mostly i am just hacked that i have to go in at all

BTS as the Mafia + How He Met You

|||Anon asked: I really liked your mafia monsta x post and was wondering if you could do something similar for got7 and bts?|||

Got7   Monsta X   Shinee


Rap Monster/Kim Namjoon

Originally posted by https-km

  • Was a CEO of a large company when he decided to make some more money and started getting involved in shady business
  • One of the most chill leaders in the industry
  • But his easygoing personality is also one of his scariest traits as he doesn’t give a shit about killing and never thinks twice
  • That’s what gets him in trouble most of the time as he somehow always end up killing the wrong person
  • He’s so good at his job that no one even suspects that this CEO is also a mafia boss

You were the president of a rival company and had beef with him since before he even started his gang. He always wanted to persuade you to sell your company to him but you were too stubborn, so he thought that now he has a lot of skillful members maybe he could threaten you. One day he barged into your office.

“What the heck? Do you even know what knocking means?”

“Just shut up and listen to me. I’m going to give you one last chance to sell me your company and well if you don’t comply things will become ugly.”

“Kim fucking Namjoon, did you just threaten me?” you asked him pulling your gun out from under the table. “Because if you did, I swear to god…”

He didn’t plan for this turn of events and as much as he was surprised he couldn’t keep his laughter in.

“Woah, woah, Y/N. We have been friends for a long time now, haven’t we? Maybe I should have taken a different approach. How about you and me start this over by getting to know each other better?”


Park Jimin

Originally posted by biaswreckerchimchim

  • Can sweet talk people to do anything
  • That’s why he’s the best at making new allies and ties, bribing officials
  • Everyone tends to trust him quickly and he uses this for his advantage 
  • Doesn’t like getting his hands dirty and would rather talk his way out if possible
  • But when it’s not, that’s still okay with him as he can handle various kinds of weapons just as well as his tongue

You caught wind of the fact that your boss is helping the mafia in exchange for many and wanted to report him. Unfortunately Jimin got to you first. He was leaning against your car waiting for you. Before you had time to react he got your car keys and pushed you inside securing you in your seat.

“So a little bird told me that you were about to make a very stupid decision.” he told you taking out his knife and tracing the lines of your collarbone.

“I prefer not to make a mess so how about we make a deal as well?”

“I don’t need your filthy money.”

“Oh how brave! I guess I should offer you something else instead then.” he said starting the car and taking off with you in it.


Kim Taehyung

Originally posted by itsbtstuff

  • A lot of people think he’s too clumsy for this job as he tends to screw up before he even starts
  • But if it’s his lucky day he’s the 2nd most deadly man in the gang
  • His specialty - explosives
  • He likes to make a big entrance and for it to be really grand he makes all of the bomb and stuff himself
  • Enjoys the view of severed limbs spattering around, this feeling helps him realize just how amazing he his at what he does and how fascinating, strong and big his explosions are

He wanted to blow you up so bad but when you despite the short amount of time managed to catch and throw back one of his grenades he decided to have you no matter what.

“Hey, that’s not very nice!! I could have gotten hurt.” he shouted.

“Are you being serious right now?” 

“I always am. You see I got you right where I wanted to. Look around.” you looked down and saw that somehow you managed to get into his mine field.

“I like you and wouldn’t rather press this button so you have two choices, either I watch you go boom or you come with me.” he smirked.


J-Hope/Jung Hoseok

Originally posted by beatriceindre

  • Was the vice president of the company, so is now stuck with almost the same amount of work
  • He takes care of the companies legal stuff and makes sure the gangs illegal one doesn’t catch anyones’ attention
  • He’s so done with this job and would rather go on some missions to blow off some steam
  • But he’s only taken on them when it’s really necessary or when there’s not enough people
  • And that’s a shame as he’s crazy good with guns, especially long range ones, as he has been practicing every day

You made a contract with their company but somehow a they lost a hefty amount of money. Knowing that this was not a simple coincidence he decided to have a meeting with you.

“I think we have to discuss some things.” he stated.

“What do you want? I don’t have your money.”

“I never even said anything about money.” he smirked and then you understood that you told him too much before it even began. Hoseok stood up and went to your chair. He took your chin in his hands made you look at him.

“You know all of this shit makes me really tired and irritated and I wouldn’t want to take out my frustrations on you, so you better give me back all the money till evening or we will have to have a few more meetings just like this.”


Suga/Min Yoongi

Originally posted by jungsooneul

  • He’s an assassin but doesn’t like calling his job that and would rather say that he takes care of business
  • Sharp, precise, quick, silent, deadly
  • Can’t think straight when he’s tired and even managed to miss some targets (only to get them later) when he feel asleep waiting for them
  • Practices with Hoseok every single day but only because he’s the one who’s asking
  • Sometimes likes to go “hunting” at nights and you should pray that you never meet him on days like that

You searched for him because you knew he would be the only one to take your request. He looked at you from the bottom up.

“Aren’t you too young to be asking things like that?”

“Am not!”

“You sure? You’re really short.” he laughed.

“I didn’t come here to be made fun of. So will you do it? Will you kill my father?” you asked. This time he looked at you with serious eyes.

“Okay but you can keep the change.” he said handing you back all the money you gave him. You quickly turned around to catch him just before he disappeared into the darkness.

“Why?”

“Because you asked me nicely and also because I hope to see you again someday.”


Jin/Kim Seokjin

Originally posted by eatupbangtan

  • He doesn’t have a particular job in the group as he’s mostly here to make sure that the members don’t make too much trouble for themselves and other gangs
  • Knew Namjoon since high school and was asked to come help
  • The gang would most likely fall apart without him as their chill leader tends to forget his duties more often than not
  • He’s a skilled medic and that’s a very big advantage for the gang as they don’t have to go through the hassle of explaining what happened in the hospitals
  • As much as he can save you from the verge of death, medical equipment in his hands can also turn into very dangerous tools as he can kill you slowly and painfully with the poisons he makes

You were part of the gang and trained under him to treat the injured.

“I see you’re getting pretty good at this.”

“That’s because you’re the one teaching me.”

“How about I show you one more of my tricks.” he said taking you over to the medical cabinet and taking all kind of drugs out.

“Oh, I know what you’re trying to do but I’m already more than experienced in making poison.” you smirked.

“Is that so? Maybe we should start some private lessons so you could teach me your way.”


Jeon Jungkook

Originally posted by eatupbangtan

  • Smug and sassy 24/7
  • Everyone who meets him for the first time want to punch him in the face
  • And a lot of people try to do that but he has great, quick reflexes and easily evades them
  • Started from simple piracy but now can literally hack into anything but usually brags about it too soon and gets caught
  • That’s how he got recruited, he was about to go to jail when Namjoon noticed his talent and bailed him out

You two had a bit of a show down in cyber space and so after that he decided to track you down. He found you in a coffee shop on the other side of town. He walked in and sat down opposite you.

“And who might you be?” you looked up from your computer screen. He caught your gaze and smirked.

“Jungkook.”

“Jungkook?!” you almost spat your drink. “How did you find me? I hid my location.”

“Did you really think that silly protection of yours could stop me? But I’m not here for that. I’m here for you.” 


A/N: Ahh I finally did it!! 😃 Anyhow, feel free to request more scenarios, reactions etc, I keep up with a lot of groups, both male and female!! 😊

on the post about earth prison, what if humans were once a major threat to the universe?

The humans are a horrid race where each individual could match 3 alien soldier equivelents and their society was ruled in a strict militaristic Empire. They had taken over a quarter of the universe before they could be thwarted.
It took everyone else left to band together and take them out, culling their race in a costly war that spaned millenium. Eventually they got us down to an endangered species, only the richest diplomats who payed their way to be given the ‘mercy’ of being placed into a inhospitable prison with memory wipes. Earth.
No technology on planet, heck the whole sol system is in a intergalactic black out zone to insure that no outsiders can find them in the chance certain individuals were payed off to save them before hand.
Covered in more deseases than any place else in the universe, many of the strongest predators gathered and placed there to keep their numbers in check, with a good spinkling of poisoness plants and animals for good measure. A hair balanced ecosystem was also created so that in the off chance they happen to start progressing technologically again, in the minimum 6000 years (500 faster than the fastest progressing race recorded in universal history) it will take them to progress through the industrial age, their entire planet would have have become devoid of any form of sustenance to support themselves and they will either have to give up or die.

this is all punctuated with their already small planet being mostly covered in undrinkable water and filled with even more deadly creatures so as to deter them from populating its surface, hence keeping their numbers down. While this resulted in some of the landmasses being a little too hospitable, we evened things out by altering their structure until there was a constant threat of natural disasters to deter them from settling in those areas.
We even went as far as placing fake evolutionary fossils around to help turn them away from thoughts of where they came from leading to ideas about space travel.
I think we can safely assume they will serve their punishment for their races crimes well here, or die trying to escape it.

~year 3452AD earth years~

After finding a drifting peice of strange metal in space, a trading ship sent it into our department as it seemed to be sending out a strange noise on radio wavelengths. something only descovered due to certain animal cargo they were transporting stressing out when near the device. After our department analysed it and found it to be a message of peace we were exstatic, hoping to meet a new species to introduce to the galaxy.
However the excitement died down quickly once its point of origin was tracked down… a black out zone containing the most heinous of criminals. Due to how it was traveling through space, we believe it was sent over 1000 years ago. Which should be impossible as due to all calculations they should barely be out of the stone age by now… these implications are worrying to say the least, and unbelievable to most. Although the majority have come to the conclusion it is simply some distastful prank, we must check to be sure.

And so the first check up on the human prison was started. A fleet of 300 science vessals to quickly scan the planet and leave within a few days. They also were accompanied by 20 military ships to deter any would-be pirates. They all enter ftl with the destination of earths moon to set up a temporary station while the scanning will be on going.

The crew is discussing and argueing about whether the humans will either be dead or they will get to see the galactic boogey men poking at monsterous beasts such as the legendary ferocious ‘bull’ with sticks. Only to be shocked into silence upon exit of ftl to see litterally tens of thousands of battle space ships aiming their weaponry at them, their sensors indicating that at least 20 of the biggest ships have weaponry that can wipe through a quarter of their fleet and their sheilds in a single blast. After only 5 minutes of silence their com links seem to have already been hacked through and a screen opens with a terrifying angry human on the other side shouting at them in another language, after a breif few seconds the auto translator kicks in and their voice rocks them to the core.

“I repeat! You are in the United Continents of Earths no space flight zone! Identify yourselves immediately or by law we will be forced to remove you perminantly via lethal means!”

The chief scientist scrambles at the controls before managing to hit the right button “W-we come in peace! j-just some civilian vessals passing through, we will just… turn and go now! haha!” he blurts out nervously as a few crew facepalm and the rest sweat just as nervously.

“civilians is it? a likely story! Do you take me as a fool!?”

“oh no of c-”

“I dont even need to glance at my scanners to see the military vessels hidden among your fleet! Who are you allied to?! Is it those red mars scum!? no… the ship style isnt like them… Ah, you must be part of those damn reclusive jupitarians huh? the saturnites giving you too much trouble so you tried to sneak back the homeworld did you? well too ba-” the angry human is interrupted by a smaller and thinner human arriving beside him, handing over a peice of glass with glowing letters before saluting and running off. The angry man peruses it for a short while, tension in the air before a disturbingly sweet smile crosses his face.

“Well well, honored guests from another galaxy is it? forgive my inhospitality earlier, i was unaware who you were. It seems obvious we couldnt identify you sooner now. Please, do let us guide you down planet side so we can talk further on this…” he glances down at the glass again “ FTL drive. I am sure we can come to a reasonable understanding.”

Alien crew members start screaming things like “oh gods! how do they-” “we cant!” “we would be hated as the villains who brought mankind back to the universe!” “were screwed!” before they are quitened down and the cheif researcher tries to see if they can be reasoned with.

“o-oh, we simply couldnt, perhaps another time! uhh, we really dont want to inconvenience you.”

“oh no, I insist.” the human punctuates his words by waving his hand in a seemingly meaningless gesture… if you were able to ignore the entire fleet of tens of thousands of warships move out almost immediately after to surround them.

“fuck…”

(this idea got a little away from me, plus bad writing cuz im lazy on my mobile)

Dream Daddy Cult ending.

So from looking up sources, refreshing twitter, tumblr, and reddit in search for what is going on, i have a pretty good understanding of what this secret ending with Joseph is about.

I believe how it started was someone trying to find out if there was a good ending with Joseph. As of now, (7/23/17) all i know is that there is a ending where Joseph has sex with you, and then goes back to his wife. I heard that there was a second ending where you stay his side hoe, but i haven’t gotten that ending nor seen anyone else get it. I guess while data mining someone had found and posted the dialog where you wake up after having sex with Joseph, you are in a underground ‘dungeon’. 

The dialog goes on to show that Joseph is not human at all, but some sort of demon. He calls his kids ‘vessels’ that are apart of him. Joseph tells your dad that you are underground below the cul-de-sac and anyone who has ever seen this place has died. Joseph then says: 

“…Just think of it as the real Margarita Zone.”

Then Joseph admits that the reason why all the dads in the area are single is because he hunted them down and was using their power to fuel this entity(?)  

It doesn’t stop there, Joseph goes on to say:

“Now you’ll excuse me, there’s some other business I need to attend to. Your dear friend Robert has been awfully worried about you.
I think it’s about time that miserable drunk gets one last visit from the Dover Ghost.’’

After this Mary shows up and sets you free, you run and run and make it back home somehow. Once you get in Amanda greets you and things seem normal…until you ask her when he birthday is and you realize that Joseph made a fake Amanda. The “demon” Amanda turns to ash and this is followed by you trying to stab Joseph with the knife that Robert gave you. You drop the knife in the struggle, where Mary grabs the knife and stabs Joseph. His children attack him and possibly eat him(?). You end up waking up in bed and told by Amanda that the yacht you were on sank. Joseph was found to be taking money from the church and was no where to be found. 

Detective Saul Graves comes in and tells you he saw the underground dungeon himself and that his own wife died mysteriously. 

http://pfl-washington.tumblr.com/post/163265622355/ddadds-spoilers


Looking deeper into the game, people started to find sprites that go along with this storyline.

To Mary holding the bloody knife she stabbed Joseph with.

Joseph being stabbed in the shoulder.

Detective Saul Graves. (possibly voiced by Ross or Jacob Anderson: https://notsodreamydaddy.tumblr.com/post/163309240604/saulcalldanger04 )

“demon” Amanda.

There’s even more, including Joseph’s vessel children, the background to the dungeon, different facial features for characters…ect

https://notsodreamydaddy.tumblr.com/


Then even more was found…Background music, voice clips for Mary, Saul, creepy footsteps, and very disturbing background music.

https://notsodreamydaddy.tumblr.com/post/163259217464/synthcult


Now, for the speculation. Everything above was found IN THE GAME

People started to make some connections to Robert and Joseph. Robert has a odd looking tattoo that he doesn’t want to talk about. Joseph has the same tattoo, and that symbol keeps showing up in the game.

On Joseph’s walls…

This is the cult’s symbol. Its all through the game, and in the actual dungeon.

The symbol is even on the build your dad clothing options…

Not to mention the times robert warns you about joseph and how they had some twisted past together.


People having been saying that this ending was a Halloween DLC.

 I would like an answer as to: 1.) Who said it was a DLC and were the screenshot proof is. 2.) If it is a Halloween DLC, why is the cult symbol EVERYWHERE IN GAME. 3.) Why would they have a DLC for a game that just came out a few days ago..


I’ve seen people also say that it was something the game devs wanted to take out, thinking it was too much for a silly queer dating sim. This is more believable. I heard that one of the devs is into the horror genre, but this isn’t confirmed. Even so, why would they leave so much code in for data miners to find and cause people to get upset over. If they didn’t want to upset anyone why did they leave so much in for people to find?

As what I've seen and heard, at the moment there is no way of getting this ending. The code is apparently broken and wont start like the other endings.

These could all could be possible ideas….If there wasn’t a steam achievement out for “Escape from Margarita Zone” that no one has gotten. 

Along with that achievement, there’s “World’s okayest Dad” which no one out of the thousands of people playing can unlock. ( sidenote: someone on reddit said they got the achievement and wouldn’t say how, but looking deeper into it they seemed to have hacked the achievement and not gotten it ‘naturally’)


Ending notes:

I think that you can get the achievement and this chapter 18, cult ending. It might be a “true” ending, but that’s up to the person playing to decide.

HoodiePanda hosted a stream where he said himself that there is a possible Mary bug that the devs have confirmed which might be the reason we cant unlock this ending. This guy has played 24+ hours on this game and i think i can agree.

maybe we’ll never know…

Surprise (1/?)

Summary :  You die while being on a mission with the team. At least , that’s what you thought. What happens when you suddenly wake up alive ? What do you do now? & how will the team handle the news after thinking you’ve been dead for months?

Warnings : swearing, angst, violence , fluff( tiny, tiny bit for now).

Pairing, (so far) : Avengers x reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader( No permanent pairing yet!)
* Bold is readers thoughts,  &  italics are memories. *


                                                       Chaper One
    The sound of constant beeping fills your ears . You finally open your eyes to take in your surroundings ;You see the clean white walls, the heart monitors next to you, and the IV pole that seems to be attached to you. Where the hell am I . How the fuck am I alive ? You think back to the last thing you remember . 


    You were standing besides Bucky , fighting off hydra agents. You two banter back and forth , about how this is out of you range. How you belong behind a desk back at the tower. He wasn’t wrong, up until 5 minutes ago you were just a lab tech/hacker  for the team, you were shy and kept to yourself mostly . You were good with computers, so they asked you for help on this mission to hack into a Hydra base’s security feed. One thing led to another, and the team ended up being  severely outnumbered. You grabbed a spare weapon out of the jet you  were hiding on , then made your way out to help Barnes. Everything went fine, until Steve came to you guys. You always had feelings for Steve Rogers, but your relationship was horribly platonic. You never bothered to act on your feelings, the fear of rejection stopping you every time.  Steve was leading you back to the jet, when you had an eerie feeling of being watched. You turned around spotting an agent on a low roof, his gun aiming right at Steve. Before you comprehend what you’re doing, you throw yourself in front of Steve, yelling out a warning. The agent made his move, releasing numerous shots but missing his main target. You feel intense pain  tingle through you, you look down , seeing several bullet holes through your abdomen.  You hit the ground next to Steve with a thud. Your hands fly to your wounds , you feel your blood coating them as you try to apply pressure. Steve is immediately at your side along with Bucky. Their words are barely registering in your head, you can feel the blood loss taking its toll . Steve has you cradled in his lap , hugging you to him asking you to hold on .

Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain

You slowly lift your hand to cup his cheek, pulling his eyes to yours. “  I’d do it over again if I had to Steve. I -” he cuts you off.

“  Y/n, don’t you’re going to make it, the medical team is -”

“  I’m not going to make it , & that’s okay “ Your speech is slurring and your vision is fading to black . “ It’s okay because I Love You.” The blackness completely takes over your vision.



So how the hell am I alive? Please tell me Hydra didn’t frankenstein my body . Oh God i’m going to be sick . What if -

     Your thought are cut off by who you assume to be your doctor walking in , with a shield logo on his scrubs.

      “ You’re awake ! That’s great Miss Y/n, I thought it would take at least another month or two. You really are a fighter. “ he chuckles while scribbling something on a clipboard.

 “ Who the hell are you , and where the hell am I. How am I alive, this isn’t plausible -” 

 “ Miss , someone is coming to explain everything to you shortly now that you are awake. What I can tell you is that your are safe, in a SHIELD medical house that treats people with similar situations as yours.”  Similar situations? People that are suppose to be dead?

“ You mean people that died on duty ? What the hell kind of place -” You’re cut off by a new ,familiar voice. Son of a Bitch .

“ Stand down Miss Y/n , the doctor only did as he was ordered.

Originally posted by marvelheroes

“ Fury, you son of a bitch.” Anger boils in your body .

“ I dont think the Captain would like to hear such language coming out of a ladies mouth Y/n .” 

“ You sick son of a bitch , who the hell are you to play God ! I was dead, I shouldn’t be here . What the hell did you do to me ?!” You shout at him .

  “ Calm down Y/n, it was the same procedure we applied to other agents that ‘died’ . You just happen to wake up a hell of a lot sooner, seems your body wasn’t as willing to die as you were.”

 “ That’s not a good enough explanation Nick . This is going against Nature, i want -“

 " You cant just say thank you, can you? ” he sighs before adding ,“ You received the same procedure Coulson had.” he confesses.  Anger starts radiating through you , you were part of the research team on that procedure, T.A.H.I.T.I . It was barely out of the experimental phase the last time you saw it .     

 “  You didnt have permission to do this Nick, what if I didnt want this , huh? You unwillingly brought me back , with a program that was still considered experimental!  For all you know I could have been in fucking Heaven !” You growl . You rip out your IV , and try to stand. As soon as one of your feet hits the ground, you know you’re not stable enough.      

“ T.A.H.I.T.I  is safer than it was when you decided to leave the project. It’s not 100% fixed, but its a hell of a lot better than being dead. We had permission from your emergency contact , no one was ready to let you go yet .” He gives you a hard look . Your emergency contact was your bestfriend, Giana, she moved to New York a year after you did . You’ve been bestfriends almost your entire life, she ended up moving in with you when she came to New York .

 “ Oh my God,” She didnt even cross your mind since you’ve been awake.   

  “ She’s being called down here now. You’ve been out for a few months Y/n , Giana had to sign a confidentiality agreement, but she gave us the right to revive you .” Tears are freely flowing from your eyes, How could I not think of her . What the hell is wrong with me. Then the team crosses your mind, specifically Steve. Sure you got along with the entire team , but you spent more time with Steve, Bucky and Sam . 

 "Does the team know?” barely a whisper slides through your lips.

Fury nods his head no , “ There is time and place to tell them ,and it isn’t now. Giana should be here soon, and there’s a someone else you should meet after you speak with her. Be grateful Y/n, not everyone is given this second chance.” You almost wish that he’d say you weren’t allowed to tell them . Well , this is going to be one hell of an awkward reunion.

    He goes to leave, but you stop him .“ Why me, Nick? I’m not a superhero with powers, or even a real agent. I’m a lab technician, and barely that . I was an intern Stark took a lucky chance on .” It really doesn’t make sense to you , you weren’t anything special, just a regular girl.

 “ You fit all the criteria, and according to Stark , you are one hell of a lab tech . Maybe now you can be something more. T.A.H.I.T.I only exists in SHIELD because of the risks, you are required to stay with us for the time being. You’re a liability until we perform the remaining tests to check your stability. When you are in full health , you will be assessed& trained as what is deemed fit, whether it’s a field agent, or lab tech . Things are about to change, hopefully for the better.”

Originally posted by waverly-earp

    It was almost 2 hours before Giana shows up , you spent the time in between thinking through things .What did they tell my family about what happened to me? This is so fucking unnatural. Fucking SHIELD.

 The door flings open, revealing  a distraught Giana . Her eyes are red and still leaking tears. You don’t hold in yours, letting them stream down your face as you lock eyes with your bestfriend.

    “ Hey Gi.” You whisper, before you know it , shes bolting towards  you on the hospital bed. You wrap your arms around each other , just crying . Tears are still dripping from both of you , but the loud sobs quieted down.

She breaks the silence ,“ What the hell were you thinking ?”

Oh God, here comes the yelling. Her voice is laced with anger, confusion, & sadness. She pulls her head out of your neck to connect her eyes to yours.

     “ I wasn’t thinking, I just -”

“ OBVIOUSLY YOU WEREN’T FUCKING THINKING..” she yelled. You wince at the tone, and the fact that she’s right next to you , but yelling like you’re across a parking lot. A sob comes out of her and she buries herself in your neck again.

    “ You left me Y/n, you were gone. You left me alone, and I didnt know what to fucking do . “ Her voice is soft, what she says brings you back to tears. You embrace her tighter, laying your head on hers.

Originally posted by greysstillslays

    “ I’m so sorry , im so so so sorry . I can’t imagine what you went through. I didnt think ,i just automatically pushed Steve out of the way . I just , I dont know .” You feel her nod before she speaks up,

     “ You know, you told him you love him”

“ Thanks for reminding me ,dick .” You both let out a laugh , not breaking your embrace.   The rest of her visit consists of her telling your what’s been happening the past few months. You’ve spent 90% of your life together so far, the thought of being apart breaks you. Your heart breaks as she tells you how it was while she was alone. In your mind, you find your relationship with Giana to be as indestructible as Steve and Bucks.   She tells you that your parents were informed them that  you were sent on a trip to Europe, to take care of some business over there last minute. You didn’t even want to know what they were going to say if T.A.H.I.T.I ended up not working. You push the thought out of your mind. When she leaves, it’s a painful goodbye. You reassure her that you’ll be right here when she comes back for another visit. When the door shuts behind her , you sink back down into the bed .You sigh, feeling exhaustion over take you . You let your eyes flutter shut, pulling you into a deep sleep.   


   When you wake up, you see it’s still dark outside . The light from the tv was illuminating the room, making you squint your eyes. Weird , I didnt turn it on who di-

You’re cut off by a blur of blue ,followed by gust of wind entering your room. Your eyes widen , and look to the chair next to your bed. Your mouth drops open in disbelief .NO FUCKING WAY . 

   Your eyes land on a guy about your age, with platinum blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes. You recognize him immediately from the pictures in Wanda’s room .

 He sends you a smirk before speaking, “ Well good morning sleeping beauty , i’m Pie-”

 “ Pietro Maximoff ?” It comes out as a question, mainly because you can’t believe your eyes. Wanda’s clearly not dead brother was sitting in front you, with a sly grin on his face.

Well , Fury is just full of fucking surprises.

Originally posted by ranrightintomyheart

Permanent tags?

@marvel-fanfiction @elaacreditava @midtownsciencenerd @psychicwitchphilosopher @sammnipple

Your hands feel like home

Request: Some college au lance and keith, where maybe keith gets like really badly sick (Up to you my friend how) and lance has to force him to stop going to classes/go to the hospital but keith gets so freaking stressed because he must have perfect grades (Klance if you want!!) Thank!!! C:

Summary: When Keith comes down sick, he assumes its nothing and carries on. But as classes and deadlines start to take their toll, it becomes more and more obvious to both Keith and his boyfriend Lance, that this ‘cold’ is anything but normal. How he made it to lectures with full blown pneumonia, he’ll never know, but something he does know is that no matter what, Lance will always be by his side. 


‘Babe, did you get the coffee?’

Keith raised his head, pausing in his feeble attempt to remove his shoes without experiencing a rapid, unplanned introduction to the floor.

‘Huh?’ he called, a small wince seeping through his teeth at the irritable scrape in his throat. He had been feeling ill for days, sluggish and tired, with a growing wet cough that burned his airways and pounded his head like a hammer on an anvil. He knew he had a fever - that morning while Lance had still been sleeping he had snuck into his bathroom and borrowed his thermometer, only find that his temperature had risen to 38.5 degrees. But college was just too busy to take a day off from, and so he had popped a few fever reducers and paracetamol and gotten on with his day.

‘Coffee,’ Lance repeated, sticking his head out of the kitchen door to raise his eyebrows at Keith. ‘you said you were gonna stop by the store on your way here and pick some up. I’m nearly out,’

Keith groaned, leaning his head against the wall, second shoe all but forgotten. ‘Damnit.. I forgot, sorry. Want me to go back out and get some?’ he asked, but every fibre of his body was praying that Lance would say no. Apparently, whatever Gods were looking down on him chose to be kind, and Lance shook his head, at ease.

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dazzlingtiredeyes  asked:

I'm not saying that I'd give you my first born in exchange for a continuation to the Lance revealing his feelings for Keith under the effect of weird space plants... But I'd totally give you my first born, a new Mac and the blood of a virgin.

Ayyyyyyy six months late (sorry, I know, I’m terrible) but trade out the human child for a puppy and you’ve got yourself a deal

Here’s the first part of this fic

And here’s the continuation, to heal the angst:


Keith had been weird ever since Wivicor.

Of course, Lance reflected, Keith was always a little weird, so it was all relative, but he’d changed in ways that Lance couldn’t account for. He wouldn’t make eye contact with Lance anymore, would barely talk to him. When Lance tossed an insult his way, instead of responding in kind, Keith went silent. If he ever found himself alone with Lance, he left the room as quickly as possible. Training sessions between the two of them eventually devolved into ominous quiet as Lance gave up trying to get Keith to talk to him. He would have worried Keith was ill, if he didn’t continue to interact with the rest of the team as normal. He’d laugh with Hunk at dinner, or peer over Pidge’s shoulder as she hacked into Galra systems, or talk long and quietly with Shiro. He even seemed to have a better relationship with Allura than with Lance.

Lance didn’t want to admit how much it stung. He nursed his wounds in private, trying to convince himself he was seeing something that wasn’t there. He knew Keith didn’t like him, sometimes was even afraid he flat-out hated him, but he’d thought they were getting better. Whatever dream that had been, Keith seemed determined to crush it. There was a hint of bitterness in his mouth whenever they formed Voltron now, a thread of something unpleasant that seemed to run between the two of them.

It was a small thing that broke his resolve. Unable to sleep, he stepped out into the hallway, thinking of getting a midnight snack or possibly just stretching his legs. Keith’s door started to slide open, he caught a glimpse of Keith’s startled eye, and then it slammed shut again. Something crumbled in his chest, but there was a tiny flame of fury there too. He stewed for a moment, considering his options, before he steeled himself, walked over, and banged on the door.

“Keith!” he shouted. “Open up!” The door stayed close. “Open your goddamn door, Keith!” He hit it so hard his knuckles stung. “Open up or I wake up the entire castle and we have this discussion in front of everyone.” The door slid open a single grudging inch, revealing Keith’s purple eye.

“Go to bed, Lance,” he said. Lance stuck his fingers in the door, hoping Keith was not actually mean enough to slam it on them.

“Not a chance, Kogane,” he said. “We need to talk.”

“No. We don’t.”

“Let me in,” he growled.

“No.”

“We need to talk and you know it. Unless you want Shiro to start chewing us out for being irresponsible Paladins and letting our personal problems get in the way of forming Voltron.” There was a moment of silence, and then the door slowly slid open the rest of the way. Keith was barefoot, in a gray t-shirt and sweatpants, arms crossed over his chest. His bedsheets were rumpled and the room was dark, but his eyes were bright and alert, undulled by sleep.

“What.” Lance shut the door behind him, flicking the light on. Keith squinted in the brightness.

“You know what,” he said.

“Humor me,” Keith said flatly.

“You’ve been acting weird ever since we got stranded on Wivicor. I thought we were getting better, Keith, I thought we might be becoming friends. Now you won’t even look me in the eye.”

“I’m looking at you right now.”

“Yeah, for the first time in weeks.” Lance crossed his own arms, matching Keith glare for glare. “That night in the cave. You were supposed to wake me up for guard duty, but you never did, and you lied about why. Then you barely talked to me the next day, and ever since then you’ve been weird. What the hell happened?” Keith’s eyes narrowed.

“Nothing,” he said. “I told you, I couldn’t wake you up.” Lance shook his head.

“Bullshit. You’re an awful liar.” They glared at each other for a long moment, before Lance gave in to the crumbling in his chest. He dropped his arms to his sides and sighed. “Please, Keith, just… tell me. I don’t get what I did wrong.”

Something cracked in Keith’s expression, and he sat down heavy on the bed, his head hanging low. His bangs dropped over his eyes as he shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Lance,” he said. “Please don’t think that.”

“Well what the hell else am I supposed to think?” he asked.

“It was that stupid fucking flower.” Lance blinked.

“The what?”

“You sniffed a flower on Wivicor and got all this pollen in your face. Do you remember?” Lance shrugged.

“Sure, a little, I guess. What does that have to do with anything?” Keith sighed.

“The pollen from the flower. It gave you some kind of alien infection. Later that night, when we got to the cave, you started… talking, but your voice was all flat and monotone, and you weren’t thinking about what you were saying. It wasn’t you, not really. And then you didn’t remember it the next morning.” Lance blinked.

“Well what the hell did I say?” he asked.

“Stuff I had no right to hear. Please, Lance, I’m trying to just forget it, you would never say those things really, not to me. I shouldn’t have heard a word of it.” Dawning horror constricted Lance’s chest.

“Keith,” he said, the word tight around the lump in his throat. “Whatever I said… I’m sorry, I wouldn’t ever say anything to hurt you, you have to know, I… I know we throw insults back and forth, but I don’t mean them, I mean, I’m not trying to actually upset you, I—” Keith’s head shot up, his eyes wide and wild.

“No!” he shouted, and Lance jumped. “I… I mean, no, that’s not… That’s not the kind of thing you were saying.”

“What, then?” Lance frowned.

“It was…” Keith took an stuttering breath. “You were speaking without a filter, basically, telling truths. Or I assume they were truths. You… talked about your family some, but… Mostly it was about me, and you and me, and how you…” Keith trailed off, met Lance’s eyes, swallowed, and finished the sentence. “How you feel about me.”

Lance had the odd sensation that gravity was shifting, changing. He was going to fall through the floor, and at the same time he was coming unmoored, floating out into space without a tether to pull him back to safety. His chest crumbled like ash. Keith continued, unstoppably, mercilessly, plowing through his words.

“You said you know – you think you know – that I hate you, but that you think that you might love me. You said you’d cried because you think I don’t… I couldn’t ever…” Keith looked down again, squeezing his hands into fists. “I should never have heard any of it. I should have blocked my ears the minute I realized something was wrong.”

“So now you know,” Lance said. The words didn’t seem to come from him. He couldn’t remember deciding to say them, they just slipped out, unbidden, from a voice very far away from him. “Now you know and you really do hate me.” Keith shot up so fast off the bed that Lance stumbled backwards and almost fell.

“That isn’t what I said at all,” he said fiercely. “But you deserved to tell me when or if you wanted to. Not like that. Never like that.” Lance backed up until he was pressed against the cool metal of the door, palms flat. He looked down at Keith, in his tattered grey sweats, mussed black hair falling over violet eyes burning with a fury Lance didn’t understand.

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispered. “I’ll just go. I’ll leave you alone, I swear.”

“Stop apologizing!” Keith shouted, and Lance flinched. The fury in his eyes calmed slightly. “Stop, please, because you’ve got entirely the wrong idea about all of this.” Lance frowned, biting his lip.

“What does that mean?” Keith’s hands chopped uncertainly at the air around him, trying to aid his explanation but seeming just as lost and unsure as his words.

“It means… God, Lance, I’m no good at talking about this. I’m mad because this spoiled something… I thought we were finally getting better, finally getting to be friends.”

“So did I,” Lance said, so quietly he wasn’t sure Keith heard. “Or hoped, anyway.”

“And I don’t know what I felt or would have started to feel but it’s not like I’m blind, right? I always knew you were pretty, anyway.” Lance blinked, feeling something in the conversation derail, something step out of line and jam up his thoughts, freezing his brain in place.

“You knew I was what?” Keith, however, didn’t answer, plowing through his words with a kind of desperation.

“It wasn’t like I had a crush, that’s too generous, but I think I knew, subconsciously, somewhere, that there was… there was potential, I guess? Well, I mean, I thought you were straight, too, which didn’t help. I really don’t know where my head was.” He glared at Lance. “But then you had to go and pour out this confession under the influence of some kind of alien drug, and you don’t even remember doing it. And that accelerated things in my head, got me to notice some things about myself, but now that I’ve heard you talking I can’t do anything about what I’m noticing because that’s unfair to you. And I didn’t want to hurt you by telling you what I heard. So I’m stuck. I just tried to avoid you instead, but obviously that was never going to work.”

“Keith,” Lance said slowly. His fingers curled against his palms, tapping uncertainly. “What are you talking about?”

“You, you idiot,” he replied. “You and how goddamn complicated you are.” Lance shook his head.

“I don’t understand.” Keith sighed.

“Oh, to hell with it all. I was never any good at words.” He closed the distance between them. Lance yelped, trying to scramble away, but there was nowhere to go. Keith caught his hands, reached up, and very gently placed a hand against Lance’s cheek. Lance froze. “May I?” he asked. Not daring to guess what Keith wanted to do, Lance nodded numbly. Keith leaned up and pressed his lips lightly against Lance’s.

The kiss was over almost as soon as it began, and Keith stepped back, holding up a hand. “Don’t say anything,” he said. “Not yet. Go to bed. Think about it. Think about how you feel, and whether you’re ready for me to know how you feel. Then come back and tell me, if and when and how you want to. Okay?” Lance still couldn’t breathe, but his chest wasn’t crumbling anymore. Something warm sat there instead, tethering him to safety. He smiled gently.

“Okay, Keith,” he said.

[Please do not send me prompts at the moment, I am working through old ones]

what goes around comes around (a fic for the glorious 25th of may)

The first time Lu-Tze learned of the Glorious People’s Republic of Treacle Mine Road was long before Sam Vimes got caught in a thunderstorm and was swept thirty years into the past. In fact, when Lu-Tze was young and light on his feet and had only just moved to Ankh-Morpork for the first time, he took a wrong turn and stumbled upon a narrative temporal phenomenon the likes of which he had never seen in his life.

He was picking up some groceries for Mrs. Cosmopolite, who was graciously allowing him lodging, because was it not written that What Goes Around Comes Around? He was also lost.

He tried asking random passerby for directions, but his attempts were all rebuffed with variants on “up yours, mister” and the slurs that were generally leveled at anyone who looked too foreign for their own good. So instead of turning onto the Pitts as she should have, he missed the intersection and continued straight ahead.

It was the 25th of May. Spring was battling valiantly against the smog and grime of the city, and contrary to all expectation the few shrubs that had survived were putting out green shoots.

Lu-Tze hitched up the bag of groceries and thought the sacred wisdom: My Joints Aren’t What They Used To Be. He was a bit young for that one, he reflected, but was not all wisdom valuable?

He turned onto Treacle Mine Road.

It was noon. Bright and sunny. The street was loud and busy with carts and animals and people, as you’d expect on any weekday. And yet as he walked forward, the sun dimmed. The air cooled. The hustle of the streets became muffled, farther away.

The scent of lilac filled in the air.

The hairs on his arms tingled like a storm was approaching.

He took a good look around, really looked rather than focusing on the unimportant surface bits, like the buildings and the people—and nearly choked on his own tongue.

This—this was—it was a disruption in the space-time continuum so extreme that it was a wonder anyone in the immediate vicinity was still alive. This was a rift so profound that rationally speaking, he should be standing in the equivalent of a smoking crater where a chunk of functional reality used to be.

There were no words to describe the wrongness of this place. You could say that the passage of time in this location was like a length of yarn which had been bundled into a ball and left unattended in a room full of eager-eyed kittens. (It would be blatantly incorrect, but you could definitely say that.)

“Ye gods,” said Lu-Tze, because some words always worked.

He ditched the groceries and started running.

He burst through the door of Mrs. Cosmopolite’s boarding house with a crash. The hostess jumped in surprise and nearly hit him over the head with the plate she was drying, but restrained herself, because that wasn’t Done. Instead she shouted, “Young man, just what do you think you’re doing?”

“No time!”

If he’d stopped to think properly he would have realized how stupid a statement that was, but he was busy racing up the stairs and into his room. He grabbed his emergency supply pack from under the bed and dashed out again.

There were images in his head that didn’t make sense—darkness and rain and a silver cigar case, gleaming on the cobbles, and lilacs blooming in the night, over and over again.

When he returned to Treacle Mine Road he knelt down in the middle of the street, right in the middle of traffic, and the carts moved smoothly around him without a blink, despite their relocation occasionally involved a minor rewriting of the conventional laws of physics. He barely noticed. He found a bare patch of dirt and got to work. He would be hard-pressed to construct a sophisticated detection mandala on such short notice, but he would damn well make do…

The air crackled with energy as he finished the last curve on the mandala. He dusted his hands and waited.

It began to turn.

The patterns shifted, then stilled.

He frowned. “No,” he said. “That can’t be right.  Historical imperative? But this is so obviously a narrative disruption. An unfinished story.”

A rift in time that didn’t exist, memories of events that never happened… it had to be a result of an incomplete narrative unable to achieve a single resolution. Something, somewhen, had gone wrong, and a major role had gone unfulfilled, and now the phenomenon was scrabbling for a solution.

“Must be incorrectly set up,” he muttered to himself. “I mean, this thing is telling me there should be a major temporal incident any moment now—”

Unfortunately, the young Lu-Tze had not yet learned some valuable wisdom. For is it not written that You Are So Sharp You’ll Cut Yourself?

There was a sound like an elastic band snapping, and the world turned sideways.

He stumbled upright once the universe had returned to something close to normal and scrambled to get his bearings. He was still in the present day, but another time was—how to describe it, how to describe it—layered on top, one moment falling over the other like snow. Fog and wind and darkness swirled in, obscuring the sky, wreathing around the figures in the courtyard before him.

The men were wearing Watch uniforms.

“Okay, lads,” said one of the men. He had an eyepatch and a battered breastplate, and a voice that echoed as if it was coming from very far away. Years ago, thought Lu-Tze. “What we’re going to do is keep the peace. That’s our job…”

If Lu-Tze concentrated, he could still feel the rush of wind from the passing street and hear the sound of the busy city. But here, in a much more real sense, he could see the watchmen shuffling anxiously as they listened to the sergeant-at-arms. He talked about duty and right and wrong, and then he drew a line in the sand, and then the men made their choice.

History struck a chord.

The world shifted.

A barricade climbed into the air, higher and higher, packed with furniture and upturned carts and spare wood, held up by desperate hope and bottomless fear, the rawest emotions of humanity. When sufficiently concentrate, those were capable of twisting time into knots so complex that only a master of the temporal would ever be able to undo them.

And why would they want to? So what if someone thought it was odd that time crawled by while they were under stress, or if it went by instantly during a fun afternoon? That was what made people human. 

That sound again, and the world changed again—

A battle was raging around him. Men in battered uniforms, not many, fighting for their lives, wearing the lilac…

…the man with the eyepatch leapt forward, sword a blur in his hands, hacking wildly…

…and across the street, untouched by the carnage, was a little old man in a robe. He was sweeping peacefully at a patch of dust, undisturbed by the blood and guts and destruction whirling around him. It was surreal.

The old man looked up and winked.

Time stood still.

(Well, it didn’t really stand still, but the true answer involved multivariable calculus and besides, it was a useful metaphor and at this moment in time Lu-Tze was not the type to spend valuable effort messing about with the sneaky kind of sums with letters in them.)

The old sweeper carefully plodded across the frozen tableau, ducking under an upraised sword and stepping around the body of a watchman who had not yet hit the ground.

Ah, so another monk was on the problem, then? The young time-traveler stood up straight and tried to act like this was an expected development.

“Hey, kid,” said the sweeper. “You look like you could use a cup of tea.”

* * *

Lu-Tze was convinced that this particular branch of the No Such Monastery did not exist in the present day, which made it quite worrying that it appeared to exist in both the past and the future.

He sipped his tea with yak butter and eyed the old sweeper suspiciously. He distrusted older authority figures on principle.

“So you spotted the incongruity, did you,” said the sweeper. “Historical imperative’s a tricky thing, isn’t it.”

“It’s not historical imperative. It’s narrative causality.”

The sweeper sighed. “You’ve got a lot to learn, kiddo. It’s both. The Glorious People’s Republic of Treacle Mine Road… it didn’t take long for the city to forget, but the story still leaves echoes. It wants to be remembered.”

The young man frowned. “I kept having memories of things that never happened. Deja vu without the original vu.”

“Sounds pretty standard. Lilacs, right? You smelled the lilacs? That’s the anchor. On the Glorious 25th of May, the lilacs are in bloom. They will always be in bloom, forever and ever, for as long as time exists, and whenever the survivors see it, they’ll be brought back here. Even poor sods like you with receptive enough minds will be saddled with this piece of history.”

“But this doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t understand why a bunch of men would just get themselves killed like that just—just to be heroes.” Lu-Tze knew a dramatic last stand when he saw one.

“Yeah, see, that’s ‘cos you’re seventeen and I’m old and wise,” said the sweeper. “Why do we fix time? Is it because we want to be heroic? Is it because we have to? No, we do it because we could just let time curl in on itself and extinguish all the complicated bits like sentient life, but we decide to make fixing this mess our job.”

“But—alright, fine, but there’s still a gigantic rift in reality and I’m standing in it. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing.”

What?”

“You heard me. There’s no reason to muck about with a story that’s looking to be told. This case is unusual, mostly ‘cause it’s a bit under-construction if you know what I mean, but yea, is it not written that There’s A First Time For Everything?”

The young time-traveler sat bolt upright. “You—you’re a follower of the Way? But none of the senior monks—it’s just a thing that I made up so—I mean—”

The sweeper shook his head sadly. “Hoo boy. I really am paying for how much of an idiot back then. I suppose What Goes Around Comes Around.”

The young history monk’s eyes widened, realization dawning. He opened his mouth to speak, but the old man interrupted him. “Now, this is slightly more complicated than a standard closed time loop, since you’re not here in any physical sense. So if I just…”

He slashed his hand through the air. The air began to sing with mounting tension, time itself groaning under the weight, and the world snapped back to the present.

The city streets bustled around him. Lu-Tze’s mouth was slack with shock. Had that really been…?

He looked down at the mandala he had scrawled in the dirt. The wind had scrubbed it out.

Overhead, the lilacs were in bloom.

Sutures and Stitches Pt. 3

→ angst, fluff, action, mature (mentions of blood/wounds, medical jargon), smut in future chapters
→ hitman!jeongguk and medstudent!Y/N, bestfriends!au
→ It was your secret that your best friend was a hitman, and his secret that his best friend was a girl who was currently $200k in debt and working 80 hours a week saving people. But it worked out somehow.
part 1 | part 2

How was it that the two people with the most secrets became best friends? 


A/N: thank you everyone for your encouraging comments! heres pt 3! 

And especially thank you to Lu (@nottodayjeon), Lex (@taeuclid), and Alexus (@duck-bonpedro) for taking time out of their day to help me figure out this chapter and the entire storylineeeeee you guys are beautifulllll <3 

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anonymous asked:

Other Anon gets what I'm sellin. ;D Two Good Kids who deserved Better in EACH OTHER, because canon fucked them over HARD. Imagine how things could have gone if Obito HAD died before Zetsu could get to him. I think I remember you wrote a short fic of him ending up in the Rukongai, but imagine if he'd fallen in younger. That shinobi training that has him skeptical af of the Shinigami, & even more indignant about them not HELPING the poorer areas. Imagine if Ichigo & co met him when they drop in!

Ugh, omg, hate you, just take this. *shoves the pile of trash at you*


“You want us to launch ourselves out of a canon?” Ichigo squawks. “Are you insane?”

Kūkaku raises an unimpressed eyebrow, then leans in and brings her elbow crashing down on top of his skull. Ichigo yelps, reeling back with his hands clutching his head, and Kūkaku snorts, amused.

“Don’t be a pussy,” she says dismissively. “This is the only way through the barriers now that the Seireitei has raised them. You’ll be fine. Or you’ll end up splattered against the shields like a bug on a windshield, but worrying isn’t going to change that.”

Ichigo has had it with these insane, ridiculous people who don’t seem to understand basic logic. Though he probably should have expected it from one of Yoruichi’s friends, given that the cat is friends with Urahara, too.

He’s just opening his mouth to tell her that, in greater detail, when there’s a rapid clatter of footsteps on the stairs. A moment later the door flies open, and Ganju stumbles in, breathing hard.

“He’s back!” he cries, clinging to the door to stay upright. “Sis, he just got back a few minutes ago—urk!”

Kūkaku boots him out of the way. “Well,” she tells Ichigo, grin sharp around the edges. “Maybe there’s another option after all.”

Mystified, Ichigo nevertheless follows her, stepping around Ganju’s wheezing form and taking the steps quickly. She’s already in the front hall when he manages to catch up, and there’s a boy who looks about Ichigo’s age with her, leaning against the wall as he tugs his sandals off. One has a broken strap, knotted messily around his foot to hold it on, and he’s grimacing, trying to undo the knot even as he looks up at Kūkaku.

“—had to crawl through the tunnels to get out,” he’s saying. “The bastards locked almost everything down once the gate was attacked. Do you have any idea how hard it is to lug a hundred pounds of rice through waist-deep water?”

Kūkaku just looks amused. “You got out, didn’t you?” she retorts.

The boy rolls his eye. The left one is covered by a slanted piece of cloth, clearly an old wound, and Ichigo has to swallow a little at the sight of the deep, twisting scars carved into the right side of his face, also old. He’s handsome, though, messy dark hair pulled up in a tail that brushes his shoulders and bare arms leanly muscled.

“Of course I did,” he says, like he’s insulted by the very idea. “They’re Shinigami.”

In that tone, it sounds like a synonym for stupid, and Ichigo can’t help the sound of sharp humor that slips out.

Instantly, the boy spins, kunai in one hand and the other reaching for the shakujo leaning up against the wall. Ichigo steps back, because that’s the reaction of someone who’s been snuck up on too many times, and he doesn’t quite raise his hands, but he keeps his posture as unthreatening as possible with Zangetsu strapped across his back.

“Kid, this is Kurosaki Ichigo,” Kūkaku says, and there’s something crafty in her expression that makes her look far too much like Urahara for comfort. “Ichigo, this is Uchiha Obito, resident ninja.”

Ninja?” Ichigo repeats, dropping the attempt at politeness in favor of incredulity. “You mean like a ninja ninja?”

He doesn’t even see Obito move, but in half an instant he’s on his back, Obito crouched with one knee braced on Ichigo’s chest and his kunai resting at his throat. “A ninja ninja,” Obito agrees smugly, and the curve of his smile is sly. “You’d be the person who hacked off Jidanbō’s arm, then?”

Ichigo wills himself really, really firmly not to blush. This isn’t a fair position, especially when it feels perfectly clear that Obito isn’t actually going to kill him. This is just grandstanding, far more so than his fight against Rukia’s brother and his lieutenant.

“You’re even faster than Byakuya,” he says.

Obito scoffs, sitting back a little, and wow, that’s not fair, either. Ichigo’s had a midget living in his closet for the past few months, there is no way he can handle this, even with Kūkaku watching. “Of course I’m faster than that bastard. A shunshin beats shunpo every time.”

Ichigo doesn’t even pretend to understand that. Thankfully, before he has to come up with a response beyond you might want to move before you find out firsthand how bi I am, Kūkaku snickers and reaches down, hauling Obito off of Ichigo by his ponytail. He yelps but doesn’t try to fight her, and she sets him on his feet and folds her arm across her chest, looking at him narrowly. “Obito.”

Obito eyes her warily, taking two steps back to get out of range, and Ichigo scrambles to his feet and does the same on instinct. Kūkaku is even more terrifying than Jidanbō, and Jidanbō was twenty feet tall at the least.

Able to sense their fear, Kūkaku just grins at them both. “You know, you’re about a hundred and  fifty-six months behind on your rent.”

Rent?” Obito yelps. “What the hell? You’ve never asked me to pay you rent!”

Kūkaku waves that off like it doesn’t matter. “I thought it was implied,” she says breezily, though her smile is mean and full of teeth. “Three years is a long time to keep a roof over your head, you know, and to feed you, clothe you, get you connections throughout the Rukongai and Seireitei…” She trails off meaningfully.

Obito visibly grits his teeth, swallows down a burst of temper, and fixes the fireworks maker with a dark look. “I take it you want something?”

“Good boy!” Kūkaku says cheerfully, good mood restored. “Get Ichigo, Yoruichi, and their friends into the Seireitei undetected and I’ll wipe your slate clean.”

“Yeah, until next time you need to manipulate me into doing something,” Obito says sourly, and adds a muttered, “Old hag,” under his breath that even Ichigo, standing right next to him, can barely hear. Ichigo manfully resists the urge to snort, mostly because he knows what Kūkaku will do to them if he does.

Thankfully, Kūkaku is already halfway down the hall, headed for her sitting room. “Tell me when you’ve got everything together,” she calls over her shoulder, gives them one more smirk, and disappears into the room.

“Gods, what a witch,” Obito says, exasperated. He eyes Ichigo for a moment, and when Ichigo raises a brow at him he flushes, ducking his head, and reaches down to slice through the strap of his sandal with the kunai. Kicking the other one off as well, he steps back out through the door, then hesitates. “I, uh, have to make a few deliveries,” he says, and meets Ichigo’s eyes like it’s a challenge. “It would be easier with some help, and then we can leave sooner.”

Ichigo is all for rescuing Rukia as soon as humanly possible, regardless of what Urahara said about tradition and bureaucracy leaving them with several weeks’ leeway. “Fine,”  he agrees, and follows Obito out into the yard, where sacks of rice and two baskets of vegetables and fruits are stacked haphazardly.

He blinks, uncomprehending. When Obito said deliveries, he’d thought packages, not…food.

“Most souls don’t need to eat,” Obito says, and there’s a flush high up on his cheeks. “But if they have higher reiatsu levels, they can starve just like a living soul. The shinigami have plenty, so I just…liberate them of some of the extra and hand it out.”

That is. That is just not fair, Ichigo thinks, despairing, but he picks up one of the sacks anyway, takes the basket with the vegetables, and tries to not let his ears turn red when Obito gives him a thankful smile.

“So you’re a Robin Hood ninja, you mean.”

“Well, you look like someone set your head on fire, so shut up!”

Not Over You pt. 2

Prompt: “I was getting over you, why did you have to come back?” or it’s been a year since you and Steve broke up. He’s moved on, you haven’t.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2,277

Warnings: alcohol, language (maybe)

A/N: you have all been AMAZING. i have gotten such good reception. so here is part 2. this part is a bit longer, but we’re getting into the thick of it all. enjoy, and let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts.

Tagged: @itsagentromanoff @rileyloves5 @defendors @nenyakj @marvelous-fvcks @thorne93

Part 1

—–

Originally posted by rizwahmeds

You glanced down at the clock on your computer to see 6:20 on the toolbar. You supposed it was time to throw in the towel for the day. And it seemed so did Sarah. She knocked on your office door and poked her head in.

“Anything else you need from me before I head home?” She asked. You could tell she was hopeful.

“Have plans?” You laughed softly, rising from your desk and opening a small filing cabinet near the window. You always kept a spare change of clothes there, you never knew what could happen during the day. You pulled out a more casual pink tank top that would pair perfectly with the white, flower print skirt you were already wearing. “Does this look okay?” You held it up to your chest, almost modeling it for her. “I have a dinner date, with an old friend.”

“Is this friend male?” She wiggled her eyebrows, smiling at you.

Keep reading

13 Top Tips for The Traveling Writer from Gail Carriger

1. Thou shalt follow the 6, 2, 1 rule
What’s that? At least six hours sleep, two full meals, and one bath.
Actually, I usually try for 8, 3, 2. I recommend a morning swim (at most cons I get an AM pool to myself) plus a hot tub mini soak and shower. People often forget about the hotel pool when there is a major event, so if you like to swim don’t forget the bathing suit and goggles.

2. Sleep well
I highly recommend investing in ear plugs and an eye mask. That way odd noises and insufficient curtain coverage in strange hotels won’t be a bother. I carry a decongestant as well, in case I’m stuffed up from flying or allergies or temperature shifts.

2. Start as you mean to go on (but probably can’t)
My start? Egg white omelet, vegetarian, no-cheese. As an avowed not-really-breakfast person I force myself to eat this omelet every morning. Most hotels have something like it on the menu. Why? Because it’s the only meal I know I can guarantee I will have time to eat; egg whites are a good solid protein that sticks without weighing me down, and it is always hard to get veg on the go. Convention green rooms and cafes are available for snacks, but those snacks are usually carb heavy and if you get protein, it’s meat or cheese. I find if I start right I don’t worry as much about the rest of the day.

3. Soak thy feet, every night
Keeping in mind that I wear stilettos, I still feel that this applies to everyone – especially at those bigger conventions where you’re walking for miles. I soak my feet and rub lotion into them every night (no matter how tired or how drunk) and this is one of my biggest tips. Nothing is worse than sore feet, treat yours with love.

4. Thou shalt wear deodorant but not perfume or cologne
I know, you love that scent, but no one else does (no matter what they say) and you’re likely putting on too much. Yeah, you really are. This rule holds doubly true if you are flying.

5. Thou shalt tip thy maids
Look, working as a maid in a big hotel really sucks. Leave a tip each day in a prominent place (I usually go for the zone of little bottles in the bathroom) and I add a note with a heart that says “Thank You”. Be a decent human.

6. Thou shalt wear layers
You could be going to the hottest place on earth, or the coldest, but you’re in a convention center or a hotel or a bookstore, and the AC/heating is notoriously tricky. I carry a scarf and a light cardigan at all times.

7. If offered a mint, take it
It’s usually a subtle hint. Take the hint, take the mint. Carry mints yourself, share the love.

8. Honor thy moderator
Moderating a panel is a rough job, but someone has to do it. Be nice. Be polite.

9. Thou shalt carry badge, ID, business cards, phone, cash, name tent, mints, individually wrapped toothpicks, tissues, pain killers & other meds, snacks, and water upon thy person at all times.
Some conventions are great about supplying these kinds of things, some aren’t. Be your own savior, be someone else’s, hack the planet.

10.  Thou shalt not eat raw onions
Well I mean you CAN eat them, just not when on the road and at events. Your favorite food? Practice a little willpower, for everyone’s sake. Eat as many as you want when you get home.

11. Thou shalt follow the protocols of cosplay
No realistic weapons, no sticky substances (AKA the PB & J rule), no view-obstructing wings or hats, be aware of your costumed dimensions. I am well known for my abhorrence of the backpack, but if you insist on one, please be aware of it sticking out behind you. Nothing is worse than being a short female constantly whacked in the face by a backpack-wielding Sasquatch, particularly on planes.

12. Thou shalt not dress like a slob
Look, if you are traveling for work, you’re traveling for WORK. Whether that is as a professional writer or appliance servicing technician. Represent.

13. Say thank you
Someone invited you, someone brought you in, someone argued to make you a guest. Try to find that person and thank them. Thank the people running registration, and the green room, and programming, and the dealer room, and the bookstore. Mostly these are fans and volunteers. They make the event happen and they do it because they want to meet you, they want to meet writers. All they get are complaints, and issues, and fires to put out every day. Don’t add to their stress. And if there is a Dead Dog Party and you happen to be invited, do go. They are often the most fun and you get to meet all the people behind the scenes.

This is the first fanfic I’ve ever written. And it’s about Clarke’s wait.

Now on Ao3!

You have The 100 season four finale to thank for this. 

I go through many of Clarke’s daily logs, with an ending that I hope will be a welcome twist. Shoutout to the calculator on my phone for helping me count the days. 

Enjoy, my loves. Feedback is welcome. 


56 DAYS

“Bellamy, if you could see me right now…” 

Clarke huffed a laugh, and winced. Her face was still grotesque, even after nearly two months of healing. She’d taken to doing some research in the lab, studying the chemicals on hand and eventually testing a salve, which had come out a sticky green and currently coated her features. She had caught her reflection in one of the computers and immediately grabbed the radio. 

Her smile faded as she studied the other screens, the feed showing the ravaged terrain outside the sealed doors. 

“I don’t know how anyone could still be alive,” she whispered. “I don’t know how I’m still alive. But you are. All of you. Because you have to be, or I’ll kill you.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

People easily forget that this is showbiz. Celebs, especially the most ''desired'' ones will always be asked about their love life. There's no way that just because Harry is now with the Azoffs this will stop. Its very unlikely for him to not be seen/date a girl ever again until he comes out. Once he comes out & has a partner (Louis) this might stop, but even then bc the 'hotshot' he's made to be there might be bullshit quotes in tabloids, while in interviews they'll question him about Louis...

Disclaimer: this is the only ask I am going to reply about the topic because I don’t want to spend my time talking about Harry’s team nor Harry’s het image nor anything they want me to talk about to perpetuate their narratives.  I’m going to focus to what I like from this promo/Harry’s image only, so feel free to indirect and insult in asks & tags because my opinion is different from yours but this is the only time I am going to discuss this topic anyway.

I use this ask to say that people forget a lot of things when it comes to this promo because they were so sure he wouldn’t be asked anything but his music and he was totally free to blacklist topics like who he’s dating….. lol as IF.

Apart from the fact that he signed with a Sony label and this should tell you all about what kind of marketing they usually do around their megastars, people also forget that: 

1. this is Sony wet dream coming true: Harry Styles™ having a deal with them, making a solo album, a solo single, a SOLO image all for them to sell, groom and get money from without the rest of the band around. they won the jackpot here. they are going to do what they feel it’s necessary and he’s going to play by the rule as any other singer who wants a career. The other band members had to do the same, the context was different for each of them (way different) and the goals were different too, but they all play by the rules. Harry is not excluded because now he can be himself and be authentic, like some people like to think for weeks now, he might only want his music to talk but this will never happen unfortunately.  (I think he knows this too) 

2. He has a manager who organised a fake hack of  more than 80 pictures of Kendall Jenner sitting on Harry’s lap and pretending to kiss him (+800 sets of pap pics in two days) for months and months, not once but twice, every time she needed something to promote, blaming the fans for doing it when it was clearly staged and even used Harry’s mother to make it look more ‘real’. And the story about Kendall comes back every two months when needed, even if she’s dating someone else now. He also sold his own girlfriend to TMZ by making her hold hand with Harry and pretend to be a mystery woman to get him coverage about another man magazine and the launch party and once they were satisfied with the attention it got, they issued a denial through the same magazine so they got coverage from that as well. Like, it doesn’t take a genius to understand that he’s in the closet and his team is doing what they have to do in order to sell the product. Het narratives sells, tabloids want that, especially from someone like Harry who has a very well known reputation unfortunately. Maybe they won’t perpetuate it in the same way Modest did (i don’t think so, but you know, it’s still Sony so never say never) and they’ll surely give him more space to talk about his music like they are already doing, but the ‘im single and ready to date’ will never go away until he comes out. and it’s not going to happen now that he’s about to launch his solo career, let’s be real.

 Again, his ‘approach’ to the topic will likely be different than when he was in 1D (mostly because they want to make him the male version of Adele so they need a slightly different narrative) and he will probably be more vague like he was in this pre-recorded interview, but the topic was still brought up and it was absolutely predictable. They know what sells and what doesn’t so don’t expect him to only talk about his music and his working process, also seeing how tabloids are focusing on this quote this morning, the questions about dating and exes won’t stop any time soon in my opinion.

We are Animals

5k of SMUT AND ACTUAL PLOT… but mostly smut. I upload from my phone so I can’t italicize anything. If you want to see the version with italics, I’ll send you a link to where I posted the story. ANYWAAAAAYYYYY … I also apologize, but I don’t know how to enable the ‘read more’ feature on my phone. I know it’s annoying but unfortunately I can’t do anything about it.

AU STORY!!

-

This is a Drarry fic based on a video on YouTube of the same title. Kind of post apocolyose/ homophobe universe. Hardcore smut so… yeah

-

“Men. The only animals in the world to fear” - D.H. Lawrence

-

“Findings from the National Center of Disease control released the results of a study which shows that the lifestyle of some homosexuals has triggered an epidemic…” The garbled voice of a newscaster comes out of the radio, along with small blasts of static. I walk down a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, my shoes covered in red dust and the sun beating down on my shoulders, heating my brown leather jacket. I keep my hands in the pockets to keep them from shaking as the small radio I keep in the lining spits out more information.

“The ‘Gay Plague’ is the center of a political storm- the Moral Majority claiming that AIDS is God’s punishment for the gay lifestyle.” I close my eyes hard and use my shoulder to wipe the sweat out of them, and my messy black hair sticks to my forehead. In a hidden part of the thick jacket I can just hear the minute clinking of small pink pills that I live on in a small prescription jar. The pills in that jar, though, are anything but legal. The announcer continues.

“This isn’t just a disease we’re talking about here! These people are capable of murdering other humans when they-” The voice becomes inaudible from all of the static emitting from the cheap radio, so I take it out and hit it against my jean-clad leg until the voice is understandable again.

“C'mon…” I huff to myself, hitting the small box once again when it continues to cut out, until it finally continues.

“-and 50% of U.K citizens are favoring quarantine. We’re putting them in a nice, comfortable place-” The voice of the announcer is cut off suddenly by another person shouting into the microphone.

“Just isolate them!” The newcomer says, and I continue to listen, though it hurts. Looking up, I see the outline of a tall brick enclosure in the distance as my radio spouts more slurs. I would switch to another station, but these news reports are all that are broadcasted anymore. The second voice continues, though in a calmer tone than the one previously used. “We have received proof that the free world is, once again, in danger.

The radical group of homosexuals, known otherwise as the Death Eaters, have rallied together, more determined than ever to destroy the means put in place by our scientific and medical communities that keep us all safe, and healthy. Although we have created a protective quarantine, no one is truly safe.” I turn off the radio, no longer able to listen.

I can hear my mother’s voice in my head, pressing the bottle of pink pills into my hand. ‘Hide, Harry. Hide in plain sight, be a nurse, do whatever you can. Just don’t let anyone know who you really are.’ So here I am, in the middle of a field on a dirt road in August.

Eventually reaching the gate of an eight foot tall barbed wire fence, I look up and sigh, pushing it open and walking inside the quarantine zone.

The road is deserted, with various posters blowing about in the street, and the rusted shells of forgotten cars lining the outsides of empty buildings. My green eyes scan the chain link, looking at the various posters tacked up.

Seeing some of them closer, they look to all have some extent of coverage from green or black paint. I can even see a poster of the Queen with a large green skull with a serpent tongue covering her face. I reach out to touch the poster, but in pulling my hand back, the tips of my fingers come away glistening with green liquid. I then take a step back, look around, and continue on my way, eyes trained on the ground in front of me, and hands stuffed in my pockets, with the muffled sound of men’s screams permeating my ears.

I continue walking through the desolate streets until I reach a heavy metal door with the words “Caution: Quarantine inside. Enter at your own risk.” I don’t think twice before pressing my shoulder against the door to open it.

Inside, the sounds of suffering are clearer, but I continue on my way. Close by, I can hear someone with a hacking cough, a side effect of the numbing agent.

“Hey-” A hoarse voice calls out, and I look up in surprise. “you’ll help me…” An unkempt man sitting in a pile of trash lunges at me, trying to grab my ankle, though I manage to jump out of the way. “Help me!” He screams at my back as I walk away. “You selfish pig! You’re just like the rest of us!”

“L-leave me alone.” I say quietly, continuing, albeit at a quicker pace, towards my destination while the man screams behind me.

“You’ll get yours one day kid! You just… you fucking wait…” Is what I hear before he breaks down crying, and I keep going out of fear.

I turn a corner a small ways from the man to the front of an unassuming building, manned by two armed guards wearing respirators over their mouths and noses. The man on the left looks me up and down, before stiffly asking-

“Identification?” I take out my security pass and he runs it under a machine, which beeps to signal my clearance. “Put out your arms.” He says, taking out a metal detector and waving it over my whole body.

As it runs over my side, I pray with every ounce of my sinning soul that the pills won’t be detected, even though they never have been before.

“He’s clean.” The guard says once the detector has run over me multiple times. He gives me a look of sadness, and motions to his partner to open the door. “Good luck in there, Potter.” I nod in response and walk through the door into the cool, dark building.

My whole body shakes as I walk to the bathroom, the intercom of the building playing more messages like the one I heard on my way to work. “Several members of the Death Eaters have been arrested for vandalizing property, writing messages that spread their hate and lies…” I listen intently at the door to the restroom to make sure that it’s deserted, before entering and locking the door behind me. “The authorities have transferred the detainees to a nearby clinic for immediate neutralization.”

I walk to the sink, not bothering to look in the mirror because I know what I would see; the tired eyes of a liar, and the messy hair and smile-less lips of a sinner. I take the plastic container out of my pocket and crack it open, depositing the pills into my hands, looking at them with distain and distaste, before I hear a creak behind me. I look up and turn to the side, the sudden appearance of a heavily freckled red-haired man taking me by surprise, causing me to drop the container of pills and drop to my knees, scrambling to pick them all up.

“I-it’s not what it looks like-” I stutter, fear taking over my whole being, because if he knows what these pills do-

I look back at him after all the pills are put away, and I see a sad smile on his face.

“I should have known you were on Celibron-” he says, his accent thick. I narrow my eyes at him before looking away, my heart beating a million miles and hour. “I know exactly what you’re going through. You’re doing a really good thing-” I look back up at the man, who looks hardly older than I. How could he possibly know what I'n going through?

I narrow my eyes again, and stand up straight, slipping the bottle into my pocket. “I can’t eat… I can’t sleep… these- these things are fucking poisoning me-”

“These things saved my life.” The other man says calmly, resting his hand on my arm, which I immediately pull away. I turn my back, and put my hand on the doorknob, figuring I can just take the pills somewhere else. “Do you want to get better?” He asks, and my grip falters, before steadying again.

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” I say. “It’s just a precaution.” And I walk out of the room, leaving the red haired man alone, once again.

About an hour later, I’ve nearly forgotten the experience. My mind is numbed by the Celibron coursing through my system, and my shoes loudly hit the ground in the quiet hallway leading up to my patient’s room.

I’ve traded my leather jacket and jeans for dark red scrubs, and my hands are unable to stop fidgeting as I walk up to the one-way glass that shows me my patient.

I look in and see him sitting on a table, wearing nothing but white shorts, and I swallow thickly, before mentally berating myself for it. He has neat bleach blonde hair and wears a look that would seem horrible on anyone except for him. His lean arms are pale and his stomach is toned and blemishless. When he looks up I can see stormy grey eyes and a strong chin. I open the door and walk into the room, trying to avoid eye contact with the beautiful man.

I go to the cart positioned directly next to the man, whose feet are bound to his padded medical chair. I pick up his file and graze my eyes over it, before having them rest on his name. 'Draco Malfoy’ I glance at him and look back at the chart blankly when I find that he’s looking back at me.

I walk around the back of him, glancing at his forearm and seeing a tattoo of a green skull and serpent right beneath the hinge of his elbow. His voice takes me out of my stupor.

“So… what’s it like?” I return to his side and look him in the eyes, before glancing away again. “When they cut it off?” Draco asks me morbidly.

“You’ll be anesthetized-” I reply quickly.

“Mm-mm. No, I want to feel everything-” my neck heats as I feel him look me up and down. “even pain.” He says everything with a confidence that I don’t understand. I don’t understand how he could be confident and level headed in the situation that he is in.

“We can’t do that. That’s… inhumane.” I tell him, still keeping my eyes on the tools that I’m fiddling with for no reason other than to distract myself from the strength of his gaze. He thinks for a moment before replying.

“Since when did that stop anyone?” I pause for a moment before continuing my distraction.

“I-I’m sorry. The government requires that every patient be numb from the waist down for this procedure…” His eyes burn into the back of my neck and I can feel the pills working against the feelings rising up inside of me. He smirks.

“What do you feel down there, nurse boy? I could smell you a mile away. Your body’s strong… it’s resisting those pills-” I turn to face him, an easygoing smile decorating his features, and anger boils up inside of me.

“How did you know that?” I ask with a mixture of anger, fear, and curiosity. His blonde hair flops into his eyes and he brushes the strands away with gentle fingers.

“Did you ever break sodomy law?” I stop again, the heat from my neck spreading to my cheeks.

“T-the what?” I stutter, trying to play innocent as I lean back against the wall. He just smiles and shakes his head, as if he can’t believe my ineducation on the subject.

“Sodomy, sweetie. Mmm, sodomy.” The blonde nearly hums the words, before turning back to me with an amused expression. “C'mon, everyone knows that the clinic staff are all a bunch of gays…” He looks me up and down hungrily, and says more quietly, “my nose never fails.” And my anger boils over.

I slam the supplies on the cart, push off the wall, and walk right up to Malfoy. “Look, I don’t know what shit you heard, but it’s wrong. I’m straight.” I tell him matter-of-factly, walking to the other side of the room to pick up the sphygmomanometer. He clicks his tongue.

“Yeah, so is spaghetti 'till you get it wet…” He pauses before continuing at a whisper. “and hot…” His eyes are filled with lust, and it’s getting harder and harder to keep my composure under his grey gaze.

“I-I need to t-take your blood pressure-” I keep my eyes trained on the ground as I walk the few steps over to him, my fingers brushing his warm skin while I strap the contraption to his right bicep. He breathes in deeply,the muscles in his chest rising and falling as he chuckles and softly says

“You’re strapping it to the wrong limb-” I cut him off.

“You’re about to be castrated. Doesn’t that bother you?” I ask him irritably, giving in to my want for just a moment to rake my eyes up his body. He still acts indifferent, and I can’t tell if he’s really courageous or really stupid.

“Hell no.” He says, and I begin pumping up the pressure in the arm band of the sphygmomanometer. He throws his head back and then looks at me with a grin. “Turns me on, what can I say?” I rip the Velcro and take the band off of him, throwing it to the side in anger.

“This isn’t a game! People are dying because of this!” I exclaim, running my hand through my already disastrous black locks, and he suddenly turns serious.

“I live out there…” He looks down at his bound feet for a moment, before bringing his eyes up to mine once again. “I know what it’s like.”

“You’re a freak.” I say, going around to the other side of the chair back to the cart, my anger boiling over. I look at him again and his sarcastic smile is back.

“Might be hard- er, difficult- to do the procedure, if I’m… y'know.” He says, and I look up. He flicks his eyes downward, and I notice the bulge in the thin cotton pants.

“Oh… yeah…” I say.

Suddenly, Draco’s lunged out and grabbed my hand, pulling me to the side of his chair on my knees, putting my hand over his growing hard on, pressing it down, and moving it so that I’m cupping him. He’s strong; even as I’m struggling against him, I can’t get my hand away from it’s place against his cock.

“How does that feel?” I can hear the smirk in his voice. “Yeah, just squeeze right there-” he exclaims to me when I inadvertently clench my fist around him. I can’t say that I’m not enjoying feeling what must be a rather large cock through those thin pants, though I know it’s so fucking wrong.

I stop struggling, and look away guiltily as I squeeze down his cock, though not bare I can feel its’ heat, and I have Draco writhing in his chair. I can tell that his moans are hardly contained and I have to thank god for these scrubs hiding the bit of hardness that I’ve acquired despite the pills.

“Fuck-” he moans quietly, more like a gasp when I flick my wrist hard. His hand is gripping my wrist as I go faster and faster; my panting becoming audible. It’s so…

wrong.

But…

It’s also… so

right.

“Fuckfuckfuck…” Curses spill from his lips as I take my hand off of him just to put it down the waistband of his pants and actually touch him. He’s heavy and throbbing and I have the sudden urge to put my mouth on him, but banish it from my head immediately.

'This is plenty wrong enough…’ The thought crosses my brain when I swipe my thumb over the head of his dripping cock, lubricating my hand in his precum as I continue to jack him off.

His other hand is pulling on my hair as moans continue to fall from his mouth.

“Tell me your name. Tell me your name so I can shout it when I come.” He gasps to words, and his cock twitches in my hand.

“Potter.” I say, and he’s already started his orgasm.

His hand grips my hair roughly and he arches his back. I bring my eyes to his face; grey eyes closed, and biting his lip in ecstasy.

“Fuck Potter!” He gasps and I can feel his come on my hand as he pants and moans and curses, finally collapsing in the chair, his chest rising and falling quickly. “You… you’re good at that-” he says as I stand up not a moment before the door opens behind me, causing me to run into the cart in surprise.

The surgeon walks in, completely indifferent to my reaction, and walks over to the cart, turning to me. My white covered hand is hidden behind my back.

“Where’s the scalpel?” He asks me, and I look over at Draco with wide eyes, who smirks, winks, and lunges at the surgeon, putting the blade in his neck and pulling it back out when the man has fallen to the floor.

He then takes my wrist in an iron grip and pulls me out the door and through several hallways.

“C'mon c'mon!” He says back at me, before throwing me against the wall near a guarded door. He attacks the guard, taking him down by brute force, punching him several times, then coming over to me, hauling me up, and dragging me over to the door.

“Open the door.” He says into my ear, raising hairs over my entire body, but I still struggle against him, until I feel cool metal against my throat. “Open. the door.” He repeats, pressing the scalpel in more, until I relent and put the code into the door.

Once unlocked, people come rushing out of the armored room in hysterics. All homosexuals. All people like Harry. I turn to run, but he’s come up behind me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks me, picking me up.

A sudden hit on the the back of the head has me out cold, and I can vaguely feel myself being thrown over a shoulder and carried…

-t.s-

“Ow…” I say when I awaken with a pounding headache, rubbing my forehead. I look around, and my heart rate rises when I see that I am no longer in the clinic.

I’m in a cloth tent, alone.

I scramble to the door, ignoring my headache and climb out into the light of a setting sun. Music, laughter and yelling reach my ears from somewhere nearby, and I decide to investigate. I know that I’m getting close, as I can hear Draco’s voice:

“Yes! My fellow Death Eaters! I promise you that we will stab at the opposition! We will be treated as people in this cruel world! We. Will. Be. Victorious!” He screams, the voice of the man permeating my ears. An excited scream rises from the other people in the group. “Stripped of our dignity, under the guise of a disease, an epidemic, that has nearly wiped us out. And now we appear! Without out meds! Because we won’t hide anymore. This is OUR freedom!” His speech hits a crescendo when I round the corner of the rocky path, and crouch behind some bushes.

In the clearing I can see Draco, standing on a rock next to a blazing fire, and a rather large group of cheering followers who are dancing and talking. Among them I swear I can see the red haired man from the bathroom.

I crouch lower behind the bush when I see Draco looking around the edges of the clearing, praying that he won’t see me. But he does. His eyes lock onto mine and I swear I see him lick his lips, before I back up, trip a bit, and then run as fast as I can in the other direction, thoughts racing through my mind.

'I’m not one of them. I’m straight, I’m normal. I won’t be killed and there’s nothing wrong with me.’ Desperate thoughts fill my head as I run, and I can hear him perusing me.

“You can’t go back! You have nowhere to go-” he yells after me, but I just keep going, my chest heaving and my legs burning, yet I still run with tears in my eyes.

I run until I trip, falling to the ground on my back, and within thirty seconds Draco’s reached me.

He kneels behind me and pulls me up onto my knees, one hand on my throat and holding my ear to his mouth, and his other arm around my stomach holding me in place as I struggle against him.

“You can’t go back. The government’s declared you a renegade-” He says into my ear, his fingers and thumb digging into my cheeks and squishing my mouth.

“I-I can’t be a part of this-” I say, and he stretches my head back so that my neck is completely exposed, and puts his lips next to my ear.

“You’re here, just do it.” He says, and pushes me down so that I’m flat on my back, his knees on either side of my hips and his hands on either side of my head. I stare into his eyes, which have a softness that I didn’t see in the clinic.

“You felt something didn’t you?” He asks with a smile, stony eyes gleaming. I swallow thickly and try to ignore the pangs of want throbbing in my chest. “That’s the pills wearing off.”

Our breathing heavy and deep, it’s my turn to talk. “Was that your plan? To hold me hostage until the pills wore off?” I challenge him, and he smirks at me, his lips now mere inches above mine.

“A man’s not a man until his pills wear off…” He looks at me thoughtfully. “I’m doing you a favor.” He licks his lips, and takes the hem of my shirt in his fist, ripping it over my head, leaving my tanned chest gleaming in the darkening sky. His eyes look at me hungrily.

“What are you doing?” I ask, though all logical thought is being clouded with lust.

“Freeing the dragon.” He smirks, and all thought goes out the window. With a surge of strength, I push Draco off of me onto his back, and reassume his old position on top. The man beneath me looks vaguely surprised, but he doesn’t have long to retain the face because I’ve started attacking his lips.

I kiss him with a passion I’ve never felt before. His lips are soft and supple, and when his tongue snakes into my mouth it feels like it was made to be there. I bite his bottom lip hard in ecstasy, and when I grind my hips down into his for a split second, he groans into my mouth.

I rip his shirt off of him, running my hands over ever inch of uncovered pale skin all the way up his arms to his wrists, which I pin over his head while I start attacking his neck with hard bites and kisses, all the way to his collar bone. We’re both panting like animals at this point, but I couldn’t possibly care less.

“Shit-” he gasps, pressing his hips into mine, presenting me his already throbbing cock through yet another pair of thin pants. I take my hands off his wrists and he immediately puts one in my hair, and the other is running down my back, pushing me onto him.

He grabs me by the sides, hauling me into a sitting position without ever taking his lips off of mine.

Draco licks all the way down my neck and onto my collar bone, his cock pressing into me and mine prodding him in the stomach. I grind into him and he throws his head back in a loud moan, thrusting his hips up against me.

“Fuck…” I sigh, because it seems to be the only word in my vocabulary right now.

Within seconds of my moan he has his fingers in the waistband of my pants and is almost ripping them off, leaving me bare in his lap. I immediately climb off of him and pull his pants off of him, but the second they’re off he’s got me back on top of him, assaulting my lips and squeezing my ass.

My thighs are wrapped around his waist and every time I move my cock rubs against his stomach until I can’t take it anymore.

“I-I need you-” I gasp in his ear, and his mouth is immediately off of mine.

“If you want me, you’re going to need some preparation.” He whispers in my ear, not taking any more time and putting me down on my stomach, spreading me, and putting his tongue in my hole.

“Goddamn, Draco!” I gasp as he puts it as deep as it can go, working me loose. My hands pull at his once neat blonde hair, and he works his tongue in me until he has me writhing. But he doesn’t stop there. He puts two fingers in his mouth, covering them with saliva, and puts them in in place of his tongue. I moan, and he starts to talk.

“You’re going to look so fucking gorgeous with my cock inside you.” He pumps his fingers faster, earning himself a strangled gasp. He takes my head and turns it so that my eyes are on him while he finger fucks me. “You’ll be taking all eight inches whether you like it or not, baby.” I throw my head back in reply because he’s started curling his fingers and I can’t comprehend anything but the feeling. He smirks, grey eyes crinkling. “Good.” He says, taking his fingers out and leaving me with an empty feeling. “I need you to lube me.” I quirk an eyebrow, and he chuckles. “Suck me a bit. Just a little. I don’t know how long I would last in that mouth.” I blush but bring my mouth down to meet his glistening head all the same.

His cock is warm and full in my mouth and I try to take it as deep as it can go, getting it as wet as possible. All too soon he’s pulling it out.

“I-I can’t…” He pulls me on top of him again, but doesn’t have me sit. He looks me dead in the eye. “After I’m done with you, you’re not going to be able to sit comfortably for a week.” He growls the words into my ear and I moan. He takes that as the signal to start lowering me onto him.

Inch by inch he fills me, and it burns and hurts but it hurts so good that I don’t know whether to scream or moan. His girth is stretching me and I wrap my legs around his waist. After a bit of adjusting, Draco is in me all the way to the hilt, his tip brushing lightly against my prostate every time he moves. He puts his forehead against mine and kisses me when he starts thrusting; slowly at first. In the beginning it hurts, and he swallows my cries. But then it starts feeling good… suddenly, he isn’t going fast enough.

“Faster.” I gasp into his ear, and he has no problem fulfilling my request. My cock rubs against Draco’s stomach with every thrust, giving me more pleasure than I know what to do with. My nails scratch at his back roughy, surely leaving dozens of marks.

“Faster.” I say again, because I want more. So much more. “Harder.” And he goes harder, but still not hard enough. I pull his face down to meet mine, and look into his darkened stormy eyes. “Fuck me ask hard and fast as you can.” I say to him, and he grins.

“As you wish, Mr. Potter.” He says, before pulling out, putting me on my hands and knees, going back in, and fucking me so hard that he hits my prostate with every thrust.

“Draco!” I scream, his hips slapping my ass where they meet, and his hands pulling me by the hips to meet his frantic thrusts. I take myself in hand and jack myself off harder and faster than ever before because I’m so painfully hard that I don’t know what to do with myself. Soon, I can feel the coil tightening inside of me. “I-I’m going to-” is all I get out before I come the hardest I ever have, and he’s still fucking me as hard as ever.

Draco pulls me up so my back is against his chest and he takes my now soft cock in hand, moving his hand in time with his thrusts until I’m amazingly hard again, and he himself is grunting. But his orgasm comes with dirty talk.

“I’m so glad I got to fuck you open. I want to split you down the middle with my cock, and never stop fucking you. I got you hard again so I could suck you, feel all 7 inches of you, Harry. Fuck… Fuck!” He screams, riding out his orgasm inside me. The second he stops coming, he pulls out, moves down and gives me the most aggressive blowjob ever, which ends with my come all over his face.

“Scared, Potter?” He asks me, panting.

I give him a wry grin.

“You wish.”

-

“And so, in response to this new aggression, we are launching a new effort…”

During my first year of college, I tried many new things to get out of my comfort zone and learned many life lessons throughout the year.

In high school, I mostly focused on school, running, drawing, my blog (which I started during the middle of 11th grade). I was not really “social”, and only hung out with 1-2 friends at a time. I did really well in all, and I was very happy.

In college, I decided to branch out, since I would describe myself as introverted in high school, I decided to get out of my comfort zone and be more social.

I’m a bioengineering major, entrepreneurship minor, runner for a division 1 cross country and track team, freshman representative for the Chinese Student Association, write articles and take photos for Spoon University, and work in a bioengineering research lab. I was also posting 3 times a day on my blog, and also made sure to post on my food art Instagram every day, and my personal/running Iinstagram every 2-3 days. I barely had time to draw, which is one of my favorite things to do.

I attended a bunch of events first quarter to try something new, and learned that all that social activity took away my time to do things that I am passionate about. I and found myself looking back in high school, and living in the past because I wasn’t as happy. However, that was an important learning experience for myself.  

Here are some life lessons I have learned during my first year of college that I hope helps you.

1. Most important: Never take anything personally. The more people I met, the more I started to realize that you’re just not compatible with some people. Think of it this way: If you know that you are only trying to be friendly, but the other person doesn’t seem to like you, then that is their problem because they’re obviously blind and can’t see your awesomeness. They are not worth your time. Same thing with getting rejected from something. Once you stop taking things personally, I promise you will feel happier because it’s not your fault if you’re just trying to be a good person.

In high school, I never had the desire to branch out and meet new people from my school, therefore, the people whom I hung out with share many similarities with me.

You don’t have to get along with everyone, and you’re not limited to anyone either. Be nice to everyone, because you don’t have time to make enemies and/or deal with drama.

2. People are worried about themselves. I personally don’t think it’s necessary to try so hard to present yourself. People don’t judge you as they may seem to in high school. Everyone’s mostly minding their own business.

3. Find your own method of time management. In college, no one is going to tell you what to do. You can have class from 1-9 hours a day, and you need to plan the rest of your time well.

4. Realize your limits. Everyone has a different limit, and it’s something I believe you should experiment with early on in life to find out.

In high school, I was very successful in running, so everyone seemed to know who I was. I came into college feeling like another face. I was injured, and not doing as well in everything as I would like because I was involved in too many activities. I do believe in trying new things to explore, but realize that you have a limit. Learn to prioritize.

5. Learn to say no. I like to be a nice person, but I also believe that in order to be able to help people, you must take care of yourself first. By spring quarter, I started to feel tired of having to do so many things, so i worked up the courage to say no to some of the things, so I could have more time to study for my test, finish homework, or simply because I need to go run.

Missing a party to study is ok, in fact, no one seems to really care. I never party because I rather study and do quiet activities in my room such as drawing on weekends when I have a little extra time, and my friends understand that. Don’t feel weird if you are not into things that everyone else seems to be, and you don’t have to make yourself do things that you don’t want to (unless it’s school work because you’re here for a degree), either.

6. Don’t let anyone pressure you into doing something. I don’t party or drink. But that doesn’t mean I don’t isolate myself from people who do. I have friends that like to party, but they never force me to do something that I’m not comfortable with. You’re not “weird” if you chose not to drink because your true friends will accept you for who you are.

7. Appreciate your parents. Don’t take them for granted and become friends with them. 

8. Get to know your professors. Don’t be intimidated, they want to help and it’s fun to make friends.

9. Don’t be shy. That’s not how you get what you want. Plus, don’t be afraid to speak in class, and someone probably has the same question.

10. Make friends in classes. You can make great study buddies and share notes when either of you are absent.

11. Use a planner (paper or electronic, whichever you prefer) because physically writing helps you remember things more.

12. Take advantage of your resources such as interlibrary loans, databases, writing centers, tutoring, friends, professors, gym, and anything else.

13. Don’t buy your textbooks from the bookstore since they usually cost more. Get them from a friend, or find them online. 

14. Be confident. Fake it until you make it. That’s how you get many things in life.

15. Prioritize your health. Without it, you have nothing.

16. Make a list of things to always carry with you. For example: Food (quiet food in class), headphones, planner, phone, laptop, gum/mints, chargers, notebooks, etc.

17. Learn to adapt to change. Don’t expect it to be easy. I thought I was a very independent person in high school and that I would love college, but so many things change. I struggled my first quarter, then I got used to the routine. It will be hard at first, but you will learn and grow and become a better and more mature person than you were before.

18. Don’t be afraid to try new things. The more you know about yourself, the better equipped you are to make decisions about what you want in your life.

I have more life tips here!

How to Study Effectively

How to be Happy

How to be Productive and Achieve your Goals

How to Start a Healthy Lifestyle

How to Start Running

2

Please see Laffy’s drawing. It is coincidence that Saboala son and ZoSan daughter are both wearing blue in this drawing. It means nothing. …………..OR DOES IT.

Okay, some One Piece babies/children “headcanons” incoming.

  • It’s still unclear whether or not Law and Luffy are going to have a second child. Law argues it’s impossible to determine that the second child is going to be a boy but Luffy argues that he’s decided. DECIDED!
  • Laffy doesn’t properly understand the concept of babies. Although she does know how babies are made (male sperm, female egg cell and all that jazz), she doesn’t quite process the fact that she can’t have a tiger-fox hybrid baby brother because according to Papa, “Torao can make centaurs if he wanted to”. 
  • As for the grandpa thing, Corazon is Cora-ya and Shanks is Aka-ya because Akagami Shanks and that name is just too fricken long. Garp is Grandpa. Sengoku is Grandpa. Dragon is Dranpa because Sabo’s son mashed up Grandpa and Dragon. The name stuck and Laffy started calling him that, too.
  • Laffy can draw. Her parents says so. End of story.
  • I was discussing with @iamaxiezze​ about ZoSan daughter and we were talking about naming her Matcha, Mochi or Miwa. Matcha is green tea. Mochi is a sweet japanese rice cake and is also a fricken character in Monster Rancher, which now makes me hesitant. Miwa, on the other hand, is written with the kanji of “Three” and “Harmony”. A combination of “THREE” and “HARMONY” results to a cute baby. I am trying to make a very clever explanation/analogy/joke here. Please say you understand. Anyway, I haven’t decided yet. Please let me know you’re thoughts. GIVE ME A FRENCH NAME PLEASE
  • Saboala daughter would be Yuka because YUKA-lyptus. You can basically hear Sabo’s pride in the distance coz he thought of it and Koala’s like “He wrote it on the birth certificate when I was asleep”. Hi @nurmuzdalifah
  • Saboala’s son, I’m not entirely sure but he’d be Joie, which is basically an alternate spelling for joey coz baby koala. IDK, I’ve run out of options.
  • Franky wanted to name their daughter Pliers. Robin wants to name her Lilith. We’ll keep you posted. 
  • Frobin daughter says “WICKED!” instead of “SUPER!”
  • I don’t know what Shanks and Mihawk’s kids names are.
  • ZoSan daughter has absolute loyalty to “her captain”, Laffy, which she mostly picked up from both her parents. She sometimes tends to overdo it in the sense that she vows to slice everyone and everything that doesn’t agree with her captain. The peanut butter jar that won’t open, for instance, did not escape the wrath of her blades. 
  • Zoro tends to be overy dramatic when discussing issues of pride and loyalty and manliness to his daughter that Sanji feels like he needs to balance it by trying to tell her what a lady is like. So that resulted to a well-mannered fighter (unless Sabo’s son is involved. I’ll get to that later.). “I am aware that young ladies are expected to be prim and proper but you, sir, have been acting like a despicable donkey’s behind. I’m afraid I will have to slice you. Please do not fret. The sharpness of my knives should alleviate most of the pain.” 
  • Shanks and Mihawk’s twins were genetically made. Once upon a time, someone tried to beat the Germa by mass-producing soldiers with the genes of the best swordsmen in the world. Both swordsmen find out about this, destroy the lab and all of the research but the prototype babies were there already so Shanks goes “LOL so I guess we have kids now LOLOLOLOL LET’S DRINK” (GUYS I DO NOT EVEN SHIP THESE TWO)
  • Mihawk’s daughter wields the largest sword of them all.
  • Mihawk’s son wields dual blades.
  • ZoSan daughter has some sort of rivalry with Shanks and Mihawk’s twins. She fights them with knives.
  • Shanks Mihawk twins have a god damn high tolerance to wine and alcohol. Why they are allowed to drink, no one knows.
  • Laffy thinks Mihawk’s daughter’s sword and her insane ability to wield it is one of the most amazing things on the planet and god damn if ZoSan daughter didn’t ask uncle franky to make her the largest cleaver on the face of the earth. “I need to live up to my captain’s expectations!!!!” 
  • Laffy has a crush on Dracule Mihawk. Mihawk’s son has a crush on Laffy. Law is reminded of what helplessness feels like.
  • Saboala son is the sane one and tries to be the futile voice of reason among the chaos that is Laffy, her whims, and her vice-captain. He tries to save what he can but he finds prevention is next to impossible while clean-up is inevitable. He doesn’t know why he still tries.
  • Saboala son bickers with ZoSan daughter much like how Zoro and Sanji behave and that causes Zoro and Sanji some sort of discomfort that they could not explain. Luffy thinks it’s funny. 
  • ZoSan daughter calls Saboala son “Pretty Boy” or “School Boy” as an insult. He calls her “Curly Skirts” much to her parents’ horror. They still do not understand where this fear is coming from. At one point, Zoro wonders about cutting the boy just to see if that does something. Koala lost her shit. That had been a fun day.
  • Saboala son is the only person that does not receive well-mannered treatment from ZoSan daughter.
  • Laffy’s mastery of haki is superb. Silvers Rayleigh + Monkey D. Garp and I just….. I just CAN’T. She also has insane stamina. While she mostly fights using kicks and punches, Laffy can also fight using a myriad of haki-imbued things ranging from an eggplant to a chair.
  • Only Saboala son can spar with Laffy when it comes to haki. He fights with a pipe, too, and can do those dragon claw things because why the hell not? He knows some moves from Fishman Karate but, dude. DRAGONS.
  • Saboala’s daughter can speak a wide variety of languages because she’s been exposed to them since birth. Hack spoils her and helps Koala teach her Fishman Karate.
  • Laffy’s met Doffy. Cora-san brought her down there because he’s still family after all. She was escorted by Garp, Tsuru, Sengoku, Coby, Helmeppo, Smoker, Tashigi, and Rocinante himself. When Laffy came back, the first thing she said to Law was “The weak don’t get to choose how they die!” Law was more livid than Akainu and Ace combined.
  • Speaking of Ace, he’s alive. He sneaks Laffy off the Sunny sometimes because she likes to see Pineapple Bird aka Marco. Ace is kind of jealous that his niece thinks Marco’s flames are prettier than his.

More about the One Piece Babies here.

anonymous asked:

Imagine Tony is neighbors to Steve and Bucky and Tony's cat always ends up in their apartment bc she likes to nap in their dog. Sometimes Steve and Bucky's dog sneaks into Tony's apartment bc he misses the cat and Tony's sweatshirts are so comfy

I am so so so so sorry for the long wait! School was crazy, work was crazy, family was crazy. bla bla bla bla. But now the only thing that I have to do is focus on the exams. And after that I have a summer break of nearly four months, so enough time to write, before I start university. For now, I’am aiming to publish one story a week (I am still looking for a suitable day). Anyways. I present you fluff!

—————————————————————————————————-

It was really too cute. Far too cute. Sensory overload. So cute it should be illegal.

“So… I am most definitely not waking them up,” Steve said, while softly cooing at the two animals. Once again, Tony was in the new neighbors’ apartment looking at this little traitor of a cat, that was cuddling Steve’s and Bucky’s Labrador. The white fur of the Maine Coon could be seen only if you looked from the top of the two animals, so  engulfed was it in the dog, which had rolled itself in a ball as if to protect the cat. This was the sixteenth time  in a month and half that the cat snuck out of the apartment just to go and have alone time with the neighbors’ dog. 

※ ※ ※

Keep reading

Facing uncomfortable truths about abuse

This week has been about facing truths, some of which I wish I never had to face, and I know that Mr. Juulna has had to face some pretty harsh truths as I have spoken them to him. Some he has accepted, at least at face value, and some I don’t think he will ever be willing to face, let alone accept.

One of which (is a vast meta umbrella) is that he abused me.

But… it was in a subtle way. Before last Tuesday, July 4th (yes, apparently fate decided to be dramatic with me and its timing), I was unwilling to truly accept that I was abused. 

I wasn’t being physically abused. No, not often. (Yeah, and isn’t that a ridiculous sounding statement.)

But subtle, emotional abuse, is still abuse.

Keep reading

♛The Dragon’s Euphony♛

-Chapter One-

Author: Jaegeronice
Pairing(s): Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku/Bakugou Katsuki
Setting: In a Fantasy world filled with sorcery and species unknown, the dragons rule above all, yet they are unseen by most. Due to the rare abilities of Izuku Midoriya, he has been tasked with the role of “Dragon Keeper” as the human guardian for the entire Wyvern race. But Midoriya, as usual, gets himself caught up in a mess where he has to embark on a quest with a barbaric King of the Wilds, a love struck Prince, and a reckless bounty hunter to get back what he had lost.
Characters:
- Dragon Keeper!Midoriya Izuku
- Prince!Todoroki Shouto
- “King”!Bakugou Katsuki
- Bounty Hunter!Kirishima Eijiro
(And several others)
Tags: Violence, Blood, Slight NSFW, Slight Angst/Tension, slow burn for the plot. No quirks, except for Shouto.

Originally posted by kacchanns

The snake-like olive dragon that coiled over his companion’s shoulders hissed into his ear, digging into the rough embroidery of Midoriya’s tunic with pinched claws. “Are you sure you want to intertwine those vials together, Izuku?”

“I’m sure, Cyril,” the boy lied.

“The book said to add ½ of Arcane Barrier Elixir and a drop of Lion’s Strength,” the dragon pointed out with disinterest.

“So it says, yes.”

“What you have in your hand is essence of brewed mushroom.”

At these words Midoriya sweat noticeably, clutching the little crystal bottle in his shaking fingertips. The luminous colors of deep violet and smokey orange swirled and bubbled like mist, beckoning Midoriya to loose the cap and set the magic free. Yet he did not. He hesitated. “Brewed mushroom? But it’s labeled as Lion’s Strength…”

Cyril, the dragon no bigger than a house cat, flickered his tongue impatiently. “Common blunder, you uneducated swine,” the dragon snapped rudely. Despite Cyril was not all impressive in size, he was vicious and rampant before Izuku got to him. The old kitchen had burst into flames at least six times by the time the arrogant beast was reasoned with. In the end, Midoriya always had a knack for finding a personal connection between him and these undomesticated reptiles.

“You’re tricking me again. I can guarantee that it’s Lion’s Strength,” Midoriya feigned confidence, grasping the cork stopper that plugged the neck of the philter.

Surely he was correct, right?

Midoriya peered down into the dented iron basin, staring at the ingredients that flickered, writhed, bubbled, and even made sounds of their own. Dragon Alchemy was certainly a feat in itself, and despite years of trying to master it even with a real dragon’s help, he still couldn’t get it right.

“Must you wait any longer? The soul will run off if you don’t do something soon,” Cyril warned, flapping his leathery green wings in annoyance.

Midoriya shut his eyes, hastily drawing in a breath as he popped off the flask topper, tipping the silvery contents into the bowl. When said contents mixed in with the others and began to contort to its own will, Midoriya braced himself for an impact in the events that the potion would backfire, as usual.

But nothing came.

“Izuku,” Cyril nudged him, having the boy open his eyes. Peering down, he approached the basin to which his eyes soaked in the wispy fluid that formed in the bowl, glowing a yellowish hue that resembled harvested sunlight.

“Wow,” Midoriya breathed, snatching his tattered journal sewn of animal hides to quickly jot down words with a long feather quill as he mumbled to himself restlessly. “The progress seems to be increasing. Hopefully this time we have the potion correct, albeit the ingredients were really hard to scavenge and-” His string of thought was severed as he felt a sharp sting in the flesh of his ear, seconds later having realized that that was where Cyril had bitten him. He yelped and clutched the side of his face, simultaneously checking for blood. “What was that for!?”

“Look, you imbecile!” Snarled the dragon once more, yanking on his collar fervently.

Midoriya heeded to the beast’s impetuous behavior, dragging his gaze back to the basin. What once was a charming bubbly liquid, was now a hot smoldering mass that glazed with different chroma than the previous. An odd brownish purple tint to the frankly unappealing, murky amber substance. “That’s not supposed to happen, is it?” Midoriya crooked a finger in the direction of the steaming disappointment that now moiled and churned in on itself.

“What do you think?” Cyril cocked his head to the side, his slim reptilian features exuding the very finest dish of sarcasm that a scheming winged creature could offer.

Midoriya cursed bitterly in the language of the dragons, sparing himself none but the sight of the rising sun beyond the window ajar, before the forsaken concoction promptly blew up in his face. He hacked and wheezed, flailing his arms in an attempt to wave away the smoke that plumed into air and permeated every feasible crevice. He tasted the grimy ash and rancid fumes that flavored his saliva bitter and burned the inside of his nostrils. He opened his streaming eyes to gaze upon the char that coated all surfaces, ensuring another week of cleaning ahead of him.

Cyril retracted his claws from Midoriya’s shoulder and leaped away, flapping his razor-like wings in a flurry before landing onto the blackened table, sitting on his haunches stoutly. The dragon extended a claw to prod at the cap of a mushroom that began to grow in place of the backfired potion.

“I told you it was essence of brewed mushroom,” Cyril commented drily with a dull sense of gray humor.

“Kinda figured that,” Midoriya uttered keenly, concentrated on plucking off all of the mushrooms that cultivated, making themselves at home on his handcrafted attire. He leveled his eyes with one of the uninvited fungi, glaring at it as if it was an old adversary come back to haunt him. He rolled the stem between his fingers, thoroughly investigating the outcome of the failed draught.

“These are edible, by the way,” Cyril noted, chewing on a few of them himself. With further inspection, Midoriya could confirm that the mushrooms were undoubtedly palatable - to humans, at least. Dragons bore a staunchly digestive system that wouldn’t feeble to something as tedious as food poisoning.

“Interesting. With half of an Arcane Barrier Elixir, a tuft of dried skull grass, the soul of a toad, and a drop of essence of brewed mushroom; the outcome doubles as both a hefty smoke bomb and a food source!” Midoriya recited to himself as he sifted through his crammed data log again to record his discovery.

Cyril’s cerulean cat-like eyes narrowed, a misty third eyelid wiping across his orbs concurrently. “Izuku, you’re ranting again.”

Midoriya snapped the fattened book shut, tucking it under his arm. “But we have discovered something, nonetheless. Why hunt for toadstools when we can just use Dragon Alchemy to materialize them?”

“I think you’re skipping the point. Your past mentor would not encourage this reckless use of Alchemy,” Cyril picked at his gleaming olive scales with hooked obsidian claws, grooming himself apathetically. The small dragon tucked his head under his wing to gnaw on his itchy leg, while Midoriya found himself sighing wistfully in thought.

True, the previous keeper of the dragons was his teacher and a dear old friend. But only recently did the dragon master pass away, leaving Midoriya in his wake to finish the legacy of the Wyvern patriarchy. It was only natural that the boy take up this job, as he was gifted with the ability to speak the language at birth. But he still had a long winding path to go, with no foresight of where the future would lead him.

“I guess you’re right,” Midoriya slumped down into the nearest chair, disheartened.

Midoriya Izuku was unlike any dragon keeper alive. Mostly due to the fact that he was the last one alive. Dragons have a nasty habit of eating the hand that feeds them - and charring the rest to ash and bones for a light snack.

Midoriya was bestowed the unnatural talent that became his hope to further understand the magical culture birthed from the sacred beginnings of time itself. He was fluent in Draconispök, the long lost language of the Wyvern race. Ever since he was a baby, he could talk to dragons without a thought or care in his head. No matter how much he wondered why, he never really got the answer he desired.

But it was more complex than that, it seemed.

When you first find out that you can communicate with a fire breathing winged animal, you’d be elated. Only, if you knew what they had to say about you, the appeal forms the task to stay sane without hinder. So the journey of understanding the almost unapproachable mighty creatures became all the more difficult. Yet, Midoriya had a luckier break than most that tried to tame the dragons, due to his rare capabilities.

“I am not worthy enough to bear my mentor’s acclaimed title, nor am I ready to tell the world of his unfortunate passing,” Midoriya sank further into his crestfallen ideals, thick of heavy expectations to uphold.

Cyril noticed the boy’s change in temperament, that furtively disturbed his cold and twisted dragon heart. While he did not fancy Midoriya all that much, pertaining to the fact that he was a human and humans were lesser beings than dragons, Cyril preferred Midoriya above anyone else. He was the one who had rescued Cyril - the runt of the dragon spawn, from the fate of being ritually devoured alive by the fresh kin of the nest. So it was safe to say that Midoriya had carved a place for himself in the immoral heart of the wicked little beast.

“It’s been a fortnight since last,” Cyril reminded, reclining his neck back as he shook his wings out in a shiver from a gush of the cold air.

Midoriya perked up, the true meaning behind the statement gripping his attention steadfast. He leaned forward in his old wood chair, an excited grin gracing his plain but admirable features. “Do you think she has awoken from her slumber?”

Cyril was satisfied to succeed in tempting the boy out of his short-lived depressed state. With a practiced nod of his serpentine crested head, he spoke with a hiss accenting his cryptic bestial dialect; “The winds and skies are exceptional at this time of year, it would be unheard of if she did not at least desire to spread her wings for even one flight.”

As if struck by lightning, Midoriya bolted up out of his seat and straightened the hem of his tunic, accordingly brushing his lush basil curls away from his eyes in an attempt to look presentable. After all, she was very important.

“Oh, we’re going now?” Cyril stirred from his comfortable posture on the burned table, his slithery tongue curling out as he broke into a yawn.

“Of course we are! After all, when was the last time you got to stretched your wings?” Midoriya inquired, standing on his tip toes to reach the loop of his leather satchel that hung off the coat hooks in the doorway to his home.

Cyril bared his teeth smugly as he raised his hooked wings in poised interest. “Too long,” the dragon mused, ready to embark on whatever Midoriya had in mind.

The dragon leapt into Midoriya’s awaiting arms, who caught him with a harrowed breath at the realization of how heavy the creature really was. But Cyril had already begun to claw his way up Midoriya’s chest to roost on the boy’s shoulder, his tail swiping side to side incessantly. If anything, Cyril was fond of hitching a ride on Midoriya’s back whenever he got the chance.

Midoriya slung the overflowing satchel over his neck and stomped into his scratchy lamb skin boots like he had done it a thousand times - before reaching after the door handle. With a rusty squeal and a metallic snap, the door swung open to welcome inside the newborn light of day, it’s smooth milky glow glossing over every rustic surface in Midoriya’s modest home. The serene murmur of the ocean waves lapping at the pebbled shore echoed in the distance, accompanied by the blurred streams of sunlight that split apart into gleaming rays as seagulls soared through the air, casting shadows onto the envious ground below them.

Izuku stepped out into the open air, inhaling the sweet scent of the sea breeze, and the nectarous aroma of the perennials blooming in vibrant clusters at the very root of his dwelling. He breathed out with a smile, opening his eyes to the bluest morning sky that stretched to endless longitude. The boy felt like he could just reach out and stroke his fingers through the pearly clouds, quenching his delight.

Midoriya hiked up the handbag securely, then set his right foot forward to bound down the timbered steps leading away from the unsullied porch and onto the gravelly path winding through wispy cattails and berried thickets. He passed by a dip in the groves, where lifeforms resided without a care in the world.

“Good morning Elfin, Sarra, Lilith!” Midoriya hurriedly greeted with a wave as he passed by an aeire of three sluggish dragons that curled in and over one another to conserve heat. A few heads perked up, while ears flicked in annoyance.

“You’re rather noisy for a dragon keeper,” he heard Sarra the dragon grumble to herself, dismissing all known relevance in the boy. The other dragons chuckled among themselves. Midoriya was used to this by now, to be slandered by the cruel tongue of the unsociable beasts; that after time allowed Midoriya as the only human to be affiliated with them. Despite how dragons detested assistance from inferior species, they had accepted Midoriya’s existence a long while ago and finally ceased attempting to fry him into a human spit stick.  

“Express my good wishes to Häeldwrin for me, will you?” Izuku exclaimed as he drew out of earshot. He spoke of Häeldwrin the eldest dragon, near blind in his final days, and without teeth to boast his long since retired ferocity that had drained away over the years. The dragons could not refuse, but a hiss and peeved mutters escaped nonetheless.

At the foot of the mountain, Midoriya began to climb. He craned his neck, dismissing the weight of Cyril on his back that only seemed to get heavier each counting second. “Can’t you just use your wings?”

“You said yourself that you wanted a challenge to achieve your desired physique,” the winged reptile countered, leaving Midoriya with no excuse to uphold. It wasn’t a lie, after all.

“Alright then,” the young dragon keeper huffed dryly. No words were exchanged as the trek up the steep mountainside persevered, yet a single complaint had passed Midoriya’s lips when he lost his footing once and dragon fire nearly singed away his curly tendrils in surprise.

Subsequently, they had arrived at their destination in less time than it had taken them two weeks prior.

Cyril hopped off of the shoulder he had clung to for narrowly an hour, releasing Midoriya from the burn of over-exertion that relaxed his tired muscles. Finally, they had made it to the top of the peak.

“It seems we have more newcomers,” Cyril spoke lowly, the distaste prominent in his tone.

Sitting up, Midoriya found himself greeted by a swarm of pale infant little dragons. The size and stature of the dragons made sense immediately, but what really gave it away was the babbled chirping and excited squawking as the fresh life practically dive bombed him from above with poorly navigated flight capacity.

“Ow,” he simply uttered as a baby spit a weak but painful ball of fire onto the back of his hand. He rubbed it sorely, occupied in patting out all of the little flames that burst onto his clothes. But out of the din, a familiar presence warmed him from head to toe. He ceased his frantic motions and peered up.

“Izuku,” a mellow, enchanting breath of a voice graced his ears, the inviting hum of the beautiful beast seeming to lull the unruly newborns to a quiet. A smile spread, lightening Midoriya’s features as he too was calmed by the sound. Cyril the dragon willingly bowed down to the giver of the voice, as did Midoriya, who payed respect without wither to the ethereal Wyvern of gold and clouds.

“Zephyri, we hope you have slept well,” Midoriya raises his head, blessing his eyes with the sight of heaven on earth once more. There, in the dusk of the shallow cave, emerged the radiant being of light and skies itself. She went by many names; The Ruler of Dragons, the Goddess of the Winds, or as Midoriya has been gifted to call her; Zephyri. Her snowy white scales shone of crested gold, and horns as vibrant as the heavenward fire star.

Some speak of myth; tales of her glorious wings that carried the winds with her wherever she traveled. But Midoriya didn’t care for myth. He had witnessed it with his own unclouded eyes.

“Please, no need to bow to me,” the divine dragon nudged her snout against the boy’s chin, empowering him to rise to his feet again.

Midoriya stood with no question, beckoning Cyril to do the same. He watched as Zephyri sat on her haunches, the size comparison to Izuku fairing well. After all, she wasn’t the biggest dragon in history, but certainly not the smallest. “Look around you, Izuku,” she tilted her head towards the direction of the mountain’s edge. “What do you see?”

Not expecting to start off with a whimsical inquiry as such, Midoriya questioned hesitantly. “I’m not sure I understand?”

“Take a good look beyond, and tell me what you make of it.”

Doing so, Midoriya gazed out into the distance. He could see the valley where he would rejoice with the dragons regularly on starry nights, the small wooden cabin that he called home, the sandy shores of the endless beach, and-

“Oceans. I see oceans as far as the horizon,” he answered earnestly. How could he have not seen it before? It was such an easy question. He was surrounded by oceans, every direction flooded with what seemed like endless deep blue. Seas encircled the very island that he stood upon, claiming it’s peak. It was the only dragon island to still thrive to this very day.

Zephyri strode up behind Midoriya and spread her wings, head sinking down until her nose skimmed the ground. “We’ll soar the skies today, Izuku, and watch the water blur beneath us with unmatched speed.”

The keeper’s heart raced. He knew that we was excited but now he felt unstoppable. Hastily, Midoriya gripped onto the saddle that dipped between her pearly wings, and swung his leg up and over effortlessly. He could feel the purr of anticipation beneath the dragon’s scales. She was just as prepared to fly as he was.

Midoriya already knew where he wanted to go. He had a place carved out in his mind with vivid detail. He imagined a cliff, overlooking a grand palace dipped in silvery rays of sunlight. Izuku knew that was where he had to go, because without a doubt - he’d stumble across a roaming prince.

Silence hastened as Zephyri leaned forward off the edge of the looming cliff, awaiting the one command that would set her free. It fell from Midoriya’s lips flawlessly and unsullied; the superior dialect of the dragons.

“Aeridirys,” he whispered. “Fly with me.”

Faster than the speed of sound, Zephyri leapt from the cliff, gliding through the sky with a swiftness unlike any other.

[To be continued]

Up next: A meeting with the Prince

After three years of studying computer science/engineering at university I think I can make a sort of post about this matter. There are some misconceptions about IT degrees. So many. In the following lines, I’ll try to put together the main ones I currently have faced. I’ve been asked to make a post like this some time ago, so here it is. I’m focusing on computer science/computer engineering since it’s what I am studying.

The summer before I started my first year of university I was freaking out. Not only did I go to study at university but also I was going to study computer science/engineering! I love computers and that, but little did I know about computers to be honest. So my first thought was what computer should I buy. And here we go with the classic macbook vs laptop battle. My dad bought me a laptop so I didn’t think about really about this (as a note, it’s not the best laptop, but it’s enough at least for now). If you are wondering what computer should you buy for computer science, but you whatever you like the most, but I suggest you to have in mind that it doesn’t matter if you choose a laptop or a macbook. If you have enough money and you want a macbook, go for it. If you don’t or you don’t like macbook, you have other options. Choose wisely.

I was told that I would be the only girl in the class. Well, so the first day of university came and I couldn’t see a single girl in the hall. It turned out that there were about 12 girls in my class and about 80 boys (depending on the class). In my last semester I’ve been in a class where I was the only girl and as a consequence of several classes being minority, I get used to be the only girl and I felt stronger someway.

One thing more I was told it was that people on this degrees were a bunch of nonsocial, unatracttive and weird genius. To be honest this was something that scared me too, because I didn’t want to be alone. But again, this was untrue; of course, there are a few weird people, but mostly of them are nice people. I haven’t still seen a genius, just hard-working people.

I realized since the very beginning of my academic journey that when I told people what I am studying, there are three reactions I can observe in people:

  1. The “pfff, that’s a difficult degree” reaction.
  2. The “pfff, that’s a difficult degree for a woman” reaction.
  3. The *open the mouth for a while and say nothing* reaction.

But is computer science or computer engineering difficult?”, that’s another thought that made me head spin. All right, it is. I am not going to lie. It is difficult. Really difficult, but once you get the hang of studying, organizing and thinking, everything will be easier. Personally I wasted a year trying to learn how to think and study for the classes. I was stuck into the high school habits and I didn’t want to change them. If I have learnt something about university (or life) is that you have to be ready for switching and don’t be afraid of changes.

I would like to work as a computer scientist/computer engineer/software engineer/… but I’m not good at mathematics/physics/…”. Okay, computer science/engineering is difficult but not that hard (I may slightly lie in the aforementioned question, except calculus, calculus is evil). I mean, professors start with the very basics of every class, and it isn’t usually very difficult. Plus most of them are willing to clear up your questions in office hours. I have some friends who are really bad at maths and they have passed all the algebra and calculus classes. Also I have friends that didn’t want to study an IT degree, though they’d love to, because of this reason. Don’t be the person who didn’t study something because of a few hard classes. You’ll regret later.

After a couple of month, studying computer science/engineering, some people start wondering why we are studying physics, electronics and math, “when are we going to start hacking?”. Oh, well. That’s a good question. Never. WE DON’T LEARN TO HACK in university. In my first year, many classmates drop out of computer science because of this single reason. They thought they’ll learn how to hack.

At least, I will code a lot!”. Sorry again, but you are going to be programming less than you would expect. At my university, we take only 6-7 classes focused on just programming in the four years of the degree.

When you assume that most of the things you believe are not true, you’ll know more or less if you like this degree or you don’t. At the same time, people are going to ask for help. Yes, the “can you fix my [insert here ANY electronic device]?” and “can you tell me how to [any action] in [any program or website]?”. You can’t get away of these questions. Believe me or not, but if you get involved in an IT degree you are not going to study how to delete a Facebook account. You may or not may be surprised of this, but a great amount of people has asked me this question. Plus, we don’t learn how to fix smartwatches. Surprise!

At this point, people wonder what the hell computer science/engineering is about. Algebra, calculus, physics, electronics, robotics, algorithms, AI, data structures, computer security, networks, computational complexity,…

If you prefer to work solo, I have bad news for you, because you’ll need to work in teams. And this is really difficult to achieve. You will find both people who work and who don’t. You have to find a balance between your time and the others’, learn to organize the time and the work for the team project and don’t be afraid of reasonably arguing if the project is at risk. This is something to keep in mind as much as presentations skills. Yes, you need to talk in public about your work, if not in university, it will be in any job interview.  I have actually been the worst talking in public since always, but when after all the presentations I have done, I have became better. You’ll become better. So come on.