this took so long to make and it isn't even good

anonymous asked:

so, um. if you have any particular feelings about labyrinth--specifically Sarah--uh, go wild.

WILD PEACHES  [AO3]

.

The morning after Sarah Williams defeats the Goblin King, she gets up and makes toast. She has to brush some glitter off the toaster—it withers and vanishes at the brush of her fingertips, and she stares at her hand for a long time. 

It mostly just looks like her hand. Even when she turns it over, and sees where she scraped her knuckles against the oubliette, where the shattered mirror cut the back of her wrist. It looks like she fell, or was playing in the street. That’s all.

The toast comes out burned, and Sarah stares at that too. Eventually, she slumps down against the cabinets and cries, wracking sobs that send her dad and Karen rushing into kitchen. They check her forehead for a fever, put their hands on her, and keep asking, “Are you okay? Sarah, please, tell us what’s wrong…”

Eventually, her dad drags her into his lap and cradles her against his chest, like he did when she was little. Her legs are too long to really fit anymore, but Sarah hugs him around the neck anyway. “It’ll be okay,” he says, keeps saying. “You’ll be okay.” And Sarah—doesn’t laugh, because she can’t, and doesn’t have the words to express what—how—

(None of her stories ever talked about this. What did Sir George do, the morning after he slayed the last dragon in England? Did Tam Lin eat breakfast, or did he sit there, shivering, wondering if his hands were different, having been claws and wings and scales?)

Afterwards, she leaves the burnt toast outside on the back porch. Not an offering. Maybe a reminder.

.

It’s Didymus she sees the most often, mostly because he’s the one who invites himself rather than waiting for an invitation. He comes for tea, but even if there’s no tea—which there isn’t, usually—he comes to tell Sarah stories. She learns to love poetry because there’s no escaping it with him. (She won’t read Idylls of the King until Brit Lit in college, but she ends up scrawling a lot in the margins; Didymus’ telling of events had been much more interesting.)

Once, she falls asleep like that, her hands tucked behind her head with Didymus curled up and sleepily reciting from the crook of her elbow. “So tender was her voice, so fair her face—though I don’t think he was looking at her face, my lady, pardon me for saying so—”

Sarah buries her nose in his fur. Didymus always smells of rosewater, and a crispness she thinks is just…the Labyrinth. She falls asleep trying to place it.

She wakes up with a wild fox in her bed, animal-black eyes frightened and flat, teeth bared. The fox is whining, and she’s tempted to throw herself across the room, to get away from this wild thing and its teeth. It takes a monumental will to keep herself still and her breathing slow, even; like she’s still asleep and unafraid. 

It takes her longer to swallow, and start humming one of the songs he taught her—a knight’s round, he’d said. She’s shaky at first, but the fox’s ears flick forward. It cocks its head, and slowly, the teeth disappear behind its lips. 

She almost laughs when noses at her throat curiously, butting its head against her jaw like a cat might.

Keep reading

Yet another from this long list of prompts, completely unprompted.

Number Twelve: “I’m pregnant.”


The text came in at 7:17am, and in the mean time, Stiles had made his way through four and a half breakdowns, all of them for different reasons.

Number One: Male werewolves could get pregnant, and tying into that:

Number Two: Derek had never found it relevant to their two year relationship to share this fun fact. That didn’t say much as to his thoughts on their future together, which stung.

Number Three: Stiles was going to be a father at twenty-four.

Number Four: Just the night before, with Derek in Argentina visiting Cora, Stiles ate a dinner of Cheetos, plain microwaved hotdogs wrapped in bread, and four beers before passing out on the couch with the tv remote in his hand. He was not ready to be a father.

Number Five (still ongoing, more or less halfway through): They were going to have to move because no amount of corner guards or stupid little outlet plugs could childproof the loft. The door to the kitchen was literally a jagged hole in a brick wall. Stiles caught his shins on it regularly, they were always a mess of scabs and bruises.

Actually his entire body was a mess of scabs and bruises, because that was his life now, had been since sophomore year: fighting off the forces of supernatural evil.

Too bad he couldn’t childproof his life.

Oh god, they were going to have to move out of Beacon Hills. Away from the pack.

Nothing was stable in Beacon Hills, it had been eight years of panic and anxiety and near deaths and actual deaths. They couldn’t bring a baby into their current lives, Stiles wouldn’t even bring an adult into this hellhole. Who was trained in firearms. With combat experience.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Dr Who but each incarnation is swapped with one of their companions.

omg?? I love it??

The First Doctor: 

She’s not completely unfriendly, exactly, she just doesn’t have time for humans being idiots. In the right circumstances, she can actually be very warm. She loves history, which is lucky because her granddaughter Susan does too (they tell people Susan is her daughter, but even then it’s a bit of a stretch, human ages are weird). Of course, then two of Susan’s teachers follow her home one night, and next thing the Doctor knows she has a crotchety old history teacher and a handsome young science teacher on her spaceship with no way to get rid of them that isn’t morally questionable. 

Whoops? 

The humans help her lose some of her haughtiness. She leaves Susan in the 22nd century to become her own woman. 

Along the way and against her better judgement, she falls hopelessly for Ian Chesterton. He wants to stay with her forever, but she knows it would never work, and encourages him to go with John Foreman in the Dalek Time Machine to get back to his own time. 

Later, in other lives, she checks in on him occasionally. 

The Second Doctor:

The baby face is a problem. It takes a good twenty minutes on a lot of occasions to get anyone to take her seriously. On the bright side, a lot of Polly’s clothes fit her now. 

She finds a best friend in Scotsman Jamie McCrimmon, whose rather naive approach to futuristic technology is extremely refreshing, as is his unique insightfulness. 

After Ben and Polly leave them, they rescue Victoria, who Jamie is utterly taken with. Victoria is unsure about living a life so unsupervised by someone older and won’t listen to the Doctor’s insistence that she is in fact perfectly qualified to look after them all. 

She and Victoria spend a good many nights aboard the TARDIS talking about women’s history and the things to come for women in the future and how women act on other planets. Victoria is fascinated, occasionally horrified, and often quietly thrilled at the things she learns. 

It’s a shame to see her go, but all she ever wanted was a family and security, and the Doctor can’t provide that. 

They meet an eccentric man on a space station, with funny trousers and an obsession with the recorder. The Doctor and Jamie like him instantly, and invite him on board only to learn that the man had been considering stowing away if not invited. 

The Time Lords take her friends away from her. She is forced to regenerate and exiled to Earth, as punishment for her interference. 

The Third Doctor: 

Shrewd, passionately devoted to science, and not one to take kindly to interruptions or anyone trying to talk down to or even disagree with her, it’s a wonder the Doctor even gets hired by UNIT at all. But then again, beggars can’t be choosers. 

On the bright side, this fellow John Smith from Cambridge seems to be the one person around with an actual brain and not just a penchant for attacking first and thinking later. 

They’re friends instantly. Or, they are once she makes it perfectly clear that she is the cleverer of the two. The look on his face when he realises is a memory she’ll treasure forever. 

He eventually leaves to go back to his own research, upon realising she doesn’t need him. 

It’s a shame and she misses him, but then Jo Grant comes into her life. Despite an awful first impression, the two women are soon fiercely devoted to each other. Jo keeps going on about women having to stick together amongst all the army boys, and while the Doctor could usually not care less about gender politics, if it means Jo hangs around her more, then so be it. 

The Master turns up. It’s exhausting and exasperating and oh so much fun

Meanwhile, the Doctor’s told herself to not let herself fall for humans, after how much Ian hurt. But with Jo, it’s impossible not to. (Not that she hasn’t noticed the Brigadier’s lingering stares, or failed to appreciate him in his uniform. But he’s far too professional to ever do anything, and too trigger happy besides.) 

Jo is like sunshine and she’s always there and smiling and pressing herself against the Doctor out of fear or shock, until one day they’re in the supply closet of a spaceship and they’re kissing furiously instead of listening out for their pursuers. 

It’s wonderful, being with Jo. Until Clive Jones comes along, and the Doctor has to tell her to forget about her and marry the nice young man who can grow old with her and give her the life she wants. 

She drinks more champagne than she is proud of that night. 

Luckily, along comes Sarah Jane Smith, who is exactly the kind of human that the Doctor automatically adores. Inquisitive, sharp, and a vocal feminist. What a woman. 

Of course, then giant alien spiders happen, and it’s time for a change.  

The Fourth Doctor:

Or… not. Apparently, she’s doomed to be young, attractive, humanoid, and pale skinned throughout all her lives. There are worse fates, but she wouldn’t mind a little variety, frankly. And being so small is getting infuriating. 

Harry takes a long while to take her seriously, but once he does, he is steadfastly loyal. Sarah Jane takes the regeneration in stride for the most part. 

And after them, Leela, who is so strange and savage but so utterly charming in her honesty. They share a few kisses, but nothing more. 

Then comes Romana. A young Time Lord who looks older than her, is far taller than is sensible, and has an even more absurd grin. She can’t stand him, with his bragging about his grades and thinking he knows everything. 

She soon teaches him that experience wins every time. 

Of course, then he spots some pretty princess on Tara, and next thing she knows, the moment the whole Key To Time mess is sorted, Romana is now a less taller, less ridiculous, utterly beautiful Time Lady in her first regeneration. 

She tries to argue against what she can only consider body theft, or at least copying, but it is a relief to not have to crane her neck up to speak to her companion. 

Romana becomes a most dear friend. She’s missed being around someone like her, someone who understands. It makes it all the worse when she leaves, leaving the Doctor with only Adric and his incessant questions. 

The Fifth Doctor: 

There’s something about this body, a regality, that commands a little more respect than the ones before it, despite it following the pattern of her others. 

Adric’s questions exasperate her, while Tegan’s demands to be taken home are met with gentle requests for patience and promises of Heathrow airport, and this Traken prince she’s picked up is thankfully one of the most polite people she’s ever had in the TARDIS. Decent brain on him, too. 

Tegan’s smile sometimes makes her stomach do backflips. The Doctor ignores it. She’s learned her lesson. It’s almost a relief to see Tegan reach her breaking point and leave, except it isn’t, because for a long while it feels like a part of her is missing. 

Turlough is a curiosity, but a nice one who makes for surprisingly good company in the absence of the others. 

Perpugilliam Brown is a surprise. The Doctor remembers why she has tried to avoid America where possible in her travels. Americans are loud. But in the case of Peri, it involves shouting at the Master, and as such, the Doctor decides that Perpugilliam Brown can stay as long as she likes. 

Between the two of them and soon Erimem, uncrowned Pharaoh of Egypt, they make quite the team.  


The Sixth Doctor:

It’s about time! Finally, a more weathered model. Peri is surprised to say the least, and seems a little disappointed to lose out on her best friend who had until now looked a very similar age to her, but soon realises very little has changed. 

And now she lets the Doctor take care of her a bit better. Thank goodness for that! The maternal instincts in this body are absurdly strong, she has no idea what she would do if she couldn’t express them. 

Now, the borderline narcissistic but quietly lovable history professor she accidentally picks up some time after losing Peri is a trickier matter. Still, at least he shares her love for chocolate cake. 

The Seventh Doctor: 

Bright, bubbly, and able to get most people to like her within ten seconds. Now this is a regeneration she likes. Plus, her most impressive set of lungs yet. Handy, for calling companions who like to wander off. 

She tries to not encourage Ace’s use of explosives, but it’s difficult when she sees how genuinely happy they make the girl. She’s getting soft in her old age, she knows. 

Still, at least her brain makes up for it. She can out-think a computer, easily. The universe is her chessboard and she’ll do whatever the hell she pleases with it. 

The Eighth Doctor: 

She’s a jolly thing. Always keen for adventure, ready to shout at anyone who deserves it, and just wants to have a good time, really. 

After a rather rocky start involving amnesia and kissing the cardiologist who had caused her regeneration in the first place, the Doctor is just minding her own business when she accidentally messes with history. 

It seems that saving this stowaway on the R101 might not have been the best idea after all. But he’s so charming and sweet and genuine, sharing her utter passion for life, that by the time she realises her mistake, she’s not willing to part with him. 

That goes… about as well as one might expect. 

The Ninth Doctor: 

It’s funny, being a weathered old war veteran with a guilty conscience, and simultaneously looking like someone who could be on the front of a magazine. 

Life is hard, after the time war, but she meets a man with big ears and blue eyes and things get better. A lot better. It feels good to smile again. 

The addition of Captain Jack Harkness is an interesting one, but she’s always said the more the merrier. Their other companion is not quite as happy about this development, but before long they’re the best of friends. 

The Tenth Doctor: 

She’s gentler now, somehow. Oh, she has her anger and her snark, and boy does this body have a set of lungs on her. But she’s so much softer, underneath. 

Losing her friends from her last body takes its toll. She at least manages to avoid comparing Martha to them that came before her. Martha is wonderful, always completing even the most impossible tasks that the Doctor puts to her. They part on good terms, after the Master’s ravaging of the Earth. (The Master had not been so impressed with this version of her. He had trouble seeing the strength within, seeing that she was more than the duality of compassion and shouting.) Martha needs to look after her family, and that’s probably for the best. 

And then there’s the skinny idiot in the suit. He actually talks faster than she does, which is absurd, but she wonders if that’s simply because of his questionable family. Perhaps not letting them get a word in is how he survives. 

Either way, they get along like a house on fire. Losing him, wiping his memory and seeing him stare right through her and smile that stupid smile, is almost enough to break her. 

No more companions, she swears. 


The Eleventh Doctor: 

It’s all about fun, now. Impressing the little boy whose garden she crashes in and then impressing him when he’s grown up and has waited 14 years for her. (To hell with her rule about no more companions. Her old self was full of dumb ideas anyway.) 

Oh yes, she likes Rory Williams a lot. And his best friend John isn’t bad either. Mind you, that nose… 

She has her spaceship, and her boys, and life is good. Well, there’s River Song to worry about, but she can never be sure if the archaeologist is more interested in her or John. Just one more mystery, it seems. 

Losing Rory, and then John, is hard. But she knows that they’re happy, and that’s enough. 

The Twelfth Doctor:

Short, bossy, a control freak, and a slight obsession with tartan. Also, her English teacher companion is secretly a rock star wannabe, disguised as a reclusive Scottish nerd. 

What’s a girl to do? 

(Apparently, find out that her best enemy is alive, and now also female. And Scottish like her companion. The first kiss had been… shocking to say the least. The ones after, against her better judgement, decidedly less so.) 

She cares about her companion more than she will ever say, and when faced with losing him, takes things too far. Further than anyone should ever take anything. And when it is all said and done… she can’t remember his face, or his voice, or how he sounded when he mocked how large her eyes were. 

River is there to comfort her, though, in those 24 years on Darillium. 

And then Bill. Brilliant Bill. Oh yes, they make quite the team. And Nardole helps sometimes too. 

Send me an AU and I’ll expand on it! 

Client is every kind of -ist. Boss isn't having it, gets one client fired, his replacement replaced.

This happened a few weeks ago, and I’m still in awe of my boss, who made it happen. I work as a private security officer for a small but well respected company. The higher-ups are masters at getting contracted for big-name clients and they treat us employees very well.

We had been subcontracted by a larger security firm to run event security for a certain tech company’s event during a certain famous film festival. Some serious money was being thrown around to make this event happen, I was told $75k per day just to rent out the venue, $6 Million worth of equipment, the list goes on. It was a big deal. Our client’s representative, who we’ll call Paulie, was a New York native with a thick Brooklyn accent and wouldn’t have been out of place on the set of The Sopranos. He’d been flown in from his base of operations just to oversee this event. It soon became clear that he was going to cause problems. First off, the agreement between my firm and our client was to provide asset protection, meaning we were to make sure that none of the expensive, yet highly portable electronic equipment went missing. Yet as soon as we got there, Paulie decided to ignore all that and had us working the doors as glorified bouncers. All our previous instructions were to be ignored and Paulie was God. This pissed us off a bit, as we had picked our people with unobtrusive asset protection in mind, but whatever, we’re professionals and we’ll roll with it. Second, Paulie was an a**hole. Everything we did was wrong somehow, even when we did exactly what he wanted us to, we were doing it wrong. He’d berate the poor officer right in front of everyone. He’d change our instructions on a whim and get mad at us for not complying with the new instructions before everyone had a chance to be informed. Third, and arguably worst, Paulie was an -ist of every type. Racist, ageist, sexist, he was the worst. We brought in female officers and he’d inevitably stick them in the most out-of-the-way posts he could to make sure they didn’t have to interact with the tech people. Same went for every officer Paulie thought was over 35. Since we were working 12 hour shifts, we tried to rotate everybody through every post, but he’d take over the rotation and stick the “old” and female officers out of sight. It got to the point where we were seriously considering quitting the contract and we NEVER do that.

Enter my boss. Let’s call him Rick. Rick is ex military and his thing is he Gets Shit Done. Rick, like several of us, is a licensed Private Investigator as well as a Security Officer. Rick is borderline OCD when it comes to keeping records. Rick has hidden cameras. Rick wore a wire and recorded a lot of Paulie’s shit. That shit then hit the fan when Rick passed off supervision of the site to me for the day and went to a meeting with the higher-ups from my company and a conference call with the higher-ups from Paulie’s company, let’s call them D*cks and A**holes Inc, or D&A. The next afternoon, the A in D&A showed up and took Paulie into one of the rooms the tech people had been using for demos earlier that day and spent over an hour yelling at him. One of our people, a female officer with 15 years of experience, who had worked security at the freaking PENTAGON, and who had been shoved in a corner nevertheless heard the whole thing go down, as she was posted outside the door. According to her, Paulie said several stupid things, but the one that stuck out was, “These guys are weak! They’re bringing in freaking GIRLS…!” before being told to shut the hell up. Paulie was fired right there and escorted off the property. The next day, those of us who hadn’t been there to see it were told the whole story and we reveled in the fact that we wouldn’t have to deal with Paulie anymore. Morale, which had been at historically low levels, shot through the roof.

This would be a good place to stop the story, but as the infomercials say, “Wait! There’s more!”

A took over. Remember him? The A**hole in D*cks & A**holes, Inc? He was worse, in different ways. He was just as bad as Paulie, but he was much, much more subtle about it. And, I can’t stress this enough, he was an A**HOLE.

He tried to get me fired for talking to the client, the tech company’s people. The event was winding down by this point, and I had asked the guy in charge of the tech people a question about continuing security needs. Turns out, the tech company was taking their stuff out of the demo rooms and therefore wouldn’t need those rooms secured anymore, so we didn’t need an officer for that post anymore. A was livid that I had spoken to the client without his say-so and that I had “cost us THOUSANDS!” by so doing, which was total bullshit. A went to Rick and yelled at him about it, too. Rick, however, had my back and just shrugged the whole thing off.

This is going long, so I’ll sum up. Rick was eventually forced to employ the same tactics he had used against Paulie and another conference call was made. Turns out, D&A had been bought out by another company, and since A was a founder, he didn’t get fired, but he did get sent home and yet another guy from the bigger company was flown out to oversee the last few days. That guy was pretty cool and we had no further problems.

The icing on the cake is that the tech company had seen all the bullshit my people had been put through and had been impressed with us. We’ve been asked to provide security services for their next event.

8

Now let’s go to sleep, I have a feeling I’ll be late for school tomorrow…

(spoiler alert, she couldn’t even sleep, she squealed in her bed until her alarm went off… and so did he) 

it took me…. so long…… to finish this….. it wasn’t supposed to get this long, holy shit……….

ANYWAY, ANON WHO REQUESTED A REVEAL, I hope you like this… I know this isn’t exactly what you asked for but it’s what i could do. also please pretend you can’t notice i had no idea what i was doing 

EDIT: the text is a bit hard to read, so I wrote it down under the cut: 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hey it's the Disney anon! Yeah I meant sort of live action BATB cause I love the Bucky fic you did😊 So if it's something you'd be happy to write for can I request a reader x gaston fic where they grew up together and she is in love with him but is convinced it isn't mutual & that he deserves better so doesn't tell him. Another guy asks her out & she accepts cause she thinks she should move on if gaston will never love her. But Gaston actually gets super jealous/possessive. Hope it's ok thanks❤

Pairing: Gaston x Reader
Fandom: Disney ; Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Warnings: /

A/N: asdfghjkl, I’m so glad you send me this request, I literally grinned so hard when I got it! I don’t normally post two things a day, but I literally had the easiest time writing this. This prompt gave me so much inspiration that I just typed it in one go and I’m actually quite happy with how it turned out. I hope you like it as well and if you have any other gaston x reader request please send them my way. I LOVE writing for him and the reader. (added Gaston to my fandoms list)

                                                           *****

“You’re staring again,” LeFou, who had seemingly snuck up on you, whispered.

You blinked a few times to break the spell you were under before and turned around, wanting to convince him that, no, you weren’t staring at Gaston like a fool in love. 

But the look he threw you was enough to know that it wouldn’t work on him.

“It’s not like I don’t understand. And I’m certainly not the one to judge you,” he winked at you and you had to laugh a little. “But what I don’t understand is why you don’t tell him. You’ve known each other for so long..”

“Oh LeFou. If only it were so easy. Look at him..-” he was currently chasing Belle again. “He doesn’t feel the same and I doubt he ever will. He needs a woman who cooks for him and plays the good wife. You and me both know that I’m not that kind of woman.”

“Neither is Belle! Which is why he fancies her! So what makes you different?”

“I’m a huntress, LeFou. Belle and me are completely the opposite of each other. If she’s his type then I’m most certainly not.”

“She’s beautiful. That’s why she’s his type. And do I need to remind you of your beauty?”

You sighed and turned around to face your friend, smiling a little, then hugging him.

In the meantime, Gaston gave up for today in chasing Belle and approached the two of you.

Keep reading

Riding Out The Storm

CW: Depression, self-deprecating thoughts, anxiety

Notes: Written for @abstractedthinking who is having a hard time. Just a short little thing. Sorry if it’s a little rough around the edges, I’ve got a pretty bad headache today D:<  

*

Patton hadn’t seen Virgil all day. 

That by itself wasn’t terribly alarming, but then there’d been the anxious side’s behavior before he’d disappeared: withdrawn, uncertain around the others, more likely to shy away from physical contact. The clues were subtle, but Patton had learned to spot them long ago. Combined with his all-day disappearing act, there was no doubt in Patton’s mind: Virgil was having an episode. 

He waited until Logan and Roman had retired for the evening before seeking Virgil. It was always better to confront him when there was less likelihood of being interrupted. He knew Virgil wouldn’t be asleep; he rarely slept anyway, and during the episode, there would be…distractions, keeping him awake. 

Patton’s jaw firmed a little as he climbed the stairs. Distractions, indeed. A familiar curl of anger uncoiled in his gut, but he suppressed it. Now was not the time for his own emotional response; now was the time to be there for Virgil. 

He didn’t knock when he reached the anxious side’s door. But he did pull out the key Virgil had given him, all those months ago. He’d pressed it into Patton’s hand, eyes averted, and mumbled, “Just in case.” 

Patton hadn’t asked ‘in case what.’ He’d suspected he’d know, when the time came to use the key. 

He pushed the key into the lock and opened Virgil’s door, slipping inside and closing it behind him. He blinked, willing his eyes to adjust. “Virgil?” 

A soft whimper met his ears, and he squinted, trying to see through the shadows. They eventually resolved themselves just enough to see the vague lumpy shape of Virgil’s bed–and the dark shape of Virgil, curled up in its center. 

Patton reluctantly let go of the doorknob and stepped into the unnatural black. It wasn’t just the absence of light that made Virgil’s room like this sometimes, he knew, but an invasion of shadows: the darker thoughts, doubts, and fears that Virgil worked so hard to keep from Thomas. 

And he did an amazing job, he really did. But sometimes they overcame him all the same, and he’d confided to Patton, not long ago, that they could hound him for days or even weeks at a time, if no one intervened. 

Patton’s heart had broken, thinking of all the times no one had. Of all the times in the past that Virgil had vanished, and the’yd all chalked it up to the anxious side simply being ‘emo,’ or ‘broody.’ Not once had any of them thought to check on him–to find out if he needed help. 

Guilt tried to choke Patton’s throat and pushed, burning, at the back of his eyes. We left him alone for so long, he thought sorrowfully. He suffered so much, and it was our fault. My fault. I could’ve–

NO. 

Patton’s mouth twisted into a silent snarl, and he forced the thoughts from his mind. The shadows were subtle, but he’d learned to recognize them, when they began to work at him. And he’d learned ways to resist.  

Virgil. Focus on Virgil. Guilt doesn’t matter. Yes, I made mistakes, but they’re in the past. They don’t matter now.

(…you left him to suffer, you ignored him, you hurt him, you…)

–won’t make the same mistake twice.

The voices relented some, sullen, and Patton nodded, satisfied he’d shut them up for the time being. He moved forward, doing his best to ignore the vague, ominous hissing as the shadows slithered past him, trying to coil around his limbs. He clenched his fists and focused his attention on his goal: Virgil. He thought, clear and confident, I am going to get to Virgil. I am going to comfort Virgil. I am going to reach my son. 

The shadows hissed angrily, furious at his steadfast resolve, but it was enough: they retreated a little. Enough for Patton to catch a glimpse of Virgil, sitting wide-eyed and curled in on himself, tears streaking his face and hands clamped to his ears as he tried to drown out the voices. Patton’s heart broke again, and he eased himself onto the mattress in front of the anxious side, reaching out to touch his arm gently. 

Virgil started, badly, drawing away and staring at Patton. For a moment there was no recognition in his eyes–just horror, fear, and a kind of desperate despair–but after a few moments, he blinked, and his eyes cleared just a little. 

“P-pat–Dad?” he said, and his voice broke badly on the single syllable word. There was so much hope in that word, but so much fear, too–that Patton might not be real, that he might simply be a figment conjured by the shadows, sent to torment him further. 

“Yeah, kiddo,” Patton murmured, giving Virgil the brightest smile he could in an effort to dispel those doubts. “I’m here.” 

Virgil stared for only a moment longer before flinging himself forward, launching himself into Patton’s arms and whimpering as fresh tears spilled onto his cheeks. 

“Dad,” he sobbed. “I’m…scared. Dad, I’m so scared.” 

“I know, kiddo. I know,” Patton whispered, wrapping Virgil up tight in his arms and cupping the back of his head. He felt his own tears threatening once more, and this time he let them fall. He pressed a kiss to Virgil’s hair, then another, and another. He began to rock him back and forth, soothing him, even as the oppressive weight of the shadows tried to bear down around them. 

“They–th-they say you guys don’t really…c-care about me,” Virgil whimpered into Patton’s neck. “They s-s-say you’re just buh-being nice…th-they…” 

“They’re lying,” Patton said firmly, but gently. It was, after all, no good scolding Virgil for these thoughts and fears: he didn’t ask for them, and he didn’t want to believe them, either. “They’re telling you lies. We love you very much.” 

It took a few more repetitions of those gentle reminders before Virgil finally calmed down, and the shadows retreated a little bit more. Not completely–Patton knew they might not go for hours yet–but they did at least withdraw a little, leaving the pair of them with some breathing room. 

Virgil sighed, ducking his head and hiding it under Patton’s chin. “I’m s-sorry,” he whispered. “I…I know y-you must get…tired of dealing with all of this…”

“Hey. No,” Patton murmured, drawing back far enough to take Virgil’s face between his hands, easing his head up to look at Patton. “Never,” he said firmly, stroking Virgil’s cheeks with his thumbs and brushing away the tears. “I only wish you didn’t have to go through this, Virgil. But I’ll ride it out with you every time. And I’ll never get tired of reminding you just how much you’re loved.” He smiled and tapped Virgil’s nose with his thumb, then bent to press a kiss in the same spot. “Okay, bugaboo?” 

Virgil smiled. It wasn’t a solid smile; it wavered, like a reflection in a pool of water whose surface had been disturbed by drops of rain or a casually tossed stone. But it was there. And it was a start.

“Okay,” Virgil whispered.  

Patton leaned down again and kissed Virgil’s forehead firmly. “I’m proud of you, Virgil. I love you.” 

Virgil drew a shaky breath. “Love you too, Dad,” he whispered, curling in closer and wrapping his arms around Patton’s waist. 

And Patton held him that way until dawn, whispering gentle praises and words of love and support and comfort until the shadows finally began to abate, and Virgil drifted, at last, to sleep in Patton’s arms. 

1 | Red Skies

BTS WEREWOLF AU 
WORD COUNT: 3,030 
sorry

warnings: violence, blood, bruises and gore, talk of kidnapping

Originally posted by dangerously-jamless

masterlist | ask | next


What seemed like an average day of you being spoken to like a piece of shit, turned out to be everything but normal. One minute you were walking home from work, a part time job at the local diner, you only worked weekends so you still had time to study for exams during the week. Then the next thing you knew, everything was black, cold and deafeningly quiet. Empty.

After what seemed like an entire eternity of being lost in the emptiness; the light came back, vastly brighter than usual, stinging your eyes as you tried to adjust to your surroundings. Sounds were thicker, heavier, weighing down your ears as they gave you a pounding headache, and the slightest smells became much more intense, burning your nose as you inhaled.

Just what exactly had happened to you?

Glancing around you could gather it was the early hours of the morning, you’d left work pretty late but the indigo sky was now a dark crimson red and the full moon threatened to escape the blanket of clouds that tried to shield it from sight. Managing to bring yourself to your feet you pulled yourself together and started to walk home, deciding it would be best to wait until you were inside the safety of your walls before you tried to figure out what on earth had happened.

During the walk you couldn’t help but feel on edge. The only thing keeping you sane was the fact the sky was such a beautiful colour, you’d never seen a red sky up close before, only on badly photoshopped desktop backgrounds at university, it was mesmerising. Chilly air whirled around your frame, earning a continuous shudder from your body. Travelling in the same direction you began walking through an empty field, a short cut you always took. A sharp ill-disposed pain made itself known on your left leg, close to your ankle. The manager at the diner you worked in was extremely misogynistic, so you were forced to wear a white button down blouse and short mini skirt with bare legs, to ‘receive more tips from customers’. The uniform had only ever caused you grief, but it did ensure you were able to get a clear look at the source of your discomfort.

Keep reading

R: Their s/o calls them during a breakdown while they’re busy.

Requested by anonymous:

Could you do bts reaction when their gf call them while they’re in practice/studio abd cry (breakdown) in the line and asking them to come home bc they’re her only family and how they’ll handle the situation?

A/N: I love suffering :) got nothing else to say, enjoy !

!! REQUESTS ARE CLOSED !!

Keep reading

Dionysus (m)

Originally posted by jeonmp3

words: 6,745

request: Teasing Jimin to the brink and dom!Y/N.

genre: smut, fluff, and some sort of sugar daddy thing.

summary: Park Jimin’s a god amongst men but you’re certain even gods can bow down.

a/n: I wrote a Tae smut called Icarus like 5 years ago and then was suddenly hit with inspiration to make Greek mythology inspired fics for the rest of the boys. So, you can say it’s kind of a thing now. P.S. here’s dat Jimin smut I kept promising @sleevelessparkjimin @helloblamebts @jiminniejuseyo

Keep reading

Lost Light Apartment Careers
  • Rodimus: Police officer. Trying to work his way up to being captain. Think's he'll never be as good as Orion Pax. Is correct.
  • Minimus: Police officer, a sergeant who doesn't stop working and won't accept a report if it isn't absolutely perfect.
  • Prowl: Police Officer, Detective, partners with Chromedome. One of the best detectives in the precinct, but not very well liked. Has gone through many partners due to everyone's hatred towards him. They usually end up requesting a new partner. Chromedome is his latest one, and everyone bets on how long he'll last.
  • Springer: Police officer, currently captain. A bit tense and doing his best to remember what Kup taught him. Makes some mistakes but is a good captain.
  • Chromedome: Police officer, transferred to a new precinct so he can be closer and live with Rewind. Only moved in with his boyfriend recently. A bit weirded out by Prowl.
  • Rewind: Data Analyst, loves his job more than anything and will analyze data out of work. Records everything, much to everyone's annoyance.
  • Whirl: Security guard/bouncer. Will fuck you up. Has gotten fired for starting bar fights, and not stopping them like she's supposed to. Lets underage people in clubs, even though she can tell when somoene has a fake ID.
  • Megatron: Used to be the leader of a gang, ex-hitman ect. Should be in jail, and thinks his gang has scattered and is no more, unfortunately, this is not the case. Now has picked up a job as an English teacher at a public school. Refuses to give up information to the cops about his gang, even though it's a case they haven't been able to solve in years.
  • Drift: What does he do? How does he get so much money? No one knows.
  • Ratchet: Head surgeon at the local hospital, also owns a clinic near the apartment block that offers free medical care to those who can't afford it. He works A LOT. Spends more time at the clinic and the hospital than he does at home.
  • Tarn: Took over as leader of the gang after Megatron left. Has much rage at Megatron's abandonment, and is looking for him everywhere. Will not stop if anyone gets in his way. Lots of white collar crime, and will plan heists and kill/torture people for money.
  • Pharma: Is almost equal to Ratchet in rank, but not quite. Is incredibly resentful about it because he thinks he is the better doctor. Scoffs at Ratchet's medical clinic, and spends most of his time at the hospital, or secretly hooking up with Tarn. And sneaking out organs and other body parts to give to the DJD.
  • Sideswipe: Translator and businessman, owns the building. Travels a lot for work, and can speak a lot of languages because of it. Usually, brings Sunstreaker with him when he travels. Dropped out of high school to pursue career, and it worked out quite well.
  • Sunstreaker: Freelance artist. Has illustrated for books and done animations, but loves paintings murals.
  • Skids: Still studying at university, has multiple majors. Gets perfect scores in them all. Could probably graduate uni early, but he enjoys learning. Has a job as a cashier to bring in cash for rent. Also roommates with Nautica, who's also studying and works as a cashier alongside him.
  • Fortress Maximus: Doesn't have a job yet, living off government compensation.
  • Perceptor: Scientist. Metallurgy and electrical engineering. Loves his job, and spends most of his time working.
  • Brainstorm: Weapons engineer. A literal Tony Stark. Wants to work with Perceptor, but gets rejected every time. Has also gotten kicked out for trying to sneak into Perceptors lab. Develops new and dangerous weapons, but keeps the most dastardly ones for himself.
  • Cosmos: Astronomer.
  • Waspinator: Unemployed. Hovers around and lives in the alley.
  • Soundwave: Used to be a part of Megatron's gang, but abandoned it as well. Now works as a computer software engineer.
  • Swerve: Works a bartender, trying to save up to open his own bar. Is failing, always ends up spending saved up money on drinks, video games or excessive amounts of junk food.
  • Rung: Psychologist. Most of his patients are also his neighbors. Likes to volunteer his time at public schools to lend proper help to struggling students
  • Cyclonus: History professor at the local university. Hates all her students. Scariest teacher ever.
  • Tailgate: Quit her job as a garbage woman, and is currently looking to either study, or find a job that doesn't involve cleaning up trash.
  • ____
  • If I missed anyone just pop them in my ask and I'll answer it : )
I hate you │6

Originally posted by kuromel

summary:  Jungkook breaks your heart
member: Jeon Jungkook x reader
genre: fluff, romance, angst 
word count: 2.5k
warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook badboy!Jungkook
I hate you Masterlist 123 4 5 6 7 (ongoing)

A/N: Thank you, everyone, for your support and encouragement, I really don’t deserve you, “I hate you 5″ hit  250+ likes. Hopefully, this part even though it’s just a filler will not disappoint you either. The next one is going to be juicier and will take awhile, so I’ll post it by 08.07.2017. P.S don’t hesitate to message me anytime, I love reading your feedback! (good or bad)

“You should go with us, it’ll be fun”-Ava told you as she tried on yet another dress

“I don’t want to be a third wheel, just leave me out this once, I won’t be mad”-you replied to her when she invited you to go to a party with her and Jimin.

“Don’t be stupid, there will be plenty other people you know, you never get to hang out with them, now you have a chance”

“I know that I just don’t want it to get awkward, especially after you ditched me to go with Jimin twice in a row”-you teased Ava

“Well, I apologized for that, but it wasn’t planned, it happened spontaneously, both times”-said Ava with slight shame for leaving you alone still apparent in her voice. You decided going to the party was worth a shot, especially because you desperately wanted to see Jungkook. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I saw that you opened requests in a recent post so here's mine. If it isn't then feel free to ignore it. RFA+Saeran react to an MC who lost her glasses and can't see anything because she's as blind as a bat? Love your recent headcannons and keep up the good work!

Thanks! Enjoy these~


Zen:

  • You woke up and couldn’t find them anywhere
  • But you didn’t have work that day so you didn’t think it much of a big deal
  • Neither did Zen before you tried fixing the side of his coat with a sharp tug…only to realize that it was his ponytail
  • But then he just tells you that he’ll be your eyes until you find your glasses
  • It’s fine for the simpler things
  • Then you two are getting ready to go out and you’re putting on your make up
  • Your lip liner and eyeliner sticks looked very similar, and the labels were faded
  • In your rush, you ask if one of them was your lip liner
  • He’s getting ready too, so he just glances and nods
  • Next thing you know, you have a streak of black on the edge of your lip
  • He just thinks it’s better to find your glasses at that point

Yoosung:

  • You woke up to Yoosung already gone for work and your glasses missing
  • It was going to be a long day, but you decided just to continue with your plans
  • You wanted to cook Yoosung a meal before he got home, so you found the recipe and carefully prepped so the ingredients were right
  • But that didn’t help your depth perception and aim
  • Before you could even finish, you had a lot of burn marks, small cuts, and a lot of ingredients that missed the pot
  • You got frustrated so you went to find your back-up pair
  • Not only were they the wrong prescription, but they also somehow broke right down the middle
  • You ended up looking for your regular pair through one lens that you were holding to your face
  • Yoosung comes home to find the couch cushions flipped up and furniture moved everywhere
  • “Is it blanket fort night?”
  • He also gets a small laugh when you look at him through your makeshift monocle
  • He starts laughing harder because he’s the one who put them away last night
  • “I thought you would go crazy looking for them, so I put them in the drawer last night,” he says before looking around at the mess. “I guess that didn’t help, huh?”

Jaehee:

  • You couldn’t find your glasses and the cafe opened in less than an hour
  • So you insisted that you could just work without them
  • Jaehee didn’t know how blind you actually were so she let you do it
  • But she started to see when you almost put salt in coffee instead of sugar because you couldn’t read the labels
  • She was running after you all day trying to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself or mix something up
  • Eventually, she just told you to take orders and she’d make them
  • It was great until an equally as blind customer showed up
  • “Can you tell me what’s after the latte?”
  • You squint at the menu, “Uhh….yeah, can’t help you there.”
  • It’s a long day, but you come home without any huge disasters
  • You reach for the cereal box on top of the fridge…and find your glasses neatly folded on top
  • Jaehee is calm for a second before she starts yelling at you
  • “Why are they on the fridge?!”

Jumin:

  • Your glasses weren’t in the place where you usually put them
  • Which was bad considering you and Jumin had a fancy dinner to go to with some important people
  • And you couldn’t exactly get ready or survive the night without them
  • This leads you both into a frenzy as you search the entire penthouse
  • When the maid stops in, Jumin ends up recruiting her too to help find them
  • Both of your nerves are really strung high
  • After a few hours, you just decide to use your emergency ones
  • Which lasts you for the next day…until they disappear again
  • You have one last pair of emergency ones, but even those disappear within the week
  • You and Jumin are very confused and actually worried about someone stealing them
  • Until one day he goes over to pet a purring Elizabeth, and he finds her cuddled up to all three pairs of your glasses
  • You have to start putting your glasses in a place she can’t reach after that


Seven:

  • You were taking a nap on the couch and you fell asleep
  • Seven passed by and took off your glasses so you wouldn’t crush them in your awkward position
  • But he was feeling a bit mischievous so he went and hid them
  • He even sets up little traps around the floor that you might trip over–nothing dangerous though
  • When you wake up and look for them, he acts super innocent and even pretends to look with you
  • He’s trying to hold back laughter every time you fall into one of the traps
  • Eventually, he brings them out pretending to find them
  • He holds them out of your reach and tells you that you have to pay him with a kiss if you want them back
  • He forgets that you’re still partially blind and your depth perception is off
  • You end up ramming your head into his nose while trying to reach for the glasses and give him a peck
  • You felt bad until you found out it was his fault in the first place

Saeran:

  • You were constantly losing your glasses, and Saeran was constantly helping you look for them
  • So this time, you didn’t want to tell him that you misplaced them
  • You told him you were wearing contacts for the day
  • He started having his suspicions when you kept ramming your knee on the same corner table
  • You two were watching some foreign cooking show and he looked away for a sec
  • “Hey, what did the subtitles say? I didn’t catch that.”
  • You sweat nervously having blanked out yourself, “Uh…they’re making something with flies.”
  • Turns out it was pies, but you can’t really see the “P”
  • It’s at this point that he figures it out
  • Now that the secret it out, you go look for them
  • After a lot of blind patting around, you beg Saeran to help you
  • He doesn’t move from his place on the couch, getting tired of you losing them so often
  • When he spots them, he just gives you a vague description where they are
  • You keep going to the wrong spot though, and you’re getting more irritated
  • He’s really lucky you can’t see the smirk on his face

Check out our other headcanons~ Masterlist

anonymous asked:

Leo I'm sort of afraid that even S1 Shiro isn't our shiro. The thing is we never see him mention home or family at all. For someone who spent a year tortured at the hands of the galra and landed back on earth, I'd think he'd ask if his family thinks he's still dead or something. Why else remove his arm? Genetic material I tell you. And it's almost suspicious how the white tuft of hair is RIGHT above the centre for memory storage/processing.

I feel like that’s not some definitive proof he’s a clone though? And I mean, honestly? There are plenty of people who don’t feel that attachment to their family, you know? Not everyone had good parents. Abusive families exist. Neglectful families exist. Blood doesn’t always flow thicker than water and some people know that firsthand. If I could go on intergalactic space adventures and the tradeoff was I’d never see my family again, I’d be like “Great! When do I start?” And Shiro’s at the Galaxy Garrison. There’s a fair amount of people who sign up for the military just as a way to get out of a bad family situation, that’s not uncommon.

The fact that Shiro brought Keith to the Kerberos launch says a lot. To Shiro, that is his family, the closest person he is, the one he wants to spend his last moments on Earth with. That says a lot. 

There’s also another possibility about why he wouldn’t want to see his family again that I’ve discussed before, so I’ll just copy it here:

Shiro’s behavior is bizarrely abnormal, there’s just no way to account for that kind of response unless Shiro was either already distant from his family or absolutely dreading going home–and this is also very possible, as Shiro’s changed, he’s not the person he was before. He has his trauma, his PTSD–he believes the galra have turned him into a monster

He has to go home and try to explain why he was gone so long and lost his crew and has only one arm and his hair’s gone white. So maybe Shiro’s just terrified because all sense of normalcy would be gone and there’s no sense trying to return to it. Shiro’s not like Lance, Hunk, or Pidge–he can’t just go back. But as understandable as that would be, I more so think that Shiro doesn’t have very much to return to in the first place.

That fact that Shiro thinks back to the Kerberos launch in episode 2 is interesting. If he had no attachments to memories of his prior life, I don’t see why his last day on Earth–and time with Keith–would be significant to him. The fact that he thinks back to that and not his parents or something just tells me it’s a matter of not wanting to see his family. There’s nothing wrong with that. 

Also, while removing Shiro’s arm could have been where they got his genetics from, it wasn’t the only reason they took it. We have to remember that to the galra, boosts of quintessence and mechanical augmentations are seen as “improvements” and “gifts.” It’s an honor and it’ll make you stronger. They were trying to turn Shiro into their “greatest weapon.” That’s why his hand works differently and is so much more intricately designed than Kuron’s–they didn’t want to waste the real thing on a clone (only the palm lights up instead of the whole arm)

Moreover, the galra weren’t done with Shiro yet. On the day Ulaz helped him escape, he was meant to undergo another surgery. Something that he himself is very confused about–“You already took my hand. What more do you want?” I think it’s likely they were either trying to complete his transformation into a robeast or finish up the cloning process. But that far back, there’s no mention of Operation Kuron. This idea of planting a clone in Team Voltron hasn’t been implemented yet. And why would it? This is before Shiro becomes a paladin. They had no way of knowing he’d ever pilot one of the Lions. 

As for the quintessence, I think it’s understandable his hair started turning white from overexposure (his arm seems to run on it). But also, the only other thing ever referred to as the “greatest weapon” in the universe is Voltron. And initially, they needed Voltron to open up the rift and consume more quintessence. Throughout the empire’s expansion, they continued to gather more and more quintessence–which is why they started sapping it from entire planets. 

So anyway, if they couldn’t have Voltron, I think they were trying to work out some sort of workaround. And Shiro became their “greatest weapon” because maybe he was supposed to reopen the rift. This would also account for the excess of quintessence exposure that turned his hair white. Haggar must have put him through a lot of experiments. 

Initially, I feel like the clone was just a backup. A way to salvage Haggar’s investment. Then they found out there were other uses for him. So yeah, I still think seasons 1-2 Shiro is Takashi. 

Beginnings Must Be Clean: Why KOTOR’s Darkside Ending Is Most In Line With The Philosophy Of Star Wars

So, right off the bat, let’s establish something: I am not nor will I ever claim that the darkside playthrough is the morally correct choice. Darth Revan is a violent dictator. The darkside ending is evil, unequivocally, full stop. This is NOT a post going “Revan is just misunderstood!!! The Jedi are the REAL bad guys!!!edgy!”

I never said that the darkside decisions were right, better, or morally defensible. I said the darkside ending, the story told by the darkside ending, is infinitely more thematically consistent. 

Why is this? Well, let’s take a look at what are, in my opinion, the three major recurring themes in all Star Wars media. (Note: “Good vs Evil” is not going to count here; I’m talking about the major themes used to ILLUSTRATE the major, overarching premise of the battle between good and evil.) So what are those themes?

Keep reading

Goodbye [Ray/Reader]

A Ray/Gender-Neutral MC Fic

Total word count: 5597

Summary: You are struggling with coming to terms over Ray’s fate in Another Story.. Unexpectedly, you are visited by him one last time.

“I needed to see you again, even if this will be the last time.”


It was so warm.

It felt as though the sun was pressing its rays ever so gently against your skin. Although the warmth was inviting you to partake in the new day, you couldn’t help but sigh in content while snuggling deeper into the comforter. You wondered if you had drawn back the blinds the previous night. Strangely enough, you couldn’t seem to remember if you had. However, even having been awakened by that loving caress of daybreak, you didn’t dare to open your eyes. It felt too pleasant being tucked into your bedding where you felt the most comfortable. At least there, you could pretend that everything was alright.

But the longer you remained there, the more the tragic memories that took place not that long ago seemed to flood your mind like a horrible disease. It spread violently beginning from the tips of your fingers and toes and steadily started to creep ever so slowly toward your heart. It was painful. Each passing second only allowed those dark emotions to grow stronger as they greedily fed off of your crippled mental state. You felt yourself being forced to remember that which you tried to forget.

The emotions you had felt as the news reached your ears crippled your body causing your form to come crashing down to the earth as a mournful wail echoed through the night. His last text messages you had pored over again and again on your tear-stained phone trying to find the reason why he chose that path. His every word that had been gently formed as though he were afraid you would shatter instead of himself as he finally conveyed his true feelings of love through your shared final phone call to one another. The many unfulfilled promises of dates, hugs, and of kisses that would never be…

Everything…

Keep reading

Sharing Isn't Caring

“Could you just a jealous Happy imagine?🙈”

Fastening your gold high heels, you wiggle your freshly painted toes, the metallic paint shining back at you. You walk to the long length mirror, assessing your appearance and making sure everything was perfect. The red dress you were wearing showed all of your curves off beautifully, your ass looking particularly plump.

A knock on the door makes you jump, before you grab your clutch from the chair, triple checking your hair one last time and opening the door. “So? Will it do?”

Happy’s eyes roam up and down your body, causing you to smirk. Tonight, you were working for the club, sweetening some deal with an investor that the club needed. Being the good old lady you are, you agreed pretty much straight away, accepting that you couldn’t be given too many details just yet.

Even though you were completely fine with doing this, your fiancé took a little more convincing, not wanting any man to even think he had a chance with you, let alone spend a whole evening with you.

“I should just take you here, right now.“ he growls, his hands grabbing at your hips and pulling you towards him. “This job is bullshit.”

You smirk in response, placing your hands upon his face and bringing his lips to yours, trying to reassure him through the kiss. Nibbling playfully at his bottom lip, you pull away, hunger in his eyes. “It’s just a job, baby. I’m all yours.”

“Don’t you fucking forget it.” he warns, his insecurities being hidden by his dominant tone. Smiling lovingly at your man, you entwine your fingertips with his, the two of you heading downstairs.

“You look beautiful.” You squeeze his hand at the compliment, wishing you could just stay here, lost between the sheets with Happy.

You walk into the living room, being welcomed with whistles and hollers from Jax, Tig, Chibs and Juice. You feel your man stiffen up in anger, him pulling his hand out of yours and sitting down, a murderous look on his face. Rolling your eyes, you grin. “Thanks, guys. We all set?”

Jax looks around to the other members, them nodding in confirmation as they all stand, Juice and Tig walking past you, squeezing your shoulder in encouragement as they leave.

“Tig and Juice are going to ride ahead, stake the place out just to make sure it’s all good.” Jax explains, your mind racing with ideas of what could go wrong. He must notice the change in your expression, a reassuring grin slipping onto his lips. “It’s just a precaution, darlin’. We’ll look after you.”

Nodding, you blow out a deep breath, telling yourself to calm down. “Me and Hap are driving you there, and we’ll walk you in and introduce you. You good?”

“Yep, I’m good.” you reply, looking at your sulking partner on the sofa. Jax follows your gaze, sympathy on his face as he looks at his brother. Happy stands, refusing to meet your eye, and nods once at his brother, leaving without even acknowledging you.

“He’ll be fine.” Jax starts, his hands resting on your shoulders comfortingly. “It’s gonna be hard for him to watch, we’d all be the same. Thank you for this, (Y/N).”

Sighing deeply, you stare at the door Happy just left out of. “I’m happy to help. I just hope he understands that.”

“That sounds awful.” you laugh, taking a sip from the fruity alcohol in your glass. Tony, the man you were trying to persuade, grimaces at the memory.

“Believe me, sweetheart, it was.” You were actually having quite a good time, the sleazeball you were expecting actually turning out to be a pretty decent guy. Although, you found it hard to focus, Happy glaring at Tony’s back so harshly you were surprised he hadn’t dropped dead.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to powder my nose.” you state sweetly, grabbing your purse and heading towards the toilets.

You’ve barely washed your hands when you hear a light knock on the bathroom door, your heels clicking on the floor as you walk, pulling open the door. “Juice?”

“Jax told me to come get you, it’s time to go.” he explains, your eyebrow raised in confusion. You’d barley eaten your starter, how was it already sorted?

“Oh, christ,” you groan, your head shaking in disbelief as you solve the puzzle yourself. “Happy?”

Juice chuckles nervously, not wanting to land his brother in the dog house, but not wanting to lie to you either. Looking across to the table you were sitting at just minutes before, you see its been vacated, a few notes left on top to clear the barely there bill. “Let’s just say Happy made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

Juice leads you outside, his hand on your back protectively as you move past wandering eyes. Once you reach the outside, you catch eyes with your dumb ass boyfriend, giving him no expression. “Take me home, Jax.”

You hear low whistles as you shut the door, Happy telling his brothers to shut up as they wish him luck, your wrath having its own reputation.

“Babe?” you roll your eyes as you take off your makeup, the apologetic voice behind you being one you know oh too well. Enjoying the effect your silent treatment is having, you move past Happy, plugging in your phone and placing it on your bedside table.

“I’m sorry for ruining the fun you were having with that slimy prick.” Happy growls, jealously dripping from his words. Scoffing, you walk up to your man, pointing your finger at him accusingly.

“Don’t you dare try and make me feel guilty, Hap.” you scold, his harsh eyes softening as you tell him off. Folding your arms, you try to stay serious, wanting Happy to know he’s not going to get off the hook so easily. “It’s not my fault you can’t control your jealousy. All I wanted to do was help, do my bit for the club.”

“You did, I just sped up the process.” Happy argues, smirking at you, your hard shell cracking at his playful demeanor. You hit his chest warningly, a sigh leaving you.

“I wanted to do this, Hap, prove my loyalty to you and SAMCRO.” you explain, pulling him by his arm and pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed. He pulls the front of your shirt, spreading his legs for you to stand between, his hands resting on your hips.

“You got nothing to prove, baby girl. Club loves you, I love you. You’re family now.” His fingers squeeze at your skin as he talks, your own fiddling with the neckline of his leather kutte.

Locking your arms around his neck, you straddle Happy’s lap, his touch slipping under your shirt as he traces soothing circles, goosebumps appearing on your body. “What am I going to do with you?”

He grins at your statement, knowing he’s back on your good side - not that he ever left - as he falls back on the bed, bringing you down with him. His grip slips south as you bring your lips down to his, squealing into the kiss as he roughly squeezes your ass.

Pulling back, you tease the man beneath you, hovering over him but not letting his lips connect back to yours. “I love you, you protective bastard.”

He smirks, knowing that despite his uncontrollable jealousy, you’d never want him any other way.

Originally posted by bringmesomeanarchy

A/N - I find it so easy to write about Happy, I feel like he’s got so many layers to him, so many different personalities. What a daddy😂😍

pomrania  asked:

Is there anything you can tell me about Mando colour symbolism that isn't already on that "armour colour" post? I'm planning out a Sabine POV story where it would be relevant.

Well, yes and no. I went over the “facts” of colors and mandalorian color theory. What I can do now is kind of dig deeper into the actual mando’a words for colors, and maybe extrapolate more on the etymology of each word as they’re relevant to colors. If anything, it’ll give you an idea of how to break down the colors and maybe play with the meanings, or even the construction of the words themselves. Hopefully that helps?

I got a little carried away (again?) so I apologize for the length and time it took to put this together … and also you can take everything I say with a grain of salt as I’m trying to make sense of the etymology of these words. I’m also skipping orange as there’s no word for in the dictionary as of yet, and including violet since it is.

So, let’s go in the order that I went in the original post. Forewarning that black is going to be the longest section as I’ve thought about it maybe way too much.

  • ne’tra — black 

Ne’ is traditionally one of the negative prefixes of mando’a. It’s meant to indicate the opposite of what it’s attached to, or the not-thing. Tra means space, void … but it also translates to starfield, or field of stars. 

So. Black. Justice. Not the void of space, or, alternatively, Without stars, a starless night. 

However way you want to interpret that is up to you, but to me? From what I understand of mandalorian history? They were once a truly nomadic people, who voyaged across the stars. They were, arguably, wayfinders. More than just warriors, or conquerors, or however most would like to put it.

I originally wasn’t going to do this, but because you mentioned (elsewhere) that you’re focusing on dusk, I want to take a moment to extrapolate on this thought. The reason I say this is because of how they view stars. 

Mandalorians are generally not considered to be religious. But the language they speak is still very deeply steeped in poetic concepts — grasping at the enormous and unthinkable with words as clever and broad as a people can attempt to embody them. Stars is my personal favorite.

Ka’ra — stars, ruling council of fallen leaders. Mandalorians still speak of those who pass as not being dead, but marching far far away. The origin of the word stars is the belief that the Mand’alore ascend to the stars, to watch over the people and to guide them.

The word for breath is kar’am. Hyperdrive is karbakar (star to star). Kar’ta is heart. Kar’taylir is awareness, knowledge, lit. to hold in the heart. Karyai is the main communal living room of a communal home, where a family convenes to spend time together — and often the last bastion against an invasion.

Jate’kara, luck, destiny, literally good stars, a course to steer by. 

All of these words stem from stars.

Black, the color, is literally a starless night. But, while the impulse is to go for something negative, I would actually pull away from that. Mandalorians, in general, also view adversity (something difficult, something terrible, something terrifying) as something to challenge and overcome as a way of life. A starless night is not to be feared but to be met

A starless night may also be indicative, poetically, of a place or a people or an event without justice. And that void, that emptiness, that lack? Must be filled. Whomsoever wears black has taken it upon themselves to fill a void and reinstate justice in whatever manner that may mean.

But also consider: a night without stars evokes a specific sort of image and feeling … which may also be completely different depending on the person in question. Someone who lives in a bright city and experiences light pollution would be used to a night without stars, versus someone living out in the wild (like Krownest) or who is dependent on the stars to travel, would be used to a night full of stars and may find it distressing or strange.

  • ve’vut — gold

This one is a little less straightforward. Vut, or vutyc, indicates special. Unique, precious. Ve’ (pronounced vay or veh) is unclear as to what it’s meant to indicate, but often when we see ve’ as a prefix, it’s usually from ven (future tense), but in this case it may be from vheh, earth, soil, dirt. 

Gold. Vengeance. A precious future, or, precious metal.

Maybe evocative of the sun rising after a long and difficult night. The gold of the sun rising is a promise of a future — or at the very least, the feeling of surviving to tomorrow. This might be too poetic though lmao, and tbh … I really like the simplicity and the directness of precious metal (lit. special dirt, lmao).

The funny thing here is that though I have gold and yellow listed together for meaning (as they are, generally, considered under the same banner of Vengeance), the word for yellow is different.

  • shi'yayc — yellow

So. I’m not really a fan of this word, to be perfectly honest with you. I’m of the opinion this is less an actual color and more an adjective meant to describe something else. But regardless, here it is.

From shi, just/only, and yayc, which may be from oyayc, meaning alive (or oya! which carries many meanings and generally overwhelmingly positive). Generally though, with the yc added to the end, it’s less a noun and more an adjective, so it might actually be meant to be a descriptor (ie. yellowing of skin or eyes etc)

Yellow. Vengeance. Only just alive, or barely dead.

Maybe comparison to, say, a recently deceased person — but that only really works if one assumed that all dead persons are pale and turn yellow when they die, and that’s a weird assumption to make in the context of mandalorians.

Also consider: yellow is dull compared to the shine of a metallic gold. Less intense in that way. My question is what becomes of a person after they’ve enacted vengeance? What becomes of a life devoid of a perpetual motivating force like that? What happens when gold loses its sheen and fades, dulls? 

Am I just taking this too far, to the next level it doesn’t need to go? maybe


EDIT:: w/ points from anon through a later ask, I’d like to also add what they said: 

you pondered about the connotations of yellow regarding ‘just/barely alive’ and its comparison to gold. I thought maybe it’s about flames/light - like a bright vivid flame is a bright gold, while the flame, when it’s only small and ->barely alive<- has more of a dull and yellowish shine. 

I hadn’t even consider that it might have been referencing intensity of light/fire? But the way you put it, that may actually make more sense than the direction I was going in. I was definitely perplexed somewhat, like I was missing something. This sounds like what I was missing.

That could also apply for the heat of a flame, too. Like, referring to the intensity of the light, or the intensity of the heat, or both, depending entirely on context, and related to the below.


  • Lust for life

So, there’s no word for orange in mando’a at this time.

Consider: Yellow is sometimes indicated to also mean lust for life, depending on who you ask and what source material you’re comparing it to.

It’s entirely possible that mandalorians don’t have a way to differentiate between yellow and orange. Some cultures do display a limitation in language, seeing what we would consider a range (yellow to orange) as all one spectrum under the same banner.

So while Yellow may mean barely alive/barely dead, yellow may also mean nothing but life.

Something to think about.

  • genet — gray

Gray/Silver. Mourning lost love.

Ge’ for almost, by proximity (literally or metaphorically). Net, we can assume, comes from the word for black, ne’tra. So, in this case, gray is literally almost black, but not quite. Reaching towards it, maybe, but not quite there.

I’ve used overcast before to describe gray, or the feeling of a loss, of grief, and it still applies here. Almost, not quite, as a starless night sky. Duller, paler, than a starfield. That kind of thing—perpetually in comparison to black.

Also consider that it may infer obscuring the target, instead of almost reaching black, it may act like a filter, a translucent overlay to take away or obscure intensity of (in this case from black, or night sky). Mandalorians, who are (or once was) so used to navigating by/the stars, suddenly having to deal with their guidance obscured? There’s loss, there, too.

  • kebiin — blue

This one’s a little … less straightforward. Ke’ is used as an imperative prefix, usually to indicate that this word/sentence is a command, but keb may also come from kebbur, meaning to try or make an attempt. Biin, or bii, may come from abiik, air (interestingly, kebii’tra indicates sky, so it’s literally blue starfield, blue space).

What is reliable? What is faithful? Following through, or making the attempt again and again—someone consistent, trustworthy. To stretch the meaning, as trustworthy as the air. 

Blue. Reliability. Faithful. As consistent, or trustworthy, as the air.

I wonder if that was ever a phrase in use. “As trustworthy as the air” might ring true on a planet where they can breathe without their helmets … but what if they so happen to land on a planet that they cannot?

In hindsight, that sounds like a very mando joke to make. B’)

“Who ever is reliable all the time?” Both a joke and a very serious question.

  • ge’tal — red

Ge shows up again. Almost. Tal, blood. Almost blood, or nearly / like blood. 

From what I understand, the Taung did bleed red, and since they were the original mandalorians, it makes sense for them to make the simplest association for the color.

Red. Honoring a parent. 

This is kind of a call back, imo, to the saying “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” as chosen family ties are stronger than that of biological ones, and consider that mandalorians are expected to shed blood for their chosen family if it ever came to it.

But also consider pointing at a rose and, quite literally, calling it like blood

  • vorpan — green

Vor, figuratively, is to thank. Literally, it’s to accept. Pan… is a little difficult to discover what it might indicate, or where it may come from, but from the two other words it’s a part of (epan, for guts, entrails, and sapan for electromagnet) we can kind of infer that it’s meant to indicate core, or insides, the interior of a thing.

Metaphorically, vorpan can be understood to be accepting a task to fulfill with one’s whole being.  For context, vorpan’oy is the word for vegetation, as in bringing life to green.

Green. Duty. To embody one’s accepted task

Not really sure why, but let’s go with that.

  • saviin — violet

This word is actually very close to Sabine’s name — they’re pronounced the same, just with a v instead of b. In some dialects or accent, one might say they are the same. I would argue they are.

So. VioletSaviin. Sa’ most likely comes from sarad, meaning flower, bloom. Viin is from viinir, for run. 

Running flower. Wild violets are considered weeds in some places, and so instead of run as in flee, run may lean more towards running wild, an overgrowth — or a plant that can live, even thrive, anywhere, in spite of adversity and outside forces attempting to eradicate them. 

Survival in adversity.

And, maybe unintentionally maybe not, given the above I would argue it’s a perfect name for Sabine under the circumstances. 


EDIT:: referring again to points brought up by anon in a later ask:

saviin sounds a lot like Sabine, which seems very very likely to me, considering the long i (or rather e - from an anglophone perspective) and that [v] and [b] are very similar sounds, so maybe Sabine is like a basic transcription or a dialect form of Saviin. Regarding the meaning of the colour/name

My etymology for it would be the following: “viin”/“bine” being a degenerated/shortened form (or even the root?) of kebiin - blue connected with “sa” - as, like, it gives “sa viin” - “like blue”, what is kind of a good description for purple/violet, implying the standard shade in mandalorian perception would be a darker bluish purple ALSO implying that the concept of purple cam up comparably late in the language, similar of the color orange getting it’s name rather late in germanic languages 

I was going color by color so I missed the connection in the effort to complete the post, which was an oversight by me sadly. 

It might also then directly connect the connotations of blue (reliability) with purple (adaptability, survival in adversity). They who are reliable can be depended on to adapt and survive adversity, or so on, kind of like orange (lust for life) from yellow, as thought about from above (the intensity of the flame).

Definitely some interesting things to think about.

connect the dots [sirius black]

summary: it’s YOUR chair. regardless of the fact that you found him sleeping there, for merlin’s sake, it’s yours. neither he, nor james seems to understand that. remus is an accidental wingman, lily is there to help, and peter just wants everybody to be friends.

word count: ~2200

a/n: (thats pretty fuckin ironic peter pettigrew u stupid swine) ANYWAY KIDS WHATS UP I LOVE ALL THE MARAUDERS EQUALLY???? but i have an especially soft spot for sirius and remus and james…. hmm…. (especially ben barnes as sirius and andrew garfield as remus but shhh) anyway ik i have a shit ton of requests to do but here i am, master procrastinator, back with more procrastination works! i had an impulse okay. y’all should be thanking me for this insight on snogging sirius black bc i know i’m thanking myself tonight

Keep reading