no one even understands how much i'm laughing at this right now

deal | pt 1 (m)

Originally posted by sugamysavagebaby

summary: the years spent working hard had really paid off and was it so wrong to want to rub that in a few faces? The cliché mean girls that often teased you for not doing anything with your hair or clothing, wouldn’t it be great to show off someone like Jungkook? High school reunion au + ceo!jeon

word count: 6,366 

part two | part three 


Eyes like ice, cold and calculating narrow over the rim of a wine glass. Soft lips press to the polished glass, the crimson complimenting tan skin. If it weren’t for the soft dent between his brows you would have assumed he had not heard you. He takes his time allowing the wine to caress his palate, eyes closed as he savors the taste.  As always, he makes you wait until the wine glass is drained of it’s dark contents. You ponder on the taste, if it is bitter upon his tongue much like his words.

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That Really Happened (M)

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 2,864

Summary: You and Jungkook have been best friends since you were little kids, but it turns out that the games you used to play together have different results as adults.

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Langst Headcanon

Soo, I’m really new to the fandom but when I discoverd the Langst Tag, I was surprised by how much I needed it! There are soooo many good langst things out here. Well, this is my share:

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Something There

Overview: Four years have passed since the war and you and Draco are now soon to be married. But as his insecurities catch up to him, he begins to wonder why someone like you would ever want to be with a former Death Eater like him. For who could ever learn to love a beast?

Word Count: About 1,400.

Warning(s): Some fluffy fluff.

Note: Draco x Reader Beauty and the Beast retelling loosely based off of “Something There” (see below).


Draco watched as you twirled around the kitchen of the Malfoy Manor, a sterling silver spoon in hand. In a cozy robe and pajamas, he thought you were quite a sight. His favorite sight in the world, nevertheless.

“One more week,” you sang. “That’s seven more days until we’re married.” After placing your dishes in the sink, you sat down at the dining table next to Draco. “Can you imagine?”

“Seeing as we already live together,” said he, gesturing to the vast interior of the manor, “I quite easily can.”

You nudged him with your elbow. “It’s still not the same. Soon, we’ll be Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy.” You paused. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Although he replied with a nod, Draco couldn’t help but frown at the sound of his last name. What was once a word he flaunted about and held to the highest esteem had turned into a scarlet letter after the Second Wizarding War.

He furrowed his eyebrows, dragging his spoon along the rim of his bowl. Soon, you would bear the name Malfoy. Malfoy. A name tarnished and sent to Azkaban and back as nothing more than a patch on his parents’ clothing.

And the more he thought about it, the more Draco realized that wasn’t a burden he wanted to share with you.
__________

A day passed and Draco still had an unsettling feeling in his stomach. It wasn’t uncommon for him to wear long-sleeved shirts, but now he could hardly bare glancing at his Dark Mark.

Is this what being a Malfoy meant?

“Draco,” you said, climbing into the bed as you stared at his back, “what’s the matter?”

He tucked his hand under a pillow. “Nothing, love. Just tired, is all.”

“I don’t believe you.” He felt the mattress shift ever so slightly as you drew nearer to him. “Before all else, Draco, I am your friend. Before being your fiancée, your girlfriend, your anything– I’m still just your best friend.” You peered over at him, his eyes focused on the wall. “So why on earth would you expect me to believe that lie?”

Sighing, Draco turned on his other side to face you, propping himself up on his arm. He noticed the way you scrunched your nose in concern, a wrinkle appearing between your eyebrows.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong, babe,” you pleaded. Your face softened as you examined his tired eyes, bringing your hand to brush against the cold skin of his face. “Is it the wedding? Are we going into this too soon?”

“No, of course not. It’s not–” He took a deep breath, unsure of what he wanted to say. Draco captured your hand in his, pulling it near his chest. He stroked the calloused pad of his thumb against your knuckles absentmindedly. “If I had to describe you in one word, it would be perfection.”

You quirked an eyebrow, unsure of how to react. “I’m no where near perfect, but– Don’t try to change the subject.”

He let out an indignant chuckle. “I wasn’t finished. I only meant…Just look at yourself and then look at me.”

“I see a witch and a wizard.”

“Funny,” said Draco with a straight face. “But really look. Because when I look at you, I see a compassionate, intelligent woman who fights for what’s right.” His eyes darted to his clothed forearm, the black mark almost visible through his white night shirt. “When I look at myself, I see is a monster. A beast. A coward, at best.”

You stayed silent, Draco’s hand still in yours. “I think your perception is tainted,” you said, withdrawing your hand from his to gently push back at his sleeve. He caught sight of a sliver of his Dark Mark, causing him to wince. Draco saw you reaching for a black marker next to your journal on the nightstand.

You uncapped it, taking hold of his hand.

“What are you–”

You silenced him with a brief kiss on the lips. You sat up and moved his arm onto your lap. “When I see you, Draco, I see someone who shouldn’t be defined by their mistakes.”

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You're my best friend

I just got my hair cut and I’m feeling overly emotional, and I don’t know how these two things relate, but here have some sterek.

They have been together for a while now. They just got their first apartment together, and saying that both of them were high on love (for each other) and hope (for a new happy life) would be quite the understatement.

There had been a time when either of them had thought that they could never have the other, that after Derek left they would never find each other again, and they had never even thought possible that one day they could have a place, a home together. And yet, here they were.

They just finished mounting their new bed, and Stiles falls on the bare mattress with a satisfied “oof” Derek following shortly after him.

And it’s then that somehow it hits Stiles. It hits him so hard and so suddenly that he’s so overwhelmed with it that his eyes burn and he wants to yell it at the top of his lungs, but at the same time the emotion is so strong that clogs up his throat, and he can barely manage to speak.

So, he just makes a small noise (all he can muster right now) and rolls over to Derek’s side, throwing one arm over Derek’s body and burying his face into Derek’s neck.

Derek huffs out a surprised laugh, but promptly starts rubbing his back soothingly.

“Derek,” Stiles mumbles, when he finds his voice again.

Derek hums questioningly and Stiles hugs him close, a little bit tighter, before he gets out of his hiding spot and looks up at his boyfriend.

“You’re my best friend.” He says, all intense, earnest and sincere eyes.

Because it’s true. Yes, Scott is the friend he knew longer, they had their high and lows and highs again, and he’s like a brother, but that’s just it, Scott is his brother.

Derek is his best friend.

Derek is the person that he thinks about first when he’s thought of a stupid joke and wants to share it with someone. Derek is the one he looks for when he wants to tell someone about what his favourite character is going through, even if it’s a show or a book that Derek hasn’t watched yet. Derek is the name on his lips when he wants to tell or show someone how he managed to do something, even if it’s just as ordinary and banal as Stiles managing to doodle a real-looking wolf shadow, he knows that even if his first reaction would be to roll his eyes, he’d do so smiling in that warm way that always tell Stiles so many things. Like how loved he is, and how Derek is proud of him, even for the little things. And Derek is the one that he glances up to look at before he even knows why.

And that’s why he hates fighting with him so much, because he’s fighting with his boyfriend and best friend. And really, there’s no one in his life that can match with everything that Derek means to him. Derek is his special person, everyone has their special person, don’t they?

And Derek is Stiles’ person.

And yes, Derek is his boyfriend, and they had already said their ‘I love you’s to each other a long time ago, but Derek is also, and maybe most importantly, Stiles’ best friend too, and Stiles really needs him to know that.

“You’re my best friend,” he repeats, because he needs him to understand.

And of course, because Derek is his everything plus his best friend, smiles small and understanding, before he leans down to kiss him on the corner of his mouth, feather-light and all softness, and whispers “you’re my best friend, too.”

And Stiles knows that Derek understands, because he can see in his eyes that Stiles is his person too.

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Concept: Mickey and Emil have been friends basically since they both began skating. They’re really close, and when I say close I mean HELLA. Sleepovers, friendship bracelet exchange when they were 12 (Emil still wears his outside of skating, and while Mickey will never admit it he still keeps his in his wallet of all places), the whole deal. Sara is also part of their friend group, but she’s definitely not as close to Emil as Mickey is.

And then puberty hits and Mickey suddenly becomes very aware of Emil and his closeness to Sara. In reality, nothing’s really changed, but he’s begun to get a weird tight feeling in his chest whenever he sees Emil smiling and laughing with Sara. He begins to be a lot more protective over Sara because that’s what it’s gotta be, right? Sara is getting prettier each year, and as her big brother he has a responsibility to keep men from taking advantage of her. Even if it’s Emil, who he’s known for years. Anyways, there’s nothing else this feeling can be, right? Right. Nothing more than protectiveness.

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zarohk  asked:

So, I'm not totally sure the timelines match up, but do you think that Rachel's sisters (especially Sarah who is younger and more naive) could have watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer and decided that Rachel is the Slayer? Goes out at night, all hours, secret boyfriend who only visits her at night, can't tell their single mom, etc.

[First of all: the timelines do actually match up quite well.  In #20 there’s a brief mention of David’s dad (of all people) watching Buffy on TV, and although Animorphs started and ended first most of its run overlaps with Buffy.  Second, I LOVE this idea so much.  Rachel and Buffy are two of the people who were massively influential in teaching me and my friends that it was possible to be girly and tough at the same time.  Third… Voila.]

It starts as a way to distract her sisters, on the nights when their mom can’t make it home and their dad is too busy to call—Rachel will put on whichever Buffy episode she’s got saved in the DVR and all three of them will watch it together.  However, all three of them fall in love with the show over time, until they’re catching each episode live: Sarah laughs at all the puns and hums along with the theme song while Jordan waxes poetical about how dreamy Spike and Angel are.  

Rachel just loves Buffy herself, because there aren’t enough girls on TV that can look that fabulous and kick butt at the same time.  It becomes a weekly ritual, one that Rachel sometimes has to miss if Cassie or Jake calls with urgent news, but she’ll put aside anything short of the alien invasion to catch it with her sisters.

*****************

Jordan meets Rachel at the door, which is a bad sign because their mom and Sarah are both asleep and Rachel herself went to bed six hours ago.  The mission was long, nasty, and exhausting, the way they always are, and Rachel’s too keyed-up from the adrenaline rush to think of a proper excuse for why she’s sneaking in.  

She and Jordan stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, Rachel leaning on the door frame, Jordan holding a comic book in both hands as she sits on the end table in the foyer.  Jordan becomes the first one to speak.  “Sarah and I were talking,” she says.  “And I think we figured it out.”  

Rachel feels her stomach churn.  She’s not as careful with her sisters as her mom.  She never has been.  “Figured what out?”

“It’s okay.”  Jordan clutches her comic book a little more closely, expression solemn.  “We won’t tell Mom.”

Rachel crosses her arms.  “Won’t tell her what, exactly?”

Jordan thrusts the comic book at Rachel.  The cover shows a girl—Buffy Summers, judging by the title—holding a wooden stake in one hand and a sword in the other, her blond hair whirling around her as she thrusts the sword at a spike-covered greyish creature in the corner of the frame.  

Rachel takes a step back from the comic, not sure whether to laugh or to cry.  

“It explains everything.  Where you sneak out to almost every night.  Why you’ve got blood under your fingernails half the time when you get home.  Why you’ve got a secret boyfriend who only comes out at night—”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Rachel says reflexively.

Jordan nods, eyes wide.  “Uh-huh.  So you definitely weren’t seen by half the school at last week’s dance with a mysterious guy who has blond hair and is never seen around town.  You don’t have a boyfriend, even though I’ve heard people talking in your room in the middle of the night.  And you always leave your window open, even—especially—when it rains.  Almost like you’re waiting for a secret vampire boy—”

Rachel snorts a laugh.  “Tobias isn’t a vampire.”

Which has exactly the opposite effect than the one she intended.  “Oh my god,” Jordan whispers.  “Tobias as in that guy who disappeared last year? Everyone thought he died—” She gasps.  “Unless he did die.  And now he’s back!”

Much as Rachel wants to laugh and keep laughing until she falls over, she understands that this conversation actually has serious implications.  With effort she sobers herself.  “Look,” she says at last.  “There are things… Things I can’t tell you.  You wouldn’t be safe if I did.”  

She looks Jordan in the eye.  Jordan is taking this conversation seriously—probably more seriously than Rachel herself, for that matter.  “I understand,” Jordan says.  

“As soon as…”  As soon as the war’s over.  “As soon as it’s safe.  I’ll tell you everything.  Right now, there are things I can’t talk to you, or to Mom, about.  But someday I will.  I promise.”  Rachel can’t be more honest than that.  

“Okay.”  Jordan bites her lip.  “I just wanted you to know your secret’s safe with me.  And if you ever need help, like, hiding a body…”

Rachel smiles, overwhelmed with fondness.  “Thanks.”  She yawns.  “Now, if it’s all right with you, Dawn…”

Jordan makes a face.  

“I’m wiped, so I’m going to bed.”  She walks past Jordan and up the stairs to her room.  

“Rachel!”

She turns around.  Jordan is standing at the bottom of the stairs, hugging her comic book against her chest with both hands.  

“On the show,” she says haltingly.  “They say a lot about how slaying’s a dangerous job.  About how most slayers don’t live to be twenty.”  There’s real fear in her eyes, as she looks up at her sister.  

Rachel grins, tossing her hair over her shoulder.  “Really, Jordan, you should learn not to believe everything you see on TV.  After all, it’s just a show.  No vampire’s gonna take me down.”  

****************************

“You know, my sister thinks you’re William the Bloody.”

«Who’s that, a spokesman for Kotex?»

***************************

She doesn’t get much input on the actual headstone; she’s too young for that.  She does, however, manage to put in a special request for the plaque on the statue they erect outside of Washington D.C., a proud grizzly bear rearing up to defend the Capitol.  

Rachel Daniella Berenson, the plaque reads.  She saved the world.  A lot.  

Old Habits Die Hard

Bucky x Reader

REQUEST: Bucky with number’s 85. What’s wrong with me missing you?, 95. Tell me you need me., and 110. I’m sorry if I don’t want you to die!

Summary: In her eyes Bucky’s moved on, and she slowly is too, but when a mission goes haywire, he realizes just how much he misses her.

Warnings: pure angst, swearing, brief violence. (you’re going to hate me, yikes) I strongly suggest that you listen to Another Sad Love Song by Khalid, it’s loosely based on the song as well. Also, please read the comment and you’ll understand why I ended it the way I did. Hope y’all understand xx

Word Count: 2.8k+

Originally posted by buckybass

It wasn’t suppose to go down this way. The breakup was amicable. It wasn’t worth the angry tears and screaming matches in the middle of the night whenever Bucky came home late. She missed the old Bucky. The Bucky that would come home every day and shower her with love and affection, but then he disappeared. The good morning kisses halted and tight goodbye hugs became loose. She tried talking to him about it, but he just brushed it off and went to bed.

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highwarlockkareena  asked:

'i'm going to have to start writing alec being scrunched up next to magnus' - tell us more about how magnus' bed isn't quite big enough for them

the first time magnus really noticed it, it was a tuesday afternoon and he’d just stepped through a portal back into the loft after a meeting negotiating the sale of an old book of spells with a couple of warlocks. the meeting had gone on far longer than he had anticipated and time had seemed to be something like a leaky faucet, dripping too slowly and making magnus want to crawl out of his skin.

he was out now though, the loft greeting him bright and cheery with bright sunlight spilling through the curtains as he scrolled through his phone. he had about an hour until his next client and he wanted to change into something a bit more comfortable. it wasn’t necessary but at the moment he didn’t feel like summoning anything in a 3 piece suit, something lighter seemed more appropriate.

or at least that’s what he had been thinking until he came to an abrupt halt in the doorway to the bedroom, caught in streaming sunlight because of the sight laid out before him. there on top of his deep burgundy sheets, alec was a splash of black clothes and runed skin, all curled up in on himself on one side of the bed. the first thing magnus noticed was that his t-shirt had ridden up, exposing his stomach and all of the dark hair that spilled down his torso and disappeared into his pants.

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ok so I promised viktuuri baby headcanons and I’m here to deliver

this is pretty much a thread on twitter, but I’ll consolidate it here for convenience:

  • I hope Viktor and Yuuri become really embarrassing co-coach dads to their adopted daughter one day.
  • They’d probably name her Lyuba, because she’s the embodiment of their life and LOVE. Plus Lyuba Katsuki sounds really cute.
  • Viktor is a fan of L words after all, so I’m like 99.9% sure he’d give his kid a name beginning with L.
  • Nicknames: Lyubochka, Lyubov (thanks @3ubra).
  • I feel like she’d somehow have Viktor’s exact personality and heart-shaped smile despite being completely adopted.
  • Physically, she looks like Yuuri’s mom (which is part of the reason why they adopted her).
  • ((but her hair ends up wavy as she gets older, she has multiple beauty marks scattered on her face, and a tooth gap. She’s an absolute charmer))
  • Anyway she’s a horrible, spoiled heathen that makes Yuuri go prematurely gray because he is definitely the overprotective hover dad.
  • Meanwhile, Viktor is the free spirit papa that interprets her brattiness and tantrums as “self expression” and spoils her ten ways to Sunday.
  • ((they both spoil her though, let’s be real. Yuuri just tries to be subtle about it))
  • (((he isn’t)))
  • Obviously when she’s a kid, she clings to Viktor and favors him while saying awful things like “I don’t like daddy, he’s sooo boring.”
  • Yuuri’s heart breaks a lot but Viktor is there to pick up the pieces and Lyuba has him wrapped around her finger so he doesn’t mind being walked all over… :,)
  • ((tbh the only reason she’s so callous is because kids are kinda cruel until they learn other people have feelings too))
  • Because she’s a lot like Viktor, she also picks up on Yuuri’s moods really easily (which is why she’s so good at manipulating him into getting what she wants)
  • But my point is, when Yuuri has bad days and Viktor isn’t there and even Makkachin can’t help, Lyuba kinda just crawls into his lap and cheers him up…
  • She’ll push a picture she drew of their whole family into Yuuri’s face or yank at his face and ears until Yuuri gets out of his head and looks at her, and she just grins this huge ol’ smile that reminds Yuuri of Viktor so bad his heart melts and he can’t help but return it…
  • Then when Lyuba knows Yuuri is giving her his undivided attention, she babbles stories to take his mind off the bad thoughts……. :,,,,)
  • Later when Viktor comes home, he finds Yuuri asleep on the couch with Lyuba sprawled on his chest and Makkachin curled over Yuuri’s feet.
  • (Also Lyuba definitely has a Swar*vski crystal tiara tangled in her hair because you know she would)
  • This is Viktor’s phone lock screen if this wasn’t already obvious.
  • Lyuba goes on to skate and be a world champion and makes her dads proud, both as coaches and as parents
  • (Yuri is probably her ballet instructor)
  • Speaking of Yuri, he babysits occasionally when he’s not busy and is a terrible terrible influence, teaches her how to prank her fathers and push the other kids into the sand lol.
  • Yuri is the favorite uncle. Yuuri thinks it’s cute up until he realizes how bad of an influence Yuri is.
  • Viktor is like “but Yuuri they’re getting along so well!” And Yuuri is like “This is not the kind of getting along I wanted!!”
  • Yuuri has a three page list in small font of recommended activities for them to do while he and Viktor go out. Yuri chucks it in the trash.
  • Mila babysits too, and she’s the only one Yuuri knows he can actually trust with his child (hell if he could raise Lyuba with Mila, he would).
  • Georgi tried to babysit once, but Lyuba bullied him about his hair so much, the he cancelled early an went home crying.
  • Yakov and Lilia are the only two “babysitters” that are stern with her, and Lyuba actually behaves herself around them.
  • Yakov is also convinced that Lyuba is Viktor’s secret love child because she is far too much like him to be just adopted.
  • He tells all his conspiracy theories to Lilia, who finds holes in all of them.
  • Yuuri’s parents adore her to pieces: they insist they bring her to Japan for the coming of age ceremonies, and dress her up for every holiday.
  • Mari looks after her if everyone else is busy, and Lyuba really likes her aunt Mari’s piercings.
  • Minako wants to immediately raise her into the next skating prodigy, which Yuuri protests.
  • Chris and Phichit mail her extravagant gifts all the time.
  • In general, Lyuba grows up pretty well known in the entire worldwide skating community as the child of two of the greatest male figure skaters in history.
  • Of course when she’s older, Lyuba’s affection is a lot more even, she loves both her fathers equally and if she approaches one individually, it’s just because he handles the problem better than the other one would.
  • She’s actually really embarrassed by how bratty she was as a kid. Yuuri and/or Viktor often recount stories while she screeches at them to stop.
  • Even Yuri tries to embarrass her sometimes. “You may be a world gold medal champion, but I changed your diapers.”
  •  Yuri, tossing back a flask: “I let you vomit on me so your dads could go on a date and get some action at a hotel, as if they were still in their honeymoon period.”
  • Lyuba, covering her face: “Oh my god please stop.”
  • She apologizes to Yuuri for being such a jerk as a kid and Yuuri is like, “I married your papa, I signed up for this.”
  • MEANWHILE, VIKTOR,
  • Viktor: oh Lyubochka don’t worry, your daddy likes being bullied and bossed around ;)
  • Lyuba: I want to die immediately
  • Yuuri: *already ascending*
  • He’d be the horrible parent that drops hints about his sex like with his husband now that their kid is an adult 
  • Though let’s be real; why wait until she’s an adult? Viktor is shameless and Yuuri is constantly covering their Lyuba’s ears.
  • “VIKTOR SHUSH, LYUBA IS RIGHT THERE!!!!" 
  • "Yuuri, our daughter is one and a half, she has the memory of an earth worm. We can have sex while she naps as long as we don’t wake her up.”
  • Poor Yuuri, between Viktor being himself and their daughter’s rebellious years he has so many gray hairs.
  • Yuri comes over like "oh my god I thought Asian people aged well.”
  • What Yuuri wants to say: “I’m kinda trying to raise the literal spawn of Satan, with the Devil himself”
  • What he does say: “not when they’re married to Viktor Nikiforov they don’t!!”
  • Viktor just kind of shrugs and tries to look innocent while cradling Lyuba.
  • It was in that moment that Yuri decided he would never ever get married.
  • He tells this to Mila, who’s engaged to Sara, at practice the next day and she laughs in his face and says “give it time.”

Anyway, that’s all I have so far, I’m probably going to eventually write a mini series about Viktor and Yuuri retiring and then adopting/raising Lyuba.

anonymous asked:

Hi! I'm going to Guatemala soon to teach children there English. Any tips you might have to strengthen my Spanish before I go? Do you have any methods or phrases that are especially good to use when talking/teaching with children? If you have any advice on teaching language I would love to hear it❤️❤️ I love your blog!

¡Hola!
That’s awesome!

If you know already all Spanish tenses including the subjunctive, I think one of the main things you can do to strengthen your Spanish is to learn the Guatemalan slang, which they call it “chapinismo”.
Honestly, I don’t know much about chapinismo. I watched a video about the difference between Mexican and Guatemalan slang, and omg! it’s so different.
But here, I leave you some webpages with a loooot of chapinismo :)

Videos:

(Maybe the second one is a little bit more difficult to understand but maybe it can also be useful to practice listening comprehension hehe)

I also learned that they call themselves (between friends) with “vos”, not “tú”. They use “usted” in formal situations, “tú” in informal situations, and “vos” in even more informal situations. Note!: They use “tú” in conversations between a man and a woman. If a man calls another man “tú” it can be interpreted as the man is homosexual.

Now,

phrases that we use at school:

Siéntate - Sit down (singular)
Siéntense - Sit down (plural)
Siéntense en sus lugares. - Sit on your own seats. (plural)

Párate: Stand up (singular)
Párense: Stand up (plural)

¡Silencio! - Slience!
¡No griten! -  Don’t scream/shout!
Escuchen - Listen (plural)
Pórtate bien - Behave yourself (singular)
Pórtense bien - Behave yourself (plural)
No se rían de su compañero/a - Don’t laugh at your classmate
No coman en clase. - Don’t eat in class.
No lleguen tarde. - Don’t be late

Hagan una fila - Make a line (plural)
Fórmense - Make a line (plural)
Hagan una rueda / un círculo - Make a circle (plural)

Repitan - Repeat (plural)
Repite después de mí - Repeat after me (singular)
Repitan después de mí - Repeat after me (plural)

Pongan atención. - Pay attention. (plural)

Alcen la mano - Raise your hand (plural)
Alce la mano quien sepa la respuesta correcta. - Raise your hand if you know the right answer.
Miren/Vean al pizarrón - Look at the blackboard (plural)
Gabriel pasa al frente - Gabriel come to the front
¿Quién quiere pasar al frente? - Who wants to come to the front?

¿Entendiste? - Did you understand? (singular)
¿Entendieron? - Did you understand? (plural)
¿Quién no entendió? - Who didn’t understand?

Hagan/Formen parejas -  Make couples
Trabajen en parejas - Work in couples
Hagan/Formen equipos de 3, 4, 5, etc. - Make teams of 3, 4, 5…
Trabajen en equipos de 3, 4, 5, etc. - Work in teams of 3, 4, 5…
Van a ser dos equipos de 3 y uno de 4. - It’s going to be two teams of 3 and one of 4.
Daniel, vas a trabajar con Laura y con Carlos. - Daniel, you’re going to work with Laura and Carlos.
Escojan sus parejas/equipos. - Choose your couples/teams.
Es individual - It’s individual (work on your own)
Trabajen solitos. - Work on your own (plural)

examen escrito - written exam
examen oral - oral exam

Mañana hay examen - Tomorrow we have exam.
No copien. - Don’t copy.
No volteen a ver a su compañero. - Don’t turn to look at your classmate.
El examen no es en equipos. - The test is not in teams.

tarea - homework
revisar la tarea - to check the homework
calificar - to grade
calificación - grade

correcto: correct, right
mal / incorrecto: wrong (not “equivocado”)

buenas calificaciones - good grades
malas calificaciones - bad grades
sacar buenas calificaciones. - to get good grades

¿Sabías que…? - Did you know…? (singular)
¿Sabían que…? - Did you know…? (plural)

recreo / receso - recess (to go out to have lunch)
descanso - break (just about 5~15 min.)

Junta de padres de familia. - Parents meeting

Things kids say:
Maestra, ¿puedo ir al baño? - Teacher, can I go to the bathroom?
Después de tu compañero/a - After your classmate.
Después de que regrese Sofía. - After Sofía comes back.
Sí, pero no te tardes. - Yes, but don’t take too long.

Maestro, Luis me está molestando. - Teacher, Luis is bothering me.
Luis, deja de molestar a tu compañero/a. - Luis, stop bothering your classmate.
Luis, deja de molestar a Arturo. - Luis, stop bothering Arturo.
Luis, te voy a mandar a la dirección - Luis, I’ll send you to the principal.
Luis, cámbiate de lugar. - Luis, change your sit.

Maestra, me siento mal. - Teacher, I’m feeling sick.
¿Qué tienes? - What’s wrong?
Vamos a la enfermería. - Let’s go to the infirmary.

No traje la tarea. - I didn’t bring my homework.

*I don’t know about Guatemala, but in México is common to call female teachers “Miss” especially English teachers, and call male English teachers “Teacher”.

I don’t know how old your students will be, but a lot of kids learn English vocabulary with this song: Pollito Chicken 
I also thought these songs where great: Aprender inglés cantando canciones infantiles 


I hope this was useful! If you still have questions well free to ask me again :)
¡Buena suerte en Guatemala! :D

what were you dreaming about?

Requested.

masterlist

word count: 1,242

**warning: SMUT**

My first time staying the night at Shawn’s, I was awoken by what I thought was Shawn talking. I rolled over and looked at the clock, thinking it was morning. However, it was only midnight. I thought I had heard Shawn’s voice, which made me think it was morning already. I rested my head on the pillow again and my head sunk into it. Not long after drifting back to sleep, I heard Shawn once more. He spoke softly, but he was normally not one to talk in his sleep, or so he said. Then, I heard what he was saying.

“You’re so tight, Y/N.” Shawn moaned lowly. My eyes widened at what I heard. I rolled over to inspect, to see if what I thought was happening was actually happening. I pulled the blanket back slowly, trying my hardest to not wake him. Shawn was still sound asleep, but groaning my name with his large hand palming his erection. I nearly gasped at what I saw. Of course Shawn and I’d had sex before, but this was an exciting event for my first time staying the night at Shawn’s place.

I tried to wait it out, tried to wait to see if Shawn’s moans would cease. However, they did not. At least ten minutes had passed and he was still moaning my name along with, I’ll admit, quite filthy dirty talk. I reached to move Shawn’s hand from his length. I now rested my hand over him and began to kiss his jawline. I kissed sweetly, pressing my lips hard against his skin. With no response to my kisses, I decided to press my lips against Shawn’s skin more lustfully. My tongue slipped between my lips and glided over his cheek and a small amount of stubble hairs. My mouth hovered over Shawn’s ear. I exhaled deeply, not really knowing what to say.

“Shawn, wake up.” I said. From what Shawn has previously told me, he was a light sleeper. This was evidently true because as soon as I spoke to him, he woke up.

“Hmm?” He hummed. I smirked thinking about what I was going ask him. He hadn’t realized the position of my hand over his crotch yet or that my leg was draped over his. I sat up in bed and looked down at Shawn, who looked so sleepy at the moment.

“What were you dreaming about?” I asked, giggling slightly. I waited for a reaction that was delayed because of Shawn being only halfway awake. Even with how dark the room was, I could still see Shawn’s eyes widen thanks to the bright moon shining in through the blinds.

“What?” He questioned, acting like he didn’t hear or understand me.

“You know what I said.” I smirked at him. The cool glow of the moon through the window still allowed me to see Shawn’s cheeks turn a deep, flushed shade of pink. I placed my hand on Shawn’s lower abdomen, which was thankfully bare.

“You.” He said bluntly, as if that weren’t obvious. Shawn looked genuinely embarrassed but hearing the way he whimpered my name made me ache for him. “How much did you hear?” When I told him I had been listening for a while, his flesh turned even redder. He covered his face with his hands and groaned.

“So what exactly was I doing in this dream you were enjoying so much?” I asked Shawn finally. He looked up at me, into my eyes.

“Riding me,” he gulped. I had never done that before, so it was understandable why he would dream that. I pictured the thought of riding Shawn, me being in complete control. I felt myself grow wetter, moisture pooling in my panties. I moved over Shawn, moving one leg over one side of his body and the other leg to the other side. I looked up into his eyes when my fingers reached the waistband of his boxers. He nodded his head swiftly and I pulled the fabric off of him.

Shawn now laid below me completely nude and already with a full hard on. His long fingers tugged at the lace of my underwear then tossed them to the side. I hovered over his length before rubbing my slick folds up and down him. I nearly moaned when I moved up just barely too far and the head of his cock almost slipped into me. At this point, Shawn and I were beyond ready. Shawn reached over to his nightstand for a condom. He quickly tore it open and rolled it on.

My small hand wrapped around the base of his length. I lined Shawn up with my entrance and sunk down onto him. He bottomed out on the very first thrust, causing us to whimper in unison.

“In my dream you didn’t have a shirt on.” Shawn breathed out but chuckled while telling me. I rolled my eyes at him then threw my shirt at him. He caught it and threw it to the floor. I placed my hands on his upper abdomen and gripped onto him. My hips moved up then back down slowly to take in all of his cock.

Shawn’s hands gripped onto my thighs while I bounced on him. I kept the pace slow, trying let this last as long as possible. Shawn became impatient with the speed and thrusted his hips up. I looked up at him and saw droplets of sweat dripping down his forehead and that his hair was getting damp already. He still bucked his hips up, meeting me halfway with my thrusts.

“So tight and wet, baby.” Shawn groaned. I moaned as well when Shawn hit just the right spot. I rode him at the same angle so his cock would keep hitting that same spot. I became a moaning mess with my legs shaking, barely able to keep riding Shawn. Every roll of my hips was quick and sloppy as I came closer to my orgasm. I leaned over Shawn’s body. I pressed my lips to his while still rolling my hips onto him, bouncing on his length.

“I’m, oh fuck, I’m so close.” I whimpered. Shawn’s large hands grasped my breasts since they were basically right in his face. His thumbs teased my nipples and the extra sensation and pleasure sent me right over the edge to my orgasm. Shawn felt my walls spasm around his dick, letting him know I had orgasmed, if the sobs and moans hadn’t already.

Shawn thrusted up into me as I was too exhausted to do much more. I was so sensitive and Shawn’s sloppy thrusts didn’t help the matter. After a few rushed thrusts, he also came. I felt a spurt of warmth fill the condom as Shawn’s thrusts ceased. He kissed my forehead after pulling out of me. Then he left to go clean up and I remained laying underneath the sheets and blanket.

I was aware of Shawn being back in the bed by the mattress sinking in next to me and then his warmth behind me. Neither one of us bothered putting on clothes before we went back to sleep. Shawn sweetly pecked my cheeks before cuddling up to me.

“That was the best sex we’ve ever had, or at least I thought so.” I told him.

“So much better than my dream.” Shawn murmured. I laughed at him before saying our goodnights, then falling asleep soon after.

anonymous asked:

What proof do we have that Eris is abusive, other than that characters have said he is? Most held a similar opinion of Rhys, what's the difference? That we have a first person narrator who is privy to the backstory of one but not the other? I'm not trying to be aggressive but I want to know your thoughts. I thought showing was more important than telling in storytelling.

Okay then, like, what ‘proof’ have we got for literally 90% of the things in this series???? Feyre is a 19 year old human girl in a world full of immortal fae. You want an eye witness account for everything in this thing, do you?

 How do I know the war happened the way they said it did? Feyre never saw it, she’s only had characters tell her about it. How do I know Rhys actually hated what he did with Amarantha and didn’t just swap sides right at the end? How do I know Rhys’ dad sucked but his mother was a good person, I’ve only heard him tell me about her, I’ve seen it. How do I know Tamlin’s brothers were awful? Never seen them either. How do I know Beron is really that awful either, I mean maybe he’s wearing a mask too and all the characters are just wrong. How do I know Mor is queer? I’ve never seen her with a girl before, I just have her word for it, maybe she lied. How do I know literally anything in this entire series because WE GET TOLD MOST THINGS NOT SHOWN THEM. 

This is what happens when you have a limited first person pov. The character HAS to get told things in order to tell us things like ???? A little bit of common sense please, do you want me to like, historically fact check Prythian for everything that Feyre tells us about it??? 

And tbh SJM has a pretty crappy habit of doing the whole ‘telling over showing’ thing anyway. See: the entirety of the Throne of Glass series, Mor’s powers in ACOTAR (she’s awesome, really, we promise, we just haven’t actually SEEN her do anything), the assertions that Rhys and co are ~the most powerful ever~ have I actually SEEN that? Can I actually see that? No.  Do I really question these things? No. Because I understand that this is the only way I can actually get some information out of this story and if I only went with what I ‘saw’ and disbelieved everything else I’d have literally nothing?? 

And when it comes to the whole Eris thing, like, dude, it’s not just a couple of characters who’ve said he’s abysmal it’s like, wait let me make a list: 

Tamlin: “His father had her put down. Executed, in front of Lucien, as his two eldest brothers held him and made him watch.” That would be Eris. So at best you’ve got conflicting statements here. 

Lucien: “Lucien crossed his arms, leaning against the back of the couch. “I have to agree with Cassian. Eris is a snake.M, yes, Eris, HIS OWN BROTHER. If anyone was going to know Eris was ~not a bad person~ it’d be Lucien. Lucien who lived in that court. Who knew him. Who Eris apparently cared enough to protect/save, according to him. Eris who apparently cares so much about his mother (as we have seen Lucien does SEEN that is SEEN with our own two eyes) Why the hell would Lucien not know Eris was ‘wearing a mask’. Or maybe…Eris really does suck. 

Rhys: “Eris refused to marry her. Said she’d been sullied by a bastard-born lesser faerie, and he’d now sooner fuck a sow. […]Rhys said with soft wrath, “Eris left her for dead in the middle of their woods.” Idgaf how he tries to spin it later, this is what happened.  

Cassian: “You’re working with that prick,” Cassian cut in, whatever catching-up now over, apparently. He moved to Mor’s side, a hand on her back. He shook his head at Azriel and Rhys, disgust curling his lip. “You should have spiked Eris’s fucking head to the front gates.” 

Amren: “Your whole family is despicable,” Amren said to Lucien.

Mor: At Mor, whose face went white with dread. […]Or at Eris, heir to the Autumn Court, as he strolled into the room. 

[…] 

And I had the terrible sense that Mor had gone somewhere far, far away as Eris set down his goblet and said, “You look well, Mor.”

The sight of him triggers actual real panic attacks and flashbacks that we can literally see from Feyre’s POV. Five hundred years after the fact and Mor is still traumatised enough by what he did to her to react like this even after all that time. 

Then we have Feyre’s POV herself. Through her we’ve seen Eris laughing alongside his other brothers as Lucien was tortured and nearly killed. 

“I don’t suppose your handsome brothers know, Lucien,” she purred.

“If we did, Lady, we would be the first to tell you,” said the tallest. He was lean, well dressed, every inch of him a court-trained bastard. Probably the eldest, given the way even the ones who looked like born warriors stared at him with deference and calculation—and fear.

 Ah, yes, that would be Eris actively promising help to Amarantha in order to damn Feyre and continue her reign. Then there’s the way Eris hunts down Lucien and Feyre in the Winter Court, actively harms them both. So that’s like…Basically every single main character in this book who’s told you Eris sucks. 

What’s the basis for believing that he doesn’t, out of interest? I mean what ‘evidence’ do you have that he is actually wearing a mask, what do you have that’s so strong it goes against the testimony of multiple characters? Oh I know! You have Eris’ word for it and that’s it. Wow. So unbiased. So convincing. Eris tells us he’s not really a bad guy and that outweighs the half a dozen people who tells us he is! That’s just. Damn. What logic. Can’t argue with that. 

Also, like, I’m sorry, but Rhys’ arc was done properly, Rhys’ redemption wasn’t a retcon it was a followed-through on plan. There were hints UtM that Rhys was not as black as he was painted (He killed the Summer Court faerie outright rather than leaving him to suffer, he repeatedly came to visit Feyre in her cell when no-one else would, he was honest with Feyre about the treatment he received at Amarantha’s hands (a vulnerability on his part), he told her why he was making her dance every night as well as the steps he put in place to protect her, he sent music to her and saved her life, he saved her life and Tamlin’s with the kiss (which Feyre is aware of), he tried to save Feyre’s life while Amarantha was torturing her) 

Rhys was a complex, morally grey character UtM and it’s possible to show a different side to him and a ‘mask’ because there were always hints of him wearing one. What if Ianthe told Feyre she was actually a secret agent working for Prythian but she was forced to act the way she did to keep her cover? What if Amarantha said she’d only dominated Prythian that way to save it from something worse and she too was wearing a mask and working for the greater good? What if Hybern said there was a bigger threat facing them and he had an ulterior motive to this war (and also, I mean, how do you really know Hybern is that awful, we’ve only ever had people tell us about him, maybe he’s misunderstood too!!!!)  @valamerys wrote this out far better than I could in this post, read it too. 

My thoughts are pretty simple, tbh: SJM decided to “”””””redeem”””””” Eris, likely to have him set-up to take over Autumn, now Lucien isn’t an option for that before what with the whole dramatic lost son of Day thing and she did a crap job of it. Like this isn’t some grand morality based character debate that’s going on here, SJM just handled this poorly. In order to make him seem not so bad she had to undo all of the canon that she’d set in place before hand and offer ‘alternative’ explanations for what happened that we’ve never heard about. 

If she planned this all beforehand, if Eris was always wearing a mask why weren’t there hints of it before? Why didn’t she have Tamlin tell Feyre he got an anonymous tip-off the day he saved Lucien’s life from his brothers (which is what Eris claimed). Why wouldn’t Lucien defend him a little, say at least he cared about their mother/was sometimes kinder to him than the others? Why wouldn’t Rhys say that in the arranged marriage that petrified Mor, Eris was as unwilling as she was, that he argued against it? (Eris would have gone through with this marriage regardless of what it did to Mor if she hadn’t slept with Cassian) Why wouldn’t Eris stay quiet UtM or not show up to watch Lucien’s torture (which he does repeatedly)? Why, why, why, why, why would SJM not do something to show us that there might be more to Eris? Unless this was just a sloppy, last minute retcon to redeem a gross, abusive character who still to do this day petrifies his victim? 

Like, if you consider showing to be of more importance than telling in stories….You’ve picked a mighty weird hill to die on here with Eris. Because this is literally the worst example of telling not showing in this entire series. There is no basis for anything that happens with Eris’ character in ACOWAR and the only thing we have stacked against the evidence of two and a half books is what Eris says and how he personally spins the story like ????

 Idk dude, we can have a convoluted, let’s bend over backwards to redeem this guy and show he was misunderstood and has been wearing a mask so convincing it’s never ever ever cracked even once this entire time, to anyone! Even people who’ve known him for centuries….Or we go with the simpler: SJM really didn’t plan or execute this story very well at all. Which seems more reasonable?  

in a fashion

he tian x mo guan shan one-shot

tags: swearing, kissing (you know the game they play), set in the future, he tian and guan shan live together in domestic bliss (ha)

synopsismy train was delayed yesterday and i was bored and don’t know what this is but enjoy?


‘Someone’s been baking,’ He Tian says, pleased, tasting sugar and rosemary on Guan Shan’s lips. The apartment smells warm and sweet, a new version of home that is crafting itself out of sense, though the space is unchanged but for the suitcase at the bottom of He Tian’s wardrobe, the cooking appliances starting to fill the kitchen surface, and Guan Shan, stretched out on the sofa and flicking through a magazine.

‘Get off me,’ Guan Shan says, head turned, the kiss broken, hands a pressure on He Tian’s chest, nails pressing into the white shirt. ‘You stink of cigarettes.’

‘People at work were smoking,’ He Tian says. ‘It’s not from me.’  But he pulls away, slightly stung, unfolding himself from where he’d rested a knee and a hand on the sofa, curved himself around Guan Shan’s repose.

He’d promised he’d give it up for his health, but Guan Shan must know it’s easier said than done; he knows He Tian holds a cigarette bracketed between his fingers like a compact life-line. Something to wrap his lips around in lieu of letting words slip from his mouth.  

Keep reading

In the Rough

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5 (you are here), part 6, based on @skygemspeaks’s prompt



Previously: As soon as Yuuri has settled into his role as Prince Victor’s personal bodyguard, his childhood friend Prince Phichit appears. Yuuri fears for his secret, as there is no doubt that his friend will be more than surprised to find Yuuri here, in the palace of the Nikiforovs.

Yuuri’s blood runs cold when he hears the crier announce the incoming royal.

“Presenting His Royal Highness, Crown Prince of the Southeast, Phichit Chulalont!”

Of all the royals that could possibly be visiting during Yuuri’s tenure here, the only one that could possibly be worse than Phichit would be Mari. He and Prince Phichit (affectionately dubbed Phichan by a three year old Yuuri) have been friends since Phichit was born, and there’s no one in the world that knows Yuuri better. They played together as children, and rode together during their many visits to each other’s respective kingdoms. They even lived together for a time, when they took a few years to travel for their schooling. In fact, it’s not uncommon (or wasn’t uncommon, Yuuri guiltily thinks) for the two of them to sleep in the same bed; they’ve been doing it since they were children. At one point Yuuri’s parents had even wondered whether the two of them should be betrothed, but they both vehemently refused. They were much better off as friends, they knew. Besides, Phichit is in love with one of his guards, which Yuuri mercilessly teases (teased) him about regularly.

Yuuri has no doubt that Phichit has been made aware of his disappearance, but he also remembers writing the boy several letters when Mari first started to pull away. He can only hope that when– not if –Phichit recognizes him, that he manages to put the two together before he exposes Yuuri.

Luckily, Victor is still not here (though he will be soon) and the Tzar is overseeing Prince Yuri’s lessons after one too many ditching attempts. For once, Yuuri is alone in the throne room.

By the time Phichit and his entourage (Seung-Gil, Leo, and Guang-Hong, all of whom Yuuri knows well) arrive in a throne room, Yuuri is kneeling, as is proper. He’s sweating from nerves, and it’s all he can do to keep his voice from shaking when he speaks in Phichit’s native language, accent near perfect from years of practice.

“I formally apologize for making you wait. His Highness will be here soon, so please, make yourself comfortable.”

He hears Phichit’s sharp intake of breath and knows he’s been found out. “On your feet, soldier. Let me see your face.”

Slowly, so slowly, Yuuri rises to face him. He can hear footsteps coming from a direction of Victor’s bedchambers, and meets Phichit’s eyes desperately. In the few seconds that it takes for Victor and Otabek to reach a throne room, the two of them reach a silent agreement, a complex conversation that’s only possible because of how well they know each other.

A wide-eyed, desperate look. I’ll explain everything, I promise.

A look of disbelief. Yuuri, is it really you?

Lowered eyes for just a second. Later. I’ll tell you everything, just please play along.

The barest hint of tears. I missed you.

Bowed head. …I missed you too, Phichan.

A hand on the shoulder. You’ll explain later?

A tiny nod. I swear.

A light squeeze on the shoulder before pulling away. Okay.

The other three pairs of eyes widen in recognition as well, but they stay silent. If their prince isn’t going to say anything, Yuuri is sure that they won’t either; those men are nothing if not loyal.

“Yuuri,” Victor whines, jumping on his back with his entire bodyweight. “I missed you!”

Yuuri can’t help but glance over at Phichit self-consciously. The boy looks amused, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. Yuuri can read him like a book, but he can’t afford to react any differently from how he normally would, or Otabek may suspect something.

He pries Victor off gently but firmly. “Victor, you’re being extremely rude. Besides, it’s been less than an hour since I saw you last.”

“An hour too long,” Victor says, kissing Yuuri’s hand dramatically. Yuuri privately agrees with him, but that’s an issue for another time, especially since Victor is just teasing. “Though I suppose you’re right. I apologize, Your Highness. Welcome back to our palace. I assume that your trip went without issue?”

“Of course.” Phichit says with a mischievous smile, glancing at Yuuri for a fraction of a second. “I’m more than glad to be back, especially now that I’m finally here. I see you’ve inducted a new member of your staff.”

Victor’s grin is blinding, and Yuuri doesn’t know how to process it. He’s noticed that Victor carries himself like a man who has known loneliness; it seems as though he’s attached to Yuuri in the same way that a child would attach itself to a blanket. “Isn’t he great? So polite and well behaved. I’m proud to call him my personal bodyguard.”

“May I ask his name?” Phichit’s eyes sparkle with concealed mirth that Yuuri is sure only he can see.

“Of course!” Victor claps his hands once in excitement; he always does seem to enjoy showing Yuuri off. “His name is Yuuri Nishigori, of Yutopia. He saved my life in the forest, so I decided to bring him here and give him a job as a reward.”

Guang-Hong laughs when he hears Yuuri’s “name,” but manages to cover it up as a cough. “Excuse me.”

Yuuri gives him a severe look. Don’t forget I know about your affair with Leo. Not, of course, that Phichit would care, but it’s nice to have some blackmail material on his friends once in a while.

“Excuse my guard, he’s laughing at my antics. I must admit to some deception, Prince Victor,” Phichit says with a small grin.

Victor raises and eyebrow in that way that Yuuri has noticed means that he’s mildly amused. “Oh?”

Phichit nods. “You see, Yuuri and I have already met.”

Oh no, Phichit please no. Yuuri’s grip on the hilt of his sword anxiously.

“It’s a story quite similar to yours, actually.” Phichit smiles at Yuuri. I’ve got this. “I was travelling the continent for school a few years ago, and I wandered from the caravan of boredom. I found a view I particularly liked and wandered too close to the edge of a cliff. Your guard saved my life.”

Yuuri remembers that day, actually. Phichit had scared the life out of him, wandering off like that.

“Phichan, why would you go so close to the edge? You could have died!” Yuuri could feel his heartbeat in his throat. “If I’d lost you…”

Phichit was shaking, his usual grin far from his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“In fact, we became friends soon after.” Well, that’s a bold-faced lie, but Yuuri can’t expect anything different if he wants to keep his secret safe.

Victor looks at Yuuri with wide eyes. “Wow! My Yuuri is so amazing, why didn’t you tell me that you knew another royal?”

I know several, actually. Phichit just happens to be the one that’s here. “It, uh, it never came up, I suppose.”

“You were named for the missing prince, right Yuuri?” Phichit cuts in.

When Yuuri nods, Victor looks confused. “What do you mean, missing prince?”

“Ah, I forget how cut off this country is from its neighbors,” Phichit says, looking apologetic and slightly sad. The sadness, Yuuri can tell, is entirely real. He feels a sharp twinge of guilt about causing it. “Yutopia’s prince, Yuuri Katsuki, went missing several months past. He’s a very dear friend of mine.”

There’s a short period of silence, where Yuuri is sure that Victor is trying to find the appropriate words to respond to a revelation like this.

“Victor, if I may make a suggestion,” Otabek says, startling them all. “Pardon my intrusion into your conversation, but perhaps, for the duration of the prince’s stay, Nishigori should stay with his company. It may make the prince more comfortable, and I am willing to take over for him for and few days.”

Yuuri blinks. Otabek has just opened a way for him to spend time with Phichit and explain himself, without even knowing what he was doing.

He’s sure that Victor is about to protest, but there’s a distinct moment when any protests die. The look of absolute gratitude on Phichit’s face could melt a heart of stone.

“I… I suppose… that would be fine,” Victor manages. His hesitation confuses Yuuri, but the confusion is overpowered by something else.

He only vaguely notices the glances Victor keeps sneaking at him for the rest of the night, and he doesn’t think about what they mean. He’s going to miss spending time with Victor one on one, but it’s only for a few days. Besides, Phichit is going to be spending a lot of time in a presence of the royal family anyway, so things won’t be so different.

As soon as the two of them close the door to Phichit’s bedchamber later that night, Yuuri finds himself being tackled on all sides by four overexcited men. Leo, Guang-Hong, and Seung-Gil look skeptical when Yuuri explains his reasons for vanishing, but Phichit– Phichan, who knows how Yuuri’s mind works, who knows everything about him –nods and understands. He swears to keep the secret, as long as Yuuri promises in turn to be home in time for his sister’s coronation.

It’s enough, for now.

karniajoy  asked:

Warrior trainees asking Reiner is he had/has a girlfriend and Reiner describing Bertolt for the 3 sentence meme?

[this prompt is amazing and I’ve been dying to fulfill it! spoilers up to and including chapter 93]

“Reiner, was there ever anyone special in your life?” Gabi asks, curious and innocent.

Reiner sighs, realising he’s not going to get much further with the book he’s reading; it’s practically impossible to read when the trainees decide to occupy almost half of his bed during their free time before lights out.

“Of course not;” Falco replies on Reiner’s behalf, “do you really think he had time for stuff like that?”

Gabi stops braiding Zofia’s hair to snap at Falco, “I wasn’t talking to you!”

“Hey.” Galliard’s stern voice cuts through the bickering, “Pieck is trying to rest, so keep your voices down or I’ll take you back to your room.”

Gabi apologises, but her curiousity isn’t sated; she turns to Reiner and asks again with pleading eyes, “Come on Reiner, was there anyone?”

The blond looks to his right at Galliard, but he’s still busy making notes at his desk; acting as if he’s not interested in the trainees’ childish conversation.

“Yeah, there was someone.” Reiner says.

Gabi and Zofia exchange excited looks, and even Udo is getting drawn into the conversation, losing interest in his card game with Falco.

“What were they like?” Gabi practically squeals with excitement.

Reiner scratches the stubble on his chin as he considers his response; there is so much he could say about the distant memory of the person he loves. He settles on something simple, “They were reliable; they were always there when I needed them.”

Zofia chimes in now with her own question, “Were you going to bring them home with you?”

“That was always what we wanted. After the mission, we were going to go home and,” Reiner pauses, but then realises that the trainees won’t know who he’s talking about, so he doesn’t need to feel embarrassed, “I was going to ask them to marry me.”

Gabi covers her mouth with both her hands to hold back a high-pitched squeal, while Zofia adds, “That’s so romantic.”

“Would Zofia and I have been bridesmaids for the wedding?” Gabi’s voice gets louder in her excitement.

Reiner can’t help but chuckle at Gabi’s question, “Sure; and Falco could have been the ring bearer.”

Gabi, Zofia and Udo erupt into laughter as Falco blushes, embarrassed by the suggestion.

“T-That’s stupid! Why would you want to get married anyway, knowing how little time you’ve got left?”

Falco’s outburst changes the mood, and suddenly the children aren’t laughing anymore. However, it doesn’t get rid of Reiner’s soft smile, “Sometimes you can’t help falling in love. Maybe you’ll understand when you get older Falco.”

This only causes Falco’s cheeks to grow a deeper shade of red, and he averts his gaze to stare at the floor instead.

“It’s getting late;” Galliard stands from his chair, “it’s time you lot went to bed.”

There are some complaints from Gabi; Zofia and Udo try their luck too, but soon enough Galliard is ushering them out of the room. As he leaves, he makes the quickest glance in Reiner’s direction, but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to use words; Reiner knows what he’s thinking. If he’s truly inherited Ymir’s memories, then Galliard will know exactly who Reiner is talking about; Ymir always knew about how Reiner felt.

Once they’re out of the room, Reiner picks up his book again, only to be interrupted by the only other person left in the room.

“He would have said yes.” Pieck murmurs from her bed. She’s had her eyes closed the entire time the trainees were in the room, so Reiner assumed she was already asleep.

Caught off guard by her statement he says, “What?”

“Bertolt;” she mumbles as she turns in her bed, “he would have said ‘yes’ if you asked him to marry you.”

Reiner’s stomach turns; it’s the same kind of nerves he used to feel as a teenager when he held Bertolt close or thought about kissing him. It’s a feeling he hasn’t felt in so long.

He knows Pieck’s words are meant to comfort him, and they do to some extent; but they also come with a dull ache. With such a short lifespan, he always knew he was only ever going to have one love in his life; and even after spending four years without Bertolt, that love still hadn’t diminished, and Reiner doubted it ever would.

Routine Part Three (Lin x Reader)

“I’m not sure if you guys are ready for this. Heck, I don’t know if I’m ready for it and I wrote it. 

Prompt List//Request Something//Mobile Masterlist

(Part One)(Part Two)(Part Four)

requested: YES OH MY GOODNESS I DID NOT EXPECT Y’ALL TO LIKE IT THAT MUCH

Summary: Reader and Lin are stuck, so they opt for a new place to write. Once in the new place, they tell each other stories in hopes of inspiration striking. 

Prompts used:

77) You talk way too much.

78) You don’t talk enough.

120) Tell me a story.

Warnings: military family, mentions of bullying, mentions of death, mentions of miscarriages, swearing

Words: 2229

People Who Wanted To Be Tagged (for some reason I don’t fully understand): @yayhamletnonstop @old-manmiranda @nesthemonster @itsjaynebird @just-a-random-fandom-24 @unknown1200

Originally posted by lin4lin-ham4ham


“Nothing is making ANY SENSE!!” Lin screams as he slides further into your bean bag chair allowing it to swallow him whole.  “Also, just so you know, this chair is damn comfortable. I’m definitely stealing it when this thing is over.”

“Don’t you dare!” You chuckle and throw a pillow at his head, hitting him straight in the temple. “That is my favorite chair.”

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A Broken Warrior

Modern AU 
Soldier Ivar x Reader
A Broken Warrior: One-shot, 10,759 words.
(Treat yourself to a glass of wine while reading this. Or two. It really is that long. One day I will learn my lesson. One day…)
Warnings: Angst. Swearing. Amputation. Very, very mild descriptions of sexual intercourse. 
All of the Heathen Army’s amazing Modern AU Ivar fics inspired me to go in all out and write a one-shot for two of my favourite things - Ivar and uniforms!
It was meant to be a little fluff fic, then it progressed onto a medium angst fic but in the end it just ended up being a big, old mess of hurt/comfort because I just can’t quit. It’s ended up being REALLY long so I hope it isn’t too difficult to follow. I realised about 2/3rds of the way through that this should have been a series but I couldn’t bring myself to start again since I have Healing Hands to finish. 


As a little girl, you never knew what kind of man you’d end up loving when you grew up. Sometimes you imagined being the wife of a doctor, or maybe the wild, leather-wearing lover of rock star. Occasionally, you even saw yourself marrying an astronaut or even becoming the glamorous girlfriend of a famous football player. The one thing you’d never imagined was falling head over heels for a soldier but that was exactly what happened when Ivar Lothbrok walked into your empty bar on a quiet Tuesday afternoon.

As a student in a big city, you knew that you had to get a part-time job to help yourself through college. Back in your own home town, your parents had owned a local diner so the logical option was to seek employment as a waitress. It wasn’t difficult to find work tending tables in a place that had both a university and a military base so soon enough, you started working at a local watering hole. It didn’t take very long for you to get a promotion to a bartender and after a few weeks of training, your manager felt comfortable enough to leave you alone on quiet week nights. It was during one of these slow weekdays that a group of three men and two women crashed through the doors, laughing cheerfully as they collapsed into a booth at the back of the bar.


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neiticora  asked:

I really really want to see Ryder confusedly confessing to a girlfriend (regular, platonic gf) her feelings to Jaal. Like... "Listen Cora, I'm going mad and I have to talk to someone. Don't laugh. I think I'm..." And the friend's reaction, of course!

Wren Ryder and Cora sat across from each other on the Tempest’s broad table, Ryder pushing reconstituted eggs around with her fork, Cora reading something a datapad but looking up periodically as the fork hit the surface with a clang that destroyed the fragile silence sacred to breakfast.

With a sigh, Cora put her datapad down. “Ryder, what’s bothering you?”

Rather than just opening up (Jaal would be ashamed,) Ryder grew defensive. “Nothing’s wrong, Cora. Everything is normal. Perfect. Peachy.” Another circle of eggs on her plate, pushing a little more aggressively this time.

Cora rested her face on her fist, using her free hand to rub small circles on her temple. “Cut the crap, Ryder. Don’t make me call in Lexi for a psych eval.” This was no idle threat- if Cora said she’d do something, it would happen.

Okay. Fine then. Alarmed, Ryder put down her fork and pushed the plate away. “We’re speaking in hypotheticals here. Understand?”

“Perfectly.” Was Cora trying not to smile?

“What if, hypothetically, you were some big, important title in the Initiative. You had your own ship, and your own crew. The crew is great, and you like them a lot, but there’s one of them you like more than you should.” Her hands were looking for something to do, anything. Not looking at Cora’s knowing smile and nodding head, she snatched a cup of coffee, swirling a spoon through it in broad spirals. One, two, three. “You even meet his- or her- family. But isn’t it kind of… unethical? Or something. It’s one of your crew. An abuse of power. Asking for a friend. For a hypothetical. Not for me.” Very convincing. Very smooth. She hadn’t even managed to trick herself into believing it. Finally she looked up from her coffee.

Cora was still smirking, damn her. “I’d say that there’s paperwork you have to fill out with Lexi’s approval. Theoretically, of course. I would also say that I could email the forms to the interested party- commander and crew liaisons, form 90417 B.” She bent over her omni-tool for a few seconds, swiping through something and then leaning back. “I think, in this purely hypothetical situation, a woman’s friends might ask her if she’s sure, though.” The smile faded slightly; it was still prepared to emerge again, but caution had clouded Cora’s features.

Ryder couldn’t keep up with this charade for any longer. “Listen, Cora. I feel like I’m going crazy and I just had to talk with someone about it. Don’t laugh, but I think I’m in love.” Actually, she might laugh at herself just for saying that, sounding like a teenager too caught up in the emotions of her first real relationship to understand there was a world outside her own feelings.

“And Jaal?” Gently, Cora pulled the coffee cup away from Ryder, shaking her head. “You don’t need more caffeine right now.” Fair point.

“He took me to meet his family.” To her credit, Ryder managed not to turn entirely red- just partially, high on her cheekbones and the tips of her ears. “I think it’s serious.” And there was only so much longer she could keep it quiet from the rest of the crew, especially when she wanted things so many normal couples seemed to take for granted- holding hands, those light touches that said your lover was there, a kiss on the lips when the opportunity came.

Lifting her eyebrows, Cora stroked her chin in an oversized gesture, clearly mimicking thinking deeply about the situation. “Does he make you happy?” she finally asked.

Another moment of feeling stupid, of wanting to sigh dreamily and act like someone ten years her junior. “Sometimes he’s the only thing in this damn galaxy that makes being Pathfinder bearable.”

“Then do it. You’ve been happier lately. Don’t forget that you’re still only human, Ryder. Your dad did, sometimes, but you’re not your dad.” For the first time, there was no criticism as Cora said those last words. It was simply a statement of fact. “Fill out the forms. I think someone is here to see you, by the way.” Nodding to the stairwell that led up to the comm table (which was also their breakfast, lunch, and dinner space,) Cora stood and gave Ryder another nod and a wink before vanishing down the other side of the stairs, her breakfast plate in hand, clapping Jaal on the shoulder as she did so.

Ah, shit. “Jaal! How long were you listening?” Was there any egg stuck in her teeth? Did she reek of coffee? No and no, thankfully.

In the dubious privacy, Jaal pulled Ryder into his arms, crushing her to his chest and kissing the top of her head. “Enough,” he finally answered. “Your people must fill out forms to be with one another?” He sounded confused, but still didn’t release her, and she was glad to rest her head on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with every breath he took. It felt risky to do this out in the open when no one else in the ship really knew, except for Cora, but if they were going to go public anyway…

“No, not at all. It’s just because you’re technically a member of my crew. You don’t mind signing it?” What if he didn’t want to? What if he found the human concept of military permissions too obviously foreign and decided that the cultural boundaries were too much?

“Give it to me right now. I’ll sign as many forms as I have to, to be with you.” Oh. That was okay then.

Let's get something straight here.

I’m fucking done with everything and everyone. Just because people aren’t used to something or think it should be a certain way doesn’t mean it’s fucking right.

1. Straight people are straight. Gay people are gay. Deal. With. It. Not everyone is going to be fucking straight or gay. Some of us are even in between like pans, bi’s, and shit.

SO STOP HOMOPHOBIA AND QUIT HETEROPHOBIA. SIT DOWN. SHUT UP. AND DEAL WITH IT. IF YOU DON’T LIKE SOMETHING, KEEP IT TO YOURSELF.

2. A Woman does not “belong” in a kitchen. And she doesn’t HAVE to be a wife. Everyone sees women as someone who has to be feminine, and cute, and perky and shit. NOT ALL WOMAN WILL BE LIKE THAT.

There are tomboys, a woman CAN become a soldier. A woman is capable of so much more than just having kids, making dinner and being a goddamn housewife. Yea I fully understand if that’s how SOME woman want to live their life, but NO WOMAN should be held back from what SHE wants.

3. QUIT WITH STEREOTYPING PEOPLE. Just because someone wears glasses doesn’t make them a nerd. Just like how if someone is buff and strong, it doesn’t make him a jock. Not every Muslim is dangerous, and not every white person is rich. And not all gays are “fabulous.” I got called out the other day because I am bisexual and someone asked me why I don’t dress like it then. Excuse me? BUT EXACTLY HOW WOULD A BISEXUAL GIRL DRESS???!!! FUCK EVERYONE WHO STEREOTYPES PEOPLE. GROW A BRAIN. READ A BOOK. Who knows, maybe you’ll fucking learn something.

4. People. Fuck. Up. But that doesn’t mean you get to fucking laugh at them, or judge them. Sometimes things happen and we all make stupid decisions. So don’t go fucking prancing around like you’re any better than anyone else.

5. How is it that if someone has a broken leg, or head injury, they get sympathy? But people like me, who are actually mentally injured, get judged and dismissed as freaks? Yes, I’m mentally unstable, that doesn’t mean I’m going to kill a person.

Just like how not every depressed person wants to kill themselves!

Before you fucking judge a person, know WHAT you’re judging for fucks sake, or else YOU’LL be the idiot.

6. If you think beating, raping, violation in any way is alright if it’s the “victims fault” then fuck you. You can die now.

It’s not the “Victim’s fault” no matter what.

IT NOT OKAY AT ALL.

IMAGINE HOW YOU WOULD FEEL IF IT HAPPENED TO YOU. OR YOUR FAMILY OR LOVED ONES. And no one would care because it was “the Victim’s fault”. Think about it.

7. WE ALL HAVE DIFFERENT BELIEFS. SL DON’T FUCKING GET PISSED OFF BECAUSE SOME OF US SEE THINGS DIFFERENTLY.

I grew up in a Christian/Catholic family and K REFUSE to believe I’m God, yet I believe I’m hell and Satan. Question me. It’s not fucking worth it.

Some of us believe in God, reincarnation, death, science, etc. Whatever it is, don’t judge another person because of it.

8. WE ALL HAVE A REASON. AND A VOICE.

It’s whether we choose to USE that voice, and if it’s for Good or Bad.

WE CAN/WILL MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

9. This is OUR MOMENT.

Our generation is what changes everything.

Think about this nice and hard.

Every move we make, Every Choice, will one day effect what happens to US in the future, to our possible kids, and THEIR kids!

With every choice on US. We HAVE to be careful! We need to make SURE we know what will happen, and what are consequences will be.

10. I AM USING MY VOICE. THESE ARE MY OPINIONS AND MY WORDS I USED.

IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM, DEAL WITH IT.

I WILL ALWAYS HAVE A RIGHT OF SPEECH, AND NO ONE WILL TAKE THAT FROM ME.