wild rag


bran positivity week – day four: family

A cloud of ravens was pouring from the cave, and he saw a little girl with a torch in hand, darting this way and that. For a moment Bran thought it was his sister Arya … madly, for he knew his little sister was a thousand leagues away, or dead. And yet there she was, whirling, a scrawny thing, ragged, wild, her hair atangle… [ADWD]


A cloud of ravens was pouring from the cave, and he saw a little girl with a torch in hand, darting this way and that. For a moment Bran thought it was his sister Arya … madly, for he knew his little sister was a thousand leagues away, or dead. And yet there she was, whirling, a scrawny thing, ragged, wild, her hair atangle…


Later he saw Jesus move from tree to tree in the back of his mind, a wild ragged figure motioning him to turn around and come off into the dark where he might be walking on the water and not know it and then suddenly know it and drown. 

- Flannery O’Connor, Wise Blood

Blood on my Name  |  The Brothers Bright   
Saint Elizabeth  |  Kaia Kater
Don’t Go into the Barn  |  Tom Waits
Oh Death  |  Rising Appalachia 
God’s Gonna Cut You Down  |  Johnny Cash
Old Time Religion  |  Parker Millsap 
Pretty Polly  |  Béla Fleck and Abigail Washburn 
Devil Got My Woman  |  Skip James  
Way Down Hadestown  |  Anaïs Mitchell  
Nothing but the Water (I)  | Grace Potter & the Nocturnals  
Freedom Hangs like Heaven  |  Iron & Wine  
Red Right Hand  |  Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds  
Black Ghost Blues  |  Lightnin’ Hopkins  
Human  |  Rag n’ Bone Man

How to identify Jonsa foreshadowing in the books

GRRM uses a pattern to foreshadow Jonsa in the books. Learn the pattern and you can see why people aren’t simply “imagining something that’s not there.” It IS there, it’s just a matter of finding it. Use the following tips:

1. Identify an opposite-sex character connected to Jon or Sansa. In Jon’s case, we could say Arya, Val, or Ygritte. Or, in Sansa’s case, we could say Loras, Tyrion, Willas, Harry, Robin, Joffrey, Beric, Sandor, or Petyr. 

2. The author will not explicitly mention that the character from #1 reminds them of Jon or Sansa. Instead, Jon/Sansa will be in the subtext. For example, Sansa’s story revolves around marriage, knights, courtly love, or chivalry. Jon is not explicitly mentioned but he’s there “in spirit,” or his foil is a replacement for him. Meanwhile, Jon is in Sansa-like situations or confronted with Sansa traits, but Sansa is not explicitly mentioned (instead it’s usually Arya). Thus, if you pay attention to the traits and their opposites or similarities, you will identify the subtext. 

Examples below the cut.

Keep reading


This handsome stud with that wild rag scarf is reminiscent of something out of the old west and any time you spot a good-looking cowboy it invites thoughts of rope, bondage and a little kink.  Lash him to the fence with the rope, gag him with the scarf, pull down those tight Wranglers and then proceed to jerk him, suck him, before you finally pound that tight country ass to the sound his muffled groans of pain and protest.

The Iterations of Arya Stark

Within A Song of Ice and Fire, there are a number of Arya proxies you can find, both by look and by personality. I think it’s interesting to study them side by side to see what the characters have to say about her as a person, as well as the authorial intent, parallels, and possible foreshadowing. There was Lyanna, a wild beauty by most standards; Ygritte, the fiery first love; Meera, the ever-protective sister and huntress; Margaery, the cunning pretender; Jeyne, Lady of Winterfell; Leaf, a small vessel of old magic; Willow, a fierce little girl who acts as a queen; and finally Alys, the grey northern girl with a frosty winter crown. 


“Lyanna might have carried a sword, if my lord father had allowed it. You remind me of her sometimes. You even look like her.” (Arya, A Game of Thrones)


Something about her made him think of Arya, though they looked nothing at all alike. “Will you yield?” he asked, giving the dirk a half turn. And if she doesn’t? (Jon, A Clash of Kings)


Jojen was so solemn that Old Nan called him “little grandfather,” but Meera reminded Bran of his sister Arya. She wasn’t scared to get dirty, and she could run and fight and throw as good as a boy. (Bran, A Clash of Kings)


A few days past, he had taken Ned aside to show him an exquisite rose gold locklet. Inside was a miniature painted in the vivid Myrish style, of a lovely young girl with doe’s eyes and a cascade of soft brown hair. [..] The maid was Loras Tyrell’s sister Margaery, he’d confessed, but there were those who said she looked like Lyanna. (Eddard, A Game of Thrones)


The girl was slim, and taller than he remembered, but that was only to be expected. Girls grow fast at that age. Her dress was grey wool bordered with white satin; over it she wore an ermine cloak clasped with a silver wolf’s head. Dark brown hair fell halfway down her back. And her eyes…

That is not Lord Eddard’s daughter. (Reek, A Dance with Dragons)


A cloud of ravens was pouring from the cave, and he saw a little girl with a torch in hand, darting this way and that. For a moment Bran thought it was his sister Arya…madly, for he knew his sister was a thousand leagues away, or dead. And yet there she was, whirling, a scrawny thing, ragged, wild, her hair atangle. Tears filled Hodor’s eyes and froze there. (Bran, A Dance with Dragons)


Gendry was the closest thing to a man grown, but it was Willow shouting all the orders, as if she were a queen in her castle and the other children were no more than servants.

If she were highborn, command would come naturally to her, and deference to them. Brienne wondered whether Willow might be more than she appeared. […] Brown hair, brown eyes, skinny….could it be? Arya Stark’s hair was brown, she recalled, but Brienne was not sure of the color of her eyes. (Brienne, A Feast for Crows)


The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. […] The snowflakes were melting on her cheeks, but her hair was wrapped in a swirl of lace that Satin had found somewhere, and the snow had begun to collect there, giving her a frosty crown. (Jon, A Dance with Dragons)

anonymous asked:

would you want to maybe write me a (musical) race imagine where he finds a poor girl sleeping in an alley? maybe she ran away from home? you can do whatever you want with that i'm just in love with Race.

i feel like i’m posting a lot of Davey and a lot of Race. yes, they are my favorites, but i guess they’re your favorites, too, because that’s they way my requests lean. i think one’s cute. enjoy.—Nails

Summer stinks. You felt like you had pulled layers and layers of clothing off. You didn’t feel like you had to hide anymore, which is good. They must’ve stopped sending police officers after you. You had all the reasons in the world to leave, the yelling, the threats, your brother… So you finally up and did.

It was starting to get dark. Starting to get dark meant find a place to sleep. That had been the hardest part of this. Food was easily stolen, and hiding places easily found, but finding a ‘comfortable’ spot to spend the night, where nothing could come to hurt you? Just shy of impossible. Walking all the way down to Central Park was a trek, but it was tonight’s best option, since that nice shop keeper asked you to leave.

Quickly, you’d found a park bench. That would have to do. You laid down, tossing your jacket over you as a makeshift blanket, and tried to get some shuteye. You heard something heavy crunching leaves down. The sounds were coming in you direction. You prayed what you were hearing was a dog, or a really fat squirrel. It stopped right in front of you. “Oh?” A voice whispered.

You dared open your eyes to look up at the sound. It was a boy, about your age. He had wild, ragged blonde hair. Everything else was hard to tell in the dark. “S-Sorry, I’ll leave.” You muttered. You had no clue what compelled you to say that. You were here first.

“No… No, I just came to, uh… Get my bag,” he bent down, not breaking your eye contact, to get a bag half full of newspapers. “See?” He stared at you for what felt almost like a minute. “Why’re you out here this late? Ya lost?” The boy asked.

Were you just going to tell him? You’d just met him, you didn’t even know his name! “This is where I sleep?” You were going to tell him, then. It sounded more like a question, even if it was a statement.

“It ain’t safe out here, Miss.”

“Where am I meant to go, then?”

The boy seemed to contemplate the question for a minute. “Come with me.”

“I don’t even know your name!” You hollered. “I’ve made it just fine out here, and I intend to continue.”

He extended a hand to you, a smile painted across his face. “Racetrack Higgins. Call me Race.” You shook Race’s hand curtly. “Now, do ya want somewhere warm and not outside to sleep, or not?” He folded his arms over his chest.

You looked up at him again, dumbfounded. “Where would I be staying?” This seemed too good to be true.

“’M sure you could stay at the ‘Hatten lodging house with us for a night.” Race scratched the back of his head. “Couldn’t sleep knowin’ a left a pretty girl like yourself out here like this.” He tried.

Sighing, you nodded. “You know what? You win. Because I’m tired, and this bench hurts like hell.” You grabbed your few belongings and stood. “I’m (Name).”

“It’s nice to meet you, (Name). Where’s youse from?”


“How the hell you get all the way out here?”

“… I walked.”

Arya Stark Appreciation Week - Day Seven - (Northern Connection)

“You are Arya of Winterfell, daughter of the north. You told me you could be strong. You have the wolf blood in you.” (ACOK)

i know no queen but the queen in the north who’s name is arya stark. its not even close. honestly. arya has the support of the old gods themselves. she is on her own level. i dare say arya has the spirit of the north in her more than any other character. 

Back at Winterfell, they had eaten in the Great Hall almost half the time. Her father used to say that a lord needed to eat with his men, if he hoped to keep them. “Know the men who follow you,” she heard him tell Robb once, “and let them know you. Don’t ask your men to die for a stranger.” At Winterfell, he always had an extra seat set at his own table, and every day a different man would be asked to join him. […] Arya had loved nothing better than to sit at her father’s table and listen to them talk. (AGOT)

arya’s first connection to the north is it’s people. she has a strong bond to them from the very beginning. whether its serving girls, maids men at arms, or butcher’s boy. arya openly befriends everyone. she’s, affectionately, know as arya underfoot. arya was close to old nan, hodor, and maester luwin. she remembers them even after she’s fled westeros. she has a beautiful reunion with harwn who was one of her father’s men. arya also encounters the northern amy several times: she helps free them from harrenhal, gives the men at the stoney sept mercy, and fights alongside those at the red wedding. this is one of arya’s most important connections to the north. its not just a land. its a people. and arya is devoted to them. 

Needle was Winterfell’s grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan’s stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room.(AFFC)

winterfell is the great castle of the north and from her second chapter arya already longs to return there. and her first chapter was in winterfell so that says a lot. the way it smelled and felt and sounded are a part of what makes up arya’s identity. she has the most intense voyage and return story in asoiaf which will make her homecoming all the more special. 

When her arm grew weary, she sat with her legs over a high limb to catch her breath in the cool dark air, listening to the squeak of bats as they hunted. Through the leafy canopy she could see the bone-white branches of the heart tree. It looks just like the one in Winterfell from here. If only it had been … then when she climbed down she would have been home again, and maybe find her father sitting under the weirwood where he always sat. (ACOK)

the northern religion is nature based. they worship trees. their churches are forests. the heart of the north isn’t in any castle or court. its the wilds. where the heart trees grow, rivers runs, and wolves roam. arya has a serious nature motif in her storyline. she constantly describes the feel of the earth beneath her bare feet, the rain on her face, bark under her hands, the taste of a lake. arya comes alive in the forest. even when she’s in a castle of city. when she falls asleep at night she runs through the trees as a wolf with a great pack at her heels. shes’ associated with trees too. she counts, climbs, and runs through them. gendry calls her a nice oak tree when she wears the acorn dress which represents her own strength of character. it’s a constant aspect of her story. 

“You are too young to be burdened with all my cares,” he told her, “but you are also a Stark of Winterfell. You know our words.”
“Winter is coming,” Arya whispered. (AGOT)

winter is coming. these words have one simple meaning: death. it comes for everyone in the end. this is the morbid foundation for house stark and the north. death is also key aspect in arya’s storyline. through her journey through the war she’s faced with so much death. she ends up in a virtual underworld in braavos. the valyrian words valar morghlis (all men must die) are an interchange phrase with house stark’s motto. they share a meaning. when arya arrives at the house of black and white the kindly man uses a skull glamour to try and frighten her. but arya only kisses the skull and plucks a worm from its eye socket to eat. most people are afraid of death but arya looks the scary, ugly, inevitable truth right in the face. 

The memory made Arya smile, and after that the darkness held no more terrors for her. The stableboy was dead, she’d killed him, and if he jumped out at her she’d kill him again. She was going home. Everything would be better once she was home again, safe behind Winterfell’s grey granite walls. (AGOT)

since death and darkness are recurring elements for the north the stark crypts are an important place. they’re the roots of house stark and a constant reminder, again, that death awaits everyone. even in the darkest, scariest place of winterfell arya still finds comfort. the crypts are a source of strength and power for her. she remembers them fondly. arya doesn’t shy away from her own inner darkness either. she has done difficult, ugly things. but the north is not a kind, gentle, forgiving land. its hard and cold and has no mercy as ned once told catelyn. 

“It’s all blizzards and bearskins up there, and the Starks know no music but the howling of wolves.” (AGOT)

the northerners are a hard people too. they have to be. their entire lives are dedicated to preparing for winter. because of this they’re not frivolous. the charms of southron life, tourneys, fancy septs, songs, are seen as a waste of time and resources. arya never cared for any of that. elaborate gowns and jewels aren’t for her. she has plain sensible taste. the north will be hit the hardest by winter so its more concerned with food and shelter. arya has a similar mentality. she spends most of her time in rags but thats of no concern. what matters is finding food, safety and security. she has forsaken her mothers gods and their hymns and stained glass too. but her father’s gods still hold her heart. 

In the godswood she found her broomstick sword where she had left it, and carried it to the heart tree. There she knelt. Red leaves rustled. Red eyes peered inside her. The eyes of the gods. “Tell me what to do, you gods,” she prayed. (ACOK)

arya has a special connection to the old gods of the north. because they actually play an active role in her storyline. theres a great deal of divine intervention to be found. arya believes they wanted her to have needle, the symbol of her identity. she thinks they delivered raff to her in essos. and they literally answer her prayers. which is huge. normally, when characters pray all they get in response is radio silence. but not arya. when she knelt before the heart tree they spoke to her in ned’s voice and reminded her that she is arya of winterfell, daughter of the north, and that she has the wolf blood. they will not tolerate their daughter forgetting herself. the old gods want her to return to winterfell. when she falls asleep a sea away from them in her dreams a tree is watching her run and it calls her name. 

These wolves are more than wolves, Robb. You must know that. I think perhaps the gods sent them to us. Your father’s gods, the old gods of the north. (ASOS)

another gift the gods gave arya was a direwolf pup. arya has bonded deeply to her wolf, nymeria. even when they’re apart their connection only grows stronger. as does nymeria’s pack. she leads hundreds of wolves. she is the living embodiment of the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. this also drives arya and it is the most northern, wolfish lesson. when winter™ comes the only thing that will matter is survival. all of these elements (nature, winter, death, her people, the north) are working together in her arc to this one end. arya understands better than anyone that they need to stick together. 

She could smell the candles. The scent was unfamiliar, and she put it down to some queer incense, but as she got deeper into the temple, they seemed to smell of snow and pine needles and hot stew. Good smells, Arya told herself, and felt a little braver. Brave enough to slip Needle back into its sheath. (AFFC)

in braavos no trees grow. it would seem that arya’s gods would be unable to take root there and yet the house of black and white has many similarities to the godswood where arya once prayed with her father. they’re both spiritual places with a dark, spooky, quiet vibe. as soon as arya approaches the temple the doors, one weirwood, remind her of the heart tree with its carved moon face. the weirwoods leaves which are compared to a thousand blood stained hands could not be more appropriate for an ancient league of assassins. the color scheme is red, black and white in both places. each contains a deep black pool. it even smells like winterfell to arya. they are seemingly different gods but theres an undeniable connection. 

For a moment Bran thought it was his sister Arya … madly, for he knew his little sister was a thousand leagues away, or dead. And yet there she was, whirling, a scrawny thing, ragged, wild, her hair atangle.

the original people of westeros and the north were the children of the forest. somehow, arya is very connected to them too. it probably has to do with the blood of the first men running through her veins. its that northern magic that has gifted arya will the ability to skinchange. she’s quite good at it despite being untrained. she’s also an excellent climber and swimmer, just like the children were. she’s also called a squirrel and in the giant’s tongue the cotf were known as squirrel people. arya spends a lot of time around some of their most sacred places; high heart and the gods eyes. when we finally see the fabled children of the forest, the very first description we get is a creature bran mistakes for his sister arya. 

The old gods of the north must have been guiding her steps. (ACOK)

and thats not all! arya has the stark look. she’s the only one of her siblings. she resembles her aunt lyanna who was a wild northern beauty. she rides “like a northman”. arya meets the ghost of high heart who’s dreams are given to her by the old gods. the phrase “the north remembers” is very applicable to her character. arya never forgets the injustices she witnessed. the north touches every aspect of arya’s story. it’s in her themes and symbols, her lessons and values, her personality and locations. she is truly a daughter of the north. 

anonymous asked:

Why are you anti-captivity for cetaceans and what started your passion?

I’ve answered this previously but can’t find the post… so:

Basically I was researching hydrophones in Puget Sound, for a story I work on. I ran into information about local orcas, and Tokitae (Orca Network’s stuff.) I’m one of those people who gets lost on Wikipedia because I keep drilling down into a topic. I’d had a vague awareness that people didn’t like orcas being captive, but had basically shrugged it off as PETA nonsense. Because mistreatment wouldn’t allowed, surely there were rules/regulations/etc for the animals’ well-being, etc.

Difficulty being, once I started reading into the topic, it was a rancid wonderland of horrors. The kind you can’t look away from once you notice it.

Similar the way I had a vague understanding that people didn’t like orcas being captive, I had a vague understanding that cetaceans were Pretty Intelligent, so I started looking into that too. That just made the rancid wonderland way worse. 

I was a little frustrated how hard I had to work to find good info to peruse, and at how widespread certain (often baseless?) misconceptions were. So I started to pull things together because my response to this all was to do artwork, but I didn’t want it to contribute to the problem(s.)

I’m anti-captivity for any animal that fares particularly poorly in that state, but cetaceans are on a completely different tier of concern since no part of their environment gets replicated except ‘water.’ Plus noting the various issues caused by marine parks + public + misinformation (directly - eg people feeding wild dolphins, etc - doesn’t even touch the conservation impacts.)

Jack and Crutchie threesome

Is this as bad as I think it is? Probably, please let me know

Requested by anon

Tag list: @sea-creature-anons @avocado-anon @piano-anon @diamond-anon @imperfectanatomy @stargirl-murphy @watch-the-whole-world-disappear @unicorn-anon @hamburger-anon @sunglasses-anon @spade-anon

•Jack and Crutchie were like brothers, nothing would get between them. That’s what they thought at least until you showed up

•you, the girl who sold flowers around their normal selling spot. The girl whose smile stole Crutchie’s heart. The girl whose laugh enchanted Jack to the point where he had a full sketchbooks filled with you

•you had captured both boys attention and both were eager to capture yours. Now both of them knew of each other’s feelings, it was no secret. The thing is neither of them was overly interested in ruining a friendship over a girl, even if it was one of the prettiest girls in New York

•so they came up with a plan, they would confess at the same time. Allow you to make the decision so there was no hard feeling between the two friends.

•at least that was the plan when Jack knocked on your door, Crutchie standing by his side. The tension between the two were unbelievable and only grew when you opened the door

•"Jack, Crutchie! What do I owe the pleasure to?“ You ask, a smile on how face as you step aside to let them in. It wasn’t uncommon for the two to visit but this time felt different.

•"We got somethin’ to ask ya Y/N” Jack spoke first, his tone serious with a hint of nerves. “You see, Crutchie and I have a slight issue involving ya”

•your eyes widened as you glanced over at Crutchies face, his eyes downcast as his ears were tinted pink. Did you do something wrong? Did they… they couldn’t have found out about your feeling right?

•"issue? What kind of issue?“ You prayed your voice was steady. Your hands fiddling with the fabric of your skirt anxiously.

•Crutchie cleared his throat, finally looking up from the floor. “We like ya Y/N, both of us have feelings for you” your heart jumped, you were positive your face was red by now.

•"you… both like me?“ Somehow you managed to speak, your voice shaking as you glance between the two boys. This has to be a joke right?

•"Y/N… we’re here so you can settle this little disagreement me and crutchie have been having” you couldn’t look away from Jake, a small smirk on his face “It obvious that you have feelings for one of us but the question is who”

•you freeze, they were asking you to pick one? Crutchie must have noticed your nerves, his smile brightening slightly “you don’t have to pick now, it’s a lot to take in we can leave and come ba-”

•"I can’t choose” you suddenly speak, looking away from the two shocked boys “I…I can’t choose between you two, I like both of you” a weird sensation of relief and concern washing over you as you confess the secret you’ve held since you first meet them

•"aren’t you being greedy huh?“ Jacks voice suddenly spoke, you heard his footsteps as he approached you, his hand lifting up your chin so he can look you in the eyes “one of us aren’t enough for you is it?”

•his voice was lace with lust as he stared directly into your eyes “if you can’t choose that only leaves us with one option now doesn’t it Crutch?” You stayed silent for a second, your mind racing as the blonde boy started to move behind you

•"I suppose it does Jack… if she can’t choose, I guess we just have to share don’t we?“ Crutchie’s words went straight to your core, your body squirming slightly as Jack’s large hands held your hips tightly

•"exactly… how does that sound doll? No need to choose that way” he purrs, his voice was rough and husky. You didn’t trust yourself enough speak, instead you nod. Eyes glancing behind you at crutchie to see the same burning lust Jacks had

•the instant you nod Jack’s lips were on yours, lips roughly moving against yours. Smoke and coffee filled your taste buds as his tongue eagerly slipped past your lips.

•you moan, arms wrapping around his neck as you get lost in the kiss. As if he was determined not to be forgotten you felt Crutchies hands slide up your body till they reached your breasts, his hands squeezing and pinching. You gasp, your hips bucking against Jacks.

•"I’m here too princess, don’t forget that” crutchies voice rang against your ear as Jake finally pulled away from your lips. To say you were breathless was an understatement

•everything seemed to speed up in that moment. Hands everywhere as clothes got ripped off my eager hands. At some points you didn’t know whose hands were touching where… not that it really mattered in this moment.

•before long you stood naked in front of them, both Jacks and Crutchies eyes soaking in the sight before them. “Look at ya doll… ain’t you a sight to be seen” Jack purrs, his hand grazing your inner thigh as crutchie kissed your neck softly

•"how’s you leg?“ Jack suddenly asked, his fingers moving up till they circled your throbbing clit. A loud moan erupting from you as the dark haired man in front of you seemingly ignoring you.

•crutchie pulled away from your neck long enough to answer, his hands instead moving towards your nipples, fingers pinching them as he answered his friend. “It’s been better, I don’t think I can keep standing for much longer”

•"now that won’t do will it…“ Jacks voice was smug, a smirk playing on his features "why don’t you take a seat on dear Y/N couch… you can have her pretty little mouth while I take her from behind”

•a rush of excitement washed over you, body almost trembling as you watched the blonde boy limp over to the seat, his once innocent smile was replace with one of lust as he sat down.

•"well… don’t just stand there doll go kneel in front of him and wrap your lips around him” Jack purred in your ear, pinching your clit quickly before he pulls away.

•you were already a panting, heart beating against your chest like a jackhammer but without a second thought you found yourself kneeling in front of crutchie

•you felt his hand tangle in your locks giving them a slight tug so you would look up at him. “Ya have know idea how much I wanted to see you like this” he purrs “I admit usually it was just the two of us…” you couldn’t help but laugh as he glanced over at Jack who was currently searching through is discarded pants for a condom

•crutchie leans down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead “I love your Y/N… can you be a good girl for me and wrap your pink lips around me?” His gentle tone made your heart swell. When the two were side by side you could really see the differences between the two friends

•crutchie was far softer, love being shown through every action while Jake was more passionate, his movements focused more on pleasure than anything else. Despite the two being complete opposites you couldn’t help but love the differences

•without having to be asked twice you moved down on Crutchies heard cock. Your senses going wild as you felt his hands tighten in your hair his loud moan filling the room.

•you barely even realised Jake was behind you until you felt a harsh slap on your rear “enjoy yourself doll? The way your squirming I would say you are” you let out a small whine around Crutchies cock, the vibrations forcing him to buck his hips up into your mouth

•Jack positions himself behind you, his hard cock brushing against your needy core “look at that doll… we barely touched you and your almost soaking! Was it the thought of my cock fucking you till you can’t walk straight that got you so excited or does sucking Crutchies cock get your dripping wet?”

•His question caused a shiver to run down your spine, a small moan leaving you. Jacks rough hands moving up your sides as his lips place a rough kiss on your shoulder blade

•a loud gasp left you, if it wasn’t for Crutchies grip on your hair you would have pulled away from his cock. Your mind buzzing when you felt Jack slam into you quickly

•"fuck you feel so good around me doll" Jack growled out, his head leaning on your shoulder as he thrusts his hips. You didn’t know what to concentrate on, the pleasure that was washing over your body thanks to Jack or loud moans and whines from Crutchie.

•the room was filled with moans, Crutchies hand yanking and pulling your hair as he bucked his hips up into your mouth “a-ah sh-shit princess… your mouth feels so good, you look so pretty with your mouth around my cock”

•his words only made your body react more, your nails digging into his thigh. Your eyes almost watering with the amount of pleasure you were experiencing,

•"fuck doll do you like it when praise you? You tightened around me the second Crutchie started talking… who knew you’d be such a needy lil whore"

•Jack’s words went straight to your core. Your body felt like it was on fire, mind buzzing with lust and need as you felt yourself get lost in the moment

•suddenly Crutchie yanked your hair his head thrown back “I’m cunning! Fucking hell princess… don’t pull away, please don’t fu-” his voice was cut off in a strangled moan as he realised

•all you could do was moan as you swallowed around him, Jack’s rough and passionate thrusts still moving your body along Crutchies cock

•the blonde nearly collapsed on the couch, his hand that was once tangled in your hair was now cupping your face. His thumb brushing over your lips with a tired smile on his face

•with your mouth now free your moans were let free. Your body shaking and voice loud as Jacks movements started to go wild, his breathing ragged in your ear

•"J-Jack" you while, your hand moving down to rub your aching clit. “I-I’m close! I-I’m so fucking close” Jack slapped your hand away, replacing your fingers with his

•"then cum, go on look at crutchie while you let yourself go doll" he purred, you could almost hear the smirk on his face as he rubbed small, tight circles on your clit.

•you didn’t have to be told twice, your lust glazed eyes staring up at Crutchie. Your lips parted and face flushed as Crutchie started to mumble words of encouragement

•"come on princess… cum for us. Let me see you beautiful face in pleasure, can you do that for us?“ His tone was soft and gentle, pure love in his tone. His words toppled with Jacks quick and hard movements pushed you over the edge. Screaming out as your oragasm rips through you

•it’s almost like you blacked out, your body shaking in pleasure as you heard Jack groan out in pleasure your name tumbling from his lips as he came alongside you.

•your breathing was heavy as you felt Jack hold you up. He was the only thing stopping you from collapsing onto the hard floor bellow you.

•"Shit… that…that was something” you mumble, managing to look up to stare at Crutches shy face “a good something?” He asked, he sounded almost nervous

•with a laugh you nod “a very good something” you smile, Jack shifting slightly and pulling you close to his chest

•"that’s great news babydoll… cause it would be a shame if this was a one time thing" your heart seemed to stop for a second, quickly you moved so you could stare at both boys. “You mean…” you mumbled quietly

•"well we did both say we had feelings for ya didn’t we?“ Jack said, a small smile spreading on his face while Crutchie nodded along with his words

•your mind started racing, you were sure you looked like a blushing fool but… all you could think about was how much you loved them both

(fourth) first date, asked by @matildaswan - bernie x serena (x)

She asks her to visit; with her head in the crook of her neck, hopeful mouth against her bedwarm skin.

They are huddled together on the front steps of her house, passport clutched in her hand, scarf flung around her neck. Bernie had shuffled dutifully out of bed, stretched out yawns and rubbed at her eyes as she helped her gather every last bit she needed, every part of Serena Campbell she cares to take with her (the rest discarded, left with Bernie). She had nodded, smiled, squeezed her hand; when she had asked her if she didn’t mind locking up, if she didn’t mind not coming to the airport. She doesn’t want a long goodbye, she says. Can’t endure it, she knows.

Keep reading

A Deal Gone Wrong (Jumin x MC)

Mafia! AU: After a narcotics deal goes awry, you get thrown deeper into the Han’s family business.

Word Count: 1254

AFJKDLSAFJ I got really tired for some reason this afternoon and IDK why still even now, but it’s vaguely still around. Also, my arm is weirdly killing me???? Doesn’t really work out too good when you play the violin on a daily basis. Anyhow


“We have to stop by a client’s on the way back to my home I’m afraid,” Jumin said, guilt scattering his face for a moment. “I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Oh no, it’s fine!” You exclaimed, leaning forward in the car seat. “What does the client need?” 

“It’s moreso…what I need.” He adjusted the ends of his gloves, frowning. “They’ve been abusing my family’s narcotics trade, attacking other valuable clients to get their own when they can’t afford it.” 

His family’s business, to say the least, left you uneasy.

And you could see how it dragged him constantly, you being the only thing to light his days.

And even if it left you unsettled, you loved him more than words could describe, and so did he.

You weren’t leaving. 

“And when can they not afford it?” 

“These days…?” He scoffed. “Always.” 

The vehicle skidded to a halt in front of a refined set of apartments, similar to yours although clearly far more opulent. 

Driver Kim give a faint nod of knowing, giving a comforting grin in your direction. 

“Stay here.” He stated, looking towards you, his brow furrowing. “Please, for my sake.” 

“Are you sure it’ll be alright?” You scrunched up your nose, taking his hand. “I don’t want you going in if you might get hurt.” 

“I’ll be fine.” He replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before slipping out. 

You noticed him turn back the jacket of his suit, the smallest bit of a grip to a pistol entering your view.

You tensed. 

“Jumin,” You spoke up, watching as his head whipped to you. “be careful okay?” 

He gave the smallest bit of laughter. “I’m honored that you’re worried about me darling.” He dropped his shoulders. “I don’t deserve it honestly…” 

Before you could go against his statement he cleared his throat. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

You gawked as he made his way inside, an eerie silence taking over the area as though horrible things were only guaranteed to come. 

You began to fiddle with your fingers, desperately searching amongst the windows for some sort of sign from him. 

You couldn’t tell if a sign would be good or bad, however. 

And it only seemed to get worse by the growing minute. 

You tapped your legs against the car floor, your gaze darting between others as though they had a sort of answer. 

There was no sign of him from your angle of the apartments, but you swore even if just for a second, that a ring pierced your ears. 

But still, nothing.

“If it’s any consolation, I think he’ll be alright.” Driver Kim reassured you, dropping his hands from the steering wheel. 

“How many of these things have you come with him for?” 

“Many, I’ve worked with the family since Jumin first came to America,” He sighed. “It’s hard at first…to handle the reality of some these things, but you’ll get used to it.” 

“Is there any way he could get out?” 

“With his father being the boss? He’s expected to take over when he passes. Especially with him being the only child of Mr. Han…I’d say impossible.” 

You bit your lip, fingers trembling. “Does he want out…?” 

“He doesn’t express his feelings to me. I don’t think he wants me anymore involved than I am now. But, I think so- personally.” 

“…T-Thank you.” 

“Of course ma’am.” 

And so you sat, no longer fidgeting quite as much as you used to. 

And eventually, he did come back.

He drew his hair back, a dark glaze in his eyes.

He was no longer wearing his gloves.

Thoughts began to drip into your head as to why, a sickening feeling crawling along the edges of your mind. 

“I’m sorry I took so long,” He muttered, sitting beside you.

“Is that all Mr. Han?” Driver Kim asked, tipping his head back. 

“Yes, I believe so, thank you.” 

When he turned to you, you noticed the soft and light glimmer painting him. 

And you smiled, pushing your worries away. 

“Did it all go okay?” 

He hesitantly nodded. “…I hope it did.”

You noticed the exhaustion that drenched his tone, his body lurching back in the seat as the wind blew through his messy strands. 

You sank against him, entwining your hands as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. “I’m sure it did. It’s over now.” 

And perhaps for the time being it was over. 

It had seemed that way for the next few hours, the two of you in Jumin’s office as you yourself went about reading various books about his former home, beside him.

You had assumed the creaking throughout the house had been from age or maybe his cat, Elizabeth 3rd. 

You were very wrong in your assumption. 

The door was thrashed open, a man with fresh tear stains having been the perpetrator. 

His clothes and hair were ragged, a wild and savage expression contorting him. 

He shot daggers at Jumin, shakily aiming a pistol towards him.

“Y-You killed my brother!” 

Jumin hid you behind him almost immediately, scowling. 

“You need to leave. Now.” 

“I-I bet y-you’d like that wouldn’t you?” The man howled. “J-Just for me to f-forget about this?” 

“I would say that’s in your best interest.” 

“And if I d-don’t?” 

“I just said leaving was in your best interest.” 

“A-And what if I shoot y-you?” 

He didn’t respond, merely raising his eyebrows in doubt. 

“W-Why…?” The man whimpered, chin quivering. “W-Why’d you do it…?” 

“Your brother threatened my family and my other clients. We warned him and he refused.” 

“D-Didn’t you ever think about those t-that cared about him?” 

“He clearly wasn’t thinking about it. Why should I?” 

“D-Don’t talk l-like you knew him!” 

“I did know him.” 

“N-No you didn’t!” 

He pulled the trigger, his weary, unsteady aim instead hitting the wall.

Just beside you.

You screamed.

As though just the idea of you being harmed, was the straw that broke the camel’s back, your fiance quickly shifted.

The man staggered backward, yelling. “I-I’m not afraid to do it!” 

“You’re not?” Jumin growled, a low rumble in his throat. 


“MC,” He spoke your name, a warmth catching him at the sound of your name before dispersing. “Come here.” 

You awkwardly walked forward, staring with horror at the stranger.

You stood beside him, watching in confusion as he pulled you close, taking one of his hands to cover your eyes. 

“W-What…? J-Jumin?” You whispered, drawing your fingertips against his knuckles, a lump growing in your throat. 

He felt colder than ice.

“Well, I’m not either.” 

And you knew in that moment, why he covered your eyes as he snatched out his gun and promptly pulled the trigger. 

Bran Stark deserves better - Part II

Because of what the show has done to Bran Stark, I feel a reminder about Bran’s relationship with different people in the books is needed.

Sansa Stark

  • Back in Winterfell, Sansa had told him that the demons of the dark couldn’t touch him if he hid beneath his blanket. [ASOS]

Arya Stark

  • Robb was to marry one of their aunts, and Arya one of their uncles. “She never will,” Bran said, “not Arya,” [ACOK]

  • Meera reminded Bran of his sister Arya. She wasn’t scared to get dirty, and she could run and fight and throw as good as a boy. [ACOK]

  • A cloud of ravens was pouring from the cave, and he saw a little girl with a torch in hand, darting this way and that. For a moment Bran thought it was his sister Arya … madly, for he knew his little sister was a thousand leagues away, or dead. And yet there she was, whirling, a scrawny thing, ragged, wild, her hair atangle. [ADWD]

  • Now two children danced across the godswood, hooting at one another as they dueled with broken branches. The girl was the older and taller of the two. Arya! Bran thought eagerly, as he watched her leap up onto a rock and cut at the boy. But that couldn’t be right. If the girl was Arya, the boy was Bran himself, and he had never worn his hair so long. [ADWD]


  • Bran could not recall the last time he had been in the crypts. It had been before, for certain. When he was little, he used to play down here with Robb and Jon and his sisters.He wished they were here now; the vault might not have seemed so dark and scary. [AGOT]

  • Summer’s howls were long and sad, full of grief and longing. Shaggydog’s were more savage. Their voices echoed through the yards and halls until the castle rang and it seemed as though some great pack of direwolves haunted Winterfell, instead of only two … two where there had once been six. Do they miss their brothers and sisters too? Bran wondered. [ACOK]

  • “I’d sooner be a wolf. Then I could live in the wood and sleep when I wanted, and I could find Arya and Sansa. I’d smell where they were and go save them. [ACOK]

  • I bet that he could learn to fly too, him and Arya and Sansa, even baby Rickon and Jon Snow. We could all be ravens and live in Maester Luwin’s rookery. [ADWD]

Part I
Part III
Part IV