i said i'll do it next week but i had free time so

anonymous asked:

reader x scoups ; thigh riding

Slow Down

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 882

Summary: Riding Seungcheol’s thigh. That is all.

(A/N): THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR LIKE TEN YEARS I’M SORRY I hope you enjoy it tho!!! I rage wrote this bc I’m stressed af about finals so (Oh also this has some light daddy kink in it so like if you’re really not into that I suggest skipping this one)

Originally posted by imbangnzelo

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3. Wingman // Klance

« {Part 3 of my Valentine’s collection.} »

The space bar was exactly what Keith would have expected a space bar to look like. He almost expected the Star Wars cantina song to start playing.

“Dude! Check out that giant keg thing! Oh my god, I’m going to get space-wasted!” Lance said, shifting from foot to foot in excitement. “Do they have legal drinking ages here in space? Shit, I don’t have a space-ID—”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Hunk said. “Look—they’re not even asking for ID. It looks like… self-serve?”

He pointed at where some short alien people were serving themselves cups of electric green liquid from the “keg thing” Lance had noticed earlier. The aliens put coins into a slot and then pressed a button to fill their cups.

“Let’s just get some of it before Shiro and Allura notice we’re gone,” Pidge said. “I really don’t want to get another lecture about responsibility.”

“Psh. They’re still at that space movie theater. We’re free for the next couple hours for sure,” Lance said. He sidled up next to Keith, slinging an arm over his shoulder. “So, what do you say—should we get completely shit-faced?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Hey, you didn’t have to come along,” Lance said, poking a finger at Keith’s chest. Then he turned to Hunk. “Hey, Hunk—be my wingman for tonight? There have to be some pretty alien ladies in this bar.”

“Uh,” Hunk said. He shot a quick glance at Keith and then looked back at Lance. “Not tonight, man. Sorry. Pidge and I were going to…”

“We were going to play space foosball,” Pidge said quickly. “I thought I saw it when we came in, so….”

“Yeah,” Hunk agreed. “We’re going to do that.”

“Well, damn,” Lance said. He looked back at Keith. “Well, it looks like you’re going to have to be my wingman tonight, Keith. You up for it?”

Over Lance’s shoulder, Hunk and Pidge gave Keith a pitying look. He sighed. “Sure, I guess,” he said. “Why not?”

Why not wingman for Lance? Why not wingman for the guy he might sort of actually like in a not-so-platonic way?

This wasn’t going to end well.

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Indefinite Hiatus;

I’m sure some people have noticed that I haven’t been around lately again, and I wanted to further explain myself before going on an indefinite hiatus. Please bear with me, as I don’t know if this will come off as me venting or ranting, but I feel this is all stuff I need to say and want to get across to everyone.

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Padawan - Anakin Skywalker

Prompt #2 of the Hamilton fics.
Song: Aaron Burr, Sir

“Pardon me, are you Anakin Skywalker, sir?” you asked hesitantly, walking up to the tall man who had a eerie scar across his eye. He looked over at you and raised an eyebrow from that side of his face.

“That depends, who’s asking?”

“Oh well, sure, sir, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I have been looking for you.”

“I’m getting nervous,” he said with a smile, making you laugh nervously.

“I’m a Jedi, too. I heard your name at the Jedi Temple.” He looked at you curiously. 

“You seem pretty young to be a Jedi master,” he said. You laughed.

“Well, I’m still just a learner, but I did move on sooner than most. I was a little enthusiastic.” He raised his eyebrow and again and tilted his head. “I may have forced punched someone, way before we had even learned how.” He laughed wholeheartedly this time. 


“I wanted to join the fight. I wanted to be a part of the Clone Wars. I was inspired by everything that happened at Genosis a few months ago.”

“Can I buy you a drink? Or are you not old enough.” You laughed and shook your head.

“No, I’m old enough. A drink would be nice.” He nodded and started walking in step with you towards the nearest club. 

“While we’re talking let me offer you some free advice. Talk less. Smile more.” You did a little, but looked at him curiously. Usually when someone told you to smile more, it was a creepy old man who had only known you for a second. Technically, Anakin wasn’t that much different. After ordering, he looked back at you again. “Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“You want to get ahead?” he asked.


“Fools who run their mouths often wind up dead,” he said seriously. 

“You did,” you said. He looked over at you and you giggled. “I mean, you’re the one who went to Genosis, stopping the dark side from killing your master, Obi Wan Kenobi.”

“Okay, firs of all, I think you know too much about me, second of all, what did I say about talking too much?”

“Sorry.” He smiled and sighed.

“Why did you even come find me?”

“Because I had a question.”

“Okay,” he said, looking at you nervously. 

“Well, you told me not to talk so much.” He laughed and seemed a little annoyed.

“Just tell me.”

“I came to ask if you would take me on as a Padawan.”

“You’re kidding.” This time it was your turn to laugh nervously.


“I’m still training myself-”

“I know, that’s why Master Yoda thought we would make a great pair.” He sighed.

“Master Yoda sent you?”

“And Master Windu, yes.” He took a drink and pondered for a while.

“Hell of a time to send a new Padawan.”

“So you’ll take me?” you asked excitedly. 

“I didn’t say that.  I’ll have to ask Obi Wan first.”

“But it’s a yes from you,” you said, beaming.

“I didn’t say that either. You’re putting words in my mouth.” You laughed, knowing that he had already decided. That was the thing about being a Jedi, your impressions of people were nearly instant and unwavering. Anakin had already made the decision to teach you, and you could see it in his eyes.

A week later, you were traveling on a ship to Coruscant, next to Anakin, and Obi Wan. Like you expected, Anakin gave you a fabulous review, and Obi Wan agreed you would make a great addition to their little team. Since you had only been with them for a week, you weren’t exactly sure how to follow them, but were slowly catching on.

You and Obi Wan would tease Anakin quite a bit, and you and Anakin would talk about Obi Wan when he was’t paying attention. It had only been a week, and the Clone Wars were coming to a close. You knew you should have been happy about that, but you didn’t want to lose your chance to learn with Anakin and Obi Wan.

When you stopped day dreaming, you looked over at them, and noticed that they were discussing what would happen when the war was over.

“The revolution is imminent, Anakin, what do you stall for?”

“If you stand for nothing, Obi Wan, what will you fall for?” A silence fell over the men, and you felt a presence you hadn’t sensed before. Anger, maybe. Jealous? Fear? Something. Something wasn’t right about the way that Anakin was fiddling with his hands, or the look that Obi Wan had on his face. A moment later it was gone, and you forgot about it entirely. But that feeling would come back again, and the same confusion and worry would wash over you.

dantea  asked:

College au? I'll let your creativity run free from there ;D (also what the heck, I'm planning on my major/minor to be English too?)

College Freshmen Are Loud

Read it on ao3!  & send in a prompt!

Summary: The noise in Dan’s dorm hall is cutting into his sleep. Phil provides a solution

Word Count: 1.9k

Notes: thank u, ryanne. I love college aus :(( (we should talk majors)

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Silver Lining ⦁ I.M

i.m x reader ➠ requested by anonymous—”fluffy changkyun scenario.”

warnings: none. genre: fluff. word count: 989 a/n: this was super vague so i just ran with it the only way i know how… with stupid humour and dumb scenarios.

Originally posted by iamonstax

After a week of rain you were overjoyed to wake up one morning and find sunlight streaming through your blinds. Usually you aren’t much of a morning person but this morning was a special one–you had to call Changkyun and make sure he was free to enjoy the sunshine.

Do you have any idea what time it is?” is the first thing he said to you that day.

“It’s not like you’re a stranger to waking up early.”

There’s silence on the other end and for a moment you’re worried he’s fallen asleep but– “Yeah, I know, I’ve been up for an hour already.” He laughed loudly and you realised that the other members must be awake too. “Figured you’d call me when you saw the weather so I didn’t bother waking you.

“How do you know me so well?”

You could actually picture his exaggerated shrug before he replied. “I love you, don’t I? Anyway, am I picking you up or what?

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School Project - 707 x Reader

Word Count: 1563

Trigger Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF

A/N: high school au, first mysme imagine lmao sorry if it’s really bad it probably is

Your eyes followed your teacher as she paced herself table to table, sliding a piece of paper to each student. The clicks of her thick-heeled, black pumps got louder and louder as she made her way closer to you. You absent-mindedly clicked your pen as you waited.

Today marked the new unit in AP Chemistry, a unit entirely weighted on a three-week project. The small slip of paper, which would inform you of your partner, could possibly determine whether you would ace it or fail it. You weren’t too picky with who you would be paired up with, as long as it wasn’t some slacker. Considering this was an AP course, there weren’t very many.

There were several small celebrations or annoyed groans as your classmates peered at their paper. Some simply didn’t react. You were one of them as you opened the folded sheet carefully handed to you by your teacher.


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anonymous asked:

Hi there! I'm always glad to see another Haikyuu blog around! Would it possible for me to request something about a S/O that really likes to cook and bake with Saeko, Ushijima, Oikawa, and Ukai? I don't really have a preference, so I'll let you decide if you want to do headcanons or scenarios. Whatever works best for you is 100% cool with me. Thank you for doing these and I hope you have a lovely day! :]

Hi anon, hope you have a lovely day as well!

I’ve decided on headcanons since a lot of my thoughts didn’t fit together to make a scenario! I wish you like it.

- Admin Miya

p.s. I’m going to put Ushijima, Oikawa, and Ukai under the cut since they got realllyyyy long! If you’re having issues with it, just message me and I’ll remove it.

- She meets you at the newly opened bakeshop near their home and holy shit does she not expect the owner to be a bad ass with the same style as her.
- Like really? The place was all pastel and light and you had the cool “nobody fucks with me” vibe but mixed with sweet smiles and even sweeter treats
- Speechless when she was about to order the cupcake she wants to try
- “Cat got your tongue?” “…” “I envy it then.”
- Did the hot baker just flirted with her??? Your giggle???? That smirk on your face???????? If she wasn’t gone the time she saw you then she definitely is now.
- Would not visit the shop for the next few days because that was embarrassing.
- Gathered up the courage (collected some good comebacks as well) to go back after a week
- Surprised that you were easy to talk to. Thought you were this flirting deity. There was occasional flirting, but now she has comebacks and she absolutely loves it when she makes you blush
- She invites you over for dinner and you brought tonkatsu! Ryu loved them. He immediately told Saeko to marry you.
- Both of you don’t know what happened but after that you were officially dating. No words needed. It just… happened. Everything was the same but now with more holding hands and random kisses on the forehead and cheeks.
- Your first kiss together was when you invited her into your shop kitchen and had a small food fight. She put icing on your lips, “Looks like I need to clean it up,” and kissed you.
- You were initially shocked but you said after a short while, “Well now you have some on you,” and you kissed her. It just went on like that.
- When you’re cooking, she’d do the cliché thing of hugging you from behind! 21397103x better since her chest is really soft!

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Standards and Fear

 This world that we live in loves to set standards. Many of these standards are constantly morphing and even changing entirely into a new set of standards. But there are some however, that have never changed. While I could rant on and on about these ridiculous set of rules that society creates, there is one tonight that weighs heavily on my heart. A cripple, a mute, a learning disorder. A condition, an illness. Deaf, blind, or disfigured. Even the elderly. All of these people are rounded up by society, like animals in a zoo, being observed and gawked at. Tell me, when you pass by someone in the supermarket who sits in a wheelchair, what is your reaction? Do you give them an apologetic smile as you step aside? Do you make eye contact and try your hardest to act “normal”, or do you even go as far as acting as though they are not there. Perhaps you feel that if you acknowledge their existence, they will feel embarrassed, even humiliated. But then…maybe you are the embarrassed one.
    My little sister is a free spirit, to say the least. While she was taking mud baths in the heat of summer, I was the one buried in books and art and things of that sort. She is the risk-taker, the bold one. Not only has she endured three major surgeries that have confined her wild heart to a wheel chair each time, she took it with a smile all three times. Now, my sister who’s wild heart was confined to a constant state of stillness, was presented with a great deal of time alone with her thoughts. Many of those thoughts that she shared had to do with her frustration involving the way people-the general public- were treating her because of the fact she was in a wheelchair. “They get so awkward, like they feel bad for me and don’t want to look at me,” she would say irritated, “I wish they would just treat me like a normal person.” They next time we went out, I watched, and to find that my younger sister was absolutely right. People’s reactions varied between two different extremes. One of these extremes was obvious eye contact, but in a condescending way. A look that said “I’m so sorry that you are the way you are.” And the other extreme being, obviously, the attitude that she was not ever there in the first place. Despite the maddening looks or lack there of, she pulled through those times of confinement time after time, and it never ceased to amaze me.
    Now, several months later she was back on her feet again, but she had an accident and broke her arm (no one was surprised really). She chose the brightest, neon pink cast that she could choose. I still remember how she strutted out of the doctors office like she was on top of the world; as though she had forgotten that she had just broken her arm. Later on in the week my family took a trip to the mall, and I decided to observe the way people treated my sister this time. What I saw fascinated and disturbed me at the same time. Everywhere we went, she received warm, sympathetic smiles, and many times questions about what happened. Never in a million years would someone have asked her what happened when she was in her wheelchair. But this time, no one gave it a second thought. Why?
    I came to the conclusion that we as humans, are afraid of permanence when it comes to our physical abilities or looks. When my sister was being wheeled around with a blanket draped over her legs, it seemed to others that her disability was permanent, for life, and to ask would be sensitive or rude. In my opinion this is an excuse to cover up our fear of breaking away from the worlds standards. When Macy sported her flamboyant pink cast, fear never played a factor, because people know that it will eventually come off, and all will be well.
     I strongly dislike the word “disability”, because it suggests that a person is weak in every way. Perhaps  they are weak according to the world, but their souls and hearts would tell you otherwise, if you took a peek inside. Have you ever met an autistic child? Those children know a joy that those who do not have autism never will. They feel emotion so deeply, and their laughter is one of the most beautiful sounds I have ever heard. Those who cannot hear sounds, see like those who can hear never will. The soft breeze of spring, and the first snowflake falling from the sky speak only to the blind. The paralyzed dance through life in their own lovely way. These people are called weak, and unable, but to me, they are the strongest of us all. The obstacles that they face, and the daunting challenges they endure are endless, yet they continue to give to the world and enrich it. They see the world in a way I never will be able to, and the things that can be learned from them are endless. God has given us all a purpose, he knows each person in a way more intimate than we can even fathom. I believe that what this world sees as a disability, God sees as an asset, a gift. Those that have this gift are so immensely strong, and so uniquely equipped to adorn our tired world with pockets of pure joy.
    So again, we are brought to the question why? Why do we feel pity for those who do not meet the standards of this world? Who are we to define what is weak, and what is not? I do not intend for my words to be accusing, because we are all guilty of submitting to the fear of being different. I do however, intend to push you towards changing the way you think about these standards that we are so constantly and tirelessly exposed to. Why live in fear, when you could be who you are truly created to be and instead revel in the person that God has made you. Never has there been one like you, and never will there be, so why not step out of those confining standards and push the limits of greatness?

One shot where you were experimented with the twins, and you got really close especially Wanda who was like a mother to you. You escape and join the the avengers to find the twins. So in wakanda you are with them, Wanda is hurt because you changed sides and uses her powers in you and sees that your worst fear is losing her. You wake up crying and she comforts you. Lotsss of fluff and cute ending pleaseee

TITLE: Can’t do this

You flinched as the heavy door was yanked open. Even though you were facing the door, you hadn’t been paying attention. Your focus was zeroed on your hands. Shadows danced between your fingertips, showing off your new abilities that Strucker had granted you through many bouts of pain and suffering. 

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Under the Rabbit’s Moon

Part 2

Their story did not have a happy ending. Happy endings were endings, the finishing of things. Their story cycled into the hibernation of another ancient pattern doomed to be repeated in a later generation. Her boys died to save the world and all it had achieved was a handful of years meant for peace.

But it was peace, and hoards of people were too tired and too lost and too broken to believe it was anything less than what they had been fighting and dying for all along. The fatherless drank deep cups of sake in a shared tent and sang until they couldn’t feel the tears on their face anymore.

To them it was enough.

Not for her.

Sakura felt cursed with her inability to let go and see the resolution to their conflict as anything less than what it was. She couldn’t lie to her self, (though she tried), and believe things were okay. No, her boys were dead and that force was not yet defeated. Their last, best hope hadn’t been enough to lay the moon goddess to rest for good. The mother of all chakra still remained, but Naruto, Sasuke, and Kakashi were all gone.

She was alone, and that was why she dug through the ancient tree, peeling back bark and acid sap and carving out chunks of the innermost wood before reaching the nub of gelatin like coating that housed the immortal. Sakura’s body was decaying fast, burning down to bones, but she peeled it back and broke the pod open, yin seal blow wide and glowing.

‘‘You hope to kill me?’’ Kaguya’s voice was a mournful echo between Sakura’s ears. “Ah, if only you could. There must always be a cursed one. That is the price of things. Magic, chakra, power…it isn’t free. Don’t you know that silly child?’’

Sakura screamed, feeling her face burn as the seal spread out lines of iridescent purple thicker and thicker across her body. She was dying and being reborn all at once, but it wouldn’t last forever. She would run out of chakra and die soon enough and no one would be around to find her body. No one dared come close to the sacred tree, not after they saw what it had done at the last battle. Too many people remembered being a part of it, of being sucked dry by it.

“I’m taking you with me,” Sakura grunted through clenched teeth.

The woman’s voice tinkled like a bell. “Will you do it? Will you free me from this curse?”

Suddenly, it was more than just a voice between Sakura’s ears. She saw the moon goddess  standing in the darkness, her skin ash white and eyes as wide and ancient as the surface as the moon reflected across a still ocean. Sakura’s mental defenses sprang up in response, strong and faster from all those years of developing a second persona. Mental hands reached for the mental moon goddess, but froze just shy of squeezing her to death.  

“I’ll give you what you want if you can take it from me,’”Kaguya intoned, closing her pearl colored eyes and opening the slit on her brow to show a spinning third eye, patterned with the sharingan.

Sakura’s body was nearly gone, approaching the point of no return as the acid burned faster and harsher than ever. In her mind she fought against the woman, but in the real world she was paralyzed.  It wasn’t unexpected. Sasuke and Naruto had been powerless when they teamed up alongside Kakashi. What made her think she would be enough?

“But you are. They were going about it the wrong way,” Kaguya cried.

Sakura screamed, feeling the pain of her physical body  give her the last mental boost needed to finish closing her fists and squeezing the woman out of existence. Kaguya was gone in a cloud of shimmering moon dust and Sakura collapsed, knowing her body wasn’t going to last more than a minute.

’That’s fine. I’ll see them again,’ she thought, closing her eyes.

In the back of her mind she felt cold fingers run patterns through her thoughts. There was a tinkling of bells and womanish laughter. “Yes, you will.”

That had been three years ago.

Sakura makes it a game to guess the ages of the children who dare each other to pass into her hedge garden, a place she’s tended to with the intention of making it a place for healing the sick and tending to the injured. It just so happened that too many of the men and women she restored took to repaying her with cultivating the land into a zen garden surrounded by intricately trimmed hedges. It makes it easy for her to develop a genjutsu on the hedges that keep out intruders.  

Children too young to see through her illusion wander until they are tired and give up or fall asleep in the cooling shade. More than once she’s had to carry out sleeping children, proving further stories of horror and terror.

There is a boy today too young to be much older than five or six with ashen blond hair, stumbling around, trying to get through. Sakura recognizes him as one of the boys she has had to carry out. Admittedly she found him cute with wide eyes and a face full of soft baby fat too innocent and too young for the leg guards and gauntlets he already sported.

When he falls asleep under one of the hedges Sakura stops just outside the reach of the hedge’s shade and wonders if she shouldn’t just keep him to herself, protect him from the fighting she knows is happening not too far away in a land she has no interest in.

She kneels, loose pants brushing the soft grass as her knees touch down. His mouth is open and drooling onto his arm as his legs stretch out in sleep. He is content where he lies, he feels comfortable in the shade and it nearly breaks her heart. 


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Where Dooku has an interesting selection method for choosing his padawan

Quite possibly my last Circle snippet for a while, as I’m going to be heavily focused on world building soon. Feel free to chime in on discussion of that however, as I’ll be tossing a few rambles up I’m sure.

In tonight’s instalment, Dooku chooses Qui-Gon as his padawan. Well, maybe chooses isn’t the right word…

Attitude, Dooku knew, was at least fifty percent of fooling people. Even, especially, other Jedi.

He’d been knighted for over a year. So, it was perfectly reasonable, if a bit unlikely, for him to have acquired a padawan. As such, it was also reasonable that he would have access to the lower level commissary. The one in closest proximity to the creche and younger children’s classrooms, reserved for Masters with young apprentices. A commissary which, due to the reduced number of knights and Masters using it, tended to have the best selection of teas still available.

The fact that Dooku did not in fact have a padawan, was irrelevant.

Qui-Gon darted into the lower level commissary looking for all the world like he was running late to meet his Master. Which he was, running late that is. Qui-Gon didn’t actually have a Master yet, a fact that meant he wasn’t technically meant to be here. But in the interest of actually getting access to tea, it was a technicality he was quite happy to ignore. After all, he mused, as he slipped in behind an unaccompanied young knight, he was old enough to have been chosen. The fact that his Master hadn’t collected him from the creche yet wasn’t his fault.

For two weeks Dooku used the commissary on and off as he waited for his next mission. Every now and then he thought someone was going to challenge him, but then eyes would flicker behind him, and the challenge never came. It was the start of the third week that Dooku’s luck finally ran out.

“Taken a padawan you have, my old apprentice?” Came from about level with his knee. “Heard this I had not.”

Dooku froze, and turned to face the small green form of the Grandmaster of the Order.

“Master Yoda.” He managed to greet his old Master calmly. “This is a surprise.”

“Indeed. And answer my question you did not.”

Dooku was mentally running through every curse word he knew as he rapidly tried to come up with a reasonable deflection, when he felt a tug on his robes. He looked down into bright blue eyes.

“Master,” said the boy. Who Dooku vaguely recognised from the previous two weeks. “Can I try the red leaf this time?”

“Initiate Jinn,” Yoda spoke before Dooku could formulate a reply.  “Another surprise this is.  Heard you had been selected I had not.”

It was then that the lack of padawan braid, and the glint of mild panic  in the boy’s eyes clicked. An insane idea formed in his mind, and Dooku seized on it before he could examine it further. He cleared his throat, interrupting Yoda.

“Its padawan actually. Or it will be.”


“I was using the opportunity to make sure the youngling was okay with the idea.”

“Spoken with the Council then, you have not. Do that soon, you should.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Bring him round for tea after, you should.”

“Of course, Master.”

With that, the elder Jedi shuffled off. It wasn’t until Yoda was out of sight, that Dooku finally relaxed, and turned his attention to the youngling at his side. Human, mousy brown hair, and quite tall for his age. Tall enough to be mistaken for a padawan despite the missing braid. A quick mind too, skilled at improvisation, and a daring to bend the rules. He supposed he could work with that.

“Well, Initiate Jinn,” he started.


“I’m sorry?”

“My name is Qui-Gon.”

Dooku smiled. “Very well, Qui-Gon. The red was it?”

And all that, in the name of tea. Yes, Dooku decided. He could do worse.

Title: Sugar Sugar

Pairing: 6yr old Junhao

Genre: fluff horendous levels of fluff

Summary: Five year old Minghao and Junhui have a system, one which involves Minghao evading having to eat his vegetables and gain a best-friend

To say that Minghao dislikes vegetables would be a gross understatement; he absolutely abhors eating anything green. He doesn’t believe it when his mom says carrots will help his eyesight—he can see like twenty blocks away—or that eating them will make him grow big and strong like his dad. So he doesn’t understand why his mom always packs vegetables for his lunch when she makes him suffer with the stupid green things for dinner.

Minghao survived just fine last year in second grade eating snacks and sticky jelly sandwiches so he doesn’t understand why this year it has to be different.

“Is your mom a veterinarian,” Mingyu asks, mouth drawn in disgust as he peers into Minghao’s lunch box.

Jihoon sighs from across their brightly orange coloured lunch table “It’s vegetarian.

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yurochka  asked:

Rin, Sousuke, Makoto and Seijuurou's reactions to their s.o cooking something for them BUT it tastes horrible. Would they tell the truth or lie to not hurt their feelings? XD

(ohhh noOOOO)

Makoto: He’d hope his partner couldn’t see how his face was visibly paling the moment their cooking touched his tongue, but he immediately plasters on the happiest fake smile when he sees them staring at him so expectantly. “I-It’s really good! You should teach me how to cook sometime, too.” He immediately regrets saying that since he’s not any better than them, but he can at least stop them from doing things like overcooking or adding random ingredients next time.

Rin: He coughs a few times and has to cover his mouth with his hand for a while, looking away from his partner since he had to figure out how he was going to word this. “It’s… not bad, but…” He groans and gives up. “Ah, sorry! It’s pretty bad. How did you even mix up the sugar and salt? Aren’t they labeled?” He lectures them for a few minutes on kitchen safety and how to keep everything organized, but he feels so guilty over their disappointed face he has to kiss them on the forehead.

Sousuke: His eyebrow twitches and he nearly chokes, but he keeps it together until he can swallow the first bite. “…It’s good,” he mumbles from around the spoon in his mouth, biting on it gently to distract himself from what he just ate. Unfortunately his partner would be able to see through his horrible acting and call him out, saying he didn’t need to lie, but he just shakes his head like it’s not registering in his brain. “What, what’re you saying, it’s good. I said, it’s good. What, I’m not lying-” He forces himself to keep eating and ends up wrestling his partner for the spoon.

Seijuurou: No matter how unappealing the dish looks at first glance, his smiling partner waiting for him to eat it would end up making him smile, too. After his loud declaration of joy he’d start eating, but then go blue in the face from how bad it tasted. (Surely his partner would notice his pained expression and start to worry.) Without another word he’d quickly shove all of it into his mouth and down an entire glass of water, even if he felt like he’d throw up at any second now. He ruffles their hair with a big smile and a thumbs-up. “Thanks for the food! Ah, that was good. How about we try cooking together next time?” 

Rock Never Dies/But There Are Things Much Worse Than Death

Yeah, so I’m starting with a Dumbledore quote this week, because Dumbledore’s always relevant and also whoa, wouldn’t that an interesting crossover?

[”Bad plot bunny! Down, plot bunny!”]

First things first: this episode wasn’t exactly terrible, but I’m only partially happy with it. Because, like, my problem with Supernatural at this point (and I say ‘at this point’ because I’m feeling generous and fully drenched in Christmas cheer) is really its lack of consistency. And, look, I’m not saying that a show must be an absolute masterpiece in order to be enjoyable - I understand that’s a hard thing to do, and okay - and also, there are shows I consider ‘beach viewing’ (that’s how you call a specific kind of books in Italian: stuff that can be read on a beach) - they’re not particularly exciting, and if they cancel them I’ll probably live, but they’re entertaining and comforting. I know what I can expect, week after week. And Supernatural - I simply don’t understand how a show that can give us stuff like Baby and Changing Channels and Swan Song and Hunteri Heroici and so many other episodes that were as close to perfection as they could get them can also give us stuff which is, frankly, awful to meh. Because Rock Never Dies? Sort of okay, and it sort of improves in rewatch, but only because our beloved Team Free Will + was working together, and that’s such a rare thing it was a delight to watch. Really, sometimes I get this feeling nobody really knows where the story is going or what to make of these characters and their motivations - the only ones to be completely consistent are Wanek and his minions - but, then again, they’re the same ones who wrote a you people read too much into this graffiti last year - and since that graffiti was visible in the background for half a second and we still saw it, I’m guessing we don’t have a leg to stand on. So, well - I don’t know if they drink schnapps instead of coffee during team meetings (if they do have team meetings, that is) or if they’re so focused on keeping everybody happy they’ve forgotten their primary goal is actually telling a story, but, man.

Well, whatever - back to the episode.

My first complaint would be that they’ve forgotten how to write supernatural creatures. Who Lucifer is and what he wants - to me, it didn’t work all that well. Lucifer was supposed to be the first angel to act on free will, and now suddenly he’s falling apart because dad isn’t there to tell him what to do? A few years ago he wanted to destroy the world, and now he wants people to love him? He spent months humiliating Crowley and then almost killed him but now he keeps Crowley alive because ‘you can’t hurt me, lolz’? And, again - enough with the daddy issues. Everybody on this show seems to function exclusively on daddy issues, and I’ll give Sam and Dean a pass, but these are not humans - they’re angels and demons and they shouldn’t be coded on the same parameters of human beings, otherwise what’s the point? Honestly, I’m so fed up I’m even starting to dislike the fact Crowley doesn’t kill anyone anymore, because that, in a way, was a perfect example of him being ‘other’ (being a good guy while also enjoying human flesh muffins, that is). But, well, the thing is - trying to write the unwritable - a thing that is way beyond anything we can imagine as humans - some writers, like Neil Gaiman and Susanna Clarke, can do it so perfectly you can’t sleep at night; and others - others should start considering turning their chracters human, because at least they would make sense.

(For instance, Lucifer beating Crowley with a guitar was suitably horrific, full of demented rage and all, but Cas attempting to attack Lucifer with a guitar was just weird. Is that how angels fight? Really?)

Turning to Destiel - I’m happy Dean changed Cas’ name from Castiel to Cass (even if, for God’s sake, what’s up with the extra s?), and the fact that Cas actually has opinions on what Dean wears was welcome news (not to Dean, since he acted all embarrassed and changed, like, five minutes later - although, I’m guessing he’ll be back in plaid next week), but, again - keeping whatever is going on between them in the subtext is starting to mess with these guys’ charactierization. For instance, infamous germaphobe Dean Winchester picking up a pair of discarded underwear? Yeah, I don’t think so. Literally the only purpose of him doing that was reminding us he’s partial to pink panties (on himself, that is), and having him glance at Cas as he held them, and showing us Cas picking them up next. But, subtext aside, it was a wtf thing for him to do.

(Much love for the fact they had two references to endverse this week - the panties and the ‘fearless leader’ jab at the end. Man, I’m still not over that episode.)

Under the cut: Sam acting weird, Crowley breaking my heart, the Winchesters vs the British MoL, Samson and Ladyheart and some random thoughts and feels.

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summary: phil was tired of being phil, and he makes the decision to start a new chapter in his life

genre: angsty as fuck

warnings: depressing thoughts, negativity, low self esteem, non-happy ending (im sorry)

word count: 576 (yay another drabble)

A/N: i had a vision of a crying dan and then i turned it into this piece of mess. it’s more a hurt!phil thing than anything. also, i’m not saying that phil is related to anything that i have said in the fic. i was reflecting how i felt. it has nothing based off of what i perceive of phil, okay? also i’m sorry it’s all over the place. it’s nearly three am and my vision is getting blurry oops. i hope you enjoy (or cry) <333

edit: this is also a platonic relationship (okay carry on bye)

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  • Okay but imagine this
  • Bilbo is the tattoo artist who owns his own shop that everyone is really confused about because he's this cute little thing that were baggy jumpers that go over his hands to do the sweat paw thing when he's not inking someone and he has these big glasses that he's always fumbling to push up his nose and he's just all around adorable and he's polite and smiles warmly at everyone and he looks like he needs to be in a pile of pillows with a cuppa and a good book next to a roaring fire instead of in the middle of a tattoo parlor with designs that range from disturbing to beautiful why is this small creature here why this isn't right and his workers are like hell just you wait
  • And then he shows up randomly in a new pair of glasses that compliment his face perfectly and a pair of nice, tight trousers and a button up white shirt that has the sleeves rolled up to the elbows revealing his multitude of tattoos and a burgundy vest with elaborate buttons sewn on and everyone is like holy shit then Bilbo is talking with someone and having a civil chat and someone says a slur of some sort and instantly any sign of warmth just disappears from his face and he very calmly asks them to leave and the person is like why because I said [insert slur here] and then suddenly tiny cuddly Bilbo is an imposing force and should be ten feet tall to just complete how terrifying he is when he wants to be and he's suddenly very heatedly describing how slurs are incredibly rude and highly inappropriate in any situation and how to merely casually insert them into a conversation is disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourself for this behavior, your mother would be feeding you bars of soap for a week should she have heard that, get out of my shop and good day to you, and everyone watching is just like O.O because Bilbo has never even spoken in an unkind tone before even when he had really difficult customers and they're all just so shocked and his workers are behind the counter laughing their asses off
  • Now insert Thorin, high-and-mighty businessman who has a soft spot for his two nephews and takes care of them constantly and is always there when they need him and who tries to be stern with them but really can't deny them a single thing. He's got boisterous Kili at one elbow (sixteen maybe) who's chattering on and on about something from school and Fili (nine? twenty?) who's very calm and collected and listening to his brother fondly and interjecting every now and then and they're both making Thorin just feel so proud and they walk into Bilbo's shop because after six months of Kili pestering Thorin about a tattoo and showing him the design he'd created a year prior and begging and pleading for weeks, months on end he's finally convinced him yes, he really wants it, please uncle, I'll get it on my upper arm so I only show it off when I want to, please, I'll make sure mum doesn't yell at you, and finally he concedes because he can't get mad at them and he talked Dís into letting him get it easy enough
  • So he gets a recommendation from Dwalin who has an impressive number of tattoos scattered across his body which adds to his intimidation and makes lots of people comply out of fear of what could happen if they don't and he points them in Bilbo's direction so they go on a rainy Saturday since no ones seems arsed to get out besides them
  • Bilbo's shop is buzzing with life as usual, filled with the misfit kids he'd taken upon himself to watch over. So basically he's got merry and pippin and frodo and Sam all working around his shop doing random jobs like sweeping and wiping down the counter because Bilbo insists that they keep themselves busy and that they don't do bad things and in exchange for work instead of being paid they earn 'credits' Bilbo logs and when you get a certain amount Bilbo will give you a tattoo free but he insists they get the slip signed every time regardless since they're still young. He'd pay them but he's already got Tauriel working as his extra artist and they're looking for a person to work the register and help people find the design they want cause Bilbo is busy tattooing and sketching out custom designs and Tauriel never leaves her workroom unless it's a break for her or Bilbo insists she get out for once
  • So the shop is all bright and colorful and filled with designs, some generic and some unique, and Bilbo is dressed in the vest outfit and sitting on the counter in the criss cross applesauce position (how the fuck do you describe that position anymore without using the preschool shorthand someone tell me) and he's beaming down at his 'kids' as they sit on the floor in front of him, all of them laughing as frodo tries to braid tauriel's hair and merry and pippin and sharing a snack and Sam is sketching in his book a gorgeous flower tattoo for his next one but still joining in on the conversation. In walks Thorin and Fili and Kili and everyone turns to look at them and Bilbo is instantly up and smiling warmly, welcoming them in and telling them they can hang up their raincoats, no need for those in here. And Kili is stunned into silence because of Tauriel and Tauriel is blushing a brighter color than her hair because what is this who is this boy who is shorter than her and watching her as if she is the sun and the moon and the stars encompassed in one body that wasn't right he shouldn't be staring stop it stooooop and Fili is looking over the sign for help Bilbo had put up and the boys on the floor don't pay much attention to the newcomers and then there's Thorin and Bilbo and Bilbo is trying to straighten his clothes because oh gods oh gods he's cute and Thorin is watching Bilbo fiddle with his clothes and glances at his tattoos cause oh goodness no one should be that attractive
  • A bunch of stuttered explanations and accidental flirting later and Kili is set up with Tauriel in her room and he's getting his tattoo and Fili is being helped by the boys with his resume and interview and Thorin and Bilbo are chattering away about nothing and then Centuries by Fall Out Boy comes on so the boys perk up and frodo dashes to the sound system without missing a beat and turns it up with a cry of "Bilbo, it's your song!" and Bilbo is laughing and the boys start getting up and dancing to the loud music (Fili included after a bit of arguing) and Bilbo doesn't realize it but he's singing along and then Thorin who knows the song because Kili is constantly playing this album over and over is singing too and they're just grinning while shouting along with the lyrics and they don't take their eyes off of each other and they're completely in sync when the chorus comes on and just "Some legends are told, some turn to dust, some to gold, but you'll remember me... Remember me, for centuries. And just one mistake is all that it takes, we'll go down in history... Remember me, for centuries."
  • Flash forward a few years to their wedding, Thorin's skin a bit more colorful after a few trips to Bilbo, Bilbo's shop more popular that ever with the influx of businessmen that Thorin happens to find and send his way (really, he didn't think so many people hid so many tattoos under those huge suits) and they're grinning and frodo, merry, pippin, Fili, Kili, and Tauriel (the last two unashamedly holding hands and pressed as close together as they can manage) are getting up to make a speech and Bilbo is curious but then they're all speaking in snippits, telling them that they all had ideas as to what sort of speech they could come up with and then they realized they really shouldn't say anything at all, there's something that could say everything they needed for them, and now Bilbo is absolutely intrigued and so is Thorin and everyone else and then they step offstage and Centuries starts playing and Bilbo and Thorin are laughing and grinning and going to hug the troublesome kids close and everyone is singing and some people are really confused but those nine and a few select others know what's going on and they're just so entirely happy and once the song is over Kili just goes "I'm so glad uncle let me get that tattoo"
I'll bet I know what you're thinking.

You’re thinking I don’t look like a divorcee. You know, they’re usually around thirty-five with tight-fitting dresses and high-heel patent leather shoes and big boobs. I look more like the kid in a custody fight. It seemed like I was married for weeks. Actually, it was six days. It wasn’t Jack’s fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. It was just one of those terrible mistakes you make before you can stop yourself even though you know it’s a mistake while you’re doing it. I really can’t talk about him. No, I will talk about him. Once in a while it’s good for you to do something you don’t want to do. It cleanses the insides. He was terribly sweet and groovy-looking, but kind of adolescent, you know what I mean? Girls mature faster than boys. Boys are neater, but girls mature faster. When we met it was like fireworks. I don’t know if I’m saying it right, but it was a marvelous kind of passion that made every day like the Fourth of July. Anyway, the next thing I knew we were getting married. I’d known him two or three weeks, but I mean, there we were getting married! I hadn’t even finished high school and I had two exams the next day and they were on my mind, too. I heard the justice of the peace saying, “Do you, Jack, take Jill to be your lawfully wedded wife? Can you imagine going through life as Jack and Jill? And then I heard "Till death do you part,” and suddenly, it wasn’t a wedding ceremony. It was a funeral service. You know, that wedding ceremony is very morbid when you think about it. I hate anything morbid and there I was being buried alive… under Jack Benson. I wanted to run screaming into the night. But I couldn’t. It was ten o'clock in the morning. I mean, you can’t go screaming out into ten o'clock in the morning… so I passed out. If only I’d fainted before I said “I do.”

Jill, Butterflies are Free