this place is so pretty it totally makes up for the sewers

Miscellaneous Clark Kent headcanons as relate to my little fic universe, that may or may not ever come up because who knows:

  • Little Clark was really susceptible to childhood superstitions for some reason. He didn’t go under ladders, he did the salt over the shoulder thing, he did not fuck with that Bloody Mary shit like NOPE I’M OUT THIS SLUMBER PARTY IS CANCELED, LANA GET OUT OF MY HOUSE AND TAKE YOUR MURDER GHOSTS WITH YOU. He believes that he is over this as an adult but whenever his foot is about to fall on a crack in the sidewalk it actually stops like a half inch above the ground and hovers there. He does not notice he is doing this. No one notices, ever, because it is the weirdest subtle unconscious thing in the world. At least Martha’s back is safe?
  • I covered the picky eater thing in Christmas in Kansas but to be more specific his tastebuds are just really sensitive to certain chemical compounds? Not just in terms of things he won’t eat but also in terms of things that he expects to be there and he doesn’t really like foods that lack those things. Your two options to make him eat anything are to cover it in sugar, or cover it in garlic.
  • He goes through a lot of breathmints. Can you imagine if Superman saved someone and they were like “man i appreciate being alive but he had some really bad garlic breath”? He would be so horrified.
  • He has a ratty, fucked-up old shirt that he wears whenever he is making pasta with red sauce. Even Superman cannot stand against the ability of red sauce to end up on whatever you happen to be wearing. HE WAS SO CAREFUL THIS TIME, HOW DID A STAIN END UP ON HIS BACK THAT JUST MAKES NO SENSE. Clark Kent’s weaknesses: kryptonite, tomato stains.
  • His ability to perfectly imitate anyone’s voice was one of the first things to manifest themselves, but this wasn’t the kind of thing anyone noticed was weird. It definitely didn’t seem like a power. He was just a small child who could do a really good Kermit the Frog. He sang Rainbow Connection at a middle school talent show and all the moms cried.
  • He definitely has a playlist to cheer himself up and get pumped and it has Eye of the Tiger and You’re the Best on it. Probably also half the Top Gun soundtrack.
  • Clark Kent’s twitter is pretty standard snarky newsman except with more farming memes. No one can tell how ironic the farming memes are. They might not be ironic at all. Clark Kent might be really sincere, or he might just be so ironic that he has circled back around into sincerity. No one knows. He’s also really good at that thing where you retweet two things from a person that side-by-side reveal they are a dingus. I don’t know if there’s a word for that.
  • His Snapchat is all dogspotting, with occasional rare dance breaks. He’s a pretty good dancer since he found those YouTube tutorials. He does this thing with his hips that Lois finds deeply upsetting for reasons she cannot articulate.
  • Jimmy asked Clark how he got so fit once and Clark was like “uh, farming. farm. eyup.” But he kept pressing for deets and Clark ended up just telling him that he’d pulled a Milo of Croton??? He lifted a newborn calf over his head and then just did that every single day until he was lifting a cow over his head. Jimmy knows nothing about farming or cows or physical fitness and this seemed plausible enough to him.
  • He has a blog where he posts rejected articles and it is the wonkiest thing in the entire world because that is why they got rejected. Perry takes one look at these articles and is like “it will take more words than I want to pay you for just to explain the setup for this article and also there are five people total who care, in the world, including you”
  • He has to be really careful when he buys clothes because he needs to make sure that they aren’t too tight and he has full range of motion. He does not want to relive The Skinny Jeans Incident. Shirts that say ‘I flexed and the sleeves fell off’ are only funny until it happens to you, then they are just horrible reminders. Popped seams everywhere. There is no way to explain that without looking like a huge tool.
  • Even when Superman has a really shitty day he keeps it together until he gets home, but then he shuts the balcony door and peels off his costume and Clark does the Tina Belcher groan for like ten minutes while he takes a shower because he got covered in sewer mutant or space crab or god knows and UUUUUUUUUUGH. Fortunately the nice older lady in the apartment next door always seems to know when he has had a shitty day and she brings him pie.
  • She can hear his melodramatic bullshit from over at her place, that’s how she knows. They share a bathroom wall and it practically echoes. If she times it right he will answer the door before he has put a shirt on because he doesn’t want to leave her waiting in the hall. She does not know what his day job is and it definitely does not occur to her that he is Superman because her primary interaction with him is that he acts like a whiny bitch and she brings him pie so she can ogle him. She is a simple woman who enjoys life’s simple pleasures.
  • The Kryptonian language is really complicated in terms of tonality, context, word order, musicality, etc, and the written language reflects that. Things like the order things are in, how things overlap, colors, etc, are all important. So basically I really like the idea of his symbol being one that represents his family name and says that he is of the House of El. It’s really just basically his last name.
  • If Starfleet gets to have replicators then Krypton gets to have replicators and Jor-El definitely stuck one in the ship so his son would have, you know, food and clothing. But only Kryptonians can use their tech because they’re who the neural interface is designed for so whoops they got real lucky that Kryptonian babies love milk from Earth goats. Clark only started using the replicator later but it only knows how to make Kryptonian things and only some of those are useful to him.
  • Okay so here is where I tie those last two bullet points into something fucking dumb that you will take out of my cold dead hands: Clark got the costume out of the replicator. It didn’t necessarily understand what he wanted though? Like, the concept of a costume didn’t really translate, but it got the idea that he wanted an active uniform, so that is what it made. It’s brightly colored and has his last name on the front. Clark is wearing a Kryptonian football jersey is what I’m getting at. Later Kara will be VERY confused by this. Imagine ending up on an alien planet and meeting your cousin and he’s been fighting crime dressed like a quarterback.
  • Most telepathy does not work because different neural patterns. Diana can only manage it if she uses her lariat and even then it’s like trying to lasso a freight train that does not stop. It’s extremely disorienting. J'onn has just accepted that Superman can hear him but he’s not going to get anything back. It’s like the psychic equivalent of a dial tone for him. He’s trying to call his bro but their family has dialup. He tries not to fuck with it because he doesn’t want to poke around in Superman’s head blind and break something.
  • Clark can’t type with super speed because he’ll break the keyboard and the computer can’t keep up. Instead he uses shorthand along with a custom set of AutoHotKey macros and it is honestly infuriating how fast he can get things written with this setup. But also if he doesn’t have AutoHotKey on whatever he’s typing with then sometimes Lois will get an email like: ll] dyk f pw mde a dec wrt t $l stry? ]ck
  • A woman was told by her therapist to try talking to at least one person once a week but she decided to cheat by just talking to her empty apartment under the guise of telling Superman about her day because lol he can hear everything allegedly so this definitely counts and is what the doctor was going for with this. When she has to go to the hospital for a medical emergency she comes home and there is a note on her counter wherein Superman explains that he was worried because he hadn’t heard from her in a while, so he swung by to check on her. When he found out what happened he watered her plants and fed her goldfish and also that cat that he thought might be hers (she does not have a cat). She is completely mortified because she was just being full of shit she did not actually believe he could hear her oh god what all did she even say and whose cat is this???
  • Look if you are in Metropolis and you loudly say HEY SUPERMAN there is a very good chance he will hear it even if he doesn’t mean to. He is not trying to eavesdrop, that’s just what happens when you yell someone’s name in earshot.
  • He doesn’t wear the costume under his clothes because you may have noticed a running theme here where the universe is conspiring to ruin his clothes and leave him running around shirtless all the time. I mean thank god for the rest of us but he would rather not risk someone spilling their drink all over him somehow and suddenly his shirt is transparent and you can see the big S. It’s bad enough when it happens under ordinary circumstances. How often can one man get drinks spilled all over him? You would be shocked. Shocked. His eyes are up here, Lois.
Who You Are (Part 5)

Originally posted by bubblyholland

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 2,793

Warning: swearing, violence, making out ;)

Summary: You are on a mission of your own when you get caught by a certain superhero.

A/N: For some reason I always post at 11 o’clock at night. I have no idea why….Sorry for the long wait! I’ve been really busy with school, but I got it done! :)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

When you had come up with the idea of Peter helping you learn to defend yourself, you didn’t realize how hard it would actually be. Ok, this should be easy enough, you think right before you punch the bag.

“Shit! That really hurts. Ow. Fuck.” You say, shaking your gloved hand out and jumping around while cradling your dominant hand into your chest.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break your hand. You punched with your thumb tucked it.” Peter says standing to your right with his arms crossed.

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anonymous asked:

Hello, you're a fantastic writer and I'm enjoying your stories. Thanks for all the great TMNT fan fiction! I especially appreciated the "bi" story with Mikey. I'm bi and there are so many negative stereotypes floating around that kill relationships before they start. Thanks for understanding Mikey! I was wondering how each of the turtles would react to an S/O who had a lot of dating and sexual experience in her past. Would they be turned off? Would they be intimidated? Not care?

Ello there, my Anonymous friend. Haha, I can’t take full credit for ‘understanding’ or ‘getting it’ because I am pan as fuck. Totally get what you’re saying. Anyways! Onto the matter of your ask. Well….

Leo -

It probably wouldn’t bother Leo that much. They have experience? Great! Because he certainly doesn’t. What matters for him most in a S/O is how they click on an emotional and a personal level. Anything else, eh, it’s not his place to judge and even if it was, he wouldn’t dream of it. His S/O is perfect as they are.

He might feel a little… Inadequate however, knowing she already has standards of what she expects and worrying if he’ll be able to meet them or if it’s just going to be a big disappointment all around. This would probably wear off quickly enough.

Raph -

Raph is a pretty territorial kind of guy. He’s got that feral thing going on for him. So actually, he might be a little jealous to hear about the other guys (or gals) his S/O has been with in the past… Unless! Unless they were bitching about them. In which case, Raph would get his gossip on quicker than a speeding bullet. Encouraging his S/O just to get it all out and scream her frustrations about this ex.

But over all, it wouldn’t bother him, per se. At least, it wouldn’t bother him about them. If one of their ex partners came snooping around, trying to get back together, then the idea would really get to him- Likely to the point he goes out of his way to terrify said ex, if not outright put the hurt on them if they’re especially a douchebag.

Donnie -

Oh, yes! It would worry Donnie to no end. Statistically speaking if they have all these other choices for a partner, why in their right mind would they pick him? What did he have to offer them? He was just some mutant nerd who lived in the sewers. It might even get to the point he becomes distant from his S/O, worrying about this far too much.

However, after a long talk, some coffee and a couple of kisses, he would be feeling much better about it. The issue might drop up once or twice more but with the same caring treatment and the longer the relationship goes on, it’d soon be forgotten about.

Mikey -

Mikey would be more interested than worried for threatened by it. What where these previous partners like? What did his S/O like about them? What didn’t they like? He’d use it more as a social experiment kind of thing, to try and work out how he can be the number one boyfriend™.

After all, Mikey is always about making his love happy. Why would he worry about their past when he could be making their future together brighter and happier?

AN: This is my first time writing Spiderman, and it’s been forever since I’ve seen the movies. SO, this will still be the same version of Spiderman as put in the request, but it will be in the AVENGERS ‘verse. Okay? Okay. Thank you to the anon that sent this request in. *I do not own the gif, found on google. Please ignore any spelling errors. Enjoy!

Pairing: Spiderman (The Amazing Spiderman) X Reader

Prompt(s): 1.)Hey can you please do a Peter Parker spiderman Andrew Garfield one shot with lots of fluff and smut plz? thanks

2.) Peter Parker saving reader from Deadpool whos tryin to flirt wth her??

Warnings: Language


“Not Harassment”

This city was strange, you decided. Not because of the smells emitting from the sewers, the unique people that walk its streets, or anything else— no, rather it was the fact that this was the home of the Avengers.

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Tofu Guys Don't Eat Meat by Vicki Woods for Vogue, May 1990 (Part II)

So River’s handsome little head, from an early age, has been full of global concerns and the need to save water when you flush. This is fine, except when you’re a Hollywood star at the same time and writers jet in to ask you what you think of God, Harrison Ford, Rob Reiner, Sidney Lumet, President Bush, and all those other grown-ups. And you’ve been brought up to think for yourself, hold your own in conversation, stick up your chin and talk. So they take it all down as if it were gospel and you end up sounding like a real dweeb. River groans again at the thought of his early interviews. “Oh, oh, I just find them misleading. I don’t recognize myself… I sound kind of like… bright boy, teenage messiah, health fanatic… uh. Save the World… hippy-dippy background… the whole collage reads false. It’s the terms that are wrong. I mean… Save the World.”

As it happens, he did give me a long riff on God (“or Supreme Being or Life Force, call it what you will”), but you don’t want to read it here. (I’m an atheist, I said. “Good move!”, said River with tact and charm.) We talked about trees. He wanted to write something down on my notebook and I flicked over so he couldn’t see what I’d been writing about him. “Tsk tsk!” he said. “You could’ve used that bottom half. You shouldn’t waste paper.” Why not? “Why not? Because trees are a diminishing resource, that’s why not. The American Forest Council ran an add saying that we have 40 percent more trees in America now that we had eighty years ago. Sure! Yeah - in the form of toilet paper and used paper cups! In fact, we cut down an area of the size of Connecticut every year. The Forest Service plant trees, sure, but for wood pulp. I think wood pulp should only be used for writing materials. People waste so much paper. In every hardware store, you get acres of paper for every receipt. Three copies of all this crap - surely our technology is more advanced than this! I mean, if they can make a plutonium generator that will orbit Jupiter and stay out there for forty-three years, surely they can make a receipt than will save paper.”

River became pretty intense about orbiting Jupiter. “Drives me nuts! We have amazing superpower technology that will now never need to be devoted to… to arms, and instead of putting the money into building safe sewers and protecting the groundwater, they… they… can’t even make a damn birth control device that will limit the world’s population.”

Now, hang on a minute. How many brothers and sisters have you, River? Four, is it? Five of you altogether? Uh, not much population limiting going on there. His eyes opened up, but he took it on the chin. “My family,” he said carefully, “don’t waste the world’s resources. We eat what we grow, we don’t exploit animals, we use up less than our share of electricity and power, we have solar heating, we aren’t materialistic…” It was a spirited defense, and I thought he was sweet, and we changed the subject.

The waitress brought us a small bill (on a small piece of paper). “Let’s go to the smoke shop,” said River. He has to smoke in Dogfight (and presumably to shave, too), so he’s practicing. Gainesville’s smoke shop is a wonderful place, tall and airy with aluminum ashtrays and racks of books. I asked River what he was reading at the moment and he said, “Nothing”: he was busy with his music, he liked reading, though: he was always looking for good books; he liked big, universal themes; something that told him something large-scale about the human-condition. Did I have any recommendations? he asked with artful flattery, head to one side. He’d really appreciate my advice. Oh, mercy. I went totally blank. Er… War and Peace? The nice old guy in the smoke shop went off on a long search and came up with a dusty copy. River said it looked great. And big. We bought it.

Every time we crossed a street, some little person popped up to say, ‘’Hey, Riv!’’ and River would cross over to slap him on the arm and say Hey! back. None of the hailers were crop-headed, and they weren’t wearing bermudas: River’s friends aren’t among the thirty-five thousand college kids of Gainesville: they’re the cool dudes. Musicians, mainly. They’re all terrifically polite, just like him. River’s in a band, too: he loves it. He writes songs and plays guitar. It’s called Aleka’s Attic, and Island Records is very interested in it. One of his friends told me that he changes the band’s name periodically “so that people will go along to see the whole band, not to see River Phoenix.” River told me that he’d actually toyed with the idea of calling himself something else for musical purposes.

xxxbladeangelxxx  asked:

Sefikura and "I hope you know my name..." with sassy littleshit!Cloud please? (Makes puppy eyes)

Cloud was done. Just… fucking done. He had been shoved on the graveyard shift for three days straight, while also being dragged out during the day with the rest of his squad for an emergency clear-out of monsters in the sewers. 

Firstly, he was pretty sure that was illegal. There had to be laws about working that many hours in a row. Secondly, sewer missions just straight-up sucked; he’d wasted a precious hour when he could have been sleeping getting the stench off him. Thirdly, the only reason he was stuck on the night shift to start with was a bunch of red tape bullshit.

So he stood in front of the elevator at two in the morning, emenating a thunderous hatred for the existance of the entire universe. Fortunately, there was no one else around, so Cloud was free to scowl and fume to his heart’s content.

There was mostly no one else around, at least. Footsteps echoed up the corridor as someone approached. Cloud knew he was breaking regulations by not having his helmet on, and he had plenty of time to put it back into place had he so wished, but frankly he had run out of fucks to give.

He reconsidered his position when the figure rounded the corner, all black leather and long silver hair. Sephiroth. Of course it was fucking Sephiroth.

Cloud did not want to deal with this shit right now.

“The elevator is closed for maintenance until 0600 hours,” Cloud intoned. 

Sephiroth’s footsteps slowed until he came to a stop in front of Cloud. At any other time, Cloud may have been cowed by the stare Sephiroth leveled at him. At two in the morning, with only around a grand total of eight hours sleep in the past three days, Cloud really didn’t care.

“Stand aside, trooper.”

“Sure, but it won’t help. The engineers have everything offline, I’m just here to stop idiots falling into an empty elevator shaft.”

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at the blank-faced blond. 

“Sir,” Cloud added. It was so late and said so off-handedly that it probably would have come across more respectful to leave it off entirely.

“What’s your name?”

“Cloud Strife. Unit 014, gamma division. Infantry.” The ‘please fucking fire me so I can get out of here’ was unspoken, but implied.

“Hmph. And I hope you know my name.”

“Yes. I just don’t care. Throw yourself down the elevator shaft if you really want.”

There was a moment when Cloud thought he was going to be murdered; he was shoved back against the wall, Sephiroth’s hand dangerously close to his throat. Cloud couldn’t quite tell if it was a threat or a caress.

“You’re lucky you are cute enough that your insolence is endearing.”

Wait. What? 

Cloud blinked stupidly. Was it possible to be so sleep-deprived that he was hallucinating? ‘Cause he thought Sephiroth had just called him cute. And was touching him.

“You’re lucky you’re fucking gorgeous enough that no one cares you’re an asshole.”

Sephiroth leaned in. “Is that so?”

Gods, his face was so close to Cloud’s, merely an inch away from him. Cloud hadn’t really meant to accidentaly compliment Sephiroth, but he hadn’t been wrong. Seeing him from so near… it was obvious regardless, Sephiroth really was fucking gorgeous.

While Cloud was too stunned to respond, Sephiroth stepped past him and manually pulled open the elevator doors.

“Hey!” Cloud protested. He hadn’t been kidding; the elevator wasn’t running, and there was nothing but the empty shaft in front of them. It was a stupidly long drop down. The bottom wasn’t even visible.

“You will also find I am skilled enough to do as I wish,” Sephiroth said. Casually as anything, he stepped out into the empty space and freefall. Cloud darted over, wide-eyed, on his hands and knees as he stared over the edge. He was just in time to see the distant figure of Sephiroth grasp the elevator’s hoist cables and slow himself to a stop, before yanking open another set of doors and leaving just as casually.

“That was completely unnecessary and stupid and I know full well you’re just being a dick to try and show off!” Cloud yelled down.

He caught the faint echo of Sephiroth’s laugh drifting back up the elevator shaft.

Belated Thoughts on “Smoke and Mirrors”: Peggy, Bletchley, and the SOE

Note: this post operates on the timeline that assumes Peggy was born in April 1921. 

Peggy Carter has done more than her fair share of fighting for what she has, and she’s had plenty of doors slammed in her face, but I like that this season of the show is exploring how she also has benefitted from certain privileges that women like Agnes Cully and Dottie Underwood didn’t have. The first of these is security—both familial and financial. Peggy had people who believed  in her, and Peggy also grew up in a comfortable environment, well-fed and full of books and play. Who knows if that thing Peggy said in her application to the Griffith about her father knowing a Senator was true, but if so he might have been an MP or diplomat. In any case, her family had enough money to get a proper wedding dress in wartime, and they were also able to give their daughter her second great privilege: an education.

Let’s look at Peggy’s education for a moment. We know she’s a badass fighter, but given her accomplishments, Peggy is probably also gifted in math and the modern languages. She’s a natural at codebreaking, which means she’s quick at picking up and processing information and at recognizing patterns. To be hired at Bletchley, she would probably have known German and/or been good at math. For the SOE to recruit her, she would most likely have to be fluent in French. We know from “The Iron Curtain” that she can translate from Russian on the spot. She also has enough working knowledge of the sciences that she knows which household products contain what she needs to neutralize a nitramene bomb and that she can BS a sufficiently realistic-sounding way to engineer a strain of malaria.

(More on the timeline of Peggy’s involvement with Bletchley, the SOE, and the SSR below)

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Anon requested: Could you pretty please do a really fluffy but also a little steamy Raph one? Maybe he gets jealous or something orrrr flustered and embarrassed or all? Pweasies?

(A/N: I know I said I wasn’t going to make this very steamy, but it kinda ended up like so. Also, I based this off of 2k3/2k7 Raph just because I pictured it, but you can easily replace the gold eyes with green if you want 2k12 Raph c: )

You knew he liked you. You caught him staring at you more times than you could count. Heck, you even heard him tell his brothers he thought you were a babe.

It wasn’t a problem, considering you found yourself oddly attracted to the red masked turtle. He had the most gorgeous golden eyes, and his Brooklyn accent was enough to give you goosebumps.

You couldn’t deny it, Raphael was sexy.

How did you figure he liked you? It wasn’t hard. He’d stare at your lips for a second or two here and there as he talked to you. He always sat closer to you than the others. And you had a hunch he would dream about you.

The turtles had invited you over, and you quickly agreed. That’s when your idea came to you.

You liked Raph a lot, and he liked you. It was time for you to reveal your feelings for him, but you weren’t just going to tell him. No, you were going to drop the hints and get him flustered. You grabbed a red tank top that was a little form fitting and a pair of black shorts. You decided to even put on makeup. Once you were done, you threw on a pair of sandals and a thin jacket. Excitement grew in your stomach as you opened the sewer by your house and saw a pair of golden eyes staring up at you.

“About time!” Raph shouted up playfully.

“Sorry! I had to get ready and stuff,” you weren’t lying. Raph shook his head and held out his arms, ready to catch you. You jumped down and his arms wrapped around your waist and he slowly put you down. You made sure to place your hands on his shoulders, and slid them down his arms, feeling his muscles. A gulp came from Raph, and a smirk formed on your lips as he hesitantly moved away from you, to put the sewer cap back on.

“So, uh… nice to see you, (Y/N),” Raph came back down, giving you a slightly nervous smile.

“Same to you, Raph,” you stepped closer to him.

Raph was silent the rest of the way. You would “accidentally” brush up against him, every time he turned to look at you to probably, you’d bat your eye lashes at him and he would turn away. It made you giggle.

“(Y/N)’s here. I’ll be in the dojo practicing if you need me,” Raph announced as the two of you walked in. Mikey sat up and waved at you. Leo and Donnie were nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, (Y/N)! I just got this awesome new videogame for us to play!” Mikey held up some Xbox controllers as Raph walked away. You wanted to follow after Raph, but you decided to give him a break.

“Sure, Mikey! Lets do it!” you skipped over towards the couch and sat beside Mikey.

“You are going to love this game, dudette!”


After about three hours of playing videogames with Mikey (and eventually having LEO and Donnie come over and watch you two), Raph finally came out of the dojo.

“What were you doing?” Leo turned around to face Raph. You spun around and smiled at him.

Raph’s cheeks turned as red as they could, “Just letting off steam.”

“Well dude, you missed it! (Y/N) totally kicked my butt in Assassin’s Creed,” Mikey nudged you.

“Well when you owned the game for two years and beat it about four times, you kinda become a pro,” you smirked.

“You want to join us? We’re planning on watching a movie,” Donnie asked his older brother.

“Nah, I’m kinda tired,” Raph faked yawned. You saw right through it, and knew he was trying to avoid you in order to prevent himself looking like a fool. He headed up towards his room after the other three turtles nodded.

“I’m going to head to the bathroom. You can start the movie if you want,” you stated, getting up. Much to your luck, the bathroom was right across from the turtle’s rooms.

You walked up the stairs just to see Raph opening the door to his room, “Raph!”

The red clad turtle stopped and looked at you, eyes wide, “H-Hey…”

“You’ve avoided me practically all night,” you walked up to him and held your hands together.

“No, that’s not it-” Raph shook his head

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I hung out with you for a little?” you tilted your head, giving him an innocent smile.

“Come on in,” Raph held the door open for you. You walked in and stood off to the side so Raph could walk in. He closed the door and turned on the light. The lighting in the room was very dim, and you loved it. The ninja’s room was rather plain with the exception of his bed, a small coffee table, and various weights and weapons.

“I thought you did all your training in the dojo?” you pointed to the weights.

“Sometimes. When I can’t sleep, I usually do some sort of training in here so I don’t disturb Splinter,” Raph sat on his bed.

“Interesting,” you nodded. You caught Raph staring at you again and smiled, “Why don’t you just take a picture?”

“What?” Raph’s eyes went wide again as he looked away. You sighed to yourself.

“Raphael, I know you have the hots for me. There’s no use in trying to hide your crush on me,” you stated. Raph opened his mouth, only to close it again. He was flustered for real this time. It was kinda cute, but you were a little aggrivated over the fact he was trying to deny it.

“I don’t know where you get that idea from-” Raph began, but was quickly cut off by you sitting on his lap.

“Its kinda obvious you like me,” you started to unzip your jacket, but very slowly. Raph’s eyes flickered down at your zipper, but quickly back up to your eyes.

“H-How… how?” Raph couldn’t even speak. He was so shocked by your sudden action.

“I’ve caught you staring at me I don’t know how many times. You always find a way to sit beside me, and you speak rather loudly. Especially in your sleep,” you shrugged your jacket off.

Raph’s cheeks were bright red, “(Y/N)…”

“But don’t be embarrassed, because I return the feelings,” you grabbed his shoulders and brought him closer to you so you could kiss him. Your lips touched slightly and Raph froze. You moved your arms around his neck and kissed him gently. A smile came across your lips as Raph wrapped his arms tightly around you. He began to kiss you back, and you couldn’t say you didn’t enjoy it.

Suddenly you were caught off guard. The next thing you know is that you’re on your back and Raph is on top of you.

“Raph-” you managed to gasp as he pulled away for a moment, only to go back to kissing you, only a little rougher this time. You kissed him back, grabbing onto his shoulders and his shell, pulling him closer.

He ran his tongue over your bottom lip and you parted your lips with no hesitation. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth and you moaned unexpectedly into the kiss. Embarrassed, you pulled away quickly and turned your head to the side, placing a hand over your mouth. You closed your eyes as well, to prevent yourself from looking at him.

“What’s wrong?” Raph placed a hand on your cheek. You shook your head.

“You didn’t hear that?” you didn’t even dare face him.

“Are you embarrassed?” Raph whispered seductively. You felt chills run up and down your spine as he placed his lips on your neck. He kissed down from your jaw to your collar bone, leaving a trail of kisses. He started to kissed back up your neck, but once he placed a kiss on the crook of your neck you shivered and let out another moan. He smirked against your skin as he slightly bit down.

“Raphael-” you gasped loudly and tilted your head back. His fingers ran through your hair and he held you close to him. He came back up to kiss you on the lips again.

He pulled away too soon in order to let you catch your breath. Raph hovered over you, breathing heavily. You were also gasping for air. The ninja looked down at you and smirked.

“Ready for round two?” you felt him play with the hem of your tank top. You nodded eagerly, and his lips smothered yours again as his hand slipped up your shirt.

Mission (Namjoon x Reader)

Namjoon is usually a good mission leader.

Request: If you don’t mind, would you be willing to write an AU (of your choice) with Namjoon (of anyone from EXO or BTS of your choice) when the reader or member is having a hard time (being it depression, self harm, stress, insecurity, etc.) And the other comforts them? Btw love what you’re doing and sorry this is long

fluff + action, 3.2k words, namjoon/reader, spy au

“Agents, report your statuses.” Namjoon’s voice cuts through the silence of the sewer.

You press a gloved hand toward your earpiece. “Agent _______ is in,” you whisper, voice echoing against the concrete walls. “And walking in deep shit.” You clench your teeth as you step in a particularly deep corridor of putrid liquid, glad for the gas mask and water-proof, disposable jumpsuit.

“Sorry, baby, but I don’t trust anyone else with your job,” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Jungkook? Jimin?”

“I’m at the entrance.” You recognize Jungkook’s voice, grainy with static.

“And I’m still sucking up to our enemies,” says Jimin. “Nothing unusual so far.”

“Alright. Stick to the plan. This is an easy mission, but in case anything happens, I’m in the car with Yoongi. He’s in their system.”

“Not for long, though,” Yoongi says, his voice gruff. “Try to make this fast and quick, rookies.”

You roll your eyes; none of you guys are considered rookies anymore, but Yoongi still likes to joke around about that, him being your superior and trainor.

“Hey,” Jimin says, indignant. “We’re experienced agents n—”

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carneh-asada  asked:

So you answered my ask a little while ago and asked if there was anything you hadn't addressed that I would like answered. I have 2 questions. 1. Seriously. What does Neil do for daily scale care. 2. What do the Foxes do to try and incorporate Neil into more things?

making this public because hey scale care is very important, almost as important as group activities

but no omg I love these questions. 

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A behind-the-scenes glimpse of the final assault in 'Mockingjay -- Part 2'

“This is a building that we found outside of Paris,” Francis Lawrence said. “If you know the books, there’s a sequence where they set off a trap with toxic oil, this black sludge that comes pouring down onto them. This is just after that sequence. In the movie, this has all been digitally enhanced and the whole bottom half of this courtyard has been covered in a black, hardened tar. The place is called Abraxas. When we knew we had to go deep into the Capitol we wanted to try to find as many real, immersive environments as possible. So we went on a search for architecture around the world that was aesthetically what we needed. We wanted that cross between brutalism and classicism.”

Together Katniss and her team must maneuver through a maze of deadly booby traps set by their oppressors. “Katniss and the squad are moving further into the Capitol,” Lawrence explained. “And Boggs — the character played by Mahershala Ali, right — is holding a device called a ‘holo’ that has a database of the known pods and traps. But obviously others have been added, so we don’t know if holo can see them all.”

Although the film’s setting has changed from the arena of the Hunger Games to the streets of the Capitol, one thing remains constant: Katniss’ weapon of choice. But how well does a bow and arrow work when her team is forced into the sewers beneath the opulent city? “Katniss is pretty effective with it,” Lawrence said. “And Gale with his crossbow, he’s actually pretty effective [as well]. It’s kind of fun because Gale’s got their incendiary arrows which they’re using to light up the tunnels.”

But the fun doesn’t last long, “As they make their way through the Capitol, some of them make it, and some of them don’t,” Jacobson said. “This moment with [Katniss] and Peeta [Josh Hutcherson] is a big turning point, this is her trying to bring him back to her. Everything that they are going through in this assault is pushing him to the limit.” Clearly Katniss still has a connection to the former prisoner Peeta, “He’s falling apart, and she’s trying to keep him with them,” Lawrence said. “And they have to keep moving. So this is actually a very fast, urgent moment that’s not totally tender, although there’s some tenderness to it.”

No doubt this final stand will cost many Panem citizens their lives, but judgment day has arrived, all the way to the front steps of the dictator’s door. “That is Snow’s mansion,” Jacobson hinted. “There’s still quite a bit of reckoning to be done.”  - LA TIMES

Pants, Exit Stage Left

You live across from me in our apartments and we smile when we see each other but we don’t really know each other and oh you’re the stripper at my friend’s stag do/hen night fuck this is really uncomfortable

5.2k | read on ao3 here

Clarke’s been living next to 318 for the better part of six months, and yet she barely knows anything about the guy. Granted that it’s not particularly abnormal to not know much about the people living next door to you in a ten storey building, but she finds it oddly unsatisfying that, in the almost six months she’s lived there, she’s only garnered a handful of facts about her seldom seen neighbour.

She knows that he works odd hours; more often than not she hears his shower running at 3am through the thin wall that separates their apartments. Sometimes she even bumps into him the lobby when he’s on his way out around the same time she’s coming back from the clinic and they exchange small, tight smiles. They even nod at the other on occasion.

She knows that he’s a fairly formidable cook judging from the various mouth watering aromas that tend to seep into her living room and leaves her gazing woefully at her collection of take out menus stacked on the counter before ordering pad Thai for the third time this week.

She knows he has a terrible case of bitch resting face but he did hold the elevator for her that one time so he can’t be a total douche bag (at least she hopes not.) Plus her cat seems to like him considering she’s always mewling at him whenever she hears him puttering about in his apartment and she knows Histi wouldn’t like someone who’s actually a dick. At least she hopes so.

And she knows that he quite possibly goes running or to the gym or something every morning which is. Distracting to say the least. She doesn’t know how to deal with seeing him make his way back into the building with sweat soaked curls and a damp threadbare t shirt that clings to his torso just so. Meanwhile Clarke looks like a blind baby sewer rat squinting through the early morning sun as she goes downstairs to collect her post. It’s not fair.

But yeah, even though she’d like to get to know 318 better, she meant under normal circumstances, like a coffee shop or while grocery shopping. Hell, maybe even being in the elevator at the same time and striking up conversation would work.

Yet lo and behold, here he is at her best friend’s bachelorette party at the bar they’re at for the night as the ‘surprise’ performance which is the furthest from normal circumstances as one can get.

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Tosen gives justice ratings to the Gotei-13 squads

As requested by anon. :)

Tosen already ranked the espada by their levels of justice. Now it is time for him to do the same for the Gotei-13 squads!

#13: Squad 1

Justice level: .001%

“Squad 1 represents all that is wrong with Soul Society: they lead an unjust military complex, and enforce unjust laws. Just look what happened with Kuchiki Rukia. When her death - which was in no way warranted - was ordered, Head Captain Yamamoto led the charge to execute her, and punished anyone who tried to prevent it.”


Yamamoto: Um didn’t your boss kinda orchestrate the whole Rukia execution thing?

Tosen: Exactly. So you must feel pretty bad about going along with it!

Yamamoto: I sense hypocrisy.

#12: Squad 11

Justice level: .0013%

“Squad 11 does not care about right or wrong; they only care about indulging in as much pointless violence as they can get their barbarous bloody hands onto. True justice seeks the path with the least blood. Squad 11 jumps right off that path and dances in lakes of blood for their own amusement.”

Kenpachi: So where are these lakes of blood and how can I get there?

Tosen: See this is why I don’t like you.

#11: Squad 12

Justice level: 3%

“Much like Squad 11, Squad 12 revels in violence and pain. Only instead of carving people up with the sword, Squad 12 prefers to carve them up with a knife. But at least they do it for science. That’s something, I guess.”

Kurotsuchi: You guess? Where do you think your precious justice would be without science, you moron?

Tosen: Talk to me when you have some sort of crime lab.

#10: Squad 3

Justice level: 13%

“Squad 3 suffers somewhat in the justice ratings because it was once run by Ichimaru Gin, who was not a man who cared particularly much about justice, despite following Aizen. Now it is run by Rose, who although not a bad man, is a man who would always pick ‘art’ over 'justice’, I believe.”

Rose: What would that mean, exactly?

Tosen: I don’t know. But it feels true.

Rose: It really does.

#9: Squad 8

Justice level: 20.05%

“I distrust the captain of Squad 8. He does not seem like a man of justice. He once tried to give alcohol to a minor. He was cool with his subordinate spying on a captain’s meeting. He drinks all the time. His lieutenant seems like the law-abiding sort, though. And he always leaves her behind when he goes places!”

Nanao: That is suspicious.

Kyoraku: Don’t doubt me because of what the traitor is saying, Nanao-chan!!

#8: Squad 5

Justice level: 29%

“I respect Aizen-sama and his plans, but even I must admit that Squad 5 is not so much about justice as it is about feelings. Shinji did not report Aizen because he thought he could handle it himself, putting his feelings of superiority above justice. Aizen felt betrayed that Shinji didn’t like him, and so he targeted Shinji. Hinamori felt like Aizen was perfect, and so she did not question what he said or did. Just - a lot of feelings all over the place, in that squad.”

Aizen: I do not act based on my 'feelings,’ Kaname.

Tosen: You kinda do.

#7: Squad 2

Justice level: 33%

“Squad 2 has certain values, and they stick to them no matter what. I respect that. Unfortunately, their values are 'kill everyone as quickly as possible from behind’ which does not strike me as the most just lifestyle.”

Soi Fon: I run the Punishment Squad. What is more just than punishment?

Tosen: Depends on what is - or isn’t - being punished.

#6: Squad 6

Justice level: 57%

“If justice were about following the laws, then Kuchiki Byakuya would have an excellent justice score…but Abarai Renji would bring the average down. If justice is about following JUSTICE rather than the laws, then Abarai would bring up the total, and Kuchiki would bring it down. As it is, I would rate them as just over 50% just.”

Renji: M-my justice score is higher than the captain’s….?


Byakuya: I would like to appeal this decision.

Tosen: There are no appeals.

#5: Squad 4

Justice level: 62%

“Ironically, despite being captained by the worst criminal Soul Society has ever seen, Squad 4 does very little that is unjust. Mostly they hang around healing people and cleaning the sewers. Nothing wrong with that.”

Unohana: Thank you so much for your approval.

Tosen: You are welcome.

Unohana: That was sarcasm.

Tosen: I know.

#4: Squad 13

Justice level: 68%

“Captain Ukitake and Lieutenant Kuchiki both allowed themselves to be deeply and forever affected by the death of one of their own. That is justice. Plus, Ukitake figured that anything Kaien wished to do was fine, because he was grieving for the loss of his loved one. Again - justice.”

Kaien: Actually I’m not sure that -


#3: Squad 10

Justice level: 70%

“When Hitsugaya and Matsumoto realized that Kuchiki Rukia’s execution did not make sense, they investigated, thought critically, and went to the authorities to appeal the decision. They did this in lieu of using violence and rebellion like everybody else did - at least until the violence became absolutely necessary. That is a squad of justice.”

Hitsugaya: Why only 70% then?

Tosen: You lost some points for the “I’ve come to violently kill you” thing.

Tosen: And for stabbing your friend.


HItsugaya: Wish people would let that go.

#2: Squad 9

Justice level: 75%

“When I was captain, I ran my squad according to justice - or at least, as close to justice as I could get under the unjust regime of Soul Society. Hisagi, I believe, internalized my teachings as much as he could. Now the Squad is run by Captain Muguruma. He is not me, but he is still a man who, I believe, cares about justice.”

Kensei: Don’t compliment me, you asshole.

Tosen: Grumpiness does not affect justice, luckily. 

#1: Squad 7

Justice level: 98%

“No one is as just as my dear friend Komamura. And if his squad follows him closely, then they must be just too.”

Komamura: They used to follow me. But then I became a dog.

Iba: We still follow you, Captain!!!


Komamura: But I’m a dog?

a thing about dancing–and ultimately i’m going to illustrate this but for now it needs to be just words because i think, until i get the words right, the illustrations will seem like making fun rather than observations–is that it can make you feel like hot shit, really great about yourself.

a lot of people in the past have taken that at face value and enthused about how empowering dancing is, but for those of us in it for the long haul, who have it as our sole or main form of income, we learn better.

women aren’t taught to enjoy their bodies. i mean for the most part. we aren’t usually taught about masturbation or pleasure or how amazing as well as grotesque bodies are, how to enjoy without complexity good tastes and smells and feelings. we aren’t allowed to feel attractive very often and even when it happens, it’s conditional.

which means for the new dancer, it can be really heady. people paying to see you naked, to be close to your naked body, telling you how attractive you are: it feels good. it feels SPECIAL. it’s not an experience most women get to have, getting onstage, having a room full of eyes watch you, and pay you, and want to be near you.

if you dance long enough, and the IF is key here in an industry where many people drop in and out as needed, you get to see beyond this. you have the first bad shift, someone tells you they don’t want a lap dance in a snide way, you watch the newest new girl awkwardly hang off the pole in her three inch street heels and flail her way into everyone’s laps, you see the girl the club owner is fucking show up two hours late for the saturday night shift, hang out in the office for most of the evening, and then leave early, but still get those plush weekend nights, you watch your friend get fired for being fat, you hear the gossip about how the club’s one black dancer must do extras or why would she be here (or worse, you ARE the club’s one black girl and you know the racist bitches are whispering this)–

all this happens and you start to realise it isn’t the uncomplicated fun fest you thought at first.

the first time you leave in debt after paying the four bouncers, bar back, bar tender, waitress, dj, and house fee–because f you don’t give everyone who holds their hand out their cut they’ll give you a bad review to the manager who schedules based on staff preference–you don’t feel empowered.

after a few years you have your thing worked out: what works for you, what exploitation you can work with and what will make you too angry to function. you learned this after a lot of trial and error, after starting a walk out in the club you LOVED because working with 18 other dancers, two stages, and one lap dance area scaled the odds too far against you–tho now you think about working with ONLY 18 other dancers and laugh–you walked out of a lot of clubs for thinking they could pick the schedule, rake in stage fees, without ever bringing in the customers to pay for all this, left some because the management stole, others because the management wanted you to tell them your childhood trauma and gave preference to dancers who milked it; one club had a sewer that leaked into the dressing room but still made you beg for money to put into the jukebox.

different things work for everyone, but there’s one thing every club has in common, and that is the total indifference to dancer welfare as long as the club is making money.

it starts to be really irritating, and then frustrating, listening to new girls start dancing, listening to them gush about how amazing it is, how wonderful everyone is, how great and awesome the management and owners are. you hear this more often than you can even relate, usually as the newbie sits on the lap of That Guy, That Regular, the one who tips a dollar every few hours but drinks so much that the bar won’t kick them out. These guys suck up the energy of new girls until they learn better, but it’s not a learning process you can speed up: each new girl knows better than you and they only get offended when you try to save their energy for when they’ll need it. in a few months they’ll steer clear and act like they always despised him and will make fun of the new new girl sitting with him and letting him give her a back rub (touch her) for free.

you keep your mouth shut when dancers talk about how wonderful this new club they auditioned at is; they don’t want to hear what you have to say. your problems with it were YOUR problems because you’re burned out and bitter, they will ALWAYS be young and beautiful and accommodating and will not have your problems.
to a certain extent this is true! different things work for different people.

but too often a few months pass and these dancers come back, puffy eyed and hurt, crushed by having been told they were too fat or too unattractive (it doesn’t even matter if this is true, sometimes t isn’t, sometimes it’s just code for “had standards” or “didn’t get on with the owner’s girlfriend.”) they’re astonished by this, as if this is the first time they’ve truly understood they work for men who adhere to heterosexist beauty standards for their own profit, as if it has never before occurred to them that the reason they’re welcome at the club that has scores of dancers a night and not at this club that only has a few dozen, might be that one club has a profit system based on stage fees and the other based on drink sales; as if their personal belief system that dancing is empowering was embraced by everyone and the sudden discovery that conventional beauty standards are still upheld in many places… it’s a cold shock.

it’s sadder to you to see the dancers who are politically down than the dancers who genuinely believed they had a personal and meaningful relationship with their management, or worse, that they were genuinely beautiful in the eyes of all.

you had your period of believing you were special and beautiful and hot shit and that you understand, but to never have understood that this is a business… that seems almost like something to be ashamed of.

some people say that sex workers have dead eyes, or are dead inside, or only care about money. the only way to survive this job is to let it be about money (or some other goal, some dancers parlay it into fame and their own kat von d lipstick shade!) and have your whole self separate from anything that happens. it’s customer service. it’s not where you get your value. it’s customer service in capitalism. it’s not about you. there will always be another pretty face to replace you, and there will always be TEN pretty faces who lack your cold scepticism. all you have is your pretty face and the profit you can leverage it into–once it stops making a profit for the club as well, then sister, you’re through.

it’s exhausting watching this happen over and over and over again, to people you despise as often to dancers you’re close to; more often, really, since you’re not about that shiny newness.
it happens over and over but it never coalesces into anything different, half the time it doesn’t even mean that it won’t happen to the same dancer again in a different club. over and over.

Rereading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban: Chapter Nineteen - The Servant of Lord Voldemort

- FUCKING GOD DAMN we just got the trio to finally sit down and listen to the real story and now motherfuqin snape is coming in here INTERUPTING PEOPLE AGAIN. like damn does hogwarts not teach manners or????

“You fool,” said Lupin softly. “Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?”
BANG! Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape’s wand and twisted themselves around Lupin’s mouth, wrists, and ankles.

ah yes because that is the RATIONAL THING TO DO APPARENTLY???!?!? fuck u snape.

- also sirius is NOT about to take snape hurting lupin lightly he’s literally hopin up like ‘AW HELL NO’ 

“Professor Snape - it - it wouldn’t hurt to hear what they’ve got to say, w- would it?”

sad when the the 13 year old is the voice of reason in a room of adults.

- okay yeah snape is getting pretty scary up in here; i didnt remember him being this fucking crazy. the words used to describe him are ‘deranged’ and ‘beyond reason’ soooo if that tells you anything about the situation lol

- also FUCK the fact that he keeps calling remus ‘the werewolf’ like wow dude really

“Of course,” Lupin breathed. “So simple…so brilliant…he cut it off himself?”
“Just before he transformed,” said Black. “When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I’d betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself - and sped down into the sewer with the other rats…”

yo fuck peter pettigrew, but the dude is smart. like people think he just tagged along with the others and was stupid but dude is SMART.

- hahahahah rons trying to be say scabbers has lived so long because of diet and exercise like OK DUDE LETS BE REAL…. 

“Harry…I as good as killed them,” he croaked. “I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me…I’m to blame, I know it… The night they died, I’d arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he’d gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn’t feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents’ house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies…I realized what Peter must’ve done…What i’d done…” His voice broke. He turned away.


- watching nasty ass peter pettigrew transform from a crusty old rat into a crust old dude would probably scar me for life

- HA sirius is putting peter on blast rn. hes like ‘rumor has it ur crew hates your guts’ and peters trying to be like huh wut BUT HES DYING ON THE INSDIE

“Er - Mr. Black - Sirius?” said Hermione.
Black jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Hermione as though he had never seen anything quite like her.

fucking hermione granger. leave it to her to be cute af in a moment of hostility. and sirius is right; NO ONE has seen anything quite like her. 

- sirius is going into detail about his time at azkaban, talking about how seriously depressed he was and how awful everything has been. and then just decides to tack onto the end ‘btw harry, great quidditch match mate!’ lollll like BYE

“Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them.”
And at long last, Harry believed him. Throat too tight to speak, he nodded.


“Ron… haven’t I been a good friend…a good pet? You won’t let them kill me, Ron, will you…you’re on my side, aren’t you?
But Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion.
“I let you sleep in my bed!”

hahahahha oh ron. i like that this is the worst possible thing that peter could have done to him.

“You don’t understand!” whined Pettigrew. “He would have killed me, Sirius!”

things are getting too real rn.

- ok so like…. lupin is saying that harry is the only one who can decide what they get to do with peter and um..NO??? like ya peter is responsible for the death of harrys parents but sirius is the one who went to FUCKING PRISON FOR THIS MAN. HARRY IS 13 YEARS OLD, THE FUCK HE KNOW ABOUT JUSTICE?

- hahahaha omg i totally forgot snapes been passed tf out this whole time damn

Ron’s face was set. He seemed to have taken Scabbers’s true identity as a personal insult.

god i love ron.

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