i think it turned out pretty good considering i've never made one before

anonymous asked:

So I've read all your Supercorp stuf on ao3 and if you were going to recommend other fics to read what would you recommend?

okey dokey kiddos buckle up. this list includes fics im currently subscribed to and desperately awaiting an update on and fics i have finished but loved. i did a literal rec bc i wasn’t totally sure what you wanted. if i forgot to mention you or your fic i still love you im just poorly organised pls forgive me.

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Polynesian AU stuff

So, I think I should start making theme posts for my Polynesian AU or as you like to call it Moana AU (both variants are welcome). Since many of you seemed pretty much interested in this story I’ll try to give you a brief idea of what this whole thing is about.

Sorry for my clumsy English :)

Timeline. The story is set about one and a half century after Maui stole Te Fiti’s heart and everything became hell. All the monsters released from Lalotai and darkness spreading quickly and destroying islands made many tribes search for safe areas to stay, and if they used to be more peaceful back then when the ocean was a safer place now they had to fight for their land and protect it from the newcomers. Overall, sailing wasn’t forbidden but people were slowly losing that special connection with the ocean their ancestry used to have.

Turtles. And that’s where we should start speaking about the turts. In this AU all four brothers (not blood-related) are sons of Tu - god of war in Polynesian mythology. There’s a legend (made up of course) that when the number of tribe wars and monster attacks increased other gods made Tu help the people. He decided to send his guardians which would protect people from Lalotai monsters and maybe prevent some war cases. Following what the legend tells the strongest of female sea turtles (turtles are considered to be a symbol of strength and war) gave their eggs to Tu and he placed them on small islands in different regions. One of those islands was our turtles’ birthplace.

Firstly, their names are different in this story. I tried to choose the most fitting ones.

  • Leo is a green sea turtle named Lono which means “peace and prosperity
  • Raph is a leatherback sea turtle named Rapa which means “giant”
  • Donnie is also a green sea turtle named Roro which means “brain” (there’s a lack of names and even words starting with D in Maori and Hawaiian languages so I had to put up with this variant, it isn’t half bad I think)
  • Mikey is a loggerhead sea turtle named Maika which means “good”

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freezing-and-crimson  asked:

This is kinda rude and pathetic to ask. But your writing always cheers me up and I've been so deep in depression that it's not even funny. But could you write a small drabble about Kakashi x Orochimaru taking care of and raising Mitsuki and Log??? If you don't want to then that's fine ^^ don't feel like you have to write something.


It’s a little startling, just how often Kakashi sees his father’s smile echoed so clearly in Mitsuki’s cheerful grins.

Seeing it always gives the same reaction; his breath catches in his throat, his eyes widen, his heart stutters. It’s not pain, the way it might have been before Pein’s invasion. It’s not the aching, crushing grief he carried for so many years. This is closer to joy, light and effervescent and full, and Kakashi smiles back, even though Mitsuki is thoroughly occupied with Boruto right now.

“You know, one could say that it’s your smile as well,” Orochimaru say, amused, as he comes to lean against the balcony railing. Kakashi almost wants to accuse him of reading his mind, but—well. He mentioned it once, helpless in the face of that small connection that shouldn’t be, and Orochimaru’s memory is hardly lacking.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denies, mostly just to be contrary.

Orochimaru’s expression shades towards polite disbelief, but he doesn’t call Kakashi on it. “You have good DNA,” he says instead, gaze flickering back to their son.

Kakashi rolls his eyes, just a little, because coming from the Sannin that’s absolutely a compliment, but it would probably send anyone else screaming for the hills. Sometimes Kakashi wonders why he doesn’t do the same, except for the fact that he’s always been a little light on self-preservation.

Besides, two pieces of his DNA are currently wandering around the Hokage Mansion. Kakashi might not cop to much, but that’s…pretty incredible.

“Rogu?” he asks, because he knows from experience that it’s never a good idea to let his older son stay out of sight too long.

Orochimaru’s amusement says that he sees right through Kakashi’s casual question, and also remembers that time with Gai, the melons, and the exploding tags just as clearly as Kakashi does, if likely for different reasons.

(Kakashi is scarred, all right? There was definite mental trauma happening that day, even if Tsunade laughed him out of her office when he told her that.)

“Occupying himself,” Orochimaru says breezily, as if that’s any sort of comfort at all. He turns precisely, already stepping back towards their bedroom, and adds, “I’m going to R&D if you—”

“I don’t think so.” Maybe Genma is right about mild insanity and suicidal bravery being the prerequisite for becoming a jounin—not that he has any room to talk, the jerk—but Kakashi grabs him around the waist, dodges the knife-hand blow that would have crushed the windpipe of anyone slower, and steers him back towards the freshly-made bed. “You’re not leaving me here alone with four children.”

The amusement on Orochimaru’s face is well-hidden behind a veil of black hair and his half-hearted struggles. “Kakashi, Sarada and Boruto are perfectly polite children—”

“One is Sasuke and Naruto’s child, and the other is Sakura’s,” Kakashi says firmly. “And Mitsuki is terrifying.”

Conspicuously, Orochimaru doesn’t argue this point. “I just made the bed,” he complains instead, and when Kakashi pauses to eye him disbelievingly, there’s a quicksilver flash of a smirk before a foot is sweeping his legs out from under him.

Kakashi is the Hokage and has been a shinobi for over thirty years now; he’s not about to be taken down by a trick like that, so when he falls he grabs Orochimaru and drags him down onto the mattress with him. There’s a brief but fierce struggle to pin each other—Kakashi mostly wins due to extra body mass and feels no shame in admitting it—and when it ends, Orochimaru is watching Kakashi with narrowed eyes and the shadow of a smirk on his lips.

They’re very pretty lips, Kakashi thinks, gaze flickering to them, and can see the exact moment Orochimaru catches it. His eyes darken, features sliding towards smugly amused, and—

Well. Kakashi had never though he’d end up here, that morning when Konoha’s most famous semi-pardoned missing-nin marched into his office with two small children in tow and an aggravated Suigetsu mislabeled my DNA samples so these are yours, Hatake in explanation. Hadn’t even vaguely considered it, but…he’s come to the conclusion that he doesn’t really mind.

Mitsuki’s laugh, loud and bright from outside the window, sounds just like his father’s as well.

Carefully, he tugs his mask off, leaning down to kiss Orochimaru slowly and thoroughly. There’s a satisfied hum as clever fingers curl around the back of his neck, and it’s lazy and languid and full of banked heat.

There’s a sudden groan from the hallway outside their bedroom, followed by an annoyed, “Don’t you know how doors work? I don’t want to see that,” and then hurried steps as Rogu retreats with speed.

Kakashi can’t help but think of that morning, when Sasuke came to drop of Boruto and caught them kissing in the kitchen. Usually Kakashi has to work a lot harder to inflict that level of trauma on his cute former students, so he’s calling this a good day.

Still. Rogu moving with any sort of alacrity outside of an actual fight, even in the face of parental PDA, is usually a bad sign. Kakashi looks down at Orochimaru, who arches a brow right back, and has to sit back with a resigned sigh.

Somewhere in the distance, something explodes. Equal odds as to whether it’s Rogu’s fault or the Terrible Threesome’s.

“I feel like we should ignore that,” Kakashi says lightly.

Orochimaru’s smirk is knowing. “Is the Rokudaime Hokage really afraid of the mischief of children?” he asks, as if that’s a fair question at all.

“My children,” Kakashi reminds him, ducking down for one more quick kiss. “Your children.”

With a hum, Orochimaru concedes the point. “In my defense, I thought I was using the Nidaime’s DNA.”

Like that would have been better. Kakashi lets one raised brow speak for him.

Chuckling, Orochimaru slides out from underneath him, as unexpected but lithe as a snake, and rises to his feet. “I’m required at R&D,” he informs Kakashi, flashing him a sly smile. “Have fun with the children, my dear.”

Kakashi groans and feels entirely justified flopping face-first into the pillows.

Long fingers stroke through his hair, but Orochimaru darts away when Kakashi tries to grab him again. Footsteps—deliberate, Kakashi knows, since the smug bastard can’t be bothered to make noise when walking at any other time—retreat out the door, and Kakashi sighs, smelling smoke.

This is definitely payback for what he inflicted on his father in childhood, he thinks wryly, levering himself up. There’s no doubt at all.

He grabs the spray bottle sitting on the bedside table, straightens his clothes, and heads out to hunt down his children.

anonymous asked:

I've always considered that Steve never telling Tony about his parents was pretty human. It's sort of given. I think most people have those moments in their lives where they just can't bring themselves tell someone something they should know but the words just don't come out. It's a relatable thing. What I don't get is that for once Steve does this one thing wrong and he's endlessly demonized for it while other characters get to fuck up again and again and again.

And also like, it’s understandable? Really, what would it have achieved for Steve to call Tony up at some point and be like “Yo dude, so we’re not really friends but I thought I should tell you, my closest friend Bucky, Hydra turned him into The Winter Soldier against his will and he was made to kill your parents, also i don’t know where he is right now. Anyway, have a good evening, talk to you next time the Avengers are needed.”

Like???? It would have achieved literally nothing. Steve and Tony were not friends in the MCU. They just weren’t. However you slice it, the closest bond you can get is work place colleagues. All it would have done was put Bucky in more danger. And it wasn’t his story to tell. Bucky is the most important person to Steve. If you know something about your best friend, do you just tell that information to other people - regardless of how it would affect your favourite person? Of course you don’t, because it’s their information to tell and also you got their back, you look out for them.

Also, Natasha knew before Steve did but people just wanna be mad at my boy and conveniently forget that piece of information.

anonymous asked:

Is it wrong for fans to take Yume as abusive? I've read an ask where the anon said she was in an abusive family (or have experienced abuse) and that yume is not abuse. She also said that it's sad how people belittle abuse. She even wished for a father like Kaname.

I would never want to speak over someone’s personal experiences with abuse and come across as invalidating that experience, because I myself only have secondhand experience with it (through friends and family), therefore I would not consider myself an authority on this subject. If this anon does not feel triggered by Kaname’s behaviour, I can only be glad for her sake that this is the case and I would recommend she not read this post which could be triggering, so I’m adding an abuse tw to be safe and suicide tw for any of my followers who need that tagged. :) 

That being said, there are different kinds of abuse, and I have also spoken with people who have felt triggered by some of Kaname’s behaviour because it was reminiscent of abusive people from their own life, and I feel their experiences and voices should also be respected and not invalidated. Some of Kaname’s behaviour is abusive, and we only need to look at the impact the relationship has on Yuuki to recognize that the relationship was extremely unhealthy and unbalanced. Yuuki goes from being a bright, vibrant young girl to a girl who blames herself for everything bad that ever happened in the series and believes her very existence should have been erased to prevent it. She becomes suicidal because she believes her death will fix everything and heal everyone she thinks was hurt, not by her actions or even lack of action, but simply because she was born. It is Kaname who leads to her feeling this way, regardless of whether or not it was his intention.

Personally I think it is fair to view the relationship as abusive and I think Hino herself was pretty unapologetic about Kaname’s behaviour, because:

  • She had two characters visit Yuuki in a scene that served no other purpose than calling to attention the fact that Yuuki was dressing differently and that she appeared to be under house arrest. Why did Hino feel the need to call this out if the narrative was condoning Kaname’s choices? She deliberately brought readers attention to the red flag behaviour where otherwise they might not have noticed, and this was for a reason. 
  • In case that wasn’t enough, since people at the time thought Yuuki’s change of clothes was because she was a Kuran pureblood and had to keep up appearances, Kaname literally says the reason why he forbade her from cutting her hair and made her wear certain clothes was because a part of him wanted to keep her away from everyone but him, and he was sorry but “please allow me to deprive you a little of your freedom.” It had nothing to do with Yuuki’s upgrade in society.
  • She literally had him threaten suicide to keep Yuuki from leaving??? He gave her Artemis back to show her that he meant what he said about how he’d rather she kill him herself than leave. Yuuki thinks about it several times over and feels immense guilt at being the one who “made him say such a thing.” There’s no putting a positive spin on that, it’s emotional blackmail, and - yep - also abusive behaviour.
  • She had Kaname admit that he stole the heartfelt smile from Yuuki’s face before he told her his true identity, because he couldn’t face his contradictory feelings and imposed unreasonable demands on her. If his demands were “unreasonable,” and a result of his contradiction - where he was torn between wanting to chain Yuuki down or setting her free - I’m not really sure how people misinterpret this to be for Yuuki’s “own good” when Kaname admits that it wasn’t. He was making excuses for his behaviour because of his contradictory feelings, not because those excuses were legitimate, and I’ll explore that more later in this post.

And, I mean, that’s just the surface of their relationship and the most obvious examples referenced in fandom, it’s far from everything - more on that later. But regardless of whether or not Hino really intended for Kaname’s behaviour to be viewed as abusive, there is still no obligation on fans to accept it. Sometimes, it is even more important to address what the narrative will not, because ultimately saying “it’s just a story” is ignoring the fact that we are influenced by the media we consumeand over time can become desensitized to certain things without ever realizing it. 

I understand that this is a very controversial topic in this fandom, and also a controversial topic on a much larger scale, so I’ve tagged accordingly and I will be putting the rest of my response on this behind a cut. I also apologize for sitting on this message for as long as I did. This isn’t a topic I usually get into in the fandom, and I decided if I was going to talk about it at all I was going to do it right and turn it into a full fledged meta post.

Reminder that I tag posts that are critical of Kaname and Yuuki’s relationship as anti yume.

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Equations For Help [Zig/MC]

Title: Equations For Help
Fandom: Pixelberry Choices; The Freshman Book 3
Characters: Zig;MC
Pairing: ZigxMC
Rating: T
Warning: None
Summary: She needed help with maths.
Note: I actually suck at maths so don’t expect any mathmatical terminology. This was just suppose to be sweet fluff.
Note 2: Inspired by this post here.

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I Need a Hero

Shance week Day 4 - AU Day (also encompassing Day 1 - Pining/Confession, Day 2 - Hero/Villain, Day 3 - Confidence/Insecurity). Garrison freshman Shiro has it bad for senior Lance. AO3

Prompt thanks entirely to @ghostering/leporicide - commission them, it’ll be worth it! - then please have a moment of silence for me for being daft enough to try to incorporate all the prompts so far in one go.

Shiro had wanted him when he was nobody - a nobody who didn’t know his place, a cargo pilot who walked like he was fighter class and talked like a playboy despite leaving a trail of eyerolling irritation in his wake. At first, Shiro had seen what others had seen, had written Lance off as the tryhard senior everyone else saw, but all it had taken was one glimpse of Lance on the other side of a crowded room, alone against a wall with all the acceptance of one resigned to his solitude, and Shiro had fallen for him so fast he’d actually felt his stomach lurch. Lance’s face had been slack with sadness, usually-wide mouth small. In that one moment he’d seemed so quiet, so soft and fuck, Shiro wanted to destroy him.

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anonymous asked:

gallavich prompt: can you do something where one of them has an accident and forgets who the other is? :)

// ok I’ve given this my best shot…it’s a total standalone, full on oneshot, completely unrelated to my gallavich queer club universe (but trust me there is lots more of that coming!) enjoy //

‘Im sorry Mr Gallagher but he has amnesia.’

Ian sighed. 'But he’s going to remember? It’ll come back?’

'We can’t know anything for certain. I don’t want to promise something that may not happen. You’re free to visit him now, though. He’s awake.’

So Ian walked slowly down the corridor, breathing in the harsh chemical smell of the hospital. He just wanted to get to the room and see Mickey, yet he walked slower than ever. He knew that every step he took was a step closer to discovering something terrible.

'Can I come in?’, he called, knocking on the door. The man in the bed frowned at him, confused.

'I think you have the wrong room, man,’ he said, shrugging blankly.

Ian’s heart almost stopped. 'Mickey. It’s me. It’s Ian’, he whispered, shocked.

Mickey’s eyes widened. 'How the fuck do you know my name?’, he said, his tone suspicious and body inching away from Ian in caution, who had now entered the room.

Ian couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 'I know your name, Mickey Milkovich, because I have loved you for just shy of eight years.’

'I’m not a fucking fag,’ Mickey spat aggressively, but his eyes were fearful.

'You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Ian muttered incredulously. Mickey had reverted back to how he was before coming out. Before even knowing Ian. He walked up close to Mickey and got up close, the words falling slowly but piercingly out of his mouth. 'I don’t know what year you think you’re in, but back in 2014, you came out. You practically screamed it. Your dad beat the shit out of us, but we won. We went home and showered together and we didn’t fuck that night. We kissed with our broken faces and just lay side by side all night. Toe to toe, head to head. I held you. I kissed away your tears. And then, Mickey, then you rested your ear over my chest and you fell asleep listening to my heartbeat.’ Mickey was staring at him, paralysed. Ian wondered if he’d gone too far, but he didn’t stop. 'I know your name, Mickey Milkovich, because I can’t count the number of times I’ve fucking screamed out your name each time you coaxed my body into an orgasm…which you reciprocated nicely, might I add. Usually I top. But liking what you like don’t make you a bitch, isn’t that right?’

'I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but you need to shut your fucking mouth,’ Mickey practically whimpered. Then Ian calmed down a little. He realised that this wasn’t Mickey’s fault. So he spoke softly and less aggressively.

'I know your name, Mickey Milkovich, because six months ago, we got married. In the park here in Chicago. Our sisters were bridesmaids. Your brothers didn’t show up. But mine became yours. Lip was my best man. Kev was yours. And Yev was ring bearer. Your son - our son.’ Mickey was speechless. 'He’s almost five. And these are the rings he carried down the aisle to us,’ Ian said, holding up his hand to show the thick, plain silver band snug on his fourth finger. Then he tentatively reached out to run his thumb over Mickey’s identical ring. Mickey instinctively snatched his hand away like Ian’s touch burned him. 'In your vows, you told me that you loved me beyond any and all things. And you told me again later, when it was just us, because I still couldn’t believe it. It felt like a dream. Because I love you too, Mickey. So, so much,’ Ian told him, tears in his eyes, desperate. He clasped Mickey’s hand now and held on, his husband’s hand, the hand he knew better than his own, as he cried silently.

Mickey stared at their hands, fingering the ring on his finger, frowning. 'I don’t know where to even begin…they told me I had some amnesia but…how could I forget so much? There’s just, years and years missing. Years with you, apparently. You don’t seem like the sort of guy I could forget’, he whispered.

Ian raised his eyebrows. 'Was that - are you flirting?’ he almost laughed.

Mickey looked away awkwardly. 'Look, I know I’m gay. I’ve always known. I never kiss guys. Don’t want them to get attached…well. I don’t want to get attached to them, honestly.’

'You kiss me plenty. All of that playing-it-straight crap went to shit after a couple years with me.’

'Am I really married? To you?’ Ian reached for his wallet.

'I’ll bring more pictures from home, tomorrow - but I always have this one with me. This is us. Last May.’ Ian showed him the little rectangular picture.

'We look good,’ Mickey remarked, but the two men in tuxes with matching grins looked like strangers to him. There was a pause. 'Do I really have a kid?’

'Yes. He’s here,’ Ian said, flipping the pockets of the wallet over and revealing a photo from a year or so ago, of Yev sat on the couch at Ian and Mickey’s place. 'Yevgeny. We all call him Yev.’

'What kind of a -’


'Why?’ Ian considered how to answer. 'Who’s his mother?’

Ian sighed. 'It’s a long story. I’ll tell you another day.’ Mickey didn’t persist.

'How did we meet?’

Ian smiled. 'It was 2011. We were still living out our teenage years, though yours were nearly over. You thought I’d - hurt your sister and you just burst into the shop where I used to work, screaming out my name. Wouldn’t be the last time you did that…anyway. We didn’t really meet until I came to your place one morning. We started out fighting, pretty hard, but then you pinned me down and - I just remember our eyes locked and we just stared at each other, and we just knew. And then we were just doing it. Fucking in your twin bed. I was fifteen. Shit.’ He sighed. 'We kept hooking up in secret. Always rushing through the sex. Terrified of getting discovered. That was more you than me, but still. We didn’t even kiss for, like, two years. Not that I didn’t try. But we used to flirt shamelessly. That was more me than you. You were nothing like anyone I’d ever known. I didn’t think you could exist. But you did. Eventually you seemed to just accept that you wanted me and you weren’t going to deny yourself pleasure anymore. It was literally destroying you, Mick.’


Ian had gone to get them both coffee. On the walk back, he reflected. It was still unbelievable. And unfair. But when hadn’t things been with them? He didn’t know how he could tell Mickey everything. Svetlana. Terry. His bipolar. The accident. How could everything about them have been wiped clean out of his head?

As he returned, he was broken out of these thoughts by Mickey’s voice ringing down the corridor. He was…singing? Ian listened.

'And I don’t want the world to see me, cos I don’t think that they’d understand’, Mickey sang, scratchy but pure.

Ian stood in the doorway, frozen. Mickey noticed. 'Are you ok?’, he asked.

'Mick…why were you singing that song?’, he asked in a choked whisper.

Mickey shrugged. 'I don’t actually know. I seem to remember it from somewhere. And it’s - it’s nice. I guess,’ he said, puzzled. 'Why?’

Ian stepped inside the room slowly. 'That was the song we danced to at our wedding. It’s our song, it’s our fucking song’, he said, then sang the next line, voice shaking, 'when everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.’

They didn’t say anything. They just stared at each other, both searching for things that the other didn’t know how to give.

Mickey slowly slipped off the ring and held it. 'So I can remember our wedding song but not the wedding’, he murmured bitterly.

Ian noticed Mickey’s eyes fill with tears. He knew him well enough to know that any second he would begin crying. He walked over and held Mickey, not caring if the gesture was too sudden - if his husband was crying, he was going to comfort him. Sure enough, Mickey gave a loud sob, then tears fell down his face as he began to cry. Ian absentmindedly stroked his neck, planted little kisses in his hair; it was second nature. 'Sorry,’ he said after a moment, worrying Mickey would react adversely to the affection.

Mickey shook his head. 'It’s fine. It’s - nice. That’s not it.’

'Then what?’

'It’s just…I want to remember it, all of it. Not only for my sake but for yours too, this isn’t fair to either of us’, Mickey sobbed.

Ian nodded. 'I know. I know’, he said, feeling tears sting his own eyes. After everything they’d been out through, this just felt like the sickest, most fucked up twist of fate.

Mickey slowly turned and looked at Ian. He had somehow ended up curled against Ian’s chest, a familiar position. They were so close; Ian could feel his breath on his neck and it took all the strength he had not to kiss Mickey. It was too soon, it was too soon, he kept telling himself.

But then Mickey reached up, slowly, tracing the outline of Ian’s face. Tentative at first, then coming to cradle Ian’s face in his palm. Mickey’s eyes fell to his lips.

'Oh fuck,’ Ian murmured, and gave in. He kissed him hard, and then Mickey returned the kiss, deepened it. Ian’s hands ran through Mickey’s hair and they really tasted each other. Ian couldn’t get enough of him, no matter how familiar he was. That was the beauty of it.

'Your kiss. I’ve had it before’, Mickey said breathlessly.

Ian smiled. 'My lips are clearly a pretty unforgettable experience’, he smiled through his tears. Mickey laughed.


Mickey had fallen asleep in his arms and Ian had stayed, holding him. It reminded him of old times, before the accident. They lay together on the bed, Ian breathing in the same old smell. The blood and the hospital couldn’t erase it; it was, unmistakably, home.

'Ian? Are you awake?’, he whispered.

Ian looked down at his husband. 'Yeah. I’m here.’

'I just want to say. I’m - I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this. I can’t imagine how hard it must be’, he said.

'It’s not your fault’, Ian began, but Mickey cut across -

'regardless. I’m sorry. And when the doctor sees me tomorrow, I’m going to find out how I can beat this thing - if I can. If I can’t, well…’, he trailed off, unsure what would happen.

'Then we’ll work through it. I vowed to take you in sickness and in health’, Ian reminded him. 'God knows you’ve done that for me. Look, I love you, Mickey. I will always love you. And I know you’ve forgotten how to love me, but I’ll remind you. I want you to remember, to feel it all again’, he whispered, kissing his neck.

Mickey smiled. 'Thank you, firecrotch,’ he muttered as his eyes closed, drifting back into sleep.

Ian’s heart jolted and he closed his eyes, grinning, as more tears came. 'You’re on your way back, aren’t you,’ he whispered, kissing Mickey’s forehead gently. He didn’t think his old nickname had ever made him cry before.

But that was their relationship. Expect the unexpected. Always.

// the end! PLEASE keep sending me prompts, I gotta write every day this month! //

Pt 3: Percy/Annabeth Swap

(Part 1 can be found here, Part 2 here

  • Percy spends the year at Camp, like usual, but this time it’s different
  • There’s no Luke, and Percy trains harder than usual, much harder
  • He becomes a lot better with Riptide, and changes his style from fighting with a dagger to fighting with a sword
  • He’s actually pretty good naturally. He was always good with a dagger, but Chiron thinks he might be even better with Riptide
  • Percy keeps in contact with Annabeth, but she’s going to school in New York, and is pretty busy herself
  • It turns out she’s made a new friend. His name’s Tyson, and he’s bullied. Annabeth takes sympathy on him
  • Soon enough, bad things start happening at Camp
  • Thalia’s tree starts dying. Percy’s the first one who notices, because he likes to spend time by the tree
  • They soon discover she’s been poisoned, and that’s when Percy becomes desperate
  • To make things even worse, he’s been having dreams about Grover, dreams that involve a cyclops
  • Percy hates cyclopses
  • It comes from his encounter with a cyclops when he, Thalia and Luke were on the run, and were captured by a cyclops in a cave. They almost died
  • Ever since then, Percy’s had a dislike for cyclopses, and so he’s worried for Grover
  • He needs Annabeth if they’re going to go on a quest, so after thinking over it for a while, he finally decides to leave Camp and go get her
  • He turns up just as Annabeth is attacked by giants, but they get out of it
  • They soon reach Camp, but Annabeth’s friend Tyson tags along
  • They reach back just as Chiron is leaving, having been replaced by Tantalus
  • Percy is distraught
  • He doesn’t acknowledge this is goodbye, because he knows he’s going to get Chiron back
  • It’s only then they realise that Tyson is a cyclops
  • Percy immediately scrambles away from him, leaving Annabeth confused
  • Unfortunately, when Tyson is claimed by Poseidon that evening, Percy gets a new brother… one he most certainly does not want

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Ego Vesco, Ergo Sum - a KHR/TG au

(i consume*, therefore i am)

* eat. feed. devour. enjoy. live.

canon-typical warnings apply below. implied cannibalism, mild gore, off-handed violence, etc etc it’s Tokyo Ghoul that should be it’s own warning. not a full write up, just some Stuff.

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anonymous asked:

beck finds out that mark was using Vicodin as a condiment for his potatoes :O


Three days of silent treatment and Mark was about ready to smash his head repeatedly against the nearest airlock until he could watch all the stupid still in there fly into space.

Because he was stupid. So, so stupid. He’d thought he reached the pinnacle of Mount Stupid when he blew himself up in the hab, but nope.

‘Breathing inside Hydrogenville’ had officially been downgraded to ‘small oversight’, as ‘Mentioning Mark’s appalling Mars seasoning choices while in Dr Beck’s presence’ took the ‘Greatest Stupid Move in Mark Watney’s Life’ award home. Well done.

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kyogre-blue  asked:

I saw some displeasure about YoI in the tags. I've got mixed feelings about it, so I'd be really interested in hearing a negative opinion to contrast all the glowing praise I've been seeing. Um, if you don't mind.

ANMFKJD G I NEVER THOUGHT I’D SEE THIS IN MY ASK. But hello, it’s Grahm, and boi do I have some gripes about yuri on ice. 

As a preface, I’m bi n transmasculine so if i get people callin me homophobic because i have hatred for this ship ill be pickin apart, bye im a mlm so I’m directly affected by the stereotypes presented.

In this show, there are major flaws. I could not tell you the plot, the animation is terribad, and its getting boring seeing Yuuri do the same type of routine every episode he’s in a competition? Everybody else has a different program but I guess that might be a Me thing. But I could look past that if there weren’t some gross as heck stereotypes towards LGB+ people. 

When Yuuri meets Viktor, theres an ass shot. Obvious pandering to fangirls out there. Then there’s Chris and his routine that makes everybody uncomfortable where he basically busts a nut in front of thousands of people. Again, fanservice. Then we have how touchy-feely Viktor and Yuuri are. 

There’s nothing wrong with being close to somebody. Me n comet are always just chillin near each other. But how YOI went about it, it’s way too sexualized and promotes the fact all LGBT+ people are Sex Demons. Personally, I noticed immediately that it wasn’t natural. The jumping around the anime does makes it hard to keep track. And there’s Off Screen Bonding that we don’t get to see; the sudden closeness of Yuuri and Viktor makes no sense considering how little bonding they’ve done if you really think about it. It leaves an odd disjointed feeling to the entire scope of things and takes the fun out of the slow burn. 

Regardless of that though, Yuuri and Viktor are coded like the ~traditional~ heterosexual relationship. This is where the woman is dainty and traditionally feminine while the guy is dominant and traditionally masculine. Yuuri acts more masculine while Viktor can be looked at as the feminine coded one. Viktor is always helping Yuuri get ready [tying his skates, putting lip balm on him, blowing his nose for him, etc] That’s the traditional wife taking care of her husband. A majority of mlm relationships don’t have that kind of dynamic. And to see that as excellent representation?? It’s not a good thing to see because if that’s all the representation we have, young impressionable people won’t see any different in real life.

And when you consider the power imbalance it is just gross. Yuuri idolizes Viktor WAY too much for it to ever be a good relationship. He’s holding Viktor up on a pedestal and it’s easy to manipulate somebody without even meaning to when you’re in that position. 

Moving on, the YOI fandom makes it seem like this is so revolutionary of an anime. When no…it’s not? After the kiss, they acted like nothing happened? When you’d tihnk they’d address it if it was such an important part of the plot. In any show, they always put so much weight to whenever somebody kisses another because it’s seen as a sign of romance. Yet YOI completely ignores it like it never happened, doesn’t even have Yuuri like flash back to it and act happy it happened. Like that’s not something you would do if your partner just kissed you and even if it’s gonna be played off as , “European’s kiss people all the time!!” that’s still so much queerbaiting because they drew us in with the intent that there would be a mlm relationship when no, they got fricking gal pal’d basically. 

One of my other problems is they just…ignore the homophobic/transphobic nature Japan has?? They do not have very many rights laws in place for LGBT+ people and to just ignore that all together and how harmful it is to people in ice skating is sloppy and disconcerting. 

They’re acting like it’s not a thing when Viktor is based off a real life skater, Johnny G. Weir. He was berated and docked points because he was too “flamboyant” before he even came out as being gay. Japan assumed he was LGB+. Yet YOI acts like that was never a thing and everything’s all fine and dandy. If they made it a point to say, “Hey, yeah LGBT+-phobia is dumb as heck but we’re past it in this universe”, that’d be acceptable but they just don’t bring it up at all. 

But ice skating is openly homophobic and ignoring it like there’s nothing to see is like America trying to ignore how racist they were in the past by putting up laws prohibiting teachers from saying that the slave trade was the reason for the civil war. They’re trying to say it doesn’t happen and tackle it headon. If they showed Yuuri and Viktor going through the discrimination and homophobia while coming out stronger, that’s a fantastic dynamic and problem to tackle. It affects millions of people daily, LGBT+ discrimination, but YOI doesn’t feel like it’s important enough to include I guess.

All in all, YOI is pretty cheaply made. The animation is sloppy with yuuri having a damn noodle and half the budget was spent on animating asses. It’s a shame because I was looking forward to it since ice skating is a beautiful sport. I am not here, though, for the queerbaiting garbage YOI has turned out to be as it actively portrays mlm in a bad light and sexualizes us even more than we need.

about the seemingly never-ending studyblr aesthetic debate (which has been going on for over a year now, yikes):

i see a lot of ppl point out that studyblr is a very romanticized version of studying. one that leaves out the tears and all nighters and cramming and failing tests and stressing about college and whatever else. also: it’s all pretty notes and supplies and ppl who don’t care about learning, only aesthetic + attention. 

i agree that it can come off as romanticized, but u have to think about why. do you not see how this can motivate people to study? i feel much more inclined to study if i associate it with likable things. my old idea of studying was stress and tears and ripped out notebook pages and staying up till 3am and then getting a b sometimes anyway. now it’s actually something i enjoy. it’s still stressful and i admire when people talk about (what they consider to be) failures on here, and we should absolutely talk about how hard this is and help each other out in that regard. but i think it’s beneficial (for some people at least) to turn studying into ~an experience~. 

that’s not to say there aren’t problems. i’ve heard about people buying things because they felt like they needed to have them to be a “good studyblr” and rewriting notes even tho it didn’t help them for the same reason. i used to get caught up in that too, so i honestly understand the feeling. no one should feel like they need to own something or study a certain way in order to do well & be appreciated, and i think we should emphasize that more. i’m guilty of not talking about the cheaper things i own because i’m not actually too well off and i was raised to feel ashamed of it, but i’ll try harder and i think others should too. the same goes for sharing your more ~messy~ notes (if you’re comfortable). ppl shouldn’t feel like they can’t be a studyblr bc they don’t own x or their handwriting is messy. we should all be making sure people don’t feel like that.

basically: the world cares about aesthetic. it’s okay to care, it’s okay not to. it’s okay if your motivation for studying is going to the coffee shop and having pretty handwriting and so on. it’s okay if you feel like having a nice pen makes you more motivated to write. it’s okay if you don’t give a damn about that and just wanna learn w/ the basics. it’s 2016, minimalism is v cool and mature u guys. do what u want. don’t pressure other people and don’t feel pressured to do something when it’s not right/possible for u. realize that taking pretty notes is helpful for people, especially mentally ill people. also realize that doctors are known for having awful handwriting, and if they made it through med school like that, u can make it through high school. 

studyblr needs to be a place where ppl get motivated & learn. this stuff is obviously easier said than done, ik. but we all gotta try because this fighting, while super understandable, is silly af and not helping us accomplish anything.

Title: Love is Blind
Words: 4287
A/N: I’ve been working on this for weeks now but it’s a rewrite of an old fic I did a long time go ( no you won’t find it probably ) and it’s a gift for my dear friend @arikafd‘s birthday! And I swear I was working on this before that chapter. 

The first day of school, a very important day for new students. It determined your popularity, your cliques, all about the rest of your time at that school. It was determined by your personality and how you dressed really. Lucy had let her mom pick out her clothes, again. Her nurse had been trying to teach her how to decide her own clothes by the different textures. But she wasn’t taking any risks.

It would be hard enough to fit in as it was.

Now she walked, her hand gripping tightly against her mom’s hand, sunglasses glistening from the sun. She heard laughter all around her, people buzzing about…general movement. Much more chaos than her last school had, had.

Layla, Lucy’s mother, whispered gently about watching her step on the door. But feeling her cane tap against the door frame signaled her to take a step up.  This was it, the big moment she had been excited about and dreading. Grip would tighten on her mother’s hand, who of course gave a reassuring squeeze back.

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Hello everyone! I just wanted to say that I am super grateful for all of the positive feedback I have been getting on my goat mom cosplay!  Believe it or not I was super nervous about that cosplay before katsucon and was considering “turning it down a notch” the day of the con since I felt I was inexperienced with latex prosthetics, doing poi in platform heels, etc. BUT I’m glad I ended up going full throttle on my original plan because it has brought me here! Making this masterpost. Because my inbox has been overflowing with lovely comments and questions about my goat mom and I feel terrible not being able to personally reply to all of them. :) So lets get started by answering the most FAQS I received over the past week or so! 

Continued under the cut!

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anonymous asked:

Hi there!! I just wanted to say I've read all of your sterek fics and I am absolutely in love, you are such a good writer and I hope you continue! ^u^ if it's okay, I saw you've taken prompts in the past—could I maybe ask for a bit of expansion on an idea I /think/ you've talked about before? Derek took a lot of pride in his body, does he ever get self conscious or down when he looks in the mirror and sees the chub and the big belly when he was once totally ripped? Does stiles help him through?

Derek had always sort of, in the back of his mind, thought of himself as someone who was above vanity.  What the fuck did he care about looks, when he had so many more pressing concerns, so many other legitimate problems?  His body was a tool.  A weapon.  A manifestation of his strength and power.  Not something “pretty.”  

It turns out, though, that it’s really easy to say looks don’t matter when you have them. 

When he first started putting on weight, he was able to ignore it.  He put on a solid twenty pounds before he really even had to consider it–and even then, he could still see his abs–at least the top ones, at least when he flexed.  And his shoulders, his arms?  Still looked fucking great.  He just went up a size in jeans and tried not to think about it. 

Another twenty, though–all of which seems to have landed directly on his gut–and he can’t pretend it’s not happening, or that it’s not a big deal.  It is a big deal.  His abs are long gone, buried completely under a ball of pudge that sticks out even when he sucks in, which is increasingly hard to do. 

And his face.  His fucking face.  Look, Derek knows he’s good looking.  The Hales are all blessed with a genetic disposition toward incredibly bad luck and incredibly good bone structure.  But now that bone structure is blurred under soft cheeks, his dimples are deeper than they’ve ever been, and he has–insult of insults–something perilously close to a double chin.  Especially when he looks down.

When he outgrows the new jeans, when he gets dressed one morning and just absolutely cannot get them to button, even when he lies down flat on his back, he has to admit it to himself that he’s getting–fuck.  Fat, he’s getting fat. 

Of course, Stiles walks into the bedroom at exactly the moment when Derek has given up trying to button his jeans and is sitting on the edge of the bed, round ball of his tummy sitting shamelessly over the never-going-to-meet-again tabs of his jeans. 

“Hey,” he says, grinning like a kid on Christmas. 

Derek just glares at him. 

“Aw, don’t look so pissed,” Stiles says, keeping his eyes wide and innocent even when they’re darting down to Derek’s belly shamelessly. 

“My jeans don’t fit.”

“I see that,” Stiles says, mouth tugging up at both corners. 

“Goddamn it, Stiles.”

“What, baby?”  Stiles plops down next to him, expression shifting to something more serious.  “So they don’t fit?  So fucking what?  We’ll go buy you new jeans.”

“I don’t want new jeans.  I want to fit in the jeans I have.”

“Why?”  Stiles reaches out, carefully laying a hand over the roundest, most embarrassing part of Derek’s tummy.  He looks up at Derek, big brown eyes intense.  “I don’t want that.  At all.”

Derek frowns.  He knows Stiles has been weirdly on board with his weight gain, taking a sudden interest in baking, shoving cookies and brownies and cakes and shit on him at every available opportunity, but they’ve never really talked about it.  He runs a hand over the side of his gut, jostling it a little.  It jiggles under Stiles’ hand, and Stiles inhales sharply. “You don’t miss the six pack?”

“God no.”  He rolls his eyes, his cheeks a little pink.  “I–uh–this is better.  So much better.”

“I’m fat,” Derek says, partially because it’s true but also because he, perversely, wants to try the word out, roll it around in his mouth and see how it feels to say it. 

“Just chunky,” Stiles says promptly, squeezing a little on Derek’s tummy.  He grins.  “You could get fat, though.  I would–ah, I would be so okay with it.  I would make you cookies every goddamn day.”

“You made me cookies every day this week, Stiles.”

“You ate ‘em.”

“That’s the problem.”

“If I wanna make ‘em and you wanna eat ‘em, then what’s the problem?”

Derek rolls his eyes.  “I guess just the jeans.”

“See?”  Stiles grins up at him, obnoxious and sweet.  “I told you so.”

Thank you so much for the kind words, anon!  I’m sorry this prompt took so long for me to write–especially since it was such a good one! 

Belle - Dean Winchester x Reader (Beauty and The Beast AU) - Part 8

Title: Belle

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: None I can think of :)

Word Count:1,393

A/N: This took forever but I think it’s okay. Feedback is always welcome and thank you for sticking with me while I take my time to write this XD There’s about 5 parts left, unless you want longer chapters and then there will be fewer parts -  let me know!

(GIF found on google, credit to whoever made it)

All parts here!

“What if he doesn’t like it?”

“Oh honey, of course he will, in all my years I’ve never seen a dress as breathtaking as this,” Ellen smiled.

You knew she was right. It was nothing like you’d ever seen before, simple yet stunning. The yellow shone like the sun burning brightly on a hot summers day. The fabric fell flawlessly over your body, it was perfect.

As Ellen sent Charlie to tell Dean you were almost ready you slid on a bracelet, added a few finishing touches to your make-up and then began to make your way to the staircase.

It felt like something out of a movie. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear you made your descent. Each step felt just right and when you saw Dean standing there it was almost as if everything was falling into place. Dean didn’t say much as you joined him at the bottom of the stairs, he just stood mouth hanging open slightly. Pushing his jaw up you joked,

“Careful Winchester, you’ll catch flies.” 

Abruptly fixing his posture and linking his arm with yours you began to walk to the front door.

“Shall we?” He asked.

“We shall.” With a final turn of the door knob and a cool breeze of air your were on your way. 

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deancas, powerball fic, 1k, i don’t know what this is

“Twenty-two,” Dean says softly, leaning over Cas’s shoulder. “January. The time we got caught in that blizzard and couldn’t leave our motel for the entire day.”

“That was tragic,” Cas says quietly, sounding like he’s smiling, as he fills in 22 on the play slip. Then 8. “First time you took me out to dinner, May eighth.”

Yikes, that’s not a memory Dean actually wants to remember. “Fifteen,” Dean says. “Fifteenth of March, first time I said ‘I love you’,” he presses a light kiss to the back of Cas’s neck.

Cas remains focused at the wheel, fills in 15. That completes the third ticket. Cas moves on to the fourth one.

“Two,” Cas says. “Number of years we’ve been together. Officially.”

“Sixty-eight,” Dean says. “Amount of money that first crappy jacket you wanted so bad that wasn’t a trench coat cost.”

“Thirtieth. Of October. The day you finally said yes to cats.” Cas’s tone doesn’t change so Dean’s caught by surprise. Dean rolls his eyes, thinking about the fact that he literally has cat hair on his jacket at this very moment, and nudges Cas’s boot. These are supposed to be memories that are happy for both of them. But Cas’s delivery’s got Dean reluctantly smiling. He lets it go.

He thinks for a moment.

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Happy new year! Hope you all get some lovely new memories in 2015.

Dean looked around the bunker, marvelling at how packed it looked. It was a first for god knows how many years; not since the actual Men of Letters had this many people inhabited the building. All of it had been a surprise, to be quite honest. Charlie had arrived unannounced from Oz, hand in hand with her very obvious girlfriend, Dorothy. It had been planned that Jody might come along with Annie for a catch up, though it wasn’t for definite, but she’d turned up too. Krissy and her gang had decided to come around too, thus making the bunker look more like a creche than anything, but Dean was still happy to see them.

And most importantly of all, Cas was there. For the first time since Dean had met him, Cas was there for new years, and for hopefully all the years to come.

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First Tracks

Fandom: Love Live!
Pairing: RinMaki
Summary: Maki is a totally professional snowboarder who totally knows how to snowboard and totally isn’t just there for that one cute girl she saw once in a lobby.
Notes: Dedicated to the four most hardcore RinMaki shippers I know - nicomaki-trashblog, nicotachi, nishiklno, and rectumlord. They’re great. I love them. Also shoutout to Nathaniel for helping me with snowboard lingo. Is snowboard lingo real? Honestly, who knows.

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