we need to see those hands

Gardener AU!! 

(I’m a bad writer, but if you’re interested in some rambling, read more)

Keep reading

Sigiling Selfies: How to Anti-Taglock Pictures of Yourself

So @dontusemycauldron mentioned this to me at some point, and it took a few days for it to really sink in. They told me how some people put sigils on their photos to prevent people from using them as taglocks for things like cursing. And I went, “well holy shit, that is fucking clever,” and proceeded to do it with every single one of my selfies I’ve posted to Tumblr. Not because I’m concerned, but I like to put faith in preventative measures. 

I decided I was going to show you guys how to do it - at least with SAI, because that’s the program I tend to use for art things now (and I can’t find a good crack of Photoshop anymore). However, any art or digital media program that makes use of layers and transparencies can be used for this technique.

First off, you want your sigils. I made two personal ones, and I also made two for Tumblr use. However, I’m going to recommend that you create your own sigils with your own statements of intent, if you can.

“This photo is bound from being used as a taglock.” 

“This photo is not successfully used as a taglock for cursing.”

Ideally, you want digital sigils with transparent backgrounds, so you can avoid as much visual disturbance to your picture - you don’t want people to see or know there is anything over top of it, right?

Anyway, now on to the (SAI) tutorial!

Open your selfie and your sigils; you can switch between them along the bottom of the SAI window. Copy and paste the sigils onto your picture. I do this by clicking on the sigil’s canvas, hitting Ctrl+A and then Ctrl+C, then selecting the canvas with the selfie and hitting Ctrl+V. I can show the screen commands, however, for those that aren’t so tech savvy:

The “paste” option is also in the “edit” menu, as you can see. When you’ve done that, your selfie should look something like this:

Well, you know, you won’t look like me…but your sigils will have pasted in the top left corner of your picture. And they’re very obviously visible. BUT fortunately we’re not done with it yet. 

Arrange your sigils over top of the face part of the selfie, however you want. I didn’t specify before, but the icon that looks like the cross with the arrows on each end (highlighted in blue here) :

…that’s the move tool; click on that, then on each separate layer, and you can move the layer around as you wish.) You definitely wanna do this before you change any of the transparency of the sigils, while you can still see them. Ultimately it doesn’t matter how you arrange them, just as long as they are on your face. Mine look like this:

It almost makes a heart shape, lol. So, those familar with SAI know where to look to see the layers. Mine were on the left-hand side by default, I know that is something you can change, however. They look like this:

On the bottom you can see the separate layers - your picture, and the sigils each on their own layer. Above that, you can see the “mode” and “opacity” tools. Those are the ones we care about.

Experiment with the mode if you want - it isn’t required, but it can help. I like to put mine on “overlay,” because it adds to the visualization of the sigils seeping into the picture and blending in to it. You need to click on each separate sigil layer to apply the mode. That makes it look like this:

And with that we’re almost done! Finally, just change each of the sigil layer’s opacity to 1% by clicking on the opacity bar and dragging it almost all the way down. You want them to not be at zero because they still need to be on the pictures and not “off,” but if you put them at any higher than 1%, you can still see them, and you definitely do not want people being able to see the sigils. Once you’re done that the selfie look like this:

Can you even tell there are sigils over top of that? There are. Four sigils, now, actually, lol. And this is how the layers look over on the side in SAI:

As you can see, the mode has been set to overlay on both, and they are both at 1% opacity. From there, save your picture (file, save as), feeling free to specify in the title that one has been magic’d. Then, you can upload them without any worry!

Of course, this can be done with sigils for other purposes - I just made this post with the intention of preventing selfies being used as taglocks, because that’s what I did to mine today. However, you can easily apply any sort of glamours to your selfies, if you desire. 

I hope this helps anyone, or inspires anyone! Let me know if you have any more questions, or if I wasn’t so clear about things! This is my first time making a tutorial for any art program, I dunno if I did any good… But, yeah, just let me know if you have more questions or anything! :)

Our party has arrived back in town in need of funds and unsure what our next step should be. We decide head to the Orion Guild, where we can earn some gold and hopefully get a clue as to where we should go next.

DM: As you enter, you see Guildmaster Cid in his usual spot on the counter. It’s early enough in the day that most of the tables are empty… [and so on]

Me: [Fighter] checks the board for bounties.

The DM puts down a small handful of papers in front of us–the bounties that we’re eligible to take at our current ranks in the guild. One bounty reads:

ROAD BLOCKED!

A Crash of Rhinoceros has taken up station NE of Neverwinter on the main trade road, charging those who try to pass. They need to be removed, by force if necessary.

Sister: This one shouldn’t take too long, it’s just on the road.

Me: And [Druid] will probably like it.

My sister looks confused, which I don’t understand since her druid’s been taking every opportunity to seek out new animals to wildshape.

Sister: What’s [Druid] got to do with bandits?

Me: What bandits?

Sister: The crash of rhinoceros?

Me: Oh, I think he meant crash as in group. Like, actual rhinos.

DM: Yep.

Sister: …But then how are they collecting the tolls?

There’s a moment of silence. I actually lean over to look at the bounty again, since I didn’t remember reading the word “tolls” anywhere. Then he speaks slowly:

DM: …what tolls?

She looks at us like we’re nuts.

Sister: The ones they’re charging people on the road…?

And then she gets it. Her whole face changes.

Sister: Oh. You mean the rhinos are actually charging people.

We had to break for a few minutes until we got the laughter under control.

updated 05/24/2017 

A collection of my work for those on the app to view and hopefully enjoy! 

 fluff ♡ | angst ☂ | smut ☆ | violence × 
the unlisted

MIN YOONGI 

+ ONESHOTS;

eight ♡
• need a hand? ♡ | college au
• like flowers we bloom ♡ | bad boy au
see you soon [ft. Jungkook] ♡☂ | soulmate au
• the gap ♡ | neighbor au
• better place ♡ | harry potter au

+ SERIES;

all too well [10/10] ♡☂☆ | idol & makeup artist au

JUNG HOSEOK

+ ONESHOTS;

• begin again ♡☆ | harry potter au

PARK JIMIN 

+ ONESHOTS;

 improvise ♡
• until you find me ♡ | harry potter au
• chrysalism ♡
• the endless winter ♡ | idol/fan + soulmate au
• shades of wrong ♡☆ | harry potter au

KIM TAEHYUNG

+ ONESHOTS;

 dare ♡
• a happy memory ♡ | harry potter au
• pillow fort ♡☆
along the boardwalk ♡ | skater boy au
drabbles
• muse ♡ | artist au

+ SERIES;

• hold me tight [2/?] ♡☂ | hwarang/royalty/soulmate au

JEON JUNGKOOK

+ ONESHOTS;

behind these walls ♡ | neighbor au
• in media res ♡ | photographer au
• sunflower letter ♡ | harry potter au
• over and over again ♡
• twinkling starlight ♡ | christmas au
believe in me ♡☂ | guardian angel au
• you and i ♡☂ ☆ | reincarnation au
• wait for it ♡☆ | royalty au
• overtime ♡☆ | ceo/boss au
• take my hand ♡☂ | amnesia au
hopeless hearts ♡ | idol/fan au
drabbles
exchanges ♡☆ | spiderman au

+ SERIES;

it’s all fun & games [5/5] ♡☂ | fake dating au
drabbles
purpose [1/?] ☂ × | assassin au

Glitter Ball

I’ve been seeing some discussion in past few days about how unrealistic it is that Bitty doesn’t hang out with other queer kids at Samwell, which is a valid point, and it reminded me I had a fic languishing in my drafts folder that involved an expanded look at the LGBTQIA group on campus, so I figured maybe the time had come to post it. It’s more about Dex than Bitty, because I started it as a response to the “Dex is homophobic” discourse, so this is from a “Dex has never been straight, he just doesn’t think it’s any of your business” perspective.

(It’s the beginning of a longer fic called “I Abhor You/I Adore You” that’s kind of an exercise in filling in all the gaps between the Nurseydex tweets and fleshing out the non-hockey parts of Samwell, but who knows if I’ll ever finish it.)

~4.5k, pre-slash Nurseydex, mostly Dex POV, guest appearances by Bitty, Holster, and a few OCs from the LGBTQIA group. Location of the IT helpdesk across the hall from the resource center entirely stolen from my own tiny liberal arts school, “the little gay college in the middle of Iowa.”

Read it on AO3 (now with the second chapter as well).


First year, first semester

Dex got a job with the helpdesk almost as soon as he got to campus. This wasn’t exactly normal for an unknown, untested, untried, and undeclared first year student, but he had references from his high school job and there was a constant shortage of people who actually knew how to do anything with hardware. Which, of course, was the thing most of the professors actually needed help with. They weren’t actually receiving a lot of emergency Python coding calls; they needed someone who could “make the goddamn printer talk to the computer” without pissing anyone off by being too condescending.

He enjoyed it; compared to having to do the same thing in a retail environment, this was downright relaxing, and he at least had some confidence the people he was helping weren’t complete idiots. He could even leave behind a Post-It of step-by-step instructions of how to fix the problem themselves next time and have it be followed at least 50% of the time! Not to mention his work-study hours as a student athlete were actually capped and enforced so he wouldn’t work himself to death. So relaxing when compared to high school, when he’d had to juggle IT work, lobster fishing, hockey, and grades good enough to get some kind of scholarship.

Since he’d gotten to campus early to start pre-season practice with the hockey team, he’d been able to establish a work routine before adding in classes, which had been helpful. The CS classes at Samwell were certainly more demanding, but that was why he was here, wasn’t it? All in all, he was pretty satisfied with how things were shaping up. (Now if only his d-partner weren’t such an entitled brat…)

Once the other students got back to campus, it became clear the helpdesk office wasn’t the only thing housed in the weird little building at the edge of campus. He was just ending a shift when a girl stuck her head in the door. “Would it be possible to get some quick help from anybody? It’s just across the hall.”

“I can do it,” Dex said. “I was just about to leave anyway.”

“Thank you!” She led the way into what appeared to be an all-purpose meeting room. The door now had a handmade rainbow sign taped to it, proclaiming it the Stonewall Resource Center. “We’re having our first meeting of the year tonight, and of course the one person who remembers how to work the projector is on study abroad this semester.”

“No problem. You hooking it up to a laptop?”

“Yeah.”

Dex walked over to the AV podium at the front of the room and fished out the giant cluster of cables and dongles. “Hopefully one of these will work, but we have adapters in the office for just about anything. Bring it over.” A minute or so later, he had everything working.

“Thank you so much!”

“Sure. I mean, it’s my job anyway.”

“Do I need to file a ticket or something?”

“Eh, whatever.”

“Um, you’re welcome to stay for the meeting if you want…”

“What’s it for? I mean, I can guess, but your sign wasn’t even up when I came in at the beginning of my shift, so, you know.”

“Yeah, basically it’s just a beginning of the year informational meeting for students about LGBTQIA resources on campus and a way to get those of us who are returning students to get started organizing other events. So maybe not super interesting.”

“No, it sounds like good information to have. I’ll stick around.”

She smiled at him. “Great! I’m Sam.”

“Will. Or Dex. I answer to either.”

“Nice to meet you.”

***

“So do you think you’ll come back?” Sam asked after the meeting was over. Dex had stayed to help her turn off the projector and leave a sticky note with the steps written down. (He was thinking about getting a set custom-printed with “Helping You Help Yourself!” across the bottom, though he suspected his boss would find this too snarky.)

“Probably not. I mean, not to regular meetings or anything—you can totally ask me for help anytime! I’m just kind of… past the place where I need this kind of group? And I’ve got hockey practice and CS classes that are kind of the point of my being here, so they take priority, you know?”

“Sure thing.”

“But you know where to find me! Seriously, I’m always happy to help. It looks like a great group. But I know I can’t commit to anything.”

“Cool. I’ll see you around then, yeah? Oh, hey, if you have any time on Friday, you should come to the softball game. We’re gonna slay.”

Dex grinned and offered his fist for a bump of solidarity. “You’ll have to come to a hockey game once the season starts.”

“Definitely.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

How realistic is it for the retired agent/spy/assassin to come back and kick just as much butt as they did years before? Does such training come back to you easily if you haven't used it in a long while or will you be rusty enough to get killed?

Parts of this are realistic, others not so much.

If you’ve spent enough time training techniques, this stuff gets baked into the way you move. It’s not, “oh, I’ll do this to someone;” it’s just there. Training can also affect how you look at the world; this is true as a general statement on life, but it also applies here. Again, as with muscle memory, this is always there, always affecting how you view your surroundings and the people in them.

So, in that sense, yes. A veteran character coming back after years away from the job will still have their skills and training. Some of that will be rusty, but this stuff sticks with you. Especially if you were maintaining your training for years. That said, they’ll still get their teeth kicked in.

Ironically, one of the more realistic takes I’ve seen on this was in the middle seasons of 24. In the early seasons, the protagonist, Jack Bauer, is a federal counterterrorist agent. After the third season he’s basically on his own, and no longer a part of the agency that trained him. By the fifth season (about 3 years later) he’s at a point where he’s getting his ass handed to him by a security guard.

The problem is something we’ve explained, repeatedly. Hand to hand combat is not static. The training I got 20 years ago doesn’t apply now. It will work against untrained opponents. Basic physiology doesn’t change. However, going up against opponents who’ve been keeping their training up to date, (or are some of the people responsible for updating the techniques in the first place), is not going to end well.

Something I know we haven’t discussed on this subject is how this updating happens. It requires contact with people who are actually using their training practically. Seeing what people are doing isn’t something that you can do sitting on a mountain top. You need to actually be immersed in the community. You look for how people are adapting to the techniques you’re training others in, and look for ways to get around those counters.

In the case of law enforcement, one major source if intelligence to guide updates is watching what criminals are teaching each other in prison. Career criminals will look for ways to counter police hand to hand, and once they have that, will (usually) share it with people they work and/or socialize with.

A veteran coming in after years away may be able to execute their training perfectly, and still get taken down by a rookie who received their training last year, because they were trained to counter the veteran’s approach.

Updating is about looking for the things that are most prevalent, and finding ways to defend against them. It’s very likely your veteran will understand this concept. Whether that affects their behavior is more of a characterization question.

Incidentally, this doesn’t just apply to hand to hand, it’s also a relevant concept when you’re talking about things like tradecraft.

Tradecraft is the shorthand for techniques used in intelligence gathering. It’s (somewhat) all encompassing. So, anything from social engineering to dead drops or even the way you set up surveillance could be lumped in under this header.

Just like hand to hand training, this stuff does go out of date. Usually once someone’s actually exploited a method and gotten caught doing it. Though, sometimes it’s preventative.

The irony is, when it comes to being a spy, the biggest problem is being a veteran, not being out of practice. It’s being a veteran. When a spy starts their career, no one knows who they are, they have no reputation, they’ve never turned up in strange places, they’re just someone walking around, taking in the sights, maybe doing a job for some NGO.

Even if a spy is never caught, as they work, their name will start ending up on desks, in lists of witnesses, employees, or whatever. Once is not a pattern, but as their name keeps coming up over the years, it becomes easier to identify them. Potential enemies start keeping files, and gradually filling them with what they know. This means it is much harder for a veteran spy to operate in the field undetected, than it is for a rookie.

There’s a similar issue for assassins. Either they’re a complete ghost, no one knows who they are, and may not even believe they ever existed, or (more likely), if they were working for a government (or any other large, overt organization, like a corporation), they’re in the same boat as a veteran spy. People may not know your character is an assassin, but they will know that they worked for someone. Which in turn, will put them on guard, and make your character’s life much harder.

There are concepts a veteran will have internalized, which someone without training won’t understand or grasp. Thing that just don’t go out of style. For example, bullets will blow through most residential walls and furniture. So, if someone’s taking cover behind a couch, kitchen wall, or car door, it’s far more expedient to simply shoot through whatever’s in your way. Another concept is one I’ve mentioned recently, you reload when you have the time, not when you’ve run your gun dry.

Similarly, experience they’ve learned from may still be relevant. Being able to read someone’s intentions, know when they’re about to resort to violence, or simply knowing the value of good intelligence aren’t going to go away because your character spent the last five years pretending to be a well-adjusted human being.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. If you enjoy our content, please consider becoming a Patron. Every contribution helps keep us online, and writing. If you already are a Patron, thank you.

this book is cute and I’ve had it since I was a kid but upon further looking, her feet have like….uncanny palms drawn like human metacarpals. i dont think i’ve seen another case like this exactly, but misunderstanding bird feet is not uncommon

judging on surface value, using comparative anatomy it’s easy to come to the conclusion that birds could have a rather similar structure as mammals (pardon my flaked off nail polish)

but of course birds are birds therefore they need to be needlessly complicated. what you are really seeing in those specimens and the scaled part of a bird’s legs are essentially just the bones we have as our wrist and hand (well, more specifically ankle and foot because hind limb)


and of course birds can’t stop there, we need an assortment of weird toe arrangements too

Sunday Morning

A Shawn Mendes one shot.

A/N: Umm, so this is really fucking cute? Tooting my own horn here, but I’m a sucker for morning Shawn and family man Shawn and older brother Shawn and domestic Shawn and this has all of the above. Hope you enjoy xoxo

Keep reading

House // Jeff Atkins

A/N: Long as hell. Sad as hell. Feat. Good Friend! Monty

Named after: ‘House M.D.’ good show


“Right now she’s in a medically induced coma. We’re tending to her head trauma…” the doctor tells him.

Jeff tunes out the rest of doctors explanation, unable to listen any longer. He wishes he was deaf so he couldn’t listen any longer.

You were here too, in the emergency room. You were the subject the doctor was going on about. In critical condition. You flew through the windshield during the crash and ended up way worse than Jeff.

He suffered a fair share of injuries from the accident. He fractured a few ribs, his legs were cut and bruised but overall okay, his wrist for sure was gone and there was no way he’d be able to play this season but he wasn’t thinking about that right now. The doctor said he was very lucky, but he felt far from it.

His nose was broken and the tears that fell from his eyes mixed with the blood dripping from his nostrils. He looked, like a character from a Tarantino movie to say the least.

“Can I see her?” He pleaded, voice cracking in those simple four words.

“I’m sorry Mr. Atkins, we can only let immediate family see her at this-”

“PLEASE” Jeff wailed. It was his fault you were even in this situation and now he couldn’t see you.

It’s his mom’s hand that fits into his, squeezing lightly both in solidarity and in trying to get him to let doctors tend to his more superficial wounds.

“Sir, you have four fractured ribs. You need to remain calm as you could puncture a lung. She should be stabilized by Tuesday, in which we would bring her out of the coma…and you can see her then. I’m sorry.” The Doctor said before turning on his heel and walking away.

The sound of the emergency room was deafening to Jeff’s ears. He wanted to leave. He couldn’t bare to look at your mother’s tear filled eyes through the glass. Couldn’t handle it when your father asked him if he was okay.

“Mijo, look at me.” His mother whispered softly to him.

And Jeff turned to greet the woman with whom he shared the same eyes.

“It’s not your fault”

Jeff broke down into his mother’s arms. He was bawling now, with no reservations about embarrassing himself. He wept into her shoulder, staining the fabric of her shirt with tears, blood, and snot.

When your mom left your side to go comfort the boy, all he could bring himself to say was “I’m sorry”. It fell from his lips over, and over, and over again as though they were the only words he knew.

She nodded, understanding his pain. She hugged him lightly, invited him to come back, whenever he wanted, told him once again that it wasn’t his fault, and returned to her daughter.


Monday, Jeff stayed home from school. He cried all day, refusing his mothers meals, refusing to get out of bed. He ignored his phone altogether. He didn’t want anything but to see you


On Tuesday, however, his mother insisted he go to school first, before seeing you. He nodded absentmindedly, getting into the passenger seat with no intention of retaining anything. He went through the motions that day, not so much as uttering a word. Not even to Clay, who waited at his side patiently. Not pressuring him to do or say anything.

When lunch came he didn’t bother to grab anything. He sat with the people he called his friends and barely smiled when Clay dropped off a milkshake in front of him.

“I picked it up on my way to school. I figured you would need it. Sorry,…it’s a bit warm now.” Clay empathized with the boy.

Jeff nodded graciously before pushing it away from him. Guilt wouldn’t describe what he felt he was going through. He might as well have killed you himself.

You told him you didn’t want him to go.
You pleaded with him to stay at the party with you.
He, was the one who talked you into coming with him.
He, was the one who kissed your neck until you said yes.
He, was the one who was playing with your seatbelt in an attempt to get you to lighten up.
He, was the one that drove straight into the intersection.
He, was the one that put you in a coma.

“Atkins, dude, relax. It’s not like you shot her.” A voice said.

When Jeff looked up at Bryce, he swore he was seeing red. He nearly leaped across the table to beat the shit out of the catcher of the baseball team.

He ignored the screams of the cheerleaders, the yells of his teammates and fellow athletes. He ignored the noise around him and focused on connecting his singular fist with Bryce’s face.

It was Montgomery who held him dragged him off of Bryce. Who basically, carried him kicking and screaming out of the cafeteria. Who shook his head at Mr.Porter as if to say ‘not now’.

“Jeez, Atkins you look like me out there” Monty offered as a joke. He laughed to himself, hoping to hear his teammates voice again.

He could tell Jeff was moments from crying and he had never seen his friend such a wreck…he didn’t want to. Jeff was the only person who checked on the victim of his latest brawl and then came to see how he was holding up. After scolding him of course. He was happy to return the favor in any way.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Monty suggested.

Jeff nodded in response while he paced his breathing.

“Alright great. You wait here. I’m going to grab your stuff. We’ll go anywhere you want.”

When Monty left, Jeff checked his phone.

Your parents had texted him, letting him know you were up and asking about him, inviting him to visit. Letting him know they’d be back in an hour. Your mother hadn’t eaten in the two days and your father pulled her away to a lunch.

He crumbled underneath the weight of his own sadness. His letterman slid against the lockers in the hall as he collapsed.

He cried there in the hallway, his sobs echoing off of the posters on the walls. The thud of his backpack falling of his side couldn’t interrupt his outburst.

“No, no, c'mon big guy. You know I can’t handle feelings” his right hand fretted.

He pulled Jeff up, throwing the boy’s backpack over his shoulder, wrapping an arm around the boy’s waist avoiding his sling.

“Don’t worry Captain, I got you.” He confided.

Montgomery, surprisingly of all people, was his crutch. The two boys made their way out of school and into the parking lot. Into Monty’s car where Jeff politely asked to go see you. On route to the hospital, you laid in.

When Jeff sobered up. Wiping away his tears, he realized they were there. He looked over at his teammate, his friend, eternally grateful.

“Monty-” he started.

“Don’t, Atkins. You’re there for me…always. I’m just returning the favor.” Monty stressed.

“…Also, I can’t go in there with you Cap. Hospitals freak me out. I’ll wait though.” He confided.

Jeff smiled for the first time in three days. He smiled, a brief, but genuine smile as he got out the car.


He walked into the sickly, sterile building slowly, decisively. Turning into the sign in office he looked around, wondering what the hell he could say to you to even make a dent in an apology.

“Can I help you, sir?” The receptionist questioned.

Jeff snapped out of his thoughts, nodding quickly.

“Yes, can I- is Y/N Y/L/N, taking visitors?” He stumbled over even the simplest of questions.

“Yes, she is, just sign-in here. Then I’ll buzz you in.”

Jeff scribbled an illegible mess and pulled at the door eager to see you. He looked back at the nurse and she met him with a sympathetic gaze before pushing the buttons that opened it for him.

“Room 361C!” She called out after him.

Jeff felt his legs go weak underneath him. He wasn’t ready to face his biggest regret. Betraying him, his two feet carried to the elevator. One foot in front of the other. Straight to your door.

His hand held at the door handle for what felt like forever. Just like his feet, his hand betrayed him. He opened the door, pushing through his pain.

You smiled at him weakly from your bed.

“Took you long enough” you whispered to him.

Jeff looked a wreck if you were honest with yourself. Your normally playful, overconfident boyfriend had bags under his bloodshot eyes. He looked paler compared to his usually tanned skin and you could’ve guessed that like your mother he hadn’t eaten in days.

Tears fell, once again, from Jeff’s eyes when he took you in. Laying in your bed. Tubes linked everywhere on your body, the monitor of your heartbeat drumming in his ears as if to mock him.

“I’m- I-” Jeff croaked out.

“Jeff…” you pleaded with him.

“I’m so sorry…It’s all my fault”

Every sentence, every apology he poured out, dripped with guilt. Jeff was rambling now, and his voice faded in and out.

You used what strength you could to outstretch your hand to him.

“Come here”

Your eyes closed and opened again, fighting to focus in on your boyfriend.

“Listen to me. It was not. your. fault.” You enunciated for emphasis.

You kept going as Jeff’s mouth opened to continue.

“My mom said a stop sign was knocked down, we didn’t stand a chance”

“I shouldn’t have-”

“I wouldn’t have let you-”

“Stop it! Stop. Please.”

You paused. Letting him take a moment.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I can never forgive myself for what happened and I don’t expect you to but-”

He stopped. Glancing away from you.

“I promise once you’re out of here. If you’ll have me…I’ll never, ever leave your side.”

Your eyes shut involuntarily as he poured his heart out to you.

“Or- or- you’ll never see me again. If that’s what you want.” He offered in exchange, panicking you were turning him down.

You shook your head to the latter statement and mumbled “Stay with me” as you went under once again.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Jeff is nodding and yelling out for the nurse thinking he was going to lose you.

The doctors pushed him out as they tended to you. He waited there in that hallway until they were done. Waited with your parents when they returned.

He was there when you woke up again, when you went home, when you went back to school. True to his word he stuck to you like glue, not letting you so much as lift a finger.

And you held onto the baseball player just as hard. You forgave him every time he offered up an unnecessary apology. Wiped his tears when he cried at the sight of your bruises.

The two of you were inseparable. Just like before that night.

Andrew put his racquet down in front of Neil like a shield
— 

The King’s Men by Nora Sakavic, chapter 17

This is definitely one of my favorite images, I’m not sure I can emphasize this enough.

Little points about this scene, anyway:

  • Riko uses a heavy racquet, we’re told this in The Raven King when Neil’s shopping for his one racquet: “Kevin used a heavy with the Ravens, but he’d switched to a light racquet after his injury. Riko still used one.“ (The Raven King, chapter 11)
  • When Aaron uses Neil’s own heavy racquet on Drake, we get this: “He brought Neil’s racquet up and around in an underhanded swing so hard and fast air whistled through the tight strings.” (TRK ch11) When Riko attacks Neil, this is the description: “Riko’s racquet got close enough that Neil heard wind whistling through the strings,“ (TKM ch17) There’s no way this isn’t a deliberate call back, just in case we weren’t sure Riko was about to kill Neil.

Also, this is one of the first things we learn about Andrew: “Two years ago some men attacked Nicky outside of a nightclub. Andrew was within his rights to defend Nicky, but he’d almost killed the four of them“ (The Foxhole Court, chapter 2)** And throughout the series we do see Andrew resort to violence easily enough, and generally it would be considered excessive. But in this scene, though? Maybe you could argue that he could have disarmed Riko instead of breaking his arm, but given that Riko was about to commit murder despite the crowd, I don’t think that would be enough to stop him. And whether it was or not - Andrew stopped him, and that’s it. No retaliation, no further violence, just this - “Andrew put his racquet down in front of Neil like a shield“. Making it clear he will protect Neil, and that’s all.

(and sure the situations are different in many ways, but most of those only matters if Andrew cares about the consequences, for him or for Neil or for the rest of the Foxes) ((and if you want to be optimistic and look at the situation with kindness (which, let’s be honest, i always want to do), it also comes down to a difference in Andrew in himself, who doesn’t need as much anymore to lose himself to violence when those he considers his are threatened))


Anyway though, none of this matters to my initial point, which is :

Andrew using his racquet to shield Neil

which is an image I’m never going to grow tired of.


**((now i think we should keep in mind that neil knows that second hand, and i’m pretty sure when it comes to a foster kid out of juvie defending his cousin against homophobic assault, facts are not presented with much sympathy. still we see enough of Andrew’s MO to know that it wasn’t far from the truth))

Business and Pleasure - Part 9

Summary:  Bucky AU. After a major deal falls through, your father’s business almost falls apart. In a desperate attempt to save his livelihood, he seeks the help of his oldest friend, George Barnes, who happens to be the CEO of one of the most influential businesses in New York. He agrees, but on one condition. You have to marry his son.

Word Count: 1,715

Warnings: Swearing

Originally posted by snowfox934

In the hours that passed, you found yourself growing more and more excited for your date with Bucky.  It was strange, you thought, that your situation had changed so quickly. Your relationship had more than its fair share of ups and downs so far. Perhaps this was going to be the turning point.

After Bucky explained the photo, you immediately texted Wanda, filling her in on everything that had happened that afternoon. You didn’t mention the fight that the article caused, though. If she had known, she would have felt extremely guilty. It wasn’t her fault, after all. Even if her text had led to your rash actions, she had only been trying to protect you, to make sure you were safe and happy. She meant well.

Keep reading

Of Monsters and Men sentences

Wolves Without Teeth

  • “I’m giving you all”
  • “I’ll be the blood, if you’ll be the bone”
  • “You hover like a hummingbird, haunt me in my sleep”
  • “I run from wolves”
  • “It’s perfectly strange, you run in my veins.”
  • “I breathe what is yours”
  • “You’re feeding on my energy”
  • “I run from wolves tearing into me without teeth”
  • “You can follow me”

Yellow Light

  • “I’m looking for a place to start.”
  • “Grab ahlod of my hand.”
  • “I will lead you through this wonderland.”
  • “Ignore those big warning signs.”
  • “I dare you to close your eyes.”
  • “I see a light.”
  • “The light is blinding my eyes.”

King and a Lionheart

  • “We won’t run.”
  • “We’re here to stay.”
  • “Howling ghosts they reappear.”
  • “You’re a king and I’m a lionheart.”
  • “We’re still the same.”
  • “Creatures lurk below the deck.”
  • “I’ll be here to hold your hand.”
  • “You’re my king and I’m you’re lionheart.”

Black Water

  • “I need nothing.”
  • “There’s something eating at me.”
  • “Darker days are reigning over me.”
  • “In the deepest depths I lost myself.”
  • “I’m ready to suffer the sea.”
  • “I see myself through someone else.”

Empire

  • “Heavy stones fear no weather.”
  • “I find comfort in the sound and shape of the heart.”
  • “From the rain comes a river running.”
  • “We’ll create an empire for you.”
  • “Illuminate.”
  • “You’re staring back at me like I wasn’t there.”
  • “We welcome the fear.”

Human

  • “I am lost and led only by the stars.”
  • “Breathe in, breathe out.”
  • “Let it in.”
  • “Shadows form a grin.”
  • “If I lose control, I feed the beast within.”
  • “Cage me like an animal.”
  • “Breathe in, breath out, let the human in.”

Love, Love, Love

  • “Maybe I am a crook for stealing your heart away.”
  • “Maybe I’m a bad person.”
  • “These fingertips will never run through your skin.”
  • “Those bright blue eyes can only meet mine across a room.”
  • “You love, love, love when you know I can’t love you.”
  • “I think it’s best we both forget before we dwell on it.”
  • “You held me so tight all through the night until it was near morning.”

Ok but I need to scream about this some more.

After Stan has his memory wiped he is so calm and sweet and innocent. He’s like a big kid who’s just happy to tag along with these kind strangers who say they know him and want to help him remember who he is. At first I thought this was way out of character for the abrasive, loud and rude Grunkle Stan we know and love but then rewatching it I realize it’s the opposite. 

What we saw in these moments is Stan’s core. He has no facade, no need to be defensive or put up a front because he doesn’t remember all those things that made him want to put on a face in the first place. All that’s left is the core of who he is: which is a big old softie who is sweet and kind and eager to be loved. We can see this by how he treats Mabel, who in that moment is a stranger but he’s just happy to see such a happy face and immediately asks for her name and takes her hands into his because he doesn’t know who she is but he wants to know because he’s so open and kind.

It’s such a heartbreaking scene because he doesn’t remember his family but at the same time it gives us interesting insight to Stan’s true character and personality. 

Imagine Crowley has a confession for you

Crowley X Reader

“We need him, whether you guys like it or not.” You stood in front of the demon, your hands on the blades you kept in your pockets, ready to pull them at any second. The Winchester’s exchanged surprised glances at your behavior. “You kill him, I kill you. Got it?” You looked between the two, waiting for an answer other than their shocked facial expressions.

“What has gotten into you?” Dean growled, taking a step towards you. You pulled out one of the blades and rested it against your thigh, a subtle threat.

“I’m doing my job without letting my emotions get the best of me. You should try it sometime.” You snapped. Dean’s jaw clenched, obviously more than annoyed with you. This was out of character for you. You always showed Sam and Dean the upmost respect, but something about the man behind you caused a shift within. You knew you had to protect him.

“Then you deal with him.” Dean pointed a finger at you, something a father would do to his daughter, and then turned to leave, Sam following behind. Sam looked over his shoulder at you, concern in his eyes. You sighed, giving him the smallest of smiles to reassure him. Once the Winchester’s were gone, you turned to face the cause of the situation.

“That was quite the show, Poppet.” Crowley smirked. “Seeing you get so defensive over little old me gets me bothered in all of the right ways.”

“Shut up.” You snapped, running a hand through your hair and pulling up a chair so that you could sit across from him. “I just need you to tell me about the deals going on in this town. There’s too many and we don’t know how to stop them all.”

“You don’t. They’re deals, (Y/n). Once those morons lock lips with one of my demons, that’s that.” He shook his head at you. “Why don’t we talk about something else, yeah? How about the way you can’t stand to see me tortured and beaten? Or the way you’re constantly trying to justify the evil things I do?”

“Don’t try and turn this into some twisted romance. I’m here to save those peop-”

“Romance? I didn’t say anything about romance, Kitten.” Crowley raised his brows, feigning innocence.

“I don’t care what you said.” You threw your hands to your side, starting to get aggravated.

“How about you tell me why you haven’t pulled a knife on me for pissing you off when you were so quick to threaten Moose and Squirrel. They’re like family to you and you were ready to kill them to protect a demon.” He was getting inside your head. You stood up from your seat, turning away from him. You considered pulling out your other blade, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Why couldn’t you do it? You shook your head, annoyed with yourself. “You know, I’ve done the same thing.” You turned back to him, confused.

“What are you talking about?” You almost snapped.

“Have you never found it off that none of my demons have ever come after you?” He asked. Honestly, you never really thought about it, but now that he’s mentioned it, you can’t remember a demon ever attacking you specifically. “That’s because when the thought even crosses their mind, I take their head off their shoulders.” Crowley’s eyes were following your every move. “Because I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You blinked, more confused than ever. “Listen, I just want to know how to stop-”

“No, you listen.” Crowley interrupted. “You’ve been dancing around this for far too long and I know damn well if I’m not the one to say this, you never will. We care for each other, (Y/n). We protect each other, we go out of our way to make sure only good things come to one another. What does that look like to you?”

“Are you trying to say that you’re in love with me, Crowley?” You walked towards him.

“Well, when you say it like that..” Crowley raised his brows and looked to the floor. “Yes, I guess that is what I’m trying to say.”

Okay but I just have so many feelings about that scene I had to get something down. Firstly Patsy. I feel like something which has been overlooked a bit in the whole ‘Patsy hasn’t written to Delia’ thing which yes is awful don’t get me wrong, is the fact that Patsy has lost her father. Patsy has now lost all of her immediate family-all of her connections to her past and the experiences she suffered through as a child. That is something that most of us, thank goodness, can’t even begin to imagine. Patsy’s little wave when she sees Delia is so dejected. She looks rough. For me it conveys all of the fight that’s gone out of her, and just how fucking exhausted she is by it all. Watching that fight come right back when she tells Delia she wants to be with her forever is such a special moment. Even in those few seconds, I feel we can really see that Patsy has truly realised that Delia is all she has now, and being apart from her has quite clearly made her realise just how important she is. And honestly can we just talk about the way Patsy Mount, the girl who pulled her hand away in coffee shops and at the kitchen table, who even checks behind her shoulder in private, grabbed Delia’s coat and pulled her towards her in the middle of the street. That just conveyed so much utter desperation. Patsy needs Delia. She needs her and she’s almost past caring about who sees that and honestly I don’t think that could have been portrayed any better than it was in that fleeting scene. 

2

He looked over at you in the passenger seat and caught you staring back at him, your lips slightly pursed and pressed together. “What?” he growled. 

You shrugged. “No, nothing… Not a thing,” you replied, turning your eyes back to the road  and night rushing past. “I’m sure you’re right,” you continued. “This has nothing to do with the demons. Clearly, it’s all your fault.”

He cast another tense glance in your direction.

“Because you’re the one who possessed and killed those people…” you trailed off.

He heaved a heavy sigh. “I should have gotten there sooner.” His jaw tensed.

“Dean,” you were brave enough to reach over and gently touch his arm. His eyes flitted to your hand. “You can’t do everything. We can’t save everyone. You need to stop internalizing all the bad things we see. You need to stop blaming yourself. You’re not the darkness… you’re the light.”

His lips fell partially open and he was too anxious to look at you again, but he couldn’t ignore the warmth and rush he felt as he thought of how your hand was resting on his arm, and the words he felt he didn’t deserve.

12x20 - Holy Narrative Mirrors Batman!

In the middle of taking ages to write another hand meta (yes I’m back to that guys) this episode aired and therefore I am here to bring you my review of 12x20 and all the emotions that brought to the table.

Firstly, important things to address: I am PISSED that two POC women were killed this episode. I don’t really care that Alesha was brought back as a Twig puppet monster (my nickname for those creatures) because it was still two violent POC deaths shown on screen. Must we really keep seeing this on this show? After Billy? I know that SPN needs to keep its death count high and I would NOT want them to kill off Max when he is our only canon recurring queer character on the show atm either (not including Dean still hidden away in Narnia) but I’m still pissed off about it. I also didn’t like the fact that they showed the old witch’s immediate dislike of Tasha being a racist thing either. Yes I know she’s an evil witch but really spn? Racism and then have that same racist old hag KILL the poc lady? Nice going.

Anyway, that is my rant on that. So ya’ll know it pissed me off. This is a just fandom blog and I wanna keep it positive bearing in mind I actually loved this episode but it needed to be addressed.

I did love this episode, even if I am getting a meta headache over all the narrative mirrors they showed us and went to extensive lengths to portray. I feel I need to outline them all clearly so without further rambling here they are:

Max is Dean and Alesha is Sam

This one is pretty obvious. They went to great lengths to show this including adding a blast from the far past in the ‘THEN’ section by showing us the Pilot episodes baby dean (how high and young his voice was!) saying the classic phrase “Dad’s on a hunting trip and hasn’t been home in a few days”. To say that the Banes’ story then mirrors the first two seasons of the show would be highly accurate.

Max is shown to be the loud, flirtatious, overly confident sibling with his boisterous attitude and charisma. Unlike Dean however he is ‘out and proud’… Oh Dean… please find your way out of Narnia this season.

Alesha is the sibling who rolls her eyes over her brothers antics, and feels more like an outsider in the family, based on this conversation with Sam:

“He always thinks he knows mum better, because they’re both natural witches, it’s who they are”

“When I was growing up Dean and my dad had the same thing with hunting, that bond”.

This pretty much drums the mirror home, but later we are shown just how similar Dean and Max are by how Max takes the deal and brings his sister back (though perhaps not quite in the same way) and sells his soul for her, because like Dean, he is unable to go on without his sibling.

This is the main narrative mirror in place, with the siblings shown to be kinda co-dependent and willing to sacrifice for each other. It also really helps our bi!dean reading that he is yet again being mirrored with a queer man. Yay for Steve Yokey really pushing that parallel.

more under the cut…

Keep reading

Somebody Else Pt 6

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 

Genre: Smut, Angst, college AU

Pairing: Jungkook x reader x Taehyung

Summary: You had met Jungkook on a summer day at the age of 10,  at 12 you became best friends,  at 14 you had your first kiss,  at 15 you fell in love and at 16 you made love. You’ve never really knew what heartbreak was until at the age of 18 he broke your heart.

Inspired by Somebody else by the 1975.

A/N: Sorry if i have grammar mistakes, English is not my first language.

I didn’t know which of the three photos to pick so I put the three of them lol. 



You stopped abruptly and turned around to see one of the worst things you’ve ever seen, Jungkook sprawled on the floor, blood sprouting from his body, eyes closed and body covered with glass. You feared the worst, running to his figure lying on the ground you crouched, crying and calling his name.

“Please don’t leave me, please. SOMEBODY CALL AN AMBULANCE!”


You felt the air being sucked from your lungs the minutes it took the ambulance to get to the place and the path from the accident to the hospital, tears flowing from your eyes incessantly, unsteadily breathing while you strongly held Jungkook until the doctors took him away to the emergency room and you had to let go of him.

Three tortuous hours passed before the surgeon emerged from the emergency room.

“We have stabilized him, he suffered a fracture in two of his right ribs and a spleen rupture, but we were able to close the wound fast enough.” The doctor explained to you, blood returning to your pale face.

“Are you a relative of the patient? I need you to sign these papers that authorize Mr. Jeon’s hospitalization,” the doctor asked.

“I am his girlfriend,” you replied without really thinking, the weight of those words quickly making effect in your mind, you pushed the thought to the back of your mind.

“That will suffice, please sign here” the surgeon handed you some papers and a pen to sign them, you signed them quickly and gave them back to him.

“You can see him in an hour when he is taken to intensive care” the doctor told you before turning around and leaving.

That hour served you a bit to think about the events that had happened in the last weeks, your feelings for Jungkook, your feelings for Taehyung, Jungkook’s thought of  him being ripped from your life forever, his almost lifeless body lying on the pavement , you never wanted to see or feel the same thing again in your life. It was terrifying to think that someone could disappear from your life with the snap of two fingers. What had happened was your fault, because you were the one who ran away from the place without looking back, no mattering that Jungkook was running after you, shouting your name, imploring you to listen.

Keep reading

All I keep thinking about is the little moments we never see between Jean Valjean and Cosette. Like please give me the moments where Cosette wants her hair braided so Valjean practices and practices on an old rope and anything he can get is hands on so that Cosette can have these intricate hairstyles. Or when he wakes up super early in the morning so she can have a hearty breakfast, complete with soft pancakes and fresh fruit. I need more father-daughter moments between these two

Escape: the medical school years

It wasn’t easy.  He’d bitten his tongue more times than he could count. Lord knew Claire could get sharp tongued when she was stressed, but it was what he promised, and he would not break his vow.  He would support Claire through medical school any way he could.  Emotionally, physically, monetarily, it didn’t matter.

Night after night she spent studying in their flat.  Night after night he checked on her only to find she’d fallen asleep at her desk, or on the sofa with a book spread across her chest or fallen to the floor.  Night after night, he roused his wife, and led her stumbling, half-asleep to bed.

Night after night he let her rest while his body raged for her.  

It never stopped, the wanting her.  Some nights she tossed, muttering and restless. Some nights she thrashed and never fully settled.  He would not take advantage.  He would gather her in his arms, and soothe her with whispered words of love in Gaelic and rub her back until she stilled.  

Some nights she turned to him in desperation, grabbed for him, begged him. Those nights he took his wife in a passion born of abstinence too long observed.  

And then the drought would return.

The night before her anatomy exam Claire asked him to help her study. 

“I’ll do what I can, Sassenach.”  Jamie reached for her textbook.

“No.  I need to you lie down, and just let me name the structures of the body.”

He nodded.

“Naked.”

Jamie’s brows shot up. “Ye want me to be naked?  I dinna see how that helps ye study.”  

Claire flapped her hands impatiently.  “It’s what we do. We work with cadavers and study the different systems in the body.  It helps me if I can just go over it that way.  I’m not much for memorization via a textbook.”

“Ye want me to lay there.  Like a dead man.  Naked as a bairn.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”  Claire looked up at her husband.  “Please?”

Jamie shook his head.  “I dinna understand it a bit, Sassenach, but if ye think it’ll help ye.”  He pulled off his shirt, and shucked his pants.  Claire had to smile at her Scottish husband.  Never any underwear. Ever.  

“Bottoms up or…?” he gestured to his crotch.  

“On your back first.”  Claire giggled.  

Jamie lay on the bed, and closed his eyes.  Claire got right to work starting with his skull and naming the bones.  While she never actually touched him, he could tell her hands were close to his skin. He listened to her unwavering voice.  He was impressed.  She knew her stuff.  When she finished the skeletal system she started over with the muscles, then the nervous system.  

He was fine until she started in on the circulatory system.  Her finger lightly traced the veins and arteries down his neck, across his shoulder, from his arms and torso to his femoral artery.  He couldn’t help it.  Claire’s touch never failed to arouse him.

“Jamie. Concentrate.”

“Sassenach.”  He cracked his eyes open to cat like slits, pinning her with his deep blue eyes.  “I ken ye want me to be a dead man.  But my, what did ye call it?  My ‘corpora cavernosa’ dinna ken that.”  He closed his eyes again.  

She continued with her work and asked him to roll over. Right. How, exactly does a man in my condition lie on his front, then?  

Again, her delicate hands traced his body, a brush here, a light finger there. All the time naming his body parts with a sure and steady voice.  

When she was finished he breathed a sigh of relief and got up, opening a drawer for his sleep pants.    

“Again.”

Jamie looked over his shoulder at her.  “Nay, Claire.  I’m done.”  She couldn’t seriously expect him to live through that again.

“Jamie. Please.”  

“No, Claire.  I listened to ye. Ye ken fine what yer doing. Ye never faltered. Yer ready for yer exam.  Now, put the textbook away and let’s get some sleep, aye?”

Claire panicked.  She never felt ready for an exam.  If she could just run through it one more time she’d feel so much better.  “Jamie, you said you’d help!”

Jamie took a deep breath trying to control his impatience. He understood her nervousness, he truly did, but sometimes Claire’s fear got the better of her. “Claire. Come, mo graidh.  Ye’ll be fine.”  

“Jamie, please!”  

Her voice was all Nurse Beauchamp, but Jamie was not her patient. Nor was he a practice dummy.  What he was, was a sexually frustrated husband. 

Which is why he snapped.  

“Jamie, please?  Please?  No, Claire, that’s the one thing Jamie canna do. He canna “please”.  I’ve no’ had the pleasure of my wife for weeks.  So dinna make it sound like I’m being unreasonable here.”  

Claire was shocked.  “What the bloody hell does that mean?”  

His voice was a low rasp of need.  “It means, Sassenach, that if ye run yer hands o’re my body one more time I’m no’ gonna pretend to be a dead man for much longer.  I’ll be very much alive wi’ you under me, knickers off, and me so deep inside ye, ye won’t know where I start and you end.”  

She gasped.  Claire stared into her husband’s eyes and saw the truth of it. The banked desire.  That hint of loneliness that she only witnessed one other time in her life.  

But dammit, he knew it would be like this.  She had warned him!  

When the guilt began to claw at her she fought back.  “Fine.  I’ll study downstairs then.” 

She grabbed her textbook, took one step towards the bedroom door and found herself lifted off her feet by his arm around her waist. She shrieked, and dropped the book.  

Jamie fell onto the bed taking Claire with him.  “Nay, lass. Not tonight.  Tonight ye come to bed on time.  Wi’ me.”

Claire pushed at his chest, but he was immovable.  Jamie pushed up Claire’s shirt and fastened his mouth on her breast.  She moaned.  It had been a long time.  The sensation hit her fast and she melted.  She maneuvered her shirt over her head and pressed him to her.  Jamie growled in response and wrapped his arm under her hips to press her to him.

Ifrinn, Claire.  God, I’ve missed ye.”  His mouth covered hers and she closed her eyes to the feeling of Jamie surrounding her.  Her legs were tangled in his and she lifted her hips in silent communication.  Jamie rolled to his back taking her with him.  When she was on top, he unfastened the button on her jeans, yanked at the zipper and pushed them down as far as he could, hooking her panties with them.  He rolled again, Claire under him, as he helped her in her attempt to kick them off.  

Naked.  Finally.  He nudged her knees wide and settled between her thighs. Tearing his mouth from hers he looked at her.  Hair wild.  Whisky eyes dazed in passion.  Mouth swollen.  Breath coming fast.  God, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. And she was his.  

“Jamie.  Please.”  That made him smile. That kind of begging he could listen to all night.

As much as he wanted to draw this out and savour the moment, he couldn’t. Claire’s hands were hot and desperate.  She wound her arm around his neck, pulling his mouth down to her, the other holding his bottom pressing him into her. 

It didn’t take long, and Jamie didn’t care.  They had been too long without. 

Sweet release.  

Claire wrapped her arms around her husband’s back, and hugged him tight. Jamie’s weight was the most comforting feeling in the world. He grounded her, held her fears at bay. She ran her hands down his back, feeling his familiar scars like a talisman.  

“Are ye studying again?” Jamie mumbled, head tucked against his wife’s neck, luxuriating in her touch.  

Claire smiled against his russet curls.  “Latissimus dorsi, external obliques, internal obliques, God, Jamie, you have the most amazing iliac crest.”  

“I do?” Jamie laughed.  “Weel, I have to admit, I’m rather fond of yer gluteus maximus, myself.”  His hand slid up her side, “And yer pectoral muscles are fine, too.”  

They laughed together.   He was her life, her love, her strength, her rock.  

“Thanks for helping me study,” she whispered.

Jamie planted a kiss on her collar bone.  “As long as it ends in a hands-on practice session, it’ll be my pleasure.”