his expressions in the last one

President Trump’s visit to Arizona is already fraught with controversy. The mayor of Phoenix asked the president to hold off staging a campaign rally in his city following the recent violence in Charlottesville, Va. Then, there are the hints Trump has dropped that he might issue a controversial pardon for the former local Sheriff Joe Arpaio, who was recently convicted of criminal contempt of court for disobeying a federal judge.

Last but not least, Trump may step further into next year’s Arizona Senate race by further tormenting one of his most outspoken Republican critics, the state’s junior U.S. Senator Jeff Flake, and potentially upsetting the delicate balance of power in the Senate.

At a recent meeting in Mesa, a conservative suburb east of Phoenix, more than 70 GOP grassroots leaders gathered to discuss party business. Even though Flake has a home in Mesa and used to represent the area in the U.S. House, many of the Republican activists present expressed disgust for Flake, who’s serving his first term in the Senate and is up for re-election in 2018.

Trump’s Visit To Arizona Is A Headache For Trump GOP Critic, Sen. Jeff Flake

Photo: Mark Wilson/Getty Images

2

Glass Sword first and last quotes


I flinch. The rag she gives me is clean, but it still smells like blood. I shouldn’t care. I already have blood all over my clothes. The red is mine, of course. The silver belongs to many others.”

“His expression is unreadable, but his meaning is clear. With one hand, he points at his feet. His fingers are whiter than I remember. I do as he says I kneel.”

red queen

anonymous asked:

Hey! Do u know any fics with jock!Stiles in it. Thanks and love you page :))

roses are #ffoooo by nashirah

“Roses are red,

Violets aren’t blue, they’re fucking purple,

This place is neat,

Let me buy you a Slurpee.”

Stiles finishes and looks pointedly at Derek. “They don’t make avocado Slurpees.”

“I’m filing for fake divorce,” Derek decides.

Bid on Me by Stereksale7

“Don’t celebrate yet. I’m only bidding on him if no one else does. Which will never happen because everyone wants him.” Derek said, smirk turning triumphant at Erica’s exasperated expression.

“Oh come on Der-” Erica started to whine, but quickly cut herself off when the auctioneer (Derek was pretty sure he was the frat’s president) called out “And one of our last auctions of the day, Stiles Stilinski!”

Derek’s heart dropped to his stomach in anticipation, waiting for the moment where some hot busty blonde or some Calvin Klein model guy bid on Stiles and won.

Except. It never happened.

“Shit Der, are you magic or something? Does everything you predict turn out to be wrong? Quick, say ‘Erica will not suddenly be handed a million dollars’ out loud for me”. Derek rolled his eyes and waved Erica off, watching as the auctioneer listed off qualities of Stiles, dropping the starting bid from $50 to $30 to $25, all the way down to $5.

Derek was drowning in secondhand embarrassment. And judging by Stiles’s badly concealed hurt expression and pink cheeks, he was suffering from a whole lot of first hand embarrassment.

It’s Always Been You, Dumbass by stilinskisparkles

“Alright, cool, we should go,” Stiles says breezily, dusting off his hands as he stands.

“We should?”

“Yeah!”

“But… Do you even care about photography?”

“Not as much as I should,” Stiles plants both his hands on the table, bracketing Derek in, “You’ll have to correct my miscreant ways.”

Of Glasses And Lacrosse Sticks by charlesdk

“Okay, how ‘bout this? One date, just one date, and if you still don’t believe I’m genuinely interested in you, then I’ll leave you alone for good. How does that sound?”

Derek hesitated for another moment, before he sighed and said, “Fine. One date.”

A Guide to Wooing Unsuspecting Jocks Accidentally by failwolfhale

Derek knew that he was good at approximately four things - six if you counted his strength and talent at lurking as being good at something. And he was okay with that. He was just glad to be good at ONE thing.

Chance Encounters by stilinski_wolf

Derek is studying on the grass on his college campus when he gets hit with a football out of nowhere, and the jock who comes to retrieve the ball and apologize to Derek takes his breath away.

It really sucks that he’ll most likely never see him again.

The Athlete & The Criminal by damnfancyscotch

“What’re you doing here, Stilinski? Did you only score half the winning points at the last lacrosse game instead of all of them?”

Stiles snorts and says, “I thought you were locked up, Hale.”

Derek huffs a laugh and drawls, “Not quite yet.”

or

A Breakfast Club AU

Won’t You Be My Solid Ground? by scarlettletterr

  Your typical High School AU. There’s a jock, there’s a nerd, there’s a bet, and there’s feelings.

(Nerd) Derek Hale is not a chicken, and when Erica bets that he’d never have the courage to date (Jock) Stiles Stilinski for more than two weeks, Derek accepts the challenge, because he’s stupidly attracted to Stiles, and also maybe crushing on him a tiny bit too much. And maybe Stiles has been crushing on Derek for years. And maybe somewhere along the line they fall in love. And then ruin it.

seems to me it’s chemistry by HalfFizzbin

Awkward Nerd Derek has been crushing on Handsome Jock Stiles since forever—so getting paired with him on a Chemistry project is definitely the best/worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

On Avatar’s Portrayal of War, Child-Soldiers, and Privilege

Sometimes I think about the fact that there is exactly one time that we hear someone express surprise at the fact that Aang–the Avatar– and his companions are children. And it’s in the second episode, from Zuko: 

From an out-of-universe perspective, this makes sense. And it wasn’t something that surprised me when I was a ten-year-old in 2005 when A:tLA first aired. One of the tenants, I think, of adventure children’s television is that there is a degree of wish fulfillment. Children want to be taken seriously as agents, and so it makes sense from that vantage point, that everyone takes the Gaang seriously as agents except the person portrayed as an antagonist.

But, I think this also makes sense, heart-breakingly and unlike other children’s adventure television, from an in-universe perspective. This is a world ravaged by bloody, bloody war for a hundred years. A world in which child soldiers are commonplace. We see countless examples of this throughout the series:

  • When we meet Sokka–fifteen-years-old and in-charge of security for his village–he is training small children to be soldiers. This is played off as something of a laugh, but if Aang hadn’t returned in the second episode, I think we’re supposed to think that Sokka very much would have tried to lead these little boys into battle.
  • Jet and the Freedom Fighters, who practice guerrilla warfare (fairly successfully) and regularly raid Fire Nation outposts, are children. Jet, who I think we are supposed to assume is one of the eldest of the group, is sixteen when he dies (according to the Avatar wiki).
  • The Kyoshi Warriors are one of the elite-most fighting force in Avatar World, eventually taken seriously by the Earth Kingdom military and given military jobs. And the general of the Kyoshi Warriors, Suki, and the eldest member of the group (again according to the Avatar wiki) is fifteen. She can’t have always been the eldest member. I’m willing to bet the older women are sent off to war, and Suki becomes the eldest member and the leader by default. (Much like Sokka–probably why they connect so well).
  • In Zuko, Alone, the soldiers in the village threaten to send Lee off to join the army at the front, and based on the mother’s reaction, and what we see of him when he’s tied up, this doesn’t seem like an empty threat, and it’s probably not the first time this has happened to children in the Earth Kingdom in villages like these.

I could go on. 

So of course, after living in a world of child soldiers like these, no one is going to bat an eyelash to learn that the Avatar–perhaps the ultimate non-Fire Nation soldier–is twelve-years old, and his companions aren’t much older. When Aang starts to bring this up himself to Yue, for instance, Yue doesn’t seem to understand. He’s the Avatar, he has to save them, she insists. Who cares if he’s a child?

But the Fire Nation Army isn’t filled with child soldiers. It doesn’t need them. Fire Nation children are in school. It is adults that make up the Fire Nation Army. 

And, (with the exception of Azula and her gang), when we do see a Fire Nation child attempting to take on the role of an adult member of the military, he isn’t taken seriously. (E.g. Zuko, and the way Zhao brushes him off.)

So of course it is only Zuko, who grew up in the absolute center of the Fire Nation, and, though he is banished, hasn’t really seen much of the reality of the war until he meets Aang, that looks at the Avatar and remarks in surprise that he is a child.

(If anyone is interested, I wrote a fic that deals with a lot of these themes. It can be found here.)

another point i want to make–

i’m not a big langst fan, because i feel like a lot of it relies on vilifying the other members of the cast for the sake of making lance look less appreciated/loved. i know people have fun with it in fanfics, and all the more power to them (i mean this sincerely; i know there’s a push-back against langst, but i have nothing against it as long as it doesn’t seep into canon analysis), because fanfic is a free-for-all-playground, but it’s not my thing. 

in terms of canon… 

while we as an audience know that lance is super insecure, not everyone else does. you can say that pidge is mean for labeling lance as a “goofball”, since he internalizes this and starts to genuinely believe it–or you can realize that she meant it all in good fun and had zero intent to seriously hurt his feelings. assigning malice to her casual, playful insult isn’t really fair to her. she cares about lance a lot. remember when she completely changed her tune about leaving in season 1 because lance was hurt? remember when she screamed for lance in season 2 after he got hit at beta traz? remember that she specifically thought back to lance trying to befriend her at the garrison when saying that she wanted to be closer to her teammates? 

the team likes lance as a person. they enjoy having him around. he’s their friend. it’s why they mess with him like this. do any of them look like they’re making fun of him because they dislike him? no. 

hell, keith sincerely tried to cheer lance up by joking about him being bad at math! and it kind of worked! 

now, does lance interpret a lot of this in the worst possible way because he’s insecure? absolutely. does this mean everyone else is to blame for how he feels? no. they simply don’t understand the extent of his issues. they’re fighting a war, as lance himself reminded keith; they don’t have the mental energy to devote to fussing over lance’s feelings all the time.

it’s complicated because you can’t blame lance for being insecure either; it’s all just a series of misunderstandings, really. if lance were to run off because he thinks he’s the unnecessary seventh wheel, i imagine they’d all be shocked and really upset

but blue?

blue has no such excuse. blue understands the situation perfectly. she knows exactly what lance is feeling. if anyone in the universe would know that lance is insecure, it would be blue. she can send ideas directly into his mind without any effort, and yet she chose to remain completely silent and shut him out instead. no explanation, no reassurance, no goodbye, nothing. she basically just slammed the door in his face and let him figure the rest out. 

she knows exactly what kind of assumptions lance would make after being shut out. she knows that he feels like a seventh wheel even when he does have her support. she knows that he hinges his identity on her (”mrs. blue lion”). she knows that he’s very possessive of her (’we’re very happy together! very happy!”). she knows that he calls himself lancey-lance. hell, she can probably name every single member of lance’s family. 

it’s no coincidence that blue finally responded to allura when she expressed self-doubt. that’s something that blue recognizes quite well since lance doubts himself so much.

it’s one thing for someone to be clueless about how lance feels and say something that accidentally upsets him–keith in particular, since he’s a “loner”–and it’s another entirely to be 100% aware and let him suffer anyway. she’s supposed to be his lion, his old girl, his best girl, but she left him out in the cold in such a pointlessly cruel (and dangerous, honestly, considering how much it delayed lance entering the battle) way. 

this right here is canon langst, from the last source i would have thought of. 

we’d better get a damn good explanation for her behavior in season 4.

anonymous asked:

so, um. if you have any particular feelings about labyrinth--specifically Sarah--uh, go wild.

WILD PEACHES  [AO3]

.

The morning after Sarah Williams defeats the Goblin King, she gets up and makes toast. She has to brush some glitter off the toaster—it withers and vanishes at the brush of her fingertips, and she stares at her hand for a long time. 

It mostly just looks like her hand. Even when she turns it over, and sees where she scraped her knuckles against the oubliette, where the shattered mirror cut the back of her wrist. It looks like she fell, or was playing in the street. That’s all.

The toast comes out burned, and Sarah stares at that too. Eventually, she slumps down against the cabinets and cries, wracking sobs that send her dad and Karen rushing into kitchen. They check her forehead for a fever, put their hands on her, and keep asking, “Are you okay? Sarah, please, tell us what’s wrong…”

Eventually, her dad drags her into his lap and cradles her against his chest, like he did when she was little. Her legs are too long to really fit anymore, but Sarah hugs him around the neck anyway. “It’ll be okay,” he says, keeps saying. “You’ll be okay.” And Sarah—doesn’t laugh, because she can’t, and doesn’t have the words to express what—how—

(None of her stories ever talked about this. What did Sir George do, the morning after he slayed the last dragon in England? Did Tam Lin eat breakfast, or did he sit there, shivering, wondering if his hands were different, having been claws and wings and scales?)

Afterwards, she leaves the burnt toast outside on the back porch. Not an offering. Maybe a reminder.

.

It’s Didymus she sees the most often, mostly because he’s the one who invites himself rather than waiting for an invitation. He comes for tea, but even if there’s no tea—which there isn’t, usually—he comes to tell Sarah stories. She learns to love poetry because there’s no escaping it with him. (She won’t read Idylls of the King until Brit Lit in college, but she ends up scrawling a lot in the margins; Didymus’ telling of events had been much more interesting.)

Once, she falls asleep like that, her hands tucked behind her head with Didymus curled up and sleepily reciting from the crook of her elbow. “So tender was her voice, so fair her face—though I don’t think he was looking at her face, my lady, pardon me for saying so—”

Sarah buries her nose in his fur. Didymus always smells of rosewater, and a crispness she thinks is just…the Labyrinth. She falls asleep trying to place it.

She wakes up with a wild fox in her bed, animal-black eyes frightened and flat, teeth bared. The fox is whining, and she’s tempted to throw herself across the room, to get away from this wild thing and its teeth. It takes a monumental will to keep herself still and her breathing slow, even; like she’s still asleep and unafraid. 

It takes her longer to swallow, and start humming one of the songs he taught her—a knight’s round, he’d said. She’s shaky at first, but the fox’s ears flick forward. It cocks its head, and slowly, the teeth disappear behind its lips. 

She almost laughs when noses at her throat curiously, butting its head against her jaw like a cat might.

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8

“To me Van Gogh is the finest painter of them all. Certainly the most popular, great painter of all time. The most beloved, his command of colour most magnificent. He transformed the pain of his tormented life into ecstatic beauty. Pain is easy to portray, but to use your passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and joy and magnificence of our world, no one had ever done it before. Perhaps no one ever will again. To my mind, that strange, wild man who roamed the fields of Provence was not only the world’s greatest artist, but also one of the greatest men who ever lived.”

Doctor Who , Season 5 Episode 10 ,Vincent

Vincent Willem van Gogh ( 30 March 1853 – 29 July 1890) was a Dutch Post-Impressionist painter who is among the most famous and influential figures in the history of Western art. In just over a decade he created about 2,100 artworks, including around 860 oil paintings, most of them in the last two years of his life in France, where he died. They include landscapes, still lifes, portraits and self-portraits, and are characterised by bold colours and dramatic, impulsive and expressive brushwork that contributed to the foundations of modern art. His suicide at 37 followed years of mental illness and poverty.

Van Gogh suffered from psychotic episodes and delusions and though he worried about his mental stability, he often neglected his physical health. His friendship with Gauguin ended after a confrontation with a razor, when in a rage, he severed part of his own left ear. He spent time in psychiatric hospitals, including a period at Saint-Rémy. After he discharged himself he came under the care of the homeopathic doctor Paul Gachet. His depression continued and on 27 July 1890, Van Gogh shot himself in the chest with a revolver. He died from his injuries two days later.

BTS Reaction - Clenching around them during sex

NSFW. Read at your own risk!

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Inexorable (2)

Plot: How does is feel to be arranged to be married to a cocky, arrogant Mafia leader? Once you look at his face, you think you’re lucky, but then he opens his mouth.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, (eventual) smut, Mafia au!

Notes: Welp, since so many of you asked for it, here is a part two!! There are two other stories which need a continuation as well, so I might keep requests closed for a while.. Sorry about that. I hope you don’t mind. Feel free to ask me questions, though! Ya’ll are so nice to me! 2,053 Words

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (FINAL)

The ride to the vacation home wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Your husband actually gave you the space you needed. There were brief glares exchanged between the two of you, a whole lot of drinking, and forced slumber – it was a 3 hour ride, after all. 

When the both of you had finally reached, the luggage was taken out by the bodyguards who had come along, and brought to your huge master bedroom. It was twice the size of your father’s office – if not, bigger – the bed was king-sized, and adorned with silk sheets. The walk-in wardrobe was already stacked with clothes for both sexes, making you wonder why you had even brought luggage in the first place.

“Too small, honestly,” Jungkook commented, plopping down on the couch by the fireplace. “My room is bigger than this.”

There he was, ruining the moment again. It was a good thing you were too exhausted to fight with him; but that didn’t mask over the fact that you still wanted to knock him out.

“Brat..” 

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anonymous asked:

"Go on, I dare you" for the prompt thingy, WinterIron, (no angst pls)

“Go on,” Tony said, schooling his face into a straight expression. “I dare you.”

Like it was something they had practiced, Bucky and Clint looked at the door, looked at each other, looked at the door, looked at Tony, and then shook their heads.

“No way,” Clint said. “The last time I woke Natasha up, she stabbed me.”

Bucky nodded. “Doll, I love you, but that is one mountain I am not willing to climb.”

“Wimps,” Tony said.

“Did you not hear the part about stabbing?” Clint yanked up his shirt and pointed to the small scar on his ribs. “With a knife!”

Tony gave him a bored look. “That is typically how you stab someone, yes.” He took a step towards the door. Bucky immediately grabbed his arm.

“Tony, no. Please don’t do this,” he begged.

“Bucky bear, light of my life, I am literally just going to ask Natasha if she accidentally took the remote to bed with her last night,” Tony said. He did his damndest not to laugh. Bucky’s panicked expression was adorable.

“But -”

“It’ll be fine.” Tony patted Bucky’s cheek. “I promise.”

Like the dramatic dumbass he was, Bucky jerked him into a hug and a long, deep kiss, like it was the last time they were going to see each other. “I love you. Godspeed.”

“Seriously. Wimps,” Tony said, squirming out of the hold.

“WITH A KNIFE!” Clint whisper-screamed; he couldn’t yell too loud for fear of waking Natasha up.

Tony rolled his eyes and opened the door. He was familiar enough with Natasha’s bedroom that he didn’t bang into anything as he made his way over to the bed. All he could see was a mountain of blankets. He assumed Natasha was somewhere inside.

“Tasha?” he asked softly. “Do you have the remote?”

There was a moment of silence. Then the mountain moved. A small hand appeared holding the remote. Tony smiled and took it.

“Thanks. Cupcakes later?”

The hand made a thumbs up.

“Cool. Sleep well.” He tiptoed out of the room and closed the door, then brandished the remote like a trophy.

Clint and Bucky looked at him with absolute awe.

Debt

Imirrim-Chæma-Thiridion had answered a distress call. It had probably been stupid on xir part, but what was done was done.

A small ship, even smaller than xir, had crashed on a barren but breathable-to-most-species moon in the system of Hyaldnar. Xe had been making a delivery for xir mentor when xir communication system picked it up, and since xe was barely past adolescence, the journey of not even five rotations was making xem bored and seeing a crash site would be exciting. After all, it was probably an automated distress call, nothing could survive a crash to a rocky moon.

But there xe was, standing in front of a crumpled and burned wreck and the very much alive creature that had crawled out of it after perceiving xir pod landing. Imirrim cursed xir rotten luck, now xe would have to help the poor thing. Xe had been planning on just sight-seeing the wreck a bit, maybe later contact whatever species it had belonged to to tell it had crashed, if only to look good in front of xir mentor.

After a while of the creature gawking and baring it’s teeth at Imirrim, xe recognized the species as human, the fifth longest living space-faring species. Still, xe belonged to the second longest living, and Thalmors like xemself could outlive five humans each born at the moment of the previous one’s death. What had especially stuck from xir exobiology and alien anthropology lessons was humans’ way of expressing their emotions in strange and backwards ways, and their sheer capability to holding grudges. Great.

Imirrim approached the human slowly. It was approaching xem right back, still showing it’s teeth like it was attacking, but but humans expressed their emotions backwards, so that was good, right? Besides, the human was wounded and limping, and xe could outrun it if things went bad.

“Finally someone answered my call,” the human -a male, xe guessed- said as Imirrim was close enough. “I’ve been here for a week and I’m running out of water.”

A week? How was he alive?

“Oh, where are my manners,” the human said and extended the less damaged of its upper limbs towards Imirrim. “I’m Thomas Warren, from the human colony on Clyzma Al Carrim, farmer by profession.”

Imirrim carefully extended a cheliped to mimic the greeting, and did xir best not to flinch when the human grabbed it and shook it. “I am Imirrim-Chæma-Thiridion from planet Skismin, apprentice to the Grand Navigator.”

“It is very nice to meet you,” Thomas said and shook xir cheliped some more before finally letting go. “You mind taking me off this rock?”

Imirrim shifted xir weight from a foot to another to a third. “Sure.”

“Great!” Thomas said and pulled his lips even further back, revealing even more teeth, more than could possibly fit comfortably into a mouth that small. “I’ll be right back.” He limped back into the small shipwreck.

Imirrim was regretting this. It wasn’t customary to help strangers, especially from other species, since there was no telling what they could do. Humans had a reputation of being unpredictable, especially when wounded. And this ‘Thomas’ was covered in wounds, some looking much too severe for anyone to possibly survive.

Thomas emerged from his wreckage, carrying something that was clearly important if he was willing to retrieve it from a wreck while severely wounded. “So, Imirrim, was it? Where are you headed?”

Imirrim led the human to xir pod and helped him climb over the threshold. “Back to Skismin. You can get better help there.” If he stayed alive that long.

“Lovely, you’re a real life saver,” Thomas chuckled. “I’ll owe you one.”

To Imirrim’s surprise -and relief- Thomas did not die during the two rotations’ travel back to Skismin. He talked xir auditory membrane off and after a while filled the pod with the faint stench of alien blood, but all things considered he wasn’t the worst passenger. Once xe had docked the pod back on Skismin and had helped Thomas and his bag of belongings (which turned out to be an assortment of small possibly decorative items, data storage devices, clothes, and even a few ordinary rocks one could get anywhere but that were apparently ‘cool’) to the nearest emergency clinic, Thomas turned to xem one last time.

“If you ever find yourself in a bad spot, call me,” he said with a serious expression xe had come to recognize during their time at the small pod. “I owe you my life, just call and I’ll pay you back.”

Imirrim stared after him for a long while before turning away and heading to tell the Grand Navigator that hir delivery was received and thanked for, and to tell xir mentor about human Thomas Warren.

After xe had told hir what had passed, Imirrim asked one last question. “Master, what does it mean when a human says they 'owe their life’ to someone?”

The Grand Navigator’s age-reddened crest rose curiously. “Like you probably know, humans are known for holding grudges and for being almost insensibly loyal. While they keep in mind all wrong that has been done to them, they do not forget a good deed done to them either. 'Owing one’s life’ means you have done something to them that they regard highly of, usually the saving of a life, and that they will do anything in their power to, as they say, 'return the favor’. Did this Thomas say this to you?”

Imirrim nodded. “Right before he went with the medical staff, he said he owes me his life, and all I need to do in a time of distress is to call him and he will come.”

The Grand Navigator raised hir upper chelipeds in a sign of pride. “You have done well, my apprentice. To earn a human’s favor is a feat of great bravery and compassion. One day, you shall become a fine and daring Navigator, like the explorers before us.”

Imirrim ruffled his crest at the praise. Maybe answering the distress call wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Time went by, and Imirrim progressed from an appearance to a novice and on, up the ranks, and eventually landed a spot as the head Navigator on the long trade ship Pochella, traveling at high speeds through barely charted nebulas and dangerous asteroid fields. Xe plotted courses through the densest of rock fogs and past dangerous gravitational pulls, and not once did his calculations for the course fail.

Xe had lived many more cycles, many more than a human could ever live. Imirrim had counted- xe had kept a distant eye on Thomas Warren in case xe would ever have a need for the favor he had claimed to owe xem, but the need never came. He had died fifty-seven cycles after xe had rescued him, or seventy-two years, as humans counted time, and even more time had passed after that.

Still, even after all this time xe looked back at him for courage when daily life was hard and xir spirit was down. Xe had met and worked with humans many times now and they all shared the same spirit Thomas Warren had had, but none of them had left quite the same impression on xem as Thomas, who had smiled and joked through nine rotations on broken bones and told fondly of his family and farm back on Clyzma Al Carrim.

Imirrim had plotted a course through a particularly dense asteroid cloud, a course that would save the ship a lot of time and fuel. The ship was nearly out of the cloud when the proximity alarm went off and something clamped into the ship’s hull. The computer showed xir an approximate hologram of the something. It was a smaller and armed ship attaching itself to their ship.

The Cieruna members of the crew -small, short-lived, and feathery things with nimble hands and a sensitivity to electromagnetic fields- were screaming in terror. Pirates, they yelled, we can’t shake them off, we’re all going to die. Shush, xe said, we will not die. I’ll call for help, be quiet.

Imirrim galloped to the unoccupied communication post and sent a distress message on all frequencies. “This is Imirrim-Chæma-Thiridion, head navigator of the trade ship Pochella. We are inside the Halfway asteroid cloud. And we are under attack by pirates. Please help us.” Once the message was sent xe stepped away from the console and joined the crew in listening to the magnetic creaking of their hull in the morbid silence that had followed xir call.

The ship could not move, following the already plotted course with the extra weight and bulk of the pirate ship attached to them would be suicide, and finding a new safe route out without knowing the exact dimensions of the other ship was impossible, not to mention useless against the threat. All xe could do was hope for a miracle.

And a miracle xe got. Another proximity alarm sounded, and the computer showed an image of a charging mining pod, ten times smaller than the pirate ship and at least a hundred times smaller than Pochella. Outmatched, outgunned, it rammed the pirate ship and despite being hit by their lasers and missiles, it kept on pounding it with its grappling arms and mining lasers and asteroid bombs, everything it had. And finally, when the pod was leaking air and plasma and fuel into space, the pirate ship released its hold and retreated, engines sputtering and its hull dented and battered, and flew away from Pochella and the mad mining pod to safety of the asteroids.

“What was that? What happened? The Cieruna chirred and cheeped. “It is gone! We are saved!”

Imirrim was still looking at the hologram screen. The mining pod was all but destroyed in the short but fierce fight. Someone exited it, wearing a spacesuit and carrying something, and the pod engaged it’s barely functional engines and sped away leaving a trail of debris and smoke in its wake, until it finally exploded from the damage it had sustained a safe distance away.

Imirrim stared at the hologram for a moment, and shifted xir weight from a foot to another to a third. Xe input a code to the control panel and opened a small airlock near the creature that had saved them all. Xe set off from the bridge where xe was posted and galloped through corridors and climbed down stairs, until xe arrived in front of the airlock that had already closed and the creature that had successfully boarded the ship.

“Are you Imirrim-Chæma-Thiridion?” The creature asked. Xe nodded, all the while looking the spacesuited being up and down. Four limbs, two for walking and two for holding. No tail, short neck but a neck nonetheless. No added room for fins or spikes or crests. It was a human.

The human handed their possession to xem -a lumpy bag that both felt and looked like it had rocks in it- and pulled off their helmet.

The human was ruffled and grizzled and had spark burns on his face and his eyes were serious, but he was baring his teeth in a joyous smile. He extended a hand to greet xem and Imirrim took hold of it and shook it.

“I am Stepa Warren,” the human introduced himself. “You rescued my grandfather from a shipwreck when he was young. He spoke fondly of you til his dying day. It is an honor to meet you.”

breaking the cycle: gotg2 and the theme of toxic masculinity

It’s taken me, oh, about a month to organize my thoughts on this and they’re still a mess, but I have all these snippets in my head about how GOTG2 deconstructs toxic masculinity, and hey! you’re gonna get them now

Toxic masculinity is basically the concept that socializing men and boys to be a certain ‘masculine’ way, and criticizing them or ridiculing them when they fail to live up to these (often impossible or even abusive) standards, is ultimately harmful to everyone, men and women alike. Ever wonder why you flinch at dudes yelling “man up!” to their crying young sons instead of comforting them? Yeah, that’s why.

Anyway, regarding GOTG: a lot of this stuff revolves around Yondu and the Yondu-Peter relationship, but also (I totally love this) a large portion of it also revolves around a white, straight, able-bodied man who is quite literally called ‘Ego’. spoilers follow, naturally-

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How To Win A Boy: Fumbling Punk Edition

How To Win A Boy: Fumbling Punk Edition | Dan Howell, local punk, and his friends need a new cafe to hang out in, now that Dan has ruined starbucks for them (don’t ask). So they try out the new family business that just opened up a few days ago… and somehow Dan falls in love with the Pastel Goth kid behind the counter who just so happens to be his waiter. Why Phil seems to think disgusting smoothies are going to win Dan over, no one knows, but… well, they do. | Phan | Teen and Up | PastelxPunk | 8,359 Words

Thanks to @botanistlester for the title, and the fic inspiration, not to mention listening to me talk about this fic for the last 3 hours of writing. I apologize for any typos, but screw proofreading, I really want to post already.

Art: (Dan & Phil) (Mini Comic) (Full Comic)

(ao3 Link)

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sourwolfstories top 10

friends to lovers sterek fics

1. Permanent Fixture by linksofmemories

Derek is Scott’s older brother. Stiles is Scott’s best friend. Derek is falling in love with Stiles. This is a bit of a problem.

2. Baking My Way Into Your Heart by theSilence

Derek is an uptight college student, all work and no play. His carefully scheduled life is thrown kilter when his regular barista is replaced with someone new.

3. Strut on a Line, it’s Discord and Rhyme by xiaq

“Carry me,” Stiles says.

“No.”

“But I’m injured.”

“You have a rash,” Derek says. “On your arm. Your feet work just fine.”

“Please?”

“No. You weigh almost as much as I do. And you ate a pound of chicken at lunch.”

“Well, yeah, but I pooped like an hour ago, so.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Don’t play, you love me.”

I do, Derek thinks, relatively horrified. I really do.

4. Thrill (like white-hot wire) by raisesomehale

Stiles made the decision that Derek was his new best friend (and that he’ll one day marry him) the day he shared his dinosaur chicken nuggets with him.

5. Little Kid Crush by KuriKuri

“What’s your name?” Derek asks, wiping the last of the tears off the kid’s face with his sleeve.

“’tiles,” the kid mumbles, and Derek frowns, wondering if he heard correctly.

“Tiles?” Derek repeats.

“Stiles,” the kid repeats, pouting at Derek slightly, defiant even though his eyes are still puffy and red and his cheeks tear-stained.

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Title: and at last i see the light.

Pairing: Keith/Lance

Words: 30k+

Summary:You said you’ve been to the castle?” Keith asked.

Lance cleared his throat. “Um. Yeah. Why?

He watched as Keith’s expression changed from one of intimidation to open curiosity. “Do you know anything about the floating lights?

Floating lights?” Lance mused, and then shook his head. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, babe.

(Or, the tangled AU where Keith has been trapped in a tower for eighteen years of his life, and Lance is the unsuspecting thief who sets him free.)

(art creds and my inspiration behind writing this story goes 100% to @thekoreanpineapple , her klance tangled au tag is truly amazing!)

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A Cup a Day

Fandom: Marvel
Ship: Peter Parker x Reader
Requested: No
Genre: Fluffy Coffee Shop AU
Warnings: None
A/N: Thank you all for 2k followers!!!

Originally posted by parkrpeters

Every morning when you made your way to the coffee shop down the street from your house, you told yourself it was just because you loved their coffee. You told yourself that no other coffee would do, and that you were already so used to drinking that specific coffee on your walk to work that you just couldn’t change it.

And on weekends, when you never had work, you still insisted on getting your coffee from the same coffee shop. You told yourself that you only went for the weekend specials.

But as you walked into the coffee shop on this Tuesday morning, smiling as you waited in line, you didn’t give a thought about ordering your drink. “Next,” the familiar voice of the barista said, and you stepped up to the counter.

He looked up, and the face you had grown to look forward to seeing every morning lit up with a grin. “Hello,” he said with a soft voice, and you knew he recognized you. You felt a warm feeling in your chest at the realization. 

“You know my order by now, don’t you?” You replied, your previously sleepy state disappearing when you looked into his shining brown eyes. He let out a small chuckle, looking down at the register to put your order in.

He looked back up at you, telling you your amount, but you already had the money ready. He held his hand out and you set the bills down in his hand, your fingers grazing his. You sucked in a quick breath at the feeling, and you saw him bite his lip.

“Thanks,” he whispered, pressed some buttons on the register, and handed you your receipt. He looked behind you to see no one else in line, so he made your coffee himself. You rubbed your sweaty hands against your pants, your nerves getting the best of you.

You needed to calm down. You didn’t even know him.

But then again, you had seen him every day for the past three months since you had started coming to this coffee shop. He was at the register every day, taking your order and giving you a smile that made your heart beat faster in your chest. You remember yourself fawning over him and his shy demeanor, and watching as he would sometimes make your coffees with fumbling hands.

You remembered the way he nervously looked at you with red cheeks before asking you for your name.

“Here you go,” he had said to you as he handed you your coffee, and you moved to take it with shaking hands. It’d been a month of you coming here every morning, and you still hadn’t gotten used to the attractive boy who made your coffee. You weren’t sure you would ever get used to it, to him.

“Thank you,” you replied softly, taking the coffee from his hands. You stayed mindful, paying close attention to your hand to ensure it wouldn’t touch his accidentally. You began to turn to walk away after giving him one last smile when you heard his voice.

“Wait,” he said, and you thought it was the loudest either of you had been since meeting. You turned back to fully face him, and you bit your lip as you waited for him to continue. The two of you hadn’t said many words to each other besides ‘Good morning’ or ‘Have a nice day’, so to hear him open his mouth again made you nervous. 

“Uh,” he stumbled when he saw you looking at him with wide eyes, and you held back a chuckle at his stricken expression. “Um, what’s your name?”

You gripped the coffee cup tighter in your hands, and you weren’t sure why, but the question made you nervous. Maybe it was just because of the fact that he was asking for you name, which implied he wanted to know who you were. “I’m (Y/N),” you replied, smiling at him. You saw him breathe in quickly, and his eyebrows flicked slightly up his forehead. “What’s yours?”

“Peter,” he said immediately, and he looked down for a second, embarrassed at how quickly he responded.

“Peter,” you repeated, feeling the name in your mouth. And then you smiled wider, looking him in the eye. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Peter.”

He broke out into a grin and laughed lightly, almost sounding relieved at how well the conversation was going. “It’s nice to officially meet you as well, (Y/N).”

Hearing him speak your name for the first time gave you a warm feeling in your chest, and you didn’t mind it all. You clutched your coffee tighter, and you were worried the cup would soon break open.

You nodded once, taking a step backwards. You would be late to work if you didn’t leave soon. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” You said, an inquisitive tone to your voice.

“Yeah,” he said breathily, still smiling at you.

“Here’s your coffee,” Peter said now, handing you your coffee. You were broken out of your memory, taking the coffee from his hand. This felt like an all too familiar scene.

“Thanks, Peter,” you said, focusing on the current boy in front of you instead of the past one. “Have a nice day,” you continued, taking a step backwards, but Peter caught your arm. You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, your heart beginning to beat harder in your chest.

“Uh, just,” he stuttered, staring at you intensely. You could see the nervousness on his face, and you wondered what he wanted to do that he was holding himself back from.

“Peter?” You asked, tilting your head slightly.

And then he took a deep breath, leaning over the counter quickly and pressing his lips to your cheek. You froze at his close proximity, almost not breathing. He leaned back to his respectful spot and let go of your arm, and you could see his cheeks getting redder and redder by the second.

“Just make sure to check your coffee sleeve,” were the only words he said before he gave you a small smirk and walked back to the register where a new customer had been waiting.

You laughed in disbelief as you took one last look at him, not believing he had just kissed you on the cheek. You turned around and walked out the door, restraining yourself from looking at the coffee sleeve until you were out of the coffee shop’s view.

When you finally looked down at it, you grinned. You knew you were already falling for this boy.

‘I hope you’ll let me get to know you. Here’s my number. xx.’

************************
THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR 2K FOLLOWERS!! I LOVE YOU GUYS AND THIS MEANS SO MUCH TO ME SO HERE’S A LITTLE SOMETHING AS A THANK YOU!! I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT. REQUESTS ARE OPEN :)

~e

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