just shut up though

are you a dinosaur or dragon person? are you a planets or stars person? are you a shiny or matte person?


So this is love, so this is what makes life divine…



Glitchtale by Camila Cuevas

Speedpaint will be available tomorrow because it’s like 2 am here and I’m bone tired. And this pic is screenshotted. I’ll minimize the original picture tomorrow


 I just came up with a dialog frisk could say to betty, because of lols XD 

Frisk: You know, I propably shouldn’t say any of this…it’d make me a real hypocrit. I did kill my friends in another timeline just out of curiosity. No one other than sans and asriel knows about my dark past. And I even messed up my friendship with sans by bringing the reset up. I’m not proud of myself. I wish I had done better and just shut up about it. The irony here is though, that after my mistakes, a friend got a new chance for a new life and is no longer an empty shell. So in a way, making a mistake made us all happy again. pretty ironic, isn’t it? Even a little funny… hehe…but you know what is even funnier? I’m not trying to find a way to reset anymore…‘cause if I did, that means killing you won’t do anything, if you came back. I trusted you…no, WE trusted you! You made one of the kindest monsters go to prison, manipulated a traumatized mother to kill innocent people, you slaughtered children in a school and you murdered two of my friends…sans wanted the future…alphys a new start…I am NOT letting this continue any further… A friend once told me, that on beautiful weather, while the birds are singing and flowers are blooming… kids like me should be burning in hell… you though…hehe…hehehe YOUR HELL HAS JUST BEGUN!

edit: I just realized that the swords design is wrong…*dying inside*

☀️ I feel hella cute today so I’m sharing that cute with all of you ☀️

issues with acowar

ok so far my discussion has been limited to pretty much Mor’s coming out and some misc. scenes that people have asked me about. And it may seem like I 100% loved this book with no reservations, no problems in sight, all is well in Leslie Land.

But that’s not really accurate. I’ve always been critical of these books, and so here is a list of issues I had that I will probably write about at length in the future:

  • I still think Rhysand has some issues dealing with his leadership role appropriately. I’m going to write an updated version of my post regarding him, feminism, and his position as High Lord
  • The mating bond. It was somewhat explained. sjm tried to say it was up to the people mated, but I’m still getting some real heteronormative lack of agency vibes from it.
  • The magic system. Nope. I had a few questions answered, but ended up with more than I started with.
  • So many story lines were just left… hanging. Important ones. Like Lucien and Ianthe. And yes, this was Feyre’s story, but… if you can’t deal with a thing, maybe don’t bring it up? She had too much to do in this book, and then kept introducing new things. Like. Just stop.
  • Ianthe. Just… Ianthe. Those of you who have seen my posts on her or listened to the podcasts know - I was not happy with her characterization. I’m still super not happy.
  • Outside of Mor’s own confusion about her sexuality, I may have some issues with the other context - the society sjm has created that has led Mor to being uncomfortable for other reasons. This is a problem for me.
  • The writing style. COULD SHE GET MORE HYPERBOLIC. When Feyre was in the Spring Court she reminded me of Aelin because she just kept reminding us of what a badass she was. Calm down, lady! We get it! This was reminiscent of the same writing style that drove me nuts in Empire of Storms.
  • Ok I love Cassian, but the boy doesn’t have any flaws?
  • I don’t know how I feel about the whole Eris/Jurian getting backstory redemption type things. This is maybe not something I disliked, but something I’m not sure how I feel about it.
  • Feyre’s dad (sorry @study-read-repeat your ask just now reminded me and so I’m stealing it) was also part of this weird last-minute redemption thing and I’m #unconvinced.

Like 95% of the asks/comments I’ve received have been people reacting positively, but I don’t mind getting negative ones, either. I’ll probably meta on all of these things eventually, but I’m curious if other people had the same issues.

like ok

junkrat came up with the “you’ll hook em and i’ll cook em!” catchphrase when he first met hog, and he was so excited about how cool it sounded that he’s been repeating it non-stop

hog, not used to junkrat being junkrat, gets all huffy puffy about the damn line, because its so cornbally, and he cant stand listening to him say it over and over, and just tells him to shut the fuck up for fuck’s sake

one day, though, probably after months of teaming up with each other and getting to know one another better, they get in a real tough spot, and junkrat’s having a panic attack, not sure how to handle the situation, mumbling “i don’t know what to do???? what do we do??!?!? i dont have a plan for this!!!!”

then suddenly, a big hand rests on his shoulder, and roadhog is looking right at him

“I’ll hook ‘em…” he says, and then stops there.

junkrat’s still for what seems like forever, and then cracks the biggest smile he’s ever done his whole life, and just screams, “AND I’LL COOK EM!!!”

anonymous asked:

Would you consider writing andreil with neil hating that people call andrew a monster and kind of blows up after keeping it bottled in and then maybe a littlr bit later they witness andreil being cute with each other mainly andrew being nice to neil (cause lets face it in his own way he is) and theyre kinda like fuck neil is right about how andrew treats him (just cause he doesnt like other people doesnt mean hes a bad boyfriend)

It’s been ages since I wrote Andreil, so I hope I’m not too rusty! Enjoy!

Neil loved his family. They kept him moving and let him be who he was, no questions asked. The treated him like he was their equal and like nothing from his past mattered. With them, all that mattered was who he was on the court. Neil Josten.

Which is what made it so fucking annoying when they didn’t extend the same courtesy to Andrew.

Andrew, who had saved their asses on the court more than a few times. Andrew, who kept Neil grounded when all he wanted to do was run. Andrew, who made promises and never once faltered.

Neil could take a lot. What bothered him more was the fact that Andrew didn’t give a damn what they said about him. Still, he knew Andrew didn’t want Neil to fight his battles for him, so he kept his mouth shut.

As finals drew closer, though, Neil felt his nerves growing thinner and thinner and he knew a break in his short temper was inevitable.

It came one day at lunch, as he picked at at his sandwich and reviewed some equations while trying to ignore the freshman at his table. His head snapped up, though, at the mention of Andrew’s name.

“I asked him to move his racquet off of my locker and he just stared at me until I walked away. It was so weird. What is his damage, anyway?”

Neil sighed audibly in what he hoped was a subtle attempt to get them to shut up, since he already didn’t like the attention that came from being vice-captain and didn’t want to attract any more.

True to form, though, Jack couldn’t resist opening his mouth at the worst times. If he wasn’t such an asshole, Neil bet Andrew would compare them. “You better just steer clear of him altogether. They don’t call him the monster for nothing. He’d probably slam your skull into the wall for fun if you gave him the chance.”

Neil didn’t look away from his book as he said, very civilly, “Shut the fuck up, Jack.”

Of course, though, Jack just smirked and went on, “Wow, Cap. I know you have a lot of problems, but I didn’t know Stockholm Syndrome was one of them. Or is it just that he’s the only one demented enough to enjoy looking at your fucked up face?”

Neil closed his book in a way that he thought showed great restraint considering how he was imagining Jack’s neck was between the pages. “Jack. I understand that your constant need for my attention stems from a lack of intimacy in your childhood. Honestly, though, that’s par for the course on this team, so it doesn’t give you any special privileges. So I highly suggest that you remember that if I or Andrew thought you were worth taking care of, we are more than capable of doing so. As such, you don’t even register on his radar because seven months in, you have yet to score on him. Find a new hobby. I’m bored.”

He didn’t bother to wait for Jack’s response before getting up and walking away.

Brynn walked quickly, cursing how far away the stadium was from the dorms. It felt like everyone on this team had a car except her, which usually wasn’t a big deal except for right now, when she forgot her phone at the stadium and didn’t realize it until 11 PM. She didn’t ask anyone because she figured if Neil ran there sometimes, how far could it really be?

She had seriously miscalculated.

Once she finally got to the stadium, she punched in the security code and headed for the locker room, hoping someone was in there cleaning or something so she wouldn’t have to break in. Before she made it there, though, she heard the sound of voices coming from the guys’ locker room.

“My hand is fine, Andrew.”

“Then you won’t mind me looking at it.”

Shit. She hadn’t banked on anyone being here this late, let alone them, but in retrospect, it figured. She pressed herself against the wall and stayed very still to listen.

A bored voice said, “Learning curve. Non-existent.”

“You knew that going in.”

“Why do I put up with you?”

“My pretty face?”

“Mm. Except for your mouth.”

“Really? I can think of a few exceptions.”

“Stop talking.”

At the sound of them kissing, she let out an involuntary squeak. They stopped as she clapped her hand over her mouth and scrambled to move away from the door. She trembled a bit as Andrew came out of the locker room, but he didn’t seem concerned with her so much as keeping a hand out to shield Neil in case of danger. She had never thought of him as needing protecting, but if this was the side of Andrew Neil saw, she could sort of understand.

Once Neil came into the doorway, he immediately switched into Captain mode. “Brynn? What are you doing here this late?”

“My-my phone. I, uh, left my phone in the locker room.”

Neil sighed. “I’ll unlock it for you and then we’ll give you a ride home.”

She expected Andrew to protest and leave her to walk home, but he just headed off in the direction of the parking lot. As they went to join him, Brynn timidly said, “I’m sorry for what we said about him at lunch the other day.”

Neil shrugged. “Jack’s an asshole. I’m not counting on him getting better. But it’s nothing I didn’t expect.”

She nodded and stayed quiet the rest of the walk. And if on the drive home, if she saw Andrew’s gaze turn to Neil thought to herself that she’d misjudged them both, she kept it to herself.

friendly reminder that keith, the second shortest of the team has to bend down to look at pidge

Part 2!

Of this pec worship drabble lmao

Edit: I rewrote it a lot!!!

Biting down on his t-shirt, all Jack could do was make soft, strained little sounds of encouragement as the pads of Gabriel’s gloved thumbs slowly began to roll in feather-light circles – the slight coarseness of the fabric’s texture rubbing against his too-sensitive nipples made Jack squirm. Gabriel was barely touching him, but heat bloomed in Jack’s chest all the same – warm and tingly and aching for more. He winced his eyes shut, struggling to hold back a moan as Gabriel rolled the piercing again. It was too much-! Already, Jack’s rapidly hardening cock felt uncomfortably pressured, trapped within the tight confines of his pants.

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Don't Open, Dead Inside

Because Black Kat is a horrible enabler. Also, it’s her birthday. Belated, but whatever. (To say nothing of the fact that I really wanna write this.)


If Genma makes one more clucking noise, Kurama is going to shove his fist down his throat. And that’s not counting Kakashi’s snickering. The cyclops he’s not particularly worried about, Kakashi will wither in the face of sleeping on the couch for a few months, but Genma won’t shut up unless the redhead makes him. And making humans shut up is just so messy.

It really is his fault, though. He’s the one who goes around adopting people. But they just look so horrible that he can’t help himself. Kushina calls it his ‘Pathetic life-force thing; except completely out of control.’ She then usually spends the next twenty minutes laughing at him. He still hasn’t figured out why, but Kurama is pretty damn sure that he doesn’t want to know.

He sighs, faint and brief, little more than a breath of air, and looks down at the small girl holding Naruto’s hand. The blond beams up at him, bright and innocent. “Kurama-nii!” he practically cheers, dragging the obviously Hyūga girl over. “This is Hinata-chan! Isn’t she pretty?”

Hinata pinks, cheeks shading as she averts her eyes. Kurama drops to kneel in front of her, reaching out so he can tug her chin up enough to look her in the eye. “Yes, Naruto-kun,” Kurama agrees, “very pretty.” Behind him, Genma is making those damned clucking noises again, and Kurama is probably three inches away from ripping out that bastard’s throat. His chakra spikes, just the slightest, and the redhead can’t help the fanged smirk that crosses his lips when Genma yelps as his feet are swept out from underneath him. Sometimes having fox summons is very useful, indeed.

Honestly, he knew going in that he’d probably be clucked at, but if he hears “Kurmama” whispered one more time, he’s going to go ballistic.


The whole incident starts when Hinata darts into the house, looking like she’s going to cry and Kurama has to stomp down the urge to murder someone. She halts in front of him, sniffs once, and then looks up with huge eyes, tears glistening in their depths. Kurama doesn’t know what she wants him to do, but he’s pretty sure it’s not going to be fun. “It’s father,” she finally says. “He’s sick. Really sick; has been for two and a half weeks already, and no one will let me see him to make sure he’s okay.” Hinata blinks wide eyes at him. “You’ll help me, right, Kurama-nii?”

Kurama has the strange sensation that he’s going to regret this, even as he sighs and nods and says, “Sure,” and watches as her face lights up like someone shined a lantern on it. “Tonight we’ll go check on you father.” She nods, grabs Naruto’s hand, and goes to play with some of the others. Kurama buries his face in his hands and goes to check out security on the Hyūga compound.

(If he isn’t going to regret this, he’ll… he’ll… He doesn’t know what he’ll do, but it won’t be pretty.)


Considering the fact that Kurama is hauling a pint-sized minion along, getting into the heart of the Hyūga compound is disturbingly easy. Granted, it might just be the fact that Hinata knows all of the patrol routes and alerts Kurama every time someone gets near, but still. Too damn easy for him to be really comfortable.

(He doesn’t really think about the fact that he might just be that good.)

Either way, they make it to the room Hiashi’s in without any trouble and Kurama slides open the door just enough for the two of them to slip into the room. It’s mostly dark and the redhead frowns slightly, already lifting a hand to light the lanterns on the wall. Hiashi is lying on a futon in the center of the room, hand thrown over his face. He looks downright miserable and Hinata immediately scurries over to her father’s side. “Father?” she asks quietly, and the hand shifts, moves, and then pulls away from a pale face. Equally pale eyes are lined in heavy, dark bags that speak of a lack of sleep.

Hiashi opens his mouth, clearly surprised to see Hinata, when his body jerks, a harsh, hacking cough ripping its way out. His chest heaves as he curls into himself a little, body shaking from the force and breath ragged. “Kami,” Kurama mutters, suddenly understanding why Hinata wasn’t allowed to see her father. He also understands that the Hyūga healers are not used to dealing with common colds. Horrific wounds, yes; common colds, no.

Hinata whirls around at the sound of his voice, clearly having forgotten that he was there, and her eyes glisten with tears. “You,” she begins quietly, “you took care of Naruto-kun when he was sick…”

Kurama buries his face into his hands. “I can’t believe this,” he grouses, already in the process of bundling Hiashi up and flinging him over his shoulder before turning back towards the door. “I really can’t.”

“So don’t,” Hinata returns, once again cheerful. In the bundle, Hiashi splutters a little before falling silent and just hanging there limply, defeated.

“This is kidnapping, you know.”

“No it’s not. You have permission from the Clan Heir.” Hinata smiles up at Kurama and the fox sighs, scoops her up, and begins bounding over the rooftops towards their own home, mind already thinking of all the chicken soup and tea he’s going to feed Hiashi. Because, honestly, colds are horrible.

who was on the fucking prison ship cuz I really need to know

I’m hoping it’s bellamy and the others but we all know that chance is very slim

yes, i ship historia with armin.

no, that does not mean i hate ymir.

yes, i ship ymir with bertolt.

no, that does not make me a homophobe.

Why Him? Pt. 4 (Thomas Jefferson x Reader)

Time Period: Modern (College AU, Soulmate AU)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8

Word Count: 1,339

Warnings: Language as usual.

A/N: Ah! There are so many things I want to happen in this story, but I have to build up to them. So without further adieu, here is part four!!

Tags: @bjwrites @robotic-space @pietro-no


You and Thomas Jefferson sat in a small booth at the back of the café and you fidgeted with your hands under the table. You weren’t nervous, per se, you were just used to being on your guard whenever Jefferson was around. Thomas, you reminded yourself. His name is Thomas. You had both ordered a moment before and were waiting for the waitress to return with your coffee. “So… You come here often?” You asked lamely, attempting to make small talk.

Thomas chuckled lightly. “Yeah, this is usually where I come to do my homework. I just like the atmosphere. What about you?”

You looked around at the small coffee shop taking in the sight of it. The small tables in the center of the room were old and rickety, but they had a certain charm to them. The leather booths that lined the walls were worn and fading, but strangely comfortable. Edison bulbs hung dangled over the tables and off-white Christmas lights lined the corner where the ceiling met the flaking brick walls. Soft jazz music played throughout the vicinity and the entire place felt warm and inviting. “No,” you admitted. “I’ve never been in here before. But I think I like it.”

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