look i did a thing and its kind of crappy but it took me two hours

reykenobi17  asked:

You hate the 50th too? Oh good. What did you hate about it???

whenever I bring it up, I mostly refer to the terrible “plot twist” / “retroactive retcon” at the end-

but if I had to be comprehensive……… *cracks knuckles*:

  • !!! Billie Piper is back…..WOW! AWESOME!
  •  except, haha. JK she is not here to play Rose Tyler. Because fuck you, fans. Instead Billie will just stand around…… speaking in posh-english…… and wearing a very ragged, un-Rose like sulking face the whole time.
  • And since Rose isn’t actually back, you don’t actually get any nice “Oh, Rose is back” things… there’s no Eleven x Rose angst, no flirty Clara x Rose interaction, no Ten x Rose cuteness. NOTHING.  Billie is literally just a Sexy Lamp Prop for the crappy plot to hang on.
  • Then of course there’s the disservice done to………..
  • Paul Mcgann, after being the serving Doctor for longer than anyone, but having no TV appearances, finally had the chance to come back  Him coming back would have done Justice to all those years when he was The Face Of The Wilderness Years, and would have truly connected Classic and New Who for reals………… (and his charm combined with DT’s would have brought the world to its knees)
  • …instead they cast a new person who had 0 connection to the FIFTY YEARS LONG world of Who (just because he has more screen “prestige”/”pedigree” i guess!!), and the actual guy who deserved the spotlight is given a 5 minute webisode.
  • Let that sink in, instead of giving Eight the screentime he deserved, because Moffat couldn’t deal with giving due to a character somebody else created, he had to create an entirely new Doctor-
  • A new doctor that doesn’t make any sense! The “War Doctor” is characterized as a “gritty war hero” yet the only thing he does is graffiti some walls. Ooh, so scary. Also he was destined to die in this (1) episode which just makes his the more pointless.
  • This is because the Time War itself is mis-characterized! The Cool Thing about the Time War is that it was this unimaginable, horrific conflict between two factions whose war technology was literally out of any  comprehensible human scale. The reach of its destruction was so great it literally shattered the structure of time and left things like the monsters from Fathers Day to stabilize it.
  • None of this Coolness is reflected in the special. The images a “Time War” conjures up should have been like in this Nick Briggs quote illustrated by Tealin:

  • However if you just watched the 50th you would walk away thinking the Time War was a tiny skirmish on the surface of 1 planet (Gallifrey), where The Daleks raided the OH SO Poor, Defenseless, bb!Gallifreyans  with their bad deadly lazerz.
  • Then, because the Gallifreyans were mis-represented, that leads us to  the biggest offender: the retcon of the time war/genocide of the Time Lords. Honestly I could go on for 2 hours on why this plot point sucked but I have already written a lot so Ill keep it short: it sucks.
  •  Of all the aggravating things in the 50th it is what aggravates me the most. It retroactively manages to ruin my favorite era of Doctor Who (the RTD era) since it basically said “haha jk, the doctor never actually had to make a sacrifice, AND he was WRONG to think she could make it in the first place
  • (never mind that Nine and Ten DID live their lives with that choice. never mind that we as an audience accepted it because it was presented as a complex, juicy moral dilemma, that was the crux of all the thematic themes of those stories. )
  • but it is all FIXED and now everything you knew and loved was a LIE! long live the Big Friendly Reset Buttom!!! fuck moral dilemmas” 
  • LMAO AND AFTER DOING ALL THIS SHIT Gallifrey could come back in the main series- they did nothing worthy with it. This “I must find Gallifrey” plot went nowhere, and it took it years before it could have any kind of pay off in Heave/Hell Bent (where Gallifrey was pretty much just a white noise for all the Clara/Twelve drama).
  • Sorry, I guess I didn’t really keep it short did I uhhh…..The whole other Zygon subplot is just a stupid set up for the (even more horrible) Zygon episodes later in the main series!!
  • But back to Gallifrey,
  • The episode makes the final point that The Doctor had to go through all those adventures so he could “return” to Gallifrey. And the way it is framed is just….ugh. Gross. At the time the final scene pissed me off so much because it goes against one of the core values of The Doctor as a character.  
  • Let me elaborate: The Doctor as an archetype is that of a rebel, a non-comformist. He is the bohemian, counter-culture to the academical-obsessed Time Lords. This is one of the traits that has The Doctor so appealing to people. This is the reason he ran away from Gallifrey
  • but the way the episode frames it, it comes across as this big moment of “maturity”.
  • It frames his decision to run away from Gallifrey as something not unlike “teenage rebel-dry” and his decision to come back as a sign of “adulthood” (tangent: I was hyper-aware of these themes because they were also the problems with the then-recent Amy Pond arc). And this is the philosophical cross-way where Moffat and I clearly disagree, because IMO, if there is a “mature” reason for The Doctor to come back to his homeland, it would be to improve it. Because he was right in running away from there,  because Time Lord society was stagnant, and “ degenerate, and rotten to the core”.
  • A N Y W A Y
  • The root of it all is that I HATED the concept behind it.
  • The idea we couldn’t “just” have a fun, silly get-together, with as many guest-stars from the past as possible, with old companions drinking tea and hanging around in the TARDIS
  •  (- The Five Doctors . I wanted The Five Doctors)
  • No, we needed to be Serious and Big because according to Steven Fucking Moffat: “It cant be about looking to the past, it is about looking forward”.
  • Yes,  celebrating the past In an anniversary!!!! episode!!! was unthinkable.
  • just ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
  • the worst.
  • Oh yeah, and Tom Baker does get a little cameo but honestly it is so pointless and cringe-y that I always forget about it tbqh.

I haven’t seen it again since it aired years ago (#BLESSED) but Im sure there were other, minor grievances about it in the other 80% of the episode. Subscribers get more at my 50th tag.

All the Things I Didn’t Say

All the Things I Didn’t Say

Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 3350ish

Warnings: Angssst, 2 curse words

Part one HERE!

A/N: This took longer than I wanted it but im a lazy piece o crap. I think this is canceling out my other request for “no happy ending” but like I cant ignore this request so here you go.

Originally posted by tmholland

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The Best of Friends Pt 2

Summary: Jim Kirk x Reader - Y/N’s life was a little messed up, she didn’t share it, not even with Kirk, her best friend. Now she’s been hurt… will she have the chance to explain things to him???

Y/N: your name | Y/L/N: your last name | Y/N/N: your nickname

Word Count: 2268

A/N: so this was only gonna be a two parter, buuuuuuut  now its getting an epilogue, cause I’m a wordy bitch ;). Anyway… thanks again to the FABULOUS @writingwithadinosaur… Drea, you are one of my all time favorite people!

Originally posted by captainprincesskk

Humans have always feared the unknown, that’s why they search, experiment, travel. Ultimately, human fear of the unknown was the reason you were in space, as a part of Starfleet, exploring the universe. It was also the reason you and Jim were arguing.

You weren’t sure what had tripped him, but within seconds of entering the transporter room, he’d snapped at you; called you your rank instead of your name, and told you off. You were glad the transporter made it possible to hide the tears forming in your eyes. Not that you hadn’t expected your friendship with Jim to end eventually, but knowing, wouldn’t stop it from hurting.

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Something About Magnets

Pairing: Jared Padalecki x Reader

Word Count: 3,289

Warnings: Major fluff, smut, sort of song fic?

Summary: You meet Jared on an international flight.

A/N: This is dedicated to ya’ll Jared lovers. I’ve been really loving him lately, myself. Please note that Jared is single in this. Fic also based on the song Ride by SoMo. Go have a listen whilst you read :D - Also I hope this was okay..it’s not as detailed smut as I’m used to writing but I’d love to hear what you thought. Seriously. I’m a sucker for compliments haha.

P.S – Italics are either Inner Monologue/Song Lyrics. Should be easy to tell the difference.

Originally posted by cheerfulsammy

“Your seat will be on the left, enjoy your flight!”
You smiled and walked awkwardly behind the line of people waddling down the aisle.

This was going to be an all new experience for you.
Not only were you going on your very first international holiday, you were also bumped up to Business Class for free. This was turning out to be your best trip yet, and you couldn’t shake the nerves that were riddled in your veins.

You’d been on a few flights before, so you weren’t new to this. But the second you walked past the curtains, greeting the flight attendant manning the more elite part of the plane, you felt…well you felt virginal. Awkward wasn’t quite strong enough a word to describe the nerves wracking through your body and the smile that you plastered across your face.

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Allen Pt 2

Season 1 Masterlist

Michael Scofield x Reader

Word Count: 1,550

Warnings: Language

   The next day in the yard, you beat Michael out and headed straight for the bleachers, your fingers working deftly on working the bolt out.

   Just as you pulled it free, you felt the familiar sleazy breath of T-Bag on your neck. Keeping your hands behind your back, you turned to face him.

   “Thought we had an understanding. This here’s for the family. You made it pretty clear you ain’t blood. How ‘bout you hand that over, Kitty?” T-bag sneered. “Unless you suddenly changed your mind.” His face was in your neck and your skin crawled like a thousand ants on you. When you were about to push him off, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them with one hand, the other hand coming up to your neck. His lips drew nearer.

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If We Ever Meet Again

Dean x Reader

A/N: This fic was written for the Spn writing challenge created by @thing-you-do-with-that-thing. Thank you, Rina, for the inspiration you provide with your challenges!   

Theme: Hunting

Creature: Zanna

Word Count: 1400+

Theme Song: If We Ever Meet Again - Timbaland ft. Katy Perry

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This year, I watched more films than ever before (over 65 if I’m showing off) and enjoyed every second of pouring over their details, scrutinising and analysing them and their merits, and just generally being a nerd. I did have a full list of ten (it included Haider, Jigarthanda and Dedh Ishqiya if you were wondering) but I had nothing to say about them. They were perfect, solid, inventively sculpted pieces of cinema. I agreed with their aesthetics and politics. But it’s really hard for me to say what makes them so great. They just…are!

So the films in this list are simply the most interesting; the films which are perhaps not always perfect, but could not have been made in any other way, for any other audience, in any other language or cultural climate. They are works that have surprised me, will continue to surprise me, and that I’m sure will prove to be of great cultural importance to the industries they were produced in. I hope that all makes sense! So here we go:

7. Oohalu Gusagusalade

Sometimes the most brilliant films are not those that try to be everything, to break new ground, or impress with breathtaking craft. Sometimes, a brilliant film will utilise simplicity in such a charming way that you don’t even wish it tried to be ‘better’. If you are making a romantic comedy, you need a good looking lead pair, some relatable romance and some comedy that is actually funny. You do not need a club song or incessant innuendos or suicide and heartbreak. Kudos to this lovely little film which knew exactly what it was and what it needed to do, while subtly and brilliantly assessing the place of a woman’s choice in arranged marriage. 

6. Bangalore Days

An ‘epic’ is generally considered to be a film with massive production values, conjuring up a huge sense of escapism and a time and a place you never dreamed of seeing, complete with a sprawling time scale and a vaguely existentialist battle between good and evil. But then there is another kind of epic; the kind that boldly attempts to encompass the entire human condition, from youth to adulthood. One of Bangalore Days’ many strokes of genius was casting the ever-popular romantic pairing of Nazriya and Nivin Pauly as cousins, deftly pronouncing the importance of family and friendships that so many Indian films leave at the wayside. Bangalore Days is a whole life lived, with a cast of characters who will feel like your own kin when it’s over. 

5. Kill/Dil

How did Shaad Ali imagine this film? Where did the ideas spring from? What kind of brain can envisage such visual composition, such a rich colour palette, and this bewildering sense of kinetic energy on a two-dimensional screen? Films like this, that have a genuine madcap ingenuity and creativity behind them (and I’m talking about the physical, tangible CRAFT of the art-form) are destined to be critical failures. But I wouldn’t want it any other way. God bless Yash Raj Films, India’s most commercial production house, for allowing a filmmaker to experiment, and ultimately fail in telling a story, but excel in the art of making images. 

4. Hasee Toh Phasee

Meeta and Nikhil sit down at a bus stand after storming out of the family home. Meeta has returned after disappearing for years without a trace. The wounds are still raw. Nikhil is attracted to her mystery, the fierce independence in her actions. He wants to know what is driving all these choices. To explain, she takes out a red rubber ball. She drops it and it bounces furiously around the bus stand. It doesn’t stop. It just keeps bouncing. He was not expecting that. This red ball, and indeed Meeta’s character, are almost metaphors for this film - a small but vital shot of total insanity amongst the mundane.

3. Punjab 1984

Masala films have a lot in common with the post-apocalyptic genre: those barren, hopeless villages where ordinary folk are terrorised by archetypal evil landlords or corrupt rulers, to be saved only by a singular righteous hero. Using no tricks, technical machinery or effects, Punjab 1984 conjures up this otherworldly atmosphere quite beautifully, employing a steadfastly Indian mode of storytelling which never dilutes or insults the real-life significance of the issue at hand. This film was hard to trust, given that it stars BJP-member Kirron Kher and (allegedly) Sukhbir Badal-supporting Diljit Dosanjh, but its even handed, delicate treatment of separatism makes its ultimately humanist message impossible to disagree with. Smaller budgets make sharper filmmakers, and regional cinema is now the place to turn for honestly made and truly Indian movies.

2. Madras

On the surface, this is just a perfectly sculpted story we’ve heard a thousand times before: two opposing political forces exploiting impressionable youths into carrying out their dirty bidding. There are two best friends whose ideologies drift apart, a romance that becomes a vessel of redemption, and a vivid backdrop of an urban slum and its cast of colourful characters from gangsters to nagging mothers. On this level its a good, engrossing film, but little else. But then, notice the Ambedkar portraits that hang in every house, the Christian names, the political literature that lingers on the bookshelves. These characters are Dalits, once ‘untouchable’ people. And this colourful neighborhood they inhabit is government sanctioned 'slum clearance’ social housing - a ghetto in the most literal sense of the word. The film gains a host of added nuances. Every heartwarming interaction between friends or relations becomes a middle finger to centuries of disgraceful oppression. Their ownership of their environment becomes a reclaiming of this prison. Madras is either a perfectly told saga of wasted youth and failed democracy, or an important document of the current state of the caste struggle. Either way, its a fabulous entry into a canon of cinema that could only be made in the Tamil language, and a fervently proud, rebellious and working-class masterpiece.

1. Highway

I’m going to have to try and be critical about a piece of work which moved me so deeply and profoundly that I was quite literally in tears for half of its two hour runtime. I’m going to have to try and be critical about a film which was so personal to me that whenever I thought about it over the next few days, I burst into tears all over again. I’m going to have to try and be critical about a film which beautifully summed up everything I have ever thought about our futile material existence on this Earth, a film which explores love and kindness and compassion between human beings simply and poetically. This is a story about the haves and have-nots, about the divide between rich and poor, about our priorities, the very nature of the things which give us happiness. It is a film about women, about innocence, about childhood, about family. And all of this from the man who gave us Love Aaj Kal? Ok I’m finished, that’s about as critical as I can get for a film which is so much more than just perfect.

Once again, this list really took over my life. There are of course some fabulous looking films I didn’t get to see (and literally tons more of crappy ones that I actually sat through). These are the films which inspired me, got me thinking, and really forced me to engage with them critically. I look forward to hearing what you think! Much love, and happy new year!!

A submission for 'One Hell of a Faimily'

If you are willing to take such from un-Tumblred folks such as I.

Yana Gavrilovna had a plan. Possibly not a very good plan, but, eh. In this economy, there really wasn’t many options for a high school dropout in a village 70 miles from St Petersburg. She had no desire to be a housewife and she wasn’t pretty enough to be a whore. So, summoning the devil it was. She’d found the spells in a book in the old house in the woods north of the Markovs’ potato field, the one that had belonged to Yekatrina Fyodorovna, who everyone said had been a witch. Apparently everybody had been right because there were plenty of supplies and a giant mortar and pestle just lying about the place. All Yana had had to do was nick a few herbs from the Markovs to replace the ones that had gone moldy, and then puzzle her way through the really old fashioned text.

It was handwritten on mismatched pieces of parchment stitched together into a ragged leather cover and covered in writing, some in weird, spikey letters, some in a weird, long-voweled language, and half the time with Russian notations underneath. There were also a few spells in what she recognised as Church Slavonic, but they were all for good luck and plentiful harvests and that sort of goody-goody shit. The foreign spells were much more interesting.

She found no less than twenty three summoning spells for ‘spirits’, which she assumed was the polite witchy term for demon. She found herself torn between summoning a spirit of Heavenly Fire, which certainly sounded like Lucifer, and a spirit of shadow-dwelling snakes, which also sounded like the devil. The need to play music for the latter spirit decided it. Yana had all the musical talent of a brick, and no desire to risk offending some demon with her crappy voice.

She stumbled her way through the verses of the summoning, burning herbs and lighting candles at the appropriate moments. She was sure that the spell was supposed to be all aetherially beautiful and mystic sounding, but since she had no idea what she was reading out and kept stumbling over words, it just sounded like a six year old reciting poetry. Eventually, she got to the end, lit the last bundle of herbs in the candle and drew a wonky circle around the flickering lump of wax with the smoldering sage.

For a moment, nothing happened, and Yana began to feel like an idiot. Then, the candle sputtered, and the circle burst into multicoloured flames and all of a sudden there was a thing inside. Thing was definitely the right word, because Yana had no idea what she was looking at. It certainly wasn’t the sleek-looking horned gentleman in a suit she had expected. Television had clearly lied to her. Instead it seemed to be a thing made of sheets of light, almost like the aurorae they sometimes got this far south. After a short period of squinting it resolved itself into an immense face, almost that of a dog, but longer in the muzzle, with sharp fangs and catlike eyes.

It spoke without opening its vast maw, its voice echoing inside Yana’s head like a seemingly infinite choir. Sadly, it spoke in whatever the Hell language she summoned it in, so it might have been demanding her soul or complaining about the herbs for all she knew. Unsure how to respond, Yana just shrugged and asked, “You speak Russian?”

“Do I speak- of course I speak Russian,” it looked around, “this is Russia. Of course. First time I’m summoned in over a century, and it’s to some dingy hovel in Russia. I guess that explains the crappy incantation. You can’t speak a word of Finnish, can you, girl?”

“Finnish.” Satan spoke Finnish. Satan was a Finn. That… made a disturbing amount of sense actually.

She dismissed that train of thought with a wave of her hand, “I want to make a deal. Demons love that right?”

It looked at her blankly. Yana took that to mean she should go on. “Anyway, you lot always want the human girl to bear your spawn or whatever, and you got the magic, so, hears the deal, make me immortal and eternally young, and I’ll carry your kid. Sound good?”

“Please let me leave.” It looked almost despairing.

“Agree to the deal and I will.”

After a moment, in which the demon seemed almost like it was considering just staying there forever, it sighed, which felt really strange, and said, “Fine, alright, whatever. Just let me leave.”

“Awesome,” Yana clapped her hands together, “so, d’you need to do anything to knock me up or what?”

“I suppose this would work better if I was solid,” it said miserably, “human shaped too. One moment.”

The demon did… something, and it became smaller, and solid, and somewhat to Yana’s surprise, a fox. A disturbingly large fox, about the size of a horse, but otherwise, just a normal fox, the kind she sometimes saw in the woods. Then, the demon did something else, which sort of made reality go all twisty for a moment, and it became a young man, with bright red hair and glowing fox-eyes. He was actually kind of cute, all awkward and naked and- holy shit that was the biggest cock Yana had ever seen outside porn.

“I, uh, attempted to recall what human females prefer in a mate. My kind does not reproduce in such a… physical way.”

“No, no, we’re good.” Yana supposed that human men probably ought to be disappointing after demons, but still.

“There’s a bed over there, um,” she broke the circle with the toe of her shoe, “let’s, y’know.”

They did. It was very awkward and the demon, who apparently had no name pronounceable by humans but who Yana dubbed Vasiliy after a favourite pet dog, had no idea what he was doing.

“So,” she said after they were done, and Vasiliy was just standing about looking confused, “Assuming this takes,”

Yana looked a question at Vasiliy, who said, “It will. I am certain.”

“Then you just need to come back in nine months to give me what you promised and pick up your kid. ‘Cause I’m sure as Hell not looking after it.”

Vasiliy nodded, then asked, “Should I stay around or can I leave?”

“Go, go,” Yana waved him off, “ just remember to come back and gimme my payment.”

Yana walked back to the village with a limp and a feeling of smug accomplishment. Phase one, complete. Time for phase two.

Finding an actual witch, and not some random-arse Wiccan or neopagan, was actually a lot harder than summoning a demon. Google didn’t seem to work for this, so, at four months and already starting go show, Yana was forced to rely on somebody she really hadn’t wanted to. Her Babushka, her hyper-superstitious, extremely devout church-scrubbing, headscarf-wearing grandmother, who knew all the gossip, seemingly, in rural European Russia. Her babushka who would definitely know she was pregnant out of wedlock and lecture her for hours about sin and Hell and suchlike. Not that Hell was going to be a problem.

Still, her babushka could never know that.


Four hours of fire and brimstone later, she was able to ask about witches. Subtly.

“I don’t remember doing anything carnal four months ago, the only thing I can think of was I poked around in Yekarina Olekova’s old house, and everybody knows she was a witch. That’s why father Boris had to run her over with the combine harvester. Twelve times. So maybe she cursed her house and now I’m cursed and a what if it’s the kind of curse that needs another witch to remove it.” Yana used her best puppy eyes and crocodile tears. Apparently, it worked. Supposedly, there was a witch four villages over who kept trying to bargain for peoples firstborn. Babushka had told her that so she could avoid Anastasiya Karamazova, but, ehh. A week later she had borrowed her brother Aleksei’s car, purportedly to go see a doctor at the nearest hospital, and driven over to see Karamazova.

Karamazova’s house was a lot nicer than Olekova’s. Not just because it hadn’t been left to moulder for two years either. It was newer, built only a few years ago when Karamazova had moved here from the big city and had yet to try and buy babies. She looked about thirty, with stringy blonde hair and a kind face, laugh lines around brown eyes.

“So, I hear you’re a witch.” Yana said when she opened the door.

“Not another one,” she sighed, “I will call the police on you girl, don’t think I won’t.”

“No, no,” Yana held up her hands, “I’m not here to bother you. I’m here to talk business.”

Karamazova raised a brow and stood aside, gesturing for her to come in, “Then I apologise for my rudeness in making you talk over a threshold.”

When they were seated at a neat looking dining table, tea steeping in a pot in front of them, Yana began, “You are a real witch, right? Baba Yaga’s granddaughter, that whole deal, not just some Wiccan.”

“I am. Not that I like to publicise such.” Karamazova poured the tea and offered the bowl of sugar cubes. Yana took one and put it in her mouth, drinking her tea around it, while Karamazova did the same.

“Then, I have a deal for you. I’m knocked up, see,” Yana gestured to her belly, “and I hear you’re looking for a kid. This’d be my firstborn, and I don’t actually want a kid. So, I propose a trade.”

“Well, this is new,” Karamazova said, “Never heard of someone actually offering before. I’m guessing you don’t even want ten years with him or something.”

“Nope,” a thought struck Yana, “him?”

“I’m a witch, girl. Do you really think I can’t tell sex and gender, even in a fetus? Both male, in this case. A shame, I would have preferred a daughter, but needs must, and this boy will have power, I can feel it. I am interested. What do you want, then?”

“Money. I want to be wealthy beyond my wildest dreams for the rest of my life.”

“Doable. I will have to pull some strings, but it can be done.”

“Awesome. See you in, what, five months?”

“Yes. 13th of March, around 8:45 in the morning.”

“Cool. I’ll arrange to be at Mariinskiy hospital that morning,” Yana said, “think you can magic up the papers so they say he’s you kid not mine?”

“Easily. I will be there also. What name should I put down, then?”

Yana shrugged, “How about Timofey Vassilieyovich? Timo’s my favourite brother, and the father’s called Vasiliy.”

“That will do. Will I have to deal with the father?”

“Up to you. You’re a witch, I’m sure you can handle him. Although,” she smirked, “you might want to keep him around. Boy has no idea what he’s doing, but damn, he has got a good foundation to work on, if you know what I mean.” She waggled her eyebows and held her hands almost a foot apart, and Karamazova almost choked on her tea.

“I’ll see myself out,” she said, whilst Karamazova sputtered, “see you March 13th. Mariinskiy hospital, in Petersburg, and remember what I want.”

Winter came, and it went, and the only thing that really seemed memorable was that she got hugely fat, little Timmy seemed to decide bruising every organ he could reach was a great game, and there were far more aurorae than usual. Almost every night in fact, and a bunch of scientists kept turning up to poke at things with weird instruments and stare at the sky whilst scratching their heads. Other than that it was just the usual haze of her relatives’ and neighbours’ disapproval, she lost her job at the local pub, not that she really cared, and Timo agreed to put her up so she wouldn’t have to live with her parents. He really was her favourite brother. Also, he lived in Petersburg, and had a job as a journalist with the BBC, and could therefore be openly gay, which meant babushka would not bother her. She liked his boyfriend, too. Henri was nice, and Canadian, and told her stories about Montréal and his big, weird family and said that they’d happily put her up if she ever wanted to go.

Spring came and the canals filled with slush, and Yana became truly vast. Henri and Timo kept bringing her food and weird vitamin thingies and offered to adopt the kid if she didn’t want it, though they said they’d have to do that in Canada, where it was apparently legal for gays to do that and also get married. Yana spent a lot of her time looking up places she wanted to visit on Henri’s old laptop, and going to an English class that Henri taught. She figured English would be useful when she did travel, and she intended to travel and awful lot. She poked around museums and art galleries and looked longingly at fancy clothes and jewelry and expensive booze. And, come March 13th she made sure to be at Mariinskiy hospital bright and early around 6am, just in time for her water to break.

Two and a half hours of pain and swearing later, she was presented with a scrawny little thing by fearful nurses, while the obstetrician was on the phone and babbling about birth defects and journal articles and scans. Timmy had red hair. She supposed she ought to have expected that. Still, she was curious so she unwrapped the little bundle to take a look. The first thing that struck her was the tail. Well, no the first thing that struck her was that he was definitely a boy, but this was her son and a baby and that was just weird. Anyway, he had a tail covered in red fur, a when she turned him over the fur climbed up his back, and down his arms and legs to peter out on claw-tipped fingers and toes. When ne opened his mouth to cry there were fangs, and when she opened his eyes they were shiny and golden, the irises so large she couldn’t see the whites. This came out of her. Awesome. Anyway, Karamazova had apparently bullshitted her way in and was staring at her new kid with an expression of shock.

“So, uh, full disclosure,” Yana said, “Timmy’s dad is a demon. But hey, here’s your kid, gimme my money.”

Karamazova handed over a credit card silently, and picked up the boy, wrapping him back up. She appeared to be still in shock.

“Might want to make the doctors and nurses stop talking about weird birth defects and journal articles, before they start taking pictures.”

Anastasiya Vladislavovna Karazova had known the girl had been keeping something from her when she’d made the deal. She had though that it was something minor though, probably about the father. That he was black or Jewish or something a rural Russian would worry about, which wasn’t likely to be an issue since she intended to move to a Western country where they’d be less likely to be murdered, or that she had HIV or a drug problem or some genetic disorder, all fairly easily dealt with for a witch of Ana’s calibre. She had not expected this.

The father, she assumed, entered the room shortly after she had retrieved Timofey. She assumed it was the father anyway, because he was shrouded in some very impressive shapeshifting magic. He went over to Yana and spoke to her, then he did something that imbued her with some of his power. Then, she pointed him to Ana, who steeled herself for an argument.

“You are not a demon,” Ana opened, “some sort of nature spirit I’m guessing. A fox? You feel like fire and the aurorae have been oddly active.”

He nodded, “She summoned me and seemed convinced I would want a half human child. She demanded that I agree to her deal before she would release me. It was a kind of ignorant determination that I have never known to be swayed by facts.”

“So, now you want the kid so the deal can be fulfilled, yeah?”

“That is so.”

“Well, tough,” Ana said, “She made a deal with me too. Her firstborn for riches beyond her wildest dreams, and I held up my end of the bargain, so Timofey is mine.”

“But I also held up my bargain,” He - Vasiliy, wasn’t it, the hell kind of name is Vasiliy for a fox spirit – said, “Eternal life and youth for her half human child.”

“She played us,” despite herself, Ana was actually kind of impressed, “I’ve never even heard of somebody being ballsy enough to sell there firstborn to both a witch and a demon. Let alone bully a spirit into this sort of bullshit.”

“We seem to be at an impasse,” Vasiliy said, a thoughtful look on his borrowed face, “we could duel for the child. I am fairly certain I would win. However, not here. Too many mortals. Do you know of a good place nearby?”

“Yeah… how about no,” Ana said, “It must have been a long time since you last dealt with humans, but we’ve got a thing called joint custody now. I have him for say, a week, then you have him for a week, and we take turns like that.”

“Oh.” It seemed like the idea had never even occurred to him. While Vasiliy processes this radical alteration to his worldview, Ana took care of altering the doctor and nurses’ memories, so they only remembered a sad still birth by Yana, and a perfectly normal birth by Ana herself. Vasiliy stood in silence while she filled out the various forms, so that her son would have a birth certificate, and not long after Timofey Vasilieyovich Karamazov was officially registered as such, he spoke up again.

“Where do you live?”

“A few villages over from our mutual friend,” she gestured over at Yana, who waved back, “but not for long. I intend to go somewhere far from Russia, where we will be safe. England, maybe. Or America.”

“How about Canada?” Yana called out, “Kid’s gonna have family there. My brother Timo’s marrying a Canadian guy, he might be able to set you up.”

She though about it. By now, the demon hunters had heard about the strange goings on in the region, and she had already had to ward her home like a fortress, and the only reason that had worked was because they were looking for something bigger than some witch. They’d be after her soon enough, and Canada was a good choice. Low key. Not the kind of place anybody would think to look. And Timofey deserved to have as much family as he could, especially family that could help track down his birth mother if he ever wanted revenge.

“Sounds good,” Ana said, “unless you got a problem with that?”

Vasiliy shook his head, “It is good. Canada is close to the poles, I can visit without drawing too much attention.”

“Cool, go look up Timofey Ivanov, with the BBC. Tell him you got my kid and he’ll help you.” Yana said, then seemed to fall asleep.

“What is the Beebeesee?” Vasiliy asked.

Ana sighed and looked at Timofey. He was going to have one hell of a family to out up with.

Three months later, they touched down in Montreal airport, papers declaring them political refugees in hand, and Anastasiya Karamazov walked out into the chaos of a Canadian airport and into the slightly terrifying arms of her sponsors, the seemingly unending relatives of Henri Larivière, Timofey’s newly-minted uncle. Gods help her, for she was going to need it.

Do with this what you will. I am done with it.

Punk!Luke - WILD ROSE (part 3)

A/N: Finally! Thanks for being so patient with waiting. This one is long as f. Let me know what do you think aaaaaand tell if you want the next part. :) xx - N

Warning: Agressive behaviour

PART 1PART 2Summary Our masterlist 

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Is It That Important To Be Liked? {S.M}

requested// imagine where you are dating Shawn, and when you meet the magcon boys they don’t really like you (at first)

author’s note// hey erryone here’s an imagine with a request i honest to goodness don’t like and it’ during the magcon days ily okay and i also love illuminate i’m screaming all of the songs are freakin amazin i wanna diE


You tapped my leg profusely, becoming extremely nervous. You were meeting Shawn’s friends. Well, maybe friends wasn’t the correct word to use for them. They weren’t all that close to Shawn and they were all extremely immature compared to Shawn. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t respect them and wanted them to like you. If they liked you, that meant that the fans would like you, and life would be easier. You were taken out of my thoughts by Shawn placing his hand on your knee to stop the shaking. 

“You’ll be fine.” He kept the other hand on the wheel of his truck, keeping his eyes forward. You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. You were still about to seize from the nerves of having to meet these boys. They are probably the most popular boys in the world right now. It’s like trying to get in with the popular kids on a whole new level. 

“Yeah, okay.” You sighed, trying to shake your leg again but Shawn’s hand kept a firm grip on your knee so you couldn’t. 

“Chill.” He looked over at you for a second with a smile. “If they don’t like you it’s fine. It’s not like it’s Ian or Lauren.” You had already met Ian and Lauren, due to the fact that you all went to the same school since second grade when you moved to Toronto and you were part of that big group of friends. Eventually you and Shawn started dating and everyone already knew and liked you, and most were your very best friends. You didn’t need to fly to Miami to meet them at a closed off hotel. 

“That’s exactly it! They are all wildly attractive teenage boys who literally go on tour around the world just to meet teenage girls who are obsessed with them. I highly doubt they would ever hang out with someone like me.” You scoffed. 

“I wouldn’t say wildly attractive…” Shawn trailed off a little, jokingly. You laughed a little and hit him in the arm. You hadn’t even realized you had pulled into the hotel that Magcon was being held at. It was a really, really nice hotel. It wasn’t the traditional Holiday Inn you would stay at with your family. 

“This is like… Really nice.” You chuckled. Shawn put his truck in park and shrugged. 

“It is. I love preforming for crowds here, they are actually pretty big.” His eyes light up when he starts talking about preforming. “They really love it.” He pauses for a second, seemingly taking a moment to think about his performances. “Okay let’s go!” He opens the door to his side of the truck and hops out, quickly jogging over to your side, opening the door. He smiled,  taking your hand and helping you hop down. You gave him a weak smile. 

“So who is the one I should really try and impress.” You questioned, him taking your hand and entwining it with his as you made your way towards the front door of the hotel. 

“Well, as I said, I am not all that close with them, but I guess Matthew. I like him pretty good.” Shawn shrugged, squeezing your hand as he opened the door. “You’ll be fine.” 

The lobby was pretty, gorgeous even. It was like nothing you had ever imagined. But the boys weren’t here. 

“Where are th-” He cut you off. 

“In a back room getting ready for the meet and greet show thing. It isn’t really a show for anyone else but me if we’re being completely honest.” Shawn stated, continuing to walk forward. 

“How did you get in here without one of those security guard stopping you and where are all the girls?”  You were genuinely confused. This seemed so lowkey. 

“This is the biggest show.” We took a sharp turn to a hallway. “We had to make sure everyone would stay away from the hotel until two hours before. So all the girls are down the road. Didn’t you see them as we were driving?” He chuckled a little. 

“I wasn’t paying attention to be completely honest.” You admitted. 

“They let us in because the security recognized me and my car. Its fine.” He knocked on a door at the very end of some hallway you had make your way to. 

“Is anyone else here? Like adults and families?” You asked, hopefully getting an answer before the door opens. 

“Yes, this is a business hotel so a lot of business men and women are here, not anyone that would care about us. That all your questions for now?” The door opened a little. 

“Yep.” You gulped as two teenage boys who looked like absolute douche-bags opened the door, one holding a mountain dew and the other holding a Doritos bag. 

“Hey, come on in.” You had no clue who either of these guys were. Shawn looked at you and nodded, motioning for you two to walk into the room. It was kind of messy, bottles strewn across the carpeted floor, empty chip bags open on tables. It wasn’t a disaster, but it wasn’t pleasant. Hopefully they would clean it up. 

“Hey Shawny boy, hey Shawny boy’s girl.” Some boy with deep blue eyes that were insanely close together shouted with a mouth full of chips. This wasn’t going to be fun. 

“My name is y/n.” You snapped just a little. You officially didn’t care what these boys thought of you now. Because they didn’t seem like people you ever wanted to associate with. They all looked up, slightly shocked that a girl of moderate attractiveness and what people have been calling, “the least significant member of magcon’s” girlfriend had the nerve, and the gall, and the presumption to be slightly rude to them. One of them had a small smirk on his face as he ate his sandwich. 

“Dang she got an attitude.” One with spiky hair said with a chuckle. You felt Shawn’s arm snake around you, squeezing onto your waist a little as Shawn whispered in your ear. 

“If you want them to like you, you’re not doing a good job, darling.” He didn’t seem all that concerned though. 

“At this point, I don’t really care.” You whispered back through your teeth. You could feel him smile into your hair. 

“Shawny, how you put up with her?” Another one who looked like he was trying to be a twenty year old man but in reality looked like he was twelve laughed, his braces showing. 

“How does your mother put up with you?” You shot back, your eyes shooting daggers along with your words. His cheeks turned red as he masked his embarrassment with a laugh. 

“It was just a joke, jeez.” He looked down, picking up a pretzel. “Get your panties outta knot.” 

“Excuse me?” You asked with a condescending laugh. 

“Y/n….” Shawn squeezed your waist again, but this time you pulled his hand away. 

“No, I will not do that, because you are all being royal douches, and I am honestly shocked these teenage girls are so obsessed with you. If this is how you treat women, telling them to get their panties out of a knot just because they don’t want to put up with your crap, I just don’t understand.” You crossed your arms. “And you look like you’re twelve.” Nice touch. 

“I like her.” He looked over to Shawn, his teeth covered in braces. “She isn’t a lil wimp who will take anything. Keep her.” He looked down at the pretzels again. All of the guys laughed, one coming over and taking your hand so you would come sit with them on the couch. They started asking you questions, seemingly taking actual interest in you. 

“You paint? What do you paint? What kind of paints do you use?” It was actually very nice having boys who seemed to have no personality outside of strange antics and having nice hair take interest in you. 

Of course, a lot of them you didn’t like. They weren’t people you ever wanted to hang out with ever again. They just weren’t your people. Bland and made crappy jokes and seemed to only care about their looks. Nice people, but not your people. But it wouldn’t be hard to be nice. But at least they liked you, and that was the only goal. 

As well as surviving. You also survived. 

author’s note// idk how i feel about this but i do know how i feel about illuminate bc ITS FIRE OH MY GOSH MY SKIN IS B U R N T ITS SO FIRE !! btw yes i used irony and foreshadowing in this imagine plz get ur panties outta a knot

The Bad Boy Experiment (8)

By Kaylee of excessivephan

Summary: Teenagers Dan Howell and Zoe Sugg work together to  find out what the effects of changing nerdy invisible good boy Dan to sexy popular bad boy Dan will have on the public. Dan isn’t too excited about the experiment until the rich and popular goody goody Phil Lester notices him.

Part One,  Part TwoPart ThreePart FourPart FivePart Six, Part Seven

A/N: Thank you to  dil-howlters-kaboomboxmicrowavelesterfairyzzithinkyoucallmeblogger, and the two anonymous users for reviewing the previous chapter! It seriously is your messages that keep me motivated in writing this!

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So Many Stars (Ch. 25)

Pairing: Phan
Genre: Chaptered, English teachers in Japan AU
Word Count: 5,901 words
Warnings: Slight angst, food mentions, implied sexy times
Description: There, but for the grace of you, go I

Read Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 | Ch. 15 | Ch. 16 | Ch. 17 | Ch. 18 | Ch. 19 | Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24

A/N: i am eternally grateful to everyone who has read and loved this story. writing it has been such an incredible experience. thank you all!


He woke up some time later to the buzzing of his phone by his ear.

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samyazaz  asked:

Matt/Foggy, "You are on the police’s most wanted list but you’re in my pet shop asking about how to care for your pet lizard and you are very passionate about it. So yes I am a bit flustered" from your make-it-so-fandom tag.

(Went with a kitten instead of a lizard, as one does.)

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is standing at Foggy’s register, cradling the world’s cutest, tiniest kitten in his big gloved hands.

“I’m glad you’re open,” he’s saying in a sort of incongruously gentle voice, even if there’s some gravel behind it. “I want to make sure she’s okay.”

“I’m …” Foggy trails off, and wonders if he should be calling Brett, and if he would find himself punched to death if he did. “Technically I’m not open? But on nights with lots of explosions I like to come down and make sure that none of the in-store animals are upset. Do you want me to take her? It’s not going to be hard to find someone to take a kitten that cute.”

“I …” The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen pulls the kitten a little closer to his chest. It looks kind of ridiculous, a ball of grey tabby fluff against the new costume, which Foggy still thinks is overkill. “I was thinking of keeping her.”

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A Peasants Love - Chapter 1

Collab with: myashtrayphandomheart
Words: 1264
Summary: Lower clas Dan Howell falls in love with the older and upper class stranger called Phil and this is how they fall in love and how to hide a forbidden love in the 1910′s Britain, where the classes don’t mix. 
A/N: Okay this is my first phanfic EVER, so don’t hate to much on me for it, but it is basically two history nerds who decided to write a phanfic and now the first chapter is ready and there is no updating schedule, because I don’t want anybody to be expecting anything from me xD So I hope all of you like it and thanks to thatlemur for beta’ing it for us and checking for crappy grammar (sorry xD) 

Chapter 1.

A car was coming down the road to the Kendall estate. Daniel loved cars and he took the opportunity to both stretch his back and watch the vehicle approach. He wondered who this guest might be.
With summer creeping in, probably a friend of Christian’s.

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Facing the Music|Steroline Drabble Part 1

Feels like forever since I’ve written something. It felt so good to write again… enjoy! :)

Hey, its Caroline but duh you knew that because you called. So leave a message and I’ll call you back. Bye!

Caroline kept ignoring the little reminder on her phone that she had a voicemail. She knew who it was from, she watched her phone flash his name as she listened to it ring. She had only been away from Mystic Falls for a few days trying to get her back to her normal self as much as she could.  She didn’t think that he would be lost without her once she left town. It made sense though; they were both there for each other and even though the thought of “them” was something she wasn’t ready to think about, he was still her friend.

 Caroline sighed as she reached for the phone that was sitting on the nightstand of the motel she was staying at. She had been cooped up in there ever since she checked in and only left twice a day to get some fresh air. She hid away from everyone not wanting to face them for the things that she had done when she had turned it off. The only calls that she would allow herself to answer were from Bonnie.

 Bonnie would call at exactly five o’clock every afternoon to check in on her. Caroline would tell her how she’s getting better and coming to terms with certain things, especially her mother’s death and Bonnie would selectively tell her things that were going on back home in Mystic Falls. Although on this particular night, it was past their usual time to check in and Caroline hadn’t heard anything. She was starting to get worried, which was why she had decided to listen to Stefan’s message in case it had something to do with Bonnie.

 Caroline was concerned for her friend, she was stalling at hearing his voice again, even though it hadn’t been a full week since she’s been gone. She was staring at the phone in her hands trying to make up her mind.

 Something could have happened and they need me or she just forgot and is too busy to call.

 Caroline sighed just unlocking her screen from the phone on and off contemplating on what to do.

 What if he’s just checking up on me? I don’t know if I could candle hearing his voice.

 “Ugh, come on Caroline stop being a baby and just listen to the damn thing,” she said out loud to herself unlocking her phone for the final time. She typed in her password and pressed one as the voiceover suggested to listen to the voicemail.

 “So happy in your voicemail. Speaking of happy, uh that thumping bass you hear in the background um is Damon’s genius idea for Ric’s bachelor party. Despite the fact that our mother apparently lives here now, who I’ve been ducking by the way, incase you haven’t noticed. I guess what I’m saying is, call me back otherwise I’m going to start running out of reasons to avoid everything that’s going on in my life right now. Kind of like what you’re doing, which is completely understandable which is really crappy timing for me and my problems. You should be here. Come home.”

 End of new messages the automated voice said.

 Caroline hung up her phone and didn’t realize that a tear had fallen down her cheek and that she was smiling. She bounced off the bed and walked over to the mirror that was hanging above the dresser across her bed. She stood in front of it and saw her reflection. Another tear was beginning to fall down her cheek but she couldn’t stop smiling. Caroline was being overwhelmed with emotions and knew that she had to head back to Mystic Falls. She started to pack up her things and with in fifteen minutes she was ready to go and was about to open her motel door when her phone began to ring.

 She saw Bonnie’s name flashed across the screen.

“Hey” Caroline answered as she looked around the room one more time to make sure that she had all of her belongings.

Bonnie sighed on the other end.

“Hey, yeah, sorry I’m late with this call but something went down for the past couple of days and I really think its time for you to come back home. We could really use you here.”

 Caroline dropped her bag that she was holding and felt her heart sink in her chest.

 “What’s happened?” she said in a panic. She picked up her bag and began walking down the hallway with her things as Bonnie explained what was going with on with Lily’s idea of revenge and how the Damon and Stefan had her locked up.

“Okay so what do you want me to do?” Caroline asked while putting her luggage in her car.

 “Well right now I just need you back in Mystic Falls and help Elena and I keep Jo calm before the wedding otherwise I think with all this happening and her hormones from being pregnant, she’s going to crack. “ Bonnie chuckled after the thought.

 Caroline had gotten in the car and started the engine giggling at seeing the sight of Jo freak out while pregnant.

 “I’ll be home in about four hours, according to the GPS that is” She answered pulling away from the motel.

 There was a slight pause as Caroline hadn’t officially left the motel parking lot and both girls knew what Caroline was trying to find the words to ask her best friend.

 When Caroline didn’t ask the question Bonnie just decided to answer it instead.

 “He’s fine but I think he’s hurting more than he’s letting on. He misses you. So just, come home” Bonnie said.

 Caroline took a deep breath; knowing that in just a few hours she would be face to face with him again. Face to face of that perfect jaw line, skin, hero hair and sculpted body. How his smell of evergreen trees consumed her from when he would go out hunt for bunnies. She had to start preparing herself and fast otherwise Caroline knew that she would be at flight risk all over again if she couldn’t keep it together.

 They said their goodbyes and Caroline was on her way back to her town. She wasn’t sure how she was going to deal with Stefan. She figured she would deal with it when it was the appropriate time and place. For now, Caroline needed to focus on the road and what she was going to say to her friends. Caroline needed to apologize for the way she acted when her humanity was off and prepare herself if certain people didn’t forgive her.

 The wedding was beautiful and it was pretty much how Caroline would have decorated the ceremony if she were in charge of organizing it. Caroline hadn’t talked with Stefan since coming home. She gave him an awkward smile when she agreed to meet Bonnie to help her what to do about Lily. She avoided him at all cost and gave whatever fake excuse she could think of to not be in the same room with him, but now there was no escape.

 She was sitting alone at her assigned table for Jo and Alaric’s wedding reception and watched the little kids from Jo’s coven running around and looking adorable in their dress clothes. Caroline was playing with her napkin in her lap when she got a whiff his familiar evergreen scent. She scanned the dance floor when she spotted him Stefan laughing with Damon and Ric. She didn’t want to use her super hearing to ease drop on the conversation, she just watched from a distance.

 Caroline looked down for a moment at her hands after being embarrassed for staring at Stefan for so long and when she looked back up in the direction that she saw him standing, he was no longer there.

 “May I have this dance?” he whispered behind her. She jumped in her chair not expecting him when she turned around. She looked up and he was staring into her eyes until she finally nodded in agreement. Caroline took his hand as he led them to the middle of the dance floor. She looked over and noticed while Stefan was taking her hand and the music was starting that people were leaving and it was just the two of them out there.

 Caroline started to hear her heart flutter and moved along with Stefan to the song that was playing.  She placed her head on his shoulder as they moved to the music. She knew that a talk was going to happen and wanted to enjoy the moment with him before it did.

 “So are we are going to talk here or go somewhere more private?” Stefan whispered in her ear. She heard him sigh after and knew that she couldn’t avoid it any longer. She lifted her head to face him and took his hand to intertwine it with hers.

 “Yeah, um we can talk, there’s a small barn behind the tents,” she answered looking in the direction for their private conversation. Stefan smiles and noticed that she was starting to get a nervous by the way her heart was racing. He let go of one of her hands and kissed the other that he was still holding on to. He rubbed the top of it with his thumbs to get her to relax, once he knew it was working he smiled again.

 “See you in five minutes,” he said before he kissed her hand one last time and walked away in the direction that she pointed to the barn.

 Five minutes…