first four words

That was all it took;
A blink, a breath,
And the world collapsed,
Endless and lethal.
I had always known
That monsters
Walked among us.

I never thought
They’d look like him.
—  poeticallyordinary
four word first impressions of anime

code geass: highly unrealistic leg standards

assassination classroom: really fast tentacle dude

fairy tail: omG JOIN MY GUILD

free!: wow this is gay

ouran high school host club: ok this is gayer


haikyuu: IM SHORT OH GOD

attack on titan: JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL

tokyo ghoul: TAKE IT FROM ME

black butler: LOL STEP ASIDE JESUS

hibike! euphonium: gayer than originally perceived

highlights of the author meetup w/ megan whalen turner

•"Gen, who has impulse control issues,“
•how she was determined to not write a book about a Quest and then ended up sort of writing book(s) about a Quest
•how she got into a fight with a friend one time about how to say “Avonlea” and wouldn’t say she was wrong for a long time, so we’re allowed to pronounce the names in her books however we want.
•”(it’s about) a Thief, who has bad impulse control,“
•Conspiracy of Kings is about Sophos learning to “put his big boy pants on”

The Magpie’s Song (Mama, I’m Coming Home) - Sandor/Sansa - M - One/?

– There’s not a soul out here save for himself and the dead men in the ground, and Sandor looks up at the bird over his head - the only possible cause of the song.

He supposes, for half a second that he could be imagining it. He had just been thinking of her, and of that memory in particular - the night she sang to him while the world had burned green and terrible. –

anonymous asked:

I've been learning how to read cyrillic, but I'm having a hard time finding resources on different fonts? Because even reading your handwriting it looks different than the text i usually see online. (also cursive cyrillic looks impossible please explain that)

OKAY SO first of all here’s the comparison of all the three fonts that work for cyrilic i have (plus italic, some letters look a bit different so i’m including it just in case):

tbh that’s about all the information i can give you on fonts, so now let’s go to cursive!!

now, that’s what russian cursive is supposed to look like: 

it’s how children are taught to write (there are a few variations of some of the letters, it depends on the educational program that schools choose, the differences are very small though, and this is the most common type), and handwriting like this usually lasts up until the end of elementary school, and then everyone decides to get creative. it means that there are no rules anymore, and kids start trying out new ways to write letters, plus most people try to write faster so some elements of cursive letters get changed. and as a result most people have handwriting that is based on the ‘traditional’ cursive but is actually a mixture of.. well. everything.

i wouldn’t say hopping straight to reading russian cursive, especially if it’s written by a regular person who really doesn’t care if others can understand their handwriting at all (like me!) is impossible, but i wouldn’t say it’s the best idea. first of all, you have to learn to write in cursive - if you understand how everything works it will be a lot easier to read. of course, the bigger your vocabulary is, the easier it is, but still, it shouldn’t stop you from trying :D

an example of text written in ‘correct’ cursive:

examples of text written in… something else:

well… hopefully that clears things out a bit! :D good luck!! <3

anonymous asked:

Hello! I was recently drawn to your blog because your Actor!Au, and I love it! Are you gonna do an Actor au for Episode Prompto? I thirst for your AUs,,,,,,

I jotted this down real quick just now. Inspiration struck, and this is the outcome. More Actor!AU because, why not?

Episode Prompto Spoiler Warning!

Tagging: @alicemoonwonderland @neko-otaku13 @ponkita @coffeepainkillers @crazykruemel 

Prompto raised his gun towards the ceiling and pulled the trigger, his gaze turned down from the half-man in front of him. “Shut up!” He heaved a breath, his body shaking and his eyes burning. “You’re wrong. I’m a Lucian! I am not one of your experiments!”

Verstael didn’t miss a beat, growling out his words as he stepped closer to Prompto. “Not anymore. Now, you’re nothing but a failure.” He paid no heed to the way Prompto grit his teeth together, nor the agony clear in his eyes, nor the way he curled into himself. “I ought to return you whence you came. Perhaps then you might serve some useful purpose.”

Prompto’s head shot up as soon as he saw boots in his vision. “Never!” He yelled, stepping back and aiming his gun. His hands shook as he watched his father step ever closer.

Verstael cackled, the daemonic taint spreading more thickly across his face, his voice no longer sounding like his own. “With your help, my ascension to divinity is now all but complete. Soon, neither the kings of Lucis nor the gods themselves will be able to challenge my reign!” He clasped Prompto’s shoulder in an iron grip, ignoring the horrified look on the gunner’s face. 

Prompto screamed as Verstael came ever closer, his corrupted hand reaching out to touch his face in a gesture that was anything but gentle. Prompto took aim and, after one moment of hesitation, pulled the trigger of his gun and shot his father – no, this daemon in the face.

Verstael staggered back, arms falling open. His breath left him in one long, stuttering gasp and he fell backward, his body beginning to evaporate into a black miasma. 

Prompto watched speechlessly, stumbling forward. His eyes stung again as his gun clattered to the floor. He followed soon after, falling to his knees, unable to tear his eyes from the scene before him. 

He didn’t react when a gasp rang out over the speakers above him. “Look what you’ve done!” Ardyn continued in false shock. “You’ve gone homicidal – no, patricidal!”

Prompto’s eyes widened. “No…” he protested weakly, shaking his head. 

Ardyn continued on. “You lose your friends and murder your family. Now you’ve no one left!” Any pity in his tone, whether sincere or otherwise, melted when he began laughing.

Prompto curled into himself, leaning closer to the ground. “Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He pounded his fist against the floor, tears streaking down his cheeks. 

SCENE!” The shout sliced through the air. The director stood, moving around and beginning preparations for the next segment. “Alright, good job! Take five.”

Prompto stood, sniffling. He startled when he was immediately pulled into a hug, a head of raven hair on the edge of his vision. 

“Prompto, what the hell?” Noctis pulled back, gripping Prompto’s shoulders tightly. “What the hell! I’m crying! You made me cry! Prompto!” He shook his fellow actor, grinning. “You’re amazing!”

Prompto gave a small smile back, wiping his eyes and chuckling lightly. “Thanks, man.”

it’s 1:37am and i was letting my mind wander and i remembered how i love hickeys. i love how they’re so territorial and how bruises can represent love and i thought about how i want you to give me one. i thought about that for a while and then i remembered her telling me you gave her one and her showing it off and now i’m nauseous and my heart’s in my stomach.
—  go easy on me

osnapitzhanaa  asked:

You wanted rare pairs okay uhm Seungchuchu and "You always this quiet "

this is inspired by love language :) (four word prompts)

The boy who takes a seat next to him at the bus stop is loud. At least, he looks loud. His hands are expressive, moving in round gestures and waving this way and that as he chatters away into his cellphone. His eyes crinkle in amusement at some point, in response to whatever funny thing the person at the other end has told him, and Seunggil realizes he’s probably staring. Actually he’s definitely staring, if the sideways glance the boy shoots him is any indication.

Staring is rude, he’s learned.

His eyes tear away and try to re-focus on the book in his hands. He’s halfway down the page when he realizes he’s not actually read anything. He grumbles, but before he can restart, there’s a finger tapping his shoulder.

He startles and catches the tail-end of a sentence the boy is saying. “Uh, sorry?” Seunggil asks. He tries to ignore the irrational guilt and embarrassment that shoots through him every time he has to ask someone to repeat themselves. 

Fortunately, the boy takes it all in stride. “You always this quiet?” his lips seem to read. He’s so expressive, eyebrows jumping on his forehead and his upper body pressing weight on his right arm as he leans toward Seunggil. “I see ya here a lot.”

It takes Seunggil a beat to form a response. “You do?”

“Malcolm Gladwell boy who takes the five-thirty downtown,” the boy says, gesturing at The Tipping Point in Seunggil’s hands. He brightens and reaches into the pocket of his basketball shorts. “But I’m glad I caught you now. You dropped this last week. I tried calling to you but you were boarding the bus and then the doors closed.”

He drops the earphones into Seunggil’s lap when he takes too long just looking at him. “Um. Thank you,” Seunggil mumbles.

“You’re welcome,” the boy says. He winks. “Bet you missed it, huh? You were always listening away…” He grins. “What’s your favorite song?”

Seunggil has to look away. “It’s nothing special…” When he summons the courage to look back up, he struggles to catch the words in time again. “Sorry?”

“I wanna hear,” the boy repeats, bright smile not breaking once.

Seunggil stares at him again. Wordlessly, he plugs the earphones into the jack on his phone and offers him one earbud. His mouth quirks up like he’s squealing, and he scootches closer, presses himself against Seunggil’s side as he sticks the earbud in one ear.

Everything about him is so loud, and Seunggil wonders if the traffic around them weren’t so bad if maybe he’d actually catch the sound of this guy’s voice. Seunggil understands a bit better now, the concept of loudness, after it became lost to him so long ago that he forgets when it was exactly that he stopped being able to hear.

(October 27th. The ringing started. November 13th. Diagnosis complete.)

(But that’s neither here nor there.)

Seunggil is a bit of a masochist, maybe, and he watches with morbid fascination as the boy’s smile fades from his face as he realizes nothing’s playing through the earphones.

“It’s nothing special,” Seunggil tells him again. He moves to take back the earbud but a hand stops him, trails down his arm to lace their fingers together and squeeze.

“I wanna hear,” the boy repeats also, and his smile is back, his smile is the same if not brighter, and this time Seunggil doesn’t bother watching his lips as the boy starts talking about something else. Seunggil’s hand is still in his, and he catches words like “hamster” “viral” and a word that he doesn’t recognize, something that shapes itself like the word “worry.” He’s a bit too busy processing everything else, though; the laugh dimples in the boy’s cheek, the way he pushes his fringe to the side every few minutes just for it to sweep back into his eyes again. 

This is how the boy speaks and gradually, Seunggil relaxes against the boy’s side, and listens. 

Friends on the Other Side

The Isle had many quirks that most would find pretty disturbing if not outright disgusting. The way the sun never seemed to shine through the dense fog or the fact that the air always tasted slightly of iron; may it be from the exposed pipes or from the “questionable” dark stains that sometimes covered the walls in the small island. On good days, it reeked slightly of sweat and hot garbage. On the bad, well, there’s really no point on wasting time talk about literal waste, is there?

All these little details made the Isle an endearing home for those who lived there. Like the fungus that grew on almost every surface, it grew on its inhabitants. Forcefully. With a sledge hammer. Or a wand if you want to be technical.

In the twenty-some years that the Isle had first come to be, no one had managed to escape. Not even the toughest or the scariest of the lot could find a way to stick a single toe across the barrier that kept them trapped inside. It wasn’t until six months ago when the new king of the United States of Auradon proclaimed a new “project” of sorts to integrate the children of villains into their high society of pampered poodles. Only after the first four, no word had come back about taking in any more kids. Figures.

Most grew angry, bitter at the small speck of hope they offered before brutally crushing the dreams of the few handful of kids who wanted nothing more than to be chosen next. It was all they showed on tv or played on the radio stations in the Isle. Mal, Jay, Evie, and Carlos getting everything; all the food and clothes they could want and even a damned education that didn’t involve a basic how to on spiking a stranger’s drink. They were supposedly the worst of the new generation of villains yet they were the first to be rewarded refuge?

The hate and resentment that laid dormant for so long within the children festered. Gangs regrouped and violence resurfaced tenfold. At first it was a ploy to get attention from the other side to remind them there were still kids here, waiting. But still nothing came out of it. Even after a short outbreak of a terrible illness that swept through the Isle did nothing to hurry them along. But even then, it was the people in the Isle who were called cold hearted and vicious.

And yet, seeing three of the four traitors did nothing but bring a cold smile on Frank’s face.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Frank laughed. The teen leaned against the wall, relishing as the four turned their heads every which way searching for her. Besides the slight tan and a little weight gain, the three seemed to have gained, they looked just about the same as before they left.

They looked good. “Out of all the fun surprises I expected today, this was not one of them! And Carlos, my boy! Did you grow an inch?”

“I’m not your anything,” Carlos called out on reflex.

“Show yourself,” Jay said at the same time. Frank laughed but did as he asked anyways. She smiled when the four turned in her direction, looking perplexed as the shadows seemed to move with her.

“Frankie,” Evie greeted with a hesitant nod.

“Oh none of that sugar, we old friends aren’t we?” Frank extended her arms, an invitation for a hug but soon dropped them when no one moved to embrace her. “Well, that’s a bit rude. Woulda thought them Auradonians or whatever would have taught you all a speck of kindness.”

“Frank,” Jay said with an irritated sigh. The teen cocked her head to the side, wondering what has got them so wound up before her attention settled on the one boy she did not completely recognize. His clothing screamed Isle but his stance said something entirely different. At first Frank waved him off as one of Uma’s quieter lackys. She seemed to gain a new one every minute so Frank gave up on trying to remember who’s with who. It wasn’t until the bra shifted closer into the light that it hit Frank why he looked so familiar.

“Hold the phone, boo,” Frank said, her tone dropping from her almost warm tilt to an icier one. “This whole time I’ve been thinking the King would take us little folk to his side of town, not the otha’ way around.”

“Not by choice, I assure you—” the King tried to say before Frankie lifted one hand to stop him.

“It be nobodies choice to come here, I assure you,” she mocked. “What, here to handpick the next little ones for your project? If so, I can point my finger at any direction for you to start looking.”

“U-um no, that won’t be needed, thank you. We are actually here for—”

“My mistake then, however, if I may ask, when exactly will the next group be chosen. Forgive me but some people have grown… impatient as you could imagine.” The King looked pained at her question. The tension between the five thickened as the other four shifted uncomfortably. A moment of silence passed before Frankie nodded in understanding. “I see.”

“No, no! I swear I was planning on crossing more kids over! It’s just—”

“Your majesty,” Frankie sneered, effectively cutting off the boy once again. The other three Isle kids looked about ready to jump to his defense but a quick look from Frank had them backing off. “I knew I shouldn’t ‘ave gotten excited about yous new decree but I did. Same with plenty a other children down here on this island. You know we got about six working telly and radio channels here and all of them is about you. About yous and Mal going on dates, fining and dining the most luxurious of meals with them heroes we youngins have somehow wronged just by being born. Even planning a fabulous party with every last one of them; we heard all about that too. Well, you can imagine we have grown a little sour at being forgotten.”

Frankie relished in the shame that crossed on each of their faces. She had grown with the idea of revenge tasting as sweet as the southern tea her father told her about once. Though as quick as that feeling came, it didn’t last long. This particular flavor of tea turned out more bitter than sweet. She shook her head and stepped back away from the King. She didn’t even notice herself advance towards him in the first place.

“You should go,” Frankie whispered. “Before Uma or one of hers figures out y'all are here.”

“We can’t leave without Mal,” the King bravely said, though Frankie did catch a slight quiver in his voice. Good, he got the message.

“Mal is here too, huh,” Frankie mused. “Figures all that commotion would be her.”

“What do you mean? Did you see where she went?” Evie asked. Frankie sighed and crossed her arms. She definitely saw where Mal went. She hadn’t known or cared much on who the devil on the purple steed was before and she couldn’t care less now. She gave them an unimpressed stare before rolling her eyes and turning her back.

“That information is something I cannot give.”

“Cannot or will not?” Carlos asked for clarification.

“Either? Both? Take your pick.” Frank knew she was being petty but the last thing she wanted to do was help them. The more she heard their voices the more she wanted to shout and scream, however, she wasn’t inclined to have the sort of attention that usually attracted after making too much noise.

“That’s fine,” the King said quickly before calling the former three Isle kids back. “That’s fine. Thank you, Frankie.” The sincerity in the King’s voice made Frank pause. That kind of kindness is something you could not fake plus, Frankie had never had anyone thank her before. Frank inwardly groaned as she turned to the four as the made their way down the alley, carefully sidestepping anything that would make a sound. It’s been months since Evie, Carlos, and Jay were on the Isle. They definitely wouldn’t know about the new traps that laid around these parts.

On one hand, if they were caught, Frankie knew they wouldn’t blab on her for not alerting anyone of their arrival. Which would be bad. They would be out of her hair and none of her concern but even Frankie wasn’t mean enough to let a stray puppy get itself killed, especially one with such a sweet face. That and if they, more so the King, left the Isle soon and went back to Auradon, her chances of being chosen may raise if the King owed her a favor or two.

“Wait,” she called, her face pulled as though in pain. The four turned to her in confusion and, to Frank’s displeasure, slight smugness. Those turds. “Don’t go that way.”

“Frankie?” The King asked unsurely.

“Yall havent seen the type of things hidden in the darker corners of this rat trap. They built some fancy new do dabs that almost ripped off my pa’s leg once. Some bastardized contraptions built from things found in De Vil’s tree home.” Carlos winced noticeably at that to which Frankie nodded. She gestured towards the opposite direction before walking away. Frank didn’t have to turn around to know the others were following her.

Despite the King never living on the Isle like the rest of them, he did a rather good job in staying as incognito as any other thug in training. Though there were a couple of times Frank or Jay had to push and pull him in the right direction. Nonetheless, the King would had made a fine henchman given the chance. That’s to say, if he worked a little on his arms. Damn noodles seemed sway in every direction when he moved.

“Your purple demon was lucky,” Frankie finally whispered.

“Mal? What do you mean?”

“She sped past here so fast, nothing had a chance to even nip at her ankles. That bike of hers sure is something.”

As they made their way towards the center of the Isle, Frank couldn’t help but notice how the four other teens moved together in sync. She was impressed with how the King was able to fit in with them as flawlessly as if he were Mal herself. It was no wonder why these guys were quick to warm up to him. Again Frankie stamped down the jealousy that arose in her. She never was one to accept or be accepted quickly. Even on the Isle where friends was a no-no there was still some type of camaraderie within the masses. Frankie, however, didn’t have that. Even Dizzy, the friendliest kid in the Isle acted weird around her.

She only had herself and her shadows for company and that was fine with her. Sorta.

“So Frankie,” Evie huffed as she hurried over to run beside her. “Anything new happen while we were gone?” Frankie considered the question for a moment. There was a lot she could say. She just didn’t know how to say it.

“You bet it did,” Frankie muttered. “You three changed the game.”

“What do you mean?” Jay asked. Frankie scowled back at him; she hadn’t noticed him approach.

“I mean what I say. After yous four gave up the wand, people back home got antsy. Saying they was gonna be the next ones to go and do your jobs. Pa told me if I got picked and did what you four did, he’d find a way to cross that barrier just to throttle me one last time before he got our friends to finish the job.” Frankie shuddered. She had no doubt that her pa would figure something out given the chance. “It’s a free for all now, people joining any gang just to stay alive.”

“That’s terrible,” the King muttered, horrified. The change of rhythm their feet made as they criss crossed around the dark alleys quickened. No doubt the others, including Frankie herself, wanting to put as much distance from others as fast as possible.

“I heard talk of Yen Sid getting worried too,” Frankie said thoughtfully. “He be sending messages every week now instead of once a month. Don’t think he be getting any replies either though.” Frankie didn’t expect for the King to reply to that. Which was the point of mentioning that last bit as the boy had the horrible knack of fraying her nerves. Just because he was cute and nice meant that Frankie was going to forgive the fool so quickly. Or at all for that matter.

“What about our parents?” Carlos hastily asked. That question made Jay and Evie stop in their place, causing the King to run straight into their backs. Frank looked back at the sudden noise and quickly shushed them all before pulling them into a dark corner when she thought she heard someone walk towards them. Frank bit her lip once the coast was officially cleared. She didn’t know how to answer that question either.

“Well,” Frankie started awkwardly. “With the big bad dragon gone, her goons just kinda linger around, not knowing what to do. I don’t see much of Miss De Vil but I heard from others that she doesn’t leave Hell Hall much but when she does… well, you could say mister Hook needed a new hook.”

“As for Jafar, he and my pa were on not good terms before because Jafar been taking things from his shop and vice versa. A few days after the wand fiasco Jafar comes over like his ass was on fire and destroyed my pa’s shop thinkin we took some of his. No one bothers him much nows.”

“And the Queen,” here Frankie paused for a moment. She glanced at the four kids staring at her intently before looking down at the ground. She hated playing messenger. “She don’t do nothing.”

“My mom? What do you mean she 'doesn’t do anything’?” Evie pressed.

“She don’t do nothing,” Frankie stressed out. “She won’t come out or even talk no more. Like a ghost. No one mess with her either. No fun when there’s no fight I hear.”

Evie looked close to tears as Jay pulled her into a tight hug. Even Carlos looked upset which was more than a bit shocking as Frank heard stories of Cruella treating her boy like nothing more than a slave. The girl looked away from the three teens. Showing this much emotion was another no no on the Isle but she figured they needed a little time to get a hold of themselves without a judging eye. Instead she looked at the King who merely appeared shocked at the news. Seeing as he wasn’t going to say anything to lighten up the frustration, Frankie quickly suggested they move again less they be caught by someone who held a grudge; which, honestly, was pretty much everyone on the island.

“That’s why we’re going through the back streets,” Jay concluded angrily. “So you don’t get caught with us. Or maybe you’re just leading us straight into the thick of the mob, huh?” Frankie’s eyes flashed with vindication. This is what she gets for helping? She snarled and moved to slam her fist in Jay’s stupid face but a someone pulled her back.

“Stop,” the King yelped. “I’m sure that’s not true, Jay.”

“You don’t know her like we do, Ben,” Jay hissed. “She’s Facilier’s kid. I thought it was weird she’d help us out without making some sort of deal. We shouldn’t have trusted her in the first place. She’s jealous we made it out and she didn’t. She’s nothing more than a con with a plan. Just. Like. Her. Dad.”

“Fuck you, man,” Frankie spat. She jerked her arm out of the King’s grip before shoving Jay as hard as she could. Jay didn’t look affected as he swung out his arm to catch Frank on the side of her head but the girl merely ducked and body tackled the taller teen onto the ground. Frankie heard the other three yelp and move out of their way as they rolled around the cobblestone ground, landing as many hits as they could before Frankie felt herself being lifted off the thief, or former thief now, entirely.

“That’s enough,” the King growled at them both. Frankie tried to pull herself out of his hold but the other teen kept a tight grip against her arms. It took both the effort of Evie and Carlos to hold back Jay. Frankie growled but eventually stopped struggling. This wasn’t worth the effort. Ben held her for another minute, making sure she was calm enough before letting go. He kept his hands hovered over the smaller teen for a moment just to be sure before stepping back completely.

“This was a mistake,” Frankie spat before turning her heel and walking away.

“Yeah,” Jay responded just as viciously. “It was.”

Frankie shook her head angrily. Just as she was about to turn the corner, she stopped. She wasn’t going to let Jay have the last words. She had genuinely tried, but even then it wasn’t enough. What made it worse was that Jay, someone who had been in her exact position for the last six months couldn’t put past his own prejudices.

“The way you four was heading was directly in the path of Jafar’s shop. His regulars hang out around that alley and no doubt would have told your pa for a quick buck. There’s also Uma’s gang you need to worry about. Her gang has grown, about a quarter of Shan Yu’s old troop, all armed with swords. The traps are real and are about the size of the palm of my hand. Tiny things can blow your arm off, I told you. That and not to mention nearly everyone on this island would love to get back at you all for the wand fiasco couple months back,” Frankie cast one last angry look at the four before pointing at a dented sign hanging above them. “We’re here by the way. I’m sure you remember how to use it.”

“Frankie!” The teen stopped mid step and turned her head towards the King, a deep frown still on her face. “Thanks.”

A few hours had passed since Frankie had seen the King and the three Isle traitors. Frank could feel bruises blossoming across her body. Luckily most could be hidden under her clothes however she still had to come up with an excuse for the one on her cheek bone. That is, if her father even cared to ask.

The teen huffed as she expertly shuffled a deck of cards in her hands. She glanced around the not too busy street for someone to play a game of cards with. There weren’t too many people on the Isle who chose to play with her. Everyone claimed she cheated; which was completely true but so did they, not as good as her obviously but they still did.

Frankie frowned down at her cards. Her deck of fifty-two were compiled from three different decks. She merely covered the backs with a thin layer of duct tape to hide their differences. The edges were frayed and the ink was faint but for the life of her, Frankie could not find good enough replacements. Looking at her shabby cards now and thinking about the group she had helped earlier left a acidic taste in her mouth. Life sucked.

“Hello, Frankie,” A voice drawled above her. Frankie glanced up with her eyes before looking back down at her deck. She shuffled the cards before dealing them out; two face up, two face down.

“Harry,” she greeted disinterestedly before looking up at the boy with a slight smirk. “Up for a game?” Harry shrugged before lifting the cards slightly with his hook.

“Hit.” Frankie placed a card face up. Harry smirked down at the cards before looking straight into Frankie’s eyes. “Twenty.”

“Natural,” Frankie replied immediately as she flipped all the cards face up to show the other the game.


“Always,” she dralwed. “What brings you over to my casino, Hook?”

“Uma want’s to see you,” Harry replied. He crouched down so he was face to face with the girl, a devilish smirk still playing on his lips. “And I’m afraid this time she won’t take no for an answer.”

“I ain’t interested in joining her crew, Hook.”

“We know. This is different and I’m sure you’d love to hear about it. We gained a new friend today. A royal friend.” Frankie’s mouth twitched into a frown before she could stop herself. Inwardly she screamed at herself for the tell as she saw Hook’s smirk grow into a wide grin. She shrugged, hoping for Harry to catch on that she didn’t care. If they really had the King and he squealed to them about her, she’d kill him herself. Though she didn’t worry too much, the King looked like a smart boy. He’d know better than to talk.

“Harry,” Frankie finally said. “You seem to be under the impression that I care.”

“Oh, of course not,” He practically sang. “Except that you should.”


“See, we know Mal is back on the island. We also know her crew is here too and guess who Gil saw leaving them in front of Maleficent’s old home?”

Double shit. Frankie huffed as Harry used his hook to trace the dark bruise on her cheek, the metal cold against the throbbing heat on her face. The fight must have been loud enough for someone to find them and of all people it had to be Gil to see it. The little shit would do anything to get on Uma and Harry’s good side.

“Let’s go,” Harry ordered as he pulled Frankie up from the old crate she used as a seat, the cards in her hand clattered on the floor. He held her arm at a vice grip as he dragged her down to the wharf, not caring if his hand left a mark or if Frankie was literally tripping over things and people to follow him. Luckily the trip wasn’t too far. They had used the main streets to get there after all. Frankie glared at everyone who looked at them; she should have stayed inside the shop today.

The crew laughed and cheered as they climbed onto the deck of the ship, Uma standing proudly in front of them all with her arms crossed against her chest. Frankie rolled her eyes at the power display before quickly glancing around for the King. Seeing him tied up on the ship’s mast did little to ease Frankie’s anxiety. He would be no help whatsoever in his current predicament.

“Frankie,” Uma called, her lips turned down into a little pout. “I thought we were friends.”

“Uhh, no,” Frankie said playing innocent. “I don’t got any of those. Fresh out.”

“Obviously, I mean look at you,” Uma said with a laugh. “Though to be fair I did offer you a spot on my crew.”

“You sure did. I also remember saying no,” Frankie leaned her top half towards Uma as though telling her a secret. “To tell you the truth, I get sea sick.”

“Well if we are telling each other the truth, how about you tell us another,” Uma shouted, hyping up the rest of her crew. The gang laughed and started to tap their swords on the deck. The ominous sound made Frankie inwardly cringe. This was bad. “You can trust us. Do you know him?”

Uma pointed at the King and Frankie begrudgedly turned to look at the teen tied to the mast. The crew were still stabbing their swords against the deck, taunting her to speak but Frankie kept her mouth shut. The King didn’t seem to know who to look at; her, Uma, or Harry’s hook that rested against her neck.

“Ok,” Uma finally said with an understanding nod. “I see you’re a shy one. I’ll just ask… King Ben.” the King looked startled at being named outright and jerked to attention. His eyes were blown wide as he frantically looked back and forth between the two girls.

“Ben, do you know this girl?” Uma asked kindly. “It’s ok to tell us. Making friends is a good thing, right?”

“No,” Ben finally said, his voice full of determination. “I don’t know her.” Uma nodded thoughtfully before looking back at Frankie. She stepped forward and gently twirled a piece of Frank’s curly hair in her finger.

“Well that wasn’t so hard, was it? I heard telling the truth to a group of friends made you feel good,” Uma said she yanked her hand away roughly and sneering at Frankie. “And since you don’t know her, then you wouldn’t be bothered if she went for a little swim! Harry!”

Harry sighed contently before he bellowed out a loud laugh. The hook against her neck was removed but before Frankie could so much move, a pair of arms hugged her from her middle, trapping her own arms against her sides.

“Aye, Aye Captain!”

Frankie’s eyes widened, her heart leapt to her chest as she fought against the other’s hold. She kicked her legs out and beat her arms against Harry’s chest but mourned internally as nothing seemed to affect him. The crew cheered them on, stepping aside as Harry walked towards the plank with her still captive in his arms. The teen grunted in pain as she was unceremoniously dropped on top of the plank, the bruises on her knees throbbing from the sudden collision. She shakily stood on her two feet and carefully turned towards the crew and Uma.

“Uma!” Ben shouted over the noise. “Don’t do this!”

“I don’t understand, your majesty,” Uma responded innocently as she inspected her nails uncaringly. “I thought you said you didn’t know her. Why do you care?”

“I do care! She’s still a person!”

“She’s from the Isle,” Uma said, finally looking at the King. Ben turned his focus on Frankie and watched as tears gathered in her eyes however she held them back as she glared hatefully at every one of the crew members jabbing their swords toward her. “People from Auradon don’t care about people from the Isle.”

“I do! I do care! I messed up! Forget this and I’ll fix everything!” Ben shouted. Harry jumped onto the railing of the ship expertly. The sudden movement making the plank and consequently Frankie wobble precariously He pointed his sword at Frank, forcing the girl to take a hesitant step back. “UMA!”

“Can’t hear you,” Uma sang.

“I know her!” Ben finally shouted. “I know Frankie!” Uma smirked down at her hand before loudly snapping her fingers once. Immediately all the noise the crew was making died down, well all except one.



Harry growled as he sheathed his sword and roughly pulled Frankie off the plank. The girl couldn’t catch herself in time from the sudden movement and fell onto the deck with a loud thud. She gave a shuddering breath as she looked back at the King, her face contorted in pain.

“Now was that so hard?” Uma cooed as she looked down at Frankie’s falled form. She stared down at her for a moment, ignoring the downright murderous expression the other girl sent her before snapping her fingers twice and pointing at the mast. There was no hesitation in following her silent order as three kids managed to roughly tie Frankie to the mast besides the boy King. Frank didn’t bother trying to squirm away this time.

“I’m so sorry,” the King whispered to her. Frankie didn’t look at him and stared at the barely visible barrier that flickered occasionally in the horizon. “Frankie.”

“Stop,” she whispered back harshly. “Just stop.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” the King forcefully continued. He leaned his head back, exposing his neck for everyone around him. He didn’t try to speak much after that. The two watched as the crew walked around the deck, most impatient for some reason or another. It wasn’t until the King had enough of waiting when he finally brought Uma’s attention back on himself. Frankie let the two of them speak; She had nothing to say to the sea witch’s daughter. The King, however, was a different story.

“She’s right, you know,” Frankie finally said after Uma had turned her back. “Uma. She has the right to be mad.”

“I know,” the King replied hoarsely.

“They’re all mad. Me too. I didn’t think I could hate someone as much as I hate you and everyone else on the other side.” Frankie gave a shuddering laugh and shook her head slightly. “I wanted to leave this place so bad. I wanted what Mal and the others had. I was so… excited— for such a long time. Waiting for my invitation. Or for anyones invitation for that matter but nothing ever came. I told myself that I didn’t care no more. That I never cared, but who was I kiddin’? You tried to play Pan’s shadow and let me tell you, boo, I left my window wide open and nothing came out of it! For all the bad they teach us down here, I don’t think anyone here would be able to pull off something as vicious as what you did.”

“I-I’m sorry,” the King repeated, this time with more emotion. Frankie paused for a moment before finally looking up at the King beside her.

“Ain’t no apology gon’ fix this, your majesty.” The two fell silent once more. Neither wanting to be the first to speak after something like that. Frankie even dozed off for a while but was rudely awakened when the ropes around her began to shift. Her head snapped up and quickly turned toward the King but Harry was already pulling him away. The ropes tightened around her once again, causing her to groan slightly from the force put behind it.

Frankie tried to ignore the crew’s boisterous shouts as she looked around for whatever was causing all the commotion. She finally found it at the bridge to the ship in the form of the once all powerful, or at least the daughter of the “all powerful”, standing toe to toe with Uma. The two squared off, Mal only sparing a single glance in the King’s and, too Frankie’s surprise, her direction. Frankie leaned forward as far as the ropes allowed in order to see what Mal was holding in her grasp. She couldn’t make out what it was exactly but Frankie couldn’t help but feel ridiculous knowing they were squaring off over a fancy stick.

“The wand,” Uma said in lieu of greeting.

“Give me Ben first,” Mal said. “And Frankie.”

“What?” Frankie whispered in shock. No one heard her but no one needed to as almost every head swiveled towards her in surprise.

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Uma laughed. “The wand for the King.”

“Huh,” Mal laughed, though there was no humor behind it. “You know me. I always want more.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Uma snarled. “Hand over the wand.”

“Ben and Frankie first.” Uma sighed in annoyance before snapping her fingers. Harry was quick to drag the King over to the two but Gil seemed to have a little trouble figuring out the ropes holding Frankie down.

“Watch it,” Frankie yelped when the other teen’s blade got too close to her arm.

“Whoops.” Once free from the mast, Frankie was dragged forward, the squeaking from her boots as they dragged across the wooden floorboards awkwardly filling the silence that fell upon the whole group. Mal nodded contently once both teens were in her reach. Frankie felt Gil’s hands slowly let go of her arms before a sudden shout from Uma made him pull her back once more.

“Wait!” the captain shouted. “Test it first.”

“Always was one for dramatics,” Mal muttered.

“And nothing big or Ben here gets to swim with the sharks,” she warned. Mal didn’t look at all worried as she quickly glanced behind her to her gang. Frankie was pleased to note she brought Jay, Evie, and Carlos with her; along with another girl she didn’t recognize. However, the spell of relief shattered when she realized Uma’s crew still outnumbered them nearly two to one. Frankie caught Jay’s gaze and held it for a moment before subtly nodding in his direction. If there was going to be a fight, which she could feel that there was, their current bad blood would not help them in anyway. Luckily, Jay seemed to catch on and returned the gesture. Frankie then turned to Mal and watched as she toyed with the wand in her hand. The purplette turned and leaned on the railing, her eyes trained on some random mutt watching them from the ramp above. Frankie watched in bated breath as the other girl considered him for a second before pointing the wand at the pup.

“I know this sounds absurd, but turn this bark into a word,” Mal chanted before flicking the wand in some fancy pattern. Frankie actually recognized her father doing a few times before when he was deep in thought. It must have been a reflex because she was sure he didn’t even realize he was doing it. She never dared to ask him about it though. It was better to have some things unspoken in their household. Frankie and the rest of the teen’s present watched, simultaneously holding their breaths as they waited for something to happen. After a few seconds of silence, Mal seemed to get agitated as she regarded the dog once more. “Talk, dog.”

“Does this vest make me look fat?” Frankie blinked in shock, taken aback by the very human like voice that came out of the dogs mouth, er, muzzle. “Does anyone have any bacon?”

“Ha!” Uma laughed joyously before turning to Mal with a determined look on her face. “Give me the wand!” she demanded.

“Give me Ben!” Mal shouted back immediately afterwards.

“And Frankie!” the King was quick to add. Frankie couldn’t hold back a snort at that. It was pretty awkward being involved in so much drama. It would have been funnier too if she hadn’t almost been forced to walk the plank earlier; which was why she felt so awkward honestly.

“Cut him lose,” Uma ordered, not once looking away from the wand still in Mal’s hand.

“I never get to have any fun,” Harry muttered as he did what he was told. Frankie held her breath for the second it took for them all to figure out how the trade was going down. Just as Mal thrusted her hand holding the wand forward towards Uma, Frankie felt Gil pushing her from behind her. The teen nearly tripped forward but managed to catch herself on the railing with a little help from Evie’s steadying hand.

“Are you alright,” she muttered as she quickly pulled Frankie off the ship’s ramp.

“Never better,” she gasped out. Evie nodded before pulling her towards the stairs quickly. Frankie followed without hesitation and only sped up when she heard Uma’s shout of frustration behind her.

“Run now, Ben!” She heard Mal cry out. Unfortunately The teens didn’t get too far before Uma’s crew managed to escape the bright smoke that erupted in front of them before they were swinging their swords in their faces. Frankie yelped as on pirate swung their blade inches from her face. She would have been killed if not for the sudden instinct to duck her head at the last second.

“Frank!” The girl kicked her attacker in the chest before whipping around to face Jay. A short warning followed by a saber being thrown to her was all she got before she was suddenly stuck in a parry with one of Uma’s mates. The teen growled in her face, causing Frankie to lean back in disgust when a bit of spit flew out of his mouth. The teen huffed in agitation as she then ducked under the boy, using his weight to throw him over her shoulder and over the docks railing.

Frankie had no chance to recover from the short fight before another one of Uma’s goons was right on top of her. She quirked a quick smirk at the raging teenager, tossing her saber up before catching it in her left hand. Not one to be baited so casually, the new component rushed Frank with her sword extended to the sky. Frankie stood still, her saber posed upwards in front of her, right until the other girl reached her and swung down at Frankie’s head. Frank spun around the other girl, landing behind her, before kicking the back of her knees. She didn’t waste second after the other girl fell to the ground and slammed the hilt of her sabor on her attackers neck, knocking her out instantly.

“Hey! We gotta go!” Someone shouted from behind her. Frankie spun and gave the girl who came with Mal and the others a thoughtful look. The teen nodded and grabbed her extended hand, gasping in surprise as the other girl easily pulled her up to the next platform. Frank considered asking the girl her name but even she knew it probably wasn’t the best time for introductions. Just as the two girls were about to leave the warp via industrial pipe, another mini pirate in training jumped out right in front of them. He growled at the two girls as he pointed a sword at each of them. In return, the girl and Frankie shared a bored look. Sure wielding two swords looked cool but even someone without any experience using them could tell that the weight was seriously throwing the other teen off.

“I got this,” the girl muttered to Frankie. Frank only shrugged and took a step back, content with watching the new girl play with the pirate teen. She had to hand it to the princess, though. The way she moved and baited the guy was hilarious. The girl didn’t bother using her saber besides blocking once or twice. Instead she stayed an inch out of the pirates swings, easily dodging every move he threw at her.

“Impressive,” Frankie laughed.

“Thanks!” the girl said without missing a beat. “I’m Lonnie, by the way!”


“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Frankie.”

“…Same to you, I guess.” It didn’t take very much conversation for the pirate to listen to before he grew agitated by the seemingly uncaring way Lonnie fought him. He finally abandoned one of his swords in favor of dealing heavier attacks. Now Frankie could see the fight was finally a fair one. Too bad no one cared about “fairness” on the Isle. With the guy’s back turned toward her, Frankie used the opportunity to slink behind him and land a surprise blow to the side of his head. The teen dropped like a heavy sack of potatoes, garnering a surprised huff from Lonnie.

“Frankie!” Lonnie gasped in surprise.

“What?” she muttered. “You were taking too long.” The two stared at eachother for a moment before laughter broke out between the two. Stepping over the unconscious male, Lonnie pulled Frankie into a side hug before walking stepping into the pipe side by side. Frank had stiffened under the sudden contact but didn’t pull away from the embrace. Once they made it to the other end of the tunnel, the two broke away and made quick work with the tarp covering the limo. It wasn’t long before the other teens made their way to them and began to move around the car.

“Let’s go,” Mal shouted at everyone. Frankie stood near the end of the tunnel entrance, her hands fisted in the tarp she helped pulled off, with a frown on her face. She knew the others expected her to go with them. It would have been the smart thing to do but Frankie’s gut told her otherwise. A few hours ago she would have done anything to stow away in this car but now Frankie knew this wasn’t the right time for her to leave. She had to make things right first.

“Frankie we have to go,” the King said. Only instead of moving, the girl shook her head.

“I can’t,” she said. “Not yet.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Evie cried.

“I’ll be fine,” Frankie said. The others looked dubious, no one besides the dog moving to get inside the car. Frankie smiled before turning to the King with a slight incline to her head. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll go when I get a real invitation but only after you take the kids who really deserve to go as well.”

“Come with us and make sure it happens!” the Lonnie pleaded.

“No,” Frankie shook her head with a miserable laugh. “I don’t deserve to go. Not yet, at least. Take the kids who deserve it first then I’ll consider it. Until then, I’ll do my best around here to help get them ready. And Ben? Don’t make us wait too long.”

“…I won’t,” he swore. “I promise.”

“Good,” Frankie nodded. “Now go! It won’t be much longer before Uma and her crew get’s here!”

Frankie smiled at the group, waving off their concerned looks with a determined one of her own. Things were going to change around here and she was damned sure she was going to help it along herself; Even if it meant braving a pirate crew on her own. Though thinking about it, Frankie did know a few people who would be more than willing to help her cause if it meant getting off the Isle. Some persuasion would be needed but she was sure she could do it.

“Be careful out there, Frankie,” Evie told her from inside the car. “And don’t get into too much trouble!”

“No promises.”

I’m pretty new to Tumblr but I’m hoping on taking on some requests! (This is cross-posted on 

A Moment

Summary: You were close friends with Eggsy, and had been house sitting for him, but what happens when a vague news report sets off your anxiety and he comes back to find you?

Word Count: 1607

Warnings: Anxiety/panic attack

A/N: this is for my lovely @writingwithadinosaur . I love you to bits and pieces Drea, so here is a little love from our favorite Kingsman!

This is un-betaed so please point out any errors and be kind!

Originally posted by jolifoutoir

The news footage continued to play across the screen, but you were no longer paying attention. Eggsy had gone out earlier, saying he was going to stop by the shop, and then run to the market to grab some things for dinner. Now the news crew was at the market, reporting on the stabbing and subsequent death of a young man who had yet to be identified; he matched Eggsy’s description.

You knew Eggsy was a Kingsman agent, he was more than capable of handling himself, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be killed by a freak accident. You were a Kingsman too, but you worked behind the scenes, you usually helped Merlin with the tech aspects of the missions. You had been staying at Eggsy’s for the last week, watching JB for him while he was out on assignment. Now that he was back, you were meant to be on holiday for a little while now, but he insisted on making you dinner before you went back to your house. You couldn’t say no to him. If you were honest with yourself, you would do anything he asked of you, since meeting him, you’d harbored more than a little crush on him; not that he or anyone else knew. If there was one thing you were good at, it was concealing your feelings from people around you.

Eggsy wasn’t answering his mobile. You’d gone from sitting on the sofa, holding JB in your lap, to pacing up and down the kitchen. JB was following you, whining; your behavior upsetting him, but you almost couldn’t hear him over the pounding of your heart.

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Imagine Me and You (I Do) — A Single Dad!Ashton AU

Summary: Ashton is a father to twin boys, a YouTube vlogger, and also your best friend. 
Rating: T
Word Count: 4,858
A/N: This is the result of a series of text messages sent back and forth between Rachel and me. We’re kind of obsessed with Dadshton. I hope you like it, @gladsyoucame​!!!

It’s 8:30 in the morning on a Saturday when Ashton decides it’s time to wake his boys up so they can start their day. He himself has been up since five, long since finished his daily routine of checking his schedule for the day, powering through some yoga and meditation, followed by a few miles’ jog on the treadmill. 

His hair is still wet from the shower when he creeps up to Frankie’s room, pushing the door open to find the four-year-old tucked up beneath the blankets, eyelashes fanned out against his round cheeks as he snuffles softly in his sleep. Ashton walks over to the edge of the bed and sits down gently, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Frankie’s cheek.

“Frankie,” he whispers gently, nudging Frankie’s ear with his nose, “it’s time to wake up, Pal.”

Frankie grumbles tiredly, turning his head so he can bury it in the pillow.

He’s always been a light sleeper, and Ashton knows after all this time that if he doesn’t wake Frankie gently, he’ll be cranky all day.

“Gotta get up, Frank,” Ashton tries again, “I need you to help me make the pancakes.”

“Pancakes?” Comes the garbled reply, Frankie lifting his head to look at Ashton.

“Oh yeah,” Ashton grins, lifting Frankie from his sheets and cradling his slight frame against Ashton’s own. He knows Frankie’s getting too big for it, but he wants to hold onto his babies for as long as he can. 

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Seventy-One Days

This is a little late but its a birthday fic for @reserve yay

It’s 2k of Kylux angst, Hux being a sad petty bitch and reunions. I was going to have smut but then I would have taken 3 years to finish it so maybe another time. I didn’t have a beta reader so I hope it isn’t terrible.


Ren was thirteen days late. He left with his Knights for reasons he didn’t choose to disclose with Hux—his own lover and, more importantly, someone of equal authority.Hux believed he had a right to be informed. For all he knew, they could have been going off to have an orgy (not that it bothered him, if that were the case, it was merely the principle). He still wasn’t quite sure what their training method was, or even what the extent of Ren’s relationship with the Knights actually was.

But the point was, he stormed into Hux’s office with a scowl and a poor excuse for a farewell and left, some thirteen days ago.

Not that Hux was counting.

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sweetpopcornkat  asked:

“Is that my shirt?”

Lance was an icon of fashion.

He was the go-to man whenever his sisters needed advice to woo their dates, and the person to turn to when his brothers needed reassurance if their casual clothes weren’t too casual. In parties and weddings and everything in between, Lance effortlessly outshone even the lead of the event. Got any inquiries for possible matches for the outfit your planning? Enter the Lance Store: Where Even The Worse Fashion Disaster Can Earn Salvation.

(Well, that’s excluding a certain someone with crop jacket and a mullet, but even the man best at what he does cannot save the man worst at it. Pity, really.)

Needless to say, it was a shame that they got to space in such a short notice (a very short notice indeed), especially since Lance couldn’t pack his clothes before hand. Which of course, Lance found was a wasted opportunity, though he was grateful for the outfit he’d chosen, because aliens from outer space had no skill whatsoever when it came to casual wear.

And what better way to educate them, than to take the princess out on a shopping spree for casual clothing?

So yea. They’re the pilots of five lion robots, kicking ass to defend the universe, light years away from planet Earth. What’s wrong with a little sense of adventure when it came down to fashion?

Which brought Lance to his current dilemma.

He couldn’t find his quiznaking shirt. Not the shirt he brought with him from Earth, god, but the shirt he just bought when he and Allura went down for a quick trip at the intergalactic Space Trift Shop just by the Andromeda Galaxy (so close to home, Lance thought, before distracting himself with less sad things). He was very sure he’d put them in the laundry basket - because you don’t know where items from thrift shops had been - but they’re nowhere to be found.

A dilemma indeed.

“Hunk?” he called out, peeping his head into the kitchen. “Did you see that sweet new shirt I got myself? The one that was in the laundry basket?”

“The one that says ‘Good Bi’?”


Hunk turned back to icing his cake, which Lance made a mental note to try out later. “Nope.”


“Why would you ask me?” Keith scoffed, snuggling into Lance’s jacket on the couch. “I don’t use your clothing.”

“No,” Allura said, wearing this sweet off shoulder top Lance recommended to her. She frowned slightly, pointy ears drooping. “You still haven’t explained to me why you laughed so hard when you read the wordings on that shirt.”

“I’m afraid not, but I do have some clothing that I’d like you to–” Coran reached out a hand to Lance who was running away as fast as his legs could carry. “Where are you?!”

Very odd.

He ran into the hangar and pressed his back against the wall, chest heaving from being out of breath. Apparently near death experiences hadn’t raised his stamina at even the slightest bit, which is a shame.

Lance was wondering if he should actually start to train more than he already did with Keith just because when he saw a familiar silhouette just by the Green Lion’s paw. Oh right, he thought. I haven’t asked Pidge yet.

He walked to her, good naturedly. A smile on his face to appear polite, even though they both knew he wasn’t really no, not with close friends. He put a hand in his pocket when he got closer to her, and raised a hand in greeting. “Hey Pidge, have you seen my–”

A flash of blue caught his eye, and he realized that Pidge was cleaning her equipment. Cleaning her oily equipment with a clothing material. More specifically, she was cleaning her equipment with a clothing material that was the very specific thing that he had been specifically looking for.

Lance stopped and stared at the item in her hands. Pidge looked up, a shade of red crawling up to her face, and she hid the item quickly behind her, as if Lance was dumb and blind to the obvious. “Uh,” she muttered intelligently.

“–shirt,” Lance finished after the brief moment when his brain registered the scene unfolding in front of him. As he realized this had been the culprit to the Case of the Missing Shirt. “Is that my shirt?”

“…no,” Pidge drawled.

“That’s my shirt,” Lance said, voice raising. “You’re using my shirt.”


“Without my permission.”


“As cleaning material!” Lance shrieked, ripping the shirt away from her tiny hands and holding it up in front to check the damage. His heart sank when he saw damage that could never be undone. “Pidge, I put this in the laundry basket to clean it, not for it to get used as dish rag!”

“I panicked, okay?” Pidge said, holding her hands out in surrender, guilt creeping into the tone of her voice. “I just–the device was about to go haywire and I needed something to clean it up with but the cloth I was using was taken away by Hunk and I didn’t know where he put it and the shirt was there so I thought I could–” She paused, then looked down, folding her legs into her chest. “I’m sorry.”

Lance looked down at the device she was cleaning, then tried to make sense of the structure. It looked familiar, but every device did to Lance, so he concentrated harder. Something Pidge had been working on. Something that’d been failing. Something she didn’t give up on. He gazed down on the contraption and the puzzle pieces came together. “Oh.”

Pidge snorted. “Yea, oh.” She looked down again, and Lance was reminded of how tiny she was despite her fiery attitude. “Just - I think it was gonna work. I almost had a signal, but then the signal cut off and it started sparking because I didn’t clean the equipment before using it, so I–” She pursed her lips. “Never mind.”

Lance stood there silent, something which, Lance admit, was rare, and he walked slowly to Pidge and sat by her. “Need help?”

Pidge snapped to him, eyes wide. “What?”

Lance shrugged casually. “I figured since I’m bored, I’ll help.” He wiggled an index finger in front of her. “Think of it as payment for the damage you caused.”


“No buts, young lady.” He shifted into a more comfortable position, grinning excitedly at her. “Now, what do you need help with?”

Pidge stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief, until it slowly morphed into one of gratitude. He could hear a silent thank you from her, though he might’d been imagining it. “Well,” she said, teasing tone appearing, “we both know you’re terrible at machines–”


“–so tell me about your family.”

Lance paused, looking at Pidge, who went back to work straight away. He didn’t miss the little smile she gave, nor would he miss the chance to talk about his family at any given time, so he grinned, and said, “That I can do.”

Lance may be a man of fashion, but you know what?

He was a family man first.

send me a four word prompt :D

“women can’t be oppressors because they are women” does not mean that women can’t be oppressors at all. white women oppress people of color. rich women oppress poor people. abled women oppress disabled people. they are not oppressing poor people, disabled people, or people of color because they are women. they are oppressing these people because they are white, or rich, or abled. women can be oppressors when they belong to a class of people that hold privilege over an oppressed class (eg white to poc, rich to poor, abled to disabled, etc). they are not oppressors because they are women. they can’t be oppressors for their status as women because it is that status that makes them oppressed.

you read “women can’t be oppressors because they are women” and see only “women can’t be oppressors”, when the defined part is “because they are women”. the “because” refers to the concept that the cause of their oppressive power is their status as women, which categorically is untrue. women can be oppressors, and they are, when they are also part of a privileged class. it is never a woman’s femaleness that brings her societal power; it her whiteness, her wealth, her abled body and mind.

consider some critical thinking when reading a statement like “women can’t be oppressors because they are women”. you might find it serves you better than irrational tantrumming because you’ve stopped comprehending beyond the first four words.

This is largely for my own reference. I just need to line up some bits of dialogue from this season so far cuz I keep mentioning that this is almost certainly an underlying theme of the season, and I want some shit to back me up.

So… we already knew that the very first word of the season was “father.” 

Did we also realize that they are also the first four words that Jack ever says? 


JACK: Father? 

SAM: No, no no. No. I’m not your father, Jack. It is Jack, right? 

JACK (eyes still glowing): Father. 



JACK: Father? 


CLARK, through the mic: Yo, we’re not open yet. 

JACK: Father. 

And then later, throwing the whole ‘chosen’ family versus ‘blood’ family thing right in our faces…

JACK: I have to find my father. He’ll protect me.

SAM: Jack, you gotta listen to me. That’s not really what Lucifer does.

JACK: Lucifer? No, that’s not his name. My father is Castiel.

And it’s something that’s getting brought up every single episode. 


JACK: This book, it mentions my father. Not Castiel, but Lucifer. 

DEAN: Oh, yeah. Yeah, he’s—he’s big in the Bible. Lotta screen time.

JACK: And you… knew him?

SAM: Well, he’s not really an easy guy to know. He’s, um, he’s kind of rough around the edges.

DEAN: He’s Satan.

JACK: And that’s… that’s bad.

DEAN: Damn straight. See… he turned on his father, God.

JACK: God, he’s in here, too. Is he famous or something?

SAM: Yeah. Um, God basically… created everything.

DEAN: Yeah, and then he skipped out, leaving guys like us to clean up his messes life Lucifer.

JACK: So, God’s like my grandfather. He’s family, and that’s… That’s good.

DEAN: Sometimes.

(Nothing to see here, just Dean taking that age-old conversation that family doesn’t start or end with blood and flipping it over so now instead it’s, “family isn’t always good.”)

BARTENDER: What the hell? You’re not drivin’, right? I’ve just—I’ve seen you around the hotel. Passin’ through with… what, your buddies? 

DEAN: Uh, that’s my brother, and some messed up kid.

BARTENDER: Oh, the kid’s messed up?

DEAN: Yeah, issues with his dad. 

BARTENDER: The older fella.

DEAN: No, that’s, uh, Donatello. Uh, he’s a… guy we work with.

BARTENDER: I hated my old man. I ran away myself. See, my mom would never stick up for me. But… (sighs) you know kids. No matter what, they still want the old man’s approval. Well, that’s how it was with me, just… 

DEAN: You know, that’s, uh, that’s how it was with me, too.

And John’s journal is the exposition piece that reveals there was a gate of hell in Jasper, WY. 

But let’s move on…


KELLY: Jack, don’t let anyone tell you who you’re supposed to be. Because who you’re supposed to be isn’t fate, it isn’t me, it isn’t your father. You are who you choose to be. And I know you’re going to okay. You are going to be amazing. You have an angel watching over you.


PATIENCE: I talked to my dad. He thinks I should put it away. Dad says we should just get back to normal. Maybe he’s right.


SAM: I didn’t ‘end bad’. When I was the freak, when I was drinking demon blood.

DEAN: Come on man, that’s totally different.

SAM: Was it? Because you could’ve put a bullet in me. Dad told you to put a bullet in me but you didn’t! You saved me! So help me save him!


SAM: Dean, what’s up with all the orders? You’re starting to sound like dad.

DEAN: Is that a bad thing?

SAM: I’m just saying his – his drill sergeant have worked with you, but it didn’t work with me. And that’s not the way we’re gonna get through to Jack.

Oh, and John’s journal is brought up AGAIN in their therapy session. 

@femslash-and-fandoms​ asked for : Strikhedonia | The pleasure of being able to say “to hell with it” | OT4 (The 100)

you didn’t specify this but i decided to write a scene from my current (as yet untitled) modern!au WIP which is turning into a beast of a fic and I’m so excited, as it is my outline is almost ¼ satisfied and I’m at 56k. This is from somewhere in the middle, but I hope you all enjoy this. Clarke, Octavia, and Lexa seducing Raven.

send me a word and a character/series/pairing and I’ll write you a drabble

“Octavia,” Raven leans over and whispers in her ear. “You realize your hand is on my thigh.” At the same moment Octavia nods she feels Clarke’s hand come to rest on the small of her back and the small patch of skin that’s exposed just above her jeans. “Oh,” she tries to not look surprised because even though the entire exchange that night could have been read as flirtatious or simply friendly, Octavia and Clarke are in a relationship with Lexa, and this is most definitely flirting.

Each of them discretely has a hand on her.

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