i do not see the point of this crappy graphic either

Hiveswap  Review (Spoiler)

We’ve been waiting an awfully long time for the Homestuck Adventure Game. First kickstarted in 2012, it’s gone through a troubled development cycle between 3 studios and…. yeah, you get the drift. Even in its final form, Hiveswap has gone through numerous unexplained delays (most infamously the last minute January Launch Month delay), and the development team for it had been very tight-hush until the end of August when a final release date of September 14th was announced. 

Now that Hiveswap is out, we’re able to see for ourselves what the development team has been working on. Does it hold up to expectations? Does it make up for the hard delays and extremely concerning lack of communication? 

Those are answers you can only decide for yourselves. What I will say, however, is this: Hiveswap is a charming and visually stunning introduction to the Homestuck world, that combines only the best of Homestuck’s humor with a new calmer, more curious and coherent setting.

It’s a shame, then, that the content of Act 1 isn’t a little bit longer. However, the gimmick of combining any item with each other and getting a new description will draw out the length for any lore completionists.

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Church Oppa (Joshua/Jisoo Smut)

Summary: The shy little boy next door - complete with a purity ring and church camp certified, not exactly a match for someone who’s spent a fortune in foundation just to cover up hickies. But Joshua caught your attention within minutes and you couldn’t help but hope that God turned a blind eye when you captured his. Smut. 

(AN: Okay I had a lot of fun writing this and it is a little bit shorter than my other ones (5400 words) but eh whatever I hope you guys like it. I focused so much on the pinky ring because when I first saw the Seventeen rings honestly I didn’t know they were band rings, no words of a lie I thought they were purity rings because I had just come from the 5sos fandom and a bunch of people were saying that Luke’s pinky ring was a purity ring and he stopped wearing it randomly after his eighteenth birthday, so… whatever please enjoy the smut and message me feedback! -Tanisha<3)

Empty house - boring. TV - boring. YouTube - boring. Tumblr - boring. Homework - boring. Sunday afternoon - boring, boring, boring. There was nothing good about Sundays and you had no clue who invented them or thought they were a good idea. But, you supposed, whatever day ultimately took their place would suck just as much.

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anonymous asked:

Please don't apologize for your I.A.H.B. spam, Felix! Your art is amazing no matter what you draw! Another thing you're pretty good at is headcanons, so maybe you could share your I.A.H.B ones?

You’re super duper sweet, tysm?? I actually have a lot of headcanons, but I’ve been a little hesitant to share them, seeing as this film hasn’t even been released yet. But whatever, I guess, here (Under the cut friends): 

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/Wasuremono/

(n) forgotten or lost things; a notebook lost on a bus, a pencil left at school.

“Lost and forgotten. That’s all I feel…”

“Don’t we all?”

A/N: This amazing graphic made by my cool ass friend soulmate - @donttellme-byebye​. She be so cool, i cri :’)

//CHAPTER 1// CHAPTER 2// CHAPTER 3// CHAPTER 4// CHAPTER 4.5//CHAPTER 5// CHAPTER 6//


“No mom, I am not going to wear a dress. WE ARE GOING TO A PLAY AT THE UNI AUDITORIUM, NOT AT THE OPERA HOUSE.”

“But, you’ll look good, sweetie. Don’t you want to look good on your date?” Your dear mother is still stuck on the thought that Taehyung had asked you out. Which he hasn’t. He invited you to go with everyone else to the play being performed at the university. Loads of stress on the ‘with everyone else’.

“Mom. I will repeat this just one more time. It’s not a date,” her face falls immediately, “and I look good enough in my outfit. It’s okay for today,” you say, gesturing to your clothes.

You can’t believe it, but for once, you did put thought into your outfit. Plaid button down. Faded blue jeans. Your favourite chucks. An outfit that actually matches… it’s quite a feat for you. And your mom should know that.

When she puts the dress in question back in your closet, you think she’s finally given up, “Okay, so it isn’t a date. But please, ________, do not tell me you’re going out like that! It’s so…. basic,” but apparently not.

“Where did you learn that word from mom?!”

“Not where. Whom. The new girls at work are always saying that, so I asked them what it means. I try to keep up with the trends, you know,” UGHHHH.

You lift your hands up in surrender, “Okay fine, mom. Tell me what to wear. BUT NOT THE DRESS,” because you know she won’t give up until she has her way. You got that from her.

“Finally~” She claps her hands with satisfaction, turning back towards your closet with flourish. She goes through your regular clothes first, you can hear her muttering profanities under her breath, and then she moves on the section where you stow your lesser worn clothes. She takes her time, looking at each one thoroughly, making you groan out loud. You should’ve known not to hand her the reins.

“Here we go!” You’re already ready to begin protesting, but once you set your eyes on what she’s picked outyour jaw hangs open, your words stuck in your throat. “Is it that bad? The girls at work gave me tips, and I followed all of them here. Maybe the dress-”

“Mom, I don’t know how much time you’re spending with the unnies at work, but you’re certainly not wasting any time,” Her whole face lifts, “Because, that, is perfect.”

“Chim, take that right,” they enter the street, colonial style houses line the sides, “It should be the seventh house on the left,” Jimin drives slowly, counting the house numbers carefully.

They find it quickly, a regular sized house, with a light grey wash. Taehyung realizes he’s walked past this house quite a lot on the way to school. He just never knew you called it home.

Jimin beeps as he carefully pulls up at the curb. Even though he threw a tantrum about the rates of second hand cars being almost as high as new ones when he bought it, Taehyung knew he felt really proud of himself for saving up and buying it on his own. Crappy and second hand or not.

Just as Taehyung steps out of the car, he hears the front door opening. His eyes shoot up meeting yours, and travel downwards from there. That’s when, he thinks, he can say with confidence that he’s seen an angel in real life. A pretty rock chic one, but angel nonetheless.

He freezes in place, eyes taking everything in. He knows he’s staring, but he can’t help it. He’s never seen you in anything other than graphic tees and button downs. But he’s glad he can say you look better than ever right now. It looks like a simple white tee at first, then he notices how the white fades into grey, and then into black, which seamlessly blends in with the infinitely black skinny jeans underneath. And his jaw drops even lower when he sees the metal studded combat boots you have on.

“H-hey,” you say, almost inaudibly, as you make your way to the car. You stop right in front of him and he can spell the breezy perfume on you as you smile and rest your arms on your hips, “Is this dressed up enough for you, oppa?”

Taehyung somehow regains himself, and throws on his classic smirk, “Well, I didn’t know I was important enough to you that you would do what I asked, ________-ah.”

He thought he didn’t know what to expect, but he sure as hell didn’t expect you to smirk right back at him and tease, “Who ever said I did it for you, huh, Taehyung-ah?”

Before he can retort, Jimin interrupts, “If you guys can stop flirting and get in the car, maybe we’ll get to Nino’s in time.”

And either of them can retort to that, they hear the door open once more. A tall dark haired woman, who can only be your mother, steps out onto the porch. “_________ sweetie, you forgot your coat, it’s pretty cold out.”

You jog back and take the long grey coat from your mother’s hands, “Thanks mom, I’ll see you for dinner~” you take a step down, but turn back and around again, “Ma, ppoppo?” you ask, tapping your cheek.

Your mom grins and pecks your cheek softly, after which you rush back towards the car. Taehyung holds the door open, and gets into the end. “Thanks oppa,” you say, and buckle in.

“Don’t I get a ppoppo now, too?” Taehyung points to his cheek, as he clicks his seatbelt into place.

The car suddenly takes off, cutting your words short. Jimin grumbles from the front, “Jeez, I feel like a chauffeur for a newlywed couple right now…”


A/N: Gods, that was such a filler….and so fluffy ^.^ Also, I’m sure you guys noticed there’s such a huge change in the OC/Reader’s behavior towards the end. That will be explained quite soon, so keep tuned :) Thanks again for all the support! *I didn’t proof-read this, if you spot a spelling/ grammatical error, please do tell me*

Which One...

A/N: This is my contribution to Fluff Week. I saw this on Pinterest believe it or not and thought it would make a great addition. Now I’m going to get back to my angst!

Which One Hogs the Blanket

In all of his relationships, he had never enjoyed sleeping with them. Yes, sex was good and all of that, but actually sleeping. He was always miserable. Despite his big, broad build, he actually would get cold rather easily and would need the coverage of a blanket. All of his previous girlfriends would always hog all of the blankets, but not Amelia. Every morning when they woke up they were both fully satisfied. At least, he thought so.

One night in particular, he could feel a chill to his bones, waking up with a shudder. He reached over to find some more blanket, but annoyed to find they were out of his grasp. Turning over, he saw that Amelia had wrapped herself up tight in their comforter, leaving him with a measly sheet to cover himself.

This wouldn’t do. At 2 am he found himself tapping Amelia on the shoulder, hoping to wake her. He eventually needed to resort to shaking her as she could sleep as well as the dead.

“What is it?” she groaned, pulling the comforter closer.

“Wake up,” Owen replied sweetly.

“It’s not morning yet, Mom. Just five more hours, okay?” Amelia contented to drifting back to sleep.

“Amelia. Please wake up.”

Amelia smirked as she rolled toward him, getting the idea that Owen had woken up rather frisky. “Okay, we’ll do it, but it’s not my fault if I fall asleep.”
Just as she rolled, Owen grabbed a hold of the comforter and pulled, rolling Amelia right off of the bed, leaving him with sole possession.

“Ow!” she exclaimed, rubbing her head and kneeling by the couch. “What the hell was that?”

“You stole all of the covers,” he accused. “I thought you were different. I didn’t think you were such a blanket hog.”

“I’m not.”

“You were wrapped up in that comforter pretty tight.”

“Because it’s freezing in here. And you’re one to talk. Every night we go to sleep with equal amount of comforter and every night I wake up without my half, because you my dear are the blanket hog,” she said as she climbed back into bed, parts of her beginning to shiver.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you,” Owen mumbled as he wrapped himself tightly beginning to feel warmth creep back into his body.

“Ugh you’re such a child!” Amelia exclaimed, attempting to find a way into the comforter.

“What do you think you’re doing? I’m trying to sleep.” Owen asked animatedly as Amelia continued to prod.

“Let me in,” she said tugging on it harder and harder.

“Well since you asked so nicely. No.”

“Come on, please,” she pouted. “I know a good way we can warm each other up.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, opening his arms for Amelia to crawl into them and under the comforter with him. “Do tell.”

“Cuddling,” she said as she laid her head on his chest, placing her cold hands on his bare skin under his shirt.

“Just what I had in mind,” he said, only slightly disappointed that he wasn’t going to get lucky that night.

Which One Cuts the Other’s Hair

“Hold still,” Amelia turned his head with a pair of very sharp scissors in her hand.

“You know, I’d like to see some references before I let you do anything to my head,” he argued, turning his head just so Amelia could turn it back again.

“You are such a baby. I am a world renowned neurosurgeon. I think that more than qualifies me to cut your hair.”

“You pretty much scalp your patients before you operate on them,” Owen pointed out matter-of-factly.

“Oh come on, Derek let me cut his hair all the time.”

“Was he conscious?” Owen asked, knowing full well Derek would never do such a thing.

“That’s besides the point,” Amelia rebutted, firmly positioning his head. “Hold still.”

“You know what, I changed my mind.”

“What?” she asked incredulously.

“I don’t need a hair cut,” Owen said nervously, vacating the seat, leaving Amelia with the scissors in her hand.

“Don’t you trust me?” she asked, a hurt look on her face.

“Of course I do,” Owen placated, taking the scissors and safely putting them on the side table. He took her into his arms and gave her a short kiss.

“Then let me cut your hair. Trust me, I am good. How do you think I paid my way through Harvard?”

“Okay,” he said reluctantly. It’s just hair, it can grow back.

“Yay! The doctor is about to operate,” she deepened her voice as she took up the scissors once more.

“Oh God,” Owen groaned, barely audible.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Oh yay I’m so excited,” he responded through gritted teeth.

As she made the first snip, he winced and slammed his eyes shut.

“Baby,” she mumbled.

“Is it so bad that I like my hair?” he called out.

“I call it an unhealthy obsession, but whatever. Tomato to-ma-toe.”

“You sure you don’t want to just scalp me?” he joked.

“Shut up while I work on my masterpiece.”

Less than two minutes later, Amelia exclaimed she was finished with a triumphant, “Ta da,” as she held up the mirror for Owen.

“Wow,” Owen said, genuinely shocked that his hair didn’t look horrible, just a slightly shorter version of what he had.

“What do you think? Do you like it?” Amelia asked sheepishly.

“It looks great. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Don’t ever doubt me again,” she warned as she placed herself in his arms, her hands massaging his neck.

“I won’t.”

“You know what I’m going to miss about your long hair?”

“What’s that?”

“Being able to run my fingers through it. I loved doing that,” she sighed as she began to rub the hair on the back of his neck, making them stand on end.

“Hair always grows back,” he said and captured her lips.

Which One Makes Coffee for the Other Every Morning

The smell of hazelnut drifted into the bedroom and invaded Amelia’s nostrils as she slept. She had had a long night, coming in around 4 am after a long and complicated surgery. He had been surprised that she had come home at all, usually she would just sleep at the hospital, but it had soon become a routine of hers to either return to their apartment or find him at the hospital and snuggle into him in the bed as a way to decompress from the stressful day.

He had begun to do the same thing. For them, just sleeping in each other’s arms and being with each other allowed them to de-stress from everything and savor the good things in life.

Whether they were at their apartment or the hospital, without a doubt, there was always fresh coffee waiting for her. And if Owen couldn’t be there, there was always a note of some kind.

She was sure he didn’t know this, but she kept every single one of his little post-it notes that he would leave her. It wasn’t just morning coffee either; he’d leave them for her in the bathroom for when she got out of the shower or on the refrigerator door reminding her to eat something. Or on the bed at night, assuring her that he’d be home soon. She never quite knew how he found the time to leave these little messages for her, but this had become a thing of theirs and only theirs.

Trudging out into the kitchen she found her favorite mug, filled to the brim with her favorite flavor of coffee. The mug had a graphic of a human brain with the word “Brainz” spelled out across the graphic. Owen had made it up for her. Below the mug was another sticky note.

‘Good morning. Hope you slept well. Enjoy your coffee. I love you.’

So simple and understated, yet it made her feel so special. She took the note and placed it into the small photo album where she had begun to stash every single one of his sticky notes. She had already filled three small albums, and she knew she’d fill plenty more.

Which One is Ticklish

Owen and Amelia had taken vacation time off of work and stowed away to northern California. Just for the weekend, but they found it was exactly what they needed to rejuvenate. They had both been stressed with work and had begun to resent each other in some ways because they found themselves constantly working with no time for their budding relationship.

So they decided they needed to take some time to remind themselves why they fell in love in the first place.

They planned a whole weekend getaway with sight seeing and other fun things to do once they arrived in California, but they found that as soon as they were in their hotel room they had no intentions of leaving.

There were no words needed in order for them to reconnect. They spent the entire weekend in bed, calling up for room service and watching crappy TV.

“What is this show?” Owen asked her as they laid in bed sharing a banana split.

“Like I have any idea,” she answered, taking a bite of ice cream before putting the spoon down and lying on her back, taking a deep breath, sneaking glances at his half naked body lying next to her.

Owen finished and before she knew it, he launched a full on tickle attack against her, trying desperately to poke her in the sides. However, Amelia barely moved in response.

“What?” he asked, sitting up, wondering why Amelia wasn’t cowering away from his ticklish fingers.

“I’m not ticklish,” she answered with a chuckle.

“Not at all?” he asked.

“No. Even when I was a kid. I have never been ticklish.”

“But— ”

“But what? Are you upset that I’m not ticklish,” she asked him as she pounced on him from behind, wrapping her arms around the front of his bare chest.

“Well it’s just weird. Like, you have to be ticklish somewhere,” he said grabbing a hold of her and flipping her back down on the mattress, attempting to find a spot where she was ticklish. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” she answered, “but I know where your tickle spot is,” she said as she reached up and Owen jumped back out of her reach.

“No!” he exclaimed, jumping off of the bed as she sat up and tried to go after him. “Amelia, don’t you dare!”

“I’m gonna get you,” she wiggled her fingers at him and Owen let out a small yelp as he began to run around the room, dodging her moves left and right as he tried to escape. “Come on it’s only fair. You were tickling me.”

“Yes, but you’re not ticklish apparently,” he said as she finally cornered him in a part of the room and she began to advance on him.

“Don’t,” he threatened seriously as she leaned in on him and pulled his head down. She put her mouth on that pressure point on his neck, the one that made him so ticklish he would let out almost girly squeals, but she knew it was exactly the right way to turn him on.

“Oh that tickles,” he laughed as she continued to suck on the spot and blow on it, making him shiver at the same time. She then reached her hands to his sides and began to tickle him there as well. With all of Owen’s thrashing, he leaned back and slammed his head against the wall. “Ow!”

“Oh no,” she laughed at him, reaching up to feel his head.

“Are you laughing at my misery?” he asked jokingly.

“Let me see,” she said turning to look at the back of his head.

“Do I need a CT?” he asked, not at all serious.

“You’re clear,” she answered.

“Now it’s time for some payback,” he scowled at her, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.

“Owen? Owen, what are you doing?” she laughed.

He threw her down onto the mattress and followed her, hovering over her, closer to her face. “I’m going to find your tickle spot,” he said as he kissed his way down her face, to her neck and the rest of the way down her body in exploration. He did more than find her tickle spot.

Which one proposes

She had been gone for over a week at a conference in Tampa. He had missed her dearly, although work kept him pretty busy. As well as the surprise he had been meticulously planning for weeks. Everything was ready to be executed. April was filling in for him at the hospital so he went home to begin making Amelia’s favorite meal. He had practiced several times over the past week to make shrimp scampi and he finally had it nailed down. Each batch he made he passed off to his coworkers, at least the batches that were edible.

He hurried around the kitchen, furiously finishing the salad, as she was due to arrive shortly.

He heard the door open and the distinct sounds of luggage dropping onto the floor and an exasperated Amelia shouting to him. “Owen?”

“In the kitchen, babe,” he answered her as he put the apron back on its hook. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I’ve been sitting for the last seven hours. You wouldn’t think a flight from Tampa to Seattle would take so long, but there were mechanical issues. And babies crying. Ugh,” she groaned. “I just want to be up and moving right now. I might go out for a run.”

“No! You can’t,” he shouted as he stood in front of her.

“Why not?” she looked at him like he was a crazy person.

“It’s supposed to storm. I wouldn’t want you to get caught in the storm,” he made up, visibly gulping.

“I checked the weather. It’s clear,” she said, running into the bedroom. “I’m gonna change and go I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

He followed her, not realizing how difficult she was going to make this for him.
“You must be exhausted and hungry. Come eat some dinner. I made your favorite.”

“I ate on the plane,” she said as she tied her running shoes. “You go ahead.”

“Shrimp scampi,” he tried to entice her.

“I’m not hungry. I’ll be back,” she said as she kissed his cheek.

“Why do you have to make everything so damn difficult?” he asked, his nerves getting the best of him and he raised his voice. His back turned to her, she had no clue what was going on.

“Owen, are you okay? What’s going on?” she asked him, slightly worried. “Did something happen at work?”

“No,” he laughed. “I just thought since we haven’t seen each other in a whole week that maybe we could share a meal together. I’ve been cooking for hours it seems just to make your favorite meal.”

“You sound like a girl,” she laughed before she saw his frown. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Let’s eat.”

She let him lead her to the table as he went into the kitchen and brought out their plates. When he returned, he turned on some music and they began to eat in silence.

She really wasn’t hungry, especially having eaten some questionable airplane food so she ate a couple of bites of the shrimp scampi, which she did have to admit was delectable, before she just pushed the food around her plate while Owen finished.

“Thank you for making me dinner. It was really sweet,” she stood and began to gather the plates to take them into the kitchen. Not usually her style, she wasn’t one to do the dishes, but after Owen’s outburst she figured she’d contribute.

“What are you doing?” he asked, grabbing her elbow.

“Cleaning up what does it look like?” she asked, turning back to the kitchen, beginning to wash the dishes.

“Amelia, come back in here please,” he called. “Leave the dishes.” He blew out the candle on the table and as she came back in, he took this as his one and only opportunity. “The candle went out. There’s a lighter in that drawer behind you.”

She opened the drawer and stopped as she saw what was in the drawer. “Owen?”

He stood up and went to kneel beside her, waiting for her to pull the ring out of the drawer.

She turned to him with tears glistening in her eyes.

“Amelia, I love you. I can’t imagine my life without you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you’ll let me. Will you marry me?” he asked her.

She didn’t anything, she just nodded as she kneeled in front of him and pulled him into her.

He slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her, rejoicing in the fact that this was going to be it for the rest of his life. Just him and her.

“I’m sorry I ruined your plan,” she whimpered out as she buried her head in his shoulder.

“You didn’t ruin a thing. It was perfect.”

Comfort Zone

Originally posted by sam-and-dean-winchesters

Summary: Casual sex was never a strong suit of yours, so you really should have expected you’d get caught on your own feelings for a particular man with a killer smile who just so happened to live upstairs.

Notes: italics are the reader’s thoughts. This fic is based off of the song ‘sex’ by EDEN.

Song: sex by EDEN

Word Count: 1.3k+

Warnings: implied smut (nothing graphic because this is me), maybe a lil bit of cussing, Sam Winchester is a life ruiner.



“I haven’t even met my new neighbor and I already hate her,” you announced as you took a seat, handing a mug of your special homemade hot chocolate to your best friend and taking a sip of your own. “She was blasting music until 11 at night and I heard really loud footsteps up until then. It was obnoxious and I swear I came close to marching up there and telling her to cut it out.”

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