i like their 'real facts' that they put on the inside of the lid

Trouble in Canada // 2

a/n: You all have been so patient and I know I’m a bit late (4 months late soz about that). Every single one of you have been so amazing with the support of this, and it blows my mind every time I get a notification that TiC got another note. And when I posted earlier today that I was posting it, I absolutely loved the response I got in my inbox.  It made my heart incredibly happy and with each message that came in, not gonna lie, i teared up a bit. You all have been so lovely and good sports (especially when i posted that fake TiC2 WHAT A TIME). So from the bottom of my heart, thank you for all the support. I have met some of the most incredible people through TiC and I cherish every single one of you. I feel so emotional posting this, but you all finally deserve the second part to probably the most angsty piece I have ever written (and will ever write omg).  So, please enjoy the second and final installment to Trouble in Canada :)

THANK YA TO MY LOVELY @whitechocolateperfection for reading over this and giving me confidence :) you’re the best and i love you a whole lot 

Trouble in Canada (1)  |  Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

“We need to talk,”

        Those four words held a weight so heavy that you lost your grip on your tea.  Your mug dropped to the floor, shattering in pieces and tea spilling all over the hardwood floor.  You immediately went to pick up the broken pieces.  On your knees, you picked up the shards of glass as Shawn was stood in the same exact position; not moving a single bone in his body to help you.

        Collecting all the tiny shards in your hand you swiftly moved past Shawn to go throw the pieces out in the kitchen.  You opened the trash bin, and right as you were about to throw out the broken mug, Shawn’s voice interrupted your movements, “Is that the mug I got you?  The one from our first Valentine’s day together?”

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[ insomniac ]

words; 11.7k (this is a fic i wrote like 4 months ago, never got around 2 it posting lol) 

genre; mostly the fluffs, first kiss n stuff like that :-) i guess there is some suggestive stuff but its quite light. 

synopsis; wonwoo is the strangely quiet boy that sits in the back of class and would rather be reading than listening to the lessons. his appearance is also quite questionable, with dark rings under his eyes and disheveled hair. 

he’s earned the nickname, insomnia, and you’re curious to discover if the quiet boy matches what everyone seems to call him. 


There is nothing but silence, a still unsettling silence that sticks to every corner of the room as watery streaks of moonlight bathe the boards of oakwood. A clock sits on the bedside table, the black numbers being highlighted by the bright blue that lays behind them. At this time, the world is quiet, the only sound being the blood rushing through your ears or the steady heart beat thumping in your chest.

A bed is placed snuggly into the corner of the room, a thick comforter lying neatly over the old mattress that carries the stains of spilt coffee and tea. Nothing is out of place, all the clothes are folded with precision and tucked away inside the dresser, every book on the shelf has its spine turned out, each series perfectly aligned with the next. It might even look as if no one ever stayed inside the room for it was always too clean and organized, or maybe whoever slept there had too much time on their hands. 

Just as the digits on the clock struck 3am sharp, the door handle slowly swiveled and a figure emerged from the hallway, a tall glass of water curled in its fingers. After sitting down on the mattress and taking a very long sip of its beverage, the figure shifted to the centre of the bed and crossed its arms over its knees, back slouching and tufts of ash coloured hair falling carelessly over its eyes.


Noise. Why was it always so noisy?

The hallways acted like a speaker, amplifying every little clink or clank down the long corridors until it faded away. Only a few more weeks left of school, only a few more weeks left of angsty students who were constantly slamming their lockers and scuffing their shoes, only a few more weeks of fed up teachers who couldn’t even bother to yell at their class because they knew it was worthless. 

You could hardly wait to get away from it all and finally be able to isolate yourself back into silence, sweet, sweet silence. After navigating your way through the morning crowd of zombies that moved slower than molasses, you set your heap of books down and pushed in your earbuds. You liked being alone in class, before the lights were turned on and curtains were tugged open. You could just slouch at your desk and let your foot tap against the tiles while listening to something you actually wanted to hear and not the brainless conversations of the people around you.

Then the door was opening, and a streak of yellow light washed over the floor for a few seconds before disappearing. Another student was here, though he hardly looked like a student. His frame was tall and lean, prominent collar bones resting under his milky skin tone while messy ash tinted hair almost covered his eyes. 

Yes his eyes, they were dark, very dark, like someone dropped a splash of black food colouring into his irises. Discoloured circles lay under his lash line, like the result of someone who hadn’t slept in weeks while his attire consisted of a loose long sleeved white shirt and dark grey sweatpants tucked into worn out sneakers. His name was Wonwoo, but everyone called him Insomnia because that’s exactly how he looked. Like someone who couldn’t sleep.

Wonwoo stared blankly across the empty classroom as he readjusted the books swept under his arm, his hollow gaze sweeping right over you like you weren’t even there. Suddenly the bell began to ring and before you knew it, the zombies were flooding into the class, their voices still drowsy from the morning atmosphere as they plopped down lifelessly into their seats. Everyone was sitting except for Wonwoo, he just stood there with his usual blank stare, his back slightly slouched while he remained like a statue.

“Wake up Insomnia and take a seat already.” Someone called from the back of the class, but Wonwoo didn’t take a seat until Mrs. Kang the English teacher walked in, her heels clicking against the tiles while she pushed up the glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose. She patted his should while slipping past him to get to her desk and it wasn’t until then that he finally moved, his eyes flickering slightly before finding an empty desk near the back. Wonwoo was just as fascinating as he was strange, and one day you wanted to have a real conversation with him just to see what was going on inside his head.


“You’re bringing a guy over?”

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Who wears short shorts?

Hello, Love bugs!

Dan X Reader

warnings- Smut, Swears.

May you please do one where the reader likes wearing short shorts around the house and dan and Phil think they’re teasing them? Smut at the end maybe? Thnx x x - Anon


It was finally spring and you were going to take full advantage. You had pulled out the shorts that you had to hide away for two seasons. You and the boys were going to hang out to enjoy the spring by going to get a coffee and then sit indoors with the windows open while doing some work. 

Walking to the boy’s door you couldn't help the smirk on your face. It was a beautiful day and you were about to spend it with two cuties. You and Phil had been friends forever. After he introduced you to Dan it was like he was like you had found your long lost friend. You swore the two of you were best friends in a past life.You called Phil to tell him to bring his ass downstairs.

“Moshi Moshi!” You shook your head even if he couldn’t see it he had a feeling you were giving him the look through the phone.

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looking out for you

pairing: taehyung x reader | soulmates
word count: 9.2k
     → i didn’t even know soulmates existed before you. but i know it’s real because i feel it. it’s like my heart sees you and it just kinda knows you.

You were presenting in class the first time he infiltrated your vision with silk-like strokes of vivid colors. An odd twinge in your heart erupted and it felt as if someone had a grip around your throat, your legs giving in beneath you, your hands shakily finding their way to the table for support. As if through a blur, you heard your name being called out and you looked upon the class as specks of brown hues emerged, specks that hadn’t been there before.

It was a desperate attempt to stay upright as you focused on steadying your breath, the vivid hallucinations making it all that much harder when the specks took shapes and your heartrate boomed. Adrenaline was pulsing through your body and you saw the terrible posture, the slouched spine and the coffee hues that had turned to soft strands of hair. It was a boy, but he wasn’t from here. You saw the books in front of him, faint colors of a room surrounding him, an entire different reality set around his frame. Your lungs were fighting for air and you were irrevocably wavering when a choked scream finally fell from your lips and the figure turned, the widest set of scared eyes looking right back at you.

Seconds after that, you fainted.

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A Game for Those Who Seek to Find a Way to Leave Their World Behind

Summary: In which Dan finds a strange board game and ends up playing it (and releasing its horrors) with his best friend Carrie and arch enemy, Phil.

Word Count: 6.9k

TW: uhh there’s just some kind of horrifying things in there so idk good luck

Genre: angst? i guess? but it’s a happy end it’s like good angst

this is a thing now because i rewatched jumanji today and felt inspired (if you haven’t watched the movie it’s literally amazing you can find it online….. completely….. not illegal… ahem)(you can still read this even if you haven’t watched the movie but it’ll be better if you have probably)

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panicatthe-bands  asked:

Can you please do number 148? ☺️

THIS IS REALLY LONG BUT THIS PROMPT WAS REALLY GOOD! I HOPE YOU ENJOY! OMFG THIS ISN’T EVEN A DRABBLE IT’S A FULL FIC, IT’S OVER 1k, LUCKY YOU LOL! Here’s #148: “Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”


The best thing about having a best friend is the fact you’re constantly with said best friend. That being said if Stiles could move in with Derek he totally would because their best friendom has reached epic proportions.

Sometimes Stiles will come over after school and Derek will be out of the room and Talia straight up asks him if he can help with the dishes. Derek leaves only to return with two plates for dinner with what Stiles likes to call the “optimum portion” on his plate. His father has inside jokes with Derek that Stiles will never understand. Hell, they’ve taken showers at each other’s houses and when they fail to have a certain clothing item they just take it from the other.

So yeah, be jealous, Derek is his best friend in the whole world.

Of course they stepped on each other’s toes, fought about the world’s most stupid shit, and occasionally were too sassy for the world to handle. Laura and Cora call them an old married couple much to their dismay. Except there really isn’t another way to describe them, it’s a pretty good comparison.

However they’re seventeen, Stiles is a man with needs.

…Derek needs.

The transition between sophomore and junior year did wonders for Derek. He hit the whole puberty thing like a pro. Skipped the acne train, managed to miss the squeaky voice memo, and ran straight into hot adult mode. He’s tall, dark, stubbly (or beardy depending on the day), and built like the hulk. So yeah…Derek got hot and Stiles was secretly all about that. Stiles was only human and his dick can’t control itself when it comes to his best friend.

Long story short, the whole sharing a bed thing had stopped too. Which sucked because Derek before and after puberty is actually a furnace and Stiles runs cold naturally. It worked really well Now? Now Stiles can’t deal with Derek’s soft sleeping puppy face combined with his shirtless chest in the mornings. At least not in the same bed.

While it pains him and Derek has questioned him on this, the solution was simple. Derek had a bed in his room, hence the name bedroom, but he also had this shitty futon for their late night gaming/movie extravaganzas. That was it, that was the solution, Stiles sleeps on the shitty futon that is too short for him now and his legs always fall off while Derek gets the bed.

Tonight they’re at Derek’s house, and it’s quiet with Cora at some weekend camp thing and Laura off in college. So it was just them and they’d been semi working on their separate econ papers and just hanging out while stuffing their faces with junk food. The last time Stiles checked the clock it was just after two in the morning, but that felt like forever ago and his eyes have been shut for a while as sleep welcomed him.

This…this is when weird shit happened and he thought it was a dream the first time it occurred.

It started with his legs, which were already half off the futon. Hands grasped his calves and put them straight. Then he was draped in the red fuzzy blanket the Hales kept around just for him even though it was threadbare and on its last leg. For the grand finale there was always this pause before he got a kiss on the forehead.

That’s right. A kiss on the forehead.

From Derek.

He was so done with it. Well…not like actually done done but he was tired of just getting them when Derek assumed he was already asleep. He wanted them to be real. He wanted them on other places than his forehead like his mouth, his chest, his—

Just lots of places, alright? Is that too much for him to ask?

So tonight, when his forehead was greeted with the soft brush of Derek’s lips he finally worked up the courage to crack his eyes open despite the lids feeling like a million pounds. Their eyes met and he watched as Derek’s face and ears were suddenly alive with red splotchy patches of embarrassment.

“Uhh–”

“Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?” Stiles asked softly, rising so he was resting back on his elbows.

Derek stood there, and for a second the dorky shy kid he once knew was back, “I–um, do you want me to kiss you when you’re not sleeping?”

“Is that even a question? I mean I’ve kind of had a thing for you since freshman year big guy, but…if these were just best friend kisses then ignore me. That was a sleepy babble, don’t even acknowledge my words,” Stiles said.

There was this shift in shy dorky Derek, because suddenly that was replaced with this confident looking super hot version of Derek that Stiles had never seen but could totally get used to. For a beat they searched each other’s faces to see if there was any sign of hesitation or unsureness.

There was none.

Derek did this weird bending down thing and Stiles did this awkward scooting thing until they met in the middle. Hands cupped his face and his own ended up wound in Derek’s shirt, their heads tilted just so as their lips finally met. There wasn’t the fireworks like in movies but it felt damn good to kiss Derek. Of course Derek pulled him to his feet because the weird angle got to be too much.

Standing up only deepened the kiss and holy crap this could possibly top his love for curly fries. His love for kissing Derek. There needs to be a fanclub for this, obviously he’d be president and the only member, but still. The hint of facial hair Derek had tickled his mouth and chin, their tongues were suddenly involved and mingling, and it was just good.

So very awesomely good.

Eventually they pulled apart because oxygen, but they didn’t let go.

“Does this mean those weren’t best friend kisses or…?” Stiles asked, voice a little hoarse.

Derek smirked, “they were. You know it’s okay to be in love with your best friend right?”

“Well…in that case I love you and our best friend kisses.”


ASK ME A PROMPT FOR THE DRABBLE CHALLENGE!

No More Hiding // Mark Tuan

Originally posted by younggjaebum

Pairing: Mark x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary//Request: After breaking up with Mark a few months ago, you hide yourself away from him to try and forget about him. But after becoming stranded in the city due to a snowstorm, you find yourself in his apartment with all of the emotions and feelings still present in both your hearts.

Please note that this scenario mentions feelings of heavy relationship insecurities and feelings of not being good enough for someone.

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franceschee  asked:

My birthday is April 28th. I don't maintain a blog on Tumblr though. I created an account just to follow the fabulous fellow Everlarkers here. If you can, I will take anything I can get but if possible, some smut please. *bambi eyes*

Happy birthday! Here is a little something special cooked up just for you by @katnissdoesnotfollowback. Have a wonderful day and enjoy the read!


Have Your Cake and Eat It Too

Happiest of birthdays to you! I hope you enjoy what I’ve cooked up for you and it adds to to your celebration. Thanks to @peetabreadgirl for prereading this sucker.  <3 KDNFB

TWENTY-FIVE

“I’m gonna be late. Please tell me you made some hot water for tea this morning,” Peeta says to his brother as he rushes into the kitchen and tosses his bag on the counter.

“Gotta move faster, old man,” Ryen teases, but lowers his newspaper enough to point to the kettle sitting on a silicone trivet.

“You’re two years older than me,” Peeta grumbles, not bothering to look at what he is sure is a self-satisfied smirk on his brother’s face, choosing instead to focus on pouring the water into his travel mug and dropping in a tea bag to steep.

“Yes, but nothing good happens after twenty-five. They expect you to be an adult after twenty-five. For real,” Ryen complains and Peeta curses as the hot liquid splashes over the edges onto his hand when he moves it a little too forcefully towards the spot where he left the lid.

“Graham would disagree,” he mutters sarcastically as he shakes the tea droplets off his hand and wipes the residue on a towel. His skin stings, but he doesn’t have time to deal with it.

“Graham is an idiot,” Ryen returns, but he doesn’t say the rest of what they’re both thinking.

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Boy Next Door (Part 1)

Summary:  You left your keys to your apartment, so you decided to sleep at the hallway. Only to find yourself waking up in a room that looks like your apartment.

Pairing:  Steve x Reader

Warning/s:  None. Fluff

A/N: This is for @bionic-buckyb ‘s 5k AU drabble challenge! CONGRATULATIOOOONS! Yey. I like joining challenges like this because it gives me a reason and an excuse to write fics. Plus, being given a topic and doing anything to relate to that the topic is enjoyable for me. Hehehe. Anyways, I chose the prompt ‘Neighbor’ thus the title. (I’m sorry the title sounds so cliche, I can’t think of anything else tbh) So I hope you enjoy!!

Number of Words: 915


The hot coffee flowing through your throat is probably the only reason why you still have the strength to walk your way home from work. The company you’re working at is handling this big project and you’ve been working overtime since last month. Thankfully enough, tomorrow will be the last day of the overtime work (without pay by the way).

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anonymous asked:

I think Sokka's quest for identity is one of the most interesting things about him. What it means to be a man, to be useful and to be acknowledged is an interesting central conflict for a supporting character. What do you think S3 Sokka believes it takes to be a man. I think he's learnt to intercede and mediate issues in his family and to make tough choices. What else can you think of?

Sokka: Now men, it’s important that you show no fear when you face a firebender. In the Water Tribe, we fight to the last man standing. For without courage, how can we call ourselves men?

Another excellent question! Sokka’s quest for identity is intrinsically linked to his quest for manliness, because if you’ll recall, Sokka was not able to become a man by Water Tribe custom before he was nominally put in charge of the tribe:

Bato: How about you, Sokka? You must have some good stories from your first time ice-dodging?
Katara: He never got to go. Dad left before he was old enough.
Bato: Oh, I forgot, you were too young.
Aang: What’s ice-dodging?
Bato: It’s a rite of passage for young water tribe members.

But while Katara was helping with the chores, keeping her family together and helping to deliver babies, Sokka was left adrift, without a paternal example to emulate for two of his teenage years. War never came to his doorstep, so he resorts to “training” the kindergarten crowed. And notice that Katara (and likely the other members of his tribe) don’t take this seriously:

Katara: Ugh, I’m embarrassed to be related to you! Ever since Mom died I’ve been doing all the work around camp while you’ve been off playing soldier!

Playing soldier. Katara’s right: that’s exactly what Sokka has been doing, because the rigid gender expectations of being a man don’t allow him to do anything else. One Aang arrives and upends Sokka’s world, his identity as a would-be man collides with the reality of the war and the people around him.

The Four Parts of Being a Man (by Sokka)

1. Leader

Sokka : I know you all want to fly, but my instincts tell me we should play it safe this time and walk.
Katara: Who made you the boss?
Sokka: I’m not the boss—I’m the leader.
Katara : You’re the leader? But your voice still cracks!
Sokka: I’m the oldest and I’m a warrior. So…I’m the leader!

Katara: You’re hurt. Badly. You can’t fight anymore. 
Hakoda: Everyone’s counting on me to lead this mission, Katara. I won’t let them down. 
Sokka: Can’t you heal him any faster? 
Katara: I’m doing everything I can. 
Sokka: I’ll do it.
Katara: No offense Sokka but you’re not exactly Mr. Healing Hands.
Sokka: No.  I’ll lead the invasion force. 
Katara: Don’t be crazy, Sokka.
Sokka: Maybe I am a little crazy but the eclipse is about to start and we need to be up that volcano by the time it does.
Hakoda:  You can do this. I’m proud of you, son. 
Katara: I still think you’re crazy but I’m proud of you too. 

Sokka’s father is the chief, so it makes sense that being a man implies being a leader. But before his adventure, Sokka has only a nebulous idea of what that really means. Worse, he seems to think that being a man makes him a leader, instead of being a leader making him a man. When he first tries to assert his authority in “Jet”, he is met with ridicule:

Aang: Walking stinks! How do people go anywhere without a flying bison?
Katara: I don’t know Aang. Why don’t you ask Sokka’s instincts—they seem to know everything.
Sokka: Ha ha. Very funny.
Aang: I’m tired of carrying this pack.
Katara: You know who you should ask to carry it for a while? Sokka’s Instincts!
Aang: That’s a great idea! Hey, Sokka’s Instincts, would you mind—
Sokka: Okay, okay—I get it.

As so often happens, Sokka has to adapt to the situation. “Jet” is about a boy who, although a good leader in most senses, leads his team astray into murder and mayhem. Sokka, even though he is a novice, realizes innocent lives are on the line and warns the townspeople before the dam explodes. He didn’t expect to be a leader at the moment, but he didn’t fail when it really mattered. Throughout the series, his tactical and strategic successes accumulate until the entire GAang relies on him to plan their missions. And on “The Day of Black Sun”, despite his fumbling speech beforehand, Sokka takes the reins of the mission and performs admirably.

Aang: It’s over. The Fire Lord is probably long gone. Far away on some remote island where he’ll be safe during the eclipse.
Sokka: No. My instincts tell me he wouldn’t go too far. He would have a secret bunker. Somewhere he could go so it’ll be safe during a siege but still be close enough to lead his nation.
Toph: If it’s an underground secret bunker we’re looking for, I’m just the girl to find it. 

No one’s laughing at Sokka’s instincts now.

2. Protector

Katara : Sokka, you’re making a mistake. 
Sokka: No! I’m keeping my promise to Dad. I’m protecting you from threats like him! 

Illusion Yue: You didn’t protect me.

Sokka’s mother was murdered when he was very young, and there was nothing he could do about it. He knows from how devastated his father was and how driven he became to help the war effort that being a man must mean protecting people—especially the women in your life. Sokka protects Katara on multiple occasions from threats real (Jet, Mai) and imagined (Aang, Appa). Protecting Katara is his way of protecting the mother he couldn’t save as a boy. And his inability to protect Yue from sacrificing herself cuts him deeply. He overcompensates by trying to shield Suki from everything:

Suki:  Look, I know you’re just trying to help, but I can take care of myself. 
Sokka: I know you can. 
Suki: Then why are you acting so over protective?
Sokka: It’s so hard to lose someone you care about.  Something happened at the North Pole, and I couldn’t protect someone. I don’t want anything like that to ever happen again.

In the end, Sokka learns how to be protect the people he cares about without stifling them. His shielding of Toph in the finale is very similar to his protecting Katara in the pilot:

But there’s one key difference: in the pilot, Sokka thought of Katara as someone who is more in need of protection as a girl. In the finale, Sokka recognizes that Toph can’t see the falling shards of metal, but respects her fighting ability over and over:

Sokka: Did I mention how sweet it was that you invented metalbending?

Sokka: I am so glad we added you to the group!

3. Warrior

Even more than being a leader, being a warrior defines being a man in the Water Tribe. And no wonder; with decades of being raided by the ruthless Fire Nation, and waterbenders being increasingly scarce, the South would have had to rely more and more on brute strength to drive off the invaders. A warrior is also the one thing Sokka is most insecure about because it implies a certain skillset that he was too young to receive full training in. Not to mention, his sister is a waterbender and he is not. Witness this exchange from “The Warriors of Kyoshi”:

Sokka:  Who are you? Where are the men who ambushed us? 
Suki:  There were no men. We ambushed you. Now tell us, who are you and what are you doing here? 
Sokka:  Wait a second, there’s no way that a bunch of girls took us down. 

Although gender roles are fairly rigid in the Southern Water Tribe, the Sokka from the very beginning of the series feels the constant need to reinforce being a warrior as a “manly” pursuit and puts Katara down for being a girl. I am reminded of Iroh’s speech to Zuko:

Iroh: Prince Zuko, pride is not the opposite of shame, but its source.

Iroh: True humility is the only antidote to shame.

Sokka’s status as a nonbender is often a source of shame for him. He is treated differently by bending masters:

Master Pakku: Sokka.  Take care, son. 

And even his own teammates:

Toph: We can take ‘em. Three on three.
Sokka: Actually, Toph, there’s four of us.
Toph: Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t count you. You know, no bending and all.
Sokka:  I can still fight!
Toph: Okay. Three on three plus Sokka.

This leads him to act proud of his manliness, an attribute that he needs no training or bending to have. He even tries to get Aang to act “manlier” and not answer to “Twinkletoes”. In the end, though, he confesses the truth about how he feels:

Sokka: Look, I appreciate the effort, but the fact is each of you is so amazing and so special, and I’m not. I’m just the guy in the group who’s regular. 

But Sokka is special, and as the series goes on, he proves his mettle with a balance of outlandish inventiveness and logical practicality:

Sokka: See, the problem with the old war balloon was you could get it airborne, but once you did, it just kept going.  You could put a hole in the top, but then all the hot air would escape. So the question became, how do you keep a lid on hot air? 
Katara: Ugh, if only we knew. 
Sokka: A lid is actually the answer. If you control the hot air, you control the war balloon. 
Katara: Hmm. That’s actually pretty smart. 


Sokka: I need a plan of this machine. Some schematics that show what the inside looks like. Then we can find it’s weak points. 
Aang: Where are we gonna get something like that What are you doing! Someone’s gonna hear us! 
Sokka:  That’s the point. I figure a machine this big needs engineers to run it, and when something breaks…
Katara: They come to fix it. 

He overcomes his insecurities as a warrior by being true to himself.

Piandao: Sokka, when you first arrived, you were so unsure. You even seemed down on yourself. But I saw something in you right away. I saw a heart as strong as a lion turtle, and twice as big. And as we trained, it wasn’t your skills that impressed me.  No, it certainly wasn’t your skills.  You showed something beyond that.  Creativity, versatility, intelligence… these are the traits that define a great swordsman. And these are the traits that define you.  You told me you didn’t know if you were worthy, but I believe that you are more worthy than any man I have ever trained. 

4. Father

Sokka can show how brave he is, how creative he is, and how much of a leader he’s become. But in the end, he measures his identity as a man by his father’s example:

Aang: Sokka, that speech wasn’t your moment of truth. That was just public speaking and nobody’s really good at that.
Sokka: My Dad is. He explained the plan perfectly and inspired everyone. Like a real leader should. 
Aang: Look, your moment of truth isn’t going to be in front of some map. It’s going to be out there, on the battlefield. 

Unlike with Zuko, Sokka’s confidence in his father is fully justified. As he grows and matures, he becomes, not a copy of his father, but his own person. He learns that he can be a warrior without putting others down, and he can assert authority without being pigheaded. He can trust in his own abilities, regardless of how skilled everyone else is around him. And Hakoda validates Sokka’s identity in every respect.

As a protector:

Hakoda: Sokka…
Sokka: I’m coming with you.
Hakoda: You’re not old enough to go to war, Sokka, you know that.
Sokka: I’m strong! I’m brave! I can fight! Please, Dad!
Hakoda: Being a man is knowing where you’re needed the most, and for you right now that’s here protecting your sister.
Sokka: I don’t understand.
Hakoda: Someday you will. I’m going to miss you so much.

As a warrior:

Hakoda: Ready to go knock some Fire Nation heads?
Sokka:  You don’t know how much this means to me dad. I’ll make you proud, and I’ll finally prove to you what a great warrior I am.
Hakoda:  Sokka, you don’t have to prove anything to me.  I’m already proud of you, and I’ve always known you were a great warrior.
Sokka
: Really?
Hakoda: Why do you think I trusted you to look after our tribe when I left?

As a leader:

Sokka: No. I’ll lead the invasion force. 
Katara: Don’t be crazy, Sokka.
Sokka: Maybe I am a little crazy but the eclipse is about to start and we need to be up that volcano by the time it does.
HakodaYou can do this. I’m proud of you, son. 

And as a man.

Hakoda: Bato, get these mines loaded up. The rest of you men, prepare for battle! 
Sokka: Uh, what should I do, Dad?
Hakoda: Aren’t you listening? I said the rest of you men get ready for battle.

Sokka will be a fantastic father to his own children someday, no matter what LOK might imply.

WE DO knot ALWAYS LOVE YOU Part 12 full translation

Marriage Registration

4

pages 129-137

6th Division Barracks - Lieutenant’s room.

After they finished submitting their documents to the Higher Order Spirit Rank Administration Bureau earlier than expected, they had quite some time left until the Noble Assembly reception counter was opened which they had to visit next, Renji who was accompanied by Rukia, came to pack things up at his private quarters.

“You haven’t tidied up at all!?”

As soon as she opened the (fusuma) sliding screen, Rukia was dumbfounded​ by the disastrous scene before her.

Surrounding the futon that was laid out at the centre of the room, clothes, books, a soccer ball to muscle training goods, every possible item was scattered about in utter chaos.

“It’s because I was occupied one way or another It couldn’t be helped you know!? There’s a box over there, so you can gradually pack everything in however you want”

“It’s okay to do it however we want? But shouldn’t we consider sorting it out……”

“Nah, right now speed is essential! We’ll sort everything out at our new home!”

Whilst wondering whether or not that would be the reality, Rukia began packing things up off of the floor and into the box.

Officially seated members who are 9th seat or above, are given private rooms within the squad barracks. Most people go to sleep and wake up there, however people wishing to live outside the squad barracks are given a class of housing appropriate to their station. No more than one room of a housing complex is rented out to those up to 3rd seat, but when it comes to captains and vice captains, they are provided with detached housing large enough to be called ‘mansions’.

Until now, Renji was living at the squad barracks, Rukia at the Kuchiki mansion, after the establishment of their marriage they will both utilise that system and move into a mansion together built in the central first sector.

“This looks okay! I’ll tidy up bit by bit later myself. Thanks, Rukia!”

“This is……enough? ……alright”

To Rukia, the place still seemed like it was cluttered, but she convinced herself it’s good enough if the person himself says it’s okay.

“There’s still a little time. Drink some tea or……”

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Big Brother

Anon Prompt: “Hey! Could I get a jugx sister!reader where he finds out she’s having a hard time at school with the other kids and has been for awhile but she didn’t want him to worry about her or look at her as weak, and then he finds her getting picked on by a football player and he goes off on them?”

A/N: You sure can!

Sometimes you hated the fact that your Mom had taken Jellybean with her instead of you and Jughead; leaving you with your alcoholic father.

It broke your heart that you were left behind but you knew you had to stay for Jughead, who had decided to take care of F.P and make sure he was okay while your Mom made sure Jellybean was safe.
You were family and that’s what you did, you stayed together no matter what.

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X-Files Fic: D’un Nouvel Oeil, Chapter Eight

Previous chapters: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven





ORADOUR-SUR-GLANE, HAUTE-VIENNE, FRANCE
FEBRUARY 1944


Shortly after sunrise, Scully gives up on sleeping any longer and pulls herself out of bed, Mulder following behind her.  She hangs a sign on the cafe’s front door, informing her patrons that the restaurant will be closed for the day, and with Mulder by her side, she begins the long walk out of town to her mother’s farm.  Apprehensive about what she’ll find when they get there, she’s silent for the entire journey, and Mulder, wisely, does not push her to talk.

She’s relieved to see, as they approach the farm, that the animals are all still in their proper places: Philippe the draft horse is in his paddock along with the goats, the chickens are pecking about the yard, and when Scully peers into the barn, she sees that the farm hands have already gotten a start on the morning milking, even without her mother there to supervise.  She and Mulder take stools and settle in to help at once, and for a brief time, Scully simply concentrates on the task at hand, trying not to think about the fact that yesterday, Maggie had been sitting on the stool Mulder now occupies.  Her mother’s absence is a constant knife in her side, a loss felt so keenly that it makes her physically ill.

With the milking done, Scully arranges with the farm hands to make sure that all of the tasks once done by Maggie will be taken over, that the animals will get fed and watered, the cows will be milked, the eggs will be collected, and Philippe will be brought into the stable on cold nights.  And finally, when she can put it off no longer, Scully ventures cautiously into the farmhouse.

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“Insomnia” - One Shot

Where you just can’t fall asleep.

Rating: M (Smut)

It was insane. The fact that you were waking up, wide awake, at 3:42 in the morning after an incredibly long day with Harry, exploring his world and then coming home to a seriously long fucking session – here you are, wide awake.

           Tossing and turning, you turned to face him, and noticed his chest. The moonlight grazed over his big chest muscles, the blanket covering just a bit of his butterfly. He had a king sized bed, but still – the span of his body, and how he slept with all four limbs stretched out, made you giggle a bit.

           You wanted to wake him up, to talk to him, to quit being bored of scrolling through your phone and social media, three times over, but you knew that waking him probably wasn’t a good idea. Waking a sleeping baby is never a good idea.

           A thought crept into your head – and you had to shut it down immediately. It was too early into the relationship, and he shouldn’t know about your bad habits. About what you do when you can’t sleep, and to help you get back to sleep immediately if things like this occur, which was often. Maybe he should know, you thought. It’s only a matter of time before you’re waking him up with hickeys to his chest.

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Bite Me (Part 5)

Characters: Reader, Sam, Dean (no pairings yet)

Warnings: Not much for this chapter, just mention of injuries

Overview: You were raised in the hunter life. You fell out of it. It wasn’t your choice to get pulled back in.

Word Count: 1,569

A/N: This is the fifth installment in my first ever fanfic. I love how much love you guys keep giving me :) You make my typing fingers very happy! This is more of a connecting chapter, so bear with me. It just mean’s I’ll post part 6 sooner rather than later! These words, like everything else I write, are for me. Feel free to join me in the adventure.

Read (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)


“And this here’s Bobby,” Uncle Jay said, pointing at the worn picture with his calloused finger, “One of the best hunting buddies a guy could have.” We were sifting through a box filled with old photographs and odd mementos that I had found tucked behind some books while searching for a particular title on Greek Mythology. Uncle Jay had smiled when I brought it out, eager to take a walk down memory lane. My eyes roamed the photograph containing a large group of hunters, pausing on a set of boys. They were the youngest in the photo by a good number of years. 

I pointed, “Who are they?”

Uncle Jay let out a brief chuckle, “Them’s the Winchester boys.” His pointer finger traced the photo again, “Man behind them is their daddy, John. This one,” He tapped the slightly shorter figure, “that’s Dean. Real spitfire, that one. And the other, Sammy, he has a good head on his shoulders. One of the most mature fifteen year olds I’ve ever met. Gosh,” he scratched his bristled chin, “Kid must be… at least twenty by now. Close to your age, Small Fry. That’d put Dean around twenty-four, give or take.” He sighed deeply and placed the crumpled image back in the box before closing the lid. “Now,” he picked up the book on mythology, “what have we found out about our siren?” And just like that we were back on the case at hand.

The Winchester boys’ faces stayed with me. I went back to the box later than night and removed the photograph of hunters, folding it in half on an existent crease and slipping it into my wallet. I took the photo with me wherever I went, a reminder through the blood, pain, and hurt that there were others out there like me. Two boys, now young men, living and breathing the hunter life. I wondered if they were given a choice. I wondered if they’d tried to get out of it all. I wondered if they had bigger hopes and dreams for a life not involving salt lines, shotguns, and solitary. I wondered if they had nightmares that would wake them in a state of panic in the dead of night. I wondered what they feared while living an existence alongside monsters. I wondered how much they were like me. And just having that photograph gave me a glimmer of hope, a hope to connect with someone outside of mine and Uncle Jay’s small world.


“Hey, come on, you can’t sleep,” someone was gently shaking my arm, “You need to wake up.”

“Bite me,” I growled low in my throat, and the hand quickly disappeared.

“What did she say?” That would be Dean.

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Just Regular Stuff - (A Suho One shot)


“Oppa” you said in your sweetest voice, kicking your legs cutely as you sat up on his kitchen counter. He glanced at you before returning to his container of yogurt. You had just finished a run with Suho, your workout buddy who you met at the gym three months ago. You hit it off well and had been spending time exercising together now. You liked him. You really really liked him. But he was a total nerd. And a self control freak. You’d never met someone as in control of himself as Suho was. It was beginning to drive you crazy. How was he so repressed?

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Scars and kisses

For @lauramainxmyangel, who requested a fic describing the ride to the adoption agency after making me a glorious moodboard. I hope you like it!

Shelagh rubbed the scar on her hand. It was a nervous habit she had picked up ever since the Summer Fete, now over a year ago. It was not so much a scar anymore as a silvery line that crossed the other lines of her palm, but her sensitive fingertips could still discern the slightly raised skin.

How much has changed since that day, she couldn’t help but think. She had been a nun then, and so confused. Her feelings for Doctor Turner had swelled till they were almost all-consuming, yet she could not reconcile them with her faith. Now she was the doctor’s wife, sitting next to him as they were driving to the adoption agency to go and pick up their child.

The child you thought you would never have, Shelagh thought. A faint twinge in her abdomen reminded her of another scar, one that would not fade into a gentle silver.

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Blind Date

Member: Wonwoo
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 3322

(A/N: This isn’t exactly like the request, but I got really excited and carried away with it, so please forgive me)


“I don’t need a boyfriend.” you stated, looking down at the paper coffee cup in your hands.

“You know that’s a lie.” your best friend said, laughing and leaning back in her chair. Of course, she was absolutely right, but you didn’t want her to know that. She had been trying to convince you to let her set you up on a blind date for a few days now, and it was starting to get tiring refusing her.

“Who would you even set me up with?” you asked.

“It wouldn’t be a blind date if I told you, now would it?” she sighed, looking at you like you were stupid. You just made a face at her and looked back at your teacup. “It wouldn’t be that bad. The guy I had in mind already said that he was willing to let me set him up with someone.”

“Really?” you said, your head snapping up.

“I knew you were interesteeed!” your friend squealed, bouncing up and down in her seat. Damn it. You didn’t want to give her this satisfaction, but you couldn’t deny that your interest was at least a little piqued.

“…So what were you planning?” you sighed, finally giving in.

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The Lost Princess {Biadore} Chapter 4 - C*NT

A/N: So I’m back back back at writing super long chapters! This is a whopping 6k+ chapter filled with all sorts of goodies. Today there will be some talk about different sexualities (bisexual, pansexual etc.), which as a pansexual myself, I hope I classified it correctly. We also have a new character coming into the mix ;) Bianca/Roy is bisexual in this AU, Courtney is pansexual, and Adore herself is starting to realize she is not cis. TW: Alcohol consumption, a heavy make out scene and vomit near the end (i don’t go into too much detail but just in case)

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