There Is Nothing Broken That Can't Be Fixed...

[johannathemad]

Mulan in modern AU

[eldestwand-deactivated20170517]

Imagine a Gryffindor and a Slytherin who both embody every stereotype of their house. They end up getting paired together in potions class, and they abhor one another. They fight over everything and end up getting into a fight one lesson, and after the Slytherin hexes the Gryffindor, the latter dunks the former’s head into the cauldron. Snape gives them both detention for a week, and on the second night he has to leave early, but he threatens them if they misbehave. Both students are slightly scared of the professor, so they continue scrubbing the classroom floors.

They end up talking to each other, and they find out that they both hate Snape and they both think Dumbledore is a little mad. Miraculously, they start to bond, and by the end of the week’s detentions, they’re friends. But of course, if anyone knew they didn’t hate each other, they would be ruined. So they stage little fights that get them detention together throughout the year. And at the end of the year they realize they’re in love.

The two visit each other over the summer, and over the next couple years they date in secret until their seventh year when the Gryffindor surprises everyone and bends down on one knee in the Great Hall.

Years later, the couple’s pair of twins start their first year at Hogwarts. They’re sure that their children will either be in Slytherin or Gryffindor, and they don’t care which.

But to their surprise, the girl is sorted into Ravenclaw. She says the hat told her she was in Ravenclaw because she had been raised to be open minded, accepting, unique, and just a little eccentric. She also didn’t have a bad mind.

And the boy is sorted into Hufflepuff because the hat told him he had been raised to be kind, fair, hard-working, and to treat everyone the same, no matter their label.

The Gryffindor and Slytherin who started out embodying their houses’ stereotypes became the family who broke all stereotypes.

[midget7xrp]

Weird Headcanon Meme for Terry in Circus!Verse and Lost Boys =P

Circus!Verse

What they smell like: Summer days spent outside, old, well loved books with yellowing and dog eared pages.

How they sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc): Curled up on his side, pillow tucked in front of him, one arm wrapped around to hold it close. He doesn’t move much in his sleep, unless he’s having nightmares again. 

What music they enjoy: As a kid he doesn’t listen to a lot of music, just whatever is playing around the circus. As he gets older (and angrier, more bitter) He develops a liking for metal, though the silly part of him that still enjoyed more upbeat tunes.

How much time they spend getting ready every morning: Not much, to be honest. From child to adult, he spends as little time getting ready as possible, unless there’s a good reason to take care in his appearance.

Their favorite thing to collect: Books. His room looks like a small library. He’ll read anything.

Left or right-handed: Right handed mostly, though there are some things that he can use his left hand for just about as well as his right.

Religion (if any): “Like my teacher taught me when I heard the crowd applaud, I thought I was an atheist until I realized I’m a God“

Favorite sport: “Does killing zombies count as a sport?”

Favorite touristy thing to do when traveling (museums, local food, sightseeing, etc): He hasn’t done much traveling but he likes to do all the typical touristy things in a location, get cheesy pictures then start looking into all the places the locals go. 

Favorite kind of weather: No particular preference here. 

A weird/obscure fear they have: Lime Jello. He got it from his mother, and there’s no particular reason he himself is afraid of the jiggly substance.

The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail: Most of them, unfair advantages and all of that. 

Lost Boys

What they smell like: Colonge (Gucci Guilty, Versace Eros, True Religion Drifter and Abercrombie Fierce)

How they sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc): On his back or his stomach, sprawled out and naked as a jaybird. He’s a late sleeper, as his job has him up until the wee hours of the morning. 

What music they enjoy: Things with heavy bass that are good to dance to, even when he isn’t working. Any song that makes people uncomfortable, either because of explicitly sexual or funny lyrics.

How much time they spend getting ready every morning: When he’s not working, maybe five or ten minutes. He finds clean clothes, brushes his teeth walks around barefoot or in flip flops. If he’s getting ready for a show, it’s a much longer and more detailed process. The other male dancers (and Ruby, but she’s almost one of them anyway) call him Princess for a reason. 

Their favorite thing to collect: Lighters and phone numbers.

Left or right-handed: Right handed

Religion (if any): “If there is a God, he’s not worth my time.”

Favorite sport: Football, both European and American versions.

Favorite touristy thing to do when traveling (museums, local food, sightseeing, etc): The above answer is pretty true across all verses.

Favorite kind of weather: Hot, sunshiney. Beach weather.

A weird/obscure fear they have: Dying alone. Fuck all if he lets anyone know that, but his lifestyle isn’t exactly conducive to long term relationships, and Terry is honestly afraid he’ll never grow up enough to commit to something that isn’t stripping.

The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail: He’s scary good at pinball.

[cabiriaminerva]

[thehowepariah-archive]

Send an ask describing what you think my character smells like.

[winningnotcaring]

[mymouthisfullofstars]

they say it’s in your blood, your bones; born for war, they call you. and maybe that’s true, maybe you were. but that doesn’t stop you from waking up at night, sand on your skin, copper on your tongue, and his hand slipping from yours. a nightmare. a flashback. they tell you it’s normal for people like you for men who were born for war.   is it worth it? is he? maybe they were right and you were born for war. maybe it’s in your blood, your bones. or maybe he just needs your help, and there’s no better reason to get back in.

some stuff you leave out there, other stuff you bring back (via mymouthisfullofstars)

[pr1nceshawn]

If we always helped one another, no one would need luck.

[deadmugen]

If we all helped each other, the world wouldn’t suck

[vinca-roseaaa]

I love this.

[petermorwood]

I always reblog things like this so people can know they happen, and there are worse ways to start a week.

[nightofstarfallanddreams]

It’s illegal to feed the homeless here in NC so Amber and I accidentally order too much and invite people to eat with us.

I’ll always remember the homeless hungry man who walked into a restaurant looking for food and we invited him to sit with us and eat.

[charlidos]

A young Tom Hardy in a very rare photo from L'Uomo Vogue March 2002 - by David Bailey and styled by Tom Ford.

The photo was scanned from the magazine by me.

[itisntapityparty]

send me five times kissed for a drabble about five times our muses kissed

[chaoticvictors-archive]

Send “You’re hot when you’re angry” for my muse’s reaction to your muse saying this.

[tarnishedson-new]

Disastrous Bromance || Terje Thorson and Mike Ross

[winningnotcaring]

Whether or not Mike recognized the evil glint in Terry’s eye, Percy did - and Harvey did for damn sure.  “No, no.  That’s about all I’ve got for this group,” he explained, eyes continuing to flick back over the kid - Mike - standing next to his party animal cousin.  “The rest of the work will be on my end, but if we can keep ourselves out of the news for the next three months or so, that will go a long way toward making sure we don’t get tagged with the worst of it.”

And if he looked specifically at Terry when he said that part, exactly no one was surprised.

Behind Harvey, Percy looked both thoughtful and amused; for those who knew her, it was a terrifying combination.  “Since you’re so excited to have him on board, why don’t you boys show Harvey about?  He’s going to be in and out quite a bit… wouldn’t do for him to get lost.”

For his part, Harvey shot her a pointed - slightly distrustful - look over his shoulder.  He hadn’t been in since a lot of the expansions, sure, but it wasn’t rocket science…  

She was up to something and he wasn’t entirely certain he liked it.

[ifoundyourmistake]

Mike was no stranger to that glint in Terry’s eye, either, but he was a stranger to anything approaching self-preservation. 

Clearly. 

“There’s no way the two of you are related,” Mike muttered, eyeing Harvey out of the corner of his eye even as he spoke to Terry, his flattened expression shifting to something a little measuring, a little curious, and just a touch appreciative. He threw Terry a smirk as that sound advice was aimed directly at his friend, popping an eyebrow up for a second, but even though he was chuckling into the backs of his knuckles, he found he couldn’t keep his eyes on his roommate for long. 

He hadn’t missed the way the other man’s eyes kept flickering back over him, and he found that scoping gaze did something no one else had managed to do in a very long time: it made him feel light as well as pleased and curious, making it difficult to control the corners of his mouth as they tried to pull up into a smile that was…almost coy. 

You know, if it had been allowed out. 

That gaze also meant that when Percy ordered he and Terry to show Mr. Specter around, the reaction was not the tantrum she had perhaps intended. Mike snapped to attention, one arm behind his back, but rather than keep his head straight he tilted it to one side as he gave Percy a salute, finally allowing his lips to curl with a smile–

And if his eyes slipped over to Harvey Specter as he nodded his head and responded with a playful–incorrigible– ‘Yes, sir!’, well. 

Could anyone blame him? 

[tarnishedson-new]

There’s a clearing of his throat at the salute and those two words, and an exaggerated roll of his eyes. He knows Mike well enough to place that particular sort of playful attitude. A well meaning shoulder-bump and Terje is dragging Mike forward, probably by a belt loop, letting go only long enough to pull his cousin into a hug like it hadn’t been a least a couple of years since they’d done more than send cards on holidays. “Look at you. You dapper fuck.”

He pulls back and makes a grand sort of gesture. “Harvey, Mike. Mike? Harvey. Don’t be scared, he only bites if you ask nicely.” There is barely a breath, not wanting either of them to get to much chance to think about that particular statement right away, before he was asking the next question. “How did Sis bully you into this particular position?”

“I do not bully anyone into anything Terje. Persuade often, coerce... Possibly. It’s not my fault that you’re still as weak willed as ever.” The words were like crystallized honey dripping off Thyra’s tongue. Sweet but rather sharp. Long eyelashes batted for a minute before a sort of chuckle curled the corners of painted lips upward. “Be careful with these two Harvey. If you thought Terje was a terror, the two of them are double the trouble.”

She leaves them with one significant look leveled at the three men. 

“On that happy note, lets start the tour, shall we?” Hands clapped together with these words and an excited grin stretched across his face.

[larry-capija]

How to be a Stripper

[2-shane-s]

[angstmemes]

Reblog if your muse can speak more than one language.

[kaminohikari-archive-blog]

Reblog if your muse can sing.

[ringmasterking]

Rings and Reparations || Terje & The Ringmaster

[tarnishedson-new]

Thyra did not have to feel the same things that either of the men in the room would be able to feel from that ring to know what it was. Her normally warm honey gaze sharpened to something intense as she straightened in her seat.

“Terje, where did you get that?” She hoped beyond hope that Veles had given it to the boy before he had disappeared, that this didn’t mean what she thought it might. But she knew her brother to well for that to be much of a hope.

“I’m SORRY! Veles was gone, you were sad! I wanted to find him and bring him back!” The words are sharp, defensive in the way little children are when they know they’ve probably done something wrong but don’t necessarily understand why. “But he wouldn’t come back.” Wide blue eyes spilled over with tears that he tried to rub away, fists pressed tightly against closed lids for a minute. “I.. I couldn’t make him better. I tried. I swear I tried! He made me promise to give that to you. I didn’t know when. Veles asked me to take care of you but I didn’t know how. I… I…

The sentence stuttered off into nothing. There was no way in his little mind to explain that he had been curled up against Veles’s shoulder when the man had finally let go of that particular host. That particular memory flashed through his mind, and he realized to late that he hadn’t kept it private. Little shoulders hunched as he twisted himself half away from Loki, eyes scrunched up and barely breathing.

[ringmasterking]

The pain written on every inch of Loki’s face increased exponentially as Terje explained where he’d been, where he’d gotten the ring–how he’d tried to help. It broke Loki’s already shattered heart still further, but that was nothing, nothing compared to the nauseating agony of the memory that screamed at him from that little, unguarded mind. 

“You were there.”

The words were nothing more than a whisper, nothing more than air, but yet they were packed with so much. Pain, betrayal, shock, concern, confusion–the list went on and on, more packed into those three words than anyone could have guessed possible. Loki’s gaze dropped from Terje to the empty space between them, his eyes whipping back and forth as he tore through that hint of a memory over and over again. And when he could tear apart that segment no longer, Loki pushed himself heavily to his feet. 

He couldn’t be there anymore. 

Once the numbness that had just settled into his heart faded, it was going to be ugly–and he was through with spitting venom where it didn’t belong. 

Loki picked Terje up without asking and held him close, tears still pouring down his own face. 

“I love you, Terje. I love you, and I would never send you away,” He murmured, and then, voice thick with tears and adamancy, he added, “Never.” His arms tightened still further around the little boy he’d come to love so dearly, the boy who had witnessed his mother’s murder and now had had to endure this, and then he gently set him back on the ground with a kiss to his hair, his face cupped momentarily in Loki’s still-trembling hands. 

“I have to go. But I won’t be gone long, I’m not leaving.” Not again. “And I’m not upset with you. You had nothing to do with this.” Loki straightened and looked at Thyra, a hint of the storm to come evident in a single twitch of his lip. 

Make sure he stays here. Make sure he knows I am not angry. Make sure he knows he’s safe. 

[tarnishedson-new]

Small arms clung to broad shoulders again, damp face pressed tight as he snuffles, only wiping his eyes as he was set back on his feet. He tried to smile just a little, be brave for his Uncle and just believe the words that offered so much comfort. His young, skeptical mind wouldn’t let the words sink in yet.

 The last time he had seen Loki upset in any fashion that wasn’t angry, he had left.

Thyra had risen to her feet during the exchange, lips tipped in a worried sort of frown, reaching a hand out and touching his arm lightly. The unspoken words had her nodding slowly, a deep breath pulled into her lungs before she squeezed Loki lightly and then turned to lift her brother up onto her hip like she had done when he was smaller and they had first walked into Loki’s life.

“We’ll be here or helping feed the animals.” There’s an almost amused quirk to Thyra’s mouth at those quiet words. Terje rarely remembered to be upset when he got to be anywhere near the circus’s menagerie.