what else you want

anonymous asked:

Why do people hate Cold Cases? I mean. The plot is great and written by Joe Harris (I love him and his plot arcs are breathtaking), few people read his graphic novel (they should because I loved it) but thanks to Audible people got to know better his story and it's canon now! Joe Harris is happy and I'm happy for him. What else do you want? Mulder and Scully also live together. At least wait until the main story arc is complete lol

I still haven’t listened to the whole thing lol, haven’t had time. It looks like everyone is giving it another shot with the next one?

2

12x23: “The tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon but that we wait so long to begin it.”

13x01: “The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.”

(More of the quote from 13x01: “The time is coming, they think, in some far future, when they shall find leisure to enjoy each other, to stop and rest side by side, to discover to each other these hidden treasures which lie idle and unused.” “She never knew how I loved her.” “He never knew what he was to me.” “I always mean to make more of our friendship.” “I did not know what he was to me till he was gone.”)

Originally posted by fangirlofeverythingme

  • fanfic writer: *writing* Oh wow, they are going to love this. This is by far my best work!
  • fic: *witty lines* *perfect love making* *fluffy enough to kill us all* *a dash of angst, a smidgen of hurt/comfort*
  • fanfic writer: Oh man. This is it. This will be my legacy! *sweats into fic* *bleeds into fic* *cries into fic* *spends days perfecting the grammar and verbage and sex scenes* *has 15 betas look over it*
  • fanfic writer: Okay. It is finally time to release my baby on the world. Here you go fandom. You're welcome.
  • fandom: Ha, cute. *like* *kudos*
  • fanfic writer: :/
  • * * *
  • same fanfic writer: *writing* Whatever. This is shit, I don't even care right now. A singing squirrel? Sure, let's do it. Haha, cheesy lines that make no sense, sure. Grammatical errors out the wazoo? Why not. No one's going to read this piece of crap anyway, I literally wrote it on a scrap of 1 ply toilet paper with a broken yellow crayon.
  • fanfic writer: LOL *post*
  • fandom: OMG THIS IS THE BEST THING YOU HAVE EVER GRANTED US WITH, WHERE HAS THIS BEEN ALL MY LIFE, OMG, I NEED A SEQUEL IMMEDIATELY, PLEASE. WHAT THE. I'M NOT EVEN WORTHY. *kudosrebloglikereccomment*
  • fanfic writer: *sigh*
2

infodumping about the ocean

10

One(?) gifset per episode || Arrival at Kraghammer

An enormous underground metropolis sprawls out before you—the dark earth and shadows creating beautiful stonework, marble columns, archways, and labyrinthine bridges climbing across the vertical city-scape. All warmed with the red glow of some strange, crimson rock peppered throughout the town as a light source. A large metal forge envelops the center of this cylindrical city. The entire city is a three tiered cylindrical city that is built into the ground of the mountain itself. Welcome to Kraghammer!

8

Evidence of homophobia in the Shadowhunters society (both direct or through the effect it had on alec) - requested by anonymous

6

Anders + Looking at Hawke

Aries: Make up your mind. Do what you want to do not what everyone else thinks you should do.
Taurus: Time leaves funny marks on the future. Plans change and go awry. But I hope you’re happy with how it all turned out for you.
Gemini:  You’re growing so much on your own. Even if I can’t be a part of it, I am so happy for you. You’re doing great.
Cancer: Trauma makes you stronger. Wear your scars like fucking battle armor. You’re a god damn hero.
Leo: Nothing will change if you keep sitting silently and letting everything pass you by. Grab opportunity. Scream at the top of your lungs. Make a change.
Virgo:I hope wherever you are, you’ve found some kind of peace with yourself. That the pain you were in while you were is finally calm. That all the storms have passed.
Libra: Build in yourself first. The future doesn’t need to concern right now, focus on getting through the next 24 hours before you think of the next 24 years.
Scorpio: You’ve waged a good war. But clinging to something that’s cutting into your palms isn’t doing anyone any favors. Let go. As hard as it is, Let go.
Sagittarius: We’re about to start the greatest adventure there is in life. I hope you get everything you deserve and it makes up for all the pain in your past.
Capricorn:  Stop trying to destroy what you see in the mirror. There is no prince coming to save you. There is no hero here just you. You can be your own fucking savior.
Aquarius: Don’t be scared to take new risks. Jump. The only chances people regret are the ones they don’t take.
Pisces: Stay steady. Don’t fall of the path you’re so dedicated too just because of the shine in someone else’s eyes.
—  This Weeks Zodiac

loopymoony  asked:

If you still want prompts, tarcien sass 😌😌

Lucien: I must say, you are a lucky man Tarquin. I don’t think I’ve seen a male or a female that is not extremely beautiful here in Adriata

Tarquin: mmm they’re fine. But I must confess, I prefer more exotic ones *smirks*

Lucien: such as?

Tarquin: *looks Lucien in the eyes* redheads

Lucien: *chokes on his drink*

Patroclus and Achilles in the afterlife

Day one: Literally just 24 hours of achilles hugging patroclus and crying

Day two: Achilles switching between “I’m so sorry Patroclus, I’m so sorry” and “I love you so much, you have no idea how much I love you” and Pat switching between “Shh, it’s ok” and “I know, I love you too”

Day three: Achilles petting Patroclus’ hair and just looking at him

Day four: Talking about the time they spent apart while holding onto each other

Day five: Probably Achilles cries some more

Day six-forever: Forgetting all the bad things that happened and disgusting everyone else in Elysium with how in love they are. 

6

“Take my believing heart!”

Little Witch Persona AU anyone? Phantom witches?? Witch thieves???

**Please DO NOT edit, use, or repost any of these! Thank you!

New Nine Phantom Witches

character profiles, concepts and dialogues under the cut!

Keep reading

Actual dad David headcannon

Okay but David would probably start buying Max things he knows Max likes, especially after seeing what Max’s parents get him. David wants to let Max know he cares about the kids interests, be it whatever, no matter how silly or strange it might be.

Imagine David buying Max comic books of Max’s favorite super hero or something cause he know’s that’s what Max likes, and holy hell, “the kid deserves more than just a hoodie!” David has probably said on more than one occasion.

2

I’ve noticed that I like to draw a lot of unnecessary touching. Especially on Gaston’s part… It’s just… Something. I. REALLY. Like.

anonymous asked:

What if Stiles and Derek's first kiss is post-nogitsune? Would he feel like a thief? Would he mourn the body that Derek never held? Would each brush of fingertips or kiss to his temple be a betrayal? They'd probably talk about the scars too. Derek would understand-- to an extent. But he grew up not without his history on his skin so he'll never understand how it feels to have that ripped away.

Their lips brush and Stiles turns away a second later, breaths shallow, hands twitching against the folds of Derek’s shirt. There’s warm breath on his cheek, the ghost of beard still so close and all Stiles can think is that he wants this. He wants this. And…

It’s wrong.

Those fingers, twitching against Derek’s shirt, smooth and uncalloused. The scar that used to live above his third knuckle just a burn-hot memory in his mind.

Everything still feels off in his body, out of balance, and he remembers the way Derek used to look at him. All tension and frustration in ways he couldn’t start to make sense of. And now Derek’s lips are in reach, a short turn away, and he’s murmuring out “Stiles…?” and all Stiles can think is…

“Do you want me?”

He can feel the stall in Derek’s thoughts like a physical reaction, and he wonders if there was a subtle tell or if… if he’d just felt it, inside, the confusion a flicker of chaos in Derek’s chest. Can he do that? Feel chaos? The Nogitsune drank it in and Stiles…

“Stiles,” Derek breathes again, a quirk of amusement in his tone. Thumbs smooth down his hips and Stiles fights the urge to rise into the contact. “Thought I’d just answered that question.”

And Stiles could leave it at that, asked and answered. Except…

There should be a scar on his hip, long and thin, from a fence he’d scaled once and dropped down five times faster. Derek should be feeling that right now, that piece of Stiles’ history, that stupid ten year old adventure laid out across his skin. But the skin’s smooth. Blank slate.

He shivers, gripping tighter into Derek’s shirt.

“No, I––” He can’t think of how to explain it. The thoughts are a choked feeling in his throat, a twist in his gut. Something like guilt and fear and he doesn’t even know what answer he wants when he leans back enough to find Derek’s eyes and say: “Since when? Did you… I mean, before…”

He’s not sure Derek knows what he means, but there’s a hint of flush under that dark beard suddenly, and Stiles gets a little bit lost in the contrast.

“Last summer.”

“Last––?” It pulls Stiles back, his eyes startling up. That was… most of a year, that was before…

A sick lurch sets him falling back out of Derek’s grip. Too-smooth fingers (uncalloused) slip too easy from Derek’s chest. His sneaker-covered feet might as well be walking over glass and he’s being dramatic except that he’s really not. Because if Derek wanted him last summer…

“That wasn’t me.” It sounds wrong as he says it, stupid, because… he was there that summer. He remembers every moment spent with Derek, researching the Alphas, searching for hints of Boyd and Erica. Charged smirks and snark and quiet moments that felt more comfortable than they should. He remembers the moments before summer too, when the thought of Derek made his heart pound and his body thrum in a way that could have only meant fear, except it hadn’t only been fear. He’d been scared of the Alpha too, and the hunters, and that coil of electric heat only sparked through his gut for Derek. He remembers that, like he remembers the scars that aren’t there anymore, and he can’t help running his too-soft fingertips over the smooth flesh of his knuckle as he breathes out, faint and lost, “…Was that me?”

There’s a too long pause while the question burns back into his throat, buzzing through his limbs like a current until he realizes he’s shaking from them. Was that him? Helping Derek track the Alpha pack? Helping Scott learn to control his wolf? Sitting by his mom’s hospital bed, watching her lose the long war to her illness, pieces of her flaking away like old scars, like a whole identity, like––

A warm hand closes over his, large and gentle, grounding.

“It was you,” Derek says, simply. Like there’s no question, like nothing’s changed. Like Stiles hasn’t changed. 

But that’s wrong. He’s not the same person he was before the Nogitsune, and he’s not talking in the experiences change you, huh kind of way. He’d had scars before. He’d had… a whole life written on his skin. And then he’d crawled out from inside his possessed body’s throat, spawned out like some alien parasite or… clone and––

“My body died, back there.” Four months past, and he still can’t wrap his head around it. That he’d watched himself bitten and impaled, spasm and cracking and shatter to dust.

The scarred body. His real body.

And he was left in… this.

Long fingers uncurl, stretching out slow. Thin, pale digits fitting strangely perfect between Derek’s, and Stiles can only wonder what it would have looked like before.

“…What if I’m not real?” He watches Derek’s fingers twitch, barely perceptible, tightening like they’re fighting to hold onto him. And Derek’s lost enough in his life, too much. It’s a dick move to say this, to take anything else away from him, but… “What if the guy you wanted last summer… what if he died inside the Nogitsune, and I’m just––”

No.”

The sureness of it has Stiles’ throat clenching. He tilts his head, challenging. Finds Derek’s eyes again.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.”

Which is just… it’s stupid how that makes Stiles’ heart jump. Flutter around like it’s fighting to leap the distance between them and plaster itself all up against Derek’s stupid, muscled, secretly sweet as hell chest.

Which… yeah, that’s nearly a gross enough visual to stomp his fondness boner in the bud. He sets his jaw.

“Did you know I used to have a scar on––”

“Your right hand? Just above the third knuckle, a burn.”

Stiles’ argument stalls out. He blinks, finger shifting to rub over the space, but Derek’s is already there, soothing the phantom mark over his skin.

“I… was eleven.” Because silence has never been safe for him. Because noise distracts from the too-easy pleasure rippling up his arm. “First time I tried cooking dinner for me and dad. Mac and cheese, it… didn’t go great.” He wets his lips. Looks away “Or… the other me did, I don’t––”

You did.” And Derek still sounds so damn sure. Stiles wants to believe him. He parts his lips, can’t. Because––

“Stiles, I’ve never had scars on my skin. I… can’t relate to what it’s like to lose them. But the things that have happened to me… they’re not any less real because I can’t see them. Every bullet, cut, punch I’ve taken…” He might sense the wince forming on Stiles’ face, and shakes his head, shrugging that off like it’s not important. But that’s an argument for another day. “Every scar life gave you… they’re still there. You’re still carrying them, inside you.” He flits his eyes down Stiles’ frame, then away, finger soothing over the ghost burn. “There are plenty no one would have ever seen anyway. But they made you. Who you are, and who you are…” He shakes his head, looks back to meet Stiles’ eyes squarely. “You recognized me when I was a teenager. That’s the same person who recognized me in the preserve.” Stiles feels his face heat because… even knowing Derek’s a werewolf now, he’d never put together that Derek would have heard his fangirl moment to Scott after Derek had walked away.

Before he can speak up, though, Derek’s going on. “You tracked me to Mexico. Faced down the Calaveras to save me. That’s the same person who stared down the Argents, drove a Jeep into a kanima, who hit an Alpha with a wooden baseball bat––”

“Two Alphas,” Stiles cuts in, because props, ok? “Two, that were…” His free hand mimes squishing, and Derek’s lips twitch.

“Two,” he agrees, and Stiles can’t not smile back. Just for a second –– fond, helpless –– then he’s ducking his head. Derek sighs, catches his chin. Guides it up until their gazes lock again.

“That was you,” he says, so firmly Stiles can’t help believing this time. “Was the man who clawed his way out of his own possession. Followed Scott’s howl back to the real world. And whatever happened to your body, whatever… magic gave you a new one, Stiles came out with it. Your scars are still there, just…” His fingers trail to Stiles’ chest, and something thumps out eagerly to meet them.

“Inside,” Stiles breathes, and the way Derek’s eyes warm makes him shiver with a proud ripple of pleasure.

“Inside,” Derek echoes. Runs a thumb light along Stiles’ lip. “You could have come out of the Nogitsune looking like anything. Wouldn’t change who you are.”

And damn, Stiles has fallen for a goddamn poet in a grumpy wolf’s body. …But then, Stiles is pretty sure he’d known that already.

His fingers go up, curl gently into Derek’s shirt.

“But… you like this body,” he prompts, and Derek gives an exasperated huff, pulling him in.

“I like this body,” he confirms, and it doesn’t feel wrong to hear that.

When Derek kisses him this time, Stiles doesn’t pull away.

I love you!

Every time I say I love you.

I’m really trying to say so much more than those three little words.

I’m trying to say you mean more to me than anyone else in the world.

I’m trying to let you know that I adore you and that I cherish the time we spend together.

I’m trying to explain that I want you and that I need you and that I get lost in wonderful thoughts every time I think about you.

And each time I say “I love you”, I’m trying to remind you that you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.