i felt that we needed this

“We need a continuation of that proposal! More specifically I think it’s really important that we see how Maggie reacts to it. She felt she was worthless like a year ago and now she’s going to get married to the love of her life. Thanks cap!” from @swiftiealex13 and @ts-1989 “Most obvious one: Maggie’s response.” and “can we please get maggie saying yes i feel so deprived” from @detective-icecream and @everythinginasockdrawer “Maggie actually verbally saying yes to the proposal/aftermath stuff.” and “We need to have the rest of the scene!!! Maggie needs to break down in tears and not say yes til she’s kissed Alex until neither one of them can breathe” from @smolersmith

Other proposal fic here: https://queercapwriting.tumblr.com/post/160973112864/prompt-maggie-says-no-from-the-hard-hitting

She swears she’s not hearing her right – her ears have been ringing since blazing through that explosion on her way to the DEO to access better surveillance to guide the NCPD, fire department, and EMTs to more accurate areas of need, quicker.

She swears she’s not hearing right, because it’s been a long day.

Hell, it’s been a long week.

She still can barely tolerate Alex being out of her sight, since she told her not to wait up for her and then almost…

But she held on. She held on.

She held on, and now she was asking Maggie to hold on to her forever, and she wants to – god, does Maggie want to – because she’d be lying if she said she hasn’t been thinking about it, damn how soon it is, damn how fast it is, damn how many U-haul jokes the world will make.

The world doesn’t understand the fire their relationship, their love, has been forged by. 

The world can’t comprehend the way they’ve suffered together, survived together, already.

Suffered together, survived together, and somehow – somehow, and this is the truly incredible part – somehow managed to hold each other up, never spiral each other down. Someone managed to find reasons to celebrate life together, when celebration feels wrong and life feels meaningless.

Because they’ve created right together, and they’ve created meaning, and Alex is nothing if not blunt, and Alex is nothing if not direct.

Alex is nothing if not perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

The way she grabbed her – all that time ago, and no time at all ago – by the forearm in their bar, spinning her back around and kissing her until she couldn’t breathe.

The way she doesn’t ask her to marry her.

The way she tells her.

Tells her, and then begs her.

“Seriously. Marry me. Please?”

Maggie’s already berating herself for her “excuse me?”, but what else could she possibly muster?

What else could she possibly muster when this woman – this woman who’s committed herself to making Maggie feel like she’s enough, when she’s never, ever, ever been nearly enough before; this woman who leaps off buildings and single-handedly destroys genocidal war facilities; this woman who cries so easily but refuses, utterly, to break – what else could she possibly muster when this woman is breathless, and breathtaking, and asking her to marry her?

She doesn’t know what else to muster, so she does the only thing that her body, her brain, can do.

She kisses her.

She kisses her desperate and she kisses her hard, one hand in her hair and the other on her waist, closer, closer, closer, until her body racks with tears, her chest racks with sobs, and Alex murmurs bewildered comfort against her lips but Maggie doesn’t need that, Maggie just needs more, more, more.

More of Alex’s warmth, more of Alex’s lips. 

More of Alex’s hands wrapping her up, more of Alex’s breath moaning slightly into her lungs.

More of Alex’s love, because she loves her, god, god, god, she loves her, she loves her, she loves her.

She’s not exactly sure why, but she knows anyway, trusts Alex anyway – Alex Danvers is in love with her.

And Alex Danvers wants to add a wedding to their lifetime of firsts.

So she kisses her and she sobs and she sways on the spot and she only brings her lips off Alex’s when they have to bring their foreheads together to breathe, breathe, breathe, because the world was starting to spin from lack of oxygen, from overflow of love.

She loves her, she loves her, she loves her.

And they have a lot to talk about.

A lot to interpret and a lot to navigate.

But they’ve held on in tanks and interrogation rooms and abandoned warehouses and bars full of ghosts and fathers full of betrayal and decades full of worthlessness.

They’ve held on, and they’ve found each other’s arms to hold, too.

So when Alex asks, “So you’re saying yes? Cuz that’s… that’s what I’m getting – because of course that’s what Alex asks – Maggie sobs again, again, again, matching Alex’s tears when she tells her yes, yes, yes, yes.


Welcome to the 14th edition of my Recommendation list for Cas!girls.

Check my Masterlist

Hello, fellow Cas trash pals. It’s been a loooong time since I posted a list. January 16th to be exact, my birthday. I moved cities and I’m not around here as much as I used to, but in light of the recent events regarding our baby. I’ve been crying to the slightest provocation since Thursday, so I felt the need to post a new list to raise our spirits a little bit, tho JiBCon already did a lot of that.
This list will be loaded of fluff and sweet love to our angel. I haven’t been reading a lot of fics lately, but I had these on my waiting list to be posted a for a while now, so I hope you enjoy them anyway.

Here we go.

Note: The summary of the fics are in italics. Some of them are written by their authors, and some others are written/modified by me. All the series start on chapter one, except if they have their own masterpage. The text written after this “–” hyphen are just my lame ass comments.
If for any reason you want your username and/or fic to be removed from this list or you wish not to be tagged, just hit me a message and I’ll erase it/untag/stop tagging you, whatever you preffer..

* Users that tumblr didn’t let me tag are marked with an asterisk.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can you do TodoMomo confession? I want her to pick up advice from the girls and do something cute, like a love letter!

               Note: Thanks! I was inspired by some of the official art including this one so I decided to add the girls cooking! I decided to do something other than a letter though. It’s fluffy…Enjoy!!!

In which Yaoyorozu bakes him cookies and leaves him a card.

“You’re sure you don’t want to add seaweed this time?”

“Ugh, Jirou, you never let me live it down after that ONE time I thought we needed seaweed.”

 Jirou crossed her arms, “we were making cheesecake last time, Yaomomo.”

The girls of class A were having an emergency meeting at Yaoyorozu’s house. The creation heroine, after what felt like an eternity according to Ashido, messaged the others to go over to her place in order to ‘discuss something’. The other girls, undoubtedly so, were confused as to why they couldn’t gather in their dorm rooms as usual but Ashido kept insisting that her intuition told her it was definitely about Yaoyorozu’s long time crush. Despite the numerous times the vice-president of the class furiously denied this claim, Ashido felt something was going on between her and a certain classmate.

And was Ashido ever wrong?

Jirou stopped for a second and noticed Tsuyu and Ashido reading the ingredients list beside Yaoyorozu while meticulously trying to identify what exactly the dark-haired girl just added.

“Wait, Yaomomo,” Ashido started, “You’re sure that was cocoa?”

“Of course it was! It was brown!” Yaoyorozu looked slightly irritated, “Could you guys trust me a little more?”

Yaoyorozu frowned when a little bit of the dough spilt out onto the counter. Everyone knew she was the best in the class and one of the smartest students to set foot in UA, but the girl’s horrible sense in cooking was so pathetic she made Jirou’s leftover casserole look like a masterpiece.

“So now that these are almost done,” Yaoyorozu shoved the bowl into the freezer and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a small streak of cooking reminiscence in powder form along the way, “I really want to ask for your opinion….on how to write a love letter…” Her voice was uneasy and she tilted her head up to look for a reaction from the others and was welcomed with thoughtful smiles.

“I think Yaomomo should draw a lot of hearts and write about how much he means to her,” Ashido was the first to blurt out her suggestion. As the acid heroine was putting her hands on her hips, Yaoyorozu fished out a pen and notepad from her pocket and began to furiously note down every single word.

“And I mean pouring your heart out!” Ashido almost cried out her last point and at that, Yaoyorozu’s face reddened but she kept nodding, her pen still moving in a frenzy.

Tsuyu looked over, doing her usual finger-to-chin gesture and commented in a courteous voice, “I agree with Ashido, but I think it would be better to add something more ‘Yaomomo-like’ in the letter. It would really add something special, I think.”

Yaoyorozu tapped the end of the pen against the page a few times, pondering about Tsuyu’s valuable opinion and Jirou turned her head over to her before giving the others a quick glance, “I’d suggest something like song lyrics?”

Uraraka grinned at that, “Ya! I think lyrics are so romantic, that’s perfect!”

“Or even a poem!” Hagakure’s gloves in socks lifted off the air showing her joy, “Yaomomo, didn’t you mention how you used to be president of a poem reading club back in middle school?”

Yaoyorozu leaned back against the counter and looked up from her notepad, “Ya, that sounds like a good idea.” Taking a sip of water, she paused.

“The biggest problem though,” Yaoyorozu put down her mug with a clink. Something else was irking her and her mouth formed a thin line.

“I’m not sure how to give it to him.”


The next morning came as fast as the night receded and Todoroki was sure the box on top of his desk must have been a prank of some sort. Curiosity got the better of him though, and as he approached his seat, he held the quaint white box in his palm and lifted the lid up.

 An intense chocolate aroma drafted out of the box subsequently and he looked around to observe the others as to gain a clue. He cocked a brow.

“Midoriya,” he looked over, pulling the last coat sleeve off of him after dropping the box down, “did you see who put this here?”

His friend walk across the room, “No I didn’t. What’s inside?”

“Cookies,” the boy answered, fixing his collar.

“Ehhhhh?” Midoriya quickly covered his mouth, “A girl must have left it for you, Todoroki!” He scanned the room, “I actually just came to the classroom a little before you did. Maybe we could ask around to see who put it here.” He closed his eyes, doing a signature rambling session by himself for a few seconds, and stopped abruptly, eyeing as the boy beside him moved the box around in a roundabout manner.

“Well?” Midoriya took a step closer to take a look, “is there anything else inside?”

 A card that was snuggled underneath the baked goods peeked through, and Todoroki pulled it out without hesitation and turned it over.

“Well there’s today’s date at the top….and also a poem,” Todoroki skimmed it over, “It’s Shakespearean I think, not sure though, not that fond of that kind of a thing.” He flipped it around, searching for more, “By the looks of it, a girl wrote this. But she didn’t sign it.”

 Todoroki seemed nonplussed and closed the box right before pushing it into his desk, “I guess I’ll deal with this later. I’m not too interested in seeing who left this here. For all I know, it could have been poisoned.”

Unbeknownst to him, Yaoyorozu was watching far from her seat, pondering as to why he didn’t bother to take a bite out of the cookies. Her shoulder slumped, looking defeated, and after taking a deep breath, she continued her Vice-President duties, writing the day’s agenda on the chalkboard.


Throughout the class, the girl would shift her gaze over to the boy sitting next to her to see if anything has changed, but her gift to him still lied unloved inside the dark caverns of his desk. By the end of the day, Yaoyorozu’s solemn expression was branded onto her and it wasn’t until she told the girls about the morning’s incident that she felt a teeny bit better. Her friends waved goodbye after some warm encouragement and they parted ways; Jirou saying how she had to make sure Kaminari mastered English literature by midnight while the others wanted to do some grocery shopping before heading back to their dorm. Yaoyorozu sent them a smile half-heartedly, clutching a strap of her backpack as she did so and trekked peacefully through the streets of their campus alone.

It wasn’t until she felt a tap on her shoulder that she realized someone was behind her.


The girl stopped dead in her tracks as a few cherry blossom petals fell at her feet, and she turned around, trying as hard as she could to summon a bout of courage.

“Todoroki,” she said, faking a smile, “you’re heading back now too?”

“Mm,” was his response and he walked beside her, not once giving her a glance.

The usual silence conquered their path and Yaoyorozu distracted herself by analyzing the beautiful landscape. He, however, had something else planned.

“Thanks for the cookies.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Took me awhile to figure out that it was you,” He continued and he didn’t catch the hitch of her breath that released her from her tension, “I read your writing on the board every single day so I should have known earlier, but who else looped their 2s and crossed their 7s like that on their dates.”

“Did I…not put my name…?” She mumbled to herself, stunned, and gradually recalled her blunder. She paid no heed to Todoroki’s hidden smirk as her face grew warm from affection.

“Next time, I’d suggest to sign it,” he said, and swiftly unzipped his bag to yank her box out, “and also to use less chocolate and more flour.”

He opened the box and the contents surfaced. She gasped at the horror, looking as if she was looking at a crime scene. The cookies became puddles of brown goo and no identifiable shape was present.

“They…melted?” She said in disbelief. All the hard work gone to waste!

 The melancholic ring of her voice goaded Todoroki to pull out the spoon in his bag, and the girl observed as he scooped a spoonful into his mouth.

“Still tastes good though,” he noted appreciatively and began to scoop another. This time, he pushed it in front of Yaoyorozu.

The girl’s jaw dropped at his next words.

“Do you want to try it?” He said, oblivious to the ramifications of what he implied, and the girl took a few steps back in embarrassment.

“What?!” She had to calm herself down, “We would be sharing a …sharing a spoon!”

An indirect kiss? She thought as she covered her flushed face in her hands and detected Todoroki’s apathetic stare.

“Fine,” she finally gave in, eyes looking downwards and took the spoon. She gagged at the taste. Whatever she added was definitely not cocoa. How was the boy in front of her enjoying any of this disgusting sludge?

“Throw it away,” she said, voice lacing with disappointment, “It tastes horrible. I shouldn’t have made anything. I have the worst cooking skills ever.” She tried to snatch it away from his hands, but he turned it away from her.

“I like it,” he stated simply, eyes locking onto hers, and the passion in her eyes betrayed her as he leaned forward, “How does the poem go again?”

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day-” She started shyly but he cut her off. Yaoyorozu’s heart hammered against her ears.

“Right,” he stopped for a bit, examining the tug of her lips, and continued, looking like he was cautiously rolling the next words around on the tip of his tongue before letting it escape.

“Thou art more lovely and more temperate.”

His response lingered for a moment and her eyes twinkled, surprised that he even remembered. Watching as a trail of cherry blossom petals rained down around them, the girl swallowed hard.

“I’ve…I’ve admired you for a long time, Todoroki,” she said, “if you could understand…from what I did…I just wanted to show you how much I appreciated your help. And..and..” This was too nerve wracking and as she stuttered, Todoroki bent down to place the box beside where he was.

“Yaoyorozu,” he let his hand rest on the back of neck, “Don’t be so nervous.” 

He took both of her hands in his.

“Show me some of your favourite poems tomorrow.” He cleared his throat twice, attempting to break the awkwardness. He’s never done this before, but he knew she hasn’t either. It’s only fair for him to share some of her burden, even though there was nothing for her to worry about. 

“Maybe over some coffee and cake down by the bookstore?” 

Yaoyorozu lips widened into a delightful grin and nodded at his proposal. 

“I’d like that,” she answered, feeling engrossed by the new feeling of his touch, “I’d like that a lot, Todoroki.”

anonymous asked:

nobody really wants to hunt you down get over yourself. you're just sad and we like laughing at you LOL

Imagine what you could be accomplishing in your free time if you hadn’t decided to drop by and send us anon hate. 

Like, I’m not even insulted or the least bit threatened by this message. I’m just wondering what caused you to be so pressed and so bitter that you felt the need to waste your time and mine by dropping this in our ask box. You really gotta sort out your priorities, fam. 

An Open Letter

I mentioned this in the previous ask with plutonis, but yeah, I really fell off the map with this blog. There has been a separate art project going on, but nothing I felt the need to link over here. So I just…fell off updating. But when I log in, I’m glad to see y’all still here.

So…on to another topic. I’ve come to notice sometimes that when certain characters become popular, be they cartoons, video games, or anything, one of the popular ways to make those people feel bad for genuinely enjoying something and having fun is by saying that their fave is “the next onceler.”

Now, I feel like we should be over the concept of “cringe interests” as a thing, and how stifling they can be for young artists and just people in general when all they want to do is just have…harmless fun with something. Buuuut more often than not people try and justify themselves by saying they’re totally not like these guys. And I suppose, it’s understandable, but it’s still disheartening to see when it happens. So, personal thoughts.

Keep reading

@musings-on-bucky-barnes left a comment on the latest chapter of Hands of Clay re how Steve must have felt during the “Mom hugs are the best hugs” debacle, so I wrote the (fluffy, fluffy) aftermath.

Set the night of the last chapter of Hands of Clay

Abraham sat back, glancing at his watch. “Steven, when do you want to drive home?”

Steve rubbed his hand over his mouth. “What time… Hell, it’s almost ten.”

“That’s why we got the kids into their PJs before letting them watch that movie.” James pushed his coffee cup away. “You two need any help getting Clint out to the car?”

“Nah.” Steve blinked a few times. “I think I’m getting old, even I’m ready for bed.”

Keep reading


Denise: “I guess the wedding really is subject to gossip still, huh?”

Aubree: “We haven’t had any drama in the family for a while. I’m sure people will stop talking about it eventually. But are you sure everything is ok now? Wesley seemed pretty determined to whisk you away.”

Denise: “I…Aubree, I can’t lie to you. After visiting Wes, I was surprised at how much I still cared about his welfare. He and I had a moment, but nothing happened between us. It was just an…emotional connection. After I’d left, I was torn apart because I didn’t know why I felt the need to try and make him feel better because I don’t owe him anything. After that stunt he pulled at the wedding, though, I feel like he was just hurting and desperately trying to make things better for himself. He’d have used me again, I know that, so I told him I was interested and that he needed to back off. I…I don’t regret my decision, but I do feel bad about it. I don’t want to make him feel worse…”

anonymous asked:

What do you feel about the lack of opening/ending narration? For me it almost felt like we werent supposed to see/no one was supposed to know what happened between those two or is it just an stylistic choice?anyway, I wanted to know what you think about this

There wasn’t much dialogue this chapter on the whole, since by and large they were expressing their feelings through their actions. It was a stylistic choice to demonstrate that words were unnecessary - all this time both of them had been struggling with what on earth they would say when they saw each other again…but actions speak far louder than words. They expressed here what they both needed to know. 

That, and this was an intimate moment for the two of them, one that blocked out the outside world entirely. It would have felt wrong to have a narrator peeping in on them and adding his commentary, like the story trying to intrude on their happiness. Since the story has had a sweeping hand in their tragedy, it probably knows it ought to shut its mouth at this moment.

anonymous asked:

Dude my girlfriend is so beautiful and nice and smart and funny and when she sees me she runs up to hug me and her face lights up after we kiss and I'm just so gay and she is so fucking cute and I felt the need to share that

this is… all i want in life…

Love Is Photography

We live in a constant state of nostalgia as if the present is our past. Yes we ponder the future but the thoughts don’t seem to last. So in love with memories that we become attached. They play in our heads like movies and pictures taken aback. I feel that love itself is photography. Felt in any geography that connects people like constellations. Emotions dance a choreography. We find love through life with a lens seeking the perfect shot. Adjusting it to focus on what is real and what is not. Mere exposure with a special other like adjusted light exposure under cover. Taking action shots when your heart starts to flutter you can hear the stutter of moments being made when holding down the shutter. Digital is positive and immediate. The product of those actions need very little ingredient. Film, however, has negatives; it’s toxic. Dark times like a dark room with chemical serum topic. But even in such circumstances at the end light shines like scripture.
Negatives, feelings develop into a perfectly imperfect picture. And although it is imperfect, you love love because it is yours.

- M.N. McFadden II

borderlinemangle  asked:

my own two cents about the whole 'treatment of maori' anon, im half maori and for a large chunk of my life i felt ashamed of my heritage and never really talked about it. and among maori the idea of a maori individual being academically successful is so ridic that theyre called potatoes, brown on the outside and white on the inside, implying that academic success is reserved for whites. and of course the 'what's the difference between a maori and a park bench?' joke

this is something we really need to change

The women’s tag match last night was mediocre. It didn’t have the intensity it needed and felt more like a filler match, than the culmination of a feud. It should have been a tornado, or no dq tag team match. I was expecting Charlotte to turn on Naomi and Becky but it didn’t happen. Maybe they’ll do it in the future, we’ll see.

I’d like to see Natalya win the SD Women’s title and then have Becky chase her and win it, but the fans want either either Becky or Charlotte to win it, or Naomi to continue holding it. The live crowds aren’t high on Nattie or Carmella, especially the latter who is rumored to be getting a title shot next. Naomi should hold it until Summerslam, where i want Becky to win it in a triple threat against Charlotte and Naomi of course. The current top contenders for the title are Charlotte, who is still owed a title match, Carmella, who has pinned Naomi twice and Nattie, who made Becky tap out last night. We’ll see what happens this Tuesday.

it really bothers me that so many people on this site treat ableism like it’s black and white.

just now i saw a post where op was like “i’m glad that spinners are popular because it normalizes fidgets and decreases stigma” and someone replied like “no!! it’s absolutely TERRIBLE that neurotypicals are using these fidgets because when they get in trouble they make things harder for mentally ill kids!!” and like you guys do realize that? you’re both right? it isn’t a decisive fact that neurotypicals using fidgets is either good or bad, there are both benefits and consequences that need to be taken into consideration.

a few months ago there was a post going around that was like, *neurotypical voice* why are you bouncing your leg, and somebody reblogged it saying that the post was ableist because autistic kids can get overstimulated by leg bouncing. i go to a school for the mentally disabled, and i’ve been in this exact scenario, my classmate wasn’t able to focus because i was bouncing my leg and although i felt bad i told him that i wouldn’t be able to stop for long because i do it subconsciously due to my adhd. he wasn’t being ableist for asking me to stop, and i wasn’t being ableist for saying i couldn’t, we just both had different needs. in the end, our compromise was that i went to work in the computer lab.

you have to understand that there is always more than one side to issues like these, and that we should be striving for understanding and balance over demonization of one side and blind support of the other. this is especially relevant when people on both sides are mentally ill or disabled, because sometimes symptoms will clash and you just need to deal with it.


Emma & Audrey + being compared to canon couples [👀]

Suga Daddy: Part 8

Suga Daddy: 8

Word count: 8.3k

Genre/Warnings: angst, dirty talk, language 

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi tells you about his past but is terrified of how you’ll take it.

This came a little early than expected. Anyway, enjoy and thanks for reading.

Parts: {playlist} one | two | three | four | five | six | seven 

Everything felt like it was playing out and slow-motion and all you were doing was twirling the flowers in your hand. You were nauseated and your mind was racing with every possible scenario. You knew that Yoongi couldn’t have a squeaky clean record. Especially with his attitude and the way he talked to you sometimes. For some reason you still loved him, despite that.

Keep reading