the shots of the different apartment windows

  • what she says: i'm fine
  • what she means: but why are joey and chandler's apartment and monica and rachel's apartment so different in layout? they're in the same apartment building, they're literally right across the hall from each other, they cant have that drastic a difference in layout. especially the windows. what if all the apartments in that building are different? the exterior would look like a clusterfuck of a bunch of different windows. and on top of that, the transition shot when the next scene is going to be in the apartment shows a building with windows extremely different from what we see inside the apartment. and how do they have a balcony, but the guys dont? we know that mr. heckles doesn't have a balony, because rachel was hanging from a string of christmas lights and she was outside of mr. heckles' window, not a balcony. but they dont live on the top floor either, because they complained about the neighbors upstairs getting rid of the carpeting. what does this building even look like?
How the Winter Soldier shot Nick Fury

I’ve been wanting to make a post about this for a while, even though I might be the only person invested in this, but anyway, here we go.

I’ve seen mentioned several times, in posts about the movie and in fics that the Winter Soldier shot Nick Fury through the window of Steve’s apartment, and every time it makes me groan in frustration because no.

The Winter Soldier didn’t shoot Fury through a window, he shot him through a wall, and I don’t know about you, but it seems like a pretty big difference to me.

(bullet hole in the wall!!)

When I saw the scene the first time, I remember thinking holy shit??? that’s crazy, and for me that’s when the Winter Soldier really became a real, terrifyingly good assassin, that’s when his image as a serious threat solidified.

Read about the blogger getting carried away under the read more.

Keep reading


Part 2

Spencer stayed still, collapsed in the grass for what seemed like an eternity. His beloved wife had been taken away to the hospital and the subsequently to the precinct to undergo an interview. The wife he loved so much recognized him, but not in the way he wanted. “Kid?” Morgan asked. His big brother hadn’t left his side the entire time. Everyone else on the team had floated in and out of the crime scene. Some had gone to the hospital with Y/N and others had immediately headed to the local precinct. “What are you thinking, kid? Tell me. Don’t keep it in.”

Silent tears fell from his eyes as he stared off into the distance. The sun was going down and the horizon line was beautiful, tinged with pinks and purples and oranges. One would normally be in awe, but all Spencer could feel was anger. How dare the world show him such beauty when his life was crumbling all around him! “I almost wish she didn’t recognize me,” he said softly. 

Swallowing hard, Morgan closed his eyes. It didn’t take a genius to know why. The look in Y/N’s eyes when she looked at Spencer was one of innate fear, as if deep down in the marrow of her bones she was scared for her life in his presence, where three years earlier she’d have fallen asleep by his side with no hesitations, completely vulnerable, but comfortable in that vulnerability. At least, if she didn’t know who he was, he could reintroduce himself into her life, but how was he supposed to push through three years of programming - programming that had left his own wife desperately afraid of him.

Morgan pulled out his phone. It was JJ. By the look on Spencer’s face, she knew that he was frozen in place. His body had been at least, but his mind had been simultaneously numb and yet bursting with possibilities of hope that were pulverized over and over again by the terror in his beloved’s eyes. “Kid, she’s been checked out at the hospital and she’s at the station now.”

“How is she?” he asked flatly, barely making eye contact with Morgan before adding. “Physically I mean.”

“Physically, she is okay. The doctors assume that there is no need for physical violence once…”

“Once the person has accepted their fate…oh god!” As the tears streamed down his face, he fell into Morgan’s shoulder. “What am I going to do?”

“Do you love your wife?”

“Of course, I do. But that’s not her. That woman is afraid of me.”

“Then you need to bring her back to you,” Morgan said. “It’ll take time, but it can be done.” He was doing his best to put on a brave face for his kid brother, but even Morgan couldn’t be sure what was going to happen. Maybe Y/N was too far gone. “You ready to go?”

“As I’ll ever be.”


When Spencer and Morgan finally arrived back at the station, Y/N was already in an interrogation room, her supposed daughter in another room coloring under the watchful eye of Penelope. Hotch had asked her to watch over the child to keep Garcia calm, knowing how she tended to fall apart when their work affected one of their own. “Has anyone spoken to her yet?” Spencer asked.

“No,” Hotch replied. “Not yet. And you can’t be the one to do it.” Immediately, he placed his hands on Spencer’s shoulders, noticing the younger agent’s hesitance. “You know you can’t.” Spencer knew things were bad - not only were his insides gnawing themselves apart, but Hotch’s eyes were glazed over with tears; he was shaking himself. The last time that happened, Haley had been shot while he sat by helpless. “Who do you think should do it if not you?”

“JJ,” he said. JJ had been the closest with Y/N. “Can I stay outside the room? Observe?”

Hotch nodded. “Yes. But you cannot go inside.”

“I understand,” he spoke softly. He bit his bottom lip and approached the window. The differences between Y/N and Rebekah were startling. Y/N’s smile had been soft and easy, but Rebekah wasn’t smiling - her lips were stuck in a grimace, the thin lines chapped and nearly cracking. Her once beautiful locks were now pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head. And her eyes. Her eyes had forced life in them, but behind them, they were dead. That’s what broke him. Spencer lifted his hand to his mouth to stifle a cry as JJ walked into the interrogation room and introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Agent Jennifer Jareau. I’m here to ask you a couple of questions.”

Y/N extended her hand and forced a smile. “I’ll answer any questions you have, but can you please tell me how my daughter is?”

Spencer’s worst fears were confirmed; she had a child by this man. “She’s currently coloring in a room with one of our technical analysts named Penelope Garcia. She’s great with kids, so your daughter is in good hands. She’s beautiful. What’s her name?”

The woman, Rebekah, Y/N - she smiled. It was the first true smile he’d seen. “Thank you,” she said. “Her name is Ilaria.”

Outside the glass window, Spencer nearly fell over into Hotch. “Does that name mean something?”

“It’s Italian,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up into the smallest of smiles. “It’s the equivalent to Hilary in English, which was derived from the Latin word hilarius, meaning cheerful. It’s the name we’d chosen if we ever had a daughter. It means she’s still in there somewhere.”

@coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @hogwarts-konoha @the-yellow-girl96


Prompt: Loved Birthday and Booze! Would you be able to do another Jason Todd x reader where Jason tells the reader he loves her for the first time.

Y/N: Your name

TW: swearing, briefly, like once….

Pairing: Jason Todd X Reader

Word Count: ≈790

You kicked off your heels before you sat on your well-used couch, in your little somewhat-run-down apartment. You had a tiring day, working for Wayne media department, you went around to different hospitals, seeing what they needed, or how if they using the Wayne Enterprises supplies properly. You also stopped by clinics to check up on them as well.

Though Wayne Enterprises helped most employees with finding and financing safe-housing, sometimes it wasn’t enough. You had woken up by the sounds of gun-shots multiple times. Or by a certain vigilante knocking on your window. You drug you out of your exhausted state of mind and, with sore feet, limped over to the window. You pulled the blonds away to reveal a bleeding Red Hood. Without hesitation, you unlocked the multiple locks and pulled it open. “Heya Y/N.” Red Hood greeted as he unceremoniously fell through your window.

You simply went back over to the closet by your door, “What is it today?”

“Gunshot nicked me,” he groaned as he slid onto the floor and shut the window, pulling on the string to close the blinds, “it’s shallow, but it’s bleeding.” He finished s he removed his helmet, showing you his masked face.

You nodded as you grabbed your first aide tub from the top shelf of the closet, having to set up on the bottom shelf to reach the top. You pulled it down and shoved it under your arm as you climbed back down. You walked over as Hood removed his jacket to show you his arm. You pulled your hair up onto a bun, before you went to work. It was routine, but it made you remember the first time the vigilante had come to you for help.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:


An hour’s worth of makeup and hair styling, wandering around my apartment for 20 minutes to find the best lighting and angles to take selfies, and then taking 200 selfies and only posting the best ones. And in nice cosplay pictures, there’s a professional photographer on the other side who’s spending 20 minutes messing around with lighting and taking 200 shots and then taking the 3 best ones and putting them through Photoshop.

Like these are taken about an hour apart. The difference is hair, makeup, and opening my bedroom window curtain for better lighting: 

Like don’t get me wrong, I’m super cute all the time no matter what, even when I’m in my Cave Goblin state of being. But I’m not gonna lie, the “HOW????” is usually a bunch of steps that no one sees that make me prettier in my social media life. It’s definitely not how I look 24/7 and it doesn’t come naturally to me and it’s never effortless. 

And the Night Has Come

Promptis Fan Week Day 3: Late Night Conversations

Promptis. Angst. Sorry. AO3 Word Count: 1543


For once in his exhausting, confusing life, Noctis Lucis Caelum could not sleep.

A mist drifted through Insomnia, dimming the glimmer of the Wall, casting the city in a darkness that was thick, suffocating. And it was silent, as if the city turned away for the prince and gave him a sense of privacy that dared him to sneak out of his apartment.

Noctis let his feet carry him, barely seeing the empty city streets, sparkling with the mist droplets. Behind him, the Citadel loomed but he hurried away from its shadow, head down. The tips of his hair grew damp and there was definitely a chill but he just jammed his hands deeper in his hoodie pockets and walked.

Noctis knew this path though; the fish market, the luxurious department stores; the public park that bloomed pink in the spring; the water front that sliced through Insomnia. He knew the bridge that rose over the water, connecting the two city sides. He knew where to the jump the fence, knew how many steps would take him to the pedestrian underpass, now hours closed. And he knew who would be leaning against the rail when he reached it.

Apparently, Prompto Argentum also could not sleep.

Keep reading

That’s Not Me

Castiel x Reader - High school AU

A/N: The day has come! It’s this special Angel’s birthday! In celebration, here is a crappy and rushed series. I cracked the very last chapter out within like three hours, please forgive me for spelling errors or the poor quality ending.

That’s Not Me Masterlist

Summary: After stumbling upon a piece of graffiti in a closed down video store, you gain interest in who might have made something so gorgeous in such a small town and try to put everything together to figure it out.

Warnings: brief mention of sex

Word count: 3596

Originally posted by princesscas

It wasn’t exactly unusual to see graffiti all over the blank white walls of buildings or hidden away in the dark alleyways between houses, but it was always the same; either a racist blood red swastika or people’s tags that were sloppily painted. Unlike your father, who was a police officer, you really enjoyed the look of graffiti – if it’s actually art – and you’ve always wished you had some form of artistic talent to be able to create something so beautiful that doesn’t require words.

A recently closed down video store was to the right of you, squished in between a technology store and a music store, its windows smashed and its glass door cracked at the hinges. A hissing came from inside of the building, your eyebrows shot up in surprise as you peeked inside slowly, your head turning from left to right. It was completely dark inside, apart from the centre of the room that was illuminated by the two small windows at the back of the store.

Looking back and forth down the empty street, you climbed in through the shattered windows and carefully stepped closer until you were able to see somebody standing at the side wall that had been covered by a large shelf. The light was shining on the wall, revealing a gorgeous cluster of different hues that formed a soaring eagle, behind it were large black and white mountains that looked oddly familiar.

The man, or woman, stood in front of the wall, their hand going back and forth with a spray can as they coloured in a small section of the mountain they had earlier painted. Whoever it was, they hadn’t known you had entered the building yet, they must’ve been really into their work. It was so much more beautiful than those horrific tags on the building beside it, and you couldn’t help but stare at it in amazement.

Without thinking, you took another step closer to the wall, but only happened to step on a couple of scattered glass that must’ve been from the window. The artist turned around rapidly, but you weren’t able to see their face as a hood covered their head. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” you said, your eyes flickering back to the wall behind him, “I just wanted to see it. I-it’s really gorgeous.”


Judging by the voice, it sounded like it was a guy; a young one at that. Although, his voice was muffled by mask over his mouth and nose that was barely noticeable.

Believing that he knows you weren’t going to call the police, you took another step closer, only for him to grab his stranded backpack and run out of the back exit door. It didn’t surprise you that he ran, you probably would’ve done the same thing.

You took a couple more steps towards the wall until you had to lift your head to see the top of the mountain, which had a miniature flag with a bumblebee on it. The eagle was painted in a mix of blues, purples, pinks and yellows, and was almost as large as the wall itself. The corners of your mouth curled into a small smile, finally knowing that somebody around here might be able to change people’s opinions of graffiti. This is art, not vandalism.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can you do nsfw with Bokuto & his s.o in a white shirt that gets wet? Cause you know, it becomes see through.. *wink wonk*

So this is written by our two new admins!

It started as a fun day out, enjoying the good weather and each other’s company. Bokuto and his partner laughed, as melted ice cream dripped from their fingers.

However, their day out had been cut short, as the heavens decided to open and hadn’t closed. Bursting through the door to Bokuto’s apartment, (Name) almost tripped over the welcome mat, water logged hair interfering with their vision. Bokuto grinned as he caught their elbow, saving them from what surely would have been a painful encounter with his floorboards.

As they paused in the entryway, Bokuto finally got a good look at his partner. All at once, his pants got tight and his breathing hitched. Their white shirt had been soaked through by the rain, causing it to become almost completely transparent. It stuck to their skin in an appealing way, making Bokuto’s brain short circuit.

His partner seemed to notice his sudden quietness, glancing over to him from where they placed their shoes and raised an eyebrow. Glancing down, (Name) felt their cheeks heat up slightly at the sight of their see through clothing. Looking back up, Bokuto refused to meet their eyes, pointedly looking to the side, hands trying to cover the growing erection caused by the wet shirt.

Hiding a grin, (Name) moved closer to him, sliding their hands up his chest, slinging their arms around his neck and playing with the ends of his damp hair. Automatically, Bokuto’s arms wrapped around their waist, pulling them even closer to him as he leant back against the wall.

Shifting ever so slightly, (Name) found themselves in the perfect position to fit a leg between Bokuto’s, grinding lightly against the bulge in his pants. He groaned, fingers digging into their hips a little more, their name falling from his lips in a soft whimper.

They mouthed at his neck, hot breath washing across his cool skin and their fingers ran through his hair, just as they knew he liked it. Bokuto groaned, hands grabbing at their clothing just enough to make the buttons pop, but not to rip.

Hands, eyes and lips roamed freely, both too impatient to move their impromptu activities into the bedroom. (Name) trusted Bokuto to keep them both upright, as clothes flew off and chilled skin was bared for the other to see.

They moved quickly, goosebumps forming along the expanses of skin, their breathing laboured as Boktuo finally pushed into his partner. (Name) moaned, the full feeling edging their senses to the limit.

“Kou-Koutarou!” The cried, as he pulled out and pushed back in slowly. “P-please!”

Bokuto grinned, turning himself and his partner around, so that they were pushed against the wall and he could fuck them from behind.

Slowly, almost agonisingly slow, he started to rock into them, encouraged by their moans and whimpers. Faster and harder, Bokuto revelled in the tight feeling around his cock as they climaxed, a long drawn out moan the signal of his own release.

Panting from the exertion, Bokuto held his partner upright against him as they both came down from their highs. Smiling at the sheen of sweat over his partner’s skin, Bokuto gave them a light kiss, before herding them off to shower.


Written by the other admin!

Normally, the rain was nice. It was soothing and peaceful and the sound of it tapping against the window pane could very well be considered beautiful. Being caught in it whilst out on a date with your favourite captain? Suddenly not so nice. “I’m really sorry, ____.” Bokuto sighed once again, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. You brushed it off with a grin, ruffling out your wet hair after stepping inside your apartment.

“It’s fine. It added some adventure to our date, don’t you think?” You shot him a wink, and the quick action - meant to be perceived as friendly - was taken an entirely different way when his gaze flickered down your front and oh god he forgot your shirt was white.

It didn’t take much to catch him staring - not that he seemed to be trying to hide it to begin with, and it was only when you crossed your arms across your chest with an indignant flush on your cheeks that he seemed to snap out of it. “Quit staring.” You mumbled, shyly fidgeting in place. With an almost wicked grin curling his lips, he stepped towards you, hands pushing up the soaked hem to trail teasingly across the wet skin of your waist.

“It’s not good to keep your wet clothes on, you know. We don’t want you getting sick.” You pouted and called him a pervert, but he seemed to think it more funny than anything, and laughed at your response, tugging your shirt over your head. Fingers trailed over wet skin, gathering up rain drops on his calloused fingers as he explored your body. “I think I can warm you up.” The captain waggled his brows as he grinned at you, lips gliding along your neck as soon as you released your whimper of affirmation.

His hands worked quickly to rid you of your clothing, taking a step back once you were nude to drink in the sight of your wet body. “Now me.” He crooked a finger to call you over, and you took his order immediately, hands gripping at his clothes and near tearing them in your haste to get them on the floor. Bokuto laughed at your impatience, grasping at your wrists before you could tease between his thighs. “Not today.” He muttered, snagging the back of your thighs and hoisting you up to loop your legs about his hips, the muscles in his strong arms rippling with the action. Your back was pressed to the wall and he was inside you and god he was so hard. “H-Hnn..ah, shit - you feel amazing.” Bokuto muttered lowly, his breath hot against your ear, teeth nipping swiftly at the lobe and chuckling at the pleased whimper you gave in response. The pace he set was nearly brutal, and his hands found your hips squeezing tight enough you swore bruises would be left in their wake come morning. Remnants of this moment with him.

“H-Hah~” Your fingers were in his silvery locks, fisting and tugging as you tried to ground yourself in the moment. It was impossible to think of anything save for the male in front of you - the fire in his eyes, the guttural way he would growl your name, the flush on his cheeks, and the way in which he took you; hard, quick, and desperately, filling you up in a way no one else ever could.

When you came, it was with a harsh cry of his name, the crown of your head thumping against the wall as your fingers dug in to his bare shoulders. It was after a few heavy thrusts of his hips that he followed you over that edge, his forehead pressed against your shoulder, lips parted to allow a low, deep moan to fall off his tongue. It took a moment for the two of you to finally get a hold of your breathing, and when you did, you wasted it with loud laughter. “So,” Bokuto grinned, hands gingerly easing your thighs away from his hips so you could stand again, “are you warm, yet?”

“Still a little chilly…” You murmured, giggling as he snorted in amusement and kissed you again. No, it definitely wasn’t the way you had planned for this date to go, but…it was well worth it, in the end.

fic dump part five

title: hangover

summary: it’s a little bit of a mistake on killua’s part when he wakes up shirtless with a raging hangover in a stranger’s house, but it turns out it’s an even bigger mistake when he realizes three things. one, the stranger is actually his friend kurapika’s neighbor; two, the stranger happens to be very handsome; and three… the stranger is also sort of half-naked. 

notes: from november 24, 2014; unrevised and unfinished, read at own risk

Keep reading

Chapter One: Rude Awakenings

Alright, friends, chapter one of Six Mornings After is up! Snarky snippet:

Six feet in one night?”

“And more tonight.”

What? How is that possible?”

“I don’t know.”

The door to the kitchen suddenly swung open, admitting a frowning, spatula-wielding Damon. “There’s a chance I’m still drunk,” he began, twirling the spatula around for fanciful emphasis, “but you guys live on the second floor, right?”

“And?” Bonnie sighed, in absolutely zero mood to deal with Damon’s shit at the moment.

He shrugged. “Nothing, really – just wondering why the ground’s now magically up to your window.”

Her face paled, and she immediately set off toward the living room’s old bay window, wrenching the curtains open with a sharp whoosh. Sure enough, the snow had accumulated to just below the sill. It looked like they were on the first floor. Jesus Christ, this was a snowpocalypse.

“I can’t get out of the building!” Caroline exclaimed as she burst back into the apartment, causing all heads to turn to her. “The door literally won’t move; it’s like there’s a freaking wall behi—” her voice cut off as her gaze landed on Bonnie, and more specifically, the window behind her. She blinked. “Is that the snow?”

Stefan shot her a ‘hello?’ look. “Did you miss the part where we got six feet?”

“Yeah, but we’ve gotten six feet before, right?”

His brows flew up. “In one night? Literally never.”

She looked at Bonnie for confirmation, and the brunette winced, shaking her head.

The characters are definitely going to seem a wee bit different from how we’ve come to know them, but I’ll be weaving more and more of their traits in as the story progresses. Hope I didn’t destrooooooy this.