beltsquid:

At first I was disappointed that the animations were slightly desynched and then I realized that it looks like Flynn is doing that dickish “ha ha you’re too slow” thing and it made me laugh.

foolishcaptainkia:

I Hope That You’re Dreaming Of Me… by ~FoolishCaptainKia

Oh lookie here I coloured it just for yo guys~

(via iures)

(Source: fuckyeahuncharted)

Seriously…

(Source: masyafbakesale)

(via iures)

classical-beauty:

Lady Godiva by Collier

(via n-drake)

agent19:

  She turned to face him on her stool, resting her chin on one palm, her eyes sweeping over him appreciatively. “Not as often as I’d like, but I’m sure I could be convinced to frequent it more,” she said with a smirk of her own. Bobbi hadn’t been out to a bar since the night of her birthday, and she hoped that she’d be able to remember significantly more of this night than that one.

  She flagged down the bartender. “What’s your poison, Flynn? First round’s on me.”

 ”Whatever you’re having, darling, I’m certain I’ll like it too.” He spun on his stool with a wry grin and slid an arm around her hip on the seat.   She was too pretty to be a government employee, in his opinion. He struck her as a sort of character from his lifestyle, which intrigued him more than he’d let on.  He leaned back, letting his fingers trace along the small of her back as he flashed her a cheeky wink.

“I’ll cover the next round then, shall I?”

agent19:

  In the end, Bobbi and Harry decided to drive to the bar separately. In spite of Harry’s less-than-legal occupation, she found herself attracted to him. Maybe it was the accent, or maybe the fact that he just didn’t seem to care that she worked for the government, but everything about the man intrigued her.

  The bar Bobbi had chosen for their rendezvous was tucked away in a hidden corner of New York City. While not necessarily a dive, it sure as hell wasn’t one of the swank places closer to the heart of the city. She slid onto a stool that gave her a good view of the rest of the bar and the door, ordered herself a rum and coke, and waited for Harry to show up.

 Sliding into the bar felt like husking off a layer of his skin.  The ancient and new sensation of doing something he had done time after time only in his newer life was like taking a drink from a childhood river.  The scent of smoke lingering and the hum of conversation took him back.

The lone, startlingly attractive blonde sidled up to the bar was a sure sign she was waiting for him.  He walked quietly, too quiet for the rising din to make his footsteps known, and the dark night outside cloaked his entrance.  His palm flattened against the bar as he leaned back against it, with an easy smirk.

“Come here often?”