but this was a warm up believe it or not

anonymous asked:

ahh hello hello i was wanting a match up? i am a shy person honestly, it takes a while for me to warm up to people but when i do i'm a huge nerd. i am extremely loyal and will protect my friends till the end. Animals are great. im a introvert or INFP-T ,her/she, my sexuality is pan. my height is 5'8 and i have medium brown hair. my hobbies are horse back riding,drawing, and viola. im a Pisces, my favorite drink is banana milkshake and fav flower is tiger lily.

So, I believe you best match up with:

NADIA!!!

The two of you have a lot in common, like: the love for animals, the willingness to protect your friends and playing an instrument! She would be able to open you up with her extroverted nature and appreciate your loyalty more than most arcana characters.

In terms of interactions:

-You two could play together! Just imagine you finding her playing the piano and you joining her subtlety. She’d immediately stop not having noticed that you were there at all but then ask that you to play a bit on your own. Once your nervousness disappears as you play she’d join you and together you’d both create a new and graceful melody. Once you’ve both stopped she’d ive you all of this harsh criticism like: your posture is off, your key was off. But then she’d tell you how much she admired the passion and drive in your eyes and how you always looked so confident when you played.

-She’d love to see you nerd out. She’d find it incredibly cute and nice to know that you’re knowledgeable about something and ask you loads of questions about it if she wasn’t that knowledgeable about the subject herself. Then you’d both go on about how you came to know about the subject and she’d just ask more and more questions, teasingly you shamelessly whenever you appear nervous. But by the end of that conversation you’ll both feel a lot closer and more friendly towards each other.

-I’m not sure of there being any horses in Vesuvia, but you best believe that if she learns you love horseback riding that she’ll bring horses into the city asap and she’d be one of the only people in the city that could bring you horses. If there are already horses at the castle, then she’d bring you to them subtly-just to surprise you. She’d let you pick out of all kinds of horses: Arabian stallions, Belgians, Thoroughbreds, Dutch Warmbloods you name it! She’d spend hours at a time just watching you with the horse and possibly grow impatient at the process of gaining the horse’s trust. But once you start explaining things to her she’d admire you yet again.

-Admin Seraphina

DON’T FORGET TO LEAVE SOME SUGGESTIONS FOR AN EVENT FOR US IN OUR PERSONAL BLOGS!!! @cssie-christmas @nikitaflame

SHEITH POSITIVITY WEEK - DAY 3: Summerrain.

I never did you right, I know that
Too many sleepless nights, I own that
I said it time and time, I know that
I want to try again

Can we start over?
Can we start over?
Can we start over?
Before it’s over, over

- “Start Over” by Imagine Dragons

I like to believe, that Shiro felt guilty for always disappearing on Keith. Of course it wasn’t his fault, but still… So when they get back to Earth, he tries to make it up to Keith. I really like the idea of them dancing in the rain on a warm summer day, since they haven’t felt rain in a long time. And they love it. There’s just so much time they both lost during the war and the Kerberos mission… They both need these little moments to rebuild themselves together. ♥

In the future I pieced together for us
You hold my hand and I kiss your thumb and I am not afraid to tell you I miss you

In that future we stand together in the grocery aisle
Arguing over which kind of ice cream to buy
And later I kiss the caramel off of your face while we clean up the plates

In that future, you don’t leave at the first warning sign. You tell me that you’re scared and that it’s not easy to love when everything else is hard. You don’t think it’s the right time. You laugh when I tell you we’re worth fighting over but I mean what I say and you believe me. You stay.

In the future we really have, I am holding somebody else’s hand. They don’t taste the same and they don’t remind me of warm  bread or taste like red wine. They smile different and they don’t make me laugh the same but they’re willing to try and I want to hold on to someone with less warning signs.

—  in this one, you don’t stay
3

Your heart was pounding profusely, as you held your gaze on the screen.

It only took a few minutes before you got a response, and once you did, you were beyond mortified.

Frantically, you went back to your Instagram and found the comment Bonnie left on your picture. She had given you her number, but you accidentally mixed up the last two numbers.

Which brought you here.

Looking at the cute little selfie you received, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

Not only did you text the wrong number, but you texted Jensen freaking Ackles. The actor you had crushed on for years.

You texted back the emoji, not knowing what to say.

And as the seconds passed, it didn’t take long for you to get another reply.

‘Isn’t it a little late for a bath? I mean, shouldn’t you be in bed? Lol.’

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. This was so surreal. How did you manage to text your celebrity crush, was beyond anything you could imagine.

For a moment, you thought you should just apologize and then throw your phone and pretend it never happened, but then you decided to continue the conversation with him. I mean, it’s not everyday you get to talk to Jensen.

'It’s never too late for a bubble bath, especially when there’s wine. But what about you? Why aren’t you in bed?’

Suddenly, you felt a little flirtatious. Maybe it was the alcohol. Whatever it was, you didn’t seem to mind.

Taking a sip of your wine, you waited for his response. Thinking of a million things all at once. You had to pinch yourself to see if you were dreaming.

'Alcohol makes everything better. 😉
I can’t sleep. My name is Jensen by the way.’

'I’m Y/N.’

And just like that, you two were texting back and forth for what seemed like forever.

You talked about work and movies and basically everything you could think of. You also talked about your job and the fact that you were a fan of his show. Even when you were done with the bath and now snuggled up in bed.

Somehow, you were both feeling something between you two. Feeling a pull that made you want to keep the conversation going even though you two had only talked this one time. Like two close friends catching up.

But then you saw the time, and suddenly were brought back to reality. You couldn’t believe you were texting him for three hours straight!

'Damn, it’s super late!’ You texted Jensen.

'Didn’t know we were talking for that long. Lol. Guess that happens when you’re having fun. 😉’

You felt your stomach flutter. Giving you a warm sensation throughout your body.

'Well, I better get some sleep. Have another long day tomorrow.’

Once you sent that text, you were a bit bummed. Not wanting it to end, but you were fighting your eyes to stay open.

'Hey…there’s something I want to ask you before you go.’ He replied.

You were a bit hesitant, but curious.

'What’s up?’

Those three dots appeared on the screen, making you hold your breath with anticipation.

'Can you send a selfie? Want to put a face to the legs. Lol’

And just like that, you felt nervous. Nauseas even. You were always insecure, but having Jensen ask for a picture, especially without makeup, you were scared.

Scared of what he might think. Or say.

'Please?’ You received another text.

You let out a sigh, and caved. Holding the blanket close to you, you snapped a quick selfie. The flash from your phone, made your eyes glossy. You were laying on your side, with your hair laid across your pillow and a soft smile that seemed shy yet inviting. But you sent the picture before you could even talk yourself out of it.

Three dots on the screen, came and gone. Suddenly you panicked.

Maybe he didn’t like the picture? Or maybe he didn’t think you were pretty? Whatever it was, you were now regretting ever sending him the picture.

Wishing you never even sent the first text to begin with.

You locked your phone and closed your eyes, wincing at the thoughts of what you imagined was going through his head.

Until your phone vibrated.

'Fuck, you’re beautiful.’

Your lips curved into a cheeky grin, and a squeal escaped from you.

Though you wanted to keep talking, you also wanted to play it cool.

'Well I enjoyed our conversation. It was fun.’

'Me too. I haven’t had that much fun talking to anyone in a long time. So thank you.’

'Good night, Jensen.’

'Good night, sweet heart. Hopefully next time we will talk on the phone instead of this texting crap. I hate texting. lol.’

Your smile felt like it curved even more. But you were sure it wasn’t even possible. Jensen Ackles wanted to talk to you again. But this time, you would hear his deep, rough voice. It made your stomach flutter from just the thought.

'Lol, maybe. If you’re lucky 😉 now go to sleep Mr. Ackles. It’s passed your bed time.’

'Yes ma'am. Good night.’

but i let you in. that was the problem. i told you from the start that i chew my own heart, that i don’t trust love, that i can’t watch a trainwreck. that i don’t open up because the inside is too soft and i’m not good at getting the thorns unstuck. you brought my hand to your lips and promised you would be different. i knew better but i still believed it. look at us now. you’re growing out and i’m rotting. look at us now. i can’t stop thinking about you and you’re only thinking about him. look at us and look at where we could have been. but i let you in. i knew better and i let you in.

Things I’m Happy About
  • Lucy won a prestigious literature award at the age of 19.
  • The main character in her book is called Iris; Iris was the name of the Greek goddess of the rainbow; a rainbow usually symbolizes following our hearts and dreams.
  • This girl has fulfilled one of her dreams at the age of 19. I am proud of her.
  • People older than her acknowledge her talent and even refer to her as “Lucy-sensei”.
  • Fairy Tail is as loud as ever. I hope that never changes.
  • Gajeel eating an iron mug. I’ll never get enough of Gajeel eating iron anything tbh. :D
  • Jet and Droy being genuinely happy for Lucy.
  • Happy having his paws healed. Happy not having to worry about his best friend dying or turning into a demon or anything of the sort. Happy just being happy.
  • Natsu possibly making a promise to clean after the party.
  • Natsu and Gray ready to fight over the smallest of things.
  • Erza being there to stop them, just like old times.
  • Anna being a part of Lucy’s life. However small it might be.
  • Blushing Gajeel.
  • Wendy and Chelia’s friendship.
  • Lyon being supportive of his pink-haired guildmate.
  • The difference between the amount of food Rogue and Sting had at the eating contest.
  • Freed and Bickslow being genuinely happy for their close friend Evergreen.
  • Freed with a ponytail.
  • Laxus still having trouble believing the Lisanna in front of him is the real one.
  • Erza saying she’s proud of Lucy.
  • Lucy being happy that she’s acknowledged by someone she’s always looked up to.
  • King Fiore finding happiness in something small (pumpkin business?) and leaving the country in his daughter’s hands.
  • The Alvarez Empire actually being mentioned in the final chapter.
  • Meredy’s beautiful dress.
  • Erza brushing her scarlet hair day after day. /This is the part where I started sobbing./
  • Mest taking care of Makarov.
  • Second chances. Forgiveness.
  • Lucy’s “Everything’s making me happy. I feel like I’m wrapped up in something really warm.”
  • Romeo being absolutely certain that he doesn’t want to end up like Macao and Wakaba.
  • Reedus drawing the stunning Bisca and her elegant husband Alzack.
  • Natsu taking care of drunk Lucy.
  • Natsu and Happy actually staying over at her place for the night to make sure she’s alright.
  • The flashbacks to what they’ve been through.
  • Happy being concerned about Lucy. Stomach aches are not to be taken lightly!
  • “If I hadn’t met you, I would have never lived any of this” which also applies to us, fans of Fairy Tail.
  • Their hug.
  • “We’ll be together forever from now on” implying that they have all the time in the world to say (and do) the interesting things Lucy hinted at.
  • Both Natsu and Lucy staying as much in character as possible.
  • Natsu packed Lucy’s bag while she was sleeping.
  • Gray, Erza, Wendy and Carla waiting for them and for the start of their new adventure.
  • Team Natsu going on a quest very few mages have ever attempted to undertake, which speaks volumes of how much they’ve grown and how powerful they’ve become.
  • The open ending. The adventure that continues forever.
  • “Do fairies have tails? Do they not? Do fairies even exist? Do they not? The eternal mystery will continue as an eternal adventure.”

Season 2 AU where Will seduced Hannibal via crop top & daisy dukes 

sorry I’m not sorry I’m never sorry I’m an artist 

Bruise [ V ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst [M]

Length: 9.4k

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Summary: He wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, but that couldn’t stop your heart from believing otherwise.

Part One: x Part Two: x Part Three: x Part Four: x

Originally posted by chanssoo

Bathes were supposed to be relaxing, everyone always said that they would be soothing to your aching muscles and wash away your problems. The water was warm against your freezing skin, the bubbles up to your chin and jostling whenever you moved your legs. The air was faintly filled with the sounds of cars driving by on the streets down below, the tires splashing in the puddles of leftover rain. The room was dimly illuminated, your wet hand glistening on the edge of the tub when the candle on the sink flickered patches of light onto your arm, giving it life when it felt so dull. Everything smelled like oranges and vanilla, your skin, your hair, even the bubbles threatening to spill over the edge of the porcelain. It all seemed relaxing, in theory. It was supposed to feel nice and like a reward after a long day, but in reality it was making you want to rip your hair from your scalp.

Because in the silent solitude all you could think about was Chanyeol.

Keep reading

i wish i’d known sooner a lot of things. like you have no control over anyone’s actions or body except your own, and sometimes not even then. like if it’s not your secret to tell, it’s your secret to keep. like when your word is good people turn to you for truth. like lying is addictive. like compromise and peace are cousins, not twins. like never sign something without reading the full agreement and never sign anything you feel pressured not to read. like listen before you disagree. like taking a deep breath can save relationships.

i messed up so many times i stopped being able to count them. for a long time i thought that meant i was also a bad person; full of failure, full of times i’ve hurt others, sometimes even on purpose.

it took me a long time to realize that what makes a bad person is never admitting you did something wrong. i’ve messed up a lot. but i don’t defend myself against that. i apologize, learn from it, apply it to my personality. learn that sometimes being right isn’t the same thing as the right thing to do. learn that sometimes it’s okay not to be the most loved person in the room. it’s hard for me because i forget, like all people do.

but i think about the people who never learn. who choose time and time again to ignore what happens and instead continue in their pattern, regardless of what happens. that can never be wrong, that refuse to believe it. my mother used to say accidents happen, mistakes happen sometimes, and a choice you can mark your calendar by. 

you aren’t your mistakes. you’re the way you apologize, you’re how you admit you’ve been wrong, you’re how you move forwards. sometimes we can’t admit to ourselves we aren’t perfect. it’s a hard thing to be human. but expect less of who you are.

learn. move on. go far.

i think it’s time i told you (i’m a fan of your universe) (1/1)

Years after Hawkmoth’s defeat, Ladybug and Chat Noir have a conversation about life, love, and marriage.

Ladybug checked her communicator for the third time that night, and frowned.

The green pawprint blinked idly back at her, resting at a junction between city streets—the same place it had been every other time she’d checked.

They hadn’t arranged to meet up that night. It was her turn for a solo patrol tonight, and there hadn’t been any trouble big enough to make calling for help a necessity. She’d stopped a couple muggings, interrupted a robbery—normal, small things. Nothing that needed an extra pair of hands.

And, sure, they both transformed just for the fun of it sometimes. Sometimes they caught one another out on morning strolls or midnight snack runs or impromptu patrols, but usually those involved moving around.

Chat’s tracker hadn’t moved in the past two hours.

She shouldn’t worry—Hawkmoth had been in jail for the past three years and Chat wasn’t in a bad part of town right now—but…

But…

The green pawprint blinked at her from the same junction, at the same pace, unmoved.

Ladybug abandoned the end of her route and headed downtown.

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⇁ through the flames (and into the lava)

Originally posted by kookielife

pairing  Jungkook x Reader

genre smut, fluff, slight humor, crack || dragon!jk, fantasy!au i guess

warnings ⇀ public indecency, dry humping, fingering, non-penetrative sex, cumplay, i’m sorry

word count 7.8k

Your boyfriend is a dragon.

Or so he claims.

or; the perks (and unexpected complications) of dating a fucking dragon

Keep reading

The Boxer Part Two

Pairing: Y/N and Harry

Word Count: 5K

WARNINGS/TRIGGERS: MENTIONS OF MISCARRIAGE AND PHYSICAL FIGHTS.

Prompt: 

“You’re supposed to be in the hospital gown, it’s why we laid it out for you,” Y/N stated, pointing the pen in her hand at the white gown by his feet.

“I’m not wearing that paper shit,” Harry grumbled, “and I’m perfectly fine to leave.”

“That cut says otherwise,” Y/N says.

Harry watches as she sets down the clipboard and turns on the sink to wash her hands, she’s cute. She’s nothing like the kind Harry would go for. His usual prey would be at the bar, lonely, maybe going through a breakup, but he knew for sure that by the end of the night she would be in his bed. Y/N on the other hand looked like too pure for him, and he hated that look.

From his experience Harry had learned that girls like Y/N believed that they were too good for a guy like him. Girls like Y/N, with an innocent smile, soft skin, and soft voices, tended to only use him for one thing, to make their parents upset. Harry had seen it time and time again, it was only a matter of weeks before the girl would crush his heart and move on to someone better.

“I don’t feel anything,” Harry stated.

Harry had grown numb to just about everything. He couldn’t feel the punches thrown at him, he couldn’t feel his emotions, it all just seemed gone to him. He didn’t mind though, no emotions meant he couldn’t get hurt, and no pain meant he was unstoppable.

or

Boxer Harry Styles highers, incredibly perky Y/N as his on-call nurse.

Part One


Harry wasn’t sure which he hated the most, expression his emotions, or having to handle them.

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were you ever in love like that with me. i know you said it i know the words fell in pearls at my feet i know i believed it i know i leaned into the wind even though it spoke of bad things coming i know that it’s my fault for forgetting i’m not different but i loved you deep. loving you changed me like how rivers smooth the sharp of rocks right out from underneath them. but i see you and how you are now and how you anguish in that way, full of light and desire and dream - and i know without wanting to know that it was never me. it couldn’t be.

Cheerleading IS a sport | JJ

Request: a dom!jungkook smut when y/n is a cheerleader and he is like the player of the sport and yeah they could like have the fun in the changing room~

Pairing: Dom!Jungkook, Football!Jungkook X Cheerleader!Reader

Summary: Y/n, best flyer on the cheerleading squad. Jungkook, best kicker and scorer on the football team. What will happen when things get heated between the two all because of something that he just spilled out of his mouth.

Genre: Smut, Angst, Smut

Warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, Dominant!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, hospital handjob, cocky asshole Jungkook

Word Count: 3k+

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What if Stiles and Derek's first kiss is post-nogitsune? Would he feel like a thief? Would he mourn the body that Derek never held? Would each brush of fingertips or kiss to his temple be a betrayal? They'd probably talk about the scars too. Derek would understand-- to an extent. But he grew up not without his history on his skin so he'll never understand how it feels to have that ripped away.

Their lips brush and Stiles turns away a second later, breaths shallow, hands twitching against the folds of Derek’s shirt. There’s warm breath on his cheek, the ghost of beard still so close and all Stiles can think is that he wants this. He wants this. And…

It’s wrong.

Those fingers, twitching against Derek’s shirt, smooth and uncalloused. The scar that used to live above his third knuckle just a burn-hot memory in his mind.

Everything still feels off in his body, out of balance, and he remembers the way Derek used to look at him. All tension and frustration in ways he couldn’t start to make sense of. And now Derek’s lips are in reach, a short turn away, and he’s murmuring out “Stiles…?” and all Stiles can think is…

“Do you want me?”

He can feel the stall in Derek’s thoughts like a physical reaction, and he wonders if there was a subtle tell or if… if he’d just felt it, inside, the confusion a flicker of chaos in Derek’s chest. Can he do that? Feel chaos? The Nogitsune drank it in and Stiles…

“Stiles,” Derek breathes again, a quirk of amusement in his tone. Thumbs smooth down his hips and Stiles fights the urge to rise into the contact. “Thought I’d just answered that question.”

And Stiles could leave it at that, asked and answered. Except…

There should be a scar on his hip, long and thin, from a fence he’d scaled once and dropped down five times faster. Derek should be feeling that right now, that piece of Stiles’ history, that stupid ten year old adventure laid out across his skin. But the skin’s smooth. Blank slate.

He shivers, gripping tighter into Derek’s shirt.

“No, I––” He can’t think of how to explain it. The thoughts are a choked feeling in his throat, a twist in his gut. Something like guilt and fear and he doesn’t even know what answer he wants when he leans back enough to find Derek’s eyes and say: “Since when? Did you… I mean, before…”

He’s not sure Derek knows what he means, but there’s a hint of flush under that dark beard suddenly, and Stiles gets a little bit lost in the contrast.

“Last summer.”

“Last––?” It pulls Stiles back, his eyes startling up. That was… most of a year, that was before…

A sick lurch sets him falling back out of Derek’s grip. Too-smooth fingers (uncalloused) slip too easy from Derek’s chest. His sneaker-covered feet might as well be walking over glass and he’s being dramatic except that he’s really not. Because if Derek wanted him last summer…

“That wasn’t me.” It sounds wrong as he says it, stupid, because… he was there that summer. He remembers every moment spent with Derek, researching the Alphas, searching for hints of Boyd and Erica. Charged smirks and snark and quiet moments that felt more comfortable than they should. He remembers the moments before summer too, when the thought of Derek made his heart pound and his body thrum in a way that could have only meant fear, except it hadn’t only been fear. He’d been scared of the Alpha too, and the hunters, and that coil of electric heat only sparked through his gut for Derek. He remembers that, like he remembers the scars that aren’t there anymore, and he can’t help running his too-soft fingertips over the smooth flesh of his knuckle as he breathes out, faint and lost, “…Was that me?”

There’s a too long pause while the question burns back into his throat, buzzing through his limbs like a current until he realizes he’s shaking from them. Was that him? Helping Derek track the Alpha pack? Helping Scott learn to control his wolf? Sitting by his mom’s hospital bed, watching her lose the long war to her illness, pieces of her flaking away like old scars, like a whole identity, like––

A warm hand closes over his, large and gentle, grounding.

“It was you,” Derek says, simply. Like there’s no question, like nothing’s changed. Like Stiles hasn’t changed. 

But that’s wrong. He’s not the same person he was before the Nogitsune, and he’s not talking in the experiences change you, huh kind of way. He’d had scars before. He’d had… a whole life written on his skin. And then he’d crawled out from inside his possessed body’s throat, spawned out like some alien parasite or… clone and––

“My body died, back there.” Four months past, and he still can’t wrap his head around it. That he’d watched himself bitten and impaled, spasm and cracking and shatter to dust.

The scarred body. His real body.

And he was left in… this.

Long fingers uncurl, stretching out slow. Thin, pale digits fitting strangely perfect between Derek’s, and Stiles can only wonder what it would have looked like before.

“…What if I’m not real?” He watches Derek’s fingers twitch, barely perceptible, tightening like they’re fighting to hold onto him. And Derek’s lost enough in his life, too much. It’s a dick move to say this, to take anything else away from him, but… “What if the guy you wanted last summer… what if he died inside the Nogitsune, and I’m just––”

No.”

The sureness of it has Stiles’ throat clenching. He tilts his head, challenging. Finds Derek’s eyes again.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.”

Which is just… it’s stupid how that makes Stiles’ heart jump. Flutter around like it’s fighting to leap the distance between them and plaster itself all up against Derek’s stupid, muscled, secretly sweet as hell chest.

Which… yeah, that’s nearly a gross enough visual to stomp his fondness boner in the bud. He sets his jaw.

“Did you know I used to have a scar on––”

“Your right hand? Just above the third knuckle, a burn.”

Stiles’ argument stalls out. He blinks, finger shifting to rub over the space, but Derek’s is already there, soothing the phantom mark over his skin.

“I… was eleven.” Because silence has never been safe for him. Because noise distracts from the too-easy pleasure rippling up his arm. “First time I tried cooking dinner for me and dad. Mac and cheese, it… didn’t go great.” He wets his lips. Looks away “Or… the other me did, I don’t––”

You did.” And Derek still sounds so damn sure. Stiles wants to believe him. He parts his lips, can’t. Because––

“Stiles, I’ve never had scars on my skin. I… can’t relate to what it’s like to lose them. But the things that have happened to me… they’re not any less real because I can’t see them. Every bullet, cut, punch I’ve taken…” He might sense the wince forming on Stiles’ face, and shakes his head, shrugging that off like it’s not important. But that’s an argument for another day. “Every scar life gave you… they’re still there. You’re still carrying them, inside you.” He flits his eyes down Stiles’ frame, then away, finger soothing over the ghost burn. “There are plenty no one would have ever seen anyway. But they made you. Who you are, and who you are…” He shakes his head, looks back to meet Stiles’ eyes squarely. “You recognized me when I was a teenager. That’s the same person who recognized me in the preserve.” Stiles feels his face heat because… even knowing Derek’s a werewolf now, he’d never put together that Derek would have heard his fangirl moment to Scott after Derek had walked away.

Before he can speak up, though, Derek’s going on. “You tracked me to Mexico. Faced down the Calaveras to save me. That’s the same person who stared down the Argents, drove a Jeep into a kanima, who hit an Alpha with a wooden baseball bat––”

“Two Alphas,” Stiles cuts in, because props, ok? “Two, that were…” His free hand mimes squishing, and Derek’s lips twitch.

“Two,” he agrees, and Stiles can’t not smile back. Just for a second –– fond, helpless –– then he’s ducking his head. Derek sighs, catches his chin. Guides it up until their gazes lock again.

“That was you,” he says, so firmly Stiles can’t help believing this time. “Was the man who clawed his way out of his own possession. Followed Scott’s howl back to the real world. And whatever happened to your body, whatever… magic gave you a new one, Stiles came out with it. Your scars are still there, just…” His fingers trail to Stiles’ chest, and something thumps out eagerly to meet them.

“Inside,” Stiles breathes, and the way Derek’s eyes warm makes him shiver with a proud ripple of pleasure.

“Inside,” Derek echoes. Runs a thumb light along Stiles’ lip. “You could have come out of the Nogitsune looking like anything. Wouldn’t change who you are.”

And damn, Stiles has fallen for a goddamn poet in a grumpy wolf’s body. …But then, Stiles is pretty sure he’d known that already.

His fingers go up, curl gently into Derek’s shirt.

“But… you like this body,” he prompts, and Derek gives an exasperated huff, pulling him in.

“I like this body,” he confirms, and it doesn’t feel wrong to hear that.

When Derek kisses him this time, Stiles doesn’t pull away.

Humans are space orcs, eh?

I’m new to this, but I love what I’m reading in the feed lately, so, trying my hand!

Some ideas:

What if the greatest diplomacy problem in dealing with humans is that they seem to lie about past events constantly, even to someone who witnessed the same events?  Then it’s discovered that humans have recording devices of all kinds– security cameras, diaries, mp3– and the problem becomes clear.  Humans lie, but not that badly.  The poor, fretful creatures just have a species-wide brain defect.  Kindly aliens take to recording every event and encounter they can, then preface every diplomatic meeting with a record swap so the humans can brush up on what actually happened and the aliens can get some insight into what the humans have been falsely thinking happened.  Ambassadors to Earth get supplementary training in how to handle people with memory impairments, and human ambassadors to other worlds start hiring aliens– ANY aliens– to be their assistants.  Everything smooths out after that.

Religion.  Aliens intellectually understand how religion works and that there are different kinds, but they don’t really “get” it.  The biggest confusion regards whether the humans, who do seem to have some sort of empathic abilities at least, are actually communing with incorporeal beings/forces… and if so, why some humans seem able to commune with more than one, while other humans not at all.  Notable scholars have decided that the rituals and paraphernalia have nothing to do with the beings or forces being communed with, but muddied the matter by suggesting that the rituals may be important for a human’s ability to commune.  Alien non-scholars, eager to accommodate this new species and prove that space is nothing to be afraid of– nobody wants a repeat of the H’j’g’rcxin Xenophobia disaster– simply treat any and all religious requests as vital necessities for their human guests and crewmen.  Accommodation becomes so ordinary that when the first religious argument erupts between an engineer and a navigator, the biggest shock is that one of them objects to the other wearing a turban, something which does not affect work performance in any way.

Styling.  Alien species each have their own primary sense that they rely on, and when they find out that humans primarily rely on sight, well.  Reliant on sight means that surface patterns and colorings are particularly important to them, right?  They will have evolved to be individually distinctive in appearance?  New human crew are automatically assigned a mentor from another vision-reliant species, so someone will be able to tell them apart until the auditory and pheromone labels are attached to their uniforms.  Then Abby comes to mess with a new haircut and sparkly chapstick one day, and the mentor has no idea who she is or how she got aboard.

Word of Stabby the Space Roomba spreads, and soon every ship with a human captain or sufficiently high number of human crew has a Stabby.  Names vary, but most of them are Stabby.  One ship becomes low-key known for sending out broadcasts of Stabby McStabberson, son of Stabberson, son of Stabber, and its adventures stabbing juice boxes in zero-G.

Aesthetics.  Humans have a bewildering tendency to open starmaps or sneak into the scientific observation module at odd times, including with a mate or offspring, and just stare at open space.  Not even particular stars, although they like to study and talk about particular stars and clusters at times, but just, the whole of space.  Why do they do it?  Nobody knows.  Humans behave as though intoxicated during these times, but productivity lowers dramatically if they are barred access– if barring access even works in the first place, given humans’ seemingly endless ability to get into places where they aren’t supposed to be.

Fire.  Due to different atmospheric content, inability to heal from burns, or just plain never needing to cook their food, no alien species has ever utilized fire as a tool.  When humans say that learning to use fire may have been the start of their civilization, everybody believes that the humans are just talking a tough game to make up for their lower technology level, or– once they learn about human hierarchies– to compensate for a perceived lack of political status.  Then a human sees a catastrophic explosion on a hostile planet and laughs.  Then another shushes panicking engineers and smothers an accidental fire with some garments.  Then another builds a bonfire out of dead plantlife and a shredded religious document to warm an injured alien crewman after xir endothermic suit is punctured and the planet rotates away from its sun.  Humans– soft, cuddly, pack-bonds-even-with-inanimate-objects humans– are comfortably in control of the most terrifying force of disaster the galaxy has ever known.  Aliens stop being surprised that we nearly made ourselves extinct so many times in history.

“Why does your larval stage look so similar to your mature stage?  How do you know when a human is old enough to leave the Pit of Offspring?  Or to mate?”

Midoriya and his many parents

Not a Dream Daddy post.

 I’ve mentioned this briefly in Aizawa’s profile, but BnHA is just chock full of father figures. There’s a big emphasis on mentors and fatherhood, more so than in a lot of other manga and anime I follow.
Now, the idea of the ’sensei’ is fairly classic, the old master who teaches the young hero their secret technique and all that. But the young heroes in BnHA, with their high stakes environment, do have a lot of them.

 This is especially true for Midoriya.


 Inko Midoriya

Surely I’m not the only one who thinks it’s super interesting that we have not seen Midoriya’s biological father? Like… he wasn’t even on the couch watching the Sports Festival.

Considering his mother appears to be a house wife in a fairly nice apartment, I think it’s safe to assume that he at least exists. Maybe he’s a salaryman with a lot of overtime, more likely he’s working overseas.
Whatever the case, he’s very much an absent dad. 
Now, absentee parents aren’t that much of a deal in anime. The ‘16-year old living alone in Tokyo’ is a bit of a trope, after all, but here, with the emphasis on several characters parents, it feels like a statement. This is the manga in which we know the entire family set-up of Tsuyu, and the names and appearance of Jirou’s parents. Much as I love Jirou, she’s a side character.
For the main character to have a blank space like that, is a Thing. It means that growing up, Izuku had one parental figure, and that parental figure was his mother.

And give the woman credit: she did amazing.
It is not easy to raise a child practically by yourself. Certainly not a child that is considered an outcast by society. The amount of love Midoriya receives from his mother is heart-warming, their relationship is one of the better ones portrayed in shounen and as a result, Midoriya is a kid with an incredible amount of mental fortitude, capable of handling some pretty devastating circumstances.
His mother has been a supporting pillar in his early childhood, which, remember, was pretty rough on account of all the bullying. As such she has shaped a lot of his personality. She’s equipped him with confidence, with an unshakable belief in himself.
However, she is very much not a hero.

Her love is one of katsudon and hugs and kind words and worried tears. She wants him safe, above all else. She’s never going to teach him hand-to-hand and going by her advice alone will not make him into the hero he desperately wants to be.
Him quite literally leaving the warm nest she made for him to learn how to fight evil people is a big part of him growing up.


 All Might

Maybe that’s why Izuku puts so much of his hopes and dreams on All Might.
Here’s his ultimate hero taking an interest in little old him.
It’s a fairy tale. A manga trope.
And I really believe that he sees an alternate father figure in All Might once he gets closer to him. They have their wax on, wax off moment on the beach, with All Might encouraging him to get stronger. This is the trope. The sensei, mister Miyagi thing where the kid gets prepped to receive the ultimate technique (in the form of a lock of… hair, whatever).
But unlike traditional masters, and unlike his biological father, All Might sticks around. He is a presence in his life. He cares for Midoriya and his continued success in a way that, at this point, no other male figure does.

Dad Might gives Midoriya a whole bunch of very important advice, but it’s good to note that this isn’t a rough or distant sort of male mentorship.
All Might quite literally opens himself up to Midoriya.
He shows him his weaker side. The skeletal side. The broken side.
Because All Might, let’s not forget, is a friggin mess.

I mean, I know he’s going through a lot, but this man is Such a Dork. It’s definitely endearing and it is also one of his best traits as a character. However: as a person, he’s really not very well equipped to be raising a teenager. He lacks, in a way, the stability and level-headedness that comes with the position of a teacher.
He cares too much. About everything. All the time.
And he nurtures that side of Midoriya, when Midoriya already has plenty of that.

He can’t help but admire Midoriya’s selflessness. Can’t help but praise the very foundation upon which his own heroics are based: helping people.
When he saves Todoroki. When he saves Bakugou, All Might is there to tell Midoriya that what he did is all right.

And this is certainly important for Midoriya to hear, but at this point it’s also not the only thing he needs to hear. 


 Aizawa Shouta

Luckily Midoriya also gets a more traditional teacher figure.
It’s interesting to note that, despite being the younger of the two, and despite the fact that he sometimes teaches from an honest to god sleeping bag, Aizawa is a much more stable mentor and general Adulting Adult.
He still cares about his students, but he’s also much more likely to Act as a Teacher.

Because Aizawa immediately picks up on Izuku’s self-mutilation.
He watched the entrance exam, he knows that Izuku’s quirk is, at this point, extremely flawed. That Izuku doesn’t have control over it.
He explains it in a pretty standoffish way, and certainly this early in the show it comes across as cruel, but he’s not wrong.
Izuku is breaking bones every single time he uses his quirk at this point in time. If he does anything with his quirk, he’ll be a casualty.
Him using only a single finger is framed as a feat of intelligence,
but it is also INSANE.
'Oh you only broke one finger, you have nine attacks left’.
That is NOT a good plan. Don’t do that. For fuck’s sake.
I hope we all realize that what Midoriya is doing is Not Healthy.
He is eating away at himself, destroying his own body over and over again.

When Aizawa tells Midoriya to get a grip on his powers he’s not just being an ass. He’s being a responsible adult, a teacher that cares about the general well-being of the students assigned to him.

Manga spoilers under the cut.

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