for once i disagree but still

fun fact: people can be more than just extreme right or extreme left

someone can agree with some conservative policies without automatically being a sexist, racist, homophobic and transphobic douchebag

someone can lobby for social justice while still believing in people’s right’s to disagree with them (shocking, I know)

someone can find problems with the escalation of politically correct culture while still believing in a lot of what it stands for

We’re living in a culture of extremes, extremes which only serve to provoke even more drastic and destructive behavior from the other side. I’m getting really freaking tired of waiting for people to start listening to each other again, to have actual conversations with open-minds and respect that culminate in more than just call outs and threats.

why some teens believe everything the light of their internet-capable device touches is their kingdom

(‘what about that shadowy place over there?’

‘that’s pornhub, simba. you must never go there.’)

we all see plenty of posts about how adults on the internet need to remember that ‘kids’ (read: teens) are around and we must bear that in mind. and these posts are not entirely without merit. It’s important to keep conversations being held with teens carefully teen-friendly and appropriately distant. but the entirety of tumblr and twitter aren’t designed to cater to the safety of minors, and all the adult self-policing in the world won’t make all the kid-unfriendly content go away.

not all teens believe the internet should have gutter bumpers for them, either. but those that do have mystified me for a while … until I started to understand just how pervasive ‘helicopter parenting’ is in parts of American (and UK) culture, and how that affects the adolescents and young adults of today.

anonymous asked:

a thing worth noting re anyone who pulls the ‘you can’t blacklist on mobile, minors can still see it’ thing to say even tagged content isn’t okay: even if washboard didn’t exist, the tumblr app is rated 17/18+ in app stores. if people under that age get on the app and see things they shouldn’t, that’s on them and their parents/guardians, because they shouldn’t actually have been using the app in the first place.

agreed.

Honestly, though, the argument has moved past this in some ways. It’s not so much about whether or not teenagers are allowed to see this thing or that thing; it’s a well-known fact that most teenagers will break rules if it suits them and they can get away with it, and internet time is a prime space wherein they can do so.

What’s happened is that some adolescents - teens with parents that are overly protective and crowd their schedules with supervised activities, usually - have been taught by their life experience that:

  • all adults in their vicinity are there to protect them. and no wonder: the large majority of their contact with adults will have been as supervisors. Teachers, teacher assistants, instructors, daycare employees, and coaches are all adults who are paid to watch their activity and will be held responsible for the teen’s wellbeing by their guardians. when have they ever spent time with adults who aren’t in charge of making sure they’re safe?
  • any space they are in will be designed and maintained with their safety and comfort in mind (no matter how they obtained access). all spaces they enter are specifically meant to revolve around them: schools, sports, playgrounds, etc. The few occasions that they have to enter spaces not meant specifically for them (stores, etc) they are closely watched by adults and any harm they experience will be blamed on adults as a result.
  • if they can get access, it must be a space that’s safe for them. Having spent very little of their lives unsupervised, they have always been actively prevented from entering spaces that are not meant for them. They’ve never had to learn to set boundaries for themselves, so they naturally reason that if a boundary is not actively enforced, it must actually be a space they’re meant to enter.
  • they are not responsible for themselves. adults around them are responsible for them. if they come to harm, it’s because an adult wasn’t doing their job properly.

for teens of this mindset, ‘18+ ONLY’ warnings are merely a suggestion. Nobody is stopping them, after all, and it has never been their job to stop themselves. and if they can get access, the space is now theirs - because all spaces they are in are theirs. they couldn’t get there unless it was meant for them; that’s how it works, right?

This is why some teens are utterly flabbergasted by the idea that adults on the internet want to interact with fellow adults on an adult level in a space the teen can access. They’re here! That means the space is specifically meant to cater to them! The adults are automatically tasked with their safety! If teens do get into trouble, it’s because the adults weren’t responsible enough! that’s how this has always worked.

And when adults say ‘no, I do not take responsibility for your actions, the internet is full of things that may frighten or harm you and you must set your own boundaries,’ it’s distressing and scary all at once.

(no wonder so many people in their late teens/early 20′s want to still be considered as children.)

EDIT (10/9/2017, 4 days after originally posting): if you’re seeing this post in its original form, I hope you’ll read some of the excellent reblogs disagreeing with it. I think that this post kind of misses the point, which is: some of it may be emotionally invaded teens, but some is just that teens who grew up around this kind of behavior from their parents and adults have learned that they can use their minor status as a kind of power play and thus stand up to demand coddling in fandom spaces.

the culprit that I still maintain is the heart of the problem is the structure of sites like tumblr and twitter, which knocked down all barriers and moderation in fandom and made fandom feel chaotic and uncontrollable. we’re all looking for ways to control our experience in an environment of this kind; some find it by demanding others change what they produce, and others do it by curating what what they see of the production of others. this post doesn’t reflect that well, however, and I apologize for talking down to teenagers who have the agency to think for themselves no matter how their parents behaved. 

Scavenger Hunt

Stiles/Derek, T, 2500 words, Meet Cute AU

Written for the following prompt:

“i picked up your bag at the airport but i can’t find your number so i’m about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all time by using your strange belongings to track you down” au

“Honey, I’m home!” Stiles calls out as he wrestles his roll bag over their entry mat.

“That’s still not funny,” Scott says, without looking up from his textbook.

“Once again, we disagree.”

Scott snorts. “How was the trip?”

“Fine,” he says, plopping down right in the middle of the living room to start unpacking. “Typical conference. Some sessions were actually interesting, most were boring as shit.”

Scott hums, already absorbed again in his reading. Stiles reaches for the zipper on his suitcase but then freezes—this is definitely the same brand as his suitcase, but he doesn’t remember this extra zippered pocket on the top.

“Oh, shit.”

“What?”

Stiles grimaces. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t my suitcase. Goddamn it.”

Scott finally looks up, frowning. “Shit, really? How’d you manage that?”

“It was a redeye,” Stiles says, running a hand through his hair. “I was exhausted, in fucking LaGuardia, and I was just trying to get out of there as fast as humanly possible.”

“Is there a name on it? Are you sure it’s not yours?”

“Pretty sure,” Stiles says, feeling around the sides for the pocket. He sighs when he pulls out the little card and sees that it’s blank. “Motherfucker. This is definitely not my suitcase because I’m actually smart enough to put my name on it.”

“Sorry, man,” Scott says sympathetically as Stiles falls back on the rug with an anguished groan.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

“Open it,” Scott suggests. “Maybe there’s something with their name on it.”

Stiles fiddles with the zipper. He’s nosy as hell, in general, and normally he’d be jumping at the chance to rifle through someone else’s personal belongings. But… 

“What if there’s like, dead bodies in there or something?” he asks, and Scott just stares at him for a second. Stiles rolls his eyes—that’s a perfectly valid concern. Or maybe he watches too many police procedurals, whatever. “Okay, fine.”

Stiles holds his breath as he slowly unzips the suitcase, but nothing happens when he lets the top part flop back onto their crappy, threadbare rug. There’s a Dodgers hat on top, and Stiles grimaces. “Well, they have shitty taste in baseball teams.”

He sets the hat carefully aside and keeps digging. The person is neat, whoever they are, because everything is folded, and all the dirty clothes are even all contained in their own zippered bag. At first glance, there’s nothing too out of the ordinary—phone charger, American Gods, Calvin Klein briefs. Fancy, he thinks. There’s a monogrammed leather toiletry bag (DSH, he commits those initials to memory), and he pokes through it.

“I’m gonna make an educated guess that it’s a guy.”

“Why’s that?” Scott says, finally looking somewhat interested in this mystery.

Stiles holds up an electric razor. “And that he’s maybe not totally straight,” he says, brandishing a little bottle of lube that’s about three-quarters full.

Scott rolls his eyes. “Lots of people use lube.”

“Yeah, but do you travel with it?” Stiles counters, and Scott sighs.

“No,” he admits. “Did you find anything with his actual name on it?”

“Not yet,” Stiles says absently. He continues to rifle through the bag until he’s pretty sure he has his plan of attack. “Okay. I’m gonna find out who it is,” he says with a determined nod, and Scott frowns.

“How? This is New York City! There are literally millions of dudes here.”

“It’ll be like a real-life scavenger hunt,” Stiles says dreamily, ignoring Scott as he carefully lays his three chosen items out on the coffee table. “This is awesome.”

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Seriously, that sort of thing gets under my skin like nothing else. It’s… just… it despairs the Josie

I can’t believe that young folks taking part in fandom these days are coming away with these conservative ideas about content and thought purity and thinking that this is the new progressive activism. This idea that portraying a thing convinces society as a whole to emulate said thing. They scoff when 60 year old pundits on TV scaremonger about video games causing children to gravitate towards violence (think of the children) but then jump down the throats of queer women in fandom for writing about their sexuality in adult spaces lest a child chance upon it (think of the children).

They fail to see the irony in the fact that, by doing this, they are seeking out content which by their own ruleset many of them are too young to be seeing, and in that their new activism is the same thing that the conservative right has been levering as a tool for oppression for centuries. They can’t see that irony because the fear of violence social expulsion and branding as a “literal child abuser” (because anyone who disagrees must of course be demonized) has transformed any dissenting thoughts into badthink that must be blocked out at all costs!!!

By the way, it is always queer women who end up the target of these campaigns. Straight cis men are seen as too unapproachable; we queer women are picked out because they see us as soft targets - they feel that they can exploit that and exercise their thrilling witch hunt muscles on us without facing serious repercussions. And they still get to feel like heroes at the end of the day, because once we disagree with the prevailing purity wisdom we become bad nonpeople. Forget the fact that this is the same oppression that queer women have faced for decades, except now it’s coming from the progressive left as well as the right.

It’s pretty horrifying. It reminds me a little of how terfs use wrapping-paper activism to front their regressive ideals as with a progressive facade, convincing themselves that they’re in the right, really. And to be honest, I think that what some of these antis are doing is just as dangerous as the terf corner of feminist activism. And coming from a trans woman, fuck, that means a lot when I say it. You have no idea.

cinnamonrollbucky  asked:

TALK STARKQUILL TO ME I NEED

Their meeting was a little less meet-cute and a little more,,, meet-ugly sort of thing.


Mainly because they both read the situation very badly and ended up trying to kill one another. Completely accidentally, but.

Still.

And really, can you blame Tony? Their ship does crash-land in the middle of a crowded highway, and barely manages to avoid civilians. Then they pop out, and they’re armed to the teeth, looking pretty threatening and…well… alien.

People end up calling (what’s left of) the Avengers- which happens, at the time, to be Tony and Tony alone.

Except the Guardians crashed in Florida; when Tony got the call he was in New Orleans at a science convention, and the suit was still in New York.

But he went anyway. Suit or no suit, he had to try. He was the only line of defence now, after… everything.

So, armed with a sophisticated watch-gauntlet and a gun he always kept tucked in his jacket pocket, he takes the jet and leaves to try and stop them from potentially, y’know, annihilating the world or whatever.


Except things don’t really happen like that, in the end.


“Listen, what are the chances you’re gonna do as I say when I order you to drop your weapons and leave?” tony asks wearily, as he holds the gun at the biggest guy’s weirdly patterned face and the gauntlet at the woman holding the largest gun he’s ever seen in his life. He doesn’t even bat an eyelid toward the talking walking raccoon or… the tree…thing.

Just another day in the life, at this point.

Although it would be kinda embarrassing if he ends up getting murdered by the raccoon. What the damn hell would they put on his grave? Here lies Tony Stark- saved New York, but unable to protect himself from the dangers of the Mighty Raccoon?

As soon as he’d spoken, about 13 different weapons were pointed in his face. Which hardly made sense, considering there were five of them and they all only had two hands. But whatever.

“How’s about we ask you the same? Except more forcefully, considering we got all the guns,” the raccoon said.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Where the fuck would I go then, what with me being a human being who lives here? Just fling myself into the void of space? And yes, tempting as that might sound, I’ve been there done that. Not as appealing as I would have thought, to be honest.” 

The five stared at him in confusion for a moment, before what looked to be the only actual human stepped forward, head cocked. His eyes were bright and beard scruffy- Tony thought it suited him.

Tony also thought he should probably focus on the task at hand, and his ever-growing chances of imminent death, rather than how pretty his opponent was.

“You’re just a human, huh?” Hot Scruffy Man asked.

Tony raised an eyebrow, and then pointed the gun at him when he took another step. “What gave it away? The fact that I have the same composition and structure as every other human on the planet? The fact I look just like you, who is also a human?”

“Half human,”

“What was the other half, pure asshole?”

“Actually… kinda, yeah.” The Hot Scruffy Man paused, and then shrugged. “Daddy issues.”

Tony had a brief moment to wonder what the fuck he was doing before an involuntary snort of laughter had escaped out of him. “Yeah- rode that train before, buddy- still doesn’t explain why you’re on the planet I protect, waving your guns around at innocent people and causing millions of dollars worth in property damage.”

The team in front of him paused, and then the man looked back at the green lady, who just shrugged and put down her gun. “We were told there was an imminent threat to your planet. We were in the neighbourhood, so we thought we’d come save you.”

Tony stared at them, contemplating. “Where are your sources from?”

“The fine NovaCorps,” Massive Bulked Alien Dude spoke up.

Tony squinted, running a hand across his forehead. “Am I… supposed to know what that means?”

“Fancy space police,” Raccoon told him.

“You seen any apocalyptic aliens round here lately?” Hot scruffy Man asked him again, slightly confused now. 

Tony just sighed. “Nope. And if there were, I would handle them. You can go back…wherever you came from, guys, it’s fine, Earth is fine-“

“You? You’re gonna protect the Earth? With your fancy little handgun and hand-firey thing?” The Raccoon laughed, and Tony scowled.

Luckily, because he had been counting the seconds in his head since he’d called it, he knew he was about to do something really badass, and it wiped the scowl off his face, replacing it with a little smile as he stared at the stupid talking Raccoon. 

“No,” he said, shrugging as he heard the familiar whirring sound of metal moving at hundreds of miles an hour up ahead of him.

The aliens looked up, one of them pointing their gun at the source of noise, like it would do anything. But in the space of a few seconds, it had already reached its intended target, slowing down just enough to not vaporise his body and wrapping around him, every piece fitting in a way that made Tony want to give himself a round of applause.


“I’m gonna protect Earth with this,” he said, raising his two repulsors and loading them right in the Raccoon’s little face.


There was complete silence for a second, before Hot Scruffy Man made a noise that should really, for the sake of Tony’s sanity, be kept in the bedroom. “That was literally the coolest and most attractive thing I have ever seen ever. In my life.”

Tony couldn’t help himself; he smirked and cocked his head Hot scruffy Man. “Sweetie, I appreciate the sentiment, but you’re gonna have to keep it in your pants until we can sort this out.”

Green Lady sighed, and walked forward to smack Hot Scruffy Man around the back of the head. “You know what we talked about, Peter- no flirting with potential targets. It’s in bad form.”

“This guy certainly hasn’t got a bad form,” Hot Scruffy Man- Peter- nodded over to Tony and smirked.

Green Lady sighed, and then turned to Tony. “Listen. You want to protect your planet. We want to protect your planet. How about rather than pointing our weapons at one another, we try and… you know, do what we set out to do?”

Instantly, the smile slide off Tony’s face, not that any of them could tell behind the faceplate. “I work alone. Sorry. You’re gonna have to l-“


And that was when the world sort of exploded around them.


Without even thinking about it, Tony shot forward and wrapped his arms around the two closest to him- the Green Lady and Peter- rolling them to the ground and hoping that the rest of his team, especially the more flammable ones, were okay. Green Lady yelled at the sudden-ness of his approach, but Peter just sighed. “Here we go,” he muttered into Tony’s shoulder.

Tony was inclined to agree, there.




Half-way through the battle, Peter AKA Starlord AKA Galaxy’s Number One Asshole asked him out.

Tony looked at him for a good four seconds before he got tackled to the ground by… (Dracula? Dracker? He was having to learn the names on the go, and his mind was currently on other, more explosion-based things) the Massive Bulked Alien Dude.

“THAT IS VERY UNPROFFESSIONAL, PETER!” He yelled, before looking down at Tony. “Are you well? I thought you may have been hit with a paralytic beam of some sort.”

Tony nodded, and then sat up. “No paralytic. Just your team-mate.”

Massive Bulked Alien Dude nodded wisely. “He does tend to have that affect on people.”

“What? Endangering their goddamn lives on the field?”

Massive Bulked Alien Dude paused, and then shrugged as he rolled off Tony. “I was going to say rendering people speechless with his idiocy, but that too.”

“Hey, that’s not fair, I’m actually clever, Tony, I promise! Boyfriend material, right here!” Peter yelled across the battlefield, looking over to them and grinning as he shot an alien in the back of the head without even looking.

“You’re a god damn alien!” tony yelled back exasperatedly, trying to keep the smile off his face as he jumped high into the air and then landed on an unfortunate opponent.

“Yeah- think of all the new tricks I must know, then,” Peter countered, winking as he dived behind a car and then threw what must have been a fancy bomb over the bonnet.

Tony’s mind briefly short-circuited at that (Holy mother of God) astute observation- but he quickly regrouped and fired a repulsor at an alien attempting to sneak up behind Rocket. “I’m gonna need a few examples before I agree to anything, sweetie,” he replied.

Peter laughed and opened his mouth, but then the Tree hit him over the head. “Ow!” he complained, looking betrayed.

“I have enough issues dealing with one distracted team-member whilst in the middle of a battle, I will not be dealing with two! Cut the flirting out!” Gamora yelled, as Tony watched her utterly destroy two different aliens at once.

“She thinks we should be ‘professionals’ and ‘focus on the mission’ when we’re in battle,” Peter said grumpily, wiping a cut across his face and then shrugging. “I respectfully disagree.”

Tony had to cut the conversation short again in order to swoop up and laser his way into the main hull of the ship that loomed barely even twenty meters over the battlefield, but he still had the team in the comm that FRIDAY had patched him into. “So what about Monday? You sticking around until then?” He asked.

Rocket swore at them down the line, but Peter just laughed. “For you, baby, of course I am.”

“Good. I’ve got a meeting with… let’s call him an ex. Be nice to have an excuse to blow him off.”

Peter whistled, “Oooh, want me to sweep you off your feet and declare battle with him for hurting you? I’m always up for it.”

“Much as I would like to see that, he’s kind of peak physical perfection. Plus I’d rather just make out with you,” Tony admitted.

“That’s fair. I want to make out with me too.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yep- welcome to the Guardians- we’re all assholes here. You’ll fit right in,” Peter told him.

“I am GROOT!” Came a rumbling voice that Tony could hear even off the comms, and he looked down in time to watch the tree grab Peter around the wait and haul him, flinging him up in to the sky with a yell.

It was a perfect throw, to be fair to Groot. Peter’s momentum cut out just as he was level with Tony, who grabbed his shoulders and lifted his faceplate, just for a second, in time for Peter to plant one on his mouth with a grin and a raised eyebrow, before he began falling again, right into Groot’s waiting arms.


Through the comm, Gamora just sighed. “Idiots. All of you.”

His || Jungkook || 0.20

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12 | 0.13 | 0.14 | 0.15 | 0.16 | 0.17 | 0.18 | 0.19 | 0.20 |

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List of things I will never get over

-How quickly Steve and Danny meant the world to each other and still do, even if they fight a lot sometimes (read: all the time).

-How Steve and Danny look at each other. I mean… are you seeing this???

Originally posted by alohaspaceman

-Steve loving Grace and Charlie like they’re his own kids, and having adorable moments with them.

-Steve and Danny risking everything to save each other, more than once.

-THIS MOMENT!! MY HEART JUST MELTS.

Originally posted by alohaspaceman

-THIS WHOLE SCENE. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. They look like a family, and I will literally fight anyone that dares to disagree with me.

Originally posted by nici-unicorn

-THE HUGS, more of those please!! Like, are you kidding me??? How cute can you two be???

Originally posted by iam-gs

- And of course, last but not least, the few but very meaningful “I love you” moments that Steve and Danny have shared.

Originally posted by transientmorality

If you haven’t watched Hawaii 5-0 yet, you really should. Gifs in this post are made by: alohaspaceman, nici-unicorn, iam-gs & transientmorality.

THE MBTI TYPES FROM AN INFJ’s PERSPECTIVE

- This is all from my personal experience, everybody is different- yada yada yada.

- I love you all

INFP:

- You make me laugh so much

- No sense of space or direction, basically don’t send us to get something together because we will fail. 

- Good counselor

- Sometimes you don’t see what other people are implying because you are very genuine and trusting. 

- Nice stash of memes

ISFP:

- Why the HELL, why the absolutely HECKING HELL, do you SIT IN THE RAIN WHEN YOU HAVE A COLD? I understand you are a child of nature, but WHY? You will get an even worse cold!??? 

- I love you

- You’re emo sometimes 

- A lot of ISFP weebs

ISFJ:

- Why the hell haven’t you ever made me cookies like the stereotype says, huh?

- ISFJ’s will listen to you whine

- Good solid advice

- You are nit picky perfectionists at heart.

- You are very anxious and small and I love you. 

- Will cry if you insult their favourite characters

INFJ:

- I don’t understand the unique unicorn thing, you are all massive nerds and know it.

- Secret memelords

- Terrible at social interaction on the inside, but you aren’t as bad as you think from an outsiders perspective.

- Gets overwhelmed at parties. 

INTP:

- I love you

- Best type

- I’m joking

- I’m not

- Big nerd for video games

- I’ll be there at 3pm. (aka 5pm)

- Not actually good at maths

INTJ:

- When we first start talking I always think you hate me and then you secretly liked me all along?

- Hilarious

- Blunt in a good and bad way

- Your ideas amaze me

- Make very good artists

ISTJ:

- So, so, sarcastic

- A+ grade student 18 years in a row

- Speaks a lot but not to you

- Obsessed with young adult fiction 

- Has a crush on every actor

- Doesn’t like my memes?

ISTP:

- Understated humor that gets me every time

- Whenever i need anything fixed, after i try to fix it myself, you are there for me.

- Bad at social interaction until they get older.. and then, still….

- Leather jacket

ESTJ:

- Bad experiences, good experiences…

- That tertiary Ne gets me giggling 

- You listen to my opinions and accept them, even if you disagree with them- sometimes you even change yours once you hear mine. I admire this a lot and appreciate it.

- In the grip or looping ESTJ’s have been the most annoyingly patronizing people I have ever met, HOWEVER, healthy ESTJ’s are cool cats and I like you lots. 

ESTP:

- Honestly, dominant Se scares the hell out of me and I don’t know how you survive. 

- Bluntly honest, smart, caring- good good good.

- Always willing to help you

- Very eager to learn 

- Charming and hilarious

ESFP:

- Met two kinds of ESFP’s- shy and standoffish but sweethearts, and GO GO GO GO GOGO GOGOOG.

- Okay so once my ESFP friend slid down a 20 metre long railing with rocks beneath it and I almost died because YOU COULD HAVE DIED

- “I’m looking for a girl that will encourage me to slide down railings.”

- So much love to give, so many hugs.

- Please stop shaking it’s like a big chihuahua

ENFP:

- I can’t keep up with you but it’s so good

- I’m smiling at you in admiration 90% of the time

- Cute 

- Gets everything done somehow and has fun doing it?

- Doesn’t like emotions but is simultaneously the most emotive person ever.

ENTP:

- Everything, I love everything.

- Devils Advocate TM

- Very concerned and caring

- The memes are revolutionary

- Has a joke for every situation

- Cool nerd TM

- Stares at people lovingly when you don’t think I can see you doing it.

ESFJ:

- STOP. WORRYING.

- Takes responsibility for everything

- Actually hilarious

- Loves all boys

- Hates all boys

- Doesn’t give themselves enough credit

ENFJ:

- So much Disney

- So. much.

- Loves INTP’s too much

- Incredibly strong people

- Once they have a vision they go at it full throttle 

- Want’s everyone to be happy

- Hates conflict

ENTJ:

- The grand master

- I am terrified of you but i love you

- Gets it done

- Visionary’s

- Can get caught up sometimes and needs a friend to talk to

- Makes a lot of enemies accidentally, and a lot of the time on purpose

- Get’s annoyed when I make jokes about things that are unrealistic 

-but I keep doing it because I know it annoys you and I’m sorry

Jon and Sansa - Mirroring Dialogue

One thing that happens when characters are meant to be portrayed as a “team” is their dialogue will mirror when they speak to other characters. When together, they might disagree, but they keep a company line when speaking to anyone else. This is really where you see Jon and Sansa’s loyalty to one another.

1) “We’re here because of you…”

For some bizarre reason, some people took this as Sansa being selfish in taking credit for winning Battle of the Bastards. The only reason she talked to Arya like this is because Jon validated her role. He left her in charge. He wants her to know she deserves respect…and so she does! Zero chance she says this without Jon’s s6 words. She wanted to apologize to him before he said it!


2) “You undermine me…”

At the root of it, Jon still does not feel like he deserves to be King in the North. He expressed some hurt to Sansa over her questioning him in the season 7 premiere. Once she realized he was hurt, and not questioning her loyalty..what’d she do? Refused to undermine him even once to an outsider. Keep in mind she still disagrees with him leaving but she will not undermine him.


3) “I’m consumed with the Night King…”

Sansa first criticizes Jon for not focusing on their enemies to the South. Jon essentially shows fear to Sansa. I don’t think she is used to seeing him afraid of any foe. So she takes it seriously. Jon’s priority is her priority. She knows that LF has the pulse of Westerosi politics. But she also can see that he doesn’t take the threat beyond the wall seriously enough. Even if she knows Cersei is a threat, she doesn’t do anything underhanded to prepare for Cersei. She sees Jon’s bigger picture.


4) “You need to be smarter…”

Here we have Jon lamenting that he didn’t listen to Sansa. No other character talked to Jon about “my father’s mistakes” and going South. His bannermen surely told him he should stay, but the specific things Sansa warned him about are what he cites to Tyrion. Bonus points: Sansa is everyone here I guess!


5) “I will not punish…”

Jon shows a gentle heart in his treatment of the Karstarks and Umbers, yes, but he also shows very good strategic decision making. And Sansa immediately recognizes that. When she talks to Arya about NOT beheading people. She instead echoes why refusing to do that helps Jon. Jon taught her something about ruling and the big picture and she held onto it. Sansa needed to teach that to Arya (even if I hated the contrived fighting they had).


This is how partners behave. The only time one questions the other is when Sansa believes she can be candid with Arya, before being shown that Arya doesn’t understand the plan she and Jon have agreed upon. And so Sansa goes back to the company line. I think this speaks as loudly as anything. She tried to talk to Arya like she does to Jon and quickly learned she can’t. She spends the rest of the season, up until their first from-the-heart discussion on the battlements after LF’s execution, simply echoing what she and Jon have discussed. Jon is still Sansa’s anchor point after he leaves. And she spends the whole season holding it together for him. They are functioning like a King and Queen.

Once

So, I wrote a thing and I’ve never written a thing before and shared it so go a little easy on me. 
This idea popped into my mind and idk. Cas is grumpy, human, and a little needy. 

1311 words. 


It was too cold. Since when does the bunker get this cold?  

The sheets were too scratchy. Why are they so scratchy?

His legs ached. Dean was talking too loud.

Cas huffed and gripped his blanket harder, yanking it up to his chin and settling again. This routine was all too familiar; feeling every little fiber of the pillow beneath his head, hearing every shaky breath he inhales. Laying in his feelings. Feelings of all things.

Once, he thought, I was an angel; an all powerful, full authority, eyeball burning angel. Feelings were abstract. Once.

Once.

If he could go back, which, if he were still an angel, he could, would he make the same choices as the first time? The fall, the army, playing God, losing it all, countless mistakes, for a couple of humans? Was humanity worth his downfall?

On the one hand, these mistakes showed Castiel free will. They showed him a way out of being a mindless soldier, that there are things, and people, he had yet to understand, that he wanted to understand. It’s funny to him, really, how he has watched humanity since creation, watching them evolve, adapt, change, break each other, and mend each other. He watched since his own creation, and yet, being here, on Earth, it was so much harder. What’s that saying? Becoming a part of humanity was easier “said than done.” On the other hand, Castiel is looked down upon (literally and figuratively) by his brothers and sisters.

It was worth it. They are worth it. He is worth it. 

His eyelids heavily drooped closed, his head fuzzy. Success.

Why don’t we ever talk about what’s going on? Is there even really something going on? Is it worse to try something and fail, or to not try at all?

Damn his brain, damn it all, for letting him reach the rim of sleep before yanking him back to the beginning. These nights were the worst, when his thoughts wandered to the edge of existential crisis, just enough to charge him with apprehension. He preferred the nights where he lied awake, tossing and turning and thinking, but thinking about things like bees and honey and the flowers; going through the motions of nature, in a state not quite peace or even aggravation from being awake, but somewhere blissfully and ignorantly in between.

It reminds him of Dean. Dean, the righteous man, the savior of his brother, of everyone. The one who started the apocalypse, Michael’s sword, a Knight of Hell, and, no matter how much he denies it, a hero. The fact is, Dean’s helped save hundreds of people, not to mention the world. He’s stopped the world from crashing and burning multiple times. He can’t deny that. How can he deny that he’s a hero when he’s saved so many? Saved Castiel himself?

He was tired. Why couldn’t his brain just settle down and let him get some seemingly deserved sleep?

Huffing for the hundredth time, Cas sat up and grasped his thin, almost hospital-like blanket and wrapped it around himself. He trudged to the door, flinging it open dramatically. As he started down the hall, that gruff and maddening, yet enchanting voice grew louder, causing Cas to grin sleepily despite himself.

What am I doing?

He was so fed up with this. This dancing around, not acknowledging what was always so close, hanging in the air, close enough to touch, but too far to clutch, to hold. He was going to settle this once and for all. If this went sideways, that would make Cas the worst at reading people than anyone in the entirety of his existence.

The walk to the library was long and foreboding. Sam and Dean were still up for some reason, talking. Talking too loud, he might add, about what seemed to be anything and everything; although, that could just be concluded from his irritation.

When he finally approached the war room, his heart started beating double time. The table was occupied by the familiar hooded outlines of the Winchesters, the only sounds being their voices and the beer bottle Dean was holding in his hand and idly rolling on the table. He looked stressed, from what Castiel could tell in the dim lamp light. For some reason, this observation set him off. His mouth went from a soft smile to a hard line as he stomped his way over to Dean.

Sam smiled when he first noticed Castiel. “Hey, Ca-”

Dean was looking at him. Always looking at him. Always staring. Always knowing.

Cas ignored Sam, and stomped straight up to Dean’s seat. Dean furrowed his brow, noticing the grim look on Cas’ face. Of course he’s wearing a damn flannel in the middle of the night.  The flannel pissed him off. It elated him. He grabbed the collar of it.

“Cas, what is going on?” The first time Dean spoke to him that night. Cas ignored him. He yanked his infuriating human up by the collar of his flannel, and began pulling him out of the war room. Sam shot his brother a worried look while Dean’s feet stumbled over themselves, trying to keep up with Cas’s dragging pace. He looked back at Sam with wide eyes and threw his hands up in confusion.

They finally made it back to Cas’s room. When Cas shut the door behind them, Dean finally spoke up again.

“Cas, what the hell, man? What’s going on?”

“You’re so infuriating, you know that? ‘What’s going on’? Sitting there in your dumbass flannel with your beer and your voice.”

“My voice? What are you going on about? You’re not making sense.” Cas ignored him and walked back to him. He grabbed Dean’s flannel again, and began pushing it down his arms. Dean stepped back, face red.

“Woah, man - I don’t-”

“Yes, you do.” Cas held his eyes, challenging him to disagree. Dean huffed and took the flannel off the rest of the way, leaving it on the floor, still looking at Cas with a flushed face. Cas only pointed to the bed, waiting for Dean to comply.

Once dean was flannel-less and moving to lay on the bed, Cas, still drowning in his blanket, made it to the other side of the bed and laid down and got comfortable. Dean hesitated, watching Cas’ every move with careful eyes. Castiel’s eyes, though, were rolling into the back of his head at Dean’s hesitance. He rolled over to face the nervous hunter, reaching out and grabbing his hand. He yanked the man down and onto his bed, grinning smugly when he succeeded.

Cas didn’t want to waste anymore time. He was done playing these games. Of the stares, the feather light touches, the unspoken words, hanging in the air at the end of every conversation with him and Dean.

The former angel rolled back over, still holding Dean’s hand, and scooted backwards until his back was pressed against Dean’s chest. He took Dean’s arm and pulled it across his stomach, keeping his hand on top of Dean’s, interlacing his fingers with his in a backwards hand hold. Dean let out a breath he was holding and relaxed into Castiel, pulling him closer and resting his head between his angel’s shoulder and head, getting a whiff of his own shampoo that Cas borrowed, heat blooming in his chest.

Castiel’s eyes closed, a sleepy smile on his face. Finally. Success.

He could feel Dean’s own lips turned upward as he sighed one last time.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Dean didn’t have to respond. He knew. Cas was asleep in minutes.

Cas used to be an all powerful, full authority, eyeball burning angel once. He gave it all up for one human, mistakenly, he had thought. Once he would have given anything and everything to be what he used to be again, not some weak human being.

Once.

generouslydecadentwinner  asked:

Any thoughts about the idea that Garnet gets no character development outside of being a fusion? I'm trying to see both sides of the argument and was curious about your thoughts on the matter.

(Thanks for the ask! Sorry for the late reply.)

I strongly disagree with that idea. Garnet is very much her own character outside of Sapphire and Ruby and while her development may not be as obvious and forefront as, say, Pearl’s or Peridot’s, it’s still happening. Personally, I see it more as a slow burn development similar to Lapis’. 

I think the episode Three Gems and a Baby showed a great deal of Garnet’s vulnerability. Once the reality sunk in that Rose was gone for good, she took it upon herself to harden up and rise as the new leader of the Crystal Gems. I feel this ep shed a lot of light on her stoic and reserved demeanor for most of Season 1. She’s not the same person now as she was in earlier episodes, and her big reveal as a fusion wasn’t the only reason for that change. 

To say that Garnet doesn’t have any character development outside of fusion, would be saying that she possesses no character flaws. But we know that’s not true. Her biggest character flaw (imo) is her occasional dishonesty towards Steven. She withholds information from him, gets heated when he argues with her (when he’s 100% right to do so), and has even lied to him on at least two occasions. This isn’t a trait only unique to Ruby or Sapphire. This is Garnet’s. 

Assuming Garnet did lie to Steven about Rose shattering PD, Garnet will eventually have to a) come clean about the lie, or b) answer to Steven if/when he finds out that she violated his unwavering trust by painting his mother as a murderer. So yeah, there’ll be lots of character development there! (And most likely tears!)

Pink Diamond was born on Earth!

Why else is there a huge hole in Russia??

And why is Pink Diamond seen bursting out of the ground?

It’s not uncommon for us to think Pink Diamond was the “youngest” of the Diamonds, but… what if we’re right, and she was. Where was she born?
I offer up this idea: Pink Diamond was born on Earth, with the intent of starting a colony on Earth once she was ‘of age’ to do so. This is why the Moon Base is White, because Pink Diamond was still learning how to lead.

I hear Pink diamond is thought to be a military commander, and I don’t necessarily disagree with that idea. It could be what happened was: Homeworld tried to grow their influence and power and made Pink Diamond in an effort to achieve that. Pink Diamond started making Quartzes, and instead of being unquestionably loyal warriors, they ended up with gems that were too independent for their own good, ultimately leading to the Gem War.

Due to this “You’ll have to excuse them, they’re from Earth” mentality, and the idea that Pink’s zoo is seen as a sort of “weird fascination”; I think this points to Earth being Pink’s birthplace.

Also, another idea why Earth is Pink’s birthplace, note the Murals:

Every diamond is gazing at a planet. What if these planets are where the Diamonds were made?

I may be wrong, but it’s interesting isn’t it?

How Do I Look? - Jughead x Reader

Request — Anonymous asked: Hi! So I was wondering if you could do an imagine where the reader is chubby and she has a crush on jughead but she doubts herself? Thanks so much

A/N — Aaa, I thought this request was too cute! I related to this a lot, since I do have BDD and I constantly put myself down for my weight, I know how hard it can be to accept yourself for you are. If you are going through a rough time about something similar and if you ever feel like you don’t fit in because of the way you look, I’m sure you guys are absolutely stunning. Everyone has their flaws and it can be hard to deal with on a daily basis, but trust me, you’re beautiful. I hope you enjoy!

Words: 1135

Warnings: Negative self talk, weight issues

(Y/N) , (S/C) , (Y/L/N) , (E/C) — Your name, skin colour, your last name, eye colour

She just stared at herself through the mirror in her room. She stared over what she was wearing, how she was wearing it, and what she thought about herself wearing it. It started from the top of her head to the bottom of her ankles. A shaky exhale managed to escape her lips, fighting back negative thoughts that surrounded her mind. (Y/N) was getting ready for a party that night. Her best friend and childhood crush, Jughead Jones, was over at her house as he was staying the night. You picked out what you were planning to wear to the party, something casual and not too fancy, just anything that made you feel comfortable. Once again, you eyed yourself over at the black skirt that clung to your (S/C) hips with a grey shirt tucked into it. Jughead walked out from the bathroom, finished getting changed as he didn’t want to invade your privacy.

“Almost ready?” He said, looking down at his phone as he was texting Archie for details. “As much as I hate parties, free food and music isn’t too bad.” He chuckled still keeping his eyes on his phone as he finished off writing his text, putting it in the back of his jeans as he finally made eye contact with you. His eyes widening, so captivated by such a beautiful sight, he was literally speechless. He swallowed hard, stuttering for the right words to come out so he didn’t make a full out of himself in front of such a stunning being. (Y/N) turned around from looking at herself in the mirror, now facing Jughead as her (E/C) eyes met his blue ones.

“W-Why are you staring? Is it the outfit? I-I knew I should have changed, and God it’s last minute, we’ll be late for the party!” (Y/N) blurted out, everything that could possibly go wrong rushed through her head. Jughead knew that she was freaking out about going the party, honestly he wouldn’t blame her, as he himself wasn’t in such a party mood, but anything to please the luck of the chances of getting somewhere with his all time crush, (Y/N), he did anything to make her happy.

“(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N), d-don’t freak out. What’s bothering you, can I help out?” Jughead asked, now scared that he did something wrong like walking in while she was still getting ready. He places his hands on her shoulders keeping her still.

“It’s just…” She paused. “I look so fat. What am I saying, I am so fat. All I see all the time is fat attached to my skin. Why can’t I just look like Betty or Veronica or Cheryl? T-They have the most perfect ideal bodies and I’m just the chubby girl.” You explained, tears now forming in your eyes. Jughead now could clearly tell that this issue had been upsetting you for a while as she told him. Although to Jughead, he never noticed her weight or her appearance in a bodily manner until she pointed it out until now. Jughead, since he could remember, loved (Y/N) for her beauty as well as her personality.

“So what you’re telling me is that you think you’re fat? (Y/N), come here for a ‘sec.” Jughead pulled you over to him, staring straight into your eyes, before he slowly turned you around as you now faced the mirror that knew you so fondly. “What do you see?”

“Everything wrong with myself. My hips, my thighs, my arms, I see an ugly person.” She fought back breaking down in front of him, as she closed her eyes so she didn’t want to look anymore longer. She paused, opening her eyes. “Juggie? What do you see?”

“Well, do you want to know what I see? I see the most beautiful girl a guy could ever meet. I see the most beautiful best friend who I’ve come to cherish for so many years. Do you really want to know what I see?” Jughead walked closer behind you, now standing against you as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind as he laid his chin to rest on your shoulder, leaning down to match each other’s height. “I see you as I’ve seen, a-and came to love.” That caught you by surprise. In a million years, you never thought that your crush, Jughead Jones, loved you back. Yet again would use that specific term in general, as you knew so much about his past and his family and friends. You turned around, now facing him as his hands still held onto your waist. His gaze was deep into yours, gulping hard once again as he figured out something to say, that was until (Y/N) caught him off guard.

“Jughead Jones, do you realise that you are the most gorgeous human I have ever met with the most beautiful soul?” She asked, placing her hand up to rest on his cheek, as he smiled down at her.

“I agree to disagree, but thank you. It… it really means a lot.” Jughead smiled back at her.

“Also, about what you said before… d-do you love me?” She bit down on her bottom lip. Jughead looked down, before adjusting the beanie that clung onto the back of his head.

“I… yes. I have for, God, I don’t even know how long. But yes, I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” He looked down at her, hoping there would be a hopeful reaction to have come out of her. A tear quickly ran down her cheek, her first instinct before she broke out into a cheesy grin. Jughead quickly freaked out, thinking it was a turn for the worse. “W-what’s wrong? W-Was it something I said?” You giggled, looking up at him as he wiped that tear that was still stuck to your cheek.

“No, no, no! Jug, I’m okay, just relax will you?” You laughed, feeling now both of his hands now placed on your cheeks. “I’m crying out of happiness, I-I never thought you’d like me back.” At this point, Jughead was now laughing along with you as he held onto your face.

“Can I kiss you, now?” He asked, trying to stop laughing until you stood up onto your tiptoes to meet your lips with his, closing both of your eyes as you shared your moment together until finally pulling away.

“Do you mind if we ditch? I’d rather stay home and have a horror movie marathon.” (Y/N) suggested, placing her forehead against Jughead’s.

“Can we please?!” Jughead asked in such an excited tone, removing his forehead from hers, taking her hand as they both rushed downstairs to the living room.

A/N — No offence, but I’m incredibly proud of myself for writing this. I thought the ending was cute and honestly, would you rather go to a party or stay home alone with Jughead to have a movie marathon? Once again, I hope you enjoyed!

Relentless | Calum Hood Series Pt.3

Originally posted by michaelsrighteyebrow

                                               Part T H R E E

Request: Being the cousin of Ashton Irwin was exciting, especially when invited to their tour to hang out with his best friends. You found yourself becoming fond of Calum Hood, who finds you annoying from your constant appearance. But what would happen if you stopped giving him that attention?

Word Count: 3k+

A/N: i actually really like this part so i hope you guys do, too!! please try and get this to 100 notes (the regular) and im so happy a lot of you are enjoying it. i love your responses abt it so much, it makes me smile lots :] ty bubbas ‘n enjoy !!

Parts: one, two, threefour, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty. [DONE]

                                                   I M A G I N E 

 Flight to Helsinki, Finland, 3 Hours In

“Switch with me,” Luke spewed out as you put your magazine down and looked up at him. He was holding tightly on your seat while the plane was entering light turbulence. “Hurry!”

Keep reading

Hey guys, my Conspiracy crew, can you do something for me? For yourselves? For literally everyone on this site? Please don’t fight with strangers on the Internet. After all these years I still don’t understand why we’re doing this. There are SO many people on this site that don’t like what we have to say and you know what? That’s perfectly fine. Don’t fight them. Don’t call them names. And you know what else? Don’t stick up for yourselves when they do it to you. Yeah. I’m suggesting you take it.

Everyone on this site is trying to have fun. I get dragged all the time but I’ve never once, not once in a year on this site, engaged someone who vehemently disagreed with me. Anyone can check my blog, you’ll never find an example of me 1) attaching myself to other’s posts to disrespect them 2) publishing hateful anons 3) Calling anyone names 4) giving the microphone to people who don’t like me. It’s not hard.

I once lost 40 followers in one day a few months ago because I stuck up for a Sheriarty blog who, I believed, made a good point. And you know what? Good. I didn’t want those people on my blog anyways.

People are going to attack you all day long. Stay in your own lane. Use the appropriate tags. Don’t take everything personally. We’re here to have fun. How can you possibly have fun arguing with strangers about a TV show? Block who you need to. Avoid certain tags.

People are going to read your blog. They decide if they like what you have to say or if they don’t. The choice is always theirs. No need to assert your ideas to people who don’t agree with you or don’t like what you have to say. Those who want to listen, they will stay. And, honestly, most of those bloggers you don’t like will leave you alone if you leave them alone.

You don’t have to listen to anything i just said, if you don’t want to. This is just a suggestion. But I’m having a great time on this site because I get back what I put in.

#238: You Cuddle After Sex

A/N:

Requested: Yes //  Find my Masterlist here

Luke:

”Isn’t this lovely?” He asked silently and looked up at the night clouds, stars poking out if you looked closely. You looked up from his chest to stare at him, his fingers lightly dancing over the skin of your spine and slowly formed goosebumps on your arms. “What? The view or you?” You teasingly questioned and shut your eyes just for a brief moment, feeling his chest vibrate in chuckles. You still had your eyes closed but you could tell his smile was growing, shaking his head with a deep blush coming to his cheeks. The wind was cod against his bare shoulders and he could hear the ocean loud from below the balcony but otherwise than that everything was quiet. Your nude bodies were heating each other up below the towel that was wet from the swim, feeling how everything felt so peacefully, the sounds of palm trees brushing their leaves by the wind. “Both,” He agreed, making you look up at him from his chest. “Both the view and you are fantastically lovely.” Shaking your head by his cheesiness you focused back on the navy blue ocean, feeling how your stomach was erupting with a million butterflies.

Calum:

“You know I can already feel tomorrow morning I won’t be able to walk properly.” Your words came out innocent but the way Calum was looking down at you told various other emotions. He was having a wide smirk growing on his face along with his eyebrows wiggling, he didn’t have to say anything to let you know the many different things that were going through his mind at once. “Was it really that bad? You sounded so different during the process.” He laughed more quietly to himself than you, watching you turn around so your stomach was resting on the mattress but your cheek was still pressed against his arm. He was having that smile on his face that told he was so comfortable and by one glance down at the sheets that was barely covering his lower parts you couldn’t stop yourself from hiding your giggling face. “Stop…” He requested sternly but still with softness in his tone and you furrowed your eyebrows confused but continued to make the same face. “Stop being so insanely cute.” He whispered and lowered his lips to your bare shoulder, giving a gentle kiss. “It drives me nuts.”

Michael:

“I think that must have been our record.” He breathlessly said once he had finally calmed down from his heart beating twice its rhythm, his back pressed against the mattress with your head on top of his shoulders. The sheets were messily scattered by the half part of the bed but even if you had disagreed and said it would be too hot Michael had still decided to throw it over your nude bodies just for the coziness. “I can’t believe you’re counting.” You laughed and felt how your eyes followed the lines on the ceiling, your heart beating so harshly you could almost feel it in your chest. “I can’t believe you haven’t cuddled me yet.” “That’s because we’re both sweaty and hot.” A dry laugh came from his lips by your words and he leaned down effortlessly to  grab you by the hips and pull you on top of his glistering chest. “That’s nonsense.” He laughed in disagreement and wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you as close as possible and allowed you both to feel how hard your hearts were pounding. “Naked cuddles are my favourite kind of cuddles. There’s no way we’re letting that thing out.”

Ashton:

“We’re never getting out of this bed I’m too comfortable.” He hummed into your ear ever so carefully, yet his words left goosebumps erupt on both your arms that were closely wrapped up in his. His bare chest was breathing heavily against your back, your legs intertwined and a satisfied smile came to his face once he lightly ghosted his hand over your butt. “And this isn’t always I get the chance to touch this without any fabric.” You rolled your eyes by his words and turned around to look at him, his messy sex hair sticking to every direction possible but that didn’t make him less cute than he already was. “We should go shower.” You mentioned, the smell of sweat wouldn’t leave the bedroom and if it was coming from someone it was definitely coming from Ashton. He shook his head in disagreement and placed his head back on top of your bare chest, his hand coming down to rub your skin once again just because he actually could do it. “Can’t, your butt and I have a special meeting in our bed.” He giggled and opened his tired eyes to look at you, giving your butt a small smack.

anonymous asked:

Hi there! Hope you are feeling better, and thank you so much for creating YCPfE. Not sure if you're still accepting kink prompts, but you mentioned that Viktor waxes 8D So.. just wondering if we could get a scene where he waxes Yuuri. Thought it'd be pretty hilarious and well. Sexy. Thank you!! :3

I don’t think I’ll be able to put it in YCPfE, so here’s a little something for you:


“Are you sure about this?” Yuuri asks Victor warily as he sits on the edge of the soft table.

“It’s fine,” Victor nods with a smile. “I get it done all the time. It doesn’t hurt that much.”

Yuuri crosses his arms across his chest to cover his nipples that are peaked because of the cool air in the room. “Yeah, well, I’ve got sensitive skin,” Yuuri pouts. Victor is just as peculiar about his skin-care regimen, so Yuuri believed him when he told Yuuri that he’d enjoy the feeling of being waxed. 

“It’s better for you than shaving,” He’d said. 

But Yuuri is starting to get more nervous the closer it gets to having hot wax on him. Because Victor has convinced him to go all-out. Which meant he’d made an appointment for not just his chest (although, what was the point, really, since he barely had any hair on the majority of his torso), but also his… down there. 

“It’ll feel so good at the end, though,” Victor says. Yuuri has the distinct feeling he’s not actually doing it for himself, but it’s for Victor. He was fine sticking to trimming and shaving, honestly. But it’s hard to say no to Victor when he brings out those puppy dog eyes he’s learned from Maccachin. 

There’s a light tap on the door before a young woman enters quietly. “Hello Mr. Katsuki,” she says, closing the door behind her. 

“Hello,” he nods. He’s not sure if he’d prefer his esthetician to be male or not. But since she has a special certificate to work on… well, balls, he figures that he might as well trust her. 

Victor gives her a dazzling smile. “I’m Victor. I hope it’s okay for me to be here. Yuuri really wants the emotional support, you know.”

She smiles back and nods. “Sure. Okay, and if you’re ready to start, I’ll just ask you to take off your underwear, Mr. Katsuki,” she says, setting up her supplies next to the wax that’s already hot to the side of the table. 

Victor, for his part, moves away and around the other side so he’s completely out of the way. Yuuri takes one last look at Victor and then at the woman before carefully stepping off the table and slipping out of his boxers. 

He carefully lays down, face-up, on the table, keeping his eyes on the ceiling instead of what the woman is doing. He doesn’t really want to see the hot wax because he might chicken out. Victor just grins down at him.

After a few moments, the woman turns back to him, having everything prepped and ready. “If you’re ready, Mr. Katsuki, we’ll start.”

He doesn’t say anything, just gives a quick nod. 

After doing a quick cleansing, she starts with his chest, smearing hot wax across the part with hair. The pain when she rips it off is more than he’s used to and his eyes tingle with a couple reflexive tears. He glares up at Victor, who is still grinning. 

“Did you want to hold my hand?” Victor coos. 

Yuuri is about to say ‘no’, but the next strip is just as painful, and he automatically moves his hand to grasp Victor’s. It hurts, but thankfully it’s a pain he can live with. 

But then, once she’s finished with his chest, she moves further down. She directs his legs open so she has full access. There’s not a lot of people that have seen this part of him and he feels fairly self-conscious with a stranger peering at his bits. But Victor squeezes his hand lightly and distracts him for a moment. 

There’s only so much distracting he can do, however, because as soon as the first bit is ripped off, Yuuri knows this was a bad idea. It hurts so badly. “I hate you,” he tells Victor. “You’re an asshole.”

Victor just laughs. 

He was lying, the bastard. Just because he’s had it done for years and is impervious to the pain now doesn’t mean Yuuri won’t hurt. 

“You owe me,” Yuuri tells him through gritted teeth after the next pull. Victor just keeps laughing. 


“It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Victor asks once they’re out of the salon and on their way home. 

“It was,” Yuuri disagrees. 

“It would have been better if she was nice enough to let me put the lotion on at the end,” Victor muses, finger pressed to his lips.

“I’m glad. She was efficient. You would have taken your time and I just wanted it to be over.” Yuuri tells him. 

“But it feels good now, right? Nice and smooth.”

“Smooth, yes, but it still kind of hurts,” Yuuri frowns. 

“I can’t wait to take a look myself,” Victor says. “Feel how smooth you are.”

That makes Yuuri look over at him. Victor’s biting his bottom lip. And suddenly understands why Victor had requested he do this. 

“…I expect kisses to make it feel better,” he says.

Victor looks over at him with excitement in his eyes. “Oh. I’ll be thorough.”

maruboi  asked:

Now that Laurent and Damen are married I love the idea of disagreeing on something in court and using time together to convince the other? Like Damen brings a bouquet and Laurents like "aw cute still not using your trading route mon amour." Or Laurent let's Damen do whatever he wants in bed and Damens like "that was fantastic if only your idea for the trading route was just as good querido."

Yes! 

I love the idea of them retaining their own individuality even once they marry and rule jointly. They are separate people with their own priorities and strategies when ruling their countries. They certainly learn from each other: Damen learns from Laurent that not everyone is as genuine as him and Laurent will tell him if he believes a kyroi is going to revolt, and Damen might take Laurent’s policies and be like ‘…you do know it doesn’t have to be this complicated, don’t you? We can get the same result if we just do it this more straight forward way’ and both listen to each other. 

I love the thought of them retaining their ground and actively trying to convince each other that their idea is better with proper reports and statistics and evidence and just acting like kings about it until they come to an agreement. 

I also love the idea that they can separate their public and private lives, so they know if they disagree about trade routes, that doesn’t change their personal relationship. Same with if they have a private argument, they don’t let it affect their kingship and nine times out of ten, the councillors will never even know they have disagreed privately. 

All the yes for Laurent and Damen being competent kings in their own rights and retaining their individuality whilst being in a committed and healthy and loving relationship!

How To Tell Ned (Part 2 to I Knew It!)

Word Count: 1326

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader Soulmate AU

Featuring: Peter Parker, You, Ned Leeds, Michelle

Summary: The day after finding out who your soulmate is, you have to face everyone at school. Questions are dodged, and friends get frustrated throughout the day.Part 2 to I Knew It!

Warning: Slight Spider-Man: Homecoming Spoilers ahead. 

Request: Anon said: Please do a part 2 to the soulmate story. It’s amazing 😚😚

A/N: Here you guys go! Part 2! I never was planning on doing one, but after seeing the request I decided to do one. And boy, am I glad that I did. I really like this. Sorry if Ned and Michelle are out of character. It’s my first time writing either of them.

Originally posted by parkerpete

Part 1


Your POV

“Wait, how do we tell Ned?”

That was a good question. It probably contributed to Peter staying at your house until 3 am, but not too much considering all that had happened.

After your tears of joy finally stopped, and both you and Peter agreed there was some explaining to do, the conversation got interesting. And by that, it means you slapped Peter in the face for not telling you he was Spider-Man when apparently the rest of your friend group knew.

He tried to defend himself, saying Ned found out on accident, and Michelle pieced it together herself after DC, but you still grilled him about it.

Keep reading

HEALER OF HEARTS [GEORGE WEASLEY]

summary: in which george weasley injures himself on purpose after one interesting conversation with a healer at st. mungo’s hospital for magical maladies and injuries.

a/n: i don’t know, i had this idea after rereading the chapter in order of the phoenix where they visit arthur and you know blah blah. this takes place like maybe 2 years or more after the battle of hogwarts. (also, excuse my bad reasons for making george go bc i’m not familiar too much lmao and sorry too for my lack of knowledge in treating things)

p.s. expect a part two 😊

Masterlist + Request here!

     It was very unlikely for George Weasley to commit mistakes now that he has almost mastered all of the techniques in doing the products he sold at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes — though ever since his twin brother died and was no longer there to help him, things were getting out of hand and he found himself injuring himself more than usual, much to his chagrin.

     Now, he was walking along the corridors of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in deep resentment to the dragon that he tried getting a sample from for another one of his future projects, clutching onto his hand that hurt like mad, eager to go to the healer to get it done.

     As he entered the room, the smell of various potions hit him hard, but it didn’t seem to bother him too much because when he recovered, his eyes slightly widened at the sight of the beautiful girl who was treating a young boy, apparently already finished wrapping the bandage on its leg when their eyes met, the stranger focusing her gaze then on George’s injured hand where the dragon burned him.

     "Bloody hell.“ She widened her eyes, grabbing her wand from her pocket and approaching him. "What happened?”

    George’s mouth felt dry as he stared at her in awe.

    “Sir,” said the healer, “what happened?” she repeated for he didn’t manage to reply.

    “What?” asked George, staring at her eyes before glancing at his hand that was throbbing. “Oh, uh, I got burned.”

     She tried to suppress a snort but failed. “Burned by what? I need details, Sir.”

     "Call me George, Sir makes me feel old.“ smiled George (Merlin’s beard, kill me now. he thought to himself for his bad attempt to flirt). "And I was burned by a dragon. Yep, those big nasty creatures.”

     "Okay, George.“ She chuckled because of his behavior. "Why don’t we go over there and I’ll treat it for you?”

    George nodded. “Sure, do anything you want.”

    The healer gave him a funny look but it didn’t look like she was mad about it. Shrugging, she nodded at the vacant bed where George obeyed her instructions and sat down, watching her carefully as she summons an empty basin. While he squinted his eyes a little bit, he saw her name in front of her white robes.

      “Y/L Y/L/N.” muttered George louder than intended, the witch’s eyes glancing at him as she whips her wand and a blue liquid got out of the end of it. “Er — just reading your name tag.” He pointed at it with his free hand.

      She smiled, placing the basin beside him once she was done. “Well, regarding about your condition, it’s a good thing it’s only a second-degree burn. Just put your hand inside this — it’ll hurt but only for like a minute or two — and just keep it in there for fifteen more minutes, alright?”

      George nodded, following what she said and pushing his fist with the burned area inside. He yelped and almost pulled away because of the extreme pain he was feeling, more painful when the dragon burned him. Y/N though seemed to be anticipating it and held him in place, a hand on his wrist.

      “If you let go and put it back, it’ll hurt more.” She said.

      He winced. “How long again?”

      She gave him a breathtaking grin. “One more minute.”

      “But that —” he gritted his teeth when the pain grew worse “ — takes so long.”

      “Then you shouldn’t have played with a dragon.” pointed out Y/N.

       "I wouldn’t count it as playing.“ disagreed George with another wince. "More like extracting a sample for experimental purposes?”

       She raised an eyebrow. “Was it worth it?”

       "Yeah, kind of.“ His hand began to feel numb.

       Y/N looked down on the basin and it was the first time George noticed that it was boiling, the stinging sensation he felt a while ago fading away. She gently let go of his wrist (George frowning), and grabbed her wand once again.

        "Does it still hurt?” asked Y/N.

        He shook his head. “Not anymore. Thanks.”

        “Just doing my job.” She stated proudly. “Let it stay there for fifteen minutes, okay? Then call me when it’s done. I’m just going to assist another patient.” added Y/N, activating a timer on the bedside table.

         He didn’t get the chance to say yes for she was already walking away, not noticing that the red-haired boy was staring at her in utter amazement. And in that moment, George was absolutely sure that he wouldn’t let this meeting the first and last one to occur, thinking of hundred of ways on how to talk go her again after this.


         "George Weasley.“ mused the healer when he came to the hospital a week after. "What is it this time?”

         Blood was dripping out of his leg and she sighed, noticing that he had two punctures on his skin which automatically made her go behind him (since he was sat on a wheel chair) and push him to the nearest empty bed with effort. George noticed that her hair was tied up in very messy ponytail and she seemed to be in a tired state, dark circles already getting visible under her eyes.

         "Let me guess, this is a snake bite isn’t it?“ asked Y/N with a disapproving tone, carefully prompting his injured leg up so that she can see better.

         He nodded. "Yes, uh, had some trouble with one while trying to gain a sample.”

        “A sample for what?”

        “For a product. Er — heard that the venom of this snake wasn’t deadly but instead created realistic hallucinations, so I tried to get a sample.”

        She brought out her cleaning materials for the wound. “Is the venom —”

        “Yep, already got it out. Just went here for cleaning.”

        Y/N paused for a second to observe him before officially cleaning up his injury. “Something tells me that this isn’t the first time you’ve done this.”

       "You’re right.“ said George. "Actually, I know how to treat this myself but I guess I wanted to take the opportunity and go here to see you again.”

       She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Wait, you’ve been bitten before?”

        George nodded, slightly disappointed that she didn’t ask about the fact that he quite purposely messed up just to gain a reason to go to St. Mungo’s, “Countless of times, to be honest — ouch!” he frowned at the wand she was holding, gliding it across the wound that he felt a sharp pain all of the sudden.

        “Sorry, just wanted to make sure the venom’s all gone.” said Y/N, taking away her wand and moving on to her cleaning kit. “So, are you some kind of Magizoologist or something?”

        “No, I run a joke shop at Diagon Alley. I’m surprised you’re not familiar with it because not to be boastful, but it’s gotten pretty big.” smirked George as she carefully dabs the spot where he was bitten with a white cloth.

        She glanced at him momentarily. “Well, I’ve never been to Diagon Alley exactly.”

       "What? Then how would you get your things to go to Hogwarts?“

        Her face became a light shade of pink. "I — um — never attended Hogwarts. I used to live in America, attended a different school that I think you do not know of.” shrugged Y/N.

       "What school?“

       "Ilvermorny.” said Y/N, smiling at his puzzled expression. “See? You’re clueless.”

       He furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, then how come you don’t have an American accent?”

      She shrugged yet again. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve been living here for too long, picked up the English accent myself.”

       "Oh, that makes sense.“ said George. "Maybe I’ll take you to Diagon Alley sometimes. I mean, if you’d like.”

        “Maybe after I finish treating your leg.” chuckled Y/N.

        “Like, today?”

        She grinned. “I can make some time if you’re up to it but preferably, I’d want you to heal completely so that you can give me a proper tour.”

       "Is it a date then?“ pushed the red-haired Weasley. Go big or go home, right? He thought to himself.

       Y/N didn’t answer quickly at first, concentrating on patching him up. He patiently waited though and after what seemed like forever — but in reality was only for twelve seconds — she gave him another beautiful grin, inevitably making him quite weak to the knees if his leg wasn’t injured at all.

       "A date it is then, George.” She gently wrapped a bandage around his wound once she had it thoroughly cleaned. “Should we meet somewhere or —”

      “No, I’ll just go here and pick you up.” said George too quickly. “Is Saturday good?”

      “Saturday is best. That’s my leave.” A chuckle escaped her lips once more. “Well, you’re all done now.” She gently patted the bandage. “I hope the next time we see each other, it’ll be on that date and not another injury, alright?”

      George nodded. “No problem. Now that I have a reason to see you again, I won’t purposely mess up.”

      She rolled her eyes. “You’re crazy for thinking that way.”

     "Yeah, I might be.“ grinned George, looking forward to getting to know the healer that, in his opinion, was too good to be true.