its a submission

  • Keith: I am having, this is crazy, I’m having feelings again. Like some kind of 14-year-old kid or something. I mean, you remember feelings, right?
  • Lance: …Yeah. I have feelings every single day of my life.
  • Keith: Do you?
  • Lance: Are you saying you don’t have feelings??
The Tunnels

(Based on something that actually exists at my old school.)

The Tunnels (1/?)

The Tunnels were built back during the height of the Cold War. They wound beneath a good portion of campus and the football field. Most of the entrances had been blocked off, due to “safety concerns”. The majority of students assumed that meant the Tunnels were not kept up and in danger of collapse.

But Cor had iron in both ears (to keep the whispers from overwhelming), and on her fingers (to keep her writing her own), and a small stud through her tongue (to allow her to speak the truth). Going into journalism, she always knew how perilous it could be. She simply assumed it would get bad once she went overseas to war zones, not while she worked on her major. (Nothing can prepare you for Them trying to distort your stories.)

She considered Them to be the greatest of contradictions. They had to live in truths, lies were against Their very nature, and They reveled in forcing humans to live by the same, and yet They hated that requirement of Their existence. They would twist and turn words, use them like weapons or spiderwebs, keep them just this side of truth while being utter falsehoods, everything the wrong way round. And the journalism majors… well, They would prefer the “speakers of truth” told it from a bent perspective.

That was not to say that Cor, or any of those who shared her major, were able to write completely unbiased. But Cor tried.

(It was why she had picked her second name. Cordelia, daughter of King Lear. When the king had been intent on dividing his kingdom, he had asked his daughters to prove who loved him best. Her sisters had flattered and lied and exaggerated, while Cordelia had spoken only the simple truth: “I love your majesty according to my bond; nor more nor less… You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I return those duties back as are right fit, obey you, love you, and most honor you.” If Cor had remembered the consequences of that, instead of merely taking pride in the princess’ honesty, perhaps things would have been different. Then again, perhaps not.)

And the Tunnels were fascinating.

The truth (because it is important) is that she did not plan to go. (You may not know exactly what there is Underhill, but you can guess. The quiet stories about the chemistry department stealing back a professor give everyone who hears them goosebumps. You do not go Underhill without a clear purpose, or at all if possible.)

It was another member of the department. A freshman (Isn’t it always?) who had heard enough about the Tunnels to be curious, but not to be cautious. He was 18 years of age, and he went by the name Youngest. (The last kid in his family, he explained once. What Cor would find out later was that that also made him the fifth son of a fifth son, stretching back five generations. If she’d known then, she would have refused to go. He may have been born for quests and breaking curses, but she wasn’t.)

He had been trying to study up on the history of the Tunnels and found the records in the campus library archives lacking. The Tunnels had been mentioned in the university paper when they were being voted on, and when they announced the construction start date.  There were no blueprints and no financial records. There were no minutes from the council meeting that decided to go forward with the building plans. There was no list of provisions to be kept in the tunnels, nor even a list of where to enter them.

And Youngest wouldn’t accept that. Cor wasn’t the first to try to talk him out of his obsession. (It didn’t help that he was a low-key conspiracy theorist. And not in a useful, fairy tales and old stories way. No, he was all about secret government bunkers and drugs in the water supply and money being stolen from institutions like Elsewhere U for illegal testing facilities.) He refused to listen. He started asking indelicate questions of the librarians and the campus administration, and he apparently had enough luck on his side to keep him from asking just the wrong person.

In the end, the big break came from a boy he was dating, a theatre major. Prior had been drunk, the two had gone back to Youngest’s room for the night, planning to fall into bed after a party and sleep off the booze. Youngest had brought it up, and Prior muttered something about an entrance in one of the costume closets at the main theatre on campus. When he woke up the next morning and realized what he’d said, he tried to take it back, to convince Youngest that he had been drunk and didn’t know what he was saying.

Youngest didn’t listen.

Youngest grabbed his phone for video and audio, and a pen and notepad in case something happened to his phone, and a flashlight and a bottle of water. He kissed Prior, was effusive in his thanks, and then walked away.

Prior panicked and called Cor.

And Cor, she was so damn tempted to let the stupid, oblivious moron just go. Unfortunately, her conscience was apparently stronger than her sense of self preservation.

She caught Youngest as he was putting aside a pair of bolt cutters he’d grabbed from a props room, and yanking off the old iron padlock holding the small door shut. He pushed open the entrance as she grabbed his arm to yank him back, and in a rush they were both somewhere new.

Cor quickly stood and checked her fanny pack. (It looked stupid. Cor didn’t care.) Creamer cups and seeds and campus-made oat bars soaked and crystalized in honey were held in a plastic ziplock baggie. Her little velvet drawbag of possibilities was net to it. Cor had collected the bits and bobs while scouring thrift shops and yard sales for unused baby shoes and abandoned love letters and half-finished quilts. (She cut them into small pieces, recognizing potential power, and kept them close.) Packets of salt and ground vervain tucked in another pocket. Then she shook her leg and heard the little jingle of her anklet. (It was silver, with four tiny shards of crystal, and it had been a gift to Cor’s great great great grandmother from her sister. It was a promise, a last resort, a nuclear button. Cor didn’t want to use it, because she knew the consequence. But if there was no other way…)

Then she took in the tunnel. It was dark before and dark behind, roughly hewn, strange shaped rocks pressed into dirt made up the surface, with two torches lit and glowing brightly on the wall to either side of them. If there had been a door, it wasn’t there anymore.

And when Youngest finally pulled himself upright, staring around in disbelief, Cor gave up being nice and smacked him on the back of the head. “Why do freshmen never listen?

1/?

-

Mention of the chemistry department revolt is borrowed from “Feathers” by runwildwithme on tumblr. It was just too good a noodle incident to pass up on referencing. ((Additionally, I don’t have a tumblr, but if anyone wants to follow this story for updates, I’m planning to post it on ao3. Author name is TornThorn.))


I love Cor (And if you want to send me a link to the A03 story I’ll post it!)

One note - the Chemistry Department revolt actually comes from this earlier ask from dragon-saint! It gives a bit more detail, although still not much.

Robin: I’m glad you all could be here to commemorate the worst day of my life.
Beast Boy: No, I thought the worst day of your life was when you didn’t get pulled on stage at that Spin Doctors concert.
Cyborg: Or when your aunt substitute-taught your sex-ed class.
Starfire: What about the day when we made you stop wearing your mask upside down?
Raven: I thought the worst day was the day you got that haircut that you currently have right now.
Robin: Remember that time when I got my shirt caught – wait a minute, why am I participating in this?

QwQ I wish I could’ve finished this sooner, but here you go! HAPPY BIRTHDAY GURL, YOU’RE THE BEST I HOPE GOOD THINGS KEEP COMING TO YOU & I HOPE WE CONTINUE HAVING FUN!!

been a while since you’ve gotten any charyu so heh…

art by @shinydiamondblog


Byu’s response: LOOK AT THIS CUTE ABOMINATION. I HATE IT BUT I’M TAKING IT.

Originally posted by palepastelprincess

now for real, this is super cute and nice!! I love it! <3 thank you so much friendo!! IT’S SUPER ADORABLE!!! :DDD I’LL BE SLEEPING WITH THAT PLUSHIE FROM NOW ON EXCUSE YOU

Last time when I saw my GP I told her I’m kinda spectical if the therapy I’m starting next week will be of any help to me because I’d been living with my illness for 5 years so I have no idea if anything anyone could do to help get my brain back in order will help… so when I saw her again yesterday she told me “You’re allowed to be sceptical, you have every right to be sceptical” And I just found it validating in a way? Also it made me laugh which was very nice cause I hadn’t laughed in a while.

Mercy

@sleepyfan-blog sent me a wonderful ficlet based off of one of my fanarts! =D
aaaaaaaaaah ♥♥♥ thank you hon, I love it!
it’s a beautiful fix-it!!!

Characters: Haytham and Connor Kenway

Warnings: canon-typical violence, AU – Haytham lives

Words: 2,322

Based off of this.

Keep reading

Monado Fucking Advice

s-noells submitted:

Monado I probably wouldn’t be that bad to shove up your ass and activate since it can’t hurt people. Instead it bounces off flesh, so shoving it up your ass and activating it would probably result in it vibrating pleasurably. However it might also just fling itself out of your butt.

Monado II doesn’t have the limitations of Monado I, but according to Zanza, “only a god” can’t be damaged by Monado II. So if you’re secretly a god like (admin) Zanza, the Monado II will warrant the same results as Monado I, but since most people aren’t gods, most people aren’t going to be able to shove Monado II up their ass. In other words Monado II is basically the personal fucking stick of the gods.

Zanza’s Monado, Meyneth’s Monado, and the True Monado all have the same problem, their design is just too complicated. As in you deserve a medal if you can successfully shove your ass cheeks around their design. Besides that, all of them are capable of slaying gods, so if you activate them, you’re going to die. Even if you somehow survive, imagine pulling them out. As in the True Monado looks like it could rip out your butt and anything else on the way.

The Replica Monados aren’t quite as bad as the God Monados, but it still has the issue of you wouldn’t survive activating them.

I’m just going to throw in the Bionis Monado for the sake of it, but I wouldn’t suggest it. As in, I ran into this issue when reading the Odyssey for school, but how would you even fuck it? It’s too big. As in you can try, but keep in mind your ass would have to be about the size of Agniratha for it to fit. If your ass is that big, keep in mind this thing can cut through solid metal and there’s no deactivating it.

Alvis is probably your best option if you want to fuck the Monado. As in he’s hot, you’re probably attracted to him regardless of sexuality, and LOOK AT HIM. While some people have pointed out fucking him would be the equivalent to dating a video game waifu, I beg to differ, there is a difference between fucking a picture of Melia and fucking my PC. Therefore Alvis is free to fuck, no consequence.

Green sparkle Alvis might have some complications because what part would you insert into your ass? As in, I don’t think you’d even be able to interact with green sparkle Alvis. Sorry, I want him as much as you do but if you can’t touch it, you probably can’t have sex with it.

Going onto the Nopon Sword of Legendaryness from Xenoblade X, it looks more like a leather toy than anything. I know what leather feels like and it’s not on the list of things I want to shove up my ass. If you want to, there aren’t any signs of the sword being able to activate, so you’re probably safe.

Lin’s hair clips are vaguely representative of the Monado, so they count. They’re not gonna activate, so you won’t die, but size plays a huge disadvantage. As in I could easily see myself getting those stuck in my ass with no way to get them out, but they’d just be poking and it would hurt. Unless you want to tiny Monados as a permanent addition to your butt, don’t fuck Lin’s hair clips.

Hamora (the Monado chick from Xenoblade Chronicles 2) looks like she’ll be a lot of people’s new waifu from the getgo. And she can transform between a human/Homs to a Monado. All’s good, until you realize that she physically requires Rex (the guy from the trailer) to survive. She’s taken. You can’t have her, I can’t have her, and if you try Rex will kill you. If you kill him back, you lose your new waifu, if you don’t fight back, you’re dead. Hamora isn’t even an option. Best case scenario is you successfully engage and Rex kills you the next day, but at the very least Rex can enjoy her and you can wAtch from a distance and sorrowfully think, “I wish that was me.”

So here’s the list of best to worst Monado to shove up your ass:
1. Alvis (Homs)
2. Monado I
3. Nopon Sword
4. Alvis (Sparkle)
5. Lin’s hair clips
6. Hamora
7. Monado II
8. Replica Monados
9. God Monados


Some people appear to be happy-go-lucky on the outside, but they struggle desperately behind closed doors and never give the matter much thought as to why.  They distract themselves with TV, or social media, or whatever it takes to drown out the pain and the truth about their unhappiness.
—  hey-its-kiffxr