maybe i do i really dunno

do you ever see mutuals’ posts about personal things/etc and you really want to help but you don’t know what to say—

anonymous asked:

So do you two get visions of the future? You know, from the laser experiment. Like, do you see colors and blurry images?

“UM … SOMETIMES? NOT AS OFTEN NOW, THOUGH! SOMETIMES WE SEE STUFF IN DREAMS.”

“kinda hard to tell when it’s visions and when it’s just dreams.”

“YES, ONE TIME WE BOTH DREAMED ABOUT THE WHOLE HOUSE TURNING INTO CANDY BUT I DON’T THINK THAT ONE WAS A VISION.”

“dunno. maybe mom got really excited about her baking.”

“SANS, MOM COULDN’T BAKE AN ENTIRE HOUSE! … COULD SHE?”

“Well, it’s not something I’ve ever attempted, but …”

“WAIT, COULD YOU ACTUALLY DO THAT? IS THAT GOING TO HAPPEN? WAS THAT DREAM A VISION?”

“mmmmmm …”

“SANS, STOP DROOLING!”

anonymous asked:

unpopular opinion: i actually enjoy marble zone. It's not my favourite zone but it's slowness combined with the head bombiness of its music kinda creates a unique feeling for me. i dunno maybe it's the same reason i enjoy other slower paced games like colours

Marble Zone always felt jarring to me personally.

I mean, you get the speediness and vibrancy of GHZ and then once you get to MZ, it’s a slower, less vibrant affair. I really do think it’s Sonic 1′s weakest zone.

Captain Steve Rogers, Lovecraftian Horror

Title: The Miskatonic Project
Rating: PG-13 for horror themes, death
Summary: Abraham Erskine may have invented something new with the Serum – or maybe he re-created something very old. Something…Elder.
Notes: I should be working on like three other fanfics but I had a TERRIBLE DREAM this afternoon and anyway this only took about half an hour to write.

***

Steve came out of the Vita-Ray machine…different. 

Of course he looked different – taller, thickly muscled, skin gleaming. But it wasn’t the change in his appearance so much as the…sensation people felt around him. Howard claimed not to feel it, and Erskine died before he could weigh in. Peggy felt it, but not in the way others did. To her, he seemed otherworldly, but like an angel or a religious vision – comforting under a layer of unreality. She even liked the strange black pupils he’d developed, so big and dark you could hardly see the whites of his eyes at all. 

Others, however…. 

She didn’t see him pull the Hydra agent out of the submarine after Erskine’s assassination. Only three people did – a cab driver, a little boy, and the boy’s mother. The cab driver wouldn’t say a word, and the boy’s mother stuttered and stammered so badly they finally gave up. The little boy just said, “Well, he got him,” and looked admiringly at Steve. 

Steve wasn’t wet, but the submarine lay on the deck of the pier, and the man next to it was dead, a rictus of horror on his face. 

(There is a readmore below! Read more!)

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Help Wanted, Alternate Ending

In a world where Ford’s interview took place a little later…

“Did you think we wouldn’t notice?” Holster scoffs, crossing his arms tightly against his chest and tapping his foot impatiently. “Did you think that just ‘cos we’re graduating soon that we wouldn’t care? Or that we’d be too distracted to pay attention to what was going on between you two?”

Dex and Nursey share a worried glance, sat on the Haus couch, pressed unnecessarily close. Dex swallows. They were doing so well at hiding it, too. And it was still new. He didn’t want pressure from the team potentially ruining the good thing they had going. Especially not their captains, who had a penchant for being… intrusive… even if they had good intentions.  

Ransom sighs, standing next to Holster, playing the disappointed father to Holster’s angry one. “We thought… you were better than this,” he chastises, shaking his head.

Dex furrows his brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

“It means that we saw what happened at breakfast,” Holster admonishes.

Dex and Nursey glance at each other, confused. Breakfast?

“And the flyers. The ones strewn across the pathway next to river quad,” Ransom adds. “Don’t think we didn’t put the pieces together.”

“Yo, I don’t really know what you guys are talking about,” Nursey explains, “but I think you might have misinterpre—”

“You’re fighting again,” Holster concludes, sighing. “I thought you’d gotten past this, you know. You guys were getting so much better. What happened?”

Dex has to cover his mouth with his fist to stop himself from laughing, and he can tell from the glint in Nursey’s eye that Nursey feels the exact same way. Fighting? No, they’re doing quite the opposite. Hell, they’re literally sitting so that their hands are touching – on a three-person couch no less.

“D-men stick together,” Ransom raptures. “And I understand that the closeness that Holster and I have going might seem a little hard to live up to—” Nursey raises an incredulous eyebrow at Dex, “—but that’s not what we want. You guys don’t have to be best friends, we just want you to at least tolerate each other. The team needs it.”

“What happened at breakfast, guys?” Holster asks. “We can work through this.”

“Uhh… nothing?” Dex tries. “What do you mean?”

“You normally sit next to Chowder at breakfast,” Ransom states, “but you didn’t. Because Nursey was there.” He raises an accusing eyebrow at the two of them.

“No…” Dex says slowly. “I didn’t sit next to Chowder because Tango needed help with his CS homework, so I sat next to him. And also because me, you and Whiskey needed to be in the same comic panel so we could do the whole ‘soft same’ bit—you know what, never mind.”

Holster huffs, clearly disbelieving. “Sure. And the flyers? You just dropped them by accident? Or did you throw them in frustration because you two were fighting?” he accuses.

Dex squints. “Well, you’re not totally wrong, but…”

“Look,” Ransom says, “we get it. You guys are different people with different outlooks on life. And maybe, I dunno, Dex feels like Nursey doesn’t really respect that.”

“Um, not really?” Dex says.

“Yeah, and maybe Nursey feels like Dex doesn’t respect his perspective,” Holster adds, glancing at Ransom.

“That’s not—” Nursey tries to interject.

“Well maybe Dex feels like Nursey doesn’t really know him as well as he thinks he does,” Ransom huffs, stepping closer.

“Maybe Nursey just wants what’s best for Dex,” Holster scoffs, crossing his arms and looking away. “Maybe Nursey thinks that Dex doesn’t believe in himself enough and that he gives up without even trying—”

“Maybe Dex thinks that this isn’t any of Nursey’s business!” Ransom yells. “Maybe Dex can make his own decisions about his future!”

“Maybe Nursey knows that Dex is better than this!” Holster spits. “Maybe he knows that Dex can be anything he wants if he tried!”

“Well maybe Dex doesn’t know what he wants!” Ransom shouts, desperately. “Maybe the only thing he knows he wants is that he wants to spend more time with his best bro while he figures it all out!”

Holster swallows. “Yeah?” he says, softly.

Ransom nods, holding back tears. “Yeah. Nursey and Dex… they’re bros, bro.”

Holster sniffs. “Dude…”

A door slams closed. Ransom and Holster turn to find the couch empty. Outside, through the window, Dex and Nursey sprint away from the Haus as fast as humanly possible, their hands tightly clasped.

“Rude,” Ransom huffs. “We were in a middle of a d-man sesh.”

“I know, right.”

  • Me: I really love Doctor Who but I don't know, I feel like I've been going off of it. Maybe I'm just getting older? Is it the writing? I dunno I might just watch this one episode and see how I feel from there
  • Bill Potts: *Exists*
  • Me: 👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌there👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my self 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠOOOOOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit

anonymous asked:

Hey so i read one of your works on Ao3 and it was super adorable and i loved it, it was about stiles and derek sharing a broom closet of an apartment in nyc and cuddling thier way through their issues with eachother and then you wrote a hashtag epilogue, and i can't stop thinking about how much i wanted the epilogue to be another story so i figured i'd ask, my names scarletwaters on Ao3, ok bye and thank you if you decide to write it :)

little spoon

I had given absolutely ZERO thought to writing a sequel to this, and then I read your message and the ideas started flooding in. Go figure.

also on ao3

*

Being Derek’s boyfriend goes surprisingly well for a whole year. They move out of the tiny “apartment” into a slightly less tiny apartment. They continue to spoon; they become spooning masters; they are the gods of spooning. Stiles gets the best sleep of his life, and so does Derek. The non-sleeping aspect of the whole dating thing takes a bit more time to iron out, sure, but they get there. Slowly but surely, they figure out how to hold hands on the couch while watching Netflix without getting weird about it. They figure out, to their mutual relief, that endearments weird them both out, but there are other little things they both like even if they’d never admit it on pain of death, such as forehead kisses. They figure out how to do the whole shower sex thing without serious injury. Stiles also finds out Derek is awesome at cooking, when he can be assed to do it. Stiles figures out a lot of very creative ways to motivate him.  

All in all, awesome.

Then…. well, then It happens.

It’s been about a year and three months when, one day, Stiles happens to see Derek coming out of a jewelry store.

He wasn’t following Derek or anything, he wants the record to be very clear on that; it’s just, they were going to meet up at the Chinese restaurant on the corner for dinner, and Stiles got there early. Usually Stiles doesn’t arrive early anywhere ever, but this time one of his classes got canceled at the last minute and he suddenly had all this spare time, and so he went ahead and snagged them a table at the restaurant.

That’s where he is when it happens, just people-watching out the window and contemplatively sipping his oolong. That’s when the door to the jewelry store across the street opens and Derek comes out, head down, busy tucking a suspicious little black box into his inner jacket pocket, and Stiles spits out his tea all over the table because what the fuck.

Keep reading

Shance Tumblr AU

…….why does my brain want to do this instead of the stuff I should actually be doing…..
———————
Pidge jolted up from her homework to the sound of her roommate screaming followed by a loud thunk and a crash.

She popped her head into the doorway of said man’s room, raising an eyebrow at the male currently sitting on the bed, jaw dropped, eyes wide, staring at where his phone had hit the wall.

“Lance? Dude, you okay?” Pidge prompted carefully, as her friend was seemingly in shock.

“He followed me back. Oh my god.” Lance whispered, seemingly in disbelief. Pidge blinked.

“What?”

“On Tumblr. That artist blog I told you about?” Lance hissed, still in shock.

Pidge’s eyebrow went higher. “The one you don’t stop talking about? The guy with the scar and the white hair?” Lance nodded frantically.

“I- I wrote a small fic based on an idea he had, tagged him in it, and yesterday he reblogged and liked it and I woke up and looked at my notifications and it was right there?!? How the fuck?!?” Lance’s voice rose in volume until he was practically yelling.

Pidge’s cat, Green, mewed and patted Lance’s lap, ears pricked curiously. Lance’s own cat, Blue, was used to Lance’s screeching and was peacefully napping on the Cuban male’s pillow.

“Lance. Chill.” Pidge deadpanned, moving over to scoop up her cat from the red faced man currently rolling on his bed screeching in a mixture of what she guessed was happy shock, probably. She also moved over to pick up the discarded phone, peeking at the notifications.

Yup. Famous art blog ShiroTheHero was definitely following BlueLionLance. No wonder Lance was practically having a stroke. The guy’s art was pretty good, as her own blog followed him too and was really only there for the gay stuff.

She glanced back over at her friend. “At least you didn’t throw your phone out the window screaming ‘I’m gay’ again.” She commented, setting the blue cased phone next to Blue on the pillow.

Lance rolled back over from where he was screaming into another pillow. “He posted a selfie! And he’s really hot! I couldn’t help it!” He wailed, pouting.

Pidge snorted in amusement. “I saw the picture too, and I didn’t have the same reaction as you. You’re literally the living embodiment of bisexual drama. Glad I’m not as gay as you, thirsty boy.” She teased.

Lance squinted at the tiny woman. “Pidge, you’re the gayest little shit I know besides Keith.” He said seriously, getting a huge grin from said lesbian.

“I know. Now quit the gay fangirling, I’ve got homework to finish for college finals and I can’t concentrate over the sound of you screaming your bisexual little heart out.” She scolded, before turning and leaving the room, Green still tucked in her arms.

Lance rolled his eyes and checked his phone again, smiling at the little notification.

ShiroTheHero is now following BlueLionLance
—————————–
Tbh I do the same thing as Lance whenever a popular blog follows me or likes/reblogs anything I post. I really do scream and chuck my phone at the wall in shock, I dunno why, it’s just a reaction I have??? Eh. Well, hope you liked this little Shance Drabble! :3 (I’m calling it the Tumblr AU, should I make more maybe?)

So last night I was thinking about some of those “humans are space orcs” posts and I couldn’t help but think, what if aliens have the same problem of having mental illnesses that humans have. Only on their planet, it’s really rare and the aliens who are diagnosed are not expected to go to work or school unless they want to and are supported by friends/family/the alien government.
And they come to our planet and discover we have all of these mental illnesses, some of which we know nothing about, and are amazed to find the mentally ill working just as hard as nuerotypicals.
They are shocked and can’t believe that humans with disabilities (mental or otherwise) are expected to do just as much as the healthy humans.
And then humans start getting on spaceships with them and they never know if the humans have some sort of disability or not because all humans act the same whether their healthy or not since it’s expected of them.
They can’t believe that humans have chemical imbalances and other humans taunt them for it and basically say there’s nothing wrong with them. Because on their planet, if someone has depression or anxiety they give them everything they need. They can’t believe that anxiety prone humans go to conventions, they are amazed that depressed humans just put on a happy face and continue to work, they become flabbergasted that humans with schizophrenia and ADD take medicine that makes them completely different just so they can continue to work.
I don’t know, I really feel like some aliens would be appalled to see the way we treat other humans with illnesses and would be amazed that so many of us continue to do everything in our power to fight our illnesses and continue to human.
They would be so amazed that we were so resilient, even with intrusive thoughts and dissociation.

But maybe it’s just me. I dunno, that’s my contribution to the humans are space orcs.

  • Medic: So let's start by talking about the emotions you're feeling right now.
  • Spy: Stabbing.
  • Medic: Stabbing isn't really an emotion. It's more of an activity. Which I hope you do not do to me. See, an emotion is more of a feeling.
  • Spy: Well, maybe I feel stabby.
COOKING WITH THE VILLAINOUS CREW!

COOKING WITH THE CREW!

Villainous x Reader HCs!

A/N: So @notjustclones is someone I look up to a whole lot (if you like the clone wars go check them out!) and they’ve done some stuff like this and I thought it was a cute idea!! So here is the crew cooking with their significant others (other than 5.0.5, who I always feel is more of a friend or pet, but honestly it’s however you wanna think about it). I know I have requests pending, but maybe this’ll satisfy a bunch of you just requesting characters with no story? I dunno! I just had to do this!!!

Dr. Flug:
-This adorable little bagged genius is actually a decent cook once he calms down.
-He really loves baking with you, and sharing a nice treat once the sweets are done!
-You two flirt back and forth, but in the most nerdy way possible. (i.e. “Man! Once these are done they’ll be the second sweetest thing in this house.” Or “Careful, the oven is almost as hot as you are.”)
-He drops things a lot, being a clumsy and rather nervous scientist. You enjoy watching Flug if he doesn’t notice the timer is about to go off because he jumps a bit at the sudden loud ringing.
-Flug definitely has an apron with the molecular structure of chocolate printed on it. He also got you an apron with a cute little thing on the front too!


5.0.5:
-What he lacks in cooking skills, he makes up for in pure enthusiasm.
-anytime you bake bread or cake or something of the like he is completely amazed at how the dough or batter can become this light fluffy thing! It’s like magic to him.
-he really likes when you let him lick the mixing spoon
-usually just sits/ walks around the kitchen waiting for you to be done cooking so he can eat or play with you


Demencia:
-usually forgets to preheat the oven
-her knife safety skills are atrocious, yet somehow she’s always fine
-she doesn’t especially like baking, just you, so she deals with one to get the other
-also enjoys getting to lick the mixing spoon
-anything that will not produce sweets she finds especially boring, so normal cooking isn’t something that happens often. She will gladly just wait for you to finish dinner.
-typically she’ll go watch TV in the other room or dance around wildly to loud music with you while waiting for you to be done cooking
-once the food is done, she’ll run in, hug and kiss out out of appreciation, then quickly grab food.

Black Hat:
-Cooking? No. He doesn’t do that. Don’t ask.
-….Fine, but only because he doesn’t completely hate you.
-This guy can surprisingly handle himself in the kitchen. He knows where everything is and how to use it, but that doesn’t mean he likes it!!
-Black Hat doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth. If he does begrudgingly agree to cook with you, it will usually be meat.
-That being said, he will occasionally stir something for you, or preheat an oven when you’re baking multiple things at once, but he’ll never admit to it.
-If you’re baking or he isn’t interested in cooking, he will still sit in the kitchen with you, filling out paperwork or brainstorming ideas for new products. Sometimes he’ll even tell stories about destroying heroes and cities and such.
-sometimes, if no one else is in the mansion, he’ll come up behind you while you’re chopping food or what have you, and wrap his arms around you from behind, lay a head on your shoulder and say nothing other than perhaps a soft grumpy hum, as if to say, “See? I am showing my love for you, you are welcome, also this time together is…nice.” Then he’ll stalk off without a word, grabbing a binder of paperwork to put back in his desk.

HARRY STYLES is hurtling towards chart domination in the UK and US this week with his critically acclaimed debut album.

But as he emerges to greet me — dressed head to toe in black — from the back of a trailer parked behind the venue of his first ever solo show in North London, it’s clear he is in a reflective mood.

Security have just ordered us not to move more than two metres from the modest caravan — where his band members are chilling after sound check — to avoid the ­hundreds of fans gathered nearby.

It’s for their own safety, of course. Who knows the reaction if they knew just a fence and four guards stand between them and the new prince of rock ’n’ roll?

The ONE DIRECTION superstar shrugs it off — this level of hysteria has become a commonplace part of his day-to-day life.

My first interview with the band, in the X Factor canteen seven years ago, took place as a number of teenage girls were climbing on the roof.

It was a sign of things to come.

This is the first time I have seen Harry since 1D went on an ­indefinite break at the end of 2015 and there’s a lot to talk about.

Keep reading

7

So I dunno if any of you know, but I enjoy Undertale quite a bit. I dunno if I’d consider myself a part of its fandom but I love the game and I really love the characters in it, so maybe? :/ Regardless, I’ve been wanting to draw some of the characters for some time, so I did! So this is basically just a big sketch dump of the Undertale characters, and me trying to get a grasp on how I’d draw them. Undyne, Frisk, and Asgore are by far my favorite characters, but all of the characters in the game are very much lovable. C: If I’m not careful I might start doing mini headcanons for these characters too. >.>

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy! C:

Being gender fluid/flux can get confusing

Me when I’m fully a man: I dunno. Maybe I don’t belong in the non binary community? Maybe I should just not bother them and stop intruding on their space? Don’t I have a binary gender? It feels like I do.

Me when I’m fully other gender: I dunno. Maybe I shouldn’t talk to agender people like I understand? I mean it certainly feels like I’ve got a gender even though it’s not a binary one.

Me when I’m fully agender: I dunno. Maybe I should stop hanging around the trans man and genderqueer communities? I mean I really don’t have a gender and being associated with gendered stuff makes me uncomfortable?

Me when I’m anywhere in between: Hello everyone! It’s me, your friendly neighborhood queer person! I love all my communities so much! What? You say I look too binary to be here? Screw you. I’m going everywhere! I’ve got pride and I don’t care who knows it.

Cold Nights.

// Here’s this smol little bean of a short story.

Yes, this is going to be short.

Sorry not sorry (but yeah it’s going to be really short, so sorry about that)

Title: Cold Nights.

Warnings: Non.

Rating: Fluffy fluff.

Need to know: Y/n is a part of the Maniax. //

 

“You can say you’re not cold, but I can see you shivering from all the way over here.”

Y/n lays down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. All of the rest of the group members are gathered around, talking about their newest plans.

“So, I was thinkin’ we take out a bunch of old people. Maybe a bingo game night, an old person’s home…” Jerome rolls his eyes at this.

“Oh, snore. But, I do like how your thinking.” He sits up from his spot on the ground, and eyes y/n. “What do you think, y/n?” Her gaze meets his, and a chill runs up her spine. She shivers, sitting up.

“I wasn’t really paying attention,” she says, still shaking from the cold.

“Well, dollface, youth, or elders?” He asks. She wraps her arms around herself to try and keep warm, and shrugs.

“I dunno. Youth? They’re the newer generation…they’d probably make more of an impact. Assuming you’re talking about killing them.” Jerome cocks his head, and his eyes narrow in concentration.

“Are you cold?” He asks, moving forward. Y/n stares up at him, shaking her head.

“No. I’m not.” His head tilts more as a smile spreads across his face, and he shakes his head.

“You can say you’re not cold, but I can see you shivering from all the way over here.” He murmurs, moving forward slowly. Y/n shakes her head, a small smile spreading across her face.

“Why do you care?” She asks, pulling her knees to her chest. He shrugs, slinking forward towards her, his head down. He looks up at her through his lashes, a smile spreading across his face. He raises his eyebrows, stopping when he gets in front of her.

“You know, you could be warmer.” Y/n cocks an eyebrow, scooting closer in the corner of the couch.

“What…? What do you mean?” She asks, her gaze traveling across his body, looking for any possible threats. His smile turns into a goofy, lighthearted one, and he holds out his hands in a hug.

“Come here,” he says giddily. Her eyebrows furrow, and she tilts her head.

“What?”

“Come here. We can cuddle,” he says.

“What are yo-” Before y/n can finish what she’s saying, Jerome tackles her, rolling them off of the couch and pulling her in a tight embrace. “Wha-J-Jerome!” She shouts, pushing against his chest to try and get away. This sends Jerome into a fit of giggles. Y/n huffs and stays still, her face bright red. Not only because Jerome is pulling this off in front of everybody, but the fact that his body is actually really warm. The heat that spreads from him to her starts to make y/n tired, and her eyes close. She buries her face in his neck, causing Jerome to freeze in shock, his eyes widening. She yawns softly, and Jerome curls closer to her, wrapping his arms around y/n. He sighs contently, and looks up at everyone else, an expression of pure childish bliss on his face.

“Let’s talk about this later…” He murmurs, stroking y/n’s hair gently. “I didn’t think she’d actually…you know,” Barbara rolls her eyes.

“I don’t think it surprised anyone else,” she remarks, standing up and smacking Tabitha on the shoulder. “Come on you guys, let’s give these kiddos some privacy.”

On Hanzo’s bow in cases

I’ve noticed a trend in Hanzo centered fanfics (I’m looking at you McHanzo peeps) lately that Hanzo in incognito situations would travel with his bow in a guitar case in some cases stormbow is disassembled in the case which is really the only way it could possibly fit. I’m not nitpicking anyone who writes it like that or really trying to put anyone down but as an archer myself I don’t think a lot of people realize how utterly massive Hanzo’s bow really would be .

I’ve noticed in some fanarts his bow seems small as well but not everyone knows that it would be massive or maybe it’s just a style choice I dunno man artists you do you I’m just rambling.

this is a picture of my recurve bow next to my guitar I am only 5 feet tall and have a draw weight of 25 lbs. 


Hanzo at 5′8 would have atleast an extra 6 inches on his bow possibly more as he is a sniper and as you can see my tiny bow for my tiny self dwarfs my guitar

The range from bows comes from the type of arrows (long light arrows go the farthest with pretty big fletching)and the draw weight my puny bow has a max range of 150 yards if i use lightweight arrows with the right kind of fletching. Based on Hanzo’s massive arms and chest his draw weight could be well over 100 lbs. (my 56 year old out of shape dad has a draw of 75 lbs, granted that is on a compound bow which are a whole other beast)

Hanzo with his massive bow most likely massive draw weight and most likely extremely long and lightweight arrows could easily do 300 yards (i was told the rule of thumb is +100 yards per 25lbs draw weight)

back on track though if his bow was to fit in any case it would probably be a cello case or at least a modified guitar case.

Hanzo carrying Stormbow in an instrument case is one of my favorite collective things in the fandom though. this is just something I’ve noticed and decided to comment.


In the end a fic is just a fic and art is just art no hate keep doing it how you do this is made up stuff about a fictional character so anything goes