how to rock a good deed

What if Waluigi is a fae? Like it would explain so much and it’s not too far fetched as magic has always been in Mario games. Some proof:

  • Fae are called the hidden folk; Waluigi is never seen in the flesh in a Mario game, only side games.
  • Waluigi’s grudge with Luigi started for basically no reason. Fae are the pettiest sons a bitches ever so for all we know Luigi might have just sneezed wrong and Waluigi was all like ‘the audacity! oh well i must antagonize him till the end of time now’
  • Fae are tricksters, who can’t lie but can confuse people with their words. Waluigi constantly overshares about how forgotten underrated he is, while also heckling others and saying frankly bizarre shit.
  • Fae have ‘unusual eyes’. Waluigi’s eyes glow.
  • Their sense of social etiquette is completely different to humans. They don’t like manners but instead deal in what the others owe them for a good deed. They loathe for their actions to be forgotten. Waluigi calls people cheaters all the time, is crass and has no good relationships with anyone apart from Wario.
  • Fae can’t touch iron, be exposed to a metric fuckton of herbs and many other things. No wonder the dude only rocks up to Tennis and karting, if he walked 50 feet out of that stadium he’d probably combust or turn into ash or some shit.
Where You Belong

Title: Where You Belong

 For @princess-of-erebor1992

Summary: Everything is becoming too much for you, you don’t know what to do or where you belong.  But luckily, a special dwarf is willing to help you find out.  

 Warnings: Anxiety.  Slight depression.  And complete and utter fluff.  

 Masterlist of Fanfiction


Originally posted by iamjaynaemarie

You put your head on your knees as you curled up in your chair at the library.  This didn’t feel right either, you thought as you stared down at the book in front of you.  The battle was past, the victory won, and none of your friends had perished. It was a grand time.  The reconstruction of Erebor was under way and everyone had their tasks.  


Except you.

Keep reading

Treasure 1 ( fluff)

This fic is based on season 8 episode 2. Rick finds a baby called Gracie, and theories say it might be Negan’s.

Pairing : Negan x Female Reader OC (Rick’s daughter / adult )

Warnings : language


“Hey Rick!!!”

Rick turned around to look at the man calling up his name. His face was bruised and covered in blood and sweat. Hands also covered in blood but it wasn’t his. It belonged to the savior guarding a suite in a hotel with his life.

Keep reading

'Go To Sleep Little Warden' A Bed Time Story by Zevran Aranai
'Go To Sleep Little Warden' A Bed Time Story by Zevran Aranai

Also titled, ‘Zevran’s Bedtime Extravaganza.’

Upon a lovely message received by an anon who said that Zevran’s voice helps them sleep, the ever wonderful spicyshimmy and I agreed that we all need a bedtime story told by the saucy crow.

The script is included below for your convenience. The script is, as always, written by the amazing spicyshimmy. Please check out her blog if you haven’t. She is immensely talented and a wonderful person.

Zev’s voice is provided by myself.

Are you certain you wish that I should be the one for this task, my dear warden? I have been told my bedtime stories induce nightmares at best and, on occasion, acute indigestion–but those are only the dirty ones, and the ones about Antiva, and especially the ones with poetry…

Ah, so you are giving me that look. I see how it is. Who can resist those mabari pup eyes? Ahem. Once upon a time, a handsome elf was at last given cause to rest in the pillowy volumes of an older gentlewoman’s magnificent bosom. This was after he had worn himself

most ragged with vital business–matters of utmost importance to Thedas–such as massaging the feet of a beautiful bard and offering anatomy lessons to an attractive, if tongue-tied, templar. Ah, yes, what a day it had been for our hero, the handsome elf, as he drew diagrams in the mud, then attempted to assuage the templar’s trauma after a certain mabari warhound bit a sizable chunk from a most vital area! Though he did his best, the handsome elf could not entirely convince the tongue-tied templar that such an action would not occur when said anatomy was bared in real life–though perhaps this was in part due to the influence of a witchy woman, who fed the warhound sweet treats after it had destroyed the diagram, all without allowing her gaze to wander from the tongue-tied templar and mouthing, with her sweet, supple lips: tonight, you! Oh, the adventures that were had on that fine day, as a broad-backed qunari darned socks under the watchful eye of the well-endowed gentlewoman, to the dulcet tunes of the party’s malodorous dwarf hiccuping a masterful baritone, and a sentient pile of rocks, bedecked and bejeweled, ventured deep into the forest, and returned curiously adorned with molted feathers…  Ah. You are asleep already. A testament to how weary you must be, I am sure, and not to the quality of this handsome elf’s storytelling. Does the sound of my voice escort you into the Fade?  No; no, perhaps it does not. Such a foolish supposition, a notion too romantic for the more inhospitable corners of Ferelden, no?  Yet here I am, speaking to one who slumbers on in places where I cannot hope to reach. If there is any justice, any payment for good deeds hard-won and even harder done, then you are dreaming of rainbows and pussycats and perhaps even an Orlesian cheese tasting platter, with myself as the platter upon which the cheeses are served… Would that I could join you–yet it does not bother me to remain with my eyes open and my daggers ready.  You are in my arms. No harm will come to you.

There’s only really one time in my life that I can remember having truly done a “good deed,” one I didn’t do for my own benefit or ego and one that didn’t personally benefit me in some way. I was about maybe eight or nine years old, and some children outside my school were making plans to throw rocks at and kill one of the little brown bats that roosted under the eaves, where unfortunately, people could easily see them.

I don’t remember the exact threat I gave them, only that they ran off very quickly. I don’t know how the little bat fared in the world after that, but in that moment at least, I knew he’d live to fly another night.

The pendant is for sale here.

anonymous asked:

I'm a Captain Swan shipper and Swan Queen rocks:) I thought since SQers have been getting a lot of anon hate, I might send some love and positive stuff instead:) Have a good day!

This is how fandom is meant to be! <3 Thank you CS anon for taking the time to do this wonderful, heartfelt deed. Gracias! This is so important. It’s MORE of US (positive shippers) in the fandom than those twisted trolls who make so much noise with their hatred. Let’s spread LOVE not HATE. Ship and let ship.