how dare you take this day

You aren’t who you used to be
like the more there is of you
the less you are yourself
and all the difference lays in how
you dare to live
unwilling to let your bones rest
or your eyes close
or your heart stop

Each night you go to bed
exhaustion a faint trail
down your spine
as if weariness takes a day trip
from the moment you 
get up and ignore the blinds
the sun has stopped
calling your attention
you just wallow until 
the crash comes early
and you find yourself
mercifully asleep

One day you will wake up
and the hair on your head will stop itching
and your limbs will work again
and the sun will be your cue
to look out the window
and see your life coming back for you
one day this will pass
and you will be here to see it.
—  This will mean different things to different people but there is recovery all the same

studyforyourselfblr  asked:

*curtsies* I'm starting to think I suck at looking through hashtags but after half an hour of searching through "time management", "writing tips" and "writing advice" and not finding an answer I will dare ask: how much time does it usually take you to write a first draft? I know it's basically the quickest part of the whole process but I couldn't find it and I was curious

*curtsies* It depends completely on the project. My debut novel took six months to outline but only 90 days to write a first draft. The first draft of the MS I just turned in took a whole seven months to write and another six months of research and outlining before I even started writing, and I continued to do research all through the writing of the first draft (and guess what? I’m still doing it). The MS I wrote in between those two probably took three or four months but I was also a full-time grad student while working on it. There are a lot of factors that affect how fast a first draft happens, so there’s no “usually” about it.

2

NaLu Week Bonus Day 1: Video Games

In which Natsu gets way too into his online games against Gray. While he’s yelling at the TV and angry that Gray is beating him, Lucy is woken up from her sleep. So she takes it upon herself to ‘distract’ Natsu from his loss.

Anddd, you can decide where the rest goes;)

The next day:

Gray: What happened man? Didja give up ‘cause you were losing?

Natsu: Yeah right! I would have kicked your ass if Lucy hadn’t distracted me!

Gray: Distract you? How?

Natsu: Well, first she-

Lucy: *blushes intensely* NATSU! Don’t you dare!

Gray: *glances between the two* …gross.

Juvia: Juvia can distract Gray-Sama too if he’d like!<3

P.s., this prompt was originally going to be a scene from my fic, Down the Rabbit Hole, but it kind of took on a life of its own! Ah well, still fun :)

Bonus:

Keep reading

you’re not supposed to fall in love with your roommate.

it’s not just an Elsewhere University rule, one of the many you pick up during your first few months there; it’s an every-university rule.

but she is so pretty, and you are so weak when it comes to pretty girls.

at first, it is the way the sunlight shimmers on her feather-dark hair. the way her eyes sparkle, just a little bit too much like mica. the way she moves, like a shadow sliding over bricks.

but then it is the rattle when she laughs, like her chest is hollow. it is her endless fascination for anything human. it is the way she twists her neck to smile at you when you walk into the room. it is her dedication to finishing every homework assignment, even though someone like her doesn’t have to do any homework assignments, or go to class at all.

you’re not supposed to fall in love with someone who never sleeps.

but you’ve never been good at keeping to the rules– your religion is a time-worn mixture of judaism, agnosticism, and the bits and bobs of whatever your favorite grandmother is (she never quite tells you), and you’re still not sure what your gender is (or your sexuality). old rules, unflexible, unaccepting, feel like brittle prison bars.

besides, at elsewhere u, the normal rules seem a little more fluid. changeable. as long as you keep to the traditions of the school, everything else can slide by, just a bit.

you help her keep up with the homework and decipher a few of the more colloquial phrases that your american history professor likes to use. she helps you stay unnoticed on the campus. when you walk next to her, the shadows accept you as one of them.

you ask permission before you hold her hand. you ask permission to grab her dinner when you’re getting yours. you ask permission to look at her when she’s not looking at you. she tells you yes, again and again, and again. the fae cannot lie.

your best friend, aeryn, has always been fascinated by the fae. she tells you not to trust your pretty roommate. she tells you that their rules are too complicated to understand. but your roommate, but she is like you; she was not made for rules. you begin to think that perhaps she and aeryn have a lot in common; aeryn came to elsewhere u for the fae. your roommate came for the humans.

so she tells you yes, when you ask her things; and then she starts to make requests of her own. she asks if she can hear about your childhood. she asks how much you know about other cultures. she asks if you really like her, no, like-like her, she thinks she heard the term from one of the human kids in her biology class.

you blush. you tell her yes, again and again and again.

you’re not supposed to date one of the fae. that IS an elsewhere university rule, but one that’s so obvious that nobody would ever even think to tell you.

you don’t think much of the rules, the two of you; sometimes you walk through Elsewhere with her to get to class faster, and sometimes she uses your laptop (with you as a conduit) to explore the internet. you get rid of the iron and salt, you have; except a few nails near the door (even if your roommate is fae, that doesn’t stop anyone else from trying to take your stuff).

she steals your sweatshirts. you take some of the pebbles on her bedside table to play with when you can’t pay attention during class. she teases you with extremely stretched truths, which is the best she can do about the lying rule. you buy her increasingly outrageous types of soda on amazon.

she lets her glamour drop, junior year. it is an accident. you come into the room you share, and find her studying, seven feet tall, with antlers and spindly fingers. her shimmery eyes look scared when you approach. you smile, and tell her the truth– you still like her without the glamour. how could you not, when she tells the worst puns on campus and keeps you up until 3am watching vine compilations?

you didn’t know that your first kiss would involve three rows of teeth.

you are not supposed to take the fae with you when you graduate.

but would any of the staff dare to complain if one of the students leaving campus on graduation day happens to have a suitcase full of seaglass and feathers for eyebrows?

and if the neighbors think you and your wife are a little odd, they’d probably be justified. but it’s quite okay with you, you think as you fall asleep with a phantom tail wrapped tightly around your leg. after all, nobody else in town has as much fun just looking at memes. nobody else’s s.o. can make the fire in the fireplace turn blue just by winking at it.

you’re not supposed to fall in love with your roommate. but you do it anyway, and so does she.

“you are not your disorder”

yes i am? i literally am? my entire personality is a disorder. how i react to any situation i am in is influenced by my disorders. all my interpersonal relationships are heavily affected by my disorders. what i choose to eat for breakfast and what i choose to wear for the day is a product of my disorders. i am literally my disorders. don’t you dare take that away from me.

  • me: Anyway, I want to live on Themyscira. I want to mysteriously appear there and have General Antiope take me under her wing. I want her to train me all day and all night. I want Queen Hippolyta to welcome me with open arms and see to it that I receive the best education. I want the Amazonian warrior women to be my best friends and teach me everything they know and braid each other's hair. I want to ride all the pretty horses.
  • brain: It's fake.
  • me: How dare you? We're done. I don't need negativity in my life.
Dear Strange Man on the Train,

At 11 o’clock at night, you moved across the train car to sit far too close to two girls about half your age so you could interrupt our conversation to tell us how pretty we are. We said thank you, have a good night, and went back to our conversation.

You interrupted us a second time to say that you didn’t want to bother us, but we needed to hear it, how pretty we are. We said cool, thanks, have a good night, and went back to our conversation.

You interrupted us a third time to say you wouldn’t say anything else, you didn’t want to bother us, you just had to let us know. We said have a good night, and went back to our conversation.

This seemed to perplex you. You came all that way across a train car to bestow upon us this life altering knowledge - the fact we were pretty - and all you got was a polite thank you? You grumbled about gratitude, about how you better not end up on facebook, were we putting you on facebook? Why was my friend looking at her phone? Was she putting you on facebook? All you’d done was tell us we were pretty.

At this point, my friend says, “Sir, we’re trying to have a conversation. Please don’t be disrespectful.”

This was when you got angry. Disrespectful? YOU? For taking the time out of your day to tell us we were pretty? Did we know we were pretty?

“Yes, we knew,” says my friend.

Well, that was the last straw. How dare we know we were pretty! Sure, you were allowed to tell us we were pretty, but we weren’t allowed to think it independently, without your permission! And if we had somehow already known - perhaps some other strange man had informed us earlier in the day - we certainly weren’t allowed to SAY it! Where did we get off, having confidence in ourselves? You wanted us to know we were pretty, sure, but only as a reward for good behavior. We were pretty when you gifted it upon us with your words, and not a moment before! You raged for a minute about how horrible we were for saying we thought we were pretty, how awful we turned out to be.

I took a page out of your book and interrupted you. “Sir, you said you wouldn’t say anything else, and then you kept talking,” I said. “You complimented us, we said thank you, and we don’t owe you anything else. It’s late, you’re a stranger, and I don’t want to talk to you. We’ve tried to disengage multiple times but you keep bothering us.”

At this point, our train pulled into the next stop. My friend suggested we leave, so we got up and went to the door.

Seeing your last chance, you lashed out with the killing blow. “I was wrong!” you shouted at us as we left, “You’re ugly! You’re both REALLY UGLY!”

Fortunately, since our worth as human beings is in no way dependent upon how physically attractive you find us, my friend and I were unharmed and continued on with our night. She walked home; I switched to the next train car and sat down.

So, strange man, I know you’re confused. I don’t know if you’ll think about anything I said to you, but I hope you do learn this: when you give someone something - a gift, a compliment, whatever - with stringent stipulations about how they respond to it, you are not giving anything. You are setting a trap. It is not as nice as you think it is.

But you’ll be happy to know that when I sat down in the next car, a strange man several seats over called, “Hey, pretty girl. Nice guitar. How was your concert?”

“Thanks. Good,” I said, then looked away and put on my headphones, the universal sign for ‘I’d like to be left alone.’

“Wow. Fine. Whatever. Fucking bitch,” he said.

dare - peter parker

Dare - ((Tom Holland)) Peter Parker x Reader | 3rd Person 

Prompt: What happens when (Y/N) can’t refuse a dare, and she takes it too far?

a/n: THIS IS MY LONGEST IMAGINE YET AND I’M SO HAPPY WITH IT!! also thank you for all the love on my last 3 imagines! and yes, the ladder part is based on the scenes in nerve!


(Y/N) didn’t know how her reputation came about. It started as a single dare, to which she completed. The one dare turned into five, five turned into 15, and eventually turned into 154 completed dares. Every dare she finished, one of her friends took a picture. (Y/N)’s wall was full of pictures, each with a date and dare name.

Now she was in the same situation. (Y/N) was sitting in a room with her friends, playing the infamous truth or dare. It came to her turn and obviously she chose dare. It didn’t come as a surprise, yet everyone cheered. (Y/N)’s friend smirked and ushered her out of the room. Once (Y/N) was gone, her friends begun to discuss the dare.

Every time (Y/N) was assigned a dare, it was her friends’ mission to make sure she couldn’t complete it. They called (Y/N) back in the room and one friend stood, beginning to announce the dare. “You, (Y/N) (Y/L), have to meet and take a picture with…” they paused, “Spiderman.”

(Y/N) felt her eyes widen, and looked over to her friend Peter, who stood with a slight fear in his eyes, though she couldn’t pinpoint what the fear was for exactly. Nonetheless, she had to manage to track down, meet, and take a picture with Spiderman. Spiderman was elusive. Even though she lived in New York, (Y/N) had only ever seen him once. She didn’t even know what to do.

“How much time do I have?” (Y/N) asked, feeling anxiety bubbling in her stomach.

“You have,” The friend turned around and asked everyone else, “5 days.”

“5 days!?” (Y/N) was beyond livid, “You are fucking joking!”

“Sorry (Y/N), I guess you can’t complete this dare.” They said, smirking.


It had been three days already, and (Y/N) was getting desperate. She tried to do some petty crimes like stealing, but Spiderman wouldn’t come unless it was an emergency. (Y/N) figured he had better things to do than try and stop a high schooler from stealing.

Day four. She had one day left. Her reputation was on the line. Not only her reputation was, it seemed like her life was. Everything she had was built on this persona of fearlessness and bravery. Her friends, the way she carried herself, her confidence, even her family knew. It was pretty silly, but it was true.

She thought back to a previous dare. (Y/N) had jumped across from the roof of her apartment complex to another building. That was the first, and only, time she had seen Spiderman. He was there and jumped down, thinking she had been trying to commit suicide. It was actually his web, which had pushed her to the other building, that had helped her complete that dare.

She called up everyone and told them to meet her at her apartment building. And to bring a ladder. Everyone soon came, and (Y/N) explained the plan. She went to the top of the apartment complex and took the ladder. With help from friends on the other side, they steadied the ladder so it was suspended between the two buildings.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

writing prompt (if u want) : andrew and neil met before while neil was someone else and broke andrew's heart by leaving/vanishing/faking death/idfk and then neil just shows up like no ?? u are like chris or some name and u r dead what is going on and how dare u

so we’re going to pretend im not the shittiest person ever and didn’t take like a week to write this 2000 word thing but anyways hope u like it :)

—————————————————————————————–

The shock of the exy racquet crashing into Neil’s stomach was secondary to the shock that came from seeing Andrew Spear again.  While his lungs screamed for air, his brain screamed for an escape.  To run.  And never stop running again.

The edges of his vision turned as black as the shirt Andrew wore the first time they’d met those few years ago.  It had been a startlingly warm day, aided by the fact that Nathaniel and his mother had just migrated south again from Montreal.  California was everything and nothing that Nathaniel, no, Chris, had expected.  It was hot, and there was the smell of salt in the air from the Pacific Ocean – that Chris had known would be there.  He hadn’t counted on people being so open.  Maybe that’s why he was so drawn to Andrew, a spot of darkness against the ever sunny sky.  Andrew had never been an easy read.

The first time Andrew spoke to him, it was because he had gotten into a fight with a teacher.  Neil had left the classroom at the end of the day with his head down, hugging his books close to his body.  He didn’t know how long he’d stay here, but the fact that his mother had let him attend school was a good sign that they’d be in California for a while.  Still it wasn’t a good idea to make friends or have ties here.  Nobody should remember his face.

“You know,” Neil had heard him say as he passed a tree on the edge of the school’s property, “For someone who’s trying to keep a low profile you sure do love to get in a fight.”

He turned and came face to face with the blonde.  Andrew hadn’t mastered the look of complete apathy yet and his eyes revealed the tiny spark of interest Neil had put there.

“For someone who’s barely four feet tall you sure do love antagonizing people,” Neil responded.

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anonymous asked:

a top 10 or top 5 of the nastiest fandom wars that ever happened around the years on the internet in the Rivals verse and why they happened

Top Ten Nastiest Fandom Wars of the Rivals!Verse Skating Fandom

10) The ‘Only True Viktor Fans’ war - a war that happened relatively early in the series when a bunch of Viktor fans started getting elitist and claiming that a lot of Viktor fans were fake fans who only liked him because he was popular and famous. They claimed you had to have liked Viktor before he was popular to be a real fan or know loads of random facts about him to show how dedicated you were to him. There ended up being a online quiz made called ‘How To Prove You’re A True Viktor Fan’ asking all these different questions like his birthday and his favourite colour and all that. Phichit dared Yuuri to take it while Yuuri was drunk. Yuuri did and got 100%. He didn’t speak to Phichit for a solid three days afterwards.

9) The ‘Is Katsuki a Virgin’ war - When Yuuri was about 18 there was a big fandom war over whether he was a virgin or not as some people claimed he was too 'cute’ and 'innocent’ and some claimed he was clearly mature and experienced. It was fuelled a lot by the fact that no-one had ever seen Yuuri date and so they didn’t know if he was extremely good at hiding it or just didn’t do it. There was a lot of gross speculation going on and digging into Yuuri’s past through social media to try and figure it out. Eventually people on both sides really crossed a line trying to find 'proof’ either way and when people started asking Yuuri about it in person other parts of the fandom got together to tell them that it was wildly inappropriate and invasive and clearly made Yuuri very uncomfortable when people asked him and they all needed to stop right now

8) The 'Viktor/Victor’ war - A massive prolonged fandom argument over the correct way to spell Viktor’s name. Viktor eventually settled it by saying his name was written in Cyrillic anyway and so he really didn’t care how people wanted to translate it into the Latin alphabet

7) The 'Phichit/Yuuri vs Viktor/Yuuri’ war - Fandom war between shippers that got really nasty. People on the P/Y started calling V/Y disgusting and abusive and people on the V/Y side started calling P/Y manipulative and wrong and it all became a massive shitshow where people started to insult the real people they were talking about (Viktor, Phichit and Yuuri) over imaginary ships

6) Chris/Viktor vs Viktor/Yuuri War - Very similar to the above war only with Chris/Viktor instead of Yuuri/Phichit

5) The 'Stop Showing Real People Fanfic/Fanart’ war - Some Viktuuri shippers were taking things too far and asking invasive questions about Viktuuri to Viktor and Yuuri themselves or sending them links to explicit fanart or fanfic. Other people in the fandom had to step in and remind them that it wasn’t ok to show the real people fanfic or fanart unless they explicitly asked to see it as they might not be comfortable with it and that asking shipping questions to the real people involved was inappropriate. This was before Viktor and Yuuri were together and contributed to Yuuri’s fear of revealing their relationship as he knew that some people would never leave their personal lives alone once they knew.

4) The 'Sabotage Conspiracy Theories’ war - Some of this you saw in the fic itself but this was a prolonged war over all the conspiracy theories like 'Viktor Crashed Into Yuuri On Purpose’ theory, the 'Yuuri Sabotaged Viktor With The Doping Scandal’ etc etc

3) The 'Yuuri Katsuki is a Slut’ war - A small subset of Viktor fans started this war after Viktor and Yuuri’s relationship was revealed and started claiming that Yuuri was just a slut who slept around with other skaters to convince them to let him win. Viktor was FURIOUS when he heard about it and he spent about a solid week online absolutely ripping apart anyone who had been speaking badly about Yuuri. Chris and Phichit also helped very enthusiastically

2) The 'Viktor Fans vs Yuuri Fans’ war - The fandom war that extended across the whole series between the Viktor fans and the Yuuri fans that you see a lot of in Rivals. Most of it stayed to insulting each other online but there were several actual fights at competitions and some really bad sportsmanship shown during times when the fans booed or catcalled the opposing skater

1) The 'It’s All Fake’ war - The final big fandom war that happened after the Viktuuri relationship was revealed. While most fans accepted that they were together and were happy that they were happy regardless of who they supported before, there were a subset of skating fans who still loathed either Viktor and Yuuri and were convinced the whole relationship was fake. Viktor was manipulating Yuuri into being with him, Yuuri was blackmailing Viktor into pretending to love him, all stupid conspiracy theories like that along with the people who thought that they were both faking it for the publicity. These rumours were only completely crushed after Viktor and Yuuri got married and everyone could see how completely in love they were and how committed they were to each other.

Padfoot’s patronus

Sirius x reader

For the anon who wanted patronus fluff, hope you enjoy!

Requested

“You’re late, (Y/N).” Mcgonagall commented, taking in my flushed cheeks and windblown hair as I arrived at the classroom door.

I blushed, shifting the strap of the bag on my shoulder. “Sorry Professor.”

She looked at me for a moment as if trying to work out why I looked so disgruntled before brushing away my apology, deciding it wasn’t worth her time. “It’s alright. Take a seat.”

I did as she said and made my way to the back of the classroom where the Marauders, Lily and Marlene sat. Lily frowned as she saw the blush on my cheeks; it wasn’t often I got embarrassed. “You alright?” she asked as I took a seat at the desk behind her, besides Sirius.

“Yeah. Just got stopped by Greenwood. He said my essay on the lunar cycle of Jupiter was ‘unsatisfactory’.”

They all groaned; everyone hated the new astronomy teacher, but for some reason he always appeared to have it out for me in particular.

“He’s just a greasy-haired git, (Y/N). I bet he’ll be gone soon- even old  McGonny can’t stand him.” James stated. “Besides, I bet your essay was better than all of ours.”

I rolled my eyes, but his comment had made me smile. “You know that’s not true James.”

Keep reading

Maleficent is a dragon who cursed an infant because she wasn’t invited to a christening, this woman CANNOT raise a child.

Queen Griemhilde is a conceited, vain witch who killed a 14 year old because she was prettier than her, this woman CANNOT raise a child.

Jafar hypnotised the sultan, got himself turned into a magician, a genie, just for power and forced a 15 year old to be his slave girl, this man CANNOT raise a child.

Cruella DeVil is a mentally ill woman whose affection consists of derogatory comments, blowing smoke in your face and never taking no for an answer, this woman CANNOT raise a child.

So, let’s say Evie, Carlos, Mal and Jay grow up on an island without magic, surrounded by murderers, thieves, people who did bad things, people who are proud of these things. Let’s say, they don’t teach them to be evil. Let’s say, they teach them ‘don’t let anyone keep you from what you want, you are a queen, a dragon, a genie, you are magic’. Ben has dreams about a girl with green eyes and lilac hair, of a girl who is different, something fae, and he remembers the fairy who cursed his father because he wasn’t kind, so he asks his parents to let some of the villain’s kids stay in Auradon. Show them goodness.

When they arrive, they don’t arrive in a tumbling mess. They don’t even get out of the car, and when the chauffeur opens the door, there’s a stick thin girl with long blue hair staring at her hands, a muscled boy who almost isn’t a boy anymore, rubbing the bands on his arms, the girl from his dreams, eyes glowing, a little boy dressed in fur curled up in their laps.
They aren’t used to magic, even though it is in their very cores. So they take time to get used to it, to learn to live with death and power under their skin.

They weren’t sent to get a wand for world domination. They were sent to get a wand for freedom. So it takes them longer to realise just what their parents did. It takes talks and family day and Queen Leiah screaming at the top of her lungs ('Get away from here, do not touch my grandchild, my daughter will never be mine because of you, how dare you, how dare you?’) for Mal to realise that this isn’t about invitations and pettiness. It’s about a woman with hair as yellow as gold and lips that shame the red red rose, growing up poor, in a cottage, falling to her death at the touch of a spindle, this is about her mother talking about the raven with more fondness than her, this is about all the things her mother did, no matter the reason.

Evie still studies with Doug, and she hasn’t been taught to score a prince, she’s been taught to use her beauty, it is all men want, get rid of them before they get rid of you, do NOT die. So she meets with Doug at his house and Dopey stares at her and then he gets Snow White, who breaks down crying at the sight of this thin, beautiful girl with hair in a colour that has haunted her sleep ('what did she do to you, was it not enough for her to kill me, what has she done to you’) and Evie realises that her mother’s stories are not about men, they are about this woman, about her sister, who was 14 and beautiful and dead. And this is about her and all the bones she can count when she looks in the mirror.

Jay befriends the only other Arabian speaking children he can find, plays gurney, ruthless and self centered and for him, and one day Aladdin picks his children up and Jay does one of those backflips where he stays in the air for too long and it knocks the wind out of him. Jay doesn’t understand because of Aladdin, he sees a thief, who is like him, but it isn’t what makes him think, tourney does the trick because they are a team and the world does not revolve around him, he is not the center of the universe.

Carlos knows that his mother is wrong from the moment he is old enough to master critical thinking. She shrieks and hits and worships fur and he spends his days begging for scraps. There’s no magic in him, no rush he gets from crossing the barrier, so he helps his friends. They have always been his lifeline, so maybe now he can be theirs.

Someone give me a fic where Lena just keeps teasing Kara every time they see each other, like she’ll whisper in Kara’s ear as she passes her, how she looks very cute in her dress that day, or “your lipstick suits you today, makes them pop” she winks and sashays off. Or Lena would intentionally keep dropping things in front of Kara and Kara just losing her fucking mind and saying fuck it one day before leaving Lena’s office and just “this has been going on for too long, rao I can’t take this do you want me to kiss you?!” And Lena just slowly closes the gap between them, stare at Kara’s eyes, smirks and says, “yes” kind of like daring her but what she doesn’t anticipate is Kara actually doing it and now Lena’s office is a mess, the things on her table are now on the floor and she’s pretty sure Kara’s the reason why there’s a huge chunk of the table gone where Kara had grab hold.

Newcomers Pt4

Newcomers Pt4


Polt watches on the screen as the Human pods fire towards the planet his ship engage in long distance fore support, we hear over the coms the Humans wooping and screaming in joy as they descend to battle. He prays they are the warriors the stories say they are.

There is clearly a huge difference in tactic, the Benemar move tot land their shuttles in an area where there are amll number of Gal so as to make it easier to deploy. The Humans though are landing straight in the middle of their army.


The Humans pods are cylinder shaped and skid and slide and some inbed themselves in the earth, almost as soon as they hit the ground they come to life. The Humans within leap out and engage the Gal, the Gal are a multi limbed creature who hive mind comands them to conquer worlds. They react to the Humans instantly and throw themselves at the newcomers. The fighting is close and bloody…for the Gal.

Even a number of the pods come to life, suddenly extending arms and legs then a head and with more guns that a whole platoon would have. Polt is watching from orbit and is shocked by what he sees. The Gal move in an unpredictable manner, their limbs able to propel them in any direction instantly but somehow the Humans are keeping up, not only that but are able to see where the Gal will go and fire a shot at first at nothing but then the Gal literally runs into it. Even in close combat, they get in close and wrestle them tot he ground, it usually ends in their injury but it gives the others a chance to grab hold of the Gal and pull it apart.

Polt watches as the stories he has been told have clearly fallen very short of the truth.

The Benemar have only just mustered their army and are moving to engage the Gal’s rear while the Humans are within them and fighting towards the front where there are survivors. A number landed by the natives and are helping with the defence until the main army arrives, which by his estimates, will not be long.


A part of the Gal’s horde has shifted its direction and his moving to face the Benemar but the majority are all converging on the Humans. The Gal’s hive mind senses they are the main threat. The Humans have been fighting for over ten hours and have yet to slow down, observers see that the humans are fighting in groups, one group fights while the other rests this way their efficiency is more sustainable. Their massive walkers are also reaping a bloody toll on the Gal giving them cover and helping the natives get to the shuttles to take them away from the fighting.

Hesky grabs a Gal and swings it into another before jumping on it and driving his blade straight down killing both. “Two Gal one blade” he laughed to himself.

“Hey Hopkins!!”

“Yeah” he replies shooting a Gal before turning to him.

“Ever watched those eastern animations? You think the Gal did too?”

“Don;t go getting ideas about fucking them, you don’t know where they’ve been”

“Don’t tell me what to do! Come here Gal, tentacle fucking for everyone!!”

“I can tell you what to do I am your superior what the hell are you doing? Good god man?!”

“How dare you judge me!!”


The battle raged for days before the Gal’s Hive mind began to loose control, too many of it’s nodes had been destroyed and without them the Gal cease to function and became nothing more than a slump of goo.

The Benemar had been bogged down unable to assist in the wider battle while the Humans ran all over the planet, if there was even a hint or a whisper of survivors the went to try and find them. The Remens were massively grateful, where others would abandon them the Humans had refused to do so and would not take a single step back without the Gal paying for it in blood. They had shed their own blood to save an alien race that had kinship to them yet they protected them as if they were family.  

When the Benemar Chief finally met up with Captain Clerk they were finishing of the last remnants of the Gal.

“Where have you been?” Clerk demanded to know.

“Fighting what else would we be doing?”

“Not a lot, we’ve been all over this rock and as far as my scouts say you never let the canyon”

“It was the best defensive position available”

“But we were not here to defend we were here to attack, take the fight to them not sit and wait for them if we did that the Remens would be extinct”

“If they are not strong enough to fight themselves I will not waste my–” Clerk struck him and went flying into his warriors.

“Speak like that again and I won’t give you a love tap, these people deserve to survive, we can help them and that is all the reason I need to do so”

The Benemar warriors were about to attack the Humans, but as they saw they were surrounded, every Humans they saw glared at them, their bodies covered in Gal blood whereas the Benemar were spotless.

These Humans, so powerful were they that they could conquer the galaxy but instead they didn’t they protected those who could not and fought those who would oppress others. The Chief knew at that moment, that his Chieftains back on Bento Prime ever try to face these Human again, they would be so merciful a second time. He had to change their minds.


Hesky sat by the fire holding a piece of Gal over the fire to cook it.

“You are not seriously going to eat that are you?” Hopkins asked.

“Why not, I’m hungry and if I have to eat another curry Ill go mad”

“You’re already mad!”

“Says you”

“Yes says me!!”

Hesky then took a huge bite out of the tentacle and chewed.

“How is it” Hopkins asked.

“Taste like…like…victory!”

“…gimme some”  

Very professional revenge for unprofessional behavior.

As humans often do, I became tired one day at work. I decided to use one of my 15 minute paid breaks to take a nap at my desk. One of my coworkers, who I have not only never wronged but never really had a conversation with prior to this, posted incredibly unflattering photos of me sleeping on Facebook all captioned by him with insults to my character and appearance. So, I got to wake up to a bunch of comments from people I’ve never met about how I’m a lazy, special-snowflake, millennial who looks like she used to be a man. That was super fun. What was even more fun was the fact that he’s firmly planted in the Good Ol’ Boys Club, which makes him bulletproof. The manager agreed that it wasn’t professional, but the poor man was suddenly and inexplicably stripped of his ability to do anything about it by those jerks in corporate.

I decided to do my poor manager a favor and take the responsibility off his hands. I sent all the screenshots I took to HR. They can’t fire my jerk coworker, but there are fates worse than firing. He is now currently becoming more and more annoyed by the mandatory harassment training he has to do. I can see him watching it at his desk, making annoyed comments to anyone who walks by and generally looking like he wants to shoot himself. I’m having a very good day today.

The kicker to all of this? I’ve been keeping track of all the 2 and 3-hour paid lunches that Mister Champion of the Company takes. To loosely quote the same man in his hilarious Facebook tirades against me, “How dare someone steal company time like this. What’s wrong with people?” I’ll be sending all of that to HR, plus some recordings of his racist/sexist tirades, when I leave in a week or two. I have interviews lined up, all for better paying jobs with lesser commutes.

Sayonara, shitty company, you gave me the experience and the resume boost to ditch you like the sack of crap you are.

update:

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anonymous asked:

Viktor is a barista at a coffee shop near where Yuuri works. Yuuri stops in each morning and they obviously notice each other -- there are jokes about spelling Yuuri's name wrong etc. But one morning Yuuri walks up to order and Viktor already knows his standard order and that makes Yuuri super anxious because he doesn't like people remembering him since it feels like a lot of attention so he stops going to the coffee shop in the morning... take it away :D

Yuri or Yuuri?

length: 1.6k; rating: all ages;

“So the barista is…”

Attractive, Yuuri’s mind finishes automatically. The barista is off-putting in simultaneously the best and worst possible ways. He’s off-putting in the best way because he’s gorgeous, silver-haired and blue-eyed and everything that Yuuri’s wildest dreams couldn’t even come up with. But he’s also off-putting in the worst way because the barista’s aforementioned attractiveness makes Yuuri’s words come out in awkward, pieced-together chunks that make him appear to be an idiot.

“…nice,” Phichit finishes his phrase, smiling knowingly at Yuuri.

“He’s nice,” Yuuri agrees, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand. He takes another sip of his drink.

Phichit takes the cup out of his hand, and Yuuri tries to grab it back, but his friend is squinting at the name written on it. Yuri. “He spells your name wrong.”

“Plenty of people do.”

“There’s no line right now. Why don’t I go correct him?”

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Dating would include – Twenty One Pilots

Originally posted by rhcpchili99

Tyler Joseph:

  • He plans a ton of different dates whenever he has time
  • Ever been in a pillow fort? - Say no more
  • “We are the rulers of this fort!”
  • “I even found two crowns for us, my King.”
  • Super sunny day? - Tyler takes you to the park for a picnic
  • “God, you and your Taco Bell addiction… It’s beautiful, Ty.”
  • “Everything for you, [Y/N]…”
  • Tired to go out? - Let’s have a movie night with snacks
  • “Catch, Tyler! … Geez, we need to train that way more.”
  • The two of you keep the public display of affection as low as possible
  • Yes, there are a few kisses now and there and holding hands
  • But the rest is reserved for your time in private
  • “You don’t know how long I waited to have you for me alone…”
  • “Someone is eager tonight.”
  • “How can’t I? You look even more breathtaking than usual, if that’s possible.”
  • Tyler shows you how much you mean to him through other actions
  • The way he presents you to the world and speaks about you in interviews
  • “With [Y/N] by my side I can accomplish everything.”
  • “I can’t live without my better half anymore. [Y/N] is the world for me.”
  • Everyone can see how much he is in love with you
  • Should Tyler be away for a long time, he tries to keep in touch as much as possible
  • In between times he sends you tons of silly pictures and messages
  • But Ty loves to have endless calls with you
  • “How was your day, [Y/N]? I hope good. If not, I’m here.”
  • “I’m not going to end this call until you are asleep.”
  • “I love you so much…”
  • Fights in the your household is a very quiet event
  • Neither of you raise your voice at the other one –not even once
  • The deadly looks you have say more than thousand words
  • “Don’t you dare to give me the "forbidden look”!“
  • But in the end the fight doesn’t last longer than ten minutes
  • "I’m so sorry for everything. Can I make it up to you, love of my life?”
  • And Tyler knows how to push your buttons so you forgive him
  • You know Tyler will be there for you, when you need him
  • He loves to take care of you and making your day better
  • Massages, cuddles, kisses, cooked meals, everything you want or need
  • He always wants you to be by his side, when he writes a new song
  • You are his inspiration – his muse – if you want to say so
  • Tyler cares about your opinion on his music and songs
  • “Wow, feels like pure darkness, but with a tiny ray of sunshine and hope in it.”
  • Once in a while he writes a song about you as a gift
  • When words fail him, the music will talk for him
  • “Oh my god, Tyler. That’s so wonderful. Sweet. Beautiful.”
  • “I would catch a star for you, if you want it.”

Originally posted by bulletproofbands

Josh Dun

  • The two of you take care of each other – almost having a sixth sense for that
  • You know exactly when the other one has a bad day
  • So nightly trips to Taco Bell or skating together are usual things
  • “I feel so much better now. Thank you, darling.”
  • After all this time you two are dating, Josh is still a blushing mess sometimes
  • Might it be the way you look stunning in your clothes
  • Or the most adorable compliment he tells you
  • “I am truly dating an angel. How did I get so lucky?”
  • His love to you gets stronger every day he has you by his side
  • Josh loves you to show your happy relationship in public
  • Matching couple shirts during the trip to Disneyland
  • “The Boss” - “The Real Boss”
  • Piggyback rides whenever you want – in the park, in the venue, …
  • “When is my turn to get a ride?”
  • “Don’t give him bad ideas, Tyler!”
  • And tons of vines you two do together
  • “[Y/N] is my favorite person on earth … right after Tyler.”
  • “… Seriously?”
  • He also tries to stay in touch with you, when he is away
  • Your phone is overflowing with messages, pictures and snapchats
  • To be honest you only miss him more  
  • “How is my love doing today? Feel hugged… I miss you, [Y/N].”
  • Of course, Tyler approves your relationship doubtlessly
  • He is thankful that you make Josh happy without doing anything
  • And the support you give him, Tyler and the band in general
  • “Yes, a match made in heaven… Lucky Josh.”
  • Once in a while the two of you fight – barely but you do
  • There is a lot of yelling, because both of you are emotional
  • But not a single harsh word were ever said
  • It’s not your wish to hurt the other one emotionally
  • “Dear Lord! We talked about this, Josh. I’m done with this topic!”
  • “What if I’m not done? It is important for me, [Y/N]!”
  • After a few minutes both of you apologize for your rude behavior
  • “If it’s important for you, then it is for me too.”
  • You never complain about how loud Josh plays on his drums sometimes
  • He just forgets everything around him lost in his music
  • Adoring the – just to mention – handsome smile on his lips is worth the noise
  • That’s what makes him happy so you are happy too
  • Knowing what you endure from time to time he tries to fulfil every wish of yours
  • Neither of you is really the type for big and expensive gifts
  • The little things in life are the important ones
  • “Hungry? Wait, I get you your favorite snack.”
  • “Don’t worry, I’ll do the dishes tonight. Just relax and enjoy yourself.”
  • Josh holds you close to his chest  during the night
  • It’s like the place in his arms is perfectly made for you
  • He literally feels how much you mean to him  
  • Your heart beating simultaneously with his own
  • The warmth of your skin on his
  • That’s pure comfort for him
  • “God, I love you so much, [Y/N]. More than you can imagine.”
12.11 coda

fan fiction gap. also phone calls.

Wet leaves sop underfoot as the brothers trek through the woods, retracing Dean’s invisible steps. Sam is keeping both eyes out for anything that could give away the story of what happened last night, fully aware that his brother is practically useless right now.

“So, like,” Dean begins. Sam takes an exasperated breath in prep for the question. “Just how many things do we kill?”

Sam sighs. “A lot.”

“Yeah but, like. More examples,” Dean says, kicking some leaves. The flashlight wiggles in his grip and points too far to left, so Sam gingerly guides his hand back up. Dean smiles at him. “Please tell me I’ve met a mermaid.”

Sam scoffs. “Siren, actually.”

Dean’s eyes go bright and wide. “No way,” he breathes. “I was kidding. Ariel is real?”

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Imagine You Have a Rare Disorder

You’re a sophomore in college when you start noticing some odd changes.Every month, about two weeks after your period, you’re easily distracted, especially by men. A professor’s cologne in the hallway can send you into a wild daydream that makes your cheeks flush and pupils dilate. As a conservative girl saving yourself for marriage, you’re worried, so you make an appointment with a counselor. The counselor reassures you that feeling more easily aroused during ovulation is perfectly normal.

Month by month, the symptoms gradually get worse, but you do your best to work around them. You start packing several extra pairs of panties in your schoolbag on “those days,” because by mid-morning, you’ve soaked through the originals and are paranoid about the smell. You drop an art history class because the male anatomy on display makes you lose all concentration; you avoid the gym two days a month for the same reason.

* * *

By the middle of your junior year, your symptoms have worsened drastically. Not only do you get wet and flushed at the slightest suggestion of testosterone, but thanks to your hypersensitive clit and lips, you’re also prone to spontaneous orgasms. Thankfully, there is usually at least a second or two of buildup, which enables you to brace yourself and disguise the climax when in public. But with each new cycle, your orgasms are triggered more randomly, and they’re becoming longer and stronger.

You eventually figure out that you can stop having orgasms at inconvenient times… if you release the tension yourself, at regular intervals. So when you feel the onset of your heat, in addition to extra panties, you pack a massive vibrator and spare batteries. (You try using a more discreet one at first, but you seem to build up a tolerance to it; it isn’t long before you’ve upgraded to the biggest one on the market.) Whenever you get a chance between classes, you run to the nearest private washroom and unwrap the silicone savior with clammy, shaking hands. You can’t rip your panties down and shove it in fast enough. You brace yourself on the edge of the sink with your left hand, convulsing again and again as you thrust the vibe into yourself with your right, panting like a bitch in heat, exploding with fluid nearly every time, fluid that somehow never runs out, fluid that streams down your hand and thighs and soaks your jeans and puddles on the floor until your body finally gets what it needs. You clean your vibrator as well as you can, touch up your makeup, and make the most of the few hours of freedom that follow.    

After hitting rock bottom in your parents’ bathroom over Easter weekend, you finally put your denial aside long enough to do some research. As you feared all along, none of this is normal. Not even close. You see a GP, who refers you to a series of specialists.

The invasive examinations inevitably cause you to dig your nails into the paper and climax violently. Each doctor awkwardly asks if you’d like to reschedule, but you beg them to keep going, to find out what’s wrong.

* * *

It turns out that what’s wrong is your ovaries.

Or rather, your extra ovaries.

As the MRI scans show, you currently have three pairs of full-sized ovaries, plus at least a dozen more pairs of varying sizes, all growing rapidly. This steady but dramatic escalation in fertility has been causing you to get increasingly high on your own hormones each month.

The doctors believe that a genetic mutation is probably involved, but agree that in the short term, the ovaries will need to be surgically removed before your symptoms get any worse.

Unfortunately, the only surgeon qualified for this procedure is booked solid for another month. The doctors estimate that you will have a fourth pair of functional ovaries by then, so your next ovulation – due in three weeks - is likely to be even more intense than the last.

“It is absolutely essential,” intones the gynecologist, “that you use birth control responsibly in the meantime, and ideally that you refrain from sexual intercourse of any kind.”

“I’m abstinent by choice,” you reply proudly. “I may need to physically… handle… my urges, but when it comes to guys, I can control myself.”

“Ah… well, even so,” the neurologist says, frowning, “You can’t afford to take any chances in your condition. Even if you’ve stayed out of trouble so far, your hormones have already caused serious behavioral changes over the past year. I don’t mean any disrespect, but I highly doubt that your purity ring will stand much of a chance once that fourth pair matures.”

“And if you get pregnant during this kind of ovulation, we’re looking at guaranteed multiples,” warns the obstetrician. “You don’t need that on top of everything else. Incidentally, we’ve also detected some other hormonal and physical abnormalities that may have repercussions on pregnancy – we’re still waiting on those tests. So for those reasons, you really need to do everything in your power to prevent impregnation for the time being. Okay?”

The other doctors concur. They prescribe a birth control pill, sedatives to calm your nerves during your next ovulation, and a morning-after pill (“in case something happens”). They also recommend that you employ female supervision, and perhaps even physical restraints, to keep you from having sex with a man before your surgery.

After your appointment, you go to the pharmacy and buy the sedatives, but you crumple the other prescriptions into a ball and toss them in a trash can. Birth control? Plan B? Restraints? How dare they. You’ve gotten this far without their condescending advice. Your body may have betrayed you, but your virtue has been unflagging through it all.

And it won’t let you down now.

* * *

In the days before your next heat, you get ready. You fill your studio apartment with food, water, vibrators, and batteries. You get a vague doctor’s note from a clinic and reschedule an exam. You plan to take a double dose of sedatives as soon as you feel your time coming on, which will hopefully make the physical distress more manageable.

You’re a little nervous, but you’re sure that if you stick to the plan and stay indoors, everything will be okay.

* * *

…You come into heat a full day ahead of schedule, in the middle of the night, your hormones surging and overwhelming you so quickly that they jolt you awake.

“Ohh… oh God…”

You fumble for the lamp on your nightstand, manage to switch it on. Your need is already at a critical level; this is happening too fast.

You try to think. What was it you needed to do? You needed to take… something…

“Nghhaaahhhhh— oh fuck, fuck, fuck…”

It’s no use, you can’t remember. The plan is gone. All you can think about is filling yourself, now. You yank the nightstand drawer off its rails; the vibrator rolls under the bed.

“No! Shit! Wh-where… is…”

As you drop a foot to the ground to get out of bed, your pussy brushes against the edge of the mattress.

“Ahhhh… fuuuuuuuck!”

An orgasm rocks through you. You hold on for dear life. This is not how it usually goes. Usually you have much more time before it gets this intense.

The orgasm drops off, and your desperate arousal instantly returns. Carefully this time, you lower yourself to the ground and grope around frantically for the vibrator. It’s no use; you can’t locate it.

As if enraged by your failure, the throbbing heat in your hugely engorged clit and lips flares inward and upward, inflaming every square millimeter of tissue between entrance and cervix.

“Haaaaahhhhhhhhh… oh God! Oh God please fuhh—ooooohhhhhh God…!”

You’re out of your depth now. Even with your biggest vibrator, you’d be powerless to meet this kind of demand. You’ve never experienced anything like this before.

And yet, shuddering alone in the darkness, you recognize it. It’s your primal instruction, your absolute purpose. But to overcome your own refusal of it, you need to say it out loud, to hear yourself name it.

“Need to… m-make…”

You sob as tears flood your eyes. You try again.

“I… need to make… babies…”

Your innermost Truth is so beautiful, so simple. You want to kill yourself for denying it for so long. But if you do that, your babies will never grow inside you, will never be born. And that would be a thousand times worse that death.

Lurching to your feet, you manage to soothe yourself slightly by murmuring your Truth under your breath. It’s the only thing that gets you from your bed to your door without collapsing.

Need to make my babies. Oh my babies, oh so many, oh so big and strong. My babies. They’re going to grow so strong, so big, so many, so many, so many, my beautiful, precious babies.

You find yourself going down the hall. Your body leads the way; your mind follows by quite a distance. Even so, you know where you’re going, because it’s the only place that exists anymore.

The apartment next door, where the young male lives.

* * *

There’s light under his door – he’s a night owl. You knock. No answer. You knock again.

Footsteps.

When the male sees you in his doorway, his look of annoyance turns to shock. You’re wearing a threadbare t-shirt that accentuates your erect nipples. A gold crucifix pendant. No panties.

Before he can say a word, you shove a hand down his boxers. Just the sight and smell of the male should have caused you to climax immediately, let alone the warmth of his thick member, but your adrenaline-fueled sense of purpose buys you some time.

Staring up at him with your hugely dilated pupils, you manage to communicate some of your Truth as you stroke him hard, but you can feel your furious need surging once more.

“Y-you… you need you to fffuck me and put… put you cum-m in… ahh— inside me. Right now-ohhhhh. Ahhh—f-fuck. I’m gonna… I’m gonna come, but it’s just–haaahhhh… shit… listen… y-you need to fuck me after this bec-auunhhhaaahhhhse… haaaaah… becauss’ I need to get so fucking ­big I can’t move… and I… I need… my… my… my precious babi— oh! Oh God!-AAAHHHNNNN—!!!” You barely have time to pull your hand away and throw both arms up against the doorframe before an orgasm seems to electrocute your entire body from within. You feel more liquid than ever gush out of you, and your vision blurs.

When the world comes back into focus, you look up to find abject horror in the male’s eyes. But it doesn’t matter; you know without even looking that his cock is hard as iron. You stumble past him into the flickering light of his TV. There’s a beat-down, stain-covered couch against a wall. You kneel, facing backwards, on one of its filthy cushions, gripping the seat back for dear life with both hands. Then you raise your ass and display your throbbing wet entrance to the male. You pray silently, feverishly, not daring to look behind you.

My babies. Need to feel my babies and grow them and make them, so many, so big and so strong and so precious. Please God, please God, I need my babies, my babies, oh please… fuck, fuck, why isn’t it in me yet? Why isn’t he filling me with my babies? Please, please, I can’t take this anymore…!

But just as you’re about to turn around, you feel big, warm hands on your hips, and finally, finally, the male plunges into you.

* * *


Thanks for reading,
Body Hostage