pls reblog my things


@natvanlis: Tickets for @ClexaCon are going fast! See you in Sin City next weekend kitties. ✌🏻

“Hey everyone!  I just wanted to send you this quick video message to tell you how excited I am to be attending Clexa Con, the very first Clexa Con.  I’ll be there next weekend in Las Vegas of course on Saturday March 4th and Sunday March 5th.  Make sure you follow them on Twitter and Instagram @clexacon and check out their website so you know when and where exactly to find me.  And I will see you in Sin City.  So many queer ladies under one roof.  That’s going to be a wild trip.  Byeeee!”

Rebelcaptain fanfic: A hand to hold

For @rebelcaptainprompts 

    It had started with a brushing of hands.

   They had both still been in the sickbay. Cassian had been half-unconscious, Jyn a little delirious from the medication they’d given her, but she’d still managed to turn her head and seen the man in the bed next to hers. They had fought together, died together and been resurrected together, and something had slammed painfully in her chest in that moment. Her limbs had felt heavy, weighted, like if she tried to get up she would simply fall to the ground, so she’d instead reached out an arm towards him. It had swayed a little and in her punch-drunk mind, she had almost forgotten it was there, until she’d suddenly felt the fingers clasp around her own.

   They were close enough. He was there. She’d looked across the space between them and imagined if there were nothing instead.

   In the weeks that followed their release from the sickbay, they were quick to realise that there were few who would ever truly understand what they’d been through. The brushing of hands became holding. Jyn knew what it looked like, when he would reach out and lace their fingers together as they strode determinedly down the corridors of Echo One together, but she had ceased to care.

   No one questioned them. No one at all.

   “No one–” She gasped as she felt her back hit the wall, Cassian’s tongue tracing the edge of her clavicle. “No one – finds out about this–”

   He hummed a little, enough to indicate he’d heard her, but not enough to assume he was actually listening. “I’m serious,” she said, sighing as he moved further down her chest, tugging the collar of her shirt out of his way. “We’ve only just been cleared for duty, I’m not screwing up our chances of working together–”

   “Draven won’t separate us.”

   “If he finds out that we’ve been doing this a lot, he would.”

   He smiled against her skin. “Fine then. No one knows.”

   “No one knows.”

   He kissed her, fierce and determined. Jyn had discovered pretty quickly that they kissed a lot like they had fought on Scarif, with a push and pull. That had started during a sparring match in the training gym, the two trying to work on getting their strength back. A mix of their skills and their injuries had resulted in them being rather evenly matched, and a fight could last almost too long to endure. When he had finally managed to pin her to the mat, her face flushed and his bare chest heaving, all logic had left her brain.

   His kiss had tasted salty.

   It had simply carried on from there until now, when he was shoving her up against the poor, unsuspecting wall in his quarters (which by this point, she often shared). It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. Her fingers tangled in his hair, keeping him close as he ran a hand up her thigh, hitching it around him. The mechanics were often different, but the concept always the same: they would touch with calloused hands, sigh with breaths mixed together, and as a result, had fallen headfirst into something neither of them really knew how to put into words yet.

   All Jyn could think was this. I need this, I want this, I will walk through hell to keep this …

   “Am I still allowed to hold your hand, though?” Cassian suddenly asked against her neck. His wandering hand on her thigh was distracting, but she cleared her head enough to answer,


   “Why? The entire base already assumes we’re sleeping together anyway–”

   “It’s only rumour, Cassian–”

   “Fine, fine,” he rumbled against her. It made her shiver as he bent down and lifted her, both her legs able to wrap around him now. They admittedly hadn’t quite perfected this dance, yet. There was still much to learn about each other. There were things to say, stories to eventually tell, and moves they still hadn’t quite figured out. He pressed into her, hands inching high as Jyn practically shoved her hands inside his shirt. The first time they’d done this had been awkward and embarrassing. They’d had enough experience between the two of them to know basically what they were doing, but a lot of magic gets taken out when it’s punctuated with ‘do you like that?’ and ‘yes – wait, no’. Slowly, they’d grown used to each other, understood how their bodies worked together. Now, they could begin to explore.

   Now, it was good. Very good.

   Cassian pressed his hips into hers, pushing her closer to the wall and sending a spark straight through her. He ran his hands up her sides, dipping into her lean body and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He found her hands, and he smiled against her lips, lacing their fingers together. He pushed them back into the wall, Jyn helplessly letting him.

   “Are you sure we can’t hold hands anymore?” he rumbled against her.

   Jyn almost whimpered.

   “Fine. You can keep holding my hand.”



i’m really surprised that i haven’t seen this in the fandom yet! each ‘page’ is numbered for your convenience. based off the picture book (x)


☞ local scorpio, beautiful & vain as ever, has impeccable fashion sense but not many more qualities - has to make the most of it, while it lasts ☔︎

   follow my instagram @/literalvampire for more of my face, I know u want to

“you see everything in such black and white terms” I have bpd wtf do you want from me


givin’ ‘em the ol’ razzle dazzle 

You are Water, I found my Oasis

So I’m still procrastinating writing this final essay, which of course means I had to write more Alyanette. I had to. Also I keep thinking about how great it would be to date a girl because of ALL THE CLOTHES you could share. And thus this story was born. 

Read on AO3

“You’re dating me for your closet, aren’t you?” Marinette asked, watching with amusement as another garment goes flying out of her closet. There is a muffled ooh! sound as the individual inside the closet throws yet another shirt into the growing pile on the floor. Marinette shakes her head affectionately, but calls out, “You know you’re going to have to clean up this mess when you’re done!”

Keep reading

so why don’t we go, somewhere only we know…

one of the most endearing things about gintama is the fact nearly everyone calls gintoki by his first name. like, who actually calls him “sakata”? (tosshi the otaku? “sakata-shi!”) everyone else calls him “gintoki” or some version of “gin”. the shinsengumi call him “yorozuya” or “danna” (”boss”), but that’s a nickname that’s more personal than “sakata”. i mean, everyone else pretty much refer to each other by their surnames–except for when it comes to gintoki. even within the joui 4, i’ve always found it interesting that they call each other “takasugi”, “sakamoto”, and “zura” (okay, this one’s a nickname), but gintoki is just…”gintoki” (or “kintoki”, if you’re sakamoto).

everyone calls him by his first name right from the start too. nobody has started with “sakata” and changed to “gintoki”. and i dunno why, but it’s…really endearing to me? like, formality and etiquette are a big part of japanese culture, hence all of the different ways of refering to yourself and others (e.g. honorifics: -san, -chan, -sama, etc.), and how people start off on last-name-basis first before first-name-basis, all of which express different levels of politeness and indicate different levels of intimacy. but for gintoki, everyone he helps/meets basically skip that first step; they go straight to his first name. and i guess this implies that they are comfortable enough/consider him a friend even after one encounter.

sorachi is a genius, did you know? he’s not just a master of story-telling, but also a master of people. i mean he knows how people use language to express their unspoken feelings. our protagonist actually isn’t all that flashy and he doesn’t exactly exude that “bright” energy that make people fall in line right behind him and fight for whatever noble cause he tells them too. so we don’t get adoring crowds telling him how much they love him or look up to him or whatever on a daily basis. instead what we get is “gintoki” (otose), “gin-san” (shinpachi), “gin-chan” (kagura), “gin-no-ji” (gengai). in this manga where most characters are on last-name-basis with each other, we have our protagonist, “gintoki”. in this subtle way, we can tell just how much he’s loved. we can see all of his friends and family. people who consider him important to them. hell, you can even see it in the fandom. does anyone actually call gintoki, “sakata”?? and so i guess that’s why i just find this whole thing so endearing. they don’t have to voice how much he means to them; you can hear it nonetheless.

or maybe he just introduces himself as “yorozuya gin-chan” so people don’t even know what his last name is and have no choice but to refer to him by his first name…