*dote

This scene in slow motion is powerful stuff though. Like just a second after seeing the falling debris Moira’s first reaction is to look at Claire in  horrified shock.

Then, her expression changes to one of still shock but almost angry shock as if she’s thinking ‘this fucking island is going to kill Claire.’

Then, her expression changes again into determination as she calls out Claire’s name. By this point she knows it’s too late, and she can’t explain in time, and it’s all down to saving her best friend – the one who she admires so damn much and cares about even more than her own life.

–So she pushes Claire next, hard. I mean, really, hard, with determined strength. It’s strong enough to make Claire fall out of the way to safety. This is Claire we’re talking about, too. The same strong Claire that flipped a Gabe, a normal guy bigger than her, upside down when he tried to attack her. Moira is twice smaller than Claire and yet still managed to push Claire hard enough.

When Claire finally comes to realization, she sees Moira helpless trapped under heavy debris and rubble, and that’s a puddle of Moira’s freaking blood, too, AND Moira still tells Claire that ‘it’s OK, don’t look back…”  

The bottom line? This scene kills me each and every time and no im not crying what are you talking about i just love these two OK.

grampy was here

No matter what Certain Dutch (actually, he’s Austrian and Jewish in this universe, please and thank you) Half-Crazed Doctors and Occasional Vampire Hunters might say, Vlad Dracula had nothing Evil and Nefarious in mind when he proposed to move himself and his favorite grandson over to England. 

I’m your only grandson, Bunic!

And that’s why you’re my favorite, Iacov.  Now, hush.

The truth was that he was rather worried for his boy, since he was all he had left now that Adrian and Arkady - his dhampir sons - were currently wandering all over the world, off on their own adventures.  The fact that Iacov was really Ingeras reborn - his beloved son from his human lifetime - well, it was understandable that Vlad was rather protective of him, considering that Ingeras had lived a human lifespan, with all its attendant joys and miseries. 

Iacov had spent quite some time as a soldier for the past few centuries or so.  The ones that his doting grandfather could recall in recent memory was the revolution by those Colonists in the New World and then the wars waged by that little Corsican upstart.  Iacov had been feared and admired by his comrades.  The Winter Soldier had become a legend all of his own. 

But Iacov was now quite tired of war and strife and spoke longingly of building new lives for their own. 

We may not be on the right side of the grave, Bunic, but I refuse to continue living as a monster.  I wish us to live - surely, God would still have mercy for us both?

Ah, whether he was Ingeras or Iacov, the boy was stubborn to the core.  He refused to lose hope.

So, a loving grandfather will not stand by and let his favorite grandson suffer.  So it was that he had asked the solicitors at SHIELD to handle his affairs.  And so it was that Prince Vlad of the House of Draculesti welcomed the solicitors named Natasha Alianova Romanoff and Steven Grant Rogers to his house.  

He’d worried that they would scoff at warnings of ancient folklore and superstition and blunder into danger as “enlightened English” but he was amused to find out their true ancestry.  They were, in fact, of bloodlines older and far more ancient than his own!  And he had been suitably amused when Iacov had returned home with a tale of how he’d kept young Mr. Rogers safe from the fangs of that harpy Dolingen. 

It was then that he’d noted the flickers of new interest in his grandson’s blue eyes. 

He would have chalked it up to an old man’s imagination, but the interest was most definitely there when Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Rogers were invited to sup with them.  His grandson actually smiled and it was clear that those smiles were directed at the fair young Russian-Irish grandson of Baba Yaga.  

Who was, in fact, returning that attraction.

This enterprise to England might prove to be a successful venture indeed…

- tbc -

A continuation of this STORY.

Note:  I originally thought I might mimic the journal-style writing of Bram Stoker.  My Muses - especially Grampy - have other ideas!

Bunic is what “grandfather”/”grandpa” would be in Romanian.  At least, according to Google.  If anyone out there knows better, please let me know.  Much appreciated. 

despite my better judgement im gonna do ranked dotes tonight

I got myself into 3.6k MMR 2 years ago and it’s time I climb out of this shithole.

Okay story time. I just received an academic award I have been working hard to get for years. My mother, being the doting creature she is, posted a picture of my holding up the award in a very nice dress and lipstick (I’m female presenting) Her friends and family comment, but I noticed that every time something great happens to me on facebook, people make a comment about my appearence. I make a lot of posts about awards or good grades on my Facebook account, but, after counting the comments, more people have told me I look beautiful than congratulate me for winning awards or getting As. If you notice, green commented twice. Its the same person. He felt the need to go back and tell me I’m pretty. This wouldnt happen if I presented male. It wouldn’t! I find it so stupid, that it’s hard for people to say “Congrats!” And just mean that. I don’t need to be told I’m pretty every time I get a good grade. I don’t neednto be pretty to get an good grade. The fact that people gave to constantly remind me that I have to be pretty AND smart bugs me.

things i need:
  • a group of young, unaffiliated supers who met and became friends and are basically the breakfast club in terms of how wildly different all they are
  • a friendship that is essentially the “hoe don’t do it” “DOES THE THE THING” “oh my god” meme personified
  • siblings that would burn down the world for one another but are, for whatever reason, currently on opposite sides 
  • someone with the ability to communicate with animals so they can be the most precious thing and all my characters can dote upon them and their animal army
  • petty, passive aggressive rivalries between uppity knight-affiliates, because life in a snazzy suit requires wit and decorum but sometimes that one guy just grinds your gears so much

MORE TBA

On KenKasu

To those who are curious why I ship KenKasu so hard in spite of starting with the anime (I suppose this goes for those who have only seen the IG anime too)–

I will say the anime slightly flanderized some of the characters. Kasuga’s a lot clumsier, Masamune’s a bit too overpowered, Yukimura’s a tad too naive, Oichi’s not as proactive, Nouhime’s much crueler, etc. It seems in Kenshin’s case he’s bit less doting on Kasuga there- but even IN the anime–

She’s supposed to be HIS bodyguard right?

HE took a bullet for HER.

Yeah he’s a nice fellow, but he’s not about to take a bullet for just anyone- he recognizes as a leader, he needs to survive for his people’s sake. Really, Echigo’s a backwater province- its rich rice fields are really all it’s got going for it. No major temples, no big governmental centers or libraries (at least until, historically, his elder sister establishes one, and even then it’s a small one for the Uesugi and Nagao clans), no major trading ports; Kenshin’s what’s keeping the place relevant AND from descending into chaos. Essentially, he chose Kasuga over his people, who he devotes his life to protect and care for. He loves her that much.

That’s just part of why I ship them, and in spite of his aloofness, why I think he genuinely loves her.

|| Headcanon: Hosokawa Ed.

Kasen’s personality is based off of Hosokawa Tadaoki basically. Calm and cultured in leisure, but brutal and cold-blooded in battle. One should not underestimate him in battle, he’s ruthless and might want your head on a platter, preferrably chrysanthemum scented. And it’s probably not a good idea to rile him up during sparring because he can take that too seriously.

During his time with the Hosokawa clan, Sayo Samonji also happens to be in their possession as well. (Score he has another otouto to dote on.)

I believe that his interest in the arts accumulated the most, especially with Gracia’s interest in Christianity. The concept of this religion was so new to him that he must find more about it so he learned about Christ with her. They shared a close bond, but when her time has come, he was very saddened because the time that he spent with her was very short. Back then, women, even of the nobility, weren’t mentioned as much. And after she died, she never really left much about herself. He only has memories of her to hold on to and he felt that she deserved a place in history.

I see Kasen as the type of person who not only writes a lot about his thoughts, but about the people around him. He loves to provide stories in a form of poems, even if people can’t decipher his archaic diction. 

anonymous asked:

Matsukawa meets Moniwa: Mattsun decides to be an ass and tell everyone that Moniwa is his younger brother and always teases him about it to make Moniwa mad. After a while, Moniwa just goes along with it, because Mattsun buys him snacks and sometimes carries him around on his shoulders. Mattsun always wanted a younger sibling, so he dotes on Moniwa whenever he can even though they are the same age. AAH! It sounds really cute in my head!

?????? That’s adorable

Oh my god, how long do people believe he’s Mattsun’s little brother??

(Like, if your little brother is kissing your neck while you’re carrying him, that’s a little suspicious lmao. Because I refuse to believe that doesn’t happen.)

I keep seeing all this lovely domestic fluff about Max and Furiosa adopting the Five Wives and becoming like the mom and dad of these five young women

which is lovely and fantastic and all

but imagine instead the Five Wives informally adopting Max and becoming his doting little mothers while Furiosa is just like “ok you can keep him but he’s your responsibility and I’m not lifting a finger to help”

  • imagine Capable coaxing him into eating regularly and reminding him that he doesn’t have to steal or sneak food anymore 
  • imagine Toast reprimanding him whenever he mumbles incoherently or grunts one-word answers 
  • imagine Dag patching up every little cut and bruise he comes home with, despite his protests that he is perfectly fine and no he does not need 5-10 different herbal remedies from her garden 
  • imagine Cheedo volunteering to tell him stories before bed whether he wants her to or not
  • imagine Angharad constantly fidgeting with his clothes/fixing his hair/grooming him
  • imagine all five of them physically wrestling him into a bathtub at least once a week 

But most of all imagine Furiosa pretending to be indifferent to all this while inside she melts just a little whenever she walks in and finds Max sitting at the dinner table with them (without having to be coerced or dragged in by Capable), or speaking in clear full sentences while verbally sparring with Toast, or obediently applying a salve to some tiny scratch even without Dag standing over him, or not bothering to fake being asleep during Cheedo’s story time anymore, or automatically tilting his head so that Angharad can check to make sure she cut his hair evenly, or stops fighting bath time as soon as they promise to use regular-smelling soap and not that ‘fruity stuff’ again.

[Begin Again]

Series: Fairy Tail.
Main pairing: Gruvia.
Genre: Romance, Mature.
Setting: AU: Martial Artist / Roommates. 
Rating: M - for eventual mature situations/smut.
Type: Multi-Chapter.
Read others: here.
Read on FF.net: here.

Synopsis: In the midst of losing everything, Juvia is urged by her dying father to seek refuge in the home of a family friend. Imagine her surprise when, instead of the ever wise and doting Silver, Juvia finds his estranged (and impossibly handsome) son asleep on the dojo floor.

Chapter 1 [Prologue]: Beginning. 

The burden of loss was something Juvia Lockser wouldn’t wish on her own worst enemy. It clung to her soul and taunted her mind. Even though it had been weeks since the accident, the world had never looked bleaker. From then on it had been day after day of torment. First her family, then her house – then her sanity. Happiness escaped Juvia like water dripping between her fingers. She endeavoured to hold onto it, to keep her mind at peace, but it always slipped away. She was trapped in a sickening void, black and hollow and endless. 

If nothing else, the sunshine was a prospect for hope. Hope that the future would be better. Hope that, when she pulled this door open, her life would change forever.

Little did she know, that’s exactly what would happen.

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