that level, which really surprised me. We did decide the level knowing that it would be surpassed one day, but we didn’t think it would happen so soon!”
The writer Mitsurou Kubo also needed a lot of courage to portray Yuuri determined to win for love.
“On the ice rink you can express anything, and that’s why, even if I had never thought about what true love is or represented it before, I decided to try my hand at openly depicting love as fiction. As a result, I myself was encouraged by the story I wrote and felt that I could make a fresh start after that.”

“I ended up being encouraged by the story about love that I openly portrayed as fiction.”

Highlights of every episode by Mitsurou Kubo

#1 Nan no Piroshiki!! Namida no Grand Prix Final
“I want you to watch the best figure skating animation”
Before the series was broadcasted I was worried, because normally original anime not based on a previous work and airing late at night take a long time to catch the viewers’ attention. However, my fear was swept away by the extraordinary skating scenes of the first episode, and the show gained a good reputation right away. Stunning images can provide the best promotion.

#2 Futari no Yuri!? Yutopia no Ran
“Figure skaters feeling more familiar”
This part is set during the off-season in Yuuri’s hometown. If we had showed special people battling each other in a faraway place from the very start the viewers would never have felt close to them, therefore I decided to start the story with the Russians, Victor and Yurio, spending time in the onsen of the castle town Hasetsu, eating katsudon and spreading news via the SNS, so that they would feel more familiar to the audience.

#3 Boku ga Eros de Eros ga Boku de!? Taiketsu! Onsen on ICE
“You can feel the growth of Yuuri and Yurio”
Once the Grand Prix series starts no one can afford to lose anymore, so I created this provisional match between Yuuri and Yurio to emphasize their relationship as rivals but also as comrades. I also wanted to show that a competitive program is progressively brushed up during the season based on each athlete’s pace. Originally I also thought of showing Yurio’s mother rushing to the scene.

#4 Jibun wo Suki ni Natte… Kansei!! Free Program
“Yuuri and Victor gradually become closer”
In the process of completing the free skating program Yuuri and Victor become closer to each other, both as coach and student and as equals. Yuuri’s gesture of poking the top of Victor’s head has no logical meaning. I think it symbolizes how Yuuri, acting on an impulse, breaks his own shell and steps into the territory of the person that previously was only considered a living legend.

#5 Kao Makka!! Shosen Da yo! Chuu-shikoku-kyuushuu Senshuken Taikai
“Check out the relationship between seniors and juniors”
Minami-kun, a skater that looks up to Yuuri, appears in this episode. I really like the scene where Yuuri, finally becoming aware that he is going to lead the current generation of Japanese skaters, silently hits Minami-kun’s back. As in the scene where he pokes Victor’s head, once again Yuuri uses a physical action, instead of logic or words, to try to communicate something. When it’s animated it looks really awesome.

#6 Kaimaku Grand Prix Series Yacchaina!! Chuugoku Taikai SP
“Check out Chris’ sexiness”
The tournament starts and many fascinating athletes make their appearances, but this episode is also an occasion to fully enjoy the charm of Chris’ ass. After watching Kenji-sensei’s choreography I decided to draw a beautiful ass in my storyboard, then its charm was further emphasized in the animation, and finally thanks to the voice actor’s absolutely sexy voice we could obtain the best ass animation ever.

#7 Kaimaku Grand Prix Series Yacchaina!! Chuugoku Taikai FS
“An FSP where Yuuri and Victor overcome their fears”
Yuuri and Victor were both anxious before the FS, and I feel that the strongly emotional scenes following that were represented in a very effective way. Regarding the last scene, I started receiving lots of questions from overseas, asking “Did Yuuri and Victor hug? Or was it a kiss?” and that’s when I realized how much the anime’s popularity had spread worldwide.

#8 Yuuri VS Yuri Osoroshia!! Russia Taikai SP
“JJ’s striking appearance is a must see”
This episode is where Jean-Jacques Leroy, aka JJ, one of the most likely candidates to win the gold medal, appears. What is scary about JJ is that he has the ability to paint any story in JJ color, overshadowing even the protagonist. Mamoru Miyano-san, the one who played his role, managed to take JJ to the next level with his natural personality and made him all the more convincing.

#9 Yuuri VS Yuri Osoroshia!! Russia Taikai FS
“When the absence of an important person makes you grow”
This episode is where Yuuri grows after fighting without Victor next to him. When we went location hunting at the Fukuoka airport there was a glassed-in corridor close to the arrival lobby, and as the director saw it she excitedly said “Yuuri and Victor are going to run side by side separated by the glass!”. I was like “they definitely are!”, and we started taking heaps of pictures. The airport is currently being remodeled and it’s not possible to recreate the scene.

#10 Chou Ganbaranba! Grand Prix Final Chokuzen Special
“Ordinary life episode the night before the last fight”
As the last part depicting ordinary life before the Grand Prix Final, I wanted to create a relaxing episode without skating scenes while at the same time introducing the athletes, but in the end so many things happened in it that no one could relax and I was told that even animating it was a pain. The ring Yuuri gave Victor also carries the meaning of a symbol that the two of them are like soul mates.

#11 Chou Chou Ganbaranba!! Grand Prix Final SP
“The speed leading to the last episode is impressive to watch”
The OP footage, that was gradually changed from episode 1 by adding colors, is finally complete. I was happy that we could welcome as voice actors Ken Gamada-san, who actually works as an MC in tournaments and ice shows, and Nobunari Oda-san as himself doing the commentary. With the pace of the story speeding up toward the finale, this episode was just chaos.

#12 Chou Chou Chou Ganbaranba!!! Grand Prix Final FS
“A final episode where you can catch a glimpse of everyone’s future”
Including Stéphane Lambiel-san’s debut as an anime seiyuu, which is something no one could have expected, the chaotic mixup of anime and reality reaches a climax in this episode. Beside the sense of fulfillment for the victory, I think that the contents also let you catch a glimpse of each character’s future. I was about to faint looking at the beauty of Victor’s tears.


Final note (this is just my opinion, it’s not part of the translation): There is a translation going around where the line about soul mates is translated as “proof”, but actually the word 証 (akashi) can have many different meanings, among which symbol/mark/token/proof/sign etc. In this case, I personally do not think it means “proof” (also to be honest when it’s “proof” usually they write it as 証拠 shouko). It’s more like symbol/token, as in “it’s meant to symbolize Yuuri and Victor’s deep bond that goes beyond a normal relationship”. Although the difference is only subtle, I still think it’s not the same. Also please understand that the Japanese word “soul mate” does not have the meaning that is used in fanfiction… I believe it’s actually the same in English too, but in normal conversation it means “two people that have a strong spiritual/emotional bond (that makes them suited for each other, be it either as friends or lovers)”, not “two people who were destined to be together from their previous life”. That is something you are free to imagine or fantasize about, however please do not twist the creators’ words just to fit people’s headcanons…

P.S.: And please do not misunderstand me. I love Victuuri, but I prefer to draw a line between canon and fanon, and I don’t really like it when words by the creators are “adapted” to accomodate people’s shipping ideas. I think what she says is deep enough even without mistranslating it anyway…

for @portentous-offerings who is my sick buddy today. Feel better my friend ^_^ 

“She’s never going to love me.”

It was so quiet she almost missed it.

“What did you say Kitty?” she asked, her face still pressed into his back from where they were cuddling in her bed.

“Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything,” he said, rolling over and giving her a cheeky smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Are… are you talking about Ladybug?” she asked softly, feeling the knot of guilt that had steadily been building over the last few months of this strange friendship they had fallen into.

He didn’t bring up her alter ego very often. The subject of romance in general always seeming to carry some sort of bizarre taboo whenever he stopped by for his increasingly frequent visits. Not that Marinette had minded. She had Alya to cry to about her lack-luster love life after all, and given how unwaveringly supportive he was about all of her other problems, it seemed silly to hold it against him that he was uncomfortable talking to a girl about crushes and the like.

His eyes flashed guiltily and he rolled back over, staring out into the darkness of the room.

“Really it’s nothing,” he said again, but he couldn’t quite mask the defeated tone that colored his words.

It was a sound she was all too used to. The same defeated cadence that had echoed from her own lips after her disastrous attempt at confessing to Adrien 5 months and 27 days earlier that no amount of Rom-coms or Alya suggested poster-burning had been able to cure.

“Chat, it isn’t nothing,” she said, sitting up and gently trying to pull him back around. He didn’t budge, still keeping his gaze obstinately fixed at something that she couldn’t see. “If it matters to you… it isn’t nothing. Not to me.”

“It’s not appropriate,” he said softly, “and it’s not fair to you.”

“Shouldn’t I get to be the judge of that?”

“It would be selfish-“

“So be selfish!” she said with a slightly forced laugh. “Trust me, you have a long way to go before you catch up to my level of selfish so I am hardly one to judge.” She teased her fingers through his hair, letting her nails scratch delicately against his scalp and felt him relax in spite of himself.

“Yeah right,” he scoffed lightly, “your strange phone kleptomania aside, you’re a pretty stand-up person.”

“Hey, I will have you know I have been working very hard to reform my phone-napping ways,” she teased, hoping to draw out a real smile from him.

“You stole Alya’s phone just last week!”

“That was a special circumstance. I told you so,” she pouted. “Besides, Adrien doesn’t deserve to be taunted like that no matter what Alya might say about it,” she added softly.  

She felt Chat stiffen slightly, his cat ear twitching at her words, and she was once again suspicious that he knew all about her romantic trouble regardless of their lack of conversation on the subject. She flushed at the thought.

“You are one of the most selfless people I know,” he said, reaching up to grasp her hand in his own and give it a brief reassuring squeeze.

The guilt Marinette was feeling was almost overpowering as the thought of the secrets she was keeping from him weighed on her like a stone. He had never questioned how they had fallen into such an easy friendship, and she had become too attached to having him as a part of her life- her normal everyday life- to be willing to admit the one-sidedness of it all. Here she was getting mopey over someone she had sworn she was done chasing after in front of a guy whose heart she routinely seemed to trample into the dust. Talk about selfish.  

“Please just tell me,” she whispered, her fingers resuming their seductive strokes that she knew full well would reduce him to a compliant puddle in her lap.

He was silent for a few more moments before finally letting out a small defeated sigh.

“I was just thinking about everything and I guess I just…” he hesitated. “She’ll never love me. I know that. I think on some level I always suspected as much.”

His voice wasn’t bitter or angry, and that calm resignation shattered her own heart into a million pieces more than the actual words he was saying.

“I think,” he continued, “I think I will be ok with it. She loves someone else. She doesn’t really say much about it, maybe to preserve our identities or maybe because she doesn’t want to hurt my feelings, but every once in a while she lets something slip and it’s not that hard to put the pieces together. I always thought it was so cheesy in the movies when people would say things like I just want her to be happy, but I think I get it now. She’s incredible and I am always going to love her, but she doesn’t need me to make her happy.”

Marinette could feel the tears pooling behind her eyes as the words poured out of him in his soft, even tone. Her fingers were frozen, buried in his lush golden hair, her breaths turning shallow and frantic as the words reverberated through her like an electric current.

She stared down at the boy beside her. Her precious, irreplaceable kitten, who loved her so fiercely and believed in her so much. Who was willing to call her out for her faults and yet somehow still believed her capable of rising above them.

“She’s smart,” Chat continued, his voice seeming to echo in the near silence of the night, “and I know that whoever she does choose is going to be someone who can make her happy. Somebody good and funny and able to keep up with her when she is at her best and keep her grounded when she’s at her worst. So I think I can be ok with that.”

She tried to imagine what her future would be with some potential lover. Her heart lurched slightly at the thought of Adrien, her own love that was apparently not to be. She brushed that thought aside and instead tried to picture a world where she was curled up beside some new face, running her fingers through hair that wasn’t blonde.

She had to choke back a sob.

The slight twinge of pain she had felt at the momentary reminder that she and Adrien would never be more than friends was nothing to the soul rendering terror she felt at the sudden realization that finding a new love would inevitably mean losing Chat.

They would still be friends. Of course, it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be like this. He would never impose like that. Not her Chat. Her partner who was good, and funny, and who had seen her at her best and her worst, who knew her better than anyone, and who still had never made her feel anything less than precious. Her dearest friend who just the momentary thought of a life without him made her feel like she was dying.

Chat let out a small self-deprecating laugh and Marinette wondered how she had ever been so blind.

“So yeah,” he said finally twisting back around to look up at her, “I think I’ll be ok. Even if she doesn’t love me.”

She gazed down at him, his brilliant green eyes glowing in the near darkness of the night, a tired smile on his face that she longed to see transformed into his usual infectious grin, as the truth hit her like a bolt of lightning.

“I do,” she said breathlessly, before leaning down to capture his lips in a long overdue kiss.

                                                  How to Open the Veil


The Veil is what separates our physical realm from the spirit world. By opening it, we’re able to communicate more freely with spirits. Essentially, you’ll be making a door and opening it in order to reach the spirit realm. 

Disclaimer: I’m not an expert at this, please don’t take my word as the final say. I just started practicing this technique and was taught by a close friend. Always be safe when you practice because if you’re not careful, you can get into some shit. I’m writing this post by popular demand. 


STEP 1: BE SAFE. The picture above is a little preview of the layout I used in my own dorm room. It’s hard to see, but I first drew a chalk circle and sprinkled black salt all along the edges of said circle. I also put four crystals at each end to mark it. Why do I have so much shit everywhere?? Because I don’t want anything to come through the door I created and cause problems. This circle keeps unwanted spirits out. (Granted, you don’t have to use as many things as I did. I find that a physical circle is just easier to visualize.) You can also use candles or anything else that works for you!

STEP 2: MARK THE DOOR. I used sun and moon candle holders with electric candles in them (since I live in a dorm and can’t use real candles). I set them apart from each other, like I was making, well, a door. Then I used some Super-Moon water to draw a line between the two candle holders to amplify my energy. Finally, I also sprinkled a line of black salt to stop unwanted and harmful spirits from coming through the door. 

STEP 3: RELAX. Get into the state of mind you need to be in to do witchy stuff. Meditation, grounding, singing–whatever you need to do to access your energy. 

STEP 4: STRETCH YOUR ENERGY. Whenever you feel ready, slowly pool energy into you palms. Then push it through the marked entrance where your door is going to be, imagining it as a thread, string, or cord connecting to the spirit realm. This might be difficult, especially if the veil isn’t exactly thin where you’re at. You may feel your energy bounce back, or that you’re hitting a wall. If you do, don’t worry! You can always pull back, gather your energy, and try again. 

STEP 5: CREATE A BRIDGE. You’ll know the moment when your energy connects to the spirit realm. It feels different for every person–for me, it’s almost like this tug in my gut and the feeling of a thread connecting my hands and body to something else. Once you feel that, it’s really up to you on how you want to create the bridge! For me, what works best is when I imagine myself walking across the thread of my energy towards the spirit realm. As I walk, my energy begins to create the bridge. There might be another door on the other side once you cross the bridge (it’s really up to how you visualize). If there is, open it. 

STEP 6: OPEN THE DOOR. Once you’ve made the bridge, feel and hold on to that connection. Then, imagine a door leading to the bridge through the physical boundaries you created earlier. This door can look however you like–whatever’s easiest for you to imagine! Then, use your energy to pry open the door. After that…

Congrats! You’ve successfully opened a door to the spirit realm! You should be able to feel the difference in energies. It’s kind of hard to explain how it feels–almost like this vast, empty expanse and the chattering of lots of different spirits floating around. 

When you’re done…

CLOSE THE DOOR. If you invited any spirits in to chat, say goodbye to the spirit(s) that you communicated with and ask them to leave. Make sure they leave before you close the door. If they refuse to, you might have to force them via your own energy (obviously, this is in the worst of situations. Try not to be rude if possible!). We’ve had to do this before and it’s not the most pleasant thing (haha). 

To close the door, pull your energy out from the spirit realm. Imagine that bridge you created crumbling, until you can no longer feel that connection. Once you’re out, close the door, seal it up, and do anything else that feels necessary in order to break the opening. For me, I usually make a breaking motion with my hands to signify the cut-off connection. You can chant or say an incantation if you like as well. This is important, because you definitely don’t want to leave a door open for spirit to come through willy nilly!  


                                                          Other Info

  • PLEASE BE CAREFUL!! If you’re not cautious, some bad spirits might be able to get through and that’s never fun. If possible, try this first with someone else (preferably someone who knows more of what they’re doing). If you can’t, make sure you have multiple backups, wards, and other witchy things to keep bad spirits at bay. 
  • If you want to invite a spirit to chat, it’s probably a good idea to have an offering around, just to be polite. Tarot cards, pendulums, etc. are pretty awesome tools to use if you’re not great at telepathic communication!
  • Take everything spirits say with a grain of salt. They can lie just like people. 

I hope this was helpful to those that asked! If anyone wants to add anything, feel free to. I’m by no means an expert, so if someone wants to add their expertise advise please do! If something doesn’t feel right, go with your gut–never do something you’re not comfortable with. 

Be safe, fellow spirit workers and witches!

-Llama

His || Jungkook || 0.12

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12

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The Unspoken Game

A/N: So like said before I wasn’t ever going to post this because this was orginally for Chloe who’s been a little ran down lately. So no judgements ! This is a Thomas fic WHO I’VE NEVER WRITTEN ABOUT EVER ! BE PROUD OF ME LOL ! I hope you all enjoy this as much as I know that Chloe did !

Dedicated to: @writing-obrien

Warning: God, the smut tho. I’m just be warned.

Word count: 2714

Originally posted by space-ing-out

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Guest: Part 1

You ask Harry to be your date to a wedding. But just as friends, of course…

————————————————————————————————-

Originally posted by intoyouharryarchive

You had never been more perplexed over the word, “Guest”.

The wedding invite in your hand had arrived at your door a few hours prior and, while the upcoming wedding itself wasn’t news (you had known that your two friends would end up getting married arguably before they did), the little “(Y/N) + Guest” notation at the bottom was unexpected. You currently weren’t dating anyone and hadn’t been for quite a while; at least long enough for your friends not to assume that you would be bringing someone.

But, there it was, in plain, black ink: (Y/N) + Guest.

You bit your lip and read the invite again, wondering if maybe they had just allotted one guest for everyone because they had a huge budget. All of your other close friends were already invited to the wedding in the first place; who on earth were you expected to bring?

It was one friend’s suggestion of, “What about Harry?” that currently had you in fits of nerves and bouts of overthinking. Harry was a pal, sure, but you certainly weren’t close enough to him that you could just waltz right up and ask him to be your date to a wedding. He didn’t even know the bride and groom, but he did know many of your other friends that would be in attendance.

It wasn’t that you weren’t friendly with Harry. You had known each other probably about five years now and always ended up hanging out whenever he was around, though it was typically in a group. You got along well, laughed a lot, enjoyed the same things and had a lot in common. But you weren’t close. He wasn’t the type that you would just call up on a Friday night if you were bored; you were way too self conscious to do that, even though he didn’t act like Harry Styles when he was around you.

He was also incredibly good looking and charming, and that scared you. The idea of being seen at a wedding with Harry Styles just felt like you were opening yourself up for ridicule. You were generally okay with how you looked, but Harry was like a Greek god compared to pretty much everywhere else.

Truth be told, you had a bit of a crush on him. It was a harmless crush, because when he was away you didn’t really think about him at all, but he did manage to make you nervous and give you butterflies every time you saw him.

The idea of asking Harry to be your wedding date had been pinching at the back of your mind for weeks now. The wedding was still a few months away, but you still hadn’t sent in an RSVP to confirm whether you were coming alone or with someone else.

“Have you asked him yet?”

That was the first question your friend consistently asked you ever since she had suggested it. Your response was always the same and becoming a bit exasperating, if you were being honest.

“How am I supposed to ask him?”

Your friend crossed her arms and gave you a smirk.

“Well…how about, ‘Hey Harry, would you like to come to this wedding with me?’”

You sighed, throwing yourself back on your bed and bringing your arms up to cover your face.

“I can’t just ask him like that! It would be weird.”

“I feel like it wouldn’t be…”

“I don’t know him that well.”

“You’ve known him for four years!”

“Yeah, but we never hang out alone!”

“He’d say yes.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No, but I have a pretty good idea.”

Your conversations went on like this until your friend finally got tired of arguing with you. The rational part of your mind knew that, in all likelihood, Harry would say yes if you asked him. As long as he was around and didn’t have any other plans, he had no real reason to turn you down. But the part of your brain that kept overthinking things – the one that was usually in the forefront – had run through 50 different scenarios in which you asked him and he said no, or you just ended up making a complete fool of yourself.

Finally, you couldn’t put off your RSVP any longer; the wedding was drawing near and your friends needed numbers. Harry had been in London for quite a while now, with a few quick trips to the US scattered here and there, but you had seen him more in the last six months than you had in the past few years.

“Ask him!” your friend hissed, almost shoving you in Harry’s direction as you and a large group of your friends were just about to leave a restaurant.

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anonymous asked:

is having a ginormous fat peen a deal breaker for you? yano cuz u short

Anonymous looked up at the sky, not trusting the colour smeared upon the horizon. Horizons could be misleading, they knew. Horizons could convince you it was still daylight, even when the whole of the sky arced above you in a sprawl of midnight. Looking forward was not always enough. Sometimes, you had to look up. 

Directly above Anonymous, the moon cut its teeth into the clouds, drawing blood and bruising the darkness with its waxen light, waning at the edges. It was time. 

They did not have long. The witch had told them, as she reluctantly handed them the bag of herbs, that the spell would only be useful for the minute or so that the moon was at its highest. The minute was upon them. 

Fifty five seconds left. 

Cursing themself for having lost track of time, Anonymous reached into their trouser pocket and pulled out the little drawstring bag. With hands shaking in anticipation, they emptied the contents into the small well they’d dug into the earth all those hours ago, and covered it back over with dirt. Fingers crossed behind their back, they stepped away and waited.

It did not happen immediately. Magic takes time, the witch had said. Magic does not come to you when you ask for it; it comes to you when it’s good and ready. You can cast all the spells you like, scatter all the herbs and make all the offerings, but magic cannot be summoned - only tempted. 

The seconds ticked by, and Anonymous waited.

This had been a long time coming, they reflected. They had waited too long for the taste of power on their lips. They had been too long distant from how it felt to be in control. They had learnt too early their place in the world, and they had too soon come to rue it. The chasm between want and have had grown inexorably bigger since the day they were born, and now they were here. 

The mound of earth did not move. Anonymous thought about the time they had first felt insignificant - the first time they had realised that they stood small in the face of all things - and counted the seconds. 

With ten seconds left before the spell died, the magic came. 

Magic has no face, has no body. It takes no form and it holds no weight. The witch had told Anonymous this herself. Magic simply is; it is because no other word will do, but it is not. It cannot be, and has never been, and yet it is. 

When Anonymous thought about it, it was all rather complicated.

Best, then, not to think at all. Best to give voice to thought and make it speech. 

Anonymous cleared their throat and began. 

“I suppose you’re wondering why I summoned you here - ” 

I was not summoned. 

They flushed, the soundless sound surprising them even though they had been expecting it. Do not fear the voiceless voice, the witch had warned. It speaks, and is silent. The words are only half your own. 

Breathing slowly, they tried again. 

“No, of course not. Sorry. I’m not - I haven’t used magic before.” 

And you still have not. I am not here to be used. Say what you would have, and I will do the same. This is not a service. This is a trade.

“Right. Yes. Sorry.” They inhaled, exhaled. This was the only chance they would have to resolve the conflict that had been the shape of all their life. This was the resolution of aporia; of feeling as though they deserved everything, yet having nothing. Of knowing that they should be free, but being everywhere in chains. Of wanting, and of not having. “I want to feel powerful.” 

In what sense? Power is not all-encompassing. The queen ant is powerful to the workers, but weak to the heel of the boot. What power would you hold? Do you seek to command nations, or to master the arts, or to take another as your own? 

Anonymous considered how best to formulate their response before replying. Precision was key here. The witch had made it clear that magic would grant you what you asked, whether or not it was exactly what you wanted. 

“I’m tired of being silent,” they said eventually. “I’m tired of being unable to say whatever I want. I’m sick to the teeth of thinking all these thoughts - great thoughts, too; thoughts that could topple cities and part seas - and being forced to keep them to myself, all because other people think that their own feelings are more important. Well, what of my feelings? What of feeling inadequate? What of the weight of being told to keep silent? Do they know what that does to a person?”

As they spoke, they could feel their heartbeat rise, pumping and roaring in their ears, in their veins. “Sorry,” they added. “I’m getting carried away. But to answer your question - I want to have the power to speak my mind.”

In all things?

They contemplated it. “Yes. In all things.”

The silence was real for a few moments before it became illusion.

I can help you.

“And will you?” 

Yes. It will require exchange, however.

At these words, Anonymous could hardly contain their excitement. “Anything. I’ll give you anything.” They took their purse out from their other pocket, and held it out towards the mound. “I have money. I have a house, too, but that’s back in town. You mightn’t like it there. My neighbours - ”

I would have your face.

Anonymous faltered. “My what?”

Your face. That is my offer. I will give you unlimited and unprecedented power to speak your mind. All thoughts you have will be given voice, and you will never again be forced to turn away from speaking aloud what you have always been taught to keep silent. In return for this extraordinary power, I would take from you your face, and in so doing I would give myself form and body. You would never again be silent; I would never again be invisible. 

“But wouldn’t I suffer without a face? How would anyone know that it was me who was speaking?” Anonymous asked, wringing their hands around their purse. 

I have named my payment. Now I would name my price. The price of this power is thus: the knowledge that all thoughts you give voice to will be dampened by your lack of face. That everything you ever say to another will be tempered by your lack of identity. That no-one will again know whose thoughts you speak; only that you do speak, and in all things. 

There was nothing for it. They would have to decline. They could not accept these terms. What power came at such a price, after all? What king had ever ruled his country with no name or face? What lover had ever made another theirs with no identity? 

All the times they had been asked to hold their tongue; all the times they had been scolded for speaking their mind; all the times they had uttered the wrong words at the wrong time and had suffered for it: all this had been for nothing. 

Although, Anonymous admitted to themself, the thought did appeal on one front, and one front alone. It was undeniable that a certain freedom was gained by completely giving up one’s identity. After all, who could be held accountable for a deed when the deed was done by one with neither name nor face? Who would they scold when the words that were given were not the words that were wanted? Who would suffer when the things said were not things that people wanted to hear?

Only those who heard them, of course, and not the one who spoke them. 

And immediately, ashamedly, wonderfully, the decision was already made, had perhaps been made years ago. 

“It’s a deal.” 

You agree to the payment and price?

“I do. Take my face, and give me the power I seek.”

The deal is struck.

And then the moon, which had begun to falter at its peak, was suddenly once more at its highest. The minutes had been returned. 

Hand trembling, Anonymous reached up to touch their face, only to find that, of course, there was no face. Where their image had been - the folds of their mouth, the curve of their nose - was now smooth and featureless. There was nothing there at all.

“Are you happy?” came a voice from behind them. 

Anonymous whirled around, and came face to face with their own face, worn by another. “Who are you?” they asked, and a thrill chased up their spine at the realisation that there was no fear behind these words at all. Their voice did not falter. The question was biting, crystalline.

“I am Magic,” replied the impostor, “given form by our deal. Is it to your satisfaction?” It cocked its head inquisitively, Anonymous’ old eyes seeking validation in their new setting, and Anonymous felt powerful. They were looking at their old self - their weaker, voiceless self - and they were free.

Anonymous drew a deep breath in before responding. “is having a ginormous fat peen a deal breaker for you?” they asked.

Magic blinked. “I don’t understand.” 

“yano,” continued Anonymous, “cuz u short.”

“Why are you saying that?” asked Magic, eyes darting left to right in placid uncertainty. “I don’t understand. I gave you what you wanted. You could say anything you wanted, and no-one would ever hold you accountable. You could take a lover with intricately crafted sonnets, bend ears with your scintillating rhetoric, and yet you choose - ”

“is having a ginormous fat peen a deal breaker for you? yano cuz u short,” interjected Anonymous, feeling giddy and drunk with power.

Magic blinked again. “You have the choice of a thousand languages, billions of words - ”

“is having a ginormous fat peen - ”

“Sometimes,” Magic interrupted, “silence is the more powerful weapon after all. I could undo what I have done, but I think it best not to bother. Some people will never learn. I wish you luck with all things, and may you one day find your power useful, for it will not aid you in the pursuit you have chosen.”

With that, Magic was gone, and Anonymous’ face was lost to them forever. Now alone, Anonymous looked gleefully at the small mound of earth that had been their salvation. They thought of all the things they would say tomorrow, and they smiled.

At least, they would have smiled, had they been able.

Far away, Magic rolled its new eyes, and decided to write a sonnet. 

EVAK FANFICTION RECS / PART 10

Halla! So, as time comes and goes, I’m here with another masterpost of some of my favorite Evak fanfics for you guys. As you can see, I’m trying to be a bit more creative and make these posts look at least somewhat more appealing, so I hope you like this little header I made (even though I suck at Photoshop).

As always, the list is divided into oneshots and chaptered fics.
My personal favorites are tagged with a “ ★ ”.
Completed chaptered fics are tagged with a “ ✓ ”

Without further ado, all the fanfics can be found under the cut. Enjoy!

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Fireworks - H.S.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I mumble. The twinkling lights are mesmerizing and I just can’t seem to focus on anyone else, not even the amazing man beside me that brought me here tonight. When Harry only hums a response, I take my gaze off the fireworks ahead of me and stare at his sharp jawline.

Lately Harry had been acting differently. At first I noticed little things, like him closing off and disappearing into his own head for short amounts of time, but after a while he started raising these walls around him, pretending to be someone who is not even though the real Harry I had met two years prior was something I wish everyone had in his life.

Of course, Harry did not only have a name to keep, but also a reputation. Yes, he was pictured as a womanizer and I think he did won best dressed male again last year, although I don’t keep up with that. I keep up with what actual Harry is up too, what ticks him, what he enjoys doing. Most of the things the media bring to attention aren’t very good small details of a bigger picture.

I think that’s why this friendship works so damn well. That might also be the absolute number one reason I fell madly in love with this man. I’d never risk anything to put our friendship in jeopardy, because I honestly believe I’d never find someone like him, ever again. He was the only real thing in a world filled with lies and misinterpretations.

I’m actually terrified I’ll never get to see the real Harry again. And whatever I try, I just can’t seem to get through to him. So when he appeared at my door, giant grin on his rosy lips and a bottle of expensive champagne held up in one hand, I couldn’t decline.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Harry laughs, pulling his bottom lip between his pearly white teeth before his glance is cast in my direction. I can feel the rosy hue appear on my cheeks, but they’re transparent to Harry’s gaze due to the harsh lighting of the fireworks going off in front of us.

“This lighting is doing you good.” I decide to go with a true compliment, although that wasn’t initially on my mind. I love the smile that it draws on his lips, the way his eyes crinkle and how he then casts his glance away. “Do you say that to all men?”

“Only you.” I shrug my shoulders with a grin and let a shriek flow from my lips when I feel Harry’s elbow collide with my ribs. “Hey, I gave you a really nice compliment and this is how you repay me?”
“What do you want to hear? How beautiful you look? You always do, Y/n.” Harry huffs as he rolls his eyes and fixates his gaze back onto the sparkly lights disappearing as quickly as they appear.

“You’re one of the most kind-hearted people I know Harry, you deserve all of this success you’re receiving, you know that right?” I decide to bring up the new single, the one that’s supposed to come out in just a few hours – at midnight to be exact. He hadn’t mentioned it since I had heard it when he had initially finished it. It was his baby, his first solo record and he didn’t seem to utter another word about it. It had been months and it saddened me because it was so damn good.

“How is that new man of yours?” Harry’s voice changes tone, and when I decide to peek I see the frown that has set onto his eyebrow. I guess we’re still not talking about it, and I decide to drop it. Last time I had tried to initiate conversation we ended up not speaking to each other for almost two weeks. Which were the worst two weeks of my life, really. “That’s over and done with, didn’t I mention that?”

“Well no, you didn’t.” Harry sighs and I see the small smile tug at his lips. I scoot a little bit closer to Harry, although I’m not sure why. “Well, sorry then.”
“Why did you break up? I thought you liked him.” Harry throws his arm around my shoulder and I lay my head on his shoulder, taking in a deep breath as I focus back on the popping flashing of light.

“I never really did, I think.” I mumble, dropping my hand onto Harry’s knee and giving it a firm squeeze. “I’m searching for something else.” I finish off, feeling my heart throb in my throat. Indirectly, in my own head, I had confessed my love for Harry. He would never see it as such, but that didn’t take away any of the anxiety coursing through my body.

“Well it’s great that you know what you want.”

“Don’t you know what you want?”

“Yeah, but I’m sure she hasn’t even given it a thought. I think I’m nothing more to her than just a really good friend.”

“Who says that? Harry if you want this girl, go and get her. Do you even realize how amazing you are? You always put me up when I’m down. You watch the most horrifying movies with me whenever I want to, without any complaint. You once showed up at my door just because I sounded blue to you on the phone. I’m sure whatever girl you want is just as madly in love with you as you are with her.” I grin, squeezing his knee for emphasis as I let my eyes dart along the sky, trying to follow every firework going off.

“Do you know what sign of the times is about?” Harry suddenly questions and I feel myself stiffen in his embrace as he for the first time in weeks talks about his song or upcoming album.
“Well I interpreted it as hope.” I decide to voice my own thoughts and feelings as simply as possible.

“That’s the great part of it. I think – in whatever time of your life you are, it might – I don’t know – can be interpreted in whatever way it suits you.” Harry starts to stumble over his words as if he were nervous, his ring clad fingers toying with his jeans as he avoids my gaze as well as the sounds going on around us.

“So you’re saying I’m hoping for something?” I smile, somewhat feeling my own nerves bubbling in my stomach as I pull away from Harry, smiling brightly at his twinkling eyes.

“Yeah, you could say it like that. But I think we all hope something, right?” Harry grins right back at me and I slowly let my eyes close, nodding once, but firmly at his statement – or question.

“Hm.” I agree verbally, wanting to lay my head again against his shoulder but he stops me, his eyes searching mine tentatively as I keep frozen in my spot. I let a low breath slip past my opened lips, my tongue darting out to wet them before I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, slowly biting down on it.

Something seems to click in Harry’s mind and before I can completely comprehend what is happening or is about to happen, Harry leans in but hovers right before his lips are about to meet mine. He lets me decide if I want this – if I want to kiss him and as soon as my brain has caught up to current events, I lean the short distance and press my lips firmly against his.

Harry’s large hand cups my cheek and for a second I feel like I might burst out into tears of happiness, but instead I settle for a large grin which almost breaks up our kiss. I feel the vibrations of Harry’s chuckle against my lips as my eyelids flutter.

Harry pulls away, keeping his hand in place, as he seems to catch his breath. His lips press to mine once more in a gentle, simple peck right as the last few fireworks make their last pop in front of us, illuminating the dark night sky.

Gunshot (a sneak peek)

So… This was written way back in January (yikes), when I first started to write the mafia au fic 8 Days a Week and only @kawaiilo-ren and a couple other people have seen it. You might think you’ve seen it before, because Kait is a babe and she’s been drawing the amazing comic of this scene (and murdering me along the way). 

My plan was to keep this private until it was time to publish it on Ao3 but life is short and I actually like this. People will probably forget by the time it’s published there anyway, oops. 

Under the cut because it’s long. 



Hospital hall is looking cold and bleak under the fluorescent lights, like it did many hours ago. Yuri doesn’t remember how long it’s been since he left the building but coming back feels like returning from war, maybe. He doesn’t know what war feels like. It must be exhausting, if it resembles this even slightly. 

Ignoring his shaking hands is easy, as is turning a blind eye to his pulsating head ache. His body is crashing after riding through the adrenaline waves and he would kill for a nap; but that would make the list of things worth killing for longer and he isn’t sure if he is ready to deal with the paperwork. He isn’t ready to deal with anything yet, he just wants to return the weapon to its true owner and fall into a lifelong slumber.

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anonymous asked:

Sterek "Are you trying to turn me on?" for the friends or more prompts, thank youu, love ur fics!! :)

Aww, thank you, nonnie! I hope you like it! (also on ao3!)

“Dude, are you trying to turn me on?”

Derek paused mid-sit up, his hands poised behind his head, fingers locked together, buried. in his sweat beaded hair. A tiny grunt of exertion died on his lips as he stopped, holding his position as he furrowed his brows and looked around the room.

It was a Friday afternoon in the middle of spring, rain beating a gentle staccato against the wall of windows, providing a soothing soundtrack for his workout regimen. With the full moon only a few days away, he was feeling a bit restless, an itch under his skin that he couldn’t scratch.

Usually, a run through the preserve would be enough to settle his nerves, the sun on his face and the wind in his hair never failing to soothe him, no matter the issue. Recently, the other members of the pack had taken to doing the same around the full moon, feeling the same restiveness and jittery uneasiness.

But with the rain showing no signs of stopping anytime soon, any hopes for a nice run through the woods were completely dashed. He knew firsthand how muddy the trails in the preserve good get and he would rather not get soaking wet.

So, he had decided to just work out at the loft, endeavoring to burn off his extra energy the only way he knew how. For hours he had been doing as many cardio exercises he could think of, from jumping rope to doing burpees, even jogging up and down the spiral staircase.

The result was a sheen of sweat over his body and a slight lessening of the pull of the approaching full moon, still feeling extremely restless no matter what he did, even when he began feeling the effects of exertion. He had switched to less grueling exercises after awhile, finding a spot on the polished concrete floor to do sit ups on, the floor cool against his back.

He was only twenty sit ups in when Stiles asked his disarming question, freezing Derek in his tracks. Taken aback by the unexpected comment, Derek peered over at the human who was sitting cross-legged on the couch.

Stiles had shown up at the loft about an hour earlier with a backpack full of spiral notebooks and heavy textbooks and the beginnings of bags under his eyes. Derek had been in the middle of doing some squats when Stiles had let himself in with the spare key he had taken the liberty of making himself.

Uncharacteristically taciturn, Stiles had explained that for whatever reason he could not focus at home and really needed to study for his upcoming finals. He had dropped his bag on the couch as he made his way to the kitchen, helping himself to the fridge and grabbing a can of soda and some leftover pepperoni pizza.

Derek had just nodded, mostly to himself as Stiles had been busy raiding his kitchen, and told him to take as much time as he needed, launching right back into his workout. Stiles had sent him a grateful salute as he shuffled back over to the couch, plopping down beside his backpack and propping his feet up on the coffee table.

Now, Derek peered over at Stiles who had his nose buried in his psychology textbook, alternating between nibbling his lower lip and gnawing on the end of a hot pink highlighter. He seemed perfectly nonplussed, occasionally scribbling something in the margins of his textbook, squinting down at the various charts and graphs on the page.

If Derek had not heard the unexpected question himself, he wouldn’t have believed that Stiles had actually said anything at all, the human not showing any signs of having said a single word. But he had heard it and he certainly wasn’t going to let it go unnoticed.

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A Lion’s Pride - Sebastian Stan x Reader - One Shot

Originally posted by jugheadcami

Originally posted by hard-on-for-hiddleston

A/N - So i’m gonna be using the same family if you like from I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa. So the usual Reader, Seb and Izzy.

Sebastian is really not happy when he see’s Tom trying to make a play at his wife. Little does he know it’s not like that at all. Major smut fest ensures.

Jealous Seb x Reader

Warnings: Smutty smut smut.

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The Only Exception (Part 7)

Summary: AU. Reader is given the task of running a popular love advice internet show when her coworker is fired. Her cynical attitude toward love makes her offer some harsh advice, and more than a few hearts are caught in the aftermath. Will hers be one of them?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 4,190 (sorry)

Warnings: language, mentions of injury, mentions of trauma, some confrontations, Sam being precious, reader self-reflection, mentions of threats, creepy emails

A/N: Guess who’s back…back again…Reader decides to take control of her life and do what she thinks is best. I really liked this part. That’s probably why I went a little crazy.

Part - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8

Originally posted by a-small-independent-princess

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there’s this girl

Title: there’s this girl
Fandom: miraculous ladybug
Rating: K+
Characters: Ladybug (Marinette), Queen Bee (Chloe)
Summary: Queen Bee has a secret. It’s not what Ladybug thinks.

“So there’s this girl.”

Ladybug cocked her head and stared at her friend with wide eyes, mouth falling open to say something, but the look on Queen Bee’s face stopped her in her tracks. Bottom lip caught between her teeth, gaze heavy on her hands clasped tightly in her lips, she looked hesitant and unsure, lacking the confidence and charisma that usually oozed from every pore. Ladybug didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t every day that Queen Bee chose to open up to her or any of the other heroes of Paris; she held her secrets and identity tighter than any of them did.

“For my father,” she’d say when asked why and rarely said more. Ladybug wasn’t arguing—she did the same thing—but it was different to have someone so similar working beside her. While she enjoyed Volpina’s presence, and Chat Noir was her partner, Queen Bee was something entirely new and unexpected, but not unwanted. Ladybug had spent so long explaining why secret identities were important, and while everyone had accepted that long ago, Queen Bee was the only person who seemed to understood why.

“So there’s this girl,” Queen Bee had said, completely out-of-the-blue and sending Ladybug’s thoughts into a whirlwind, unprompted on an early Saturday after an akuma battle under the silver sunrise of the Paris morning. “And I don’t know what to do.”

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Cutie (Chris Beck X Reader)

Y’all I just really missed writing Chris okay. Also YAY 200 FOLLOWERS

Originally posted by skywalkerr

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you mumbled, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Next to you, Dr. Beck chuckled, shaking his head. You turned to him, quirking your head to the side in a questioning manner. 

“What’s so funny, Beck?” you asked, eliciting yet another laugh.

“what are you ‘oh my god’ing about?” he asked, turning to face you, not before adding, “and that’s Dr. Beck to you, missy.” You giggled, continuing to nervously bounce. 

“Well,you know, it’s just that this is the last day of training, and in three days we’re gonna be in SPACE!” you exclaimed excitedly, causing the man beside you to smile. 

“Yeah, then I’m going to be stuck with you for months and months on end,” Chris faked annoyance, making you gasp and playfully hit his arm. 

“Hey, you two! Quit flirting, we have training to do,” Watney called, a cheeky smile on his face as he walked away. You were positive your cheeks had turned bright red, so you turned away from Chris as to not embarrass yourself. The problem with the guy was, you actually did like him. Of course, he could never know because it is not permitted for crew mates to be romantic with each other before or during the flight. 

“Oi, I’ll have to get him back later,” Chris mumbled, making you laugh.

“I like the idea of a revenge plan,” you replied, mischief sparkling in your eyes. You both set off down the hall towards the training area, hatching a revenge plan the whole time. 

-3 hours later-

You were all getting a break from training to have some sort of lunch. The whole crew headed towards the cafe, chatting animatedly about the upcoming launch. Martinez and Watney were having a competition to see who could make the best sexual innuendo, while Commander Lewis tried to keep a straight face. Behind them, Johanssen read something on her e-reader, hardly looking at where she was going. 

“(Y/l/n), come get a sandwich with me,” Beck whined, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the line. You smiled at this loose, childish side of him that didn’t come out often. You ere so enthralled by it- by him, really. He was simultaneously smart, caring, adorable, sweet, and dorky all at the same time. That was the reason you fell head of heels for him practically on the first day of training. 

“Which sandwich should i get?” he asked, scanning his eyes over the many options. 

“I say the turkey sandwich,” you said, and he nodded quickly, ordering one from the guy behind the counter. 

“I’m gonna miss real food so much once we’re in space,” he pouted, leaning against the counter as we waited for his food. You nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, me too, especially my Nona’s cooking,” you said thoughtfully, tummy growling at the thought of her delicious food. 

“It’s okay though, i’ll have you on board with me! I’d give up real food for you any day,” he grinned, making your heart pound. 

“Ditto, cutie,” you replied, also grinning, until you realized what you just said. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth and your eyes widened. 

“Nope. No, I did not just say that.I’m gonna just.. go over..there,” you stuttered, backing away. Chris held a blank face for a moment, then he broke out laughing. 

“Relax, (y/n)! You think I’m cute,” he teased, drawing out the end of ‘cute’. You turned firetruck red, looking anywhere except for him. 

“Yeah, I did. But it doesn’t change anything, kay? We’re going to space in three days, I can’t ruin that now,” you explained, finally looking up to meet his eyes. 

“That’s okay,” he smiled,” I can wait.”

That Was Not Acting - Cody Christian imagine

Summary: Y/n is an actress, she stars as Theo’s beta on Teen Wolf and has been for the past 1 ½ years. Her character Rebecca is required to have a steamy make out session with Theo leading into other things. No one knows that both Y/n and Cody are actually in a serious relationship until now.

Warning: Steamy make out sesh,kinda fluff and suggested smut.

A/N: gif credit to their respected owners ps ignore the fact i used Scallison as a gif it was the closest to my imagination XD

Originally posted by asplittingoffrerard

MASTERLIST


The day started like any other I arrived on set at a quarter to 8 as I always did, as usual Shelley and Tyler were on set first. I parked my car,grabbed my phone and bag then made my way out locked the car and went on with my way.

“Hey Y/n,on time as usual” Tyler greeted “that’s my girl” Shelley embraced me sweetly “So whatcha wanna do till showtime?” I asked “I dunno how bout pull a prank?” Tyler smirked wickedly “yes totally” Shelley moved her hands like a wicked scientist “but who?” I wondered “well we’ve done Dylan,Sprayberry,Ryan,Victoria-” Tyler began but Shelley cut him off “Khylin,Michael, Ian,J.R,Melissa,Holland,Each other” I pondered “Cody..we haven’t done Cody” I smiled nervously “that’s so true” Tyler exclaimed “let’s get a move on it he gets here by before 9″ Shelley expressed.

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02. we don’t talk anymore

Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, BestFriends!AU, Artist!Jeon

Ever since he had seen you play the piano for your music class, he’d been inspired by the complete look of tranquility that conquered your features as your fingered danced across the keyboard. He had made that tranquility his soul purpose of drawing. He dreamt of capturing that expression and gifting it to you.

Late nights, he was used to.

Sleepless nights, he was also used to.

But missing you was something he was not.  

These feelings were something completely foreign to him. As Jungkook tossed and turned every night, thoughts of you with him invaded his mind suffocating him. As he sat in his bedroom alone, his eyes frantically searched the room desperately trying to find traces of you. However, his effort was pathetic, it had been months since you’d been in here. Months since you’d seen him and months since he’d seen you. One would say he could always browse your Instagram or Facebook to see you but that was his biggest dread. Fear gripped him by the throat at the thought of stumbling upon a picture of you with him on any of his social networks. 

Jungkook glanced at his alarm clock, the glowing numbers letting him know it was just past 3am. The ungodly hour, you would call it. He smirked to himself remembering how you’d told him this was Satan’s time to lurk and if he was ever up he should go straight back to sleep or call you so you could sing him back to sleep. However, that never happened. It was always him who would sing you to sleep then he’d fall asleep himself to the sound of your soft breaths, wishing he was holding on to you instead of the electronic device.

He glanced at his phone which rested on his bedside table. It had been untouched and utterly dead for days. No one contacted him after you and he didn’t want to contact anyone but you. You were—are his everything. He reluctantly plugged his phone into the charging port. He should probably contact his family, let them know at least through text that was he was fine. His family were used to silence from him, he was an artist. When he was inspired, he would spend weeks attempting to finish his work in complete seclusion, all distracts turned off or turned away. Everyone was evicted from his work space, except you.

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Apples and Heroes

Originally posted by kissthejotun

Request: Can you please do a Star Trek story with Bones and the words “an apple a day keeps the doctor away”, “your pulse is weak,” and “all the apples in the world wouldn’t stop me.” They aren’t in your prompts list I hope that’s okay? Thank you!

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anonymous asked:

"I need you, though." Chlonette or Maribee? If you can! Love your fics btw they just keep getting better!

Ok… I had an idea… and I ran with it… and… yeah…. that escalated quickly.

most of this will be under a read more because its about 3k words long… 

(Also some mention of unrequited Chloe/Adrien and Adrienette) Hope you like it.


“You’re probably wondering what I am doing here.” 

“Yeah!” Marinette said, clutching her covers to her chest as she tried to process the sight of the super heroine sitting cross legged on the edge of her bed. “How did you even-” 

“I came in through your skylight,” Queen bee said cutting off the question with a wave of her hand, “Chat mentioned a while back that you usually keep it unlocked and I needed to talk to you.” 

“I am going to kill that stupid cat,” she muttered under her breath. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Marinette said quickly. “So, what are you doing here?”  

“Well you see, the thing is… wait are you naked under there?” Bee gasped, her eyes going wide and her face flushing an obvious red even in the semi-darkness.

“No! Why would you say that?!” Marinette shot back, her own face coloring. 

“Well you are doing the whole, blanket clutchy thing!” 

“Because a stranger has shown up out of nowhere in my bedroom in the middle of the night and I am in my pajamas!” 

“But I’m not a stranger I am a superhero. And I know that Chat visits you.”

“He doesn’t come in when I am sleeping!” 

“Oh. I guess you have a point there,” Bee said looking thoughtful. “Anyways I need your help.” 

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anonymous asked:

Reaper x reader where the smol reader steals his clothes a lot?

I  did this pre fall, hope that works for you anon!  Hopefully Reaper’s voice came out okay–I’m still working on figuring out his pre-fall character.


Gabe had never offered you anything to wear, even when you pretended to be cold.  You weren’t sure if it was because he knew that you weren’t cold, or his attitude was real.  All you would usually get from him was a “Shoulda been more prepared, Y/N,” with a chuckle.  Suffice to say, you never got him to offer you a jacket or even a glove.

So resorting to stealing his stuff?  That was his own fault.  One evening while he slept next to you you managed to sneak out of bed and grab his grey hoodie, throwing it over your head with a hushed giggle.  He didn’t even stir when you climbed back into bed, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling close.  By the time you woke he was gone, something you were used to.

However he had somehow managed to steal his sweater back, leaving you in nothing but a tank top to cover your torso.  It had freaked you out a little to know he’d gotten a sweater over your head without you noticing, but it only fueled your fire.

The next time you slept in his room you stole his boxers.  But again you woke without them.  Frustrated and feeling like this had become a contest, you found his hoodie slung over a chair by his desk.  You quickly dressed and grabbed it, making sure to throw it on before you left; this time he wasn’t going to get it back while you slept.  


You marched to his office, barely anyone giving you a glance knowing exactly who you were.  The boss’s s/o was never questioned; you could walk pretty much anywhere without anyone batting an eyelash at you.  But while you had a strange amount of power over those in Overwatch, you didn’t over your boyfriend.  So when you came to his office door you knocked and waited for him to say, “Come in.”

You entered, keeping your steps light and shutting the door behind you.  He looked up at you and you thought you caught him wince.  But he quickly grabbed a piece of paper and stood, walking over to a filing cabinet in the corner, his back to you.  

“Hey Gabe,” you said, remaining as cool as possible.  “What’s up?”

His grey hoodie hit you just below your shorts, giving the image of wearing no pants beneath.  You tucked your hands into the front pockets, cozy and warm in his sweater; you just wished he got a similar feeling when seeing you in his clothes.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” he asked, still refusing to turn around.  You heare papers shuffle as he searched through the files.

“No,” you replied, voice low.  You walked over to him, ensuring your footsteps were loud but he still didn’t turn.  You poked your head to the side, trying to get him to look at you but he only looked the other way.  You shuffled to the other side, and again he looked away.  “Why won’t you look at me?”

“I’m…looking for a file,” he said.  His fingers fumbled through the papers before him, drawing your attention.  “I’m busy right now so we’ll have to talk later carino.”

You almost believed him, but something in your tone irked you.  So instead of leaving you used your height to an advantage and weaselled your way under his elbow, forcing yourself between him and the cabinet.  Popping up, you pressed your back against the drawer and shut it with a loud slam.

“Why are your cheeks so dark?” you asked.  Gabe bit the inside of his cheeks, trying to turn away when you grabbed his face and made him look at you.  And there, along his cheeks, you saw something you weren’t even aware he was capable of.  You squealed.   “Are you blushing?”

He huffed at you, grabbed your wrists and lowering them, twisting his neck to look away.  Thankfully he didn’t try to run, and kept hold of you.  Finally, his eyes glanced down at you, slowly moving down your body before meeting your gaze again.

“How many?” he asked.

You pressed your palms flat against his chest.  “What?”

“How many people saw you come here…dressed like that?”  Again, he looked down at the hoodie that covered most of you body.

You shrugged.  “A few.  Why?  You embarrassed that people can actually see I’m your s/o?”

Hurt and anger swelled in your stomach.  Was that why he always took his clothes back?  Or didn’t kiss you in public?  He was fine if people knew you were together but seeing it was something completely different?  You pulled out of his grip and crossed your arms, looking down at his chest as a lump in your throat formed.  Of all the things you thought about your relationship, every doubt that would wriggle into your mind, him being embarrassed of you was not one of them.

“No no no, carino,” he said quickly, cupping your cheeks to make you look at him.  He pressed his forehead to yours eyes closed as he sighed.  His breath was warm against your skin, and you had to stop yourself from kissing him then.  “I…cannot have you wearing my clothes.”

“Why?”  You let your arms fall to your sides.

“Because I cannot stop from…”  He let out a huff of a sigh.  “I cannot control myself when I look at you in them.”

Your own cheeks warmed.  Looking up at him now you could see he was still flustered.

He continued, “It’s not…professional.”

A giggle escaped your lips, making him pull back and look at you.

“Sorry,” you said, “that’s just…really cute.  So you do like when I wear your things?”

With a small smile he let his eyes slowly take in the sweater you wore, lingering on your exposed legs.  “I like it when it isn’t a surprise.”

“Well you never offered so I had to resort to alternative methods.”

Gabe’s hand moved to your waist, pulling you against him.  He leaned down and took your lips into a soft kiss.  Your eyes fluttered closed, hands gripping his biceps as you pressed onto your toes.

“I’ll make you a deal, carino,” he said when he pulled away.  “If you stop stealing my clothes and walking down the hallway like this…” One hand slid down the curve of your ass before he pulled at the hem of your shorts.  “I will give you anything you want to wear when we are in private.”

“And you’ll stop taking them off while I’m sleeping?” you clarified.

He grinned.  “I can’t guarantee I won’t take them off while you’re awake, but yes.  I will steal nothing back.”

“Deal,” you agreed.

“Ah, you know how we seal deals,” he said, leaning down again.  “With a kiss.”