i dont know what this is i'm sorry

Mass Effect Ink Series [4/?]

Systems Check and Calibrations

  • me: fuck im so ANGRY!! why does everyone have to PISS me off i dont DESERVE THIS
  • me two minutes later: -through wads of tissues- o-oh my god i'm sorry i dont know what came over me -sobs- im sorry i didn't mean to get so angry im SORRY
  • me another two minutes later: -skateboards in- whats up my guys i brought goldfish and hot dogs. let's watch clickbait

@ghost-wants-murder congrats on gettin old ilu


  • You: goro akechi is a terrible irredeemable character and you're horrible for liking him!
  • Me, an intellectual: Goro Akechi is an incredibly complex character who has had to put up with a lifetime of abuse and made some extremely bad, reckless decisions in his life that I doubt anyone approves of. He has an obsession with praise and acknowledgement that lead him to working with Shidou and ended up getting himself trapped there for two and a half years. There is evidence to suggest that he was heavily mentally ill and regretted his actions, especially after he found out that he could steal hearts instead of killing people. He did not have someone to guide him like the Thieves had Morgana. Yes, he is a perpetrator and I am not denying that, but he is also a victim as well who was blinded by his own selfishness, and was played by every side (Shidou, the Thieves, and Yaldabaoth all used him as a pawn) and, after some coercion, near-willingly payed the price. He's a warning, an example of what the Thieves could have been and he is my favorite character due to the complexity of his character and role in the plot, flaws and all.
  • You: ...
  • You: i can't read suddenly i dont know

anonymous asked:

So I have this friend who insists on doing "pre-reading" before he starts Discworld, despite pretty much everyone's suggestions otherwise. He's already chewed through most of Conan the Barbarian and Fritz Leiber's Swords books, and plans to spend the rest of the year on Lovecraft and Pern. Anything else that's a really big source of Sir Terry's lampoons?

oh gosh this is a huge question. I honestly feel like just discovering all the references and homages in the series would take a lifetime, but off the top of my head some of the more major ones for specific books were: Phantom of the Opera (Maskerade is more or less a direct parody), the Book of War (for Interesting Times, in which the disc equivalent of it is referenced), Les Misérables (for Night Watch, if there is one I could insist on it’s this one), Macbeth (and tbh most of Shakespeare’s classic plays, for Wyrd Sisters), maybe some Anne Rice (for Carpe Jugulum)…

I’d also suggest that before every book pertaining to some specific aspect of our society, your friend just spends a fun evening on wikipedia reading up or refreshing his memory on stuff like Egyptian gods (for Pyramids) and Greek mythology, and the major Greek and Chinese philosophers (for Small Gods, Thief of Time and some others), the history of old hollywood - its major actors and first movies, rock music, classic fairytales, the invention of printing, the functionning of post, trains, etc.

@thebibliosphere, @fireflysummers would you guys happen to have more recommendations?

A Grave Predicament

@mamin-the-troll’s art of smol fox Newt fucking slayed me. It also made me think of Percy in a similar predicament only he has black lynx/wampus ears and tails. So this is for her! *blushes and dies*

First ever Gramander fic and I have no idea what I’m doing so… *dumps unbeta’d fic here and scurries back into her hole*

Tags: Possessive Percival, Fluff, Crack, Mentions of erections.

“Mr. Scamander. Please kindly take your jaw off the floor.” Graves is immediately annoyed when his newly acquired ears flatten in displeasure at the sight of Newt looking so shocked. His tail flicking in agitation doesn’t help much either. He hates it, how transparent these appendages make him, no matter how temporary they are. He can’t stop them from twitching and every barely there noise catches his attention, causing his work productivity to cease altogether.

He’s been turned into a fucking wampus. Or at least, partially so.  

He’s taken to hiding in his office, and growling at anyone who attempts to take a peek at his altered state, but no amount of glaring and growling would deter Newt who practically rushes into his office the moment he has word of Graves’ predicament.

“Mr Graves. W..what happened?” Newt asks, stepping closer, his blue eyes bright with curiosity and more than a touch of concern.

“There was an confiscated artefact that wasn’t properly purged of hexes. Needless to say the person responsible for such incompetence has been properly reprimanded.” It’s really hard to think straight, because he’s just suddenly so aware of how good Newt smells. He smells like so many creatures, of rain and freshly dug up dirt and the underlying hint of honey milk tea.

“Ah. Do you know how long it’ll be?” Newt’s staring at his ears, mesmerized. He’s noting every twitch with the same intensity that a cat would a mouse.

It’s the longest Newt’s ever been able to look at someone’s face, Graves notes. “Not soon enough,” he says with an annoyed huff. He’s trying so hard not to lean into Newt, to rub his face all over and leave his mark to stave off anyone else that might have unsavoury intentions towards his intended mate.

His tail flicks again, angry about the animalistic thought that sneaks up on him. Intended mate? Honestly…

“M…may I?” Newt asks, fingers already reaching upwards with barely contained excitement.

“I’m not one of your creatures, Mr. Scamander.” But he acquiesces, surprised when Newt doesn’t immediately reach for his ears but instead, places his hands on Graves’ face.

He’s been trying to show his intentions towards Newt for months now. Months. Every attempt so far has been foiled by nothing more than Newt’s own obliviousness. The man wouldn’t know a request of courtship if it came to him in the form of a howler and smacked him on the nose.

“I wonder what else has changed,” Newt murmurs, fingers running along Graves’ jaw with a gentleness usually only afforded to his beloved beasts. Newt even runs a thumb along his lips, pressing against them just enough to reveal abnormally long canines. “Oh that’s lovely,” he croons.

Graves shivers at the slow drag against faint stubble as those fingers travel upwards and over the area where Graves’ human ears once were. “The typical wampus colours haven’t transferred over. You’d be considered very rare,” he murmurs “In the wild I mean. If you were a black wampus.”

“Enough to end up in the black market?” Graves muses. He’s not prepared for when Newt actually touches his ears because Sweet Mary Lewis. ‘How does it feel this good?’ His knees are practically melting away under him and he has to resort to placing his hands on Newt’s trim hips to steady himself; claws digging into the blue woolen fabric.

“Most undoubtedly so.” Newt doesn’t seem to mind the touch, he probably doesn’t even realise. Too enamoured with the velveteen ears. He’s playing with the edges, thumb rubbing full circles at the base. “Don’t worry. I’d rescue you.”

“Much Appreciated.” Graves is actually… enjoying himself too much now, the thrumming of arousal low in his veins. He has to chide himself, he’s nearly 40 damnit, he can control himself. But then Newt presses down on a sweet spot and he feels as if he’s fifteen again, having just discovered that his penis does in fact, have more purposes than just for urination.

To his utter horror, a soft, deep rumble erupts from his chest and he groans. He’s purring, actually purring. Could this get any worse? The erection that’s threatening to rise within his pants tells him that yes, it very well can.

“Newt…” Graves says, voice hoarse as he brings his hands up to rest on Newt’s shoulders. It never ceases to amaze him, how all consuming his affections towards the magizoologist is. He wants to kiss him, to count and cherish every freckle, to covet his attention and to offer him everything.

“Hmn? Is there something wrong?” Newt asks, so endearingly, infuriatingly oblivious that Graves can’t help but be both exasperated and fond.

When Graves leans in, it’s with the intention to kiss Newt, but the wampus instinct within him makes him do something else. It doesn’t even make sense to him, but it feels right somehow. He licks Newt near the corner of his lips, and when he draws back, the soft sheen of saliva makes his chest rumble in pride.

Silence feels the room as Newt flushes a bright plum red that spreads across his cheeks and downwards. Graves is torn between wondering how deep that blush goes, and instant concern because maybe he’s gone too far? Maybe this has been one sided all along and his advances have been unwanted? Maybe he’s just ruined one of the first friendships that he’s had in forever, but then Newt’s mouth gapes open and shut a couple of times before he buries his face in his hands with a small sound.

“Mr. Graves? W..would you please kindly… close your eyes?” he asks, voice muffled by his own hands.

Graves is concerned, but he does as asked. His hands are still on Newt’s shoulders, and he can feel the slight tremors. Is… Is Newt afraid of him?   

“Are they closed?”

“Yes.” Graves replies, and then, after a moment, says “Mr. Scamander. I apolog-” but there’s a soft wetness at the corner of his lips and his brain short circuits because Newt just licked him back! He just responded to his request of courtship with acceptance and not only did he say yes, but he did so in a way that his the wampus within Graves leaping in joy. Sweet Mary Lewis is this what complete and utter happiness feels like? It feels like he’s soaring.

Before he can say anything else, or even open his eyes; Newt lets out an embarrassed, strangled noise and gives him a kiss on the lips. Then, he makes a hasty excuse about needing to meet the Goldstein sisters and apparates out of the Graves’ office, MACUSA rules be damned.

Graves is happy, blissfully so. He can’t stop his tail from lazily swishing back and forth. He knows that courting someone like Newt would be a slow process but would taste all the more sweeter for it. Perhaps this curse isn’t so bad after all, he’s determined to use it to his full advantage for as long as he’s able to.

He’s going to ask Newt out, on a proper date, but first, he needs to have a plan.

i have a serious question about transphobia as it permits to my sexuality:

i’ve come to identify as a lesbian, right? ok. ok. am i problematic or transphobic if i’m penis repulsed, when it comes to transwomen who don’t want or cannot have bottom surgery? like, what i mean is i would never have a problem being with a trans woman, but when it comes to that part of things idk! i don’t know how to word this right. i hope that my point is getting across as inoffensively and genuinely curiously as possible, i just don’t know tbh! i’m always too afraid to ask but i dont know if i’m being scummy for feeling that way…

Vampire AU

For the wonderful @kittyboo8015

Kitty, @gouguruheddo and I figured you deserved as many vamps as you could handle :)  Thank you, a hundred times over, for being such a sweetheart.  You’re always so wonderful to chat with.  Keep being amazing, babe <3 We’ll come kidnap you someday. 

[Are you seeing this gorgeous art?? I’m dying.]

[~4.3k Victorian Era Vampire AU, NSFW, angst mixed with gentle loving, as the Eruri’s should be, some blood and injury]

**Arthur Randall is from Kuroshitsuji, shoutout to that AU I crave, and Auguste Dupin was Edgar Allen Poe’s Sherlock before Sherlock. Poor Nile.

[high enough, bloodsport


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First-Date BAIT! Drabble

Read the original: First-Date BAIT!
Read more at Service Series

Words: 1.6k
Genre: Smut
Warning: Begging, a bit of dirty talk, swearing, light bondage, choking, heaven have mercy on my soul. 
I figured…since I talked so much about their kinks, mind as well. 

The back of your knee hits the edge of the bed and you fall onto the soft mattress, bouncing for a moment before he’s on you again.

“You like this don’t you?” His hot breath and husky voice fans over the shell of your ear, making you swallow hard and he smirks. Yoongi moves his swollen lips down along your neck, nipping at your skin and only enjoying it more as you squirm underneath him. “You want me to touch you, right?”

“Hurry up.”

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