griffin took a page out of spy kids 3: game over’s book of ‘having literally every character come back at once to help fight a mysterious foe’ and i’m half expecting merle to go inside the hunger and pull out john and the hunger blows up and that’s the end of that
↳get to know me:favorite female characters → the ghibli girls “Many of my movies have strong female leads – brave, self-sufficient girls that don’t think twice about fighting for what they believe in with all their heart. They’ll need a friend, or a supporter, but never a savior. Any woman is just as capable of being a hero as any man.”(– Hayao Miyazaki)
First of all, read the pages’ description. It’s healthy, quick and informative. It also avoids misunderstandings.
Second. The Snowdin Arc is finished. Yay! It was a wild ride and there’s still a lot to come, so be prepared!
Third. I will take a week off, or so, to wrap up Waterfall, remember dialogues and characters, take references and make lots of sketches. Those sketches will be posted on my patron, but I will upload some drawings here too I guess.
hello it’s mod s. i’m addressing this whole issue once. this is my answer to this ask and to every ask like it that i’ll get. since i’ve been a mod on here i have myself posted a handful of otay*ri things because i do ship otay*ri. y*rio is actually 16, i myself am 17, and otab*k is 18. i personally don’t see anything wrong with it. i live in America (and I am assuming you live somewhere where the age of majority is the same as it is here.) and go to high school here. let me tell you that third years that are 16/17 date 4 year students who are 17/18 all the time. whats a bit weird to me personally is when you have a 4th year student dating a 1st year or a larger age gap..but nobody cares about a year or two. it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. it’s not something that people condemn where i live. it’s nothing “weird” here. I am bringing this up because it’s something I see in my daily life and I don’t see it to be anything out of the ordinary. The characters themselves are from other countries where this isn’t weird either. Now. If otay*ri makes YOU uncomfortable and you see it as something bad then please unfollow and black list the tag. forget it’s even a thing. it’s that simple. what are you gaining by telling people that what we are doing is fucked up? and in a sense make me and others feel uncomfortable because everyone knows exactly what you’re trying to imply. do you think that you’re going to stop everyone from shipping otay*ri? no, sorry, they tried that and we’re still here lol. i don’t know how many fandoms you’re in but as someone who’s in many there are SO many ships i don’t like or that i think are “gross” but i shut my mouth and don’t bother people. it’s not my place to tell people what to ship and why. of course there is an issue with people shipping a certain age range (not otay*ri’s, im implying a much larger age range.) if you want to speak up about that problem, please do so! but not in my inbox. this is not the place. this blog is not doing anything wrong. we are sfw and for the most part post cute things for an anime we like. our intention is to help artist in our fandom get more recognition if they haven’t already. that’s all we are doing here. we are not hurting anyone. we are not forcing our ships onto others. we are simply enjoying this fandom with our followers. this is all i have to say about this topic. i can’t think of anything else atm because i think i said it all. i gave you my opinion from where it comes from, i can’t do anything else. take or leave my explanation.
Kaitlyn - got upset with me because I was pushy when she wanted me away and we both apologized after.
Chris - got upset with me because I stooped to his opponent’s level when he just wants to win in his terms and he has every right to be and yet forgives me.
James - got upset with me because I kept a secret that I discovered on accident, wasn’t mine to keep, and was threatened if I blabbed and then says shit like “I know you hurt me but I want things to be right with you blah blah blah” without saying “sorry” or anything because well damn I’m so sorry James, this situation is apparently only hard on you. My own feelings on the matter?? being dumped as a friend??? lol that doesn’t matter lmao. Nah that’s okay, let’s just focus on how I hurt YOU.
Whats your opinion on the headcanon that bakugou is hard of hearing because of how loud his explosions are? If you dont mind my asking
I think I answered this q on this blog already? Maybe? But anyway, I don’t exactly mind it, but I can’t say I share the headcanon myself - for one, because I’m of the opinion that their bodies are built to withstand a safe use of their quirks (a bit like you can’t break a leg by simply walking, you know), so in general I’m not a fan of headcanons that include damages caused by simply doing what their bodies were born to do?
But also because generally, even under the assumption that his body isn’t made to hold up with his explosions, isn’t it awfully convenient how only his ears take damage in these scenarios? What about his eyes? How come he can still see with no problems even with the continuous exposure to the explosions’ light? How about his hair? How come he can stand so close to fire without it ever being damaged by it? His palms have thicker skin and we know that thanks to his UA file, but what about the rest of his body? How come he can stand smack in the middle of an Howitzer Impact without getting even slightly burnt? When you say “only his ears aren’t made to withstand his explosions” what you’re telling me is that his whole body is tailord to deal with his quirk but his ears, and that just feels unrealistic to me - by which I mean, when this is the scenario we’re talking about, you can’t give the fault of the damage to Bakugou’s quirk. It’s a problem his body has, not a natural consequence of having that sort of quirk. And imho with those premises you sort of end up with a different kind of story, you’re supposed to write it differently - that’s what I think, at least
Maybe the reason Baku raises his voice so often is because he can’t hear very well, which isn’t due to his explosions, rather, he was born with bad hearing to protect him from taking damage by them.. and then his other senses are sharper to even it out, and his body can even subconsciously notice air vibrations, resulting in really fast reflexes.
Ah, this is also another reason why I’m not a huge fan of the headcanon - don’t get me wrong! If you like it then go on, I’m not trying to stop anyone from enjoying ideas and possibilities!! But personally I like Bakugou not having any reason to be loud-mouthed and rude, that’s just his personality and how the environment he grew up in made him, and lately I’ve seen the hc used to justify his behaviour more than I like? Bakugou being an asshole is just who he is, and I love it! I love that his life made him like that and I love that he’s working hard to fix that flaw, giving him an external reason, something he has no control over, to justify his personality changes the core of his character too much, and that’s not something I’d ever want to do tbh
And it’s also cool to think that he was somewhat genetically engineered to be better in a fight to compensate for a lack of earing (though again, why only his ears and not his eyes or his sense of tact too), but that goes to cut on all the hard work he put in becoming as good as he is, right? If that’s what you like than who am I to stop you! But Bakugou’s hardworking nature is one of the things I love about him, I don’t really feel like taking away from him all the effort and work he put through the years in becoming as good as he is now
“Why can’t everybody just love each other and simply coexist with each other?” is something a Libra would say. They think that if everybody can just cooperate, compromise, and love each other, the world would be a better place.
Libras tend to forget that it’s hard for everyone to “just love each other.” There’s flaws, and due to those flaws, there are misunderstandings that will eventually turn to hatred if nothing is done. Libra is idealistic in the sense that it forgets the ugliness of the world. Libra is a masculine, external sign is ruled by Venus after all… Libra seeks for beauty in the outside world and is constantly disappointed when it sees that the world isn’t always so beautiful.
And with the ugly side of the world, sometimes, cooperation and compromise isn’t enough, and that’s something a Libra can struggle to learn. They may think that a rational compromise will make the cut, but… will it? Will a clean cut, rational solution solve a messy, irrational problem? Libras can often be baffled by some of the problems they face because they try to have a rational take on a problem that requires an irrational action.
It’s hard for Libra to accept that the world can’t “just love each other.” It’s hard for Libra to accept that love can’t exist without hate… After all, how can we truly know love if we don’t have an opportunity to feel a lack of it, which is hate? Libra has to realize that some problems in the world can’t simply be fixed by compromise because it’s too emotionally painful to fix. Some problems can’t just be forgiven and done, because not all problems are easy to move on from.
This is something that Scorpio, the sign after Libra will understand. With every sign, there is a problem that will be positively addressed in the next sign… Yet with that positive address, a new problem will rise for that next sign. This is what ultimately connects the signs, and the constant emergence of solving and having issues is what keep the sign cycle going.
Warnings: Lots of smut, protected though, but smut. Wrap it before ye tap it.
A/N: My baby @imaginedaily asked me if I could write a little something for her and of course I said yes because she’s my baby and I love her and I’m guessing I’m a bit gay – okay, A LOT hehe <3 Inspired in Hey Violet’s “Guys my Age”
You got out of the shower with a white towel
wrapped around your body. Andy Black blasting in the background, as loud as
your neighbors allowed. Dancing around at the rhythm of the music, you took out
clothing from the drawers and started sliding it on your frame.
Your music faded away and in its place, your
ringtone rang. You looked at it and ignored the caller. It had been about four
weeks since you’d been ignoring your lame ex; he wanted to get back together
with you because he missed you very much but you felt completely disgusted by
the idea. Someone told you guys your age were idiots and even though he seemed
normal at first, he proved to be everything you were told he would.
Zipping up your leather jacket and turning the
keys, you hit downtown to see what could the night life offer a single lady
such as yourself. You came across a nice-looking place with some live music and
seats near the stage to enjoy the music while being seated and drinking. As you
made your first order, you couldn’t help but to look at the guy a few tables
away from you. He was kinda hot in a rough way.
After exchanging glances at one another, he
made the first move of changing seats next to you. His name was Clint, or so he
said. Much older than you but not enough to be an old guy.
“And what is a nice girl like you, doing in a
place like this?” He asked before sipping from his drink.
“What can I say?” you shrugged, “my ex-man done
me wrong and here I am spending my nights talking to hot but old strangers.” A
flirty smile drew on your lips.
“Ouch,” Clint took his hand to his heart in an
offended manner, “don’t hurt your old man like that, kid.”
After some enriching music, conversation and
drinks, you found that that Clint used to work in a circus and that he was more
or less skilled at shooting arrows. You were rather impressed with that and you
asked him to please show you how to shoot one, and after paying for the drinks,
he walked with you back to his place which was not far from the bar.
The night was a bit chilly, but not enough to
make you shiver. His conversation was just as fun and as relaxed as he was
inside the bar with all the noise and the people around you. At first you
thought he was one of those guys who liked pick up young girls because he
couldn’t afford to be with one his age, but he seemed more like the guy who
actually didn’t care if he was with one or not. Like he didn’t care at all of
anything around him, really.
His apartment was entirely neat, and even
cleaner than yours. You wandered around his living room while he took out some
beers from the fridge for you to drink. You saw some pictures with him and two
children, and lots and lots of other people.
“If it’s not too personal, who are the kids in
these pictures?” You pointed at one of the pictures.
“My sister’s kids.” He replied, getting closer
and handing you your freezing can. “Good kids.”
“And I’m sure they love their uncle Clint,
right?” You mocked. “That’s sweet.”
“What can I say?” He shrugged, rising his hands
along with him, “all people tend to love me the minute they meet me so… we all
win here, right?” He opened his can and took a long sip from it. You saw how
his Adam’s apple bobbed and suddenly he became even hotter than how you
pictured him. You decided to take a good sip too and let yourself enjoy his
Two beers later you were on the rooftop trying
to shoot arrows, but it was useless, you were not only bad at it, you were
terrible; not a single one hit the bull’s-eye, nonce. He, on the other hand,
was incredibly good. He was so damn good that he didn’t need to look at his
target. He looked at you and kept talking while shooting.
It was like watching that Brave scene when
Merida rejects the sons of the lords, only 10 times cooler.
“You have to relax. You have to be the bow.” He tried to explain. “Try
screaming, at the top of your lungs,” you did as he told you but you only ended
up with a sore throat, “did that work?” you shook your head. “I didn’t think
so,” he rolled his eyes, “ok, now try shaking?” you did, but you only felt even
more ridiculous and he tried hard not to laugh at you.
“Oh god, I’m done with this.” You huffed and
handed Clint his bow and the arrow he gave you to try.
“No, come on.” He said. “Take my hand–” Clint
reached out his free hand and you reluctantly accepted it— “now close your eyes
and try to breathe with me.” His voice was soft, and it took you a moment
before you started imitating what he was doing. You felt your chest expanding
with the air income and with your hands in his, you actually felt much more
He slowly got closer and closer, until you had
his breath brushing your lips. Your mouth hung a bit open when you felt the
proximity of his. It was pure gut instinct that took over your senses, and in a
split second you were crashing your lips on his and pulling from his jacket to
make the distance disappear.
His strong hands held your waist tightly, and
his thumbs circled the uncovered spots of your skin. The bow and quiver fell
onto the concrete floor and the night suddenly became hotter. His mouth molded
perfectly with yours and his tongue gently slid to intertwine with yours.
Somehow, you were not very interested in shooting arrows anymore.
He carried you back to his apartment and closed
the door by pushing you onto it. You got rid of your jacket and top and Clint
followed in suit, revealing a scarred but ridiculously well-defined torso. You
went for his lips again as he walked with you somewhere in his apartment, soon
you realized it was his bedroom.
He gently placed you over the mattress and
started placing soft kisses along your jawline and down your neck. He clearly
knew what he was doing and you understood why people kept telling that messing
around with boys your age was a waste of time. Older men definitely knew what
to do, where to do it, when to do it and how to do it. His pace was soft,
unlike your ex’s who wanted to get shit done ASAP; oh no, Clint took his time
with you, making you enjoy the pleasures of being with a man with experience.
Your breath got caught in your windpipe when
you felt a pair of calloused hands near the valley of your breasts, he slowly
pulled down the fabric of your bra, giving you enough time to react and tell
him to stop, but you said nothing, and your silence only indicated the
permission he had. You helped Clint by freeing yourself from the straps and
unclasping it from behind. Just a little help.
“I could that on my own, (Y/N).” He teased,
keeping his lips glued to the skin of your chest. “I am not like the guys your
“Since you’re a bit older—” you gasped— “I
thought you might need a little help, right?”
“Well, I appreciate that.” He looked up at you
He kissed and sucked on the hot skin of your
breasts; Clint also spread your legs wider to lay comfortable in between them
and use them as support once his lips carried on their way down to the hem of
your jeans. He quickly unmade the button and pulled the fabric down your legs.
You supported yourself with your elbows on the
mattress as he pulled away your wet underwear with his teeth. His hot breathing
was a terrible teaser and it was amazing, because in your life someone had
taken such care of you. His tongue did wonders and you were sure that you were
tearing up his quilt with your tight grip. Hope he didn’t mind.
In a matter of seconds, you were blissfully screaming
the Lord’s name and pushing Clint’s head closer to you. It took you a while you
fathom how good he was just by eating you out. You stared at the ceiling,
trying hard to catch your breath.
“Better than younger guys?” he savored his own
lips, smirking wickedly at you.
“Oh, most certainly. Guys my age don’t know how
to treat me right.”
“It’s only about to get better.” He unmade his
jeans, revealing a glorious shaft under the tight underwear, and before
throwing them away, he picked up a condom from his side table. At least he
didn’t need to be told to fucking use one. You made a mental note on the
various reasons why older guys were better than guys your age.
He positioned himself in between your legs,
teasing your entrance with his length and slowly pushed in. He placed his hands
on both sides of your head and lowered his upper body to distract you from the
terrible stretching feeling by placing soft kisses on your lips. You were
rather confused by his love demonstrations, was this a plain fuck or was he…
You arched your back from the mattress and held
on to his broad shoulders as he pounded harder each second. You wrapped your
legs around his waist and dug your heels on his butt. You loved to hear when he
grunted trying to reach a deeper point in you; he was not loud, and compared to
you he was a bit silent, but the little moans that spilled on his lips sounded
If your previous orgasm was amazing, this one was
indescribable. You couldn’t recall coming so loud and so joyfully. You
surrendered on the mattress while he helped you ride out the orgasm while
reaching his own. You had never been the one to come first, let alone a guy
waiting for you. Well, he was not a random guy, he was a man.
After pulling out, he placed a sweet kiss on
your forehead, and headed to the bathroom. You started picking up your clothes
to get quickly dressed and leave, but before you could walk away from the
bedroom, he appeared in his pajamas (that only included a pair of shorts) and
leaned on the door frame.
“You’re not staying for breakfast?” He asked. “I
mean, it’s a bit late for you to go out there.”
“I can call an Uber.” You shrugged.
“I’m a bit of a sucker for cuddling,” he
admitted, shrugging and walking to the bed, “why don’t you accept my invitation
for breakfast and stay the night?” He patted the bed with a huge grin on his
face. “You can take a shirt from the drawer; the first one.”
You sighed and did as he told. He was a bit
right, it was too late to call an Uber and breakfast sounded like a great idea.
You searched for a shirt you liked and that you could keep. A purple one with a
red, white and blue bull’s-eye in the middle. It was big enough to cover your
butt and you loved the way it looked on you. You even got whistles and cheering
from Clint as you did a bit of modeling. When you were about to close the
drawer, you found some dark, leather-looking clothing.
“What’s this?” You asked, holding the sort of
“Oh, it’s my uniform.”
“Circus uniform?” You asked again, folding the
garment and closing for good the drawer. You slid under the covers and cuddled
next to Clint.
“No, more like avenging uniform. I’m Clint
Barton, by the way.” He smiled, kissed the top of your head and then called it
quits by turning off the lights.
Anon request: Hey! I saw that your requests were open and I just wanted to say your account is one of the best on Tumblr, so I was wondering if you could do a reaction to the S/O being too caught up in studying and being generally anti-social (just to get me through my own exams lol) thankYOUUUU keep being amazing ^-^
A/N: Thank you so much, also good luck with your exams (and good luck to others who are currently taking exams too!)
INT. SECOND FLOOR LOUNGE, EAST WING, KATSUKI-NIKIFOROV HOUSE - DAY
Yuuri walks in to find Victor slumped on a couch across the room, his back facing him. Victor’s face is hidden, and the room is filled with boxes and a couple pieces of furniture, including the one that Victor is currently lying on. The lights are off, but the sun is shining brightly. This creates some cool lighting effects, but everyone who watches Keeping Up With the Katsuki-Nikiforovs knows that they are not watching because of any sort of avant-garde film-work. The cameraman wonders curiously what will happen today.
“Vitya, Phichit’s coming.”
“Obviously for pictures, what do you think you’ve been trying on all those looks for?”
“Oh, well Yuuri, darling…”
The cameraman knows that Victor resorts to calling Yuuri darling when he’s a) drunk, b) hungover, c) exhausted, or d) a healthy combination of the three. It seems to be the latter, in this case.
“Victor, what are you…”
“Yuuri, do you know when I woke up?”
“Probably just now, by the looks of it–”
“More than twenty-four hours ago.”
“You didn’t sleep?”
“Chris left at–what time is it?”
“Nine twenty-nine, then. Left at nine twenty-nine. Just now, I mean.”
“I didn’t see him leave.”
“That’s because you got up at an ungodly hour… in the east wing. We were here, in the west.”
“I got up at seven. And this is the east wing.”
The cameraman has been the Katsuki-Nikiforov cameraman for nearly a year now. This house has been lived in by the couple for… nearly two days. TL;DR, says the cameraman in his head, they don’t know shit about this house.
“I’m pretty sure it’s the west–”
“No, Victor, if you look at the sun–”
“The sun hurts my eyes.”
“Yeah, and this house is unnecessarily huge, but that’s not the point–”
“You know what else is unnecessarily huge?”
“Your ego, probably–”
“No, no… want me to show you?”
“I don’t even have the energy to show you, tbh.”
The cameraman notes that Victor says T-B-H out loud. It’s funny in a Russian accent.
“How hungover are you?”
“Somewhat. And sleep deprived.”
Ah, smiles the cameraman. He was right.
“Okay. Do you want us to cancel with Phichit?”
“No, no…” says Victor, weakly waving a hand. “I just need a hydrating mask and a glass of water.”
“Can you turn around to face me?”
“Oh, Yuuri, you’ll see my eyebags and everything–”
“We’re married. I’ve already seen your everything.”
Even the cameraman has seen their everything. In fact, the reason why there is a show in the first place is because everyone in the whole world probably has seen the Katsuki-Nikiforovs’ everything. There was that tape last year, and then there was an incredibly popular TV show, and the cameraman is pretty sure that no more than five minutes had passed in between those two events.
“You haven’t seen my dark soul.”
“Vitya, I swear to god, if you don’t stop repeating everything Yurio says–”
“It doesn’t even make any sense, does it?”
“It really doesn’t.”
Victor finally turns around. The cameraman hopes that he doesn’t break into laughter, because that might shake the camera, and the ratings for the show might go down, and he wouldn’t be paid as much. Although he does get paid a very good amount; the Katsuki-Nikiforovs are scandalous, but they still remain the epitome of generosity.
“Damn it, Victor, why are you still wearing that?”
“The–” Yuuri pauses, sighing loudly. “The makeup from last night. From when you sang Welcome to the Madness for Yurio’s party.”
“I’m still wearing that?”
“Your cheeks are literally striped. It’s worse than the pattern on the jacket Yurio was wearing.”
“They are not.”
“Just go the bathroom and wash it off, Vitya.”
“I think this is from when I was crying last night from Chris’s story.”
“What happened to Chris?”
“He got engaged.”
“Hey, that’s great!”
“Wait, isn’t that a good thing? Why were you crying?”
“I think I was just crying. Chris had some Swiss liquor; I don’t really remember what it was called…”
“You usually get emotional and naked, Victor. I’m surprised.”
“I think these are Chris’s clothes,” says Victor, sniffing them. “I hope he has mine. I liked those jeans. They were custom-made Calvin Klein.”
Victor staggers into the bathroom, rubbing his forehead and bumping into the doorframe. Yuuri rolls his eyes. The cameraman is sure that the viewers can tell that Yuuri loves that elegant Russian man.