may be the best thing to ever exist

anonymous asked:

How do you handle being lonely? I'm a closeted lesbian and I am not in the best situation to come out to those around me, which leaves me constantly feeling left alone romantically. Any tips on how to cope?

aw, i hope that one day, you’ll be able to comfortably come out to those around you. 

how to handle being alone/lonely:

- do things that make you feel whole, that make you forget you’re alone - go take a walk, go to a cafe, go shopping, listen to music, clean your living space, etc. 

- know that your person, who ever that person may be, is coming into your life.

- know that one day your loneliness will not exist in your life anymore. you’ll be surrounded by people who care about you, people who love you, people who will never hurt you.

- but also know to and learn to enjoy your alone time. yes, sometimes it’s hard. but this is the time that you learn yourself, that you learn to love yourself…to trust yourself, to make yourself happy. like what i’ve said before, sometimes your loneliness is a gift. learn to love it. learn to appreciate this time.

- find positive things to do to fill up your time - read, painting, write, draw, binge watch shows/movies on netflix, whatever!

- it’s okay to feel frustrated. it’s okay to cry during this time. it’s normal. but always pick yourself up and dust yourself off. 

anonymous asked:

If you're still taking prompts, can you do 16, forehead kisses, with Rex and Fives?

With pleasure, anon-dear!


Despite popular belief and persistent rumor, Fives doesn’t get his first, and only, tattoo because of his numeral designation.

He gets it for Domino Squad.

As much as he’d disliked being in such a group as a cadet, he’d quickly learned to love them.

Hevy. Droidbait. Cutup. Echo. And him.

Sometimes, he thinks he might be cursed. Destined to outlive all of his brothers because of a kriffing number.

Rex is the one that convinces him otherwise, the day after they lose Echo. The Captain is many things: moralistic, loyal, stubborn to an absolute fault, but Fives would never, ever, have expected him to be kind until today.

“Curses don’t exist. You’re just unlucky.”

Okay, so maybe kind wasn’t the best word. But Rex knew what to say and he said it, regardless of how it may sound to others.

Out of everyone, the Jedi, all his other brothers, Rex was the first one to tell him that he wasn’t lucky to have outlived his entire squad. It somehow makes Fives feel better.

Fives rubs his fingers beneath his eyes and clears his throat. “Thank you,” he says, and moves to put his helmet back on. But before he can, Rex stops him with one hand on his arm, and places a kiss on Fives’s head, right over his tattoo.

He pulls away, and Fives puts on his helmet. Neither of them say a word. They don’t need to.

They’ll carry on. As always.

@talesofsymphoniac said: tbh i could see sorey doing that even more than i could see mikleo doing it, lol. they both wear fancy wedding dresses to their wedding probably 


okay okay aokay tho bear with me:  Sorey’s the one who starts it, because being the dork that he is, he’s probably never read up on human culture and wedding expectations. He’s never really thought about it buT ON THE FLIP SIDE MIKLEO has read ALL ABOUT human weddings because le duH the guy he loves is a human so of course he wants to read about important marital traditions of human culture.

So Mikleo’s aware of the dress-and-gender-thing, and he may not see the point behind it but he’s aware it exists. MEANWHILE Sorey isn’t and the instant he sees a wedding dress he’s like, “Mikleo. MikLEO I’VE GOT TO HAVE IT.”

And Mikleo, who has been holding it in about how much prettier wedding dresses are than suits, is just like “fuck it I’m so glad I’m not the only one” anD SO THEY BOTH WEAR ONE

- Mod Krissey


- mod eli

me: wow that thing i did was so good!!! best thing ive ever done!!!
someone: *makes a helpful suggestion as to how i could improve*
me: did i say best? i mean worst. thats the worst thing ive ever done. thank you for opening my eyes to how untalented and truly awful i am at doing everything and even existing. i will never leave my house again. i may even stop myself from breathing sometimes because i probably do that wrong too

Female Portrayals in Video Games

Recently Overwatch released a new character, citing complaintsof a lack of ‘body diversity’.  Now, Idon’t like the character but that’s for a variety of reasons and that’ll becoming at a later date.  No, what really botheredme was this argument and the implications for a common trend in representation of women in video games.

To add some context, I’m a gay woman and I want to be a game dev.  I’ve loved video games and been a gamer for close to 15 years.  And I really feel there are pressing issues with the arguments for ‘representation of women in video games’.  I’ve made similar rants about this general topic before and you can find my most successful one here.

If you’re concerned with women, body types, representation, etc, I suggest you give me a fair shake and read all the way to the end.  More under the break.

Keep reading

Typical Love Story ; Part.3 - Peter Parker

Request: I got over 60 request so here it is!!

Words: 3,734

Warnings: A little sad at some parts, but mainly fluff!

Part 1:

Part 2:

Saturday evening came faster than expected. You spent most of the morning lounging around and catching up on sleep. Your whole family was extra nice to you all week long, you brother even kept out of you hair and minded his own business.

Ever since Michelle had left you utterly speechless and shattered, not many things proved to be that important, like the stupid dance. Peter’s calls stopped and his text messages no longer existed. He was going with Michelle and that was final.

Some may rank you as overdramatic, but you didn’t care. Peter Parker was going with a girl who didn’t deserve him and that destroyed you.

The best option for the night was to keep of social media. Thousands of pictures and videos were a sure factor to be posted and the last thing you wanted to see was a album full of Peter and Michelle.

Tilting the lenses of your reading glasses down, you glanced over the brim of the eyewear at the clock on the tabletop. It was already 7:30pm and the dance started at eight. Peter left around 6. you watched him skip down the apartment complex steps and return ten minutes later with a hand full of flowers then off again with his Aunt.

A chorus of knocked echoed on your front door tearing you from the river of thoughts. You swung your legs off the window sill and threw your blanket off your body.

“Just a second!” You exclaimed. The knocks ceased the moment your hand fell on the cold knob. Quirking your eyebrow you hesitantly unlocked the old door and pulled it open with a squeak.

Wrapped up in a neat golden box with a oversized white lush bow tied on top was a gift laid out on your welcome mat. Sparkles waxed the paper making it glow from the dim hall light peeking out from the wall fixture.

You examined the area outside of your home looking for any sign of life. The elderly woman who lived three home down from you was exiting her apartment. She smiled politely at you and for a brief moment you contemplated asking her about the strange present.

Shaking the thought out, you bent down and pulled the box into your grasp then entered back into your house kicking the door shut behind you. Your mom sat at the dining table consumed deep in her daily crossword puzzle with a blue coffee cup curled around her hand. You tip toed towards your bedroom hoping to avoid confrontation and rested the case on your desktop.

Your fingertips worked eagerly untangling the luxurious ribbon. Lifting the lid, you peered around the pink case. A gasp sounded from you sore throat.

Inside the container was a magnificent gift. Unintentional salty tears pinched at your eye sockets. A one of a kind blue gown was folded in a neat fashion inside the large box. Your eyebrow sky rockets as you skimmed over the front chest of the dress.

You lifted the fabric out from the parcel holding it up in the air. The skirt of the dress flowed out like the bottom half of a gown a princess might be found wearing. It was the dress… the one you had returned earlier in the week. The only thing you had ever felt truly confident in.

“Oh my god…” You said in a haze. The blue material pooled around the end of your bed. It was a flawless dress, completely gorgeous.

Displaying the long gown across your bedspread you flipped the box around in search for a name of a sender. The cost was high, something you mother secretly appreciated returning money wise.

A white tag made you heart skip a beat. Written across the paper in a messy style was a firework full of hearts. with your name in the middle. You fumbled turning the note in shock. On the back of the parchment was a time and location.

Meet me at the alley way on Greenway Street at 9pm. Wear the dress please, you look perfect in it.

Nerves pilled up. Who wrote this? What if this was all just some silly prank? Your mind bounced back and forth internally debating on the mysterious note and gift. It was obvious this mysterious admirer of yours had spent a pretty penny on you and who knows, maybe this could help you take your thoughts off of Peter and Michelle having the time of their lives at Prom.

Your heart raced a million miles in your chest. Butterflies bubbled in your stomach freely. Tucking the dress back into the case you rushed into the bathroom preparing yourself for the night ahead.

When 9:00 struck your heart leaped. Gripping the note in your hand you waverley stepped outside your apartment building. The air was tight in your chest. A weight crushed down on your lungs causing uneven breaths as you stumbled in your glittered heels towards the alleyway.

People passing by gave you strange looks. Few snickers, some smiled, and others sent you a curious view. Walking around Queens in a Prom dress was a peculiar sight.

Despite the hide away in the street being right around the corner from your place, the two minute walk felt like an eternity. You raced through the possibility of who could be behind all of this. There was always a chance that the whole thing was a setup but you had to find out.

Turning the corner and stepping into the pathway your body went numb. The scene before you was enough to cause a rush of tears to spring free.

Millions of fairy lights lit the dim space. The twinkling lights were hung in a zigzag manner connecting from your complex to the one besides yours. Grand vases overflowing with luscious red roses were planted neatly around the area. A large wooden portable floor covered the cement ground making the premises elegant and neat. in the far right of the alleyway was a white clothed table with a bottle of kids wine dug into a metal tin of ice. Two wine glasses sat opposite of each other.

Your hand clamped over your mouth to hide your gasp. A new voice broke through and you turned around to meet a pair of timid brown eyes.

“I uh- it’s not much but I wanted to make it special for you. Here, I remember you saying yellow tulips are your favorite.” Peter Parker admitted shyly. Drawing his hands out from behind his back he lunged a nosegay of sweet scented flowers in your hands. You accepted them in confusion bringing them up to your nose.

Peter shifted his weight from his back foot to his front tyring to maintain his composition. He was dressed to the nines in a sharp black tuxedo with a satin blue tie matching the fabric of your dress perfectly. His messy brown locks were combed tamely to the side with the help of a bit of gel.

“Peter what’re you doing here? You should be at Prom with Michelle-” Anger seeped in.The whole setup was forgotten and instead to push to the side with the realization of what Peter did.

Peter’s eyes darted to your frame. HIs left hand scratched the back of his neck, something he did when he grew uncomfortable.

“I called Michelle after she stopped by your place when you were sick. I heard everything… you left your window open. Besides I couldn’t go with her anyways when all I would be thinking about the entire dance would be you.” He stated. You mouth hit the floor half out of rage and the other out of a weird love feeling.

“Oh.” You nodded shortly. Tension was building by the second and you searched for a way out without creating too much drama. You could simply tell Peter you felt ill and wanted to go home, but what if he asked to come with you? Peter cut your mind race off as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and coughed.

“She had no reason to say any of the things she did. I put her in her place as best as I could without causing too many issues. She won’t be bothering you anymore.” Oh I’m sure, you thought.

Rolling your eyes you set aside the posy of tulips. Across from you Peter’s eye followed your movements strictly. You scoffed and threw a pointed glare to the observant boy.

“I don’t need you protecting me, Peter.” You spat rather harshly. In defense Peter’s rose and looked at you as if you had grown an extra eye. His feet subconsciously walked towards you.

“I’m going to even if you don’t want me. You’re the greatest thing that has ever happen to me, how could I not protect someone like you. But she was right about one thing… I do like you, Y/n. A lot actually and-” Raising your hand you waved Peter off. You were not about to let him continue down the path he was heading especially if it was one full of lies.

“Don’t. That’s not fair, Parker. You’re not allowed to drop me like trash, kick me to the side, than lure me back in only to hurt me again. I’m not gonna let you do that. You break my heart every damn time.” You felt stupid at this point. Here you were in a fabulous decorated scenery. Peter hit the hammer on the nail incredible accurately with the beauty of everything he put together. Though the flowers, dance floor, and lights hardly distracted you from the fact that Peter hurt you.

Shuffling towards you, Peter reached out and grasped your hand softly. There was a look in his eye- one that you had never seen before. A hint of sorrow and something else, something more.

He shakily let out a breath of air and spoke,

“Y/n I understand if you won’t forgive me but just hear me out.”

You folded your arms sternly across your chest. Peter’s pleading eyes weren’t helping you stay strong and stick with your pride. Sighing, you loosened your posture and shrugged.

“You’ve got five minutes.” His features lit up a whole turn at your words.

Turning to the side Peter ushered you to the small table and pulled the chair back for you to slid in. You sat down silently watching with a hidden humorous smile as Peter rushed around the other side, wiping off a bead of sweat from his hairline.

Again, his tremulous hand locked around your fragile fingers. Butterflies took flight from the sensation of his warm skin against yours. Breaking the ice, Peter’s thumb danced along your knuckles mindlessly.

“I don’t love Michelle- I hardly like her. It’s just… since the moment we met I’ve loved you. Everything about you, all the small quirks, and everything in between. God I sound so cheesy and cliche but I love you Y/n. I… I thought you only saw me as your friend so I faked a crush on Michelle so I could get over you and there for awhile I thought I was starting to like her but then… then I would think about you, my mind always finds its way back to you and I’d remember how much I love you.” The brown hair boy rambled on and the more he said, the more his palms grew clammy. His voice wavered between octaves cracking ever so slightly. Wait what? Did he just-

You were almost positive your eyes were bulging out from their sockets trying to process his words. You darted your tongue along your lips quickly avoiding Peter’s burning gaze.

“You love me?” Saying it out loud made you feel that much more pathetic. There was no way the guy of your dreams liked you back- that only happen in chessy books and over done movies. There was no Nicholas Spark around and you were not Rose and the man in front of you was not Jack.

Peter head moving up and down in a rapid fashion caught your attention and you found him grinning from ear to ear.

“How could I not. You’re the sweetest person in the world and you’ve been by my side through thick and thin, like when my Uncle passed or when I found out about my powers. You’re the only one who knows about me being Spider-Man because I trust you more than anyone else in this world.” His words could melt you heart, but sadly for him, you had a heart of steel. Yanking your hand away from Peter’s embrace you huffed.

“Well if you love me so much why did you treat me so horrible? You made me feel awful, like I’m worthless. You picked a girl who bashed on me to my face over your best friend. Do you know how much I went through? I had to cancel all of our plans, making numerous returns, and spend the entire week feeling terrible. And you dropped me days before the dance!” You shouted. Your emotions had been bottled up for far too long and you desperately seeked to let them all flow out.

His gaze fell to the floor and you could see the wet tears forming. Oh god, you thought, please don’t cry. You had only seen Peter cry twice; the first was when his Uncle Ben died and the second was when he failed his English test (only to find out the next day the teacher mixed his paper up with Peter Mcalister’s).

He sniffled quietly. His knee bounced up and down as an act of distraction trying to pry his conscience from the events of the week.

In spite of guilt you outstretched across the table and held Peter’s hand. It was a new feeling. The way he grasped your hand made you brim with excitement and new found fear, not of him… just of the idea of what it could mean.

Peter reached up and dabbed the corner of his wrist collar against his reddening eyes.

“Please believe me when I say how sorry I am. I was tyring to find a way to shut down my feelings for you because I didn’t think they would go anywhere. I’m so sorry for hurting you the way I did. You mean the world to me and I never meant to hurt you, ever. And you’re not worthless. I figured you wouldn’t want me as your date so I tried to just save you the time. If I had known how this would turn out I’d never have asked Michelle in the first place. I’m sorry for everything she put you through. You didn’t deserve to be treated the way she-” Jumping up from your spot you lifted the ends of the mouth watering dress and threw your arm around Peter practically sitting in his lap as you cuddled into his warm side. His hand shot up out of instinct to keep you from falling out. The material of the dress bunched up underneath you at the sudden movement but you couldn’t care less. Peter’s hand rested on the small of your half bare back and a tint of blood red began to coat his cheeks.

“Just kiss me already would you?” You giggled. The demand was the product of a rain of adrenaline from Peter’s confession. Typically you were not so outspoken and forward but hearing him say that he loves you to your face, well that brought out a totally different wave you had never experienced.

With a cheeky smirk, Peter leaned in closing the gap between your lips and kissed you softer than expected. His lips felt like pure bliss, you were a permanent resident on cloud nine when his lips worked against yours. Air shortage grew tight in your lungs as the kiss deepened. Boldly up placed your hands on either side of Peter’s face bringing him closer to you. He hummed in satisfaction and found his way to your hips.

Light headedness entered your system and you detached yourself from Peter with a happy sigh. His hand lifted, skimming against the skin of his tender lips.

Standing up from his lap you helped bring him to his feet. Peter’s strong arm snaked around your waist holding your frame to his side. Smiling you soaked in the liveliness of the once dull alleyway. You nudged Peter and pointed around the space.

“Did you do all this yourself?” You asked still flabbergasted. It must’ve taken Peter hours to set everything up. You were thankful you had remained sulken in your room and didn’t glance out the window at all the entire day.

A bashful grin appeared and Peter shrugged nonchalantly.  

“No, I had a little help from Mr. Stark and Aunt May. Mr.Stark said I was stupid for treating you the way I did, and he’s right, so he said he couldn’t stand by and watch me ruin something good so he insisted on helping.” He chuckled. Peter led you to the hand made dance floor and spun you into his arms slyly. Grasping his bicep to keep your balanced you winked at Peter.

“Well tell Mr. Stark I think he’s a genius.” You gushed swaying to the melodic tunes in sync with Peter.

The music echoed smoothly like a distant crashing wash lulling you to a bliss full of peace and serenity. Peter’s placement settled on your waist lifting his hand that was intertwined with yours and danced to the rhythm of the slow pace. You copied his footsteps like a mirror being extra careful to pull your foot back before his came crashing down.

From high above you two a loud cheering entered the scene. You stepped out of the gazebo and squinted up in the direction of Peter’s apartment only to find Tony Stark and Aunt May gleaming down. May had a camera glued to her face, an evident smile peeking out from behind the lense. Mr. Stark had a glass of pinot grigio raised in the air as if he were toasting you.

“Of course I am kid. Now have fun you two but not too much if you know what I mean.” So maybe he was really only toasting himself. Tony waved to you with a childlike grin.

“Tony!” Aunt May scolded sharply slapping his arm. Tony shuddered and winced as he babied his shoulder. May smirked in victory and waved at you two then shut the window of Peter’s bedroom.

You laughed hiding you face in Peter’s chest. His hand found the back of your head rubbing your freshly styled hair. You could feel his eyes scape your body, not in the gross way but more in an astonished way. Now it was your turn to blush.

“You look gorgeous in that dress by the way.” His compliment was simple yet threw your heart into overdrive. Looking down at yourself you gave Peter’s hand a light squeeze.

“Thanks, Peter. It must have cost you a fortune-” Your words were cut short by a pair of familiar lips smashing against yours. Peter’s kiss provided more passion the second time around but was still as sweet and gentle as the first. You drew back breathless and happy.

“Don’t worry about it, oh wait I got you something else.” Peter walked you over to the table you had been sitting at moments ago and dragged a bag out from under the sheet. You gave him a confused look and he held his finger up. Not long later he pulled out a baby blue corsage, twins to the one already pinned on his tux. Unsure, Peter tried tying the ribbon around your wrist multiple times. The heavy flower slid off and Peter fell to his knees preventing it from hitting the ground. Bursting out in a fit of giggles you watched as Peter managed to finally tighten the corsage the right way. “I-I… I think this is how you do it, uh, there we go.”

Lifting up to your tippy toes you planted a warm kiss on Peter’s burning cheek. He was too perfect to resist.

“You’re the best, Peter.” You stated leaning your head against his shoulder.

After a few hours of dancing, joking around, excited kisses, and laughs Peter walked over to his speaker and unplugged his phone. You tilted your head and walked to his side yawning as you did so. The sun was asleep and the moon was floating high in the crisp dark sky.

Turning on his back heel Peter slide his arm around your shoulder.

“Say… you maybe wanna head up to my room and order a pizza and watch a few movies? I’ll even let you pick which ones.” Peter suggested. He wiggled his eyebrows funnily and smirked. You nodded your head and reached down unstrapping the buckle of your heels.

“Sure but I can not take another second in these death traps so I’m going to walk barefoot and if-” You screamed in shock as your feet left the ground without warning. Peter had swept you off your feet, literally, and held you close. Lost for words you slapped his side briefly masking your smile.

“Ow, what was that for?” He questioned looking down at you.

“You scared the life out of me.” You said loudly. By the hint of mischievous in his sparkling eyes, you knew Peter already was aware why you screamed but it humored him to tease you.

“What did you really think I was about to let you walk barefoot all the way up to my apartment? No way. Besides haven’t you ever seen a Disney movie before? The princess always gets carried away by the Prince, I thought you knew that.”

A smile found it’s way to your face. You took in every little thing about Peter on the ride up to his room. When his kicked open his bedroom door and laid you down softly on your head you realized that you had been wrong all along, maybe this was a typical love story, but the cliche stories weren’t always awful. And maybe you were the Julia Roberts of the film, but you weren’t complaining, because in those films she always ends up with the guy of her dreams and that was exactly what was happening right now.

-Daizy xx

Taehyung Appreciation

Happy Taehyung day!! For anyone that doesn’t know Tae is actually my ultimate bias and one of my favorite people ever to exist so these are not all of the reasons that I love him/he’s amazing but these are just a few (10 to be exact)

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Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #18

Rules: You can find past rec lists here. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!

Day 2: Home by genocidalCatgal
Words: 1,440
Author’s Summary: Blue is the best thing that has ever happened to Lance.
My Comments: Suuppper cute bonding fic with Lance and Blue, early in their relationship. I love this emotional boy his giant robot cat. Also, very cool stuff about the past blue paladin.

Parasite Knight by VelkynKarma
Author’s Summary: “You may refuse all you like, Champion, but I have found the one thing in the universe that can be absolutely counted on is that everything that exists desires to survive. Even you. Perhaps especially you.”Something’s not right with Shiro, but it may go far deeper than anybody anticipated.
My Comments: Holy crap on a cracker, this fic is EVERYTHING. It’s hurt/comfort and sickfic and team bonding and we’re only halfway through and it is SO incredible already. The insights into just everybody are amazing, and everyone has an important role in tackling this seemingly insurmountable problem. Hurry, hurry, read it now so you can catch every update as they come out. This fic is making the wait for Season 2 bearable.

Stoplight by acryology
Words: 1,674
Author’s Summary: When Coran and Allura learn about the game of “Red Light, Green Light” from the paladins, they all decide to play a few rounds as a “training exercise”.
My Comments: Cute team bonding!

all alone, all together by seules
Words: 1,516
Author’s Summary: This is bigger than anything he ever imagined. Lance knows the world’s balls deep shitty, so it’s not much of a stretch for the universe to take a crap and coat itself in it, only in a much larger scale. But it’s different when you’re told that the universe as you know it is about to be completely taken over by a tyrannical, fascist madman (surprise, surprise) and Obi-Lance Kenobi, you’re 1/5 of the universe’s only hope!
My Comments: Aww, Lance and Allura bonding! I’m astounded that mine is the only comment on this fic. Please read it and encourage the writer.

The Ones We Leave Behind by psiten
Words: 2,894
Author’s Summary: In between all the bleeding and fighting, time for reading and writing. “Hey…” The unmistakable sound of a thought appearing in Lance’s brain, like the proximity of magnetic force summoning an electric charge out of nothingness. “Wait a second, Pidge… your human name was Katie Holt, right?” “Um. My birth name was Katie, or Katherine anyway. I never stopped being human, thanks.” Originally written for the PROJECT: PALadins gen zine (December 2016).
My Comments: This fic was absolutely worth paying money for, but if you couldn’t afford it, lucky for you it’s available now!

A Little Unsteady (Hold Onto Me) by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee
Words: 13,385
Author’s Summary: Takashi Shirogane is nine years old when he holds his brother for the first time. “I’m here,” he’d whispered to his fussing baby brother, “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.” And Keith stopped crying. He didn’t laugh; he looked up at Shiro with big, skeptical eyes. A challenge. Like this tiny person was saying ‘oh yeah, prove it’. And Shiro, newly nine years old, promised that he’d prove it. Shiro and Keith’s childhood in moments.
My Comments: Modern setting AU, but with a few tweaks I could absolutely see this working in canon-verse. It’s incredibly touching and well-written, and Shiro’s development from reluctant child to fiercely protective big brother was beautiful to watch. Both boys went through a lot of heartache, but by the end they’re together, and you know they’re going to be okay.

accidental by EmmaLuLuChu
Words: 2,768
Author’s Summary: one word prompt from a writing sprint in which a thing happens and it is Rough.
My Comments: This is angsty but somehow hopeful at the same time. The team will not give up on Shiro. Ever.

this decay, this hope, this mouthful of dirt by lacking
Words: 9,490
Author’s Summary: Sendak steps closer and Shiro thinks about statistics —the insurmountable odds against Sendak being discovered in the void of space, the passing ship being Galra and not some scavenger. Pidge or Hunk could probably devise some kind of equation to highlight the absurdity of it, lay out in a spectacular display of numbers just how bad Shiro’s luck really is. Or: captured by the Galra and awaiting rescue, Shiro’s forced to confront who he was, how he’s changed, and what that means about the person he’s become.
My Comments: This one is stunning. The non-linear storyline really enhanced the confusion and incoherence in Shiro’s mindscape, and all of the memories and present scenes were well-woven and important. Especially loved the bits with the paladins together, and the ending was perfect. 

So Small and Significant by Hedgi for Meriadoc
Words: 2,275
Author’s Summary: With everyone scattered, Shiro has to chose who to go after first, and it isn’t much of a choice. He promised himself weeks ago not to fail the Holts again. He may have to go farther than he thought to keep that promise.
My Comments: Shiro’s unthinking protectiveness of Pidge is absolutely in character, and their interaction was lovely. 

Surely Someday by 15Strawberries for buttered_onions
Words: 3,437
Author’s Summary: Lance and Hunk have a tradition. Every day after class, they find an empty classroom to jam in, to unwind from the stress of the day. It grows from there.
My Comments: Adorable college/jazz band AU. I love how the group grew and developed and came to depend on each other, and the ending was absolutely heartwarming. It reminded me of my own college experience in a music program, and that’s not a bad thing at all. 

Sorry, Who Are You? by squirenonny for Piper
Words: 5,643
Author’s Summary: When Keith was seven years old, he spent a year in La Quinta with a boy named Lance, the best friend he ever had. Ten years later, Lance and Keith reunite at the Garrison–only Keith doesn’t remember who Lance is.
My Comments: Mild Klance. I like the way this deepens canon, giving Lance a real reason for being upset with Keith from the beginning, though Keith’s forgetting is understandable, too, considering his life. The ending was sweet and satisfying.

Save The Date by buttered_onions
Words: 1,979
Author’s Summary: Homesickness in space is no joke, and Lance isn’t the only one who needs cheering up. Luckily, Hunk’s got a Plan. …assuming he can get it to work.
My Comments: This is absolutely precious. Everyone gets lifted up, in typical Hunk style, and he gets a turn, too. I especially loved the continuing saga of Coran’s birthday tootle.

boredom is cruel and unusual punishment by babitty
Words: 3,183
Author’s Summary: 3000 words of Lance getting the shit beat out of him, because i needed to get some angst out of my system. it’s not very graphic but injuries are listed and batons are used.
My Comments: This is an old-fashioned whump fic, where the point is very much Lance (and Keith to a lesser extent) getting beat up. But there’s a lot of courage and tenacity on display here, and they do very much feel like themselves. An enjoyable fic, if you’re in the mood for hurt with not a lot of comfort.

Let Him Rest by jadencross
Words: 960
Author’s Summary: Coran does so much for the team. And Keith thinks that it’s time he did something for his crazy space uncle.
My Comments: Ah, and this is pretty much the opposite of the last rec, haha. Love Keith being the very definition of Aggressively Cares About You, and Coran needs a lot more love. Sweet fic.

strength of the small by nowweareunstoppable
Words: 12,736
Author’s Summary: A false distress signal lands the paladins in a tough situation. It falls to Pidge to earn their freedom, and it doesn’t come without a dangerous cost.
My Comments: This fic is AMAZING. Pidge is an absolute badass, smart and strong and extremely well-characterized. The frantic run afterward to get her to help was intense and wrenching, too. And Lance was especially wonderful. You can feel his desperation, how deeply he loves Pidge and needs her to be okay, because she’s his little sister now and he CANNOT lose his family. Ahhh, I loved this one to bits. Highly recommended.

Previously Recced Fics That Updated This Week:

When Rome’s in Ruins by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)
The Final Act of Mercy by ptw30
bombs and bullets by ashinan
Where No One Goes by earthstar
The Lightning Strike by Merilindir
Beast You’ve Made of Me by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)
He Sleeps in the Sky of Ice by jadencross
Coming Undone by Emerald_Ashes
Someplace Like Home by squirenonny
Road Trip to End Times by VelkynKarma

If you haven't unlocked the secret Wynonna Earp tumblr don't read below

Oh my gosh. THAT BLOG. NICOLE AND HER THOUGHTS. I can’t believe Emily gave us this. And with MY FAVORITE CHARACTER! And we’ve never really seen her be her little snarky self with Waverly. Just her heart eyes self. And I love that she’s still so snarky with Waverly. “Dude. Your sister banged Dolls” I LOVE HER SO MUCH. And then you know there’s the part where SHE IS LITERALLY TOO GAY TO FUNCTION. And then the TEXTS. OH THE TEXTS. “You were SHOT” “I was GRAZED” “I don’t know what I would do without you” AND THE UNICORNS. ALL THE UNICORNS THEY TEXT EACH OTHER UNICORNS. OH MY GOD. AND KISSES. THEY TEXT EACH OTHER UNICORNS AND KISSES GUYS I CANT. And then the last entry. OH THE LAST ENTRY. “Maybe have a future” NICOLE IS WRITING IN HER JOURNAL ABOUT A FUTURE WITH WAVERLY. GUYS. GUYS. MY EMOTIONALLY CLOSED OFF SELF DOES NOT HAVE THE EQUIPMENT TO DEAL WITH ALL THESE EMOTIONS. I just can’t believe Emily gave this to us. I am just so appreciative. I may or may not have cried multiple times today because I’m just so grateful for all the things she’s given us and continues to give us. Just…agh. Emily is a goddess. And the best showrunner to ever exist on this earth. Oh and lastly. 😺🍆🌸✈️ And of course 🦄

I love Origins. Origins makes me so happy.  And I find myself playing it and thinking about what I need to do and where I need to go and I’m not dreading any of it.  Well, as much as someone playing Origins can not dread the Fade level because really, fuck that shit.  But it’s so different from the third game.

Like with Inquisition I start it up and make my character and I’m like ‘fuck, I need to kill rams and find clothes and do this and that and then deal with an asshole mayor and crawl through the freezing cold and almost die in the snow and then don’t even get me started on this sense of dread I get about thinking about having to go to Emprise du Lion, the Exalted Plains, Emerald Graves, Hissing Wastes, Fallow Mire (insert any other place in the game that exists that I may have forgotten that have no consequence on the game whatso-fucking-ever) and they’re all so… tedious.  And they’re filler at best and don’t even get me started on the Solasan Temple in the Forbidden Oasis and then… there’s nothing like that in Origins.  Everything you do, every single little thing you do and place you go has some kind of consequence on the game, whether it be your alliances or the Landsmeet or the Battle of Denerim… it all matters in Origins and I love that.  I love that you have to scrutinize your decisions and pay attention to what you’re doing and how you build up your party or else you’re fucked fighting the archdemon (personal experience) and that doesn’t happen in Inquisition.  None of your judgements have an impact on the endgame, nothing you do in the Temple of Mythal has an impact on the endgame (unless you care about what color dragon fights on your side), whatever you choose to do with the Wardens or the Templars or Mages really has no impact on the endgame and it’s so frustrating.

I would have loved a Mass Effect 3-esque readiness system for Inquisition.  All of those agents you collect?  They’re war assets and play an important part of the game instead of just shaving 5% time off of a war table mission.  You choose Celene over Gaspard?  It gets you more political power and pull and Josephine will get some special bonus.  But what if you choose Gaspard over Celene?  Sure you fuck Ferelden over in the long run but damn will that relationship bolster your ground forces and siege equipment.  It could even show in Skyhold where if you choose Celene you get (even more) nobles around, more merchant stalls, more politically-savvy war table operations  and then with Gaspard there are more soldiers, more training areas set up, siege equipment set up around the castle, ready to defend it and more power-based, aggressive war table operations.  And with that choice you have to choose which you think will benefit the Inquisition more at that point.  Think of the ramifications it could have had on the battle in the Arbor Wilds?!  You recruited the Blades of Hessarian?  Look, there they are, fighting for their Herald!  You keep Bull in the Ben-Hassrath?  Hey look, you gotta nice sized group fighting for you.  Hey look, there are your Grey Warden allies you didn’t banish from Orlais!  Hell, you even get some of the Dalish you helped in the Exalted Planes fighting for you and wait!  Is that Fairbanks over there, leading some of his best?

The possibilities for a system like that were virtually endless and Bioware dropped the ball on it.  But for now, we’ll always have Origins.

the boy that stood by the sea 1/3

Killian has been a part-time carer for Henry Cassidy for nearly five years now, over which time he has come to appreciate and value the balance it’s brought to his mostly tumultuous existence. But when Neal remarries and brings someone new into their lives, he finds his precarious peace about to be disturbed forever. All he knows is this - no matter what happens, somebody has to fight for Henry’s happiness.

(Which may well make Emma Swan the best damn thing that ever happens to them.)

Captain Cobra Swan. Loosely based on Henry James’ ‘What Maisie Knew’.


A/N: Henry af. CS af. Captain Cobra Swan af. this has literally been bursting at the edge of my consciousness for ~weeks~.
Rating: T
Warnings: slight tw for.. certainly not abuse, but perhaps what some could delicately consider dubious treatment of a child. some parents don’t always get it right, even when they desperately want to. 

now, on we go! 

This is just like Neal.

“You don’t understand,” Killian tries to reason, “I’m not even supposed to be here, I have the week off. Henry’s father is supposed to be picking him up today.”

“Yet, as you can see — Henry is still here, and it is well past the end of the school day.”

It’s his sodding week off, and of course it only takes two days for his cell to light up with the familiar number from Hopper’s Elementary with a receptionist on the other side demanding to know why nobody has come to pick up Henry Cassidy after the final ring of the bell. Killian had jetted down there as fast as the Boston traffic would allow, but he only has his bicycle and there’s no chance in hell he’s letting Henry on it without a helmet. Not to mention he has a shift starting in thirty minutes and Neal still won’t answer his bloody phone. He’s probably at work and has completely forgot about the basic parental responsibility expected of him, he usually spaces when it comes to Henry if Killian isn’t around, but he’s still his father. There are certain things you don’t just forget — and Killian only started looking after the boy as a favour to an old friend with a busy professional schedule.

That was five years ago. Becoming an on-off live-in nanny for half of his income had never been the plan. Yet, here he is.

“Miss Blanchard,” he begs, “I’m on my way to work, all I have is my bike. I can’t take him. There has to be some other solution.”

Henry’s small hands begin to play with Killian’s fingers resting at his side as he hums quietly to himself. His heart melts for the six-year-old, and he finds himself crouching down so he can lift the boy into his arms — it isn’t Henry’s fault, it never is. The lad is always so good about being handed around like a sack of potatoes from sitter to Killian to sitter to Dad, bearing it with a staggering patience and grace for a child his age.

As much as Killian considers Neal a friend, that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t deserve Henry, or Henry’s good favour. Killian presses a kiss to the crown of his chestnut hair.

“I wish there was something I could do, Killian. Aside from calling social services and letting them deal with it there’s very little else within my power — we only rang you because you’re Henry’s emergency contact.”

Just at that moment, as Killian is trying to furiously think his way out of the dilemma, there is a quiet knock on the classroom door before it opens to reveal the most arresting woman he has ever laid eyes on. She steps hesitantly inside.

“Uh, sorry to — um. Neal Cassidy. He sent me to get his son?”

With long, lightly curled blonde hair that falls to her waist and frames a lovely, unblemished face with fierce green eyes, Killian finds whatever response he had been about to utter to Miss Blanchard dying instantly on his tongue. She’s wearing only a simple red jacket and jeans and he struggles to identify just what it is about her that takes his breath away — he’s not entirely unused to the objective attractiveness of women, after all. On closer inspection of the storming jade of her eyes he can detect a hardness to her stare. Although her expression exudes the sheepish timidity of one having walked in on a conversation they weren’t invited to, there is some sort of mask in front of it that snaps any semblance of emotional connection. It’s difficult for him to describe. He feels as if he is merely observing an impossibly detailed artist’s impression of the human face rather than the article itself. A person with a screen in the way.

She’s beautiful.

But she’s also unfamiliar to him — and apparently she’s here for Henry.

Killian’s arms tighten around the boy protectively, who is watching the stranger with interest in his keen brown eyes.

Miss Blanchard’s response is in direct contrast to the way Killian’s hackles have raised, and blesses the newcomer with a friendly smile. “And who might you be?”

The woman shrugs awkwardly, stepping fully into the classroom. “I’m, uh. I’m his — I’m sorta like Henry’s step-mom.”

That Killian hadn’t been expecting.

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the signs based on people i know
  • aries: incredibly kind and respectful, but withdrawn. they take a long time to trust, but when they open up to you, they will be one of the most loyal friends you have ever had and one who will watch hannah montana with you at 4am. ... or they are literal trash.
  • taurus: your problematic fave. often doesn't think before opening their mouth. they're the type that makes weird noises and sends you snapchats of the ugliest face they can make. an incredible singer who falls in love deeply and fast.
  • gemini: they're terrible and rude or selfless and helpful. often a slut for BBC.
  • cancer: broadway trash. kicks their leg in the air a lot and is always a slut for tea and winged eyeliner. they're a bitch to people who they don't like and makes it very obvious that they don't like them - yet they're insecure and fragile. they talk loud and way too much. regrets fifth grade.
  • leo: one of the best people you will ever meet. incredibly loyal and there for you at all times. they can trust too easily and rush into things, but ultimately knows what they want. an amazing singer and obsessed with broadway - super creative. best person to go to concerts with. they never, ever fail to make you laugh and smile. loves steven universe and parks and rec and laughing.
  • virgo: loves blankets and flannels and makes some bomb ass puns. they have the coolest, most obscure taste in music and play an instrument. also - 10/10 eyebrows and rick astley lover.
  • libra: their eyebrows are the first thing you notice - they're fucking incredible. libras are rare and may not exist but when you know one, you know its special. they are insecure and spend a looooot of time in their room and they're really bad drivers, but they are incredibly loving and have a heated blanket obsession.
  • scorpio: they're the gossip hub. they hear everything and want to know everything. they aren't the ones to start rumors, but they won't hesitate to feed into the fire. they can be taken as rude and spiteful, but underneath it all they just want to impress and be loved by people.
  • sagittarius: quiet, but loud when excited. super friendly and says hi to everyone. can be a know-it-all, but they mean well. they get really passionate when talking about their interests. they tend to be in big friend groups, and usually try to impress when surrounded by people but are much better one on one. woke, but they hide it and you won't expect it.
  • capricorn: tumblr trash. super smart, but doesn't exactly have a work ethic whatsoever. they're really likable and pretty much everyone who meets them wants to marry them right away. insecure, but beautiful inside and out, even if they don't see it. smol bean. teaaaaaa. baaaaands. also????? POLITICS.
  • aquarius: meme-loving fuck. they have a shit ton of kinks, including lizards and the coen brothers. really intellectual and spouts philosophical ramblings out of nowhere. super quiet, but secretly controlling their loud voice at all times. always able to make you feel better and will pull an all-nighter to help you out. very nostalgic.
  • pisces: lover of aesthetics. probably runs a very popular tumblr blog. their feminist agenda is on point, and their fashion sense is goals. they go through quite a couple phases, but ultimately can make fun of said phases when all is said and done.
Johnlock in canon

Holmes and Watson are very much in love with each other and together:

First of all, let’s hear what Doyle calls them: “Sherlock and his Watson”

After knowing Watson for a week: “my dear fellow”  (A Study in Scarlet)

“My friend and partner” the whole time (eg in Red-Headed League).

After knowing each other for three years, Watson once wakes up in the “morning to find SH standing, fully dressed, by the side of [his] bed” at quarter past seven (Speckled Band). Etiquette was exceedingly important, and Holmes openly flouts convention. It is one of his most interesting traits: he does not believe in the law (cf Charles Augustus Milverton) and therefore would not have any problems with anything that opposes jurisdiction if he is convinced it is the right thing to do.

“It may be remembered that after my marriage, and my subsequent start in private practice, the very intimate relations which had existed between Holmes and myself became to some extent modified.” (Final Problem) – if you ignore the past with the marriage (see below) the only thing that remains is the “very intimate” relationship between them.  

Watson certainly is very vocal in his admiration: “the best and the wisest man whom I have ever known” (Final Problem)

The story where Holmes comes back from the dead also shows Watson’s complete devotion: “I find myself thrilling as I think of it, and feeling once more that sudden flood of joy, amazement, and incredulity which utterly submerged my mind”, “When I turned again Sherlock Holmes was standing smiling at me across my study table. I rose to my feet, stared at him for some seconds in utter amazement, and then it appears that I must have fainted for the first and the last time in my life.” (Empty House)

Now to a very conclusive piece of evidence: they are being attacked by a criminal: “In an instant he had whisked out a revolver from his breast and had fired two shots. I felt a sudden hot sear as if a red-hot iron had been pressed to my thigh. There was a crash as Holmes’s pistol came down on the man’s head. I had a vision of him sprawling upon the floor with blood running down his face while Holmes rummaged him for weapons. Then my friend’s wiry arms were round me, and he was leading me to a chair. “You’re not hurt, Watson? For God’s sake, say that you are not hurt!” It was worth a wound – it was worth many wounds – to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. For the one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as of a great brain.“ [Watson reassures him he’s fine] "He had ripped up my trousers with his pocket-knife. "You are right,” he cried with an immense sigh of relief. “It is quite superficial.” His face set like flint as he glared at our prisoner, who was sitting up with a dazed face. “By the Lord, it is as well for you. If you had killed Watson, you would not have got out of this room alive. Now, sir, what have you to say for yourself?”“ (Three Garridebs)

Do I have to comment on this? "Depth of loyalty and love”? He’s supposed to be “an automaton, a calculating-machine”.

Holmes has just drugged them with something that works exactly the same way as in “Hounds” (2.2): “The turmoil within my brain was such that something must surely snap. I tried to scream and was vaguely aware of some hoarse croak which was my own voice, but distant and detached from myself. At the same moment, in some effort of escape, I broke through that cloud of despair and had a glimpse of Holmes’s face, white, rigid, and drawn with horror–the very look which I had seen upon the features of the dead. It was that vision which gave me an instant of sanity and of strength. I dashed from my chair, threw my arms round Holmes, and together we lurched through the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves down upon the grass plot and were lying side by side, conscious only of the glorious sunshine which was bursting its way through the hellish cloud of terror which had girt us in. Slowly it rose from our souls like the mists from a landscape until peace and reason had returned…”

Aha. So he is dying, but what gives him strength is that Holmes is suffering? And the end is just ridiculously romantic.

Mere minutes later: “"You know,” I answered with some emotion, for I have never seen so much of Holmes’ heart before, “that it is my greatest joy and privilege to help you.”“ (Devil’s Foot)

No comment.

They are breaking into a criminal’s house, and are in danger of being discovered: "I felt Holmes’ hand steal into mine…” (Charles Augustus Milverton) - So when there is a threat, Holmes clearly doesn’t care about propriety, but wants to reassure the doctor instead. What would any author who writes such a scene about a man and a woman very obviously “imply”?

“the man whom above all others I revere” (Thor Bridge) - Hmm… Watson can be quite eloquent.  

But the following quotation/situation is my favourite: “It was in the year ‘95 that a combination of events, into which I need not enter, caused Mr. Sherlock Holmes and myself to spend some weeks in one of our great University towns […] It will be obvious that any details which would help the reader to exactly identify the college or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive. So painful a scandal may well be allowed to die out. With due discretion the incident itself may, however, be described, since it serves to illustrate some of those qualities for which my friend was remarkable. I will endeavour in my statement to avoid such terms as would serve to limit the events to any particular place, or give a clue as to the people concerned.” (Three Students)

Or to give a clue as to what really happened. So… Explanation:

1. In the year 1895 there were the Oscar Wilde trials, which caused a great many men who were more or less openly gay to “go on holiday” for a few months.

2. Universities were supposed to be more progressive than cities. Oscar Wilde met Robbie Ross at uni.

3. The “painful scandal” Watson is talking about here is about three students who are meant to sit a Greek exam, but one of them cheats. That’s not a scandal. Even I’ve helped another student to cheat in a Greek exam (Greek can be a horrible subject), and I’m a model student.

4. They had to flee from London because of the public awareness the spectacular trials had caused.

5. But of course Watson could not say it like that, so he had to invent a virtually new case.

Do we want to know more?

“Partly it came no doubt from his own masterful nature, which loved to dominate (…) those who were around him.” (The Hound of the Baskervilles)

But why did Sir Arthur Conan Doyle create a character who would have been imprisoned if he had been a real person and had the authorities known about his illegal preferences? An important question, and more than one point has to be considered to answer this.

Sir ACD’s Sherlock Holmes was heavily inspired by Poe’s Dupin. Poe wrote three stories about Dupin, an amateur detective living in nearly complete isolation in Paris. These stories are narrated by an unnamed narrator, probably a Briton or an American. And their relationship is quite unequivocally a romantic one. Here parts of the first story, The Murders in Rue Morgue:

“Our first meeting was at an obscure library […] where the accident of our both being in search of the same very rare and very remarkable volume brought us into closer communion. We saw each other again and again […] I was astonished, too, at the vast extent of his reading; and, above all, I felt my soul enkindled within me by the wild fervor, and the vivid freshness of his imagination […] I felt that the society of such a man would be to me a treasure beyond price; and this feeling I frankly confided to him. It was at length arranged that we should live together during my stay in the city; […] I was permitted to be at the expense of renting, and furnishing in a style which suited the rather fantastic gloom of our common temper […] Had the routine of our life at this place been known to the world, we should have been regarded as madmen—although, perhaps, as madmen of a harmless nature. Our seclusion was perfect. We admitted no visitors. […] We existed within ourselves alone. It was a freak of fancy in my friend (for what else shall I call it?) to be enamored of the Night for her own sake; and into this bizarrerie, as into all his others, I quietly fell; giving myself up to his wild whims with a perfect abandon […]”

So… I do not think that I have to explain all that much. The so-called subtext is not even subtext here. Paris was – due to the Napoleonic Laws – known as a place where is was possible to have a homosexual affair in relative safety. So it is reasonable to say that Dupin and his nameless friend were indeed lovers.

Now, Sir ACD chose to take those two characters and their flat and – with some minor alterations – wrote his stories about Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson living at 221b Baker Street in London. His characters are based on two men having a physical relationship with each other, and although why he chose to do this, nobody knows, it is a fact. You could make more of this argument, but I think it is enough at this point.

Sir ACD, the upright Victorian moralist gentleman, hated Sherlock Holmes. He told an actor he may “marry him, murder him, or do anything he liked with him”, which not only shows that marriage and death are essentially the same for Sherlock Holmes, but also – and more importantly here – expresses his disdain for his own creation.

I said I was going to talk about Oscar Wilde. Wilde was born in 1854 (the year of SH’s birth – what a coincidence) and represents a type of decadent man known as the dandy. Holmes is a Bohemian, which was considered about as decadent as dandyism, and their lives follow similar patterns. Interestingly enough, Dorian Gray and The Sign of Four were commissioned during the same dinner by the same editor, and it can be said that the two authors were competitors. Wilde, however, was probably the more popular person, and I believe Sir ACD was somewhat jealous of him. Oscar Wilde’s trials are constantly alluded to in 1895 Sherlock Holmes stories, by the way… 

I mentioned above that he hated Sherlock Holmes. But how do these two things fit? Sir ACD wanted a good reason to hate Holmes. There is the expression “to laugh up one’s sleeve”, I personally I am of the opinion that is precisely what he did.


Best witchy movie ever! I was tearing in the end ;( But this is a Japanese movie called The Witch of the West is Dead (2008).

It’s about a little girl named Mai who stays over at her grandma’s cottage because she had trouble at school. Her grandma is a witch from England (a hedge witch to be exact), but she speaks Japanese and married a Japanese man so that’s why she’s living in Japan. Her grandma teaches Mai witchy things because Mai also wants to be a witch like her :) It’s cute.

I really wished I knew this movie existed before! But I love it so much, even the ending, I want to save quotes from the movie. But this movie is like a witch teaching an apprentice basic little things about life. I think all witches should watch this <3

You can watch the full movie here with English subs:

One group of FR users: This is the lazies piece of shit to ever be released. My dragons shan’t be tainted by it.

Another Group of FR users: It’s the best thing ever! ON ALL THE DRAGONS IT GOES!

The last group of FR users: It’s not that bad. May or may not use for a dragon or two.

Everybody on the site: why the fuck is it a gem gene.

anonymous asked:

Wtf did yamori torture Naki? Why?D:

All signs point to the fact that yes, Yamori’s sadism extended even to Naki, though he seems to have actually cared for the kid as well. We don’t have any explicit statement in the manga about it from Naki and we aren’t show any flashbacks to their time together in the manga, so things have to be pieced together from other sources.

The most explicit is a scenario in Jail. The lovely Michi was kind enough to provide a translation for us here [x] but basically Naki will walk Rio around Aogiri’s 11th ward base and reminisce disturbingly fondly on all the ways his “Big Bro” physically hurt him in various places.

There are also pages from the calendar, like the one where Naki gifts Yamori a coupon to hit him. 

The holes in Naki’s ears are also the result of bites from Yamori - Tokage (the torturer who Yamori attacked in order to escape) has the same holes in his ear as a result of Jason’s attack.

That said, it seems that Yamori took Naki in off the streets when Naki was kind of a wild, directionless thing, and that Yamori did actually want Naki to grow into something better.

But Yamori was seriously messed up by his stay in Cochlea - he understands all of his emotions through this sadistic desire he took on in order to survive his torture there.

And Naki is very impressionable and clearly imprinted very strongly onto Yamori. He genuinely loved and adored the guy. In the Omake’s he is shown writing a letter to his Big Bro up in Heaven, which he knows will get there because he addressed it to “Heaven.” It’s kind of amazing Naki survived as long as he did before Yamori took him in…

It’s a very twisted sort of relationship, for sure.

As to why? Because some of the big themes in TG are the cycles of abuse and trauma and the complexities of abusive relationships. This got long and depressing and serious, so I’m throwing it behind the cut -

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the boy that stood by the sea, 2/3

Killian has been a part-time carer for Henry Cassidy for nearly five years now, over which time he has come to appreciate and value the balance it’s brought to his mostly tumultuous existence. But when Neal remarries and brings someone new into their lives, he finds his precarious peace about to be disturbed forever. All he knows is this - no matter what happens, somebody has to fight for Henry’s happiness.

(Which may well make Emma Swan the best damn thing that ever happens to them.)

Captain Cobra Swan. Loosely based on Henry James’ ‘What Maisie Knew’.

ao3 ||  part 1

A/N: this chapter is CS af. you have been warned. thank you so much to everyone who has liked/reblogged so far, you guys all help the words come faster <3 I’ve never done this before, but the lovely @the-reason-to-sail-home asked to be tagged when I updated, and I also tentatively tag @piratesails + @mossandmushroom because I think you may also want to know! if it’s annoying, holler at me; or alternatively if you would like to be tagged but aren’t, holler at me also. I hope you guys enjoy this one!
Rating: T
Warnings: minor character death and also a slight tw for.. certainly not abuse, but perhaps what some could delicately consider dubious treatment of a child. some parents don’t always get it right, even when they desperately want to.

now, owards! 

By the time Killian throws open the door to his apartment, his entire body is thrumming with fury.

“What sort of time do you call this?”

He feels a modicum of his ire drift away when he realises it’s not Neal standing on the other side, but Emma, looking suitably chastened as she stares up at him through her lashes. The curve of her mouth is turned downwards, a crease tugging her eyebrows together, but Killian refuses to let it affect him. He is pissed. And he has a damn good reason to be.

“I call it ten o’clock at night and three days late,” Emma says, wincing a little as she does.

“Good,” Killian hisses, “then at least we’re on the same bloody page.”

Neal was supposed to come pick up Henry three days ago. Instead, the pair of them had been met with a radio silence from Cassidy senior and Killian struggling to explain why they were unpacking Henry’s suitcase for the third night in a row, only to optimistically repack it together the next day. He had no idea what to tell Henry, who took it all in with cryptic looks at the door and a rigid focus on his play. Killian has no idea what he’s really been thinking.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Emma keeps her voice low, although she is at something of a loss seeing as he makes no move to invite her inside, and folds her arms across her chest. She looks as contrite as he’s ever seen her. “It was a friend of mine and Neal’s, he had a bit of a crisis. Well, three crises I guess.”

Finally Killian relents, pushing the door open wider so Emma can step over the threshold.

His irritation hasn’t waned. “There is always a crisis with Neal,” he grouses. Always some excuse, always unavoidable circumstances that aren’t his fault. Half the time Killian wonders if he even realises how little he ever takes the blame for. “You know what would have been nice?” he continues in a clipped tone. “A phone call. Or a text message. Or an answer to any of the numerous phone calls or text messages I sent him.”

Emma leans forward to peer around Killian as if Henry might magically materialize. Instead she’s met with the dimmed corridor of his apartment, light from the kitchen casting long shadows through the doorway across the laminated floor.

“Can I take him now?”

Killian bristles, glancing over his shoulder at the door to Henry’s bedroom. “He caught the flu yesterday morning,” he informs her, keeping his voice scarcely above a murmur lest they accidentally wake the boy. “You’d be better off letting him sleep.”

Emma bites her lip. “He can sleep in my car.”

Killian shakes his head urgently. “Emma, he has a temperature of well over a hundred. What he needs right now is some undisturbed rest.”

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lifespossibilities  asked:

Alright can you give me a play by play of knk and who they are and what they're about bc I keep seeing them on my dash and i feel them pulling on my soul but I need a guide can u help a friend out

in short, they are the #1 example of don’t judge a book by it’s cover: these boys look so tall and dark and handsome and intimidating right? turns out they’re all a bunch of super extra nerds with the cutest aegyo and high pitched voices and loudest laughs ever. 

S T A N  K N K

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Early morning thoughts. 

Sometimes I really suffer with my characters. Even though we should distance ourselves OOCly from them, that we’re practically just actors playing roles (characters), I - and I think the majority of roleplayers - can’t help but add a little bit of ourselves, certain aspects of our experiences and personalities, into them. Mostly it’s accidental, but definitely natural. We have characters that live lives nothing like ours, but certain personality traits are little pieces of us we’ve added to give them that ‘spark’ of something personal and familiar. I think we tend to enjoy characters that are extensions of ourselves in some way, it’s how we recognize the us in them.

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The Signs As Things My Grandma Has Said

Aries: I am the best cook that ever existed. fuck chef ramsey

Taurus: I will date all the men I want too. Im not dead yet. Fuck your opionion.

Gemini: She totally screwed me over, like who tf does she think I am?

Cancer: I may not always like you, but i’ll always love you

Leo: I deserve to be married to a rich ass guy. Someone bring me Mario Lopez

Virgo: If you two don’t shut up i’m going to tie you to the legs of the table.

Libra: Damn, my eyelashes look good for an old lady.

Scorpio: I think i’m too old for sex.. but then again I might not be.

Sagittarius: Am I right? Or am I right? I’m right. 

Capricorn: I will rip a hole through her.

Aquarius: I rather stay in bed then have conversations today. Thank you.

Pisces: I wanna try weed