I enjoyed making this

Elemental - Chapter 1

Fandom: Haikyuu!! 

Pairing: Iwaizumi x Oikawa

A/N: multichap iwaoi in an avatar- last aribender setting! Lemme know what you guys think! I haven’t written in what seems like forever, so go easy on me please? And thank you so much for sticking around even though I’m so inactive, I love you all so much <3 

Iwaizumi’s every day regime is quite simple.

He wakes up at dawn, just in time to see the sunrise, which is followed by a quick work out in the forest, where he reshapes the land with his bending. After that, he goes to the riverbank nearby to bathe and clean up and once he’s done, he sets off for the village and towards the small academy where he teaches metal bending to the youngsters. He’s a simple man, and honestly, he has no problems with that.

Of course, life has a strange way of messing pretty much everything up.

Keep reading

Berserk S2E1-9: *learns from past mistakes, improves visuals, fixes Guts’s model, steadies the camera work, imperfectly yet slightly improves the animation, works on better sound design, and stays closer to the manga*

Y’all: “………………………………………………..”

Berserk S2E10: *is the only objectively bad episode in the series due to rushed deadlines as episodes are still produced during its cour*

Y’all: “This entire series was a mistake. Liden Films hasn’t learned a thing, and everyone should be fired.”


Uuuuugggghhh…

  • Ravenclaw (right after they've graduated hogwarts): You know now, as far as society is concerned, we're adults.
  • Hufflepuff: Yes! Isn't it exciting?
  • Ravenclaw: Adults who have to make their own decisions about their lives.
  • Hufflepuff: It's so freeing, isn't it?
  • Ravenclaw: I have no idea what I'm doing and I want to go back to school.
  • Hufflepuff: ...
  • Ravenclaw: I don't want to do classes or anything, I just want someone to cook for me and tell me when meals are so I don't forget and basically be able to ignore life's responsibilities.

anonymous asked:

If one hypothetically wanted to read your Eldritch Abomination Garfield fic, how would one go about finding it as directly searching for 'garfield' hypothetically does not include the fic?

“They bought it?” Lyman asked as Jon hung up the phone.

“I got the contract,” Jon confirmed, dazed. “I’m — I’m syndicated.”

“You did it, man!” Lyman said, clapping him on the back. Odie barked.

“They’re already thinking about merchandising deals,” Jon continued, staring into space.

“I told you things were going to turn around for you,” Lyman said with a nod. Odie continued barking, making it clear that he was not just trying to be supportive. “Hey, look, I’ve gotta take the dog for a walk. If the alarm goes off while I’m gone, can you take dinner out of the oven?”

“Yeah,” Jon said, with no real conception of what he was agreeing to. He still had not yet finished processing that phone call, the idea that he was going to be paid, consistently, that he was a working cartoonist, that his comics would be in papers. Merchandising deals. Merchandising.

It was not until he heard the door that Jon realized he was alone in the apartment.

Just him, and Garfield.

From the corner, it growled.

Jon’s heart spasmed; he hadn’t realized it was in the same room. “H—hey,” he said. It would have been a dumb thing to say if it was a normal cat. It was a dumber thing to say under the circumstances. Its eyes glowed red in the shadows. “How are you?” he asked, then winced as the cat growled again. “Heard the good news?” he asked weakly.

MY END OF THE CONTRACT HAS BEEN FULFILLED

It rumbled through his brain like an earthquake, words without words. He covered his ears even though it wouldn’t help. “Yeah, thanks for—”

I WILL FEED

Jon’s heart spasmed again, overwhelmed with the sense of a hunger not his own. “Right, about that—”

YOU WILL FEED ME it said, words written in blood, thick and hot.

“—yes, I got that, I’m just not really sure what I’m supposed to—”

MEAT and the word throbbed, tore.

“Would chicken be okay?”

UNACCEPTABLE it said in broken bone and jellied marrow.

“I don’t want to stereotype you by assuming you want to eat my roommate—”

YES GIVE ME HIS HEART it said, pulsing, torn flesh.

“—but you can’t eat Lyman.”

I͇̤͜ ̭̩W̨͕̪̠͙I̧̫͍͕̤̥̥̥L̜̜̭͔̪͢L̡͉͍͍͓̣ ͇F̤̜E̤̱̼̩͙̺͢E̥̳̫D̯͚̰ͅ

The glowing eyes moved from the shadows, grew larger, taller. Hellfire, if fire could cast dark instead of light, orange and red, fire and blood. The indistinct shape that might have been a cat became an indistinct shape that might have been a man, large, always large. Jon shrank back as it stretched to fill the room, tried not to look directly at it. Hot breath and sharp teeth against his skin, even though it couldn’t have been, because he was still wearing his jacket.

There was a chiming sound.

WHAT WAS THAT

“Uh.” Jon swallowed, hard. “Dinner?”

FOOD

“Yes,” Jon said, “but I don’t know if you can eat people food…”

Garfield sat in the middle of the floor, wide as it was tall. Its gaze was baleful.

“Right. You can eat whatever you want.” Slowly Jon inched around the cat to head toward the kitchen. “I don’t really know what it is, though. It might be… vegan.”

Garfield hissed, the sound of pain, and Jon fled toward the oven.

I SMELL MEAT

Jon stopped himself from telling the cat get off the counter. “I think it’s a casserole,” he said, removing the dish to set it on the stove. He gingerly removed the lid, his hands safely wrapped in oven mitts. “Oh. It’s lasagna.”

GIVE IT TO ME

“It has to cool,” Jon said. Garfield hissed again, and the sound turned Jon’s blood to fiberglass. He backed away, and the cat leapt bodily and entirely into the baked pasta. It did not seem bothered by the fact that the pasta sauce was still bubbling, and Jon tried not to look at the void of its mouth. A black hole rimmed with fangs, an absence of all light, drawing in all that it touched to disappear within.

WHAT IS THIS it asked, and a hellfire paw batted at a stretchy piece of mozzarella.

“… cheese?”

The cat-shaped thing nodded, still sitting in the dish of lasagna.

WE DO NOT HAVE THIS

“You don’t have cheese in hell?”

It nodded again.

“I guess that’s what makes it hell.” If Garfield appreciated this observation, it did not show it. It cracked open its maw again, more lasagna disappearing, and Jon looked away. “That lasagna was supposed to feed us for a week,” he sighed. “How much longer do I need to do this?” he asked.

UNTIL YOU ARE SATISFIED

“Until I’m satisfied?”

YOU MUST FEED ME TO SATISFY YOUR HUNGER

Realization dawned. “Wait, but — I thought this was a one-time thing.”

IT WAS NOT

“If you leave, I get fired?”

PERHAPS

“So I might still be able to make it on my own.”

DO YOU BELIEVE YOUR SKILL IS ENOUGH TO BRING YOU ALL THAT YOU DESIRE

Jon thought of the portfolio sitting in his room, and sagged. “… no.”

It grew, limbs stretching, claws turning to fingers and then claws again. It sat on the counter like a solid mirage, licking red from its hands.

YOU WILL HAVE RICHES BEYOND YOUR WILDEST DREAMS it said in truffle oil and fur and gold. SO LONG AS I AM FED YOU WILL NEVER KNOW HUNGER

Syndication and merchandising deals and maybe someday a cartoon on television. His signature in every newspaper in every house in the country. In the world, even. He raked his fingers through his curls and tried not to look at its claws.

“I guess I’m stuck with you, then,” Jon said.

It didn’t slide off the counter the way a man would, shifted off like drifting smoke or licking flames, stood and was no shorter. Tall and broad and solid, a weight to its presence as it moved closer. Jon shrank back again as it loomed, and this show of submission seemed to please it. Hot breath and sharp teeth against his skin again, and he shivered.

YES YOU ARE



8

“Rapunzel, from the moment I first met you and you knocked me out with that frying pan, I knew it was love. You’re my light, you’re my best friend and I want to be your partner in all things […] I love you Rapunzel, and I wanna spend the rest of our lives here together.”