but apparently they came out that big

In the winter of 1995, scientists pointed the Hubble Telescope at an area of the sky near the Big Dipper, a spot that was dark and out of the way of light pollution from surrounding stars. The location was apparently empty, and the whole endeavor was risky. What, if anything, was going to show up? Over ten consecutive days, the telescope took close to 150 hours of exposure of that same area. And what came back was nothing short of spectacular: an image of over 1,500 distinct galaxies glimmering in a tiny sliver of the universe. 

Now, let’s take a step back to understand the scale of this image. If you were to take a ballpoint pen and hold it at arm’s length in front of the night sky, focusing on its very tip, that is what the Hubble Telescope captured in its first Deep Field image. In other words, those 3,000 galaxies were seen in just a tiny speck of the universe, approximately one two-millionth of the night sky.

So the next time you stand gazing up at the night sky, take a moment to think about the enormity of what is beyond your vision, out in the dark spaces between the stars.

From the TED-Ed Lesson How small are we in the scale of the universe? - Alex Hofeldt

Animation by Yukai Du

OVERCOME (M)

Originally posted by jeonify


GENRE: noona&youngerboy, smut

BACKGROUND: Jungkook’s first time had left him traumatized of having sex ever again. It had gone so far to the point that a rumor had even spread about him not being able to get hard-ons. You then decide to step in and prove the rumor wrong. What was supposed to be a simple test of theory leads to a night that you weren’t going to forget for the rest of your life.

AUTHORS NOTE: Omg I haven’t written something in so long. I’m so sorry this took me quite a while. This actually started as a drabble but I kind of got too into it and finished it into a full blown story. I’ll be working on the remaining requests sent to me before, soon I promise you guys, I’m just trying to come up with ideas! But I do hope you enjoy this, tell me what you think. 

Jeon, as forever, is a sinful little shit. 

If there are any errors, I am sorry about those! I did proof read but I know I still missed some. 


Your pen hangs off of your lips, fingers tapping lightly against the glass table as you study the boy in front of you. He has his face buried between the pages of his Physics book, eyes scanning through each paragraph in close precision, oblvious of your scrutiny. You slowly turn your logistics book shut, choosing to ignore your studies as the conversation you had with your brother during last night’s party flashes through your mind.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

okay so I know you're chaotic but are you good? or neutral? also have you ever played DnD because I need to know how much you destroyed/what class your character is

hilariously two of my friends had a whole discussion about that about me and came to the conclusion that I am chaotic chaotic, as for DnD I have only played a few games but the most notable instances were-

1) the Call of Cthulu game where I started out with the highest charisma I ever done had, lost it all when I was transformed into a lizard creature but ‘won’ the game by eating my entire party

2) the time I was a really shitty wizard but defeated a Big Bad wizard by convincing him to get into a ‘magical box’- an ordinary self locking chest- which I kicked into a river (apparently the DM didn’t know that one story with Anubis and Osiris). He failed all attempts to escape and the event was thereafter referred to as ‘The Reverse Houdini’

3) the time I was a rogue and managed to seduce a dragon

anonymous asked:

What is special about the 24th ward? Sorry I have shit memory

NP! it’s an underground ward dug out by the “old ghouls” of Tokyo. There isn’t much known about it, other than the fact that it’s very large and labyrinthine, and has an extremely high concentration of ghouls (which means more cannibalism). 

Eto was raised there by Noroi, and it’s where the first OEK apparently came from. Arima has used “an emergency in the 24th ward” once or twice to duck out of missions like the Aogiri raid. Apparently there’s an entrance through V14… 

It’s been a bit of a looming presence in the manga for a while– something big is going to happen down there, I think :|

The First Time

The first time James saw her, she was frowning. Stood by the Hogwarts Express, with her her fiery red hair plaited haphazardly into two braids, she appeared to be arguing with a blonde girl who he guessed must be her sister. He watched as the aforementioned blonde- who was wearing a particularly sour expression- sneered something at her and stormed off, leaving the red-head’s shoulders to slump as she hugged her parents goodbye. James wondered if her sister was always that stroppy.

The first time she laid eyes on him, he was laughing. Stood outside the compartment she was sat in with Sev, his hair a haphazard mess as he chatted with an aristocratic boy who looked liked he belonged to a rich family. He wore expensive robes and rounded glasses like her father did, but that didn’t fool her; she knew by their smirks that they were troublemakers- boys her mother warned her to stay away from- and Lily hoped they wouldn’t sit in her compartment.

The first time they scowled at each other, she was filled with pride as the hat called GRYFFINDOR! and he watched her hurry over to the table he was sat at. He wondered if she’d come and sit by him, but from the way her nose wrinkled as their eyes met, he figured she probably wouldn’t. Strange, he thought, as she glared up at him from the table. No one had ever disliked him before. He glared back anyway.

The first time they smiled at each other, they had just stopped Mulciber from hexing a Hufflepuff boy in their Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Who knew two first years could pull off a Twitchy-ears hex on a third year? As he ran off, red-faced and clutching his ears, they couldn’t help but share a smile. They knew payback would most likely be coming, but they couldn’t help a small moment of victory.

The first time they argued with each other, it happened in the middle of the Gryffindor common room, and had something to do with Severus. No one really understood what had happened over the spitting of insults between the pair, but they couldn’t understand how James Potter wasn’t afraid of the furious red-head, (though he was secretly marvelling at the pretty girl who was surprisingly as sharp-tongued as Sirius). When wands were drawn, it was Remus who split it up.

The first time they laughed with each other was in third year. After two years of rivalry, it came as a shock to the whole of Gryffindor when Lily Evans and James Potter both burst out laughing at an apparently ‘hilarious’ expression Sirius Black was wearing. The disgruntled victim thought they’d been hit by a cheering charm, which only made the pair laugh harder. They went back to their feud the very next day.

The first time they were partnered up together was in potions class. She decided he was a ‘big-headed idiot’ as they bickered over which ingredients to put in the potion, and he refused to let her stir. He concluded she was a ‘right know-all’, but he couldn’t deny he liked her sarcastic streak- not that he’d ever tell her that.  A row ensued when their potion exploded all over their desk, and Slughorn decided he wouldn’t pair them up again.

The first time he asked her out had been in fourth year. It had sort of- somehow- slipped out mid-argument, and after surprise had flashed in her eyes she’d replied ‘never in your wildest dreams’. To cover up his disappointment, James had made it a running joke from then on, though his pride had been hurt for at least a month.

The first time they pranked someone together, their victim was Bellatrix. It had to be- it was, of course, her last day, and she definitely deserved it. The bucket of maple syrup and feathers had been James’s idea, but the finishing touch of the Tarantallegra charm had been Lily’s. James had stated she’d done a “Good job, Evans”, rather begrudgingly. She’d held back a grin.

The first time they snuck out together, it was to collect chocolates for Remus on his birthday, in fifth year. Lily had once stated she’d “never go under Potter’s invisibility cloak”, which he happily reminded her of multiple times on the journey. They may or may not have eaten some of the chocolate on the way back, but Remus didn’t mind. In fact, Lily had never seen him happier.

The first time they cried together was the sixth year, just before they left for Christmas, when James’s father had passed away. She’d found him by the fire and sat with him until morning, both pretending they weren’t scared of this war as they clutched hands. Lily visited him for the first time that holiday, with a bouquet of flowers for his mum.

The first time they got drunk together they played exploding snap in Lily’s dorm until three a.m. The game ended when Sirius and Marlene started making out a little too ferociously, and Peter passed out on the floor, snoring. Remus and James helped carry him back to their dorm and Lily went to bed with her heart beating quickly and a smile on her face.

The first time they went on a date, it wasn’t planned. Well, not by them at least. Their friends abandoned them, leaving them red-cheeked when they cottoned on. They’d gone to the Three broomsticks anyway, and laughed until they cried over a pitcher of butterbeer. James couldn’t help but feel he was falling completely, and Lily decided that maybe her heart had thawed a little for the boy she once loathed. Their friends wore smug looks for a fortnight afterwards.

The first time they kissed, it was Lily who initiated it, surprisingly. They’d been skipping around each other for weeks, and she finally had the guts to do it at a celebratory quidditch party when she was (more than a little bit) tipsy, and decided she had nothing to lose. It was sloppy and haphazard, but Lily thought her insides might explode. James wouldn’t stop grinning.

The first time he told her he loved her, they were seventeen. She was sprawled on the grass, a book in her hand and her hair fanning out behind her. He’d known it for a long time, he realised, looking at the concentration on her face. It seemed to slip off his tongue so easily that he didn’t even realise it had been said. Lily whispered it back as she entwined her hands around his neck and their lips connected.

The first time they had sex it was awkward and embarrassing, but pleasant at the same time. It wasn’t anything like they’d seen in muggle movies; there was giggling, (mostly on Lily’s part, much to the annoyance of James), and low murmurs of encouragement, but by the time they were done both were smiling. The second time was much, much better.

The first time they saw their baby, they were twenty years old. Lily never thought she could love someone as much as she loved James, but oh, how wrong she was. As they held their son between them, she never thought she could love anything quite as much as her two boys, with their messy dark hair and beautiful hearts. She thought her own heart might explode with the strength of her love.

The last time they saw each other she was cradling their little baby in her arms. And, as the wand was pointed at his face, no one could know how James wished he’d turned to look at her just one last time before she’d left the room- even though he didn’t really need to. As his eyes closed, a picture of her was burned into his mind, as bright as the sun.

Until they saw each other again.

Mismatched

I have heterochromia.

My mom has it too, only hers is sectoral heterochromia. A part of her left eye is brown while most of it is blue. Mine’s complete. My right eye is brown, the left is blue. As a kid I’d get the most excited reaction out of the adults-

“His eyes are so beautiful!”

“Wow, they’re different colors!”

“How stunning!”

I’d like to say that my eyes are only one part of myself, that it’s just a slice of the pie that makes up me. But really, the only fascinating part of myself is the heterochromia. I’m average in grades. Height. Strength. IQ. Not much stunning charisma either- I tend to stick to myself.

But in the end, it’s my eyes that saved my life. And maybe the lives of a few others.

The killings started my sophomore year. A young couple going out to smooch in their car was found dead, mangled by some wild beast. Their faces had been eaten off, their tongues ripped out, and their eyes completely gone.

I didn’t know them, they went to the private school. All the same, the stories started up about the Gosbecks Knoll Beast.

Keep reading

A voice said: One. One. One, two. One, two. Then the footsteps went back into the distance. After a while, another voice said: One, two, three, four- And the universe came into being. It was wrong to call it a big bang. That would just be noise, and all that noise could create is more noise and a cosmos full of random particles. Matter exploded into being, apparently as chaos, but in fact as a chord. The ultimate power chord. Everything, all together, streaming out in one huge rush that contained within itself, like reverse fossils, everything that it was going to be. And, zigzagging through the expanding cloud, alive, that first wild live music. This had shape. It had spin. It had rhythm. It had a beat, and you could dance to it. Everything did.
—  Terry Pratchett - Soul Music
The Tunnels

(Based on something that actually exists at my old school.)

The Tunnels (1/?)

The Tunnels were built back during the height of the Cold War. They wound beneath a good portion of campus and the football field. Most of the entrances had been blocked off, due to “safety concerns”. The majority of students assumed that meant the Tunnels were not kept up and in danger of collapse.

But Cor had iron in both ears (to keep the whispers from overwhelming), and on her fingers (to keep her writing her own), and a small stud through her tongue (to allow her to speak the truth). Going into journalism, she always knew how perilous it could be. She simply assumed it would get bad once she went overseas to war zones, not while she worked on her major. (Nothing can prepare you for Them trying to distort your stories.)

She considered Them to be the greatest of contradictions. They had to live in truths, lies were against Their very nature, and They reveled in forcing humans to live by the same, and yet They hated that requirement of Their existence. They would twist and turn words, use them like weapons or spiderwebs, keep them just this side of truth while being utter falsehoods, everything the wrong way round. And the journalism majors… well, They would prefer the “speakers of truth” told it from a bent perspective.

That was not to say that Cor, or any of those who shared her major, were able to write completely unbiased. But Cor tried.

(It was why she had picked her second name. Cordelia, daughter of King Lear. When the king had been intent on dividing his kingdom, he had asked his daughters to prove who loved him best. Her sisters had flattered and lied and exaggerated, while Cordelia had spoken only the simple truth: “I love your majesty according to my bond; nor more nor less… You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I return those duties back as are right fit, obey you, love you, and most honor you.” If Cor had remembered the consequences of that, instead of merely taking pride in the princess’ honesty, perhaps things would have been different. Then again, perhaps not.)

And the Tunnels were fascinating.

The truth (because it is important) is that she did not plan to go. (You may not know exactly what there is Underhill, but you can guess. The quiet stories about the chemistry department stealing back a professor give everyone who hears them goosebumps. You do not go Underhill without a clear purpose, or at all if possible.)

It was another member of the department. A freshman (Isn’t it always?) who had heard enough about the Tunnels to be curious, but not to be cautious. He was 18 years of age, and he went by the name Youngest. (The last kid in his family, he explained once. What Cor would find out later was that that also made him the fifth son of a fifth son, stretching back five generations. If she’d known then, she would have refused to go. He may have been born for quests and breaking curses, but she wasn’t.)

He had been trying to study up on the history of the Tunnels and found the records in the campus library archives lacking. The Tunnels had been mentioned in the university paper when they were being voted on, and when they announced the construction start date.  There were no blueprints and no financial records. There were no minutes from the council meeting that decided to go forward with the building plans. There was no list of provisions to be kept in the tunnels, nor even a list of where to enter them.

And Youngest wouldn’t accept that. Cor wasn’t the first to try to talk him out of his obsession. (It didn’t help that he was a low-key conspiracy theorist. And not in a useful, fairy tales and old stories way. No, he was all about secret government bunkers and drugs in the water supply and money being stolen from institutions like Elsewhere U for illegal testing facilities.) He refused to listen. He started asking indelicate questions of the librarians and the campus administration, and he apparently had enough luck on his side to keep him from asking just the wrong person.

In the end, the big break came from a boy he was dating, a theatre major. Prior had been drunk, the two had gone back to Youngest’s room for the night, planning to fall into bed after a party and sleep off the booze. Youngest had brought it up, and Prior muttered something about an entrance in one of the costume closets at the main theatre on campus. When he woke up the next morning and realized what he’d said, he tried to take it back, to convince Youngest that he had been drunk and didn’t know what he was saying.

Youngest didn’t listen.

Youngest grabbed his phone for video and audio, and a pen and notepad in case something happened to his phone, and a flashlight and a bottle of water. He kissed Prior, was effusive in his thanks, and then walked away.

Prior panicked and called Cor.

And Cor, she was so damn tempted to let the stupid, oblivious moron just go. Unfortunately, her conscience was apparently stronger than her sense of self preservation.

She caught Youngest as he was putting aside a pair of bolt cutters he’d grabbed from a props room, and yanking off the old iron padlock holding the small door shut. He pushed open the entrance as she grabbed his arm to yank him back, and in a rush they were both somewhere new.

Cor quickly stood and checked her fanny pack. (It looked stupid. Cor didn’t care.) Creamer cups and seeds and campus-made oat bars soaked and crystalized in honey were held in a plastic ziplock baggie. Her little velvet drawbag of possibilities was net to it. Cor had collected the bits and bobs while scouring thrift shops and yard sales for unused baby shoes and abandoned love letters and half-finished quilts. (She cut them into small pieces, recognizing potential power, and kept them close.) Packets of salt and ground vervain tucked in another pocket. Then she shook her leg and heard the little jingle of her anklet. (It was silver, with four tiny shards of crystal, and it had been a gift to Cor’s great great great grandmother from her sister. It was a promise, a last resort, a nuclear button. Cor didn’t want to use it, because she knew the consequence. But if there was no other way…)

Then she took in the tunnel. It was dark before and dark behind, roughly hewn, strange shaped rocks pressed into dirt made up the surface, with two torches lit and glowing brightly on the wall to either side of them. If there had been a door, it wasn’t there anymore.

And when Youngest finally pulled himself upright, staring around in disbelief, Cor gave up being nice and smacked him on the back of the head. “Why do freshmen never listen?

1/?

-

Mention of the chemistry department revolt is borrowed from “Feathers” by runwildwithme on tumblr. It was just too good a noodle incident to pass up on referencing. ((Additionally, I don’t have a tumblr, but if anyone wants to follow this story for updates, I’m planning to post it on ao3. Author name is TornThorn.))


I love Cor (And if you want to send me a link to the A03 story I’ll post it!)

One note - the Chemistry Department revolt actually comes from this earlier ask from dragon-saint! It gives a bit more detail, although still not much.

anonymous asked:

12 damian and kori non shippy

12. things you said when you thought i was asleep

~~

Today was miserable. He’d fought with his father, again. He’d fought with Grayson. With Drake and Todd and Brown, and god, even Gordon

And then he got overwhelmed and fled. Ran away to Titans Tower in San Francisco. 

(No one came after him.)

He hadn’t spoken to anyone when he arrived. Stormed past his team, went up to his room and flopped onto the bed. Watched the sun set over the bay from the large window. 

So it was dark when he heard his door slide open. He didn’t move to look, mostly out of habit. Pretended to be asleep, but listened for footsteps to figure out who it was, and how big the threat was. Prepared to defend himself.

But then his mattress dipped, and skinny, warm fingers in his hair.

“…Dick called. He’s worried sick about you. Apparently they all are.” Starfire whispered. Damian still didn’t move, but not out of fear. Comfort more, and it always confused him how much comfort he found in the older woman. “…They love you, Damian. And it…hurts. How much you don’t know that.”

Tenderly, she pet his hair.

“I love you too, but you don’t need to know that, little one.” She chuckled lightly. “I always thought you look like what Dick and I’s child would if we ever…” 

She trailed off, and ended in a sigh. Suddenly she stood, her fingers disappeared, and a second later, a blanket was being draped across his shoulders.

“But I know how you feel right now, and I’ll keep them away from you for as long as you want them to be. I promise.” She hummed. Without warning, she was pressing a kiss to his head, and Damian almost blew his cover. “Sleep well, Damian.”

The door shut behind her. And for once, Damian did.

Light of All Lights - A Fairy Tale in Five Parts (1/5)

Notes: This fic would not nearly be what it is without @caprelloidea​‘s handholding, encouragement and keen eye. She’s the best, I think you all agree. Based on a picset posted by @bleebug, encouraged by @its-imperator-furiosa​‘s enthusiasm for the idea, and written with @queen-mabs-revenge​ in mind. There is nothing explicitly dominate/submissive about this, but there are borrowed elements of that dynamic.

Summary: When his ship crashes onto a secluded island after a storm Killian “Deckhand Hook” Jones finds himself the unlikely companion to the dark “goddess” who inhabits it. A fairy tale in three parts. 

Rating: Explicit for whoa smut in the later chapters. Some mild violence.

Word Count: 15K+

ON AO3

______

Thunder cracked in the sky above, the entire ship tremoring and shuddering with the force, and not a blink later purple silver lighting flared brilliant white in the crew quarters. The storm was upon them.

Starkey crowed as Hook threw up an arm, his hammock swinging violently, almost pitching him to the deck, the flinch happening before he could check himself.

“Oh no not the raaain,” came a high pitched mocking voice from somewhere in the black darkness of the cabin. Probably Evans. Loud raucous laughter followed, but Hook ignored it, their mocking jeers the least of his concerns as the thunder boomed again, the ship pitching with the force of another wave.

Hook squeezed his eyes tighter, his hand clenched at his side to still the shaking.

It wasn’t that he was scared of storms persay, but bumpy seas always meant no lanterns could be lit, all fires must be extinguished, and the crew quarters were pitch black save for the flashing lighting in the portholes. It wasn’t that he was scared of the dark either, but he definitely preferred the light. He was also quite sure they were all going to die, and like most things in his life, he was terribly afraid of death.

“‘Maybe ‘e’s worried ‘is hook will rust,” came another voice. “Then how’ll he lay about scratching his arse the useless twat?” The laughs came again, the pounding rain at least drowning them out a tad. Thunder cracked once more, and in unison the men all shrieked in mock terror.

“Not me hair!” Came a cry.

“B-b-b-bloody hell,” came another. They laughed again. It was an old game, the same old insults, the same mocking jeers.

Hook continued to ignore them, a decade and then some of practice helping him along, focusing on his breath, on maintaining his place in the swinging hammock as the ship rocked and swayed beneath him. If he fell on his face in front of them again, it would only make it worse.

Keep reading

It had been going on for a while. Rival papers, rival journalists. Clarke would get the tip, Lexa would arrive first at the scene – or vice versa. She rather liked it when it was her getting the story first, but her victories were just as frequent as Lexa’s.

There had to be a traitor in her office – there was one in Lexa’s after all, with Niylah feeding Clarke scoop after scoop just as soon as Lexa got word of them. Was Lexa flirting with one of her co-workers too? The thought was… oddly unpleasant.

Of course, there were the times when their rivalry, known (and barely put up with) by all, took a slight… detour and things between them would heat up in a very different way than usual.

Even though she would never admit it to anyone, those were the times Clarke revelled the most. Those were the times that made losing a few first hand stories almost worth it. Lexa didn’t need to know that, though.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

The voice, softer than her own, pulled the corners of Clarke’s lips up into a smile. She lay her chin on the chest underneath her, blue eyes playfully meeting green ones.

“Thank God none of our friends know about this,” she admitted, placing a soft kiss between Lexa’s breasts. “Raven and Octavia would tease me endlessly.”

To Clarke’s surprise, Lexa didn’t smirk; she frowned. “You haven’t told your friends about us?”

Clarke laughed and got off of Lexa, opting to lie down beside her. “What, like you have?” The deepening crease between those striking jade eyes was answer enough and she didn’t know how to react. “There is no us, Lexa.”

Suddenly Lexa was up, throwing covers off her lithe body and searching for her clothes among the jungle of Clarke’s bedroom floor. Clarke, in turn, was utterly confused, taken aback by Lexa’s sullen behaviour.

“Where are you going?”

“What does it look like, Clarke?” Lexa snapped as she pulled pants up to her waist. “I’m going home.”

“Why? We were just relaxing, I don't– what the hell is wrong with you?”

Lexa finished buttoning her shirt and heaved an exasperated sigh, turning to Clarke with a cold gaze.

“I get it, Clarke. We are rivals, we steal each other’s stories, and then we fuck to keep the adrenaline pumping.” Lexa’s voice was as gelid and stoic as her eyes. “It’s just curious that you still see it as that when we have been staying the night for over three months.”

Feeling exposed all of a sudden, Clarke sat up and pulled the blankets up to cover her chest. “We agreed that it was easier if you caught the morning train to your place,” she said defensively.

“I’ve got a drawer in your wardrobe, Clarke!”

“Not my fault you leave your clothes here all the time,” the blonde shrugged.

Lexa’s eye roll was worthy of some Olympic back flip medal or something. Were there Olympic medals for back flips? Clarke didn’t really know a lot about sports.

“You call me aloof and emotionally constipated, but I am not the one who keeps believing those easy ways out after three months of mornings after,” Lexa claimed, a hue of hurt in the rainbow of feelings in her voice.

Clarke was at a loss for words, so she said the first thing that came to mind. “We fuck. What’s the big deal about that?”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, for Lexa just turned away with a huff and walked out, making sure to slam the door as she left.

*

They hadn’t talked for a month. Lexa had been keeping her distance: not coming any close to her stories, leaving Clarke alone to make the most of her own scoops. It would have been paradise, if not for the gaping absence of teasing remarks, insufferable smirks – any words at all. Clarke kept trying to steal some scoops for herself, but Lexa was relentless, never letting Clarke win.

In a fell swoop, Clarke had lost her fuck buddy and her rival. Every time she got to a place, Lexa would either be long gone or never show up at all. Journalism just wasn’t as fun anymore.

Clarke had loved the whole enemies/lovers dynamic, sleeping with none other than your greatest rival. After every hustle, they would fall into bed together, releasing their frustration and satiating their rivalry in each other’s arms, mouths, fingers. It was something Clarke had never experienced before.

Clarke was snatched out of her thoughts by a binder falling violently on her desk. She looked up to find Octavia glaring at her.

“What now, O?” Clarke asked impatiently. “Too much paperwork for your lazy ass?”

“Wow, Lexa really left your panties in a twist,” her brunette friend chuckled dryly. “Can you two please go back to fucking?”

Clark’s bewildered gasp and choke would have been funny if not for the situation they were in. “You know? she choked out in a spluttering mess.

“Of course I do,” Octavia frowned. “We all know Lexa lets you get half of her stories and then you two go home and fuck each other’s brains out. Or, well, did. Now you two just mope around like you lost your favourite candy.”

The knowledge that Lexa was doing just as bad as her gave Clarke an odd hopeful feeling. “She’s moping?”

“Of course she is. How would you expect her to react to a break up?”

“This was not– We weren’t even together.”

This time, Octavia laughed heartily, taking more than a minute to gather her bearings and turn to Clarke with a mocking expression.

“Sweetie, like or not, you two were dating for the past three months. You don’t do the morning after with someone you don’t care about.”

There it was again, the morning after. Clarke didn’t understand what relevance it had to the case. “I still don’t know why the morning after seems to be so important,” she grumbled.

Octavia just shook her head in disbelief. “You may be blonde, but you’re not blonde, Clarke. Don’t lie to yourself just because you’re afraid to face the truth.”

*

Clarke was determined to get this right. This story was Lexa’s, Niylah had promised, and she was going to get there fast enough to catch the brunette before she could leave.

She would also steal the story, but that was another story. Pun fully intended, Clarke decided in that moment.

When Lexa showed up, she was the image of beauty. Long brown curls tamed in a ponytail, her face was clean and open and probably what heaven looked like. Emerald eyes didn’t hide their owner’s shock to see her.

“Clarke,” Lexa half breathed, half gasped, eyes wide and lips parted.

Clarke had to remember the speech she had practiced at home, in front of her mirror, like a romantic loser.

“Lexa, I– Can we talk?”

Lexa eyed her suspiciously, but eventually agreed, with a discreet nod of her head. They headed to another room, making the interviewee wait for its five minutes in the limelight.

“What do you want, Clarke?” The hostility of Lexa’s tone made her flinch. She had a lot of explaining to do. “I will not go back to the way we were before.”

“I know, I know,” Clarke rushed to say, promising her memories of Lexa writhing under her that she would give them full her attention once she got home. “I don’t want that either.” At Lexa’s frown, she ploughed on. “I don’t want to go back to the way we were before, because I want so much more. I thought what we had was just an easy rivals with benefits situation. We would do the rivalling during the day, fuck during the night. You kept clothes at my place so no one would ever see you leave with the clothes of the day before on. In the middle of all the lying I did to keep myself from panicking, I forgot to realise that you started staying the night because I asked you to. And it went on for three months because I wanted you to. And I would ask and want you to stay the night because I needed to fall asleep and wake up next to you, because there is no greater feeling in the world than that of spending every hour of your day with the person you love.”

Lexa’s eyes were wide like saucers, but Clarke couldn’t stop now.

“That’s the other thing I forgot,” she admitted, her voice small. “I forgot that slowly but surely, I was falling in love with you.”

Lexa pressed her lips together pensively, letting the silence stretch before she broke it. “Why didn’t you tell your friends?”

“The same reason for all my other fuck ups: I was afraid. Telling them would mean they would be able to give me the advice I was dreading: that all those mornings after did hold meaning after all and that I couldn’t hide from my feelings anymore.”

Lexa nodded this time, still not making a sound. “Will you tell your friends now?”

Clarke couldn’t help but smile. “Already have.”

Another nod. “Are we still rivals?”

“You’re as much my enemy as when we started this whole thing.”

Lexa was sporting a small smile now, a crooked little thing that Clarke had always found adorable. “I would not have it any other way.”

“But Lexa, now you’re also my best friend and… If you give me the honour… My girlfriend.”

Lexa’s shy smile turned into a smirk. “Only if you admit that Polis is the superior newspaper.”

Clarke didn’t even gasp. “For you, I would quit the Arkadia.”

Lexa’s amused smile, however, showed she was just kidding. “No need. Wouldn’t want to end the rivalry, would we?”

In that moment – and the moment after, when she finally got to get reacquainted with Lexa’s lips –, Clarke knew that she wanted all the mornings after and the nights during and the afternoons before.

She wanted everything with Lexa.

okay but y'all I literally had the scariest dream while I was napping,, I was at school and apparently me and other girls from my school were forced to all of the sudden sing cheetah girls - girl power in front of the WHOLE ENTIRE SCHOOL…. they only gave us 1 hour to rehearse and come up with w/ a choreography so I got super scared was like “I can’t do this” and went home, then my dad called me and said “the school is mad at you for walking out like that” and I was like okay….. so this big ass coach bus came to my house to pick me up and fucking Betsy devos was the BUS DRIVER so I was driven back to school via coach bus and I was just so fucking scared I really didn’t wanna sing cheetah girls in front of everyone 😩😩😩 I kept on going on Google to look up the lyrics bc I couldn’t even remember the first line. the worst part about this is that IT FELT SO REAL….. like……. I woke up so stressed…..

When my son came home from college, he was… different. He’d been making use of the campus gym, that much was immediately apparent. The last I’d seen him, he was just your typical, gangly 18-year-old. Now he looked built, practically bursting out of his college t-shirt. I wondered how it was even possible for someone to pack on that much muscle in such a short amount of time..

That wasn’t the only thing that was different about him, though… Along with those big new muscles came a sense of confidence that I had never seen from him before. The way he carried himself, his head held high, his chest jutting out from his chest.. The big, lumbering steps he took around his childhood bedroom…

And then there was the fact that he couldn’t stop talking about this guy he called Coach. Coach says this, and Coach says that. Coach wouldn’t like the meal I made for dinner, too many carbs. Can’t hang out right now, I need to go update Coach on my progress…

Something about it just didn’t seem right to me… So I finally asked my son if I could talk to this Coach guy myself… Next thing I know, I was on the phone with him… listening to his voice… so deep and so relaxing… He assured me that he was only trying to help my son grow… become bigger, stronger… better… And he could do the same thing for me, too, if I wanted… All I had to do was obey his every word…

“Yes, Coach…” I heard myself saying to him… “I am ready to obey…”

Episode 91, part 1: SIDE QUEST TO TRAUMA BOAT

So here’s where we get, over less than five minutes, Mai’s entire backstory and the strengths and weaknesses of her entire character. It’s being its own separate post because there are a lot of Thoughts and Feelings and I ended up screencapping like almost every single sentence she said during her relatively-brief flashback. 

Mai grows up in an absolutely slamming pad

10/10 would stage tragic anime backstory here

Because yes, much like EVERY OTHER FUCKING CHARACTER IN THE ENTIRE FUCKING SHOW, Mai is #spoileralert an orphan.

bby </3

UNLIKE many other characters, apparently no one even fucking noticed tho. 

WHAT

WHO ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN???

SHE’S FUCKING EIGHT YEARS OLD OR SOME SHIT, GODDAMMIT, I FUCKING KNOW ORPHANAGES EXIST IN THIS GODDAMN WORLD OF YOURS, YU-GI-OH BECAUSE THEY COME UP IN A BIG WAY IN THE KAIBA BROS BACKSTORY

[I came up with some AUs based on this moment of rage that I typed here but then realised this post was already getting really long so I moved them out into their own post!]

jfc even on the scale of Anime Parents Syndrome, seriously, I’m pretty sure in the dub her parents are just, like, fuckin busy and kinda not very engaged, which in an unusual move for the dub, actually makes way MORE sense

ANYWAY

She runs away and joins a cruise-ship!

This is the first thing she says. It wasn’t that she was alone, she’s chaotically surrounded by people. It’s that she didn’t like them, they weren’t good people. Mai sometimes come across as a little amoral and mercenary, but deep down, she’s a good person and she couldn’t make friends with people who were after nothing but cheap thrills and more money. 

I also think it’s interesting she says this right as it pans over one of the other employees: the sexy-bunny (sidebar WHY is that a thing???? rabbits aren’t sexyyyy) waitress. I wonder why she didn’t make friends with the waitresses? Maybe they weren’t particularly nice either, or maybe they saw Mai as a spoilt rich girl with not much in the way of social skills.  

I don’t think she’s slut-shaming the waitress by including her with the “terrible people”. The timing of the shot may actually indicate that Mai includes “people who enforce seXXXy dress codes on underpaid cruise ship waitresses” under “terrible people”. Mai is uncharacteristically covered up on the cruise ship; she’s wearing a long sleeve, high collared shirt that isn’t even particularly tight. I’m stretching here, but I wonder if Mai deliberately forsook her own preferred highly-feminine revealing style of clothes in this environment? She hates these arrogant men who think they can buy access to women’s bodies, she point-blank refuses their propositions and she doesn’t even give them the satisfaction of seeing her in her off-duty tight tops and short skirts. 

She’s unhappy here, but she stays.

She doesn’t name it and I wonder if it’s because she can’t name it. She didn’t really know what it was she was looking for, she just knew something was missing. She felt empty.

And apparently this high-rolling cruise ship casino for ADULTS who are GROWN UP goes in hard for fucking brand-new trading card games…

She talks about the Harpies as though they’re her friends, not just cards. This is not unusual for YGO [coughYugicoiugh] at all [coughJounouchikissedhisRedEyescough] god help us [cougheverythingKaibahaseversaidaboutdragonscough] at all but it does speak to the fact that she didn’t have real friends to compare them to.

But they were more than friends, they became her role models…

They used weapons and armour, she says. She ignores the fact that they also call upon each other and fight as a team. She doesn’t have that option for making herself stronger so she focuses on what she can use, and says “I lived a similar life”.

Alternative clothes!headcanon; she has been dressing conservatively this whole time, that’s why she’s covered up on the cruise ship. But when she sees the Harpies, she decides to empower herself with “weapons and armour” like theirs and starts dressing in corsets and leather jackets, clothes that mimic their armour and give her a feeling of control and power: she chooses her own clothes and she knows she turns heads and distracts men when she’s flaunting herself.

I would be interested to know what the actual Japanese is here. It’s an interesting distinction. She’s saying she internalised this way of living and convinced herself and everyone else of it. She was screaming it - loud and sure, but also distressed. From her soul, so it’s really deeply-felt for her. But inside her heart, even deeper, she was still really unhappy and she felt alone.

She speaks of meeting the nerds like a destined event.

And specifically pulls out Jounouchi, even though early on, they didn’t share more of a bond than she did with Yugi/Yami or with Anzu. I think her fondness for Jounouchi grew and now that she’s looking back, now that she knows he’s particularly special to her, she’s seeing her memories in that light. She didn’t know at the time but now she does.

#thisguy

I think it’s sweet that the moment she chooses to remember is Jounouchi telling some overblown (possibly even false) story. She really like his sense of humour and his larger-than-life personality and this, more than the more obviously Friendship moments, is what she thinks about when she thinks of him.

Although she’s focusing on Jounouchi, she keeps saying “friends”, she’s thinking of the others too.

Personally, I think this section would be better if she was more explicit about that. The writers obviously wanted to focus on the shipping aspect so singled him out, but her relationships with Yami and Anzu especially are also really fun and interesting. I don’t polarship, so I’m biased, but I genuinely think her arc is more interesting as a Learns To Have Friends arc rather than a Will They Won’t They.

Either way

T___________T

But it’s so much more than “lonely”. It’s not like “I’d like someone to talk to”, it’s a deep and hungry emptiness that she’s only halfway through recovering from, just enough that she can guess at the light at the end of the tunnel. She’s much more used to the dark and crushing loneliness than she is to anything else and it’s taking her a long time to take little steps towards something better, Yami Malik swoops in to casually and easily start kicking down her painstakingly half-built sandcastle.

YEAH NO FUCKIN SHIT

“Seb!! Seb you gotta see this!”

“What, Y/N” He comes over to you as you turn your computer screen so he can see. “What the hell is this?!” He exclaims. Meanwhile, you’re laughing you ass off at how silly it is. “My face doesn’t look like that!”

“Yes, it does! Oh my word, this is perfect!” You grabbed your computer and opened up Facebook.

“Woahohoho…what are you doing?” Seb reached for your computer, but you pulled it out of his reach, “Seb, this is too good, wh-” Seb bolted grabbed the computer from your hands and tackled you to the couch. You laughed as he dug his fingers into your sides.

“S-Seb, Sebby!! I-I c-can’t breathe!” Tears spilled from your eyes as he locked your arms to your sides with his legs, peppering your face with kisses. Running his hands over your sides. “P-Please! I’ll do a-anything!” He stopped and rested his forehead on yours, a goofy grin on his face.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” you replied as you got your breath back, “you had to admit though, it was pretty cute.”

“I was a pigeon, a fucking pigeon. How is that cute?” You grabbed his pouting face with your hands, “Because you make a pigeon cute. Now get off me, dinner ain’t going to make itself.” He groaned and mumbled about stupid pigeons while he followed you into the kitchen to help make dinner. Seb was busy cutting the vegetables, so it gave you the perfect opportunity to share this lovely find with a very good friend of yours. He was definitely not going to hear the end of this.

                                                **Bonus ending**

“Hey Chris, hey Anthony! How’d your interviews go yesterday?” You asked the guys as they joined you at the booth while Seb left to grab your drinks.

“Eh, can’t complain. Still, a Dorito apparently, visited the kids and stuff.” Chris explained as he gave you a one armed hug. “Oh? How are they? I heard they’re getting big.” He grins widely, fishing out his phone to show you some photos.

“Yeah, I don’t know what my sis is feeding them, they’re growing up so fast.” The three of you huddled over Chris’s phone giggling like high schoolers until Seb came back with your drinks. You all tried to gain your composer. Anthony cleared his throat to cover the snort that was building up in his throat.

“So…pigeons huh?” Seb looked confused until Chris turned his phone around and the three of you burst out laughing while Seb pouted. “Fuck you guys, this is all your fault.” He pointed at you, but then smiled and joined you guys. He soon got over it, you never let him live this down.


paul lahote | imprinting [2]

paul lahote. 1186 words.

previous part.

a/n: sorry that this is so late, guys! school is a bummer and there isn’t enough time in the day to write. but i hope you enjoy this


When Quil had invited you to hang with him down at the beach, you almost died of shame remembering the events of a few nights prior. The res party had been a complete disaster. Not only had a possessive stranger hit on you but juvenile delinquent Paul Lahote had jumped in to rescue you for a reason that was completely unknown to you. The way he’d acted, you would have thought he was jealous, but that couldn’t have been the case. He’d never said a word to you before – never even looked at you before – so whatever it was had to have been personal between him and that boy. That was the only explanation you could come up with.


“It’ll be just the two of us,” Quil promised. “Come on, (Y/N), we haven’t hung out since—” But he’d stopped himself short. He wasn’t allowed to mention the party, not when you still burned with shame every time you thought about it.


“Fine,” you agreed. “But only for a few hours. I have homework to do.”


And so you found yourself walking along the shore with Quil, hands stuffed in the pockets of your jacket. It was particularly cold that day, even more so than usual. You could feel yourself starting to regret going out, but Quil was chattering so happily to you about a new movie he’d seen with Embry that you decided it was worth it. It didn’t take much to make your best friend happy.


“Also, you want to know something funny?” he asked. “Embry said that Paul Lahote was asking about you.”


You stopped short. You could barely hear the waves rolling onto the shore with how hard you were breathing. If you’d been cold before, it was nothing compared to the ice that seemed to be spreading through your veins.


“He did what?”


Quil snickered. “Well, I know you said I can’t mention the party, but apparently he’s been going around asking people if they knew you. And you can imagine how freaked Embry got when big bad Paul Lahote came up to him after class and questioned him, too.”


Your knees turned to jelly and you were forced to take a seat on a large log of driftwood to keep yourself from falling. Your voice was barely above a whisper. “And what did Embry say?”


“He told him the two of you really didn’t hang out – which is true and Embry is kind of salty about it because he thinks you don’t like him, and I told him that’s bullshit and that you like everyone but he actually thinks you have something against—”


“Not important, Quil!”


Quil grinned. “Right. Sorry. Anyway, I’m pretty sure Paul’s got the hots for you, which is cool but he’s kind of weird. The whole bunch of them are.” His grin faded as he stared behind your shoulder, eventually turning into a full-blown grimace. You glanced back in confusion and paled.


“Speak of the devil,” you muttered.


On the other side of the beach was Sam’s gang. Paul was talking animatedly to Jared and Sam, but then his eyes met yours and he froze in his tracks. He the same look on that he did at the party, like he was in a trance that he couldn’t snap out of on his own. Jared elbowed him and jerked his head in your direction, mouthing something you couldn’t make out.


Paul started running towards you.


Quil tensed like he was getting ready for a fight, but something in your gut told you he could never take Paul. Not like he needed to anyway. Paul wasn’t going to hurt you. He wouldn’t go through the trouble of saving you from the overly flirtatious stranger at the party if he was going to do even more damage.


“(Y/N),” he said when he reached you. A shiver ran down your spine at the way he said your name. “Can I talk to you?”


Quil gave you a pointed look, silently urging you to refuse, but you were far too curious to listen. Your fear of him and his gang was replaced by a foolish eagerness; everything about Paul drew you in.


“Sure,” you replied. “Walk with me.”


You left Quil behind and set off with the tattooed boy. Neither of you spoke for a good few minutes, letting the tension around you grow thicker. What was his deal? Were all boys this confusing?


“Listen, I’m sorry about the party,” he blurted. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that.” But by his tone, you could tell he really didn’t mean it. It didn’t seem in his nature to be sorry.


“Do you have beef with that dude?” you asked. “What’d he do to you?”


Paul stuck his hands in the pockets of his cutoff shorts, the muscles in his abdomen hardening. He was gorgeous, that much was certain. Just being around him made it hard for you to think. You knew you were probably going to end up saying something stupid in front of him – like admitting how pretty he was.


“He didn’t really do anything to me,” Paul said. “It’s you he was bothering, and I guess I just… I just snapped.”


A million questions burned on your tongue, but you held back. Paul didn’t look like he was finished talking and you didn’t want to risk him being cautious.


“I must look like a freak to you, huh?” He laughed forcefully though there was clearly nothing funny. “There’s just something about you that I can’t get over. You’ve been in my head since the party.” Paul wrinkled his nose. “Jeez, that’s so cheesy.”


You smiled warmly and slung your arm around his neck. It was a friendly gesture that took him by surprise – though, really, there was a little more than friendship on your end. Admittedly, you were a little taken aback yourself by how at ease you were around him.


“If you wanted to ask me out, Paul, you could have just said so,” you teased.


He raised an eyebrow. “You’re willing to let me take you on a date?”


“Yeah. Isn’t that what you’ve been hinting at?”


Paul’s gaze was a million miles away, like he was thoroughly confused by your assumption. For a second, you turned cold with worry that maybe you’d misinterpreted his behavior and that he wasn’t actually into you, but then he grinned.


“Sure. Yeah, I’ll take you out.”


You talked for a while longer about where and when he was going to pick you up, and then the two of you headed back to your friends. Jared pulled Paul into a headlock as soon as the boy left your side, and it looked like he was going to be in for one hell of an interrogation. Judging by the looks Quil was giving you, you were in for the same treat.


“What happened?” he whispered as Sam Uley’s gang started to put distance between them and the two of you.


You shook your head in disbelief, a thin smile on your lips. “Apparently, I’ve got more game than I thought.”

2

Oh man I knew someone would ask me this one. :X After thinking about it, this is what I came up with, lol. Craig seems like the type to me to not make a big deal out of it… like just dropping it over breakfast or something.

If it was the other way around, I think Tweek would know that Craig would get really angry/annoyed by a public proposal, so he’d want to do something more private while still trying to make it vaguely romantic, like trying to cook a nice dinner or something… but he picks dishes that are too ambitious and he flubs the meal… Craig eats it anyway because he’ll eat anything… and he has absolutely no idea what’s going on until Tweek pops the question. Then he promptly chokes.

I’m not sure how gay couples usually approach this, engagement rings aren’t typically a thing for guys… I don’t think Craig would bother getting jewelry if he proposed but Tweek might buy Craig a nice watch or something.

Secret Part 2 [Jughead Jones x Reader]

Okay, so I gave in and here’s part two. I know it’s shit, I wrote this on my phone and I still am trying to figure out the app.

I hope you like it, I’m not such a big fan of cheating drama and stuff, but I like the way this ended.

Part 1
Part 3

Summary : Cheryl stops by your locker to tell you to come to the Cheer practice to see by yourself how close Betty and Jughead are.



“They are spending a lot of time together.” Cheryl said, as you closed your locker, making you jump. “What are you talking about?” You asked, but already knew the answer. “I am only saying this, because you were a good friend to Jason.” She sighed, then added “I’ve seen Betty and Jughead together. There is something going on.” You rolled your eyes at her words. “Because they are writing an article together maybe?” You raised your brow. “They’re more intimate than that.” She said, right before Archie appeared. “Hey ladies.” He smiled. “You’re not serious.” You ignored Archie. “Come to the Cheer practice tonight.” She said, and with that left.

You were only going so you could prove Cheryl that there was nothing going on between your boyfriend and your dearest friend. You smiled at Archie and asked him to come with you to the Cheer practice, but didn’t tell him the real reason. You only told him you wanted to see Veronica and Betty. And he bought it. The two of you headed to class talking about today’s assignment for history, which was to do an essay about what if you were a king, or queen, back in the day, and if your counselor, or friend, would’ve betrayed you, due to the fact you have been studying King David for the past days. Your substitute teacher was preaching to a church on Sundays, and he thought that a drop of Religion wouldn’t hurt anyone. Oh boy.


After classes you called your mom saying that you’ll be out with Archie, since Jughead bailed on you saying that he needs to gather info for the article. You and the redhead went to Pop’s to eat something and drink before going to the Cheer practice.

“So, wanna tell me real reason why you want to go?” He asked. 

Apparently, he didn’t buy it.

“Okay, but it’s not a big deal. Cheryl came by my locker to tell me that Jughead and Betty are pretty close, and to come to the Cheer practice to see by myself. I am only going to prove her wrong, and that Jughead loves me.” I smiled. “Uh, I’ve seen it too.” Archie said, making you choke on your milkshake.

You arrived at the Cheer practice, which was being held outside on the field, since the weather was nice and the boys didn’t have practice today, unlike the cheerleaders.

There wasn’t much to see, only a bunch of chicks stretching and jumping and stuff like that. You greeted Veronica and Betty, and told them that you’re here to see them. You felt ashamed to tell them that you didn’t trust Jughead, but after Archie said that he saw them too, you had to see by yourself.

After a while, Cheryl asked you to go to the girl’s locker room and bring her an agenda, that should be somewhere on the benches.

So you went, silently walking in, as there was night and only the cheerleaders were allowed at this hour in the school.

“You know I love you, but I don’t want to hurt Y/N’s feelings.” You heard a familiar voice. It couldn’t be him. “I know, and she is my friend. A close friend, but I feel so guilty for loving you.” You heard another familiar voice. Oh hell no. “I can’t keep up with this secret anymore.”

You tried to get closer to the voice, only to see Betty in Jughead’s arms, him gently rubbing her back and kissing her forehead. You tried to hold back the tears. You really did. You grabbed the agenda and silently left, but breaking into tears outside. You lost him. You lost the best thing that’s ever happened to you to your friend. Your closest friend. They loved each other and you were only in the middle of their happiness.

While you were crying, the door opened, and Betty came out, fastly closing it.

“Y/N? What happened?” She quickly hugged you tight.

You could smell Jughead’s perfume on her and yet you noticed it now. Just now.

You wanted to yell at her for betraying you, but you couldn’t. It wasn’t her fault for falling in love. Love just happens.

“I… I…” You were at loss of words. But you decided to be stupid and do the right thing. “I don’t love Jughead anymore.” You lied. Oh boy you loved him. “I feel so guilty and bad and he deserves someone to love him forever, but I just don’t feel the sparks anymore.” You lied again.


The next day you broke up with Jughead and he didn’t take it that well. He was tearing up, but respected your decision. Maybe he didn’t love you like a girlfriend, but you still remained friends. Not like you used to , as you closed yourself and stopped being the happy and bubbly person you were. You didn’t tell them that you knew their secret, but you did tell Archie. He was always there , alongside with Veronica and told them not to tell Jughead and Betty that you knew.

It had been weeks since your breakup, you started being yourself again, but Jughead and Betty still didn’t go public. You didn’t know or care if they broke up or still needed time. You kind of regretted not yelling at them, but it wouldn’t have helped with nothing. Of course your friendship with Betty kind of died, and only resumed to greetings and a homework here and there. She tried to fix it, but for now you just needed time.

As for Jughead? You were still pals, not that close, but still talked here and there.

You were at peace now.

Well, more or less, they still betrayed you, but you weren’t that type of dramatic person.

Inconvinent│a.i

Originally posted by fivesosgif

Requested: nope

Pairing: Hungover!Y/N x Stranger!Ashton

Series: Paid to be Popular - The Purpose of Love - Bittersweet Generation

Description: “I fell asleep on your couch after a party but you didn’t complain and made breakfast for the both of us” AU (yup that’s it, it’s adorable)

You were sure you were going to puke the minute you woke up. Without hesitating you grabbed the nearest thing to you and let it all out. The smell surrounded you first, before nearing out to every corner of the room. Wait, which room? Where were you? What did you just vomit in?

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