this is roughly the same thing

anonymous asked:

Forgive me if you've been asked this already but at what moment do you think Clarke fell in love with Lexa, or realized she was in love with her? I believe Eliza had trouble answering this at a con (I think she said it was before the bow though) so I'm wondering what you think.

Mmm that’s hard to say, and honestly, that’s kinda what I love about it. Because you can’t always exactly pinpoint the moment you fall in love with someone, right? Maybe it’s a feeling that grows gradually but unstoppable, maybe it’s like a wave hitting you at once, it varies. And that’s how I think it was for Clarke.

The way I see it, it was sudden for her at first and then everything slowed down and it naturally developed. It wasn’t love yet in the beginning, but there was definitely a realization that she had feelings for Lexa. Just look at her face after storming out of Lexa’s tent in 2x14. 

Why else would she looked so bothered? If she had just been upset about their argument she would have had an angry face. Instead she looks like she’s literally trying to physically restrain her feelings, whatever they may be. She takes that deep, shaky breath in an attempt to collect herself because, what the hell just happened inside that tent? Did Lexa really just confess she has feelings for me? And why does it affect me so much? What am I feeling? This is what I think is going through her mind. And then of course we have the confirmation of this, when she gladly replies to Lexa’s kiss. Even after she rejects her, there is no indication of that being a definitive rejection. There is no feeling of “I’m sorry, but I don’t reciprocate.” Clarke is not ready for a relationship, and it’s right that she was honest with Lexa, but she rejects her in literally the softest way possible, AND leaves the door open for the future. Not yet. That means she already sees herself considering a relationship with Lexa in the future, after healing, when she’s finally ready. And look at how tender and somewhat tamely longing her gaze is even after she rejected Lexa.

She is definitely aware of her feelings for Lexa here. But then the betrayal happens and ah, they take 46 steps back.

Now, of course, Lexa’s betrayal causes Clarke to close herself off. Clarke is angry at Lexa, she’s angry at herself, she’s in pain, every other feeling pales in comparison. And obviously, so much of Clarke’s suffering is tied to what Lexa did, so it’s definitely not a surprise that romance is out of the question when they first meet again. Clarke’s pain is consuming her, she is definitely not thinking about whatever she and Lexa had. And yet…

This isn’t a romantic moment by any means. But we’re talking about Clarke realizing she loves Lexa, and I don’t think we can’t gloss over this moment. When I say that I don’t romanticize this scene, it’s because this is not a cute moment. This isn’t a “oh my God, she loves her!” moment, this moment is sad. It’s painful, it’s heartbreaking, but it’s so damn important. Clarke can’t kill Lexa here. How much easier would it be for her to shut her heart out entirely, to blame Lexa for everything and just kill her without feeling anything? I bet in that moment, a part of Clarke wants that. But Clarke feels, and she feels for Lexa. She has these feelings and they won’t go away, not even when she’s at her lowest. So yeah, not a romantic moment, but definitely essential to understand Clarke’s complicated feelings for Lexa.

After the bow, Clarke is a little more trusting towards Lexa, but she’s definitely still closed off, she’s not ready to expose her heart yet. And we get to the “I’m doing it for my people” episode, 3x04. Right from the very beginning, Clarke spends the entire episode trying to find a way to keep Lexa safe, to protect her. But every single time she voices her concerns to Lexa or hell, even Titus, her preoccupation feels far more personal than political. She’s worried, she’s agitated, she even seems angry that Lexa won’t listen to her and step away from the duel. It’s a crescendo of apprehension and frustration and anxiousness as every single one of Clarke’s attempts fails, crescendo that culminates in an emotional explosion.

The second gif is particularly telling. Titus interrupts them, the moment is gone and Clarke finds herself having to face what just happened. Look at her face, at how she looks away from Lexa and sucks a breath through her teeth. She’s restraining her feelings, but she’s a little too late this time. And it’s not only Lexa who is shaken by Clarke’s emotional outburst, it’s Clarke herself too. She doesn’t catch herself in time and now she can’t pretend with herself that those feelings aren’t there. I think this is when the true first “shift” after the betrayal happens. Clarke wants to keep Lexa at arm’s length but Lexa might very well die that same day and, despite any resolution she had, the thought terrifies Clarke. And she’s so scared that she’s never going to see Lexa again that…

I could write an essay on all the emotions Clarke experiences before and throughout and at the end of Lexa’s duel, but the gist of it is that during this tense moment, with Lexa’s life on the line, she can’t bring herself to hide her feelings. It’s all there, on her face. 

Only when things settle down she is able to collect herself again. Lexa comes visit her that night and we see Clarke pull her walls up again. “I was just doing what was right for my people.” BUT! Even if Clarke is not ready to open up her heart again, that scene is infused with intimacy. Even Clarke’s “rejection” is filled with emotion.

Clarke is the opposite of cold here. The way I see it, she is pulling away because she’s realizing she’s close to giving in, but she’s not yet ready for that. It’s so clear that here Lexa is talking about what happened at Mount Weather too, this is another quiet apology that Clarke obviously recognizes. If she went with her feelings, Clarke would have to admit that she does understand Lexa, that in her heart maybe she’s already forgiven her. But in that moment it’s too overwhelming, so she looks away and avoids the conversation, avoids Lexa’s gaze, avoids having to focus on her feelings.

She literally keeps having to look away because things get too intense but at the same time there’s a tenderness in her eyes that she can’t hide. And once Lexa is gone and she can breathe… bam

All the feelings she restrained, everything she tried to hide merely minutes ago hits her full force. I said I think Clarke’s love for Lexa developed gradually, naturally, but if I had to pick a specific moment and say that’s when Clarke realized she’s in love with Lexa, it would be this one.

By the time we get to 3x06, I do believe Clarke knows and has accepted she is in love with Lexa, but she’s still struggling to admit it out loud, especially to Lexa. That episode happens roughly 7-10 days after the events of Hakeldama, and when we see Clarke and Lexa again, they are closer than ever. There is a sense of intimacy, of almost domesticity between them. They are comfortable with each other’s presence. There’s not really a reason for them being in the same room in that scene: Lexa fell asleep while reading and Clarke is drawing (there are other sheets in her folder, which makes me think she was drawing other things before focusing on Lexa). They don’t have to talk or interact, they simply are together.

When Lexa wakes up from the nightmare, Clarke doesn’t hesitate to jump next to her and comfort her, with soothing touches and calming, reassuring words. And then we get to the moment Lexa notices the drawing. A lot has been said about Lexa’s face, but instead look at Clarke’s.

This is the exact opposite of what I was talking about in 3x04. Lexa sees the drawing and is taken aback. That she doesn’t know whether she should hope for anything is another story, but the look she gives Clarke is very telling. And Clarke doesn’t avoid it. Yes, her first instinct is to play it off as something meaningless. “Uh, that’s not- it’s not finished yet.” But then Lexa looks at her, confused, surprised, a tiny bit hopeful, and Clarke meets her gaze and they just stare at each other. Look at that little pause she does before lifting her eyes. That’s when she chooses not to hide. As I said, I think that here Clarke has come to terms with her feelings for Lexa, but here for the first time, she doesn’t hide them from Lexa. Her look is just as telling as Lexa’s. They aren’t saying a word and this is one of their most honest, important conversations. Clarke is silent, but her eyes are speaking, her untold feelings are there, and maybe letting Lexa know isn’t so unfathomable anymore. Maybe, maybe Clarke this is the closest Clarke has been to being ready.

So this is what i think. The way I see it, it’s tricky and complicated and simply beautiful.

hulahoopingingthesand  asked:

Can you rec any Sterek fics with insecure Stiles? I seem to be in the mood for them. Thanks!

This rec list is all over the place, with canon compliant fics, AUs, A/B/O dynamics, everything! Hope you enjoy!

INSECURE STILES

We Prefer Good Love to Gold by i_am_girlfriday

This week on Millionaire Matchmaker: Supernatural Edition - Derek Hale, a thirty-year-old millionaire venture capitalist and beta werewolf, finally gives into his sisters’ pressures to start dating again and reluctantly agrees to use the services of a supernatural matchmaker. Stiles Stilinski, at age twenty-five, just sold his start-up to Google for undisclosed millions, and ends up on a reality dating show when his true alpha best friend tries to help him get over his broken heart.

The last thing anyone expects is for the two eligible bachelors to fall in love with each other behind the scenes.


Worst Case Scenario by SpiritsFlame

Stiles is good at compartmentalizing bad news. It’s partly a learned behaviour, and partly because of his well practiced coping technique. It may not be the most emotionally healthy thing to do, but it gets him through the day.


He Blinded Me With Library Science by mklutz

Stiles blinks. “Right, the reading room. Do you have your, uh …library card?” he asks. He’s never been able to make that sound normal and not vaguely dirty when he actually means wand.


Keep reading

anonymous asked:

My favorite thing about that terrible quote about "rural white people have no culture" is it literally says white Americans don't have special wedding dresses when like... we have a style and color of wedding dress that is so culturally mandatory that they all look roughly the same and virtually every women has to wear it when she gets married and it's treated as so sacred that mothers sometimes pass it down to their daughters and you can never ever wear that dress except on your wedding day.

yeahh like the fact that the author of that quote is a white man who says he was born in a rural ohio town makes it really transparent that he was speaking from a “fish dont know water” angle

ACOMAF Part 1: The House of Beasts Chapters 1-13 (Rhys POV)

Chapters 1-4: Return from UtM to Feyre’s Wedding Panic Attack
Chapter 5: Feyre’s Wedding & Arrival in the Night Court
Chapter 6: Learning to Read
Chapter 7: Returning Feyre to the Spring Court
Chapters 8-10: The Next Three Weeks & Retrieving Feyre for Her Second Trip
Chapter 11: Feyre’s Second Night Court Visit
Chapters 12-13: Rescuing Feyre from the Spring Court

I did a thing. We’ll see if I can do more before ACOWAR comes out. Below is Chapters 1-4 of ACOMAF in Rhys’s POV and above are the links to those same chapters plus the rest on AO3. Hope ya like!

Summary: Roughly Chapters 1-4 of ACOMAF from Rhys’s POV. It’s mostly a focus on the last two weeks before Feyre gets married with summation thrown in on how his time has been since leaving UtM. Includes her nightmare that opens the book and some lovely chatting with Morrigan the day of Feyre’s wedding.

Hello Feyre Darling

The mountains of the Illyrian Steppes wrought a chill through my bones I hadn’t felt in years.

We flew for most of the day, listening to wherever the shadows at my brother’s back directed us, until at last the sun began to set and we landed in a small clearing between the trees.

They were close. Near enough to sent them on the tendrils of wind that carried their blood and sweat through the heavy pine of the woods. Since my return, I’d lost count of the number of rogue Illyrian war bands I’d had to hunt down and confront. And that wasn’t counting the number Cassian and Azriel had taken care of in my absence.

Today’s hunt felt restless. The outcome had been decided the moment we left the Steppes. These primal encounters never changed even if I spent the hours flying faster towards them hoping they would.

A confrontation. An offering of second chances. Bow down and obey - or pay the debt they owed for the blood they’d spilt, the debt for using fifty years of freedom to push the boundaries however they pleased.

The Night Court would need every drop in the coming weeks that it could spare. Petty disagreements over territory, among other things, wasn’t something I could deal with in the middle of a shift that sought to overthrow the entirety of Prythian.

And once Illyrian alliances shifted, they rarely shifted back.

So in blood, they usually ended.

We threaded through the trees, Cassian and Azriel silently stalking several paces out on either side of me until we hit the gap where the band made camp. It was a small legion, perhaps a dozen or so with their chosen lord in the center. An exquisite gash ran down the center of his cheek. No doubt he had been forced to earn his rank, had likely volunteered for the blood bath.

I wondered what they had done with the bodies, if they’d bothered to bury them properly in Illyrian fashion or had left them to rot in the snow.

Their heads turned in our direction as we neared close enough for them to catch our scent, but by then it was already too late. I held their minds steady from the grip of my power long before the three of us cleared the trees lining the perimeter of their camp.

My brothers strode quietly out from the trees, the swords they’d been gifted at the Blood Rite brandished in their hands in an offensive gesture, ready to strike at a moment’s signal from me.

Slowly, I narrowed my eyes on the newly elected lord and approached, tendrils of darkness trailing in my wake, my wings stretched out wide enough at my back to send a jolt of fear down even the toughest Illyrian’s back.

“Do I need to bother asking?”

My voice was flat, hardly even a question as the lord looked me over once and spat directly at my feet. “Whore,” he cursed and internally, I savored the feel of my mental claws dragging through his mind, undoing every last piece of who he was and would ever become before I let his body fall limp and ragged to the snow. I didn’t even wait. Little impulses of pain trembled along his skin and muscles in those last seconds before he gave up and was no more.

All round me, the forest rang silent save for the bitter, cold wind howling my sins in my ears.

Red splattered in harsh contrast against the snow at my feet, large sloppy drops dripping from Truth-Teller’s blade.

Azriel looked stoically at me as if he hadn’t just shed the blood of a half-dozen men he’d once shared camp with. I often wondered how he managed to lock that darkness away so well.

Slowly, he lifted a brow as snow crunched between Cassian’s heavy boots on my other side.

“Rhys?” Cassian said, dragging my attention down to my hands. They were shaking in a near violent manner.

Whore.

“Let’s go.”

“Rhys-”

I grabbed both their hands and winnowed on the spot before they could say another word.

I did not join them at the House of Wind that night for dinner.


There was blood everywhere.

All over the three young fae hooded and kneeling on the unforgiving marble floor, the dagger I watched fall clattering to that same ground, and most especially all over her.

Feyre stood reaching with a trembling hand for the second dagger covered in blood. Her clothes were soaked from merely one kill that shouldn’t have garnered that much evidence of her deeds. It carried onto her hands - her poor, stuttering hands that plunged themselves upon the fae woman singing herself into death’s waiting arms.

Amarantha sat poised on the throne calling Feyre on with praise. It felt disgustingly wrong.

Feyre pulled the third dagger and I knew what to expect as the veil was to be lifted on the final victim. Tamlin would be waiting and then our fate would be in the hands of this small human girl none of us knew. I felt like I was going to be sick even as Feyre questioned whether or not she could go through with one more murder - just one more murder, and we would all be free. Such a steep price to pay for her.

The hood lifted. Silence fell.

The blood stood out in stark relief against the resounding quiet of the room.

Feyre knelt before the third victim - before herself, her ears turned up into two stiff points, her skin smooth and blended into a soft perfection only my own breed possessed. And her body, which had become so long and elegant with its new fae gifted powers, sat strongly before her, beseeching her move forward.

And that’s when I knew where I was.

I saw Amarantha up on her throne because I saw her from Feyre’s eyes and not my own place on the dias where I should have been. This was nothing new. We’d been inside this prison countless times before and always we failed to get out alive.

Murderer.

The words chanted inside Feyre’s mind as a flurry of self-loathing and hopelessness I only ever felt inside myself welled up beneath her skin.

Butcher.

She angled the dagger at herself and my lungs screamed inside of me to stop her as I felt her anticipate the relief that blade could give her. No, no, never -

Monster.

A relief she welcomed, craved even. It was horrifying to watch, to feel.

Liar.

And it killed me to think she could see herself that way, in any way other than the determined, resourceful woman I’d met Under the Mountain who had saved us all and lost herself in the process.

“Feyre!” I screamed inside her mind, as violently and brutally as I once had to stop Amarantha from attacking her.

Deceiver.

But it was too late.

Feyre thrusted the knife into her own chest and I watched as my mate willingly committed suicide before my own eyes. Somehow, it was a thousand times worse than hearing her neck snap against her will.

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Oh boy, here’s the Cartoon Network schedule for Monday, April 10 to Sunday, April 16.

So yeah. Two day Teen Titans Go! marathon. That’s a thing. A lot of airings of Island Adventure too because there’s nothing kids love more than watching the same thing CN has aired 30 times before 9 more times.

Give me a break, CN.

Give me a fucking break.

New episodes this week:

  • Ben 10 - Series premiere and 3 more episodes Monday at 5:00p, 1 new episode Tues-Thurs at 5:00p
  • We Bare Bears - Mon-Thurs at 7:00p
  • Teen Titans Go! - Friday at 6:00p

Top 3 shows:

  1. Teen Titans Go! - 176 - 62%
  2. The Amazing World of Gumball - 40 - 14%
  3. Ben 10 - 24 - 8%

The top 3 shows are roughly 84% of the schedule.

lazulisong  asked:

top five fantasies victor had about yuri that yuri accidentally shattered

1. yuuri katsuki: international man of mystery

yuuri katsuki is not an international man of mystery.  he is not an assassin, or a spy, which victor had begun to suspect by the time he first arrived in hasetsu.  and that was a shame, because victor thought he could only be seduced that thoroughly by spies, and being an assassin would explain why he never called once, vanished into thin air, never to be seen again, probably not having existed at all.  victor scours his room for clues while yuuri is in the bath, but instead of coming up with a secret weapons cache, all he finds is a hastily stashed collections of posters featuring himself.  yuuri katsuki is definitely not an international man of mystery.

however, he is the most beautiful skater victor’s ever seen in his life.  he lets music possess him, and when he smiles it sets victor’s whole body on fire because he feels like he earned it.  yuuri katsuki is beautifully, wonderfully ordinary.  he likes bad hip-hop, milk-flavored candies and he still reads comic books.  when he speaks, he’s painfully sincere, more than victor’s ever been about anything in his entire life.  he’s completely see-through, once you know where to look.  and victor likes that even more. 

2. yuuri katsuki is not a classy broad

when victor dreams of yuuri katsuki after the grand prix banquet, he anticipates a man more cultured.  which is stupid, because yuuri was a mess the night of the grand prix banquet, but victor had seen him dance, and he thought only a man of refined tastes and pleasures can move so delicately when hammered, and so when he would write dream dates in his dream date diary he would write about taking yuuri to staraya tamozhnya or percoso or EM after a night at the opera, where victor would have blown yuuri thoroughly during an act of carmen in a private box.  they would order ten course meals the size of their palms and yuuri would dissect the the wine menu and demand to see the sommelier.  he would let victor spoon feed him sweetbreads and sea urchin and shark fin soup, close his eyes and moan.

on the way back from cup of china, they stay overnight in nagasaki before heading back to hasetsu.  the restaurant they go to was secretly booked two months in advance, because if victor hadn’t kissed him by now, he was setting himself a deadline.  the menu is a 14-course pre fix that thematically incorporates black walnuts.  

yuuri orders the house red for 600 yen on happy hour.  he wears the same terrible suit with the same awful tie he’s worn everywhere since victor’s known him.  he does not like black walnuts.  victor eats both of their portions.

which is fine, but it’s mildly disappointing.  but on the way back, yuuri’s stomach growls, and victor feels so dumb about the whole thing until they pass by a small supermarket in a mall by the hotel, and yuuri tugs him by the hand inside without saying a word.  he quietly picks out ingredients that amount to 1000 yen altogether, roughly 39,000 less than victor spent on dinner, and takes them back to the hotel.  then he’s almost mad about it.  they get back to the hotel and victor feels a Mood coming on, but then he looks at yuuri who is smiling shy to himself.

“i did this a lot in college,” he says, pouring water from the sink into a cup of noodles.  he’s got the hotel’s iron upside down on the vanity and is cooking an egg on it.  

“what,” victor says.

“you’ll see,” yuuri replies.  

three minutes later, victor has the best meal in his life, second to only yuuri’s mother’s katsudon. 

3. yuuri katsuki doesn’t have a foot thing

“what do you mean you don’t have a foot thing?” victor says confused. “everyone has a feet thing.”

“everyone does not have a foot thing, victor,” yuuri says, rolling his eyes.  he wiggles his toes at victor anyway, feet in the air.  “now c’mere.”

he lets victor fuck his feet anyway.  

4. yuuri katsuki is not afraid of ghosts

“victor, what did you expect?” yuuri asks after the movie. 

victor had expected to have yuuri curl up under his arm.  victor had expected yuuri to hide his face during the scary parts and breathe against his chest, tuck his forehead in the curve of victor’s neck.  instead, victor almost threw his drink at the screen and screamed yelled no less than six times.  

“i thought you would be scared,” victor admits.  the ghost girl made him cry.  

“victor, i’m japanese,” yuuri says.  

5. yuuri katsuki had an awkward phase

yuuri freaks out when he finds a video of an old performance on the internet, and immediately contacts the person who uploaded it to get it removed.  

victor just sees part of the costume over his shoulder and stills.  “yuuri.  is that you?”

yuuri turns around, wide-eyed, trying to hide the screen behind his back. “no!  definitely not me!  just some–some weird kid!”

“when was that taken?” he hadn’t seen it in his first yuuri katsuki youtube fest 2014.  or his second, two months later.  or his third, fourth, or fifth for that matter.  if someone out on the internet had more videos, he needed to know who it was.

“never,” yuuri says.

“yuuri.” victor frowns at him, and when that doesn’t work, tries puppy dog eyes.

“my freshman year of college,” yuuri admits.  “it was–college in america was weird.  i let go for a little bit.”

“like you overate?” victor asks.  he’s heard from other skaters in juniors who left the sport for school in the states–they called it the “freshman fifteen.”

“no, like i,” yuuri says, stops, looks away.  “i may have spent an entire month on ecstacy.”

“what,” victor says.

“i, i, i liked to party?  for awhile, anyway, and it was fun, and i lost control, and anyway, it was just for awhile, but i was still listening to a lot of terrible music by the time i started working on the first free skate for my senior debut, and–”

victor’s snuck around him as he’s been shamefully staring away, and he starts laughing.  “are you kidding?  you skated to darude’s sandstorm? we have to watch this.”

yuuri tackles victor straight into the table, breaking the laptop.  it is three more days before victor can finally watch the video in peace, hiding in the bathroom with his cellphone, before he contacts the guy to ask if there are more.

Special Instructions (1/?)

Summary: Drunk Emma really likes pizza. She also really happens to like the cute delivery guy who seems content to carry out all of her wishes via the “Special Instructions” box on the website.  (AO3)
Rating: M (eventually)
Word Count: ~1700

This has been burning a hole on my desktop for a couple months now and I just really felt like if I didn’t start posting it would probably never get finished… I’m a couple chapters in with the writing but I think this is going to end up being like between 10 and 15 chapters, all roughly the same length if I can pull it. We’ll see how that goes. Anyway, this was gonna just be like a cheesy smut fic originally but I apparently like to overthink things and it became slightly cuter of an idea…

@stubble-sandwich THANKS FOR LETTING ME GUSH ABOUT THIS STUPID IDEA WITH YOU. Look at me, finally posting the fuckin pizza guy au… christ…

Special instructions: pls make smiley face with pepperoni, i could use something happy right now

She’d typically have left the box blank but Emma was currently full of self-pity and a little too drunk to really care how she appeared to the rest of the world.

Two years she’d spent with Walsh. Two years of warm embraces and whispered I love you’s and sweet kisses and integrating him into her close-knit group of friends despite some heavy resistance – especially from David; she reminded herself to give her brother a hug later for trying – and for what? 

For him to just “reconnect” with his ex at what was supposed to be their engagement party?

“I’m so sorry, Em. I never meant to hurt you like this. It just… happened. I can’t help how I feel.”

She scoffed in disgust. What an asshole. A total prick.

She finished off her fifth – sixth? – bottle of beer and popped open another. Maybe after another few she’d forget the sight of him with his tongue down that other woman’s throat. Maybe she’d forget the shock and guilt on his face when she’d dropped her glass of champagne at seeing them together, stunned to see her betrothed blatantly cheating on her by the bathrooms while their party guests mulled about in the main room, completely clueless.

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Horny Toad / Horned Lizard

I have to say the strangest creature I’ve ever come across in the Mojave is a pretty innocent looking thing. 

There are over a dozen sub species but they are all about the same size and roughly the same shape. Some have very prominent horn structures while others have smaller spikes. 

They don’t get too much bigger than the size of a human hand and they typically spend their days eating ants and other small insects. 

Well, that’s pretty normal for a lizard. It’s even down right cute in a pocket dragon type of way. So why is it the strangest? Well… my friends… you see the Horny Toad has a defense mechanism unlike any other that I know of. When it’s threatened by say a raven, coyote or snake it does… well… here I’ll show you. 

It shoots out caustic blood from it’s eyes. What you see above is one hundred percent real. The Horny Toad can build up the pressure in blood vessels in its eyes so much that they rupture and the pressurized blood come bursting out. Not only does it squirt several inches and up to and over a foot but it contains compounds similar to formic acid which is theorized it gets from eating vast quantities of ants and keeping the particles of the acid in it’s bloodstream. Oh and if that was not strange enough for you it can shoot out blood any direction it wants from it’s eye. 

This only temporarily blinds the Horny Toad in the one eye until the blood is cleared away and then it’s ready to do it again later on after it replenishes the blood. 

So to recap. 

Desert pocket dragon squirts caustic blood from eyes when threatened. 

Color Adjusting for POC with PSDs Made for White People

Since there aren’t half as many PSDs or coloring tutorials designed for POC, I figured a better way is to show people how to adjust the PSDs or techniques they already have on hand instead.

Things we will look at:

  1. How to recognize white washed POC**
  2. How to fix it

I’ve divided it into 3 parts under the cut :D

**This is also for people who reblog things and want to know what is and isn’t white washing

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hello! I enjoy your art and I have a question. So how do you do Sonic and his gang's anatomy? I have quite a tough time trying to master it.

Glad you enjoy my art!

My tip in regard to Sonic and friend’s anatomy… is it’s not… really ‘anatomy’ so much. It’s super cartoony and you’d be hard pressed to go “ah, here’s the ribcage, here’s the pelvis”, etc. I mean, knowing those things is a very good thing for drawing in general, but when it comes to Sonic characters it’s not really as helpful as thinking of them as a collection of shapes.

So, ‘think of them as a collection of shapes’ is my first bit of advice.

Let’s break down a few characters.

Here’s a small selection of character images I pulled off google. It’s a mix of 2D and 3D because I think it’s important to be able to identify the shapes in either case. Can you see the shapes that make up each character’s head and body?

Sonic heads are easy. With very, very few exceptions, they’re almost always perfect circles. Tails and Marine are the biggest example of Sonic characters who do -not- have circles for heads- their heads are instead a rounded, boxy shape.

As for bodies, it’s all just a collection of beans for guys and peanuts for girls. If you remember this, you can draw any ‘basic’ Sonic character.

I don’t have a lot to say about the limbs of Sonic characters because there isn’t much to them. Sonic and his friends are all based on the old concept of ‘rubber-hose’ cartoon characters, like Mickey Mouse or Felix the cat. That means their limbs are basically thick noodles or 'tubes’. With the exception of Sonic Boom’s art style, Sonic characters do not actually have elbows or knees. Notice on the Amy picture when she bends her arms and legs it’s not actually forming an 'elbow’. The tube is just bending.

There is one thing to mention though- the length of Sonic character’s arms. Compared to the proportion of humans, Sonic characters have arms and legs that are roughly the same length. That means if they’re standing completely straight and casually, the tips of their fingers land somewhere near their ankles, compared to somewhere around the hip on a human.

Lazy Day

Jeff Hardy/OC- The reader doesn’t want to get out of bed and tries to persuade Jeff to stay with her. She thinks she did a good job.

Warnings: other than smut, theres no warnings. Like nothing kinky which is a little sad.

@ittybittywriter @the-geekgoddes @vebner37 @alexahood21 @alexispoo @kinkymaminicole @crowleysqueenofhell @ambrosegirlforever


“BABY.” I heard Jeff yelling at me from the kitchen. I rolled over on our bed to get to his side. I huffed at the coldness of it and closed my eyes. “BABY.” Jeff yelled again when I didn’t answer him.

“What?” I yelled back at him with a high pitch whine. I looked at the clock and saw that it was 9:15 and groaned. I closed my eyes to try to fall back to sleep needing just a few more hours to not be grumpy. I heard light footsteps and opened my eyes to see Jeff leaning against the door frame smiling at me, “So early.” I mumbled as Jeff slowly walked towards the bed.

“I would get back in bed but you’re on my side.” Jeff said as he bent down and kissed my forehead.

I glared up at Jeff and rolled my eyes. Jeff chuckled and pushed my hips to make me roll onto my back, “No I don’t want to move.” I threw my arms down on the bed trying to take up all the room. Jeff kneeled onto the bed putting his arms under me and pushed me onto my side, “Nooooo.” I dragged out the o’s as Jeff pulled the covers off of me and wrapped himself in them before flopping down on the bed next to me.

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Road Trip - pt.1 (M)

Genre: S M U T

Length: 1,200+ words

Kink(s): exhibitionism, Daddy kink 

Originally posted by badgizibe888

Since it was nearing the end of winter, and though it was still a tad cold out the trees were starting to regain the leaves they had lost during autumn. Both you and your group of friends loved this weather; the sky was still gloomy and grey, the chilly wind felt refreshing against your skin and the fresh air was practically rejuvenating. 

For a while now you and the guys had been planning on taking your first roadtrip together and booking a whole week’s stay at this lovely cabin that was about 10 hours away. Due to their almost inhumane freaking work schedules y’all always would put it off- another time..or..there’s always next time- you guys would say. 

Though it took two years, y’all were finally going. Their schedules were clear for the next two weeks, and you weren’t doing anything special or important since you worked from home and were technically your own boss.

The van was packed, everyone was dressed appropriately and despite how sluggish everyone seemed to feel, y’all wasted no time at all and took off- leaving all the stresses of work behind… for a little while at least. 

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Could we all be surprised and Lotor winds up being enamoured with Pidge?

A lot of people are assuming that Lotor is going to either beeline romantically for either Allura (no surprise due to the history of the series), Keith (Rival turned Romance and Keith helped him) or Lance (due to issues and people want angst). But what if that’s way off the mark? What if the one that Lotor winds up wanting to capture and becomes obsessed with, is none other then Pidge. 

Okay here me out here. We know that Katie is desperately looking for her brother and father, and now with Shiro missing that one small glimmer of hope connecting them to her has vanished with him. Shiro was one of the few that really knew just how much Matt means to Katie and the connection that they shared. It’s why he keeps encouraging her through out the story. Katie hides a lot of her own issues under the guise of logic and helping out the others, and while Keith and Lance and even Hunk struggle with their own issues (betting anything we’ll get more on Hunk’s in season three and four), they don’t always notice Katie’s problems. 

Enter Lotor, who has family issues as well. His father may or may not love him, he may or may not have been trapped inside the belly of a beast (probably trying to get the same things that Keith and Hunk were after) and there’s also the fact that his coloring is very much like the original Lotor’s indicating that he’s probably half Altean. 

So here we have Katie who has not only just got some info on her brother she may have to pause the search for him in order to find Shiro. Now given that we know her brother was rescued by the rebels this means that she’s going to want to go after the rebels to get to her brother. 

Now here’s the cool thing to note about Lotor, he is the sort of person that would be willing to work with Katie to find Matt. If Lotor keeps parts of his old personality from both Go Lion, original Voltron and Voltron Force, then he’ll probably see the easy target in Pidge over say Lance or Keith. Again keep in mind that Pidge is willing to do just about anything to find her brother and she nearly caused Lance and Shiro to get caught because of her looking up info while she should have been paying attention. Now Lance is easy to manipulate, but Pidge, oh Pidge would be far easier to work with. For Lotor it’s not about who’s easy to play with, it’s who is going to benefit him the most, and while Lance certainly could become a useful pawn in all of this…it’s Pidge that has the most knowledge to gain from. 

Katie is a genius, this much has been shown. Not only did she manage to help Coran fix the ship, but she’s also invented things that actually benefit the Lion’s as a whole. She’s able to figure out the tech of the Galra and probably could reverse engineer some of the items that they built and vice versa as she’s built things to protect and help the Lions. It’s an easy thing to see Lotor seeing her as one of the link pins to the whole team. 

Let’s take a quick look at something short here. When the Stranger takes the bag of  scaultrite he knows what he’s taking there. This to me at least indicates that Lotor is probably going to be more science minded then his past incarnations. Someone who will be more tech savvy then just a fighter and a flirt. This would put Pidge right up his alley, someone who can help him build things. Lotor is also good at playing up being a decent person. It’s not too hard to picture him seeing Katie’s weak spot and going for it. 

So where would that leave us in that case. Let’s for a moment hypothesise a possibility for season 3. Katie now has info on her  brother and wants to go looking for him but the team is more determined to find Shiro. Something she wants to too, but Keith, still getting used to the leader role, makes the mistake of acting like finding Matt is less of a priority to him (not totally true as Keith has shown to care a lot for Pidge) and upsets her. Right now they have Lotor captured for some reason (either he’s playing a trap or they caught him or something of the like) and she goes to check on the cell holding him. During this time he puts into her head the idea that he can help her find her brother if she lets him out. 

Of course Pidge refuses to, at first, leading up to a situation where she decides, against better judgement, to take Lotor with her to find Matt. He claims to really be with the rebels and offers a hand to her. The two have a bit of an adventure as they try to track down the rebels to get to matt. During this time it’s pretty easy to see a more tech savvy Lotor getting interested in Pidge as a whole and seeing Katie as someone that could be a good person to have on his side. Eventually they make it to the “rebel” location and Lotor turns on her saying that he respects her and wants her to join his group. Thankfully the teams followed them and they fight him off, Lotor getting away but now interested in Pidge as a possible future partner in all this. 

it’s a reasonable option seeing that he may find her attractive as well, and I wouldn’t put it past this team for subverting things by having him go for the one character that probably wouldn’t seem as attractive to someone as “Pretty” as Lotor. Losing her to the team, someone who he thinks he bonded with, would be something that would make him obsessed with her, more so then the others. That’s why I’m thinking that we may see that in this series over say Lance or Keith. 

Edit: Noticed I’m getting one or two comments about the age factor on this so a few things of note that is important about this post. 

1. Yes, Katie is a teenager between early teens (14/15) to Mid teens (16/17), and the likely hood is that she’s the same age as Allura in the original Voltron (16 years old) due to the fact that the Garrison would not allow anyone under the age of 15 to run the simulation, since they would not have learned enough by the age of 14 to fly. So I’m assuming that she’s about 16 years old as of this time. 

2. We do not know the age of Prince Lotor at all. Given the situation right now regarding his father (who I want to actually write a post about how the Galra Emperor has lived so long) and Haggar’s reaction to things I would think that Lotor is a newer development. Allura doesn’t mention him at all when the series started, and that at least indicates that he was born at a later point in time. Now given the history of Lotor (or at least the original Sincline -more on him in another post) we can assume that if his history stays roughly the same this would mean that he would be about the same age as Keith (16 to 17, 18 at the oldest) which would then put the whole issue of age as moot since he’s a teenager along with Pidge. 

3. And most important, this post wasn’t to be taken seriously. With all the shipping wars going on and the sudden infusion of fans jumping on a bandwagon that doesn’t yet exist (Lotor x anyone) I just figured it would be amusing to put out the most outrageous ship I could think of as a humorous thing within the context of the series, since Pidge only seems to be interested in tech and geeking out over science. 

So there you have it. Hope this clears some things up for people reading this post. 

Edit two: The more I think about it, Lotor was at the destroyed home of the Galra (if my theory is right on that) and he needed the same stuff as Keith and Hunk to make lenses for something, meaning that he probably is scientific minded like Haggar. Meaning that, yeah they could easily get along if they end up allies. :)

Trappist-1 Nasa announcement: We could find alien life within 10 years on newly discovered planets

Seven potentially habitable exoplanets have been discovered in a solar system 40 light years away and, should it exist, we could find evidence of alien life within the next decade. Nasa hosted a press conference on 22 February to reveal the findings of the new study which was a multinational collaboration between top space scientists.

Trappist-1 exoplanets and alien life: 5 things you need to know about the Nasa announcement

Atmospheric rivers snake through dangerous and extreme storms

The planets orbit the ultra-cool dwarf star TRAPPIST-1. While three planets had previously been identified within the solar system, further monitoring revealed the presence of four more exoplanets. Through these observations, scientists were able to calculate their masses – showing they are roughly Earth-sized and are probably rocky.

Researchers published their findings in the journal Nature. Study author Michael Gillon said: “This is the first time so many planets of this kind are found around the same star. They form a very compact system – they are very close to each other and very close to the star – reminiscent of the moons around Jupiter. The star is so small and cold that the seven planets are temperate, which means they could have some liquid water hosting life on the surface.”

Mysterious Tully Monster was a weird creature but not a fish

What is even more exciting is that three of the planets sit within the star’s habitable zone. This is the region where it would be neither too hot nor too cold for liquid water to be a constant feature. Because of the nature of the star and the solar system, researchers – with current technology – will be able to study the climate and chemical composition of the atmospheres of the seven planets.

Six biodiversity hotspots claimed to be on brink of ecosystem collapse

Amaury Triaud, another author on the study, explained: “The first stage we are doing is a reconnaissance stage to rule out the planets that have a large hydrogen envelope. This is to make sure they are indeed Earth-like. This will be followed by detailed observations to study the climate and eventually from the chemical formation to try to find out if there is life there. We can expect that within a few years we will know a lot more about these planets and we hope, if there is life there, maybe within a decade.”

The Trappist-1 solar system

Unlike our solar system, the planets orbiting Trappist-1 are very close to their star. Indeed, if they were in our system, they would all be found closer to the Sun than Mercury. However, because the star is far cooler than the Sun, it produces far less energy. This means that for liquid water to exist, planets need to be closer to the star.

All of the planets are tidally locked, meaning one side of a planet is always facing the star, while the other is always facing away (so it is either perpetual daytime or night-time). This is not necessarily a bad thing for the potential for alien life, Gillon said. “They would still be able to efficiently transport heat from the day side to the night side. So you have a source. Night is colder but not so cold that it would make the atmosphere collapse and be impossible for habitability. It’s not catastrophic for life.”

Ultra-cool dwarf stars like Trappist-1 release energy at a far lower rate than stars like our Sun. Scientists estimate it is probably older than half a billion years old. It burns hydrogen so slowly that it will live for around another 100 trillion years.

Which planets are best suited for life?

The three planets the team are most hopeful about in terms of their habitability are Trappis 1e, f and g. “Theoretically you could have liquid water on the seven planets, but three are in the habitable zone – which means with our climate modelling, these planets could have liquid water all over the surface,” Gillion said. “These three are more likely to have liquid water because the temperature is fine. It doesn’t mean they have liquid water. It will really depend on the atmospheric properties. But we will be able to study them in detail.”

Triaud added: “My take is that Trappist 1f is likely the more interesting one. It’s about the size of Earth, is a bit cooler but with the right atmosphere and of greenhouse gasses, the temperature should be fine. This is a very speculative question [though]. We don’t know how life emerges. If life emerges in an ocean and there is an ocean there I don’t see a problem. Water can shield from any radiation. If life is borne elsewhere maybe the conditions are different.”

Why is this system our best bet at finding life?

The atmospheres of the planets around Trappist 1 can be studied with existing technology. This means that in the very near future, researchers will be able to find out if any have conditions suitable to hosting life. If we do find conditions similar to what we have on Earth, the team say this would mean we could be 99% confident of the discovery of alien life.

Triaud said: “We’ve made a crucial step towards finding if there is life out there. I don’t think any time before we’ve had the right planets to find out if there was. Here, if life managed to thrive and releases gasses similar to that what we have on earth, then we will know. Before it was indications, now we have the right target.”

Gillion continued: “This is not in a few decades that we can do this. We are doing this now. People will get more and more news about this system in the coming months and years. The story is just beginning.”

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Dean vs Essential Oils

Originally posted by yourfavoritedirector

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1124

A/N: So basically my headcanon, is when Dean is introduced to anything self care related he automatically hates it. At least outwardly. He does indeed find merit in these things and finds he can’t live without them. When “busted” he becomes defensive (i.e. the vegetable water S12), but depending on who he may admit that he does indeed enjoy whatever it is.  *Note this is unbeta’d* As always feedback is encouraged, helpful, and definitely wanted!

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Normal Horoscope:

Aries: The Green Mother has not stopped singing. Hear her lullabies in the cars passing in the night. 

Taurus: Sleep is how our bodies get us out of the way for our mind to do some crazy shit.

Gemini: Drinking a glass of chemically pure water would tear the trace metals out of your mouth and neck. Purity is dangerous. Remember this.

Cancer: The daughters of the hunt watch over your home. Rest, knowing you are protected. Peace of mind is a luxury these days.

Leo: Something moves soundlessly through your neighborhood, avoiding the streetlights. Check on your pets.

Virgo: Some people only feel comfortable enough to be themselves when behind a mask. Others may hide shame. It is not our business to ask.

Libra: The likelihood of you being killed by a terrorist is roughly the same as being struck by lightning while being eaten by a shark. One of these is an unquestionably better story.

Scorpio: Life is too short not to cross-dress and commit petty crimes.

Ophiuchus: Aloe vera is excellent for burns, but not that kind.

Sagittarius: You don’t really battle with depression, its more like a staring contest that lasts nine years. Medication is only the beginning of therapy.

Capricorn: You carry a physical reminder with you. Meaning does not fade, it flows from one thing to the next. The wheel turns.

Aquarius: Thankless work is the best kind of work. Its proof you’re a nice person. 

Pisces: Do not be afraid. Failure is usually way more fun and a much better story. Who knows? You might actually succeed. 

the posh boy solution

hi hello welcome to the second part of this little piece

part one: the posh boy problem

also available on: AO3

***

Sometimes John calls Sherlock little secret names in his head. Greets him with hey, handsome in the morning, calls him genius when he’s being too clever, calls him pretty man, silly git, sweetheart. But sometimes he just needs to call him,

“You fucking idiot!”

John throws his jacket at the back of his chair in obvious distress. It falls off immediately. He is clearly angry with him, Sherlock has observed the ragged breath and flaring nostrils long ago and drawn his conclusions. He wonders what exactly he’s done wrong to upset him so much. The fact that he (technically not quite) stole a boat or that he managed to fall into the Thames? He himself is just upset about having been forced to sacrifice his woollen coat in order to save himself from drowning. Of course, he owns lots of coats. You never know when an accidence like this one might occur.

While Sherlock swam to the shore, John made sure the jewellery thieves, due to which that boat chase had originally been initiated, did not shoot at Sherlock, and in the process of that received a pretty hard blow to the head. A bump is already growing just next to the vein that always pulsates visibly when John is angry.

“You should cool that,” Sherlock suggests.

“Shut up! I will cool that when I feel like cooling it, I’m a bloody doctor!”

Sherlock swallows. It’s worse than he thought. He cannot deny that he likes John when he is on the right side of angry, but this is probably the wrong side and he is also being yelled at.

“A boat chase, Sherlock?!”

“In my defence-” Sherlock starts, but is interrupted by John raising a finger, ordering him to shut the hell up.

“Take your clothes off.”

Sherlock stares. Sherlock blinks. His mind stays blank for a worryingly long amount of time. Then he remembers. He’s wet. Soaked, in fact, completely down to his bones, and freezing too. It’s taken him a little long to catch up because these words, words spoken in the tone of an army captain, are something he’s last heard two days ago, half asleep and desperate in his own bedroom. Another one of those nights in which his imagination filled in for the needs that reality doesn’t meet.

John is waiting in this charged air of silence, maybe having realised what he just said, maybe not. Sherlock tips his chin up and obeys.

“I’m not so posh anymore now, am I?” he mutters under his breath.

John presses his lips together at this, and Sherlock worries briefly that the vein at his temple might just burst. His eyes withhold a certain kind of spark, like a candle flickering, like the glare of a predator. All of a sudden, Sherlock feels stripped completely naked by those eyes only. Then he comes to realise … He’s stripping down. The ruined jacket abandoned next to his shoes and socks, his shirt hanging open to expose his chest and stomach, and his trousers… he’s in the process of shoving them down his thighs. The process of stripping down to his underwear for John Watson. But he feels naked.

John is walking towards him. Slowly, like he means to break him. He might.

His eyes are boring into Sherlock’s own and electrify the space between them, the air they breathe. Sherlock swallows, once more, but his throat is dry and he is thirsty. He is cold, goosebumps all over his body from the river water and those ocean eyes, but his skin is hot with anticipation.

John steps right into his space. Sherlock can smell him. It does things to him, awful things to his heightened senses. It clouds them, but at the same time he is overly aware of naked skin and of John wearing way too many clothes.

“Yeah,” John whispers roughly, so rough and so low he could hurt himself on that sandpaper voice. “You’re still a fucking posh boy.”

John’s eyes drop, and his breath is ragged, but Sherlock suspects this time it’s for entirely different reasons than anger. He doesn’t know who gives in first, and frankly, he  doesn’t give one fuck about it because the next thing he knows is that John’s lips are on his and it feels like he’s dying and being reborn in one single breath.

They long for each other, and their lips meet so hard it might leave bruises. John is all-consuming, is groaning and opening his mouth by opening his own first. Sherlock’s knees buckle at the sensation that is John’s tongue running over his bottom lip. If this is what it’s like to kiss John Watson, he should be put in chains because it’s dangerous. He walks him backwards, shoves him into the wall next to the kitchen. Sherlock’s trousers have dropped down to his ankles and he almost falls over them, held upright by the hard surface of the wall where he bumps his head into.

Dizzy and with a sharp pain buzzing through the back of his head, he feels weightless when John lifts one of his legs, slowly running his hand over the underside of his thigh, fingers through thin hairs and over hard muscle, and Sherlock’s natural reaction is to wrap his leg around John’s middle and hold on tight, so tight. His trousers are hanging from the end of his foot like one last resort before they fall off and to the floor. The pain wears off, and suddenly Sherlock thinks he can feel everything.

The smooth fabric of John’s shirt and the rough one of his jeans that presses against the lower part of his body. Against his thighs and hipbones and the growing bulge in his pants. John’s one hand is rubbing back and forth over his inner thigh and the soft spot where it dissolves into firm buttocks. A soft spot that draws a quite whine out of the back of his throat. He places his other hand on his face to hold him. Lifting his jaw ever so slightly, his thumb is stroking over one sharp cheekbone, and he kisses him again.

Sherlock still feels like he is dying, but it’s different than it was before. John deepens the kiss, and he feels utterly devoured. He’s never wanted anything more, he thinks. Wrapped up in all of him. It fuels his addictive personality in many dangerous ways, but he cannot think, can only indulge in this dance of drawing back only to lean back in again, tongues against each other in one hot wet mess.

All the blood is running south, and as he wraps his arms around John’s neck, he isn’t quite sure how to feel, much less what he is doing.

John breaks the kiss with a sigh. A long, dreamy sigh Sherlock has trouble interpreting correctly. Is it regret? Relief? Pity? But as he closes his eyes in silence, he brings their foreheads together and leans against him. They stay like this for what seems like minutes over minutes, and it should be uncomfortable, should feel ridiculous - with one of them undressed and the two of them panting against each other - but it doesn’t. They breathe together in unison, and when John draws back to look at him, his eyes don’t show anger, aren’t predatory. They are warm, they are gentle.

“You have no idea how long…” he begins, but doesn’t quite know where he was going with it, or if he wants this sentence to end.

Sherlock’s response gets stuck in his throat and its remains come out in a sob. “Yes,” he manages.

“And all this time,” John continues, “So much time…”

“It’s okay,” Sherlock assures him. His voice is quiet, as if he was afraid of breaking emotions fragile and clear as glass. And when they aren’t clear as glass, they are a thick fog of all the things left unsaid. It’s very hard to see through it, but what he sees is sharp enough. “We’re here now.”

John leans back in. He takes his time now, is gentle in his touches and caresses his cheeks. They feel wet, somehow, but Sherlock doesn’t understand why. It’s like the tears are falling naturally.

“Bedroom,” John whispers.

How many times has he imagined John Watson in his bed before this? He hasn’t kept track, but he knows that this time couldn’t be further from his imagination. Because it is reality. And it feels so, so much better than anything else in the world.

John doesn’t hold anything back with him. He kisses him in every spot, he bites his lip and neck and, oh god, the sensitive skin up, up his thighs. He whispers names into all of those spots, lets them sink into his flesh and travel to his chest where they can burn and glow and melt his insecurities with flickers of bliss.

He calls him love when he breaks a kiss, calls him honey as he buries his face in the crook of his neck, calls him genius when Sherlock touches him in the most intimate of places. He tells him he is gorgeous, tells him I need you and I want you. It’s the hottest thing in Sherlock’s ears, goes straight between his legs. He asks him, Is this okay?, asks almost desperately how, how can I have you?

He calls him you brilliant man when he groans, you pretty, pretty boy. But as he thrusts, harder, yes harder, sinks his teeth into his flesh and moans, as his movements became frantic and they are so close and wrapped in each other with tangled limbs and desperation, and yes, as he comes, the one thing on his lips is Sherlock. Only Sherlock. As beautiful as he has ever heard his own name sound. He’s had no idea his name could sound like this, and he’s not sure how anything else could ever come close to being this good.

They lie together, cuddling and blissed out and fucking happy for the first time in what seems to have taken ages. Sherlock feels a smile stretching across his face. John’s thumb caresses long laugh lines as he is bent over him. But he isn’t smiling back. He looks like something worries him.

“Don’t ever risk your own life like that again,” he warns him, but warns him softly.

Sherlock thinks about it in the most rational way he can. He is very serious when he says, “If risking my life leads to this right here, to you and me, I might just consider it.”

John goes ahead and bites him. Just below his jawline, as he has very recently learned he likes a lot.

Sherlock gasps and John lets go.

“Oh no,” he whispers. “This wasn’t a reward, Sherlock. It was… long overdue. I’m still mad at you.”

Sherlock looks away in honest concern and fear. “Are you really?”

John sighs. “No.”

They cuddle in silence for a long while. Sherlock is very close to falling asleep. He is much closer to losing himself to whatever he feels for John Watson. He knows it is love. He’s not sure how much more it is, but it might just kill him one day. That might just be fine with him.

“You’re my posh boy now,” John murmurs right before he feels himself drift away.

He smiles, honestly. Wholeheartedly.

“I’ve never been anything else, John.”

***

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When it Rains || Chapter Three

Genre: Angst, Fluff, (eventual) smut

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, Jimin x Reader 

Word Count: 1630

A/N: It’s here! Sorry for the wait! Thank you for all the support! Please enjoy! Sorry if there is any mistakes!

Originally posted by fullfangirling27

The boy you had been waiting to meet again was standing right in front of you. He finally escaped your dreams and was living up to the last statement he told you.

“I’ll see you around Y/N”

That simple sentence had been replaying in your head ever since he left that day and you couldn’t wait to hear his sweet voice again. Whenever Jimin spoke, his words flowed beautifully out of his mouth like a river.

This event itself felt like a dream. What was Jimin doing outside your apartment, in the rain, at five in the morning? He was dressed beautifully, wearing a long black coat with black jeans to match. He also had a mask covering the bottom half of his face for an unknown reason.

“Y/N? What are you doing? Come here.” His river like voice cascades smoothly through your ears as he gestures you to take shelter under the same black umbrella from before.

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