other one had a problem

anonymous asked:

Hi! So um, I may possibly be in somewhat of a similar situation that you were? I'm 14 and the person I love is 22. We've said it to each other and now we're just kinda waiting 4 years and he's going to another college this summer so I won't see him for a while. Would you possibly have any advice? (I'm also a stupid screaming child that wears him down a bit by putting myself down sometimes) ((I'm terribly sorry if I said something wrong for some reason)) (((also your art is coolll)))

Well love and respect will keep you toghether! We live in differect cities, far away one from the other, but we never had problems! (We see each other one time for month)
I trust him
He trust me (well……. no one really have the courage to do something that would make him angry………………….)
It’s not easy, you will miss him/her a lot, but you can talk at the phone, make videochat with skype and things like thatt!
I hope you two will be happy together!  ❤️

The Fic Writer’s Beatitudes

Blessed are the readers, for theirs is the archive.

Blessed are the betas: for they help us write the stories we see in our hearts.
Blessed are they that kudo, for they reassure us that someone likes what we’ve done.
Blessed are the rebloggers and reccers, for they help the readers find our work.
Blessed are they which leave comments on a WIP that say something other than “write more please”: for they comfort us when we feel taken for granted.
Blessed are the commenters; for their words bring us joy.
Blessed are the loyal fans, for they keep the fandom alive.
Blessed are the fan artists, for they bring our worlds to life before our eyes.
Blessed are they which read an entire long fic and comment each chapter, for the string of comment notifications fills the writer’s heart with delight.
Blessed are ye, who rec our fics in public and tag us, for seeing that we made somebody squee is the light in our days.
Rejoice, and be exceeding glad; for great is your reward in fandom.

The Problem with Climaxes: A Meta on Structure and Narrative.

so there we are. at the half-way point of the last season of SKAM. the last clip has resulted in some divisive opinions. i’m not gonna delve into them, but what i do want to discuss is how specifically this last clip shows us some troubles with the structure and narrative of this season in particular, and with a focus on how the climaxes are put in the story.

now, climaxes are moments a story when a certain plot reaches its highest point: it’s an intense moment where the action and tension becomes overwhelming and really changes the story. think of isak’s last moment in s3 ep 5: the tension of what even’s deal suddenly is comes to a heartbreaking climax. what this clip, imagine all the people living life in peace, and this season in particular shows us is that all the plot points, all the stories of the season thus far, needed to have their climax in this clip. it’s understandable, it’s the last clip for the break, so it needs to have some incentive for watchers to tune in after the break. but here’s the problem with having all the climaxes in one clip: SKAM relies on reality. it’s one of its biggest selling points: it feels real, bc the characters, relationships and stories that we see sound and feel real, especially if we include the social media aspect of it all. and let’s be totally honest here: it is highly improbable that SO many things go wrong in one evening. 

let’s look at all the plot points that have been risen during ep1-4:

- the russebuss/sara/vilde problem
- even’s mysterious past with sana’s brother and his friends (and how isak wants to know about it)
- noora’s problematic love life
- sana’s mother having trust issues
- sana’s love life with yousef

(also important is sana’s relationship with her religion, but that seems more of a theme underlying all these plots.)

so what do these plots have in common? all of these plots points had their climax in this particular clip; frankly all of them in a negative way to boot, except for the storyline with sana’s mother.not only that, the climaxes also were extremely rapid-fire after each other. vilde fucks over sana’s trust and goes behind her back; the boysquad and balloon squad fight each other; noora finds out about william and (suddenly) is seen kissing yousef. this all happens in a 10 minute clip.

personally, this reminded me of one of my less favourite scenes in s1: the christmas tree scene at the very end. in that scene, all the plots throughout the season had a small positive climax (eva hugging one person she had a problem with after the other, suddenly william shows up and apologises, eva closes off her storyline with isak, noora uses isak’s phone and finds some.. interesting sites..). which is all fine, but it all happened really quickly after each other. in one clip. and that makes it, at least for me, just less realistic. it’s clunky storytelling. having resolutions/climaxes so quickly after each other just doesn’t feel like real life, which SKAM purports to be. imagine that isak’s fifth episode ended not only with his heart broken, but also with his forced coming out, a big fight with his parents over his phone and sonja telling isak that “oh well he never loved you anyway, he’s bipolar”. that would just be too much. 

climaxes are fine, even needed, but as s3 has shown us: some climaxes should take longer or shorter, and they don’t all need to happen in the same clip for it to cause development in character or story. because another problem of having all the climaxes for this story in this clip is that the stories do not get in depth development before the climax are reached, which is why – for example – the storyline with the russebuss felt so.. long and a bit boring. there could never be a real resolution bc then the climax in this clip wouldn’t work as well.

and because this is feeling unrealistic, it’s doing a disservice to the real lives of poc muslimahs. it’s as if everything is heaped onto sana at the same moment, without her being able to do anything about it bc the story doesn’t allow her to. it’s, to be quite honest, frustrating. and i hope this structure in the narrative gets resolved more spread out rather than all, like in s1, in the same clip or episode. i guess we’ll see in the back half of the season. 

In Japan, there are bags called called “ita bags,” which translates to “painful bags.” They’re totes or backpacks with clear protective windows where people can hang various merchandise of their, well, whatever they happen to be into. Hardcore fans will hang so many items to the point that they’re painful to carry, which explains the name for these bags. The items can be expensive too depending on their rarity or number purchased, which makes them “painful” to the owner’s budget too. Samples here.

When I visited Japan a couple of months back, I thought it would be funny if someone would be vain enough to carry one containing a photo of their own face. I never saw someone doing so, so I decided to just draw a person doing it. :))


Imagine

Donald Pierce x reader

Warning: Smut/(totaldominationimsorrynotsorry)

You step forward. Your hands trembling as energy swarms around you. Laura-X23 stands behind you. Growling at the man who stood in front of you. Donald cocks his head, almost smiling.

“Let her go.”

“Oh… Y/N…”

“Don… Please.” You turn to Laura, who nods-dashing away. The soldiers start shooting at both of you, but you force a shield around yourself. Deflecting the bullets. Donald barely steps forward. You smile at him. “We’re still good for dinner, sweetheart, yea?” You call out, before engulfing yourself inside of your forcefield and teleporting to where Laura had gone. 5 miles away.

You catch your breath, then find Laura. “Come on.”

______________________

That night, you teleport into the street outside the house you and Donald had bought 3 years ago a week after you had met. You were almost afraid of walking inside. Afraid that this time, you had gone too far.

Walking up the steps, you clicked the lock open and stepped inside. Donald walked out from the other room. Anger furrowing his eyebrows. As he steps toward you, you feel yourself flinch away.

He had taken off his coat. His arms still slick from sweat due to the heat. His muscles tense around his arms.

His thick southern accent was hushed. Not a good sign. “I’m guessing you hid her away where we won’t possibly be able to find her…”

“Don-I.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He clenched his jaw. Holding his finger toward you.

_________________

To your surprise, he didn’t do anything when you got home. And that’s what terrified you most. Maybe you had gone too far. So far he wouldn’t even get mad.

Undressing from your day’s clothes, you shuffled into your pajamas and climbed into bed. A few minutes later, Don shut the door behind him. The lights were off, and all you could hear was his heavy breath.

The bed creaked under his weight, and suddenly, you felt his mouth on yours. He bit your bottom lip, holding your face with his machine hand. His human one pressing into the pillow beside your head. The cold metal around your cheek sending shivers down your spine as he climbed on top of you. Suffocating you with his weight as he barely propped himself up. Tearing off your pajamas, he held your arms above your head and adjusted himself between your legs. The air around you became hot, and you felt him slide his underwear off. Letting his member fall into the air above your stomach. Bringing your hips up, your breasts fell back, and he pushed into you. His gruff voice flushed with sex.

Hardly caring if he was being careful, he slammed against you. You gasped for air, but his hand wrapped itself around your neck, and you felt the blood throbbing through your head. Bringing your feet up to his shoulders, he pushed deeper with each thrust until you felt an orgasm building throughout your muscles. He released you from his grip, propping you up onto him so that your legs were wrapped around his waist, and your arms were around his neck. Holding your back with one hand and your hip with the other, he had no problem navigating your size and weight compared to his beefy figure. With each breath you took, you found yourself gasping for air as he dug his nails into you. Pain radiated through your joints.

Dropping you onto the bed, he suddenly grabbed your leg. Flinging you onto your stomach. You barely had time to prop yourself on your knees before he grabbed your hair, and pushed himself in all the way. You took in a shaky breath. Barely noticing a low whimper build up in your throat.

A couple of seconds went by as he slammed into you, groaning your name. Cursing into the air. Leaning himself over you, he finally slowed down. Kissing your shoulder. You felt him shudder, and the wetness between your legs dripped onto the bed sheets. Pulling out of you, he tenderly picked you up, and you breathed heavily- pushing against him. He leaned down, kissing you with hot lips. You felt his tongue against your gums and moaned. Running your fingers through his messy hair, and down over his back muscles.

After a soft kiss, he tightened his fingers in your hair, pulling back slightly so your chin raised in the air, and you shut your eyes. “Don’t ever think you can do what you did again, you hear?”

“Let me go.” You grunted. He complied with your order, and you grabbed his chin. “Don’t tell me what to do.” Sliding out of bed, you tied your hair back in a bun and turned to him before heading to the shower. “And wash the sheets, will you?”

Reverse burglary (a Christmas miracle)

(Based on this post. Sterek prompt, with a poor, grieving Derek who gets the safety and rescue he so desperately hopes for)

Derek sighs. The way to home from campus looks as unappealing as the stack of work that weighs down his bag. Snow and slush has filled the streets while he had been confined to the monotonic walls of the lecture room, coloring the ground with whites and grays and browns. 

Things have been tough for a long time now. Ever since Laura was killed, her body buried underneath the old and dilapidated Hale house, Derek’s been all alone. Grieving, anchorless mess. The fact that his own uncle had taken his alpha’s life, someone that was supposed to be family, was such a big blow that Derek hadn’t even known what to do with Peter afterwards.

Not that he had to do anything. His uncle had been killed by a hunter, Chris Argent, after Peter had gone rampant and apparently turned a couple teenagers in his fury. At first, a glimmer of hope had burst in Derek’s chest. Other wolves, just as lost and clueless as he was. It could mean a new start of a pack, a new family. Someone to get to be in contact with, to rely on without having to give anything but love in return.

It… Did not happen. 

The first boy that had been turned, the one with the slightly magical smelling friend, had rebuffed Derek so hard he was still blinking back tears whenever he thought of it. The second one he had approached from afar, but after getting the gist that the kid, Jackson whats-his-face was a self-entitled, rich and spoiled jock, Derek had turned on his heels and never looked back.

But even if he didn’t get to have a pack, his chest burning with longing and sadness so deep it ached whenever he saw the other wolves (The other kid, Scott, had turned into a true alpha, and had turned three other kids as well to join their pack. They looked happy.), at least he was safe in Beacon Hills from other hunters. Peter had killed Kate, Derek shuddering at the thought of her still roaming these streets, and Chris had taken the position of the local hunter, and had mostly only threatened Derek.

Apart from that one time that Chris and his goons had destroyed Laura’s Camaro, the only thing he had left of her. He had sobbed for the whole night, ready to curl into a ball and disappear, crawl into the grave with Laura’s body and hope Mother Nature would caress him into sleep so deep he’d get to see the rest of his family.

He stayed.

But one problem (among many others) that he had, was that Derek had no money. With Laura’s death, the human society unaware of her passing, since ‘werewolf territory death match’ wasn’t a viable explanation to the police, all of the money that their inheritance held was in Laura’s name. In Laura’s bank accounts. Derek had no access to those.

The only thing he had was the apartment Laura had rented, with a automatic payment contract to the monthly rent. Without an anchor, or at least a stable one, Derek was unable to get a job because he was so afraid he would fuck it up. He’d enrolled into Beacon Hills community college, because that too had been pre-paid, but other than the three pairs of henleys, two t-shirts, four pairs of boxers and one pair of jeans with his Converse shoes and Kånken bag, he virtually had nothing for himself.

He was piss poor, unemployed full-time student with no friends, no family and hunters that were ready to put him down with only a wrong twitch of the eye.

His life was a disaster.

Trudging through the melting snow, Derek listened to his stomach mourn for food. In three days time there would be a full moon, and in that time, the woods would be dangerous to hunt in. If he wanted food, he’d have to go either tonight, or tomorrow. He tskd, thinking of the pile of essays waiting for him.

Thank God he was allowed to hand write them. If he wasn’t, he’d practically have to live in the library or at the school campus, because he didn’t own a computer. Even his apartment held only one working lamp with a light bulb, an empty fridge and two towels. He did have a plate and a fork, as well as a meat knife he’d snatched from the outdoor diner that didn’t look close enough for their customer’s empty dishes. 

When he nears his apartment, Derek stiffens. Someone is inside his apartment. Wary, he carefully steps the three sets of stairs up to his door, and listens. The burglar doesn’t seem to be doing anything though. Which makes sense. Derek doesn’t even own a bed, for Christ’s sake. He usually sleeps as a wolf on the floor.

He rattles the lock loudly, hoping for whomever it is that’s on the other side would take the hint and bolt. But the person doesn’t. Derek opens the lock slowly, letting the door creak from its hinges, and steps inside. He drops his bag near the entrance as he closes the door behind him and stares.

The stranger is standing in a what should be a living room, his back faced against the front door. And it is a he, Derek realizes. It’s the kid, the friend of that true alpha. He’d never gotten his name, though, but he could smell the sheriff and the kid shared a scent, so he knows he’s a Stilinski at least.

The kid turns slowly, his eyes wide as he locks them with Derek.

‘’Dude,’’ the teen says with a feeling. Derek can sympathize.  

‘’This is where you live? There’s - There’s nothing here! I don’t even see a bed. Your fridge is so empty it doesn’t even have a light. Does any of your lights in this apartment work?’’

Confused, Derek quietly points to the one in the bathroom. ‘’That one works,’’ he says blankly.

‘’… Only that one?’’

‘’Uh,’’ Derek says, ‘’Yes?’’

‘’Dude,’’ the kid says with horror. ‘’What do you eat? You look like you have bones and skin, and… Stubble. Very manly and uh, wolfy, but not very nutritious.’’

Getting the wits of him, Derek scowls, growling a little. He crosses his arms. ‘’What are you even doing here?’’ he snarls. ‘’How did you even get in?’’

The kid looks unimpressed. ‘’I’m a cop’s kid. I know how to pick locks. Which, by the way, my dad’s the sheriff. He’s uh, in the know now. So.’’

‘’So what?’’

‘’So,’’ the kid says, ‘’You don’t need to hide in a place like this anymore. We know you’re a werewolf, and the Argent douche is a hunter, but dad will keep you safe. He’s not letting Argent mess with any of us, so I’m sure he’d be happy to help you out too. So, you know, move to a better apartment, get some food and clothes and stuff.’’

Derek blinks. ‘’I live here,’’ he says, uncomprehending. He doesn’t have any money to get a better apartment. He doesn’t live this way because he wants to.

‘’Well, yeah, but can’t you like, move somewhere else? You have money, I know, because I, um, might have seen the police file and the um, amount of money you got from the uh …’’ Death of you family, the kid doesn’t finish, but Derek hears it loud and clear. He looks away, the loss of it all hitting him renew.

‘’I don’t have any money,’’ he grits out. ‘’My sister… She’s got it all.’’

‘’Oh, uh, cool,’’ the kid says, swaying on his heels. ‘’So where is she? Do you want me to help you find her?’’

Derek snorts humorlessly. ‘’I know where she is,’’ he murmurs, hugging himself. ‘’And that’s where I hope I would be too.’’

The kid blinks. ‘’…And where is that?’’

‘’In a grave,’’ he answers roughly, ‘’and all the better for it.’’

The kid takes a few fumbled steps backwards. ‘’She’s dead? She uh, who - ‘’

‘’My uncle,’’ Derek sighs, and suddenly he’s weary, defeated. He comes to the living room, charting away from the kid and slumping against one of the walls, sliding it down so that he’s sitting on the floor.

‘’Everyone is dead. There’s noone left but me.’’

The kid frowns, whispering, ‘’That’s rough.’’ He comes to sit next to Derek, mimicking his position. They’re both quiet for a while, the moon filtering through the curtainless window, revealing the dust speckles swarming the floor. 

Abruptly, the kid stands up. ‘’I know what to do,’’ he says to nobody in particular, and then looks down at Derek and winks. ‘’Just wait here. I’ll be back.’’

The kid dashes to the door, only stopping to excitedly tell Derek, ‘’My name’s Stiles by the way. And I’ll be back so just sit tight, mister. I’m gonna - Yeah, this is going to be good, just wait - ‘’ And then he’s gone.

All that’s left of the guy is mixed smells that permeate Derek’s den. He waits a couple hours, but the kid doesn’t come back. So he goes to sleep, already regretting not getting any essays done. But that’s a problem for tomorrow.

When Derek gets home late the next day, there are strangers again in his apartment. This time it’s multiple someones. He doesn’t bother going quietly like last time, because he can smell the pack of wolves and they probably already know he’s coming.

Stiles is the one who opens the door before he has time to fish out his keys, and he’s beaming, ushering Derek inside.

Derek stops just shy of Stiles getting the door closed. He blinks dumbly at the sight that greets him. There are lights on everywhere at the apartment. There’s a fucking rug on his hallway, and he can see furniture in the living room, peeking from the corners. Stiles comes from behind him, pushing him more inside. At first he’s greeted by Sheriff Stilinski. The man is in his uniform, his face apologetic and reassuring.

‘’Mr. Hale,’’ he says, extending his hand. ‘’I have heard from my son that you are someone I can come to if I have any questions about the supernatural. I’ve been educated within the past four months, but information from a person who’s clearly more knowledgeable than my son’s friends or our town’s cryptic vet would be appreciated. And,’’ he says, bringing Derek into a comfortable hug, ‘’I’m very sorry for your loss son. I knew your family. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always available.’’

Then the man extracts himself and offers a smile. ‘’And call me John, son. I’l be sure to have my number in your cellphone after tonight.’’

‘’Derek,’’ Derek says in response. ‘’And uh, I don’t have a phone.’’

‘’You do now!’’ Stiles pipes up. Derek looks over, and then he sees the herd of teenagers that are the wolves he’s been seeing around town.

‘’I’m Isaac Lahey,’’ the first kid, Isaac, says. ‘’Nice to meet you.’’ He doesn’t offer his hand, but nods shyly. Derek knows him. He’d listened to the kid get beaten up more often than not, and even went to threaten the kid’ father a couple times. It’s nice to see Isaac to not be in pain or scared.

‘’Derek,’’ he offers in response. 

‘’I’m Erica, and this is my best friend Boyd,’’ the blond, white teen says, and points to the guy behind her. Derek nods at them.

‘’And I’m uh, Scott McCall. And I um, wanted to …’’ the kid whines in protest when Stiles jabs him in the side, but lowers his head. ‘’I’m sorry I was rude to you when we met. You tried to help me and I was being an idiot. I would like to start from a clean slate, and um, offer you a place in my pack. That is, if you want it.’’

Derek looks around. There are two sofas and a coffee table, a couple rugs and a bed. Even red curtains have made an appearance, and he can smell food in his kitchen that he knows wasn’t there before.

‘’Why all this? You don’t even know me. I don’t know you,’’ Derek says, baffled.

Stiles shrugs. ‘’It’s Christmas time and that is a time of giving? Because dude, I’ve seen you brooding away, thinking we don’t see when you look at us. I kind of know now what wolves need, and wolves need a pack. And you don’t have one. And we rejected you when you tried to form one with us, but we regret that. Because leaving someone alone after so much tragedy is, well, pretty much a punishable crime to me. So.’’ The kid spreads his hand. ‘’Here we are, if you want us. And you don’t even have to decide now. Just, think about it. Get to know us, let us get to know you. Let the odd ones gather into one big, smoochy family.’’

There are groans from the others, and the sheriff facepalms so hard, Derek hears the slap sound it makes, as the man’s palm hits against skin.

Derek hugs himself, already feeling a little bit better at having someone similar to him, someone with the same set of instincts than him be near him. Fill his den with their scents.

‘’I’ll think about it,’’ he promises, and Stiles fist pumps. Then the teens start carrying food from the kitchen, and Derek can’t help but think that, yeah. Maybe Laura will have to wait for awhile before Derek joins him.

Just for a little while.

3

MY BINDERS CAME IN THE MAIL OMG!!! I had to try it immediately and what a relief! It was not difficult at all to breath in than the other ones I have where I’ve actually had problems breathing in them. These are absolutely amazing and I got shocked seeing how much they flatten your chest too, without it even being uncomfortable! I’m super happy and pleased with them. The grey one is a binder I ordered from AliExpress (aka not safe to use), I have had troubles breathing properly in it and pains. The gc2b binder feels amazing to breath in and is so comfortable!

Nightly sisters

Prompt: (takes place in the past, back in the cottage) Though Nesta and Elain wasn’t the big sisters Feyre wanted during day time, they were big sisters she needed during night time.

—–

A whimper woke Nesta from her slumber, her eyes opened to the dark night. And while her eyes quickly adjusted she scanned for what had caused the noise, Elain was fast asleep facing her on her right, though Feyre was the opposite.

Feyre’s blanket was laying halfway down to the floor, she was covered in sweat, shaking, and crying.

It was rare that Feyre had nightmares, but when she did they held onto her like the pollen on Elain’s clothes. She didn’t wake from the nightmares unless woken. This had, sadly, happened before.

Nesta’s fifteen year old younger sister dreamt of the predator animals she didn’t kill at the first shot.

Elain rose from the bed slowly, “another nightmare?” She whispered. Nesta nodded. “Do we wake her?”

It would only get worse if they didn’t do something, only once had they left her be and that only lead to her screaming for help.

Many thought Nesta and Elain didn’t care about Feyre, that they only cared about what she gave them: food and money.

Nesta sighed low, not in frustration but rather sadness, before she climbed over Elain and rounded the bed. Silently, she pulled the blanket over her youngest sister.

Cutting wood for the fire every other morning gave one muscles, and Nesta had little problems lifting Feyre to the center of the bed. Feyre whimpered once again and gripped onto Nesta’s arm, as if holding onto her was the line between life and death.

Elain wrapped her arms around Feyre as Nesta crawled back under the blankets, her arms joined Elain around their trembling sister.

After another few sobs and whimpers, Feyre calmed down to the soft humming of Elain’s voice. It was a lullaby their wet nurse used to sing, it would’ve been their mother if she ever had put either of them to bed herself.

Nesta stayed awake a little longer after Elain had fallen asleep again, her anger for everything that had happened to their family ate at her. She never wanted to be mean to her sisters, deep within she loved them deeply, but her hatred for their useless father had made her cold. And that sadly sometimes went out on Feyre. Deep within her the instinct to protect Feyre was there, but her sister had become so independent and strong that seeing her as her little sister was hard, and solely she blamed it on their father… and maybe a tiny bit at herself.

Closing her eyes, Nesta fell asleep knowing that even though she wasn’t the perfect big sister during the day, she could at least pretend to still be Feyre’s oldest sister during night.

2

Top to bottom

1. Good grief he still defends that game. For all the complaints about Zero Suit Samus or the fact that if you beat the early games fast enough, she’s wearing very…casual clothes, the one game that all the other Metroid fans readily admit is pretty sexist, he defends. 


2. It’s not the same thing. Samus readily had the means to protect herself with the Varia suit, Link did not. Samus didn’t use it because she was taking orders from some dude the whole time while in Link’s case, it was unavailable to him so he had to come up with other means to protect himself until then. 

No one was mad at Samus for not using her Varia suit to protect herself from the heat. They were upset because she’s taking orders from some chump no one’s heard of in any of the games, putting herself at risk, when she should be a badass independent bounty hunter.

In other words, they were upset at the game and it’s awful story. 

3. Did Zelda specifically tell Link not to use protection? Or did Link decide not to use it by his own volition and/or simply because it wasn’t available? 

4. The fact that you can make elixirs for protection shows that they do cut it. I mean, if the game tells you that you need to go there even if you haven’t unlocked a certain protective clothing, then it must mean it is possible to survive by other means. 

5. Once again the thirsty fetishist who doesn’t understand what he’s talking about decides to call everyone else sexist. 

It doesn’t matter that Other M had many problems beside that one snippet of story while the new Zelda game has been getting overall positive reviews. 

Nor does it matter that it’s within Link’s character to take orders from a superior and not Samus’

Nor does it matter that one of the reason people like Samus is that she’s this lone wolf bounty hunter so it’s infuriating to players that they’re being restricted by some douchebag NPC who had 0 impact on the Metroid universe to where they can’t use an item that’s readily available and makes perfect sense to use.

Which goes along with the fact that it also doesn’t matter that one reason Link is thought highly is because he’s the kind of guy who’d rough it through Hell and back to complete his mission and is completely devoted to Zelda and Hyrule. 

Nor does it matter that no one remembers Other M other than it was bad meanwhile the new Zelda game is readily on people’s minds because it just came out, thus making it unlikely that anyone would draw comparisons between the two.

No, it’s simply that gamers are all raving sexists who need to be scolded by the likes of Andrew “defends Other M” Dobson. Was there a secret cutscene in Other M where Samus was inflated like a balloon or why the hell is this guy of all people defending that game? 

Misplaced || Grayson Dolan

  SUMMARY - She looses her phone at the restaurant, and with Grayson’s help, she finds it – along with a date. 

WARNING - PG - none complete flufffffff 

WORD COUNT - 1,400 words bro

AUTHOR’S NOTE - this was a request by a lovely anon hope u enjoy this goes out to u man. i really love the idea of this one lol.

MASTERLIST 

REQUESTS - OPEN

Keep reading

2

A moment of jealousy 


You enter the house when you see Derek sitting on your couch. You entered the house and you looked towards him… He doesn’t even look at you. Like he couldn’t smell that you were there. You thought to yourself. 

You closed the door behind you and you walked towards the couch. You put your bag next to Derek and you just stood there staring at him. He doesn’t make any movement he doesn’t even look towards you. 

“Derek? What are you doing here?” 

For the first time, he gives you a look. “You tell me?” His gaze is firm and you could see he was doing everything to not explode. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I know about you and Scott.”His eyes changed color. He gives you a firm look again and looks down. 

“About me and Scott?” you asked him surprised. You had no idea he was talking about. Scott was your neighbor since both of you were 5 years old. You always talked to each other. We weren’t best friends but both of you could come to each other if one of you had a problem. “I really don’t understand what you mean. Scott and I are friends since we always were.” 

He stands up front the cough and just stands there, Taking a few deep breaths. His jaw clenched. 

“Are you angry?” You asked him putting a hand on his shoulder. His walks away from you and go’s stand on the other side of the couch. “I serious don’t understand you, Derek. A few days ago we were all over each other and now I can’t even touch you on the shoulder. What’s wrong with you?”

He looks at you. “What wrong with me?” His voice is hard with anger in his tone. “What’s wrong with you? I thought we had something and yesterday I come by your house and I see you and Scott hold each other.” 

You look at him not knowing what he means. “What Scott was here because he had a fight with Allison.” He was still looking at you with his jaw clenched. “I heard him out, told him to talk to her about it and before he left, I gave him a hug.” His face softness a little bit but still his a hard look to it, “Derek?” You walk towards him his eyes following every movement you make. You placed your hands on his face, making him look you in the eyes. “Nothing happened.”

In just seconds you back is slammed on the wall behind you and Derek is standing there in front of you. Your body’s not touching each other by a few inches. 

“I’m sorry.” He says to you and before you could respond his lips where on yours. 


tag.: madithemagicalfangirl

shut up & dance

sakura just wanted to eat in peace, unfortunately the founders won’t let her


Sakura sighed, rotating her shoulders. It had been a long, long day.

“Sakura!” a voice called.

And it was about to get a lot longer.

Sakura turned, casting Hashirama an irritated look. “Yes?” she inquired.

“Let’s grab some dinner, I’m sure you’re starving,” he stated, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow as he led her away.

It’d been two years since Sasuke’s genjutsu had somehow thrown her back to the past. Two years of catching herself calling out to Ino whenever she saw odd plants and looking for Sai when there was a beautiful sunset. Two years of dealing with nosey annoyances.

Like Hashirama.

Her stomach growled on cue, but Sakura refused to feel embarrassed. She’d just completed a double shift and hadn’t eaten since the night before.

Hashirama laughed. “Let’s go see what the Akimichi have prepared tonight, shall we?”

Sakura shrugged in acquiesce and the duo left the makeshift hospital. Despite her exhaustion, she felt proud of the progress she’d made with the Konoha hospital. As the only competent medic in Konoha, Sakura was in charge of every aspect of the hospital, from creating the medicine to training the staff. They were improving in leaps and bounds and the citizens of Konoha remained in awe of her.

Hashirama glanced at her out of the corner of his eye a couple of times. Sakura smirked. Subtly was not Hashirama’s strong suit.

“Yes?” she inquired sweetly, eyebrow raised.

He flushed, not an uncommon sight when around Sakura. She always managed to unbalance him. Ever since she showed up at the gates, covered in blood and demanding to speak with Tsunade, she continued to surprise him. “Are you ready for the upcoming celebration?”

Sakura grinned. “It’ll be nice to celebrate the founding of this village. Have we decided on a name yet?”

Hashirama grinned. “Madara’s come up with a great name. He’ll reveal it at the ceremony.”

Sakura hummed noncommittedly. Perhaps the most intriguing thing about this universe was Uchiha Madara. Her first encounter with him had been beyond humiliating. She’d broken through the gates of Konoha, looking rougher than ever, caught sight of Madara, and decked him across the face, screaming something about Tsunade. In her defense, Sakura had been functioning with both blood and sleep deprivation.

Uchiha Madara had also been their main enemy in the Fourth Great Shinobi War.

In any case, apologies were made and Sakura found that this world’s Madara was an incredibly thoughtful individual. He hid it behind his stoicism and intimidating aura but he was a sweetheart to the core. She’d found dango on her makeshift desk in the hospital on days when she was running double or triple shifts. Madara was the only one who knew about her favorite sweet. It made her wonder if Sasuke had cast her into an alternate universe completely, instead of just the past.

“Sakura?” Hashirama asked anxiously.

Sakura started. “Sorry, I was drifting. What were you saying?”

His flush spread to his neck as Sakura watched in fascination. “I was wondering if you’d join me at—“

“Sakura,” a voice greeted, interrupting Hashirama.

Sakura turned, breaking her grip on Hashirama. “Tobirama,” she greeted warily. Sakura liked the philosophical conversations and debates they sometimes had but Hashirama and Tobirama together tended to be…interesting. “How are you?”

His red eyes warmed minutely. “I am well, thank you for asking. Are you going to dinner?”

Sakura nodded, valiantly ignoring the glares the brothers were trading.

Hashirama smiled tightly. “Why don’t you join us Tobirama? We’d love to have you there.”

Tobirama smiled slightly in return. “I would be honored.”

Sakura shook her head slightly as they started down the street again, smiling at civilians and ninja alike who greeted her. Tobirama and Hashirama flanked her. Thankfully, it wasn’t an uncommon sight for the men to traverse the village with her or the rumor mill would have imploded. For some reason, the villagers considered Sakura a central figure to the village and her interactions with the major clan leaders seemed a part of that.

They approached the patchwork building that housed the most phenomenal cooks in all of Konoha. It was bustling with activity as was the norm. Sakura greeted the familiar patrons and any former patients that she recognized as Tobirama and Hashirama commandeered a table for them in the corner.

“The usual Sakura?” Kimiko asked, brown eyes twinkling with good humor. Sakura had been on good terms with the Akimichi ever since she’d healed the clan leader’s daughter of pneumonia.

“Of course, thank you. If I could get three orders?” she asked.

“Make that four.”

Sakura turned, barely resisting the urge to groan when she caught sight of Madara smirking down at her.

“Coming right up,” Kimiko said, bustling back into the kitchen, a sly grin on her face.

Sakura should have expected it, honestly. They always found a way to corner her every day. Sometimes it was Tobirama volunteering to teach her a specialized jutsu. Other times, it was Hashirama “stumbling” upon her while she was out training. Madara approached her sometimes asking for her medical opinion on the Sharingan. Generally each of them managed to coerce her into a spar once or twice a week. The really crazy ones were when the four of them sparred together.

They had to travel a distance from the village to prevent long-term destruction.

Sakura made her way back to the table, Madara at her side, feeling that doom looming over her.

This wouldn’t end well.

Tobirama and Hashirama stopped glaring at each other to stare daggers at Madara who merely smirked triumphantly as he took a seat near Sakura.

“So, as I was saying earlier Sakura…” Hashirama began.

“You know, Sakura I wanted to ask…” Tobirama said at the same time.

Madara interrupted, “Sakura, would you do me the honor…”

The men all broke off, glaring at one another. Sakura, beyond confused and exhausted at this point, smiled when Kimiko approached.

“Here’s your soup,” she said, watching Sakura sympathetically. “I brought you two bowls because I can see you’re famished.” Kimiko winked. “On the house.”

“Thanks so much!” Sakura replied, digging into the first bowl with enthusiasm.

The others began to eat as well, discussing politics and paperwork as Sakura slowly began to feel more like a human being. They’d been having some problems with other villages, ones that had been established for a longer period of time. A lot of shinobi were coming into the hospital after being ambushed. Madara was pushing for a show of strength while Hashirama was hoping for peace overtures among the villages. Tobirama wanted to hold off and study the other villages some more before making a decision.

Sakura ignored their chatter and focused on her food, thanking the gods above that they were distracted from whatever was making them competitive earlier.

“S-Sakura?” came the tentative call.

Sakura turned, smiling when she saw Itama, Hashirama and Tobirama’s youngest brother. She’d healed him as a gesture of good faith following her impromptu attack on Madara. It had been the start of the founders’ intrigue with her. Itama was a sweet and gentle kid, probably five or six years younger than she was. She enjoyed talking to him. He was the only sane Senju in her opinion.

“Yes, Itama?” she asked politely.

“W-would you…could I escort you to the celebration of the village’s founding?” he asked, looking up at her shyly through his eyelashes.

Sakura smiled gently. “Of course, Itama!” she enthused. “I would love to join you!”

Sakura frowned, realizing that the conversation at the table had petered off. She turned, recognizing the dark looks on the founders’ faces. She groaned.

It was going to be a long night.

anonymous asked:

What happened with yoonseok? And why are they still working together if they can't stand each other?

They had this one huge problem they never got over w that haunted their relationship (don’t wanna spoil cause I’m making painted screenshots for this later!)

As for the 2nd it’s cause money LMAO people in the industry knew they worked the best together so they usually get hired together for super high profile missions and heists

Dear lord but Android phones are a pain to make work with certain email apps.  It was like 12 steps to apple’s 4 steps.  No wonder the android users couldn’t get their email!! Hugs my iphone.  It is my precious.

Keep reading

Boyfriend Hobi
  • you are literally dating the sun
  • always getting complimented
  • you could literally be in a trash bag and this boy would think your the most beautiful thing to grace this earth
  • your house would never be quiet like there is always music playing 
  • DANCE PARTIES
  • he would always be tickling you or pinching your cheeks
  • couple fuckboy bucket hats
  • you knowing all these random dance facts 
  • him constantly peppering your face in kisses
  • until he starts kissing all down your body whoops
  • MaSsAgEs
  • teaching you dances like ‘Baepsae’ and just laughing the whole time
  • he always insists on making you breakfast 
  • like there would be no arguments
  • because every time he felt a minor disagreement was escalating he’d start doing the ‘Touch my Body’ dance or some other one and whatever problem you had just went away
  • frolicking in parks
  • grocery shopping would be so much fun like both of you skipping up and down each isle 
  • swiping like entire shelves into the buggy
  • you want this thing okay np throw it in the cart 
  • biting his lip and giving a suggestive look
  • “stop that”
  • “i don’t know what your talking about baby”
  • he loves holding you and squeezing you tight 
  • cute video messages when he’s away
  • doing aegyo whenever your sad or stressed
  • he would surprise you with huge expensive gifts like a giant teddy bear and roses every once in a while
  •  every time you would do aegyo he’d act like he got shot or whenever you gave him a small peck he would scream 
  • seeing a spider and suggesting you guys move
  • anything you needed you would have no matter what it was 
  • you would feel so special and beautiful bc of him 
  • theres literally no downside in dating hobi its a beautiful thing and 100% recommend

Originally posted by bangtan-monsta

to the person that requested this i hope you like it