the-hands-are-my-favorite-part

deepseanymph asked:

I've never done any glamour spells but I really want to, do you have any that would be a good first couple to do, and/or your most successful ones? :)

Hi there!
Here are my three favorites. ( I’ll make two separate posts with two sigils that i made the other night. They’re also glamours)

1) glamour solid perfume ( this is a spell by recreationalwitchcraft )

* rose essential oil
* 1/8 part beeswax
* 1 part grape seed oil
* sweet orange essential oil
* optional: a pinch of gold glitter

2) Enchanted mirror spell ( inspired by a spell I saw here on tumblr and Snow White. Personal favorite because I think it’s cute!)

Gather some rose water and leave the pedals in the water. Afterwards dip the mirror into the water.

Chant:
Mirror, mirror in my hand
Who’s the most beautiful in all the land

Lift the mirror out of the water. You’re image will show your true beauty.

3) Witches’ kiss

Take your favorite lipgloss/lipstick and
Draw a simple beauty sigil on the lipgloss/lipstick, any one of your choice. Charge it by chanting some thing along the lines of “ only true beauty shines when this is worn” or “ my beauty runs wildly and freely” then put it on.

Olicity Fic Survey

Part I – Your work

The fic I’m really proud: clean, because it’s so different from my normal kind of writing.  Plus, Tommy! 
The fic I had fun writing: Between Love and Skate
The fic that stressed me out a lot but ended up okay: Probably have to say Blinded by Love and Daring, since it was such a big accomplishment and I really wanted to get it right.
The most popular fic I have: This is such a hard question to answer!  But based on the number of people who have asked for a sequel, I will say The Secretarial Arts.

Part II – Olicity Fandom Work

Favorites

Favorite Post Season 01 Fic: Hands by redtoes
Favorite Season 02 Fic: The Ways of the Universe by @moiradearden / CyberQueens
Favorite Post Season 02 Fic: Between the Shadow and the Soul by apinknightmare
Favorite AU Fic: Traitor by edanyeros

Genres

Best Angst Fic: empty the skies out by fosil
Best Domestic Fic: Lists I’ll Never Finish by alicecoldwater
Best Fluff Fic: give me a sign (the universe conspires) by mystarsandmyocean
Best Humor Fic: Get Fit (It’ll Be Fun They Said) by weonlyliveonce
Best Hurt/Comfort Fic: looking down from a great height by wagamiller
Best 5+1 Things Fic: Strategy by LJC
Most creative AU: Scattered by @marceyes / andachippedcup

General

Best title:  What Would Hildy Johnson Do? by seren_ccd
Best atmosphere: Clinical Measures by bee1103
Best characterization:  Hideaways by @jaegermighty 
Best slow built: What Happened in Vegas … by Jules_Ink
Best love confession: Eight Ways to Say I Love You by @rosietwiggs 
Best date: A Night Like Any Other by spyglass
Best proposal: Somewhere Between the Thirty-Second and Thirty-Third Floor and Nine Minutes by anthfan
Best get together fic: All In by Infie
Best kid fic: Something I Need by leviosaphoenix
Best trope fic: Too Busy Being Yours to Fall by @andymcnope
Best comfort-food story:  Let Your Heart Be Light by callistawolf
Best fic you thought you would hate but ended up loving: Felicity’s Sweet Revenge by tinaday3w
Fic you never knew you always needed in your life:  Actions Speak Louder than Words (And Other True Sayings) by so-caffeinated
Most thought provoking:  no man is an island (oh this i know) by @confidentalityspice


Smut

Best foreplay: Long Time Coming by machawicket
Best sex scene (not considering the rest of the fic, just the sex): A Weekend in Vegas by BingeWriter
Hottest fic you’ve ever read: Cleared for Take Off by Nightkeepr
Hottest oral sex: Eleven Minutes Left by TeaWithLemon/ teawhovian
Hottest UST:  Soul Shine by dust2dust34

My favorite part of the guns for hands music video is when it shows Tyler playing piano because he’s not even playing the song he’s literally just smashing the keys

ohmypreciousgirl asked:

Hey Marc! Well, even though I had a lot of problems with this season of Arrow, I really enjoyed the finale. It was the best episode of the season, hands down. You should be proud of it! It gave me a lot of feelings, so congrats on doing that! Oliver, Felicity and Diggle were my favorite part of everything - as always. I can't wait for s04 to see Oliver and Felicity as a couple and working as partners, Dig and Oliver becoming friends again and of course more Thea! Again, congrats!

I’m glad you liked.  Thanks for watching!

other significant thoughts regarding daredevil:

  • wilson fisk is. ugh. so creepy. but what a well-written (and more importantly, well-acted, the entire character hinges on the actor’s performance) villain.
  • i like madame gao but she’s also horrendous and also the only villain who seems to have any handle on what’s going on. again, i like competency.
  • i wish claire had a bigger part in the show.
  • MY HANDS-DOWN FAVORITE EPISODE WAS THE ONE AFTER FOGGY DISCOVERED MATT WAS DAREDEVIL AND IT WENT THROUGH THEIR FRIENDSHIP LIKE I LIVE FOR THAT. THE HERO’S BEST FRIEND DISCOVERING WHO HE IS AND HAVING TO DEAL WITH THAT BUT ALSO JUST THEIR STORY AND THEM BEING AFFECTIONATE BROS LIKE BURY ME RIGHT HERE WHY DON’T YOU
  • the one thing. the one thing i cannot get over is WHY DOES NO ONE NOTICE MATT’S MASK DOESN’T HAVE EYEHOLES. like when he’s talking to ben does ben not make the connection “hey, your mask literally has no eyeholes, do you not need to see? wait, i know this blind lawyer who is very close with the people helping me in this investigation. WAIT A MINUTE.” LIKE WHY DOES NO ONE OUT OF THE HUNDREDS OF BAD GUYS HE CURBSTOMPS NOTICE HIS MASK HAS NO EYEHOLES
  • i really, really appreciate how catholicism has been worked in as a genuine part of the character’s lives, neither to tear it down or raise it up but just as part of the world they live in. and yes i am very aware that christianity has an advantage when it comes to positive representation in media. i know other religions, major religions like islam and judaism, have it far worse. it’s just for me personally, after six seasons of supernatural slowly tearing apart christian mythology and making the angels awful and god gone, after episode after episode of doctor who where religion in general is no more than a system designed to keep the gullible sacrificing to the strong, it’s so nice to watch a show i care about and have the show say, “hey, i’m not going to attack the religion you practice.” and it fits in the context of the world, matt is irish catholic, the emotional crux is all about the devil and human morality. would i love to see other religions get respectful, positive representation as well? absolutely.
  • every time they make an avengers reference without actually dropping any copyrighted names it fills me with glee
2

tell him with your hands shaking (one shot) by hammersandstrings
Sebastian glances over his shoulder every so often, partially to peek because he’s only human, but mostly because Kurt is uncharacteristically quiet while he slices and dices and mixes the pasta sauce. The most noise he makes other than the knife scraping the cutting board comes from the wine bottle he keeps unceremoniously taking long drinks out of and clunking back down to the counter.
- - - - - -
This is one those “x times and then once” fics which are always cute. Sebastian is being utterly adorable in this (the 4th part is my favorite and the ending is so cute!) and once again amazing writing :)

Without a doubt, one of my favorite moments in YGO is when Joey is telling Serenity that ghosts don’t exist and RIGHT AT THAT MOMENT YAMI PUTS HIS HAND ON JOEY’S SHOULDER.

The best part about this is the fact that when Yami came out of the room, he noticed Joey and Serenity listening to Duke and Tristan talk about the “ghost” that saved them from sudden death off the blimp. He overheard Joey’s comment.

SO YOU KNOW THAT MOTHERF**KER PUT HIS HAND ON JOEY’S SHOULDER RIGHT AT THAT MOMENT JUST TO FREAK HIM OUT YAMI YOU TROLL

did you know (quint)

-you were humming my favorite tune
though you just made it up,
and my hand itches most afternoons
for company
-twelve is magic but one more is ok,
and despite a traveling tongue
I don’t care much
for whether my Gemini status
defines me
- after four decades it is no easier
to face forward
though good shoes help
and your own voice becomes louder
(which is why older people shout- they can’t hear over their own thoughts anymore)
- you can catch me
with a freshly laundered sheet
and the best part is the shapes
our shadows make
when we crinkle it up again
- we can subsist
on bread and wine
and if that’s not true
we will fade happy and unencumbered

Preference Series {AU: Aboard the Titanic} Night Time Talks (His POV)

Sorry it took so long! AP Testing happened, and Zayn was giving me writer’s block. Lol. Here’s the next installment! I hope you enjoy it!

~ Chrissy

Master List

Part 5

Part 7 (COMING SOON)

Harry: He’s in First Class.

               The First Class Reading and Writing Room was empty at this hour of the night, but I didn’t mind. I enjoyed the silence for a change, and it allowed me to focus on my book.

               My hands held one of my favorites, The Hounds of Baskerville. I always loved a good mystery, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle always delivered.

               My nursemaid had introduced the stories to me, reading the first works by Doyle that contained Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. Eventually, when I had learned to read, I could not get my nose out of the copy, and I had to have more.

               Unfortunately, my father and grandfather never approved of my love for fiction. They preferred I spent my time learning about the stock market or about my family’s history, so I had no choice in the matter of what I could read.

               However, my nursemaid, who encouraged my love for Sherlock Holmes’ stories, would occasionally gift me a copy or let me borrow one of her copies.

               God, how I missed that elderly woman. She took so much from the alpha males of my family, who ultimately fired her for encouraging my “childish conduct.”

               It was a sad day when she left, but I wrote to her often.

               In my next letter, I would tell her about another nursemaid that I had met, and how, in some ways, she reminded me of her.

               I wouldn’t get into too much detail about Y/N. I wouldn’t tell her how beautiful I thought she was or how I wanted to get to know her. If I told my nursemaid any of my true feelings about Y/N, I would surely not hear the end of it.

               She would tease me about falling in love.

               The thought made me smile.

               But I wasn’t in love…just infatuated.

               Yes, I brought my hand up to rest my chin on, just infatuated. Nothing more.

               Why was I bothering with such thoughts, though? I managed to distract myself from my book, and it wasn’t often I could find the time and place to take it out.

               I let out a sigh, shaking my head as I turned the page and continued reading.

*****

               The door to the room swung open, but it was the sound of footsteps that alerted me of it; the door never hit the wall.

               "Oh! I’m sorry…I didn’t know that someone was here                                                                                                                                                                                                                    …“

               "Y/N?”

               I blinked, unable to believe my eyes. What was she doing here so late at night?

               "Sir?“ she looked just as shocked as I felt.

               I marked my place in my book before closing it and setting it on the table beside the armchair I sat in. I got up and walked towards Y/N, who seemed to have frozen in place the moment she had realized it was me.

               I didn’t mind, though. I got a nice view of her in her nightgown and robe; her hair was down, flowing freely and not in that tight bun she was donning earlier.

               This was probably the prettiest I’ve seen her.

               "I-I thought no one would be up here this late. Excuse me, Sir,” she suddenly turned from me, heading towards the exit, but I wouldn’t let her get away that easy.

               I grabbed her tiny wrist in my large hand, and for a moment, wondered how a grown woman could be so small.

               I was brought from that thought when I felt her flinch at my light touch. I hadn’t been holding her that roughly…

               "Are you okay?“ I found myself asking instead of what I really wanted to say.

               She seemed to have calmed down, "I am…I just didn’t expect you to…”

               Something told me there was more to it than that, but I still had trouble getting her to call me by my first name instead of “Sir;” getting her to tell me about what bothers her would be close to impossible at this point.

               "I’m sorry, then, Y/N, but it seemed like you wanted to be here when you came in. Don’t let my presence deter you from your original desire. In fact, I would love your company.“

               She gave me a faint, tired smile, "I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d come here and write a letter to my family back home.”

               She revealed the stationary and pen she had kept in the pocket of her robe.

               "Then, by all means,“ I pulled out a chair for her from the nearest table, gesturing for her to take a seat.

               "Thank you,” she sat down, allowing me to push her chair back in.

               As she unfolded the paper in front of her and smoothed it out on the table, I walked around to sit across from her. I rested my chin on the back of my hands, leaning over the smooth surface to watch her begin her letter.

               Her handwriting was exquisite, and she wrote fast; I could tell she knew what she wanted to say.

               "Do you often write to your family?“ I questioned.

               She nodded, "I do it whenever I can’t sleep.”

               "So you have trouble sleeping?“ I frowned, putting two and two together.

               She realized her faux pas, and her hand stilled. She looked up at me, "Sometimes.”

               "Oh. That is unfortunate…“

               Silence once again, and it tortured me. I wanted to get to know her better.

               "What is your family like? I’m sure you saw mine at supper,” I grinned at her.

               "Well, I have a father, two younger sisters, and a younger brother,“ she replied, not looking up from her letter.

               "So your mother is…”

               "She died giving birth to my youngest sister.“

               "Oh…I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean…” I quickly straightened up, feeling horrible for bringing up such a topic.

               She gave me an assuring smile, “It’s okay. It was a long time ago, after all.”

               "Do you mind me asking what she was like?“

               Y/N put her pen down, letting out a sigh, but now, I had her full attention.

               "My father says I remind him of her. We look alike, to him, but I never saw the resemblance. As a child,” she snickered, “I used to think she was a runaway princess. She was beyond beautiful, inside and out.”

               I smiled, resting the side of my head on my hands. Y/N was oblivious to her own beauty, and that just made her more gorgeous in my eyes.

               "I used to follow her around the small cottage we had, copying everything she did because I so much wanted to be like her,“ she laughed, looking down at her lap. "She used to catch butterflies on her head.”

               I furrowed my brows at that statement, “On her head?”

               Y/N nodded, “They loved her scent, so when she was still enough, one would land on her head and stay there. I was always jealous because I wanted a butterfly to find me appealing.”

               It seemed like that was all she wanted to tell about her mother, so I went to speak only to stop when she opened her mouth again.

               "I didn’t believe my father when he told me she was gone.“

               She looked melancholy now, and I could tell that time hadn’t healed all the wounds left from her mother’s untimely death.

               I got up from my chair and moved the one next to her closer to her. I sat down, and Y/N met my gaze, tears threatening to spill over.

               And, somehow, I knew what to do.

               I never had to comfort a crying woman before, but here I was, holding her in my arms as she sobbed into my chest.

               She cried for a bit before coming to her senses and separating them.

               I missed her warmth and scent, but I didn’t say anything.

               I just thought stupid things like how, if I was a butterfly, I would’ve landed on her head.

Liam: He’s a Crewmember.

               I couldn’t sleep. Nights before this, I had no trouble, but we hadn’t been out to sea during that time…

               I don’t know why I felt so anxious. I was tired; my body ached after hours of shoveling coal in the engine rooms, but my brain seemed to be on constant alert.

               My sheets were kicked off, and I was wearing nothing but my cotton pants, which I had been a fool to sleep in.

               Knowing there was no way I was going to get any rest tonight, I got up with a sigh and climbed down from my top bunk.

               I put on my shirt, one of the only two I had to wear while working. It had been dirty earlier, but Y/N had been nice enough to clean it for me while I bathed. She also had cleaned my work shorts, which I was grateful for. I only had one pair of those, and they were beginning to smell.

               God, I must have looked like a mess to her, covered in soot and sweat, but she still gave me the time of day.

               I grinned to myself as I pulled on my shorts and threw my pants back onto my bunk. If and when my brain decided to let me sleep, I’d come back and put them on before going to bed.

*****

               The Third Class General Room would be empty this time of night, so I felt comfortable going there. The ship had been designed to make sure that the crew and passengers never met, but I got lucky. I met Y/N.

               When I opened the door to my destination, I was graced with a sight that I would never forget.

               She was an angel, lying on one of the benches in her nightgown and robe; the moonlight illuminated the soft skin of her cheek while the other side of her face was in the shadows, resting on her folded hands. On the floor beside her was a ball of yarn and a project she had to be working on before she fell asleep.

               I didn’t know what to do.

               Should I wake her?

               No. That was entirely too rude, and I didn’t have the heart to do so. She looked so at peace, and after chasing those two rambunctious siblings of hers, she must have been tired.

               Should I leave?

               And go where? Back to my room to stare at the ceiling some more? The picture before me was a prettier thing to admire. Besides, I shouldn’t leave her alone like this, where anyone could take advantage of her.

               In the end, I sat on the bench next to her sleeping head, resting my right arm on the arm of the bench.

               From where I was sitting, I could only see her backside, but her hair looked so soft. I was tempted by it, especially that lock that seemed to have fallen in front of her face.

               Before I thought much about it, I gently pulled the strands of hair that were close to her face back, watching them fall down her side and towards the bench.

               I nearly jumped out of my skin when she let out a sigh. I jerked my hand away and watched, with bated breath as the sleeping beauty turned onto her back.

               Her eyelashes fluttered as she brought up her arms to stretch, and, boy, she looked adorable.

               "Sleep well?” I asked, a smile making its way onto my features.

               Y/N froze in her stretch before shooting up into a sitting position. Her hair formed a halo as her head spun to look over at me.

               "Liam!“ she pressed a hand to her chest. "You scared me!”

               "Sorry,“ I chuckled lightly.

               "What are you doing here? How long have you…?”

               "I could ask you the same thing, Love.“

               She blushed at the last word, looking down at her lap, "I came up here because I couldn’t sleep…”

               She looked down at the needles and yarn she had discarded on the floor, “I knit to calm myself.”

               "Calm yourself?“ I frowned, slightly confused.

               She nodded, meeting my gaze, "When I can’t sleep, it’s usually because I’m thinking too much, and knitting makes me focus until my mind stops swimming.”

               It kind of made sense to me, though I had never knit before. My mother liked to crochet gloves, scarves, and hats for me, but I never really watched her or bothered to learn.

               "What are you making?“ I questioned.

               "Oh, well, when it’s finished,” she bent down and held up her work, “it’s going to be a sweater for the baby.”

               "How can you make a sweater from one rectangle?“ I reached out and felt it.

               Y/N giggled, "You make the shapes you want and sew them together.”

               "You know how to do all that?“ I raised a brow as she put the future sweater back down.

               "I do,” she grinned, looking proud of herself. “My grandmother taught me.”

               "Oh…it’s great that you have such a skill.“

               "I’m almost done with it, so if you want…” she trailed off, looking away before looking straight into my eyes, “I can make you a scarf…”

               I didn’t say anything; I was too happy to.

               But the silence made Y/N a little antsy.

               "Oh! I’m sorry. Did you want something else? I would knit you a sweater, too, but it would take me more time because you’re not as tiny as a baby. Also, I don’t think there would be enough time before we arrive–“

               "A scarf is fine,” I chuckled, putting my hand on hers to stop her rambling.

               "O-okay,“ she looked down at our hands. "What color would you like?”

               I watched her in amusement as she tried to keep herself composed. She clearly hadn’t been touched by a man before, even with as pure intentions as mine, “I don’t care. Whatever you have is fine.”

               "How about black and white?“

               "Both?” my eyes were back on her face, wide in shock.

               "Yes,“ she said as if it were nothing.

               "You can do alternating colors?”

               She nodded her head, “It’s not that hard, really.”

               "Are you sure?“ I asked with a slight frown. I didn’t want her spending all her free time knitting for me.

               "Yes, I am. I should have it done for you in two days time.”

               Two days? Was she a master at knitting?

               "Alright, then. Thank you,“ I gave her a smile that she returned.

               Time passed in comfortable silence, and I had never felt so content just sitting with a person. I felt myself relaxing beside her, my hand still holding hers, and I began to wonder if I could fall asleep right then and there.

               But Y/N was the first to show signs of sleepiness.

               "Excuse me!” she exclaimed, bringing her opposite hand from her mouth after a yawn.

               "Tired, Love?“

               "A bit,” she yawned again. “Excuse me…”

               "It’s okay. Why don’t I walk you back to your cabin?“

               "Okay,” she got up with me, letting me keep my hand wrapped around hers.

               "Don’t forget your sweater,“ I leaned down and picked up the yarn and needles.

               Her lips curved into a tired grin as she held them to her chest.

               When we finally made it back to her cabin, she could barely keep her eyes open, and I was beginning to yawn.

               "Thank you, Liam. For everything,” she said, turning to face me.

               "It was no problem, Y/N. Thank you for offering to knit a scarf for me…“

               "That’s nothing compared to all the help you’ve been giving me.”

               I felt bashful at her words and looked down at our joined hands.

               I didn’t want to let go.

               "Well,“ she sighed, causing me to lift my head and see her dazzling smile, "goodnight, Liam.”

               "Goodnight, Love.“

               Her fingers then slid from mine, and all warmth vanished with her.

Louis: He’s a Stowaway.

               I woke up in a terrible sweat and practically drenched, but the first place I looked was over at the person in the bed.

               Her back rhythmically rose and fell underneath the sheets, and it helped steady my own racing heart.

               The nightmare had been too life-like even though the ship was deemed "unsinkable.”

               I needed a drink and a way to cool down, so I swung my legs over the side of the settee only to feel something soft beneath my feet.

               I furrowed my brows at the sensation before looking down to see a blanket…I picked it up with my left hand before feeling it with my right. This was…

               I looked over at Y/N.

               She must have put this on me once I had fallen asleep.

               I felt the corners of my mouth turn up in a smile.

               She doesn’t hate me…

               I put the blanket aside before getting up and walking over to the sink. I turned the cold faucet on and cupped my hands. I drank, enjoying the fresh water in my mouth and the cool droplets running down my jaw.

               Once I was satisfied, I splashed my face with the water a few times, using my hands to bring it through my hair and across my neck.

               I turned off the water and grabbed my towel that I had hung on the corner of the mirror. I was in the middle of drying my face when…

               "Louis?“

               Her voice was so soft, as if she meant to caress with her words.

               "Yes, Miss Y/N?” I answered, reaching up to hang the towel.

               "What are you doing up so late?“ she inquired, and I heard the rustling of sheets followed by her footsteps.

               I saw that she was now behind me. The mirror showed a gorgeous woman, dressed in a silk nightgown with her hair cascading down her back, free and wild from her constant tossing and turning.

               "Are you feeling well?”

               I turned to look down at her, crossing my arms over my chest, “I’m fine. What are you doing up, Love?”

               "Don’t use my own question without answering it!“ she frowned, mimicking my posture.

               I smirked at her. Even at this time, she was as feisty, "For your information, Miss Y/N, it is none of your concern whether I am asleep or awake.”

               Her frown deepened before she spun around, nearly whipping me with her H/C locks, and stomped to her bed, “Excuse me for worrying!”

               With that, she lied down and covered herself with her sheets, making sure her back was to me.

               I sighed before deciding I hadn’t had enough of her just yet. I headed over to her bed and sat down right next to her.

               It wasn’t long before she was sitting up with the biggest of scowls on her face, “What do you think you’re doing?”

               "Well, we are married. Shouldn’t married couples share a bed?“

               Her face turned three different shades of red before settling on the darkest.

               "Don’t be ridiculous! We are not married, and we will never be married. Therefore, your conduct is completely inappropriate! Please go back to sleep over there,” she gestured towards the settee.

               I noticed the blanket and remembered her kindness.

               I looked away from her before obeying.

               I headed over to the settee, settling myself down. Once I was in a comfortable position on my side, facing away from Y/N, I covered myself with the blanket.

               All was quiet until…

               "Louis?“

               "Hmm?”

               There was a pause before, “I’m sorry I was so harsh. It’s just…when I saw you up I began to worry.”

               "There’s nothing to worry about. I just had a bit of a nightmare. Nothing terrible,“ I yawned.

               Her sheets moved again, and then I was blinded by the cabin’s light.

               "Bloody Hell…” I groaned, covering my eyes with the back of my arm. “What did you do that for?”

               Suddenly, I felt two hands on my arm, pulling me up but failing to an extent that deserved pity.

               I lifted the arm she held, twisting to look up at her through squinted eyes, “What is it?”

               "Come with me,“ she urged.

               "Where?” I arched a brow, the beginnings of a smile forming on my lips.

               She tried to suppress her own grin but failed miserably.

               "Just come.“

               I did as she asked, not knowing why or where, but this was the first time she showed any spontaneity. I was excited to see what would come of it.

               She led me out into the hall, up a few flights of stairs, and through a door to the Second Class Promenade.

               The chilly sea air hit me like a bucket of ice water on a hot summer day.

               I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes and listening to the sound of the water as the ship made her way through it.

               But Y/N didn’t stop walking.

               Her delicate hands were still wrapped around my arm, as she took me for a stroll along the deck.

               Once I knew she wasn’t going to explain herself, I spoke up, "Why here?”

               She looked up at me, a smile making its way onto her features, “Whenever I had nightmares…my father would take me for a walk outside, through the neighborhood. It didn’t matter what time of night, what the weather was like, or how old I was. And it always helped.”

               "But you forget I’m not a child, Miss. Y/N,“ I grinned at her, putting my hand on top of one of hers.

               "Really?” she arched a brow, slipping her hand out from underneath mine. “You act like one sometimes, Louis.”

               I chuckled at her insult, knowing she meant no harm by it.

               "But believe me, Love. I am more of a man…“ I took her last hand off of my arm and brought it to my lips. After a bestowing a peck upon it, I looked up at her, ”…than a child.“

               And in the moonlight, her cheeks turned the prettiest shade of pink.

               I let go of her, "So…” I cleared my throat, “what did you and your father talk about on these midnight outings?”

               "The future. His hopes. My dreams,“ she walked along beside me.

               "Shall we talk of them?”

               "Only if you share yours as well.“

               "Alright,” I nodded my head before throwing her smirk. “Ladies first.”

               She gave me the most adorable pout that I would’ve given in to if she hadn’t started to speak.

               "In the future, I see myself as a bestselling author, and I have a brownstone on the nicer side of New York City, overlooking the water…“

               "Is that it? Do you live all alone in that brownstone?”

               "Well, maybe I’ll have a housekeeper or butler, but other than that…“

               "Sounds pretty lonely, if you ask me.”

               "I suppose…“

               "Do you never wish to settle down with a husband?” I questioned, finding it quite strange for a girl her age.

               "I wouldn’t say that…If I meet the right man,“ she sighed as she rested her head on the rail, looking out at the dark sea, "I’ll marry him and have a couple of children with him…”

               "Did you tell your father this?“

               "I did, and he told me that all he requests is for me to be happy.”

               "I see…“

               For a moment, all I could hear was the sea, and I thought that, maybe, I got away with not telling her my dreams.

               But, alas…

               "Your turn, Louis.”

               "Hmm…“ I leaned back against the rail beside her, crossing my arms over my chest, "I don’t really have dreams…They’re more like goals.”

               "Oh?“ she straightened, giving me her undivided attention.

               "I want to work in New York City, make a decent living, and bring my family over there.”

               "Then?“

               And I was honest, looking her straight in her e/c eyes, when I said, "I never thought that far.”

Niall: He’s in Third Class.

               I walked down the Third Class Passenger halls, sighing periodically.

               I really couldn’t sleep with all the noise my bunkmates were creating. Rooming with a family that has a father that snores as loud as the Titanic’s horn wasn’t going to allow me to. Everyone else in the room was sleeping soundly, used to the man’s sounds, but I had been lucky to have lived in a two-bedroom house back in Ireland. My father was too far to be heard, and my brother has been gone for long enough, now, that his nightly songs were a horror I had gotten used to living without.

               I remember the day he came home, announcing he had just used half of his savings to buy a ticket to America.

               At first, our parents were furious and almost crucified him for spending his money so carelessly, but I was focused on the fact that he was leaving us.

               I grew up with Greg. He was my best friend, and I followed him everywhere.

               One ticket on a ship headed across the Atlantic didn’t allow me to do so.

               Yet here I was.

               I snickered.

               I was still following him.

               I was going to America with the same goal in mind, and I had met a girl…

               I frowned, mentally rebuking myself for thinking Lady Y/N was the same for me as Denise was for Greg. I wasn’t going to marry her, and there was no way she ever would look at me in such a way. She was probably bored–though, I don’t know how should could be–with her high society teas and luxuries. She saw me by chance and decided I’d be a good form of entertainment.

               I didn’t mind that.

               She was going to teach me how to read, which would help me secure a better job than my brother had, and she entertained me, too.

               There wasn’t much for a Third Class passenger to do except play cards or walk around.

               She was someone to talk to.

               And she was temporary.

               The last thought didn’t sit well in me, though. I wanted to think of her as at least a friend, even though she was a lady of the rich. I didn’t have friends like her at home.  All of my companions were male, and I didn’t interact with the girls of my hometown much. Between working and nights out for drinks with my friends, I didn’t really pay much attention.

               At the bar, some of the men in our group would flirt with the woman tending to our table, and some were, I admit, pretty. None caught my eye, though.

               And after meeting a girl like Lady Y/N…I don’t think any self-respecting man could go back.

               "Niall!“

               I was brought from my reminiscing to see Lady Y/N, standing opposite me, behind the gate at the bottom of the Third Class staircase.

               They locked these gates to keep the Third Class from intermixing with the upper of the two classes. Only certain staff members had keys, and the chances of getting one to give you a key were pretty slim.

               "Lady Y/N?” I approached the gate, feeling the cool metal as I curled my fingers around it.

               She frowned at my propriety, “Y/N.”

               "Sorry,“ I said, bowing my head and wetting my lips, "but what are you doing here?”

               "I came to see you,“ she grinned, her eyes sparkling.

               My heart leapt into my throat, giddy from her words, but I hid my happiness, "Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

               "I could ask you the same question,“ she arched a brow before letting out an airy chuckle.

               I let out a sigh, "You really shouldn’t be down here…”

               She rolled her eyes, “Calm down. Everyone’s asleep, and we’re both wide awake. Why should we be lonely?”

               God in Heaven save me; her smile lit up the halls, and I found myself unable to deny such radiance of anything.

               "So how was supper?“

               Her face brightened even more, if that was possible, as if she knew my question was my white flag.

               "It was delicious, and the food was to die for,” her smile dropped, “though, I fear I cannot say the same about the company.”

               I furrowed my brows, “Who did you dine with?”

               "My parents and…“ she hesitated for a moment before saying, "some friends of the family.”

               "Oh…“

               She nodded, "The mother seems nice, but the father and son…”

               She cringed.

               "I understand, but at least the food was good,“ I pointed out, trying to bring back some of the light to the conversation.

               "Why? Was your supper not satisfactory?” she asked, her pixie-like smile returning.

               "No. On the contrary, it was probably one of the best meals I’ve had.“

               "Oh? What was it then?”

               "Some pork and potatoes with fresh bread and fruit afterwards.“

               Her face lifted in surprise, "That’s all?”

               "Um…yes. That was what I had,“ I said, slightly confused by her reaction.

               "I’ve read in books about the working class, but–please forgive me for saying this–I couldn’t believe such stories!”

               "Why? What did you eat?“

               "Well, the first course included various hors d'oeuvres. The second course consisted of a choice between soup or salad, and what a variety of soups and salads there were! It was so hard to choose, and…” she trailed off before locking her eyes within my gaze.

               "What’s wrong?“ I asked, wondering why she had ceased in telling me about her meal.

               "Nothing,” she shook her head, shrugging. “I’m just wondering why I’m telling you about my supper when I could just have you eat it one of these nights!” she stated with the happiest of expressions on her face.

               I frowned at her suggestion, “But I can’t go to supper with you.”

               Her face dropped, “Why not?”

               "Well…I’m in Third Class, and as you can see from these gates,“ I sighed, hanging my head, "they don’t really want the classes to mix…”

               All was silent after that, and for a moment, I thought she had left, finally realizing the inevitable, but as always, Y/N surprised me.

               I felt soft finger tips on top of my calloused ones, and I felt all the heat in my body rush to my cheeks as I met her soft gaze.

               "Niall, we’ve already mixed the classes by spending our day together, “ she pointed out with a matter-of-fact smile, "and I don’t care what is proper anymore.”

               "But-“

               "All my life, my parents made sure I had little to no contact with people outside of our own social standing. The few friends I have were chosen for me, and I would bet my whole fortune that I will end up marrying someone chosen for me. For once, I want to decide who I get to be around. For once, I want to be with someone of my own choosing, so please, Niall, come to supper with me.”

               How could I say no to her? How could anyone say no to the prettiest girl on the planet while she was pouring a fraction of her heart out to you?

               I couldn’t.

               "Fine,“ I bowed my head, "but when?”

               "Tomorrow!“ she exclaimed, her blinding smile back.

               "Okay, but then you have to come to supper in the Third Class Dining Room the following night.”

               Her eyes widened in surprise, “You really want me to?”

               I nodded, feeling a bit worried that she would turn me down.

               "That sounds great!“ she practically screamed before pressing herself up against the gate and bestowing a kiss on my already flushed cheek.

               Before I could react in any sort of way, she took off back down the hall to where she had come from, "I’ll see you at the library tomorrow after breakfast! Goodnight, Niall!”

               And all I could do was stand there, smiling like a fool with a hand to my cheek.

Zayn: He’s in Second Class.

               You woke up to a mouth full of smoke. Coughing so hard that it hurt, you sat up in bed to find yourself in your childhood home, your home before the orphanage.

               You knew immediately that this was a dream, nothing more than your mind’s torturous way of reminding you of what you once had.

               You’ve experienced this dream before; it haunted your sleep throughout the years, but you could never escape it until you saw your parents for the very last time…again.

               Everything felt so real, so in the moment, and you were running, inhaling the toxins that filled the air despite your every effort not to.

               You slammed open the door, rushing out into the hallway. You look towards the stairs where the smoke came from and covered your mouth as you began to ascend it.

               The part of you that knew that this was all a nightmare screamed for you to wake up because what was up those stairs and behind a door was the fire…and your parents. A sight that a young child should never have seen was waiting for you.

               Despite your conscious’ desperate pleas, you opened up the door. You willed your eyes open and saw the flames in the curtains, spilling onto the carpet and bed before it. Two figures were screaming for their lives, too busy with the fires engulfing them to notice their child had entered.

               "Mommy! Daddy! No!“ you screamed so loud that your voice seemed to cut through your throat, too big for it.

               Then you felt yourself being restrained, being pulled away from the only people you loved. You thrashed and fought with all your might as the scene before you faded away to grey.

               "Y/N! Y/N, wake up!”

*****

               I woke to the sound of the cabin door hitting the wall.

               Startled by the noise, I scrambled to get out of the settee, my sketchbook falling to the floor along with my pencils.

               I threw the sheets back onto the cushions before stepping into my trousers and securing them around my waist. In the process of fixing my belt, which I had left in the hoops of my pants, in place, I stumbled through the open doorway and out into the hallway.

               I looked to my left to find no one there, but to my right…I saw Y/N.

               She was running like a madwoman, as if her life depended on her getting to her destination.

               Fearing the worst if she were caught, I ran after her, still barefoot and shirtless.

               She rounded a corner, and I knew she was heading for the stairs. I also knew there was no way I was going to catch up to her at this rate, especially if she kept her pace.

               I couldn’t stop, though, so I followed her, up the stairs and into the First Class Promenade.

               She paused in the doorway. She wobbled a little, and I reached out to grab her before she could fall.

               The minute my arms settled around her, she began to fight. Her limbs stretched out, flailing and looking for the person who held her back when she wanted to, with every fiber of her being, take a step forward.

               It was then I knew she wasn’t awake.

               Her eyes were closed, and she began to scream.

               "Mommy! Daddy! No!“

               I covered her mouth with my hand, knowing she would draw attention if she hadn’t already.

               "Y/N! Y/N, wake up!” I called, hoping my voice somehow got through to her.

               She calmed a bit, becoming silent, but she still continued to struggle as I scooped one arm under her knees and lifted her up.

               "Y/N, I need you to wake up,“ I spoke, carrying her back to the stairs.

               She stilled, and I watched her face, waiting for any sign to tell me that she was okay. Her eyelashes fluttered before her Y/E/C eyes opened to meet mine.

               "Zayn?”

               I nodded, a smile I tried to keep down lighting up my face.

               "Oh, thank God!“

               Her words came out in a sob as she wrapped her arms around my neck. I felt her tears on my skin, and I promptly brought my hand to the back of her head, pressing her closer to me.

               "It was just a dream,” I whispered, resting my chin atop her hair.

               She cried harder in reply, her arms tightening around me, and I knew that there was more to the situation than what met the eye.

               This had been more than a simple nightmare.

               When we returned to the room, I kicked the door closed behind me and walked her over to the bed. With her still in my arms, I sat down on the edge of the mattress.

               By this time, her tears had finished, and she loosened her tight grip on my shoulders, looking up at me with her tired, yet gorgeous, eyes.

               "Do you want to tell me about it?“

               The question was out before I could think better of it, and I inwardly cursed, hoping I hadn’t triggered another onslaught of sorrow.

               Relief washed over my body as she moved her head up and down in a lazy motion, "May I?”

               "Of course.“

               She let out a breath, "Unfortunately, what I dreamed just now was not the result of my imagination.”

               "When I was little, I lived in a tiny town with my parents. I was their only child, though, my mother was…“ her exhale came out in pieces. "I was five years old when it happened. Riots ravaged the town, and many of its inhabitants were unhappy under the mayor’s law. My parents were innocent, but…”

               Tears welled up in her eyes as she continued, “They set our house on fire, and we were fast asleep…”

               She chocked on a sob, ending her words as droplets ran down her red cheeks.

               "Shh…“ I hushed, wiping away her tears and cradling her in my arms.

*****

               It did not take long for Y/N to fall asleep, and feeling quite ready to return to my own slumber, I moved her with a gentle hand, getting up before turning and lowering her to the bed.

               She stirred, grabbing my wrist just as I was about to pull away, "Zayn?”

               I froze.

               "Will you allow me to be indecent this one and only time?“

               My heartbeat quickened at her request, but I found myself saying, "Yes.”

               "Could you please lie with me tonight?“

               She was right in that the act of lying with a woman you had no intention of marrying was beyond improper, but how could I say no when she had just relived her parents’ death?

               I climbed into bed with her and turned onto my side, nearly at the edge, crossing my arms over my chest.

               Like this, I knew sleep would be hard to come by, but I refused to hold anyone but my wife in such a situation, even though my whole being itched with the desire to pull Y/N close to me and comfort her.

               No one could come in and reveal our impropriety, so, maybe, with the promise of secrecy…

               "Thank you, Zayn.”

               Her voice broke through my conflicting thoughts, and then the answer became clear.

               I switched positions on the bed, meeting her gaze as I faced her. My fingers found the small of her back, and I lightly pushed upon the area, hoping she would understand.

               She did; she moved closer, snuggling into my chest like a child, and I resolved to think of her like that. I would view her as one of my sisters, who, when we were children, would climb into bed with me whenever they had experienced a bad dream.

               But as time wore on and her breathing steadied, I realized I went to sleep faster with my sisters curled up against me.

               Here, with Y/N in my arms, I didn’t want to sleep.

               I wanted to watch her, memorize the curve of her cheek and the length of the lashes that lay upon them.

               As if feeling my eyes upon her, she buried her face into my bare chest, hiding her features from my sight.

               I stroked her back, resting my lips against the top of her head.

               I’m in trouble, aren’t I?

               I snickered at my own thoughts, giving into them.

               And then sleep came easy.

Shortly after Depa is cut down by the clones, they begin a search of the nearby area for Caleb and ingeniously he buries himself underground to hide from them. Once the area is clear, there’s a panel of his hand shooting up through the ground, which is eerily reminiscent of the trope innumerably used in films/TV shows about the (un)dead rising, and it’s that connection and its importance for Kanan’s story which make it my favorite panel. In a way, when Caleb buries himself in the ground, he ‘dies’ and leaves the part of him that was to be a Jedi behind. He is reborn when he breaks out of the ground, no longer the padawan he used to be and no longer on the path to being a Jedi like he wanted, instead on the path of survival.
— 

http://mynockmanor.com/canon-comic-review-kanan-the-last-padawan-2/

Warning: The above linked site has a SPOILER w.r.t. the SWR Season 2 Premiere. CAREFUL WHERE YOU CLICK!

This is, hands down, my favorite Legend of Korra fanfic of all time. Nothing will ever take its place.  It’s a beautifully written character study of Asami. Evocative language that’s both pregnant with emotion and quietly restrained. I’ve never been much of an epic, multi-part fic reader myself. I vastly prefer shorter vignettes and one-offs, and this fic is a prime example of why I swing this way. In just 1300 words, it accomplishes so much.

Whenever I write Asami, I never feel ownership over her, never feel like she’s truly mine. But whenever I read this fic (and I’ve re-read it so many times), I feel like it’s really her, that this is the real Asami Sato.

Anyway, it’s heartbreaking and unbelievably economical and incredibly poignant. The last section, also, really gets to the heart of what Korra represents to Asami in just a few short lines. Really affecting.  

Please read it. 

whythehandbasket asked:

Oh! OHOHOHOHOH! SO glad to see you paying attention to Haikyuu! I understand what you mean about unshippable ones! I LOVE the Kenmhina friendship so much- and I agree on the Daisuga front as well (although I do lean a bit towards Kurodai, there's some interesting things going on there.) Anyway, I was curious about Noya- he's my hands down favorite, and I know there's a lot of AshiNoya out there, but I just can't. Thoughts about my little quasi-shota?

KURODAI IS GREAT TOO I noticed a lot of Moments between them when I was rewatching and rereading all the Nekoma parts :D 

I really love this…

🔥🔥🔥

Ahem, Kurodai diversion aside.

Noya is one of the most remarkable characters in Haikyuu!!. To do him justice I’d need a lot more time and rereading and knowledge than I currently have, but to answer your question for now, my favourite thing about Noya is how he manages to balance that brand of self-assured pride along with a constant thirst to improve. It’s so well developed in his character. He isn’t cocky or arrogant in the least, and yet, his confidence shines through.

I can’t put it better than Yaku, so I’ll let him do the talking for me.

And this is one of my absolute favourite Noya scenes, from very early on.

This panel honestly gives me chills. The illustration of it is stunning. The way it spreads across the page, all the white space around Noya, the way the ball hangs suspended in midair like someone’s hit the pause button on his play, the way Noya’s gaze is fixed forward and his body is mid-motion. It really captures Daichi’s meaning in one powerful, poetic frame. You can feel the intensity with which Noya plays and throws himself into the game.

I love Asanoya, more for their friendship but I can get into them romantically as well :) Noya isn’t as much one of the unshippable ones for me as Hinata and Kenma, but I do enjoy the Asanoya friendship more than I do their potential romance.

Speaking of Asahi though, what really gets me going with him is the Asadaisuga OT3 friendship of the third years because HHHNGHNHG all that they’ve been through together, the way they have each other’s backs! It’s like the Marinka of this series for me, I cannot get enough of it ♥

Your arms have closed

I remember when I was young 
And I always thought that
The orthodontist meant it when
She said I was her favorite patient

I remember when I was in middle school
And went back to elementary to say hi
I was rather surprised that my teachers’ eyes
Did not light up in recognition

I guess I’ve always had a habit
Of feeling a little too important
A little too memorable
A little too special

After all I was not
Even remotely
On your mind as your
Hands were on her body

After all I eventually
Became a heinous part of
Your past you are trying
To pretend never happened

After all I changed from 
Someone you couldn’t take your eyes off of
To someone you could 
See right through

I remember seeing you at the party
Sleepless, grim, dark
I expected you to break out smiling
And open up your arms

Instead I was met
With a glance to the right
And a few swift steps
And the view of your back

When I was a child 
I always thought I was a little too important 
A little too memorable 
A little too special

When children are young
They always think 
All those around them
Mean what they say

I guess I never grew up
I guess I never realized 
I was not her favorite patient
And I was not yours forever

So if in Modern AU Bull hates supernatural horror movies….

how much would he dig How to Train Your Dragon.

“Bull you are a full grown man watching a children’s movie”

“Dorian. You don’t understand. Did you see the Gronckle?? DID YOU SEE IT?”

“Just last week you literally broke someone’s spine with one hand”

“That’s neither here nor there, baby. Now come sit down this is my favorite part”

*glare*. *sits* *disgruntled mumbling* *single tear when Stoick dies*

8

My JIB6 photo ops!
I was really heartbroken that Jared couldn’t be there, but I understand why he had to go home and rest up <3 Despite missing him like crazy, I had such an amazing time at the con - and such special moments with Mr. Jensen Ackles. My favorite part was after we did the picture where his hands are on my cheeks and we look into each other’s eyes, because (as soon as it was over) Jensen pulled me into a big, tight hug that lasted for several seconds - and I then totally melted into a puddle on the floor..! What a lovely, lovely man!
Having Dean Winchester protecting me against demons wasn’t bad either though ;)