because guess what i'm doing

Messy study thing with Mobu because I hate studies but I love Mobu…///

angel au

this contains a mess of ships ok

For whatever reason, imagining an AU where Ethan is a fallen angel really makes me happy? Like Ethan waking up cast down from the sky and he has no idea how to live on Earth, but he bumps into Mark n Amy n Ty n Kat and he ends up just following them around and asking questions about everything?

Ethan with fluffy wings and eyes that glow white when he’s angry? Speaking of wings, Ethan hiding behind his wings when he’s embarrassed or using them to flutter up when Tyler calls him short? Plus everyone automatically finds him beautiful at first sight and Mark has used the “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” Line several times because he finds it funny

Angelic Eth not being able to lie? Ever? Which leads to him confessing a lot of things he doesn’t want to, like how he ate the last of the waffles and he doesn’t actually think that hat looks good on Mark and also he’s in love with like everyone on the team, etc.

Plus since it’s really common in mythology for angels to have healing powers? Eth lying in bed with Ty and asking about his kidney, Ty tells him and E just gets really sad and curls up against Ty’s chest? And Ethan is like “you’re okay now” and Tyler doesn’t know what that means but his health has completely improved at his next doctor’s appointment

Or if the first time Eth heals someone is when the rest of the team is super sick and struggling to make videos, Ethan goes to snuggle with them since they’re all sitting in a miserable sick circle on the floor, editing videos. Everyone is immediately like “dude no! We’re gonna get you sick” but Ethan just does it anyways because he’s a cuddle monster and heals them in the process

Bonus if Mark still has red hair when Ethan falls and Eth sees it and get super excited because he wants his hair to look like that! So after a few weeks he finally convinces Mark to take him to the hairstylist but he catches a glimpse of a girl with blue hair and changes his mind? So he comes out of the salon with bright blue hair and angel wings puffed out in happiness, Mark tells him he looks like he’s going to a costume party.

I don’t know why this is specific to this AU but Amy and Kathryn exchanging Eskimo kisses with Ethan? Because they love their blue boy

Plus any time they see a bird in public someone will point to it and say “Look Ethan your mom came back for you”

6

the raven ring: trips through the gangsey’s iphones → henry cheng

There are so many amazing things going on in this menu, you guys.

“American Plate”
*throws some shit on a plate* “This is what Americans eat, right?”
I don’t know what I love more, the single piece of broccoli (well, this is an accurate depiction of the amount of vegetables Americans eat, I guess) or the THREE tortilla chips for eating your “avocado dip.” 

“Of course those two make the perfect decisive end of your meal!”
Awww, okay, that’s cute. Though…it’s “light and shadow vanilla and chocolate,” so I guess Kuroko is the chocolate, not the vanilla?? I’m all confused now.

(I SAVED THE BEST FOR LAST)

“Super Long Range Toast”
“This super long shot can reach its target from the far end of the court (plate). It’s so long, your heartbreak is inevitable!?”

2017 Phan

I like how the phandom has decided that 2017 is the year Dan and Phil will come out, move and get a dog (also possibly get married but like honestly isn’t that supposed to happen in 2022?). And whenever Dan and Phil say they’ll do anything (upload a video, do a joint lveshow etc) we get really excited and we’re like ‘YES, this is IT, guys. They are coming out as a couple. They are anouncing that they got a puppy, they got engaged and that they will soon move. I know it. I just KNOW it. I CAN FEEL IT!’. And then it ends up being just another pleasant, domestic, funny video and we just stand there like ‘wut’ for a bit and then we find a new thing to scream about (eg THEY WERE NOT WEARING ANY PANTS)

I’ve been watching Season 1 of Wander Over Yonder.

And, uh…

I’ve noticed that

Sylvia seems to 

have a thing

for tying up Peepers.

Originally posted by sweetbxby

skyc47su  asked:

Would you happen to know an article or list for the official ages for the mercs? The tf2 wiki currently doesn't show their ages in their bios and I was just curious. I've seen posts around with Scout's age but what about the others? (I've seen some stuff of the mercs such as sniper being 26 years old and spy around 45)

At this point in time, the only actual confirmed age is Scout’s at 27-ish.

Everyone else’s age at this point is just speculation or personal headcanons.  However, if you look, there are some well-thought out guesstimates.

Here’s a Reddit post and a Tumblr post where two separate estimates have been made (Reddit guesses on left, Tumblr on right):

Soldier: 52, give or take 4 years / 51

Demo: 35-ish / over 30

Heavy: 45 / 38-40

Engineer: 54 / 55

Medic: Late 30s to Mid 50s / ???

Sniper: No older than 40 / 30 

Spy: 50s / 50.

Pyro: ???we just don’t know??? / ????

All of these, however, are just guesses, so people are free to come up with their own ideas.  My very general guesstimates are:

Soldier: Low-to-Upper 40s
Demo: 35-ish works for me
Heavy: Mid-40s
Engineer: Low-to-Upper 40s (depends how young he started college-level classes)
Medic: Mid-to-Upper 40s
Sniper: Low-to-Mid 30s
Spy: Low-to-Upper 40s
Pyro: An immortal lightbulb

But, until word of canon speaks, anyone is free to make their own guesstimates because nothing here except Scout’s age is actually official.  So go ahead, headcanon the merc’s ages how you want, and have some fun with that freedom.

Kinda wonder whether what Mary wants is hunting or family, because don’t get me wrong I’m all for both, both is good, and it can work for Sam and Dean and hopefully Cas but I don’t think it’s what Mary actually wants..
I mean, I’ve been buying the ‘kill all the monsters to give sons a normal life’ thing but now I think.. if she really wanted family, she wouldn’t have had the urge to hunt when Dean was a kid and all? Maybe she’s really kidding herself? Or is this also still the messed up cupid/resurrection thing affecting her?

I also wonder if John would’ve been able to/wanted to stop after Azazel’s death if he’d still been alive back then..

What I’d also like them do with this character story is the boys not ‘because mom’-ing everything about her, because that way they can never develop an honest relationship with her. I’d like them to temporarily(!) break with her so she can earn her place in the family by herself and not based on expectations. 

          hello, darkness, my old FRIEND

anonymous asked:

I 100% get what you're saying about lesbians needing a language that they can use and feel comfortable with, but at the same time, I think bi girls do too ya know? And outside of the butch/femme terminology, there aren't really any ways of expressing their "butchness." I guess I just don't know what to do because I'm bisexual and butch seems like such a huge thing that I'm connected with but I'm kinda being told that I don't have access to it?

Idk like I’m not gonna fight on this I just it’s important for lesbians to have specific language for specific experiences. To me my butchness is tied to my lesbianism. Like butch is inherently lesbian because butchness is an identity that comes from the rejection lesbians experience because they both aren’t attracted to men and are attracted to women. Especially for the first one. Like womanhood hurts sometimes but butch feels so right. Like that’s a way for me to reclaim what the cis hetero world says I can’t truly have because I don’t like men. Not liking men makes me less of a women in the cis hetero world. And i want you to have your own terms, that lesbians can’t use. Because I know bi women have unique experiences that need their own descriptions. I’m all here for solidarity but we have to recognize that wlw are not a monolith and they need their own spaces sometimes.

Also I’m not saying lesbians need a language they can be comfortable with. I’m saying lesbians need a lesbian language. We have unique experiences and we need words and culture that describe those experiences.

I just see this effort to take lesbian words and distribute them amongst non-lesbian wlw and it kind of hurts. Some people say all wlw can call themselves lesbians. They say “you can be attracted to men and be a lesbian”. Like, where does that leave lesbians? What language do we have for ourselves after that. It makes me protective of these identities that mean so much to me in a specifically lesbian context. Butch has just meant so much to me as a lesbian specifically that I don’t understand how you can be connected to it without being a lesbian.

fic: for the feeling that i get when you are gone

Steve/Tony | Post-Civil Warย |ย 820 words | Mpreg | Part 1/3 (4???)

Post-CA:CW angsty mpreg because Iโ€™mโ€ฆme.ย The second part will be epistolary.

Tony is supposed to be helping Rhodey when he starts to feel weak.

Rhodey manages to catch the bar and hold them both up, despite everything. โ€œYou okay?โ€

It takes Tony a second to catch his breath and he feels like heโ€™s going to throw up, but he nods. Swallows down the bile. โ€œYeah. Completely fine. You?โ€

Rhodey huffs and Tony extricates himself from his friend. Rhodey doesnโ€™t look as convinced as Tony wouldโ€™ve hoped. โ€œYou need to see a doctor, Tony.โ€

โ€œYouโ€™re the one who needs a doctor. Best in the world. Available to you anytime.โ€ Tony manages to snag a waste basket in time to puke.

โ€œTony.โ€

Keep reading

INTP Problem: Just... FEELINGS

Fe Person: *Thinks INTP dislikes them*

INTP: *Doesn’t dislike them; simply prefers to keep a straight face*

INTP: *Tries to convince Fe Person that they don’t dislike them by using logic*

Fe Person: *Isn’t convinced*

INTP: *Tries to use Fe to communicate better*

INTP: *Ends up sounding fake / forced*

Fe Person: *Is beginning to think that INTP dislikes them more than they originally thought because INTP doesn’t even sound emotionally passionate about the situation*

INTP: *Is logically passionate about the situation because Fe Person should know the truth – that INTP does not, in fact, dislike them*

INTP: *Makes the situation worse by trying to make it better*

INTP:

Originally posted by torri-renee

Whenever I see some misogynistic asshole going on and on about “horrible” feminists, and that if they’d stop being feminist, men would want to date and marry them, I always want to chime in and tell them I’d rather life my life solo then stuck with some asshole who mistakenly thinks I’m lesser because I’m a woman.

2

With Me

Will lingered in the hallway, watching the firelight lick over Hannibal’s arms, his face, the book in his hands. He made no motion, did not go to him and sit beside him on the sofa. He stood, breath held tight, wrestling with himself. He wanted to go sit there, but-

“Will,” Hannibal’s eyes looked up, then flicked towards him, turning his head to find him in the doorway, “come, sit down.”

And he’d been trying so hard to avoid detection, standing down wind and everything. Still, Hannibal had invited him, no point resisting now. He stepped forward gingerly, making his way consciously into the room. Here came the tricky part.

There were many seats to choose from, a sturdy rocking chair, a winged arm chair with its own ottoman, and the sofa, of course. Without looking too deliberate, too tense, without warning Hannibal, he hoped, he measured his steps and sat down next to Hannibal. He sighed with the cushions, making himself lean back in the posture of relaxation and stared into the heart of the fire, unblinking. He felt Hannibal start, pause, felt his eyes skip over the page, onto him, then back, afraid of being noticed for his watching.

“What’re you reading?” Will asked when he was sure Hannibal had read the page fifty times but not taken in a word of it.

Hannibal’s fingers hesitated over the page, trying to read for him. “The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám,” he let the pages fall open towards Will, “In translation, unfortunately. I plan to learn Persian to read it properly.”

“All that for a book of poetry?” Will mused, tilting his head back.

“It is beautiful,” Hannibal explained, “and deserves to be understood in its native tongue.”

Will nodded thoughtfully, “Well, that’s one project for the future.” He winced; they hadn’t discussed the future yet. At all.

“Yes…” Hannibal hesitated, feeling the elephant in the room, “if I find myself with enough time on my hands to-” He silenced abruptly as Will’s arm came down around his shoulders.

Will gulped, feeling like a high schooler on his first date, all stilted movements and anxious energy. Keep calm, relax; it wasn’t as though they weren’t both mature adults who had done this a million times before with other consenting adults. There should be no problem, no awkwardness, and yet… his heart beat in his throat like a bird thrashing at its cage.

Cautiously, Will stroked his thumb against Hannibal’s shoulder, almost to remind himself it was there, real and solid. Hannibal jumped, nearly dropping his book, “Will, your arm-” he fumbled, trying to turn to Will without turning in to Will and finding the proximity made this almost impossible. To look him in the eye he’d have to get closer.

“I’m nearly healed,” Will swallowed, his voice sounding high and foreign, “besides I should be stretching it anyway, so I’m not so sore. So the muscles… heal the… the way they’re supposed to.” He tried not to watch Hannibal, curving into him, pressing against him. He tried to focus on the fire as Hannibal gave in to the position Will had put them in with the softest sigh. It couldn’t be done.

Hannibal turned his head to reply and found his cheek brushing against Will’s shoulder. His eyes closed instantly, his lungs involuntarily inhaling. Will felt his bicep tense with nerves, there was a painful yank at the still closing wound, but he gave no sign of pain, transfixed on Hannibal.

“Physical therapy,” Hannibal returned abruptly, lifting his cheek, voice rough and low, “will be the hardest part of the healing process. It will be… lengthy and very painful for some time.” He licked his lips, trying to open his eyes all the way and failing, “You should still be resting.”

“I can sit here.” Will felt his hand come around Hannibal’s shoulder, palm flat against his arm. His body decided before he did that he wanted Hannibal closer.

“Could we… just… come here,” he mumbled, squeezing Hannibal to him with one long pull.

Hannibal’s last restraints broke. Before Will knew it he felt arms wrapped around him and a face pressed into his collar. Stunned, he put both arms around Hannibal and held him. Hannibal fit into him like a warm, heavy blanket, pressing against him everywhere he felt lonely. Though he’d been alone, he’d never felt lonely… until Hannibal. Only made sense that being with Hannibal could soothe that ache, maybe the only thing that might.

Hannibal’s hands skirted the edges of his bandages, wary of pressing too much, of being too much. Yet, he held tight, squirmed half into Will’s lap, as close as he could possibly get. Will could feel his heart beat, a skittering patter in reckless time, and he was sure Hannibal had no idea Will knew about it. The moment reeked of desperation, and yet… his arm curled tighter around Hannibal. And yet he pressed closer and yearned to feel Hannibal melt against him, melt completely.

Hannibal gave, he shuddered, he kept perfectly silent, but he shook like a leaf. Will held him close and never once thought about letting go. Hannibal gave so beautifully, he pushed and melted and succumbed so perfectly in his arms. This… this was nice. It was actually… really nice, holding Hannibal. He hadn’t expected that.

Will let his head fall against Hannibal’s, let himself breathe in his hair, press skin to skin, rest together like this. He listened to Hannibal breathe and slowly their breaths fell together. He lost track of time and was on the point of sleep when Hannibal murmured something in his ear.

“Whuh?”

“The fire’s all but gone, we should go to bed.”

The words struck a bell and cracked Will’s eyes open. He was still holding onto Hannibal, smushed together in one corner of the couch. “N-No, don’t go,” his voice croaked, groggy. The implications of it didn’t register immediately, too tired to remember to care too little.

Hannibal paused. “I won’t. But wait here, I’ll get some blankets.” His legs hit the floor and he slowly rose, untangling himself from Will’s arms with unfair grace. Will whimpered, freezing where his Hannibal blanket had been. He closed his eyes and curled onto the sofa completely.

Hannibal returned. He knew he returned because he felt warm again, he felt welcome pressure and weight on the sofa, covering him, slipping up beside him and into his waiting arms. Will’s lips lifted, pleased to be embracing Hannibal once again.

“You’ll regret sleeping like this in the morning,” Hannibal muttered into his chest.

“Won’t,” Will grumbled, one hand stroking idly at Hannibal’s back.

“We could sleep on the bed… still together.”

Will heard the request in his pause. His arms tightened, “Too tired. Drag me to bed tomorrow.” And he hunkered down, pulled Hannibal close, and silenced him for the night with a kiss.