i'm sorry if there is any typos

Cuddles are the best remedy

Words: 691

Genre: Fluff (that’s all I know how to write apparently)

Warnings: Dan swears a bit, but what’s new

Description: Dan wakes up feeling unwell, and it’s way too early for him to deal with this


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million bad habits to kick

Summary: Five times Even had to explain what Isak means to him, and one time he doesn’t have to. (It doesn’t make sense. One boy in a ridiculous red snapback isn’t a profound revelation. He shouldn’t even be a blip on Even’s radar.)

Pairing: Even/Isak

Words: 2,844

i. vilde

The first time Even sees him across the crowded cafeteria feels like the start of the worst kind of trouble. Sonja had just called – presumably to wish him luck on his first day at Nissen, but it had turned into another lecture. Remember not to drink that beer in your fridge all at once. Are you and Mikael smoking again? Please take your meds, I won’t be there to remind you every day.

[Ao3]

I accidentally answered a question privately just now that I didn’t mean to. OTL

Thankfully I still have the response saved, so I’ll just put it in normal text post form. The question was from tumblr user @bells, and it went like this:

Hello! How do you think things would have been different if Ouma was one of the survivors? In particular, how do you think his relationship with Saihara would have developed? Thank you for all your hard work in writing your meta, it’s been very helpful!

Thank you for asking this! I feel like as one of the characters who’s left an undeniably huge impression on the fanbase, Ouma does provide a lot of potential for one of the most potentially interesting survivors. A lot of people were probably counting on him making it all the way to the end too, although his death in Chapter 5 does make a lot of sense thematically, and from the standpoint of the previous Chapter 5s we’ve seen in dr1 and sdr2.

From this point on I’ll just be covering lots of spoilers for everything in Chapter 5 and onward, so anyone who doesn’t want to get spoiled for endgame points of the game, don’t read past this! (And again, I’m so sorry for accidentally responding on private instead.)

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MAGI 342 Full Spoiler Translation

UPDATE: I added the jump-Netabare info that was missing. I checked it while looking at the korean scans so i would be able order it as if the texts were the word balloons ( you can read it that way if you want to, while you look at the pics on the korean scans) . I pharaprased one or two things because of kanjis i didn’t know, but here it is ^^ i’ll try to check that later just to be sure :D


Disclaimer: i only to this for fun, to share it with you guys, and to practice my japanese :) which is very basic so keep in mind that i could be completely mistaken in some parts.  This is just a fan translation of incomplete spoilers so: Don’t forget to support the official releases of Magi!

Source: From Tieba Baidu’s Japanese scans and from Netabare’s texts ^^

@maumauxmau @sayakakat2012

PAGE 1

Inside The dungeon “Zepar”

Text in white:

Sinbad’s recollections. What is there… is it hope? or is it possibly despair?

Sinbad: Aladdin, it seems like I can talk with you.

Aladdin: Uncle, with what purpose are you doing this kind of thing? If you wanted to talk, we also could have done it on earth

TN: He’s referring to their world

Aladdin: Uncle wanted to have a trial of strenght with us, didn’t you?

Aladdin: Uncle’s purpose is proving that he’s worthy of being the only god of the world.

Sinbad: I see.

 NIGHT 342 “INNOVATOR” 

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fires, chapter two

Title: Fires
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Pairing: Rick x Michonne
Rating: T
Summary: “Because sometimes fires burn to make way for something new…something beautiful.“  The evolution of Rick and Michonne’s relationship throughout the course of season seven.


Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this took so long :/ I truly thought I would have this up just a few days after the last chapter, but my inspiration and motivation is so up and down because depression! and also I tend to always end up writing way more than I intended to.

That being said, this won’t be the final part of this story. I still have (at least) one more chunk to tell. I was actually going to add a couple more sections to this chapter, but it was getting way too long and I wanted to get something up for you guys asap. I’m going to try my best to have the last part up before 7x15 airs, and then I might do some sort of epilogue afterwards, depending on people’s interest and my inspiration/writing stamina.

As always, love and thanks to you all, xoxo.


CHAPTER TWO: INCANDESCENCE

Their lives falls into some strange pattern of domesticity as they prepare for war.

Everyone wakes up in the morning, eats breakfast and then kisses each of their loved ones goodbye, before heading off to complete whatever task assigned to them.  They work diligently into the hours of the early evening and then call it a day, heading home to spend the remainder of the night with their families and friends.

In their house, some combination of her, Rick, and Carl make dinner, and then they sit around the table with Judith and eat, discussing all they had accomplished today and their plans for tomorrow.  Sometimes they talk strategy, but they try not to.  They silently vow to keep their family time free of those kinds of topics. They can’t keep it as pure as her and Rick’s bedroom, but they work to keep it as pure as they can.

The minutes tick by. Judith coos and babbles and they all laugh at her, Carl tells her what’s happening in his latest comic book, Rick nudges her foot with his under the table, or reaches out and finds her hand once they move into the living room after they’ve cleared the table.  Carl makes a disgusted sound in the back of his throat at any sign of PDA, which Judith adorably attempts to imitate as they laugh again, and a deep blush never fails to color Rick’s cheeks even though he knows Carl’s repulsion is all in good fun.  She squeezes the fingers that are laced with hers.  He turns his head towards her, the corners of his mouth turning up into a mischievous grin, and she has to look away as a wave of heat begins to roll over her own skin.

The day dwindles to a close. They each take turns tucking Judith into bed, and then Carl retires to his room for the night.  Her and Rick settle into the kitchen and do the dishes before heading up the stairs

There are exceptions to the routine, of course.  There are the occasional overnight runs, and Negan comes to visit every couple of weeks, and they put on calm, resigned masks to hide the fact that they’re all scrambling around in the background, ensuring none of their battle plans are discovered or even suspected.

But more often than not, their days follow that same, strange pattern, and the monotony of it is comforting, in a way.  Familiar in the way it brings back the taste of a way of life long abandoned and forgotten. In fact, the days could classify as normal – normal in the old way – if their jobs didn’t constantly revolve around preparation for a war against a sadistic man wielding a barbed wire-covered bat and his legion of disciples.

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tyraniss  asked:

I love your scenarios so much!!! Do you think you could do one where the Horsemen help their s/o find their parents after the resurection, and their s/o is positively glowing with pride when they finally get to introduce them. Need some happy family scenarios up in here!!!!

I’m not leaving any more,
I’ve found its you I’m fighting for,
And even if this is the end,
I swear I’ll never leave your side again

Clean up was a nightmare. 

By the time humanity had crawled out of the rubble and realised what had happened, there was a global panic, which wasn’t all that much of a surprise. But human resilience and ingenuity shone through the mass hysteria and it wasn’t too long before the relief efforts began. 

We worked on rebuilding, resettling in temporary camps set up around the entire world, just until the world leaders sussed out who was where. 

Frankly, you’re relieved you didn’t have to sort through that paperwork. 

The priorities for most folks however, was of course to find their families and loved ones amongst the chaos. On that front too, you were grateful to have Horsemen with you. 

It made it a hell of a lot easier for your family to track you down once word spread about who the four horsemen of the apocalypse had tagging along at their side. 

Knowing that your family would most likely think to wait for you in your own home, you decide to ask the horseman to do you one last favour.

“I need to find my family. Take me home, please?” 

Death: “Hmph, given your track record, I highly doubt this will be the last favour I shall be granting you,” the horseman mutters, summoning Despair all the same and pulling you up into the saddle in front of him. You run your fingers through the horse’s wispy mane and grip the saddle horn as Death spurs him on through a throng of slack jawed people, all of whom are forced to hurl themselves out of your way. 

The distance between you and your family home seems to just disappear beneath Despair’s hooves as your trio thunders down the road that leads up to your house. Your excitement at this point is insurmountable and Death has barely pulled his steed to a halt before you’ve leapt down from the saddle and begin hurtling towards your front door.

It bursts open with the force of your entry and slams into the wall, no doubt chipping the paint in the process. But you find little room to care as you race up to your bedroom. ‘They have to be there,’ you reason with yourself as you fly towards the door, ‘they have to be...’

Grasping the handle, you take a steadying breath before pushing the door open and stare into the empty room. 

Empty….

You bite your lip in disappointment and hurt before sinking slowly onto your dusty old bed. You’d been so sure they’d be here, maybe they hadn’t been resurrected at all? Maybe something had happened on the way home? Maybe they thought you dead so hadn’t bothered to-

“Y/n?” 

Your head snaps up at the sudden disturbance, sure that you’re mistaking that familiar voice for Deaths. 

But there, standing in the doorway and looking no worse for wear, are your mother and father.

Your mouth moves to speak but you can only croak out, “Da-” before the both of them scramble towards you and practically leap into your arms. There’s barely a moment of shock before it’s replaced by joy and delight. You cry into their arms as they hug, kiss and tell you over and over how glad they are that you’re alright. You can only sob, deciding that you’ll wait until later to tell them that you’d essentially spent a century suspended in some unaging state where you had to endure their absence every single day. 

There’s a soft ‘ahem’ from the door of your bedroom, pulling you all from your shared embrace. Death is leaning against the doorframe with one leg crossed behind the other and arms folded across his chest as he takes in the heartwarming scene unfurling before him. Your parents are the first to react, both of them instinctively pushing you behind themselves and standing to glare up at the intruder fearfully. Death blinks languidly at you as you fight your way through your parents to stand in front of your horseman with arms raised placatingly. 

Hey, hey it’s okay!” you insist, “he’s my friend!” 

Your mother’s mouth falls open and your father’s eyes bulge. “Your……friend?” he asks incredulously. 

“And you must be Y/n’s mother and father-” the horseman bows his head slightly at the two shocked humans before him, “-charmed.” Death unfolds his arms and steps further into the room with you, placing a hand on your shoulder as you beam between him and your parents giddily. 

“Death,” you chirp, “I’d like to introduce you to my family.” Beckoning for the two to come forward so they can actually greet the horseman properly, you take your mother’s hand and gently lift it towards Death, who gets the message and delicately grasps her fingers between his own bony ones, giving her hand a firm shake by way of greeting. “Wow,” you tease him, “You’re a natural!” Death fixes you with a cold glare, regretting it almost immediately because it makes your mother tense and your father flinch. 

“Relax,” you say consolingly, “he’s not gonna hurt you, are you Death?” you elbow the horseman in his ribs and he grunts, shooting you a sigh of exasperation before saying, surprisingly softly, “No, Y/n is under my protection, and by extent, so are you two….I suppose,” he adds darkly, earning himself a disapproving glare from you. But it’s good enough, for Death, you reckon. 

“I-I’m sorry,” your mother suddenly chimes in, “But did you say your name was…..Death?” she squeaks. The horseman nods in confirmation. 

“Indeed. Death, the Grim Reaper, Rider of the Pale horse-” 

“Rider of the green horse, more like,” you interrupt. 

Stop it,” he mutters down at you.

“Your horse is green, Death.” 

Your parents watch the exchange in horror, uncertain how or why you could possibly see fit to rouse the ire of this omnipotent force of nature. The two of you notice that the conversation has drifted after a short while, so you cough and scratch the back of your neck as Death shakes his head at you. The room lapses into silence until your father speaks up. 

“So,” he begins, clapping his hands together and motioning between you and Death, “I’m dying to hear this one.” You groan and slap your hand against your head at the terribly obvious pun, terrible being the optimum word, but the horseman actually huffs out a laugh at it. Peering up at him you moan, “Don’t encourage him, it’ll only get worse.” 

“He can’t be any worse than you, Y/n,” Death teases. 

“Okay, wait. I don’t get it,” your mother chimes in, “Are you two friends or?….”

You go to answer her but you’re surprised when Death beats you to it. 

“Oh, without question,” he states, and for once, you can’t detect any sarcasm in his voice, “Y/n is, and always will be, one of the very few creatures in existence I would ever consider a friend.” 

“Really?” your parents both echo each other at the same time.” The horseman nods. “Really. In fact, I’d go even further than that. You see, I’ve recently adopted your child into my own little fold”- he pauses to ruffle your hair affectionately before continuing, -”Y/n is as much a part of my family as my own brother, War.” 

Your parents listen to him talk about you with gobsmacked expressions, rivalled only by your own incredulous face that’s split into an almost painfully wide grin. You glow under Death’s words, unsure if he’d meant for them to be quite so endearing. But, you decide it doesn’t really matter. 

What matters is that here is your best friend actually making an effort to get along with your parents. You beam up at Death brightly whilst he continues to sing your praises, eventually leading the subject to the unfortunate predicament he found you in during the apocalypse. Throughout his watered down version of events, you watch as your parents’ faces grow warmer and warmer, their eyes holding less fear and more enchantment and wonder. 

Your mother smiles welcomingly at the horseman when he finishes, “Well, I suppose there’s only one thing left to do,” she shrugs. You and Death glance at each other, then back at her. She rolls her eyes and your father pats the Reaper’s arm roughly, “Welcome to the family then, Death.” He winks down at your delighted expression and chuckles at the horseman’s shocked eyes. 

You however, couldn’t be happier. Your chest swells with pride and affection for Death as you realise he’d just, however unwittingly, secured himself a spot in your home for however long he should need it. 

War: Your brutish friend regards you for a few seconds before he snorts, shrugging his immense shoulder and turns his head away from you. There’s a pause where you can hear the other resurrected humans murmuring quietly in War’s direction. The sooner you escaped from their curious gazes the better… Your attention is drawn from them by War’s sudden, hushed growl, “I believe I owe you more than one favour, Y/n.” 

Eyes wide and smile bright, you take War’s proffered hand and he lifts you effortlessly into Ruin’s saddle before settling behind you. With a guttural bellow, the beast rears up, eliciting gasps and cries of shock from the onlookers, then he launches into a flat out gallop for your home. 

As you race along the landscape, things begin to look more and more familiar, and as they do, you grow more and more excited. Although your enthusiasm is also met with a little trepidation at the prospect of introducing your family to War. You’ve no doubt when you tell them all he’s done for you, they’ll come to love him as you do. But still…. 

Pushing those negative thoughts from your head, you swing your arm up to point at a recognisable residence that makes you tear up with nostalgia. It has, after all, been over a century since you’ve seen home. “There!” you call over the wind rushing past your ears and War tugs Ruin’s rein to veer off and slide to a stop right next to your front door. 

The horseman eases you out of the saddle and onto the solid ground before banishing Ruin and stomping along behind you up to the door. He watches you hesitate before at last pushing the creaking door open and wincing at the dust that falls from the ceiling overhead at the sudden intrusion. The place is uncomfortably quiet, at least until you near the kitchen, where you start to hear the beginnings of a conversation. Emotions threaten to overwhelm you when you make out the all too familiar voices. 

“What if Y/n didn’t come back to life like the rest of us did?” That sounded a lot like your father.

“Y/n is coming home. You really think that everybody else would come back but Y/n wouldn’t?” the reassuring voice of your mother responds. Your hands fly up to cover your mouth but its not fast enough to catch the sob that escapes your throat. The comforting presence of War at your back is a blessing then, as you’re sure you might have collapsed with sheer relief.

The noise roused the occupants in the kitchen and there was a brief scrabbling of shoes before two people whizzed around the corner and skidded to a halt. At the sudden movement, War tenses behind you and you can feel the protective aura radiating off him so you quickly shoot your hand out behind you to signal that everything was alright. “Easy War,” you say calmly. 

Meanwhile, your eyes remain fixed on the two figures before you, “Mum?” you whisper, “Dad?” 

“Y/n?” they both whisper, not taking their eyes of the enormous creature looming behind you. 

“Oh for-War! Stop it,” you hiss, “you’re scaring them!” The horseman begrudgingly backs up a little, shrinking from his full height and losing his snarl. But it doesn’t really make much of a difference. ‘Oh well’ you mentally shrug. 

Still, despite their obvious fear, your father pipes up next to your mother. “Y/n,” he chokes, “You’re alive-” he and your mother start forwards, you close the gap and practically collapse into their embrace “-You’re alive!” 

War keeps his silent vigil over your tiny family as you fall to your knees and cry together. Tears of relief stream down all of your faces, a family again. 

Family….’

You pull away and wipe your eyes frantically, casting an apologetic look backwards at the horseman before you stand and help your mother to her feet. “War,” you whisper, “Come here, please?” The horseman huffs, but decides to go along with whatever it is you’re planning. He approaches you and you beam at him gratefully, taking the forefinger of his gauntlet and leading him properly to your parents. “Remember,” you whisper, “Like I showed you.” War scowls, either in concentration, or irritation you aren’t sure. But all the same, he slowly, carefully extends his hand towards your mother first, palm up, waiting for her to make the next move. She glances at you breathlessly, so you nod at her reassuringly. After an obvious internal struggle, she shakily places her hand on War’s, flinching as he ever so gently curls his fist around it and shakes it once, twice, up and down in greeting. 

War shoots you a questioning look and you give him a thumbs up, mouthing ‘perfect’ at him. Your father is next, who shakes nearly as much as your mother did, but he puts on a brave face and looks War in the eye as he shakes his hand. You try not to let your pride show too much as you witness this miracle in the works. War actually being gentle with someone other than yourself, your parents actually acknowledging what you said and trusting you enough to trust War

Miracle. 

Strife: “What if they don’t like me?” 

You roll your eyes as the horseman strolling along behind you voices his question for the 4th time in the last 10 minutes. 

“I mean, I know. As crazy as that may sound to you,” he continues, letting his signature cockiness shine forth expertly, “I can tend to be a little….intimidating.” You turn around to raise an amused eyebrow at him and catch him flexing one of his arms and flashing you a sharp-toothed grin. 

“Strife,” you begin, “would you stop worrying, they’ll adore you! How could they not?” The horseman seems to ponder this new information before nodding in agreement.

“True, true,” he pouts and you smirk at him over your shoulder before turning to reach for the door. The front door. Your door. The rather unnecessary door considering the gaping hole in the wall right beside it. Still, you push on the wood and wince as it suddenly falls from its hinges and falls with an almighty crash onto the floor. 

“That’s one way to announce our arrival,” Strife chuckles behind you. Coughing slightly, you peer into the gloom of your home whilst taking careful steps inside. The walls are lined with cracks and dust, decades worth of it. There’s a muffled commotion from somewhere in the house that alerts the hyper aware horseman beside you. He places a hand on your stomach and pushes you behind him as he unholsters Redemption and aims it into the darkness. 

“Strife, wait!” you hiss, “It could be-”

“Y/n?” 

You slump into the horseman’s back, relieved as two familiar faces appear out from the shadows. Strife’s eyes widen when you call out to your parents and rush around him into their embrace. He hurriedly drops Redemption back into its holster and clasps his hands behind him with an awkward grin. But your parents are far too busy smothering you with affection to neither notice, nor care about the other presence in the room. 

“Mum!” you laugh between kisses on the cheek, “Mum stop! I need to introduce you to someone!” At last, she and your father pull away, 

“Y/n,” your dad gasps happily, “Y/n we thought we’d lost you.” With a bright grin, you turn to beckon Strife forward and grab his arm excitedly. 

“Mum dad, I’d like you both to meet Strife. He saved my life-” you gaze up at the tall horseman adoringly, “-He’s my best friend.” Your parents exchange a look between themselves before turning to stare at Strife once again. There’s a beat where you’re certain they could either start laughing or cry hysterically. But it’s your mother who surprises you first when she steps forward, stares up at the enormous man before her, then, without warning, she throws her arms around him. Strife stiffens visibly, unused to having anyone other than yourself hug him like this. He looks to you briefly for help, but you merely fold your arms across your chest and quirk an eyebrow at him, saying smugly, “And you were worried they wouldn’t like you.” 

“Uh, heh,” the uncomfortable horseman laughs as your mother thanks him repeatedly, 

“Thanks for bringing Y/n home,” your father smiles at Strife, offering his hand to shake. After a moment’s hesitation, the horseman with your mother still clinging to his waist, raises his hand and places it in your father’s. You bite your lip, trying to get your monumental smile under control but you’re just so damn happy. Finally, your mother steps away from Strife, wiping her eyes. 

“Sorry,” she laughs tearfully, “Sorry, I’m just so grateful to you.” She dusts herself off, regaining her composure and falling back next to her husband. “Well, any friend of Y/n’s is more than welcome here anytime,” your father declares, causing Strife to shoot you a smug grin of his own. 

“Hear that Y/n? Better get used to this face, cause you’re gonna be seeing a lot of it from now on.” 

You sigh and accept the arm that your mother is trying to curl around you. “Sure, it’s not like I haven’t been seeing it every day for the last century or anything,” you quip sarcastically. 

“Century!?” your mother and father cry in unison. Strife laughs loudly and slings an arm across both of their shoulders, walking them through into the sitting room where they all but collapse onto the sofa.

“Boy do we have a story to tell you guys,” he announces, “Which is great, I love talking about me.” With that, he launches into tales of heroism, adventure, danger, all of which make your parents pale and you reminisce. Despite his ego,  you can’t help but feel a flutter of affection for the horseman as you watch him regale your parents. 

‘This feels…..right,’ you decide quietly to yourself, snuggling further into Strife’s side and trying to ignore your father’s suspicious squint as the horseman pulls you closer. 

Fury: “Are you certain it’s the right time for me to be meeting your parents?” The horseman asks as you both traipse up the long, half rebuilt road that leads past your home. You smile up at Fury comfortingly, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly. 

“Jeez, you make it sound like I’m bringing my girlfriend home for the first time, Fury,” you laugh, noticing the slender eyebrow that rises then falls as her eyelids droop alluringly. 

“You mean that’s not what’s happening right now?” she teases and your face grows hot as you try not to stumble over your own feet. Fury’s wide smile looks a little too smug to be characteristic but you allow her to get away with it, at least just this once. 

Letting out a belligerent ‘humph’, you stick your tongue out at her briefly, an action that makes her recoil with exaggerated disgust. Smirking, you suddenly turn your face forward and notice that you’ve both arrived at your old home. 

Wind rushes down the road as you stare at the door, hand hovering in mid air without even realising that you’d been going to knock. Fury’s smile slowly fades when she notices you aren’t moving anymore and instead, remain deathly still and quiet. 

“Y/n?” she murmurs curiously, “What’s the matter?” 

You shake your head and blink rapidly as you realise you’re being spoken to. Tossing the horseman a quick smile over your shoulder, you finally grip the handle and push the door open slowly. “Hello!?” you call out, listening intently to the silence that followed. After a minute without a response, “Mum!?” you shout, “Dad?!” ……

Silence.

But then………”Y/n?!” Somebody cried from behind you. Both you and Fury spin around to look over the road opposite your home. 

“Well, that was convenient,” Fury appraises even as you break away from her to sprint at your parents who, against all odds, arrived at nearly the exact same time as you had to your family home. The horseman hangs back, leaning up against the wall of the house, content merely to watch the sweet scene from a respectable distance. You need this. 

Before too long, whatever you’d been discussing with your parents seems to accumulate on the horseman you’d arrived with. You turn and Fury can clearly see that you’re talking about her, gesturing all the while between yourself and her. She doesn’t miss the proud smile you wear when you fix your gaze on her once again and start to lead your mother and father across the road to where she stands. Respectfully, Fury pushes off from the wall and bows her head low to your parents. Greeting them with a smile despite their obvious trepidation.  You trot over to stand at Fury’s side and she blinks when you slip your hand effortlessly into her own.

“Fury, this is my mum and dad,” you introduce them by name and she shakes their hands respectively. “Guys, meet Fury: Horseman. Friend. Near enough soulmate, at this point.” 

“It’s a pleasure,” she beams. 

“Yeah, uh…Likewise,” your father stammers, “We um…saw you on the news.” He looks to your mother as she pipes up. 

“Oh yes, although we couldn’t quite believe it when we saw you standing next to Y/n,” she concurs with a nervous smile. You have one of your own when Fury releases your hand only to rest her arm around your shoulders. The eerily human gesture both unnerves your parents and puts them at ease a little. They both step closer sporting tired, relieved, if a little wary smiles. Slinking from Fury’s arm, you back up a couple of steps to make room for them, eager to see how they handle this.

“Well,” your mother begins, hesitantly clasping her hands around Fury’s and squeezing them gratefully, “Thank you, for keeping Y/n safe,” she breathes. 

“Believe me, it was my pleasure,” the horseman winks at you and smiles warmly down at your mother. You beam, something in your chest glowing and burning at the sight of your three family members accepting one another. You’re almost moved to fresh tears as the reality hits you. 

You’re home, with her. With them. No matter what, you know Fury will always be welcome with you. 

Confident

Summary: You and Yugyeom do a photoshoot with a sexy concept, and it leads to a little more after.

Genre: Smut

Length: 2226

Requested Here

You walked in front of the bright lights, feeling extremely exposed. When your company had told you that you would be doing a photoshoot with Yugyeom, you had been thrilled. You and Yugyeom had known each other for a while, and you had a little crush on him, but you two had never spent that much time together just the two of you. However, when you agreed to doing the photoshoot, you had no idea it was going to be a sexy concept or one that was so revealing at that.

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Reckless
Jyn Erso x Reader
Word Count: 1,110

Description: Jyn is a frequent visitor to the medbay, and with those visits come a friendship along with a little something more.

You remember the first time you met Jyn, the way she had walked so calmly into the medbay as if there wasn’t a bloody gash obscuring her left forearm. She was calm, a little lightheaded though it was to be expected with an injury as serious as her own.

She felt differently.

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Seventeen Times 17

Pairing: Taehyung | Reader
Genre: ANGST / Fluff / Smut [+18]
Word Count: 26k (Yep, sorry not sorry ;)

A/N: Oh, hi! First of all, this is my first time writing anything here in Tumblr, so I really hope you like it. Also, sorry for any typos but english is not my mother tongue :)

Playlist: Sex - The1975 / Somebody Else - The1975 / The City - The1975 / Robbers - The 1975 / Lover, Where Do You Live? - Highasakite / O - Coldplay / Trouble - Coldplay / Always in My Head - Coldplay / God Don’t Leave Me - Highasakite / Strong - London Grammar

Summary: You loved him Seventeen Times 17.


You remember everything. You remember the day you met him. You remember that 17th of October as if it was yesterday.

It was a very beautiful autumn day, indeed. The trees were full of orange and yellow leaves, the ground below them covered in the lifeless, brown leaves that had fallen from their branches. The sun was shining in the blue sky and there was a cold breeze that made your nose hide behind your grey scarf.

Your black headphones had always been your best friends. Well, them and Tiara, but let’s just say that they didn’t give you any headaches, neither did they brought you any problems.

“Earth calling to Y/N…” you heard the familiar voice of your best friend “Are you even awake?”

You sighed loudly and took your headphones off.

“I wish I wasn’t”

Tiara rolled her eyes but ignored your harsh tone. If you hated something, it was definitely being interrupted while listening to music.

“Anyway, what I was trying to say was that we are going to the skate park this evening. Do you wanna come?” she said.

“Why are you guys going to the skate park? Have you lost something there, Tia? Like your dignity, for example” you laughed, satisfied with your little revenge for being interrupted before.

That 17th of October, you weren’t in a very good mood.

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Supports (Kiran/Alfonse)

So I wrote a couple of the Support conversations I imagined would occur between Kiran and Alfonse (because @g-r-i-m-a suggested it and I like pain). For reference, my Kiran was a loner before he met the Askr royals, and has anxiety and a bit of social issues as well. He wears the hood pulled down to get distance from the others. Also I’m sorry for any typos, I don’t have time to proof it right now. 


B Support

Kiran: Alfonse! No! 

Alfonse: (huff, huff) I’m fine, Kiran. Worry about the others first. 

Kiran: I… thought you were a goner. 

Alfonse: It’s ok, you can always just bring me back. 

Kiran: It’s not okay, Alfonse. I should have seen he had advantage on you. It was stupid. 

Alfonse: You pay attention to everything, don’t you? You think every death is your fault. 

Kiran: *muttering* It is. 

Alfonse: It’s not your fault. You can’t predict everything. And you can always bring us back. It just hurts. 

Kiran: I don’t want to cause you any pain. 

Alfonse: Why do you care so much? Don’t you have another life to go back to? 

Kiran: … I do… but I’ll miss all of you a lot, when I go back. I should see to the others now. *leaves*

Alfonse: When you go back…


A Support

Alfonse: Kiran, get out of the way! 

Kiran: *Tch* Ah, you got him… 

Alfonse: He was coming right for you. What were you thinking, standing up like that on the top of the hill? 

Kiran: I couldn’t see where you went. I panicked. 

Alfonse: We talked about this. It’s alright if I die. You’ll bring me back. And I won’t hold you responsible for it. 

Kiran: *tucks face into cloak* Yeah… 

Alfonse: Are you hurt? He got you. Come here… *rustling with some bandages* 

Kiran: I heard about Zachariah. Ouch, you’re pressing too hard. 

Alfonse: … I don’t want to hear his name. 

Kiran: Ah, ow… 

Alfonse: *sigh* I’m sorry. I still miss him. He was… good to me. And now he’s gone. 

Kiran: I’m sorry, too. But I’m not him. 

Alfonse: You’re the only one we can’t bring back, do you realize? *more rustling of bandages* There, that should do it. Please stay back, for your own protection, next time. 

Kiran: … I won’t let you die while I live. 

Alfonse: You just don’t get it, do you? It’s not about what you want. I want to keep you safe, to protect you… Kiran… This is serious. 

Kiran: I know. I know that. Alfonse… 

Alfonse: *lifts Kiran’s hood and peeks in* What? 

Kiran: I… you are good to me too. 

Alfonse: *blushes* I have to go.


S Support

Alfonse: Oh, Kiran. I didn’t think you’d be out here. 

Kiran: Askr is beautiful from this balcony. You and Shareena are taking good care of it.

Alfonse: Thanks. Aren’t you cold? 

Kiran: *smiles* No, I’m fine now. 

Alfonse: That cloak… you like wearing it, even when you don’t have to. 

Kiran: Yeah, the cloak… Alfonse, what will happen when we defeat Embla, and release all the Heroes? 

Alfonse: Well, then we’ll find a way to send you home, too. You know, Kiran, you haven’t told any of us much about your world. I don’t even know if you have loved ones, back there.

Kiran: I do… I have a sister, and parents. Kind of like you. 

Alfonse: … Anyone else? 

Kiran: You know that I’m a very private person. I don’t… well, I have a hard time with other people. With making friends. 

Alfonse: I think you’re great, though. Actually, you got me on your side… And I was kind of cold toward you at first. 

Kiran: Yeah, you were. But I understand. … Zachariah was more than just a friend to you, wasn’t he?

Alfonse: ….. Yes, he was. But he’s gone, and I don’t think he’s ever coming back.  

Kiran: I’m sorry. I know how that hurts. 

Alfonse: I’m not sorry any longer, though. And that’s because of you.

Kiran: Me?

Alfonse: Yes. I look for you after every battle, every time we return to the palace. 

Kiran: *withdraws deeper into his hood* Does that mean we’re friends? 

Alfonse: I think so… but I’d like to be more than friends. 

Kiran: ……

Alfonse: *lifts up the hood to peer into Kiran’s eyes* Don’t go home, Kiran. Please, don’t go home yet. 

Kiran: A-Alfonse, don’t ask me that. You don’t know what you’re asking of me. 

Alfonse: I do know. Kiran, look at me. I know. I see you, even when you hide within that cloak. 

Kiran: What do you see? 

Alfonse: Someone I care for very much. *leans in, presses a soft kiss to Kiran’s mouth* 

Kiran: …..  

Alfonse: Kiran? Say something! 

Kiran: *pulls hood off, blushing* Thank you, Alfonse. I wasn’t sure you felt the same way I do. 

Alfonse: And what way is that? 

Kiran: I love you. 

Alfonse: Really? Ah! I’m so glad. 

Kiran: I can’t say what tomorrow will bring, or what we will face next… but I know I want to face it by your side. 

Alfonse: Good. Kiran… I’m glad you kept on talking to me. 

Kiran: *smiles* Me too. 

8

the 100 au: minty’s always been a thing (even back in season 1)

momentarilyhere  asked:

Callie/Theron - Wonder

She sees him: limbs splayed, head cocked grotesquely to one side. His Force energy flickers, faint, and now she’s running, leaping over broken bodies, the remnants of a Skytrooper, a discarded blaster. Lana’s behind her, calling her name—Callie, wait, it’s not safe! But her vision tunnels, a kaleidoscope of Theron and Theron and Theron

Her footsteps echo, and his eyes open, lashes fluttering. After a moment, he focuses, finds her. Smiles. It’s a weak, trembling thing. “You came.”

Of course I came, she wants to say, but doesn’t. She shakes her head, dropping to her knees, hands flitting everywhere, checking for– life, solidity. Confirmation, at the very least. They come back red, slick, streaked with horror. “No,” she breathes. “No, no, no…”

“Callie.”

No,” she says, again, and her eyes fill with hot, shameful tears. She blinks, hard. Tries to remember the Code—there is no emotion, which is a lie; there is peace, which is even more of a lie. “Save your strength.”

The Force comes to her, then, as if on tiptoe. She grabs hold of it with both hands, tendrils wrapping around her wrists, and pulls—the distant sound of something cracking, and then, warmth, gushing through her. And out of the corner of her eye, she sees it: Her hands, glowing, blurred.

Theron sees it, too, and his eyes go wide, and it’s almost like they’re on Rishi again. Wobbly legs, earnest hearts. Soft, gentle touches. Only this time she can’t afford to lose him, possibly because she’s lost everything else. Still, there’s something in his gaze. She would almost call it devotion—the way his face contorts in the light of her healing energy, body arcing off the ground, as if to touch it. Reverence, maybe, or wonder.

“I thought knights couldn’t heal,” he says, and there—a flicker of a smile, her favorite smile, the smile he saves for her.

She laughs. A quiet, wracked sound. “Not funny.”

“Maybe not.” A wheeze. “But I made you laugh.”

“You must’ve hit your head.” Her eyes flick from wound to wound. She’ll never be able to fix him, she knows, but she doesn’t necessarily have to; she just has to keep him alive until someone gets here who can. “Where does it hurt, Theron?”

Silence. She can feel him fading—softly, like a sunset, receding gently in the distance.

Finally, “Everywhere.”

She doesn’t think. She presses her palms to the first wound she sees. Opens herself to the Force—that warm, thrumming liquid—and seethes.

I’d just like to say please don’t use or reprint any art by kobeni_hisako (Twitter) / mcbit2 (Tumblr). You can reblog their art on Tumblr, or like it on Twitter if you are following their account (since it is private right now, you cannot retweet). That is how you can show your appreciation of their art. They have made their policy extremely clear, but I still see people using their art as icons, headers, blog images, etc, with no permission and/or no credit. I believe this unauthorised usage of their art is why they made their Twitter account private, as many other artists have, although I could be wrong. Regardless, please respect their wishes.

I blurred out the name here because from what I can see they did take down the posts and icon, but please know that this is not an appropriate response if an artist ever tells you to take down their artwork. It’s not claiming that they’re your art that is the issue. Artists don’t want their work used or reprinted for various reasons. Please respect their wishes and be polite. ‘Liking it enough to share it’ is not a valid excuse and the artist will most likely not appreciate that as much as some people seem to think. (They’ll probably appreciate that you like their art, but not the way you went about showing that liking. There are other ways as said above that will not have a negative impact at all.) I’m saying this because I have seen the impact unauthorised usage/reprinting of art has had on some artists and it is really saddening. (Some have privatised all of their accounts, written “DO NOT REPOST” in bright red English letters everywhere they can on their visible profile, etc. You get the picture.)

In general, if you’re unsure of an artists’ stance on using their art as your icons, headers, reposting, etc, then either ask them directly or don’t do it. If you can’t find the original artist, don’t do it.

Thanks for reading. Please share if you can.

Drunk in Love

Characters: Hanji Zoe x Levi
Genre: Humor/Romance/Crack
Rating: T

I got an ask requesting a fic based on the prompt: “Hey shitty glasses, do you know how much I love your smile?”

And naturally, I decided to write a crack-y one shot in which Levi is completely and utterly drunk.



“Hey shitty glasses, do you know how much I love your smile?”

The declaration, sudden as it is unexpected, is accompanied by a wheezing hiccup.

Hanji, whose efforts had been entirely focused on attempting to see through the impenetrable façade that is Erwin Smith’s poker face, looks up from her cards. And nearly drops the hand.

Levi, flushed and listing, stumbles toward the table.

“Levi?” Hanji stares, trying and failing to process the frankly bizarre and unusual sight. “What happened to you?”

The table scrapes, shuddering, as he braces himself on the wood. Levi clears his throat. His eyes are glassy. “The drank. I mean. Drunk. I am. I think?”

Hanji opens her mouth. Closes it. And opens it again. “How?

In all the years she’d known him, no matter the number of drinks the small man poured down his throat, he never seemed to get more than slightly tipsy.

And it’s impossible, she thinks. But the evidence stands, swaying before her. Levi is, to put it plainly, drunk off his ass.

Mike, the third player in their four person game (Nanaba is the fourth), is folded over the table, shaking in silent laughter.

Nanaba stares over her cards, narrow-eyed and suspicious. “What did you do?”

Mike lifts his head. Face pinched in laughter, he looks positively gleeful.

Erwin, unable to completely shed the cloak of authority, even at their bi-monthly officer’s game night, sighs and sets down his cards. “Mike.

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Okay but Sam and Nat getting used to touching each other
Not sexually per se, not at the beginning at least
–not that they don’t have to get used to that too, but not this early
Talk to me about them being very apprehensive after SHIELD tries to arrest Nat and Steve
–there’s a connection there, we all know it; they were definitely into each other the first time they met
–so talk to me about them talking while Steve is in the shower and maybe bringing that up and maybe smiling these strained sorts of smiles, because you can’t smile about it right now but you can’t not acknowledge it either
–maybe Sam hands her a towel, says she can use what he’s got in the shower, and their hands brush in the tradeoff
–maybe Nat folds it up later after talking to Steve about trust and doesn’t let her fingers linger; SHIELD and Budapest is too current in her mind for anything
—-what do you want me to be? She’s so changeable and one of the major anchors in her life is crumbling
–maybe they break into the fort holding Sam’s wings and she claps him and Steve on the back
—-maybe Steve’s aware of a bit of tension but doesn’t want to comment
After it’s all over maybe she and Sam and Steve get dinner one night when Steve can leave the hospital
–before that though! Talk to me about Sam and Nat running into each other in the hospital
–Steve doesn’t come to for a few days and they’re worried but they start doing crossword puzzles together
—-for a sense of normalcy
—-Nat’s really good at the obscure words ones, Sam’s better with pop culture references
—-there comes a point though when Sam pulls out a word from his foreign language study and they start talking about languages for awhile, and Nat touches his hand briefly
–and there comes a point where they’re getting each other Starbucks and trying to find the most kitschy things in the hospital gift shop and soon Steve’s bedside table is full of stuffed animals and chocolates, and then chocolate wrappers because sorry you’ve been out for a long time man
And then it’s dinner after Fury’s left and before Nat’s leaving for Europe and they’re having takeout in Sam’s living room
–(they’d’ve gone to Steve’s but. Too many memories, and he’s moving out)
–and by this point they’ve gotten super close, so we’ve graduated to casual shoulder bumping and other relevant gestures of affection and inside jokes
—-they went to the zoo once and kept saying “that’s you” when they saw all the different kinds of birds
–so that’s what the evening is, drinking wine and going slow because Sam’s the only one who can get drunk and they don’t want him feeling self conscious in the morning
–basically it’s a good happy time
–Steve heads in early, right in the middle of Star Wars, and Sam’s talking something about Jar Jar Binks being a Sith Lord and Nat just kinda falls asleep on him
–and he looks at her and she’s so peaceful and for once he thinks there might not be a mask on her face
—-you know that good cheesy kind of thing
And it’s just kinda nice. And from there it’s platonic cuddling when Sam and Steve visit her in France while they’re looking for Bucky, and then it’s lingering fingers when Nat returns the favor and gives Sam a towel
–and they’re neither of them used to this kind of thing
–Nat might be more so than Sam, because she has Clint platonically and Steve platonically but it’s different somehow with Sam
–they kinda accidentally end up hugging for too long when Sam and Steve have to leave
—-they’ll say it’s because Steve kept talking to them and distracting them, but that’s not the whole truth
–they still don’t kiss yet, because they’re very aware that the mortality rate for their profession is kinda high
—-not in the MCU unless you’re Pietro or Coulson apparently BUT not bitter
–and that’s where things are when we hit CA:CW
–there’s some texting and flirting there, but CA:CW kinda stops things for now
But I’m positive Nat had her own plan to break them out of that prison
–she flew Steve in and out and she ended up hugging Sam the longest event after Steve let go of them both

8
Happy Birthday Eiichiro Oda! 1.1

anonymous asked:

But what was Bear's best episode??? Also, I am SO with you on Prisoner's Dilemma for Reese. Everyone always overlooks that one, but imo the scene where Reese tells Carter about 9/11 and giving up a "normal" life to go back to the service is Reese's single most enthralling scene in the whole show, and the best single-scene performance from JC. TPH reacting and ME watching, and the soundtrack, also make it. Just superb.

Bear is the hero of every episode he’s in. He completely overshadows everyone else. Actual MVP.

I’ll throw in special mentions for his scuba diving adventure in Point Of Origin, the memorable scene where he fetched guns in Deus Ex Machina, that time he came face to face with Greer in an epic showdown worthy of him in Allegiance, and that time he was depressed because he just wanted a hot date in One Percent. And of course we can’t forget his first episode because have we ever had a more impactful and iconic introduction to any character ever? The answer is no.

And yesss I adore Prisoner’s Dilemma! The flashbacks were a bit redundant, but as a character episode for John it’s definitely up there.

I loved his scene from Return 0 because it’s such a heroic sacrifice and I adore that he died for Harold and saved the world. It was so beautiful and well shot but I have to say that that one line about “at first saving one life at a time seemed a bit anticlimactic” is so… NOT JOHN WHATSOEVER.

John adored running around saving one person at a time and seeing them safely all the way through and smiling softly at them as they were reunited with their families. It was what he actually wanted and he got to do it in a way that being in the CIA never allowed him to. The definite knowledge and tangible proof that he was using his skills to help people was so important to him and he legitimately THRIVED working on the irrelevant list with Harold.

Family of Rogues Scene Analysis #1

Okay there is SO MUCH to say about this episode so I’m splitting it into a few posts (scene analyses and one to two broader posts about relationships and themes). 

Here’s the post for the “office-rescue” scene.

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