#lookalie

[kalemakar]

the paris squad alignment chart (insp) @lgbtqcreators creators challenge: free choice

[g0dtier]

i swear they make k pop boys in a lab

[skyward-floored]

Do you have any idea how tempted I was to just copy paste the entire list of fics? ANYWAYS-

“The Time & Legend whumptober continuation” :D

“Various Incredibles au “oneshots” :)

“An original zelda idea l've been messing with” XD

The Time and Legend Whumptober continuation

Ohhh this is my evilest wip, I went absolutely ham on the angst in this guy. It’s a continuation of a whumptober I wrote in 2021, and a lot of people really wanted a continuation.

So I started out writing just a short thing, but then it grew, and grew and grew and grew and now I have over 13k of this fic in which everyone has a very very very bad time. I was working on it a little today actually :)

“That’s... going to b-be a problem,” he rasps, and Time helps him shift into a better position, where he ends up leaning heavily on the old man’s shoulder with a bitten-back groan.

Time takes one look at Legend’s bad arm and realizes it’s merely dislocated, rather than broken like he originally feared. He runs a careful hand over the veteran’s arm and shoulder, and Legend bites back a whine.

“F-fix it,” he bites out, and Time sighs.

“Vet you’ve got other more pressing injuries, we should bandage them before we try to—”

“Please,” Legend whispers, and the lack of snark immediately convinces Time. A long, measured breath escapes his mouth, and he changes his position, holding Legend’s arm down as he prepares to slot it back into place.

Various Incredibles au oneshots

Once again, going to put this under a cut because this post would be very long without it :)

These are lots of little bits and ficlet things that will probably one day become oneshots, but for now are just little ideas I write down that I don’t want to forget. Some are more put together than others though, such as the one this bit is from!

“I don’t know if we can make it across that,” Warriors said uneasily, squinting at the rain that blocked their view. “The river rose fast...”

“If we don’t cross now though, we might not be able to get back for some time,” Artemis replied, her eyes still bright with worry.

They exchanged looks again, then Warriors grabbed an umbrella, and got out of the car.

“Link, don’t do anything foolish,” Artemis warned, then also got out of the car, following after him to where he stood by the bank of the river.

“I’m not doing anything foolish, I’m just seeing if we’ll be able to get across,” Warriors refuted, then handed her the umbrella. “Here, I’m going to get a closer look.” Then he paused and handed her his scarf as well, putting it around her shoulders with a grin. “Don’t get it wet.”

“Be careful,” Artemis warned, and Warriors gave her a cocky grin before stepping out from the shelter of the umbrella, near immediately getting soaked.

An original zelda idea I’ve been messing with

I’ve mentioned this one a handful of times, but the basic gist is that the Link in this story (I call him Lost) gets corrupted by the bad guy (Vaati im thinking). It’s up to Zelda to travel across Hyrule and discover the identities of the six sages in order to stop the villain and un-corrupt Link, who functions similarly to Ghirahim in that he’s actively hunting her and has to be fought multiple times.

I’ve written bits of it now and then just to play with ideas, but I don’t know if it’ll ever be a real “fic”. Either way, I like talking about it, and I’ve even designed some characters and things :)

Here’s one of the parts I’ve written!

Zelda took a slow breath in, steeling herself for the words about to come out of Impa’s mouth.

“The Hero has been corrupted.”

The room went into an uproar but Zelda barely heard it, biting her lip so hard it nearly drew blood. Link, her best friend, and really only friend aside from Impa, had been twisted into little more then a puppet for Ambassador Vaati to use as he pleased.

She felt distantly like she was going to throw up.

“—doesn’t even have the blade! Are we certain the boy is the hero?” one of her councilors boomed, “for all we know Vaati merely created a lookalike of our best knight to frighten us! Are we even certain the boy is still ali—”

“That’s quite enough,” Impa said sternly, then placed a hand on Zelda’s shoulder. “We have firsthand reports of what happened. Captain Link is who has been corrupted.”

[lawain-dimensional-heroes]

"Oh c'mon, how outdated is my idea-- I'm not a damn lookali--"

"!?" Aaaaaand she just realized that she actually spoke using her original...Senti voice

[autumnslance]

How did you start writing for Aeryn as only a fanfic/short stories? How do you not want to Rp with her? Also how do you play multiple characters?

In the order I felt like answering and it got long so:

Also how do you play multiple characters?

Irresponsible use of my free time. I am happily single and have no kids; just a roommate and our two cats. I also have a steady 8 to 5 Mon-Fri work schedule and currently work from home, and am a natural introvert who'd rather hermit than go out anyway. So I have the time and money to do as I like right now; it's kinda novel, actually.

Iyna and C'oretta do languish in older content (Stormblood and Shadowbringers respectively right now), and only unlock some things as I slowly catch them up, and I feel free to buy boosts as needed. I do most things on Aeryn and Dark, and even then I end up focusing on one or the other, or alternating. I'll likely get to the alts later in the patch cycle.

Having played WoW where multiple alts were an expectation of that set up (and before things were shared across one's account), and wanting to replay the MSQ before New Game+ existed, it didn't seem that alien a concept to me, nor did developing stories and roleplay personalities for them as well. C'oretta was a surprise who formed over a few months of playing her. Iyna came to mind with a solid backstory and personality already, just a few new details here and there cropping up as time goes on, as I never meant to make a viera at all.

As a note, all my WoW RP characters had not only backstories I wrote, but also reactions and interactions with the main storylines, or stories I made up each expac, that were not RP but solo fic adventures. I should really make a pseud and throw a bunch of them on Ao3 sometime.

How do you not want to Rp with her?

I've fallen out of love with open world roleplay entirely. While it was much of my time in WoW, and I initially intended to, I found I didn't have the energy or interest in joining the FFXIV RP community and all that would entail. The time and commitment requirements, not to mention all the petty dramas, felt like too much. I'm fairly shy and awkward (like a lot of RPers!) and I simply hit a point where the effort wasn't worth the cost anymore. I'm old and tired.

I do sometimes RP little scenes with my FC, cuz most of us have played and written together for about a decade and a half now, but it's really just hanging around our house between queues and discussing headcanons and sometimes doing some collaborative writing (or just signing off on someone's use of a character in their stories). I very occasionally take Dark to RP events.

Some folks can do two versions of their character; a roleplay version and the Warrior of Light version for MSQ. I couldn't do that with Dark Autumn once I set her story and role in my mind, and C'oretta wasn't even meant to stick around past the Ul'dah intro, but similar deal there.

Aeryn was written specifically to be a Warrior of Light, going through the MSQ as Hydaelyn's Champion. I never asked my FC to see her as anything but another Echo-having adventurer when we hang out together, but they do what they want.

I get my roleplay fix in D&D games played with friends for a couple hours most weekends, using online virtual tabletops even before the pandemic. I've never liked Tumblr RP--this is a terrible medium for it--though Discord's worked out decently a few times.

How did you start writing for Aeryn as only a fanfic/short stories?

I go over it a bit in the one link in my Pin Post. I was noticing how folks were perfectly OK with having their own Warriors of Light, the way I'd seen folks have their own Shepherds and Wardens/Hawkes/Inquisitors in Bioware fanfiction. Having come from a different RP and fic writing environment on my old WoW server, it was new and something I mulled over, as I never wrote fics for my own Bioware OCs. Then I found out about the CGI Midlander Woman, and mulled some more. If some folks made male Meteor lookalike WoLs, why not a lady WoL using that base image? I did make a few adjustments (not so pale for one) but overall she's inspired by that image, as is some of her lore in regards to Ardbert and her own brother.

Her backstory IS set up so that if I ever DID RP her as an "Echo-having adventurer" in public RP, it all works just as well without the "specialness" of being The WoL, but my creative outlet is satisfied just writing and being totally in control of her story and development, creating her as able to stand on her own. Well, barring unexpected relationships, anyway.

My intent was to go through the MSQ again and see what an actual WoL, played fairly close to the game's assumption of a helpful, brave, eccentric, altruist would react like--not my own reactions, playing through it on RP characters who weren't actually the Hero themselves--and not have her be in a romance with any NPC cuz wouldn't that be different from so many WoLs I saw? I couldn't fathom OCNPC shipping anyway, it was a cute thing others did but not for me.

We all see how well that last part worked for me (Dammit Thancred), but it's turned out OK, I think.

So to summarize: I specifically built my characters so I could RP if I chose, but am also happy discovering their stories and personalities by writing fic on my own for them. My priorities and how I enjoy RP have shifted with time and life situations, preferring familiar, small closed groups over open world community RP. I'm lucky to have longtime RP groups I can indulge that hobby with, as well as a current adult life that lets me play and write as I like.

[moved-19871997]

george a couple years ago 🤝 george w long hair and a headband: shawn mendes lookali[gunshots]

[writingsbychlo]

more ways than one (06)

word count; 5207

summary; everyone finds out your secret, and shit kinda hits the fan.

notes; it’s pretty intense, but I promise that you’ll love it.

warnings; mentions of a panic attack, injury description, blood and gore.

It was a boring day when everything fell apart, and despite your shock and worry, you had to know it was coming soon.

A new problem always arose in your life, something always came up to shatter the peace. Just as the ripples on the surface of the pond began to smooth out, something else threw a pebble at the water, and during this quaint little time of peace, a new threat had been winding up with their aim set perfectly. 

You were in the supermarket, filling a basket with the various snacks you’d come to know that V liked over the past few weeks, when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You ignored the first one, and the second one, but soon the text alerts were flipping to that of an incoming call, and it was with a deep sigh that you paused in your perusing of different cereal bars and moved your attention to your phone, fishing it from your pocket. 

Lydia’s name flashed across the screen, and you rolled your eyes fondly, dragging your thumb over the green button and lifting it to your ear. “Hey, Lyds! You know, now actually isn’t such a great time f-”

“Yeah, you’ve been saying that all summer, you know.” You gaped at her snippy comment, pouting to yourself as guilt filled you, and yet you didn’t even have a chance to respond before she was barrelling on. “Would that have anything to do with the Stiles lookalike I’m currently staring at?”

Your stomach flipped, feeling as though it had suddenly filled with cement, and your palms went clammy, your mouth dry as you stuttered out your response; “What?”

“Yeah, there’s an impersonator for your best friend here at the loft, insisting to call you, and so here we are. Care to explain?” Her tone was short and aggressive, and you could tell she was mad at you, though you already knew she would be, it was inevitable, and yet you had thought you’d have more time to prepare yourself for this moment. 

You hadn't been planning to keep it a secret forever, you had wanted to tell them, and yet you had wanted to do it on your own terms, when the secret man you were harbouring in your friend’s home had been ready, and now you were panicking. You could barely catch your breath, your chest feeling like it was pushing in on itself, and you were becoming unsettling familiar with panic attacks. 

“(Y/N?) You there?” Her tone was softer, and she could hear you panting, struggling for breath once again, but you were already fishing for your car keys in your bag, hanging up the phone and shoving it lazily back into your purse. Your cart had been abandoned in the aisle, your hands shaking as you tried to unlock the car, and you hopped up into the seat, strapping yourself in and taking a deep breath.

Your eyes closed as you tried to calm yourself, jumping once again when your phone buzzed, Stiles’ face flashing up on your screen when you pulled it out to look at it. You considered just ignoring it, you considered letting it go to voicemail, but it kept on going, clearly, he wasn’t giving up and so you reached out for the device and took it. 

“Stiles.” Your voice was croaky, as you tried to hold back tears, but the moment your eyes closed you felt one drip along your cheek. He cooed at you, mumbling into the phone and you heard him shuffle away from everyone else, the shouting in the room fading away. 

“Oh, honey, I’m not mad.” Transferring the phone to the car speakers, you started up the vehicle, nervously pulling out of your parking space and heading for the building you were suddenly dreading approaching, having been so excited for this trip only ten minutes prior. “You hung up on Lydia, and you’ve been acting weird all summer. We were just worried, but now you’re okay. You’re okay, right?”

“I’m okay, Stiles. Don’t hurt him, alright? I’ll be there soon.” Your words were stuttered out, and he sighed into the phone, not out of anger or frustration, but simply from stress. 

“I won’t, (Y/N), but I’d be quick. It’s not me you have to worry about.” He paused, muffled talk on the end of the phone as he covered the speaker, and you slammed your hand into the steering wheel, pressing your foot down even harder on the pedal as you picked up the speed. “Look, I wasn’t the one who found him. You need to get here soon.”

The line went dead, and you tried to steady your racing heart, and stave off the oncoming panic attack. The drive felt like it had dragged on for hours, your eyes constantly flicking down to the clock, and only seven minutes had passed since you had left the store. You didn’t even bother locking the car, swiping the keys and your bag from the seat and racing your way upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. 

Your muscles ached and burned, screaming out in protest as you ran three entire floors uphill in what felt like it had only been thirty seconds flat. You were gasping for breath upon reaching the loft, the shouting inside having been echoing clearly through the building from the open door to the main living area, hitting your ears from the very second you’d stepped inside. Anger flooded through you as you took in the sight inside, and you took a deep breath to contain yourself. 

Your friends were all gathered around, varying expressions of concern to anger to confusion across their faces, and Stiles was the first to notice you. His arms were crossed around his middle, hunched over and chewing on the nail of his thumb when his eyes met yours, and he seemed to light up a little bit, Scott clapping a hand on his shoulder as he took you in, and your flannel-wearing friend skidded across the floor to you.

You glanced over his shoulder, brows furrowing at the group huddled around where you assumed your not-so-hidden friend to be, growling and yelling filling your ears, and while Stiles tried to grab you, you forced your way through.

Sitting on the floor, back to the wall was a very scared looking V, his eyes wide and frantic, claiming only a little when he saw you. His lip was busted, a red mark that was bleeding from a slight graze was hidden under his hairline, and you whipped around form him to face down your friends. Derek stared at you, teeth bared, wolf-side on full display as claws were bared when he pointed at you and you glared right back at him, holding your ground. 

Cora was by his side, and you shot her a quick glare, your jaw tense and shoulders squared as you stepped towards the two, your other friends all still talking, questions pouring from them, threats and wondering and your head was practically pounding from the noise and rowdy chaos already, and so you could only imagine the way the man cowering on the floor must feel. 

“Back the fuck up.” You were met with a growl from both Cora and Derek, and you raised your brows challengingly. “Are you going to maul me like a rabid fucking dog? If not, I said back off.”

Derek sighed, his claws pulling back, and he retreated back into himself, returning to his normal form, all except for his eyes which continued to glow at you, and Cora crossed her arms, sneering at you as she turned her back to you both, stalking across the room and upstairs as she mumbled insults and cruel words at you. Silence settled over the room, and you ignored them all, turning away and dropping to your knees, letting out a heavy sigh as you took in the worried face of the man before you. 

“Are you okay?” He shot you a look, to ask if you were really serious about that question, but you shuffled forward on your knees toward him, and he leaned up to face you better. Your hands cupped his cheeks, smoothing his hair back to look at the injury on his head, and you glared over your shoulder at the male wolf you assumed to have inflicted such an injury, and he at least had the dignity to look a little sheepish. 

His hands came up, covering yours gently and bringing them down from his face, your attention snapping back to him as he gave you a small smile, whispering his response as he let your connected hands fall to his lap. “I’m okay.”

“C’mon, let’s get you up.” You rocked back onto your feet, pulling him up to stand with you, and he was once again towering over you. He was practically pressed to your back once you turned back to your friends, and they all practically took a collective intake of breath as they prepared to fire off their questions at you once again. Holding your hand up, you looked at them all, feeling a pair of slightly cooler to the touch fingers slip in between yours, and you looked down at your hand, not the only one to do so, but you squeezed back reassuringly. “One question at a time, or we’re leaving.”

As if to make a point, Scott closed the loft door, and you rolled your eyes in exasperation, but returned your attention to the group. Derek was the first to speak up, as you’d have expected, and you braced yourself for anything he may say as he stepped forward. 

“How long has he been here?”

You grinned, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, having expected more to have been yelled or cursed at, and you shrugged, playing with his fingers between your own absentmindedly. “Since the beginning of the summer, not long after you left.”

“And why exactly is he here?” Allison piped up, and you moved to looking at her, feeling the man beside you shuffle a little closer, switching between his feet nervously. 

“I had to keep him somewhere, he was hurt when I found him.” 

The questions kept going, breaking up your explanation as they all took turns firing away in wonder until the story was almost entirely out int he open, but the more you got off of your chest was the more you panicked, because Stiles had yet to say anything, his eyes fixed on the floors as he took it all in. 

You could understand why; it was a lot. 

Everybody seemed to be reeling from your words. Knowing that you’d found this lookalike, having fought with him so much at first as you all but nursed him back to health, and he soothed your panic attacks. You’d spent almost your entire summer locked away here in the loft, teaching him how to cook and care for himself, how to use technology and teach him about everything he needed to know.

Stiles was the final question, his eyes meeting yours as he finally looked up at you, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Why does he look like me?”

Your jaw snapped shut, but your eyes stayed locked with his, and you worried about the words in your head while trying to think about what to say. 

“That one is a little harder to explain.”

-----------------

The atmosphere around you all seemed to have cooled down, and you were sitting on the couch, the others sprawled out around you as you sat with your legs slung across your best friend’s lap, his hands smoothing up and down your calf, as he processed the story you had just told him. V was on the floor at the other side of the coffee table, watching on carefully and in silence as other’s milled about the loft. Kira and Scott were mumbling to one another about it all from the armchair, Malia was eating leftovers from the fridge and Lydia was bobbing a tea bag in her mug, blowing the steam off delicately as she clutched it in her hands.

The atmosphere was tense, you could tell there was still a simmering rage aimed at you for not telling them about what had happened, and yet you couldn’t find it within yourself to care because it was finally all out in the open, and he gave you a small smile as he finally looked up at you. 

“Guardian angel, huh?”

You grinned, nodding your head as Stiles sent you a dopey smile, and you reached a hand out to ruffle his hair. “Can you believe it?”

“Well, y’know, werewolves exist, I was possessed by a demon, Jackson turns into a cannibalistic iguana cosplayer, so why not?” He joked, and you shook your head, lolling back into the couch and closing your eyes for a split second, the tension leaving your body as you relaxed. Despite the anger that still resided towards your deceit, you no longer felt like you had to deal with the growing stress of keeping a secret from the people you cared about the most. “I do have a question, though.”

“Hmm?” 

“What exactly is going on between the two of you?” He pointed his finger between you and the man who looked exactly like him, who was currently occupied by a casual interrogation disguised as a chat with Allison, and you turned to look at Stiles. He only fixed you with a knowing look, his eyebrows raised and lips pursed, sealing away the cheeky smirk on his face. “It’s clearly something. But, it doesn’t change anything between the two of us, right?”

“God, no, never. I’ve seen you throw up all over yourself after eating a whole bag of curly fries and drinking seven of your dad’s beers before dancing on a table.”

“Hey, now, that was a good day.” He tucked you close to him, pulling you under is arm until your face was pressed into his side, and you scowled, your face screwing up as you tried to push away from him. 

“You smell! Get off me, when did you last wash your shirt? Or your pits for that matter?” 

He grinned, laughing it off, before beginning to talk your ear off about something you weren’t paying attention to, instead choosing to look to back to the other man, his eyes flicking to yours as Allison continued to barricade him with questions and ideas, your lips forming a smile, one eye dropping in a lazy wink, and he returned the sentiment by letting his lips twist up at the sides to smile back. 

For a good two or three hours, you felt the worries of the world slip away. The benefactor, the supernatural, everything slipped form your mind. The rest of the group had a lot of questions for V, and so as some kind of peace offering, Derek ordered in a fair amount of pizza for the group, and you found yourself leaning against his side, your legs crossed, his spread out before him and a box of pizza sitting between them, half-eaten as you shared the large wheel. 

It almost felt like this could become your new normal, like everything could go back to the way it once was, before Scott got bitten and before your life was flipped upside down, and for the first time in a long time, you weren’t cursing that fateful night that had made your world crazy. 

That little bit of joyful freedom came crashing down around your feet once again, as though fate really had it out for you on this particular day, because with everyone else in the group gathered around, there was no reason that the wolves of the group suddenly perked up, silence falling over everyone as heads lifted, looking into the air and sniffling out. 

Even Cora had made an appearance, the second after she came downstairs to glare at you and swipe up a box of pizza, before disappearing into her room again. Now, she was standing at the top of the spiral staircase, looking down with her eyes squinted as she stared at a certain spot on the wall, and the tension was palpable and thick.

Only seconds later, the easy mood was completely and utterly shattered, the door being pulled backwards with so much force that it bounced off of its sliders and almost tore from the wall. A team stood in the doorway, aggressive stances and armed with weapons, your jaw dropped. The noise around you felt like a sudden and muffled background filler, everything seeming to move too fast while also going far too slowly, and it wasn’t until you felt hands on your upper arms, forcefully pulling you to your feet with a bruising grip as you were tugged away towards the wall. 

Allison had kitchen knives in her hands, claws and fangs were flying around as a solid wall of supernatural and hunter force formed before you, and the acrylics of Lydia’s nails were digging into your skin as she dragged you backwards. Stiles was already pressed to the wall, eyes wide as he looked around and tried to find a solution, and V was staring right at you, his arms held out as he tried to lure you into action, break in through your shock or do something, and you stumbled along, falling into his arms. 

They wrapped tightly around you, a hand weaving into your hair as he held you tight, holding your face into his shoulder as the other wrapped around your waist. He kept you tightly to him, shushing your whimpers each time you heard a painful grunt or shout of agony. He mumbled in your ear, constantly reassuring you of what was happening, until you felt like you’d choked back enough panic to look up at the scene yourself. 

It was a battlefield, chipped wood from broken furniture and splattered blood across the walls and floor, Isaac was fighting, pinning someone to the floor as another had a coil wire wrapped around his neck, red hot and glowing as it sliced into his skin and he did the best he could to fight them both. 

Allison and Kira were back to back but overwhelmed, both Scott and Derek trying to deal with the growing threat of a crown around them before them as Malia moved to tackle the man trying to decapitate your scarf-wearing friend, a small sigh of relief leaving you. You were outnumbered but not outgunned, you knew your friends could handle it but that didn’t mean without sacrifice or injury, and you feared for the way they were coping. 

You knew you had to do something to help, you just didn’t know what.

Claws were being thrown, guns fired off, and a startled scream tore from your lips as a drinking glass shattered when a bullet flew right through it, and you’d had enough of cowering in the corner. Catching sight of a clawed-up metal pipe hanging from the wall, and you pushed the arms that were wrapped around you down, ignoring the shouts of Lydia and V, Stiles grasping your arm and following after you, skimming along the walls as you made your way toward it. 

Stopping down with force, the metal snapped away from the rest with a groan, clattering across the floor, and you scooped it up, thankful that the metal was cold as you held it securely in your hands. Wrapping your fingers around it, you stepped forwards, closing in on the man who currently had what was almost a spear in his hands as he jabbed at Scott’s chest, your friend doing the best he could to avoid it. 

You weren’t that strong, you didn’t have a lot of muscle to work with or any experience in fighting but with everything you could muster within yourself you swung forward, the impact reverberating along the pipe and shaking all the way to your hands as the man collapsed in a heap, unconscious on the floor as you shook. He had a gash across his skull, your hands shaking as your eyes went wide and Scott looked at you, watching as unshed tears formed and he shook his head, Stiles placing a hand on your back to comfort you. 

Leaning down, your tanned friend felt for a pulse, and you took a raspy and gasping breath. “I didn’t want to kill him! I was just trying to help, oh m-”

“Shh, no, he’s alive! You just have a really good hit!” Scott soothed, the fight coming to a close as the numbers began to even out, and you let out a deep sigh of relief, clutching as your chest as the weight that lifted off of your shoulders made you think you may actually float away into the sky. You placed a hand onto the alpha’s shoulder, taking deep and steadying breaths, and Stiles clapped a hand on your shoulder. 

“We should have a Beacon Hills baseball team, you can be our star batter!”

Scott laughed at Stiles’ comment, glancing over your shoulder, before the joyful expression on his face dropped and he let out a dull shout as he ducked you out of the way, a final threat as he whipped your body around, stumbling over his feet and holding you close as the two of you fell out of harm’s way and onto the floor.

Another boy who had come with the attacking group had lunged at you both, and you screamed as Stiles was left defenceless, being closed in on by the man with the knife. In a blur of movement, Stiles was pulled out of the way, tackled to the ground as the man on the offensive made to slash at him, and Malia was quick to take the man by the back of the head, walking him in fast motions and slamming his head into the brick wall, his body crumpling in unconsciousness to the floor. 

The fight didn’t last much longer, and you crawled your way toward Stiles, his now human guardian angel laying beside him and clutching at his arm, blood smeared across his fingers as he grunted, and Stiles was staring at him with something between shock and awe. 

“Dude, you just saved my life.”

V let out a deep chuckle, slightly strained and suffering through his pain as he sat up, and you dropped down to your knees, eyes meeting Stiles’ and he sent you a reassuring nod before you were peeling the other boy’s fingers away from his arm, getting a look at the cut on his upper arm. 

His shirt was torn, sliced right through to his skin and while it wasn’t a deep cut, tears still sprung back to your eyes, something between pure joy that they were both alive, and fear for his well-being as he looked down at the injury he had gained. You pushed the jacket from his arms, and he lifted the sleeve of his shirt out of the way, and Lydia dropped down beside you with the first aid kit form the kitchen. 

“No! No, it’s empty! Get the stuff from the second drawer on the kitchen island!” Stiles was moving before she was, and she followed after him, the pair of them bringing enough supplies through for everyone, and your hands were shaking as you tried to open a packet of gauze. Warm hands closed over yours, slight bloodstains smearing across your skin from his. 

“It’s just a scratch.” He whispered, and you nodded, licking over your lips and taking a deep breath, unwrapping the bandaging and laying it across your lap as you picked up a disinfectant wipe or clean the nick on his skin with. 

“Just a scratch? You saved my life!” Stiles was practically exploding with glee and excitement and thankfulness, and you let out a weak chuckle, shaking your head fondly at your best friend, and he placed a friendly kiss to the top of your head before shoving your shoulder in retaliation for you laughing at him.

“Well, what are guardian angels for?” You froze at the words, your jaw gaping as you looked up at the boy you were patching up, and your best friend had much the same reaction, before he was laughing loudly and clapping him on the uninjured shoulder. Seconds later, Stiles was wandering away to help deal with the unconscious and slightly maimed team who had attacked them, Lydia following to start to patch them all up, and you kneeled beside him, admiration twinkling in your eyes as you looked at him. 

“I can’t believe you just made that joke.” You mumbled, and he let a small laugh loose for just you to hear, your fingers wrapping up and sealing the bandage carefully, before you were helping him to his feet. He raised a hand, running his fingers over your cheek delicately, and you tipped your head into his touch. “You saved my friend’s life.”

He shrugged as though it was no big thing, before lowering his hand to sit on your waist, and you gripped the shirt over his waist on your hands, holding him close to you. “It’s what I should have been doing all along. I failed him so many other times, this doesn’t really make up for anything.” You tipped your head to the side, glancing over his shoulder and he turned to look, Stiles standing behind him, scratching at the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Tell that to him. He seems pretty made up to be alive.”

Stiles stuck his tongue out at you as his doppelgänger stared at him with disbelief, unsure of quite what to say, and he looked between you and Stiles as he searched for words. “Stiles, I am so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For failing you?” You slipped your hand into V’s, his fingers immediately flexing around your own for support and you ran the pad of your thumb over his knuckles. “I should have looked after you, and done a better job. I wasn’t good, you deserved a better guardian than I am, and I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.”

“You.. what?” You chuckled, pressing your face into the back of his shoulder and Stiles was a painted picture of amusement, holding a hand out to the man that looked identical to him.

“I forgive you. You saved my life, and you look after my best friend. I forgive you.” Slipping his hand free from yours, his hand met Stiles’, and they shook hands firmly, a peace formed between the two of them, and the silence only lasted a second before V was jolting suddenly. 

With a second jerky movement, he reached up and over his own shoulder clawing at his back as he fell to his knees, and you watched as the muscles in his back shifted, his knees cracking as the hit the floor. Pulling his shirt up over his head until it was tight around his biceps, he fell forwards, a pained scream leaving his lips as you stepped up beside him. Your hand had barely pressed to his heated skin before he was twisting awkwardly, a sickening crunch sounding out and he dropped down, elbows buckling as bone pushed out of the scars on his back, and you held back the urge to vomit as he squirmed in agonising pain, Stiles spinning on his heel, light-headed at the scene before him. 

You choked back the sound you wanted to make, squeezing your eyes shut before taking a knee before him, holding his cheeks and lifting his face to look at you. His eyes were wet with tears, cheeks flushed and you offered him a shaky smile in reassurance. 

“What’s happening to me?”

“I really can’t tell you. I don’t know what’s happening, but I got you, okay?” His eyes squeezed shut, muscle and skin crawling along the bone structures, and you felt your stomach physically twist and churn at the sight. He wheezed, whining out under his breath as you held him carefully. “I got you, okay? I’m here.”

“You’re here.”

“Yeah, honey.” He winced, and you watched the gruesome sight as the freshly woven skin pricked and parted, before a gasp was leaving you, pale stems bursting through before parting in white feathers, and you let out a breathy laugh. Your eyes were wide, jaw slack as you watched beautiful and large, pure white wings appear before your eyes. “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” You were awestruck, watching as they finally grew to completion, his skin covered in a thin layer of sweat, vice hoarse from all his screaming and groaning, and he collapsed down, pulling back onto his knees just enough to slump over onto you.

“I think you just got your wings back.”

“What?” The appendages fluttered in his shock, and you felt this arms snake around your waist in exhaustion, your own arms looping around him, and you ran the edges of your fingers over the soft feathers tentatively, a happy sigh leaving him as you ran your touch over the soft wings. “That feels nice.”

“Your wings feel nice. They’re so soft.”

He chuckled, before it faded out, and he pulled back enough to look at you. The others were filtering into the room, taking in the sight before them, but neither of you paid them any attention, caught up in a bubble together as you stared at one another. 

They all discussed their opinions, Stiles offering the explanation that forgiveness was what he needed, and your heart was beating out of your chest as he flexed and extended the wings around himself, stretching them out and grunting happily, like a muscle being stretched after a long period of laying down, as though a cramp was being relieved, and he looked between them himself, lifting his fingers to brush over the edge of the feathers he could reach, fluttering them a little bit and chuckling happily under his breath.

“Can you tell me how many black feathers there are?”

You stood up, and he did the same, watching as you rounded his back to look, and he gave you a second, before turning on you and taking in your widely smiling face. “There isn’t any?”

“No black feathers?”

“All pure as snow!” You beamed, and he took your face in his hands, pulling you closer and pressing his lips to your forehead. The kiss lingered, long and sweet and your eyes closed as you leaned into it. Raising your head, you bumped the tip of your nose against his, and a throat being cleared loudly caught your attention, your cheeks heating up as you snapped away from one another.

Derek looked at you both, slightly beaten up but rapidly healing, and he offered an apologetic look, shrugging his shoulders and rubbing his hands together as everyone turned to look at him.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but it's no time to relax just yet. That was just the beginning, our threat isn’t over yet, and we need to be ready.”

[backwardsandinhighheels]

#pepperonyweek17 - day 6: AU

So I missed yesterday but this was too tempting to resist writing. It’s set in an AU where Tony and Pepper never admitted their feelings to each other and I might expand it later

“Oh no. Oh, no no no.”

Tony followed the sound of panic to the office next door. “What’s up, Pep?”

Pepper straightened, tapping furiously at her screen to minimise the email program open. “Nothing.”

“I thought we agreed there would be no secrets between us.”

“No, we agreed you wouldn’t hide potentially life-threatening situations like palladium poisoning. This is nothing like that.”

“Then what is it? Who was that email from?”

She sighed. “My sister. She’s coming to visit.”

“Is that a problem? I mean, I never had any siblings to hate, but I thought you got along with your family.”

“I do. I love my sister. Only…”

“Yeah?”

“ItoldherIhaveaboyfriendandshewantstomeethim.”

“Gesundheit. Oh, were you trying to say something?”

Pepper buried her face in her hands, ears tinged red. Tony was glad his normally unflappable PA couldn’t see how amusing this was for him. Her next words came out muffled, but audible. “I said, I’ve been telling Pen I have a boyfriend and now she wants to meet him.” Tony wiped the smile off his face as she looked up, hope in her eyes. “You’re single, right?”

“I- uh…”

“What am I saying, of course you’re not single. I schedule a different date for you every week. I’ll have to find someone else to be my fake boyfriend and I’ll probably have to pay a stranger because this job keeps me too busy to have actual friends.”

“I’ll do it.”

She looked up so fast, he was worried she would give herself whiplash. “You what?”

“I said I’ll do it,” he repeated, warming up to the idea. “Is there a reason you can’t tell her you broke up?”

“She’ll want to have a heart-to-broken-heart over ice cream and I can’t lie to her for that long. If she thinks I’m okay, she won’t push. You’ll do it? Really?”

“Yeah, why not? It’ll be fun.”

They waited together at the airport, Tony in shades that did nothing to hide who he was and Pepper more casual than he’d ever seen her in jeans and a blouse, though she still wore heels.

“Hold my hand,” he ordered, as they entered the arrivals hall.

“What?”

“You want this to look real? Hold my hand. That’s what people who are dating do, right?”

Though she eyed him suspiciously, she held the proffered hand as she studied the board. When she identified the right gate and started walking, he fell into step with her, joined hands swinging between them.

They got to the gate as a short blonde exited, suitcase by her side. When she spotted Pepper, her face brightened and she hurried over. Pepper let go of him to do that squeal-and-hug that he’d seen women do and he flexed his fingers, missing the contact.

Soon, the squealing died down and they both turned to him. “Pen, this is Tony, my boyfriend.”

He nodded in greeting as recognition filled her face. “You’re dating Tony Stark? No wonder you never gave me any real details Gin, this is huge! Mom and dad are absolutely going to flip.”

“No, they’re not, because you’re not going to tell them.”

Sensing an impending standoff, Tony grabbed Pepper’s hand again and looked at her sister. “So you’re the sister, huh?”

“Yeah, and you’re the boyfriend oh my gosh this is unreal. Hi, I’m Penny.”

“Short for Penelope?”

She grimaced. “Not exactly. Y’know how Gin’s Virginia? Like the State she was born in?”

Tony’s mind flicked through the rest of the States, came to a conclusion. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, that’s rough. You should sue your parents for child abuse. We can lend you some lawyers, can’t we, Pep?”

“No, Tony.”

“She says that a lot,” Tony confided. “I think she’s playing hard to get.”

Pepper snorted, which was not a sound he expected to hear from her. This fake boyfriend thing was all sorts of fascinating. “How’s it working?”

“I’m madly in love with you,” he assured her. “You are the best thing to ever happen to me and that includes that time I came third in a Robert Downey Jr lookalike contest.”

Penny made a strangled noise and he wondered if he’d laid it on too thick. “Oh, you two are so cute! Are you sure I can’t tell mom and dad?”

“I’m sure,” Pepper told her, not looking at her sister. Her eyes were fixed on Tony and she looked a little pale.

Too late, he remembered Pepper could tell when he was lying.

[charaxtercompares]

A character compare or an RPG class would be cool!

Aha! I’ve done both! 

Your character lookalies are:

Fawn (Tinkerbell)

Doreen Green/ Squirrel Girl (Marvel Comics)

Arya Stark (Game of Thrones)

Lucy Pevensie (Chronicles of Narnia)

Your RPG Class Is: Healer/Cleric As a child, you had an affinity for looking after injured animals. More days than anyone could count, you would trudge home covered in mud, with an odd twig tangled in your hair, and you would be cradling a bird, or a cat, and one time, to the shock and horror of your parents, a baby owlbear. This affinity carried on throughout your life and it was a surprise to no one when you became a cleric in the service of Eldath, Goddess of Peace. You hope that one day you will have a grand adventure of your own, but for now you are content with your humble but busy apothecary.

[exyzuk]

Victoria Beckham, 45, bears an uncanny resemblance to son Romeo, 17, as she shares throwback snap

Victoria Beckham, 45, bears an uncanny resemblance to son Romeo, 17, as she shares throwback snap

[ad_1]

She’s a proud mother to four children, whom she shares with husband David Beckham.

And Victoria Beckham revealed the uncanny resemblance she shares with second son Romeo, 17, as she uploaded a throwback snap of herself to Instagram on Saturday.  

The fashion designer, 45, looked adorable in the retro snap, in which she sported cute pigtails and a blue and white tracksuit. 

Lookali…

[kalemakar]

The Nick Nelson Bi Jar (insp) happy birthday lucie! (@kitconnor)

[torentialtribute]

Sergio Ramos shares hilarious lookalikes of himself

The captain of Real Madrid has revealed that he has been overwhelmed with fans sending him pictures & # 39; s

So the Spanish international decided to make a collage of some of the best

He also tweeted actor Pablo Schreiber, whom he named Jack Kinnersley for Mailonline Published: 12:33 GMT March 28, 2019 | posted hilarious lookalike photos of himself on social media

Real Madrid captain revealed that he is flooded by fans who send him pictures of people they think he looks like him.

So the Spain internationally decided to make a collage of some of the best and the similarity is creepy.

Sergio Ramos posted a collage based on photos & # 39; s people think the Real Madrid man looks like "class =" blkBorder img-share "/>

] Sergio Ramos posted a collage based on photo & # 39; s people think that the Real Madrid man looks like "class =" blkBorder img-share "/>

Sergio Ramos man looks like

<img id = "i-6ce54fd9076a479d" src = "https://ift.tt/2JLmLbi /12/11566950-6860189-The_Real_Madrid_captain_revealed_he_is_swarmed_with_fans_sending-a-28_1553776330078.jpg "height =" 517 "width =" 634 "alt =" The Real Madrid captain has revealed that he is being overwhelmed by fans of his look & #ikes; send "

The Real Madrid captain has revealed that he is flooded with fans who send him pictures of lookalikes" fans send him pictures of lookali kes

The photo & # 39; s also marked

<img id = "i-d1ce80806738e4af" src = "https://ift.tt/2NyDsEw /1s/2019/03/28/12/11566952-6860189-The_photos_also_highlighted_Ramos_various_haircuts_during_his_15-a-27_1553776321104.jpg "height =" 603 "width =" 634 "alt =" The photo & # 39; s also emphasized the different turns of Ram. his 15 years as a professional "class =" blkBorder img-share "

He also tweeted actor Pablo Schreiber that he got a lot

The photo & # 39 ; s also emphasized the different hair cuts of Ramos during his 15 years as a professional people say he resembles Schreiber.

Ramos said: & # 39; How are you? I'm Sergio Ramos, a Spanish professional soccer player. & # 39;

& # 39; I don't know if you get it much, but I receive many messages every day telling me that we are alike. What do you think? Nice to meet you, brother! & # 39;

Schreiber responded with the words: & # 39; Nice to meet you, captain. I know exactly who you are.

& # 39; Since I started pretending to be a goblin, everyone thinks it's you. If you are ever in Los Angeles, the drinks are on me. & # 39;

Ramos then placed the selection of photos that people sent him to see if people agreed.

The photos also emphasized the different cuts of Ramos during his 15 years as a professional.

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[physics-me]

Keira Knightley and Bradley Cooper