and i only have the source for three cause no one puts it :

List of anime series/movies with unique art styles.

For my friends on tumblr, in case you guys want something to watch, here’s a quick list of anime series/movies with unusual/unique art styles that you may or may not know.

Kaiba

With an artstyle reminiscent of the original Astro Boy, Kaiba has a very simplistic (yet stylized) and fluid style of animation and art. The story revolves around the titular character, who wakes up with a hole in his chest with no idea of who he is. I enjoyed this a lot for the art, music and characters, who all have realistic motivations and ideals, as well as the themes handled in it; such as what defines “being human” when bodies and memories are as disposable as plastic.
Genre: Sci-Fi, Psychological Drama

Redline

In terms of sheer action and excitement I got from watching a movie, I’ve got to say that Redline is one of the best ever in those departments. With a highly stylized comic-book-esque art style with a high influence from Western comics like Dick Tracy (with the emphasis on black shadows on solid colours and thick black outlines), this show is extremely fluidly animated, the movie is said to consist of 120 000 hand-drawn frames, taking seven years to complete. The movie follows the story of racer JP (aka “Sweet” JP, because of his refusal to use weaponry while racing) trying to win (and survive) the titular Redline, a race consisting of multiple racers from multiple different galaxies and planets.
Genre: Racing, Sci-Fi, Action

Mononoke

Every frame of this anime could be screencapped and slapped onto someone’s dashboard for their aesthetic. That is how distinct the art style and character design of this show is. The show uses a form of “plaid animation”, where something will be animated over a still color or object as it moves, creating most of the time a jarring effect that is usually the sign of a lazy animator, however in Mononoke, the show utilizes the art to create a sense of a surreal, dream-like environment, intentionally focusing on the jarring effect. The art and design of the environment is also extremely ornate and beautiful.
The show focuses on the story of the unknown Medicine Seller and his travels through Japan (in an unknown time period), killing spirits and creatures known as Mononoke. However, he cannot do so until he learns their Form, Truth and Reasoning/Regret, which leads to some very interesting lessons at the end of each story.
Genre: Mystery, Horror

Dead Leaves

Another comic-influenced movie, and just barely under an hour too; Dead Leaves is an extremely fun, hyper-action-packed movie with amazing character design (almost EVERY good character in this movie has a unique design, barring the civilains and generic bad guy cannon fodder), driven by slapstick, humor (usually of the sexual kind) and more pop culture references than you can digest within the time span they’re thrown at you. The story focuses on criminals Retro and Pandy; Retro having a TV instead of a head, and Pandy having a panda-like marking on her eye, who, shortly after waking up on the moon and causing havoc on a nearby planet, are imprisoned in a super-jail.
Genre: Action, Comedy, Sci-Fi

Kuuchuu Buranko / Welcome to Irabu’s Office

Combining rotoscoped 3D, 2D animation and live action elements, Kuuchuu Buranko is an extremely surreal look into the world of psychiatry. The art and designs were created by the lead artist of Mononoke, Kenji Nakamura. But whereas Mononoke had some subtlety to its art, this show is bright, colourful and neon as all hell. The show focuses on Dr. Ichiro Irabu and how he helps his patients with their problems, who are all connected in some way or the other.
Genre: Comedy, Psychological Drama

The Tatami Galaxy

With a bright visual style that also manages to be subtle at the same time, The Tatami Galaxy also utilizes not just its art as a device for story telling, but the form of the show itself to convey its messages. I can’t spoil too much about the show, but I can give you this: if you enjoy the first episode, please watch it to completion, as this show basically requires the viewer to watch the show in its entirety. The story focuses on an unnamed protagonist, commonly referred to as Watashi by the show’s fans, who tries to attain the “rose-tinted” college life style he has desired for his whole life, as well as all the challenges he faces on the way. With fast-paced dialogue, a lot of humor, interesting character and background designs, as well as the various forms of “characterization”, and also the themes tackled by this show, I’d say it’s one of my favorite shows of all time.
Genre: Slice of Life, Comedy, Drama, Psychological, Sci-Fi

Mind Game

Mind Game. Directed by Masaaki Yuasa (also the director behind The Tatami Galaxy, Kaiba and Ping-Pong). I don’t think words can do this movie justice, but I’ll try. Imagine a combination of 3D-morphing-into-2D, sketches, animated photo images of (presumably) the voice actor’s for talking, extremely smooth and fluid movement, plus an insane amount of exaggeration,all coupled with a huge range of bright and dark colours and you’ve got Mind Game’s animation style down somewhat. Go look up more GIFs, they’ll help you understand the range of styles this surreal (and extremely fun) movie goes through. The plot follows Nishi, a down-on-his-luck, 20-years-old manga writer, running into his childhood crush Myon. He discovers she’s getting married soon while they’re talking inside her father’s restaurant. After that (plus another key event), the craziness in the movie begins; Nishi having a new-found desire to live life.
Genre: Comedy, Surrealism, 

Tekkonkinkreet

Tekkonkinkreet, although similar in appearance to some Masaaki Yuasa works, was not made by the man himself (although, it was made by the company, Studio 4°Cthat helped produce Mind Game). This movie has incredibly detailed backgrounds, similar to a Studio Ghibli film, with amazing usage of lighting, camera shots and motion blur as well as a wide variety of colours and shades. The story follows Black and White, two street orphans who call themselves “The Cats”, trying to keep control of their town from dangerous enemies. Although vastly different in personalities, they support each other emotionally, mentally and physically very well.
Genre: Action, Drama, Adventure

The Diary of Tortov Riddle

The Diary of Tortov Roddle, although very short (6 episodes all leading up to 14 minutes! Watch it here! It has three special episodes that are part of the DVD though), is an interesting adventure of a surreal world that seems almost like a moving/animated picture rather than a movie or series. It follows the journey of Tortov Roddle and his pig-steed throughout this world, with just his calm thoughts and experiences. There’s no dialogue in this series but it doesn’t really require any dialogue at all, the only dialogue being Tortov’s journal entries at the beginning and end of each episode. The music, lack of dialogue and artall contribute to a very interesting, mysterious atmosphere.
Genre: Fantasy, Surrealism, Adventure

The Tale of Princess Kaguya

Straight outta Compton Studio Ghibli, The Tale of Princess Kaguya is an adaption of one of the staples of traditional Japanese folklore, The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter. This film adapts the ancient story of the young princess who grew out of a bamboo shoot and breathes fresh new life into it while still staying 100% true to the source material. The art can only be described as absolutely gorgeous, using a pale colour palette in a constantly shifting style that recalls the ancient Japanese watercolour paintings that the original story was recorded on.

Genre:  Fantasy, Drama

Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei

Oh man this show.
Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei follows the story of Nozomu Itoshiki, an overdramatic teacher so pessismistic about everything that he would try committing suicide over pretty much the smallest inconvenience (his name, when its Japanese characters are read horizontally, also translates into “Despair”) and his bizarre homeroom students’ antics. The series parodies almost everything there is to satrize in Japanese culture (the show even parodies itself from time to time with casual 4th wall-breaking from every show), as well as the general media and politics of the world, as well as having an insane amount of references to various things regardless of fame; from Gundam, Evangelion and Gurren Lagann, to Franz Kafka, Edward Gorey and South Park. The art’s very minimal (which itself gets parodied later on in the series), but it, uh, changes a lot, to put it simply.

Genre: Comedy, Parody

Ping-Pong

(gotta lot of requests to list this one)

Sports anime tends to always get a bad rep amongst anime fans for various reasons, whether it be that the viewer gets tired of seeing another Dempsey Roll, or the amount of reused frames in the series, they’re all understandable.
And so comes Ping-Pong to shatter those preconceptions of what a sports anime can be. Focusing rather on the characters, their emotions and development rather than the titular game that the anime’s based on (unlike most sports anime), this coming-of-age show following two boys as they (one actually) strive to become the best table tennis players in the world, is directed by none other than Masaaki Yuasa, who has directed a lot of the shows and movies on this list actually, with his trademark style of not having a trademark artstyle (other than wobbly simple lines and psychedelic colours).

Genre: Psychological, Drama, Coming-Of-Age, Sports

Gankutsuou: The Count of Monte Cristo

(im still in the process of watching Gankutusou and Ping-Pong (thanks school) hence why they weren’t in the original post)

Gankutsuou is what most people would call “art porn”, as it uses various still textures, colours and patterns within the character’s lineart, similar to Mononoke and Kuuchuu Buranko though to a much greater extent, while using 3D and 2D animation on the characters and backgrounds. The story is broadly based on the titular story of The Count of Monte Cristo, but with many differences, such as being set in the year 5053, plotlines and character endings being altered/removed, the pacing being changed from the original story, as well as the incorporation of many sci-fi themes. The general aesthetic of the show is that of 19th century France in a highly futuristic setting.

Genre: Drama, Sci-Fi, Thriller, Supernatural

Kaiji

Based off a popular gambling manga by Nobuyuki Fukumoto, Kaiji follows the story of the titular character, Kaiji Itou, an unemployed slacker who spends his days gambling (and always losing), stealing, drinking and being obsessed with money. He suddenly finds himself 3 million in debt, and is offered the chance to erase all of his debt, and maybe even earn some cash, in one night.

Via gambling.

With thick bold lines, exaggerated expressions and hugely caricaturized faces that woul make more sense in a comedy that all serve as a plus to the show, Kaiji is an intense psychological thriller that always leaves you on the edge of your seat, with some of the most insane and dramatic gambles in any piece of fiction.

Genre: Psychological, Thriller, Gambling

Panty and Stocking With Garterbelt

Two angels, kicked out of Heaven, have been tasked with cleaning up the filthy sin-riddled Daten City, and can only return once they’ve gotten enough Heaven coins!

Not like that matters to Panty and Stocking anyways, whose only cares in the world are what tastes good, much to the chagrin of local priest Garterbelt.

With a ton of American pop culture references, humor that would make South Park seem like a kid’s show, action that is so bizarre it can’t even be explained, and an animation style that’s more akin to a cartoon on a huge drug trip than anything else, Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt shows that sometimes too much of a good thing is still a good thing.

Genre: Comedy, Action, Parody, Not something to play around Grandma

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

There really is no other gif that explains and summarizes Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure better than this one.

Based off the hugely popular manga by Araki Hirohiko, the show follows the story of the Joestar bloodline. Jojo is unique in that it doesn’t follow one group of characters or main character throughout the entire franchise, but rather a different cast in a different location throughout the world, ranging from 1930s New York, to 1980s Japan, to Egypt and much more.

If I’m being rather vague about describing this rather popular show, I apologize, but there really is no way to properly explain this bizarre series.

With proportions that look like it was ripped straight out of a bodybuilder’s magazine, poses that could probably break your spine if even just attempted, and fights that end up being some of the most hype as well as some of the most ridiculous you’ll have ever seen, as well as a bright, dramatic colour pallete, this is a show that truly lives up to its “Bizarre” title.

(also protip: start with the 2012 adaption first rather than the 90s OVA, and read the manga.)

Genre: Action, Comedy, Supernatural, Mystery

Fran and Jock

by reddit user Pippinacious/ tumblr user muricanmagpie

I was the last in a long line of grandkids on both sides of the family. No one has ever said as much, but I’m pretty sure I was an “oops” baby; the result of one too many glasses of wine and a couple over forty who thought unplanned pregnancies were for teens.

Oops.

Keep reading

Drarry Fic Rec Masterlist

I’ve been meaning to put this together properly for some time now, so finally, here is a list of my top Drarry fics.
Definitely read through all the other works of these amazing writers. These are just my personal favourites. 

Enjoy! Hahahahah good luck ever doing anything else ever again.

First and foremost comes Saras_Girl like, I CAN’T EVEN.
So, my top favourites of theirs:

Turn (E)
The Foundations series GUHHH:
Part 1: Reparations (E)
Part 2: Foundations (E)
Helix (E)
Catfished (T)
It Takes a Village (M)
Salt on the Western Wind (M)
All Life is Yours to Miss (M)

(I don’t need to say anymore to pitch these. They are your bread and butter. READ THEM.)

Tales From the Special Branch by femmequixotic (E)
When Gawain Robards asks him to form Special Branch seven-four-alpha, Harry Potter knows they’ll have to work outside the confines of the law–even though they are the law.

(Aurors!Harry and Draco, forbidden fruit, case fic, lots of excellent smut, incredibly complex and well-written plot. I can’t even with this fic it’s so freaking good. Most recent in the series has just started posting but each individual fic is brilliant stand-alone. MASTERFUL. And so satisfyingly long.
They have so many great fics, go read them allllll!)

Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrimson (E)
Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.

(7th year AU. Really well developed and reworked to include Draco. One of my drarry firsts and an all-time love.)

Running on Air by eleventy7 (T)
Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

(So, I’m not great at reading T-rated fics… I actually read this one by accident. I am so glad I did. Beautiful fic. Melancholy and lovely and just yes.)

Against All Odds by momatu (E)
Beauxbatons is hosting the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe, and Harry has promised to enroll Teddy as his birthday present. Meanwhile, Draco is stuck in his office, putting together the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe during, when he should be enjoying summer holidays.

(Momatu really does their research and creates a vivid world with great development between Harry and Draco. Highly recommend trawling through their work and reading it all. Massive thanks to @siriusly-not-over-remus​ for reccing this to me!)

One Touch by Fleetofshippyships (M)
An unexpected incident late one night sets off a series of events that could save one young man in desperate need of help, even if doing so may destroy the other.Harry commits an act of great violence, but doesn’t remember why. Malfoy urges him to run, and takes the blame instead. The most obvious explanation makes no sense, and it only gets more complicated from there.What follows is their struggle to trust and open up to one another while dealing with dangerous and invasive magic; when stepping wrong and losing control, even if only for a few moments, could have severe consequences for them both. 

(8th year AU. Fantastic concept for plot and really well developed idea. Another one to absolutely check out a load of their work. I also highly recommend by them:

Restraint (E)
Someone casts the Imperius curse on Draco Malfoy, and whatever the instructions may be, Harry finds himself an unwilling target. The encounter leaves him torn between pleasure and revulsion. As they fight in the aftermath, a tense game begins. Harry fights to convince Malfoy, and himself, that he was not affected by that initial encounter, or any of those following it. Faced with a series of escalating encounters, Harry must come to terms with desiring things he never thought he could, things he wishes he didn’t respond to. They each use signs of arousal as weapons against each other in a mad struggle to finally shame the other into backing down for good. But it’s only after the game is over that Harry starts to understand.

(8th year AU. Great angst and enemies to lovers progression. Drinking. Games. A hella lot of rough sex. This is a smuuuuut fic. I also helped beta this fic because it was so good and I couldn’t wait for updates.)

Balance, Imperfect by bixgirl1 (E)
When Harry sustains an injury in the line of work, he no longer knows how to navigate the life he loved, and finds help and solace from the most unexpected source.

(Auror!Harry, Physiotherapist!Draco.
I totally got @sirussly​ to read this and she loved it, closet hardcore Drarry shipper right there.
I LOVE @bixgirl1 I cannot explain. All the stuff by them is just fantastic. Especially:

The Shape of the World (E)
and:
In Evidence of Magical Theory (E)

They are also in the middle of a collab with the wonderful @l0vegl0wsinthedark on a super cute and super smutty Virgin!Draco series on here (search either of their blogs under the ‘virgin draco’ tag.)

Speaking of! l0vegl0wsinthedark has a whole load of great fics (all the good smut). Absolutely worth working your way through it all!)

Draco Sodding Malfoy by Shewhxmustnxtbenamed (M)
Harry finds Draco outside a pub and takes him back to his place, only to find out that Draco is in an abusive relationship. Harry invites Draco to stay until he can get back on his feet. They go to Draco’s ex-boyfriends house, and come back with more than they bargained for.

(So. Cute. Domestic bfs. Also very worth checking out @shewhomustnotbenamed​ and their drarry videos hallooooooo) 

Azoth by zeitgeistic (E)
Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

(Hogwarts Apprentices!Drarry. Animagus magic. SO GOOD GUH. I really love the idea for Harry’s animagus and the progress is so excellent.) 

Any Instrument by dicta_contrion (E)
Draco Malfoy wouldn’t go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can’t control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

(MindHealer!Draco. THE BIG LEAGUES SO GOOD YES. Excuse me while I go read this again. OKAY BUT LOADS OF THEIR OTHER STUFF TOO ESPECIALLY:

The Vanishing Department (E)
The things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, even if that involves a lot more form-filling, bickering, covert glancing, miscommunication, and flying furniture than we might expect.

(Brilliant characterisation of Draco and really interesting idea. YES.)

House Proud by astolat (E)
His house liked Draco Malfoy more than him.

(OKAY, I LOVE THIS. WIZARD HOUSES ARE THE SHIT AND THIS IS SO CLEVER YES. REALLY FREAKING GOOD BANTER BETWEEN HARRY AND DRACO. Also other stuff by them like:

NEWTS

“I’m twenty-eight!” Harry said. “I’ve been an Auror for ten years! You want me to go back to Hogwarts now?“

(Harry has to go back to Hogwarts before he can be promoted, Professor!Draco. Yisssssss.)

- Timeshare (BONDING FIC YES)

Eclipse by Mijan (T)
Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius’s imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It’s the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But when Draco’s world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back.

(6th year AU. Pre-HBP. Another accidental T read with 0 regrets. I LOVED this, SO MUCH.)

A Year In Training by Omi_Ohmy (M)
Harry is finally living his dream and training as an Auror, but nothing seems to be going right: he’s just so angry all the time. And Draco Malfoy’s presence on the programme really isn’t helping with that, either.

(Aurors!Drarry: Harry’s pissed off Draco is better than him. I’m sure you can see where this goes…)

Eternally Consistent by kitsunealyc (E)
Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter assumed they would never be anything but civil enemies, until Potter lands on Malfoy’s doorstep, bleeding, covered in curses, and acting very strangely indeed.

(Unspeakables!Harry&Draco: Nice swift enemies to lovers progression, goooood!)

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (E)
It’s Potter’s fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It’s been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco’s getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he’s falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

(Really nice development of Draco, and fun plot! Definitely worth going through their other works too, some really great stuff!)

Strangeness and Charm by FeelsForBreakfast (E)
One November night during his eighth year at Hogwarts, Draco ends up in the forbidden forest. That’s how it starts.
or: If two boys fall in love in a magical forest, does it still make a sound?

(8th year AU. Dreamlike and sweet. Check out their other works too. I especially recommend ‘Like Holly or Blood’ (M) and 'Open for Repairs’ (M).)

Strange Bedfellows by hurt_mod and ravenclawsquill (E)
When Harry encounters a frail and fidgety Draco Malfoy at the Ministry, he just knows something is wrong and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.
A story about Deadly Nightshade, crippling insomnia, excellent wine … and finding what you need in the strangest of circumstances.


(Addict!Draco. All the good angsttttt.)

Boom Clap (The Sound of my Heart) by femmequixotic and noeon (E)
Post-war Hogwarts has been energized by its new teaching fellows program. Where once bitter enmity divided the wizarding community, Malfoy and Potter chummily patrol hallways together whilst Granger and Zabini seek lost parts of the castle at McGonagall’s behest and Chang supervises Quidditch when not lecturing in Charms. It’s a veritable wizarding utopia and life is predictable for the first time in years. Which is, of course, when everything blows apart as the result of a drunken dare and Malfoy’s life is ruined beyond his capacity to repair it. Ever. In a million years.

(TeachingFellows!Harry&Draco: Drinking games wohooooo!) 

Lift Your Open Hand by firethesound (M)
With Draco Malfoy as his assigned partner for the next six weeks of Auror training, Harry had been prepared for things to go poorly. But getting themselves accidentally bonded to each other in the first twenty minutes of their very first assignment seemed going above and beyond, even for them.

(Aurors!Drarry. Who doesn’t love a good magical bonding fic?? Lots of great works, also recommend:

A Convenient Impracticality (E)
Somehow Harry ends up agreeing to a fake relationship with his ex-nemesis-turned-friendly-acquaintance-with-benefits, except for some reason it involves an awful lot of actual dating and, sadly, not much sex. Confused? Harry is too, but when has anything with Draco Malfoy ever been as straightforward as it seems?

(Aurors!Drarry, That good fake relationship trope. *thumbs up*)

The Light More Beautiful
 (E)
Thirteen years after Draco accepts Potter’s help escaping the horror of his sixth year, he returns to England where he makes the unfortunate discovery that Potter is still as obnoxious as ever. And worse, more than a decade overseas hasn’t been enough to dim Draco’s obsession with him.

(Sort of 6th year AU, then post-war Aurors!Drarry. Really interesting speciality for Draco and great development)

I will keep updating this as I remember more/find more great fics. 
If you have any requests for specific types of fic, hmu and I’ll see if I can help :)

Happy reading! <3

M x

KURO WEEK - DAY 8 (FREE DAY): Magic.


“Lance - what exactly are you doing?”, Kuro whined, feeling the freshly closed wounds on his arm and back strain with the movement. The Blue Paladin decidedly kept his usually chatty mouth shut. Instead of answering– or even recognizing– Kuro’s defiant tugging, he gently closed his grip around Kuro’s flesh wrist a little tighter and pulled him along.


Only minutes ago they had been at the Castle’s med-bay, tending to his scratches and cuts. Their latest mission had been rough. Although it was supposed to be a simple in and out rescue mission, it had gone awfully wrong. As in, Kuro was happy he’d walked away with his flesh arm and legs still intact and attached to his body. Thankfully, the rest of the group had had more luck.

In hindsight, they should’ve known better. They should’ve been prepared for the whole mission to go sideways with how heavily guarded the planet they’d freed had been. But saving planets and whole star systems from the ones that once had created him was their job now. It was Kuro’s job now. And nothing, not even the most hopeless situation, would keep them from doing just that. Saving lives.

This whole concept, the mere thought of him being one of the good guys, still had the Galra hybrid feeling adrift and somewhat out of place. He hadn’t been created for this. For killing - yes. For fighting, shedding blood and tearing whole fleets apart - definitely. But doing so for a good cause? A higher goal? On behalf of the whole damn universe? Nope. Just- no. Kuro would’ve laughed his ass off at that prospect.


But times change you, a small voice in the back of his head provided.

Averting his gaze from the back of Lance’s head and focusing on their somewhat awkwardly joined hands instead (he was still new to the whole human interaction and physical contact thing, okay?), Kuro couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto his face.

Not times, he countered. People. People change you.


It took one more turn around a corner for Kuro to know where they were heading. Lance had asked him to close his eyes. What for, Lance  wouldn’t tell. Not even when Kuro stated how he knew they were going to Lance’s room. The Cuban boy wouldn’t have any of it; simply shushed him with a finger to the clone’s dry lips. There had been a gleam in those dark blue eyes. A gleam he couldn’t quite pin down, but made him want to lick that delicate digit pressed to his lips.


“Just do it already!”, Lance huffed and playfully put one hand over Kuro’s yellow eyes, before he opened the door to his quarters. “Or you’ll ruin the surprise.”

Had he been smiling before, he was downright smirking now.

“Lance, I swear to all deities out there, if the surprise is you taking off your clothes right in front of me, I-”

His teasing died right on Kuro’s tongue and came out as a sputtered, choked sound when he felt two warm hands grab for the hem of his own shirt and pull it upwards.

What the-

“Don’t open your eyes”, came Lance’s voice - a bit shaky, but determined nonetheless. “Just-… Take that off, will you? But please be careful with those scratches on your back.”

It took Kuro a second.

Then another two or three.

His mind had gone completely blank, out of order, Kuro.exe had stopped working. His hands however - oh he’d have to have a talk with them in the near future about not acting on their own, pulling his shirt off within a heartbeat, just because a certain Paladin told them to.


Cool air hit his bare skin - thanks for that you little traitors!, he glowered at his hands for a moment, before screwing his eyes shut again, waiting for Lance’s next move. Heartbeat thundering in his ears and filling the silence that hung over them for a few moments before the smaller man carefully took his clawed bionic hand in his own flesh ones and led him to the bed.

Even with his eyes shut, Kuro could still smell it; the way countless sleepovers made his and Lance’s scents mingle and cling to the sheets and pillows, creating a whole new fragrance that filled him with a warmth he hadn’t felt before.

It smelled like home.

Home…

Something fuzzy, tingling unfurled in his chest at that.


“Okay, now sit down, please?”, he could hear the rustling of blankets being pulled back. Without giving a second thought to it, Kuro simply purred an affirmative sound and carefully sat down as not to disturb the straining and prickling wounds on his back any further.

When he’d finally arranged himself properly on the soft mattress, the hybrid heaved a sigh.

“And… what now?”, he asked, proud that the anticipation that caused his guts to twitch didn’t seep into his voice.

Around him Lance rummaged through the room, providing him with the softest wool blanket they possessed and finally turning off the main lights.

There was a soft pad of bare feet on the cold metal floor, followed by the now familiar feeling of a slender body’s weight sinking into the mattress behind him.


Lance shifted closer behind him, close enough that Kuro could feel his breath hit the skin between his shoulderblades. Warm hands crept up his sides until they rested on his ribs. Tender. Careful. So, so careful.

“Do you trust me?”

That question, though barely audible, caught Kuro off guard.

“Uh…”, wow, eloquent as always. “Y-yes? Yes, I trust you.”

He still kept his eyes firmly shut, but he didn’t really need his eyes to know what kind of expression flickered over Lance’s face when the smaller man inhaled sharply.

A heartbeat.

Then another.

“Okay.”

The soft hands at Kuro’s ribs gave him a reassuring squeeze, before Lance continued: “If I do something you don’t feel comfortable with… just tell me and I’ll stop. Got that?”

Another purring sound escaped the clone’s throat, followed by a small nod to make sure the other one saw his approval.

“Good…”


Before he could say anything in return, Kuro felt a hesitant pressure at his back. Warm and soft, barely noticeable, but still it felt like he’d been struck by lightning. His eyes flew open. Heat rushed to his cheeks.

The room around them was mostly dark, the only source of light being the warm yellow fairy lights, they had attached to the ceiling right above their shared bed.

There were soft blankets and pillows everywhere, effectively building a nest around the two of them.

And right in the center of all this cozyness there was Lance. Sitting right behind him. Drawing lazy circles into his sides. Pressing his ever so soft lips to the tender, badly scratched skin between his shoulders. Kissing him.


“W-what… what exactly are you doing there?”, the question came out as a high, squeaky sound that made him cringe.

Lance however seemed to have regained some of his confidence over the first contact of skin to skin. For he dragged his lips over the expanse of Kuro’s wide shoulders, right to the next cut, where they lingered, as light as a feather. A shiver ran down his spine, while Lance replied - lips ghosting over his skin with every syllable: “You know, back on earth we have that term ‘to kiss away the pain’. That’s what I’m doing here.”

“O-okay? And is that… some kind of Terran healing technique?”

Trying and failing at fighting off the major blush that set his whole face on fire, he finally gave up and opted for hiding it behind his hands.

Terran healing technique? Seriously?! What the hell, Kuro?


This… this was so surreal.

Kuro felt like combusting would be an acceptable reaction by now.


“No, you silly goose”, came the huffed response. “It’s called magic.”


And with that the Blue Paladins lips continued their journey from cut, to scratch, to bruise, to scar.


Until Kuro’s whole body tingled with the warmth they left in their wake.


Magic…

___

aaaand there we go. My final entry for the @kuroweek 2017. I’ve been longing to upload this for so long now!! Especially because I made my poor bean suffer like hell. He was in dire need of something good and happy. :3 I had so much fun doing this - all of my entries. This week was super awesome! Thanks!! :3

Sisters in the snow

posted by reddit user MCDexX

I remember it like it was yesterday, although it was decades ago.

My sister and I had been fighting again, like we did so often, like I suspect most sisters do at that age.

This fight got more heated than usual. I screamed an obscenity at my sister before turning to storm out of the room, but then my neck suddenly whipped back painfully and I realised she was yanking my hair. In pain and shock, I spun around and slapped her hard across the face.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

man I don't think you can really say bro is brainwashed but gamzee's just evil when you can argue that gamzee's also possessed by cal. they even have really similar relationships to how he's formed, ie part of their souls exist inside lil cal already. which is probably a good explanation for how lil cal is able to brainwash them when he doesn't brainwash, like, dave, who is around him his whole childhood. idk, I just think gamzee's more complicated than "evil ass hole"

As it happens, Gamzee has a line I never gave much weight to before noticing Bro’s SAW interest that I’m more inclined to take seriously now, that suggests Gamzee and Bro’s relationship to Cal WAS intrinsically different:

But even if Bro is kind of a noble captor figure holding Cal back, I still wouldn’t think it excuses any of what he put Dave through. He’s still an awful dude.

As for Gamzee, here’s the main problem with reading him as “just” brainwashed.

Gamzee doesn’t require Lil Cal’s presence to go evil. In fact, Gamzee doesn’t seem to require ANYTHING to turn evil. 
But even if like, Doc Scratch ALWAYS teleports Lil Cal into Gamzee’s presence to trigger his personality shift, I don’t think it would matter.
The weight of the sheer SCALE of Gamzee’s devotion cements his place as an ultimately willing accomplice/acolyte to Caliborn’s Dark Carnival. 

And it kind of makes Gamzee fucking terrifying and a fantastic villain.

I’ll explain my reasoning here.

We know for a fact that Gamzee snaps and kills all his friends in at least one Doomed timeline. This is the source for half the code used in the creation of Doc Scratch. There’s no implication that Lil Cal is involved here at all. 

But again, let’s assume Lil Cal was here again. It doesn’t matter.

Because there is canonically, explicitly, no timeline in the history of Gamzee where Gamzee ever, ever, EVER chooses to rebel. Gamzee Makara simply does not ever choose his friends over Lord English.  In any timeline. Ever.
How do I know?

Lets talk about Ghosts for a minute. The fandom has historically kind of taken these guys for granted, and loose fandom consensus is that they aren’t coherent/who has what ghosts is arbitrary. This is incorrect!

Pretty much everybody in the Bubbles that should have alt!ghosts does, including Meenah and Aranea, the two characters who’s alt!ghosts are typically presumed “Missing”. 

This is important. The Ghosts kind of give us very low-key character development, and contextualize the characters for us. For example, Eridan is an absolute irredeemable bastard in the Alpha timeline. But in a God Tier iteration of themselves, Eridan and Feferi seemingly come to friendlier terms. In another, there’s suggestions Eridan makes up with Feferi and Sollux. In yet another, he seems to be Trans or exploring femininity at least.

The point is, there’s a certain fluidity to Eridan’s potential. Still terrible in the comic, but it’s important to remember that Eridan didn’t CHOOSE to be trapped in the meteor with Jack, or to be born to Alternia’s power system, or to be trapped in the Alpha Timeline. 

It’s important to remember these things because in Homestuck, someone with power–Lord English–deliberately and willfully chose those things FOR him. Eridan’s lives are lived in response to that imposed power structure.
These factors don’t redeem him completely necessarily

But anyway, the fact that the rest of the cast have coherent quantum expressions means there are only three real exceptions–three characters who either don’t have any ghosts at all, or should have more ghosts than they do. 

The first is Caliborn, who’s timeline has exactly one deviation from the Alpha–apparently caused by John’s retcon. This riddle’s solved easily enough:
Predomination doesn’t leave a ghost to appear in the bubbles at all.
When Calliope says she ate his soul, she means that literally. 
Caliborn’s cheating in the Alpha Timeline is indeed the only reason Calliope exists in the bubbles at all.

(This, by the way, explains a lot about the relationship between Caliborn’s soul and Gamzee/Arquis’ in the Lord English. He predominated over them, too.)

The second is Vriska, who only has a single ghost in (Vriska). This is really weird, because we literally know for a fact she dies in more than one doomed timeline! As with the two Calliopes, I think this is down to John’s retcon doing some weird entanglement nonsense to Vriska’s quantum existence.
The point is: Where others have a palette of possibility, Vriska has two extremely polarized halves. Schrodinger’s Vriska. 

Important to mention that just like Eridan, the structure of the Alpha Timeline that limits potential Vriskas is IMPOSED ONTO HER. Vriska didn’t want anything about the way she was raised or where she was born. She didn’t ask John and Terezi to retcon her into this bizarre state. Both Vriskas, like the rest of the cast, are rolling with the punches LE has seen fit to give. 

Except for Gamzee.

Hussie literally tells us Gamzee never dies. His single non-Alpha Timeline death in [S] Game Over is retconned by John, and Hussie suggests it straight up doesn’t count. But that presents a problem.

There are thousands upon thousands of Doomed troll timelines. How is it that Gamzee specifically never ever EVER dies? Well, there’s only one real way that a Non-Time player can survive a Doomed timeline, that we know of:

Dream self merger. By going to sleep as the last player present in Sburb, the Doomed Rose from Davesprite’s timeline triggers a game mechanic that ends her timeline completely and merges her consciousness with that of Alpha Rose through their dreamselves. 

If Gamzee survives his doomed timelines, this is the only possible way how.
And collapsing all of his potential instances into a single Alpha identity certainly sounds like the reduction of possibility commonly attributed to the Rage aspect.
But what that means is that to move on to the Alpha, every Doomed Gamzee must inevitably either snap and kill all the other trolls, or somehow outlast them. 

And it means that if any Gamzee had EVER, in the entire spectrum of plausibility the Alpha timeline affords, EVER been inclined to rebel against LE–then we would know. Because somewhere out there, that at least Hussie could see, there would be a Ghost to show for it.

But there isn’t. Similar in this respect only to Caliborn, Gamzee simply has no alternate deviations because he doesn’t want them. He chooses the path that leads to Lord English freely and willingly, over and over and over again. 

And like Caliborn…

Gamzee does this because he wants to. 

Gamzee doesn’t BELIEVE he’s going to become his own God–he knows it for a fact. He sees it in Lil Cal’s mangled soul. And he embraces that truth wholeheartedly, throwing himself into the acolyte role from then onwards and presumably following instructions Doc Scratch gives him throughout Act 6. 

Which we can talk about some other time. The point is: Gamzee chooses all this. Whether or not Lil Cal causes him to is beside the point, because there is not and never will be any timeline where Gamzee chooses to resist. 

Gamzee is the ultimate in shitty cosmic nazi religious zealots, and devoted to the very power structure that causes every other character to suffer so. There are no mitigating factors for him as there are for everyone else but Caliborn.
At the end of the day, he’s evil.
Bad clown. Worst enemy. 

Quiver [m]

Smut // How quiet can you be in a library? 

You swallow harshly and try to concentrate on the words on the book, your eyes have been going over the same paragraph for the last three minutes, trying to move on but losing concentration as the words began to shift and run into each other. Frustrated, you slam the book down. The sudden movement causes him to look up from his book.

“You okay?” He asks,

The urge to lash grows bigger, you are dumbfounded as to how he could sit there, face still and untelling of his devious ways.  “Of course.”, you say through gritted teeth.

“Really, cause your breathing-”

“Deep, I know.” You snap back, gripping the armchair as your foot incessantly taps on the floor. “Very deep,” you say under your breath.

Keep reading

trimax-na-boken  asked:

But WBC is real with actual documented incidents. What has a real SJW ever actually done besides make stupid people feel uncomfortable on the Internet

There is no such thing as “a real SJW”.  “Social justice warrior” was always a negative label from the beginning, created to designate those that are not representing social justice as it should be (kind of like how the term “weekend warrior” is used to describe someone who’s normally boring from Monday through Friday, but goes out of their way to indulge themselves irresponsibly on the weekends in an attempt to compensate).  Wearing that label unironically is like publicly proclaiming that you’re a bigot.  You’re utilizing the No True Scotsman logical fallacy here.  Also, the fact that you said “make stupid people uncomfortable on the internet” really doesn’t reflect well on you, especially when the majority of anti-SJWs are liberals, LGBTA people, minorities, etc. that are simply “uncomfortable” with how you’re poorly representing what we believe in.  The fact that there even is a divide between people that all desire equality just goes to show that someone is doing it wrong (hint: It’s not the anti-SJWs).  If anything, you’re just showing people exactly the kind of attitude that people hate about SJWs.  It’s the fanaticism.  It’s the extremism.  There are people who simply have faith in a higher power, and then there are people like WBC, who actively use that faith to try to harm others.  This is why they’re really the perfect analogy when discussing what SJWs are to activism.

In any case, are you sure you want me to answer this?  Because I don’t think you’re going to like what you see.

What has tumblr done, you ask?:

    Meanwhile, the sane people of tumblr mocked the shit out of them for intentionally kicking the hornet’s nest, and then whining when they got stung.

    Why?  Because 4chan contributed over $23k to it. 

    I’m sure all of this doesn’t even come CLOSE to what SJWs have done overall.  I could probably spend weeks finding all sorts of bullshit to put on here.  I openly invite others to add onto this, as I’m sure there’s a lot that’s been left out (@takashi0 might have a list on hand).

    This is why people are against “social justice warriors”.  They are NOT representing social justice.  They are NOT supporting equality.  They are only giving liberals, activists, women, minorities, and the LGBTA community a bad name.

    yerahizardwarry replied to your post: yerahizardwarry:If you could change one (1) thing…

    @nobutseriouslywhat where this is coming from?

    Okay so I looked into tracking this down and my sources might be a little fuzzy, but this is something that’s been pissing me off.

    So about three years ago on Pottermore, JK Rowling released a piece about illness and disability in the wizarding world. Unfortunately, she used this piece to basically say that wizards are “above” muggle disabilities and could cure anything they want (so long as those disabilities aren’t caused by magic. Which I suppose would imply that Harry’s bad eyesight is caused by his near-death experience as a baby or by being a horcrux, but I’m getting ahead of myself).

    So why is this problematic? In a fictional world where wizards are presented as the norm and muggles are seen as a subspecies that are too unintelligent to even be able to interact with wizards, it implies that real world disabilities are only for simple people. Read: subhuman or not advanced enough to cure their own ailments.

    I get that she tried to worm her way around this by including magical illnesses and disabilities, in characters like Moody and Lupin. But it just falls flat? Like she’s trying to cover her tracks with something like “oh well this character is too ~advanced~ to have lost his leg and eye to something as common as cancer or diabetes or anemia, that just wouldn’t be realistic. He was cursed in a fight and lost them.”

    And boy howdy, since I’ve mentioned Lupin, let’s take something straight from the horse’s mouth. (source: Pottermore)

    Yeah. Let that sink in. She wanted to have a character whose condition was a metaphor for AIDS, so she made him a literal monster? Who has to rely on the worst character in the series, a brooding abusive human fedora, to make sure he doesn’t kill people at random? Yeah, that’s the great representation that people with AIDS needed in the 90′s. /s

    (that last bit may be worded harshly. My intention is not to insult or offend you, rather, just to show my general distaste for her.)

    There’s also her transphobia. Once again we’ll go straight to the horse-woman’s mouth: her twitter.

    (You can see by comparing the open tabs between the above screenshots that I really haven’t bothered to edit or cut anything down.) This is a page of her twitter likes, and we can see not terribly far down this article. Which I unfortunately took the time to read.

    It’s an article about former VICE reporter Sam Kriss, and the sexual assault allegations that have come up about him in the last few months. So far so good, no matter how much of a vocal feminist someone is, we should be able to call them out when they fuck up, right?

    Except the article doesn’t do that. It takes all this information about men who have committed sexual assault, mostly Sam Kriss and Harvey Weinstein, and immediately backpedals. The second half of the article is basically “I know these cishet men are violent sexual predators, but we can’t blame them for that. Blaming cishet men for their own actions isn’t going to address our real problem, which is… trans women!”

    Yeah. You read me right. JK Rowling openly liked an article about how we can’t blame actual men for their crimes, but we have to pin it on trans women who are just trying to use a g-ddamn bathroom. And this isn’t the only instance of her transphobia either:

    Look, I get it. Choosing a character’s gender can be difficult (especially when you believe in strict gender roles and still think there are only two genders). But did she have to involve a crack at the character’s genitalia? Especially when you consider how much she writes about underage characters? JFC that’s horrifying in context. But it gets worse…

    There’s two major things wrong with this image. We’ll take them in reverse chronological order.
    First, let’s look at her sarcastic reply to the second writer: “Tell me about it, sister. I mean brother. No sister.” Hahaha, because purposefully misgendering others is the height of comedy, am I right(wing)?
    Second, because this one is actually the worst thing I’ve seen all day, look at the first writer she’s replying to, Dan Hodges. Notice anything interesting about his name?

    That’s an echo. For those unfamiliar, the (((echo))) began as a way for anti-Semites to point out what people or ideas in a list were Jewish. It’s not like a star of David, which began as a sacred symbol, was turned into a hate symbol, and then reclaimed; this was explicitly created as a way to single out Jewish people and target them. The echo is most common on twitter, where anti-Semites will put an ironic echo around their own names to show that they are either not Jewish or are opposed to their ideals. Putting an echo around your name is about one step above putting “14/88”, “blood and soil”, or “(insert predominantly white country, usually America) first” in your bio. It’s sick and horrifying and the fact that JK is just sitting down having a pleasant chat with him proves that she doesn’t care.

    In summary JK Rowling is ableist, transphobic, antisemitic, and the peak of white feminism.

    Knuckles : Boxer!Ashton (Part 1)

    Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

    [Following anyone/everyone who leaves some form of thoughtful feedback x]

    - Knuckles Playlist


    Talk about a third date. 

    If it were any other boy you’d probably be out at a restaurant or something on a night like this, flirting nervously across the dinner table while you try to decipher if he likes you enough to take your relationship to the next level. You’ve gone through the dating routine once or twice before, and had a pretty good idea of what to expect; if someone had told you a month ago you’d be standing right outside of a boxing ring while your date and another shirtless man beat each other to a pulp, you would’ve thought they were crazy. 

    The crowd around you gasps and your own stomach lurches, empathetically feeling the punch that Ashton just took to the cheek. Blood is already dripping down his face, the source of it located just over his left eyebrow. He looks like a mess yet he’s still on his feet somehow, determined to keep retaliating, apparently even if it kills him. 

    “Don’t worry,” Calum says next to you after noticing your concerned expression, “I’ve seen him win in worse conditions.“ 

    You want to smile, appreciative of his effort to ease your mind, but every couple of seconds Ashton keeps getting hit, hard. It doesn’t matter to you whether he wins or loses, you just hope that your fourth date won’t have to take place beside a hospital bed. 

    "Is it almost over?” you ask Calum, too new to this sport to know the ins and outs of the rule book. 

    “One more round after th–Oh!

    You missed what happened, but look back at the ring to find the opponent, a man named Donovan Diaz, struggling to stand up. Given the cheers from the audience, it sounds like most of the people here have their money on Ashton, and he just brought them one step closer to profiting. 

    The round concludes and the fighters return to their separate corners, two teams quickly making their way into the ring to begin fixing up their boys. You wish you were allowed up there, yearning just to talk to Ashton, to treat him gently after witnessing the beating he’s taken for the last half an hour. Sitting on the short stool between rounds is the closest he’s been to you all night, each break like a minute-long tease that only makes you want to be near him more. You haven’t even said hi to him yet, not given the chance to do so before the match started. 

    He knows you’re here, though. He spotted you next to his friend Calum after walking away from the first round, and lost focus for a brief second to give you a smile and a flirty wink. Some crowd members noticed, chiming in with playful remarks and whistles, causing your cheeks to burn bashfully. Ashton seemed so confident and well put together then, but that spark isn’t as evident now that he can barely keep his swollen eyes open while his crew tidies up his blood-splattered face. 

    "How long has he been doing this?” you turn to Calum again. 

    He snorts. “Boxing or fighting?" 

    "Is there a difference?" 

    "Ashton only started boxing a little over two years ago,” Calum explains, “But he, uh, used to get in a lot of trouble before that." 

    "You mean he used to get in street fights.”

    Calum pauses too long for it to go unnoticed. “Look, his childhood wasn’t the best, y'know? His old man used to come home from the bar every night and use the kid as a punching bag." 

    You glance at Ashton as he spits a mixture of water and blood into a bucket. His face is clean enough now to show the dark bruises rapidly blooming under his eyes. He’s nodding along to something one of his crew members is saying to him, his earlier enthusiasm overcome by exhaustion. It hurts your stomach to picture a younger version of him having to endure the same type of pain. 

    "Maybe don’t tell him I mentioned that,” Calum says. “I don’t think that’s what he meant when he asked me to put in a good word." 

    You almost laugh, reminded of Ashton’s charm. Of course he asked Calum to talk to you about him. Even when he’s busy in the ring, knocking the hell out of another man for the entertainment of hundreds of people, he still wants you to like him. 

    The next round begins sooner than you’re ready for it to, signaled by the chime of a bell. Ashton and Donovan force themselves to their feet, meeting each other and the referee in the center of the ring. The audience is much louder now that the end of the match is in sight, aggressively encouraging their favorite boxers to win for their own selfish reasons. You unintentionally hold your breath as the men begin circling each other; every movement sets you on edge, unsure of how many more times Ashton can get hit without collapsing. You’d like to think he’s as tough as Calum says he is, but that doesn’t defeat the fact that he’s human. 

    Ashton stealthily dodges a sudden punch swung at him, and doesn’t hesitate to backlash with a few of his own. If anyone in the stands wasn’t already ejected from their seat with adrenaline, they certainly aren’t sitting now. Ashton seems to have found a groove, delivering a number of rhythmic hits to one targeted area on Donovan, mercilessly backing him into the ropes. You bite your lip anxiously. Calum cheers beside you. For a moment it looks like Ashton might actually win this thing. 

    But Donovan refuses to go down that easily, and at the last second pulls a move that switches his and Ashton’s positions, forcing Ashton against the ropes instead. With his momentum Donovan makes up for the blow that missed before, striking Ashton’s exposed stomach directly, and sending him to his knees. He buckles over, extending one gloved hand to hold himself up while the other instinctively covers his newly found weak spot. 

    "Come on, Ashton,” you whisper under your breath, your words of encouragement getting lost under the roar of the relentless crowd. 

    It takes a second or two for him recover, but Ashton proves to have not run out of strength yet. He begins to sit up slowly, giving the audience the show they came for, but before he can get his second knee off the ground, Donovan returns with one last malicious strike to Ashton’s jaw, and then it’s over. Ashton limply drops to his side, and he doesn’t try to get back up. 

    Your eyes widen with fear. The crowd immediately starts to shout at Donovan, booing and cursing amongst derogatory names. It’s one thing to be upset over the results of a fight, but these people sound genuinely offended. 

    “Diaz better get disqualified for that,” Calum remarks angrily. 

    You look to him, hoping he’ll fill you in on what’s going on, but he’s too caught up in his own rage to be of any informant to you. 

    Ashton still hasn’t gotten up yet, and that worries you. This is the first time you’ve ever seen someone get knocked out; you don’t know how long it’s supposed to last. The referee and the man who cleaned Ashton’s cut earlier have surrounded him, trying to get him to respond. What’s probably less than 20 seconds feels like an eternity to you, but to your relief you finally catch a glimpse of Ashton’s hand moving, followed by the rest of his body. The two helpful men grab Ashton’s toned arms to lift him up while a third person joins the ring to contribute to leading Ashton down the steps. Once he’s on his way to the locker rooms, the ref exchanges hushed words with a few other officials on the side, then crosses the ring to talk to Donovan, who looks more angry than ever.

    “Can we go see him?” you ask Calum, not completely expecting an answer. 

    “Hang on,” he brushes you off, keeping his focus on the referee. Your attempt to wait patiently fails miserably, the nerves in your stomach driving you insane. 

    Eventually the announcement is made that Donovan, as Calum predicted, has been disqualified from the fight. You’re not sure what he did wrong and quite frankly you don’t really care, as long as Ashton’s okay. 

    “Good,” Calum mutters his distaste, glaring at Donovan. “Alright, let’s go." 

    Nobody’s sitting in their chairs anymore so you have to keep your eye on Calum as he guides you through the sea of people, taking a turn down the wide hallway that Ashton disappeared through. The noise behind you begins to lose its volume the farther down the hall you go, and you’re grateful to be able to hear yourself think again. Crowded areas have never been your favorite. Calum takes a left turn and you follow suit, almost running into him when he stops in front of a door guarded by a tall man in all black attire. 

    "Go ahead,” he says to Calum, opening the door for him. Calum walks in without a hitch but you aren’t given such an easy privilege. “Who are you?” The guard holds out his arm to block your path. 

    Before you can try to reason with him, Calum speaks on your behalf. 

    “She’s his girlfriend." 

    You swallow, knowing that’s not entirely true. 

    But it’s enough. "Go on in,” the guard steps back, granting you access to the private area. 

    You thank him politely as you walk into the room, even more nervous now that you’re this much closer to being face-to-face with Ashton. He’d have every right to be in a bad mood after what just happened, so you hope you’re not intruding, that he still wants to see you. 

    The people from Ashton’s team come into view and Calum offers a passing greeting, turning right to walk into a second section of the room where the lockers are actually located. 

    “He asked to be alone,” one of the individuals warns, and you recognize him from the breaks in between rounds. 

    “Yeah, yeah,” Calum waves them off, walking into the area anyway one pace ahead of you. 

    Over Calum’s shoulder you see Ashton sitting on a bench, holding what looks to be an ice pack to his colorfully bruised face. His hands have been relieved of the boxing gloves but not the tape that’s still wrapped around his tattered fists. The sweat his body was sporting in the ring doesn’t shine over his skin as much, the air conditioning of the locker room cooling it down, but loose curls of hair that managed to escape his bun still stick damply to his forehead. He’s a proper mess, but a handsome one at that. 

    “You look like crap,” is the first thing Calum addresses. 

    Ashton opens his eyes, apparently unaware that the two of you walked in, and smirks. “You should see the other guy." 

    "Mess him up pretty good?" 

    "Him and his five friends." 

    "Right, mate, now you’re full of it." 

    They both chuckle, and you’re relieved to find that Ashton still has his sense of humor. He takes a deep breath, directing his attention to you. 

    "Hey, gorgeous." 

    You smile sympathetically. "How’re you feeling?" 

    "I’ve been worse." 

    "Not by much,” Calum interjects. “Quit letting people beat the shit out of you, would ya?" 

    "Good advice. I’ll try that next time.”

    “Happy to help.” Calum lets his hand fall on Ashton’s shoulder, who grunts in pain. “Anyway, glad to see you’re still alive,” he takes a step back, glancing at you, “I’ll give you two a minute." 

    Calum strolls into the other part of the locker room, leaving you alone with Ashton. Over your last few dates you’ve grown used to having him all to yourself, and this is how you prefer it. 

    He turns to you again, his expression one that suggests he knows he’s in trouble. 

    "Ashton,” you sigh, closing the distance between the two of you by sitting next to him on the bench. 

    “You shouldn’t see me like this,” he says. 

    “A little late for that, isn’t it?” You reach for the ice pack pressed to his cheek. “Let me." 

    He allows you hold it there for him as your other arm snakes over his shoulders. He scoots closer, cuddling into your chest, accepting your affection like a sleepy child. He’s hurting more than he’s letting on, and you’re the only person he doesn’t feel obligated to put on a brave face for. 

    Your fingers tamper with the band holding his hair back, pulling it out and catching the short strands between your fingers. He lets out a content breath, relaxing into your touch. 

    "You scared me,” you confess.

    “Did I?”

    “You weren’t getting up." 

    He smiles inappropriately, taking away from the seriousness of your concern. "You don’t have to worry about me, angel." 

    You beg to differ, but opt to delay that talk, unwilling to admit how much you’ve grown to care for Ashton over the short amount of time you’ve been seeing each other. The information Calum spilt earlier about Ashton’s childhood only added to the fire, and you can’t help but wring your heart over the thought of the unconditional nurturing little Ashton was denied as you run your nails soothingly along his scalp. 

    "You’re much better at this than Calum is,” he murmurs. 

    “At what?" 

    "Snuggling." 

    You laugh, still impressed by his lighthearted attitude. "He told me you asked him to put in a good word." 

    Ashton smiles, shifting to curl one arm behind your back to wrap around your waist, and lazily grazes your stomach with his other hand. "How’d he do?" 

    "I’m here, aren’t I?" 

    He gives your side a light squeeze. "You are,” he says appreciatively, then comes to a realization. “You are. Don’t take this the wrong way, but how’d you get in here?" 

    "Oh–Calum, uh, told the guy outside that I’m your girlfriend, and he bought it." 

    "My girlfriend,” Ashton echoes to himself. “I like the sound of that." 

    You’re about to vocalize your agreement when you’re cut off by a sudden commotion coming from the entrance. It sounds like someone forced their way inside, despite the many demands yelling for them to stop. 

    "Where is he?” an accented voice disrupts the otherwise calmed atmosphere. “Irwin!” is shouted before the man the voice is coming from storms around the corner, turning out to be none other than a fuming Donovan Diaz. 

    He comes to a halt when he sees the two of you cozied up on the bench, mockery already taking form in his eyes. “Aw, isn’t this a sweet picture.”

    You’re not surprised that Ashton retracts his arms from you and sits up, internalizing the pain in the face of someone less forgiving. Recomposed and impenetrable, he addresses you softly. “Will you get me a water bottle?” His eyes flash to a cooler on the far side of the room, making the message clear. He’s not asking for the sake of a favor, just to send you away from this confrontation in case Donovan unpredictably tries anything. 

    Begrudgingly, you get up and leave Ashton’s side, trusting that he knows what he’s doing.

    “Yeah, grab one for me, too,” Donovan taunts, clearly enjoying himself. 

    “What do you want?” Ashton cuts to the chase. 

    Donovan rolls his jaw, taking a threatening step closer. “I’m just making sure you know you didn’t win that fight.”

    “Nah, I didn’t win. You were just disqualified,” Ashton retorts. “Thanks for that illegal hit, by the way." 

    "What can I say? You piss me off. I couldn’t help myself." 

    You open the lid of the cooler, shuffling the melting ice as you remove a plastic bottle from it. 

    "Hope it was worth it.” Ashton leans against the back of the bench, tilting his chin up to rest his head, a smug smirk plastered across his face. 

    “What the fuck is so funny, huh?” Donovan steps closer again, and you flinch despite not being in his path. Would he really start another fight right here? 

    You’re not willing to find out, knowing that even in his current condition Ashton would have too much pride to back down. With a full water bottle in hand, you begin to make your way back over to the bench, standing behind its corner cautiously. 

    “Get out,” you dryly demand, protective instincts kicking in. 

    Donovan raises his eyebrows, almost acting impressed. He glances you up and down, chuckling patronizingly. “That’s cute, princess. You think you’re bad?" 

    "I wouldn’t mess with her, Don,” Ashton warns from his seat. On the outside he looks unbothered, but there’s a new, intimidating edge to his voice, one that you hope you never find yourself on the receiving end of. “She’ll win." 

    Donovan must notice it as well, staring you both down one last time before rolling his jaw again and leisurely retreating, acting like it’s his choice to walk away.

    Your shoulders slump after he’s gone, unaware of the tension you were holding until this point. Now that you can think clearly again you’re not sure where everyone in the other room went–surely they would have interfered if they had been around to see Donovan walk in. 

    "Well we’re even,” Ashton declares, “You sure just scared the hell out of me." 

    You refill the seat beside him, and he repositions himself to face you fully, placing his hand on your hip to slide you closer. In the process you cup his face, careful not to irritate his injuries, and connect your lips to his. 

    It’s a short kiss that Ashton wasn’t expecting, but craves more of as soon as you pull away. 

    "That was nice,” he says sweetly, feathering his fingers down your cheek and pouting your bottom lip with his thumb. “If the feeling in my face would just return I’m sure it’d be even better." 

    You laugh, defeatedly lowering your head to his shoulder and hiding your face in his neck. 

    "There’ll be plenty more for you to feel later.”

    Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven  | Part Eight  | Part Nine

    Masterlist

    Hot Mess: Part 1

    Genre: Smut

    Words: 3171

    Pairing: Yoongi x reader x Jungkook

    Summary: Your high-school reunion is interrupted when your high school besties come up to you with an absurd request that they want you to fulfil. You won’t give in…will you? 

    Warning: Contains sexually explicit and mature themes.



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    Limerence (Yoongi x Reader)

    Originally posted by gotjhope

    Admin: Mimi

    Prompt/Ask: hi can you do a fic where youre in love with suga but he rejects you because you’re like a little sister to him but when you start to avoisld him or something, he starts to miss you. Thank you!!

     - Limerence; (n) the state of being infatuated with another person. -

    Fandom: BTS

    Genre: Angst, fluff

    Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

    Warnings: language (what’s new), public embarrassment (I guess?)

    Word Count: 8414 (I’m so sorry)

    Authors Note: Yoongi is my babe and I love him with all my heart as much as I love Jungkook and I want to protect him and love him and care for him forever and always *gasps for air* So yeah. A Suga request! I’m so sorry this took forever, and I’m even sorrier that it’s so long, I know long fics aren’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I hope you enjoy it regardless. Let me know what you think, and happy reading!

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    Foodie Friday: Acorn Bread!

    Ingredients: 

    - 1 cup acorn meal
    - 1 cup flour
    - 2 tbsp baking powder
    - ½ tsp salt
    - 3 tbsp sugar
    - 1 egg, beaten
    - 1 cup milk
    - 3 tbsp oil

    1) Heat an oven to 400 degrees (F). As you wait, grease a loaf pan and sift together the dry ingredients.

    2) In a separate bowl, combine the wet ingredients. Either in a stand mixer or with your arms, gradually mix in the dry ingredients until a thick batter is formed.

    3) Pour the batter into the pan and bake for about 30 minutes!

    Chef’s Note: If you can’t find acorn meal, or otherwise don’t wish to order it online, it is possible to make your own! Just be sure to harvest wisely, and to prep the acorns properly so as to avoid bitter flavors and upset stomachs! More information to follow!

    Magical Ingredient!

    As some know, I live on the Central Coast of California. Here, the weather is lovely and temperate year round, and the hills are perpetually deep green with the leaves of our native coast live oaks. Though the majority of our cuisine here is beef (BBQ being a bit of a staple around here) and seafood, it hadn’t always been that way. Imagine the excitement I had at a young age when I learned that those twisted and ancient branches dropped a food source year round which both the Salinan and the Chumash tribes made use of!

    Today, acorns are often swept off of front porches, and especially in this area, they are usually disposed of along with the rest of the green waste. Pounds and pounds of the little nuts go to waste, but they could instead be harvested for a treat that has largely been forgotten throughout Europe and European countries, save for a couple of dishes.

    Just in time for Thanksgiving, this particular bread is sweet and nutty, and ideal for a dessert, appetizer, or even a light breakfast! In addition, it’s very healthy and allows us to incorporate the magic of acorns and oak trees in ways we may otherwise overlook!

    Like oak trees, acorns and humans have a long relationship. These beautiful trees grow throughout the northern hemisphere, with many different species and variations within the family. As a result, acorns can be found throughout the whole range, and where acorns can be found, humans had consumed them at some point in history. Because they are plentiful, and produced year-round, they were an easy-to-harvest food source, and were highly nutritious after some preparation.

    It’s not completely clear how or why we switched over to grain, but the current running idea is that as demand for food rose with growing populations, there were occasionally conflicts over resources. Grain was simpler to carry, easier and quicker to grow, and took very little energy to harvest and prepare. When under attack, it’s a lot more difficult to dig up an oak tree and carry it away than it is to grab a handful of grain to grow.

    However, oak trees never lost their significance in lore and history - the Irish Celtic writing system, called “Ogham,” is now linked to tree mythology, and features the Oak as its seventh character, “Dair.” In Irish folklore, the oak was a watcher and protector - a tree which represented nobility, stability, and strength. So much so, in fact, that it was associated with the Dagda, who was the chief of the Tuatha De Danann (the Irish Celtic gods). It was highly venerated by varying other Celtic cultures throughout Europe as well, and even by the Norse, who believed the oak tree to be a connection to the three worlds of the shaman.

    One of the most famous stories involving an oak tree surrounds that of “Thor’s Oak.” It was said that a particular community of Norsemen venerated an oak as being sacred to Thor. A Catholic missionary challenged Thor, saying to stop him from cutting it down if he exists. The missionary then took an axe to the tree. A storm broke out and lightning struck the tree, destroying it. That moment, the whole community converted. Though the validity of this tale is left to some debate, it can be taken either way - did the missionary truly put the Norse gods to shame, or did Thor intentionally strike the tree to send a message?

    Regardless, the fact that the tree was an oak says a lot about what was being said in the story - the royal nature of the tree, its strength, and its sacred status made it an important symbol of pagan faith in Europe.

    In North America, the oak was still an important symbol and useful food source. In one Sioux legend, for example, a hunter who spurns the advances of an enchantress wakes one night to find an oak growing out of his belly, and is trapped in the rapidly growing oak tree until the spirit ruling over thunder and lightning frees him. This provides the oak with a link to magic, as well, which is another feature we see in much of European lore.

    Hopping back to Europe, in fact, the oak tree has some association with the faerie -an inherently magical concept. And in some variations of the Arthurian legends, Merlin meets his downfall at the hands of Morgan le Fay, who imprisons him in an ancient oak tree. (Note that this is only in some variations… other variations include a stone tomb as in the Lancelot-Grail and in Le Morte d’Arthur.)

    In today’s witchcraft, the oak tree has a long history, but the acorns have their own unique purposes as well. Given that they are plentiful, they are associated with wealth and prosperity. Furthermore, their connection to the oak tree connects them to wisdom and protection.

    Place acorns on an altar to attract faerie or to draw luck and prosperity to your home, or simply as an excellent way to help ground your spells. When placed in a window, acorns help ward against negativity and harmful spirits. String acorns on a cord as a necklace or charm to ward against lies and deceit, and to draw wealth and luck.

    Holding an acorn, one can also cleanse by using it to help channel away negativity and stagnant energy. Acorns can also be used as a symbol for male fertility, and therefore can be used in charms, bags, or other spells to enhance fertility and promote masculinity in spells where needed.

    In kitchen witchery, the acorn is often overlooked for the very reason that few ever consider it to be a food item anymore (I should note, though, that acorns are still consumed in Korea and that it’s possible to acquire acorn soba noodles online) and because it takes some work to ensure that the acorns are leached of all their toxins. However, all of the aforementioned properties can be incorporated into the breads, pancakes, cakes, et cetera that can be made with acorn flour.

    Harvesting and Preparing Acorns

    If you plan on harvesting and cooking with acorns, be sure to gather at least a gallon of acorns from a safe and pesticide-free location. Take these and place them into a bucket, and pour water into the bucket. Any acorns that float should be removed, as they may contain oak weevils and other parasites. 

    Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil. Transfer the acorns into the boiling water for about thirty seconds, then immediately remove them. This will help make shelling them easier - using a nutcracker, or hammer and towel, crack open the acorns. 

    Transfer all of the acorns onto a sheet tray in an even layer, and bake them in an oven for about 20 minutes to a half hour at 250 degrees (F) to dry them out. The nuts themselves will shrink and separate from the shells and inner membranes. From there, you can easily remove the nut meats and save them for preparation.

    The next step is incredibly important - it will remove the bitter flavors from the acorns, and will remove all of the tannins which can cause stomach upsets. Place the acorns into a pot, fill it with water, and place over medium heat. Allow the acorns to lightly boil for an hour, then strain in a colander. Repeat this as many times as it takes for the water to come out clear and the acorns no longer have bitter flavor.

    At this point, the acorns can be mashed up and dried for grinding into meal, grits, and flour!

    These little nuts have been used as a food source for thousands of years, and though it takes a lot of work to prepare them for safe consumption, they are particularly healthy and quite delicious! The history and relationship between oaks and humans is extensive, and filled with magic. So when it comes time for the Samhain season, the Thanksgiving season, or even for a healthy snack, see what kinds of benefits the magic of acorns can bring to you!

    May all your meals be blessed! )O(

    2

    Follow Your Dreams

    Characters: Jensen x Reader, Conan O’Brien, Jared Padalecki

    Warnings: Nothing but FLUFF (come on, do you know me by now?)

    Word Count: 1k

    A/N: This story is for @impalaimagining’s cheesy pick-up challenge that I COMPLETELY let fall through the cracks. It’s so late it isn’t even funny. I picked the line, “Do you mind if I walk you home? My mother always told me to follow my dreams.” And thanks to @atc74 for submitting the above gif of Jensen. It took a LOT of necessary staring to come up with this blurb. Hope you enjoy it!

    Feedback Appreciated

    Tags at the Bottom

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    Family

    Ford leaned against the gates beside his brother. They were currently outside the gates of Wildwood Middle School, Piedmont, waiting to pick Dipper and Mabel up from school. They had arrived in California unannounced. They’d docked the Stan O’ War II over in Emeryville and had been picked up by Dipper and Mabel’s parents. Neither party had told the kids they were coming - it was a surprise. It was roughly two months into the school year and two months since the older Pines twins had first set sail on the Stan O’ War. They had decided to pay the kids a visit. Dipper and Mabel’s father, Jason, had been overjoyed to discover that his supposedly ‘dead’ Uncle Stanley was actually still alive and that Ford was here too. It had been a fairly tearful reunion on both parts - Ford had barely met his nephew before and he’d been elated to finally get to know him properly. The younger twins’ mother, Kristen, was really pleased to meet them too.


    “What time did Kristen say the kids finished?” Ford looked over at Stan. “Three, wasn’t it?”


    Stan checked his watch. “Yeah, they should have been out by now, surely.”


    As if on cue, a loud bell rang out across the school grounds and a minute later kids started filing out, meeting up with their parents and friends and leaving. The older Pines twins scanned the sea of children for any sight of Mabel and/or Dipper. After five minutes, Mabel’s familiar cheery voice could be heard over the crowd. Stan and Ford stayed put, waiting for her to get closer. Mabel walked right past them, barely able to see them beyond the taller kids either side of her. She seemed to be looking for her parents.


    “Where do you think you’re going?” Stan called.


    Mabel whirled round and gasped. A wide smile instantly spread across her face and she ran towards them. “GRUNKLE STAN! GRUNKLE FORD!” She exclaimed, running up to them and embracing both of them in tight hugs. “What are you doing here?!”


    “Well, we were passing California and thought we’d come and visit you.” Ford was beaming, hugging her tightly. “We docked the boat over in Emeryville.”


    “We couldn’t resist coming to see you,” Stan grinned, lifting Mabel up and embracing her tightly. The little girl wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling.


    “It’s so good to see you too! What’s the boat like? Have you found any monsters? Have you found any treasure?!”


    “Relax, pumpkin,” Stan chuckled, setting Mabel back down again. “We’ll explain everything when we get home.”


    “You’re staying with us?!” Ford didn’t think it was possible for Mabel’s smile to get any bigger, but he was proved wrong. “Really?!”


    “Yep,” Ford grinned. “We’ll be staying in the spare room at your place,”


    “How long will you be staying?”


    “Dunno,” Stan shrugged. “Until your parents get fed up and kick us out.” He smirked.


    Ford laughed. “That could either be in an hour or a month.”


    “Dipper’s gonna be so happy to see you guys!” Mabel turned round, scanning the crowd for her twin. “When he eventually gets out.”


    Ford stood on the tips of his toes to look over the heads of the parents in the crowd. For a moment, he was looking for the familiar blue and white pine tree cap, but then remembered the boy had traded hats with the ginger Mystery Shack employee (Wendy? Was that her name?) before they had left Gravity Falls. Sure enough, he soon spotted the boy amongst the crowd. “Dipper!”


    Dipper perked up as he heard his name being called. He frowned. That couldn’t be who he thought it was, could it? No, they were out on the boat - That was until he saw Grunkle Ford’s head above those of the other parents. “Grunkle Ford!” He rushed forward, shoving kids out of the way.


    A split second later, Ford had been tackled by the young boy. He laughed, scooping Dipper up into his arms and hugging him tightly. “Good to see you too!”


    Dipper laughed, his deerstalker hat lying lopsided on his head, as he wrapped his arms around Ford. “What are you doing here?”


    “We were sailing past California and decided to come and see you.” Ford grinned, putting Dipper down beside his sister. “We’ll be staying at your place for a little while.”


    “Really?!” Dipper’s reaction mirrored his sister’s. “Wait… we?”


    Stanley laughed. “Hey, where’s my hug?”


    “Grunkle Stan!” Dipper ran over to the other man, hugging him equally as tightly. “You’re here too?!”


    “Course. What, you thought Ford left me on the boat so he could see you all by himself?” Stan chuckled, hoisting Dipper up into his arms for a better hug. “No way was I staying put on the boat!”


    “Come on, you guys!” Mabel grabbed Ford’s hand and started dragging him towards where the car was parked. “Let’s go! I’ve got so much cool stuff to show you!”


    Ford laughed and looked over his shoulder at Stanley. “Yeah, Stan, come on! I can’t drive, remember?”


    Stanley scoffed and put Dipper down, following his brother and Mabel over to where they’d parked their parents’ car (they’d borrowed the family Volvo). “Only because you forgot how to,”


    Ford tried to look indignant, which was kind of difficult with a hyperactive thirteen-year-old clinging to his wrist. “Hey! It’s not my fault I didn’t drive for thirty or so years while I was lost!”


    Stanley shoved his brother’s shoulder playfully as he caught up to them, Dipper by his side. “Yeah, I know, Poindexter. Those alien cars were too weird, huh?”


    “Do you have any idea how difficult they are to steal - I mean operate?” Ford coughed.


    Stanley burst out laughing. “You tried to steal one? My brother, Mr Couldn’t-Even-Take-Free-Samples? Didn’t that Sanchez guy ever lend you his car?”


    “A) It was a ship, not a car,” Ford held up a finger. “And B) No, he was always the one driving.”


    Stanley rolled his eyes as they got to the car. He climbed into the driver’s side. Ford went to open the passenger side door, but Mabel beat him to it. “I wanna sit up front!”


    “No fair!” Dipper protested. “You had shotgun on the way here!”


    “Did not. You’re lying,” Mabel stuck her tongue out at him.


    “Am not!”


    “Are to!”


    “Am not!”


    “Are to!”


    Ford gently pushed Mabel out the way and stood in front of the door to the front passenger seat. “Right, how about I get shotgun privilege, since you can’t decide who gets it?”


    “No!” Both of the younger twins cried in unison. “That’s not fair!”


    “Grunkle Ford Mabel had it on the way here!” Dipper protested.


    Ford shrugged. “Maybe I want to sit in the front seat for a change?”


    Stanley was laughing. “Just sit in the front, Mabel.” he chuckled. “But Dipper gets shotgun on the next two trips, okay?”


    Mabel stuck her tongue out at Dipper again and climbed into the front seat, dumping her school bag on the floor. “Thanks Grunkle Stan!”


    Dipper pouted and got into the driver’s side rear seat. Ford sat next to him and pulled his seatbelt on. “It’s alright Dipper. You get shotgun next turn, anyway.”


    Dipper smirked. “Okay,”


    Stanley started the car and adjusted the rearview mirror. “Seatbelts on?”


    “Yes!” The three passengers said simultaneously.


    Stan looked in the mirror at his brother. “Was that really necessary?”


    Ford crossed his arms, a smug grin on his face. “Yep, now would you just drive?”


    Stanley rolled his eyes and put the car into gear before pulling out into the road and heading back towards the kids’ house. Ford leaned back in the seat, one arm around Dipper’s shoulders. Dipper leaned against him. “So,” Dipper said. “What’s the boat like?”


    “It’s not bad, actually,” Stan said. “McGucket helped us with a lot of the construction, so as you can imagine it’s got a lot of tech built into it. He somehow managed to invent and then integrate a filtration system that filters all the crud and salt out of the seawater and then even heats it so we can have a functioning shower and taps and everything. That way we don’t have to make frequent stops at ports to have the water tanks refreshed.”


    “He also hooked up fully functional solar panels so we could have a constant source of power,” Ford added. “He’s found a way to use the panels to charge a main battery in the boat so that we have power during rainy days too. There are several backup batteries on board too.”


    “He even managed to set up a system so that we could have constant phone and internet signal.” Stan said. “The man’s a genius.”


    “So you can, like, watch TV and stuff while you’re on the boat?” Dipper grinned. “That’s awesome.”


    “Well, no, on account of the fact that we don’t have a television on board,” Ford pointed out. “As much as Stanley wanted to have one, it would use far too much power. We each have a laptop, though, and plenty of books.”


    “What! No TV?” Mabel gasped. “How on Earth can you manage without TV?”


    Ford laughed. “That’s what Stanley said, but he’s been just fine so far.”


    “So far,” Stan emphasised. “Trust me, I’m slowly going insane on that boat what with Ford’s incessant rambling.”


    “I do not ramble!” Ford said indignantly. “I have perfectly meaningful conversations with myself!”


    “First sign of madness - talking to yourself.” Stan pointed out. “Face it, Poindexter, you’re losing it.”


    Ford laughed. “Of course I’m insane if I spent the last two months stuck on a boat with you.”


    Stanley glared in the mirror at his brother, only causing Ford to laugh again. “You know I can still throw you overboard in your sleep.”


    “I can swim,” Ford crossed his arms. “Plus, I know you wouldn’t throw me over.”


    “Could we see the boat?” Mabel asked. “It sounds really cool!”


    “Of course! We could take you down after dinner, if you wanted,” Stan offered as he pulled into the driveway. The kids immediately jumped out and ran up to the front door. Ford climbed out, soon followed by his brother. Stanley locked the car and followed the kids up to the front door. Dipper unlocked the door and let them in.


    “Mom! Dad! We’re home!” He called.


    “Why didn’t you tell us Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford would be here?!” Mabel demanded as her mother came out of the kitchen.


    Kristen laughed. “It was meant to be a surprise! They arrived a couple of hours ago.”


    Mabel turned and glared at Stan, smirking slightly. “So you told them you were coming but you didn’t tell us?!”


    Stan put his hands up in defence, grinning. “Hey, you were happy to see us, weren’t you?”


    There was a snort from the kitchen before a small pink blur knocked Stan over and started licking his face. The man laughed and lifted the pig off his chest. “Good to see you too Waddles.”


    Ford knelt down and gave the pig an affection scratch behind the ear. Waddles snorted happily before trotting off into the living room. Ford stood back up straight and looked at Kristen. “So you weren’t particularly against having a pig in the house?”


    “No, he’s surprisingly well trained,” Kristen looked to where the pig was settling down into a small dog bed. “No mess and he barely leaves hair anywhere.”


    Dipper grabbed Ford’s hand and started dragging him towards the stairs. “C’mon Grunkle Ford you gotta see our bedroom!”


    “Hold on Dipper,” Ford laughed. “Let me take my shoes off first.” Dipper waited all of thirty seconds while Ford removed his shoes before dragging him up the stairs again. Mabel dragged Stan upstairs too. The kids showed Stan and Ford all their schoolwork, pictures, projects and everything they’d been doing since they left Gravity Falls. Dipper showed Ford a journal he’d been writing in, similar to Ford’s own journals, and Mabel showed Stan all the new sweaters she’d knitted. She presented both of her grunkles with a new sweater each. Ford’s was a deep navy blue with a golden six-fingered hand embroidered on the front. Stan’s was dark red with his ‘Order of the Holy Mackerel’ logo on the front.


    At about five o’clock, Kristen called up the stairs. “Dinner’s ready!”


    Mabel and Dipper instantly dropped whatever they had been holding and rushed downstairs. Ford and Stan followed them. They sat down at the large dining table in the kitchen just as Kristen was setting down plates of lasagne portions in front of the kids. She gave another plate each to Stan, Ford and her husband before taking her own and sitting down.


    “So,” Kristen started. “What sort of things do you eat on the boat?”


    “Dried and canned things, mostly,” Ford said. “We’ve got a freezer on board, so we can have frozen meat, veg and fish too, but nothing anywhere near as good as this,” he placed a forkful of lasagna in his mouth.


    Stan was wolfing down his food at a rapid pace and nodded. Ford whacked his shoulder. “Stan! Eat properly, not like a pig!”


    Waddles gave an indignant snort, causing the family to chuckle. Stan swallowed. “I’m not that bad!”


    “At least chew your food, don’t inhale it.” Ford rolled his eyes and kept eating. He looked across the table at the kids. “How was school?”


    Dipper seemed to go quiet as Mabel instantly burst into a speech about everything she’d done. “Well, first off in Chemistry we got to make crystals, then in Biology we dissected a kidney, then in Art we got to draw any creature we wanted - I drew Waddles, obviously, and Dipper drew a gnome - then in English we had to write a short story, then in -”


    Ford seemed to zone out to what Mabel was saying, more focused on Dipper. The boy had his hands folded in his lap and his head was down, his dinner sitting on the table forgotten. He kept clenching his eyes shut and wiping them with the back of his hand. Ford cleared his throat and put his fork down. “Dipper? How was your day?”


    Dipper seemed startled by the question, rubbing his eyes furiously. “Oh, it was… it was fine. Kind of boring, really,”


    Ford frowned as the boy kept eating, albeit slowly. He decided not to press the issue any further at the dinner table. Mabel was still excitedly telling her parents all about the story she had written in English. Once they had all finished eating and the kids were excused from the table, Dipper went straight back upstairs. Ford heard him slam the bedroom door shut. Mabel, however, frowned and went into the living room and began watching TV. Waddles trotted after her and sat on the floor in front of the couch.


    Ford rose from the table. “Excuse me a moment,” he said, tucking his chair in and heading upstairs to the kids’ room. He knocked on the door gently. “Dipper?”


    Ford heard sniffling from behind the door, before a quiet “Come in,” was heard. The man turned the doorknob and let himself in. Dipper was sat on his bed cross-legged and wiping his eyes. Ford closed the door quietly behind him and sat beside the boy.


    “Care to tell me what’s wrong?”


    Dipper stayed quiet for a moment, thinking. “.. have you ever felt like no matter what, people are still really mean to you, even if they don’t know you?”


    Ford bit his lip and weighed his options. He could approach this question in several different ways. He could ask why Dipper felt this way, give a quick laugh and assure the boy that he had, or reassure Dipper that he was a perfectly wonderful young man who didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting. He opted for the straightforward answer. “Yes, unfortunately these -” He held up his hands and moved his extra fingers “- meant that, without even getting to know me first, my classmates treated me horribly.”


    Dipper nodded, quietly avoiding Ford’s concerned gaze. He wrung his hands in his lap, biting his lip nervously. “Right… should have guessed that…”


    Ford laid a hand on Dipper’s shoulder gently. “Trouble with kids at school?”


    The boy nodded, tears stinging his eyes again. “Yeah, they keep picking on me, and calling me mean names,”


    “Can I ask what?” Ford asked gently.


    “Dipshit, dipstick, starboy and… uh…” Dipper bit his lip harder, almost enough to draw blood. “Freak,”


    Ford felt an icy chill go down his spine. He was more than used to hearing others call himself a freak, but to learn that Dipper was also on the receiving end of such insults was sickening. His grip on the boy’s shoulder tightened momentarily. He loosened his grip, pulling Dipper closer to sit in his lap. He shuffled back on the bed, sitting up against the wall. “Di - Mason, can I tell you something?”


    Dipper, still unused to hearing his real name from anyone other than his parents, took a moment to answer. “Yeah,”


    Ford swallowed and took a deep breath. “When I was growing up, between the ages of four and eighteen, I had a similar experience to yourself. People took one look at my hands and decided that, as I was different, I should be punished. At every opportunity, I was insulted, shouted at, shoved, punched, kicked, beaten and I was frequently the primary target in food fights. After a while, I’d had enough” He held his left hand out in front of Dipper. “See that scar?”


    Dipper held Ford’s hand in both of his own, looking at the thin scar running across the knuckle of his sixth finger. “Yeah,”


    Ford took another deep breath. “I was fifteen when I did that. I locked myself in the bathroom one evening with a knife and attempted to remove my finger. I thought that maybe, if I got rid of the extra fingers, I could be normal. People would stop picking on me and I could finally get along with my peers.” His hand was shaking slightly, his voice beginning to crack. The memory was still painful. “I was a fool, and if hadn’t been for Stanley, I would have succeeded. He broke the door down and brought me straight to a hospital. He made it absolutely clear to me that removing my extra fingers was not the solution. It took me thirty years drifting through all sorts of interdimensional horror to realise that.”


    Dipper was quiet, his mind processing everything that Ford had said. He hadn’t expected his great uncle to confess something like that. His thumb ran absentmindedly back and forth across Ford’s scar. “I sometimes wear make-up,” he eventually said. “To cover up my birthmark. I use Mom’s foundation. That’s why I always used to wear my pine tree hat, ‘cause it pushed my hair down over my forehead so nobody would see it.” The boy turned around so he was sitting facing Ford. “I don’t like wearing makeup, but it’s the only thing that stops them laughing at me. They laugh at me for wearing makeup, too,”


    Ford sighed quietly, pulling Dipper into a hug. He laid his chin on top of Dipper’s head. “It’s tough,” he said quietly. “Especially when it’s not something like a person’s weight, which can be altered with some effort.”


    He felt Dipper tremble in his arms and felt something wet seeping into the top of his shirt. He stroked Dipper’s back gently. “It’s okay… shh… it’s okay…”


    Dipper laid his cheek against Ford’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Ford lifted his sleeve to dry the boy’s tears. Ford ran all six of his fingers through his nephew’s hair soothingly. “It’s going to be alright, Mason. I know your classmates’ behaviour may tell you otherwise, but the biggest supporter of you is yourself.” He kissed the top of Dipper’s head gently. “You’ve always got Mabel too. You’ve always got your twin by your side, which is more than can be said for some people.”


    Dipper nodded, wiping his nose on a tissue. “Yeah, I guess. She’s got so many friends, though. I don’t want to be a burden on her.”


    Ford squeezed Dipper’s hand. “I felt the same way when I was at school. My brother had the potential to have a lot of friends, but he constantly spent his time keeping bullies away from me. He could have been very popular if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was protecting me. But let me tell you something: he wouldn’t change his actions for the world. You can ask him - he doesn’t regret any of it. I’m sure Mabel would be more than happy to spend time with you.”


    Dipper smiled. “Thanks, Grunkle Ford.”


    Ford smiled. He turned Dipper round to face him. “Besides, I’m sure you remember some of those curses from the journals. If people continue to give you trouble, have at it.”


    Dipper laughed and hugged his uncle. “Thanks Grunkle Ford, seriously.”


    Ford hugged him back and ruffled his hair. “No problem. Now, what do you say we got and get some ice cream from the parlour down the road?”


    Dipper smiled and got to his feet, pulling Ford up off the bed. “Sure.”

    ——

    Forduary Week 4: Family

    “So someone in a group asked me to tell them why I hate the ocean sunfish so much, and apparently it was ~too mean~ and was deleted. To perpetuate the truth and stand up for ethical journalism, I’m posting it here. [Rated NC-17 for language.] Disclaimer, I care about marine life more than I care about anything else, for real. Except this big dumb idiot. And it’s not like an ~ironic~ thing, I mean it IS hilarious to me and they ARE THE BIGGEST JOKE PLAYED ON EARTH but I seriously fucking hate them. THE MOLA MOLA FISH (OR OCEAN SUNFISH) They are the world’s largest boney fish, weighing up to 5,000 pounds. And since they have very little girth, that just makes them these absolutely giant fucking dinner plates that God must have accidentally dropped while washing dishes one day and shrugged his shoulders at because no one could have imagined this would happen. AND WITH NO PURPOSE. EVERY POUND OF THAT IS A WASTED POUND AND EVERY FOOT OF IT (10 FT BY 14 FT) IS WASTED SPACE. They are so completely useless that scientists even debate about how they move. They have little control other than some minor wiggling. Some say they must just push water out of their mouths for direction (?????). They COULD use their back fin EXCEPT GUESS WHAT IT DOESNT FUCKING GROW. It just continually folds in on itself, so the freaking cells are being made, this piece of floating garbage just doesn’t put them where they need to fucking go. So they don’t have swim bladders. You know, the one thing that every fish has to make sure it doesn’t just sink to the bottom of the ocean when they stop moving and can stay the right side up. This creature. That can barely move to begin with. Can never stop its continuous tour of idiocy across the ocean or it’ll fucking sink. EXCEPT. EXCEPT. When they get stuck on top of the water! Which happens frequently! Because without the whole swim bladder thing, if the ocean pushes over THE THINNEST BUT LARGEST MOST TOPPLE-ABLE FISH ON THE PLANET, shit outta luck! There is no creature on this earth that needs a swim bladder more than this spit in the face of nature, AND YET. Some scientists have speculated that when they do that, they are absorbing energy from the sun because no one fucking knows how they manage to get any real energy to begin with. So they need the sun I guess. But good news, when they end up stuck like that, it gives birds a chance to land on their goddamn island of a body and eat the bugs and parasites out of its skin because it’s basically a slowly migrating cesspool. Pros and cons. "If they are so huge, they must at least be decent predators.” No. No. The most dangerous thing about them is, as you may have guessed, their stupidity. They have caused the death of one person before. Because it jumped onto a boat. On a human. And in 2005 it decided to relive its mighty glory days and do it again, this time landing on a four-year-old boy. Luckily Byron sustained no injuries. Way to go, fish. Great job. They mostly only eat jellyfish because of course they do, they could only eat something that has no brain and a possibility of drifting into their mouths I guess. Everything they do eat has almost zero nutritional value and because it’s so stupidly fucking big, it has to eat a ton of the almost no nutritional value stuff to stay alive. Dumb. See that ridiculous open mouth? (This is actually why this is my favorite picture of one, and I have had it saved to my phone for three years) “Oh no! What could have happened! How could this be!” Do not let that expression fool you, they just don’t have the goddamn ability to close their mouths because their teeth are fused together, and ya know what, it is good it floats around with such a clueless expression on its face, because it is in fact clueless as all fuck. They do SOMETIMES get eaten though. BUT HARDLY. No animal truly uses them as a food source, but instead (which has lead us to said photo) will usually just maim the fuck out of them for kicks. Seals have been seen playing with their fins like frisbees. Probably the most useful thing to ever come from them. “Wow, you raise some good points here, this fish truly is proof that God has abandoned us.” Yes, thank you. “But if they’re so bad at literally everything, why haven’t they gone extinct.” Great question. BECAUSE THIS THING IS SO WORTHLESS IT DOESNT REALIZE IT SHOULD NOT EXIST. IT IS SO UNAWARE OF LITERALLY FUCKING EVERYTHING THAT IT DOESNT REALIZE THAT IT’S DOING MAYBE THE WORST FUCKING JOB OF BEING A FISH, OR DEBATABLY THE WORST JOB OF BEING A CLUSTER OF CELLS THAN ANY OTHER CLUSTER OF CELLS. SO WHAT DOES IT DO? IT LAYS THE MOST EGGS OUT OF EVERYTHING. Besides some bugs, there are some ants and stuff that’ll lay more. IT WILL LAY 300 MILLION EGGS AT ONE TIME. 300,000,000. IT SURVIVES BECAUSE IT WOULD BE STATISTICALLY IMPROBABLE, DARE I SAY IMPOSSIBLE, THAT THERE WOULDNT BE AT LEAST ONE OF THOSE 300,000,000 (that is EACH time they lay eggs) LEFT SURVIVING AT THE END OF THE DAY. And this concludes why I hate the fuck out of this complete failure of evolution, the Ocean Sunfish. If I ever see one, I will throw rocks at it.“ -Scout Burns

    I don’t buy it - Jon isn’t “a northern fool”

    !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
    !!!!! SPOILERS FOR LEAKED EP 6 AHEAD !!!!!
    !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    I just don’t buy it. I still believe that Jon is playing Danielle (btw we are using this name so it won’t show up in the search, not as an insult), going “undercover” as he did with the wildlings, to ensure she helps against the white walkers. Want to know why? Keep reading, but I warn you this got … very, very, very long. 

    Keep reading

    GREY AREA. (M) | 08

    And just like that, your fate was sealed - because Min Yoongi was absolutely going to destroy you. But hell, if you weren’t going to let him, or bask happily in the flames as he did so.

    And sadly, at the time, you didn’t think that your thoughts would become so literal.


    “There are all kinds of addicts. I guess. We all have pain. And we all look for ways to make the pain go away. - Sherman Alexie, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

     Pairing: Yoongi/Reader
     Word Count: 6,867
     Genre/Warnings: Soulmate AU, Angst,
       Chapter Index



    Park Jimin’s arms tangle around the woman you do not recognize. Hands wrapping around her waist, as she is then tugged further into Jimin’s embrace, and when their lips connect, a sudden pain illuminates through your body so brightly it rivals the affects of Min Yoongi’s gaze.

    The pain is like a knife starting at the tip of your heart and slicing through. And it’s not in one quick semi-painless sort of way, either. It’s a slice that is poorly executed, that is off to a rough start. You can almost feel every sharped raggedy edge as it tears your heart in half.

    The luminous effects causes you to move a hand to settle over the place where your heart resides, because witnessing what you are, it’s the only thing that can reassure you that it is, in fact, still in tact. Still beating. Still pulsating blood. Still keeping you alive.

    Keep reading