long day of childhood


Lance pokes fun of Shiro being a merman (not an actual merman unfortunately), and pidge and hunk, defending their father’s honour, dares lance to take some of Shiro’s classes (he teaches people how to become merppl n all that w allura). 

Lance takes the dare and finds out this guy from one of his classes, whom he has a one-sided rivalry with, goes for mermaid lessons as well and *insert oh no he’s hot moment here*

anyway there’s lots of pining and swimming and mermaids and keith being obsessed with the mythical merpeople n lance finding it endearing as hell

[edit:] I’m not planning to write this however I will be building upon this au If you wanna write this or whatever could you link it to me? I wanna see it :D

Me watching Power Rangers movie:

The truck crash was phenomenal

20 minutes in and I’m enjoying this far too much for my age

They’re all wearing their ranger colors and they haven’t even figured it out yet

Am I so gay I’m really reading too much into these teen characters and getting a sapphic

Holy crap Elizabeth

Holy crap the special effects

Ah, there it is. Pink ranger and red ranger..

Zach is definitely my favorite

Training scenes are awesome

Holy crap, I totally wasn’t making up the sapphic vibe in my head!

Elizabeth Banks



*sees Amy Jo Johnson and Jason David Frank* *Grabs friend and squeals* THE ORIGINALS! (And all the adults in the theatre cheered and clapped.)

“Tommy Oliver? Tommy Oliver? Tommy. Oliver.”

2 hours later still a grinning ball of delight.

*Sees cast wants a female Tommy Oliver* I have two female relatives named Tommy/Tommi. Just saying.

newt-scxmander  asked:

Cedric x Harry (Idk if you ship them????) (Also what is their ship name I am confused)

  • who wakes up first in the morning: so technically cedric wakes up First but he likes to make sure harry is on time for his definitely-not-law-enforcement-related job so he usually very gently, very softly, very considerately rouses harry from his definitely-not-nightmare-plagued slumber,
  • who’s the first to fall asleep at night: cedric and harry are secretly the oldest of old people and drink a mug of Sleepy Time tea together while watching survivor reruns in bed but generally speaking cedric falls asleep faster because he really hates all the Drama of tribal council and harry lives for that shit obviously so
  • what they playfully tease each other over: cedric teases harry about his inability to find a pair of jeans that a) fit correctly, and b) were produced before 1995. harry teases cedric about the pta moms who do periodic drive-bys of their house during the day Just In Case cedric is outside pruning the rosebushes or mowing the lawn or single-handedly rescuing a nest of baby squirrels from a bald eagle
  • what they do when the other’s having a bad day: harry is helpless and deeply aware of that so he usually just puts on the notebook and lights some candles that smell like christmas cookies and awkwardly pats cedric’s shoulder whenever he starts sighing. cedric, on the other hand, books a weekend trip to their cabin in the mountains that is literally two hours away from any kind of civilization because nature is calming and harry needs to decompress sometimes
  • how they say ‘i’m sorry’ after arguments: they say “i’m sorry” 
  • which one’s more ticklish: cedric is very sensitive, always
  • their favourite rainy day activities: cedric has a really long list of wholesome childhood memories that he’s painstakingly trying to recreate for harry, who received his first real birthday present when he was eleven years old,
  • how they surprise each other: harry possesses a genuine and very understandable aversion to surprises so they…do not….do this
  • their most sickening shows of public affection: oh, god. god. their Greatest Hits of pda are literally comprised of like 133 volumes so
The signs' favourite things
  • Aries:
  • The moment before a roller coaster falls, dancing to loud music
  • Taurus:
  • The first bite of a food you've been craving, someone enjoying something you made happen
  • Gemini:
  • Laughing with someone and realising how much you enjoy their existence, someone playing with your hair
  • Cancer:
  • Waking up before anyone else, rainy days with books and tea
  • Leo:
  • Road trips with friends, remembering all the words to your old favourite song
  • Virgo:
  • Your parents telling you childhood stories, coming home after a long day
  • Libra:
  • Getting a compliment on something you worked really hard on, rewatching old Disney movies
  • Scorpio:
  • Laughing until your stomach hurts, the warmth of a drink between your hands
  • Sagittarius:
  • The feeling of winning something, looking at someone and smiling because you like them so much
  • Capricorn:
  • Snow melting through your fingers, you friends holding you when you fall
  • Aquarius:
  • Grass tickling your bare feet, fireworks blossoming in the night sky
  • Pisces:
  • Watching the sun rise/set, catching your crush staring at you
  • She had been born a Tully, at Riverrun far to the south, on the Red Fork of the Trident. The godswood there was a garden, bright and airy, where tall redwoods spread dappled shadows across tinkling streams, birds sang from hidden nests, and the air was spicy with the scent of flowers.
  • Littlefinger. Her brother Edmure had given him that name, long ago at Riverrun. His family’s modest holdings were on the smallest of the Fingers, and Petyr had been slight and short for his age.
  • Petyr had been a small boy, and he had grown into a small man, an inch or two shorter than Catelyn, slender and quick, with the sharp features she remembered and the same laughing grey-green eyes. He had a little pointed chin beard now, and threads of silver in his dark hair, though he was still shy of thirty. They went well with the silver mockingbird that fastened his cloak. Even as a child, he had always loved his silver.
  • As Catelyn held her, she remembered the slender, high-breasted girl who’d waited beside her that day in the sept at Riverrun. How lovely and full of hope she had been. All that remained of her sister’s beauty was the great fall of thick auburn hair that cascaded to her waist.
  • The southern rain was soft and warm. Catelyn liked the feel of it on her face, gentle as a mother’s kisses. It took her back to her childhood, to long grey days at Riverrun. She remembered the godswood, drooping branches heavy with moisture, and the sound of her brother’s laughter as he chased her through piles of damp leaves. She remembered making mud pies with Lysa, the weight of them, the mud slick and brown between her fingers. They had served them to Littlefinger, giggling, and he’d eaten so much mud he was sick for a week. How young they all had been.
  • Her father had taught her to ride amongst these trees, and that was the elm that Edmure had fallen from when he broke his arm, and over there, beneath that bower, she and Lysa had played at kissing with Petyr. She had not thought of that in years. How young they all had been—she no older than Sansa, Lysa younger than Arya, and Petyr younger still, yet eager.
  • There was always mint growing in the godswood, and Petyr had liked to chew it. He had been such a bold little boy, always in trouble.
  • She had played at being Jenny that day, had even wound flowers in her hair. And Petyr had pretended to be her Prince of Dragonflies. Catelyn could not have been more than twelve, Petyr just a boy.
  • “This was my father’s solar,” said Tully. “He ruled the riverlands from here, wisely and well. He liked to sit beside that window. The light was good there, and whenever he looked up from his work he could see the river. When his eyes were tired he would have Cat read to him. Littlefinger and I built a castle out of wooden blocks once, there beside the door.
  • Nonetheless, during all those years of Catelyn’s girlhood, it had been Brynden the Blackfish to whom Lord Hoster’s children had run with their tears and their tales, when Father was too busy and Mother too ill. Catelyn, Lysa, Edmure … and yes, even Petyr Baelish, their father’s ward … he had listened to them all patiently, as he listened now, laughing at their triumphs and sympathizing with their childish misfortunes.
  • "Last night I dreamed of that time Lysa and I got lost while riding back from Seagard. Do you remember? That strange fog came up and we fell behind the rest of the party. Everything was grey, and I could not see a foot past the nose of my horse. We lost the road. The branches of the trees were like long skinny arms reaching out to grab us as we passed. Lysa started to cry, and when I shouted the fog seemed to swallow the sound. But Petyr knew where we were, and he rode back and found us …”
-Catelyn, Lysa, Edmure and Petyr’s childhood at Riverrun

Day 3: Childhood c:

Please Do Not Steal or Repost!

A 3 part comic: here are 2 of the for today’s prompt, the 3rd one will be for tomorrow!

Anyway I just thought of Bertholdt giving Reiner something to help him persever and keep trying. I kinda always knew Bertholdt would be the supportive and strong type c:

Forgive me I have not kept up with the manga all recent chapters I have no idea what is exactly going on. So just from glimpses and spoilers I put this together.

aries is the breeze flowing through your window on a cool summer’s night. taurus is the soft 90′s pop playing through your old stereo. gemini is dancing until your feet hurt. cancer is giggling around a bon fire with your favorite people. leo is a kiss on the cheek after a glass of wine with friends. virgo is laughing at a joke your crush told you days ago. libra is lighting fireworks and ‘oohing’ at the ones with the prettiest colors. scorpio is hiking through the woods to get a breath of fresh air at the end of a long day. sagittarius is an early morning swim at your childhood home. capricorn is a popsicle dripping on the sidewalk on a hot summer day. aquarius is a thunderstorm watched calmly from your warm bed pisces is making new memories with the ones who you cherish. 

The Joker x Reader - “The Angel of Death”

As the Messenger of Death, your fate is to decide who lives or dies. If you spare a mortal’s life, you can either curse or bless them, or do nothing and let destiny determine the outcome. Tonight is a very bad one for Gotham: a lot of souls on the verge of dying. And you are here to sentence them all.

The ambush went incredibly wrong; the gangsters knew about the stakeout and the mob boss detonated the explosive with everyone in the building: cops and henchmen alike. So many humans on the verge of dying.

Your black wings stretch, gently stopping their movement as you walk over rubble and ashes. You firmly hold the Silver Sword, the only thing shining in the darkness: one side of the weapon is engraved with the curse of the underworld, the other one with its blessing. Only nothingness surrounds you, the glowing white orbs in your eye sockets assessing the aftermath of the carnage.

You halt by the kingpin and bend one knee to bring yourself closer to him. Only souls trapped in between, waiting for the judgement can see you. Your uncanny presence makes him shiver with fear, the pool of blood he’s lying in sizzling as an outcome of the powers bestowed upon The Angel of Death. Your long, ghostly hair touches his shoulders as you decide on his faith:

“You created enough damage. I have a lot of work to do because of you. I am not forgiving when it comes to this. STOP BREATHING!!” your voice echoes in his mind and your ethereal lips touch the man’s forehead: the Kiss of Death. His heart stops and you get up, searching for the rest of the mortals.

Bruce Wayne is not very far. The Batman armor is very strong, yet not enough to protect from such a violent blast. His wounds are fatal, but you linger on top of him, debating.

“I…I remember you…” he kind of smiles, half gone and delirious. Bruce thinks he’s hallucinating since there is no way you are besides him again.

He saw you a long time ago, when he was a child and fell into that accursed cave near the Wayne mansion. He almost died but you spared his life; you didn’t curse or blessed the little boy, you just allowed him to go on.

You have a weakness for lost souls; he is definitely one of them. The goosebumps on his skin alert you it’s time for a decision.

Your sword touches his chest, the piercing words lingering in the heavy air around you:

I curse you with life, never to find peace unless you keep on fighting. It is your doom and your salvation.”

Bruce groans in pain and falls in a deep daze, but his broken body will survive because you said so.

Commissar Gordon is under a crashed wall, struggling to breathe, barely conscious, which is why you are here.

“Who…who are you?” he manages to whisper, thinking this is a dream. Poor humans, they never recognize The Angel of Death and the blissful contradiction it brings.

Your huge, heavy wings go around him like a misty curtain; James slowly blinks for a few seconds before passing out from the loss of blood. The verdict is quick to follow:

“You did a lot to save the rest. I tend to be forgiving towards those who strive to save others for the greater good. You can go on. BREATHE!!”

You don’t curse or bless him, but the man is allowed to continue his mission on earth.

So many to judge after the slaughter, but it needs to be done: all the policemen and gangsters are taken care of one by one, no other choice but to obey your will.


There is another soul waiting for The Angel of Death: in the Arkham prison, The Joker is fading away. One of the doctors secretly switched his medication, injecting him with a new experimental drug instead of the usual one–just to see what it would do. Who would care anyway; they are all crazy in there, unwanted criminals, forgotten by the rest of the world.

The drug reacted as a poison in The Joker’s body. He was returned to his cell immediately after the therapy, lights out and silent confinement as a punishment for his attitude; that’s why nobody realized he is not well.

So much stillness in the air… and the human cannot move anymore. His eyes are pinned to the ceiling: a small stream of blood makes its way down his chin, dripping on the cold floor where he collapsed, almost unconscious at this point.

The Joker moans in pain under the paralyzing pressure of his organs failing one by one, his dying body responding to your touch: he gets the strength to turn his head and gaze upon you, the enormous, black wings fluttering without any sound.

“It’s… it’s you…” he stutters, remembering the only thing standing out from his horrible childhood:

He saw you that day, a long time ago when he was 10 years old and his father gave him such a beating it nearly killed him. As if it wasn’t enough, the cruel parent tossed his son down the stairs afterwards, ignoring the faint cries for help. His father wanted him dead and left him there, running away God knows where with his tramp. But The Angel of Death decided the young boy should live; you didn’t curse or bless him back then, but he was granted life.

Oh, how fast they were to diagnose his rant as crazy talk every time he mentioned The Dark Queen in the therapy sessions. A hopeless case, screwed up beyond repair.

“My… Queen,” he gasps for air, wanting to touch the Silver Sword; he is so feverish and drained that his hand falls back to the side, while the sentence resonates in his mind:

“You suffered and made others suffer. It’s time to let go. STOP BRE…” and The Joker’s heart slows down, waiting for the end of your command. Your lips are close to his forehead, awaiting the Kiss of Death.

But you have a weakness for lost souls; he is definitely one of them. It’s very rare for you to change a judgment in the last moment, still you need to do it. You get up, the heavy blade rests on his chest, the decision taken:

I bless you to feel emotions again. You will know sorrow, regret and love; it will be your ruin and redemption.”

The Joker’s body relaxes, immersed in a dreamless nightmare; he will survive because you wish it.


Years went by like they were nothing for you: The Angel of Death is not confined by time or space. Your task is to do Death’s bidding for eternity and it will never change.

Busy again in Gotham: things got worse and worse on Earth in general; this city is no exception. After sentencing mortals to life or death all night, you find yourself kneeling by a familiar human.

The Joker was driving his Purple Lamborghini towards the penthouse when he got ambushed by the police and attempted to escape. He was speeding on the streets of the damned town that made him who he is, when he lost control of the car and smashed into a brick wall by Liberty Street. The impact was so strong that he flew through the windshield and landed in the ditch nearby, every single bone in his body broken to pieces.

“T…The…Dark… Queen,” the mortal mumbles, in shock from so much pain and internal bleeding.

You lean over to look into his eyes which makes him regain a bit of concentration.

“You…you’re so… beautiful…” he coughs, wanting to touch your face but can’t: his limbs are fractured. No human could withstand such forbidden transgression anyway, yet he still attempted: The Joker never forgot about the Dark Queen, the only thing in life he was certain it was real and not a figment of his twisted imagination.

“You had enough,” the judge passes the outcome of his fate. “STOP BREATHING!!” and the Kiss of Death puts an end to his misery.

His heart stops and a faint smile lingers on his lips: after being tormented for so long, you finally have pity and give him peace. The King of Gotham is finally free and The Angel of Death decides one more thing:

“Wait!” you order the soul as it prepares to leave. “Stay with me!”

From time to time, you like to keep strong spirits around you, especially lost souls. And you have a weakness for lost souls.


The Angel of Death is only seen by those on the verge of dying, forever cursing or blessing mortals allowed to go on. The souls awaiting judgement can see one more thing lately: a silent, Dark Shadow to your right, wings blacker than night and blue orbs lightening the abyss.

The apparition never says anything, but sometimes you turn towards it and ask for its opinion even it’s no use—only you can decide:

“Cursed with life?”

Its head nods a yes and the Silver Sword touches whomever you are judging, passing the sentence.

The surreal glow surrounding you while doing this gives the Dark Shadow enough courage to whisper in your mind:

“You’re so beautiful My Queen…”



Seventeen at Hogwarts AU [x]

“ Lee Jihoon is a sixth-year wizard, born to a muggle father and a witch mother. Before his birth, his mother lived in the muggle world with his father, until a few months before Jihoon was born, when his father found out that his mother was a witch. Due to his bad reaction to the discovery, in a blind panic Jihoon’s mother obliviated his father’s memories of her and her unborn child, before running away to Diagon Alley, taking a job at Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. For the first few years of Jihoon’s life, he and his mother lived above the shop alongside Madam Malkin, before they felt it was time they got a little place of their own, farther down the street. Due to his mother’s long work days, Jihoon spent much of his childhood under the watchful eye of the shop keepers in Diagon Alley, being fed by the staff at The Leaky Cauldron, where he often asked about the travels of passing witches and wizards, as well as spending a great deal of his pocket money in Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, and reading the days away in Flourish and Blotts, where he would later work in the summer. Upon his admission into Hogwarts, it had been the first time since he was born that he had been out of Diagon Alley, and he quickly took advantage of the large selection in the library, reading about the travels of all kinds of witches and wizards. In Jihoon’s fourth year, he was dragged along to watch the Quidditch teams practice by his friend Junhui, where the two almost got his by a bludger, stopped only by Jihoon who quickly grabbed Junhui’s bag to bat it away. From then on, Jihoon was pushed onto his house Quidditch team, the Ravenclaw captain insisting that she “hadn’t seen a hit quite like that in years!  ”

s.coups | jeonghan | joshua | jun | hoshi | wonwoo | woozi | dk | mingyu | the8 | seungkwan | vernon | dino

Up next is another Secret Santa event I joined, this one hosted by @notice-mesenpai in which I was assigned @deredereforyandere who asked for these three particular senpais, and I threw them on the love couch so they could be cute together! Happy holidays from the senpais~!

Notice me @skillshotlabs-senpai!

Check out my other holiday drawings for this year!

If you like my art, why not commission me? Sanddollars aren’t made of money you know!

| Iwaoi | oneshot | au | read on ao3

And it’s for my heart that I’ll live

Down the hall the vending machine hums, mixing with the muffled voices of the nurses and their shuffled steps on dull linoleum. Sparse fluorescent lights illuminate the corridor in a dim gloom. Everything seems distant and lost in reverie.
An odd atmosphere in contrast to Tooru, running on thin nerves and cheap hospital coffee for two days now. The empty coffee cup in his hands is long useless. Turned and switched between restless fingers until the thin plastic budged and snapped.

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Pater’s Rose 3

Part 3 of my series!! I hope you will like it!!! Let me know what you think what will happen next ;)!!! Enjoy it 

All the love 

E. xx 

I was right, he didn’t come in the next days. The first days were awful, and my thoughts cycled around him. Every night when I hold my book of prayer in my hands, I think of him. Slowly I start to relax, to feel again. I allow myself to open up a little bit.


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