god i'm writing this though

someone in my class: my god this is so easy why are we going over it in class

me:

*calls research institute that only deals with rarest of endocrine cases and wonders if case is rare enough*

‘hi i have a genetic disease called the SDHD fault help me’ (heavily paraphrased)

‘oh that is very rare’

‘yes can you help me’

‘yes i think so can you get your doctor to give you an indefinite referral’

‘wait indefinite? oh, that’s right, it’s incurable’

‘yes, it is’

‘so my case is rare enough?’

‘yes, it is’

‘so i’ll probably see [desirable professor who has been recommended to me by desirable professor in Sydney but is extremely hard to see who only holds a clinic for two hours once a week and like at this point i’m pretty sure i’ll see Santa before i see him]?’

‘indeed it is his area and yes he is rarer than a unicorn but i think he’ll make an exception for your case.’

‘hey cool, i hope you have an awesome day thank you for helping me’

‘remember the referral needs to be indefinite.’

*hangs up*

my life is really weird at the moment.

anonymous asked:

jsyk i heckin miss iinyh :(((

AWWW I MISS IT TOO!!! Luckily, though, I may have more free time in the future since exams just ended! I’ve been working a bit more and still have a project in every class (OTL) but I’m going to try and get back into the swing of writing regularly! You can expect an update in a week or so!

Not to sound like an impatient, needy fan but I really need the next part of the Voltron comic to be released ASAP

I’ve been obsessed with the idea of Grog being taken over by Craven Edge pretty much since the damn thing was introduced, and after talking with @nomercivalpercival endlessly I had to write it, I have been sitting on this for months because I wrote it once and it ended at the wrong point.

I tried to take the speaking bits at the beginning from the actual episode, I may have missed a few bits though

I am a terrible person but writing this made me so happy, I love painful angst

Keep reading

you broke into being
with a clash of cymbals and pain;
years later a part of you remained,
blindly grief-stricken—
a feeling lasting for always.
it’s almost like you chose to mourn for life
in its entirety; unwisely, without restraint—
a self-imposed state of sorrow for whatever was.
no one understood that when you cried,
you cried with dying stars
and everyone who grew up lost;
all the lives you did not know
that spelled stories of bitter ends,
dreams impossibly shattered,
a pain as familiar as breathing.
you would bear the world’s burdens
to spare its aching hearts;
(if only they could be untangled.
if only they were not one and the same.)
—  a soul’s lament || a. cho
[ncis:la] from the same cloth (1/2)

Scene Rewrite / Character Swap ficlet – 2x15: Tin Soldiers
(in which “Esme” reads Deeks’ palm instead of Callen’s)
by: asthedayisfading // jessica237

“Time to bait the hook, boys.”

At Sam’s prompt, Callen and Deeks approach the bar. In his head, Deeks is running his lines - a collection of his typical clever, smooth, bar pick-up lines combined with a few well-chosen, incredibly direct, obnoxious remarks guaranteed to ruffle Kensi’s feathers and have her summoning club security and, invariably, getting the attention of Singh.

But before he has the chance to even open his mouth, Callen jumps a step ahead, doing to him what Deeks so very often does to his own partner during investigations - taking what they’d planned and changing it completely around on the spot.

Luckily, Deeks is much better at playing that game than Kensi is.

(He’s just annoyed that he’ll have to find some other opportunity to impress his partner with his clever lines.)

Keep reading

2

Behind the Scenes vs. Episode: 1x17

Anonymous: Jealous!Sasil could be either one of them ;)

@saturnineaqua: wouldnt it be fun to see sasil be frisky, and in love, and conversing, instead of going headlong into tragedy???

@davegroehlsdrums: a possible prompt: Sally Ann tells Hasil about getting stood up once before. Prom maybe? Dunno.


The afternoon had slipped through their fingers so easily, so quickly, making Hasil wish he somehow had the power to suspend time, to encase this moment in glass and then remain in it with her for the rest of his days. 

They hadn’t been doing much at all, just talking, sitting side by side, telling stories in quiet voices and learning each other’s ways. She had told him about growing up down below the mountain, all the wild stories she had heard as a child about his family, and how the older boys would dare each other to take a brief foray onto Farrell land in the low foothills of the mountain, only to run back in panic after being spooked by the snap of a branch or a bird flapping by. She told him about her schooling, how she had learned about the world and everything in it, how she had read books written by people who lived and died hundreds of years ago. He had just listened, entranced, his heart filled with wonder that such things were possible, just as he felt a sudden wave of melancholy with the realization that these things – for now at least – remained beyond his grasp. 

He had finally thought to ask her about the words she had used to describe their failed attempt at a date, what it had meant when she said she’d been “stood up” before. It hadn’t involved standing up so much as sitting down, she said, waiting for an arrival, a knock on the door, until finally having to admit that no one would be coming. He hadn’t been the first, he remembered her saying, and now he understood the full import of that statement, how he had just seemed like another in a long line of men that had made her promises and failed to deliver on them. But she was wrong about the other part – he would be the last. Because at this moment, Hasil swore to himself that wouldn’t give her any cause to doubt him ever again.  

Inside his cabin, it had grown dark, the light slowly fading away and the shadows lengthening into the corners of the room. Already, he could hear the twilight sounds, all the creaking and calling from the wilds beyond, a music as familiar to him as his own breathing.

He stood up, stretching a little on his feet, as he walked over to the table where he had a pair of hand-held lanterns. He was lighting the first one when he saw her lean half-way off the mattress so she could reach for something inside her bag.

“Almost forgot,” she said. “Brought something for you.”

“Ya didn’t bring nothin’ for me,” he said, smiling at the ridiculousness of her thought that he might want anything else up here besides just her.

“I did. Grabbed it from work yesterday. And it’s not much – don’t get too excited.” 

As she sat back down on the bed, he could see what she held, fully within the grasp of her palm, bright and round. He knew what it was, of course, but it had been a long time since he’d seen one.

“It’s an orange, Hasil.”

“I know…” he replied. “I’s seen an orange b‘fore… it’s jus’… Ya brought this for me?”

“Yeah… well, I thought maybe we could share it.” And then she smiled, dropping her gaze in that tiny way that always made his heart turn in circles within his chest. 

“Here,” she said, as she started to dig her thumbnail into the rind. But even as he lit the second lantern and put it back down on the table, he could see that she had only been able to peel off tiny bits of the surface. “Sorry,” she said, quickly looking up at him. “My nails are short…” 

“Lemme have it,” he said, taking it from her outstretched hand just as he pulled his knife out of its sheath on his belt. With a single continuous motion, he spiraled his knife across its circumference, until all that was left was a long strip of bright orange rind and the fruit itself, which he passed back to her. The smell of it – fresh and sweetly ripe – permeated the small space, filling the corners of his mind, even as it was currently occupied with thoughts of how the evening shadows were dancing across the tiny curves of her face. 

“C’mon,” she said, tilting her head towards the open space next to her on the mattress as she dug her fingertips into the flesh of the orange. She handed him a piece, and he was just about to taste it when he could hear the stir of movement from outside his cabin. Not an animal, he knew, not with the shuffling scrape of feet against the dirt, not with the faint cry of combined male voices joined in easy companionship.

He handed her back the orange slice, silently lifting his index finger to his lips, just as he heard the first words from outside.

“Hasil, ya in there?”

He recognized the voice as belonging to his second cousin, Micah, and from the sound of it, there were a few others with him, probably not more than thirty feet away from his front door.

Giving her one last look, one tiny nod of the head in mutual understanding, he scrambled off the bed and trotted outside into the darkness. There were a half-dozen of his cousins, including Micah, clearly on their way somewhere.

“Hey,” he said, as casually as he could manage. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“We’s all headed down to the barn. Gonna enjoy som’ brew, play som’ black an’ red. Ya comin’?”

“Nah, not t’night,” Hasil answered.

“Ah, c’mon, now. ‘S gon’ be a good time.” Micah raised his eyebrows at him appraisingly. “Lu’ceel Shay’s gon’ be there, friendly as ever. An’ we all know she’s got her eyes set on ya.”

“A fine offer, cuz,” Hasil said. “But ta tell ya the truth, I’s feelin’ a tad indisposed t’night, so I think I may be forced ta decline.”

“Ya sure?” Micah asked.

“Yeah,” Hasil replied. “But y’all enjoy ya’selves…”

Back inside his cabin it was still and quiet – which was good, as he wasn’t sure his cousins were quite out of hearing distance yet – but then he looked at her, her face cool and impassive, and it became clear that she wasn’t meeting his gaze, her eyes deliberately fixed on a spot along the floorboards. He wasn’t sure what he might have done to upset her, but he knew he needed to fix it, and quickly.

“Sally-Ann…” he said softly, finding a seat across from her on the mattress.

“Lu’ceel Shay, huh?” she asked, still not looking at him. “‘Got her eyes set on you’?”

A wave of fear washed over him as he realized that she might have gotten the wrong idea after overhearing his conversation with Micah. 

“Look, don’t ya worry ‘bout that none, don’t ya worry ‘bout Lu’ceel Shay,” he said imploringly. “‘Cause ya know I only got eyes for one girl.” 

“Another girl on the mountain?” She didn’t look up, but he could see the corners of her mouth turning in barely-contained amusement, and then he breathed a little easier, knowing that her displeasure was all for show, that she was just playing with him a little.

“Nah, not on the mountain,” he replied.

“Down in town, then?” she said, her wide brown gaze flashing up to meet his. “Maybe I met her? Maybe Rhonda from Tony’s? She bartends on Friday nights…”

“Nah, not her. Ta be honest, I don’t know when ya woulda met her. She’s real busy, works two jobs.” He edged closer to her, just barely pressing his body against hers. 

“That right?” she said, her voice warm and breathless. 

“But ya migh’a seen her ‘round. She’s jus’ a li'l thing, ‘bout this high.” He raised the flat of his hand right in front of his nose. “Always squirmin’ when I touch her…” he added, grinning. 

“Hasil!” she cried, her cheeks rounding with amused embarrassment. 

And then he did touch her, grasping her in his arms, his lips finding hers over and over again in the soft glow of the lantern’s light. She tasted sweet and bright, the scent of orange lingering as she breathed against him. He was falling, drowning, but he had no fear. All he wanted to do was surrender to it. 

But even in the chaos of his thoughts, he realized that before they went any further, he had to tell her something, he had to make it completely clear to her. 

“Sally-Ann,” he said, pulling his face from hers a little. “There ain’t no one else, there ain’t never gon’ be…”

“Hasil?” she murmured. 

“Hmmm?”

“Stop talkin’.” 

And then she kissed him again, the space between them quickly filling with fire and light, and nothing in the world could have enjoined him to disobey her. 


Teaser from something new I’m working on … which I’m fondly calling Space AU on Twitter right now (even though only Chapter 5 is the Space AU). (What?) (I guess you’ll have to wait and see.)

archiveofourown.org
Longer by Far- COMPLETE | Archive of Our Own

by rosepetals42

It’s been nine months since Derek let Stiles go. And Derek’s fine. He is.
Then Stiles once again bursts into his life and Derek doesn’t even pretend to believe that lie anymore.


Words: 104,431, Chapters: 12/12, Language: English
Series: Part 2 of A Turning Tide
Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Isaac Lahey,Melissa McCall, Alan Deaton, Lydia Martin, Danny Mahealani, Allison Argent, Chris Argent, Gerard Argent, Kate Argent, Talia Hale, Laura Hale, Cora Hale, Jennifer the Cook, Simon, Dee
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent/Scott McCall
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Slavery,Slavery, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Recovery, Angst, Epic Bromance, Rebellion, Sequel, Alive Hale Family

And, there it is. Complete. All finished. It only took me about five months!

I saved the sappiness for the end of the notes, but I will say here: Thank you so much for all your support. This story would not have been completed without you. For realsies. 

And, Happy Birthday to andavs, who has heard me bitch about this fic SO MUCH and never seemed to mind. I told ya I would have it done by your birthday! :)