it was hard to get them to look all the same


I made a Twitter thread a while ago about applying for jobs and I also got an ask about some of the specifics about how I wound up here, so in spite of the fact that this video makes me C R I N G E, I’m gonna share it and we’re gonna do some STORY TIME. Mostly this is me sharing the specifics of my own, personal story but maybe there’s some broadly useful stuff in here, idk.

Also, a fair warning that my ~*story time*~ got away from me, so I’m putting it under a cut. The tl;dr version that’s more broadly useful is:

  1. job applications are learning opportunities and you should make sure you’re learning things as you go about it
  2. your application should be a tailored narrative of your career trajectory
  3. don’t sell yourself short or forget that you hold cards in the process as well
  4. the goal is a good fit for everybody, and that includes you; not every job is going to be that good fit for you

but then, I’m not a hiring manager so, really, wtf do I know

(seriously, take everything I say for the anecdotal nonsense that it is)

I found the listing for my job here on Tumblr. At the time I was freelancing and mostly pretty happy with it, but since I wrote my MA thesis on Nerdfighteria and had always kind of wanted to get into video, this looked like a really cool opportunity to work on great stuff & learn a lot.

The application asked for a reel, which I did not have, since I was mostly doing Virtual Assistant work at that time.

A huge part of why I applied was because I thought the application process itself would be a great learning opportunity.

I really didn’t expect to get the job. I can’t stress this part enough. Like, really didn’t even think I’d get an interview.

The whole thing, to me, was just a good exercise. It had been a while since I had applied for anything (I was freelancing on referrals from the get-go) and mostly I was eager to see what, exactly, I could put together in lieu of a reel.

I spent a week working my way through some Lynda lessons on After Effects (this wasn’t my first time using it, but I had only used it for suuuuper basic stuff). Much of what is happening in this video is stuff I figured out how to do while I was making it. That was, again, the point.

I bought a shit ton of green fabric. I rounded up all the lamps I could find. I had a vague knowledge of the fact that shadows = bad for keying, but really knew fuck all about lights. (tbh, lighting is still kind of a mysterious magic trick to me.) I spent probably an hour moving the lamps around, standing in front of them, recording it, and then looking at it until I could find what looked the least shadow-y.

I also watched a SciShow video on the slowest speed setting so that I could try to reverse engineer the basics of what was happening. I was literally just looking at it to see, “ok, but can I do that?” (Answer: not really, but A for effort.)

I wrote a very silly script that was a very carefully selected understanding of how I had been spending my time. This part is super important and broadly applicable whenever you are applying for a job: a huge part of applying for a job is creating a narrative. 

(Important note: this does not mean lying.)

Obviously your life has (probably) not actually been a series of carefully chosen moments leading you to this ONE. JOB. But it’s important to find ways to talk about the things you’ve done that highlight how/why they are relevant. In my experience, humans have a pretty natural tendency to do this narrative reframing of their past as having led them clearly to their future. Use that. What is the version of your trajectory that most sounds like you’ve been gearing up for this job all along, acquiring skills both obvious and unexpected that would be useful here.

That’s the guiding principle of everything I’m saying in this video.

It’s also worth noting, though, that I laid my cards on the table. That is, I wasn’t trying to lie about anything and I was up front about where I was at. It wouldn’t have served anybody to try to be misleading about that fact.

So that was the application process, for me. It’s a tricky balance of being honest but also a carefully selected kind of honest. And keeping in mind that this is as much about deciding whether a company is actually good fit for you as whether you’re a good fit for them. I remember during my college admissions process, one school that I thought I really wanted to go to had a weird religious essay on the form that caught me off guard and made me reevaluate whether that was a good fit. Likewise, I honestly wasn’t sure if I wanted to do the 9-5 thing. Freelancing had lots of great perks that offset some of the overwhelming stress.

Something else that I did, that I recommend with a very cautious asterisk, was googling the people interviewing me. Again, partially this was, “OK, I know these shows they make, and I know vlogbrothers videos, but who are all of the other people who I would spend my days with.”

I had no idea who Nick was before I started, because I never paid much attention to the credits. But he was the one who called me to arrange the interview, so I googled him and found a great interview he did about why Crash Course matters, and there were a few specific things he said that stood out to me as, “yes, this is also why I think this matters and why I want this job.”

The asterisk here is: don’t be creepy. It’s a hard line to walk, but, ya know, don’t talk about your interviewer’s swarm check-ins or whatever.

In my case, I knew that in addition to concentrating on that narrative of how and why I should end up here, I had these other points to hit on in the interview. Again, don’t lie. This isn’t about saying shit solely because you think someone wants to hear it; this was about leveraging a piece of common ground I knew we had.

Lastly, I’d add that it’s good to be careful about how you walk the line between being excited about a company’s work and being a little overzealous. It is, at the end of the day, still a job, and you don’t want to come across as so enthusiastic that maybe you’re missing that point. That’s a really nuanced thing for which I have no easy answers.

A lot of this stuff is just luck. I gave a lot of advice where I could, but, at the same time, there’s also this weird combination of personalities that make a thing work or not. There’s a thing in hiring called the “airport test” which is: “could I be stuck in an airport with this person?” and that is a whole other weird, wholly qualitative element of hiring that ends up making a huge difference.

There’s the official bits and pieces that make up a job application, but then there’s the trickier interpersonal stuff about how that job fits into a team. Something not explicitly stated in my application, but which I’ve since learned mattered is that what I lacked in technical know-how, I made up for in cultural knowledge about YouTube. My manager is a former film school teacher who learned the YouTube stuff on the job; he knew he could teach me anything technical I didn’t know much more easily than he could teach someone the culture in which we create.

IDK. I could legitimately talk about this forever.

Nothing More [ IV ] [ Final ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst

Length: 3k

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Summary: Watching the man you love love someone else was the most painful feeling in the world.

Part One: x Part Two: x  Part Three: x

Originally posted by angel-in-slow-motion

It was terrifying how much could change in a year. To think that just a few short weeks could change everything about you was daunting, but true. When you had left life felt like torture, like everywhere you looked there was something waiting to mock you. You were broken, your heart all but ashes when you boarded the first flight away, but you knew it was what you needed to do. You needed time away from it all to figure out what you wanted, to figure out who you were without all of the things you’d grown so used to. It was hard, leaving it all behind, like you just gave away a piece of yourself with no plans of ever getting it back.

Loving Byun Baekhyun was hard, but letting that love go, was harder.

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Up to no good  ♡ Ethan

Summary: Ethan and you have been best friends since forever, so of course you invite him to your birthday party on the beach. As everyone is having a good time, Ethan decides to take you out for a walk and go skinny dipping.

Word count: 2.455

A/N: This one is for the beautiful, kind, inspiring and amazing Miranda (also known as @dolan-twin-trash) I love you so much! If you guys have any requests please send them in because my inbox is as good as empty :)


‘Girl, you look beautiful! What are you worrying about?’ your friend asked, following  your hands which were trying to fix your hair. But you could run your hands a thousand times through that frizzy mess, it wouldn’t change a thing.

Your brows were furrowed in a deep frown as s you looked at yourself in the tiny mirror and couldn’t stand the way your hair was looking tonight. Most of the time it looked okay, but when you needed it to look good, it looked awful.

‘No no, it doesn’t,’ you cried out frustratedly and let your arms drop next to you. You rolled your eyes and walked to the air mattress on which your friend was laying. You two were getting ready in your tent, making yourselves looking all fleeky for the big party tonight. Your friend had done your make up and she was really proud of the ‘birthday look’, but unfortunately your hair had a will of his own.

It was a birthday party which your friends had organised for you, along with a short vacation on a nice camping next to the beach. You absolutely loved the beach. When you were little you went to the beach with your parents every summer. It was a place where you had made many memories.

When you felt the sand between your toes and the wind blowing through your hair, you knew you could stay there for hours and watch the sun set. The fresh water and soft sounds of the waves made your worries all seem to go away. It was simply just peaceful and it put you in a calming state of mind.

'I just want to look nice tonight, just for once. Everyone is going to look at me, you know. It’s my party,’ you said and looked at your friend. She was laying on her side and glanced up, her eyes meeting yours. She smiled and stroked your arm gently.

'I know. But you always look good, and I’m not just saying  that to make you feel better. Are you…’ She stopped for a moment, thinking she maybe shouldn’t say what she was planning on. 'What?’ You asked sharply.

She sighed. 'Do you want to look good for, I don’t know… Ethan?’ You narrowed your eyes and studied her expression to make sure she wasn’t fooling you. You opened your mouth but closed it immediately.

Yes, you liked Ethan, but it was hard for you to say that out loud. Especially because you didn’t even know yourself if he was more than just a crush.

You guys had been friends for years, but in the last few months things between you had changed. At the beginning of the school year he started flirting with you like crazy. At first you didn’t know if he was being serious, but all of your female friends said that you were blind and he was trying to make a move on you.

Your friend could read on your face you were a bit struggling. 'It’s totally fine if you do like him, Y/N. All I want to say is that you should be careful with who you trust. Ethan seems like a nice guy, but you can never be sure until you actually go and talk to him,’ she said sweetly.

'I know. He probably isn’t even interested in me,’ you said, shrugging your shoulders. All of a sudden your friend jumped up, a big smile curling around her lips. 'Don’t be so negative, you never know that!’ She helped you up and hugged you.

A feeling of warmth filled you up, realizing that the person that was holding you was more important than any  boy that would ever come into your life. And you were eternally  grateful for that.

When she pulled back to look at you, she smiled. 'Don’t worry so much, Y/N. This night is all about you. Everyone is here for you. You are amazing, even if you don’t think that sometimes.’ 'Thank you,’ you said quietly. She winked and put an arm around you, dragging you towards the opening of the tent. 'Well, come on! We have a party to get to.’


The party had started out way better than you could ever imagine. One of your friends had made an enourmous birthday cake with the cutest decoration you’d ever saw. It was edible, but it was almost a shame to eat it, so much effort she had put into the details.

After you all had eaten a piece of the amazing cake you watched the sunset together, talking and laughing and acting like the world was at your feet. There was a bonfire and a volleyball net, which of course was very inviting to you and your friends to play a few games. It was a very fun night and you couldn’t remember the last time you had such a good time and your stomach hurted from laughing too much.

When the sun had gone down and all of your friends had gathered around the bonfire to roast marshmallows, you sat down and looked around you. You felt very happy to have all these amazing people in your life, and sometimes you weren’t appreciating them enough.

When your eyes had passed all of the faces which where lightened up by the fire, you couldn’t ignore the fact that Ethan wasn’t here. He had been flirting with you all night and he even insisted on being in the same team as you with volleyball, which meant more to you than you wanted to admit. But of course you weren’t complaining.

Just when decided to excuse yourself and go look for him, someone laid a hand on your upper back and sat down on the treetrunk next to you. Before you even saw who it could be you knew it was Ethan. No one else smelled the way he did; so good and manlike.

'Ethan,’ you breathed out. 'That’s me,’ he said and grinned. 'How are you?’ 'I’m good, thanks,’ you responded. It was quiet between the two of you after that, the only sounds coming from the crackling bonfire and the giggling people around you.

You noticed your friend at the other side of the bonfire, staring at you with a meaningful look. You could slap yourself in the face for the fact you didn’t know what you could say to him. Everything that crossed your mind right now seemed so unimportant right now.

'Eh, are you having a good time?’ You asked, looking at him. He looked so insanely gorgeous. His eyes looked like they were made out of gold in the light of the fire; they had his hazy glow which was very beautiful. His hair was a bit messy from playing volleyball and his attempts to fix it with his also beautiful hands made your knees go weak.

'Yes, I’m having a great time. Thank you for inviting me,’ he responded. 'Of course, E.’ It was the first time you called him E, and you weren’t sure if he liked that. It sounded good in your ears, though.

It was quiet again between you two, but Ethan didn’t seem to mind. You saw him looking at your thighs and before he could stop himself he absently wiped the sand from your naked legs. You watched his big hand gently touching your skin. He saw you looking and immediately pulled his hand back, as if he just now realized what he was doing.

'Oh, eh, I’m sorry… I-’ he started, but you just giggled. Even in this light you could see his cheeks getting a little red. 'It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.’ You glanced up to at his face and saw he was already looking at you. 'Do you want to go for a walk?’ he asked all of a sudden.

You were caught off guard, not expecting him to ask that. You hesitated. Wouldn’t it be weird to leave at your own party?  Ethan noticed you were doubting. 'We won’t be gone for long, I promise.’ You knew Ethan always had good intentions; you trusted him. 'Okay. Sure,’ you responded.

Ethan got up and grabbed your hand to stand up, even though you could easily stand up without any help. You expected him to let go of your hand, but as you started walking you realized to your surprise that he didn’t.

The softness of his hands kept reminding you an angel was walking at your side and all you could hope was that yours weren’t sweaty, which was usual the case if you were feeling a little nervous.

Maybe it was because of the few drinks you had drank tonight or maybe it was something else, but it felt like everything had changed and everything was possible. You weren’t sure, but you did know that you needed to cherish this moment.

As you guys were walking and the tension had finally dropped from your shoulders, you started talking. And he started talking. And making you laugh. And you made him laugh as well. If it was possible to listen to his laugh forever, you definitely would. It was your favourite sound in the whole wide world.

It wasn’t long before you were so far away from the bonfire that it was just a tiny dot, far behind you. 'Do you want to go for a swim?’ Ethan asked casually. You smiled and squeezed his hand gently. 'I would love to, but I don’t have my swimsuit with me.’

'Who says you need a swimsuit?’ Ethan asked, and the tone of his voice betrayed he was up to something. Up to no good. You stopped so abruptly that Ethan let go of your hand. 'What do you mean?’ you asked, your voice almost inaudible with the sounds of the waves in the background.

'I mean… maybe we can go skinny dipping,’ he said cheeky. You giggled. 'What?’ Ethan was smiling his beautiful smile now. 'Why not? I have known you for so long, it doesn’t have to be weird.’

You looked at him for a moment and in that short moment, you knew you were in love. And maybe this would ruin everything, but you couldn’t keep lying to yourself. You loved him. More than just a friend.

'Okay,’ you responded simply and before Ethan could say anything else, you quickly took of your shirt. Luckily you had put on one of the nicest bras you had, in case Ethan was looking. He took of his shirt as well, revealing his toned torso and muscly arms.

You took of your shorts and Ethan mirrored your actions. You sucked in a deep breath as you undid yourself from your underwear. Ethan kept looking into your eyes while he took of his boxers. The soft breeze that was playing with your hair felt nice and warm on your skin, but it still made your nipples hard, for a reason you didn’t know yet.

You had never felt so exposed in your life, but for some reason you weren’t nervous or scared for him to see you naked. But still, you appreciated Ethan didn’t look at your body right away, although he probably had when you stripped yourself down in front of him.

One of the things you adored about him was that he always tried to make you comfortable, and it didn’t matter in which situation you were in. He made a funny face before he turned around to run and jump into the water, making you laugh.

You could see his bare butt before he disappeared into the darkness. You followed him instanttly and to your pleasant surprise the water wasn’t cold at all. The night air was still warm and the water was very refreshing.


After some plashing and playing around you swam to Ethan. He watched you with a look you had never seen before, but one that made your heart skip a few beats. You had never gone skinny dipping but for some reason it felt very freeing, like you were one with the water.

Ethan was standing in the water now and his feet were able to touch the bottom. He laughed when you tried to put your feet down but accidently submerged. Ethan was at least twenty centimeters taller than you and this was his chance to use that in his advantage.

'Are you okay?’ he asked when you came to the surface again, coughing. When you went down you accidently swallowed a lot of water. You couldn’t respond while you were still coughing, trying to get the salty water out of your lungs.

Ethan swam quickly to you and suddenly a pair of strong arms grabbed your back and legs. Within a second you were floating in his arms, Ethan holding you like a baby. You looked up to his beautiful face and were so amazed by his beauty that you couldn’t bring out a word.

'Did you forgot how to swim, huh?’ Ethan joked, but you could hear in his voice he was still a bit concerned. 'Luckily you were there to save me, or else I would have drowned at my own birthday party.’ Ethan grinned and slowly leaned in to press a wet but chast kiss on your forehead.

'Ethan…’ you started, feeling confused. 'I know, I know… But Y/N, I can’t lie to you anymore. Or to myself.’ 'What?’ you whispered. 'Isn’t it obvious? I freaking like you, Y/N. And if you don’t like me back then we’ll just go back to being friends again and forget this ever happened. But I have to be honest with you.’

You were almost unable to speak. What this a dream? 'I-I don’t want to go back to being your friend again…’ you said, your voice sounding raspy. Maybe it was because of the salt in your throat or the fact you were feeling emotional with Ethan admitting his feelings for you.

Ethan was quiet, waiting for you to say something else. 'All I want to do is this,’ you whispered and grabbed his jaw, gently but needy pulling him to your face. And then you kissed him.

Ethan freezed for a moment but when he realized what you were doing, he leaned in even closer and parted your lips, discovering your mouth with his tongue. A quiet moan left your mouth when you felt a tingly sensation going down your spine. You twirled your fingers in his wet curls.

Everything was so good, so perfect. When Ethan pulled back and broke the kiss, you knew it was only because he was out of breath. And when he licked his lips and leaned in again, you hoped this time it would last forever.

All My Friends Are Heathens, Pt.9

summary: In an alternate universe where monsters roam freely among humans, eight of these creatures group together under one roof. Their newest member, a dark vampire, comes to meet their reoccurring house guest who may be more than what she seems.

pairing: Bucky x Reader
word count: 3604
genre: AU
warnings: Mentions of violence and some tension
a/n: Holy crap, it’s been months but this is it, friends! The series is finally over! I know it’s been a bit of a trial getting to this point but I seriously can’t begin to describe how much I appreciate you for sticking around. Thanks for the being so patient with me and showing interest and support in the series. You’re awesome and I love you and I hope you like it okayimgonnagoawaybyebyenow

Click HERE for more character information

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9

Originally posted by tomorrowforyesterday

[ previously ]

“Well, what’s that bright light then? I can barely keep my eyes open,” you complained as you sat upright.

“What are you talking about?” Bucky opened his eyes and looked over to the windows across the room but there was no light coming from them. However, through his peripheral vision, he could see that something really was starting to shine. When he turned to see, his eyes widened in shock. “Y/N…it’s you.”

The look of alarm on Bucky’s face sent a wave of fear through you but before you could say anything, the entire room started to shake violently. Your skin was glowing brighter, heating up to near-boiling temperatures and you started to scream. A high pitched whistling started echoing throughout not just the bedroom but the entire grounds of the manor. There was banging at the door followed by Steve’s worried cries as he tried to bust through from outside. Bucky tried to reach out to you as a blinding light engulfed your body and pulled you away. All he could do was cover his eyes and scream your name.

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anonymous asked:

Hi Hilary, apologies if you don't want to talk about this any more. But as a historian, what's your opinion on the "preserving history" argument of current events?

I think it’s misguided at best and openly racist at worst, has nothing to do with preserving history, is an exercise in denial and cowardice, and is certainly not what anyone who pretends to be concerned about it really cares about.

(Prepare yourself for a rant.)

The thing is, we have a certain subset of white people acting as if the history of the Confederacy will somehow magically be Forgotten if we take down the statues/monuments/associated physical legacy of their presence. You know who sure as hell has not forgotten the Nazis? Germany. Germany has not forgotten the Nazis one bit. Nor do they play around with it. You can and will be arrested if you fly the Nazi flag or give the Nazi salute in Germany, and they have destroyed nearly all the Nazi buildings or any place that could be used as a shrine or gathering place. The difference here is that Germany a) knows what the Nazis were, and b) hasn’t decided to disingenuously reduce them to a “heritage” or “Germanic pride” or fly the Nazi flag the same way the Confederate flag is proudly flown today. They have not tried to celebrate their racist, terrible past. They have taken steps to dissociate themselves from it as strongly as possible, and now lead Europe in taking in the most refugees from the Middle East, as well as having a chancellor (Angela Merkel) who is essentially the new leader of the free world. Germany hasn’t forgotten its history, it teaches that history and is always, always aware of it, and somehow manages to do that without valorizing or insisting on the continued existence of Nazi paraphernalia as “important history.”

The point of all this is: white people in America have been HAPPY to forget their history for years and years, selectively misremember it, tolerate and even idolize the Confederacy and its beliefs and symbols, and now they’re suddenly worried it will vanish? Give me a break. Black people in America have had to live with the knowledge of this history every day. They do not get the luxury of disengaging from it. Every black child has to learn about and confront the existence of racism and the legacy of this history. White kids don’t have to. They can skate. And white people get really upset when conversations about race or history of race come up. Why are you bringing that up, that was a long time ago, etc, etc. America has never systematically confronted and denounced its racist history the way Germany has. It continues to be celebrated. We have that fucking TV show (Confederate) in production, where it will basically provide an imaginative space for what a large portion of the population wishes HAD happened (that the South won the Civil War and slavery in its historical form remained legal). THERE IS NO CHANCE AT ALL, ANYWHERE, OF THIS HISTORY BEING FORGOTTEN ABOUT, AND THE PEOPLE MOANING THAT IT MIGHT BE ARE THE ONES WHO HAVE DONE THE FORGETTING.

(Also: Many of the actual post-Confederates, including Robert E. Lee himself, disavowed their participation and viewed it as treason. Lee refused to be buried in his Confederate uniform or have his colleagues wear it to his funeral. His direct descendants agree the statue should come down. When did the revival of Confederate symbols start? Jim Crow. When did the Confederate flag start flying over the South Carolina statehouse again? 1961. As in, it was constructed specifically in reaction to the civil rights movement, as deeply racist Southern whites continued to resist the idea of black people having any agency or recognition. That was when Confederate monuments became a thing: NOT FROM THE ACTUAL CONFEDERACY.) 

Let’s imagine for a moment that there was a large group of people who had put up a bunch of statues of, say, Osama bin Laden, and made a huge fuss about the possibility of them coming down. They view the attack of 9/11 as the triumph of a small band of patriots over an oppressive tyrannical oligarchy. They fly a flag with the planes crashing into the twin towers, and insist it’s not about the actual deaths of the people involved, it symbolises “culture” or “heritage” or whatever else. Let’s also say these people insisted that their right to defend a statue of OBL, a guy who clearly hated America and made that clear at every turn, was fully compatible with their identity as patriotic Americans, and in fact still to be preferred any time that identity is challenged. Let’s further say that a large segment of the population tacitly or explicitly agrees with them, demands the statue should stay up and attacks anyone who questions its existence in a public space, and claim that you are as bad as the other side if you want it taken down and insist that the flag cannot be dissociated from its history and the deaths involved. You get nowhere by pointing out that OBL, as noted, actually hated America and was fighting to destroy it. Even your supposedly liberal white friends become oddly deaf when the subject is raised, or give some version of the “well I don’t like it either, but this is America/we respect everyone/it’s history” argument. At worst, there are people marching underneath this flag, putting it as a bumper sticker on their pickup trucks, stockpiling tons of guns, and treating it as something to be inspired, celebrated, and replicated.

You’d feel like you were taking crazy pills. You would feel incredibly unsafe every time you stepped outside – what if you met one of these crazies and they targeted you? You would wonder how nobody else on earth could apparently see that no, these people are terrorists, and we are celebrating the murder of innocent people and it may be history, but why is it being treated as a fetishistic and terrifying subculture instead of a tragic and shameful event that we should never want to repeat? And yet, that is exactly what is happening with America’s collective denial and ongoing reluctance to talk about the Confederacy or put it in those terms. There’s always another excuse, and frankly, when Americans have been fed on a steady diet of “America Is Teh Awesomest” for years and years and have no way of critiquing or understanding their actual history without getting offended and going for the “all terrorists hate freedom!” route, the cumulative historical denial is both sad and staggering. Nothing, in this framework, is ever America’s fault, specifically white America’s. But if the people moaning about history being forgotten actually cared about history, they would have to confront the fact that that is simply, empirically not the case.

The fact is, America was built on white supremacy, slavery, and genocide, the victims of that history have no way of forgetting it, and view it pretty incredulously when white people start wringing their hands over it. That is just a historically verifiable reality, and yet white people go for the “long time ago” or “black on black crime” or “I’m not personally racist” defenses, rather than actually listening to the people who have never had the luxury of overlooking that history. This is why we get the absurd both-siderism. On the one hand, we have violent white supremacists proudly identifying as Nazis, a political movement that used to be uncontroversially identified as the most evil of the 20th century, if not ever, and which has roots that go back centuries in vilifying and exterminating anyone who is not a cis Christian straight white male. On the other, we have Black Lives Matter and other protest groups, who are defending their communities and people from the consequences of that ongoing mentality, sometimes violently. Then we have white people on Facebook posting things like, “Both sides are equally guilty! Bad all around! Everyone’s to blame!”

Sorry. No.

There is an overwhelming tendency to favor the status quo over actual justice, and to sanctimoniously condemn any violence used by a marginalized group – we somehow think that people only ever achieve recognizance of their humanity by holding hands and being “non-violent,” and that any time they forcibly resist the overwhelming and somehow-always-justified violence of the dominant group, they lose any expectation of our sympathy. We want to be violent against people of color without consequences, and we might allow them to struggle for liberation if we feel like it, but they have to do it Nicely. We might tepidly condemn the killings of unarmed black people, or post memes about “coming together,” or “not all cops,” or so forth. But when unarmed Native Americans at Standing Rock in 2016 are met with tanks, water cannons, full military deployments, tear gas, guns, and dogs, as were (and are) African Americans at lunch counters or city streets in the 1960s, then no, we do not get to claim that anything has changed. Because the instant those people resist being killed, or call out the comfortable white status quo, or challenge the state’s forever-sanctioned and always-admirable (according to its defenders) violence, they’re just as bad as neo-Nazis.

Sure. Right.

I get it’s a difficult topic. I get it’s hard for white Americans to actually look at what it means to be both white and American in a world where they have always benefited from these identities, and where White Liberalism and White Feminism ™ is just as racist while steadfastly insisting it’s not. Especially when you add American exceptionalism to the mix, where America is never responsible for anything and is the greatest country in the world, there is nothing remotely close to Germany’s decades-long reparations for the Nazis. American culture holds that saying sorry is for wimps. We need to be Proud of Our Heritage.

Nobody’s advocating for the Confederate monuments to be destroyed. They can be kept in a museum, or in storage, or wherever else. But insisting on their continued presence in public life is saying, “I want my right to believe the same things they did to be validated, and I want people personally affected by this belief to Know Their Place and It’s Just History Get Over It, and I don’t want to be challenged on whether this was wrong; I just want everyone to think about it how I do.” It is an insistence on power and an insistence on the safe and comfortable narrative of history that is completely removed from reality. When people say they don’t want Confederate history forgotten, they mean they don’t want white mainstream history to be challenged; they don’t want the people most hurt by this history to get uppity ideas about speaking out or breaking the cycle or making them face consequences. They want to go back to denial, and they resent the people trying to educate them otherwise. It’s the exact opposite of all this sudden Concern for History (which, as noted, isn’t going anywhere).

Conservative movements jeer at liberals all the time for being “snowflakes” who need “safe spaces,” and mainstream liberalism, as noted, can have incredible problems. But then conservatives are the ones crying about how difficult it is to be a racist these days (cry me a river, buddy) and painting liberals as tyrants who want to crush these poor, misunderstood white men whose influence and legacy might somehow vanish from the world (spoiler alert: not happening). So if preserving history is actually what anyone is worried about, don’t talk to your black friends about it. Don’t tell your black friends how much you hate racism. Talk to your white friends about it. Tell your white friends how much you hate racism. Then perhaps you might understand just how much the bubble of privilege protects you, and face the possibility of actually disrupting your life and losing friends or family in the way that white Americans get to take for granted that they do not have to do.

So yeah. It’s not in any sense about really preserving history, and frankly, my opinion as a historian is that I need another god damn drink. And I don’t even drink.

Not Very Social

@the-laursa hope you enjoy love. x

A/N: i don’t do smut, so don’t ask || enjoy ♥

Fandom: Disney Descendants

Boy: Harry Hook

Word Count: 1,759

Warning(s): Fluff

‘’You ready to fight?’’

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“Ready to Run” (cinco)

Summary: (Modern-Day AU) In which five youngsters come to know how important it is to live your life to the fullest, leave an imprint of every single moment you’ve lived on your heart, because you’re given the chance to live only once. [Movie AU]

Word Count: 4788 (whew)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (female)

Warnings: so much drama 

Author’s Note: *evil laughter*

s/o to my wife, Yvy (@minervaem) for editing this for me

also, i want to dedicate this part to Carolina (@sanjariti) bc she’s been waiting for the big reveal for so long ;)

“Ready to Run” Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

(gif is not mine*)

Roadside Disputes

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Dorian - Two Years Later

During the Exalted Council, if the Inquisitor speaks to Dorian, he sits in front of a chessboard. So, I headcanon that this happened (chess’ headcanons from here):

“I saw Demetra’s hand, Cullen.”
The silence felt heavy between the two of them.
 They had met a couple of hours before, when the new Tevinter ambassador had smugly shooed away his colleagues that were chatting around the Commander.
They both needed to speak and they both knew they gave their best if some chess game was involved.
So, they played.
Dorian spoke quietly again, tapping one finger on the luxurious chess board “Well, I admit I forced her to show me her hand. When you wrote me the first time I thought you were a bit paranoid. Now, I regret you didn’t write me earlier.”
The mage moved his pawn “Do not think I’m blaming you, of course. I’m furious with the stupid me.”
The Commander opened his mouth, his eyes gentle, but Dorian shook one hand vehemently “Please, don’t. I’m a Mage. And a very good one. I should have known that an ancient magic such as that damned Anchor is couldn’t just stay quietly carved on her flesh forever. Visante kaffas, I have been so stupid!”
“Nobody could foresee this, Dorian. Nobody. I’m sure Demetra told you the same.”
“Actually she told me to stop being silly and give her another cup of tea.”
Both the men forced a smile.
“How is she doing, Cullen?”
“She…” he stopped, staring at the chessboard. He couldn’t say aloud again what she had said him not later than six weeks ago – six weeks and five days ago, most precisely. He couldn’t. Dorian had the right to know, though.
“She is fighting the Anchor, but she’s not sure who will win.”
Dorian sighed heavily, pinching his nose in a poor attempt to hide his reddened eyes “We’ll save her, Cullen, even if I had to invent a spell myself bargaining with all the spirits in the Fade.”
Cullen looked at him, his throat painfully clenched.
“Thank you.”
It was all he managed to say and it was insufficient to express his gratitude towards Dorian. Towards his friend.
Dorian understood and nodded anyway.
“I told her she shouldn’t be here, wasting her time with this useless, ungrateful bunch of people.” the Mage hissed “She should take care of herself better.”
“I told her the same” the Commander captured Dorian’s Hero of Ferelden “But Demetra helped Thedas’ people while they suspected her of destroying the Conclave, calling her an abomination. She’s not going to act any different now that she carries the Inquisitor title.”
“I bet she also doesn’t want to put Leliana in a more precarious position.”
“That, too.”
“I warned her that nobody was going to thank her,” Dorian sighed conquering a position near Cullen’s Divine “And I fucking hate being right. But this? An Exalted Council against the only person who stood up between Corypheus and the world? This is beyond ingratitude. It’s monstrous.”
A silent nod was all that Cullen could add.
Cassandra had said something along that line, in a more colorful way. Varric, the same. Sera had already menaced to kill at least thirty nobles and twenty diplomats. The Iron Bull and Thom Ranier hadn’t spoken very much, but they escorted their Inquisitor silently daring people to say something wrong, as Demetra greeted people here and there.
Vivienne had been kind enough to keep away from the Inquisitor the most problematic guests, while Josephine took care of being the first to talk with the ones who would like very much spat their venom in the Inquisitor’s face. Cole had asked Maryden to sing Demetra’s favorite song and Leliana, though bounded to her role, had sent in her bedroom fresh flowers, trustworthy servants, useful information about the ones who still sided with the Inquisition and a giant box of the finest Orlesian chocolate.
Demetra had wept in Cullen’s arms “I’m so lucky to have all of you. As long as you still trust me, I’m alright.”
Dorian cleared his throat “Speaking about messy things, I heard there was quite a problem with the bedrooms when the Inquisition arrived.”
The Commander couldn’t stop the blush, but Dorian’s grin was full of pride “Well done, Cullen!”
“So everybody knows about my change of quarters?”
“Are you kidding me? The Commander of the Inquisition army that takes his luggage, ignores the outraged Chamberlain and marches in the Inquisitor’s quarters declaring that he will stay there, messing with thousands of years of protocol? My friend, you are a legend.”
Cullen shrugged “Demetra agreed and I’m not going to leave her alone just because a useless etiquette told me so.”
“Of course! I can already hear the minstrels singing about the Lion of the Inquisition who marched in his beloved Inquisitor room and took her in his strapping arms before kissing…”
“Yes, thank you, Dorian, I get the concept.” Cullen shivered, making him laugh. A sincere one.
“And I didn’t kiss her in front of everybody! I just told them to go to bother someone else.”
“So no kisses? Not even a little one?” Dorian pouted.
Cullen tried to not grin “I didn’t say that.”
Dorian winked at him “Your admirers will be heartbroken to have the ultimate confirmation that you’re not available.”
Cullen smiled “Finally! Maybe they’ll stop to send crows asking me to marry this countess or that noble.”
Dorian tipped his head on the side “Since we’re speaking about this, let me ask you a thing: are you going to ask her to marry you?”
No hesitation. No uncertainty. Just fierce firm belief.
“Good. Soon?”
“Do you have a plan?”
“Not anymore. I had one, but now I suppose I need another one.”
“Do you have a ring?”
“I was going in Denerim to buy one when all of this happened.”
Dorian nodded again, stopping their match, and fishing something out of his pocket. Cullen took the delicate box from his hands with a perplexed frown. When he opened it, he couldn’t hold back a surprised sound: laying against soft velvet, a couple of golden rings glittered under the afternoon sun. Inside the biggest one, it was carved “Demetra & Cullen”. In the other one, he read “Cullen & Demetra”. A line of minuscule arabesques in the external part made them two little masterpieces of gold-working.
Before he could speak, Dorian smiled, quiet and sincere “In my Country, it’s the best friend of a bride or a groom that buys the wedding bands. Now, since you don’t have a lot of friends that can  be better than me and I’m quite sure Demetra loves me as much as I love her, allow me to follow one of the few traditions that I’m still proud to.”
Cullen’s thanks were too full of emotion to be as much eloquent as he wished, but they were sincere in every bit. And Dorian winked at him “One last thing: I won’t tell you to take care of her. I have no doubt you will because she’s lovely and you don’t want that an angry Magister sets your ass on fire.”
Cullen smiled, but he knew Dorian was deadly serious.
His friend continued “What I want you to promise me is that the two of you will do the impossible to be happy together. That you will treasure what you two have and you will fight to keep it alive. Life can be hard even for people who love each other as you two do, but you have something precious. Treasure it.”
“I will. We will, I promise on my life.”
“Good. And now, let’s finish this game. I want to take back some Tevinter pride and kick that awesome Fereldan ass of your.”
Cullen chuckled, putting the precious box with the rings safely in his pocket “Good luck with that. And… thank you, Dorian.”

Every reblog, comment and tag are deeply treasured and yes, I read them all!!!!! 

Caught by the Beast

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Smut
Rating: Mature
Written by xoxoTheQueenOfHearts

WARNING:: TeacherxStudent au

You walked into your university building with even more enthusiasm than usual. When your gorgeous, ex-Military professor, Mr. Jeon had asked to see you in his office, you knew today was the day. You were going to seduce him.

You thought this carefully, going back to your dorm and changing into something more provocative that was until you got to his office.

“Come in”, he said while standing up in response to your knock. You looked at him, still astounded that he was your professor.

Standing at 6'6, with broad shoulders and visible muscle bulges, he was a force to be reckoned with. Add that to a deep voice that you just knew could growl, and you wanted to climb him like you were starving and the last banana was in his pants.

“Yes Mr. Jeon, You said you wanted to see me after your office hours?” You asked him, confused but excited to be as close to alone as you could be in a university building.

“Come in and close the door.” He said nonchalantly.

You closed it and sat down, waiting for him to tell you why you were called here so late in the day.

“We have to talk about your recent class performance. I have noticed some… new behavior from you and I wanted to have a chat.” He started as he glanced at you.

You blushed, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

You were sure your roommate had noticed your longer showers or you going to bed early, but you needed some way of relieving your stress!

Masturbating was fine at first, but now you needed the real thing. You guessed you weren’t keeping your obvious attraction to him as subtle as you had thought.

“While I am lecturing, I have noticed you staring at me several times. More specifically, staring at my crotch. I am sure you know that this is not professional behavior.” He said in a stern voice.

You couldn’t believe this. Not only did your superhot professor catch you staring at the outline of his dick through his pants, but now he is talking to you about it. You just blushed harder and looked down, trying to pull your skirt down at the same time. But, he continued.

“Another change I have noticed is your clothing. Look at what you are wearing to this meeting! You like it when I look at you, don’t you?” He taunted at you and you bit your bottom lip.

“Um… what? I am sorry Mr. Jeon… what do you mean?” You rambled stuttering out what to say.

He grabbed your hand and stood you up. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know. I have caught you staring at me all semester. Now you are coming to class in smaller and smaller clothes. I remember when you wore this skirt last week, because I remember the red and white underwear you were wearing.”

You stared at him in shock, your heart beating in your chest. You weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed or aroused. “Oh yes, I look back at you.” He said.

His hand brushed along the side of your face, framing it and brushing the hair out of your eyes. Suddenly he twisted his hand up into your hair, jerking your head back.

“If you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask. I would have gladly obliged. But since you decided to be a little slut and try and trick me, you are going to have to work for it.” he threatened in a dark tone, his eyes never leaving him, his voice going lower with each sentence.

Your knees felt weak, and you could feel how wet your panties were getting. You could feel your thighs getting slippery. You were sure he could see your nipples poking out through your bra, a thought that was confirmed when he used the hand that wasn’t in your hair to start playing with one.

After a few moments of this, however you learned that you wouldn’t be let off that easy.

“Now, if you want to do this, you will have to follow my rules. You are to either address me as Sir or Professor at all times. You are to do what I tell you. If you do not want to, the word that will make me stop is ‘red’. Do you understand?” His voice darkened but enough to threaten.

“Yes, Sir.” You replied. You still can’t believe this was happening to you!

“Kneel.” was his first command, one that you obeyed enthusiastically. “Let’s see if you are as good as you look.” he said while unbuttoning his pants. He pulled out the most beautiful dick you had ever seen. Starting with a large head, it grew until the base was so thick you had serious doubts about your ability to fit the entirety of him inside you.

You were reaching for it when he moved back. “Today, I want you to only use your mouth.” He instructed.

Starting at the tip, you let your tongue swirl around the head, enjoying the side skin on your lips. Opening your mouth, you explored the veins and ridges with your tongue. His hands reaching into your hair again and told you that he was ready to get down to business.

You opened up wider and started to give the best blowjob of your life. You went as deep as you could go, and then went deeper still, feeling his huge cock fill your throat. When you gagged, he pulled you back and had you concentrate on the tip again until you were ready to try and deep throat him again.

Hearing him swear under his breath told you that you were on the right path. Suddenly, he pulled you off him entirely, leaving you gasping, with your own spit all over your chin.

“That wasn’t half bad, but there is room for improvement. Now, let’s see the rest of your… assets. Take off your shirt but leave the rest on. ” he instructed again.

Still kneeling, you pulled your tee shirt over your head. If you thought your nipples were hard before, they could cut glass now. Between the blowjob, and finally living your fantasy of being on your knees before him with his eyes on your breasts, you thought you were going to faint.

“Stand up,” he commanded, giving you a helping hand. He slowly walked around you as you tried not to fidget. “You are gorgeous.” he breathed, coming back around you.

He cupped your breasts making you catch your breath. “The things I will do to you. I could tell by your cocksucking that you are desperate for good dick. How long has it been since you’ve had sex?” He questioned.

“Six months,” you said, with your head down, ashamed of how long it had been since someone found you attractive.

“That is perfect. I love fucking someone who has been celibate for a while. Go stand in front of the desk.” He instructed.

You rose to your feet and walked the couple of steps till your thighs hit the desk. Your heart pounded with excitement while your pussy was dripping. You knew that your thong was soaked.

“Bend over, and grip the other side of the desk. Now, you will be punished for being a little slut during class. Do you know how many times I had to come here after class and jerk off to you? Thinking of doing exactly…” he trailed off while lifting the back of your skirt. You knew your ass and pussy were exposed and could feel a slight breeze on them. “This.” he said finishing his sentence at the same moment his palm smacked your ass cheek.


You jumped with a little squeal, prompting him to take action. With quick movements, he pulled off his tie and stuffed it in your mouth, muffling any further sounds you might make.

“Good sluts know when they can make noise and when they can’t. Until you can learn, I will have to gag you. Understand?”

You nodded, even more excited. You had dreamt of him bending you over his desk and bringing your ass to a nice cherry red so many times, this felt unreal. Each spank hit a different spot on your ass, until the cheek was red and you could feel the heat it was giving off.

You tried to be a good slut, but you knew that he heard some of your moans.

“Are you sorry for being such a little slut during class?” he asked you while removing his tie from your mouth.

“Yes Sir.” You replied, trying to get some salvia back into your mouth.

“You are going to show me what a good slut you are by taking this cock, understand? I am going to fuck you hard and fast until you cum all over my desk.”

“Oh, god yes please,” You half moaned to him while trying to twist around and make eye contact.

“Face forward!” he growled, pushing your hips into the desk, showing you for the first time the strength he had, how you were totally at his mercy.

Using one finger, he brushed your clit through the panties. Brining his now damp finger to his nose, he said “Hmmm it has been a while. That must be hard for a slut like you. You are thirsty for this cock aren’t you?”

“Yes Sir! Please fuck me. I need this, fuck me like a little slut.” You begged in a moan.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” he whispered while pulling your thong to the side.

You felt the head of his dick parting your pussy lips, rubbing up and down hitting your clit. You were filled with anticipation, and longing. You never wanted anything in your life the way you wanted his cock buried deep inside you.

Finding the entrance, he pushed. you felt the head enter you and knew you were in for a ride. You had never had a cock that big before and already felt yourself stretching.

“God, you are so fucking tight!” he growled in your ear, pulling out so he could go deeper. It took several strokes to get his entire length inside you. When it was, he just stood there, balls deep letting you get used to him.

“When you said it had been a while, I didn’t know it meant you would be this tight! Or this wet.” he added starting to stroke. While you had been making small moans, you were soon panting.

“Sir, may I have the tie back? I don’t think I can be quiet with you fucking me like this. It is too good to be quiet.” You panted.

“No. You must be quiet or I will stop. And I am just getting started.” he threatened while starting to fuck you faster. The long, deep strokes were driving you wild.

You started biting your lip until you tasted blood. Pounding you with a steady pace, you felt every inch. You felt the veins entering you, and the tip of his dick hitting your cervix.

You were already so close to cumming, but you wanted to make it last. You felt his balls slapping your clit as he pounded you harder, grunting with each stroke.

“Oh FUCK,” he gasped as you felt his stroke falter.

“Please, Sir, cum on my ass.” You moaned while letting the building pleasure rock your body as you came, gushing on his dick and biting your hand.

With a final thrust, he pulled out and let strand after strand of cum fall all over your red ass and skirt. He remained standing behind you and you were afraid to move. “You can stand up now,” he said, catching his breath.

Chest Wound

Self-indulgent Dick and Batdad!Bruce gen hurt/comfort ahead.

It was impossible to tell what time it was without a clock, the den was so guarded from natural light. The only glow in the room was from the television, which had been playing episodes of Brooklyn 99 in a steady stream; every fourth episode Dick had to press a button to confirm that he was still watching.

Anything beyond that required moving, and moving was something Dick did not want, for once in his life. Every muscle and joint was sore and shifting around on the couch sent ribbons of tender, bruised pain curling around his bones. Plus, the concussion, which made standing up a giant mistake.

Alfred had been checking on him every so often and Damian had been all but drugged to sleep after his anxious and defensive hovering was making everyone more tense. He’d been ushered upstairs with a, “I swear I’m fine, Little D,” and a begrudging acceptance that Dick would still be there when he woke up. Toxin and tampered cycle brakes and a brick building had made sure he’d be staying at the Manor for a couple more days at the very least.

But it had been an entire episode and a half since he’d seen anyone and Dick had already swung from appreciating the solitude to wishing he’d not helped send Damian to bed, or that Alfred would stop in again and pretend to do housework to stay, or that Bruce would just come back from wherever the hell he’d disappeared to over two days ago.

Dick was on the verge of sitting up enough to get his charging phone to confirm his suspicion that it was early morning, after another long night of barely being able to sleep, when the door opened and a shadow intercepted the hall light. It fell across the couch and coffee table, long and gray.

A moment later, it moved into the room and he knew without turning that it was Bruce.

“Hey,” he mumbled from the couch, twisting his head just slightly to see Bruce’s face as he stood at the end of the couch with his eyes locked on the television.

“Hey,” Bruce said, long seconds later, pulling his attention to Dick. He looked exhausted and Dick had a worrisome hunch. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Dick said wearily. “Did you just get back?”

Bruce was watching the TV again, like he was trying to figure it out. He nodded slowly and then took the spot on the couch next to Dick.

“They’re in jail,” he said, exhaling and letting his head drop against the couch.

“What?” Dick asked, blinking. He turned down the volume on the TV with the remote by his hand.

“The gang. The ones working with Croc.”

“All of them?” Dick asked, startled. It hadn’t been a small group, which is one of the reasons he’d been distracted and in a hurry enough to leave his cycle vulnerable. “When did you sleep last?”

“All,” Bruce confirmed, rubbing a hand over his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Does it matter? I took care of it.”

The sound of Brooklyn 99 dialogue that Dick wasn’t even following filled the den and he watched the screen a bit listlessly. He was regretting not taking Alfred up on the sedative offer because it was already making him feel like a hypocrite and he hadn’t even actually argued with Bruce yet.

“Of course it matters,” he said lamely. He didn’t know what to follow it with.

“They could have killed you,” Bruce said. He looked like he was just lounging on the couch but Dick had known him long enough to notice the telltale signs: white knuckles, balls of feet on floor instead of flat, the measured breathing.

“So, what’s new?” Dick asked, going for light-hearted. It might have worked, too, if his voice wasn’t so tight with pain and if Bruce hadn’t been clearly running on no sleep in god knew how long, probably a full day or more before he’d hauled Dick back to the Cave.

“It’s not a joke, Dick,” Bruce snapped. His demeanor was all hard anger but it faltered and with the TV on, Dick barely heard him add, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” Dick said. It flew out of his mouth before he thought, tinged faintly with indignant temper. Bruce actually looked at him that time, his red-rimmed and shadowed eyes just slightly startled. “I’m here. I’m alive. There are always going to be more fucking criminals, but what do we do if you’re so exhausted one of them gets lucky? Then what?”

“You’d survive,” Bruce said evenly, after a pause that drew on and on and on.

“I don’t want to survive,” Dick hissed, partly in anger and partly in pain when he shifted so he was angled away from Bruce. He turned the volume back up, louder than it had been before. “I want to come home and see you, not your damned grave.”

The plot he wasn’t even following and only vaguely remembered resolved, he jammed the button to confirm he was watching, and the next episode got through the cold open and the credits before he felt a warm hand on the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said, his fingers kneading the stiff muscles right above Dick’s shoulders. Dick wanted to hold on to his anger but it was hard when some of the ache was leaching out of him. “I know you’re an adult. But it’s hard for me to not take care of you, still.”

“It’s fine,” Dick said, when the brief massage ended and Bruce left his hand there, a comforting weight. He was trying hard not to cry, so he didn’t turn to look at him. He paused the show. “Just sometimes, I wish you could take care of yourself instead of locking people up. It’s fucking terrifying being stuck here while you’re out without backup, backup I know you won’t call for after someone gets hurt because you’d so goddamned determined to make sure you’re the only one who suffers. It’s like penance for something that’s not even your fault.”

The entire time he was talking, Bruce didn’t move.

“Dick,” he said, his voice weirdly small in the silence of the room.

“What,” Dick snapped. He was still sitting with his back partially to Bruce, glaring at the other end of the couch. He remembered Tim sulking once in this room, his arms crossed and a dark little scowl on his face, and he felt exactly the same.

An arm went around his shoulders and he was crying before he’d even decided to turn and return the hug, which he did with barely a second’s hesitation. So much for sulking.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said into his hair and Dick felt about a zillion times too old for it, but he didn’t pull back. “I don’t want to put you through that again, either. You’re right.”

The ache in his bones was minimal compared to the weight lifting from his chest. “I love you,” Dick said, the words hoarse. “Damian and Alfred and the rest of them do, too.”

“I know,” Bruce said, with a tired sigh. “I’m slowly resigning myself to the fact. I…I love you, too, chum.”

Dick laughed, something between a sob and a hiccup, and he shoved at Bruce’s chest. “When did you eat last, assuming Al didn’t force feed you already?”

“I’ll go make a sandwich. Need anything?”

With a shake of his head, Dick curled up on the couch again with his arms around his legs. “A milkshake. But I don’t need one.”

He started the show again after Bruce had left, feeling worn out but too tired to fight the steroids in his system and sleep. Long minutes ticked by and he sort of hoped that Bruce would come back and hoped he’d just gone to bed.

Right as the episode was ending, Bruce returned with a plate of sandwiches in one hand and a chocolate milkshake in the other. He handed it wordlessly to Dick and sat back down.

“What are we watching?”

“Comedy,” Dick said, accepting the milkshake with a small grin. “You’re going to hate it but it’ll be good for you. I swear I won’t tell anyone if you laugh.”

“Then I should laugh enough to make it hard for you to keep that promise,” Bruce said, with a crooked smirk. “It’ll be a good challenge.”

“I’ll find a loophole,” Dick said, skipping the end credits. “Just watch.”

How anointing his nephew a new chosen one could have led Luke to ruin

(This entire post was written for funsies - I am fully aware that there is a huge question mark hanging over Hamill’s use of the term ‘chosen one’ in his EW interview. It is a speculative account of what the backstory for the Skywalkers could look like if Luke were under the impression that Ben Solo was a new chosen one. Enjoy it, but please don’t take it too seriously!)

Luke Skywalker, eager to get everything right and re-start the Jedi Order on the best possible footing following the downfall of the Empire, travels the galaxy in search of Force lore. He finds many manuscripts and ancient texts scattered across the galaxy, and draws them all together into a library. He studies them with the assistance of members of the Church of the Force as he begins to assemble a fledgling Jedi Order. Study of the texts reveals many prophecies and predictions, some of which seem frighteningly prescient - in particular, one text contains the prophecy of the Chosen One, which Luke quickly realises pertains to his father. The same text indicates that the chosen one is, in fact, not a single person but part of an ongoing cycle - balance can never be perpetual, since imbalance and crisis will always inevitably upset the true order of things.

Luke is tormented and frustrated by this, and despite his initial sense of optimism and security he gradually becomes more concerned by the idea that there is an impending darkness waiting to return and destroy everything he and his friends fought so hard for. Dark side cults keep on springing up to fill the void left by the Sith, and no amount of preaching seems to reach them - they refuse to see the dark side as the evil corruption that Luke understands it to be. Luke’s fight against the dark side gradually evolves into a crusade, with Luke and his followers battling dark siders across the galaxy.

Luke becomes steadily more insular and fanatical, more adamant than ever that the light side is the source of all that is good in the galaxy. He feels the responsibility for the galaxy’s wellbeing as a heavy burden he carries on his shoulders, and grows increasingly ascetic and detached from day-to-day concerns. This remains the state of things until he receives word from his sister of challenges with his nephew Ben - she claims the boy is troubled, plagued by visions and unable to control his Force powers. Leia takes Ben to Luke who perceives the boy’s torment - particularly his visions of the light side - as a sign that he has been singled out for a special purpose by the Force. Luke convinces Leia to let him train the boy to control his powers, all the while intending to prepare Ben for his destiny as the next chosen one. Brother and sister keep secrets from one another - Leia doesn’t tell Luke of the darkness she has sensed in Ben, afraid of how her light-side zealot of a brother will respond, and Luke doesn’t inform Leia of the weight of Ben’s destiny, believing she might prevent Ben from going with him if told the truth of his intentions.

Stuck in the middle, Ben feels betrayal from all sides - he feels rejected by his mother because of being sent away from home, and he feels completely overwhelmed and intimidated by his uncle’s expectations of him. He feels as if no one understands him - least of all Luke, who imposes his own views onto Ben instead of taking into account the boy’s feelings and descriptions of his visions. It takes years of intense training and indoctrination before Ben comes to see things as Luke does - perceiving himself as the next chosen one, following in the footsteps of his uncle, and the pre-ordained saviour of the galaxy. He takes this responsibility seriously and selflessly dedicates himself to his uncle’s plans for him.

What Luke fails to realise is that there is a seed of darkness within Ben Solo that grows with the boy’s arrogance. The more convinced Ben becomes of his grand destiny as the next chosen one, the more vulnerable he becomes to the lure of the voice he has had in his head from childhood - Snoke. Snoke teases Ben with whispers of Luke’s lies and deceptions, telling the young man that Luke follows a perversion of the Force that denies its innate dualism. Snoke tells Ben that the darkness within him is part of his nature rather than a shameful secret to be hidden and suppressed - that his power is derived from the perfect balance of light and dark that he embodies, rather than the light side alone. By denying his darkness, Skywalker is denying Ben his full potential and keeping him from fulfilling his destiny and saving the galaxy at large. Snoke reminds Ben of Luke’s crusades against the dark side - battles where whole villages were decimated in the name of the light side - and Ben’s anger and resentment grow.

Under Snoke’s influence, Ben becomes more and more convinced that his uncle is the true evil facing the galaxy - radicalised, he starts to plot the destruction of his uncle’s Jedi Order. He struggles with this choice and won’t take the final step until he learns - in a moment of spectacular clarity - that the biggest deception of Skywalker was his failure to tell him that the Jedi Anakin Skywalker - his grandfather - was also Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith. This knowledge emboldens Ben to finally act on his plans and conduct the massacre at the Jedi Temple - with this, he begins his own crusade against cults that believe rigidly in the light side of the Force. In doing so, he is convinced that he is enacting his destiny as the galaxy’s saviour. Ben sinks further and further into his own brand of zealotry, kept on a tight leash by Snoke and subject to incessant praise and flattery that do little to calm the doubt that continues to eat away at him.

Luke, heartbroken, leaves everything behind to go into retreat. Feeling responsible for having unleashed a new dark force onto the galaxy in the form of his nephew, Luke desperately seeks answers that will allow him to divine the true will of the Force and put things right again.

Got to Get You Into My Life → Part I

Description: Part I of GtGYIML; you go out for some fun and meet someone new.

Pairing: Reader (Y/N) x Harry

Word Count: 1,580

You weren’t looking for love, that much was clear. The only reason you went out was because you were looking for a good fuck. All of your friends knew that you weren’t big into the love scene. It was too mushy and sappy. Being a child of several divorces didn’t help too much, either. But, you had to do something about your sexual drive. Not having a partner made you resort to clubs and parties.

So when Matty and Ava invited you to a club, you were quick to accept. They were still in the stage of being lovey-dovey, having only been dating for about seven months now. So, you were sure you would be ditching them the instant you made your way through the doors of the club.

Within hours, you were smashed and shaking your hips on the dance floor. You lived for the party. No one in the room could make you stop your movements.

Until he started dancing near you. His face was not familiar, but he was cute. The few curls that he had bounced as he jumped to the music. You made eye contact and laughed at him. He also had too many drinks. There was a slight stain on his chest.

You made your way over to him to get closer, slinging an arm over his shoulder as you both rolled your hips and jumped around. Most of the time, it was out of sync, but neither of you cared.

Within a few minutes, both of you were covered in sweat. To be honest, it was fairly disgusting. The guy was getting uncomfortable with everyone around and the sweat dripping down his back and asked you to join him outside. You nodded and linked hands with him. His hand was calloused but still soft.

When you stepped outside, you finally had a chance to look him over closer. He was wearing a simple button up shirt and black jeans. His green eyes were bright, despite the only source of light being the neon lights from the club and a street lamp. His lips looked soft and pink. As you scanned over his face, you realized he was looking you over as well.

“Want to go back to my place?” he asked with a smirk.

You admired how blunt he was. There were several instances where you had to plainly tell someone what you wanted to do.

“Sure,” you responded. You would let Ava and Matty know that you left later. Knowing them, they probably already left, wanting to spend more time together than out in a sweaty club. Luckily, there was a bit of a crisp wind, so the sweat on your body would soon disappear.

He lead you to his place, telling you about himself on the way. His name was Harry, and he was originally from England. He gave a little information about his family and where he was from. You also gave your name and told a bit about your life. It was nice knowing a bit about him before you two were about to fuck, but you were also glad that you didn’t know him that well.

Upon arriving at Harry’s place, you were excited. He fumbled with his keys a bit before opening the door and letting you in. You were impressed. He clearly had money, but that thought left your mind when he closed the door behind him and lead you to the bedroom.

The minute you entered his room, you were kissing him. His lips were soft. His hand gripped your neck and you wrapped yourself around him. He laid you back on the bed and started unbuttoning his pants. You sat up and helped unbutton his shirt. He slid his pants and underwear down his thighs, his cock springing up.

In seconds, you grabbed him with your hands and wrapped your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks. He moaned and cleared the hair from your face. You slowly went up and down, making sure what you couldn’t get in your mouth was covered by your hands.

Within about two minutes, he was sighing your name and holding onto your head with his right hand. His head was back, showing off his amazing jawline and neck. He didn’t want to come yet, though. You leaned back once again and pulled off your pants as Harry undressed himself as well. He yanked off your shirt, his mouth immediately connecting to your breast.

You arched your back and groaned. His tongue swirled around your nipple a few times before he sucked a bit more. He would move from one breast to the other, pleasuring you all the while. Eventually, he brought his head up, and his lips attached to yours. One hand played with his hair while the other lightly scratched down his back.

He positioned his arm just right where he could reach down further. You felt his middle finger start to play with your clit. Once in a while his fingers dipped down into your folds, making you moan in great pleasure.

“You’re so wet for me, love,” Harry smirked.

“Fuck,” you breathed as Harry slowly pushed in a single finger. He pumped a few times, testing you and making sure you were alright with his actions.

It was amazing. He knew was he was doing, that was for sure. His fingers were inside you while his thumb rubbed your clit at the same pace that he pumped his fingers. He would twirl his wrist at certain angles that affected what his fingers were doing, causing you to call out his name.

His pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them up and placing them in his mouth, sucking on them.

“You taste amazing, pet. I’d love to have more of you,” he says as he dips his head below your waist.

You barely had the chance to look down before you felt his tongue on your clit. He sucked hard, causing you to lose your breath. His tongue would sink lower and explore everything.

“Oh, Harry,” you gasped as he entered a finger into you. The mixture of his tongue and finger made you grasp his head with your hands. Your fingers were tightly wrapped in his hair, lightly pulling. He reached up with his free hand and palmed your breast, giving it a slight squeeze. It wasn’t long at all before you felt your high coming. You gave Harry a warning only a few seconds before you gasped loudly. Your back arched and Harry removed his hand from your boob to keep your thigh from squeezing his head.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, finally letting go of your breath that you had been holding. You panted loudly, watching lazily as Harry wiped his mouth and licked his finger clean. You scooted back on the bed, making more room for Harry.

“Wait,” you quickly said. You searched for your purse on the floor. After you eyes found it, you stood and walked over to it, rummaging through it. Once you found what you were looking for, you strolled back to Harry’s bed, handing him the small package.

“Good thinkin’,” he smiled at you. He quickly opened the condom wrapping and wrapped himself up, allowing you time to position yourself on the bed again.

Harry placed himself at your entrance, giving you one last look to make sure you were alright. You nodded, spreading your legs a bit more. He teased you a bit more, running his cock up and down against your wetness. You groaned, thankful for the moment when he finally pushed himself inside.

You moaned Harry’s name a few times. He had a bit more girth than most guys, but you were completely fine with that. Harry panted as he thrust himself into you. He admired the way your boobs bounced in rhythm with his thrusts. He placed his mouth over your nipple, sucking on it as you scratched your nails down his back.

It wasn’t long at all until you felt your second orgasm of the night. You came without even warning Harry because it seemed like it was so sudden. Your hips bucked up, grinding against Harry’s. You gripped his arm, breathless. He lifted his head and kissed you a couple of times, his lips still smooth as ever. You were just coming down from your high when Harry’s thrusts were becoming sloppier. He sped up his pace before he moaned loudly, calling your name a few times.

He pulled himself out and lay beside you. You were just starting to return to normal breathing while Harry was still panting. A few minutes passed before you glanced over at Harry, smiling.

“That was amazing,” you complimented.

“Yeah, you were great,” he responded, sitting up. He claimed he was going to clean himself up, which you agreed you were going to do.

You walked into the bathroom, bringing along your underwear. You quickly used the bathroom and wiped, pulling on your underwear and flushing the toilet.

“You have a specific side you sleep on?” you asked, walking over to the bed.

“I prefer left, but take whichever side you’re comfortable with. Also, do you need a shirt?”

You thought about it, but eventually nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”

After receiving an over-sized shirt from Harry, you pulled the covers over yourself. He was quick to join you, resting a hand on your waist. You both eventually fell asleep facing each other.

anonymous asked:

Writing prompt idea: Hero body swaps Black Hat and Flug with their power. Thinks it'll neutralise Black Hat Threat, but Unleashes pent up Scientist. Bonus points if you manage to work in Paperhat.

It wasn’t every day a hero managed to burst their way through a wall and into Black Hat mansion. It was every other day at the most, thank you very much.

And when they did just so happen to get in, Black Hat normally made swift work of them- normally. Today wasn’t normal.

“TODAY’S THE DAY, BLACK HAT!” The hero declared. Flug didn’t know this one, either it was a newbie way over his head or someone who kept out of the public eye. Either way, he’d gone hard on that cliché magician theme. Cape, hat, wand, everything.

Flug wondered if he could possibly use magic themed attacks.

The scientist had scrambled behind the command console he used to test out inventions like the medusa device the moment the magician had blown a hole through the lab ceiling with a sparkly, white light attack. Considering the lab was under the mansion, he wasn’t surprised when Black Hat followed suit a moment later.

“Shut up.” was Black Hat’s elegant comeback. Flug couldn’t quite see him from his own hiding spot, but he was fairly certain he saw Black hat quite literally brush off an attack the magician sent his way. “You think you’re the first hero foolish enough to attack me in my own home?”

The hero shrugged off the dismissal, smiling brightly as he twirled his wand in the air above his hand, creating a little ball of energy.

“I came prepared.” the hero bragged, before suddenly pointing the wand at Flug. The scientist yelped, scrambling back to hide behind his cover-

His knees hit the ground, gloved hands shooting out in front of him to prevent him from face planting on the ground. His brain was so busy trying to catch up with when he’d stood in the first place he almost didn’t realize that his gloves weren’t their usual yellow anymore.

“You see Black Hat?” the hero asked, looking at the same console Flug had just been behind. “I’d been hoping to find that bear, but this works too. How does it feel to be mortal?” he asked, taking a step towards Flug’s former hiding place.

And then Flug watched his own body stand up, a yellow gloved hand moving to a bag covered head as he slumped over the consol. Despite the goggles, Flug could see he eyes droop, acting as though all his energy was gone- or he was used to having so much more.

Flug blinked, before slowly dropping his eyes back down to his gloved hands-The charcoal fabric was soft, much shorter than his own, and were swiftly cut off just above the line where his coat sleeves started. His black coat sleeves. He hooked a finger under one of his gloves, allowing him to fully take in the dark skin. The unnatural way his fingers morphed right into claws.

He ran his tongue along his teeth, feeling the sharp edges of his fangs. For some reason, he felt pressured to reach up and feel above his head, when his bosses namesake now sat.

“Face it Black Hat- the heroes always win in the end.” the hero bragged, twirling his wand between his fingers as he approached the weakened demon. “Perhaps you should have thought twice before hiring someone as-”

Whatever the magician was about to say about him, Flug didn’t hear. Likely because Flug flung him across the room, blood now dripping from his newly ungloved claws.

The hero twisted around, firing a blast of light at Flug and tore off a good third of Flug’s torso, sending him crashing to one knee. It stung, but not like it should have. He could feel his body ripple just under the skin, teeth and claws reknitting his side back together.

“Okay, so little kitten has claws, but do you really think an inexperienced shifter like yourself could ever defeat me in the art of-” okay, Flug didn’t care.

“SHUT! UP!” Flug yelled at the hero, the anger in his voice surprising even him. His left arm broke apart, forming an entanglement of flesh that resembled a large tentacle that Flug used to smack the hero, wrapping around him and smashing him between the ceiling and the floor. The surfaces both cracked under the pressure.

Flug dropped him mid air, not even giving him time to fall before his was stabbing the man through with newly formed talons, stabbing him again and again and again. He yanked the limb out, shifting it back into an arm before grabbing him with his claws, yanking and ripping the man to shreds.

Flug laughed- this was a high unlike any he’d ever felt, the rush of emotions and power overwhelming-

And then he crashed back into his own body, the heroes spell broken with his death. Flug crashed to the floor once more, this time unable to stop himself from face planting. He struggled to push himself back up to his feet, his body so heavy under him.

He raised his eyes to where he boss stodd, brushing bits of the hero off him. Black Hat caught his gaze and smiled, those razor sharp teeth shining through.

“Impressive work, Flug.” Black Hat praised. “But perhaps we can find other ways to let you work out those anger issues.”

anonymous asked:

“it’s just a cut, really.” MC x Jumin :3333

Title: Shadow

Fandom: Mystic Messenger
Genre: Romance/Angst
Characters|Pairing: Jumin Han x MC/Reader/You

Disclaimer: tw for mentions of blood. This post is also word heavy.

1. | [ you’re currently reading Shadow’s Part 2. ]

a|n❗️ henloo! so i did another … thing. no further warnings apply! since everyone really asked me to do a continuation, here it is lolol. *side eyes everyone inside my askbox* and this is my 8th prompt entry! enjoy!

I thought heaven can't help me now
Nothing lasts forever
But this is gonna take me down
He's so tall, and handsome as hell
He's so bad but he does it so well
I can see the end as it begins

What are you doing? Really, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve asked yourself that. You’ve lost count of how many times you tried to smile and pretend as if everything is fine. You’ve lost count of the nights that your tears dripped sore, as if getting tired was never an option. You’ve asked yourself, why? Why are you still here? Why are you still trying to suppress everything and stay? You fool, is what you would’ve said.

And indeed, it is true. You’re truly a very foolish, foolish girl.

Love has caught you inside its cage, sending your heart in a maddening craze. And you felt trapped in a scheme you didn’t want to play. Forced, out of circumstances, to continue a plot that should have ended a long time ago. A love story that should have been buried the same time it barely even began.

Where has the woman who knew when and where she should put a line in between gone into? Where is the woman who knew her rightful place? Did you lose her along the way? Did love make you lose yourself in the process?

Truly, love played its cards against you and you don’t have the winning hand in your own deck to win the game.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

If Lotor were to learn that Keith is a hybrid, do you think he'll try to persuade Keith into joining him? Of course it won't work but I can't but feel that at some point Lotor is going to play mind games with Keith (or Lance because he's insecure) in order to tear team Voltron apart.

I mean, I know it’s certainly a popular fandom idea that Lotor’s going to try and lure someone away from Voltron, but…

Keep reading


This is a one shot/ vignette for my This Ends Tonight story.

I can’t write this as a complete and linear story. I have been writing a lot of pieces for this in the form of vignettes or snapshots. Every one takes place with Ivar and his wife in bed at the end of a given day, recounting something that happened between them on whichever given day, It is all completely out of order but it is just what feels best for this story.

Warnings: language 

 Let me tell you a story about a story that I got more than halfway written and then lost and then rewrote then lost again all in the same day because of this stupid tablet and then obsessed over for like 12 hours. I could not find the end so I shall just end it for my own sanity. I don’t know why this was so hard. I must purge it. 

Aisling sat perched at the end of the make shift bed. Eyes heavy with lust, she watched as her husband stripped off his gore soaked armor. Though wounded and covered in a mixture of dirt, sweat, and the blood of his enemies, she couldn’t help but think that he had never looked so beautiful.

Ivar winced as he pulled the blood stained tunic up and over his head. The sparse candlelight reflected off the canvas walls of the tent, casting a warm glow over his bruised skin. Admiring the rippling of muscle in his chest and arms, she smiled and hummed a sound of approval. Smirking, he lifting his head from the wash basin and caught his wife’s hungry appraisal.

“You’re staring again, wife"

“Aye, but I cannot help it.” she mewled in response. Reclining back on her elbows, she bit her lip and unabashedly let her eyes roam up and down his body.

Studying her face and noticing how glassy her eyes were, Ivar cocked a brow in question.“Are you drunk, woman?”

“Hmmm…Maybe a little.” she giggled.

Ivar tutted and gave his wife a look of mock disapproval before balling up his discarded tunic and playfully flinging it at her. He had aimed for her face, but his aim was too high. Despite being thoroughly buzzed from the mead, Aisling’s arm shot up and caught it effortlessly. Pressing it to her nose, she inhaled deeply and clutched the blood stained clothing to her chest as if it were a precious gift, smiling like a fool.“Seeing you out there on the battlefield today. I wanted to touch myself right there on that hill in front of the Gods and everybody. I am sure that those Saxons would have enjoyed having such a site be their last before being sent to meet their God. Don’t you think so?”

Ivar rolled his eyes, “You’re ridiculous, wife, and you’re also a terrible liar, you know that?

“And you are beautiful, husband. You looked like a God out there today. I would have let you take me right there in the mud like an animal, surrounded by all those dying men. Why don’t you forget about washing and just come over here and fuck me already?”

Ivar shook his head and gave his wife a stern look. Dipping a cloth into the scented water and using the surface reflection, he thoughtfully gazed into the bowl and scrubbed at the blood smeared on his face and neck.  The flickering light and shadows being cast in the tent were not enough to mask the blush that had arisen in his cheeks. Rolling onto her stomach, Aisling whimpered and rolled her hips into the mattress suggestively.

“Stop that.” 

“But I need you and I need you right now, husband.” 

“Odin, just how much did you have to drink today woman?” he scoffed.

Narrowing her eyes, she rolled the garment up and sent it sailing across the tent. Her aim was as good as her reflexes, and it landed with a splash right in the steaming bowl on her husband’s lap.The water sloshed over the sides, soaking into the fabric of his breeches and spilling onto the dirt floor. The burning sensation caused him to clench his teeth and hiss in pain. Pushing his tongue into his cheek, he just stared at the mess in front of himself, shaking his head and laughing dryly. He felt his blood beginning to rise and cut his eyes at his wife, but upon seeing her face, his irritation quickly melted away.

She sat with her knees to her chest, both hands clapped over her mouth. The dying light in the tent also doing nothing to cover the flush now arisen in her cheeks as she tried to muffle her giddy laughter.


His dear sweet wife. Whenever Ivar was having a bad day or was in one of his moods, she so often was able to bring a smile to his lips. On the days when the stress and pain tried to get the better of him, she would refuse to let him sit around drinking and brooding. Doing whatever she could to lighten his mood and coax the laughter from him. It was one of the many reasons he had allowed her to accompany him on this journey. Aside from the fact that he couldn’t bare another long summer without her, she was his anchor. When the demons he harbored inside threatened to consume him and he felt himself growing too weak to resist them anymore, the strong hold she held on his heart would keep them at bay. The love she had for him kept him just on the right side of sanity.

His queen would like to have people believe that she was every bit as cruel as he, that she hated the Christians, that she was viking. But he knew her better than that. She was a Dane, sure, but his wife was no viking. She was inherently good and kind. She was everything he was not and he didn’t mind her light balancing out his darkness. He loved her for it and it was why their marriage worked. He knew she had had her fill of war and death long before they came together. He saw it in her eyes when he had asked her to come, she had wanted to say no but agreed anyways. She knew that he needed her and hadn’t wanted to disappoint him. He saw right through the strong front she presented. His wife found no beauty or enjoyment in watching people get slaughtered. All that morning leading up to the battle, she had sat on a log with a far away look in her eye. If he hadn’t been otherwise preoccupied, he might have noticed the cup never leaving her hands.


Looking at her husband’s perturbed face, Aisling couldn’t help it and fell over onto her side, erupting in laughter.

Ivar made sure to keep his face hard set as he set the bowl aside and slid from the wooden stool to the wet ground. Forgoing his crutches, he slowly crawled towards the bed, his eyes locked on her like a magnet. When he finally reached the bed and grabbed a hold of the mattress to pull himself up, she laughed and moved to roll away, but his hand shot out and took hold of her ankle. Aisling squealed and he tightened his grip, smiling up at her wickedly. “You think that was funny? Hmm?“

“Yes, a little.” She giggled, kicking and pulling her leg, trying to free herself from his hold.She was stronger than she looked and wrestling with her, he felt himself tiring fast. His body was weak and his muscles were sore from battle. Having become so dependent on his crutches, he wasn’t entirely sure he could even pull himself onto the bed from this position. “Woman, stop kicking and help me up or so help me I will drag your ass right down here to the ground with me.”

“Ooh, don’t threaten me with a good time.” Moving closer, she took his face in her hands and pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips before pulling back and giggling like an idiot, kicking and resuming her struggle with a renewed energy.

Giving up, he released her ankle and sighed, pressing his forehead against the mattress.“Aisling, please.”

“Oh, begging becomes you quite nicely, husband.“ she teased, leaning forward and stroking her fingers through his hair. Having taken the plaits out, it was tangled and matted with dried blood and dirt. She picked a clump of something that she hoped was mud but could possibly be tissue out of his hair and flicked it aside, curling her lip in disgust.“You know what, on second thought maybe you should finish washing.”

“Aisling.” he warned.

“Ivar.” she echoed.

“You’re a terrible wife.”

“I am not. I am a wonderful wife and you love me.” She smiled and continued raking her fingers through his hair. Ivar closed his eyes and leaned into her caress. She brushed his hair back behind his ears and tracing over the scar on this cheek with her fingertip.“I was so scared today, I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” Taking her hand, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles.“Oh, I’m sure you would mourn for the requisite amount of time before taking Hvitserk as your bed slave.” he smirked, his eyes bright with amusement.“Hmm, I think I quite like that idea.” she beamed, “I mean, who else would do a better job at consoling me than our dear Hvitserk?” 

”That isn’t funny, wife.” 

“You don’t think so?” 

“Not at all.” 

“Why wait for tragedy to strike, didn’t Ubbe once share a wife wife with dear Hvitserk?”

“Can you stop calling him ‘dear Hvitserk’?”

“Why are you jealous?”


@synnersaint @ivars-heathen @burningsunshin3 @belle-scarre@rachiieee@nothingbuthappydays @badbitsh13@persephone-is-here-omg @sebastian-stans-thighs @siren-kitten-his@imaginesparadise@tiyetiye@theheathenqueendickubus@brightlycoloredteacups@dangerousvikings @bethy-sue@lunarbear93 @maskedpenman


Hey friends. I wrote another Anti thing. I hope you like it :)

(I’m just goona low key tag a few people here: @ego-protection-squad @chase-brody-protection-squad @magic-marvin-protection-patrol @jackieboy-man-support-squad @jacks-support-group @therealjacksepticeye @therealantijacksepticeye and @cyndaquil17 cause I really like that you liked the other one enough to send me an ask <3)

This one is dark like the other one. I think have some tissues set aside. You may need ‘em?

Keep reading

A Late Night Chat: a Ghoul!Jack au oneshot

              Sean struggled against the bonds that kept him strapped to the operating table. He had to get out of here! He knew what they were going to do, they had done it many times before. It couldn’t happen again, it couldn’t! He couldn’t handle it, the pain always got worse, increasing each time they did it. It felt like his sanity was hanging on by only a thread, and if they succeeded in doing their ‘tests’ again, he believed he would lose it completely. Unfortunately, in his malnourished state, there was no way he was strong enough to break through the straps.
  Several people in scrubs came into the room, one wheeling in a tray covered in syringes filled with various liquids. His blue eyes widened at the sight, the once bright orbs now dull from the horrors he’d experienced. No, nonono no! His struggles increased, causing several of the people to come over and hold him down, keeping him still. A man pulled a syringe filled with a purplish grey liquid off of the tray, walking over to Jack. He tried to struggle again but the other people kept a firm grip on him.

                    He winced as he felt the needle of the syringe slide into his arm. A strangled scream tore it’s way out of him as the odd liquid entered his veins, feeling like molten lava was flowing through his body. Something in him finally snapped and he blacked out. When he came to again he was standing on a grassy hill, the old prison where he had been kept standing behind him. He blinked in confusion before he noticed the feeling of something wet and sticky all over him. He glanced down and cried out in surprise and fear.

                   Blood and bits of flesh was splattered all over him. He could feel some on his mouth and in his teeth. He stared at his shaking, blood stained hands, memories of what had happened flooding in. All those people, he had torn them apart, even going so far as to eat a few. Tears pricked his eyes and his stomach rolled at the thought. He just barely kept himself from puking. Another part of him relished the memories, and he recoiled from that part, disgusted with himself. He had seen enough anime to know what he was now. A ghoul. His head snapped up when he heard a odd sound and turned to see a child staring at him with wide, fearful eyes. He felt the thing he had turned into earlier stir again, and couldn’t stop the wicked grin his lips curled into. A terrified scream was heard as he lunged for the child.

                     J woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. Another nightmare. Thank god it was just that, though at this point, he no longer had any hope of a god existing. At least not a merciful one. “Jack? You okay? You were crying out in your sleep,” A voice said. J sighed, turning his head to face Chase, who was standing in his doorway. “I’m fine Chase, just a nightmare. And I keep telling you, call me J. The Jack you knew is long gone,” He said, voice soft. He sounded so tired of the world, much older then a 27 year old should sound. 

                      He brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. The once green hair had turned an ashen color with a slight purple tint at some point during the time he was held prisoner. He didn’t know why, it just did. “Sorry. I’m just not used to calling you that yet. Do you want to talk about your nightmare?” Chase asked, coming closer. J shook his head. “Not much to talk about. All my nightmares are roughly the same, only a few differences here and there. But they always end the same way, with me killing someone. Someone who doesn’t deserve to die,” He said, his voice going soft towards the end.

                      “J, you know you’d never do that, right? Your ghoul half may act kinda wild, but it’s still you and has shown no intention of hurting innocent people. I mean, you have your moments when your PTSD gets bad, but we’re always able to calm you down,” Chase said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “But what if one day you can’t? Or if you don’t get to me soon enough. You guys can’t watch me all the time. I just don’t want to become more of a monster then I already am,” J replied, unable to look Chase in the eyes.

                       "You’re not a monster J. A monster wouldn’t worry about potentially harming the innocent,“ A new voice spoke up. J glanced at the doorway. “How long have you been listening Marvin?” He asked. “Long enough,” Yet another voice said. “You too Anti? Let me guess, Shneep and Jackaboy are in the hallway too.” “Nope. Henrik is in his lab working on that cure he’s been trying to make and Jackaboy Man is trying to convince him to get some rest,” Marvin said.  "That man works so hard. He really thinks he can find a way to make you human again,“ Anti added, leaning against the doorframe. 

                        J sighed. “Even if he does, I still won’t be the old Jack. Those people broke me,” He muttered. “It may feel like that now but, time mends all things. You’ll never be the old you completely but, given time to heal, you can get close,” Chase said, putting a comforting hand on J’s shoulder. “And even if you don’t, we still care about you. You’re our friend,” Marvin added.
                             “That, and we owe our existence to you and your fans, so we can’t exactly just abandon you,” Anti said. Marvin shot him a glare. “What? It’s true. You can’t pretend that that doesn’t have a factor in this.” “That doesn’t mean we have to blatantly point it out. You can be way too callous Anti,” Marvin said, annoyed. “Uh, hello? Dark side of J? Ring any bells? Of course I’m not going to be delicate with things.” “If you two are going to bicker you can leave you know,” Chase said, glaring at both of them. “Since when were you the mature the one?” Anti asked. “You forget that I’m a dad. I know how to be mature when I have to.”

                         "Not to be rude but, I want to go back to sleep now. Would guys mind leaving?“ J spoke up. “Heh, sorry. We’ll be going now. Come one you two,” Chase said getting up and dragging Marvin and Anti out by the ears, clearly still in Dad mode. “Ow ow ow ow,” Marvin and Anti said in unison as they were dragged out. J chuckled a little under his breath. The whole lot of em were a bunch of goofballs. But they were his goofballs. And he was glad to have them here for him during this craziness. He layed down and drifted back to sleep, a soft smile on his face.

(( Remember this?: well this is a little oneshot for that au. @magic-marvin-protection-patrol @chase-brody-protection-squad ))

Suga to Jin: 

“ To Jinjinjara/Seok-jin!! It’s your eternal roommate, Suga. I can’t believe it’s been 7 years since we’ve known each other. Remember when I first met you? You seemed so well-behaved and kind and you seem so bright and cheerful these days, which amazes me. I believe that being together with us has brought about that change? It seems like yesterday when you were concerned and not confident on stage but when I see you on stage these days, I realize how well you sing. It’s the result of your hard effort for a long period of time. I’ve watched you for a long time. It was touching to see you try to do better at something that you weren’t good at. I felt that I had a lot to learn from you. Let’s be together for a long time. P.S: But I wish you’d act your age”.

Jin to Jungkook: 

“ To Jk, Hi, JK. It’s me. I’m always appreciative of what you do. Thank you for having the same mental age as I do, when I am 26 years old. While traveling with you, I was reminded once again of how strong your punches are. I’ll do better, so please don’t hit me. I think your face got a lot darker during this trip. As the older guy, I’ll give you a facial mask when we go back to Korea. Soothe your skin with it, and also soothe yourself and stop lying on my bed. You keep lying on my bed and taking selfies. You may have gotten a tan in Hawaii, but I will throw you into a fire pit in Korea. Of course, that fire pit is my heart.  Come and be embraced in my big heart. Thank you for being the teacher and the energy of the team. Jungkook, you are nice, good looking, strong, have a  good body, have big eyes, sings and dances well. I love you”.

Jungkook to Rap Monster: 

“To Namjoon, Hey. This is the youngest of the team, Jungkook. I’m not good at writing letters so I don’t know where to start, but here I go. This is something that I always think about. I often get inspired, by the team. Although I’m inspired by all the members, I’m especially inspired by you. I have a lot of things that I wanna do but I never seem to stick to them for long. You guys always joke about that. But when that pattern was repeated, I felt that I have really become that kind of person. Whenever I see you working, talking about or working on music or speaking English, I develop this sense of confidence and passion. I know that things may be tough for you too, but please continue showing those things for me. I’ll keep following you from behind. You’re really an amazing person”.

Taehyung to Jimin: 

“To Jimin. Jimin, hi.  Writing you this sincere letter is making me cringe, but I’m trying to go on. Please understand. Since our trainee days, we came to Seoul without a clue.  We woke up, put on uniforms and attended the same school. We ate together, went to practice together, went to practice and got back to the dorm. Then we’d talk all night. After such 6 years, you’re now my dearest friend. Before our debut, you once got anxious about it. At that time, I had a company meeting. they asked me what I’d think if Jimin is on the team. I thought it over and said that you’re there when I’m up or down, the only one who laughed and cried with me. I said that I’d like such a good friend to debut with me as a team. It felt good to say that. And I’m glad that I was able to debut with you. All our good memories made me happy. And I’m sorry since I’m always on the receiving end. When I’m in the bathroom to cry, you still cry with me. And you come see me at dawn to laugh alongside me. You care about me and have me in your thoughts. You work hard for me and understand. You listen to my concerns and like me though I’m lacking. Let’s walk a road of happiness. Love you, buddy.

Rap Monster to Tae-Hyung: 

“Taehyung, my first letter goes to you. That gives me a mix of feelings. Like the peddles we’ve seen to our heart’s content in Hawaii, it’s hard to pick out what I want to say to you. like the open sea we’ve enjoyed, it may be because we go far back with many memories we share. I remember when I first met you. When you came with your father to our dorm with big eyes, busy legs, and your puckered lips, I knew at once.That you'be a rascal. I also remember how you were anxious before our debut. Your unique character and strangeness got me puzzled at times. so I wondered what aspect of yours helped you to bear everything at times. But as time went by and my hair started to grow out, I realized that even me, who I thought was the norm, is also a strange puzzling guy. And I was drawn by your uniqueness. And I was envious at times because you easily befriend people and everyone likes you. You have shown everyone that your strangeness is actually your unique charm. You might say this makes you cringe, but since you started out as a trainee, I want to say I’m grateful to you as a friend and older member.  Thanks for not being a farmer or playing the saxophone and coming to us to complete BTS. Let’s keep up the good work. Hand in there!”.

Jhope to Suga: 

“To my bro Suga from Jhope, Hey. It’s Hoseok. We’ve been together for 7  years, including our trainee days. When I was first at the dorm, I felt so awkward and shy. So I remained in the living room. Then you came over to talk and made me relax. I still can’t forget that moment. Coming from Gwangju, you were like my savior.  When I was sick or sad, you were always there for me. When I was tired and had it hard; you were there to give me strength. When I got seasick on Bon Voyage 2 and opened my eyes from sleep, the first person I saw was you. Though Jimin was also there. I didn’t say it then, but I really appreciate your help. As much as we’ve spent time together, I’m that much grateful to you. I’d like to say that with this letter at this time. Thanks for becoming a member of BTS. And thanks for being my big brother. I hope you’re always by my side. I love my bro!“.

Jimin to Jhope:

 “To Hoseok. I thought it would be easy because it’s not the first letter to you. But it’s not. I am nervous. Because we talk together a lot and I talk about my feelings to you, I guess you know well what I think or what I want to say. When I look at you, I have this thought: ‘He is really honest and faithful. He is a good and nice one”. I thought like this: “A person can be cool because he is honest and faithful”. I realized it thanks to you.  As a younger brother and a member of the same team, I learn a lot from you. You always take good care of us. you pay attention to us and work hard. I know. I want to say thank you, with all my heart. Thank you, brother! I hope you take care of yourself and stop worrying about us. My dear brother, whom I always am thankful, love you.“

By @mimibtsghost

Bon Voyage S2 Ep.8 - BTS’ letters to each other


“To. Jinjinjara, Seokjin-hyung!!

It’s your forever roommate, Suga.

Can you believe I have known you for 7 years… I remember when I met you for the first time. I’m surprised and amazed that the one who used to look so upright and kind… has become very bright and cheerful these days. I believe it’s because you’re with us. It seems like just yesterday you were nervous and not confident when you had to sing and perform on stage, but seeing your performance these days makes me think you sing really well. It’s no doubt the result of working hard for a long time. Even though I have been watching you for a long time, it still touched me how you secretly work hard to make up what you lack in. I thought of you as a hyung whom I have a lot to learn from. Let’s keep going together for a long time in the future too.

P.S: But I hope you can act your age.”


“To. JK

Hi JK, it’s hyung.

I’m always thankful to you. Thanks for having the same mental age as this 26-year-old hyung. And traveling with you this time made me feel this once again. Your fists are really strong. I will be good to you, don’t hit me, got it? And your face got tanned a lot. As I’m your hyung I’ll give you facial masks when we get back to Korea. Calm your skin and yourself as well, stop lying on my bed. You keep lying on my bed when I’m not there and send me your selfies. If you do that one more time, your face may have got tanned in Hawaii, but I’ll throw you into the fire pit in Korea. And by “fire pit” I mean my firey heart. You can come into my big embrace. Thanks for always becoming our team’s teacher and energizer. To Jungkook who’s kind and handsome and strong and has nice body and big eyes and sings well and dances well, I love you.”


“To. Namjoonie-hyung

Hi hyung, it’s our team’s maknae, Jungkook.

I’m not the type to write letters often so I don’t know where to start, but I’ll try this time. This is something I always think about every day, but I really am inspired a lot by our team. Although I’m inspired by all 7 members, but I’m especially inspired the most by you. I always want to do a lot of things but can’t stick to them long, like how you guys always joke with me. But gradually, it feels like I really became that kind of person. When you work, talk about music, compose or speak in English, I feel like I grew a sense of confidence and passion. I know it must be tired for you, but please keep showing me your that cool side of yours in the future. I will keep following you from behind. You are a really awesome person.”


“To Jimin.

Hi Jimin.

It cringes me a little to write a serious letter to you like this, but I’ll try. Hope you understand. When we were trainees, we came to Seoul without knowing anything. We would wake up, put on uniforms, go to school together, eating together after school ends, go to the practice room together, go back to the dorm together, and chat together at night. 6 years passed and unknowingly, you have become my dearest precious friend. There was a time before we debuted when you were anxious because of the debut. I had a meeting with the company at that time. They asked me “What would it be if Jimin was on the team?”. After thinking for a while, I said, “There’s no one who’s by my side when I’m tired or happy to laugh and cry with me but Jimin. I hope such a friend could be by my side. I want us to debut together.” It felt good to say that. I’m happy that we was able debut together and make lots of good memories. And sorry, because I’m always the one who take. Even know, you still cry with me when I cry in the bathroom, laugh with me when we sneak out at dawn, care about me and think of me, work hard because of me and understand me, listen to my worries, liking someone who’s lacking so much like me. Let’s keep walking together on the flower path for a long time. I love you, my friend.”



So my first letter is to you. I have mixed emotions. Like the pebbles on the beach we saw in Hawaii, it’s hard to pick out what I want to say to you. Maybe it’s because we’re cherishing so many memories and so many moments like the sea we saw? I thought of the time when I first met you. Seeing you following your father, roaming around the dorm with big eyes and pouty lips, I already felt it from first sight. “This kid will be a rascal”. I remember how anxious you were before we debuted. Your unique and strange character is so vague that I sometimes questioned what’s in you that helped you endure all the way here. But as time passes and I mature more, I learned that even I, who I myself thought was the most normal, am quite strange and unique like an alien. I was drawn by your strangeness. Sometimes I really envy you. Because you can get close easily to anyone and everyone likes you. Your strangeness proved to be your unique charm. It may sound cringeworthy, but as a friend, a hyung who have been with you from the beginning of your trainee journey to now, I wanted to say thank you to you. Thank you for not becoming a farmer, not playing saxophone and came to Big Hit instead. Let’s keep up the good work. Fighting.”


“To. My bro Suga
From. J-hope

Hi hyung? It’s Hoseok.

Without realizing, we have been together for 7 years, including our trainee days. When I first moved to the dorm, I was awkward and unfamiliar with everything, so I only stayed in the living room, but you came and talk to me first, helped me relax. I still can’t forget that time. You were like the savior to me, a Gwangju kid. Always by my side when I’m hurt, always by my side when I’m sad. You’re always there to support me and become my strength when I’m tired or exhausted. When I was tired from seasickness in Bon Voyage 2 this time, the first one I saw after opening my eyes was you. I couldn’t say then but I was really grateful to you. Through this letter and this chance, I want to tell you again that my gratitude to you is as great as the time we spent together. Hyung, thank you for becoming a member of BTS, thank you for becoming my dependable brother. Please keep staying by my side forever. I love my bro.”


“To. Hoseokie-hyung

This wasn’t my first letter to you so I thought it wouldn’t be hard, but it was indeed not easy. I’m nervous. You’re the one whom I talk and share a lot with so think you’ll know well what I think and what I want to say. What do I think when I see you? “This person is really truthful and sincere”, “This person is really upright and kind”. You are probably the first one that made me understand a person can become this cool just by being truthful and sincere. As your brother and fellow member, I have a lot to learn from you. I wanted to tell you that I know you are always working hard to take care of us and I’m always sincerely thankful to you. Thank you, hyung. I hope you can take care of your body and stop worrying too much. To my hyung who I’m always thankful for, I love you.”