a brief glimpse into the life of me

it’s time. for meta. about how Viktor Nikiforov is the Most Transparent™ because I need to establish this.

Y’all have accepted that he’s got an excellent control over his temper. You’ve also accepted Viktor’s pretty good at acting. I agree with both of those things, at least, to an extent. 

In terms of his temper yeah I totally agree. He doesn’t lash out (generally), and his actions, if there are any, are highly restrained in proportion to his anger. That being said, it’s super apparent when Viktor’s annoyed. Like here! Episode four!

Look at him he’s blatantly annoyed. He’s got the fucking shadows over his eyes and everything.

But even after Yuuri turns around, look at his face. This isn’t like a true Cheery Viktor™ face. This is like Viktor pretending to be his normal self, but it’s clearly not working like. At all. And we saw him make the transition to this face. Came with a ding noise and everything. We know this isn’t accurate at all anyway. And I think Yuuri knows too considering his reaction. 

Is that fear or is that fear. (Hint: it’s fear). Like, of course part of this is definitely attributed to Yuuri’s anxiety, of this I have no doubts. But I think if Viktor wasn’t so transparently annoyed in the way he made his entrance, to his not quite genuine face, to his tone of voice, it probably wouldn’t look like this. 

in episode 5 you’ve got more annoyed Viktor, but in this episode he makes no attempt at hiding it, I mean look.


To quote dub Viktor in episode 2: “that’s not a happy face.”

I could get more from that pre-SP hug in particular but you really get my point here. He’s clearly not happy. Very transparent. 

I’m not going to address episode 10 because everyone and their mother has already addressed episode 10. We all know Viktor was Fucking Pissed (insert that one Kirby picture but like. with Viktor).  

Viktor is very transparent in his anger, but it doesn’t stop there. Because Viktor wears his entire heart on his sleeve, and I think he’s aware of this. That’s why, especially for the public, he acts. And here’s where it gets tricky. Because I think Viktor’s a good actor, but only for a specific type of audience: the general public. 

We know that before Yuuri Viktor was depressed, given how he talks about his past and what little we’ve seen from it. He’s described skating as a shackle around his neck, and his life before Yuuri was devoid of “life and love” But there’s visual indicators of this too. Like these brief glimpse of the old Viktor in episode 11.

He’s so sad and miserable I am going to cry Vitya let me hug you. But there’s another reason I showed this. It’s to compare this, with Viktor by himself, to Viktor in front of a crowd.

He’s won the GPF for the fifth time in a row. The crowd is going wild, but look at his face. His smile. We know Viktor. We know what a truly happy Viktor looks like. He’s got a heart shaped smile and his whole body radiates joy, and this isn’t him. That smile isn’t even a real smile. Viktor’s just doing it because it’s expected, and the crowd eats it up, like they eat up the rest of his public persona. But it’s fake. We know he’s not happy and we even know what happy Viktor looks like. It’s so obvious.

“but if it’s so fake, why do they buy it?” Because they don’t know him. And we didn’t either when all of us first watched this episode, so we all bought it. Maybe we, and maybe some of his fans, think something is off, but no one knows him well enough to prove anything. It’s all speculation. All they have (and all we had) is just what Viktor wanted to show us. That’s why it works. He’s a great actor to the public and the like, because the public is never shown anything he doesn’t want them to see. 

But this wouldn’t work on anyone who knows him. Like Yakov. This is where it gets into hc territory, I suppose but I imagine Yakov would notice. He’s been Viktor’s coach for so long, and if you look at the brief glances of younger Viktor to this Viktor, they’re very different. Yakov honestly feels like Viktor’s dad at this point, so he would notice. Maybe he’s even tried to bring it up, but Viktor acts in front of everyone, not just a crowd. “I’m fine, Yakov.” You’re not, Yakov thinks, but he can’t successfully bring it up with Viktor. 

Less HC territory is Yurio, who clearly noticed something was wrong, but didn’t put it together properly. Yurio concludes Viktor’s lost his inspiration and he’s entered a slump. Maybe that’s true, but that’s not all of it. But he still knows something is wrong.

I can’t argue for anyone else who was probably a part of Viktor’s life at this point, as we have basically nothing to base it off of. With Georgi or Mila or Chris we don’t actually know if they were even close, or how close, before Yuuri. There’s nothing to base it off of. 

We actually see Yuuri make a transition from one side to the other. Yuuri was a fan who didn’t know Viktor, and slowly gets to know him, seeing beyond the man he put on a pedestal. It’s pretty neat.

tl;dr: Viktor is hella transparent. I agree he’s got good control over his temper, and that he acts, but he’s still transparent as fuck.

Nemesis Mine

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5. Simon.

It’s getting late, and I’m tired and desperate to go home. Baz has been acting quiet and sullen all day, and I want to check on him and make sure everything’s okay. I’ve been flying around all afternoon saving kids from drowning in lakes and rescuing hikers trapped in the forest and I even flew someone’s cat down from a tree. Sometimes being a superhero is a lot less exciting than people might think.

I’m almost back to the Watford campus when I see a group of people outside a bar that I immediately get a bad feeling about. I fly lower and land on the roof. There’s a group of tough-looking men and women who have someone cornered by the back door. My tail starts swishing behind me and I’m about to leap into the fray when I hear shouts and the sound of pounding feet.

A girl has broken out of the group and is running for her life, blonde hair swinging behind her. She’s clutching something that I realise must be pepper spray. She’s wearing heels and a dress that I suddenly recognise – it’s Agatha.

One of the men has started chasing her. I leap down from the building but before I even make it to the ground, a blurry shape rushes past me and seems to collide with him. There’s a brief scuffle and then the guy is lying on the ground, unconscious.

I catch a glimpse of him before he goes after the rest of the group. Basilton Pitch. Of course, this kind of thing is usually his job. I leave him to it and fly after Agatha.

‘Agatha –’ Shit. I almost forgot that she doesn’t know it’s me. And if Basilton heard me call her by name, he might be able to figure out who I am. I can’t let him have the upper hand.

I don’t know whether or not she heard me, but she only runs faster, which finally makes her trip over her heels and fall on her face (I’m surprised she ran so fast in those things). I land next to her.

‘It’s just me,’ I say, bending to help her up.

She looks relieved. ‘Snow. Great. Thank you.’ She throws a panicked glance over her shoulder, still breathing hard.

We both get a shock when Basilton suddenly appears in front of us.

‘Are you hurt?’ he says to her, his voice icy cold.

‘I’ve got it under control,’ I butt in.

‘I wasn’t talking to you, Snow,’ he growls.

‘I’m fine,’ Agatha says. ‘Just shaken.’

He nods curtly and starts to walk away.

‘Hey,’ I call, ‘where are you going?’

‘She says she’s fine,’ he says without turning around.

‘Your job isn’t done! Aren’t you going to make sure she actually gets home safely?’

He stops walking and turns around with a sigh. ‘Why would she need me when she has the great heroic Snow?’

‘But it’s your job,’ I say stubbornly. Why is he acting like such a villain? He usually at least pretends to care about anyone he rescues.

‘Why are you even here, then?’

‘I was just in the area.’ Fuck, now he’ll know I live nearby. ‘There was an incident. With a cat. Near here.’

‘Right,’ he says, the scorn heavy in his voice. ‘A cat. So that’s what the mighty and revered superhero does with his time.’

My tail is twitching behind me. It does that when I’m agitated. Of course Basilton notices.

‘Are you going to strangle me with that tail of yours?’ he taunts. ‘Or are you going to fly up and drop me off a building, like your father did to my –’

I slam into him (as if I’m responsible for my father’s actions) and try to punch him in the jaw (it was an accident, why can’t he accept that, of course Davy didn’t mean to) and he ducks out of the way (I’m so tired of him taking everything out on me and it’s not like he hasn’t killed people too). We’re circling each other in the middle of a deserted alleyway.

‘Go on,’ he says. ‘Don’t you have better things to do than fight me?’

I’m seeing red, and I want to tell him that he’s a villain and that makes it my job to fight him, but I remember Agatha watching us and tell myself to calm down. Agatha’s my friend. I don’t want her to see this, even if she doesn’t know that it’s me.

‘Fine,’ I spit. ‘I’ll make sure she’s safe, since you don’t seem to care.’

He shakes his head. ‘This isn’t over.’

‘It’s never over, is it, nemesis mine.’ (It pisses him off when I call him that, which is the only reason why I do it.) I turn around and walk back to Agatha, who’s been watching us with barely concealed curiosity. And possibly some contempt.

‘I can get home by myself,’ she says to me.

‘I know. I’m going the same way.’

‘How do you know where I’m going?’

I shrug. ‘Just a gut feeling.’


I shed my disguise on the roof of the building as usual and make my way down to room 61. At least I escaped without any injuries this time, so Baz won’t ask any questions.

I try to get back into my regular uni student Simon headspace before going into the room. I remember last night, when I fell asleep on Baz’s bed and he tucked me in and we swapped beds for the night. I remember sitting right up close to him as we watched the movies. I can’t remember what either movie was about, I was too busy noticing how it felt to have him so close to me. Too busy imagining all the different ways he might react if I leaned over and kissed his cheek, or if I reached over and started playing with his hair, or if I laced our fingers together.

I didn’t do any of those things, obviously. But I want to. I want to do more than that. Today though, in all the classes we shared and in the afternoon, he was withdrawn. He barely spoke to me unless I spoke to him first. I wonder if he regrets sleeping in my bed last night. If he thinks we crossed a line that he didn’t want us to cross.

I take a deep breath before turning my key in the lock and shoving open the door. Baz is on his bed fiddling with his phone. He doesn’t look up when I come in.

‘Where were you?’ he asks.

‘I – um – with Agatha,’ I blurt. (It’s technically true.)

His face remains expressionless. ‘I see,’ he says.

I sit on the edge of my bed, facing him.

‘Is everything okay?’ I ask.

He looks up and raises an eyebrow. ‘Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?’

‘It’s just…’ I frown. ‘You’re being distant.’

‘Am I?’

‘If it’s about yesterday…’


I roll my eyes. ‘Come on, Baz. You know. Me sleeping in your bed.’ I’m probably blushing. Fuck. He must know how I feel.

‘It wasn’t a big deal, Simon,’ he says.


‘You said you were fine with it,’ he says, his eyes flicking up to meet mine.

‘I – I was,’ I stammer. ‘I am.’

‘What’s the problem, then?’ He narrows his eyes at me. ‘Is this because you were with Agatha? Because it’s not like we –’

Oh. Oh. Agatha. My ex.

‘No,’ I blurt out, cutting him off. ‘I mean, I wasn’t with Agatha, not like… you know. We’re just friends. I mean, it’s been months, and we’re really close, but we’re definitely – we’re just friends.’

He waits for me to stop rambling. ‘Sure, Simon,’ he says. ‘And you’re okay with that?’

‘Yeah, I’m – yeah, totally,’ I say. I rub my hand over my eyes. ‘I mean, I’m not interested in Agatha anymore, if that’s what you’re asking.’ I hesitate, biting my lip. ‘I’m actually – I might be interested in someone else.’

I peek up at him and – he’s smiling, this tiny, private smile like he’s trying not to let me see it, but I do see it, and I want to walk over there and kiss it off his lips. Instead, I blush madly, grab my pyjamas and rush out the door.

“life is continuing, life is continuing..and what’s important to me may not be totally unimportant to you, though everything eventually passes except this very, this very very moment, and the next second we are in another moment. and something else happens, and everything else is gone, is past, but some of the memories, no, they never really go away. nothing really goes away. it’s always here.” - as i was moving ahead, occasionally i saw brief glimpses of beauty.

A centering of Self
-a seeing-
brief glimpses of
a young, twenty-year self,

my view of Then
finessed by the
Spectacle-of-Life –

it was all so New!
and Now?
Forty years Later …

I am full
of a howling,
my path to
this very Moment

Revealed by the same
connection of (to?) who I was
to a love I feel
emerging before my eyes

it’s as Grecian as
Isis, this grip
on the grasp of life
like wisdom of vision

Time tells me
I am [still] ‘Here’
healing the Song of Self
inside (a (canopy) of) Love

who could say?
and how many thoughts
I’d given – sent to
to the ether of this very Moment

then, in recognition
of my self, of
embracing Who I AM? Now.
So as the light slants Autumn

sending shadows long
like me, I’ve become
a perfect circle surrounding
the days and nights ahead

coming to know
the same young boy
is now the man he IS
this, in a resolution of Time.

- © Thespian Drummer / Perfect Circle

anonymous asked:

I want a child ~ Suga

“I want a child,” Yoongi murmurs. Yoongi shrugs, at a loss for words himself. He keeps staring up at the ceiling, just like he did every time after going to bed, when the moon was high in the sky and the starts were shining bright. After a full moment of silence, his voice had gotten deeper; brooding.

You hum silently as you let your fingers graze gently on Yoongi’s naked chest. It’s soft under your fingertips, sweet and it itches your mouth with a sudden urge to kiss it (bite it, maybe). You can feel his own fingers caressing your thigh, and it’s a simple move, not sexual and it’s comforting. Soothing.

“Not now, I mean, someday.” he continues and when you look up to steal a glimpse at his face, Yoongi’s eyes are hooded and mostly hidden under a too long fringe, but they are bright and full of life. A car is honking outside the open windows, and you frown at how disrespectful it feels for the little bubble both Yoongi and you are in is too comfortable to let anyone try to disturb.

“With me?” you asked so softly that you wondered if he had heard you. He probably did because then, he darts his eyes away to your face and the soothing circles on your waist came to a halt for a brief moment before they start again.

Of course it was with you because you had become a thing that was more relevant to Yoongi’s life than anything else. He wished for you when he was younger, hands tucked over his heart with his eyes closed. He wished for your smiles, the way your head tipped back when you laughed, your warm breath brushing over his skin. He wished for your wisdom and your adventures. He wished for your kisses and for your touch. 

When he got all of those things in life, he knew he wouldn’t have to wish for much more, but it didn’t hurt to close his eyes and wish for the apartment you two had kept your eyes on for months. It didn’t hurt to close his eyes and wish for happiness with you, a forever with you in his arms. It didn’t hurt to close his eyes and count to ten, to think of all the things in his life that he did have. 

And maybe he was selfish for wishing for one more thing. One last thing.

As he curls his fingers more tightly around yours, he wishes for that one more thing, and he wishes it out loud. “If you still want me by then.“ 

You slowly let your lips curl into a smile and take in the scents of Yoongi’s fading cologne. You breathe out with the intake of air you steal from his chest and when you nodded, you can feel the breath leaving his lungs crashing into your face; and it almost feels as if Yoongi was holding his breath, afraid of the answer you might have responded.

“I will,” you promise softly, and you close your eyes against the memories that you wish will happen. With Yoongi. Always with Yoongi. “I always will.”

Originally posted by tahyns

I really didn’t know what to make of it so that’s why I took so long.. I apologize very deeply! 

- Nageoire 

Confession #2,085

my medication is what makes my life worth living. my number one reason to live is usually my next dose. I feel like a drug addict, except instead of chasing a high I’m chasing neutrality. I’m not addicted to a high, I’m addicted to a lack of pain, to a feeling of normalcy. I’m addicted to the reduction of symptoms and increased functioning. my medication gives me a brief glimpse into what my mind and body would have been like without this illness, and it’s the closest i’ll ever get to having a functioning body and mind.

Dear Future Wife...#712

Before you, love meant something different. I was naive and a little dumb, expecting fireworks and constant grand cheesy gestures because I actually believed the movies. I traveled the world looking for that unending adventure. I thought slowing down would feel stagnant and dry. And yes, I was so nervous and restless at the beginning, but the real thing we’ve grown into is so much better than I could have imagined. 

It’s not a roller coaster; it’s a leisurely drive along the coast with the windows down, warm ocean breeze, singing along to the radio. It’s not a stomach turn and rapid heart beats and sweaty palms; it’s a sigh of relief and a warm hug and squeezing your hand while shopping for sunscreen. Love with you is finding ourselves on impromptu beach hikes, picking out furniture, laughing at accidental farts sitting on the couch, discussing retirement investments, and packing lunches together. Love with you is forgetting to care about phone notifications on our whole vacation, because the only thing that mattered was how soft your bronzed skin was under my fingertips and your smile when you watched the sun sink below the horizon in the Pacific Ocean. If you told me 3 years ago I would be happy in a routine with very little travel for work, looking at home options in a neighborhood surrounded by corn fields, I would have bet my life against those odds. 

Yes, you still give me goosebumps and take my breath away, but often in tiny unexpected moments. My heart still speeds up every time I catch a glimpse of you in my boxer briefs. Love with you is unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced. Love with you is slow and meandering, the most low-key expedition I’ve ever been a part of. Love with you is waking-up-early-on-a-Saturday calm and fresh-sheets-from-the-dryer comfortable. 

anonymous asked:

hi miya! i'm curious about something. there's something i noticed about the way you about v and jimin. that their relationship wasn't as easy as a lot of people make it to be? most fans would refer to them as 'soulmates' or 'friendship goals' but you also said they could've easily hated each other. the fanservice these days too! is it a glimpse of real life? lol i'm not hatin (lay the shippers off me pls) i love them to bits but i'm a little skeptical because of how you read their r/s? thoughts?

Hi, anon! I’ll try to be brief, I swear.

But well! They mentioned it themselves how at first, during predebut, they fought a lot. They didn’t exactly get along at first, but never said why it was like that. So comparing their charts and taking what I’ve seen of them I’d say it could’ve been because they were very different in the beginning. I mean, they still are, but back then… Can you imagine how Jimin must have felt only having BigHit as an option (he said he tried more than one company but only got chosen by BH) while Taehyung wasn’t even supposed to be there that day, just went to cheer for his friend and got accepted? lmao Jimin is a very prideful guy, so it could be that only by seeing that happen already made him kinda have a different opinion of Taehyung than the one he has nowadays.

Another thing is that Jimin is a perfeccionist with his Arts, takes hours praticing, is known to practice even during his free time. The guy is very harsh and demanding with himself. Taehyung, however… I’m not saying he’s not great at his job, he definitely is - but I’m not sure to what extent he truly is dedicated to it like Jimin is. Now, please don’t get me wrong, Taehyung is amazing and definitely has awesome skills - but I’ve mentioned many times how I’ve always thought that he’s secretly a rebel that hates what the entertainment world involves. So that could mean that while he shows up to practices and does his things the way he should, he’s not as dedicated as Jimin is - at least, not in a submissive manner. Jimin is more likely to be obedient while Taehyung isn’t like that all… Not from what I can tell of his chart, anyway. Moon in Aries, Venus in Aquarius, basically everything else in Capricorn… Guy is stubborn af. And probably outright says what he’s feeling and how against he is about whatever it is that he’s being against of. Will do it, but will make faces while doing it. lol Jimin, in the other hand, has the hardest time communicating - not only is his Mercury retrograde but it’s also in Libra, a sign that yearns for recognition and praise, mostly wanting to be nice and diplomatic instead of fighting for what it wants. So this definitely made them clash. And don’t even get me started on the amount of feelings that Jimin has, guy is intense af while Taehyung can be quite cold (at least, from what I can see without his birth time). Totally opposites regarding that, Jimin is constantly worried about others while Taehyung does love the people he loves but has a harder time identifying how to take care of them, etc. These characteristics were definitely stronger when they were younger.

Having all these differences could’ve easily made them hate each other, being opposites in the way they are. However, they instead somehow realized that they had a lot to learn from each other - one helps the other managing the amount of feelings the other has, one helps the other being more aware of something, etc. It probably happened when one relied on the other at a time of pain or stuff like that, and suddenly they realized they actually needed each other. I can’t really tell exactly how it works in their daily routine without the birth times, but I know this need of teaching the other what one is good at is a constant thing in their lives. 

To be honest, to me… They’re the ones that least do fanservice, mostly because they’re so close in real life that it just shows naturally. And normally they don’t force a romantic kind of way fanservice too, they’re mostly bickering here and there - which I bet is something that they just do on a daily basis. lol All members always mention them as the 95 brats and stuff like that, they wouldn’t do it as frequently as they do it if it weren’t true. Although they do some fanservice now and then because at the end of the day it is their job… I honestly feel like most of their interactions are genuine, their charts go quite well together and makes it seem to me that they have a really strong bond that involves a lot of growth for both. I bet they still fight a lot to this day. lmao But mostly silly fights, one loves bothering the other, etc. And they easily make up on the same day. Could also involve some more serious fights since both can be quite stubborn and quick to react, but still - they end up forgiving each other ‘cause their love is bigger than their prides. Anyway, that’s what I think of it without the birth times… Could be totally wrong, though.

Originally posted by jxnhyungs

(this scene right here shows a lot to me of how close they actually are - they’re so close that this type of fanservice can get kinda of awkward since it’s based in something fake but what they have is actually real?? not sure how to explain this lol)

ok but hear me out here:
- abandoned mines and ghost towns
- bizarre and aging ~miner aesthetic~
- radio stations are nothing but static, only distant and far-off voices come through
- faded signs advertising las vegas, a brightly colored and bizarre oasis in nevada, far removed from the expansive desert you’re in
- no seagulls anywhere… nothing but the circling ravens
- the only other sign of life you see are the brief glimpses of coyotes, rail thin creatures with too-long legs and gleaming eyes
- worn down gift shops hundreds of miles from any signs of life, whose eccentric shop owners seem to know something you don’t
- the creeping feeling you’ve passed that joshua tree before….
- stark-white, alien, slow-moving windmills in groups of hundreds
- the loud and ever-present howling wind, hotter than hell and blowing tumbleweeds hauntingly across long stretches of highways

if you don’t think southern california is creepy you haven’t spent enough time here

A Poetry Riot Prompt

To Catch the Elusive

The expedition was almost over, we tracked the beast for weeks through the cold caves of the Siberian Tundra. Those with me wanted to catch the beast we were after. They saw the animal as a great prize or trophy. All I wanted was to catch a glimpse of it, to look into its eyes, peer into its soul and possibly for a brief time know what it feels life to be in the presence of this hunter that has in a way become the hunted.

Traps had been set by the men over and over with no success, each morning when they were inspected all that was found were white patches of fur on top of the solid snow. This animal was swift, smart, conning and knew that we were no match for it. I took many casts of its huge prints that we did manage to find here and there in the snow. Splade toe shapes showed me that this beast had once been caught, possibly by its front right paw as the impression seemed off and misshaped. A single paw print, a single toe was all that anyone was ever able to get, and I feared that was all we were going to know of this creature that hid from us so well.

Keep reading

kelkat9  asked:


Oh my goodness. hehe You know I can go on for days, but I’ll try to keep it brief. 

  • How I feel about this character - My precious baby!! Also the light of my life and I will defend him to the death. 
  • All the people I ship romantically with this character - Rose Tyler, the one and only.
  • My non-romantic OTP for this character -  In a strictly platonic way, I think it’s funny to have him be friends with Jake because I feel like they could teach each other a lot and would roll their eyes at each other but ultimately stretch each other in good ways.
  • My unpopular opinion about this character - He is fully the Doctor even though he’s a bit human in the lifespan area, making him Rose’s perfect match, even better than the fully Time Lord Doctor. He’s the same man, so it drives me nuts when people talk about him as if he wasn’t there in s1-4. Even more than Nine and Ten are the same man, Tentoo is still Ten in every way but one (the aging part). All of the things in s2 with Rose? All the moments they shared and everything they went through in canon? That was him. JE isn’t Rose being left with a clone, it’s a reunion of the same couple we already love and adore! Tentoo is just as much the Doctor as the fully Time Lord Doctor. And he loves Rose completely and unceasingly and to death do them part (after a very long life together). I think he’d be a good dad and look forward to that with Rose in time though understandably with some anxieties. 
  • One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon. - Again, I wish the TARDIS coral could have been left in somehow and that people would listen when Rose calls him “Doctor” in JE because he would totally still go by “Doctor” and that we had a canon brief glimpse of their very beautiful life together, happily ever after. 

Ok I’ll stop now but I leave you with this: 

Originally posted by space-and-time-in-the-tardis

Ask Me About a Character!

Episode 31 impressions! I saw the better quality subbed version.

I love how all the little details about the reveal are put together here.

There was a very gradual rise of tension in the episode, culminating in some of the best few minutes in the whole story so far. The animation in those minutes was also incredible, putting aside the brief glimpse at a CG Colossal Titan.

If there is one thing I want right now and I’ll definitely will forever remember it’s that rearrangement of Vogel Im Käfig.

In the manga it felt more like a shocking reveal, but I really felt it here. Reiner was sort of a pillar of security for Eren and the whole 104th and him being just another life, just another child and teen, definitely hit really hard to me. The betrayal part shone through very strongly here, too.

I noticed a few little off shots art-wise, but that doesn’t matter because of that moment at the end.

I loved how they executed Reiner’s speech before his transformation, too - gave it appropriate time and gravitas through that.

Again, the small additions all felt very nice, too. We never had that small moment with Connie and Mikasa in the manga - again, shows that Mikasa cares for all the 104th and isn’t just Eren-centric.

This just makes me really excited for the additions and execution of some of the material in later arcs.

Incredible episode.




Housemates!NCT Part 3

Minus the minis ofc

Your university runs out of dorm space, forcing you to find a last minute living arrangement with some international students. In other words, you’re basically screwed.

Warnings: alcohol, drugs, sex, profanity

Word Count: 1200ish bc i closed my google doc woops

Part One | Part Two | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six |  Part Seven | Part Eight | Part 9 | Part 10

Also check out my College! thing too to help you tide yourselves over as i’m a shit head :)

College!Jaehyun | Ten

A/N: I can’t believe y’all like this shit omfg. Also there’s a small serious part in here but it gets resolved fairly quickly. Part Four scheduled for either this Friday or Saturday.

Keep reading

Come Home

Originally posted by imaginesandmoreforfandom

Request: Can you do a Deanxreader where the reader has gone through a lot in her life and so she doesn’t believe in love..when Dean and reader meet she says something at which dean feels insulted..in order to take revenge Dean makes a bet with Sam that he will make the reader fall in love with him. The reader falls in love with him and allows him to be her first everything..she then comes to know about the bet and gets hurt a lot..she leaves and that when Dean realises he loves her too..a fluffy-smutty ending?

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,000ish

Warnings: implied smut

A/N: In Dean’s POV to change things up…

Keep reading

#FFXIVwrite2017 Day 4 - Self-editing

I am nice. I am polite. I am well-mannered, gentle, and inoffensive. I mind my words, I dress fashionably, and I do not make waves.

I am boring.

I’ve built a factory within and it has only one worker: me. It’s exhausting to be this bland. You wouldn’t believe the lengths I go to in order to ensure every last surface is polished to a gleam. I ought to write a manual, a primer for every woman who wants this life, just to prove that I’ve perfected the art of duplication. Who needs to bear children, anyway?

Every evening before slumber do this: Spritz a thin veneer of rosewater evenly across the surface of the skin; stare at yourself in the mirror as it dries and catch a brief glimpse at the girl you used to be. Eat her alive to ensure you remain youthful. Beseech Lakshmi for her grace if the Twelve are getting tired of your nagging.

In the morning, you rise with the sun and not a moment before. Shadows are terribly unflattering. Rub an aldgoat’s milk balm on your skin and remind yourself that any blemishes are a moral failure. Use the ointment that stings the most and repent. The vanity is your altar.

Powder and rouge to ensure a youthful glow that knocks an extra year off your age. It’s getting a little late in life to get married, isn’t it? Pat a rolanberry stain onto your lips for a smile that can start wars. This always sounds more romantic in theory, but in truth the sight of blood makes you weak at the knees. Men seem to love that.

You must see your aesthetician early and often. Find one you trust with your life, for that is precisely what they are taking care of. Find one who will make sure you go to your grave without a single chip in your manicure. Find one who puts you so much at ease that he or she could very well be the one to put you there in the first place from all the secrets they know about you. Just find one.

Never speak your first thought. Learn that it’s not you they want, it’s the you they’ve created on your behalf. Soon, this will all be natural.

Art source

Normally, because of the way I write, I don’t have interesting deleted scenes. If it was interesting, it would be in the book. I just have sloppy versions of scenes that do make it into the book. For The Scorpio Races, though, the world constantly lured me into unnecessary nooks and crannies. So I ended up with multiple scenes that I cut because they slowed the pace, not because they were necessarily terrible. There are many of them in the back of the paperback edition of The Scorpio Races. Here’s one of them.



SEAN.  No one ever gets hurt on the first day. They are all too terrified of their newly minted mounts and the smell of the fall sea. Everyone carries memories of the last time they were on the beach at the races the year before; the blood in the swells, the sighs pounded into the sand. Everyone is very careful and this caution keeps them safe, for today.

            Tomorrow, there will be blood.

            For me, though, my memories of the beach are yesterday and the day before and the day before that and day before that. There are so many lined up against one another, like waves waiting to break, that any memories I have of blood on this beach are submerged far out at sea.

            So the only difference between today and yesterday is that today the sea smells like November to me. It’s hard to define the scent: it is promise and danger and beauty and sweat. Also, today, the normally isolated beach is crowded with dozens of horses and dozens more people. It’s noisy as the cliffs when the birds are nesting. I have not bothered to bring Corr and the other two water horses down from the stable; my work this first short day will not be riding. It will be watching.

            At present, all I’m watching is my boots, which are weathered and sanded from months on the beach. They are braced into the pebbly surface, because I have a mare’s leg between my thighs. She’s been tracking unevenly and I am to fix it, according to Francis Halsal. He tells me that Malvern has told him to ask me about her gait, and I cannot imagine anyone lying about what Malvern said, so I take a look. I think Francis Halsal, who has ridden in the races once before, is perfectly capable of repairing her toeing-in himself. But Halsal is a practical, cautious man, a doctor in a place where the profession holds no status because there is mostly life or death and very little in between. He rides for the purse, for the possibility of fleeing from one social circle to another, and I think he doesn’t like to risk himself unduly until it’s necessary. So therefore it is me under the belly of his bay mare on this day and not himself.

            Halsal stands a few feet from me, arms crossed, watching me work. I cannot help but notice the way he stands; like his mare, he too is pigeon-toed, his feet headed in opposite directions. Every so often, he glances up to the ocean. I look up too, every so often. For a month, our lives will be dictated by the tide. It will grant us five hours on the beach. Six if you are up with the bakers. Seven if you aren’t afraid of the water.

            I watch the tide. I also watch for Mutt Malvern, who I haven’t seen for six hours and do not care to see again for another six. I do not see Mutt, but I see John Lottie, selling insurance to whoever will buy it. He sells it cheaply today. Tomorrow, when the first blood smears the sand, the price will go up. I have heard that the Lotties have always sold insurance, since there was the first man and the first horse living here on this rock that is Thisby. It is a strange livelihood, I think, wagering that your clients will live while they wager that they will die.

            “Sean Kendrick,” Lottie says to me. “This is six years you’ve ridden in the races. Do you really think your luck will hold out for another year?”

            He is talking to my ass, as I am still half bent over with her foreleg tucked between my thighs. I run my fingers over the uneven edge of a mare’s hoof. I don’t reply but Halsal does. He says, “That’s a strange way to greet someone, John Lottie.”

            Without looking up, I hold out my hand towards Francis. The mare tugs her hoof, shifting her weight, heavy in my hands. I hold fast and grunt, “Rasp?”

            Francis hands me my rasp. 

            “No time for pleasant hellos,” Lottie says. “Barely time for good-byes. Surely you would like some confidence in your belongings and heirs, Mr. Kendrick. Or are you leaving it to your horse?”

            “Yes,” I say, through a set jaw, as the mare tugs again. Steadying her, I give a broad stroke of the rasp across her hoof. Colorless flakes of hoof disappear in a gust of wind. “Both of my shirts I’m leaving to him.”

            Francis Halsal laughs, a short bark like a gull. This draws Lottie’s attention to him. He asks Francis, “Ah, Mr. Halsal. You riding this fine mare in the Races? Do you have any provision in place for your large family in the case that she disembowels you? If you lose a limb? Have you thought about what will happen to your widow if you are devoured?”

            I barely listen to their haggling. Someone is cantering their horse directly past us, hoof beats muffled on the packed sand, and I listen to the cadence of the footfalls. The brief whuff of breath I catch just as they pass us. The clink of metal hanging from the bridle. I look up as I hear rather than see a buck, just in time to glimpse a rider hit the ground hard and roll, sand coating his blue jacket. I can already see by the indignation of his face that he’s unharmed. Lottie abandons us for this fresh kill. I do not know if Francis Halsal has bet for or against his life.

            I hear my name, again, behind me, but I take my time with the rasp. Finally I lower the mare’s leg to the ground and rest a hand on her shoulder. Her coat is gritty with salt. “Walk her out,” I tell Halsal. “Give her ten minutes to loosen up that leg. Then trot her at me.”

One of my dad’s cousins, Sally, passed away last year, my absolute favorite of his cousins. My parents are godparents to her daughter Adriana who is in like her late 20s. We all miss her like crazy.

Last night I saw Sallygirl in my dream and she looked even beautiful than she did when I last saw her in this life. She told my mom she was happy Adriana has my mom.

Thank You, Lord, for allowing me this visit from my cousin, for bringing this brief moment of comfort, and for allowing me to glimpse the beauty that being Your eternal presence beings 💜