oh the things that i've done

Hey guys

Actually it’s more like

Sorry I’ve been so MIA! I’ve been locked away writing and working frantically to get my dissertation written. And to top things all off, my PI pushed up one of my deadlines because she wants to go through the full complete thesis first and give me edits before sending it out to my committee (which is understandable, I’m not surprised this happened).

So my completed draft is due to her by Tuesday, and my finished dissertation needs to be to my committee a week from tomorrow. I defend 3 weeks from tomorrow. This is the point I’m at

So thank you for putting up with me and my radio silence, it’s just hardcore go time on my end. The best part is I know you all understand, and we all have to go through this at some point. 

But there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I can do this. 

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Useful posts on how to write comments for fanfics - [here] & [here]

On a personal note. I’ve met wonderful people throughout fandoms and by leaving comments. I’ve made great friends, some even on comment sections, as we shared our enthusiasm for the same story. 

People who like the same ships often hold similar character traits and life experiences; they’re people who would get you. The bonds in fandoms only strengthen when people meet other people as humans - and there are fantastic humans waiting to meet you. 

Leave a comment. :)

((Methodology For Data Collected

For this, I’ve used AO3, currently the most popular fanfiction website. 

I’ve taken the first ranked story in each ship, completed, rated by kudos - since bookmarks on AO3 can be set to private so the counters don’t reflect the real numbers - to reflect the stories that had the most positive feedback in their category.

For the comments, I’ve (falsely and intentionally) assumed the numbers represented are singular comments from singular, different users (tipping the scales in favor of the commenters). For Destiel, Johnlock and Spirk I had to pick the second story by kudos, since for the first the deviation error (assuming the author haven’t replied and there aren’t discussion threads included in the comments) was far too high for the ratio to be accurate, and my initial assumption couldn’t be applied. My apologies to the authors. 

The data was collected on May 2nd , 2016.))

4

Ghostbusters! (x)

anyone else constantly surrounded by people who are watching and judging u…watching u get dressed make food walk to work pet ur cat order coffee they are Watching Observing Taking Notes and you can hear them asking each other questions abt what yr doing
so u have to censor your thoughts and try to act normal for the People and like…fuck it’s so exhausting lmfao…..

3

always // panic! at the disco

oh, cool news!!

as you guys may know, i’ll be participating in the @supernaturalartbook!

so excited to announce i’m placed in the chapter Angels and Heaven! for this, i’ll be providing a piece consisting of Chuck and The God Squad! MY CHILDREN

so excited!! if you haven’t read up on this book, it’s for a great cause, and it’s FILLED with tons and tons of incredible artists!!

i’m still growing.

sure, maybe yesterday i had a little too much to drink and i took a look at my life and felt like athena was whispering, “oh, you poor child. what have you done?”

maybe i have some cuts and scrapes that still haven’t healed, maybe my heart is still bruised and so i cringe when i place it into your waiting palms. maybe i’m breathing a little ragged because i swallowed all the mirrors in my house so i wouldn’t stare at my reflection and try to rip my skin from its bones anymore.

i have a crooked grin but smiles aren’t meant for perfection. my knuckles are bloody and raw from attacking the concrete cage i have built around myself, but today, i broke a hole and i saw daylight for the first time. and guess what?

i’m still growing.

—  twenty doesn’t meant twice as sad // (h.q.)

a.k.a the source list of 99% of my blog’s content lmao. oh look, fishes. 

🐟 0 - c 🐟

@1895 @acdlock @actingchoices @addignisherlock @amazemewatson @annyskod @bakerstreetintellect @bbcajay @bbcdetectives @bbcjohnlock @bbcjohnlocked @bbcmindpalacemoriarty @bbcwatsn @bi-john @bimartin @bisexualspace @boffinholmes @bondairisgo @butchsherlock @chimpsinsocks @clueingforlooks @consultingjohn @consvlted @cumberbangers @cumberblessed

🐟 d - h 🐟

@dangbenedict @darkfuckwatson @dearjohnlock @decluce @deducethegay @deducinq @delreylock @dramatisecho @dramaqueern @drjohnvvatson @dvtective @eggsistencial @enerjax @eujeny4ever @femlocks @femlockpng @femlocktm @femmewatson @freemantm @fuckboysherlock @gatissed @gayly @gaymotives @gayterror @gaywaterfall @getlestrade @greglestrade @greglextrade @grumpybijohn @grumpybisexualtm @hannibael @hlmes @holmesboi @hushwatson

🐟 i - q 🐟

@inevitably-johnlocked @investigayting @jamesmoriartv @jmauriarty @johnandsherlocks @johnlawks @johnelocke @johnlockhell @johnlockisses @johnlockville @johnnlocked @johns-tea @johnwhtson @just-a-magic-trick @kinklock @landlady-not-your-plot-device @marcelock @meanmycroft @militarykink @militarywatson @miss-addler @moriarty @moriartysgrave @mycrofd @onemoremiracle @peachyholmes @quietlyprim@qveerholmes  

🐟 r - z 🐟

@reichebach @reichenbrook @ricoletti @rominatrix @sadgaydetective @sapphicvelma @sassmycroft @shelock @sherlockssass @sherlocksbelstaff @sherlocwatson @shorlock @sirarthur-conan-doyle @sidryan @smittensherlock @softlockholmes @strvdivarius @sverlock @thecumbercollective @thejohnlockhell @thelyingdetective @tjlc @transherlocks @trmojas @ughsh @vatican-ccameos @victorianlovers @violincameos @vitruvianwatson @waltzofjohnlock @watsonswaltz @williamsherlockscott @wtsnhlms

anyway, thanks for 5k followers! hope none of yall are dead after tld!

(no, i am not afraid to die)

I wrote this because I am having a lot of feelings about the fact that everyone but keyleth and vax have died and idk man. title comes from the Oh Hello’s song this will end.

  • It’s many years later; decades, maybe even centuries after the dragons are defeated. 
    • A child lays in her bed, her grandmother telling her the story of the brave heroes who saved the world.
  • The rogue, the ranger, the cleric, the barbarian, the bard, the gunslinger, and the druid.
    • their heroics exaggerated after all the years, their names forgotten to time.
      • maybe not completely forgotten
  • Her grandmother tells her of the battles: 
    • how they killed the Iron Storm in his home
    • how they slayed the Hope Devourer by teleporting inside of it
    • how they took vengeance for their fallen friend in killing the Frigid Doom 
    • how they nearly died at the hands of the Cinder King 
    • how two of them did die, briefly, at the hands of the Diseased Deceiver.
  • The child, who had heard all the stories of the adventurers, asked her grandmother a question. 
  • “Do you think it hurt?”
    • “What do you mean, child?” asked her grandmother.
  • “They all died- well, all except for the druid and the rogue, I guess, but the ranger, barbarian, and gunslinger all died twice. Do you think that it hurt?” The child asked, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.
  • An innocent question, asked merely out of curiosity 
    • the child was always the type to ask, rather than leave a question steeping in her brain
      • Of course it hurts- it feels as if you lose a piece of yourself every time and it hurts so badly you feel you might die from the pain, too.
  • Her grandmother, sighed, and answered:
    • “Do I think dying hurts? Child, I know it does. To have someone you love leave? That pain is unimaginable, especially if it’s before their time. The pain would be awful for their friends, and it would only get worse every time someone died. Dying is painful for the living, I think. I don’t think it hurts too badly for the dead.”
  • The child stared at her with wide eyes.
    • “But grandmother, the dead have died. That’s gotta hurt, right?”
      • Trust me, child; I’ve lost enough friends to know it hurts. It feels as though the grief will swallow you whole every time.I’d rather fight a whole conclave of ancient dragons than lose someone I love.
  • “Child, I would not know, I haven’t died. I imagine it hurts, and I know people who are brought back have lasting effects. But those who are left behind, to live on after someone’s died? They have to live without the person they’ve lost. 
    • And it hurts; it gets better on some days, Child, but then there will be days when you see something and your first instinct will be to tell the person you’ve lost, and you will remember you can’t. 
      • But then you remember to stay strong,and be happy for those who have gone before, and to live well for them.”
  • The child blinked, taking in her grandmother’s response.
    • “Huh. Grandmother, would you tell me another story?”
  • Her grandmother laughed:
    • “One more, and then it’s off to bed, now which story would you like to hear?”
      • “Can you tell me the story of the Bard and his magic spice?”
        • Her grandmother smiled, and begin to weave the tale.
        • Oh child, if you only knew he thought he was buying drugs, not spices.
  • When she finished her story, she blew out the candle by the child’s bed, and went to leave the room. 
    • She stood at the doorway, the hallway light illuminating the room, her headpiece casting antler-shaped shadows over the room.
  • “Goodnight, my child. Sleep well.”
  • “Goodnight, grandmother.”
2

I got tagged by @dangerous-stain-builds​ for the one word challenge (thank you!) Rules: Pick any or all characters in your current story/generation and use one word to describe them. Words cannot be repeated!

I have so many sims that I don’t even post so I just did the 2 most important ones from each save (my moms and dads)!

  • Johnny: underestimated
  • Frankie: mischievous
  • Quinn: gemini…..
  • Wren: genuine

I never know who to tag in these things but if u haven’t done it yet and want to, please consider urself tagged!! I wanna learn about ur sims!

2

That moment when you realize what a horrible and sick thing you’ve done to the most pure and good man you’ve ever been graced to meet and you’re just like: 

oh.

3

tfw you are so done with your faves being neglected that you snap and draw the thing yourself

Mashima, please, let my babies shine and protect their Laxus ✧٩(•́⌄•́๑)و ✧

kouginoweek​ day 1: moments

“There’s no betrayal in friendship.”

Minific (3 Things Series, Part 4): illumine

Writing Prompts

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! DM
Rating: PG
Pairing: Dark Magician x Blue Eyes White Dragon (Signatureshipping)

Series: 3 Things

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5)

4) Fireworks, a broken clock, a toast



The bottom of the magician’s staff gently nudges his wing. He makes a noise of apology and tries to keep them still while he reads. He reads a few words before turning to look at the clock again. 11 o’clock. He tries again. A few more words. Back to the clock. Still 11 o’clock. By the fifth run through this exercise, the staff prods his wing again. He looks at the magician, sleepy and exasperated, with his own book on his knees, and his wing stops jittering. Another apology.

He doesn’t know how the magician can be so tired at a time like this. He should be all excited and bouncy and full of magic, ready to celebrate. He points at the clock with his claw in case he’s forgotten why they’re here. The magician rolls his eyes and closes his book with a snap.

He puts it to the side, and shuffles over on the mat without getting up. He leans against him, between him and the book, one hand pillowing his head, the other pulling the book towards him. The magician appears to read a few lines, before tilting the front cover up for a look.

It’s one of his stranger finds. Odd things turn up in his little forest or on his mountain all the time. Some monsters like trading things - which is how he gets most of his books, but not this one.  It has monsters in it he hasn’t heard of before - which isn’t in itself strange, but it’s the way it is written that’s unlike anything else. The characters’ thoughts are described, which is normal, but then they seem to know exactly what each other’s thoughts were, even really complicated ones - but only if they have the two marks at the beginning and end. This was called ‘speaking’. The magician is reading again, and, tilting his head down so he can see past his hood, he sees that he looks confused. He taps the marks gently with a claw, hoping that he’ll understand it faster than he did.

His stomach rumbles, which causes the magician to jump. He imagines it was a lot louder down there. Laughing, the magician picks his staff up and knocks the tip on the floor a few times. Provisions. Remembering he is still underneath him, he tries not to drool.

The magician then raises the staff in the air and conjures one of his violet fires. He yelps and covers his book with his claws. Fire should not be allowed in a library, the same way a Lion Alligator should not be allowed in a nursery. The magician pats his nose apologetically, and pointing it back at the fire, makes it smaller, and conjures a jar around it.   He gestures towards the lamp as if it’s the same thing. It isn’t.

Still huffy, but rather hungry, he snaps up an apple. The magician settles back against him. He considers flicking him off, but settles for extending his wing and dangling it over the magician’s face in a rather aggravating sort of manner.

Pushing the wing out of the way, the magician turns to look at him again, and so he tries to put as much grump into his expression as possible. Looking thoughtful, the magician holds up a hand for him to wait a moment, and then fumbles under his wing for the food. Eventually the magician returns with some bread - he snorts, fire in the library is definitely beyond bread. But he raises his hand again, and with his staff he levitates it over the jar of fire. He growls - if this is supposed to make him feel better by actually setting things on fire, it isn’t going to work. After a while, the magician levitates the now browned bread back and balancing it on the tips of his fingers, pours some jam on it from a jar. Blowing on it slightly, he holds it up for him. At his refusal, he makes a silly face, opening his mouth and wiggling the cooked bread a little, as if he were a chick. Sometimes he worries about his magician. Rolling his eyes, he gives in and takes it.

It’s actually quite nice.

They end up finishing off two loaves - he eats one and a half of them, while finding different things that go well on a toast (the magician spells its name out for him from the letters on page 3), while they read - pausing occasionally to shake the crumbs out of the book.

He reaches the end of the page. Waits. The page stays stubbornly unturned. He nudges the magician, whose attention has been drifting. He shakes his head and starts to turn the page, when he pauses, flipping back to the front of the book again, ignoring the huff of annoyance in his ear - they were about to get to ‘that’s what Bilbo Baggins hates’, and he likes that bit. If they’re going to be starting the book over again when it already takes them so long to understand a single page…

The magician doesn’t look at the cover this time, but the inside of it, where there are some markings quite unlike the words in the book. They are clearly written by hand. He’d never been able to decipher them and wondered if the owner of the book was like the bird in chapter fifteen, whose ‘speaking’ they couldn’t understand. They look similar to how you might write your name in one to show that it’s yours - if you weren’t a four-legged.

Suddenly he starts to his feet - sending the magician sprawling and knocking over the empty jam jar. They’ve been reading for ages! He hurries to the clock. Then he relaxes. It’s only 11 o’clock.

…Wait.

He lets out a howl of misery and flops onto the floor. It’s not very dignified, but he is rather upset.

The magician vaults over his outstretched tail, and peers out of the cavern. He hurries back and shakes him, pulling at him to get up. He lets the magician bundle him out of the cave. Maybe they haven’t missed it quite yet? The magician points straight up - fly. He doesn’t want to if it means the magician gets left behind though, that’s what makes it special. And he can’t carry him safely - he might fall.

The magician takes a steadying breath and stands very close to him. One hand on his staff, and with the other strokes up the side of his scales of his neck. Or they can stay here. That’s good too. The magician’s eyes are fixed on his, gentle and soft and happy. Yes, should probably stay like this forever.

And then the magician’s not on the ground any more. A momentary flicker of panic in his eyes, calming as he raises his claw to give him something to hold onto. It wasn’t just his imagination back there then - there really was floating. He loves magic.

The magician, still not taking his eyes off his, gestures up with the staff, wobbling slightly. He shouldn’t be able to fall now. Gently as he can, he balances him with his other set of claws, crouches and unfurls his wings. He pauses and waits for confirmation. Gripping him tightly, the magician nods.

The next ten seconds are a blur of air and buffeting and ridiculousness. He lands on the top of the mountain on two legs, with a bit of a skid. His magician laughing and disheveled, holding onto him for dear life, but there’s still no weight to him. All things considered he doesn’t think it was bad for a first time.

The magician straightens himself up, and leaning down, kisses him on the nose. He’s not used to being the short one. But this time the magician doesn’t drift back down. They look at one another. Maybe there needs to be a bookcase being knocked over?

As if he summoned one, there’s a crash.

Bolts of different coloured light and fireballs start to brighten the dark. It’s started. He drags the still floating magician over to their tree - it’s the best place. For one moment, of one night, all around his mountain, every four-legged capable makes their presence known. There are joyous roars and howls and screeches like waves surrounding them - it’s never been this loud before. His magician looks around in awe. Clearly the five-fingers don’t celebrate like this. He gets to be the first his magician shares this with.

A far off wave of sound and light swoops towards them and he can feel it pulling air into his lungs. His magician lets go of him, kicking off to float by the tree - branches in reach, and with the same awestruck look, he nods at him. With that image filling him up, he tilts his head back, and illuminates the sky.