i laughed but i'm still not sure if this bit was supposed to be funny

One Last Time, touken/tousaki fanfic

Summary: One of the many times Haise visits Touka in :re, and his last. Based on Mutsuki’s flashbacks from chapter 114. One-shot.

Rating: K+, fluff | Words: 4,362k | Read on AO3 - If you like it, please reblog! ♥

A/N: I missed writing tousaki so much *cries* I’m happy with the result even if it’s not extremely relevant. This would be what Mutsuki sees in his flashback, that everyone was wondering if he just followed Kaneki or something. This could also be the last time Haise sees Touka? I’m not sure, you can decide that for yourselves. If you liked this weird thing, feedback is always appreciated! <3 enjoy. 


She takes his breath away; just having her near him is enough to make his heart flutter.

“Hi,” she says, smiling softly, greeting him with the most beautiful presence. Her eyes look kindly surprised to see him there.

She’s wearing a pigtail at the back of her head, soft stray strands of hair falling on each side of her face, one lock touching her right eye, stroking her eyelashes. She looks prettier than the last time he saw her, and seeing her with a new hairstyle is surprisingly refreshing.

Don’t say anything about her hair, don’t be an idiot, don’t s—

“Y-Your hair looks cute,” that’s the first thing he says.

Keep reading

I Got 99 Problems and You’re Number One

… Yes, this is what you’re thinking. Me being super late to start @starcoweek3 


So.. yeah, I’m a bit ashamed it took me this long to finish, like, we are almost over it…

Also, guys I didn’t give up JanTom Week, all the fics have half done but I had a major block with Jantom (probably due to EA just wanted me on the climax chapters and I’m still finishing it) I plan to finish before next jantom week lol

Also,, huge thanks to @mrevaunit42 and @axis2600 for helping to post this anyway, you guys are awesome! *hugs*

Also a special mention to @fullertoons for creating this amazing au! 

I hope you enjoy :D

PS: lots of people identified this as the Starco song because of EA, and I ended up using to write in this too along with this one.

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

I 99 Problems and You’re Number One

Marco sat in the waiting room annoyed. He and Star went to Mewni to come kind of ceremony that she was obligated to comply and for whatever reason, he got into it too. The princess had asked him if he could wait for her to get ready to give an opinion to her dress and how he was supposed to say no when she looked at him with those blue eyes full of hope?!

He had a major problem, not only because he was completely hopeless for those blue eyes sparkling hope, or the cutest heart marks she had, or how she was enchanting on every single way, or how Star walked like floating like she was a ballerina… No, all that was consequences of his number one problem.

The fact he was falling for the princess.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

20 and 12 for mreyder :3

Things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear

Reyes never slept much, that was just how things were. There was always so much to do, so many things requiring his immediate and undivided attention that being dead to the world for more than a bare minimum of hours seemed like a horrible waste of time. His body was so used to this ascetic regime that even on his rare days off he simply couldn’t force himself to sleep in. At the break of dawn, or whatever equivalent it had in deep space, he laid wide awake staring at the quarters’ ceiling, no trace of drowsiness lingering in his mind.

That had its perks though. Reyes turned his head to the right, a fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Unlike him, Scott had zero problems with sleeping – he slept, one can even say, with enthusiasm, mouth parted and drooling obliviously at his pillow.

Lo and behold the mighty Pathfinder.

The thought that he was the only one privileged enough to see Scott like this, so vulnerable, unkempt, almost childlike warmed Reyes’s heart to a degree he did not anticipate. The things that man did to him, unbelievable…

A month or so had passed since the Charlatan’s coup d'état in Kadara Port and it was only Reyes’s second night he got to spend on the Tempest. But things were looking good on all fronts, more than Reyes dared to expect even in his most optimistic prognoses. He had been preparing himself mentally that Scott – Scott the paragon of virtue who flew across the galaxy helping people – would reject him as soon as he’d learn the whole truth, of all the shady and questionable things he had done. But no. Scott understood that things were rarely black and white, Scott accepted him for who he was, good and bad. Reyes knew that he was a lucky man to have found someone like Scott. He didn’t deserve him, not by a long shot.

Reyes felt the overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around his lover. Not being the one to refuse himself much, he shifted closer to Scott, his hand resting on his shoulder blade, his lips pressing to his forehead.

Scott stirred, sighing softly. A warm, boneless mass against Reyes’s chest. Barely lucid, he instinctively reached out for his lover, his fingers curling on the tawny hip. Scott didn’t open his eyes yet. Maybe that was for the best – he couldn’t see the embarrassingly mushy expression on Reyes’s face.

“Rey…?” he mumbled, his lips tickling Reyes’s neck as he spoke.

“Yes?” He carded his hand through the mess of hair on Scott’s head, massaging his scalp gently. Scott liked that, the tender motion always seemed to soothe him. It worked like magic even now, making the Pathfinder sigh again with contentment.




“Coffee?” Reyes echoed with amusement. “You want some?”


“As you wish.” Reyes chuckled, nuzzling against his cheek. “One coffee coming right up.”

A languid smile curved Scott’s lips.

“Love you,” he said, warm glints of affection flickering in his half-opened, heavy-lidded eyes, still clouded with remnants of whatever dream he was having.

The sight completely melted Reyes’s heart. Smiling like a fool, he kissed Scott’s temple, the corner of his eye, his cheek before finally letting their lips meet in a surprisingly chaste union, almost an antithesis of the lustful kisses they shared in the evening.

“Be right back,” Reyes said, stroking Scott’s chest before finally sliding away from his lover towards the edge of the bed. He let his bare feet fall onto the cold floor and then stood up, stretching his stiff muscles. Although the temperature on the Tempest was optimal for humans and other humanoid species, it still felt chilly against his naked skin, warmed so perfectly by Scott’s pliant body. He missed it already.

No, his thoughts shouldn’t wander off in that direction or he’d just dive in straight back to bed and never leave.

With an inward sigh, he located his pants under a chair, thrown there haphazardly the night before. He picked them up, aware of Scott’s gaze on him.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, turning to his lover. Just as expected, Scott, still not fully awake, observed him with a relaxed smile playing on his lips.


Reyes shook his head and put the pants on.

“I expect something in return for that coffee. I am, after all, a greedy man.”

“I know… a kiss then?”

“Not good enough.”


“At least five.”

“Four and a half,” Scott said with mock sternness. “Final offer.”

Reyes laughed, feeling another burst of sentiment towards that impossible man.

“Deal. You drive a hard bargain.”

“Been taught by the best.”

They exchanged telling glances and smiles like true partners in crime.

This relationship shouldn’t have worked, all evidence and premises pointed to its inevitable destruction. How could love bloom freely between the human Pathfinder, a symbol of hope for the whole of Andromeda, and the Charlatan, the head of a criminal organization ruling over Kadara Port? But somehow it did, against all odds.



“The coffee I’m going to prepare for you,” said Reyes smoothly, giving his lover his signature wink.

Hearing Scott chuckle, Reyes walked across the room to the door. He hesitated before pressing the button though. His current looks were hardly… presentable. Wearing only his pants, with disheveled hair and enough love bites on his skin not to leave much to imagination what he and Scott were doing the night before, he was bound to scandalize the crew, who didn’t have a very high opinion on him in the first place.

Oh well, it was still early, surely no one would be up at this ungodly hour, he thought punching the door open.

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, he understood how wrong he was. Jaal and Liam were sitting at the table, empty bottle of wine in front of them, and chatting about something animatedly. At least until they spotted Reyes. The atmosphere then soured at once. Both the angara and the human gave him unfriendly stink eyes reserved perhaps for something filthy that stuck to the sole of your shoe.

Well then, an excellent start.

“Morning,” Reyes said in a neutral tone as if he hadn’t noticed the icy cold reception. They didn’t reply. It didn’t bother him too much though. Tons of people hated him, that was basically in the job description. Two more didn’t make too much of a difference, he was used to it.

Unperturbed, he opened the cupboard and took out Scott’s favorite mug – the one with the Brave Heart Lion from the old Care Bears cartoon. What a nerd. Reyes caught himself smiling like a goofball as he started the coffee machine. Scott’s blend of choice contained more milk, caramel syrup and sugar than the coffee itself, he knew that by now. Sweet drink for a sweet boy.

God, he couldn’t believe he had just thought something that cheesy. Scott brought out the worst sap out of him. And Reyes wasn’t entirely sure if he minded that.

Reyes was so caught up in his own musings that he had nearly forgotten that he wasn’t alone in the kitchen. A grunt full of disapproval and even more disapproving words reminded him of that quite successfully.

“I don’t like you,” announced Jaal.

It was hard not to laugh, but Reyes managed to keep a straight face.

“And here I thought we can make s’mores and sing kumbaya together.”

“I don’t understand what you are referring to, but we will certainly not do that.”

“Well, here go my weekend plans…”

“Listen, smartass,” Liam chimed in, openly hostile. “You’re not welcome on this ship.“

“No, really? I can’t believe it, everyone’s so nice to me,“ Reyes deadpanned, casting a brief, almost bored glance at the man. This indifferent reaction only infuriated Liam even more.

“It’s a disgrace that you’re here,“ Liam slurred, the alcohol making him more open with his resentment. “You’re a bloody exile and a criminal, you should be in prison.“

Reyes felt the anger rushing in his veins, but he bit back the reply, not showing that the words had phased him in any way. There was no point trying to engage in a conversation with any of them. All he had to do was to wait until the machine spat out the fancy coffee for Scott and he’d be out of here in a blink of an eye.

But Liam wasn’t done yet, not even close. He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Honestly, Scott must be a bigger idiot than we thought to trust you.“

It was as if a thunderbolt hit him straight in the chest. He spun around to face them, his muscles tensed and ready for a fight.

“Leave him out of this,“ he snarled, making Liam and Jaal stare at him with surprise and maybe with fear too. “You don’t like me and insulting me is your new hobby? Fine, I’ve heard worse. But don’t you fucking dare talk shit about Scott.“

“Yeah, as if you care about him,“ Liam said with scorn. “You’re just using him for his connections, we all know that. Only Scott is too naive to see that.“

Reyes narrowed his eyes, seething and truly wounded. It… well, it was a painful thing to hear. If the crew thought that about him, could Scott be swayed too one day?

“We’re watching you. When you hurt him we will eject you into space.“ Jaal wasn’t joking. “With pleasure.“

Reyes grit his teeth, clenched his fists. They went too far. Implying that he was here to hurt Scott? No, he couldn’t stand for it, he wouldn’t.

“Same applies to you,“ he said, his voice sharp like a blade of a knife.

“What?“ Liam replied, puzzled. Reyes smiled, but that smile had no humor in it. It was a warning.

“You’re all so self-righteous, looking down and passing judgment, and yet you seem to forget who I really am. I’m not just some smuggler nobody. I’m the Charlatan. If any of you just as much as look at Scott in a funny way, you’ll have the wrath of the whole Collective on your asses. Just so we’re clear, it’s a two way alley. You may keep an eye on me, but I’m keeping mine on you just as much. Hurt him and you’ll die. Painfully.“

A soft ding cut through the silence that enveloped the room – the coffee was ready. Reyes took the mug and walked out of the room, not deigning Liam and Jaal with even a passing glance. He didn’t have to, he knew they were both staring at him in stunned silence.

* * *

Hearing the sound the machine made, Scott backed away slowly, returning to his room. His heart raced in his chest. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he got bored waiting and decided to join his boyfriend in the kitchen. But what he heard… Reyes’s words resounded with devotion, care and power. Scott was slightly frightened. And touched. And turned on, all at once.

He needed to have a serious talk with his crew though.

Scott kicked off his pants and slipped under the sheets again as if he had never left. Reyes walked in a moment later, a steaming mug in his hands.

Scott looked closely at his lover’s face, trying to read his thoughts on what had happened in the kitchen. Reyes was so good at clamming up, at hiding his emotions, burring them deep beneath the surface of a suave charmer. But Scott couldn’t be fooled. He saw the hurt in his lover’s eyes, despite his efforts to smile.  

“Here you are. One coffee, just as requested,“ Reyes said, sitting at the edge of the bed. Scott sat up as well, taking the mug carefully. The smell told him that Reyes remembered how he liked to take his drink. That was really sweet.

“Thank you.“ Scott hesitated, unsure if he should do it. But he felt like he must. He put the mug away on the nightstand. Reyes looked at him quizzically, thousands of thoughts probably running through his head.

“I love you,“ Scott said, pouring his heart into these words, his hand reaching to Reyes’s cheek. “And nothing and no one can change that. I… I just wanted you to know that,“ he added, a little embarrassed.

But Reyes looked at him with nothing but adoration, his eyes lively and bright again.

“Thank you, Scott. I needed to hear that.“ His words were soft, just as his lips when he gave him a kiss. And then another, locking him in a warm embrace.

The coffee stood on the nightstand completely forgotten.

If you liked this ficlet please consider buying me a coffee (coffee ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ). Any donations are greatly appreciated,

Say Hello

Read on FFN here

Washington, DC, USA

“You should contact him.”

McGee looked up from his computer and gave Bishop a sad smile. She had tried so hard to convince him over the past weeks, and she did not seem to be planning on giving up any time soon.

He sighed, “Bishop, we’ve been over this.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “If you would just stop being so stubborn.”

“I’m not,” he huffed.

“Look, if you won’t contact Tony about the wedding, I will,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

He shrugged, “Whatever.”


She started typing on her computer, but could still feel McGee’s gaze on her.

“Fine,” he huffed loudly.

She looked up at him, a sparkle in her eyes, challenging him, “Fine.”

Paris, France

The loud ping of his phone woke Tony up and he rolled over with a groan. He reached for his phone blindly and blinked as the bright light hit his eyes. An email notification had popped up on his screen. A small smile formed on his face when he saw who it was from.


The sleepy voice brought an even bigger smile to his face, the email suddenly less interesting than it had been a second ago. He put his phone back onto the nightstand and turned back around.

Keep reading

I'm Not Nervous

Prompt:Dan isn’t a youtuber, but Phil is. Phil takes Dan to Playlist or Vidcon and super shy and socially awkward Dan tries to meet Phil’s fans with him.”

This isn’t really a prompt but maybe something you could throw into a shy Dan fluffy fic, Dan still sucks his thumb when he is feeling shy or tired and Phil thinks it’s adorable.

AU, pure fluff
Words: 2.074

Keep reading

Credence Barebone

@venastella said: »Quiromantic/sexual (leaning towards gay) Credence.
Who lives happily ever after far away from anything bad. Trust me this is canon.«

Credence survives despites all odds and after all the mess has lightened up, he just runs and runs away from New York and all of his demons there. He ends up in a small, tightly-knit Wizard community in the mid-west US and at first no one understands this boy, equally drawn to and terrified by magic. They figure that he has lived through terrifying things and that he needs time.

Healing feels weird. He still has nightmares, but there will be days when he won’t feel like every time someone adresses him it is an attack on his existence. He will be able to talk without stuttering sometimes. The family who has taken the lost boy in will be careful to wear their belts as invisible as possible and never take them off in his presence.

No one wants to hurt him. People are nice and they like him because he is kind and eager to do good; they give him food and a small job in the local Wizarding pre-school. He knows how to handle children because he’d always been supposed to look after them in his … Mrs Barebone’s house. The children like the young man who doesn’t talk much but always encourages them to follow their interests and never hits them when they do wrong.

There will be a short episode during which his foster parents make remarks about how their eldest daughter needs a husband but after some time they realise that Credence panics when the conversation turns to that topic and they let it be (also, their daughter isn’t interested herself at all). Romancy never played a role in his thoughts and he doubts that he is made for it. Nobody ever wanted him. He can’t bear closeness. And where does one draw the line between platonic and romantic feelings anyway? People get married for all sorts of reasons, and it is rarely love. There are people who love each other but couldn’t ever marry. It’s weird.

But then there is the pre-school teacher, just a few years older than him, who makes him open up a little. Credence never experienced someone acknowledging him, wanting to know his opinion on how to deal with that child’s anger moods or on how they should celebrating the harvest at school. Or on which subject used to be the coolest at Ilvermorny. The teacher learns that Credence never went there and figures that he probably grew up without a lot magical education since sometimes Credence doesn’t know the simplest things about magic.

He makes sure that Credence knows that he can always talk to him and after about a year of having crashed at the village, the two start spending many nights just sitting by the fire and asking each other all sorts of questions. And Credence talks and talks. About feeling the Obscurial inside him, being it, the choking guilt of having harmed so many people’s life, the bright fear whenever someone talks a bit louder than usual, the feeling that he will never fit in - not into the Wizarding World and surely not inbetween muggles.

The teacher listens and asks and Credence will feel that there is someone in the world to whom he is more than just a plain figure. He is starting to exist. He is starting to feel good things. The kids make him smile and he has finally found a family - and when his foster mother calls him son one evening, he can’t help but start crying. He goes on long walks with the teacher after school’s out and in some ways it is like in the stories. They grow closer and closer and their conversations at night time turn deeper and deeper and Credence doesn’t know what he is feeling or whether he should hate himself for being obscure and finding comfort in another man.

“You realise that in the Wizarding World love doesn’t distinguish between genders, as it does in the muggle world?”, he is being asked one summer night, roughly a year and a half after he flew from his old life. He wants to say something and a puddle of tones stutter from his lips. He is caught up in the eyes of this man, who made him want to be. Credence is afraid, he doesn’t know where this conversation could be leading, whether he is supposed to do anything or not and the anxiety shoots through his veins. “I just wanted to make sure you knew that. You are allowed to be happy and do as you like.”

Credence sinks together a little. “Thank you”, he murmurs. The teacher just laughs and it is Credence’ favourite sound in the world. “Don’t thank me. Thank yourself for getting through all that you experienced. I …”, he makes a little pause, “I admire your strength, Credence, I really do. But sometimes you just have to do the first thing that comes onto your mind, okay?” Credence looks up to him and blushes a bit. “ I don’t think so.” The teacher smiles and whispers, “Well, I do”. Credence’ eyes hurt a little because he hasn’t blinked for a while. The fear vanishes and turns into something giddy and warm.

The message that the pre-school teacher and his assistant were going out makes its way through the town in less than a day. Credence never knew that so many villagers are interested in what he is up to and they greet him with big smiles on the street. Everyone likes the teacher. And they like him. The months that follow are filled with laughing children and the light of candles and afternoons by the lake and a funny pain in Credence’ jaw because he just can’t help grinning.

He’s free. He’s not a monster any more. He’s never been. He is allowed to exist. He deserves hapiness.

anonymous asked:

Hi! I'm so happy to see the ask box is open! Before i ask my question i would like to thank you for all your hard work into making this blog! You always make my day! Now then, how would Todoroki co fess to his crush??

Oh my…oh my…goodness! (all might reference XD) thank you so much, you are so kind! Thanks for appreciating my work, it makes me happy to know I make people happy 😄 also thanks for the request, it’s really nice!

You knew he was straight forward, but you didn’t realize to what extent until he saw you one morning and abruptly said “I love you” looking at you in the eye as if he were talking about the weather. Seriously, that’s literally how it worked. You arrived to school quite early, ready for yet another day of training, and you were definitely not expecting to be welcomed in such a way. He just…appeared, he stood in front of you with crossed arms, looked at you rather strongly for a while without saying hello, and told you that he loved you.

Quite blunt, huh?

Of course you were taken aback, absolutely not ready for those words as they hit you like a heavy, silent truck you didn’t know it was coming. The only way in which he gave away his nerves, was the cute, slight blush of his cheeks. But it was easily mistaken by just another effect of the cold, since it was a snowy morning and everyone’s face was tinted with a bit of red.

“What?” you asked him to repeat himself, thinking you may had misheard or that it was a joke.

But he sounded serious and real enough when he repeated his words, and spoke another “I love you” with almost the same naturalness than before.

What could someone say before something like that?? You felt your heart beating unnaturally fast, powered by the potent look in his eyes that seemed to follow every uneasy movement yours made without losing track. It was intimidating, so much you couldn’t even formulate a proper answer.

“Am I..supposed to say something more?” he asked, biting the inner part of his cheek, silently praying for you not to notice his nerves as his feet constantly tapped the floor.

You looked at him even more puzzled than before. You just…couldn’t get the hang of the situation. Was this a confesion? What was he expecting you to say? The funny thing was tha he looked as confused as you, as if he didn’t understand your reaction.

“I don’t know…” you stuttered “is it me who should say something more?”

“Uhm, well, preferably that you like me back” he joked, chuckling nervously and scratching the back of his neck “fuck, I’m sorry…should I have bought you flowers or something? I don’t really know how this works”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“No, it’s ok” you murmured, embarrassed, not knowing how to react.

“Did I fuck up?”

“Uh? No, don’t worry, you…”

“I shouldn’t have listened to Midoriya”


He stared at the floor, looking away from you for the first time during the conversation. His arms were still crossed and his posture firm, but something in his aura gave away just how uncomfortable he was.

“Well…I asked Midoriya how I should confess to you and stuff…and he told me I should look at you in the eye and be honest…so yeah, that’s what I did”

“You fullfilled to the letter it seems” you giggled, finding it adorable he had actually asked a friend, especially someone like Deku, how to confess to you.

“What…what should I say now?” he asked, obviously anxious, his voice monotonous and dim.

You made your best as not to laugh. He was so lost it was cute. There was honestly nothing more he could say, he had already been clear enough. But you knew this was the perfect chance to make him talk, and you wouldn’t let it slide.

“Hmm, maybe you should tell me why” you suggested, shyly, and you could swear his cheeks got even more red in a fragment of second.

“Should I?” he looked so wary, yet you nodded either way and he gave a long, nervous breath “well, I love you because you are kind, strong and I really admire you. You always listen to me and…I don’t know…have you ever talked to someone and suddenly felt all warm inside?” yes, yes you had, you were feeling it right then “that’s it, to be honest, you are also very pretty…but I don’t know if that’s relevant” he shrugged, not really sure if he had just given the right answer, his heart beating so fast he didn’t know if he would be able to keep up with his composure for much longer “was that enough?”

It was more than enough. Couldn’t he see the way your eyes were wattering? Didn’t he realize your legs were shaking like crazy? Wasn’t your heartbeat heard from like a 2km radius? You totally approved the answer, you not only approved it, you loved it. Just as much as you loved him. But he was dense enough as to think he needed to confess in a certain way for you to accept him when, in reality, his mere presence was more than enough.

“Of course it’s enough” you said, taking his hand “I love you too, stupid”

His eyes widened, he was confused, yet pleased with your answer and the smile he had put on your face. He tangled his fingers with you, gently caressing the skin of your hands as a doubt formulated at the back of his mind.

“And…how do I ask you to kiss you?” he questioned, genuinely unsure.

You laughed again, taking your hands to both his cheeks, feeling his face heating up to your touch, and falling in love all over again with the sweet way in which he stared at you.

“You don’t ask…” you got closer to him, your lips almost brushing, feeling his hot breath against your mouth “…you just do it”

It didn’t matter just how dense he was, he understood the order just perfectly. And without wasting a second, his lips were softly pressed against yours.

“AWWWWW” you were interrupted by the exclamations and whistling of all class 1-A, you hadn’t realized when did they even apper but there they were, making a fuss and making Todoroki embarrassed enough to let go of you.

Still, as you were pulled into a round of girls asking you thousands of questions about it, you didn’t really mind. Because as you stared at him with the corner of your eye, recieving compliments and cheers from all the boys in the class, you knew that had been your very first kiss…but definitely not the last one.

I can’t believe i just wrote 2k words holy shit. hope you like it @freckledbastard !! i’m the sabolu anon hullo õvõ

Keep reading


Pairing: Eren/Mikasa || Rating: T  || Words: 1749 || [AO3]

Warnings: Alcohol reference (?)

A/N:  Because I need more pinning!Eren. And because I have too much time on my hands. 

It was a decision made months ago. They swapped passionate kisses for friendly, awkward hugs and had agreed to maintain their relationship only for the sake of their closest friends. But even Connie knew better than to say her name the first month following their break up. Mikasa swears she’s alright. He knows because Ymir had told him so. She, of course, called him a wuss for not asking Mikasa himself, but that’s just - not a good idea. The idea, of him and her together, is virtually impossible at this point. He supposes they are just too different from one another. Guesses that opposites can only attract for so long.

Keep reading


How’s this is going to be structured. I write a small comparison between each character because I don’t want to:

- Be over-explaining something to the point of annoyance

- Repeat the same themes

- Be not concise or clear

One thing to make clear however before I start! I am aware that their personalities have been formulated by their pasts and are ‘justified’ - not necessarily justified, but the beginning leads well to the conclusion sort of justified - by them (even if they are wrong ways to behave, etc.) As well, this is biased based on my preference in personalities (and whatever my memory can sustain of the routes, so some information may be inaccurate or can be interpreted differently by someone else), so don’t take this as 100% objective gold, which should now convince you that Mr. Vroom Vroom Sakamki is the best gosh darn vampire and person that ever was and you cannot like or love another, he is the only you must like, etc. etc. etc. Also, I am not the greatest fan of all the Mukamis other then Azusa, that has to be said. So, my review will be biased mostly likely harsher on them more. Just warning you all. Otherwise, have fun reading this long piece of shit writing! XD

Keep reading


Prompt: can u do a fanfic where Joe gets a panic attack at vidcon and only zoe knows and helps him but Caspar finds out and it’s rlly cute

Notes: Hello! This is my very first Jaspar fic so please don’t be too hard on me and don’t expect the best HAHA but I hope you guys enjoy either way. By the way, this fic is very angsty and maybe a bit sad but hopefully the fluff at the end will make it all better. Enjoy!

Keep reading

Aftershock (TOU) [TS]

Reader was dating Tim Shepard before Johnny went missing & when he dies she starts acting out (partying, fighting, etc)and Tim is trying to help her.

Warnings — swearing, alcohol, the usual.

“Ignore them,” I told Johnny as he watched the snarling Socs hurtle expletives at him. “They’re idiots.”

Johnny, my younger brother, kicked at a rock on the sidewalk. “I know that, but it just bothers me sometimes.”

I nodded in understanding. “They’ve been really bothering that Ponyboy, huh?”

Johnny nods. He was always hanging around this kid Ponyboy Curtis, which I didn’t mind compared to Dallas Winston.

Dally was my age. He was seventeen and mean. He didn’t scare me, though. Not like he did other people.

I was seventeen too and Johnnycakes was a year younger than me.

“I can’t stand these Socs,” I sighed. They got under my skin real bad. I even punched a few this one time and my boyfriend had to pick me up from school early. I got suspended, but my folks didn’t care nor even know about it. The school didn’t attempt to reach the grand Cade family. “I’ll see you at lunch, Johnny?”

“Yeah, alright.”

We started to break off in different directions for our first class, but I called his name to stop him. “I'm  sleeping at Tim’s for the next coupla’ nights, okay?”

He nodded again and I could see the hesitation. My boyfriend was the infamous Timothy Shepard.

Besides, Johnny couldn’t get mad. He had a couch reserved for him at the Curtis place. I didn’t have nothing like that!

We often settled for the vacant lot together when Tim or my friends were busy and he felt unwanted at the Curtis house.

It was actually a cozy little area with the fire and the stray cats and the stars at night.

I had mostly all smart classes. I wasn’t amazing at writing, but reading and math and science I did okay in.

Tim regretted dropping out of school his junior year. He helped me do my homework and study for tests sometimes. I was always thankful for it ‘cause my parents would never. Plus, he was pretty sharp at computation and stuff.

Like Johnny, I was fairly polite. I wasn’t as quiet as he was, though. I also never got jumped and lost to ‘em or got hit real bad.

See, I pulled a knife on the old lady before. I stayed away from them and they stayed away from me. It was just that simple. I thought maybe Johnny didn’t have the guts to fight back.

I didn’t love anyone but Johnny and Tim. I thought that was Johnny’s weakness. He loved our parents somehow, someway.

School went by quick that day.

It always did when I could look forward to seeing Tim after school. We'd been dating for only a good four or five months, but I knew I was in love. I didn’t think love existed before Tim, and I could see it in his eyes that he didn’t either.

“Baby,” I heard his voice as I exited the high school with my books tucked under my arm. I surveyed the parking lot for his kind of lanky figure, but I didn’t see the usual car. “Over here!”

Finally, I saw him leaned up against a nice truck. His curly dark hair shined and he was grinning and I kind of melted. He was so happy to see me and only me. Shoot, what was I doing with my life before I had Tim?

“Hey,” I smiled coyly before walking around to the passenger’s side. I hopped in the truck and let him finish his conversation with Two-Bit Mathews who suddenly wandered over with boys he walked home with. When his Plymouth didn’t work, anyway. Soon enough Timothy got in the truck, too. “Who's is this?“ 

When he looked confused I gestured all around me, meaning the whole damn truck. Tim laughed, "it’s my buddy’s. He don’t mind. I told him I was just comin’ to get you from school.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Tim took it as an opportunity to kiss me. Obviously I didn’t object. I have to admit it did get too intense for a kiss on the high school grounds. Especially with my hand stroking his scar, knotted in his hair. I knew something would go wrong and it did.

Tim, or maybe it was me, accidentally hit the truck’s horn. It blared loud for at least five solid seconds. And when I looked up out the windshield, my horrified little brother Johnny was only a little bit away with a grinning Two-Bit Mathews and a beet-red Ponyboy Curtis.

Tim recovered quickly and yelled out the window with a devilish smirk, “Have a good night, you guys!”

That night we stayed at a friend of Tim’s. The kid’s name was Ben and he was real nice. He didn’t even stay there for the night, anyway, and we got one of the spare bedrooms.

He was a Shepard. I guess you could call that stupid considering he wasn’t really a Shepard. Gang-wise, he was, I guess.

Lots of people said it was foolish for me to date a gang-leader, but in my eyes it was no better than dating a Curtis. Tim was organized — really organized — and he never got me involved in drama or fighting or crime. It was fine with me that we dated and no one else’s opinion really mattered.

So, yeah, I guess you could say lots of people thought I was involved with Johnny’s disappearance that took place only a night after. They thought it was my fault and that one of Tim's enemies targeted him and killed him.

And other, other people thought it was my negative influence that led to him doing something bad 'n running away.

Well, with Winston’s help and my own damn knowledge, it wasn’t hard to figure out that Johnny killed that Soc. Dallas said he did it to protect Kid Curtis but none of that mattered to me because in the end it was my fault he was gone and the people were right and my kid brother killed someone and I wasn’t there and he never thought to see me instead of Dally Winston.

I never should of called him over in that busy hallway. Telling him I planned to replace him with Tim. What the fuck was wrong with me? Couldn’t I see that we were growing apart?

We waited for what felt like months to hear anything, and Tim kept me from breaking. It was only days, really. And his job wasn’t hard, because I acted like it didn’t bother me at all. And that’s because I knew he wouldn’t die. And I was fucking wrong. I was always wrong.

“What if he doesn’t come back, Tim?” I was near tears once again. I was such a fucking mess all the damn time. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Tim.”

He kissed my head hard and forced me look into his honest-to-God beautiful blue eyes. “What could you possibly be sorry for, doll?”

I hiccupped. “Girls ain’t supposed to cry on guys like this. You could have anyone, you know. Last thing you need is me pouting around.”

And so when I found out my little brother was dead, I went a little bit crazy. I was telling myself he was alive, after all. What was I supposed to do now? I had that lie rehearsed so well I actually believed it.

I stopped picking up my girl friend’s phones to answer Timothy’s calls. I pretended not to see his borrowed truck in the back of the lot — well, when I actually attended school, that is.

Two weeks went by after I found out Johnny was dead and I had enough places to sleep out and drink all day and night that I hadn’t seen Timothy once.

To my knowledge we were still dating, but with how I was ignoring him, it didn’t seem much like it.

I was dancing on top of the bar at Buck’s, probably pretending to be a lot more intoxicated than I really was 'cause Buck had some pretty weak shit for alcohol.

The night before I was at a party way out of our territory — I probably could of been bopped for just being Tim’s girl, but I guess I’m funny enough to keep around 'cause they sure did.

And before that I bummed around The Dingo until I went to someone else’s get-together for some fun to keep me numb.

“Y/N! Y/N!” they chanted over the horrid music. I laughed too hard and danced around some more and then I tripped over my own short skirt. I didn’t notice how high that bar was. Never noticed.

I knew I could expect a baseball-sized bruise in the morning.

But the almighty Dallas Winston caught me in his arms and I rolled my eyes too much and got dizzy all over again.

“Why’re you here?” I didn’t like him very much at all. I heard from some guys that he was friends with Tim again. Absolutely revolting. That’s what that was.

He laughed darkly and I was still in his arms and it was strange. "Shoot, kid, you think I'm gonna ruin yer night? You might not wanna look by the door, dollface.“

Stupidly, my head snapped around to see Tim at the door. His jaw was clenched so tight I thought it’d break. I could only imagine the things he’d heard. I wondered if he knew I took on the dead Soc’s girlfriend only three days prior.

Dallas walked me over to him and I groaned and yelled at him and pulled away. It didn’t do much. God, I was so drunk.

But even in my drunkenness, I seemed to grasp that Tim was less than happy with me. "Hi,” I managed, studying my shoes.

You could say that in that moment I resembled a puppy dog. When I was drunk and someone was mad at me, the thought of disappointing them was unbearable.

Unless they angered me. Then I became drunk dynamite. Kind of strange, huh?

Tim told Dally to go and he did. I was kind of scared he’d break up with me, but at the same time I was just so damn tired of living without Johnny I wasn’t sure it’d even affect me any.

His stormy blue eyes drilled into mine and I got lost. His muscles exploded through his tight shirt as he firmly held onto my elbows to steady me. He was angry, but the teenage girl inside me wasn’t getting over his muscles and his intoxicating cologne.

The sound from the bar was muted and I saw only him for the first time in two horrible weeks.

“Glory, doll. What’ve you done? Where the fuck’ve you been?”


He expected me to say something but no words would leave my mouth.

My lip wobbled and I swallowed hard.

He wouldn’t stop staring at me. There was nothing to see, for Christ’s sake. I just wanted the room to stop spinning and the ground to swallow me whole.

“He’s gone,” I whispered. “He’s never coming back and I could of stopped it, couldn’t I? I just — I killed him. I killed him —”

My words all slurred together and I was talking too fast but I wasn’t crying. Not yet, anyway.

He stroked my hair and then my body racked with soundless, invisible sobs.

“C'mon, honey. We gotta get out of this place. Where do you wanna go?”

“Heaven,” I answered quickly and stupidly. “I wanna be with Johnny again.”

Tim swallowed and searched his pockets for a cigarette. Maybe he was realizing just how messed up I was.

He led me out of the place with horrid music and to his borrowed truck. “I love you, don’t you know that, kid?”

I leaned into him because I wasn’t sure I could walk straight, whispering loudly into his ear, “I wanna marry you someday.”

It was dark outside and I couldn’t see his face exactly but I could hear his raspy chuckle. “I wanna marry you too someday.”

“We should get married now,” I said. I sounded pretty sober now but I think we both knew I was far from it. Tim made sure my seatbelt was fastened. 

He really seemed like he was thinking about it. “Maybe after, Y/N.”

I was looking at the moon through the window on my side of the truck.  “After what?”

When I focused on it, the strange feathery wave sensation in my body would subside a little. Just a little. 

He sighed. “Christ, when you get over your brother and stuff. I don’t know. You don’t seem to handle death well, babe. That could really be a problem.” He winked.

He was kidding and we were laughing and then I was sleeping. He mentioned that Soc girl, the one named nicknamed after the sluttiest of fruits, and I pretended not to hear him because I think we both knew she’d be busted up for a while.

I’m partially positive that I vomited, too.

The details might be a little foggy but I know that Tim was there for me. And for that I loved him.

And no, we didn’t get married, I didn’t stop partying.

I went out and did the same exact stupid things the next night. And you know what happened?

Tim was there. Watching me, sometimes he’d join in, but usually he just rescued me. “C'mon,” he’d say, “you’ve had enough, hon.”

Everyone thought that was a dumb thing to do, but it wasn’t. Him letting me party, I mean. But you can’t change how someone mourns, can you? Besides, I’m stubborn. If he tried to stop me, I’d just stop him from stopping me, you know? And I’d destroy myself.

And if Timothy wasn’t there, I think my “grieving” process would have been eternal. And if he gave up on me or tried to change me, I think I’d be dead. Not the kind of heroic death where I’d meet my brother again. A different kind of death.



A/N: Excuse any spelling errors! Writing a Sodapop imagine which is about done, expect that soon. Feel free to request headcanons or ships in the meantime.

Shingeki! Kyojin Chuugakkou ch. 18

- Eighteenth Period: His Real Form -

Sideline: The Survey Corps troupe is hosting a Summer Training Camp!

-Summer activities! Training Camp!!-

Eren: It’s the Training Camp!!

Eren: An elegant boardinghouse……

Eren: A crystal-clear lake…

Eren: We’re surrounded by such lush nature - I didn’t think this would be such a splendid place!!

Keep reading

So my choir did some recruitment stuff over the summer and we had a bunch of new people show up who may join us.
  • One of them was a nine year old girl I'll call J for privacy's sake. She sat next to me with the other sopranos. I was acting autistic as heck (twisting my Tangle and rocking) because there were new people and things were a little out of sorts. I had the cutest conversation with her about autism.
  • Me: *Rocking and twisting my Tangle while I wait for practice to start*
  • J: *Keeps peeking over at me*
  • Me: *Notices she has Elsa on her shirt* Ooh, nice shirt. I like Elsa. *quietly sings the beginning of "Let It Go"*
  • J: *whispering* Me too! I really like Frozen. Wait, you watch cartoons? How old are you?
  • Me: I'm thirty-five. How old are you?
  • J: Nine. You still watch cartoons? Really?
  • Me: *trying not to laugh out loud* If anybody ever tells you you're too old for cartoons, remind that person that adults make 'em.
  • J: *Laughs* What's your name?
  • Me: Cyndi.
  • J: *Tells me her name*
  • Me: Nice to meet you, J. *notices John(choir director) sitting down at the piano, which is an environmental cue that practice is about to start* Oops, looks like we're gonna start.
  • Then choir practice got started and my conversation with J kind of fell by the wayside. I helped J find where she was supposed to look because she didn't know how to read or follow sheet music. I used my Tangle to point most of the time.
  • Later on, J approached me during the 15 minute break we had in the middle so people could use the restroom, get drinks and stretch their legs.
  • Me: *Doing major Tangle cranking and rocking during the break*
  • J: *Notices me moving and comes over*
  • J: What's that twisty red thing?
  • Me: It's my Tangle. It helps me stay calm.
  • J: Why are you moving so much?
  • Me: I'm autistic.
  • J: What's that?
  • Me: It's what makes me, me. You could say I'm a little different.
  • J: Different how?
  • Me: *Thinks a sec* It's like our music scores. See how I have an octavo and you have Xerox sheets?
  • J: Yeah.
  • Me: *Opens my octavo for a song and points to the Xeroxed copy on J's chair.* It's like this sheet music. See how they both show the same notes? Your music isn't bound like a book, so you have to hold it a little differently than I hold mine so it doesn't spill everywhere.
  • J: *Picks up her Xeroxed music and tries to hold it at just the bottom like an octavo and the papers bend backwards* Oh! Yeah!
  • Me: That's what an autistic brain is like. It's not bad or less, it just needs to be taken care of a little different.
  • J: Does autistic hurt?
  • Me: *Giggles* Only sometimes because I have sensitive hearing. Certain noises hurt my ears and I might look like somebody punched me. Every autistic person is different.
  • J: Is that why you don't look at me when we're talking?
  • Me: I am looking at you, I'm just not looking at your eyes. Most autistic people don't look people in the eyes because it feels a little bit scary. I'm looking at your face, but not at your eyes. I'm looking at *points at my own mouth* your mouth.
  • J: *Grins* You're so weird!
  • Me: Thanks! *sticks out tongue, laughs*
  • J: What's it feel like?
  • Me: Sorry, what?
  • J: What's autistic feel like?
  • Me: Hmmm... *thinking of a comparison a nine year old can relate to* ...kinda like I want to pay attention to everything at the same time, especially in places with lots of talking like this. Remember how muddled up the tenors and altos sounded when they messed up that line in the "Holy, Holy"?
  • J: *nods*
  • Me: That's what a lot of people talking can sound like to me. I can't make sense of what people are trying to say to me when there's a lot of noise. *Speaks quieter on purpose* Can you understand what I'm saying if I talk quieter than everybody else?
  • J: What?
  • Me: *smiles* I said can you understand what I'm saying if I talk quieter than everybody else? Another funny thing with me is I can think of a bunch of words to say about thinks I like or know a lot about, but I can't think of any words to say if people start discussing something I'm not interested in, like political stuff. That's when I get real quiet and start daydreaming a lot.
  • J: *gets real serious looking* Do people die from being autistic?
  • Me: Nah! Some autistic people need a lot of help with everything like eating, taking a shower or putting on clothes. Some of us, like me, can get dressed, eat and take showers, but I need somebody to drive me places because I can't pay attention to everything you have to pay attention to when you drive, I can't cook because the measurements get really confusing for me and I have trouble cleaning a messy room without some help. Lessee...some of us can't talk at all or can only say a few words-- that's called being nonverbal or nonspeaking. Nonverbal autistic people might use other ways to talk, like sign language, computers or pictures. Sometimes it can take a long time to figure out a way to communicate, but autistic people who can't talk are still smart. Not being able to talk doesn't mean somebody can't think or understand.
  • J: Ooh, okay, I'll try to remember that. What's that wiggle you're doing right now?
  • Me: *Realizes I'm rocking on my chair* The moving around I do is called stimming and it's something that helps me make sense of all this noise. I might have trouble talking if it gets too much louder in here. I may get clumsy too, so sorry in advance if I bump into you a lot. ((Clumsiness is due to my variable proprioception.))
  • J: I'll watch out so you don't fall down.
  • Me: *So amused by this cute kid* I don't think I'll actually fall, but thanks!
  • J: *sits down and picks up her folder* Did you get autistic because you hit your head?
  • Me: *rocks some more* No, people are born autistic and it's a lifelong thing. There are some quack doctors who think vaccines cause it, but they were wrong. There are other quack doctors who think it can be 'cured' but most autistic people don't want that. We're happy being who we are. Being autistic isn't bad, it's just different.
  • J: How do you spell autistic?
  • Me: Like this. *Writes it on a Post-it note and gives it to her* Now if you look it up on the internet, make sure you avoid anything by this group-- *Writes Autism Speaks on the Post-it too* --because they want you to think being autistic is a bad, scary thing when it's not. They want to make it go away because they think people who can't talk or take care of themselves are suffering when they aren't.
  • J: That's so mean!
  • Me: Yeah! They're mean! Anything that has to do with lighting it up blue and blue puzzle pieces is related to Autism Speaks. That wannabe charity is bad news for autistic people. Autism Speaks makes us feel bad about being who we are. *Writes "Autism Speaks is mean!" on the Post-it note*
  • J: *puts Post-it note in her pencil case* I won't click anything by them.
  • Me: Great! You're already helping me a lot by avoiding Autism Speaks. Oops, here comes John. Breaktime's over.
  • John: Doing okay with all the noise, Cyndi?
  • Me: Yup! *Tips folder by accident, drops my music EVERYWHERE* Aaaaaaaaaand there's me being a klutz.
  • J: Oops! *Helps me pick it up*
  • Me: Thanks.
  • Then we went back to practice. I was this kiddo's first encounter with autism and I hope she stays around with the choir so she sees it's not a horrible person-stealing disease.

anonymous asked:

Cherik vampire au where Charles is the sweet vamp and Erik is a grumpy human

oh yeah: I took ‘grumpy human’ to only mean ‘not a vampire’


Erik takes one look at Charles Xavier, welcome to the building and how do you do, and slams the door shut in his face.

He knows a vampire when he sees one. They stand out to him, in his sixth sense of metal, because at any given point of time a vampire is bound to be far fuller of iron-rich blood than the normal, average human or mutant, so they’re sort of like torches to Erik amongst the general population. He’s been able to sense this one all day, pinging on his radar while he hauled up furniture and boxes of all his worldly possessions (five boxes in total, he’s never been very sentimental) so he’s actually been waiting for this all day.

And true to form, the vampire had knocked on his door as soon as the last sliver of the setting sun sank down below the horizon.

“It’s the jello, isn’t it?” the vampire calls amiably through the door as Erik walks away. “It’s too much. Well, I’ll let you get settled and try again later!”

Keep reading

Blueberries (Part Three)

Pairing(s): Cas x Reader
Prompt/Summary: (Based on request) Cas and the reader’s relationship develops.
Reader Gender: female
Word Count: 2,170
Warnings: none I can think of
Sorry it took me so long to post! As always, let me know what you think!

Blueberries Masterlist

Keep reading

Fic: Make Me Someone New - a Carmilla Webseries AU: Part 1.1

Pairing: Hollstein
Rating: T
Word Count: 7566

Summary: Everyone knows how soulmates go. There’s a soul out there that is indefinably and inseparably bound to you for the rest of time, meeting in new lifetimes to relearn each other, only to have Death take you up in the unending cycle once again. Sounds great for a human. Not so much for a vampire. Death forgot you. Death left you to remember her over and over and over.

Part 1: Being Human

Keep reading