i hope you guys understand this reference

Break-Up Novella.


Here we have the very first part to a very anticipated, very emotional, very long-winded, very angsty-filled break-up story where we see the missus and Harry split and cope in ways that only bring them back to one another, closer than before and deeper in love than ever before. A little novella(?) that I’ve been working my hardest on and spending my free time perfecting just for you guys. 

I cannot thank you enough for being patient with and understanding that it’s been something I want to be 100% happy with. It’s been tough, I’m not going to lie. It’s been hard to find motivation because I’ve not written very many sad stories whilst being on here; I’ve read them! But, not written many, so, I hope this is the start of something new (cue High School Musical reference).

I’m still very iffy over the argument scene. So, bear with uit, haha. It’s the first piece of angst that I’ve written…

But, I’m finally SO happy to be sharing it with you! For the next 5 days, you’re going to be taken on a journey of emotions between the two of them. Enjoy! x

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hello, I don't know if I am the first request but can I ask how the Holy Trio [ Deku / Katsuki / Shouto ] deals with a short girlfriend please ?

Yes, my first request! Thank you for sending it in, I hope it’s okay! ^u^ I also included the guys’ heights for a reference! 

Midoriya Izuku (166cm - 5′5″)

- He’s not short, but he’s not particularly tall, either

- so he understands your struggles!

- he’s actually happy you’re shorter than him, it makes him feel taller!

- i mean he’d love a tall girlfriend as well, but something about the fact that you’re shorter than him makes him really proud (to protect you! even if you don’t need it)

- he likes to wrap his arm around you and rest his chin on the top of your head when you’re cuddling 

- when you can’t reach something, he will always do his best to get it for you!

- but that doesn’t always work, if it’s up really high

- but he’s prepared for this kind of stuff, so Midoriya has a stepping stool thingy at home to use when he can’t reach things in the higher cupboards (that’s what I have ‘cause I’m short haha)

- his mom is also short so the entire house is more or less within your reach. yes feel free to stay over at Izuku’s!!

- if there is no stool, he will try a number of other things to help you: 1) jumping 2) climbing on something else or 3) asking a taller person for help

- usually the third option works best, but he likes helping you himself most of all

Bakugo Katsuki (172cm - 5′7″)

- he’s not super tall either but he’s taller than Izuku which he’s happy about

- is actually a bit insecure about his height - he wishes he were taller

- he doesn’t let those worries show, however! or rather, they sometimes manifest in rude remarks

- because of this, he loves teasing you about your height since you’re shorter

- calls you “pipsqueak” - it’s about as affectionate a nickname as he’s willing to call you (rather, it’s the only one he doesn’t get embarrassed with). But if you dislike it (and tell him) then he won’t use it.

- no one else is allowed to tease you about your height though. Only Bakugo. Even if you don’t mind, he does!

- “what the hell her height is perfectly fine are you trying to start a fight??”

- as long as you don’t mind, some of your classmates will tease you about your height just to rile Bakugo up

- he totally uses you as an arm rest 25/7! It’s not actually more comfortable for him, but he likes touching you, and this is a way for him to be affectionate without making it obvious what a tsundere

- when you ask him to get something for you that you can’t reach, he will be surprisingly compliant (although he may complain a bit)

- he actually really likes it when you ask him for help, and small things like these are easy to do

- if you ask someone else to help you reach something then Bakugo will get really jealous and he will change his mind

- “Kacchan please get this for me?” “Ughh can’t you do it yourself?” “Oh, then Iida can you help m–” “I’LL FUCKING DO IT” “Thank you~” “grumble grumbles”

Todoroki Shouto (176cm - 5′9.5″)

- probably isn’t even aware of the extent of the height difference between you two until you start dating

- he finds it really cute how you have to stand on your toes to kiss him, and how your head rests against his chest when you two hug

- he wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating when you do that, because he is definitely a little flustered

- loves hugging you from behind! Arms around your waist and chin on your shoulder or head

- Todoroki feels safe this way, and less embarrassed because you can’t see how red his face is

- he will hand you whatever you can’t reach without question

- if you’re too proud to accept help directly, he’s also okay with that - he will make you an ice stool on which you can step to reach what you need!

- he did that once in a mall for you when you couldn’t reach a hat, but the workers there were not pleased with having to mop up water later so now you guys don’t do it as much

- he doesn’t mention your height much, but if someone else were to make fun of you for that he will Fight them

- or rather, intimated them, because most people aren’t willing to fight Todoroki

- but he would totally fight for you, especially if you’re sensitive about your height

Thank you again for the request! Midoriya’s is a bit shorter than the others’, hope it’s okay! I love these guys, please send in some more requests! <3 - admin Soleil

About mutsuki’s gender: psychological analysis.

I’m reading a lot about this topic since a couple of mounths, so I want to try to explain my theory about it (even if english, is not my first language and this kind of things are really specific, so please forgive my mistakes).

First of all, I’m pretty sure that Tooru has a terrible mental illness call  Dissociative identity disorder or  multiple personality disorder (MPD). What is this? Long story short, there are at  least two distinct and relatively enduring identities or dissociated personality states, inside the same person. The number of identities varies widely, but in my opinion  inside Tooru we have only two different ones:  Female Tooru and Male Tooru, that alternate their existence inside him/her. We have a strong personality (Fem) and a submissive (Male) one.

A DID symptoms is, for example,  the presence of two or more distinct personality states match with  the inability to recall personal information (expecially by the submissive personality, who is totaly cut off his own mind), beyond what is expected through normal forgetfulness. This could explain why he doesnt remember when she killed his all family or when he killed all during the academy period. This  particular for of lack of memory is  call dissociative amnesia.

These states alternately show in a person’s behavior are  draw it VERY WELL by Ishida, in my opinion. Think when she approchs herself to Aura in order to obtain his help. Or when she approchs  Kaneki in chapter 122. Otherwise, in the firsts chapters, the way he walk and be in touch with the rest of the team. He was goffy, shy, more masculine than the lasts chapters where her moving changes. (In particular in THAT scene with fake Haise. That was a seductress woman)
(Damn it’s really hard to explain with all those he/she in contrast. Sorry.)

People diagnosed with DID often report that they have experienced severe physical and sexual abuse, especially during early to mid-childhood, and as we know, she/he was abuse and rape by his father till the day she ripped him in pieces. And then she forgot the fact. As well as she/he forgot about killing all those cats during the academy.
It’s really sad as a mental desorder, because starts as an escape from a cruel reality.
In this new arc, Female Tooru win over Male Tooru. The causes are many: she felt alone, adbandoned by the only one man that she ever love or at least that shows a gentle behavior. Haise’s really love him, in a familiar way maybe not  a romantic one (even if I’m pretty sure that this poor soul will never have a real romantic sentiment for noboby in the future).  She changes a lot of team after QS, so she has a lack of stabily, that in QS before the Rose Case was the first family he ever had. Torso probably has raped her again, throw this poor baby into the nightmare again.

And she just can’t stand on it anymore, even if she hate to be a woman. She hate to be weak again and she really want to be a man and have Haise’s love bacause she never fell this way with anyone before.

For what concerns Urie,  I think that he is an hetero guy who has a big crush on Mutsuki from the moment he realise that he is a woman. I can’t blame Kuki neither, is brain elaborate that information because of his infatuation. He always try to save Mutsuki, he his really  attached to this companion, no matter if is a she or a he. 
Whatever, that is really sad because Mutsuki will never be what he need..

In the end, the result for me is that if you call Tooru a girl is not a big deal. Because in this moment, she probably is back to that part of life, the darkest one, when she was a woman. A really lonely little girl who deserves better. I cant blame this child, who only need help.

My point is that she doesnt feel like a guy in her BODY, but is a MENTAL state. She want to change her past, not what she is. I refer to her more than a fluid than a trans. BUT OBVIOUSLY IT’S JUST MY OPINION! I dont want to change your mind or make you understand that this is how things really goes. It’s just an intuition.

I feel so bad for her. Or for him that maybe will be never come back, like the best part of Tooru, the one he built himself was too weak for this world.  

The only thing I hope is to see HIM happy again, as he was in the past.

So, this is my analysis. Feel free to tell me what do you think about!
And sorry for all the mistakes I probably made, its like four and half in the morning but I really want to give my contribution ti this discussion! So please be nice and I’ll responde to all your observations!


Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

Request: Can I request a civil war!Bucky oneshot where Reader comes home to Bucky (in his little apartment) to find him and Steve staring at eachother and like Steve points a gun and asks who’s she and then Bucky gets all protective and they both escape the black panther together and fluff (sorry for long request 😂) love your writing!❤️

A/N: Are there any classes for naming your work because I feel like I need some… Anyways, this is basically just the chasing scene from Civil War only it’s described by me. Of course I left some parts out and also there are some parts with the reader that I’ve changed to fit the story but… yeah. I literally watched the scene while writing this, pausing it every few seconds to be as accurate as possible. I realize I could have just come up with something myself but… gotta stay true to Marvel. I don’t know if that bothers some of you but I’m sorry if it does.
It’s messy, probably not easy to understand but if you’ve seen Civil War (which I’m sure you have at this point) you might know what I’m talking about. It’s not very fluffy, sorry about that. It’s hard to mix action and fluff. Hope you’ll like it either way!
ALSO, I keep referring to T'Challa as the ‘guy with the cat suit’ or armor or whatever bc the reader nor Bucky knows who it is and i mean, he wears a scary cat suit okay idk

Words: 3,345

Warning(s): well… fighting, gunfire… that’s it??

Keep reading

When it comes to racism roadrat shippers aren’t as bad r76, pharmercy or meirat but uhh, there is stuff to check.

Don’t dehumanize hog if you’re gonna keep Junkrat the most human party, like I get the Junkenstein AU since is canon or sharkhog since he is considered a beautiful creature or comes in hand with also a merman Junkrat… But stuff in which Hog is a werebeast or is given animal traits when Rat is fully human is rather uncomfortable, like I’m glad be majority the monster AUs has Junkrat be the demon / beast / scarecrow / merman, but that’s because having a skinny white person be a monster don’t have the same weight as a fat MoC and I hope you guys can understand why dehumanizing hog is so bad.

Other thing is treating Hog as a an object, a lot of art where Junkrat appears with his full body and principal piece of the drawing, while Hog is just by some body parts not even his head.

Also then, while rare I admit, but still exist is stuff like having Rat refer to Hog as exotic, or fics written by white people where Hog has to face some form of racism for the sake of drama and have Junkrat be the good white ally… Yeah, it only happens on 1 of 100 fics but is still annoying.

Like I said, RoadRat is not as bad as other ships when it comes to racism but god, if when it happens doesn’t make me mad?

Double Booked

Pairing: ReaderxReid

Gender: Female

Words: 3,125 (sorry)

Warning: None really. Not super romantic tbh. Cursing like one time 

Summary: As per usual, everyone stays at a hotel during a case, but when you try to check in the staff double booked a room so now you have to share a room with Reid. One bed two agents.


It had been a painfully long day. You were working a case in Colorado and the unsub was slipping farther and farther from everyone’s grasps. Everyone was jumping down each other’s throats so Hotch decided to call it a day and have everyone get at least one full night of sleep. Not that everyone would manage to sleep.

The car was painfully quiet as Morgan and Reid got into it and then Hotch stepped in. The three of them were testing each other’s limits all day. For some reason this case was hitting home for everyone, and it didn’t help that this was the teams’ third back to back case. You fought against the urge to sleep the ride to the hotel, which thankfully was short.

You parked at the hotel and everyone slumped out of the cars, grabbed their go-bags and went to the lobby to check in. JJ and Hotch talked to the receptionist in hushed tones for what seemed like an hour. You sighed impatiently and sat down on the cleaner of the two couches in the lobby which still had more than enough questionable stains to make you groan. Rossi looked over to you and followed suit, seemingly falling asleep in a matter of seconds. Reid was already in a corner next to Prentiss, reading a book with a title in a language you couldn’t understand. Morgan was pacing and clearly very tense. You were about to tell him to relax and sit down when he snapped.

“What is the issue?” He nearly yelled, stomping towards the help desk

“I am sorry sir but it appears we only have 5 rooms.” The receptionist said, almost cowering away from Morgan’s’ dominating stance

“There must be a mistake. I have 7 agents. There should’ve been previous accommodations made” You could tell Hotch was trying to remain calm but he was clearly irritated.

“I am sorry sir. I have checked multiple times.” The receptionist nearly pleading with the intimidating agent

“There aren’t any more rooms available?” JJ asked remaining professional

“No I am sorry. I could refer you to one of our branch hotels?”

“Guys come on” Prentiss stood up, clearly over it at this point “It’s not a big deal two of us will just double up. JJ and I have one and two other people will have the other.” She was already grabbing her bag, making it clear she wasn’t asking.

You look around at the three men that had been fighting earlier, understanding they would not be sharing. You made hopeful eyes at Rossi who was now woken up, although you almost thought he was faking his sleep to avoid the situation.

“As much as I would love to (Y/L/N), I’m a few too many years old to be sharing. I need my rest. Alone.”

You sigh, annoyed at the situation and can’t censor yourself from the stating what no one else is “Well since the three of you are clearly not going to work out whatever it is you’ve been fighting about then I’ll have to share with one of you. So you three can make that decision. I haven’t slept in three days so please make it quick” You stated, harsher than you intended but their bickering, your lack of sleep, and the son of a bitch unsub pushed you over the point of politeness tonight.

The three of them exchanged glances, ending up with Hotch and Morgan both starring at Reid, the near obvious choice since Hotch was more near your father’s age than yours and Morgan was your friend but you were closer to Reid than anyone on the team.

He sighed louder than you would have expected and said “fine” shortly.

With that everyone grabbed their bags, their room key cards, and dragged themselves towards their rooms. Luckily yours and Reid’s was on the first floor. You thought he would spout out some statistic about first floor and fires hazards or murders or just general Reid things but he was quiet the whole walk.

He unlocked the room with a swipe of the card and as you walked in first, turning on the lights you sighed at the sight of a single queen bed in the middle of the room.

You waited for Reid to see it too. “You’ve got to be kidding- this can’t be right.” He turned to look at the door number and card number.

“It’s fine Spence. The bed is big enough. I’m tired and feel like death. At this rate we’ll only have like 6 hours of sleep anyways. Just please” You say turning to him, pleading with your eyes for him to just be fine with it. “It’s just one night.”

Without a word he turns around, locks the door and sets his stuff down. Examining the room, clearly displeased with the furniture that looked like it was from last century. You knew he was about to tell you some fact about bedbugs or bodily fluids found in hotel beds so you cut him off

“Okay so I’ll change out here and you can change in the bathroom” you already state grabbing your sleepwear out of your bag, hoping he’ll leave quickly so you can just go to sleep as soon as possible.

“Uh, uh yeah okay” He’s fumbling around more than usual but you’re too tired to analyze it, already fighting your eyes to not close.

He moves to the bathroom and you quickly and haphazardly remove your clothes, pondering for a second whether to take your bra off or not, you decide to anyways, silently thanking yourself for bringing a baggy shirt and sweat pants to wear instead of just a shirt. You immediately jump in the bed when you hear the bathroom door creak open slightly

“Are you dressed?” Spencer asks shyly.

You stifle a laugh at his politeness and reply with a “Yeah, you’re good”

He walks out with a Doctor Who, TARDIS shirt and thin grey sweats. You chuckle at his shirt as you crawl into bed.

“What?” he asks, confused

“Just your shirt. It’s nothing bad. Sorry I’m just delirious.” You sit up in the bed waiting for him to get in it but he just shifts on his feet, next to the bed, looking uncomfortable.

“Look Spence, if you’re that uncomfortable with it, I can sleep on the chair” You say jerking your head towards the sketchy looking chair in the corner.

“No it’s not that it’s just. I don’t know. I’m sorry.” He climbs into the bed, clearly trying his best not to touch you, even though you are a good two feet away from him.

“No worries. Goodnight Spencer” You say, reaching over to turn the lamp off on the nightstand next to you.

You lay down, shifting on the stiff mattress trying to get comfortable, feeling Reid laying completely straight, as close to the edge of the bed as he can get. You decide to let him deal with it and are starting to doze off when he whispers


“Yeah?” You mask your slight irritation at his interruption

“In the lobby earlier…the way I acted when they said I had to sleep- stay with you tonight. It was rude and I apologize. I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.”

You were shocked at his apology. Admittedly, you were slightly wounded at his reaction but you didn’t take it to heart.

“No, no Spencer” you say gently as you turn over to look at him, even though you can’t really make him out in the dark “You didn’t hurt my feelings. I get it, it’s been a long day for everyone. I didn’t take it as an insult but thank you for caring Reid, really” You smile at him, hoping he’ll somehow sense it.

“Oh, okay good” he lets out a sigh of relief and you feel like he smiled too.

“Goodnight (y/n)”

“Goodnight Spencer”


You work up in the middle of the night, of course. You sigh in frustration as you get up at walk to the bathroom to pee. You quickly return to the bed taking note of Reid’s sleeping position; on his side, legs making the figure four. He still had his glasses on which were now crooked on his face and the book he was reading open, faced down next to his stomach. You padded over to him, leaning over him you grab the book, remembering the page he left it open on, even though you knew he would, and put it on the nightstand. You then reach down, gently removing his glasses which causes him to stir slightly, which you have to admit was pretty adorable.

Turning his book light off, you walk back to your side and plop down with your back towards him, feeling your eyes grow heavy again. You were about to drift off when you felt an arm run up the exposed small of your back, making you halt your breathing as the hand reach over your hip to your stomach. A chill went up your spine as you tried to grasp what was going on. Before you could, the arm pulled you towards him, causing your entire body to shift back a good foot and a half to feel the warmth of Spencer’s body against your back.

He turned your head as much as you could to see if he was awake but his eyes were closed and he was mumbling something incoherent.

You turned your head back around and as you did you felt his head rest in the crook of your neck, tightening his grip around your body. You didn’t know what to do. Normally you would love to cuddle with your friends and you did, but this was definitely not platonic cuddling and he was asleep for Christ’s sake. What if he was dreaming of Maeve? That nearly ruined him, you were so scared to lose your best friend when her death shook the team to the core. Loosing Spencer for that time was so hard for the team to cope with. You nearly cried the day he came back to the team.

As you were trying to figure out what to do, you lost track of time, he started mumbling again, this time you heard some words that didn’t make complete sense but then he said your name. You hoped he would’ve said more but he seemed to fall asleep again. You told yourself it was okay. Just harmless cuddling with your friend.  

You couldn’t help taking a moment to feel his body against yours. Surprisingly strong and lean, curving around yours. You felt safe. It felt natural. It felt like home. You shook the thought away and cursed at yourself for allowing the idea to come to your head in the first place.

You slowly felt your body relax against his as your eyelids forced themselves shut. You smiled feeling the warmth of Spencer Reid against you.

Spencer woke up before you at around 5. He always did. Like clockwork. He woke up smelling something appealing and as he forced his eyes open he woke to the sight of the back of your head, your (h/c) sprawled out behind you, and against Reid’s face. As he pulled away he felt his arm wrapped around you and his heart skipped a beat becoming aware of your two bodies pressed together. He wanted to jump out of bed but was scared he would wake you, not wanting you to know he had pulled you towards him last night, wanting to feel the warmth of another person. He couldn’t help but take a second to feel your smooth curves fitting almost perfectly to his body.

He cursed himself for thinking of you in that way. Not that he hadn’t before but you were his best friend. He cherished you, you who helped him when he felt completely broken over Maeve. You who reminded him to call his mother even though you both knew he wouldn’t forget. Who got him presents every chance you got and always things he would talk about even though he thought no one was listening. But you always were. When he would uncontrollably go off on a tangent he would look around to see everyone looking down, making an annoyed face, rolling their eyes but yours was always looking right at him. He never told you, truly, but he loved you. First as a friend but now he questioned his true feelings and he peeled away from your sleeping body.

He turned the lamp on, grabbing his clothes to change into for the day starting the coffee pot even though he was sure it would taste awful. He took the time to look back over at you sleeping. Your mouth hung open slightly, hair tousled and a mess, sprawled out. He smiled at your beauty, even in sleep.

You woke to Spencer gently shaking your shoulder, standing over you already dressed with coffee in hand.

“Hey (Y/N), it’s time to wake up. We have about an hour to get back to the station”

You grumble and roll over. Making Reid laugh. You sigh and practically roll out of bed, grabbing your entire bag and heading to the bathroom. As you get dressed and apply simple makeup you hear Reid turn on the TV in the room to the local news. Mumbling commentary at their anchors, no doubt, complaining about their incorrect statements.

You walk out of the bathroom in your casual work clothes ready for another day, but feeling a whole lot better than yesterday. As you see Reid sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes glued to the TV you recall last night and a sudden blush goes to your cheeks as you hope that he didn’t wake up with his arms around you and that it wouldn’t be awkward. But as he looks up at you and smiles you know it’s still the same Reid as yesterday, still your friend and your partner.

You walk over and sit down next to him on the bed as he hands you a cup of coffee, just how you like it.

“Thanks. So what did they get wrong today?” You ask, sipping your coffee, gesturing towards the local news anchors on TV

He smiles over at you “Where do I even begin”

You two spend the next thirty minutes like that. You drinking the coffee that was far from what coffee should be, but was getting the job done, and Reid pointing out the fallacies of the news reports.

Then he pointed out it was time to head to back to meet the team. You both gathered your bags and headed towards the lobby where you saw JJ and Prentiss face timing Garcia at a table in the corner next to Rossi who too busy enjoying his free centennial breakfast at the table next to them to pay attention. And Hotch and Morgan were surprisingly talking and smiling. As you two walked in you joined the girls at the table as Reid walked over to Hotch and Morgan.

They smiled at you as you walked up

“So did you two have fun last night?” Emily obviously teasing you with a devious grin, causing JJ to giggle

“Wait. What?! Doll, what is Emily referring to?” Garcia asked, clearly offended she was out of the know

You laugh at their games “Nothing Penelope. Me and Reid just had to share a bed last night and-“

“What?!” all three of them simultaneously yell loud enough for the entire team to glance at you

You shyly smile back at them, turning back to face the girls “Shhh” you lean in and they follow, even Garcia gets closer to her screen. “It’s no big deal. Nothing happened. We both knocked out and that was that” you said. Trying to control your facial expressions.

“She’s lying” Emily said pointedly grinning at you and leaning back

“You think?” JJ smiled, playing along

“Wait turn the screen around, let me see her” Garcia said with childlike impatience and excitement

They did as she asked and looked at you through the tablet screen

“Oh yes she’s definitely lying” Garcia said in a playful yet honest tone.

“Oh whatever, you guys. I would obviously tell you if something did but it didn’t okay?” You look at each of them, trying your best to not crack.

“Do we believe her?” Garcia asked

“Hmmm. It is yet to be determined” Prentiss looked at you trying to analyze your every feature

JJ laughed “Come on guys we got to get going. See you soon Garcia.”

“Keep me updated on pretty boy and pretty girls’ love affair” Garcia quipped happily

“Will do Penelope” Prentiss teased, grinning at you

“Goodbye my lovelies” Garcia state before clicking off the screen.

“You guys are absolutely ridiculous” You laughed as they playfully put their arms around you as you walked out to the cars to be joined by the four men. They walked off as Spencer approached you, making obvious eyes and silent kissing noises that made you blushed and mouth curse words at them, which only caused them to laugh and duck behind the car to put their bags in the trunk.

“Hey (y/n) what was that all about?”

“Oh. What?” You asked very nervously

“In the lobby earlier when you all screamed” He slightly laughed, holding your eye contact

“Oh yeah that. Nothing. You know them and Garcia, always messing around” You laugh nervously.

“Oh” he laughed “okay yeah. Here let me get that” he said as he reached down towards you to grab your bag.

You tried to protest “No- Spence. It’s fine really-” but he already grabbed it and was walking towards the trunk.

You felt everyone’s eyes on you and sure enough as you turn around you see the rest of the team, leaning against the other car, opposite you, with shit eating grins, and laughs. Morgan silently cheering. You even saw Hotch crack a smile and slightly shake his head at the way his team was acting.

You laugh with them as Reid walks up next to you

“So are we going now?” he asks looking only at you

“Yeah we’re on our way now” You smile at his obliviousness and at your wonderfully lame team.

I am honestly not too impressed with the Owari no Seraph fandom, unfortunately… :( 

I know this goes for almost every fandom, especially on tumblr, but it’s just so sad to see all these people who are supposedly fans of the same thing hate so much on each other, as well as the creator himself. I feel like I want to say a few things, and it’s okay if you don’t agree with me… Of course, my opinion is not ultimate. But it has been bugging me for a while;  

The shipping wars. 

One of the things that have bugged me the most. People are mad because of “yaoi” hinting, while others are mad because “the author should just say yes or no, don’t give us false hope about a gay pairing.” 

1.) Homosexual main protagonists does not make an anime “yaoi”. Yaoi is referring to… Umm… Very sexual animes… >//< 

A thing that I read was this; “I wanna know if this anime (owari no seraph) is yaoi or not. I have nothing against homosexuals, I just don’t want to see it.” 

Wow… You are going to drop an anime because of a potential homosexual couple. But oh nooo! You have NOTHING against gays as long as you don’t have to “see them”. 

I don’t even think I need to write anything for you guys to understand how that statement just shattered my hopes and dreams for humanity. -_-

2.) You can’t go around being salty about the author not “confirming” a couple to be canon or not. At least not until the story is finished. Stop saying that he is “queerbaiting”. You don’t know. 
If I were to write a manga, I would NEVER spoil a future canon couple even if people asked about it. Let him at least finish his story before you rant about it on tumblr. 

“B-but it doesn’t matter, because the author is sexist as fuck.” 


I got this a while ago when I wrote a post. 
And I got curious. Was this true? Is the anime/manga sexist and I just didn’t notice? So I did what every reasonable person would do. I asked around, and looked into the matter. What did I find? SJW tumblr crap… -_- 

Okay, so maybe not everyone will agree with me on this one, but hear me out! I will argue back at some points people messaged me about, and maybe I will change your opinion on it? That is if you are one of those who blindly believed this, or maybe misunderstood because other ONS blogs were talking about it. 

What I will do is write down some arguments used against me, then reply to them, proving that most of these points are mere… SJW whining. 

- “All the women are in love with the main character. ALL OF THEM!”

Wow. I didn’t know. Guess Shinoa, Mitsuba, Krul, Chess, Horn, Sayuri, Mito, Kimizuki’s sister, every single woman in the show, are all in love with Yuuichirou? How odd. 
No, seriously. The only two shown to have a crush on Yuu are Mitsuba and Shinoa. Also, Shinoa is the only one shown to have a long-lasting crush on Yuu. Well, maybe besides Mika… >.> 
How is gaining a crush on a boy sexist? I don’t get it. If I was in Owari no Seraph, I would have gotten a huge crush on Yuu, and he is not even that appealing as a character, especially compared to Mika (I would die for that guy <3). We have come to the time where having a crush = weakness. ;_; 

- “All the women have low self esteem!” 

No. No, not at all, are you stupid? 
These are 15-16 years old teens, fighting against monsters and vampires! Mitsuba started out harsh, because she is afraid of fucking up so that someone dies. Dies. 
Shinoa is the squad leader and have responsibility for her team. They might die. Did I mention that they might DIE? 
These characters do not have low self esteem because they are nervous about the choices they make in a world where they might get killed. It’s actually the opposite. Mitsuba is upset about being promoted because she didn’t feel like she deserved it. This is not a girl with low self esteem, but a girl who wants to work hard and is not pleased with something she gets without deserving it. 

Now look at Yuu, who is afraid of getting too close to people, fearing he will lose them. 
Or Yoichi, who felt like a cowardly burden to everyone in the first episodes. 
Or can we just talk about Mikaela? A guy who thinks the main character will hate him, and think of him as a monster. Who only sees himself as an ugly vampire (his words, not mine). That is not low self esteem? (Or maybe he is just blind or something. >.> Mika is so hot, I am dying…) 

- “The girls are just standing in the background, while the men chooses everything.”

Well yes. Because… Let me think… The boys are the main characters? *mindblow* Yuu and Mika are the main characters, the others are not as important. That’s just how it is. The two other male characters are also just there in the background. Hence, it’s not sexist. 

Besides… Did you even check what kind of show this is? 
Owari no Seraph is a SHOUNEN. Shounen. You know. Boy. It’s a show focusing on boys! Of course the female characters are not as important! >.> 
Watch a Shoujo anime if you want characters that “little girls can look up to”. Because Owari no Seraph is not for little girls. The little girls were all murdered in the first freaking episode. 

My point is: Stop whining. It’s annoying and is driving people away from the fandom. 
If I have lots of people feeling the need to send me more arguments to “prove” that the author is sexist, I will just update this post here… >.< But please understand that calling people sexist is actually pretty serious, and you should stop, unless you’ve got real proof. 
If I get lots of hate from SJW for posting this, then fine. If I lose all my followers, I’ll just delete the blog and stop drawing ONS art. That’s how easy it is. ^^ 

You are of course allowed to disagree, just please, don’t be rude about it. 
Stop acting like whiny children, and act more mature. Please. 
I know this is tumblr, so… I will probably get hated anyways, haha! x3

Regarding NSFW Fanart..

So I just received nsfw art for Swirly yesterday. It was nicely drawn but I was very uncomfortable as I did not give permission to have my characters drawn NSFW; heck he didn’t even ask me if I was ok with it or not. It was posted on Derpibooru and on his Patreon; but he altered the picture and removed her name to make it look like a generic pony after my request to take it down. To which I am fine with considering how much time he must have spent on that drawing.

Maybe I wasn’t clear here or anything, and I’m not blaming anyone. But for future reference, and I know you guys won’t, I kindly ask that you guys don’t draw my characters NSFW. I have no problems with NSFW itself but these characters are a part of me, so to see them NSFW makes me feel very exposed and uncomfortable.

I think it’s inevitable that there are some that won’t care and still do it. But for the most of you guys following me, I hope you can understand!

Junkrat/Roadhog:: Voyages Ch 1

Buckle up, guys and gals and nonbinary pals, because I’m finally following up Origins with a sequel. If you haven’t read Origins, I really really recommend that you do – this first chapter is kind of a prologue with some refresher details, setting us up for the bulk of this story, but there is defs the occasional reference that kind of requires an understanding of the first fic to fully get it. I know it’s a bit of a slow start, but I hope you’ll stick with it, and thank you so much for reading! (This can also be read on AO3 but I guess Tumblr hides posts if you put links in them so??)

Title: Voyages

Characters: Junkrat, Roadhog

Rating: R

Summary:  After a rocky start and some ups and downs, Junkrat and Roadhog are officially partners, even if things haven’t progressed quite as far as Junkrat would like. With his treasure at the heart of their grandiose plans, they take their adventures overseas and leave their mark on the world, for better or worse. (Mostly for worse. They’re criminals.) Sequel to “Origins.”

Keep reading



original requests can be found here and here

based on SF9 as: Mafia au found here

requests are open!

i had a ton of fun writing this one so i hope you guys enjoy it! mafia aus are one of my favorite things and i decided that all of my sf9 mafia works will take place within the same universe so there will be cross references but you won’t have to read one to understand another unless otherwise stated!

anyways enjoy some soldier!hwiyoung ;) + admin L

    Hwiyoung sat at his desk, surrounded by various cleaning solvents and tools ranging from a worn cloth to toothbrushes. He began his usual routine of field stripping his pistols, removing the magazines and emptying the chambers. The slide catch was the next to go, along with the recoil spring and barrel. Once the pieces were laid out he began rhythmically cleaning them, the familiar motions soothing him. It was something Hwiyoung always did after returning from an assignment and it kept him from thinking about the cries and pleading that echoed in his mind.

    Whenever Youngbin sent him and Rowoon out on assignments, Hwiyoung knew the people deserved what they got, and he knew if given the chance to go back in time, he wouldn’t change a thing because his brothers were his priority. He knew that even letting one person live could lead to a dozen more coming back to attack them and Hwiyoung will be damned if he lets anyone harm his brothers.

    He’d just placed the slide catch back when Youngbin tapped on his door three times before entering. Hwiyoung paused, looking up but not over his shoulder; he didn’t have to look at Youngbin to know he had another assignment ready for him.

Keep reading

Fish Story Upload Announcement

Yes, I took down my post of the Fish Story audio. It just didn’t feel right since I uploaded it before it was even 7 June in Japan. While thinking about Souma’s feelings if this were to ever somehow reach him, I decided to take it down.

However, that does not mean I am no longer sharing the songs with you guys. Please message me if you want the links to the songs and I will send it to you privately. PLEASE DO NOT REDISTRIBUTE THE LINKS TO ANYONE ELSE. If anyone else wants the link, please refer them to me ^^

I’m sorry for having to do this, but I hope you all understand. Thank you so much for taking your time to read through this.

anonymous asked:

Can you pretty please do a list of little headcanons you have with Jollyrogerjones and the family you guys have created? I adore following you all!!!

Okay so I hope my fam doesn’t mind me going wild with the head canons but here we goooo!


- Emma likes to tease him and still references things she knows he won’t understand.
- Emma steals his shirts to wear to bed nearly every night, and every night Killian convinces her to take it off so he can sleep next to her naked.
- While she sleeps in more, she also goes to bed later, staying up reading or worrying until the early hours of the morning.
- Emma watches Killian sleep and won’t apologise for it because she knows he does it to her too.
- They love having an ensuite that locks because when the kids are distracted with the TV early in the mornings, they distract one another from putting clothes on.
- Emma and Killian both think that the other one is the preferred parent with their kids.
- Both are heavily involved with the kids lives because they don’t want to miss a damn thing.


- Charlotte is Emma’s go-to for advice and a chat herself, when Charlotte is an older teen/adult.
- Emma admires everything about Charlotte’s character and is so proud of her beyond words.
- Emma openly cries unashamedly when she first holds Charlotte’s first born child.
- When the twins were born, Emma often mixed them up by accident and had to take a peak in their diapers to check which one was which.
- This led Emma to ban the unisex matching outfits.


- Davey is the reason Emma has grey hair.
- He also makes her laugh the hardest.
- Emma teaches Davey how to pick a lock when he’s only four, which she instantly regrets when he unlocks the bathroom door to get to his parents.
- Emma has only every cast one memory blank spell and it was on Davey because he picked the lock and walked in on his parents.
- Emma wishes she could erase it from her memory too.
- Emma has gotten into several arguments with Davey’s teachers.
- Emma goes to Davey when she doesn’t know how to get Charlotte to talk to her.


- Emma will always have a special place in her heart for her little believer.
- If Emma was to EVER get another tattoo, she’d get Henry’s initials somewhere, so she’d never forget him.
- Emma forces Henry to come over for dinner at least once a week for the rest of his life.
- When he comes out to her, she’s just so damn proud.
- Emma also tries to set him up with all the boys.
- Any boy who tries to date her boy has to go through her and Regina, then Killian, then his grandparents first.
- Then Granny.
- Then Leroy.


- Emma never gets used to her daughter’s full name (thanks for that Killian), but she’s not against using it when the girl needs to be scolded.
- Emma tells her off the least of her kids.
- Emma loves spending time doing her daughter’s hair for school and does it every day until Will asks her to stop sometime in middle school.
- Emma thinks Willa looks the most like her.
- When Will gets mad, Emma knows Killian is better at handling it than she is.
- Emma will lay with her kids well into their teens, just chatting to them as they fall asleep.


- LJ is a little shit.
- LJ gets sent to his uncles house a lot.
- He is also loved, but was a slight after thought.
- He’s exactly like his papa.
- Charming and handsome but god so damn troublemaking.
- Emma knows he’ll be okay.

I’ll Stand by You: An ACOTAR/ACOMAF (Feysand) Fanfic

Oh my goodness. This thing is 15 pages…and I’m about to collapse from exhaustion lol.  This one-shot takes place after my other one-shot called “Fighting Lessons with Rhysand.” While you can totally read this one on its own, there is a minor reference in here that you’d only understand if you’d read the first piece.  This fic focuses on Feyre and Rhys and explores how they might deal with their trauma together as their bond strengthens.  I hope you guys enjoy! xD


There was blood, blood, so much blood. It covered my hands and arms and ran down my face–an impossible amount, but none of it was mine.  If only it had been. But no, the blood wasn’t mine, though it was because of me. My fault, all my fault.  I’d held that ash dagger in my hand, and it was me who had driven it into each of those innocent hearts. The hearts that now no longer beat because of me, because of what I’d done to try save Tamlin, to save his court, to save all the courts of Prythian.  

But in trying to save them, I had damned myself. Their cries and prayers filled my ears as I turned toward the accusing crowd, toward Amarantha on her throne of bones. And there was Tamlin before me on the ground, my dagger in his chest, and he wasn’t moving. I moved to go to him, to reach him and somehow take it back–it was supposed to work, it was supposed to work. Why hadn’t it worked?

I couldn’t reach him, though, because Amarantha was suddenly in front of me, with lethal claws and a bloody smile as she whispered, “You were never worthy of us. You don’t deserve to live, you filthy human scum.”

Someone screamed behind me: my name.  And I knew who it was, knew how it would end.  But I was frozen; I couldn’t stop Rhys as he threw himself at Amarantha with that lethal grace and rage, those shadow claws; as her shields threw him back and she pushed his talons back into his skin one by one, and I was told to kill him–the traitorous filth who consorted with humans. If he wanted to betray his queen, then he should face the shame of being killed by his lowly ally.

I couldn’t, I couldn’t, no, no, please, I wanted to scream. Not Rhys, not him. Not one more soul on my hands.  But my feet forced me forward, against my own will, as I took up that bloody dagger and stood over the once powerful High Lord of the Night Court.  The fae who had helped me keep my sanity Under the Mountain, who loved his court so fiercely that he sacrificed everything, who loved to fly but was stuck beneath a mountain, unable to taste the skies and the stars of his home.

His eyes were not accusing as I walked up to his frozen form, crouched and bleeding and broken on the stained marble floor. Those beautiful, starry eyes did not break my gaze, did not so much as flinch, as I took his chin in my hand against my will. As I heaved for air that would not come, and as bloody tears came and came, and as–finally–too soon, always too soon–I drove that cursed knife into his heart.

And as the ash dagger bit into his skin, I saw my reflection in his eyes, but it wasn’t mine–it was Amarantha’s. We were one and the same, entwined in this guilt and this blood, and his eyes were empty now, the stars gone out, and I opened my mouth to scream–

I fell out of bed in my room at the Night Court, a scream lodged in my throat as I tried to breathe. The walls, the ceiling, they were closing in, and all I could see was that empty violet gaze.  

I shut my eyes and tried to steady my breathing. Slowly, I climbed to my hands and knees, pushing back against the image of closing walls. I crawled to the bathroom and threw up the contents of my stomach.

I sobbed and choked and shook, trying to at least push my long hair back from my face.

But I didn’t need to.  A large, familiar hand scooped the hair back with gentle fingers, holding it for me as another hand rubbed my back in soothing circles.

I knew without looking who it was, because who else could it be?

Rhys stayed silent as I finished emptying my stomach, as the shaking settled into tremors.  When it was over, I wiped my mouth with one of the bathroom napkins and rinsed my mouth out with the cup of water I’d kept on the bathroom counter next to my head. I kept my eyes on the floor.  I couldn’t bring myself to face him, to see that look of disappointment or disgust that was surely on his face at my weakness.

Embarrassment burned in my stomach like a coal, and I wished I could vanish into the shadows like him.

Behind me, Rhys dropped my hair so it rested against my back. His other hand still laid across my shoulder blades, as if reluctant to let go.  

“Was that the first time someone held your hair back for you?” His voice was soft, but that’s all it needed to be; his voice filled up the silence in the bathroom.

The embarrassment caught fire and began searing my chest. I hesitated, and then gave the tiniest of nods, turning my head just enough to peek around at his face.

An emotion that looked very close to rage flickered there, but it was gone as soon as it surfaced. But why would he be angry?

I turned away again, squaring my shoulders as I stumbled to my feet. I took a breath. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Cauldron, I’d have to turn around eventually and face him, but I didn’t want to–didn’t want him to see.

There was a pause, and it seemed to stretch into infinity. “Fine. We don’t have to tonight”–the way he emphasized “tonight” made his real message clear: not tonight, but we would have this conversation eventually–“but on one condition.”

The embarrassment leached away, replaced by wariness. Our deals never tended to work out well for me.

“And that would be?”

“First, face me.”

I gritted my teeth, straightening my spine as the last of the tremors disappeared. Prick. I grudgingly turned around, forcing myself to meet those dark eyes, as starry as ever. I winced a little, remembering my dream.

His gaze was steady, voice even, as he said, “Let me stay with you tonight.”

My eyes widened, and his sensuous lips crooked up on one side in amusement. “My, my, Feyre, such a dirty mind. Although I would enjoy that if you feel so inclined, I just meant to sleep.”

I narrowed my eyes, stifling the blush that was threatening. I wouldn’t rise to his teasing.  “How did you know?” I asked instead.

He raised an eyebrow, dark against his pale skin.  “That I was having a nightmare,” I clarified. “I thought I had my mental walls up.”

“You did,” was his simple answer.

I raised an eyebrow, mirroring him. “Then how…?”

His smirk widened a bit, gaze unflinching. “I just did. No more avoidance now, Feyre darling. Do we have a deal?”

“What’s in it for you?” I blurted, crossing my arms over my chest.  I was in a large sleeping shirt and shorts, so at least he couldn’t see anything.

He crossed his arms as well, chuckling a bit when I scowled and dropped the stance. If I hadn’t known what had happened last time I slapped him, I would have done it now.

“I get to have a good night’s sleep,” he said casually.

I really looked at him then. I must have woken him, I realized, because he was barefoot, and though his pants and shirt were still black, they were definitely sleeping clothes.  His short hair was even ruffled, as if he’d gotten out of bed quickly.  I wondered again how he’d known.  Even though our rooms were connected–to remind any mischievous members of his court that I was under his protection, he told me–I didn’t think I’d made any noise to wake him.  Which meant that somehow, he’d still sensed my dream, my emotions.

I glanced down at the stark black whorls that tattooed my left arm and hand. The tattoo, maybe? Or something else…?

I met those steady eyes again, a mischievous light dancing in them as he waited for my answer.

How much did I not want to have this conversation? Enough. I couldn’t talk about it, at least not yet.  And maybe it would be easier to sleep if…

Cauldron help me, I hope I didn’t regret this.

“Okay,” I breathed.  Rhys’s shoulders relaxed slightly; I hadn’t realized he’d been tense.

“But you stay on your own side,” I said, brushing past him, determined not to look at him.

He followed me, silent as a shadow.  

For a few seconds, I stared down at my side of the bed, at the mussed sheets where I’d torn myself from my perpetual nightmare, from those dead violet eyes.  

I risked a glance up, to the other side of the bed, just see that those eyes were still bright, still watching and not dead.

And froze.  Rhys had taken his shirt off.

I swallowed.  I’d noticed that he was well-muscled before–it was hard not to–but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.  His skin was more tanned now than it had been Under the Mountain, and it stretched taut across the smooth muscles of his chest and stomach, his broad shoulders and trim waist. The lines of him were sharp and clean, his arms corded in muscle that led down to those hands that I knew could turn into shadowy talons.

He was every inch a predator.  And undeniably beautiful.

For the first time in ages, my fingers itched to pick up a paintbrush, to try and paint that feline grace and strength, the tendrils of night that created a dark halo around his head, the black brows over glittering eyes and that strong nose and those sensuous lips that were now positively smirking at me and–

“Like what you see, Feyre?”

Cauldron boil me, I was so dead.

What–” My voice came out as a squeak. I swallowed again, forcing myself to breathe. “No!” I scoffed. “Of course not.”

Suddenly he appeared beside me, a hand on my waist as he leaned in to purr into my ear: “Liar.” His breath tickled my ear, and that damn shiver raced down my spine.  Traitorous nerves. Traitorous spine.

I turned my head to scowl at him, at the amusement dancing in his eyes.  I was not going to squirm.  “And what do you think you’re doing, exactly?”

“Why, getting ready for bed, of course.”

“Without a shirt?” I deadpanned.

“I don’t like sleeping with a shirt on. It gets too hot.” He leaned in a bit, dominating my field of vision. “I could always take off–”

I pointed to his side of the bed. “Don’t. Even. Finish. That. Thought. Pricks sleep on that side.”

Rhys huffed a laugh, grinning cheekily at me before sauntering over to his side of the bed.

What I had I gotten myself into? And when did we start having sides?

“As my lady wishes,” he said good-naturedly, lying down on his side and watching me with lowered lashes.

I glared at him for another second–to make myself feel better, at least–and then climbed under the covers, smacking his arm lightly before hiding my hands beneath the blankets.

He snickered.

“I am not your lady,” I replied resolutely.

“That’s true.”

I blinked. He grinned a little again, and my stomach swooped at the sight of him like that, stretched out on top of the covers with that smile that lit up his eyes. The way his glorious chest expanded with each breath and–

His grin slowly widened.

I snapped out of my line of thoughts, berating myself as I raised an eyebrow, both a silent question and a challenge.

Rhys merely propped his head on his hand, elbow sinking into his pillow–this is not his pillow, some part of me yelled–as he said, “You’re right.”

I knew I really shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help myself.  “I’m…right?” I asked, drawing out the last word in confusion.

He leaned in again. “A lady wouldn’t have such thoughts,” he whispered. “Like right now, for instance. You know, if you want to touch my hair–”

I smacked his arm again. His grin became decidedly feline and wicked as my face turned red and I hurriedly threw up my mental wall, which had slipped earlier.

He laughed softly and moved closer again, so our faces were almost touching. “Don’t feel bad. I rather like your thoughts.  They’re absolutely delicious…just like you.”

I threw my extra pillow at his head, taking the moment to roll away so I could hide my face.  But it was too late, I knew, because he’d already seen.

Prick, prick, prick. Bastard, I threw at him through our mental bridge.  He just laughed, and then I felt him hovering near me. “Don’t be embarrassed, Feyre darling,” he said, his voice quiet near my ear.  “What if I said I had similar thoughts about you?”

“Go to sleep, Rhys,” I said in exasperation, even as my traitorous stomach swooped at his words.

He chuckled, and I felt him start to draw away, but he paused. As if he were hesitating.  

I lifted my head from my pillow and craned my neck to look at him, rolling over slightly to make it easier.

He was still hovering above me, and I couldn’t describe the look in his eyes, but something about them seemed…different. They were brighter, somehow, as they watched me, and his expression was softer than I’d ever seen it. The teasing and laughter in his eyes were gone, replaced by something that I almost wanted to call wonder.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as he reached down and gently took my chin in his fingers.  They were warm against my chin, and if I’d wanted to, I could have pulled away. But I didn’t, even as he leaned down and those brilliant, starry eyes were all I could see.

He paused, so close I could count those thick, dark lashes. Then the distance evaporated away as he brushed his lips against my cheek, the lightest butterfly kiss, and whispered against my skin, “Good night, Feyre.”

He began to withdraw, his fingers falling away, and my traitorous body couldn’t help it.  Heart pounding a heavy bass in my chest, I reached out and touched his cheek with my left hand.  The tattoo’s ink gleamed darkly between us, its harsh beauty stark against our skin.  The black ink on my fingers somehow looked right against his face; it picked up the night-darkness of his hair.

Rhys stilled beneath my fingers, watching me with those now-dark eyes.  I felt my stomach squirm a little, even as my mouth quirked up at the corner.  I spoke the words quietly between us–“Good night, Rhys”–and then I forced my hand to move away, to fall to my side as I lowered myself back down to sleep.

Even so, I caught the small, genuine smile on his lips, that spark in his eye.  But then I forced myself to look away, to put my back to him as I curled on my side to sleep.  I felt Rhys settle as well a few seconds later, but I didn’t notice much more as my thoughts drifted off into sleep.


When I woke a few hours later, in the middle of the night, it was to find Rhys curled around me, his chest to my back and his hips hugging mine. His arms were wrapped around my waist, with one hand lightly holding mine in sleep.  Behind me, his larger body was warm and as steady as a lullaby, the regular rhythm of his breathing somehow comforting.

Maybe it was my sleepiness, but I couldn’t help settling back into him, snuggling into the cocoon of warmth and breathing in that scent that was becoming all too familiar: night skies, mountain air, and a wafting swirl of stars and freedom.  

His arms tightened around me, hugging me closer to his bare chest.

You’re awake, his voice whispered in my mind.  Could mind voices sound sleepy?  Apparently so, because his was husky in my head, wisps of dreams floating off each word to trail away in my head like mist.

Barely. I paused, and couldn’t resist. You’re not on your side, I pointed out.  

I knew he was awake enough to smile because I felt him do it against my hair. On the contrary, love, you rolled over to my side.

Startled, I opened my eyes again, and realized he was right. We were in the middle of the king-sized bed.  I must have reached for him while I was sleeping, which was strange in itself since I had stopped reaching out in my sleep months ago, when those nightmares had reached their peak and I’d begun using my arms to hold myself together while Tamlin slept on beside me.

There was a pause, extended this time, and I wondered if Rhys had fallen back asleep.  

When his next trail of thoughts came to me, he sounded so tired that I wondered when he’d last truly slept. How long had he been reliving my nightmares because I hadn’t had a shield to spare him from my dreams?

I didn’t want you…to be alone, his mind whispered to mine.  You were with him, but you were…always alone…no one should ever be alone…

Tamlin. Rhys’s words rang in my mind, the truth of them cracking the shell I’d always built up while I was awake, unleashing the black ichor that ate at my dreams. You were with him, but you were always alone.

I felt a sob fighting to get out from where I’d locked it away in my chest for all of these months. His arms tightened around me in response, an automatic reaction. He knew, he’d known–all of it, for all of this time since Under the Mountain. The nightmares, the guilt, the blood, and the loneliness.  The feeling of being surrounded and yet isolated, of holding myself together every night as Tamlin slept beside me, never once waking up.

Rhys knew, but he understood too, and he didn’t judge me for it.  He had already done so much for me and–

It’s okay to cry, Feyre, his voice whispered in my mind, soothing, calm.  Be grateful for your human heart. It’s okay to feel.

And so I did. I let myself feel, let that black poison that had been welling up inside–eating me alive–out, out, out in the form of tears. I wasn’t loud, but the tears kept coming, spilling out.  I let them fall, let them leave their marks on me as I cried for those fae who I’d held a dagger to and killed, for the pain and the horror and the ever-circling fear, for the girl who walked Under the Mountain for love and died there, never to come out the same.

It became harder to breathe, and I didn’t want to see those walls closing in once more, see the spikes in the ceiling coming down to crush me in my panic.  So I turned around in Rhys’s arms and tucked myself into his chest.  I held onto him like a talisman against the memories and the nightmares, against that fathomless pit in my mind full of all the screaming and the blood, all those bones and all that mud, where that darkness and panic threatened to crush everything I was.

And he held me, stroking my back as I fought to catch my breath against those tears, as I buried my face into the warm skin of his chest.  We didn’t speak–not now with both of us hardly awake–but I wasn’t ready to either.  Not yet.  

He seemed to know that, because he didn’t ask me to.  Instead, he just held me against him and ran his hand along my back, up and down, as steady as a wave or the wind brushing through the trees. At some point, my sleeping shirt rode up my back, and he didn’t hesitate when he sleepily slid his hand under it to continue those comforting patterns against my skin.  As if the motion was natural, instinctual.  And I didn’t mind because his hand felt warm and good against my back. It was comforting. Right.

Beneath my cheek, his chest began to vibrate as he softly hummed a melody.  I instinctively knew what it was, as anyone who was once a child would know: a lullaby.  An unfamiliar one that spoke of stars and moonlit fields, tall mountain peaks and the singing and swaying of trees in the dark.  Sleep, sleep, down beneath the waves of grain…

So I let myself go, and somewhere between the waking and the dreaming, I thought I heard a familiar voice, laced with dreams, whisper in my mind: You’ll never be alone…, he whispered. Never again….I’ll…stand…by you…always…


When I woke again, in the darkness right before the dawn, I had never felt as well rested.  But even though my mind felt sound–peaceful even–something felt distinctly…wrong.  I opened my eyes, looking at the shadows in the room.  Whatever the wrongness was, it was what had woken me up.  But there was nothing unusual about the room, nothing different at all…

Behind me, Rhys’s breathing stuttered against the back of my neck, his chest locking up for a second before he drew in another breath. His arms tensed around me, and I felt my center tighten as something simultaneously pulled on the bond.  

It felt…sickly, almost.  Emotions started crowding through: fear and rage and panic.  It flooded up to swamp my chest as I sucked in a breath and tried to sit up.

“Rhys,” I whispered, touching the arm still around my waist.  He didn’t respond, and I felt another wave, stronger this time–more overwhelming.  “Rhys, wake up,” I said, more firmly this time.  I tried to shake him awake, but he only rolled onto his back.  In the dim light coming in through the window, I could see a pallor to his skin that wasn’t there earlier. There was a thin layer of cold sweat on his chest and brow as well, and as I stared, his breathing caught in his throat.

And then came a sound that broke my heart.

Rhys whimpered.

And then he flinched. Actually flinched.

What nightmare would make a High Lord flinch? What dream would frighten the High Lord of the Night Court?

I quickly shifted to sit beside him, shaking him harder now, but no matter what I did, he wouldn’t wake up.  I could feel the pain and panic building–suffocating–but only some of it was my own.  

And then came his screaming.

“Rhys!” I gently grabbed his face–not thinking, just doing, following that urge through the bond–and instinctively brought my face down to touch my forehead to his. As I did, his nightmare snapped into being before my eyes.

Suddenly, I was Rhys, seeing through his eyes as Amarantha stood in front of her mussed bed in her nightgown.  Rhys was kneeling on the floor, the cold air uncomfortable on his naked torso as he stared unflinchingly up at her.  

The scene felt disjointed, somehow. It was almost as if time was fluctuating, speeding up and slowing down in leaps and bounds, and Rhys and Amarantha’s words were muffled.  Almost as if I was being partially blocked still…as if his mental wall was still up.

But if his mental barriers were still in tact, how was I seeing any of this at all?

Suddenly, the nightmare leaped forward and Amarantha wasn’t in front of Rhys, but behind him, wrapping those long fingers around the back of his neck as she yanked his hair to bare his throat.  Her nails were red with blood.

His blood, my mind whispered.

Rhys’s stare was unflinching as he looked up at her, even as those nails drew down his back, shredding his skin.  I felt the pain, the deep cuts that should have sealed from his magic but couldn’t because of Amarantha’s hold over him.  

“Where were you earlier tonight, Rhysand?” Amarantha asked softly.

Rhys’s breaths remained calm, as if he weren’t bleeding all over her bedroom floor.  When he spoke, it was with that unflappable cool, the voice of Amarantha’s whore.

“I went to Fire Night at the Spring Court, my queen,” he said.

“And why would you do that, Rhysand, when you know the cost?” she asked, cutting his shoulders with those jagged nails.

I saw my face flicker through Rhys’s mind.  He remembered me standing there by the bonfires of Fire Night, bewildered and curious, my hair gilded with gold and eyes like the lightest sky. Beautiful and human.  But then he pushed my image away, and the curiosity and the strange pull that came with it, and lied.

“To see if Tamlin has progressed with the curse,” he said smoothly.

“And has he?” she hissed, gripping the back of his neck even harder.  Rhys had to restrain the hiss of pain that threatened to come out.

“I don’t know; I could not tell.”

Lies.  He remembered me; he had his suspicions, but he had hidden me anyway.  Amarantha’s face twisted, and Rhys bit his tongue as he felt a deep cut open on his back again.  And then time flashed forward again and I felt Amarantha’s rage at Rhys’s disobedience, felt the savage pain she released upon his back, which did not heal.

Felt his horror, when she made him call forth his wings and she cut those too, breaking the small bones when not even that caused him to cry out.

And still he did not scream.  Even when he was screaming inside with the pain of it, the anguish. His wings. Not his wings…

Though the panic grew, he would not break, would not give her that satisfaction. But the pain expanded within him, climbing along his rib cage and sitting on his lungs, pressing down, pressing the breath out of him, and it was becoming overwhelming.  He was going to black out–

I did the only thing I could think of then: I somehow stepped out of Rhys’s body, separating myself from him, and I called out to him, lying both broken and unbroken–alone–on that bloody floor.

You are not alone, I tried to whisper to his mind, hoping he could hear me buried beneath his pain. I thought I saw him lift his head slightly, as if he could hear me, even if only a little.   Come back, come away, I’m here. I will not let you suffer alone. I tried to draw him away from that pain, from that memory of torture and horror that still poured into me through our connection.  And I grabbed at what I could, at any sense of hope or happiness, at any sense of beauty…

And I found myself humming a song–an echo of beautiful, passionate music, of the beat of the drums that felt vaguely familiar, tickling the edges of my memory. The song sang of a palace of moonstone high in the mountains of the north, and peace and freedom and skies full of richest night, and the one he lov-….

The dream shifted, and Rhys lifted his head and saw me. Then he closed his eyes–

–and I was back on the bed, my forehead pressed against his as his eyes fluttered open, dazed and confused.  He was breathing hard, still shaking, and then he moved faster than I could process. One moment I was sitting beside him, and the next I was pinned to the headboard, and Rhys’s face was wild, eyes unseeing and teeth bared.  His lethal talons were digging into the wood of the headboard, those glorious, bat-like wings spread out behind him, taking up the majority of the room at their full span.  He was glorious and terrifying, beautiful and deadly–both the brightest dream and the darkest nightmare.

And he was also in a panicked fury.

Shaking, breathing hard, those talons dug into the wood on each side of my head.  His nostrils flared, as if taking my scent, and I was waiting for the strike, the pain.

But I refused to be afraid.  I didn’t flinch, didn’t blink–just lifted my tattooed palm and cupped his cheek.  He was still breathing hard, but the mist of confusion in his eyes flickered.

I didn’t dare risk crossing that mental bridge, so I settled for speaking.

“Rhys, please, come back.” I lifted my other hand so I held his face in my hands.  The mist was clearing–slowly–while the fury leaked away.  Taking a deep breath, I pressed our foreheads together again so I could look into those unflinching eyes, at the darkness behind those galaxies.  

“It’s me, Rhys. It’s Feyre.  Amarantha’s gone; she’s dead.  Please…you’re not alone anymore.”

Rhys froze under my hands, and then he blinked.

“Feyre?” he croaked, sounding lost.  The talons faded, the wings folded home, and he slumped against me, as if he’d lost control of his body and limbs.

Shuddering slightly, he let his head rest against the crook of my neck and breathed in deeply, as if grounding himself in my scent.  

When he spoke against the hollow of my neck, his voice was barely a whisper, but the word he spoke was no longer a question, but an answer, one that seemed to hold all the world–all its hope and longing and relief wrapped into one: “Feyre.”

“Shh.” I wrapped my arms around his bare back–wings now gone entirely–and held him tightly to me.  “I’m here.  You’re not alone, you’re not alone. She can’t take your wings anymore.”

I felt his breath catch against my neck, and I felt rage for Amarantha, for this evil woman who caused so much pain and horror in her wake, who made Rhys suffer at her hands for 49 years–his own personal hell.  

Rhys held on to me as his breathing gradually calmed and he regained control. I let my hand run up and down his back, gut twisting in sympathy at the pale scars that cut across it–his perpetual gift from Amarantha.  I remembered now the conversation we’d had Under the Mountain, when I had asked him about Fire Night and he’d looked me up and down and said, “I had my reasons to be out then.  Do not think, Feyre, that it did not cost me.”

I had believed him then, but I’d never realized how high the cost had been.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the darkness was beginning to leach away from the sky when Rhys drew away enough to look at me.  His eyes were weary but normal, almost as if he’d never lost control at all.

“Thank you,” he said.  It was a simple phrase, but I understood his meaning. Thank you for waking me; thank you for leading me back; thank you for holding me and not letting me be alone.  Thank you for understanding.  

My answering smile was tired but real. “No one deserves to be alone.”

He cocked his head a bit, crooking the corner of his mouth in the smallest of smiles. “No, they don’t, do they?”

Then he paused, watching me.  “But Feyre, I must know…how did you know that song? The one you hummed?”

I felt warmth rise to my cheeks.  “I didn’t think you’d remember that.”

His mouth twitched. “That’s not a song I’d forget. But how did you know it? You’ve never been to a Night Court Cal-…ah. I see.” He had the gall to smirk at me.

“Oh no, you are not pulling the silent smirking act on me like you did with the fighting lessons.” I poked his chest, emphasizing each word as I said, “Tell. Me.”

He leaned closer. “Are you sure you want to know?” he taunted.

I set my chin and glared at him.

He chuckled before leaning forward to whisper in my ear. “You hummed the music of the Night Court’s Calanmai in my head, Feyre. If there was any music that would get my attention, it would be that…especially if it was being sung by you.”

“Oh.” I croaked.  I decided to ignore that last comment because my face was already flushed enough from embarrassment.  Rhysand was positively grinning with amusement. “But how would I know your–” I paused, finally remembering where I’d heard that music before: in the cell Under the Mountain.

“But you weren’t–”

He pulled away, chuckling.  “No, the Night Court hasn’t celebrated in 49 years.  What you caught in your cell was but a dream.”

I stared at him. “I experienced one of your dreams? But how–”

He tapped his head, expression rueful.  “Most of my powers had been stripped that night.  Amarantha was rather displeased with me again.  Hence my normal defenses were rather…compromised.”

If I could bring her back from the dead, I would kill Amarantha again and again–a thousand times over–for what she had done to him.

“I’m sorry.”  I’m sorry for what you went through; I’m sorry that you had to do it alone; I’m sorry for your pain.

He moved away to sit on his side of the bed, giving me the space to move away from the gouged headboard and slip back under the covers.

“It was never your fault, Feyre.  But yes, I understand. I’m sorry as well, for what it’s worth. If I’d been able to do it differently, to spare you some of that pain, I would have.”

I reached out and gripped his hand.  “I know.”

He started to pull away, as if he were about to get up and leave, but I tightened my grip on his hand.  “Where are you going?”

“I thought…” He looked pointedly at the headboard and then back at me, eyebrows raised.

I snorted. “Like a little mayhem has ever scared me before.  I thought we had a deal. Are you telling me you’re going to break it?”

Rhys cracked a grin then. “You are picking up this fae thing rather quickly, aren’t you? You’re quite the natural.  But you forget.” He pointed to the sky outside, at the gray edges of dawn. “The night is over.”

I grinned back at him, throwing a pillow at his head as I slid back underneath the covers. “And you forget, oh mighty High Lord of the Night Court, that here night never truly ends.”

Rhys’s laugh filled up the room, echoing in my bones. Holding the pillow in his hands, he looked at me, eyes glinting from across the bed, as he purred, “I could get used to you calling me mighty. Or all of those other delightful adjectives you have to describe me.”

I huffed. “Pricks sleep on that side of the bed,” I said, pointing to his side.

Yes, even those adjectives, Feyre darling.  But he did slip under the cover on his side.

I just wasn’t expecting him to grab my arm and pull me to him, towards the center of the bed.  I squeaked, but he just purred in content as he tucked me into his side.  There, much better.

What happened to sides? I asked, exasperated.

He just touched his forehead to mine again, and I felt the strange zing along that bond.  The one that had somehow let me past his shields…

Rhys distracted me from my trail of thoughts with his reply.  It’s compromise. I’m still on my side, you’re on yours, but this way I still get to enjoy watching you squirm. So the middle is our side.

I huffed out a laugh, even as I let my head rest on his bare shoulder and felt sleep pounce on me from where it had been waiting in the shadows.  You are incorrigible. And a prick…and a pig… and…

But I truly didn’t know what else he was because I was already falling into that well of sleep, even as around us the world began to wake up for the few hours of daylight that the Night Court possessed.


I felt the brush of his lips against my temple and then his voice in my head, already beginning to slip into my dreams.  Sleep, Feyre, his voice whispered.


He smiled against my temple, and that is the last thing I really remembered. Except for that final word that accompanied me into the warm darkness of peaceful sleep at last.


camd18  asked:

Hey guys, I found your blog and love what you're doing!!! I'm super interested in challenging your gym leaders but I've never played Pokemon for the IVs and such I think I need to level some more before I challenge you guys but if you could give me some more information about what exactly I have to do that'd be awesome. Thanks guys

Hi! Thank you for showing interest in the Poke-League~ We’re happy to offer you, and anyone else, the information needed to begin understanding and battling on a competitive level. Below is some streamlined information with links to more in-depth explanations on the various points of competitive battling. We hope this information helps you and others to better understand what it means to raise competitive Pokemon and we look forward to your future challenger applications!

What is competitive Pokemon battling, and how does it differ from what I’ve been doing all this time?

Competitive Pokemon battling refers to the combined knowledge of Base Stats, IV Breeding, Natures, Abilities, EV Training, Competitive Movesets, and Synergy that are applied when battling against other players in official tournaments, or leagues such as this.

It’s different from what is known as “metagame” battling (Metagame referring to challenges faced by the player through the game’s AI, not Player vs Player interaction) in the way that, unlike competitive battling, you only really need high-level Pokemon and a bunch of powerful moves to win.

Leveling does not matter in a competitive battle setting UNLESS you are playing Flat-Rules or No Restrictions. The game automatically bumps up your Pokemon to Lv.50 or scales them back to Lv.50 when battling against another player in a setting that is not Flat-Rules (Which allows Pokemon under, but not above, Lv.50) or No Restrictions (Which uses whatever levels your Pokemon are at). Flat Rules can be used by Gym Leaders and Elite Four of the Poke-League, but No Restrictions is never used. As such, it is recommended that all of your Pokemon are at or above Lv.50.

What are Base Stats?

Base Stats are what tell you a Pokemon’s most useful function in battle. Their values can range from 1 to 255 and give you a strong idea of how that Pokemon should be utilized. Base stats cannot be changed and are the same across all Pokemon of the same species. That means that no matter how many Umbreon you have, they will all inevitably have higher Defense and Sp. Defense than Attack and Sp. Attack.

Base stats are not, however, the end-all for a Pokemon’s potential. IVs, EVs, and Nature all also have a role to play.

Serebii offers a full breakdown of each individual Pokemon’s Base Stats on their PokeDex pages.

What is IV Breeding, and why is it important?

IV Breeding is a process to ensure your Pokemon hatch from their Eggs with the perfect IVs. What are IVs? Well, IV stands for Individual Value, and it refers to a randomly generated number between 0 and 31 that is applied to all your Pokemon’s stats when you either A) Receive an Egg from the Daycare Man/Lad, B) catch a wild Pokemon, or C) Receive a Pokemon as a gift (Via NPC or other means, like the Beldum at Steven’s House).

IVs are important because those random values are precious points that are added to your Pokemon’s stats as they level up. You won’t notice a big difference in-game unless your Pokemon is at Lv.50 or Lv.100, which is why they matter for competitive battling. Those 31 points can make or break a Pokemon and, in turn, make or break your chances of winning.

Example: You and your opponent both send out Salamence. Your Salamence moves first and uses Dragon Claw on the opposing Salamence, reducing it to half health. Your opponent’s Salamence also uses Dragon Claw, but KO’s your Salamence. Now, the reason for this is likely that your own Salamence had lower Defense and HP IVs while the opposing Salamence likely had higher Defense, HP, and Attack IVs.

To determine a Pokemon’s IVs, you can check with the Ace Trainer NPC in the Pokemon Center at the Battle Resort in ORAS or, alternatively, the Ace Trainer NPC in Kiloude City’s Pokemon Center in XY. Here is a link to help decipher the NPC’s messages about your Pokemon’s stats.

Breeding IVs can be a rather lengthy process without the right tools. IVs are passed on to the child Pokemon from their parent Pokemon at random. Normally, only 3 IVs are passed on from the parents while the others are randomly generated. Having one of the parent Pokemon hold a Destiny Knot ensures that 5 IVs are passed down instead of three. Having one of the parent Pokemon hold a “Power” item (Power Anklet/Bracer/Lens/etc) will ensure that that specific stat’s IV is passed down from the parent to the child, but is still only one of 5 IVs passed down if used in tandem with the Destiny Knot.

Here is a link to a comprehensive IV breeding guide to help you get started.

What are Natures and why do they matter?

Natures have been in Pokemon since Gen 3 and are an indicator of how your Pokemon’s stats will grow. There are 25 different Natures with five (Hardy, Quirky, Serious, Bashful, and Docile) that have no effect on your Pokemon’s stats. The other 20 increase one stat by 10% while decreasing another by 10%. One may think that neutral natures are the way to go, as they don’t lower your stats, but they also don’t raise them - and a lot of Pokemon have one stat that can do with a bit of loss.

Example: You’re wanting to breed a Scyther that will specializes in physical attacks when it evolves into Scizor, since its Sp. Attack is terrible. With that in mind, it’s logical to allow its Sp. Attack stat, which it won’t be using anyway, to be decreased even further by trying to breed an Adamant (Atk+, Sp.Atk-) or Jolly (Speed+, Sp.Atk-) natured Scyther.

There are no natures that influence HP. HP is determined purely by IVs and the amount of EVs invested into it.

Breeding natures is easy as long as you have an Everstone. Simply give the stone to the parent Pokemon whose nature you wish to pass on to the child and the child will have that nature, 100% guaranteed.

Here is a link with a table detailing all 25 natures and their respective buffs/debuffs.

Are Abilities really worth looking into?

The answer is yes. A Pokemon’s Ability can make it an integral part of your Pokemon team, or dead weight. A lot of Pokemon have abilities that don’t particularly shine, but even then it’s still best to be pragmatic and choose the one which will benefit your team the most.

Hidden Abilities were introduced in Gen 5 and provide a lot of Pokemon with much more useful abilities than they can get naturally. Hidden Abilities are fairly easy to come by in ORAS and XY through use of the Friend Safari, Hordes, and DexNav chaining.

It’s even possible to breed Pokemon with their Hidden Abilities! In ORAS and XY, if the mother Pokemon has her Hidden Ability, there is an 80% chance it will be passed on to the child. If the father has it, you can still luck out and get a child with its Hidden Ability 20% of the time.

Here is list of all Pokemon whose Hidden Abilities are legitimately obtainable in ORAS/XY.

What are EVs and how do I EV Train my Pokemon?

EV stands for Effort Value. EVs are what have the biggest impact on a Pokemon’s stats. You’ve been unknowingly raising your Pokemon’s EVs as you played through the main story of the game without even knowing it! That’s because, every Pokemon you defeat or capture gives a certain amount of EVs to your own Pokemon.

A Pokemon can have a total of 510 EVs across all six stats with each individual stat capping at 252. The reason is that EVs are divided by 4 before being calculated into stat points. That means that a Pokemon with 252 Attack EVs will be 63 points higher in Attack than a Pokemon with 0 Attack EVs, at Lv.100.

All Pokemon can yield 1, 2, or 3 EVs upon defeat/capture. Now, that may seem like a very meager amount (And it is) but there are various methods to speed up the EV training process.

Vitamins can be used to increase a Pokemon’s EVs by 10 in any one stat. However, Vitamins can no longer be used when a stat has reached 100 EVs or higher. The amount of EVs given by Vitamins cannot be manipulated.

PokeRus, the elusive “virus” that infects Pokemon, doubles the amount of EVs the Pokemon receives from defeating/capturing Pokemon and continues to work even after the condition has passed. This means the Pokemon would receive 2, 4, or 6 EVs rather than 1, 2, or 3.

The Macho Brace also doubles a Pokemon’s EVs and stacks with the PokeRus. By itself, the Macho Brace helps yield the same EVs as the PokeRus, but together, you can get 4, 8, or 12 EVs per Pokemon.

The Power items also effect EVs. Each one promotes the growth of a certain stat at the cost of the Pokemon being slower in battle while the item is equipped. These items add +4 to their respective stats regardless of the EVs the Pokemon received in battle. These items also stack with PokeRus, meaning you would gain +8 EVs rather than +4.

Example: Your Pokemon defeats a wild Zigzagoon (Which yields 1 Speed EV) while equipped with the Power Bracer (Which gives +4 Attack EVs), This means your Pokemon gained not only 1 Speed EV, but also 4 Attack EVs!

Horde Battles are a way of gathering EVs faster by defeating 5 Pokemon at a time rather than 1. Having a Pokemon with Sweet Scent helps as the move always results in a Horde Battle in ORAS and XY when used in the field.

Super-Training is also an option and provides you with a visible guide to your Pokemon’s EVs. It’s fairly self-explanatory so I won’t go in-depth here. However, do know that regardless of whether you use the Super Training function, it will still show you whatever EVs the Pokemon in your party have accrued.

The Exp. Share also shares EVs. Keep this in mind when EV Training as it could ruin other Pokemon in your party. Or, it can be utilized to speed up the process with Pokemon who you want to have similar EV distributions.

If you make a mistake or simply have a beloved Pokemon whose EVs need to be redone, you have three options: A) Berries. There are six berries (Pomeg, Kelpsy, Qualot, Hondew, Grepa, and Tamato) that lower your Pokemon’s EVs by 10 when consumed. Each affects a different stat and will stop working if your Pokemon is at max Happiness (As they also increase Happiness) B) Reset Bags. These are obtained randomly via Super Training and, when used, completely reset your Pokemon’s EVs. C) This option is only available in XY. If you have a Kee Berry and a Maranga Berry, you can take them to the Juice Shoppe in Lumiose City to create the Perilous Soup, which functions like a Reset Bag and completely resets your Pokemon’s EVs.

The way your Pokemon’s EVs are distributed are called EV Spreads and you should put a lot of thought into this when raising your Pokemon. Smogon is a decent resource for determining how a Pokemon’s EVs should be distributed for a particular set. Do not consider their spreads to be concrete by any means. Instead, use them as guidelines for building your own spreads.

Here is a comprehensive guide on EVs with information on optimum Hordes and how to best utilize PokeRus, the Macho Brace and Power Items.

What is considered a “competitive” moveset? Why can’t I use attacks I like?

Well, you can. But chances are, you’ll lose. A competitive moveset is four moves chosen for a Pokemon that will ensure it is as versatile as possible and benefit your team.

Running Fire Blast, Flamethrower, Strength and Fly on a Charizard is not going to get you very far at all. However, Dragon Dance, Dragon Claw, Fire Punch and Roost (For a Charizard whose purpose is to Mega Evolve into CharizardX) allows for much more versatility.

Generally, you want your Pokemon to be able to hit as many different types as it can for at least neutral damage. For that reason, having two damaging moves of the same type is pretty redundant (There are some exceptions).

However, you also need to look at non-damaging moves that can improve your Pokemon’s effectiveness in battle. Take that CharizardX set-up, for example. Dragon Dance increases CharizardX’s already great Attack even further and bumps up its Speed to allow it to outspeed your opponent and possibly KO before they can get a move in. Roost provides it with the ability to heal and therefore last much longer in battle.

Things like Base Power and Accuracy also need to be considered when building a moveset. Zap Cannon, though powerful, is a terrible competitive move since it only hits 50% of the time, and who wants to rely on that when they’re down to their last Pokemon? Moves with less than Base 60 Attack Power aren’t even worth considering in most cases (The exception being Abilities that enhance their power like Technician, Aerialate, Refrigerate and Pixelate).

What is Synergy?

Synergy is your team’s ability to mesh and function as a unit in battle rather than as individuals. Now, this is important in building a competitive team because just throwing a team consisting solely of Pokemon that all function the same (Physical attacks, tanks, healers, etc.) isn’t going to get you any wins.

This page gets really in-depth into what it means to build a competitive team and I highly recommend reading through all of its Table of Contents as it covers all the previous topics I’ve explained and then some.


I hope this has helped you and whoever else has read this answer to better understand the components of competitive battling~ Feel free to leave us any further questions and we’ll be sure to answer as soon as possible!

- Elite Four Hiram

anonymous asked:

Yes, NB does mean Nonbinary! It means you don't really identify as Male or Female, but can use She/Her or He/Him Pronouns!! I'm Masculine Nonbinary, meaning I don't identify as anything but prefer being referred to as a guy. Hope that helps! - 🎀 Ribbon Anon 🎀

This really helped me understand it better, thank you so much Ribbon Anon!! ♡

“Don’t you love me anymore?! Is that it? Is that why…?!”

“I swear, it’s not like that!”

“And all those times you said you loved me, you were screwing her! How dare you!”


“Just as I thought. Nothing to say. I thought you would break my heart one day. Never knew it would be so soon.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. You know what, you can get out of here.”


Dean was on the edge of the stool, poised in such a way he could take the heartbreak for the next line. Dr. Sexy was going to proclaim his love to Dr. Juliana this episode - he had to. It’d been going on forever!

But unfortunately Dean’s viewing time was cut short with the shriek of Charlie Bradbury’s voice. “Hey, Winchester! We’re open, so get your ass out here now!”

Sighing, Dean turned his phone off and took out his headphones. Tucking them into his pocket, he jumped down with a spring in his steps before making his way into the counter.

“What’s got you?” Charlie nudged him.

“Dr. Sexy. Last nights episode. He’s just so…perfect. I can’t believe Dr. Juliana thinks he’s cheating on her. After all these seasons!”

Charlie rolled her eyes dramatically. “It’s just a tv show, Dean.”

“How dare you?!”

“I’m joking. That would be very hypocritical of me. Yeah, I’m not over Gilda from Fantasy Of Nightingale,” she sighed, her eyes glazed and staring out of the window as if her celebrity crush would fly through it and rescue her.

“Right,” Dean eventually said.

He had work to do.

In and out came customers, most boring, some hot, some weird in a good way…others, well, it’s safe to say not in a good way.

It approached around midday, the sun was high, the colours of city life outside the café were vibrant and complimentary to the shops design. Dean grinned to himself, breathing in the fresh air every time the door opened.

It’s not that he hated this job that made him want to quit: he loved every aspect of it here. He just felt like his mind was better off working someplace else. The where was yet to be found.

While Dean was daydreaming, a man entered through and looked slightly out of place.

Dean waited behind the counter and watched closely to the man approaching.

He had hair with no style; it was simply a short raven mess. And his clothing style was like he was going for the ancient-languages-lecturer-at-college aesthetic. The dark blue skinny jeans that were very worn down; the dark off-brown jacket; thin rimmed glasses; his ‘I haven’t shaved in a week’ beard; simply everything about him was a disheveled mess of a professor.

“Excuse me, can I have a medium cappuccino, sir?” His voice was rough and deeper than Dean had ever heard someone near enough his age speak. But it was like a purring engine almost, very sensual too.

“Coming right up. What’s your name?”

“Excuse me?”

Dean paused his actions, holding the cup in one hand and a permanent marker in the other. “For the cup. Your name.”

“Oh, uh…Skywalker, Luke,” the man said with a curl to his full and chapped lips.

“Okay, Mr. Skywalker,” Dean grinned back. This seemed to make 'Luke’ more relaxed. He leaned up against the counter even, looking through his shoulder back and through files (definitely a teacher of some sort, Dean thought), then pulled out his wallet.

The weirdest thing was that he continued beaming and smiling fondly as Dean passed the cup to Charlie to finish up the drink. Dean felt a hint fondness towards this man well up in his chest.

When Charlie was done she called his name with a laugh in her tone.

Dean, by this time had moved onto another customer, but he didn’t stop watching over that man until they shared a glance and he went on his way about the world - never to see each other again.


“Who was that?” Charlie nudged Dean when they were hanging around at hers after their shift.

“Who was who?”

“That guy that you were giving heart eyes too earlier, Luke Skywalker, yeah, like you could forget him. Who was he?”

Dean would be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about bright blue eyes and red plaid shirts behind brown jackets all day. Who could blame him - really?

“I have no idea,” he sighed.

“Why didn’t you get his number!? He was totally into you.”

“No he wasn’t. You’re just wishing it was. And so am I. And it’s not like we’re going to find out if he was into me or not now.”

“Yep. Too late, you idiot.”


The next day, around lunch hour, the shift was busy. Dean had been rushing about all morning and he was glad he was only working half a day.

He checked the time. Soon, he thought.

In the midst of tidying up and getting down orders and names, one stood out for him.

“Cappuccino, please.” Dean looked up to see the same man from yesterday. Only today he’d shaved and was wearing a blue shirt with a few buttons undone. Fuck. He was gorgeous.

Dean stared at him for a moment before composing himself. “Same as yesterday?”

The man nodded. “Under the name 'Mulder’, thanks.”

“You got it.”


After that day, surely, surely, he wouldn’t come back for the same order 3 days in a row.

But he did.

“Can I have a-”

“Same as yesterday?” Dean asked, hopeful eyes staring softly at the gentleman in front of him. He felt like he was having a high school crush at this point despite seeing the man only a few times. But he was sweet. And beautiful. And nerdy - which is all Dean ever wanted in life.

“It’s Steve Rogers, the name for the cup,” the man squinted cutely at Dean’s name tag before looking at him back in the eyes, “thank you Dean.”

“You’re welcome.”


“Cappuccino, for Mr…?”

“Starlord.” The man looked smugly at Dean with his hands shoved in his pockets. Dean rolled his eyes at him, wrote down the name anyway. “Can you blame me?”

“No, I can’t. It’s funny, you know. Are you normally this sneaky?” Dean nodded at him. The man just chuckled to himself and looked down. “Okay, fine. Will I be seeing you tomorrow?”

'Starlord’ just winked before waiting for his drink over by Charlie.

For a cute guy he really left a lot of mystery and knowledge to be desired.


By the end of the first 5 days it had become their thing. Dean had the weekend off and just used the time thinking about his new crush. It probably wasn’t healthy but he couldn’t help it.

By the end of week two they had been edging near flirtatious territory. Dean was too scared to ask the guy out or even ask why he was coming to the same shop 5 days a week at near enough the same time. The other guy, well, Dean didn’t even know his real name. All he knew was the man was definitely not straight.

As week three came to a close they’d established this ritual: banter, light conversation, the name of the day before their shared small smiles or prolonged glances.

It was only when week 5 began things changed between them. Their hands lingered more when exchanging cash, or they itched nearer to each other with every moment they could afford.

Dean didn’t mind. It was just he didn’t want this all to be for nothing. A build up without a final hit, an almost something between him an a stranger once upon a time.

Dean waited. It was around this time of day that his 'friend’ entered. Charlie was ready with the cappuccino and Dean was ready with his most attractive smile he could pull of.

Then he came in. Dean sighed in relief.

But something was different about the man this time. Dean couldn’t quite figure it out. He seemed more nervous as he fingered his bag strap or held his own hands awkwardly.

“Are you alright?” Dean asked with some concern.

“I’m fine thank you, Dean.” Dean loved it when he said his name. And when he said he loved it, he means he had no way imagined 'I do, Dean’ in his dreams or anything like that…

“So…What’s it today?”

“Castiel,” he replied slowly.

Dean could pretend he understood what he meant but he didn’t. So with the cup in hand, he stood closer. “I don’t understand that reference?”

“I-It’s not a reference. It’s actually my name.”

“You’re joking- what sort of…” Dean’s almost laughter trailed off at Castiel’s stern look. “You’re not joking. Well, I- uh, well it’s very…” He was being eyed carefully. Dean took in a small breath and braced himself as he let the words flow. “Beautiful. It’s beautiful, Castiel. It’s breathtakingly angelic, l-like your eyes.”

“Way to make a guy feel special,” Castiel blushed.

“I have better ways, I swear.” Dean said it like a hopeful promise.

“I’m sure you do.”

Dean wrote down the name. But this time he added his number and a few kisses underneath before handing the cup over to Charlie. As per usual, Cas stood in the corner and waited for his order.

Smirking, Dean was half watching as to when Cas got his order. It was fairly soon after and Dean’s heart swelled with the look of surprise on Castiel’s face as he saw what Dean had written.

Then he looked back at Dean, biting his lip as if to stop his smile from spreading to wide.

Castiel left the shop with a spring in his step that day. When he got out of sight of Dean, he picked up his phone and called his brothers number.

“Have you done it?”

“I’ve got his number, Gabe! His number!” He practically jumped up and down on the side walk.

“Son of a bitch. Looks like you didn’t need your older brother intervening anyway. What are you going to do with it?” Gabriel said with pride.

“I’m going to ask him out for dinner tomorrow,” Cas nearly squeaked, “holy shit, Gabe. He’s so cute.”

“So you’ve been telling me for the last month,” he dryly said. “Stop wasting time talking about how much you think he’s a God and text him!”

“Okay, okay I’ll do that. What if he’s doesn’t like me? What if I’m too old or something? What if-”

“He wants to kiss you so hard bro, trust me! Now. Text. Him. And. Ask. Him. Out. Understand?”

Cas was too busy smiling to say anything else. He just hung up and wrote down Dean’s number into his contacts.

Something about this felt like it was going to be very special.

Happy new year!! (❁´◡`❁)
i hope 2016 will just be as wonderful if not even more so than 2015. It’s been such an amazing ride so far. I’m extremely thankful to all of you guys for the support and lovely feedbacks towards all my drawings! I’ve only had this humble art blog for a handful of months but I’ve already reached a milestone i haven’t thought of achieving. I’ve also met a lot of super talented and friendly ARMYs along the way, It just makes me so unbelievably happy! I want to gather everyone for a group hug~(˶′◡‵˶)

As for (mandatory) art goals, i hope i can grasp a better understanding of color theory this year. I think it would be mighty useful in broadening my color pallet. I also hope i can draw jin with my eyes closed ( ̄∇ ̄;) (or with casual references at the very least) They say when you can draw your bias without reference, you’ve practically made it halfway.

Let’s run towards another great year!


Artist Recommendations?

Specifically, artists that are currently taking commissions.

I’ve got a bit of money saved and there’s an idea for a drawing I’ve wanted for a while. Can you guys recommend any artists (either specializing in lifelike or cartoonish human figures) who’d be interested in drawing me a trio of people?

I’m picturing three people (specifically: Neil Gaiman, Carrie Fisher, and Emily Gordon) maybe in a triangle configuration. I’d like a banner with a quote from each of them under their images. The figures themselves would be from the waist-up, so not a full-body rendering. There would be hands involved, though.

I’m compiling the reference photos and the quotes myself, in hopes of making my idea easier to understand. (Shockingly, the writer has no idea how to elegantly describe art). I don’t have a set budget yet (I’d like to hear from artists what would be a realistic price for such a thing), so I’d welcome any recommendations.

I want this as a “here’s your inspiration people art” so I can hang it on my office wall and look at it to remind me to keep going.

Please help a girl out?


Request: I don’t know how to explain this but please do a grayson imagine when you are dating and you are both actors and you both play in a tv series and you die in the series with he’s reaction to it and the like how the fans react to it ( sorry if this is cheesy 😅💔)

a/n; I tried to understand this as best as I could, so I hope it’s alright & I didn’t name a show so I’m just going to refer to it. 

Word Count: 296 (sorry it’s short)

Pairing: Grayson Dolan X Reader

Y/N’s P.O.V

“So as we all know in the latest episode of the TV show you guys are in, your character dies, right Y/N?” The interviewer asked me, Grayson glanced at me, “Yes, unfortunately she did.” I responded, she nodded, “What did you do to prepare yourself for such an emotional scene?” She asked. 

“I have lost a lot of people in my life so far, so I just tried to use the emotions and memories I’ve had from those events in my life.” I explained, smiling softly. I noticed the camera pan down to my hand as Grayson laced his fingers with mine. 

“Now Grayson,” She started off, catching his attention, “Was it difficult to act as if your on screen and off screen girlfriend was dying?” She read from her card of questions, he nodded almost instantly. 

“It definitely wasn’t easy.” He assured her, she nodded in understanding, “What did you do to prepare for that scene?” She reiterated her question from earlier. “I just put myself in the frame of mind that it was happening. I imagined it as if Y/N was dying.” He answered, making both me and the interviewer smile at him. 

“That must have been difficult then?” She asked, “Yes, it was.” He answered, I laughed, “The next couple of days after we filmed that scene, he would not let me out of his sight. It was adorable really.” I explained, laughing at the end. An embarrassed smile fell upon his face. 

The interviewer laughed along with me, “Did you guys have some time to see fan reactions?” She asked, “Of course!” I answered cheerfully, “These are all reactions from twitter,” She said before starting to read them. “Oh my god, how is this even possible?!” “WHAT IS HAPPENING NO!” “I’M CRYING.”