only a bit more to go

andromedasstars  asked:

hi your andriel 'I hate Neil Josten and his pretty face' headcanon is beautiful and pure and wholesome and has healed my soul and i was hoping you'd be open to expanding on Neil's 'revenge' calling out Andrew and being dorky in the process?

Hi! Sorry for the late reply! Thank you so much and, sure, here you go!

  • Andrew is waiting for it
  • he knows Josten’s too much of an actual child to let go of the video
    • no matter that he solved the coming-out problem
    • and made Renee and Reynolds a tonshit of money
    • fucker never knows when to back down, does he?
  • so really
  • he’s not that surprised when Nicky sends him a link to some live streaming website
  • there’s 10-reasons-to-hate-Andrew-Minyard-by-Neil-Josten in the page name so it’s not hard to guess what’s going to happen

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michaela-armstrong-paul  asked:

Imagine if Joan tagged along with Marsali when she left with Fergus.

Adopted Daughters

Part 1/?

“Christ,” Jamie muttered next to Claire at the ship’s railing, his hands tightening sharply on the wood and his knuckles going white.

“What?” Claire peered at the small skiff with its passengers approaching their ship, the wind already filling its sails and pulling them out to sea and away from the coast. She recognized Fergus and there seemed to be someone else next to him—perhaps two bodies—but his position blocked her sight of them.

Jamie smacked his hand on the rail and stormed to where the rope and slat ladder was being lowered for the last few passengers to climb aboard. Claire followed and heard Jamie’s voice take on a surprisingly gentle tone considering his anger and frustration a moment before.

“Hold tight now,” he called and reached down. “Keep yer mind on what ye’re about—one foot, then the other. There ye are, I’ve got ye now.”

The small and wary body of Joanie MacKimmie was hauled aboard and she wound up securely in Jamie’s arms, though whether he had pulled her to him or she had thrown herself at him for comfort was unclear.

Marsali MacKimmie was close behind her younger sister, a sackcloth bag secured to her back and Fergus ascended last, similarly laden with hastily packed belongings. Jamie settled Joanie back on the deck letting her continue to cling to his side as he leveled his gaze at Fergus and Marsali.

“What do ye think ye’re doing here?” He fought to keep his voice level as the ladder was raised and the ship pulled further to open water. “Dragging the wee lass with ye too? No,” he shook his head firmly and turned to seek the captain. “We’re turning around and taking ye back. Yer mam will have me strung up if she thinks I had any part of this.”

Joanie began to cry quietly with fear but didn’t appear sure of where to find the comfort she craved. Marsali had an arm around Fergus while his rested on her shoulders pulling her close.

Claire was speechless as she stood a few feet away watching Marsali turn to glare defiantly at Jamie while Fergus swallowed, resolute but sheepish. Joanie was a frightened mess with tears trickling down her sallow cheeks and her eyes quickly growing red.

“Ye cannae send me back,” Marsali challenged Jamie. “For one, ye’re no my father and by yer own choice and two, Fergus and I are married. Where he goes, I go and where I go, Joanie goes.”

“Married?” Jamie blinked. “And when did ye manage that?”

“We were handfast this morning, Milord,” Fergus explained with a happy smile and a glance to Marsali.

“No,” Jamie said again as though simply saying it aloud would be enough to make it so. “And even if ye were properly wed, it isna an excuse for dragging yer sister halfway across the world on a whim!”

“Jamie,” Claire interrupted, scolding. Marsali’s sharp and accusing gaze fell on her but Claire’s attention was focused on Joanie. “Hello Joan,” she said quietly. “My name is Claire. You look like you’re feeling unwell.”

Joanie nodded still holding tight to Jamie who was also beginning to look green and had beads of sweat beginning to break out on his forehead.

“Aye. Captain!” he called. “Make for shore, if ye please!”

The captain laughed. “Even if I did, we’re too far underway. We’ll stop in Ireland for final provisions but that’s the best I can promise.”

Joanie vomited on the deck and her quiet tears became loud and embarrassed sobs.

Claire remembered a time when she’d been called to come pick Brianna up from school because she’d been ill. Brianna had been nine and fluctuated between a clammy and sickly pallor and a redness that seemed to leech from her hair into her face. When they were finally at home and Claire had Brianna tucked into bed, the girl had finally broken down sobbing over how she’d been sick in front of everyone and some of the boys had laughed at her while the girls had screamed in horror.

“It’s all right,” Claire said again in a warm and soothing tone, this time to Joanie.

Reflexively reaching to comfort and check the child for symptoms it might be more than just seasickness, she froze when Marsali shouted, “Dinna touch her ye English witch!” and rushed forward. Joanie began to cry harder.

“Marsali.” Jamie’s tone was cold and sharp. “Ye’ll no speak to Claire like that if ye intend to remain on this ship.”

“Please, ma chére,” Fergus soothed. “Milady will not harm her. She is a healer and will help her to feel well again.”

Marsali clenched her teeth and glared at Jamie but stayed still while Claire returned to tending Joanie.

“Why don’t we let them talk and I’ll help get you cleaned up,” Claire suggested, glancing at Jamie who nodded his thanks. “Then I can give you something to settle your tummy and you can lie down and rest a bit.” She extended her hand for Joanie to take.

The girl looked at it a moment then looked up at Jamie. He smiled and gave her a nod of encouragement. But while she no longer looked wary about Claire, there was still something obviously bothering her. He bent himself to her level and whispered, “What is it, lass?”

“I… I’m sorry about the mess,” she whispered back, her eyes darting to the pile of sick on the deck. Tears spilled silently from her eyes again.

“DInna fash, Joanie,” Jamie assured her, keeping his voice down. “I’ve made a mess or two like that myself and am like to do so again before long. On deck up here isna so bad as down below. There ye dinna want it on the floor but up here, they’ll just drop a bucket to the sea, splash it across the boards and it’ll be clean again. Now go on and get ye some rest. I’ll be along to check on ye as soon as I’ve talked more wi’ yer sister.”

Joanie looked a bit relieved as she let Claire lead her to the stairs that led them below deck and to the first of the two cabins.

“Have a seat and I’ll be back in a moment,” Claire urged the young girl before departing only long enough to fetch some fresh water and blankets. “Rinse your mouth out with this,” she instructed Joanie, handing her a cup and then following with the bucket for her to spit into.

“Thank ye,” Joanie murmured when she’d finished.

“And do you feel like you’ll be sick again? Or has it passed?” Claire asked getting onto her knees so she could examine Joanie’s pupils and verify she wasn’t feverish. Then she wet a cloth and began wiping the girl’s face clear of tears and snot. Her face was red from the crying and nerves.

“It’s… gettin’ better… I think,” Joanie responded. “Is… is Da very angry do ye think? He cannae send us back, can he? I saw them handfast.”

“I’m not sure it’s the handfasting he’s most worried about,” Claire explained, moving to sit on the berth and bracing herself so she didn’t hit her head as the ship rolled with the swell. “I think he’s  worried about what your mother will have to say.”

Joanie’s lip trembled and more tears welled in her eyes.

“Tha’s why we had to come,” she whimpered. “Mam’s gone. The soldiers took her… for shooting Da.”

“Someone turned over the pistol and told ‘em what Ma’d done to ye,” Marsali explained to Jamie having trouble meeting his eye for the first time since boarding.

“Marsali, ye must ken it wasna me nor would Claire. I didna want you and Joanie to suffer for yer mam’s mistakes,” Jamie hastily assured her, “not when her anger toward me wasna wholly unjustified.”

“We know, Milord. It was Mistress Murray,” Fergus said.

“Jenny?” Jamie’s brow darkened with confusion.

“Aye, Milord. When she heard of her son… she believed it was punishment for her interference…” he glanced down at Marsali who was staring at their shoes on the deck. “She thought that if she could take steps to make it right, we would be rewarded in finding young Ian and bringing him safe home.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, both frustrated with Jenny and feeling her pain alongside his own guilt. Hadn’t he had similar thoughts about using the money to pay Laoghaire and keep Claire for himself.

“I see what ye mean, Marsali. Ye couldna leave her behind and if yer mam is… well, I understand how ye wouldna want to stay to be gawked at and pitied. But handfast or not, the two of you are not sharing a berth till ye’re properly wed,” Jamie pressed. “And tha’s no like to happen till we reach Jamaica. So, Marsali, you and Joanie will share a cabin wi’ Claire and Fergus will bunk wi’ me.”

“What? Ye want me to share a room with the hoor that drove Ma to land herself in an English prison?” Marsali frowned and shook her head. “I’ll no do it. I’ll sleep aboard deck in the open before I sleep in the same room as her.”

Jamie stepped closer, looming over his stepdaughter. “Wi’ yer mam gone ye could have stayed with her kin in Scotland but ye chose to come here and put yerselves under my care as yer father by marriage.”

“I chose Fergus,” Marsali snapped taking her own step closer, peering up at him from under a judgemental brow she inherited from her mother.

“And Fergus has been a son to me for many years now—to me and Claire,” Jamie smiled in challenge. “Like it or not, Claire’s a mother to ye now so ye might want to try makin’ the best of it. She’ll be a part of yer life so long as ye choose to be here. But…” he stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest, still smiling. “If ye wish to disembark when we stop for final provisions and make yer way back home from there, ye’re free to do so.”

Marsali’s face screwed up with anger and frustration but she said nothing more, just turned on her heel and stalked toward the bow of the ship. Fergus shot an apologetic smile at Jamie but before he had turned to follow Marsali, his resignation and joy had started to reassert their control of his expression.

Jamie had a difficult time begrudging the lad his happiness, even if he found it thoroughly surprising that Marsali had been the one to capture his affections—and vice versa. He watched as Fergus went to stand beside Marsali at the rail and slipped an arm protectively around her. Marsali tilted her head to rest on his shoulder and they looked so peaceful and content.

Jamie swallowed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to maintain his anger and frustration for long—certainly not as long as Marsali with Laoghaire’s blood running in her veins. He was ashamed he felt so little regret over learning Laoghaire had been imprisoned and knew part of it was the unexpected joy of having the lasses with him again. He only hoped Claire didn’t mind. How would she feel being asked to help him raise Laoghaire’s children? She’d been so hurt seeing Joanie that first night. His stomach churned dangerously at the thought of seeing that betrayal creep back into her eyes when she looked at him.

Hurrying to the railing, Jamie leaned over and was sick.

Claire had calmed and reassured Joanie as best she could with so little insight into what had happened. She had gotten the girl to lie down in the berth before turning her attention to brewing some ginger tea to help settle her own stomach, though its knots were more the result of growing anxiety and uncertainty than from the rise and fall of the ship.

Joanie had fallen asleep when Jamie knocked on the cabin door and peeked his head in to check on them.

Claire was on her feet in a moment pouring him a cup of tea and urging him to sit down.

“You look positively green,” she whispered.

He grimaced as he swallowed the tea and set the cup down. “I’ll do,” he assured her unconvincingly then stared at Joanie curled up in the bunk. She was perhaps the only person aboard who could comfortably fit in it.

“She’s settled down a bit,” Claire informed him. “She’s… quite upset about what happened to her mother. Is it true? She’s been arrested?”

“Jenny,” Jamie said with a nod. “Trying to balance the scales of her actions. Marsali was right to bring her with them. Time away will help defuse the taint from Laoghaire. I’m just sorry it all came to this.”

“Well… as far as the list of people who might bear blame for all that has happened, I think the only thing I’m certain of is that Joanie and Marsali are not on it.” She looked over to the little girl sleeping in the berth, her cheek resting on her palm and the blankets cuddled to her chest. “It’s not their fault that Laoghaire is their mother.”

“We had our differences, Laoghaire and I—many of them,” Jamie murmured also watching Joanie’s slumber. “But I must say she always did what was best for her children.”

“With the recent exception of shooting you and getting herself arrested,” Claire jested, though she couldn’t dull the sharp, resentful edge of her words.

“With that exception, aye,” Jamie conceded then turned to Claire, pausing to gather himself before continuing. “I ken the vow I swore to Laoghaire when I wed her is… invalid… but it was a vow to more than just her… it concerned her girls as well. That one… I cannot consider it similarly invalid. They need me now, to watch out for them and to provide for them. With all I’ve done… I cannot turn my back on them—nor do I want to.”

Claire blinked and swallowed, glanced at Joanie then back to Jamie. Her tone was soft and warm as she reached across the small table to put her hand on Jamie’s. “Nor should you. They are not their mother and you’re right—they need you now.”

“They could use a mother too,” Jamie said with a question in his voice.

She chuckled with disbelief and shock. “You can’t be serious, Jamie… They hate me.”

“Joanie doesna hate ye and Marsali… she’ll come around.”

Claire shot him a look that left voicing her every doubt on that count unnecessary. Then she sighed. “I don’t suppose we have much choice in the matter.” She rose and crossed to help raise him from his chair. He was beginning to look decidedly ill and like he regretted drinking the tea. “However much Marsali may try to cast me as the evil step-mother, I shall endeavor to kill her with kindness.”

Jamie followed her guiding hands as she led him to the hallway and next door to his own berth. “Whether it be with kindness or no, I should think killing her would only secure ye that position.” He lay back on the bedding and gripped the edge of the berth to steady himself but groaned as the ship lurched over a steep swell.

Things Can Only Get Better Part 5 - Red

Slow Burn!Steve Harrington/Reader (UST, URT)
Word Count:

A/N: Happy Saturday, lovelies :) Don’t feel embarrassed to ask to be put on the tag list, lol. I think I’ve gotten everyone that’s asked. Remember, updates are on Saturdays. As always, requests are open Here and on AO3, under the same username.

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the struggle of being a (small) fanfic writer...

I’ve been debating a lot if I should address the issue or not but my confidence level is at the bottom so I decided just go with it and address the elephant in the room which applies to me and others too.

I’ve been writing to this fandom for almost two years now and during that time I noticed many things and interacted with various kind of readers. In the last 5 months I secretaly analyzed my updates and write down statistics for that just to prove that I didn’t only imagine the problem. So what did I see? What made me insecure about writing?

I have 5 outgoing fics with different pairs/side pairs so I had plenty of time to see what I will show you now. An update usually reach 1000-2000 people, I gain around 20 kudos with each update ….it sounds good right? why did I even start this post? I really appreciate the kudos and the fact that you devote your time to click on my small, useless story, believe me, I do….however sometimes it would be nice to hear the readers opinion in a different way -> I’m talking about comments. Although that many people check out my fic I only get  3-4 comments  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ on he best days 10 which is woow it actually lifts up my mood until the next chapter and urges me to work faster to give another update. But yeah, usually I get around 4 comments but there were times when I got 1 

The problem is that my situation is actually pretty good compared to others lol since there are many other fic writers who don’t even get this much feedback!!!! I think you readers are not aware of the power of the comment - it sounds weird but it’s true. When an author update a fic or just write one, all of them do it with beating heart, anxiety and excitement. We share our aus with pure heart, give a small piece of ourselves to you and we wait patiently to see how you will react, what you will think because your opinions matter. Because most of us aren’t  professional writers and there are many who are insecure about themselves - a comment like: “i enjoyed this chapter” ; “ ahh I cant wait what will happen because X and X interaction” etc - all of these flutter us and make our day so much better. It shows us that okay, there are people who are interested , who are as excited as I am when I’m writing instead of sleeping, doing my duties or other stuff. ( every author put lots of effort into their work, they use their free time to write instead of enjoying other things) 

I write because I love doing it - it’s a precious hobby which makes me relax and also helps me to improve my language skills. However, it doesn’t mean that I’m a robot who can’t get hurt, who will be okay with everything. Besides of lack of comment there is the issue with the rude ones. “I will un-bookmark you because you didn’t update in a month” or “When will you update? Halooo?” lol… I get it that you love the story (can you believe that I can be happy sometimes thanks to this comment too when I don’t receive any feedback from readers lmao - the duality of the situation is ridiculous right? ) So yeah, I’m really glad that you enjoy my story that much that you want to read more but instead of writing this I would appreciate the nice comments like I mentined above. Threatening authors, demanding updates are not okay - as you know, we have school/work too so when you go home and finally relax a little bit well we use that time to write something. 

Also I would like to tell you in some of my friends’ behalf that small authors are NOT jealous of big authors - or not for the reason why you think so. The only thing which they ever envied of them was the interaction and feedback ( understand: comments) what they get. So whoever started this rumor, please stop it…. 

Also this is for fic writers who struggle:

  • you should be always proud of yourself whatever happens since you try your best - sometimes it doesn’t work out, sometimes it does, but don’t forget that writing is actually a process: nobody starts with brilliant abilities, best vocabulary etc but we all improve with each work
  • don’t look at writing as a competiton, never forget the joy which comes to it since that was the sparkle which urged you to start it
  • when you have a rude reader/comment first explain the problem with calm manner in a hope that the other will understand  - and if they still don’t get it then ignore them or address the issue 
  • I’m really sorry if you ever feel sad, if you ever feel like you don’t want to write anymore - don’t ever feel guilty for taking a step back and rest a little bit - we all need a little bit chill, yeah? ^^

I’m going to get so much hate for this but yeah….I wanted to tell this because for a while now I was seriously debating how to continue my writing in the fandom. I don’t want to leave because as I said I like writing, also I’m going to finish all of my fics because I promised to myself and to the readers (sometimes I put my stories on hiatus beacuase I can’t handle that much but that’s it) - the thing which I’m on debating is : Do i ever want to write multi chaptered fic or should I just stick to one shots and then bumm people will read 40k- 100k in one sit or not? but some stories are just so much better when they are in chaptered form ~ but the sadness which comes with the update is there

anyway, i hope many of you will show love to those fics which you enjoy, and don’t forget to voice out your love :) authors are thirsty for that heheh

anonymous asked:

What if Will doesn't use himself as bait to lure Hannibal, but he retreats, which Hannibal would expect. So Hannibal thinks he has to go after him and lure him. And then Will strikes. And I always think Hannibal the devil isn't fully explored. Hannibal hunts(stalks) people and manipulates them like a puppet master. Although he does it subtly without their awareness(Will is aware, of course), he is certainly a control freak. We rarely see him tempt them into his trap except for maybe Antony?

I suspect that if Will had retreated, the outcome would have been more or less the same because the way Will did things was necessitated by their psychologies, meaning that regardless who initiated the contact, the behaviors would probably have been essentially the same. Hannibal’s certainly not going to leave Will alone by any means, so I suppose the only real difference here is the amount of time it would take and that the version from the show is better suited to television while the version you’ve got here might be better suited for a novel. 

Hannibal functions as devil in two different fashions, and we see a fair bit of both of them. One is as the punisher of sins and overseer of hell, and this is the fairly obvious part where he carves people up in some gesture of symbolic retribution and then sentences them to the fiery depths of his tum-tum. 

The other is as the tempter, and we see that manifest in two ways as well. The first is again the fairly obvious part where he gets people into situations where they’ll (hopefully) kill. This applies most transparently to Will, Abigail, Bedelia, Miriam Lass, Randall Tier, Margot, and Chiyoh. So we’ve already got a lot of Hannibal-as-tempter (”What Hannibal does is not coercion. It is persuasion.”) just with this. 

But it also works on a less transparent level: Will offers the thesis in the very first episode–in practically the first line–that everyone has thought about killing someone, whether it be by your own hand or the hand of God. And by the time we get to the end of the show, every one of the surviving (and many of those who die) major characters has either killed directly or had a hand in killing: Jack kills his wife, Alana and Margot kill Mason, Chiyoh kills a multitude of goons for Hannibal in addition to the one guy Will got her to kill. Even Freddie Lounds and Frederick Chilton have both been culpable in murders (those of Nicholas Boyle and the night nurse, respectively). Although some of these characters have found their own way into sin, so to speak, Hannibal–and Hannibal’s agency–helped pave the way for the rest. 

Additionally, the most insidious way–and, I’d argue, with the most significant religious implications–Hannibal tempts people is to persuade them to hide their sins. Will speaks of this openly to Frederick Chilton in S2 when he tells him that the only way for him to be saved is to go to God (Jack) and repent and confess. But it comes up from pretty much from the start: Hannibal’s first means of getting Will under his influence is to collude with him by rubber stamping his psych eval, then getting Will to hide his hallucination from Jack. He shares the secret of Bella’s cancer with her and then hides it from Jack until Jack finds out on his own, he colludes with Frederick Chilton over the #unorthodox. Then there’s the whole Bedelia and Neal Frank thing. Hannibal gets Abigail to ask him to help her hide Nick Boyle’s body, then sneaks her out of her hospital and hides things from Alana. In fact, it’s when Abigail starts to refuse to hide things by agreeing to collaborate with Freddie Lounds and unearthing Nick Boyle that Hannibal starts to lose control over the S1 situation. That Freddie Lounds has no shame and therefore no reason to hide much of anything is one of the reasons he has so little power over her. 

For sin, there is grace, but not for those who don’t confess and repent. One of the major tenets of Christian belief is that when you aren’t right with God–when you haven’t confessed and repented–then you open yourself up to the machinations and influence of the fiend. 

anonymous asked:

Hooooow about Reinhardt with “i wish you saw in yourself what i see in you.”?

A/N: I…I um… think I have just a small bias for this guy. And leave it to him, to comfort you when you’re feeling a bit down, hmn?

Tagging: @ravenvelith [cause it’s overwatch – and our Hottie 7′4″ grandpa.]

You pushed yourself too hard, and you knew it the moment that you bit the dirt, that people were going to be laughing at you for your blunder. Slamming your fists against the ground you pushed yourself upright only to cry out and fall to your side, wincing at the pain that shot up your leg. 


Lifting your head, you noticed your squadmates were getting further ahead of you, and with a determined grunt, you pushed yourself up to your feet, and despite your hobble, you took off after them, only to feel your leg buckle under you again, and you once more hit the dirt. 


You tried to get up again, growling softly before you lowered your head, fists clenched. You trembled as you felt Reinhardt’s large hand resting on your shoulder. 

You turned your head to look back at him, a brow lifting. 

“I-I can still–”


And with a squeal from you, he turned you around and lifted you up into his large arms, one arm behind your shoulders, the other under your knees as he held you against his broad chest. You blinked a few times and blushed brightly before you squirmed a bit. 

“R-Rein! No, please, let me finish!”

“Please Liebling, You are injured…”

“I can finish the course dammit!”

His brows shot up as he looked at you, and his arms seemed to wrap about you more so. His head cocked to the side a little as he studied you, causing you to blush right up to your ears. 

“Why must you push yourself so hard, Liebling?”

You looked up at him then, wide eyed, before you sighed and looked down at your hands in your lap. You felt him move, and start to walk back towards Watchpoint, probably to take you to the infirmary. 

“…much to live up to…” you muttered.

“What was that?”

You sighed again, and slowly looked up at him. “I have much that is expected of me, so much to live up to. A-And–”

He said nothing, but kept walking, waiting for you to finish. 

“–and the fact that the others know I am dating you, they expect me to be as strong as you are, and I am nothing compared to you…”

He stopped then, his expression somewhat angry as he scowled a little before he once more, cocked his head. 

“Liebling, tell me who has told you, that you are not strong enough?”

You pushed your lips into a flat line, and shook your head, looking down at your hands. You felt him move, almost crushing you against his chest as he started his trek once more to the infirmary. You kept quiet, before you let your eyes close when you felt his lips press gently against your forehead. 

“You are stronger than I am…”

You blinked your eyes open at his soft words, your eyes snapping up to look at him. He smiled at you gently, before he stopped again, and started to pepper your face with kisses. 

“Gah! Rein! No! Ah! HAHA! Stop!”

He smiled more when he got you to laugh, then gently pressed his forehead against your temple. 

“You have taken on so much Liebling, you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for, and I wish you saw in yourself what I see in you. The others are in awe of you, inspired by you…”

You gave him a bit of a look, but huffed as you felt that heat in your ears start to creep down your neck. 

“And if anyone tells you that you are not strong enough, tell me. I will prove them wrong.”

You snorted. “Rein, punching them into the pavement doesn’t count as proving them wrong…”

He grinned a little. 

“Still, it would be fun!”

anonymous asked:

Hello I'm trying my first binge but I'm stuck -- can I have some encouragement please?

You’re stuck?!  Don’t worry, you can push though!  Just imagine the chunky flab you’re going to be packing onto your body, the layers of lard your hard work is creating.  After all, this is what you signed up for, right?  To become a fatty?

The first binge is the hardest, your stomach isn’t used to the glut of food and junk you’re shoveling in to it.  That will only change as you grow more and more stretching and bloating to bigger and bigger limits.

Enjoy this time of relative smallness, for before you know it you’ll be on your way to plumpness, pudge pouring out of every seam, but only if you keep going!

Eat, relish the taste of your meal, the sugar and fat sating your gluttonous tongue, your midsection expanding and bulging with pride and pleasure.

You can do one more bite, just a bit at a time.  Take a sip of that drink, before pouring the rest down your hungry gullet.  Your belly will thank you later. ;)

she doesn’t exactly hear the words the man had spoken the moment his gaze cast over her, but rather only snippets — bastard, betrothal, skirts, whore. josie’s tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip, passing a barely there smile onto the man before she dipped into a curtsey and scurried off; seeking out wine at the nearest servant’s hand. ( the sooner she could have a little bit of liquid courage in her veins, the sooner she could forget the sting of unshed tears in her eyes. )

a hearty sip of the sweet wine later and the tight coil in her belly lessens, just that much more. “i rather feel this celebration is going to be a long one, no?”


infodumping about the ocean


Boom!Cafe Au ! Where Amy opens up her dream Cafe with the help of her friends, assisting around the place! ( 6//v//6) A borrowed au from soaspersonal on Twitter!

Date a boy who...
  • Looks at you like you put the moon, sun and the rest of the starts on the sky- 

-even when you are not there

  • Decides to be goofey with you
  • Seems to drift close to you because you make him comfortable
  • Is there to offer you help and at the same time respects your boudaries- 

-and decisions

  • Would fight tooth and nail for you when you are vulnerable
  • Will never give you his back and instead receive you with a hug
  • Trusts your abilities no matter what
  • Will open up to you on his moments of weakness because he trusts you
  • Who will be there to have your back even on the moments you are doubting of yourself
  • Date…. Shiro

Date Takashi Shirogane


things are gonna get better for you. ha! have they gotten better for you? for me? look, i’m alone. i’ve – i’ve – i’ve been alone so long, i … i like it. you know, i – i hide in it. one thing i know is that … the only way out … is to find something that you care about. those kids, they might drive you crazy, they might … they might make you completely bat shit, but … they’re the reason you’re gonna get through this. … have you found something to do that for you? … uh … maybe … yeah, maybe.

#every single detail of this ladies and gents. #karen looking at his mouth the whole time in the first gif. #the way he pushes in and she tilts her head to the right like she thinks they’re going to kiss. #the way he pushes in and to the left before pausing and glancing down to her lips like they’re going to kiss. #the way they only then halt and only then karen pulls back and they rest their foreheads against one another. #they just breathe together for a beat before he opens his eyes and glances at her lips once more. #and when he does that she tilts her head /again/. #and her lips part just a little bit. #and i’m over here watching in complete and utter pain. #let’s be honest karen is no stranger to the dramatic moment of silence after a batch of chaos. #but this. it’s just so organic. and the fact that it doesn’t happen makes it all the better. #this is the pair of them literally … living together. #just resting on each other and breathing the other in. because they know they’re parting for now. #and then the look in his eyes as she tells him to go. #the look of a man who just got shot up on mission that becomes specifically entitled ‘save karen page’. #and now has to leave her battered up in an elevator. #and of course it only gets worse after this moment. the tears in their eyes. because they’ve got no clue if they’re going to see each other again. gosh.

Ice cream

Draco grunted as he fumbled with the collar of his dress shirt. His face was contorted in distaste as he felt little beads of sweat running down his neck. Ugh, disgusting! Potter had already pointed out that it was far too hot outside to be wearing a dress shirt, but Draco refused to wear the kind of sordid clothes Potter seemed to love so much. It suited him, of course, but Draco had a reputation to uphold.

That was a bit of a stupid reason, even Draco had to admit it, seeing as they were out and about in Muggle London, but Draco, unlike Potter, had class.

Them being friends was still very new to him and definitely needed some getting used to. Potter seemed already comfortable around Draco, always blabbering on about this and that, bumping Draco’s arm with his elbow, grinning at him mischievously…

Blaise had remarked that it very much seemed like he and Potter were dating, but that was just ridiculous. They had just met for coffee a few times, had gone to the movies (Potter’s idea of course and Draco was still a bit traumatised) and had gone for a few walks, like now. Yes, Draco had been a little surprised earlier when Potter had asked him if he wanted to come back to his place later for dinner, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary, was it? Friends did that… right?

As they continued walking down the street, Draco peered sideways and saw that Potter’s face was rather flushed and there were little beads of sweat running down his neck, too.

“Maybe we should have stayed inside today,” Potter wheezed. “I honestly don’t understand how you haven’t fainted yet.” He gazed at Draco’s shirt and his cloth trousers in discomfort.

“Well,” Draco began, eyeing Potter’s burgundy T-shirt and his short trouser, which reached to his knees, “I was taught elegance is a virtue, as well as endurance. Clearly, a concept which seems to be lost on you.” He let his eyes wander over Potter’s body and gave him an appraising look when their eyes met again. Potter seemed to stifle a giggle.

“What?” Draco snapped.

“Endurance,” Potter snorted. “Alright then.” He flashed Draco a toothy grin. Draco had no idea what was so funny about that, but didn’t get the chance to ask. Potter’s eyes had focused on something on the other side of the street. Draco turned around, but had no idea what had caught Potter’s attention.

“Wait here,” Potter told him and and sprinted off. Draco crossed his arms over his chest, huffing. What was Potter up to? And how dare he make Draco wait alone in the middle of the street like this?

Draco tapped his foot impatiently as the minutes passed by. When Potter finally came into view again, Draco saw that he was holding… two ice lollies?

“Here,” Potter said enthusiastically, holding one out to Draco. He gave it a quick glance and made a face.

“No thank you,” he grunted.

“What? Why?”

“I don’t like ice cream,” Draco shrugged. Potter’s eyes widened at that.

“What? How can you not like ice cream?” He sounded genuinely baffled.

“I just don’t.”

Potter kept staring at him, the incomprehension at Draco’s revelation clearly visible on his face.

“You’re dripping,” Draco noted with a raised eyebrow.

“What? Oh!” Only now did Potter seem to notice that the ice lollies were melting quickly, dripping all over his hands. He lifted one hand to his mouth and dragged his tongue over his knuckles slowly. Mesmerised, Draco watched as Potter did the same thing to his other hand.

“You sure you don’t want it?” Potter asked, oblivious to Draco’s sudden inner turmoil. Not trusting his voice at this moment, he just waved a dismissive hand in the air. Potter shrugged and lifted one of the ice lollies to his mouth.

Sweet Merlin!

Draco almost choked as Potter’s lips closed around the ice lollie. He pushed it deeper into his mouth and started sucking. Draco had to control himself not to clutch his chest in surprise. He winced when Potter made a slurping noise.

“You know,”  Potter said happily, “I had my first ice lolly when I was ten years old. I really like them.”

Draco had trouble concentrating on what Potter was saying, but still, a frown formed on his face.

“You hadn’t had ice cream before that?”

Potter shook his head and looked at the two ice lollies in his hands. They were both dripping like mad. He lifted one to his mouth again and licked it, painfully slow, from the bottom up, before sticking it in his mouth again. This time, he twirled it around, before releasing it again with a little ‘pop’.

Draco was sure he was about to faint. The heat wasn’t exactly helping, either.

“Potter,” he spluttered. He stepped forward and gazed at his mouth intently. “Ugh, you really are an imbecile, aren’t you?”

Potter’s mouth and his chin were smeared with the remnants of the ice lolly. Draco reached out and stroked the corner of Potter’s mouth with his thumb. He saw Potter’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

“It’s sticky,” Draco muttered. He wasn’t really aware that he was leaning down, until his tongue made contact with Potter’s skin. Surprised by his own boldness, he quickly stepped back.

“I don’t know why I did that.”

Potter was flushed and he looked like he was trying to decide something.

“Sod that,” he suddenly muttered and let go of the two ice lollies. Before they hit the ground, Potter had his arms around Draco’s neck and their lips pressed together. Draco made a startled sound when Potter’s tongue pushed into his mouth. He tasted like artificial oranges. Yuck! But the things Potter apparently could do with that tongue…

“Let’s go back to my place,” Potter panted after a few moments. “Oh, but first, let me go back to that store real quick.”

Draco frowned.


“Because,” Potter said with one of his mischievous grins, “I want more ice cream.” He dropped his voice to a low, seductive whisper. “I want creamy, rich chocolate ice cream.” Draco shuddered at the way Potter was looking at him. “And I plan to lick it off your chest and out of your navel.”

This time, Draco really did choke. He recovered rather quickly, however, and grabbed Potter’s hand.

“Merlin, what are we waiting for?”

 so some fun facts about working in carpentry (from someone in the field) that probably no one wants but could be fun for writing about julia and mags with:

  • it is so so important to maintain a positive relationship with your clients and that’s probably why mags is so proud of his rustic hospitality and wants to use it at every corner because your relationships and reputation is half the job
  • for one you get returning clients and tends to be the best and most reliable source of income and you also usually will end up getting gifts from them too which is, sweet
  • if they’re doing pretty well off during a year i’m almost certain that they offer discounts for their services for the poorer members of raven’s roost, mangus in particular has a “doggy discount” that if they own a dog and they let it work with him they get a good discount
  • both of them (+plus stephen) are probably ambidextrous to a degree as when working on repeat projects, you tend to get really tired and sore and continue working until that arm gives out and then switch to the other to be able to continue working
  • going with that, you get paid by commission or project usually and so hypothetically you could pick up as many as possible (or as many as the union will allow) and probably will do that a couple times and you could literally blow out your entire body but be set for the year in a couple weeks
  • going with the stress on the body, the physical labor definitely means that they have bad knees and probably a bad arm as well not to mention if there is a lot of heavy lifting you can get multiple hairpin fractures along your spine and legs causing intense pain that cannot be treated 
  • also if they’re working with saws (which i’m pretty sure trav did say were in the pocket workshop) then i have no idea why mags reacted so badly to losing a finger because everyone i have ever worked with has or has almost cut off their finger once a week
  • also you get a very high tolerance for pain (which probably helps mags as being a sword for hirer)  like i have literally sliced my entire forearm open and just wrapped it up and continued working
  • since raven’s roost has a carpentry district, that most likely means that they have a lumber sister town that provides all of the resources
  • and again, going with the importance of rustic hospitality, if you’re friends with the lumber providers then you will get first pick on the quality wood and quality literally will save you days of work
  • if there’s a bad harvest one year then it will fucking suck because people don’t stop needing furniture or buildings and you as the carpenter have to pick up the slack for the shitty warped wood and most projects will take about double the time
  • woodworking is a skill trade and has to be learned over years so most likely by the time mags came along julia was already extremely skilled and is able to do commissions and bids on her own and has her own reputation in ravens roost (which…tbh mags could have very well apprenticed under her) 
  • it is extremely hard to go from apprenticing one carpenter to another because even the basics get muddled with your own style to the point where most people measure in different ways and cutting something wrong (especially cutting it short) will waste so much material thus mags being brand new to apprenticing under stephen probably takes years while jules just laughs each time he fucks up a leg of a chair

latinx lance stan: the vlog wasn’t as good as people say it because it made me, and other latinx fans, uncomfortable/angry at the fact that lance was reduced to the brainless latino flirt stereotype when he’s showed so much development through the seasons

gringx “stan”: yeah i know but the vlog uses subtext to break the [brainless latino flirt] stereotype apart!!! it’s all planned ur just not digging hard enough to see it !!1! plus i identify with lance too you know 🙄 i’m insecure too so obviously im going to make my issues a priority over a latinx person’s opinion 🙄

no the truth is the writers just didn’t bother writing lance in a way that would be respectful not only to his personality/character but to his ethnic background. you cannot tell latinx people to “just dig a bit more!! you’ll see that this is actually good representation!! it breaks the stereotype!!” you CANNOT know what is good rep to latinx people, YOU ARE NOT LATINX AND WILL NEVER IDENTIFY WITH LANCE AS MUCH AS US LATINXS, NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU CLAIM TO LOVE LANCE.

i’m not saying this is a competition to know who loves lance more and if you do think that, you’re missing my point… i’m saying that gringxs claiming the vlog was “amazing” have and will never know how it hurts to see your favorite latinx characters (who are already underdeveloped at the expense of other characters  👀) be treated like they only have 1 facet to their personality who oh so happens to also fit a latinx stereotype we’ve already seen countless times…

i don’t want to rely on subtext or whatever to have good representation. i want to see it upfront, in the very middle of the plot, very explicitly and clearly. i other latinx fans deserve to. fuck your subtext and your stereotypes. don’t be cowards, write about us and experiences and out stories.