but i will add more eventually

Imagine this:

I have a lot of feelings after the Cursed Child, and they all revolve around Scorpius and Draco Malloy.

Imagine, after the Cursed Child, that it drives Albus mad that his best friend has to spend Christmas with just his father, as the rest of his family is dead.

Imagine him begging his parents to invite the Malfoys to their Christmas celebration “because there’s already so many of us celebrating why shouldn’t we add two more???”

Imagine Ginny channeling her parents and eventually giving in.

Imagine Albus sending a super excited owl to Scorpius telling him that they could spend Christmas together.

Imagine Scorpius being afraid to ask his dad if they could go, but doing it because he really wanted to go.

Imagine Draco hesitating a little and finally agreeing - just because his son was so excited about it.

Imagine the two showing up at the Potter’s house a few days before Christmas as asked and being ushered in with a huge smile by all the extended family of the Weasleys.

Imagine it being weird at first, but after watching Albus and Scorpius interact with each other, everyone begins to relax and accept the two Malfoys.

Imagine them having a great time. Imagine Scorpius and Draco having a good Christmas for the first time in years.

And imagine, further, that this starts happening every year. Without fail, Ginny ensures they’re invited, and they show up and stay for a few nights for the celebration.

Imagine Scorpius looking forward to it each year. And imagine Draco does too - except for the cramped quarters. Because, with so many people in one place, of course everyone would end up sharing rooms. And while sharing a room can have perks, Draco would hate it.

So imagine he gets sick of it after a couple years. And imagine that year, before Ginny can invite the Malfoys over, everyone in their extended family gets a personalized invitation to spend Christmas at the Malfoy manor.

Imagine Albus being thrilled, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione being nervous - because their last memories of the manor aren’t exactly good. But there is undeniably more space there. So they accept.

And imagine everyone in the Weasley family showing up at the door of the manor, incredibly nervous - but finding it all lit up and decorated for Christmas. Draco, also feeling nervous as he, too, remembers their last time in the manor, pulled out all the stops and decorated the house from top to bottom in Christmas decorations.

Imagine dancing, and eating amazing food (prepared not by house elves, of course, but by a combined effort of several people). Imagine merriment and joy - and at the end of the day, people don’t have to squeeze into cramped rooms and sleep on top of each other. The kids share rooms, the adults and couples get their own.

Imagine it being a wonderful time. Imagine it happening year after year - complete with personalized invitation - until the Malfoys are basically a part of the family, and younger children don’t remember a Christmas that wasn’t spent at Malfoy manor.

Imagine Draco and Scorpius looking forward to Christmas each year because they love having everyone over. Even as they get older.

Idk guys I have a lot of feelings about this

*rubs temples* which reminds me.

Someone asked on a post a while ago who Donald’s sister is.

Short crash course if you don’t know anything about Disney Ducks;

She has different names depending on which country’s comics you are reading, but in english her name is usually ‘Della’ while in the Europe she’s generally called ‘Dumbella’. She and Donald are twins.

Della is Huey Dewey and Louis’ mom.

Long story short, she eventually couldn’t cope with the triplets any more after they set off a firecracker under their father’s chair and put him in hospital, so she effectively dumped them on Donald because “I can’t handle them any more. You take them for a while.”

If you think that’s messed up I’ll also add that Donald and his sister were not on speaking terms at this time (and remain so. Donald is also not on speaking terms with his parents).

After this, Della disappears from the picture. There’s been some problems by the comic writer’s trying to decide what to do but it is generally been decided not to elaborate on where Della is, because there is really only 2 answers. The first (and more likely) being that she just abandoned the triplets after leaving them with Donald. And the second is that she and her husband met with some accident which is why they never came back. The writers of most Disney comics decided both answers are too depressing to really explore when dealing with children, so they’ve never properly answered the question.

So that’s who Donald’s sister is.

Okay, but imagine if...

Cedric Diggory hadn’t died.

Imagine, just for a moment, that when they take the portkey, instead of an Avada Kedavra, it’s a Stupefy that hits him. Or that the AK misses him by an inch, hits a grave instead, knocks him out for a second.

Imagine that everybody forgets about the Hufflepuff boy out cold on the floor, because they are so intent on resurrecting Voldemort. Peter forgets as he ties Harry to that statue. Voldemort forgets as he is dumped into a cauldron full of flesh and bone and blood. And every death eater that comes sooner or later, well, no one tells them about the boy either - there are more pressing concerns.

However, Harry doesn’t forget. Because Harry has been in that sort of situation since he was eleven. He’s used to looking out for others, by now. Hermione and the Troll, Ron on the chess game, Ginny in the Chamber, Sirius and Hagrid and even Buckbeak- Harry always looks out for everyone, and never forgets about anyone, even if they are not really his friends.

So while he stares in horror, while he’s powerless and sees his greatest foe come back to life, a tiny part of his mind is screaming at him to check on Cedric, to get them out of here. Both. Alive.

Now let’s say that the ceremony, and the Death Eater meeting after the resurrection takes time. Lots of it. Let’s say that Voldemort, being the drama queen he obviously is, takes his time, and enjoys every single second of attention he gets from his followers and that Potter brat.

Let’s say he takes enough time for Cedric to come back to consciousness.

He awakes, lying in the grass and dirt, surrounded by bits of stone, his head aching and confused. The cup is laying about, not too far from him, and he could take it to go back but- he’s a Hufflepuff. He’s loyal. He doesn’t forget either, and that’s why, even if he’s confused about why or how he’s here, he doesn’t take the cup and goes searching for Harry.

Now, the tournament is a vicious thing, isn’t it ? Who’s to say to poor confused Cedric that this is not one more, secret, task ?

So Cedric goes looking, wand in hand, ready to fight, because he’s a Hogwart champion - and really, a Graveyard ? That’s creepy. And because he’s on his guard, and he’s moving around silently, no one notices him creeping behind one of the graves. No one notices the Hufflepuff boy, his horrified expression, and his frantic gaze as he slowly understands that no, that wasn’t a task, and that wasn’t a dream either.

Maybe not even Harry, or maybe he does, but that’s not the important thing.

The important thing is that being in Hufflepuff doesn’t make you stupid at all. The important thing is that Cedric is a champion, and smart, and a quick thinker and a hard worker.

The important thing is that Cedric thinks fast, and casts an ‘Accio’ on the cup as he runs towards Harry while he duels Voldemort.

He breaks through the crowd of amazed and struck Death Eaters, catches Harry’s arm with one hand, and with Seeker reflexes, catches the cup with the other.

Cedric lives, and both Harry and him go back to Hogwarts, terrified, bloody, and flinching away from the sudden noise coming from the public. They both live, and thus no one notices that something is amiss immediately, no one sees their wild glances around - as if someone was still out to kill them. The public cheers, and sings the victory of both Hogwart’s champions, and they are suddenly hugged by their families - the Diggorys and Weasleys.

No one notices, and that’s why when the noise dies down, and someone casts a sonorus on them to ask them how they feel about that victory, everyone hears them say, in a still disbelieving and trembling voice.

“He’s back.”

Obviously, everyone is confused, but they start talking, a bit over each other really, but they are in shock - and they say he’s back, Voldemort’s back, and he took my blood, and we were in a graveyard, and I was knocked out, missed most of the ritual, but it was him, yeah, and there were Death Eaters, in a circle, torturing Harry, horrible, had to get away, he’s back, he’s back.

And that’s when the people notice their faces, the blood, Harry twitching fingers - cruciatus - and their wands still clenched in their fingers, as if ready to attack anyone on sight.

This time, though, Harry doesn’t get ushered away by fake-Moody - because Cedric still has a hand gripping his arm, and wont let go for the world. He tells Dumbledore, and their families, though, when the Headmaster asks them to talk “More calmly and clearly, please, young men” at the Infirmary. Barty Crouch Jr is still apprehended, and the real Moody discovered, and it puts their incredible tale in a new, horrific and real, light.

Imagine if Cedric Diggory lived.

Two witnesses of His return. One is Harry Potter, Hero and Saviour of the Wizarding world. The second is beloved Hufflepuff Prefect Cedric Diggory, Hogwarts Champion. Even if people didn’t believe the first, they would believe the second, and vice versa.

Obviously, the ministry doesn’t take it well, but Amos Diggory and the Weasleys, and Dumbledore make a move together. Susan Bones helps her fellow Hufflepuff by contacting her aunt. Together, they get memory evidence - and they even agree on submitting to truth serum.

Because if Harry alone couldn’t do it - or had no idea he could - Cedric is there, and his father works at the Ministry, and he’s a seventh year. He knows more, and he has people ready to help him - and if he asks them, to help Harry Potter.

Sure, the ministry would try to get all this under the rug, but they couldn’t. Because Weasleys, and Diggorys, and Dumbledore, and Bones, and even Longbottom and soon every name that has a contact in Hogwarts - except some of the Death Eaters - are pushing for the truth to get out, and with a bit of blackmail, Rita helps - and this time, the Daily Prophet can’t repress all of them.

Imagine if Cedric Diggory lived, and how the war would have turned.

Imagine just.

Shout-out to artists who work a lot on their artwork but doesn’t get enough recognition: keep going! Either if you do it for fun or to improve, your hard work will fruit someday! Your art matters.

Shout-out to artists who make a lot of gift art / requests, but aren’t appreciated enough: you’re a kind-hearted soul and your artwork’s powerful enough to make someone smile! But sometimes you need to create only for yourself. Your art makes people happy, and it should make you happy too.

Shout-out to artists who are demotivated to work and haven’t produced anything in a while: I know how you feel, I’ve been there. And eventually you will come around. It doesn’t matter how much time you need, when you’re ready, show us how bright you can shine! We wait for you.

3

I’ve seen a lot of speculation on how that obvious fusion is a pearl and ruby, and I also just want to add that I think it’s a new fusion! Like… super new!
Just look at her appearance: her hair color isn’t really blended, just like Garnet’s in the answer, and her clothes also look super mashed up.
But… also not completely mashed up. It’s mashed up, but not enough to the point where it’s a complete mess like Garnet’s garments (hahaha) were. That brings me to my next theory.
Not only is the fusion new, but it’s not completely new to the two fused together. Lemme explain.
So Garnet decided to stay fused together, which eventually resulted in a more complete looking fusion, to the point where she didn’t even look like a fusion, but her own gem. So what if these two frequently fused together (before the whole Wanted arch), in secret, but knew that they couldn’t stay fused together for so long, otherwise they’d be caught and most likely shattered.
So that would explain why they don’t look exactly look complete (the hair) but they’ve fused enough to somewhat form this not so fusiony looking outfit. Let me know what you think! There’s a lot more I could explain, but I don’t want to rant forever! I’m so excited for her!

“Sherlock?”

The voice comes, rough and uncertain, from somewhere down the hall; Sherlock looks up from the microscope instantly and cranes his neck to see John standing just out of the reach of the light, still in shadow. He’d gone to bed nearly two–no, three–hours ago and should be fast asleep, not standing tentatively just where Sherlock can’t see his face. Nightmare, probably.

“John?” he answers, sliding off the stool and coming around the table. John takes a step back and Sherlock stops, steadying himself with one hand on the worktop. “You okay?”

John hesitates, his left hand clenching and unclenching ever so slowly by his side. The collar of his t-shirt is misshapen where it’s been pulled away from his neck. When he speaks, his voice is deliberate. “Are you coming to bed?”

“Yeah,” Sherlock nods, and then, because John is trying to hide behind some semblance of normality and Sherlock doesn’t want to crowd him just yet, he adds, “Yeah, just let me finish up here, I won’t be long. Another five minutes.”

There’s another long pause but eventually John says, “Yeah, okay.” He doesn’t turn around, though. He doesn’t go back to bed. He lingers in the hall and watches Sherlock take one more look through the microscope lens and make a notation–it says experiment abandoned (J)–and then do a cursory tidy-up before locking up the doors and turning off the lights. 

Finally Sherlock switches off the last light in the flat, leaving everything cloaked and shadowed, and then John is in his arms, coming forward in the safety of the darkness to push his face into Sherlock’s neck and wrap himself around him. His cheek against Sherlock’s skin is damp and overwarm. There’d been tears, then. 

“All right?” Sherlock asks quietly. He rubs John’s back, firm but gentle, reminding him of the boundaries of his body, revealing the edges of reality under the blurry film of dreaming. 

John shakes his head. “No,” he says, hoarse with honesty, settling himself along the lines of Sherlock’s body, giving over his tension, giving in to his exhaustion in the shelter of Sherlock’s arms. He gives the tiniest sigh of relief. “But I will be. I will be.”

“I’ll be here,” Sherlock promises, and he cradles the back of John’s head and closes his eyes. He’ll stand here until John’s feet get cold and then take him to bed, and he’ll hold him there until he falls asleep, and in the morning they might not yet be all right, but they will be. They’re working toward it. They’re trying, together, and that’s enough. 

It’s not an answer, and it’s not a solution, but it’s enough. It’s hope, and for tonight, it’s enough.

Okay but y'all lisTEN trampoline park AU’s.

•contests to see who can jump higher eventually leading to crashing into each other and falling

•"you got into a fight with a TWELVE YEAR OLD.“
“THEY STARTED IT OK.”

•"babe bet I can backflip.“
"Please don’t.”

•the one friend that gets annoyed with the competitive ones.

•"Bro bet i can get out of the block pit faster than you.“
"You’re on bro.”
*from across the building* “YOU’RE GONNA GET US THROWN OUT.”

•the OTP secretly making out during the blackout jump.

•"please stop landing in front of me and telling me you fell for me we’ve been dating for three years”

•the one that takes the obstacle course way too seriously, eventually leading to being thrown out of the place.

•the one that gets way too into dodgeball and leaves several 13 year olds with black eyes and bruised ribs.

•the squad goofing around and acting like children.

•"BABE WATCH ME DO A KICKFLIP.“
“The last time you tried
You were in the hospital for FOUR DAYS.”

Feel free to add more!

4

You Need To Know This Pole Dancer’s Self-Confidence Secrets

In her own words, pole dancer and fitness trainer Roz “The Diva” Mays is where she is today by way of a miracle. “If you’d have told me during that first pole-dancing class…” (which, she adds, kicked her ass completely) “…[that] I would eventually be leading classes of my own all around the country, and would have ended up on TV four times doing this, I would have slapped the shit out of you,” she laughs.

READ MORE

anonymous asked:

Hey Darling!! I was just wondering if you would ever write something in Stiles's perspective about Derek's death....LOL I'm sorry for the Angsty askXDXD

Derek is dead.

It goes around in his head as he drives from Quantico to Washington.

Derek is dead. Derek is dead. Derek god damn Hale is god damn dead.

Stiles racks his brains for the last time he saw Derek; for a memory he can focus on instead of the god damn road leading him to Derek’s body.

It was June. Five months ago. When he first moved in to Quantico, Derek came down from Washington and they walked along the river, exchanging stories. Derek had been in New York, finally settling the Hale estate with a lawyer so far removed from Beacon Hills he felt that he could trust them. He’d been wearing a lilac t-shirt that Stiles couldn’t stop staring at him in, couldn’t stop wanting to pluck at the sleeve, touch Derek on the arm, brush his fingers against Derek’s. The two of them had nearly died together a dozen times, and Stiles still hadn’t been able to bring himself to touch him.

Keep reading

An Oliver’s Birthday Fic

General | Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak | Speculation Fic


Surprise!” 

People yelled.

Confetti exploded above his head. 

Oliver blinked several times to ensure it wasn’t a dream and glanced around the room. His team - his family - stood before him, all with giant smiles on their faces. Felicity, his sister, Lance, Diggle, and the rest of the team. “Wh-What…what is all of this?” 

“Told ya he’d forget!” Thea bounced forward and threw her arms around his neck. “Happy birthday, Ollie!” 

Happy…oh, God. He’d completely forgotten. For probably the tenth year in a row. Maybe more, if he counted the years he drank his birthday away. Oliver looked down at his sister, practically exploding with excitement, and then at Felicity. She wore a dress that could have brought his heart to the ground, and that hair…he loved her hair like that. 

And she was smiling. 

Bigger than he’d seen her smile for a long time. 

Tears filled his eyes as he looked around the room. They’d decorated with streamers and balloons, and a cake that said ‘Happy Birthday Oliver!’ in green cursive letters sat on the counter. They threw him a party. “I-I…” dear God, he was gonna cry. “I don’t know what to say.” 

“We figured that you’d forget and probably wouldn’t have a chance to prepare your speech.” Curtis chuckled. “Rene and Dinah were curious as to what speechless Oliver looked like.” 

“Well,” he slid his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight to his other foot, “you got it.” He looked around the room again. It wasn’t like he couldn’t believe his team would do this for him; he knew how much they loved him, despite how hard he tried to push them away. It was just that he couldn’t believe he was here. Ten years ago, he could count how many real friends he had on one hand. He’d been through hell and back since then, murdering people in cold blood, causing heartache wherever he stepped, failing to make any relationship work. And somehow…he got to here. Standing in the Loft, at his birthday party. “I don’t deserve any of this.” 

“Yes.” Felicity stopped towards him, her hand reached out to touch his arm, “Yes, you do. If we had a bit more time, we’d throw you at least ten parties to make up for all the times you didn’t get one. Because, Oliver,” her hand settled on his cheek, sending tingles down to his toes, “You deserve a birthday party more than anyone.” 

alright ive been thinking about the inquistion road trip just imagine

-so the inquisitor and they’re companions rent a rv to travel cross country various stops both business and fun along the way

-Josie and leliana take turns driving 

-leliana drives wicked fast and refuses to stop and ask for directions

-meanwhile when the occasional argument breaks out in the back you can hear josie ‘if you do not stop i will turn us right around and we will go back home!’

-cullen backseat driving

-solas giving history bits about where they are (and sera groaning each time he does) 

-’are we there yet are we there yet arE WE TH-’ ‘we will get thERE WHEN WE GET THERE SERA’ 

-backseat chess match

-back seat wicked grace (varric of course carries a deck of cards with him) 

-viv complaining about how she can’t wait to leave this gross rv and get some fresh air

-cole spends a lot of time looking out the window

-blackwall attempts playing i spy and other car games. sera enjoys the idea

-bull keeps wiggling his eyebrows in dorians direction

-the inquisitor falling asleep on their love interest 

-varric would attempt shooting Bianca at every target sign. cassandra eventually has to take away any bolts left. 

-theyd totally stop at the world’s biggest ball of twine and other stupid things like that

-battles over the radio 

please add more i just really love this idea  a lot

francesofsuburbia  asked:

Hi Hiller- when I was younger I loved to draw. I'm an adult now and for some reason when I sit down in front of a piece of paper I don't know what to do. What advice do you have for a grown up who forgot how to draw?

Oooh that’s a tricky one. Sitting in front of a blank piece of paper is probably the most intimidating thing and has always been kind of scary for me. I’ve come up with a list of things for you to try to make drawing a bit easier.

A. Work on old paper/materials. End papers from discarded books, craft pads from second hand stores, a notepad from grandma’s junk drawer, a cool piece of wood you find in a dumpster, stuff like that. It takes away the pressure of having to create a perfect thing if the material you’re working on is already flawed or smells weird.

B. Draw a lot. It doesn’t matter if it’s good or bad. Only a small fraction of things I draw end up being shared, maybe every one out of twenty things will be decent. What people don’t see is the heap of not-so-great things I create in the process of making that one thing. If you’re drawing different ideas all the time, and thinking of how to make those ideas better when you’re not drawing, eventually you will get better and the good ideas will come more easily and more frequently.

C. It’s incredibly hard to draw when you are overly prepared to draw. Sitting down with the intent to create a perfect drawing adds a terrible amount of pressure and is the thing that trips so many people up and makes it hard to even start creating in the first place. Draw informally, when you’re watching television or listening to music. Watch a movie and draw a picture of something you hear that would be interesting when taken out of context. Try to not think too much about it. Approach drawing from an angle, not head on, if that makes sense.

D. Finding your subject matter can also be difficult and may be what you’re actually talking about here. A few things influence the content of my drawings:

  1. Inspiration from the world around me. Other artists’ work, books I read, music, conversations I have while waiting to buy groceries, things like this.
  2. My feelings and internal dialogue, what I’m thinking about or am moved by or want to express to others. Daydreams, real dreams, imagined conversations are all good sources for drawing material as they are things that no one else would ever know about unless you expressed them.
  3. My ability as an artist. I am less of an M. C. Escher and more of a David Shrigley. You have to find the right spot on the infinitely wide spectrum of art in which you can create work that you like and you think is good. I like drawing amorphous shapes and faces and fun things, so that is where I’m currently situated. Agnes Martin drew lines and dots and is well known because she was super good at it.

Hopefully, at some point, 1, 2, and 3 will come together and allow you to create something that you consider great or good or even okay will do sometimes.

I think those are four good things to think about. The very beginning is the hardest part when it comes to making art, I wish we could all just skip it. Hopefully this will help you, and maybe others, get started again.

Theo Appreciation:

First of all, I want to make the point that prior to season 6a I had no remorse or empathy for Theo period.But now he’s one of my favs (of the season) here’s why:

He’s funny and sassy in his own way 

He has shown change and growth especially with his sister’s death/murder

He didn’t run even when hell was breaking loose

He helped Scott and obviously wants to be in the pack

***His bromance with Liam melts my soul it’s adorable ^^^^ see above

His plans with Liam that are usually just winging it

He put Liam’s life before his:

He was ‘the bait’ & fought the ghost riders

ETC.

I heard possible spoilers that season 6B will heavily center around Liam’s role as the new ‘alpha’ and I hope we see every more growth with Theo and eventually add him to the pack. He’s a great character in the way that he’s morally gray and I love him simply as the ‘dark’ character in the show, especially as a contrast to Scott.


Besides Theo, I also, of course, support Cody soo much and I hope he is ok and feels the support of all of his fans.

Shiro/Matt Fic Recs

Cardboard Castles by Agapostemon   // 35k (series, WIP)

A Very Original Modern AUTM. Mostly Shiro-centric. Lots of fluff (mostly platonic). Lots of mental illness feels. Lots of suffering, but always happy endings.

Keith has BPD. Shiro and Matt have PTSD. Lots of Broganes. A bunch of dorky engineers being dorky. Eventual Klance. Slow burn Shiro/Matt. Like… really, really slow. Like nine years worth of slow.

ok,,, this is like my fave series ever,,, shatt is in it but not a huge part of it (in the last fic it is) but its so goOD 

take my hand, take my whole life too by AlwaysRain // 32.5k (multi-chapter; WIP)

“Matt… can you not remember?”


Shiro can hear his own heartbeat in the long silence that follows. It seems like Matt isn’t going to answer, but then he does- so quietly that Shiro can barely hear his voice rasping with disuse.


“… I don’t know where I am.”


Pure angst and i love it. theres aftermath of torture and future butt stuff so u are warned

Like Rubidium and Water by firepaladins // 6.8k (one shot)

“Hey, have you ever seen what happens when you put rubidium in water?” 

SOME GOOD OLD SCHOOL AU where shiro is a jock and matt is a mad scientist, aka he likes blowing shit up.

thats some gay shit by solllys // 16.6k (multi-chapter)

pidge: lance is a harlot
pidge: but he’s our harlot and we love him
lance: i cant believe youre calling me a slut
keithkogay: when the shoe fits
lance: go away emo hermit
keithkogay: no im taking you to walmart get down here you fucking twink

THIS IS SO FUNNY i love text based fics, but this is mostly klance but shatt is in it and its cuter than a baby with a puppy. as u can read from the description, bad words are used ALOT u have been warned

Pardon Me byeso (cazzy) // 2.7k (oneshot)

“Wait,” Lance says, scrambling on the couch until he’s sitting up. “I do have questions about the derivatives, but I’m dying to hear more about this barista that swept you off your feet!”

“You already know everything,” Shiro sighs, moving to pack up his laptop and textbook. “He works at Castle of Lions and we’ve talked a grand total of three times.”

YALL…. pining shiro is great this fic is so sweet and short but i still love it

Love and Other Questions by squirenonny // 43.3k (multichapter; WIP)

One week after news of the Kerberos disaster broke, Pidge receives a new Mark–proof that Matt is still alive. She breaks into the Garrison to find him, only to find herself caught up in the fight for the fate of the universe.

Keith keeps his arms covered so he doesn’t have to watch Shiro’s scars compounding on his skin–but doing so means cutting off contact with his romantic soulmate, who greets him each morning with a new (and terrible) pickup line.

Shiro and Matt thought they were the luckiest people alive when they found out they were going to Kerberos together. But Shiro hasn’t seen Matt’s untidy scrawl on his arm in almost a year, and he has no idea if his soulmate is even still alive.

[Canonverse Soulmate AU with romantic and platonic soulmates (and some gray areas in between)]

im crying,,, this is angsty as heck and is sad but its so good,,,, pls read it. klance is also in this

Holy Shattrimonyby Ikira // 14k (Series; WIP)

Shiro just thought that he was helping Matt out, keeping him safe while they were prisoners, making sure he had enough to eat, that kind of thing. The other alien prisoners, however, see it in a slightly different light. Congrats, Matt and Shiro, you officially just got space-hitched!

this is also a really good series and just… matt and shiro get space married and cute things. smut in the last part of the last fic and skippable

The Trials and Tribulations of Matthew Holt by herekittie // 15k (multi-chapter)

“Takashi Shirogane is my pilot,” he said, voice flat and monotone. “Takashi Shirogane is my pilot, Katie. Takashi Shirogane.”

“Yes…?”

As if someone had flipped a switch, Matt freaked out in a burst of emotion, nearly knocking his head into Katie’s nose when he turned. “Takashi Shirogane, Katie. The Garrison darling! He holds all the records! All of them! Fastest stimulation time, youngest instructor, most liked instructor, and. And.” He looked down at his phone again.

“Right,” Katie said, drawing the word out. “Your crush.”

“Yes,” Matt replied. “My crush.”

A 5+1 thing that started as ‘times Samuel Holt interrupted Matt and Shiro’ but eventually became 'times Matt falls in love with Shiro’

god i love sam holt as much as he loves his peas,,,,, but dang this is cute and i can RELATE TO MATT LOL


ill be adding more to my list if i have time but!!! these are my current fave shatt fics (that i could pull outta my ass in like 10 minutes) but i always want more to read and add to my list!!! 

EDIT: I FORGOT TO LINK THE FICS WHOOPS WOW

Third Eye Sigil

So, I have the psychic abilities of a very dull rock. I sometimes read about all of these talented people astral traveling, lucid dreaming, dream-walking, spirit-talking…and I’m just sitting there like “MY FACE IS TINGLING IS THAT A GHOST OR A MIGRAINE INCOMING?” It’s always a migraine.

Honestly, nothing is going to work as well as meditation for developing your psychic abilities. But, might as well use everything in your arsenal to help out, right?


                                         “ MY THIRD EYE IS OPEN.”


In order to charge this sigil. I decided to do something a bit more intricate than the usual burning routine.

NOTE: The following steps are completely optional.

Materials: 

  • Pen
  • Paper
  • 1-2 Lemon slices
  • Bay Leaf 
  • Rosemary
  • Salt
  • Rain Water
  • Anise Seed
  • Mint
  • Cleansed container

Procedure:

  1. Draw the sigil on a small piece of paper. Focus on your intent. 
  2. Pour  the rainwater into your cleansed container
  3. Add some salt
  4. Place the sigil in the rain water, still focusing on your intent. 
  5. Add lemon slices and other herbs
  6. DO NOT DRINK THIS GUYS. DO. NOT. DRINK. IT.

Sleep with the container nearby. The water and acidity of the lemon should  eventually destroy the sigil. Paired with the herbs, it should be nicely charged. 

Results may vary from person to person. Good luck!

4

I’m obsessed with those “Draw your characters wearing–” Drawing Memes, So I finally made one myself full of super complicated Designs no one in their right mind would want to draw 8D

Inspired by this and this!!

random atla headcanons
  • zuko is good at math. i have no canon evidence for this i just like the idea of sokka trying to figure out a hard engineering math thing and zuko just rattling off the numbers and everyone stares at him 
  • toph loves to be carried by sokka and zuko
  • katara finds out that zuko is ticklish and immediately uses this to blackmail him
  • momo and the rest of the gaang realize that zuko is a literal human heater and they all have a secret competition of who can get the closest to him at night. momo often wins this (he takes the direct approach and just lays on him), however both aang and toph have successfully managed to full on spoon zuko without him noticing
  • suki and sokka are the cutest gross couple
  • appa loves to lick zuko
  • after seeing the ember island play they developed a bunch of funny inside jokes about it
  • mom!katara and dad!zuko
  • the older kids looking after toph and aang because they really are only 12 years old
  • sokka and zuko find out they both trained under piandao and they start training/sparring together 
  • suki and katara having passionate feminist rants
  • suki is awful at cooking (sokka pretends to like it)
  • one time katara made seaprunes for everyone with mixed results
  • zuko is actually okay at cooking, as long as it involves roasting things with his bending
  • everyone comfortable with each other and knowing they can talk to each other about everything
  • essentially the gaang is a loving and supporting family by the end of the war

feel free to add your own! i probably will add more eventually

I chose, I chose letting you come into my life and making a mess of it. I knew what I was doing, I knew what I was getting into, and yet, I decided to continue to give you the power of building me or destroying me. It seems you chose too, and it was not in my favor. It seems as if each time I try to trust someone with my heart they choose to reject it. I thought with you it would be different, that probably I would be the one who would break your heart, but once again I was mistaken, I got attached and you decided to walk away. You helped me put my hopes up, you taught me how to care for you, and then decided you were not ready for whatever this was, maybe it was not enough for you, or maybe it was too much. The real reason why you walked away, I will never know, because you shut yourself and avoided me, I wanted an explanation, I needed an explanation, I thought that it was my fault, sometimes i still think it is. You left me hanging from an infinite that never came, I stood there waiting for you to come back, waiting for you to pick me up from the ground, for you to tell me, me and my heart were going to be fine, I was waiting for you to come tell me something at all. I will be ok eventually, I have always gotten better after a failure in love, I will have to add this one to the list. It was good while it lasted. I won’t say you broke my heart, but I will say you cracked it. It will get a scar from this experience, but it will help it be stronger for the next time. You didn’t break me, after all I gave you the way in.  

I am more than what meets the eye, I appear as the cold hearted woman most people are too afraid to get close to, I made my own image, I am conscious of the what I project, I planned it to be this way because I was tired of people breaking me every time. I told you that before we started, how every man had played with my feelings and my lips, how after each was done they had walked away from me, never looking back. I told you I had a difficult time believing in love because all of my stories had ended badly, for me at least, and you promised me you wouldn’t do that, you told me you were not capable of breaking my heart, that I was going to become your everything, the person you cared about the most. You broke your promise, you left, just like the rest of them. How am I supposed to keep believing that something wonderful will happen to me if every time I try I fail? I have told myself that I will be my own savior, but it is exhausting, fighting always for myself. I don’t need someone, you know that, but I want someone with whom I can share some of the weight. I wanted someone to help me carry my burdens before they buried me, but now i have the feeling that I will have to keep carrying them on my own.

I chose to let you in and I don’t regret my choice, I don’t know if I would do it again, because as hard as it is for me to admit it, it hurts, badly.

—  A.G