why did any one think this was a good idea

New Neighbor

pairing: Yoongi x reader
genre: Smut, fluff if you squint
warning: M for my undying thirst
word count: 3756

You finally work up the courage to bring your cute new neighbor home after some liquid courage, you get what you’ve been pinning for since you saw him in the mail room.


You weren’t sure if it was the gin and tonic in your hand or your excruciating dry spell that made him so attractive. Through your hazy vision you attempted to trace the outline of the man who stood two inches too close to you, his choice of poison intoxicating you further. His elbow, steady against the bar, supported his lithe frame as his gaze found yours through locks of blonde hair.

Blood rushed to your cheeks, turning your pink glow into a deep shade of crimson, and you pray that the bar’s dim lighting would shield you from the embarrassment. You flash your new neighbor a stupidly wide smile only to receive a smirk in return, why the fuck did liquid courage make you look like a fool instead of seductress? You’ve done nothing but solidify the fact that you haven’t gotten dicked down in a year at this welcoming party by freezing up whenever a male so much as looked your direction. Why did you agree to come to this gathering where you knew no one anyways? It was your ex-boyfriend who played the friendly neighbor with this apartment’s college inhabitants, and you didn’t bother to follow up with any of the friendships since you kicked the bastard out all those nights ago.

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o-flairegan  asked:

Why did they think that doing that musical recap of Season 2 was a good idea? That was the most problematic thing for many reasons.

Because they also did one last year.

Last year’s was okay. This one was a mess for a bunch of reasons: the thing about Kara & Lena; nearly skipping any mention of James; and actually skipping Alex and anything to do with the Danvers sisters altogether.

So: let’s unpack “they’re just friends,” since that’s what most people are yelling about

Was it necessary? No. Was it a good idea? No. Was it rude? Yes. But does it also suggest that the actors are tired of being asked and/or harassed about Supercorp? Yes.

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anonymous asked:

What if the reunion (Print shop) was for both of them absolutely surprise? Claire was not prepared.

The Reunion. 

Nursing her second glass of whisky, Claire fumbled through the loose change she had left in her pocket. It wasn’t much considering she’d been living off the spoils of Roger’s finds for the past month - without a job, however, she would soon run out.

Claire had no plans save for coming through the stones and living out the last of her days in the relative comfort of the eighteenth century. She missed it. The simplicity of her life -before- had called to her on the most basic and primal level and even without…Jamie.

Her chest throbbed.

She had meant to come through the stones at Craigh na Dunn and head straight for Lallybroch and Jenny and Ian.

That’s what she had *meant* to do.

But on her arrival, she’d found herself unable to push herself in the direction of Broch Tuarach. Maybe it was the fear that Jenny would be angry with her for disappearing and leaving no word. Maybe not. But either way, she’d found herself in a carriage making its way towards Edinburgh and she hadn’t had the energy to argue with herself.

“Another?” The kind barmaid asked, hovering the full bottle over Claire’s empty glass, “on me, lass. Ye look like you could do wi’ it.”

Claire nodded, opting not to use words lest she be judged for her English accent.

Sipping slowly, she let the amber liquid flow into her veins as she curled herself around the glass.

What she was thinking she was going to achieve here, she couldn’t quiet be sure. But her heart told her it was where she needed to be.

A quick flash here and there made Jamie feel like he was slowly losing his mind. The last few days had been hectic to say the least. He had hundreds of leaflets to press and Geordie had come down with a mystery illness that had him wrapped up in bed being nursed by his terse wife.

Instead of being focused to his task, Jamie had been chasing a ghost through the city.

He’d caught sight of the lass once before, only a few weeks previously and she’d been so similar to…

No. He stopped himself from going into the tavern, holding himself back from the disappointment. Having been here before, he knew the abject emptiness that awaited him should he get his hopes up again. One time was enough.

Turning rapidly on his heel, he hightailed it back to the shop, slamming the door behind him and setting himself to his task as his mind emptied of everything other than the myriad of leaflets at his fingertips.

Sitting in front of the small mirror, Claire brushed the tangles out of her hair. Since arriving back she’d stopped trying to control it, and had opted, again, to let nature take its course. The distinct curls pinged back to form the moment the hairbrush left them and Claire quirked her head to the side as she admired their tenacity.

Sighing, she eyed the window of her rented rooms with some trepidation. The street below was still alive, the drunks stumbling out of the inn below and tumbling onto the rain drenched cobbles as they sauntered home. She would only be able to afford a few more nights here and then she would have to make an important choice.

Daylight streamed through the lace netting, waking Claire at dawn as the sounds of tweeting birds pulled her from her slumber. The days just seemed to be slipping by and she was no closer to pulling together the bravery she needed to leave for Lallybroch. Something was keeping her in Edinburgh, but she couldn’t quite figure out what.

“Morning, mistress,” the chirpy daughter of the innkeeper piped up as Claire rose for the day and wandered down to breakfast. “Can I interest ye in a kipper this morn? Fresh off the boats, aye?”

Claire shook her head and smiled. “No, thank you.”

“Yer very quiet, mistress Claire,” the young lass continued, an eyebrow quirked in Claire’s direction. “Do ye want to talk about it? I have a canny ear and I willna gossip.”

She had an honest face, and Claire slumped into one of the stools, her chest expanding as she breathed in deeply. The bar area of inn was relatively quiet, it only being just after sunup and Claire felt as if unloading the burden of her choices might make it easier to leave Edinburgh and continue on with her journey.

“I’m…” Claire began, her eyes catching the lass’s as she stumbled over her words. She hadn’t spoke of her extended family to anyone. Jamie, yes. But only to Joe, Brianna and Roger and only very recently. Since her decision to come home she hadn’t discussed Jenny, Ian or Fergus with anyone.

“Dinna werrit, mistress, I think ye need a kindly ear.” Pulling the chair besides Claire out, the waitress (of sorts) placed her water jug on the table and put her hands gently around it. She waited patiently for Claire to recentre herself, a kind smile pulling at her mouth.

“I lost my husband. A long time ago now, but before…he made me promise to leave. Scotland wasn’t safe and I was pregnant. So I went, no word to anyone of why. But now –my daughter is grown and I felt…compelled to return. I don’t even know what my sister-in-law will -might- say. If I go.”

“And yer torn? Ye dinna want to go back now yer here?”

“No.” Claire’s cheeks heated at the mere mention of Jenny. “I do. But…I fear I might not be all that welcome. Having vanished all those years ago without even a letter to explain why. And adding to that the loss of her brother, it might just drag up a lot of buried hurt.”

“After you’ve travelled such a way, mistress, ye’d think of no’ just squaring yer shoulders and marching over there. Maybe you’ll find it happier than ye think? Wi’ the pair of you finding comfort in one another…even after such a long while.”

“You don’t know Janet Fraser Murray…” Claire mumbled under her breath, hopefully too low for the lass to hear. No recognition at the name showed in her eyes (if she had heard) and Claire heaved a sigh of relief. Licking her dry lips she choked back a sob at the last memories she had of Lallybroch and its inhabitants. “I wish I could believe you.”

“Then, if I may be so bold mistress, why did ye come if you didna think it a good idea?”

“Because this is home. More than any other place,” Claire returned without pausing for breath. “…and I thought they might like to know their niece, in portrait form anyway.”

“Then I think ye ken what you have to do, mistress Claire. Sup up and get ye gone! I dinna think ye’ll regret it.” Patting her hand, the lass got up to leave, pausing to top Claire’s glass with a wee morning dram before winking and sashaying away.

In the corner, awaiting Fiona’s attentions, Ian sat with his ears pricked. The strange English lass had mentioned ‘Janet Murray’. He couldn’t stop staring as he hid cautiously behind a bollard at the end of the long bar.

“Who’s that?” He whispered covertly to Fiona, as she walked towards him, pointing suspiciously to her abandoned table companion.

Fiona turned and then twisted back to face Ian, a look of trepidation on her face. “Who? Mistress Claire? She’s just a guest is all,” she replied, with the nonchalant twitch of a shoulder as she slid Ian his own glass. “Naybody fer yer young ears to be concerned with, aye?”

“Maybe,” he returned, waiting for the lass to leave before whispering over the rim of his tumbler, “but maybe so…if she kens my mam…”

It was the intricate filigree that caught her eye first. Masonic symbols were strewn throughout the sign but it wasn’t that that captured her attention. In between the complex metal work sat two (heavily obscured - but still there nonetheless) jagged letters. Slightly separated from one another, but to her there was a definite ‘J’ and ‘C’.

Claire’s heart stopped, and then proceeded to pound so hard that she felt as though her chest might implode.

The very clear name hanging beneath the swinging metal read simply - A. Malcolm; Printer.

Claire shook her head of the myriad thoughts that rolled through her brain at that precise moment. She castigated herself for being so foolhardy as she quickly strolled away, her eyes not catching the young lad as he watched from the window above.

Not possible, she said to herself over and over. Yes, A *could*, might…but probably not stand for ‘Alexander’. That would make the ‘J’ and ‘C’ investment *Jamie* and *Claire*.

But Jamie was dead. Buried (probably) with the rest of his regiment on that damnable moor. There was nothing to suggest that he’d lived, and she hadn’t stuck around long enough for Roger or Bree to unearth any concrete facts.

Claire had simply needed to vanish back into the past. Frank’s death had taught her one important lesson; never settle for less that you’re worth. Claire knew, wholeheartedly, that this was where she was supposed to be. And even though it had taken her just over twenty years to come to that - rather sane - conclusion, she wasn’t sorry for it.

But James Fraser was still a ghost, he was still as elusive as ever and not a sign nor some intangible facts could sway her to think otherwise.

Pulling her cloak up around her face, Claire quickly darted away from the small close, the thick wool catching the heavy droplets of Scottish mist as she turned the corner, not looking back.

Fergus held his breath for a moment longer than strictly necessary causing Ian to slap him squarely on the back.

“Who is she, man?” Ian whispered in his ear, his back studiously turned from Jamie who was hovering of the press. The noise from the machine kept him blissfully unaware of the conversation going on right under his nose. Too distracted by his nephew’s sudden appearance, he was working on a way to get the lad back to his mother - and quickly.

Fils de pute…Ian, where did you see her first?”

Ian, confused as to Fergus’ obtuse answer tilted his head to the side as he surveyed his adopted cousin. Something was amiss, of that he was certain. Fergus had gone extremely pale, his grip increasing exponentially against the wooden window frame.

“Ye ken her then? How does she know my mam, Fergus?”

“Ian!” Fergus retorted, a stern edge to his hushed tones as he twisted and grabbed young Ian by his collar, “I asked for you to tell me. Where. Did. You. See. Her. First?”

“A-at the inn, the one where Uncle Jamie always rescues the Chinaman from.”

Nodding, Fergus looked back at Jamie, watching with caution as his adopted father scratched his scalp and went back to rearranging the letters on his press. “Whatever happens, Ian. We cannot let her leave the city. You,” he said with a forceful prod to the chest, “must ensure she stays at that inn - just for a day or so. Yes?”

“Alright,” Ian agreed, nodding vigorously as he stumbled from Fergus’s firm grip. “I’ll see to it that Fiona keeps her occupied. But seriously, man. Who is she?”

“She is Claire, mon petit frere. Or Aunty Claire to you.”

Ian’s jaw dropped at the title. He *had* heard, in the dark recesses of Lallybroch and on odd occasions in Jamie’s dreams when he’d snuck in to see his uncle safe, the name ‘Claire’. But he had been young and it had been infrequent. Now, however, the full force of understanding plowed through him.

“But the most important thing is that we *make sure* they meet, yes?”

“Aye,” Ian whispered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he peeked back at his uncle. “I agree.”

All packed and prepared to leave, Claire had collected her sparse collection of belongings and trekked downstairs within a day of her ridiculous musings out in Edinburgh. The city was starting to get under her skin and her mind was playing tricks on her. The sooner she made the trip to Lallybroch, the sooner she could quiet her demons.

But Fiona, her new confidant, had pulled her aside at the last minute, a jaunty glint in her eyes and a tall tale on her lips. Nevertheless, it had been an interesting tale and it had caused Claire to delay her plans for just a wee while.

Fiona had told Claire that the Murray’s intended to visit Edinburgh in the next few days on business, and that she was better off awaiting their arrival here - neutral ground - rather than travelling all that way back towards Inverness to be disappointed.

Claire was only a little dubious, after all, Jenny had never left Lallybroch whilst she had been around, even when Jamie had been taken to Fort William and flogged in the early days. But Fiona, she had found out, seemed to have credible information on the comings and goings of the city.

So she let her shoulders flop, turned on her heel, and returned to her rooms.

Ian waited below, sneaking to the bottom of the stairwell so that he could hear the conversation between the two ladies. Fergus had brandished him with some coins and bid him to pay for Claire’s suite to make doubly sure that she didn’t leave.

“She’s staying then, aye?” He whispered to Fiona as she moseyed back into the bar area.

“Aye, yer lassie isna going anywhere.” She winked, pocketing the silver bobbies Ian handed to her.

The sun had only just set as Claire made her way down to supper. It was late, but not late enough that the tap room would be full of drunks. She had discovered this was the perfect time to eat and nobody bothered her if she stowed away up a corner somewhere out of sight.

“Mistress!” Fiona shouted on her entrance into the small, but overrun room. The extravagant gesture caught her eye immediately. “I have something special for ye tonight, come and sit here.” Patting a stool close to the doorway, she placed a full ale-pot against the wooden tabletop and winked suspiciously.

Taking a step backwards, Claire shook her head infinitesimally. “I-I’d prefer somewhere…quieter. If you don’t mind?” She posed the reply as a question, but really she didn’t want to cause a scene.

Tipping her head to the side, a canny grin plastered on her face, Fiona shook her head, her tight (perfectly circular, Claire noted with some jealousy) curls bobbing against her pinked cheeks as she patted the chair with more vigor now. “Ach. No, Claire. Ye canna hide yersel’ away. Come, sit here and chat wi’ me. Please…”

Rolling her eyes, Claire acquiesced with a slight sense of grim acceptance. She could do worse than making friends with a kindly young woman - especially since Claire *assumed* it was her who’d placed down the fee for Claire’s extra nights when her coins had run down. Pulling her knitted shawl tightly around her shoulders, she pulled the final few bobby pins from her updo and let her damp curls fall around her shoulders. She’d twisted it up into a rough bun in preparation for her trip back across rugged Scotland and had forgotten to pull it back down in the hours since. But she felt happier shielding her face as the space began to fill with more and more workers as their days ended.

It was beginning to heat up as Fiona brought Claire a nice, large bowl a stew. The broth looked inviting and before long Claire had cleared the whole dish, her stomach growling happily at the warm food as its nourishment began to course through her veins.

Suddenly her spine began to prickle and she swept her curls aside. She had the uncanny feeling that someone’s eyes were upon her and, although she couldn’t yet see who that was, her gaze began to float around the bustling tavern.

Her heart thudded evenly in her chest as she took in one happy, tipsy Scotsman after another. But nothing out of the ordinary piqued her interest.

Out of the corner of her eye a flash of red caught her attention, and she swivelled (in a *very* unladylike manner) to try and catch a glimpse. The crowd though, jolly and in deep (loud) conversation with one another, seemed to swallow up the sight and Claire placed her hand over her heart as if to calm herself.

‘It’s nothing, just your imagination,’ she self-flagellated, her bottom coming to rest back in the stool once more. In her momentary haze she’d tensed her legs and ended up half-squatting over the chair like a lioness waiting to strike her prey.

Without warning a scrawny blonde lad came darting through the inn, his limbs flailing in some cartoonish moves as he darted this way and that, trying to avoid the grumbling cliental of the lively alehouse.

“Ian! Ye wee fiend…” came a familiar cry, his deep Scots burr ringing in Claire’s ears as she clung to the table for dear life. “…get BACK HERE!”

Claire’s palms sweat; the dampness seeping into the wood that seemed to grow up and around her fingers as the world flipped on its axis. She knew that voice, she was certain. But the knowledge that had haunted her of his death all of these years was deeply ingrained and the more rational part of her was certain she’d concocted this whole sordid evening out of pure want.

Certain that she would turn and see a stranger, Claire slammed her eyes shut and inhaled one really deep breath. Stale ale filled her nostrils as she gasped and re-opened her eyes. Persistent chatter surrounded her, the white noise dissipating as her head stopped spinning. The argument between the lad -named Ian- and his soon-to-be-captor seemed to have petered away in the time that Claire had been semi-unconscious and she could no longer hear the voice she so desperately wished was real.

Considering herself safe for the time being, Claire turned on her chair to survey the room once more, her skin still flickering with the latent feeling of being watched.

It was then her heart stopped dead in her chest, its beat pumping out one intense thump before ceasing…or so she felt.

His eyes were directly on hers; those blue pools that had captivated and enslaved her all those years ago. She recalled the subtle flecks of yellow that curled around his pupils, only visible when in certain flickering candlelight, her instinct picking up the most redundant details as the rest of her body shut down and then restarted once more, shock filling every inch of her.

Her throat dried and her eyes watered as she stood, without consciously thinking of her actions, and stepped (in time with him) forwards.

Claire blinked for the first time in what felt like forever, her vision blurring and then righting itself in the candlelit room as the tears began to cascade down her face. His cheeks were already wet, the moisture collecting at the corners of his twitching mouth as he tried to decide whether to laugh, cry more or faint…ineloquently (of course).

It was a dream.

It *had* to be a dream, she told herself, her mouth moving as she soundlessly muttered the words over and over.

Finally, face to face, the slight lines of age marring their faces, Claire allowed herself the courage to speak. Lifting her fingers in time with his, she reached out hesitantly, her hand jerking back on contact with his heated flesh.



They spoke at the same time, the crackle in each of their voices sounding exceptionally loud even though they were only talking in hushed whispers in the middle of the extremely busy taproom.

“…you’re alive!”

“…you’re here!”

Void Stiles Imagine- Costume Party

Everyone wanted to date Y/N, the fact you had no interest in dating any high school boy only made it more of a competition for their stupid egos. It wasn’t that you thought you were too good for them, you just wanted to save yourself the heartbreak and embarrassment after everything goes sour. You just wanted to go to school and have a laugh with some friends, that didn’t make boys a top priority on your list. Well that’s how it used to be anyway. There was something about Stiles Stilinski’s goofiness that you adored, how he took the blame for his friends all the time, how he didn’t care to embarrass himself in front of the class as long as he’s protecting someone else from doing it.

You had a free period so you decided to do some extra studying in the library, your friends were all going for something to eat but they were bringing their boyfriends and their friends. So In other words it would be you having a bunch of guys hit on you, while your friends moan at you for being too ‘prude’ or ‘high maintenance’. You were recapping your knowledge on stem cells when you heard the library doors swing open. You briefly glanced up to see Stiles walking in, you followed him with your eyes until he looked back at you. He then suddenly covered his face with the folder he was holding and scrambled to sit on an empty seat at the back of the room. You shook your head and smiled, looking back down at your work. It wasn’t until ten minutes later that you felt the chair opposite you be uneasily pulled out. You heard a loud panting and books being slammed down on the desk. “It’s about time, I thought you’d never get the balls to come over” you claimed, still reading your textbook.  “You knew I was going to come over?” he asked, finally catching his breath. “No. But I knew you wanted to” you replied, finally looking up at him. Catching his brown eyes reflect the glare of the light. “Did you want me to?” he interrogated, leaning forward. “Did I want you to what?” you asked sarcastically. He gave you a questioning look, while trying not to laugh, “So where’s your friends?” he asked, looking around. “You sure love asking questions” you grinned. “And you sure love giving short answers” he fired back. “They’ve gone for something to eat” you finally told. “They left you here?” he questioned, like it was the most unjust thing he’d ever heard. “No, I just didn’t feel like going” you shrugged. “ I was going to say, because you are way too pretty to be alone” he said, clearly on accident.“Are you flirting with me Stilinski?” you smirked. “Yes, I mean only if you want me to be flirting then I am, only if you want me to be-” He began rambling, before stopping himself after realising you were trying not to laugh. “Oh god, that was embarrassing” he said, rubbing his neck. “No, it was kind of sweet” you reassured. “Well, I think I’ve took enough humiliation to last a lifetime. See you.” he picked up his books and began to walk away. “Stiles, wait!” you shouted, getting up and running over to him. “Hey erm, my friend’s having a fancy dress party later and she said I could bring someone” you said, sounding somewhat nervous. “And you wanted me to ask Scott if he would go with you” he said out of routine. “Actually, I was wondering if you would go with me” you smiled. “Seriously?” he asked, looking up. “Seriously, unless you don’t want to-” you began. “So, ill see you at eight?” he said, almost immediately. “See you then” you replied, walking back to your seat. You couldn’t help but watch as he beamed out of the library, you also couldn’t help laughing when you saw his victory air pump when he thought you weren’t looking.

“Guess who landed a date with Y/F/N” Stiles said smugly, sitting down at his lunch table. “Don’t tell me it’s Greenburg, he’s been eyeing her up all year” Allison said, shaking her head. “No, guys it’s me, I did” he announced, like they all should of known. “No you did not, she’s way out of your league” Isaac smirked. “Says the guy in the scarf. I’m picking her up tonight for a costume party” he beamed. “I dont think that’s a good idea” Scott said fermly. “Why not?” he asked. “Maybe because you’re possessed by an evil spirit that can take over at any second” Lydia said bluntly. “I have it under control! This is my one chance and I’m not screwing this up!” Stiles raised his voice. “You need to cancel!” Scott demanded. Everyone glanced over at your lunch table, you were laughing at some joke one of your friends told. “Y/N’s a sweet girl, if you liked her you wouldn’t put her at risk” Allison shrugged. “It’s going to be fine, I know what I’m doing” Stiles said, picking up his lunch and throwing it in the bin. He stormed outside, putting one of his backpack straps in his mouth, a clear sign of his anxiousness. ”There is no way in hell we’re letting him do this” Scott stated. “We haven’t got a choice, he seemed pretty determined to me” Lydia said, opening a bottle of water. “If we cant change his mind, maybe we can change hers?” Isaac suggested. “You heard him, he’s liked her since forever. We cant ruin it for him completely” Allison said. “Well what other choice do we have?” Scott asked. “Well I’m down for a costume party” Lydia hinted. “No way on earth” Isaac shook his head. “That doesn’t sound so bad” Scott agreed. “Great, I’ll get us all invited by the end of the day, tops” Lydia smiled, picking up her tray just as the lunch bell went.

You looked in the mirror one last time and brushed down your dress, removing any remaining creases. For once, you weren’t met by the normal self consciousness you usually got before a party but a radiating happiness. You knew Stiles wasn’t going to judge or rate you, like the normal idiots your friends set you up with. When you heard his jeep pull into your driveway you didn’t feel the urge to wait a few minutes before letting him in, you actualy got that butterfly feeling and were excited to see him again. You grabbed your phone and clutch, picked up your heels and ran down to open the door. “Heyy” you said smiling wildly. “Hey you” he grinned, surprised by your eagerness. You opened the door all the way and leant against the frame to slip your heels on. “You look stunning” Stiles said gawping. “Thank you, you look very handsome yourself” you laughed to stop yourself from blushing. He opened his jeep door for you and helped you get in, before walking over to the drivers side. Before he turned the engine on, he sat there still staring at you while you topped up your lipstick using his wind view mirror. “Sorry I didn’t have enough time to get a costume” he said, gesturing to his usual plain top and jeans. “It’s ok, you look fine” you assured, clipping your seatbelt in. For the journey you both sat there, having sassy conversations and lip singing to songs on the radio. He was practically the male version of you, he just had friends that accepted him for him.

When you arrived you took a deep breath, you weren’t prepared for everyone to ask you why you were with Stiles. But as soon as he opened the car door for you and linked your arm, all of your doubts faded. When he was around, you couldn’t help but smile. He walked you in with a proud expression after seeing the crowds of jealous boys staring at the pair of you. What you didn’t understand was why girls weren’t falling at Stiles’ feet, sure he’s socially awkward but also hot as hell. He walked you over to a corner and you spoke, while people came and greeted you. You were talking to one of your friends and their date when you noticed Stiles kept looking around. “Are you ok?” you asked quietly. He stared at you blankly for a second, before nodding his head and smiling. Later on, it was just the pair of you leaning against the back fence chilling. He looked over your shoulder and then suddenly ducked. You furrowed your brows and began to turn around before he grabbed your shoulders quickly so you were still facing him. “What’s going on?” you asked confused. “Erm nothing, I’m just going to the toilet and maybe you should get us someee… drinks for when I get back” he stalled, before disappearing into the crowd of people. You stood there, before hesitantly going to the drinks table which was in the opposite direction. ”What the hell are you doing here?” Stiles hissed, approaching his friends that were all gathered in a corner. “And what are you supposed to be, mentally retarded?” Isaac asked, referring to his non existent costume. “We came to make sure everything was ok” Allison claimed. “No, you came to check on me” Stiles retort. “We’re just doing what’s right” Scott told. “Just make sure she doesn’t see you!” Stiles demanded. “Make sure who doesn’t them?” you asked standing next to him, two cups in hand. “Oh god” he jumped. “Hey, I’m Y/N. I’ve met Allison and Scott but I don’t think I’ve met you guys” you smiled. “I’m Lydia and that’s a really pretty dress. I can already see us going shopping together” she greeted, you handed Stiles the drinks as she pulled you into a hug. “And you’re Isaac, right?” you asked. He nod and kissed your hand rather than hugging you, causing Stiles to mumble under his breath. “Just one question, Stiles hasn’t done anything strange yet has he?” Isaac questioned bluntly, causing the others to glare at him. “Not particularly” you answered sceptically. “Well as great as this little get together was, I think we’ll be off” Stiles said, gesturing you to follow him. “You can stay here and talk to us, I’m sure Y/N would like to get to know us better anyway” Allison said quickly. “Well it’s our first date so I think we should get to know each other first” he said guiding you away before they could say anything else.

You and Stiles walked out the back gate, to get some privacy so you could talk without having to shout over the music or be interrupted every 5 seconds by one of your friends or a drunk boy trying to hit on you. It was a cold night, you wouldn’t think it in the back garden with all the dancing people and bonfire but as soon as you took a step out of there you were hit by the breeze. You turned to look at Stiles who was holding his head. “Hey, are you ok? Do you need some water?” you kept asking, not knowing it sounded muffled to him. He stood up and turned around, giving you such a weird look, it was like a whole different person. You backed away slowly to the gate but he grabbed your wrist before you could go any further. “You’re hurting me” you winced. “We’re going on a walk” he stated, dragging your arm down the empty street. “Scott what’s wrong?” Lydia asked as the four of them walked through the crowd. “He’s took her” Isaac answered. They burst out of the gate, ”They’ve gone” Allison panicked. “If he’s gone void they could be anywhere” Lydia paced. “Cant you catch a scent?” Allison asked. “Of him yes, of her no” Scott stated. “Wont they be together?” Isaac queried. “The forest, it’s a 5 minute walk from here” Lydia claimed. “That’s where he’s taking her” Allison run her hands through her hair. “Then we need to find them, fast!” Scott exclaimed.

“Y/N!” Stiles called mockingly. “Leave me alone” you cried. By now you had already took your heels off and thrown them at him, only for him to dodge them and laugh. You ran through the trees, as twigs snapped under your bare feet. Your chest was pounding, not only out of fear but out of the exhaustion and bitter air. You turned around, noticing he was no longer a few steps behind you. You’ve seen how this goes, it’s on every Tv show. The second you stop running or hide he’ll be there so you had no other choice but to carry on even when you physically couldn’t anymore. He stopped calling your name and you stopped hearing his footsteps. You knew your feet were bleeding, you knew you wouldn’t be able to wait it out until the morning. The only option you had left was to find your way out of the forest, but you didn’t know it as well as Stiles. The only way you knew was going back past the old burnt house, but you had no idea where to find it from where you were now. You ran down a smaller trail on your left, your legs and arms being stung the whole way, you checked to make sure he wasn’t following. When you turned back around you bumped into something, into someone. “Y/N” he smiled, like it was some twisted game. You glanced down at his hand to see him gripping a thick branch, you then saw him swing it towards you. You fell hard onto the ground, hitting your head. All you could see was the blurry figure towering above you, “Please, Stiles don't” you murmered, trying to drag yourself away. “Such a waste, especially on Stiles. Pretty, but stupid enough to believe anything anyone says” he said, kicking your arm so you stopped moving. “Why are you doing this?” you grovelled. “Always the same questions, no one has any originality” he said, lifting the branch again. “Stiles” you whispered crying. “Stiles!” someone shouted. All you saw was the shadow of two bigger forces knocking him over. “Are you ok?” someone asked, lifting you up. “I don’t, I don’t know-” you slurred, before passing out.

“We need to tell her” a low voice said. “How are we supposed to do that?” another one asked. You opened your eyes, to an unfamiliar location. “Y/N, don’t worry, you’re in Scott’s living room” Allison spoke softly. “What happened?” you questioned nervously. “Don’t be scared, nothings going to happen to you” Lydia smiled sympathetically. “You didn’t answer my question” you stated, sitting up and moving the blanket they had put on you. “I’ll tell her” Stiles mumbled walking in. You tensed up in fear, until you were met with a nod from Scott, you trusted him. You relaxed slightly and crossed your arms. “I’m possessed by an ancient spirit that tried to kill you last night but I promise it wasn’t me” he rambled. “I thought you were different, but you really are one big joke” you snarled, standing up. “Scott’s a werewolf” he added quickly. “You were only supposed to tell her about you” Scott huffed. “Well it didn’t work” he bit back. “We’re not insane, I promise. Just hear him out” Allison said, before you walked out of the door way. “You have five minutes” you said with an eye roll. “We can prove it, you just have to trust us” Lydia intervened. You nod your sighed. You looked up to see Scott’s eyes glowing red. “What the fu- how did you do that?” you asked, mesmerised. “I’m an alpha” Scott smiled. You learnt a lot that morning: Hunters, Werewolves, Werecoyotes, A Nogitsune, Oni and a possible Kitsune. You didn’t want to believe them, but you were ready to. You knew there was something strange about Beacon Hills but you just shrugged it off. After what you heard you were scared, but happy to be in the know of everything. “I promise i’ll do everything I can so I don’t hurt you again” Stiles said, standing next to you. “I know you will” you said quietly. He squeezed your hand and rubbed it with his thumb. “I was wondering if we could maybe start fresh if I make it through this” He said, staring at his shoes. “It’s going to be ok, ill be with you every step. Now I’m going home for shower and Scott’s picking me back up later for my very first pack meeting” you claimed, standing up. You began to walk out before quickly kissing him on the cheek, “And yes, we can start over” you winked. You beamed out of Scott’s house, excited for the new chapter in your life. Not knowing the events that were soon taking place, that would soon change your life forever.

Send me your requests, I need inspiration. Apologies for the crappy ending x

Teach You - Chapter 5

Pairing: Bucky x fem!Reader
Summary: He was a punk, and she was… what? She was everything society asked for. But he was different, and nobody liked people that were different. So what happens when two different worlds collide? Are they really that different?
Words: ca. 730
Warnings: None

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

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Safe - Part 3 - Negan x Reader

Disclaimer: this is an A/B/O AU. it will not exactly follow the show, but some of the plot lines will line up.

Warnings: Alpha!Negan x Omega!Reader, lots of swearing

Safe Masterlist

Much to your surprise, living with Negan wasn’t terrible.

It had been a week since you agreed to stay in his room, and it hadn’t been awful. He was gone most of the time (which meant you got the bed), and when he was there, the two of you played card games and had pleasant small talk. You were beginning to warm up to him more and more, and while the thought scared you, it made you feel better about your future and what it held.

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Matthew Goode: ‘Lord Snowdon was a nightmare: charming then disgusting’

The outspoken actor is rising in the world — from Downton Abbey to playing Princess Margaret’s husband in The Crown

The Times November 25, 2017

When I interviewed Lord Snowdon 11 years ago for this paper he was much offended by our photographer’s assistant wearing a cap inside his house. It was evidently a breach of etiquette and, I am pretty sure, of the respect he felt due one of Britain’s leading photographers — and a former husband of Princess Margaret. The encounter ended with a ticking-off and Snowdon sneeringly hanging his cap up for him.

Now I am sitting in a London hotel room in front of the actor playing Snowdon in season two of Netflix’s The Crown. And Matthew Goode is wearing a hat, probably the one he has in ITV’s The Wine Show, the programme in which he and his mate Matthew Rhys josh and gush over vintages brought to them in a “hilltop Italian villa” — a for-real version of Brydon and Coogan’s The Trip. The bibulous old rogue Snowdon would have appreciated the wine and the banter, but what would he have said about his future impersonator’s ever-on hat?

“He was a nightmare,” says Goode, who admits to rather liking Snowdon. “I spoke to one of the guys who used to help him when he was a photographer, and he said, ‘I can’t use the expletive, but it describes an area of a woman’s body — that’s who he was.’ It was so annoying. He could be charming and brilliant, then in two seconds’ time behave like the most disgusting person in the entire world.”

Lord Snowdon and Princess Margaret in 1960 HULTON ARCHIVE /GETTY IMAGES

Snowdon was 76 when I met him and although he had been divorced from Margaret for nearly 30 years, he still behaved like minor royalty. His servants, I noted, called him m’lud. In the period depicted in The Crown, however, Snowdon was New Britain on the march, storming the palace gates to modernise the monarchy. That early model, the pre-peerage Tony Armstrong-Jones, might even have admired Goode’s hat.

Having once compared Margaret to a Jewish manicurist (he was part Jewish himself), he would certainly have enjoyed Goode’s outspokenness, a trait that has got the actor into trouble in interviews before — which may be why his publicist is sitting behind me. She keeps her counsel, however, probably having already realised that Goode’s chance of appearing in the next honours list is about as likely as The Crown ushering in a republic.

A file of background notes passed on by The Crown’s producers persuaded Goode that Snowdon’s faults were sourced in an unhappy childhood. His mother, Anne Messel, showed him little affection, referring to him as her “ugly son”, doling out her love instead to the two boys from her second, longer-lasting marriage to an earl. He was sent to boarding school at eight and at 16, while at Eton, contracted polio (there is a touching moment in The Crown when he hides his stick when Margaret turns up at his studio). Anne, rather than nurse him at home, packed him off to Liverpool Royal Infirmary, but she never visited him.

“Exactly what that kind of damage does to a child I have no idea, but emotionally and psychologically, quite a lot, I would imagine,” says Goode. “I think it’s why he married Princess Margaret. I think he did it to please his mother rather than himself.”

Demonstrating that he was good enough to marry into royalty? “It’s far more complicated than that, I’m sure, but it’s one of the solutions.”

The Snowdons were soon into an 18-year marriage notable for its private rowing and public putdowns. Yet, says Goode, the royal family loved their new recruit and always blamed Margaret for any trouble. “He was terribly funny as well. So with this incredibly acerbic, nasty, vitriolic, spiteful side comes this flamboyant, wonderfully debonair, extremely funny, witty man.”

The pair, he summarises, were “very charismatic, very smart and vile”, but what we can be sure of was that the sex between them was spectacularly good — although not good enough to dissuade their lusty libidos from straying beyond marriage. Soon both were having affairs. Within weeks of the marriage, another woman, Camilla Fry, had given birth to Snowdon’s illegitimate daughter, sired, the show suggests, during a three-in-a-bed encounter with her and her bisexual husband, Jeremy.

Lord Snowdon and Princess Margaret in The Crown ALEX BAILEY /NETFLIX

“When I first met Noo,” Goode says, referring to Vanessa Kirby, who plays Margaret, by her nickname, “I was quite terrified because I was a fan of the first series. I was a little star-struck, I suppose, and I thought it might make for uncomfortable love scenes, but we ended up just finding it hilarious. It was a really good giggle. She’s brilliant. She’s really dynamic as an actress and really fun to work with because she’ll bat it back. She listens, really listens, and responds.”

Perhaps it is because of their rapport that they manage to convey how alike the princess and her parvenu husband were. They were control freaks (that cap business) and poisonous to those who would not be controlled. They were rebels, but also lovers of status. As Goode points out, Armstrong-Jones may have been the first commoner in 40 years to marry the daughter of a monarch, but he was also dead posh. In fact, Goode’s dialect coach encouraged him to “dial back” the vowels, lest people found them confusing.

Since his breakthrough role as wealthy Tom in Woody Allen’s Match Point in 2005, and certainly after his Charles Ryder in Brideshead Revisited three years later, Goode has played mainly posh boys. He was brought up in Devon the son of a geologist and his wife, a nurse, but did go to a private day school. Yet Goode is not quite acting aristocracy and since this cannot be because of his talent, or his looks — dark hair, blue eyes, 6ft 2in — this may be something to do with his habit of speaking his mind. In an interview in 2010 he complained about being left with “nowhere to go” by the director of Brideshead. When Tom Ford’s excellent A Single Man came out, he criticised the Weinsteins for featuring Julianne Moore rather than him with Colin Firth in the advertising, thus downplaying the central gay relationship. In 2013 he said he had been working “a lot of scale”, meaning the minimum rate.

Then, on This Morning last year, he said he did not think the modern Bond films were working as well as the old ones. The papers, which had tipped him as Daniel Craig’s successor, declared he had blown his chances.

“I’m way over the hill, darling, what are you talking about?” he responds, although he is 39 and only a few years older than Craig when he started. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” What he meant was that there could be two Bond franchises, one contemporary Bond and another set in the Sixties. “It’s just an idea. But apparently you can’t have an opinion.”

Recent years have been kinder to him professionally. In 2014 he joined Downton Abbey as Henry Talbot, the racing diver who sped off with Lady Mary. Around the same time he won a regular gig on The Good Wife in America. The Wine Show is about to return to ITV, with Goode joined by a new drinking buddy, James Purefoy. There are, of course, still disappointments. Cast as a morphine-addicted ex-public schoolboy in Agatha Christie’s Ordeal by Innocence, Goode now finds that the three-parter has been pulled from the BBC’s Christmas schedules after sexual allegations against his co-star Ed Westwick (who robustly denies them).


Goode says there are two ways of looking at it. The first is that the BBC has spared the cast some awkward interview questions. “But some would also say that they should have stood by Ed. Possibly. I mean, I don’t know. I’m not the controller of the BBC.”

So, is he in favour of the postponement? “I’m not really in favour of anything because I don’t have to make that decision. I believe you’re innocent until proven guilty.”

But has the BBC prejudged the matter by pulling the show? “No, not now, because there are three allegations now.”

Goode has lived with the mother of his three children, Sophie Dymoke, for 12 years. When she became pregnant with their first daughter, she gave up her life in the fashion industry in New York. He was thrilled to be able to return with her to film The Good Wife, but by then her heart was no longer in her career. Is he guilty about that?

“Of course I am. Of course I am. She has to put up with living with some f***wit who doesn’t really live in reality occasionally and has some slight psychological problems occasionally through work. She’s retrained as an interior designer and she’s so talented at it.”

What psychological problems? “Well, this [show] is part of it. If you tie all of your hopes to the net product of your work, then you’re going to get depressed because sometimes you feel like you’re working really well and then you watch it and you go, ‘I am terrible.’ I don’t watch my stuff any more.

I assure him he is excellent in The Crown, but it was a one-off gig. Series three will be recast with older actors (he thinks Paul Bettany would be a good choice). “Peter Morgan [the writer] said, ‘I’ve just written the most fantastic argument for Tony and Margaret in series three.’ I was, like, ‘Oh good. What a thrill for the next guy.’ ”

He got the part days after Lord Snowdon died in January this year, 15 years after Margaret. His death avoids any unpleasant collisions in restaurants and Goode hopes that none of his children will want to spit in his face. He reports that Matt Smith was introduced to Prince William at a function before the first series was shown. The prince said he had heard he was playing his grandfather, Prince Philip. “And Matt was, like, ‘Yeah, yeah, anything to say about that?’ And William just said, ‘LEGEND.’ ”

“I think as we come towards where we are now, it will be slightly uneasy and slightly problematic. I think it could open up a few wounds that people are still a little bit grieving over and feeling complicated about. Poor old Charles is probably going to get it in the neck. Maybe it’s a good thing that I’m out of there already.”

In one way, however, Lord Snowdon did members of the royal family a favour. The show’s slogan is that “the crown always wins”. In the Snowdon case, monarchic tradition was unable to prevent Margaret and her husband from divorcing and pursuing happiness with others. Perhaps without their example, Charles, Anne and Andrew might still be all miserably married. The Snowdons were trailblazers!

“Were they the first? They were. Yes, they were! So, the trailblazers. Trailblazers is a word that suits them extremely well,” Goode says enthusiastically.

And for that, let us all take off our caps to Lord Snowdon.
The Crown series two is available on Netflix from December 8

*Matthew Goode is currently filming A Discovery of Witches in Wales.

naynay515  asked:

"Honestly why did you ever think that was a good idea, jumping off a really high building without your baton?" Ladybug asked Chat Noir.

“Honestly, why did you ever think that was a good idea, jumping off a really high building without your baton?” Ladybug asked Chat Noir.

He held on to her while she gracefully landed them safely on the ground. “I never said it was a good idea. It was an idea.”

“A bad one.”

“Agreed,” he answered, scooping up his baton from the ground.

“You’re lucky I’m here to save you,” she teased.

He grinned and sent her a wink. “I’m lucky you’re here, period, milady.”

I’m finishing up the prompts I’ve received, so I’m not actually taking any more at the moment! :)

anonymous asked:

since it's october, may i request the mc getting scared after watching horror movies late at night and the rfa members trying to comfort her? i love your blog a lot and your writing is very well done btw !!

Hello!! Firstly, thank you for your kind words! I love being an author. And yes! I love horror movies so this was fun to write. I hope I fulfilled your request. This got super long, I didn’t know if you wanted a scenario or headcanons so I just went with what I thought worked best! I hope u liKE IT 

  It was 1am. You should have been resting with your beloved, but here you were instead, intently munching on snacks and watching horror films … alone. October had been in season and the movie specials were already getting shown, why not have some free time to yourself to watch them? Of course, Yoosung would be too afraid to accompany you, so he was already resting up in bed. Horror movies never particularly scared you all that much anyway. I mean, they’re just movies, right?
  One movie after another, the characters seemed to be lacking more and more intelligence. Why did they go into that room? Why didn’t they turn on the goddamn lights? Why the hell do they think it’s a good idea to do any of this?! Their thoughtless actions made you cringe, but what made you cringe even more, was the gore. It was an unsettling amount of blood that made your stomach turn. As the movie progressed, the plot grew thicker quite surprisingly. It left you craving for the answers to your unsolved questions and urged you to continue watching. God damn it! They killed your favorite character off! The only one who seemed to have a decent amount of brain cells. But just when you thought the worst part was over, the jumpscares had just begun. One after another, after another, after another the intimidating creatures started to appear on the screen so suddenly. You squealed loudly and clutched at the closest pillow you could to muffle your shrieks. You shut the TV off immediately after seeing a very unsettling image of some corpses. Okay, maybe watching horror films this late wasn’t that good of an idea.
  You scattered off to Yoosung’s room, hoping to find him asleep at such an ungodly hour, but alas, he was deep into another LOLOL game. You stood in the doorway trembling, on the verge of tears. You could barely whimper out his name and you felt so embarrassed by it. “Y-Y-Yoosung … sweetheart?” you stuttered, eyes pooling with tears. Yoosung could hear you very vaguely through his headset, which made you sound really muffled. He took them off and rotated his chair to face you. As soon as he saw your tears, he shut off his computer promptly and ran to your side.
  “Honey, what’s wrong?” Yoosung whimpered, kissing your wet cheeks. He hated seeing you upset, it was always that way. Whenever you got sad, he got sad, and vice versa. You grabbed at his sweater like a child and buried your face in it, your tears staining the fabric. He smelled faintly of your own perfume, what a lovely fragrance.
  “Horror movies are really scary. I see why you don’t like them. The monsters … they won’t come get me, will they?!” you cried into his sweater. He brushed his fingers through your messy hair and kissed the top of your head. He used his index finger and thumb to gently grasp your chin to adjust your face so it’d face upwards towards him.
  “Not on my watch. I’ll be your watch dog and protect you always!” Yoosung smiled. It comforted you so much. He rested his head on yours and inhaled the soft aroma of your shampoo. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

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His Treasure Part 5

 Do not plagiarize this story, thank you. And sorry for the late update everyone :X

Previous | Next

Warning: mentions of violence.

You gulped. You watched with fearsome eyes as you continued looking at Baekhyun, not daring to break the eye contact that you were holding with him.

Baekhyun’s eyes bore into your own, he looked mad. 

No, scratch that.

He looked beyond furious.

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Five foot something with the skinny jeans

A masterpost about how amazing Louis’ legs and thighs and bum look in skinny jeans. It’s actually really unfair okay

So for the past year and a half Louis decided it would be a good idea NO NO IT WAS ACTUALLY A VERY BAD IDEA to start wearing really tight jeans and I’m upset about it.

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The one good thing about going through old art is finding old facecannon ideas that I abandoned for some reason??? So here’s an updated Tucker.

anonymous asked:

No, but when I saw that gifset of Stiles watching Derek run on the TV I was like "oh that's not what actually happened in the episode, that's just a fanmade gifset." Cuz seriously it makes no sense that anyone captured that footage and it looks so fakely photoshopped I didn't believe until I saw it like 15 more times on my dash.

RIGHT. Of all the footage they could’ve used, why that one shot of him running shirtless through the woods from the first season?? Did they think no one would notice? Because if so, I don’t think anyone working on that show has any idea how weirdly good this fandom is at identifying specific shots and pictures, down to the minute of whatever episode it’s from.

I was kind of trying to rationalize it for a little while–like maybe Hoechlin was clean-shaven from Supergirl when he shot his stuff, and he wasn’t in the same kind of shape that the show prefers since he got drunkenly guilted into coming back, and maybe he didn’t have enough time to get back into werewolf shape? So why not use an old shot where he is in werewolf shape and clean-shaven?

But then that still doesn’t explain why they couldn’t just take a five minute security camera-type shot of him like, getting gas and use that. The FBI having that kind of footage makes a hell of a lot more sense than someone following him through the woods with a camera trying to get a shot of his face.

Maybe the triskele tattoo is important to the FBI storyline in some way so he had to be shirtless?

Evermore : Chapter 01 (Darkiplier X Reader)

Darkiplier X Reader

Darks Power, Darks stern/ thoughts, your thoughts

((AN: Haha… Got any theories or ideas based on the last one? You should cause brace yourself this is gonna be a thinking story.

(3rd Person POV)

Originally posted by rubies-and-oaktrees

She scowled at him, though it really didn’t matter a single bit. He was in control of her every move all because her fathers greed mattered more than the life of his only daughter and child. Even her mother did not protest. It stung, yes, but she quickly saw scowling would do her no good so she looked down ashamed of herself.

Instead she muttered a question, “Why didn’t you bind me?”

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*there r spoilers here, so please don’t get mad if u see them; I warned u!! I can’t do read more on mobile so I apologize for that. I’m not a war expert or an expert in reviews so don’t come into my inbox looking for a fight. Think of this as a rant. Also it premiered on July 20th in the Philippines so that’s why I know all of this so early*

- the cinematography was so beautiful that I think it’s going to win every award at the oscars

- Don’t even get me started on the sound effects/music/soundtrack girl I was so stressed I was literally LYING on my back on the chair in the theatre lmfao (the soundtrack did a good job at deceiving the audience) also the soundtrack flowed perfectly and the sound effects were extremely realistic like I really felt like the spitfire was going to kill me at one point

- Also I have no idea what any of the characters said thanks to their accents and my terrible hearing! If y'all don’t know jack shit about dunkirk or world war 2 then I rly don’t think this is the movie for u

- Peter (tom gc) and George (Barry) are my babies and I love them with all my heart!!! their chemistry was great in this and ur really convinced that they’re brothers who care about each other. Also u kno my ass cried when Nolan decided to do /that/ to my boy George #GeorgeDeservedBetter

- Mark rylance’s character is my actual dad so jot that down! Ok no but seriously he was braver than most ppl would be when it came to a situation like that and even tho ppl were telling him to turn the boat around he was just like not today sweetie! We gon save some lives!

- Tom hardy’s character, farrier, is literally a hero this motherfucker saved so many lives all while his plane was dying???? Also that ending w him tho, where he is looking at his plane and German soldiers (or whatever) come up behind him with their guns (that shit got me crying bro). Like that shot alone can win best picture. I know the ending for him is kind of ambiguous but like I think we can all assume that he gets captured and dies in a POW camp or something. :((

- Onto the first character we see, Tommy (fionn)!!! For his first role, he did absolutely great! I was fully convinced that he was a terrified young soldier. Tbh I lov my boy tommy and all I want to do is protect him. He and aneurin’s character (Gibson, I think??) barely spoke to each other but their acting and their ability to work with each other was so incredible that there seemed to be a genuine bond between them (two soldiers who knew each other for like less than a week). (Also Tommy coming to defend Gibson from Alex?? I loves it!)

- Aneurin’s character spoke like 3-4 words that weren’t even in English but he really pulled me in by the way he portrayed his character. He was quiet and closed off but like he still managed to make me cry when his hand stopped moving underwater :’((

- i absolutely hated cillian’s character when he first came on; of course he was scared and saw terrible things and didn’t want to go back and I totally understand but his anger did /that/ to George and it’s like?? Bitch no. He gets his shit together later on tho so yeah. He isn’t a douche for the rest of the movie; he seemed to regret his actions. (That scene where he asks Peter if George will be ok broke my fucking heart) :/

- Ok me being mostly a harry blog and biased as hell, I really expected that I’d like his character but like……………… He can go fuck himself lmao I hated Alex

- listen,, when Alex held that gun up to Gibson’s face I was about to go on that boat myself and knock that shit right out of his hands!! I fully acknowledge that he was a scared soldier who just wanted to go home and stuff and like he does what he has to do to survive bUT SIS!!!! U DONT FORCE PEOPLE OFF THE FUCKING BOAT. I WAS SO CLOSE TO DRAGGING THAT BITCH’S ASS BACK IN THE WATER. DROWN BITCH DROWN. He did a whole lotta talking but like I said before, I have no idea what he said because he was talking fast and he had a strong accent. In regards to Harry’s acting tho MY BABY WAS INCREDIBLE AND I DIDNT EXPECT ANY OF THAT. HOMEBOY ACTUALLY /GROWLS/ IN ONE SCENE (that scene still stays w me like Idk what tf he said but all I remember was that he growled). HE SURPRISED THE FUCK OUT OF ME IN THE SCENE WHERE THEYRE ALL TRAPPED IN THE BOAT. IF U THINK YOU’LL SEE A HINT OF HARRY’S REAL LIFE PERSONALITY IN ALEX, U WONT LMAO. ALEX IS AN A S S H O L E; HES NOTHING LIKE HARRY. HARRY GOT SO IMMERSED IN THE ROLE THAT HE MADE ME (a person who would die for him) HATE HIS CHARACTER. That scene where Alex’s in the train and His eyes start to water? Not to sound like a cheesy old white lady but that shit is breathtaking (and sad as hell) bro.

- Also my dad was like “he’s really handsome” and I was like “bitch?? I know”

- So basically I lov every character in this film except harry styles’ character and cillian murphy’s character

- The ending was so outstanding and so beautifully edited I don’t even have words for it I’ll just say that I started crying watching that part

Ok so overall watch this film (even tho u read all my spoilers lmfao) because it really is impressive. The cast, music, editing, shots, and everything else was sublime as fuck. Watch it. You won’t regret it.

Tododeku Week - Day 5

Title: A Blessing in Disguise?
Rating: T
Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia
Characters: Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, Class 1-A (minus Mineta, plus Shinsou)
Ships: Tododeku
Theme: Dorm Life
Quote: “It is a curious thought, but it is only when you see people looking ridiculous that you realize just how much you love them.” - Agatha Christie, An Autobiography 
Summary: Game night goes far better than it seemed it would. 

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Hey I’m here w more stuff.

Rating: e (fluff)
Author: alteanpools
Word count: 750
Prompt: Sacrifice

* * *
“I think the availability of the cryopods is making you careless.” Keith sighs, watching as Lance pulls his paladin armor off, wincing and rolling up the leg of the suit.

“You’re a good one to talk,” Lance retorts, sitting on the floor of the Red Lion. “Last time I checked, you were the impulsive and reckless one.”

“I’m not the one that got attacked by a damn miniature… dog… robeast thing.”

“Not my fault they were faster than me. You saw them first, you should have warned me. I can’t believe they have guard robeasts.”

“I did warn you. I told you to get back to your Lion. And then they spotted us and now any chance of a sneak attack is gone.”

There’s silence as Lance realizes Keith us right.

“Whatever, pass me the first aid kit. We’ve still got a mission to complete. Why’d Shiro send us, anyway? We’re pretty much the least stealthy on the team, why did he think it was a good idea for us to be the ones staging a sneak attack against this Galra Outpost?”

“Everyone else had their own things going on. And it’s not an Outpost, it’s a camp. The Galra stationed here are surveying the area to see if it’s fit for a base.” Keith shrugs. “Get patched up and get in your own Lion. We’ve got a camp to destroy.”

Both boys settle in their Lions and take off towards the camp, which they’d approached on foot earlier only to get a feel for the layout of the place without their rather conspicuous Lions giving them away. Now that the guard robeasts have seen them, it’s a little too late for stealth.

The camp is small, should be easy to handle, except they’ve got a ship. Of course they do.

“Lance,” Keith's​ voice comes over the communication system. “I’ll deal with the ship, you focus on the mission.”

“Yeah, okay.” The Blue Lion peels away from the path they’d been talking. Going beneath Red and the approaching Galra ship allows a more direct shot at the camp, without worrying about Keith and Red being in the crossfire.

As Lance and Blue handle the camp, above them Keith and Red are holding up well against the Galra ship - until the thing turns and targets the unsuspecting Blue Lion.

“Watch out!” Keith warns, but he’s already got the Red Lion moving to intercept the laser from the Galra ship. Lance doesn’t even get a chance to react before Red is slamming against Blue, pushing Blue out of the way and taking the blow. Red tumbles backwards a little, but Keith can’t right the Lion and they are forced into a rather harsh landing.

Lance has to now turn his attention to the Galra ship, and although Red is grounded the lasers still work so Lance isn’t totally on his own.

The Galra ship goes down and from there it’s smooth sailing - Lance makes quick work of what remains of the camp and then Blue lands near Red.

Keith is already out of his Lion, inspecting the damage and apologizing to Red.

“You and Red alright?” Lance asks, approaching the downed Lion.

“Yeah, we’re fine.” Keith shrugs. “Some damage on Red’s side. The crash landing was worse than the actual hit.”

“Can Red get off the ground?”

“At first, no, but I think we’re good now.”

“Yeah. Good just in time to miss the whole fight.”

“Don’t get smart with me. I saved you. Can you imagine what that laser would have done to an unsuspecting Lion? Red was braced for it and it took us down.”

Lance grins.

“I know, I was joking.” He laughs. “But who’s the reckless one now?”

“Alright. You got attacked by a robeast and I took a laser hit. We’re even. Except I totally saved your ass and you just were too slow to avoid some dog robeasts.”

“Even,” Lance says. “We’re even. You said so.” A pause. “But thanks for saving my ass.”

“Yeah, whatever.” They both lean against Red, waiting now for the castle to come get them.

“But don’t think this gives you any reason to be more reckless than usual. Just because this one time worked out doesn’t mean it will work out every time.”

Keith feigns surprise. “Are you worried about me?”

“You know I worry about you, asshole.”

“Yeah, I know.” Keith admits, linking his pinkie with Lance’s, closing the space between where their hands rest on Red.

just-chats  asked:

Scenario that Todoroki has a nightmare of his s/o leaving him & when he wakes up s/o isn't in bed with him, but in another part of the house. Please & Thank you!

I kind of mixed this two requests since they were quite similar. I hope both of you are happy with it! Sorry if it took a while…I had inconveniences XD

The image of you, laugage in hand, coat on, frowned face. The sound of your heels against the wooden planks of your porch, the unforgettable crack of his own heart, the never ending whispering of your voice repeating inside his head over and over again: “I just don’t love you anymore”. The cold, the cold outside the tarnishing window and the cold inside of him. He knew his heart was on the left side of the body, the hot one…but he could swear it was getting covered by frost. 
His hands were shaking, his breath stuck in his throat, or maybe there were tears, who knows. All he really knew in that moment, as your image was violently detached from him by the harsh slam of the door, as the terror of never seing you again pierced his chest and injected it with burning acid, as the black hole inside his stomach contracted within itself in the look for more sorrow to absorb…all he really knew, was he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to accept he had lost your smile, he didnt want to acknowledge your love had slipped through his fingers, and he didn’t want to understand he’d never have you in his arms again. Ever again. Never again.
He walked through the hallway and he couldn’t hear your voice humming some random song at the kitchen. 
It was empty.
He entered your room, now his alone, and opened the wardrobe to put on his pajamas. He took a look to your side of the shelves, where your clothes was supposed to be. 
It was empty.
He threw himself on the bed, leaving space for a body that wasn’t there, trying to find another pair of feet to tangle with his own under the covers.
It was empty.
He clutched his chest, his heart telling him he couldn’t take this anymore, that he wasn’t ready to face loneliness again, that only dreamless sleep could save him from a night filled with tears and cold sheets.
HE was empty. 
He was so empty without you.

When he woke up the next morning, a quiet gasp escaping his lips and his heart drumming rapidly inside his chest as he met the whiteness of the ceiling, he had a rather bitter taste in his mouth. Covered in sweat, trembling and gripping the sheets tightly, he welcomed vigil once again. Or at least that’s what he wanted to believe. He remembered his dream neatly, oh so clearly, too painfully real. But it had been just a dream…right? It must have been…it should have been… 

He turned his body to the other side of the bed, needing more than ever to hold you in his arms, to press you tightly against his body to settle that missing puzzle piece in his heart in place. But as soon as he extended his arms, as he fished for the heat of your body withing the covers…he realized you weren’t there.

 Quickly he sat up, turning his head in every possible direction, looking for you all around the room but failing misserably. A drop of cold sweat ran all the way down his face. The light getting in threw the curtains was soft and dim, signals of a still way too early morining, signals that there was no way you had woken up yet. The clock ticked six thirty in the morning, the whistling of the wind against the window seemed to enlarge the silence in the house, and his heart seemed to be skipping every single beat as he swiftly stood up and rushed through the room’s door. 

There were no lights on. Just like in his dream. There was no humming of your voice singing in the kitchen. Just like in his dream. He felt tears out of sheer desperation accumulating inside his throat. Just like in his dream. There was no signs of you at the living room or dining room, there was no noise at all coming from the garden or the bathroom. If it hadn’t been for that smell, the scent of coffee filling his nosetrils, he would have lost all hope. With hurried steps he reached the kitchen’s door, desperate as he grabbed the knob and pulled it open to reveal what he was so needy to see. Sweet relief washed him like a spoonful of honey going down his throat before the image of you, nightgown on, your hair a mess, steamy cup in hand and a toast between your teeth. He was paralyzed, his eyes stuck on your picture, absorbing it, making their best to acknowledge it as real. It was you. You were there. You looked happy. It all had been a dreem. 

 “Shoto?” you turned around confused, not expecting him to be up so early, especially since you both had stayed up quite late last night “what’s wrong? You had trouble sleeping too? You look…”

 But he didn’t let you finish your sentence, as he walked towards you and hugged you so tight he almost makes you drop your coffee. 

“I’m so glad to see you” he whispered agains your neck, and you couldn’t get the grip of what was going on at all. 

 “I am…glad to see you too?” you smiled out of pure confusion, giving him a peck on the lips as he pulled away and arching a brow as you stared at him in the eye “Are you sure you are fine? You are acting weird” 

“I just had a nightmare, that’s all” he sighted, diving in to kiss you again shortly and grinning contently afterwards “but it’s alright now”

 “A nightmare?” As you saw pain returning to his features, you realized it was serious “Want to talk about it?” But as he was about to answer, suddenly an idea came into your mind “Wait, I have a better plan” 

“And so when I woke up I saw you weren’t there and I kind of…freaked out” You were resting on the sofa, your back resting on the armrest and your fingers brushing your boyfriend’s hair as you heard him talk. He was lying on top of you, his back pressed against your chest and his head resting on your shoulder. Both of you were wrapped inside a cozzy, warm blanket, and sharing a cup of coffee you took turns to sip “I know it’s stupid, but for a moment I really believed you had…” 

“I understand” you murmured “I would…I really don’t know what I would do if that happened to me. I would probably panic”

“Glad I’m not the only one” He smiled and grabbed your hand from under the blanket.

“Do you have any idea of why did you dream that?” You asked, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb “Are you feeling insecure?” 

“Not really. I believe in you when you say you love me. It’s just I’m not…used to it yet, I think”

“Used to it? Used to what?”

“To having someone I can rely on by my side all the time. I feel like it’s way too good to be true” He left the empty coffee mug on the table next to you and, this time, he returned to your embrace with his chest against yours, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head under your chin “And, that maybe it won’t last” 

You felt the need to clutch your chest. He got so needy when he was worried sometimes. Not that you were complaining though, but you didn’t want him to feel like that. So you kissed his temple and hugged him tightly against you, making him know that you were still there for him, and that you weren’t planning on letting go. 

“Don’t worry, Shoto” You whispered against his ear as you closed your eyes “I’m not going anywhere”

“You promise?” He asked, dozing off with a slight smile on his lips.


And you continue to fall asleep together, recovering the lost hours of rest you had both lost, this time no nightmares getting in the way. 

animedragonqueen  asked:

Bless your soul first of all and thank you for making a wonderful blog. Two, can I get a fluffy scenario for Drakon, Sinbad and Solomon with their Wife!S/O? Please?


Thank you for all your help once again!

“(Y/N), do you love me?”
Doubt could easily broke any heart into pieces. Especially if this person is someone’s wife.
”Dragul, love, please, stop asking me this question over and over again.”
But right now, after amount of time of hearing this particular line you stared to grown used to it. Drakon, your husband for over 13 years now often ask you if you truly loves him. He may be one of Sinbad’s Eight Generals. He may be the heir of powerfull Phartevia’s family, he may look like someone who is confident, like someone who is respected, like someone who cannot be broken.
“I’ve grown bored of hearing it.” But truth to be told, ever since his appearance changed he has that strong feeling that his S/O stayed by his side only because of pity. He didn’t look like handsome man he used to be. He was no longer a prospering son of important general. People around him started to fear him.
“Are you sure you’ve grown bored of my doubt, not of me myself?”
“Dragul Henrius Kartanon. How many times must I told you. You know that I didn’t stay by your side because of pity, you know that I didn’t stay by your side because of habit.” She said, coming closer.
“You know I stay by your side because you are my husband, my one and only. We promised to each other. I promised to be with you through thick and thin, sickness and health. I love you.” Drakon smiled. How happy he was to had her.
”My love?”
”I do believe I need to prove you my love once again.” And with that, his S/O kiss him, lovingly.

“Honey, you know you look soo beautiful?”
Well, that’s it, Sinbad is definitely drunk. Of course, that’s nothing new for his wife, but the point is, he is getting too handsy whenever he’s in this state.
”(Y/N), do you know how much I love you?” Yes, he is drunk.
”Sinbad, oh husband of mine, I right now I know that you had enought.” His S/O carefully take glass full of wine away from him, but before she knew 2 strong arms wrapped around her waist, landing straight on her butt.
”(Y/N), do you know how much I love you?” He purred quietly, groping her round cheeks.
”Sin, you really need some sleep.” You answer calmly, slapping his hands of, which make him growl a little.
“Only if you’ll come with me, my love.” He said, with wild grin appearing on his face. Without wasting any time he grab your hand and lead you to your shared bedroom. On the way there you were able to see Drakon with his S/O winking in your way, smirking. ”Have fun~!”
Once you made it to your chamber Sin push you on bed, showering over you.
“My husband, I don’t think it’s good idea.”
“Why not, (Y/N)?” He answered, his face one inch from your. You could clearly smell the odor of an alcohol he drank whole night long. He lean lower and start tugging on your dress. How did you even end as his wife? Was it because of his apperance? Maybe because of his noble goals? Or maybe because of whole himself?
Out of blue a light snoring bring you back from your thoughts.




Still nothing. When you looked down, you notice that the King of Sindria fall asleep with his head in your breast. Smiling, you started stroking his hair.

“Good night, my love.” 

Being queen is more hard than one could imagine. King’s job is to protect his people, all kind of them, but his wife has to keep their morals up. She needs to be the pillar of support. And trust me, this is one hell of task. Especially when the whole world were on a edge of war between two kings. Between father and son.
“(Y/N), I think we should take a break.” 
Currently you were working with Ugo in his laboratory. Because of your love toward knowledge you were one of the most powerful magician, the second to your husband.
“Ugo, please we are so close to confirming our Rukh theory, I can feel it. And what happend to ‘we need to do it as fast as possible?’!”
“My Queen, please. We’ve been up for three days straight. This won’t help us either. Furthermore, we didn’t even leave this room, you should go and see with Solomon before he start suspect something.”
He said, smiling. Maybe he had his point. Now, when you think about it you are quite tired. Sleeping sound nice. 
Saying good night you slowly moved toward your chamber. When you reach it you noticed there wasn’t any light under the door. Turning the know and stepping inside you saw… Nothing.
Like on a command strong arms wrapped around your waist.
“So after three days you finally decided to show up, huh?” Your husband said. He definitely wasn’t pleased.
“I’m sorry, it’s just, I know we are so close t-”
“You forgot, didn’t you?”
Forget? What is he talking about? You stared at him for a little, before he let out a long sigh.
“Our aniversary.“

Holy crap.

“My love, I-I’m sorry, please forgive me, it’s just..”
“Alright, I understand, beside-” He take your hand and lead you to your sharing bed. “I forget about it, too. Abra just let me know.”
You chuckled, lying on soft sheets. Solomon then laid next to you, tugging you closer.
“I guess we jest have to move our celebration for tomorrow. For now, let’s just cuddle.” You said closing your eyes.

“You cannot imagine how much I love you, (Y/N).”

I hope this didn’t disappoint you?

Little Do You Know

Characters – Crowley x Reader, Dean, Sam

Summary – The reader is at the end of her rope with Crowley’s poor treatment of her, but maybe there’s a reason behind it she hasn’t considered.

Word Count – 2,975

Warnings – None

A/N – I had a request from my dear @trinityjadec for a Crowley x Reader.  I hope you like it Trinity!  Request: Where Crowley meets y/n and is a jerk and stuff but only bc he’s actually very infatuated with her and thinks she deserves better. Little does he know that she’s infatuated with him too and the way he treats her hurts her and then fluff at the end?? I don’t really know I just love him😹

This was also written for @loveitsallineed’s Playlist Challenge.  My song was Little Do You Know by Alex and Sierra…it seemed to merge so perfectly with the request!  And bonus points for those of you who catch the Doctor Who reference that happened accidentally, and that I didn’t have the heart to take out!  

Originally posted by just-purely-insane

Your name: submit What is this?

“You should excuse us, Peabody.  Let the big boys handle this.  Why don’t you go fix us some dinner?”

“Why did you bring her Dean?   She’ll just get in the way.”

“Should’ve stayed home, Peabody.  Now you’re going to get someone hurt trying to protect you.”

“Can’t you stay out of the way, Peabody?  Why must you always toddle after the Winchesters?”

You were in your bedroom, curled up under the covers, with every mean thing Crowley had ever said to you running through your head.  When you first met the King of Hell, he was kind to you.  He liked the Winchesters and they liked you, so he liked you. Every meeting was ‘Hello, love’ or ‘Goodbye, darling.”  He even kissed your hand a few times, making you blush and feel hundreds of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

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